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offside-the-lines · 3 months

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier

"The first sip is joy, the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy." - Jack Kerouac

Summary In July of 2023, Evie looked at a list of cities in North America and rolled a die. Just like that, she packed up her life and moved to Chicago, a fresh start. The 2023-24 NHL season started well for Tito; he did not expect the call on November 28th telling him that he was being traded. To the worst team in the league. And just like that. 10 months after being ripped from his home, he had to pack up and move again. To an unfamiliar city, and to unfamiliar faces. Which is why, when Tito and Evie ran into each other, quite literally, on Christmas morning, they both latched on to a familiar face. Over the next few months, they became close friends. They didn’t talk about the nights shared in Chicago clubs. They didn’t need to. Because they're just friends. Right?

This is a completed fic split into episodes for easier reading. It was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston.

Episode 1. Blue Christmas (4.9k) Episode 2. I. Winter (4.4k) Episode 3. Pal-entine's Day (4.8k) Episode 4. Four-leaf Clover (5.5k) Episode 5. Evie's Birthday 🌶️ (5.6k) Episode 6. II. Spring (4.8k) Episode 7. Not Goodbye 🌶️🌶️ (5.4k) Episode 8. III. Summer (4.8k) Episode 9. Tito's Birthday (4.2k)

Read it in full (44.5k)

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Under the cut: author's notes, tropes, warnings & disclaimer, fun tidbits, chapter summaries

Author's Notes: This fic was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston. It got so out of control long so quickly. I genuinely had so much fun writing this, it's basically my magnum opus; if you look closely, I think you can probably see my soul in there somewhere. I would like to thank @devilssacrament, @wyattjohnston, and @forgottenflowers for being my editors, holding my hand and keeping me sane in this. Also, thanks to @swissboyhisch, and @imperatorrrrr for being a sounding board for ideas . All of your help and support has meant so much to me. You are all just the fucking best, I am sorry this has been my entire personality for the past month, I will probably return to normal soon. Probably...

Tropes: a gut-wrenching mix of angst and fluff with a happy ending, slow burn friends to lover (tbh, idiots to lovers let's be real), alternating POVs

Warnings: alcohol (one instance of alcohol poisoning by side character), mature content bordering on smut (mostly occurring in clubs/public), references to a toxic past relationship. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team based there. Only other Chicago players mentioned by name are: Nick Foligno, Jason Dickinson and Connor Bedard. Other notes: NHL players featured Mat Barzal (a heavily featured supporting character/bestie) and brief mentions of Zach Hyman and Matt Martin. Assume that Tito and Evie are always speaking in French with each other.

Face claim for Evie (if you want one, but you can imagine whoever you like): Adeline Rudolph

Fun Tidbits: Original Character (she/her) called Genevieve Gignac or Evie (pronounced eh-vee) is the oldest sibling of Tito's juniors teammate and friend Brandon Gignac. Along with their other sibling Wiliam, they grew up in Montreal. Evie had been living in Toronto for six years, before moving to Chicago in the summer before the fic starts. I did way too much research so a lot of the little facts are true. Nicknames: (ma) chouette (shoo-wet): owl (mon) chou/chouchou (shoo): in practice, honey, sugar, baby, sweetheart // by definition, my cabbage or my profiterole/cream puff (depends who you ask) Solours (soul-oars): the Québécois name for the yellow Care Bear with the smiling sun on its belly Solou’ (soul-oo): a diminutive Evie decides to use

Cook, Cook, drink your tea, But save some in the pot for me. We'll watch the tea leaves in our cup When our drink is all sipped up. Happiness or fortune great, What will our future be? -- "Afternoon Tea at Pittock Mansion" by R.Z. Berry

Episode Synopses:

Blue Christmas Evie and Tito are both starting life anew in Chicago. It's an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar faces. They're both alone on Christmas. Maybe it's fate that brings them together. Jason and Alandra Dickinson are already smelling smoke from this fire.

I. Winter Tito injures his wrist in the first game of 2024, he’s out for 6-8 weeks and then his car breaks down. He thinks maybe he’s cursed. Evie becomes a shoulder to lean on. Barzy gets suspicious.

Pal-entine’s Day Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

Four-leaf Clover Tito’s been playing again, and during his first stretch of away games begins to miss home. Well, Evie’s home anyway. When he sees her in the bar, he can’t help but show it. Barzy calls him out on his lies.

Evie’s Birthday Sometimes the music moves you. Sometimes the bass pounding in your chest makes you do things you wouldn’t do. Fuck it, it’s your birthday. That’s what Evie tells herself anyway. There are gifts given, but there are also secrets kept.

II. Spring Tito tries to tell her— he does— It’s just he needs to find the right time, and something keeps coming up. Evie’s honest with herself. But does that even matter? Mat decides maybe it is his time to intervene.

Not Goodbye Evie realizes that her time is running out. To do what? She doesn’t know. But she has one last night to find out. That is until— Well. It’s too late now. Tito flies home and wonders if that will be the worst mistake of his life.

III. Summer They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

Tito’s Birthday Tito receives the best birthday present he has ever gotten: the girl he loves standing at his parent’s front door. It was never destiny or fate; it can only be by choice. And they’ll choose each other every time. Eventually, anyway.

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muffinlance · 1 year

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Prompt: Azula joins Zuko on his Avatar hunt instead of Iroh. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I'm certain to be entertained by whatever follows.

Ozai and Ursa were already dead by the time Iroh arrived home. He stepped from his ship into the palanquin, and rode past the places of their execution, holding the urn of his son’s ashes.

He had no time to entrust them to the Fire Sages before his father summoned him. He brought them along, because this was an easier thing than setting them down. And perhaps Lu Ten’s grandfather would like to see him once more, outside of the family shrine. Iroh would have given anything—

He placed the urn on the floor next to him. It did not kneel when he did. Fire Lord Azulon surveyed him from behind the flames.

“Rise, my son. It is good to have you home.”

They did not speak of Lu Ten. His father had always been a man to look to the flames of the future, rather than the ashes of the past.

* * *

They hanged Ursa, as befitted her attempted crime, and her past station.

They burned Ozai, as befitted his. A child of Agni should always return to the flames.

The children of the traitors had been stricken from the family line. Had been placed in the capital prison; bait for the trap. Azulon was keeping close eye on those who expressed concern for the offspring of regicides. Ozai had expected support for his position; it would be Iroh’s second task to sift through the court, and discard the chaff.

His first task was a more practical resowing. Azulon had already selected a handful of candidates: women of suitable birth and known loyalties. The wedding date had been set, pending selection of the bride.

“Thank you, father,” Iroh said.

Lu Ten held his silence.

* * *

Azula had never liked the servants who’d fussed at her hair and clothes, who’d pulled and tugged until she was perfect, like perfect was a thing outside of her for others to bestow. She only had to look at Zuko to know how far tailored robes and well-oiled hair could take one.

She couldn’t see Zuzu from her cell. Her robes were too cold against the stone and every tug to wrap them tighter just made them worse, she could see it in the guards’ faces, the way they’d stared when she’d first arrived and looked a few days after and now they barely even saw. No one would talk to her, no matter her demands. They didn’t even stop their own conversations anymore; just slid in her food and kept walking and batted away her fires and it was cold here.

There were things crawling in her hair that her nails couldn’t dig out. Sometimes she thought she heard Zuzu yelling, but she couldn’t be sure. And it would have been undignified to yell back. She was a princess. She was fifth in line for the dragon throne.

Fourth, now that Lu Ten was dead.

Third, because father was, too.

He’d yelled and then he’d screamed and it hadn’t done anything but make the crowd jeer. Fire Lord Azulon had been silent. Poised. In control. She was his namesake and she would be too.

She was nine.

* * *

Zuko yelled until his throat burned. The guards didn’t care, they didn’t listen to him, which was nothing new. He shouted and shouted and his own ears hurt. Maybe that’s why he never heard Azula calling back.

Grandfather had made them watch when he’d killed father and, and—

If grandfather had Azula killed, he would have made Zuko watch that, too. Azula was probably just better at being a prisoner than he was. Maybe the guards even talked to her.

He was eleven.

* * *

Iroh’s new wife was a third his age. A flower just coming to bloom. She looked like his first wife; Azulon knew his preferences. She was young enough to be Lu Ten’s sister. She smiled and laughed each day with the other court wives, and came to his room with lists of possible dissenters to discuss in their marital bed. It was not the pillow talk he was used to, but it was charming, in its way. She liked to lay on her stomach and kick her feet above her as they traced the web of treachery with his dead brother at its center. She was here to have his children—a task at which she worked with admirable diligence—and to be the acting Fire Lady. She had not had to struggle and flaunt herself for his affections; she had been picked from a line-up, her expectations realistic, her motives aligned with his. It was the least romantic relationship Iroh had ever been part of. It was… refreshing.

On the day the palace doctor confirmed their newly budded line of succession, the Fire Lord called them both in for congratulations. And for pruning.

* * *

Zuko had turned twelve, but had not realized it. Azula had turned ten. She’d counted the days.

Iroh had not been able to visit them in prison; only to inquire as to their treatment. Individual cells, regular meals of reasonable quality, no abuses. He’d moved his own people into position to ensure the last.

Azulon had moved them back, after a delay for his soft-hearted son’s conscience. They could not waste loyal men on cuckoo-vipers. And Iroh could not waste his father’s good will. Not when it would be needed in the future, for the most important request.

* * *

“And your wife agrees to this?” asked the Fire Lord, behind his flames.

Iroh’s wife had not been directly addressed, and so did not reply. She sat in polite and perfect seiza, her head raised, as befitted the woman currently running her half of the court. Azulon had never seen fit to replace his own wife, after all.

“She does,” Iroh spoke for her. “We have spoken on the issue at length, and believe it best. Our family is small, and cannot afford to be smaller. The children are young; too young to have been in their parents’ confidences. With proper guidance—”

“And how would they place in the line of succession?” Azulon asked. “How would they chafe, how would they plot, with a decade’s experience over your eldest?”

Lu Ten’s own connections at court had been built while his cousins were still in diapers. But he was no longer Iroh’s eldest.

“We believe—”

“No,” his father interrupted again. “I will not allow their adoption. Not by you, where they could smother your own babe in the cradle, and certainly not by someone I trust less.”

Which was everyone, since the night his daughter-in-law had served him tea sent by his son.

“Father,” Iroh began, and his wife shifted her elbow just so, the only indication that she wished to dig it into his ribcage. “They are young, and innocent. They are my beloved nephew and niece. Your grandchildren. We cannot in good conscience—”

‘Good conscience’ had never factored into his father’s policies. Iroh had… begun to realize that, of late. His wife let out a small sigh, deliberately audible only to the man next to her. She had cautioned very strongly against a—how had she put it?—a feelings-based approach to this situation. Feelings rarely factored into her own decisions. She had been hand-selected by his father, after all.

His wife went into a half-bow, her head lowered. “May I speak, my lord?”

The flames crackled. The shadow of his father inclined its head, just slightly.

“To kill the children is wise, and I admit, would set my mind at ease for my own child’s sake. But my husband feels strongly on this matter, and so I support him, for his happiness is my own. May I suggest a compromise? To place them outside the court, where they cannot build influence, nor harm your son’s heirs. A position from which you can judge their characters and value to the nation as they grow.”

“You suggest banishment,” the Fire Lord said.

“Not unstructured, of course. To leave them roaming freely would invite those that would take them in. Perhaps a military commission? As they are commoners, they should begin from a rank befitting their station, of course. Let them prove their worth on their own merit.”

Iroh could not see through the flames, but he knew his wife’s small smile was reflected on his father’s face.

“A naval position,” the Fire Lord said. “On a ship that does not frequently make port. The frontlines would be the best place for them to prove themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

Iroh closed his eyes.

“Father,” he said. “Please,” and he could feel his wife willing him to stop talking. The Fire Lord had already agreed to spare their lives. A banishment could be undone, so long as he and the children both outlived the man before them. “I… thank you for your wisdom in this ruling. But perhaps, if they complete some feat worthy of our line, they could be allowed to return?”

The flames were hot against his face. His new wife was still and silent against his side. His father… his father laughed, a low exhalation, the wheeze of a humorless old man.

“Let them bring me the Avatar,” Fire Lord Azulon said, “and I will welcome them home with honor.”

* * *

Zuko didn’t know why they’d pulled him from his cell or scrubbed him down or taken his old clothes. They’d been dirty but they could have been cleaned. His new clothes were scratchy, and too big, and they looked like a common soldier’s, and… and—

And they’d shaved his hair.

* * *

It had gotten rid of the bugs, Azula admitted, in the privacy of her own mind. Still. She memorized the faces of the woman who’d held her down and the man who’d shorn her. For future reference.

They hadn’t bothered sizing her new outfit for a child. Azula noted the quartermaster’s face, as well.

* * *

They were put on a ship. It was the first time they’d seen each other in nearly a year.

Zuzu looked at her head, and wisely said nothing.

She raised an eyebrow at his, and graciously granted him the same.

It was hard to tell them apart. They had their mother’s face. And their father’s.

* * *

Their captain’s name was Zhao. He invited them to dinner in his private quarters, once the Fire Nation was behind them. Zuko fidgeted. Azula didn’t.

The captain spoke on how much potential he saw in them, under a commander who saw their true value.

Together, they could go far. Very far, indeed.

Azula smiled and said all the things she thought father would have said. Zuko scowled.

Zhao brushed over their arms with his own while reaching for things. He served them more when they said they were already full. He squeezed their shoulders when he brought them back to their rooms, which were next to his, even though the rest of the lower crewmen slept together in the same big cabin. Zuko scowled harder.

Azula was invited back. Zuko wasn’t.

* * *

Zhao was… Zhao wasn’t a good person.

“I know that, dum-dum. But do you want to stay banished forever?”

“Uncle said—”

“Uncle’s going to change his mind, when he has his own heir and a spare. We’re threats, Zuzu. And Zhao knows father’s old friends. He’s one of the smart ones.”

The dumb ones had already been executed.

“I… I think he wants to—to tie himself to the royal line.”

“Eww,” she said. “I’m ten. If he wants to get engaged, I’ll just break it when we’ve got the throne. It will be too late for him to retract his support, then.”

They’d barely left port before Zhao had made his first move. He didn’t seem like a man who waited.

Azula was ten, but Zuko was twelve. Being twelve was almost thirteen, which was almost a teenager, which was almost an adult, and adults understood things that ten year olds didn’t.

They had to get off this ship. They had to go home.

Zuko had to find the Avatar.

* * *

(This ficlet is now posted on AO3.)

#are you not entertained?#eventually this one will be a Fire Lord Iroh AU #better hope he gets that throne quick <3 #Happy Ending: and then they joined the southern raiders just as Hakoda was setting sail #and Hakoda was unprepared for these feral fuzzy-headed children suddenly on his ship #Bad Ending: and then they joined the southern raiders when Zuko was sixteen and Azula was fourteen #after four years with Zhao #Zuko: *shakes Aang until he glows then yeets him at Zhao like a grenade*#Azula: that's a good first step to being my favorite brother #but I still don't have a crown in my hair Zuzu #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #Azula #Iroh #I actually really like Iroh's new wife?#RIP one-off OC I'll probably never use again #you are the politically climbing aro-ace rep we deserve #New Wife: sure I'll exchange my firstborn for ultimate power in my nation #wait I can keep the kid too?#sweet deal #ficlet #Cuckoo-Vipers

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kg-clark-inthedark · 4 months

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Here’s my piece for @dishonoredgiftexchange’s 2023 Winter Feast gift exchange! This is for @magnumdarkin25 and I chose your prompt, “Genderswap your favorite character and your least favorite character.”

I had a lot of fun doing this. Hope you enjoy!

It probably goes without saying, but Corvo is my favorite and Burrows is my least favorite. The Outsider’s one quote about Burrows, featured here as the comic’s narration, has always stuck out to me. There’s something so satisfying, as a player, to hear from him that you frighten Burrows, you know?

The original full-size versions of the half-body character drawings included in the comic pages are below the cut:

#giving burrows hair felt wrong but it felt necessary #I like her bun though she’s cute #also Corvo’s dh1 outfit on a woman is something I didn’t know I needed #this got me making comics again!#for the first time in years #so thankful to have taken part of this exchange and to be in this fandom #winter feast 2023 #dishonored gift exchange #dishonored #my art #my comics #dishonored fanart #corvo attano #hiram burrows #genderswap

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5ummit · 4 months

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My Trash Exchange giftee @gunshou requested "twisted ultra-possessive fucked up codependent Hydra!Steve/Bucky" (which happens to be one of my favorite stucky dynamics) with a dash of body horror. Hopefully I delivered.

#looking at my past 3 drawings and realizing they're all centered around bucky with something on or in his mouth #surely this says nothing about me #hydra trash party #bucky barnes #steve rogers #hydra!steve #hydra cap #stucky #whump #body horror #mouth sewn shut #marvel #my art #trash squad #my first art post in almost two years #apparently the only thing that motivates me enough to finish a drawing these days is the trash exchange

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raayllum · 2 months

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this isn't how i'm writing it in fanon s6 bc i can pace things however i want with zero time constraints but this is something i could see s6 doing + i like being self indulgent so

They'd been stupid to trust the Celestial Elves.

It was the only thought running through Callum's brain as he stared in horror, the corona sealed back glass, the Nova Blade a weapon no mortal could wield, and Rayla—

On her knees, the leader holding an ordinary but no less terrifying blade to her throat, his face still a bit scraped up from his and Rayla's earlier scuffle. She'd been the one to catch the elf reaching for Callum's bag when they slept that night; she'd be the one to draw her sword first and engage him, quickly overwhelmed by the time Callum and her parents had arrived.

They were all talented warriors, but rusty after two years in a coin—Runaan unable to draw his bow with only one arm, and something long range was needed here. Some way to kill the leader and give Rayla time, even if he held her in a vice grip, pressing down hard enough on her throat there was thin, scarlet line growing.

"You have something we need, boy," the leader hissed, breathing heavily through a broken nose. "You know what it is."

Runaan's voice broke through, sharp and demanding—"What is he talking about?"—but Callum couldn't tear his eyes away from Rayla. She was struggling to breathe, let alone speak, but gave her head the barest shake. No.

"What are you going to do with it?" Callum says as neutrally as he can, stalling (there has to be a spell or a way out of this) even if he already knows the answer.

What else could they hope to do with something called the Key of Aaravos?

"I'll tell you what we're going to do your elf girl unless you give it so us," the Celestial elf snarls. "On the count of three, I'll slit her throat. One—"

"Stop!"

Two hadn't even left his lips, Callum having an excuse to look away from Rayla's glaring, tearshot eyes now as he digs the cube out of his bag. It feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as he holds it up.

On Finnegrin's ship, at least he'd been able to hide what he was doing—what he was willing to do—in the shadowy depths of the ship. Here, in the light, there's nowhere to hide.

Callum holds it out, taking a few steps closer. "Lower the sword first," he says.

"And have her wriggle free? I don't think so."

"Callum," she wheezes. "Don't—"

"Fine then," Callum snaps. "At the same time—an exchange. On my count of three. One—" He looses his grip on the cube, the ring of celestial elves watching eagerly. "Two—" It's not ideal, him and Rayla in front of where any of her parents could join the fray; there will have to be distance before anyone can fight either way. But then, he's not doing this out of the certainty he'll get the Key back, that it won't end in disaster.

Just for her safety. Just for himself, because he can't live without her.

This was his destiny, what Aaravos was banking on. And he was right.

"Three!"

The Celestial elf takes his blade away and shoves her forward at the same time Callum tosses the cube over. It's caught in one shiny blue hand, the elf towering over him as Callum slides to his knees, catching Rayla as she careens forward before she can hit the floor. She coughs weakly in his arms, bleeding at the throat, but it seems shallow.

The celestial elves make it maybe five five away with their prize before her parents leap into action, swords clashing, but Callum grabs his staff and constructs a funnel of wind around him and Rayla, a thick enough wall of air to keep anyone else out momentarily, as he helps her sit up.

"Callum." She's crying, but alive.

"Let me look at you," he murmurs, lifting up her chin. He uses his scarf to wipe away the blood, relieved when more doesn't follow. A shallow cut just to scare him, but it'd worked. He pulls her into his arms next, just needing a moment to feel her heart beating against his.

She takes a second to hold him back and then does so, tightly, and his heart settles as they sit there shaking. She hasn't forgiven him for it yet, maybe—but she will.

#rayllum #s6 speculation #cube hostage exchange theory #celestial elf variant #my fic #fic #predictions #not really?? but close enough #first actual CHET scenario fic in... god 4 years??#jesus #last time i wrote one of these callum didn't even know who aaravos was #oh how far we've come :')#tdp #the dragon prince #if anything here gets repurposed for fanon s6 and u notice it no u didn't

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ghouljams · 10 months

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I have become absolutely OBSESSED with your Cowboy!141 fics! And I just have to ask... pretty pleaseeee could you write about how goose met Soap? I gotta know if Soap was equally as surprised to find out the cap had a daughter! anywaayyyys, I love your fics! And I hope you know your amazing!!! <3333

Goose and Soap met years ago! They met after Soap’s punching an officer fiasco, Price offered him a place to stay while the whole thing blew over. This is where I tell y’all that Price and Duck got married quick and young, typical military move, and Price tended to keep his family life to himself while he was working. So Soap didn’t realize he was going to be dealing with a high schooler when he agreed to spend a few weeks laying low, but they were thick as thieves almost immediately(much to Duck's chagrin).

Two things happen when Soap steps through customs. First: he realizes how fucking hot the American south is in the middle of July. Second: he is immediately accosted by two women he’s never met before. Or one woman and one teenager who looks rather embarrassed by her mum’s antics.

“Sergeant MacTavish, right?” The woman asks, and he nods to be polite. He was told he’d be getting picked up from the airport but this was downright familial.

“You can call me Soap, ma’am.”

“Why’d they call you Soap?” The teen makes a face.

“Goose, that’s enough.” Her mum tells her, in the same voice Soap used to get from his mum when he was being rude to strangers.

“Why’d they call you Goose?” He asks, scrunching his face up the same way, and watching the teen smile.

Soap is almost cool. He’s what you think having an older brother must be like. Plus you’re learning a lot of neat swears. He crouches next to you, twisting gas covered strings together to link the fireworks your mom bought.

“Yer aff yer heid,” You tell him, “Mam’s gonna kill you if you blow up the barn again.”

“Ah dinnae blow up the barn,” Soap hauls you to your feet and tugs you away from the mess, “Ah burned it.” He thinks a moment then moves you back another few paces. “Don’t move.”

“Aye that’s an idea I ‘adn’t thought of.” You tell him, taking an extra step back from the mound of danger.

“Why’d I let you help with this?” Soap asks, going to light the first fuse.

“Because I caught you nipping scotch from Momma’s reserve.”

“Bloody American drinking age.” He grumbles, clicking his lighter on and narrowly avoiding setting the whole kit ablaze.

Your mom calls the fire department about half way through your show and you both get a talking to from the fire chief. Soap only looks sorry he was stopped.

“Soap.”

“Go’way Goose,” He grumbles, turning away from you and tugging his blankets up over his head.

“Come on,” You whine, “you said we’d go shooting today, and it’s almost noon.” Soap grumbles further, a hand reaching out from under the blankets to smack around and check his phone.

“You keep yellin’ at me an’ am gonnae be cross,” He groans, tossing his phone and sitting up. He stares at you for a long moment, eyes narrowed and shoulders hunched.

“Howzitgoan,” You ask.

“Am fuckin’ trollied.”

“Don’t drink so late, now get your kecks on.” Soap smacks you with his pillow until you leave the room laughing.

“That your boyfriend?” Soap asks as you hop in the cab of the family truck. You make a face and click your seat belt on.

“Gross no, he’s just some ROTC dick’ead.”

“Enlistedmen more your type eh?” He jokes throwing the truck into gear and peeling away from the movie theater. You roll your eyes.

“With how often my Da’s off getting shot at? I’d rather shoot myself than be a military wife.”

#cowboy!Soap #oc: Goose #Goose 🤝Soap: adhd siblings #Soap years later giving Goose absolute hell for chasing after Ghost #“He's a cowboy now that's different”#as if Ghost isn't on his knees the first time she calls him lieutenant #johnny soap mactavish #soap modern warfare #They really just cause havoc the whole summer #it is one of the best summers of either of their lives #Price swears Soap to secrecy in exchange for letting him go back next year #Duck starts doing doctors without borders as soon as Goose goes to college

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miehczyslaw · 2 months

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AND THE LORD VISITED EVE WITH A CURSE AND THE CURSE WAS THE CURSE OF B L O O D.

#carrie white #neil josten #carrie 1976 #aftg #all for the game #fanart #marcydraws.jpg #blood cw #once more im catering no one but mE with niche crossovers #this was supposed to be for nathaniels bday on january 19th lmao pretend i time traveled or smth and i didnt post it super late #also first drawing of this year!!!!!!!!#it wasnt my intention to take such a long break from drawing but i was busy writing a fanfic exchange so 😮‍💨#hopefully now i can draw at least one doodle per month as usual :3

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fairyroses · 5 months

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— SMALLVILLE, "Lexmas" (5.09)

#IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAINNNN #god the way lex smiles in the first and last gifs makes me feel UNWELL #he's sooo precious and soft and happy 😭#also this is the first time I've noticed that lex silently mouths 'thank you' and lana mouths back 'you're welcome' right before they hug #now I'm wondering if that exchange was actually spoken and maybe they just cut the sound in post for some reason? hmmm #either way it's cute ❤️#smallville #smallvilleedit #svedit #lex luthor #lana lang #lexana #sv 5x09 #dcmultiverse #my gifs #so GUESS WHAT I've got a week and a half left of grad school then I'll be FREEEEEE and I'm gonna make SO MANY gifs #might just make this a whole month of posting lexmas gifsets tbh eheheheh

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witheredbouquet · 4 months

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drawn for the dragonyule gift exchange on twt, so glad that i could join this year! thank you for hosting, saint starfall ♥

i hope that everyone has a wonderful dragonyule & a happy new year!

#dragalia lost #dragalia lost fanart #fanart #dragonyule gift exchange #my art #if you saw this already no you didn't LOL #sorry i don't post/use tumblr much and i messed up orz #my recipient was ritte! i dunno their socials or anything so i can't tag/link em - but i hope they it c:#food is based on stamina consumables in dragalia lost! chibi beast volk is based off his dragalia mini comic appearance!#anyway. been a while since i've taken the time to “finish” up a piece (and well. have the time to draw at all) so i'm glad i could do this!#i think i'm proud of the final result even though i still have lotsa room for improvement #(desperately trying not to nitpick things and ultimately regret posting this urghghghhhng)#one of the first times i've drawn food! i feel okay with the result hehe #learned that there's a more active DL community on tw*tter for fanart and stuff and i've never been more tempted to join shjdakfasa #plus so many zines are twitter only and i can't see most of the posts without an account #but yeah no thanks just tumblr is overwhelming enough LOL #anyway happy dragonyule/happy holidays to anyone reading this! we've made it through another year—i couldn't be more proud of us!

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thebusylilbee · 3 months

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ive been sort of randomly rewatching Dr Who episodes based on my mood since the specials aired and man.. the Jack Harkness & Martha team ups were the fucking best ! just these two being heroes and bitching about The Doctor to his face while simultaneously being in love with him. tremendous fun really.

#season 3 and 4 are just *chef kiss*#also im gonna get murdered for this but I feel like we're all mature enough to exchange our opinions without drama anymore so ill say it :#Rose was both super fun and tragic but of all the first four seasons companions she's actually my least favourite now #I think it's bc the whole '19/20 year old girl gets the several centuries old guy's love' hits less once you stop being in your teens #I appreciate the ambiguity and tensions of the Jack and Martha dynamics more as well as the perfect (platonic) relationship with Donna #doctor who #martha jones #jack harkness

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compacflt · 8 months

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your use of names throughout your works is just sooo chef's kiss - I noticed that while you have the internal dialogue of Mav and Ice refer to themself/each other as Maverick/Ice and Mitchell/Kazansky for the majority of your fics, there are instances where they do call each other by their first names even before they 'talk about it'. I was wondering if you had any thoughts about the first time they called each other Pete/Tom? Any preceding events/emotions/conversations? Or did it just slip out?

LMFAO it’s when they first jack each other off LOL LOL

but aside from that the next times they call each other by their first names are: when bradley comes out to them (Pete), and literally 9/11 (Tom).

the whole “when they use names vs navy-issued identities” topic is one of those things I can’t talk about for too long without sounding like im sucking my own dick (bc im very proud of it) so ill just leave it there

#for instance maverick is maverick and Tom is just Tom here #wildly different levels of vulnerability it FEELS like #but yeah they’ll go YEARS between calling each other by their first names #which is why I said in the paragraph above that the implication is Mitchell literally FORGOT Kazansky’s first name #and he’s just trying to make sure he got it right lmfao #’your name is Tom right? ok glad we got that straight’#navy habit! It’s why they’ll never take each others last names!! they have to maintain their brand recognition #this Pete & Tom exchange is the equivalent of ‘i see you’ in avatar (2009)#i see you I love you i know exactly what you’re made of because i am made of it too #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #top gun #edts notes #is it arm’s length or arms’ length?#omfg.

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gojoux · 2 months

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I won 1st place on my first annual creative writing competition, I’m so happy rn 🥹✨

#ೋღ—私.#the fact that i earn first place over my seniors from english faculty as a first year... akkk they were so nice too 😭🙌✨ good sports #i honestly didn’t expect myself to win 😭#me and my new senior friends exchanged insta and numbers aww #never would have thought i’ll be writing about nature and ai combined

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toreii · 9 months

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