May 11, 2023
a story about girls that aren't girls at all
Loading...
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Brunei
seen from Sweden
seen from Oman
seen from Vietnam
seen from Netherlands
seen from Finland
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Poland
seen from China
seen from Canada
a story about girls that aren't girls at all
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
new chapter of myoy!!! just in time for top surgery asdghfg
Just wanted to drop by and say that I am obsessed with your trans queliot fic. I very much enjoy projecting myself into characters I like and you've given my the opportunity to do that with not one, but two characters at the same time. Writers don't get enough credit so here's me letting you know that it is very good and, as a trans guy who is starved for content that reminds me of my past experiences in a nice way, I appreciate it lots
🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much anon!!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
chapter 8 of my trans queliot fic is up! Just in time for Valentine's 🥰
wip Wednesday but it's called I haven't written anything in months
this is from the next chapter of myoy :)
Eliot ground his heel down on his lit cigarette. He watched the embers cool, painful red to cool black and kicked his shoe against the wet grass. It was dewey this morning. He lifted his shoe and grimaced at the mud caking underside. Fuck, these were his nice ones. Eliot scrubbed at his nose and pulled out his phone for the fifth time that morning. No new messages. He put it back into his jacket pocket.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
chapter 7 of my youth our youth is up! sorry y'all I had like a 2 month long writer's block đź’•
wip wednesday but no one tagged me i just like oversharingÂ
“It’s kinda like being at an airport?”Â
“An airport.”Â
“Yeah. You get this feeling that you’re too big and too small all at once, and in Times Square the lights are always on so even when it’s night your sense of time is, uh, kinda fucked with? Also, there’s like, so many people, it’s ridiculous actually. Jules’ mom got Mackenzie – her sister - tickets to see Spring Awakening and made us go with her. I don’t think, uh, Mrs Wicker actually looked up what the show was about.” Q laughed sheepishly. “But we went and saw it and it was just,” he gestured trying to come up with a word and dropped a card. “Shit! Uh, it was incredible. This one guy, he played uh, Melchior, he was just- yeah. I don’t really know much about musicals or anything, not like you.” Q smiled, soft and small. Eliot willed away his blush. “But it was really good. You would’ve liked it.”
WIP Wednesday (on a thursday lmao)
im not gonna stop doing these because they’re fun as hell
tagged by @ofthedirewolves lets do a double feature bc hell yeah
from my youth, our youth
 “Q-“ he turned beaming and stopped.Â
Q stood frozen, staring at the racks. Eliot watched him take a breath, then another. Then again. He couldn’t seem to breathe or hold still. He looked like he might break his teeth with how he was clenching his jaw.Â
“Okay,” Q said. “Okay, alright, um. Let’s just-” He pushed his hair back nervously from his face, trying in vain to get his bangs out of his eyes.Â
Q couldn’t seem to move. Eliot watched him try, watched him begin to lift his foot up and then freeze. Q glared at the men’s aisle. It was like he was willing it to come to him, to come closer so he could clutch at it and covet it close to his chest. Obviously, staring a frustrated hole into a Walmart bargain bin was not going to fly. Eliot’s pulse fluttered.
from court of strangers (unpublished still! just trucking along with this one)
It was true, he did have magic again. It was that familiar spark in his blood, spurring him forward and onward. He hadn’t noticed it when he first arrived because he’d been so occupied with the sea, but it was there. He’d realized all at once when Eliot had improvised a compass rose to help that teenager, Benedict, with a drawing on his map. He’d curled those long elegant fingers and twisted them, pulling some early morning sea mist into his hands, and shaping it. Quentin had felt stunned and then unsurprised. Of course, Eliot would have magic, for wasn’t Eliot made from magic himself? To Quentin, at least, it always seemed like he was.Â
Quentin flexed his fingers into the beginning of Popper-26 and then stopped, just to feel the energy shoot through him. He shook his hands like he was ridding himself of some last drops of water. Julia handed him the sprout; it was already a couple inches tall.
tagging @mizzy2k uhh @portraitofemmy and @hmgfanficÂ