Some sketches for the poetry thing I was talking about with some excerpts of the poem Let Dead Dogs Lie by Silas Denver Melvin.

in honor of my s5 announcement this week, here’s one of the scenes from the first episode! hope you all like it🫶🏻

Tease tidbit Tuesday

tagged by @devirnis @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 thank you all <33333

this week I inspired for crossover hangster and buddie fic

P.s. Jake's callsigh is Hangman , but on his helmet its H_ngm_n

Jake shrugs.  “I missed the letters so anyone can put what they like ‘a’ or ‘u’,” he grins and wiggles his eyebrows, making eye-contact with Rooster, while everyone rolls their eyes and moans in disgust. “I’m pretty sure it’s just your ego thinking someone would choose ‘u’,” Phoenix comments. “You definitely can put ‘u’ in the first place and it will be true”, Buck says with a grin before sipping his beer and makes his shot as Jay suggested to him, striking the ball in a pocket, not noticing how everyone stopped laughing and looks at him now. “Thank you, sweetheart,” Jake grins more and enjoys the shock on his friend's face, and almost laughs with how Eddie almost choked on his beer. And he really likes how Buck seems doesn’t understand what he did, unaware of the reaction to his comment while he tries to make another shot but misses. His friend stands back and finally sees the way all the eyes are on him.  “What?” Buck gives him the cue back. “Jake and I are exes, so I know what I’m talking about,” the easy way he admits makes Jake smile happily.  Both he and Buck are okay with the way they never worked perfectly as partners, but stopped trying in perfect time to create fantastic friendship.   “You are exes?!” the question is asked from everyone near them, but the way Bradley and Eddie change their face and ask it more emotionally than anyone with, actually, pretty similar faces, takes interest in Jake. Is that jealousy? From both? Does that mean Rooster is into him too? Does it mean not only Buck is in love with his best friend?

tagging @hippolotamus @pirrusstuff @eddiebabygirldiaz @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @rainbow-nerdss @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @transboybuckley @anakinfallen @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @fortheloveofbuddie @ghostscowboys @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie @hoodie-buck @housewifebuck @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @callmenewbie @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @buddierights @mandzuking17 @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz and anyone who wants to share

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten & Andrew Minyard Characters: Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten, Mentioned Aaron Minyard - Character, mentioned nicky hemmick, Mary Hatford, Brief Drake Spear, Other Various Foxes Mentioned Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Pre-Canon, brief Post-Canon, brief during canon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Time Skips, warnings for andrew's past, One Shot, no beta we die like tilda minyard, Dialogue Light, andrew and neil are in denial for a bit, they get over it, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Soulmates Summary:

Andrew Doe is freshly six years old when he wakes to the sight of his shadow leaving him for the first time. Andrew knows he should be more careful while racing through the house; he doesn’t know these new people after all, but he’s too excited to let a little thing like caution keep him from finally finding someone who loves him. Someone who wants him. ~ Nathaniel Wesninski is four years old the first time his shadow leaves him. He doesn’t notice, but his mother does. She makes a mental note to make sure that neither Nathaniel nor his father ever have the chance to follow Nathaniel’s shadow to his soulmate. One less thing for Nathan to hold over Nathaniel, and thus over Mary, the better. ~~ Twice a year, your shadow leads you towards your soulmate. For Andrew and Neil, this changes surprisingly little.

***

New fic!!!

This year I want to challenge myself to write, finish and post at least one fic every month, starting with this one for January!

This fic is based off of a prompt from a book called 5-Minute Daily Writing Prompts by Tarn Wilson (I did not write this in five minutes, I just used the prompt). The prompt I used is:

"Prompt 1: Fantasy, Plot: A woman awakes in the early morning to see her shadow sneaking out the bedroom door. She follows. (Continue the story) The woman sees her shadow holding hands with another unattached shadow. What happens next?"

Go check it out and let me know what you think!

an um. snippet. from me. for the first time since. july :-)

𝑾𝑰𝑷 𝑾𝒆𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚 ♥

i'm a day late yet again, but its that time of the week!!

firstly, thank you to the phenomenal @umbracirrus @skyrim-forever @thequeenofthewinter @mareenavee @dirty-bosmer for tagging me this week!! <33

secondly, i'm tagging the lovely @orfeoarte @aphocryphas @v1ctory-or-sovngarde @thana-topsy @boethiahspillowbook @polypolymorph @viss-and-pinegar @totally-not-deacon @gilgamish @wildhexe and you!! cant wait to see what you've all been up to this week!!

i'm working on "Cycle of the Serpent", chapters 27 and 28 right now! i'm going to share a tiny snippet from both. they're in extremely rough draft form at the moment, but i'm happy with the direction i'm taking them as i send athenath into meridia's temple >:3c

i'm also going to share a snippet from my Dragonborn Frothar fic, "Kill the Creature, Shed the Blood"! i've not gotten much deeper into it, i'm afraid, but i am enjoying working with this character a lot <3

chapter 27

"Listen," Emeros began in a steady voice, "there's certainly been a mistake. We're not Daedra worshippers, nor do we want anything to do with them. We're simply returning an object to it's rightful place, which would certainly prevent any other Daedra worshippers from finding it and enacting the will of…" "Meridia," the shorter Vigilant manage out. "This is the temple to Daedric Prince Meridia." "Right," Emeros nodded, "then if we return this and leave, that should be satisfactory. We've no intent to continue with the will of Meridia, we're simply putting things back where they belong. That's certainly something understandable, is it not?" "No," the taller Vigilant scoffed, "you've been carrying a Daedric artifact with intent to fulfill the wish of a Daedric Prince. In our eyes, that makes you on the same level of their worshippers." Emeros gave an agitated look to Wyndrelis, as if to ask if the Dunmer was hearing the same things he had just heard. "We've no intent to worship her, I can assure you. In fact, our friend-" he moved his hand in the direction of Athenath, "is a devotee to Mara! You've got the sense, I'm certain, to see how that makes him the opposite of a Daedra worshipper." "Anyone who does the will of-" Before the Dunmer Vigilant could finish her sentence, Athenath set the beacon in place, all five figures watching as a beam of light shot from the stone ground. Stumbling back, the Vigilants cursed and sputtered as Athenath stepped away from the statue, the pillar of light lifting the beacon into the hands of the statue.

Athenath stumbled. The world fell away and reformed under them, a new world, the same one, what did it matter? It swayed under his feet, the skies turned to melting gelatin, the clouds brandished heavy lights into their weary eyes. ------- As the world came back to him one piece at a time, he took in the sight before them. Emeros and Wyndrelis, poised in a standoff with the Vigilants. A faint, high humming thrilled the air, nerves spiking the hair on the back of their necks like an electric current run through the five at the statue's foot. Emeros gave one glance back at Athenath, Wyndrelis thickening a spark of magicka into his palm, blue against his fingertips. The Dunmer, too, turned his white irises back to the shorter of the trio, pupils landing dark, scrutinizing pinpricks against the Altmer's apprehension. Wordlessly, they understood. Athenath sprinted down from the statue's footing as lightning sprouted from Wyndrelis' hand, the sounds of battle raging above as they hopped from the stone down to another, until they landed squarely on the ground with a thud, the light of Meridia and the high-pitched whine it radiated calling to him. Pushing open the doors to the temple, they silently prayed to Mara, a plea of understanding. That she would show her compassion, and look down upon her devotee not with revulsion at the Daedric tampering in his fate, but with warmth, with love, with knowing how it was to be backed into a corner. The light of Meridia burned, the shadows split aside, and Athenath pushed forward into the ruined depths.

chapter 28

A foul air hung low around Athenath, thick in the darkness of the temple. Moss overpowered the stones, darkness shrouded in its blinding power, and the stench of decay wafted into the Altmer's senses. Athenath pressed their sleeve to his nose, forcing himself not to gag at the odor. He stepped forward, flinching as the noises of battle shredded the once-quiet air above them, using their sword to break apart spiderwebs that threaded through the temple's corners and crevices. The hair on the back of their neck prickled, skin bumping, spine aching with the all-too-familiar dread that sent a shiver down the column. The lit braziers up ahead offered both peace and terror. A presence had been here. The dark, then, seemed safer than the figure they knew lurked deeper in the temple. Still, he pushed one foot ahead of the other, against stone steps worn and slicked by the ages, into the depths of Meridia's temple, despite the chill radiating around them.

"Kill the Creature, Shed the Blood"

Frothar slashed away at the straw dummy before him, an intensity flaring in his eyes brighter than before, Nelkir's words ringing in his head. The promise of someone who could cover for him. It was almost too good to be true. The rumors perfumed the castle thickly of a dragon, nesting somewhere inside Whiterun Hold. Irileth had been debating the chance to dispatch a unit of guards to check it out, but Proventus and his father advised against it. His father. Frothar tore his helmet off and placed it aside. His father, who feared to lose him, an understandable fear. His father, who forbade him from getting involved in anything too dangerous, afraid to let Frothar out into the world, to watch his son get hurt, to watch his son burn up in the suns of the mountainous province. The Jarl, decorated war veteran, afraid to let Frothar so much as pick up a sword in the name of defending their Hold. He winced at the thought. Did Balgruuf not believe in him? Did the Jarl think he wasn't capable? Frothar had been trained by only the finest soldiers in Whiterun, from Great War veterans to young and talented people whose leadership was prized within the ranks of their guards. Irileth herself had tutored him in the art of wielding a blade, of stalking quietly, of keeping his head level, knowing when to stand down and when to fight. Yet even she denied him this chance to prove himself.

Slowly, he pulled his helmet back up from the table. He examined his armor. He wasn't too tired, no, he'd not let himself wear out on sparring. And if he packed quickly enough, he might even escape with the changing of the guard at the front doors of Dragonsreach. Of course, there was always the barracks, but sneaking through there in full armor sounded like the worst idea he'd had since he voiced his longing to hunt the dragon terrorizing the countryside. He would not tell anyone. Slowly, Frothar marched to his room, slipping between the corridors and snaking his way out of the sights of any and all who might still be awake at this hour. He pulled open the creaking wooden door to his room, hissing quietly when it echoed out into the night, and shut it quickly behind himself. He snagged a pack from beside his bed and tugged a small purse from his bedside drawer, filling it with a handful of septims. He had plenty of healing potions, he tended to stock up for when sparring with guards or Irileth or his brother got too rough, and he ensured they were packed so tight they could not rattle. He could hunt for his food. He would be fine. As he slung the pack over his shoulder and began the slow march to his window, he gazed down at the craggy plateau Dragonsreach rested upon. He knew this would not be an ideal route. He'd need to find some other way down, some pathway out.

*wheeze* slowly, but surely, working on art of them all

Category is: WIPs that are kicking our ass today.

marker practice ayumu

theres currently 194 chapter ideas for www. i need... i need to condense... urgkjfdbkjgf

sunday six!

thanks for the tag @passthroughtime and @four-white-trees i'm just going to be perpetually late to these aren't i lol here's something way lighter compared to my last post. yagami gets hurt and that means everyone is just gonna have to deal with kuwana being weird about it. sorry higashi and sugiura about.... all of that... you know how they are... anyway here's a little something of sugi and kuwana :D

Kuwana had probably come as soon as he’d heard, jumped on the first train over. All because he’d heard Yagami was hurt.

Yagami saying that there was nothing between them had been nothing but lip service for a long time now.

When Kuwana smiled and waved at him, Sugiura smiled and waved back. Relationship with Yagami aside, he was a pretty nice guy most of the time. Sugiura was just glad he didn’t have to be in the room when the two of them saw each other again.

“Sugiura-kun!” Kuwana greeted. “How are you? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Sugiura felt himself relax at his fussing. “Like I said before, I’m perfectly fine. It’s just Yagami here that had a little slip-up.”

“So it seems. Yagami’s getting a little too old to try and act like hot shit, keeping up with you.”

“Aren’t you older than he is?” Sugiura laughed.

“Yeah, but I’m not stupid enough to misjudge my limits.” Kuwana grinned.

a celebratory post: i have just experienced the most fruitful writing 24 hours of my entire life. at 3:30am last night, i started a new fic, wrote maybe 3k in the hours before I slept? continued the next evening at 5pm, and since then the document has reached the grand total of... 12.5k words!! :D

First time posting in a while, first time doing @flashfictionfridayofficial and first time posting about a new wip I’m hoping to talk about more soon but yeah anyway been struggling to get back into writing but then I was possessed and wrote this at 1 am so.

Kastor’s Prayer

cw for discussion of an abusive relationship

Even after everything, Kastor couldn’t sleep without first praying to her. It was foolish. He knew she didn’t listen anymore, that she had forsaken him just as he had her. And she couldn’t hear him now even if she wanted to thanks to Theia’s deal with the god of secrets protecting their group from the eyes and ears of the pantheon.

But perhaps that was it, why tonight, as he lit the candle, the thoughts on his mind were not the pleas for strength or forgiveness he’d spoken as far back as he could remember. This prayer was not for her.

This was for him.

“Solaea,” he began, as he always did, “O Radiant Lady, Bringer of Light, Goddess of the Sun.”

A deep, shaky breath. “For the first few months after you left, I sat like this every night. On my knees, looking into that flame and begging for you to forgive me. And when I went to bed I would regret it but I’d do the same damn thing the next day. Because you hurt.” As Kastor spat the word, he could almost feel heat on his chest, the handprint shaped burn tingling. “But… who was I to be upset? A goddess deigned to grant me her favour, make me her champion. It would be ungrateful to complain over a little pain.”

Kastor let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, except it wasn’t a little. You burned hotter than the deepest pits of the underworld when you were mad. Sometimes when you weren’t, too. Still, it didn’t matter because when you were good, you were good. It felt good, having the Radiant Lady know my name, care about me, love me. My whole life was built around you. When you were gone, I was adrift.”

His eyes drifted shut. “For those months, it was easy to remember what I’d lost and hope you would take me back. But then I got scared. What would my life be if I did become your champion again? Go back to living every day hoping you’re in a good mood? Be ready for the fire if you weren’t? Would I accept it all just to know you cared?”

Tears pricked at his eyes. “It took a lot to finally figure out the answer. Xanthe, I tried replacing you with. She wouldn’t have any of that, cared about me without the price of pain and devotion. But comparing you to her didn’t feel fair – you’re a goddess after all. Then Theia barged into my life. She’s not afraid of the gods. Seemed suicidal to me, but she’s still here and some of her disrespect must have rubbed off on me. And Ris…

“There he was, an actual god, telling me that what I went through wasn’t fair. That you weren’t fair. Working with him made me finally see that your love didn’t hurt because that’s what a god’s love felt like. No, it hurt because it wasn’t love at all.”

Kastor stood. “Maybe I was entertaining for you. Maybe it stroked your ego to keep around a mortal who was hopelessly devoted to you. But in the end, you never cared. Not truly. And I have wasted far too much of my life clinging to the idea that you did.”

Gently, Kastor blew out the candle. “Farewell, Solaea. And also? Fuck you.”

SHHH SH HEYYY HEY DONT TELL ANYONE BUT... ive been workin on smth since BITB came out..... itsa lil musical animatic involvin kian and becky.... ITS NO WHERE NEAR DONE YET but loooook look im puttin lil screenshots under the cut. its supposed to go along with Am I In Heaven? by King Gizzard n the Lizard Wizard. infact yknow what cmere come sit with be bc ALOT of songs from the 'IM IN YOUR MIND FUZZ' album makes me think about becky and kian. oh my god. those two make me so damn emotional. like Her and I was the first one to rly resonate with me, and EMPTY was another good one, all just stuff about. yknow LOVE!! doomed by the narrative yet burning SO SO brightly in its last moments, holding hands, playing music, THEY WERE SO IN LOVE WITH YOU THAT THE COPY OF THEM LOVED YOU, AND YOUR COPY LOVES THEM TOO. WHAT A BEAUTIFUL, CRUMBLING, BURNING, HISSING, SQUIRMING, MELTING, CLICKING LOVE STORY..

GET OVER HERE N SCREAM WITH MEEE I LOVE SCREAMING ABOUT THINGS

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

A MINI BOUQUET FOR YOUR WRITING JUICE

omg khaya ily thank you for the writing juice!!!

you may have seen some of these already, but here we go!

"There was just something about his face that made you want to see how far you could go before he snapped."

"He held that image in his head as he clenched his fists."

"The challenge in his voice causes you to grin as you take a step towards him."

"Splinter looks at you angelically while you squint at him suspiciously."

"He grabs your hand and holds it between the two of you, watching as a tremor runs through it."

"He carefully lowers himself so that he’s resting on his elbows, his plastron pressing you into the mattress with a delicious pressure."

"He startles a bit, clearly having forgotten you were touching him."

@painful-pooch requested: "Thanatos for snoozeville" from this ask game! (incredibly late i am so sorry lol)

contains: toothaching fluff and m/m romance

Snoozeville - Thanatos falls asleep somewhere that isn't his bed.

The first thing Than saw when he awoke was white. His first groggy thought was that he'd died and gone to heaven, but that was rapidly debunked by two facts: one, he had never been Christian (if he were to go anywhere, it would almost certainly be Hades) and two, that vampires didn't go to heaven (that being the point of the curse, immortality and all). He also didn't feel particularly dead. At least, not more than usual.

He looked up a little further and saw red. Literally, not metaphorically. The red silk of the Archfey's robes peeled from his face as he turned his head and rubbed his eyes. "What... happened?" he asked, as was all too frequent between them.

The Archfey smiled down at him affectionately. "You fell asleep."

"Obviously. I mean how did I get here?" He was having trouble remembering anything at all. Had he been drinking? Ae laughed and carded aer fingers through his hair, making him shudder and cuddle closer to aer. "I brought winter to the domain, remember? So that we could play in the snow? I had such a good time." Oh, yes. He'd probably overdone it on the mulled wine. "We were making those... what did you call them? Snow angels? And I was talking to you, of course, and then you stopped talking back. I was quite worried, but when I brought you inside and put you in my lap to warm you up, well... you began purring, so I knew you must be all right." "No..." Surely he hadn't... Vampires were borderline cold-blooded and therefore tended to become sleepy in the cold. Before the Archfey, like many others he would spend the winter months holed up somewhere sleeping in a dark box and barely coming out to eat. It probably contributed a good deal to particular vampire legends. The combination of the cold weather and being tipsy might have resulted in... embarrassing lapses. "Yes," the Archfey giggled, and kissed his forehead. "You do look quite sweet when you sleep like that. I had no desire to wake you."

Heat crept into his cheeks, which still tingled with cold. "How humiliating."

"Humiliating how? There is no one here but me, my love, and you need not hide yourself. I am not fooled by your suave vampire mask, Thanatos. I know you. You are kind and you write poetry when you are drunk and you like to watch the stars." If anyone else had said those things, he would have died on the spot, but as it was Thanatos was too embarrassed to respond, so he merely yawned and pressed himself more firmly into aer side. "Sleepy still? Good. Shut your eyes, dearest. I will wait for you. I always do."

The Archfey ran aer fingers through his hair again eliciting a low moan that tapered off into a purr, and for once, he let it. The rumble of safe contentment increased in volume with his exhales and spoke to a level of vulnerability he would almost never show, but here with his Archfey was the safest place in the world to him, both physically and emotionally. When he'd warmed up and woken up, they could both have another glass of wine, and perhaps he would read aer the latest detective story in the Strand, but until then, Thanatos would let the snow fall outside and be happy right where he was.

taglist: @athenswrites, @albatris, @crash-bump-bring-the-whump