#ockiss24 almost

[prettylittlelyres]

February Excerpts - 13th February

Violins and Violets - Book One

Chapter Twenty-Five

It hurt to pull my hands free of hers, and it hurt my chest to pull it away from hers. "Don't make me this person," I whispered. "What person?" She reached for my hand, but I pulled it free again. "The person who waits for someone to leave their beau. Or their belle, in Herr Schneider's case." I made for the door. "I don't want to be the other woman. I won't do it for a man, and I won't do it for you."

I’m sharing excerpts of my first two “Violins and Violets” every day in February, at 8am and 8pm GMT. Stay tuned, dear friends!

[drawnecromancy]

Continuing OC kiss week with something i technically sketched out on paper yesterday, but redrew digitally this morning, aha !

Anne and Atropa, at about 24 years old, when the future looked bright.

[arcanesarts]

happy oc kiss week the prompt "almost" made me sick in the head thinking about them

[sae-mian]

OC Kiss Week, Day 1 - "Almost"

[rainecloud020604]

Doing oc kiss week and I'm already late to it hngddghn day one: almost

[lucius-the-sinful]

last day of ockiss week!!! more of them.

[chronoscout-writ]

OCKiss24 Day 6: Reach for ockissweek

I drew my OCs, Jay Vũ and Xuân Lâm from Moonlight & Mist, my Vietnamese steampunk fantasy WIP.

"You know how the story ends. The Dragon King kills the Fox Queen." "Humans and hồ ly tinh are not meant to be together. So why do you still reach out to me?"

A forbidden love between a human mechanic who isn't supposed to be the new Dragon King and a fox spirit minstrel who is supposed to assassinate her.

[felixvanhuss]

OC Kiss Week 3 - Sunrise

(Tagging @stabbyfoxandrew and @jezifster )

That's right, I'm posting a second one right away! Because I missed two days!

I'm imagining they're docked on some moon or something for ship repairs. The rest of the crew if off enjoying being on solid ground, but Sirena is reluctant to leave her ship and Tobias is reluctant to leave her.

[queen-scribbles]

BTW, if anyone wants to borrow one of my OCs for OC Kiss feel free. :3 :3 :3

[inverswayart]

it's almost valentine's day so go give your slightly incomprehensible rival a smooch (they have no lips so just go for whatever tentacle seems nicer)

suddenly remembered about those guys and decided to give them a bit of love for ockiss24! also i finally got a surname for jack so i can tag them properly

[gattnk]

OC Kiss Week 2024 - Almost

Happy St. Valentine's everyone! It's been a while since I've done these two, eh? :D I'll try to catch up on that #OCkiss24 week with these colored sketches (here's the prompt list I'm using), worst case scenario I'll extend myself by a couple days since I could use the practice... so bear my saccharine tendencies for a bit, will you?

[ancientcivilizationnonsense]

OCkiss24 day one: almost

The sun lazily drifted through the green canopy of the garden. The insects hummed and somewhere a frog called. White flowers were scattered amongst the leaves. Felix followed Anipe across the shady pavilion, marveling at the lush plant life despite the oppressive Egyptian heat. 

“This is my little slice of paradise,” Anipe said, gesturing around her. “When the court and Pharaoh responsibilities get too much, I hide out here.”

Felix knelt down next to a clear pond and looked at his reflection. His curly blond hair and scuffed armor rippled in the gentle wake of a waterstrider. And next to him stood Anipe, her shimmering dress and long braids gently swaying in the wind. 

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured. 

“Thank you.” Anipe suddenly realized how intimate it felt, showing him her personal garden, a place only she was allowed to go, and her cheeks flushed as she turned away. 

The conversation came to an awkward pause, neither of them sure how to continue this careful dance. 

Felix stood, dusting his knees off, and attempted a causal tone. “What kind of flower is that? They smell really good.”

“Oh, that’s a lotus. They’re pretty right?”

Anipe grinned and Felix felt his heart jump into his throat. He hadn’t noticed the little gap between her teeth before. 

“Here.” Before he knew what was happening, Anipe picked one and tucked it behind his ear, nestling it in his curls. She suddenly seemed to realize what she was doing and froze, fingers still brushing the shell of his ear. She cleared her throat and looked down. “Lotuses remind us that everything grows and changes. At night they close but once the sun returns, they’re full of life again. They are created and reborn just like the gods are. Like people are.”

“Yeah,” Felix breathed. 

Anipe glanced back up at him. Felix heard the blood rushing through his ears and before he could stop himself, he slowly leaned forward. It felt like he was being drawn towards her like the sun was drawn towards the horizon. Breathtaking and inevitable. Her eyes fluttered closed as she turned her head. Felix felt her breath dancing across his cheek. 

“Opto…” she whispered. 

“Yes?”

She opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself. The air between them was charged with the anticipation of her unsaid words. Slowly, she put her hands on his shoulders then slid them down to his chest, gently pushing him away. “We should get back. Every moment we waste is a moment my people suffer.”

She stepped around him and briskly started back towards the palace. Felix frowned at the absence of her warmth but nodded, gripping the hilt of his sword. 

“Yes, your majesty.”

[veeples]

ockiss24 - valinter

Well hi there. I'm really just doing OC shipping these days, so <3. Happy ockiss24 to everyone! For @ockissweek! No theme used. title: bright, aching longing pairing: faustus valentine/winter collins (@narrativefoiltrope) rating: gen word count: ~1.2k ao3 link!

When Faustus opens his eyes, his bedroom is that surreal shade of blue before the sun can gild it gold. It must be very early. Winter’s alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Her back is facing him, half bare with her summer pajamas. If he focuses he can make out the freckles on her shoulders, freshly vibrant from the weekend gardening.

Looking at her fills him with a bright, aching longing. They haven’t had a morning to themselves in weeks . Months, maybe. Between the kids and both their jobs, they can only manage to find their privacy at night. Faustus recognizes that familiar longing as loneliness.

He misses her.

The distance between them becomes suddenly, acutely intolerable. He wants her in his arms, like, right fucking now.

“Winter,” he says, voice low and rough with sleepiness.

After a moment, she hums so low he almost misses it. She’s probably tired. The weekend had been as hectically busy as they tend to be now with kid’s birthday parties and local events. He almost hesitates. It would be kinder to let her sleep, but he’s always been a selfish bastard.

Reaching out to stroke her spine with his knuckles, he says, more insistent, “Mm, no, don’t go back to sleep. We have to enjoy this while it lasts.”

Sleepily, Winter mumbles, “Enjoy what?”

“The joy of the kids not being up.” She shifts a bit in interest, head turning towards him. Faustus smirks, scenting blood in the water, and continues. “Nice, isn’t it? We could have a little morning snuggle.”

“Hm…” 

“Come on ,” Faustus whines impatiently. “Honeybee, I’m cold. I’m freezing. Come warm me up.”

“Freezing in summer?” Winter laughs quietly. Faustus grins, smug with victory. He can tell she’s ready to give in.  “Alright.” 

Then, with a little sigh of effort, Winter rolls around until they’re face to face. Their eyes meet across the sheets and Faustus is too shameless to regret bothering her.

Gripped with excitement, Faustus does a stupid little shuffle towards her. Winter giggles, but she’s shuffling too, sheets rustling noisily in their otherwise silent room. Then: Faustus sighs happily as soon as he gets an arm draped across Winter’s waist and she’s got hers curled around his back. She smiles at him, drowsy and imperfect. Her hair is an ugly flattened mess on one side. Creases line her cheek on the side she slept on.

I love her, Faustus thinks, overwhelmed with the force of it.

“Hey,” he says in a whisper, like any louder and he’ll break the moment.

“Hi,” Winter whispers back.

Settling into the cuddle is as natural as breathing for Faustus. That bruised, aching thing in his chest quiets with Winter’s solid warmth in his arms. He has always been so hungry for affection. It’s insane to him that even now that he’s married, that hunger still hasn’t left him. 

Maybe he would always be like this. Maybe it was a simple consequence of their constraints: his touring, her job, the kids now. Even holding her, he finds himself wanting for more. Wishing they had endless time to indulge.

“I miss this.” Faustus says, stroking his thumb along the curve of her hip. “Mornings like this.”

Winter’s mouth goes soft and sweet with understanding, sad with a little longing. “I do too.”

Her hand draws a line up the worn cotton of his shirt to the overgrown fringe of hair at his nape. Faustus closes his eyes as she scratches there lightly. He could sink into this shared warmth for hours and hours. He really, really would like to. He’d love for everything – her job, his music, even the kids – to fall away for a while so they could enjoy each other without worry. 

Not for the first time, Faustus feels that nasty twinge of guilt. He loves his kids. He loves that parenthood fills him with a huge love, bigger than he knows how to really hold, and he even loves that it scares him shitless. But there’s also that nagging desire to monopolize Winter’s time. Bad habit of his, really. He’s an insatiable beast.

Ah, whatever. This really isn’t the time for that conversation. Later, he thinks, he’ll have to admit they need to figure out how they can get more time together or he might, like, keel over from wanting. It’s kinda funny that, even married, he finds himself wanting for her. 

Kinda funny. Mostly unfair.

For now, all he wants to do is fully enjoy the luxury of having his wife in his arms, her fingers in his hair, before the day pulls them apart again.

Soon – too fucking soon – Winter’s alarm interrupts their happy cuddle time. The look she gives him is one of strained regret. Faustus groans, lifts his arm, and watches her roll over to silence her phone on the nightstand with a pout. He waits until Winter’s out of bed, feet stuck into her pink plaid slippers and standing at their closet, to decide to poke her a bit.

Faustus sighs loudly, dramatic and jilted. “Is it worth it to convince you to come back to bed?”

“You can always try,” Winter says lightly as she examines her wardrobe. There’s a note of teasing in her voice, the bully she is. 

“Five minutes, Winter.”

Winter pulls out two sweaters, one blue, one tan, both equally grandma like in style. She considers them both before putting away the blue one. “Skylar will need to get ready soon though.”

“Three minutes?”

“Oh Faustus, what could we do in three minutes?”

“Cuddle some more?” Only now does Winter turn to him, eyebrows slightly raised in the mild astonishment of someone who knows Faustus hardly ever stops at cuddling. Faustus raises his hand in mock salute. “Scouts honor! Just a cuddle.”

Unmoved, Winter smiles at him like she really wants to give in, but knows she can’t. Instead she crosses back to the bed and cups his face between her palms and kisses him in way of an apology. It’s very tender, very loving, and again he wants more . Faustus tries to chase after it when she pulls away, but she stills him with a gentle squeeze to his jaw.

Faustus looks at her, helpless. For the second time that morning, he aches to have her in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Winter whispers against his skin. “How about we get a babysitter for the end of the week for a little date night?”

That stirs some definite interest in him. Almost enough to make him drop his primadonna act, but not quite. “You’ll make me wait all week?”

“I’ll give you extra cuddles tonight.”

“And the rest of the week.”

“You’ll get spoiled like that.” Winter grins wide enough he can see her little tooth gap, all sweetness and affection. “Alright, all week.”

The rest of the morning goes exactly as all of them have since they added Clover to their little family. Check the baby, wrangle Skylar into his clothes, get breakfast on the table. Put on the kettle for Winter’s tea, start his coffee. Winter kisses him goodbye and he steals two more before he lets her go.

Faustus spends the rest of the day, after the kids are dropped off at daycare and he’s plopped his tired ass in the recording studio, looking forward to their nightly cuddle.

[szaimyn]

OCKiss24 Prompt: Soft Kiss

Almost forgot to post today's OC Kiss prompt. With Scissors and Paper I felt like a parting kiss as they go on separate journeys for a bit. As for Rock and Paper, Rock decides that a softer kiss would be good payback for Paper's earlier advances.

[lizardperson]

ockiss24 - day 4!

well we had the big "i love you" confession kiss, how about a little flashback to like 8 years earlier - first kiss! as usual when it comes to Mika & Gabriel, unnecessarily horny.

tfw the hot college student your wife is casually fucking suggests a threesome...

content warning: lewd talks but no actual naughties happening (yet)

"By the way, my brother still thinks this is all just a ploy to get me into a threesome with you and your husband." "Oh, definitely not, don't worry." "I mean, not that I would mind, he IS really hot too…"

So, tonight was the night. They had dinner together, a few drinks, chatted, laughed, and once again Gabriel was surprised about how easy it all was with Mika - he, who usually needed a while to warm up to people, just joking around with her, talking about everything and nothing. A random observer would have thought they all had been friends for years. And now on to the actual purpose of the evening… Part of him still couldn't believe Kat had agreed to this. That Mika seemingly had brought up the idea did not surprise him on the other hand - that girl seemed to be very open when it came to sex, and her shameless flirting told him that she at least wasn't uninterested in him. Still, "threesome with an extremely hot college student" did sound like something out of a midlife crisis fantasy, or porn. When Kat brought it up, his first instinct was to assume this was some kind of trap, but he couldn't think of any reason she could have for that. So, naturally, he agreed, trying not to sound too enthusiastic about the whole endeavor - only mildly succeeding, she just knew him too well. But who could blame him… He had been attracted to Mika from the moment they met. She wasn't even his usual type, but there was just something about her that drew him in. Very pretty smile. Amazing curves. Of course he wanted her. And the prospect of Kat being involved also sounded very enticing. They haven't had sex in what, ten years now? Yeah, that seemed about right. Just because she realized she was lesbian didn't mean he had to stop being attracted to her. So to say he was looking forward to the rest of the evening almost was an understatement.

Somehow he and Mika had ended up alone in the kitchen, and once again he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over her body. He usually was bit more subtle when checking out women, but somehow she made it really hard to not constantly openly leer at her like some old pervert. He wondered how many other middle aged guys she had wrapped around her finger.

Leaning on the counter, she gave him that smirk again. "So I heard you want to fuck me, old man." Straight to the point, she really wasn't shy. God, he should bend that little brat right over that counter…

"I do, yes," he chuckled. "Assuming you want that too of course."

"Oh, definitely," she confirmed, licking her lips. "Why don't you start with kissing me then."

Now if that wasn't the textbook example of a great idea. He closed the last few steps between them, now standing right in front of her, looking down. He brought his hand up to her face, very lightly caressing her cheek for a moment. Being so close, he was once again reminded how young she was, and that morality voice in his head popped up again. You could almost be her father, you creep. He wondered if Kat ever had any qualms about her age.

Fuck it.

As soon as their lips touched that voice went quiet. How soft she felt. How hungrily she kissed him back. God, how much he wanted her. He buried his hand in her hair to pull her even deeper into the kiss, and when they finally separated he needed a moment to catch his breath again. She would be the death of him one day, he could tell already.

Smirking, Mika looked up to him. "If you fuck half as good as you kiss, then this is going to be a very interesting night…"

Gabriel laughed, then went for another kiss, pulling her closer and letting his hands wander over her body. He couldn't wait to get her out of her clothes.

Kat's voice interrupted them. "Starting without me, I see." She leaned in the door frame, eyebrow raised, amused by the view.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," he chuckled, being sure she understood.

"Why don't we take this upstairs then…"

[redwayfarers]

in the sun and in the snow

Fandom: Wayfarer Ship: Oya Cenric/Aeran Kellis Characters: Oya Cenric (@sunshinemage), Cassander Inteus, Aeran Kellis (mentioned) Rating: Teen Words: 1187 Spoilers: None! Rory did a little piece of their Oya and my Cass for OCkiss24, and I felt inspired, so I wrote a little thing. Hope you don't mind I borrowed Oya, Rory! It's a little gift for you, after all. Because Oya deserves love, joy and happiness with the dumbass elf they fell for. Happy Valentine's Day :) read on ao3 dividers by @saradika

It’s a summer’s day in the Spire. It’s not Covera, with its warm days where the only thing one can do is sit by the beach, but it’s not freezing cold either, so the wayfarers are in the courtyard, training, conversing with one another. Laughter echoes in the distance. Artanis feels more at home than Covera, in a lot of ways. 

In all honesty, a part of Oya doubted they’d ever have it in their lifetime. Much to their surprise, they were proven wrong. 

The only thing lacking in this bustling, jovial mood of life outside the norms of the world is the fact that Aeran isn’t here. Oya misses him terribly; months pass without them seeing each other, but it does little to lessen the ache in her chest whenever she sits in her room, alone, and thinks about what it would be like if he sat there with her. It’s a soft reverie - akin to a refreshing sip of water on a hot day, or a cup of mulled wine in winter - and also one that’s expanded recently. 

Aeran’s not simply sitting with them anymore. He’s kissing them. 

The notion of it almost startles them, but they welcome it. The thoughts of him smiling against their lips make their days pass faster at times. He promised he’d be here soon; all Oya can do is wait. They might not get to kiss him when he gets here, granted. Oya thinks she might just jump out of her skin if it does happen, in some alternate reality. She just wants him around, and she wants the cozy reverie of it, and the way he hugs her. 

In his absence, though, she’ll take the wayfarers and the people the world cast aside. So she enters the courtyard, runs her fingers through her hair, and starts making her way through the crowd. She passes by Cenric and a new apprentice, a big-eyed human girl with close cropped hair. 

Cenric gives Oya a nod of greeting and a fond smile. The girl also watches Oya, seemingly fascinated by their crest, and Cenric gives her a weak hit on the shoulder. 

“It’s rude to stare,” he says gruffly. Oya laughs. 

“M sorry,” the girl whispers, embarrassed. 

Life is good at the Spire. 

When they reach the smithy, they see a familiar splash of red hair towering over everyone else. Cassander is hard to miss, especially now that he’s in in his finest, artanisian summer attire - which Oya knows is nowhere as fine as what he would’ve worn in Vodena, a lifetime ago - and his hair pulled up and braided in a style that looks messy at the first glance, but betrays a lot of time upon closer inspection. Most jarring of all, however, is the fact that he looks like he wants to be anywhere else but here, Vodena included. 

“Cassander?” Oya pipes up, and he looks up from his boots to blink at them. His hand remains at the braid on his shoulder. 

“Oya! You’re a sight for sore eyes!” He swallows and laughs nervously. “Would you mind if I.. tasked you with something?” 

“Are you alright?” Oya asks. “What happened?” 

“Nothing special, I just– I needed to have my armor fixed, and the only available blacksmith was my now ex boyfriend. So I’m–” He laughs again, this time less like he’s about to cry and more like he’s making fun of himself. “Told myself, ‘Cassander, you’re a big boy, you can do this. Just say hello, thank you and goodbye and you’re on your merry fucking way.’ But no, I had to dress up, even. I was this close to lining my eyes, too. Why look miserable when you feel miserable, right?” 

Oya sighs and steps closer, to stand by him. They understand the feeling quite well. It’s the similar sort of tension that fills them when they think of kissing Aeran, but in reverse. Where Oya has to tell themself that kissing Aeran’s good, and that their head is messing with them, Cassander looks actively ready to jump off the window in Sero’s office. 

“So you want me to pick your armor up for you?” they say, and he nods curtly. 

“If you’d be so kind, yeah,” he rasps out. “If you have places to be, I get it. I am a big boy, after all. But I chickened out at the last second. And, yeah.” He kicks the ground. “For fuck’s sake, I killed people before.” 

Oya looks at him. “It’s not a problem. I don’t have anywhere to be.” And then, they add, with a layer of cautious curiosity, “How long ago did you break up with the blacksmith?” 

“A few months, I think. Distance did its thing, but it still hurts, in a lot of ways.” Cassander shrugs. His fingers have not stopped moving over the curled ends of his hair. “How have you been?” 

It’s Oya’s turn to laugh. “Aeran should be in the Spire soon.” 

“Yeah. Are you planning any big welcome gestures? Any romantic lunches?” 

Oya looks at him, wide-eyed. They clear their throat. “Nothing of the sort!” 

He giggles. “Sad. And here I was, just about to tell you I know a place.” 

Oya looks at the ground. Romantic lunches sound nice; their sweet, unattainable reverie dances in front of them and dulls everything else. It’s a nice thought - them and Aeran, in the nooks and crannies of their family’s estate in Covera, absorbing the sun and watching the sea. Or maybe, sneaking into an old, unused room high above in one of the Spire’s towers, close for warmth as they watch the snow fall. 

And Aeran would kiss them; or they would kiss him, and it would be lovely and sweet and it makes something in them tighten and release in uneven rhythm. 

“I’m just fucking with you,” Cassander says, by way of apology that doesn’t sound that apologetic. “I just think you two would enjoy a romantic little dinner for two.” He extends an arm to wrap around Oya’s shoulders, but it doesn’t quite touch them; Oya leans into it and he rubs their shoulder. Life goes on around them, life away from the norms of good and high society, life where people like them can talk about having relationships at all, let alone failed ones. 

Then she hears the gates open and the familiar sound of Aeran’s voice, tired from the road, and her heart leaps. She turns back to look at the gates and Cassander turns with her, nodding with realization. 

“Go get your romantic dinner, or whatever you guys want to do,” he tells her. “I will be a big boy, as I said, and get the damn armor.” 

“Are you certain–” 

“Yes! Now go. One chance, Oya, one chance, go, go, go!” 

Oya breathes and tries their best not to run to Aeran. When he sees them, he beams and it’s as if they’re in Covera on a warm, summer’s day, or in an unused room in an abandoned Spire tower watching the snow fall. 

He’s home. 

And in a way, Oya is too.