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#i did it y'all
bapple117 · 3 days
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NEW FIC ALERT: Chapter 1 of Bluest Monday is up!
🍎 >> AO3 Link << 🍎
Radiostatic / One-Sided Radiostatic / Vox x Alastor 18+
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Summary:
The year is 1989; Vox and his closest friend Alastor have maintained a strong allegiance for decades. Thus far, Vox has been the Radio Demon’s biggest admirer and protégé, always more than a few steps behind; always wanting more than friendship.
The 80s bring with them a new era for televisual media; TV is finally becoming king, threatening to cause a rift between the two friends. Vox, desperate to keep Alastor in his life, doubles his romantic efforts. Alastor, desperate to maintain control and power, decides to indulge them.
A story in which Vox finally gets the man of his dreams; a flighty wicked demon who loves to push his buttons. Even if for but a fleeting moment.
A story about true friendship, tainted by the bitterness of an unrequited love being exploited.
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wren-of-the-woods · 1 year
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Not Yet / Love Run by The Amazing Devil, AO3 lyric video edition! It's finally here!
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emahriel · 1 year
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Heavenly Evil, holy One, You whose work is never done, Any visage, any name Cannot cloak your single aim. 𝐅𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥, 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫 & 𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫
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soulsforsales · 6 months
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Professor Steven Grant x Reader
Warning: This is my first fic (Idk if that should be a warning but I am scared lol), fluff, age gap, no use of Y/N, sorry for any grammatical mistakes
Summary: You always had a weak spot for nerds but Steven Grant might just be the man of your dreams.
Pairing: Steven Grant x reader (yes, we do have Marc and Jake in the next chapters!)
Thankyou @ivystoryweaver for your ideas and support <3
Chapter 1
It is a warm Tuesday afternoon in October. You are browsing the books in the "classics" section at the bookstore. Usually, you come to the bookstore on weekends but you've decided to meet a friend this week, so here you are.
Your eyes roam the bookshelf along with your hand in a straight line until you hit something. Someone. You step back, an apology already on your lips until you turn and see the man beside you and suddenly you are at a loss for words. You stare at him.
Normally, if you run into someone at the bookstore you would just turn away and apologize, which happened a lot since you were always lost searching for your book but it wasn't a rom-com movie where anyone you accidentally stumble upon turns out to be your soulmate - but, god, right now you wish it were.
Honestly, you have seen your fair share of good-looking men, but this guy was, you dare say it, gorgeous.
He had a defined, sharp jawline with dark brown eyes, and his hair was a mess of curls. He was wearing baggy clothes but it suited him just fine and a messenger bag slung on his shoulder. 'I'm sorry,' you hear him say and he gives an apologetic smile. O.K. If you thought he was good-looking a moment ago, his smile was absolutely beaming - and it wasn't even a real smile. 'You okay?' He asks, his fingers grazing your forearm for the slightest second, bringing you back to life. He is looking down at you, confused. Really? Could he not see what he was doing to you or did he not know how good-looking he was?
You nod, saying, 'I am fine. Sorry about that.' He waves his hand in front of his face, 'No worries,' he replies with a smile. He looks a bit older than you, thirteen years or some.
You are staring at him again. You can feel yourself getting red. So embarrassing.
'That's a nice book you've got there,' he says, pointing to the book in your hands that was now wrapped around your chest. The blush on your cheeks deepens, he doesn't notice.
"Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte" you trace your fingers over the cover of the book.
'Yeah,' you say, pushing the book closer to yourself, 'you too.' Alright, you do not know why you said that, but he was holding a book and it only felt right to return the compliment.
Or maybe you are just really bad when it comes to conversations with someone who's got you fawning.
He shows the book to you, "The Ennead" it reads. Suddenly, you are intrigued. Yes, you work for a textile company but History, especially Egyptian, has always been interesting to you. And before you know it, you are both somehow in a long, elaborated conversation about the Ennead, Egyptian history, and the pyramids.
He knew so much that it left you speechless. You could only admire him as he kept spitting engrossing Egyptian facts as if it were the weather report. He talked animatedly, with his hands moving and his eyes gleaming. His hands, wow, his perfect, sleek hands were totally distracting you from his stories.
He stopped abruptly when his phone rang. He was telling you something about Ammit, the sinister goddess of the Underworld but he had to stop and pick up the call.
He held the phone close to his chest, saying, 'Looks like I'll have to leave.' He looked like he was in a hurry but he glanced at you once more before walking out the place, as if he wanted to say more.
He disappeared soon as if he'd never even been here.
Your heart is beating fast and it feels almost as if, you have never had a conversation like this one before. Maybe it was the person more than the conversation itself.
You didn't even ask for his name, you wince at the realization. You should've totally asked for his name.
Maybe you'll see him again.
For some reason, you are sure you'll see him again.
•------🌙
You are a few feet away from the coffee shop's door when you notice your friend. She's sitting at the table with someone, you can't really see who, and is typing aggressively into her laptop.
Your friend is in the last year of her University, she's a year younger than you. You always knew that University was not your thing but you'd attended it anyway because your parents wanted you to and being exceedingly wealthy, they had proposed to pay your study loans for you.
So now you have a full-time job, a good paycheck, and an apartment of your own without any piles of loans above your head. While your friend, still in Uni was drowning in projects and assignments and you knew she needed to loosen up a bit, hence, the reason you two were meeting today.
You enter the shop with a smile, but it drops the moment you notice who your friend is with. You freeze a few feet away from the table. You couldn't be sure if it was him but the resemblance was there.
Your friend looks up from her laptop, noticing you. She waves at you, grinning, which makes, whoever it is, sitting in front of her turn to you.
You almost trip. He looks even better than the last time you'd seen him. He was still wearing baggy clothes, his hair tousled and curly but it looked purposely done. And he was wearing glasses, red colored glasses perched on the top of his nose. Adorable.
You always had a weak spot for nerds but he might just be the man of your dreams.
Your friend asks you to come over and have a seat and you do. You can tell that he remembers you. He's been staring at you ever since you walked in and you can't breathe. What's happening to you?
Your friend, however, is oblivious, she introduces you to the man, telling him your name and he introduces himself, 'Steven Grant,' he says, shaking your hand clumsily. You nod. His hand, oh god, the handshake sent tingles all over your skin.
'He was just helping me with a few assignments, thank you so much for this,' your friend adds and after telling her that it's no big deal Steven leaves the table to get his order.
You watch him go. Steven Grant. You had met him at the bookstore almost a week ago and yet, you couldn't stop thinking about him. It felt foolish but you'd never, in your life, daydreamed about a guy the way you'd daydreamed about Steven Grant.
'Stop drooling,' your friend says interrupting your rail of thoughts. A blush spreads on your cheeks. You aren't drooling... are you?
'How do you know him?' You ask her
Your friend grins, 'he's my history professor.'
Your jaw drops, 'he's a professor?' You repeat, placing your hands on your chest dramatically, 'he's like everything I've ever wanted.'
She chuckles, 'You should ask him out. He's exactly your type and I am sure he's single.'
Your eyes turn to Steven who's now getting his coffee, 'how's he still single?'
'Because he's the most awkward person you'll ever meet and the only friend he has is a goldfish named 'Gus', it is one-finned or something. He loves talking about it,' your friend tells
You smile to yourself but your heart's hammering against your chest and you know you'd never have the courage to ask him out.
'I could never,' you say, biting your lower lip. Before your friend can reply Steven comes back with a flask that the barista had filled for him.
Your friend smirks as she closes her laptop and leaves the table the next moment. You silently beg her to stay but it's too late.
Steven looks at you and you can't stop blushing. You are praying that your complexion doesn't give it away. 'Correct me if I'm wrong,' he speaks sweetly, 'but... have we met before?'
Your cheeks redden, 'yeah,' you say, 'Yes actually, at the bookstore... that day, I - I had no idea that you were, would be - what a coincidence, right?' You give yourself an imaginary facepalm. Someone must remind you how to form a coherent sentence again.
'You're at University too?' He asks
You shake your head, 'Oh no, not anymore.'
Steven smiles in reply and you two fall into an awkward silence. You want to say something - you know you should say something but he hasn't stopped smiling since you arrived and you can't think straight when he's looking at you with those deep, soft, brown eyes.
Maybe you should ask him something about his job - anything would be better than staring at him like an idiot.
You open your mouth to speak but Steven cuts you off, 'that day when we met,' he says, taking his glasses off, 'I wanted to ask you something, actually...' he pauses to take a good look at your face, you can swear you are as red as a tomato by now. 'I was wondering if - if you would want to - maybe - uh, have dinner with me sometime? I was just thinking if...' You don't hear the rest of the sentence. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he asking you out? Was Steven Grant, the man you had been reeling after - asking you out on a date? This felt unreal.
'I'm sorry,' his voice reaches your ear, interrupting your thoughts, 'I think I might be reading too much into it. I understand if you're not interested.'
Your eyes visibly widen at his words. It wasn't that at all.
'No.' You almost yell, 'I - I am interested. I want to, I mean. I would love to go on a date with you.' You are smiling hard and you can feel the butterflies rummaging in your stomach. 'If - if that's what you are implying.' You add.
This is bad.
Steven lets out a small laugh, his cheeks turning pink, 'Yes. Yes, th - that's what I meant.'
You grin, not because you want to but because you can't help it. He's so nice and so absolutely beautiful.
Steven fiddles with his sleeves nervously, saying, 'Well, there's this really nice restaurant down the street. They have all kinds of food options. I - I was thinking maybe we could, you know, check it out.'
You nod, still smiling. Still feeling the butterflies in your stomach. He looked ten times better when he smiled.
'Yeah,' you say, 'yeah, sounds great.'
'I'll see you tomorrow then? If - if that's okay with you. I get off work at 5'
'Tomorrow's good.'
'Yeah?' He's smiling with his eyes now, crinkles appearing around them and oh, you could just die.
Steven's expression softens as he starts to get up, 'I am terribly sorry, love,' he says, with a weak smile, 'I would really like to stay but I have to leave now - I have a meeting at work. I could, uh, text you the details, though?'
You tell him that it's alright and exchange phone numbers.
'See you tomorrow, then?' He asks, sliding his messenger bag down his shoulder, his curls toss as he fixes the strap and you fight the urge to push your fingers through them. You really wanted to.
'It's a date then,' you say, biting your lower lip. It was hard to contain your giddiness.
'I'll call you.' He says, passing you a little smile before finally walking out the shop.
Oh my god. It happened! You are going out on a date with Steven Grant. You are acting like a teenager getting asked out for the first time but you're too happy to care. You are happy - excited even - for a date, you haven't felt this like this in a long time.
Your friend finally comes back to the table, holding a sandwich in one hand and a coffee cup in another.
'You were ages.' You say, adding Steven's phone number into your contacts
'Was I?' Your friend replies, slurping her drink, 'well, the barista was super cute - not really my fault, besides, what were you chatting with Mr. Grant about?'
You smile. Your cheeks hurt from smiling now but you can't help it, 'I am going on a date.' You tell her, 'With your professor.'
Tagging: @wittyjasontodd (I didn't know if you'd wanted to be tagged since this is not DC related but here it is!), @fandxmslxt69 (bcs I was inspired by your math professor lol >.<)
Anyone who wants to be tagged, just lmk!
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le-trash-prince · 1 month
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Crawling Towards the Sun (6978 words) by butai_trash Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: พิษเบ๊บ | Pit Babe (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kenta/Kim (Pit Babe) Characters: Kenta (Pit Babe), Kim (Pit Babe), Tony (Pit Babe) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Drift Compatibility (Pacific Rim), Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Kenta (Pit Babe), Omega Kim (Pit Babe), Stream of Consciousness, Pining, Implied/Referenced Abuse Summary: KimKenta Pacific Rim AU, Oneshot
"In your condition, can you pilot?"
Kim scoffed. "You think I'm ever touching one of Tony's machines again?"
"Not the drones," Kenta clarified. "Tracer Red. If I-" he paused and swallowed. "If I drift with you, will it be enough to get us- to get you out of here?"
Kim's eyebrows shot up in surprise, all traces of humor gone. Kenta felt the weight of Kim's sharpening focus. "You've drifted before?"
"Not with a human. Just- I was a test pilot. For the jaeger drones."
Kim stared at him for a long moment, thinking. Kenta didn't like to interrupt but- "He sent me here to kill you. It's either this, or I dump your body in the river and hope for the best." And I'd rather not do that, Kenta thought, but I will if I have to. He drew the gun and leveled it at Kim. "Can you pilot?" he repeated.
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razberriesss1 · 3 months
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MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE !!!!!
My piece for December !! (Featuring Barnaby, Rosie, and Strawberry)
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Aaand that's it for my monthly Ben and Holly drawings for 2023!! Hopefully I'll be able to draw more next year!! I'll just try not to challenge myself ehe
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cindyneilly-arts · 2 years
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Guess who's the mad woman who actually went to finish the sketch I did of hermes
This gal did.
Anyways here is a finished Hermes of Empires SMP!
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And yes I didn't do the Sanctuary outfit but if I become a madwoman again maybe I'll give it a shot.
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navarice · 9 months
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A Box of Pictures in Ma's Attic
//@desi-lgbt-fest // Day 18 Fest Submission
Sometimes when I look back at my childhood photos I wonder how such a sweet little girl could ever become someone like me. It’s not a feeling that’s purely negative, though. It’s just a thought. I see the little me holding dolls and hugging her family and then I wonder just when did I stop feeling the joy of existing and start worrying about the space I occupy in this world. Every person stands at their own crossroads, yet mine feels like standing right in the middle of a roundabout of identities. A Muslim girl that isn’t particularly devout, a Bengali who’s lived in America more than her own homeland, the eldest daughter that disappoints her family more than makes them proud, a fraud in her educational institution and workplace, a fat girl (really that’s just the reality of it), just a general person who is easier to let go of then to hold on to. Most importantly, however, a person who doesn’t understand all these identities she grapples with. 
When I do ponder on this, I remember that little girl in the picture, so sweet and so innocent, somehow knew back then that something about her was different from what she has known her whole life so far. There was never a dawning horror or a sudden shift of the universe, but something more quiet and sure…almost as if it was just a truth born within her. Now, innate acceptance is different from the reality of seeing it. Truth be told, learning about the queer community at 11 years old was absolutely overwhelming. Queer culture in 2014 was far from the progressive as it is today, and the passing of the Marriage Equality Act began a sort of Rennaissance of new identities, definitions, and cultures. Yeah…quite overwhelming. 
Eleven-year-old me didn’t know what to do with all of it. Neopronouns? Nonbinary? Genderqueer? Asexual? All I know is that I like to kiss girls sometimes. Maybe I liked boys too, but the more I get to know boys my age the less I like them to be honest. The more I learned new things, the more questions I had, and the more I felt like a failure because I didn’t understand it right away. The quiet acceptance was gone, instead replaced with new verbiage and cultural politics. Absurdly, I wondered if I was even doing this gay thing right. Should I be thinking about defying societal norms and change my pronouns? Should I hate sex? Love it?  Should I discard my religion and Bengali identity because it is not as progressive and denies my existence? For the first time in my life, I began to question myself. 
The best thing about being gay in the early 2010s is that you can shove yourself back in the closet as many times as you want since being open about it was so new. And that’s exactly what I did. Up until my senior year of high school, I didn’t bother thinking about any of it (other than consuming an insane amount of gay content because hey a girl’s gotta have an outlet somewhere). Perhaps it was a blessing rather than a curse that the pandemic made us experts in introspection because the next round of reformation felt akin to psychological warfare on my younger self. 
I look at the younger photo of me and I look at the me right now and wonder how, after all that, I still come back to a full circle to the place I once was: quiet and innate acceptance. I am not out to my family (I tried with my mom but that was a complete disaster). It doesn’t really mix well with me being Muslim-Bengali. However, I am out to myself. In other words, I gave up caring about definitions and what should or should not be, instead focusing on the painful, joyful, simple existence I lead, making a difference when I can wherever I can. I am still on that roundabout of identities, continuously faced with unprecedented uncertainties, but now, I take that little girl’s hand, and we face the future forward together. 
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h3yward · 7 months
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independent, private portrayal of pope heyward, treated as an original character and sideblog to @localsalt.
and that's pope: the brain's of the operation. finalist for the lucas t. vanderhorst merit scholarship and the smartest person i know. little bit of a weirdo. his father's this legendary character, heyward. anything you wanted on the island: heyward could get it for you. now, i'm not sure heyward knew what to make of his oddball son, but it didn't matter. he was a pogue, just like the rest of us.
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llewellyn watts in mm s14 + "disloyal order of water buffaloes" by fall out boy
watts + folie à deux: 1/4
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lawofcollage · 2 years
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Y’ALL LOOK AT MY FIRST COVER
Thank you @oficmag for choosing my work to be on the front of your magazine, this is one of the coolest things I’ve ever done and I’m so honored to be part of this magazine.
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Yes - G cult
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applesooyoung · 1 year
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104 FOLLOWERS BEFORE CHRISTMAS ARE YOU GUYS SERIOUS WTF- TYSM FOR THIS WISHIN EVERY ONE OF YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS STAY SAFE LUVS 💗💗💗
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name-doggo · 2 years
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maybe that’s me..maybe not..👅🧦
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crustaceousfaggot · 16 days
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No nuance allowed. Put your nuance in the tags, I just want a yes or no answer
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obsessingoverl · 3 days
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I took my meds! This is like the thing I'm worst at remembering to do so I'm very proud of myself
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