#and maybe like six different breakdowns in a row

[sabrinatvband]

The making of a fake ad for my portfolio [comprehensive breakdown]

Here's a breakdown of how I made a fake advertisement for my portfolio.

For the past month or so I've been making some fake advertisements to show potential employers. Before making this manga ad I made a fake advertisement for Vinegar Syndrome's UHD of Freeway. When making these ads I use Blender for most things, but other software is used as well.

The origin of this project started with something completely unrelated; a photo projection recreation of part of my living space. The goal was to create my entire home in 3D for a short film I was conceptualizing. It's something I'll maybe revisit, but in the process I decided to use photogrammetry to create a 3D model of my bookshelf.

Photogrammetry is when you take a bunch of pictures of something and a piece of software, identifying common elements across multiple images, processes depth and other related things to make a 3D model. To create this model of my bookshelf I had to take 106 pictures, which wasn't much of a hassle. I used Regard3D and Meshroom to create different models using the same pictures. Surprisingly, Regard3D gave me a better end result.

The reason I say it's surprising is because Meshroom's website and operation generally seems a lot more professional and funded, while Regard3D's website won't even load for me [which might be because I'm using a VPN but I'm not going to check]. Regardless, almost any photogrammetry model is going to be riddled with weird imperfections, most commonly awkward bumps that don't exist in real life.

It's worth experimenting with both pieces of software; it may have been something about the specific set of images I used that created a less desirable end result with Meshroom. It's worth noting that the materials [basically textures but not] on the Regard3D model were broken when I put it into Blender, and I had to fix the shaders for it to render properly. Meshroom only works with Nvidia graphics cards. Both pieces of software are free. [Also, I used the Meshroom and Regard3D models in the ad. The Meshroom one is only used in the first shot.]

After making the bookshelf model I decided to make another ad. The reason the ad uses a vertical aspect ratio is because I made it after seeing a job listing looking for someone to make ads for tik tok specifically. I realized after basically finishing the demonstration ad that they were looking for an influencer and not someone who makes cool 30-second CGI things . . .

The reason the ad is about manga is because the manga books came out looking very good in the photogrammetry model, because most of the pictures focused on the manga books specifically. Also, it wouldn't have been a good idea to make two fake ads about Blu-Rays in a row.

Making the book models without the bookshelf was very simple; I took photographs of my books, measured their dimensions, and mapped the textures onto cubes in Blender. I used Sand Ripper to get the textures from my photos; Sand Ripper is a simple browser tool that allows someone to take a picture slightly out of perspective and make it "flat". Because it's a browser based tool I had to first scale down all the images in Gimp using a plugin that allowed me to bulk modify images. Because the spines of most of the books were so narrow they got very pixilated by Sand Ripper, I used the UV editor in Blender on the original pictures I took to get better spines.

Blender can basically do the perspective fixing on its own, and so you might be wondering what the point is of using an external tool like Sand Ripper at all. Basically it's just better and less confusing to use fewer images in Blender; only having two seperate materials for a book is better than six, one for each face.

For a few books I cheated and used one "page" texture for all three "page" faces. Also, some manga books have the spine on the left, and others have it on the right; it largely relates to the age of the book, but it's something that's very inconsistent either way.

Creating the shot with all of the manga pages was simple but time consuming, especially since I didn't want anything but the pages to be visible, which sometimes meant setting up an entire page just to cover up a corner in the shot. Turning on the "Import images as planes" add-on in Blender helped a lot; it's essential for any user. For whatever reason Blender's Eevee renderer has a glitch that made pages that were actually behind other pages look like they were infront, and so I used Cycle's render view for basically everything.

I used this Ian Hubert tutorial to give the pages a little bit of texture, and I did a little bit of loop cutting and knife tool stuff to add slight wrinkles to the pages. The video David F. Sandberg made talking about his "homemade" shots in Annabelle Creation was a big inspiration. I cheekily threw a page from Adam Warren's Dirty Pair comic on the bottom left, which is not a manga.

Some of the manga pages I found were a little too low res to use, and so I upscaled them using Waifu2x.

The mirror shot with the books falling took a long time to render but it was a very simple shot to put together. The pool shot was a bit more complicated. If you refer to the photo projection thing from the beginning of this breakdown you'll notice that the tiles in the pool are the tiles from my floor. Setting up most of this shot was very simple, but getting the caustics took a lot of hassle.

If you're not familiar with what caustics are, they're basically the white lights you see on the bottom of a pool, or when light passes through a glass of water. They appear in a lot of contexts but those are two of the most noticable ones.

Blender added "real" caustics to their software for the first time around a year ago, but people had been making do with "fake" caustics for a long time. Even today people still use fake caustics because Blender's real caustics frequently are so underwhelming it's hard to notice when they're turned on.

In the picture above you can see the node based shader editing I had to do to get the caustics to appear. I followed this Polyfjord tutorial, but this other tutorial by Cartesian Caramel also seems good.

I edited the video together in Kdenlive. Kdenlive is a FOSS [free open source software] video editor that's great for making short videos like this. Relative to something like DaVinci Resolve Kdenlive is lacking in features, and it's not suitable for certain kinds of professional work yet. But I find it very fast and intuitive to use. Maybe a few years from now it will become very competitive and feature rich and Avid users will still derisively laugh at it for no justifiable reason, but unfortunately Kdenlive hasn't found its cult yet the way many other open source softwares have.

There are two video files in the ad that have alpha channels. This requires encoding the videos in Blender using Quicktime. The rest of the shots used the AV1 codec; many of the files in this video are less than a megabyte in size using Blender's "perceptually lossless" setting.

For the text in the ad I used the font Shin Go, which I guess is the Japanese equivalent to Helvetica, at least when writing stuff in the Latin alphabet. It's probably most famous to English speakers for its association with the Wii.

The piece of music used in the ad is called Goth Slut (Wet Acid Mixxx). I recorded it a few years ago using a Volca Sampler and Volca Bass. It was recorded to be a soundalike of Aphex Twin's Windowlicker (Acid Edit). I thought it sounded austere in a way that was good for a "cool" advertisement.

I hope this breakdown answered any questions you may have had. I think the real takeaway here should be that it's very easy to create something interesting without a ton of technical know-how using Blender; if you come across something you don't understand, simply pull up a tutorial on your second monitor and follow along [make sure you have a second monitor]. Make sure you have a lot of RAM as well, especially for photogrammetry, or if you plan on using your computer while rendering; since I upgraded to 32 GB I haven't even come close to having a problem.

The other takeaway should be that I did literally all of this using free software. Barely over two decades ago the thought of making an ad filled with CGI imagery for free was inconceivable, but now it's no hassle at all. The other other takeaway should be that it's normal to use a lot of different pieces of software in a project like this. I've already mentioned Regard3D, Meshroom, Waifu2x, Blender, and Kdenlive. DaVinci Resolve has a free version that's very good and feature rich. I used MediBang Paint Pro to create the text PNGs. In many other projects I use Krita, a FOSS raster graphics editing program.

A final piece of software that was indispensable was Stéphane Claudon's Blender Render Queue. As you might expect it allows you to queue up a bunch of different renders so that you don't need to babysit them. It's essential for rendering a bunch of different shots overnight, or during a day you're mostly out of the house. I think it's marginally less resource intensive than using Blender itself, which is great if you're using your computer while stuff is rendering.

Hope you enjoyed the breakdown, and I hope I didn't inspire you so much that you make your own ad instead of hiring me.

[hydrospanners]

every doubt we had

like a scene from a nightmare he'd never admit to having, darth marr's ship goes down and takes his sister with it. rhese velaran has never had to live in a galaxy without nirea, and he's not sure he knows how. he leans on an unlikely shoulder while he figures it out. SWTOR genfic. M!Jedi Knight & Doc friendship (fraternity?) fic. Background Established F!Jedi Knight x Doc. Grief & angst. 3300 words. AO3.

The chrono reads 0300 hours. 0400 hundred until their arrival on Coruscant. 17 minutes since he checked last.

 Rhese turns his eyes back to the ceiling. Landing prep starts at 0600. He could still get three full hours of rest if he could just get to sleep.

 He draws in a slow, deep breath, willing his racing heart to slow. There is no emotion, he reminds himself. There is peace. No emotion. Peace. No emotion. Peace.

  Peace, peace, peace.

 Peace is a damned lie. There’s only war, constant and consuming. War, where the players may change but the game never does.

 He’s fucking tired of war. Tired of running and killing and being too little, too late. Tired of leaving people behind.

 Marr’s flagship explodes in his mind’s eye. Again and again, a bloom of sparks and flame stretching up and out until it’s nothing, fizzled out. Until the space where she was is nothing but dust and cannonfire and distant winking stars.

 Blood rushes in his ears, the pounding of his heart the only sound in the heavy quiet of simulated night.

Dammit. Rhese taps the comm by his bed, wincing away from the bright blue-white gleam of the indicator light. Teeseven answers immediately, chirping a greeting that’s no less cheerful for having possibly lost his master. His friend.

 “Any communications?” Rhese asks, and the comm terminal flashes, hundreds of messages flooding the screen. From the Council. From the Senate. From SIS. Saresh. “Anything from--” Even if she had survived, she would have had no way to send word. Not yet. “Any new information on Nirea?”

 “Jedi = still missing,” the droid reports.

 It’s what he expected, but knowing the knife is coming never made the cutting hurt any less. He swallows his disappointment. “Keep an audio sensor to the ground. Let me know the second you hear anything.”

 “T7 = Looking. // Jedi = Still alive.”

 “I know, Teeseven.” He’s reasonably sure, anyway. “Thank you.”

 The indicator light blinks out, leaving Rhese alone with his thoughts.

 He remembers a time when he would have killed for this kind of quiet. A chance at sober reflection. Isolation. When he believed peace could be achieved from structure. When a steady heart and an ordered mind were still his best chance at salvation. Or absolution. He’s still not sure what it was he spent all those years looking for, but he’s pretty damned certain it’s gone now.

 Ringing fills his ears again. Someone’s talking shit about you, Ranna used to say. An old Corellian superstition, or maybe a spacer’s. She had so many superstitions it was hard to tell which was which.  Either way, he didn’t inherit Ranna’s penchant for mysticism and the only person who’s ever cared enough to talk about him anyway is--Well, the point is that it’s just a symptom of his hearing giving out. He’s been meaning to have Doc look at it for a while now, but there never seemed to be any time.

 Rhese glances at the chrono. 0321 hours. 21 minutes since he checked last.

 He gets up and dresses quickly, trying not to think of all the shit Rea would give him for picking the robes. The ship is dark and silent, the passageways empty this deep into the night. Not that anyone is actually asleep. Rhese can sense the crew in their quarters as he passes them, all awake despite the hour, all pretending not to be.

He senses Kira’s restlessness. It’s familiar to him as his own anxiety, and he can almost see the defensive hunch in her shoulders as she paces back and forth in the too-small space of her bunk. He can see the little wrinkle between her brows as she kneels, trying her damndest to meditate. He can see the tremble in her hands as she opens up her saber, taking it apart and putting it back together as many times as she has to for the adrenaline to fade.

 Rea would have gone to her. Would have laid upside down on her bed while Kira ranted, absorbing all her rage and being the soft place to land once it was spent.

 Rhese keeps walking.

 He senses Rusk’s tension. How tightly he’s coiled, primed and ready to strike at the first actionable target. He pictures Rusk standing at his worktable, the lines in his forehead cutting deep as he methodically disassembles his cannon. He pictures his hands, rough but nimble as he cleans every part, as he sets the chrono to time his reassembly. He pictures the way he keeps glancing at the comm, twitching at every noise like it might be the news he’s waiting for.

 Rea would have offered to spar. She would have worked him until his muscles were loose and warm and tender, and then she would have worked his mind, cracking open some shitty beers to swap stories about the stupid shit they did when they were young and green. He would have laughed like only Rea could make him laugh. He would have slept a little easier.

 Rhese keeps walking.

 He senses Scourge’s fury. It’s a raging wildfire, consuming everything it touches and Rhese can almost hear the groan of metal bending beneath Scourge’s fists as he burns, feeding everything around him to the furnace of his anger. He is hungry to destroy, to quench the flames in his heart with carnage and violence. He wants a fight.

 Rea would have given it to him. She would have poked and prodded until he lashed out, swinging his lightsaber at full limb-severing power, nothing held back. She would have let him. She would have matched him blow for blow until his fury burned itself out and when it was done, she would smile and complain at the scorchmarks in her deck.

 Rhese keeps walking.

 He senses Doc. Alert and focused, thrown completely into some project or the other. There’s none of the usual thrill he feels from Doc when he’s working, none of the anticipation or pride. The purpose of his work doesn’t matter right now as long as the work is consuming him, leaving no room for other thoughts. For worries.

 He feels clear and steady in a way the others don’t right now, and Rhese sees, just for a moment, what it is that Rea must see in him. What it is that draws her to him.

 Rhese enters the medbay without knocking, his left ear ringing.

 “You should be asleep,” Doc says, not looking up from the viscous green liquid he’s measuring. Beneath the goggles Rhese can see his eyes are puffy and shot through with red. “Got a long day ahead of you.”

 “And you don’t?” Rhese raises a brow, folding his hands in front of him. He tries not to think what jokes Rea would make about his posture. Something about the stick up his ass.

 Doc just snorts. “I’m not a Jedi. Nobody cares what I think. Here.” He puts the green liquid down and pulls a small metal tube from his pocket, tossing it to Rhese. “Take one of those. It’s a low dose; should only put you down for an hour or two.”

 “You carry sleeping pills in your pocket?”

 “You’ve met my wife, right? About this high--” Doc raises his hand a foot over his own head “--brown hair, blue eyes, great ass. Only sleeps if you make her.”

 Rhese smiles, feeling none of the usual discomfort and inadequacy he feels when he has these chats with Doc. For once he doesn’t mind being reminded what a giant Rea is in everyone’s mind, how much taller she seems despite being shorter than him by four inches. For once he isn’t embarrassed and annoyed by the reminder of his sister’s very active sex life. For once, he just feels… fond. “I may have seen her around,” he says.

 “Well if you see her again, you tell her to come home. Her family’s worried.”

 Do you hear that Rea? Your family is worried. Rhese wonders if she can feel their concern. He wonders if she can feel anything at all. He can’t feel her. She’s always been good at hiding, and there were years on Tython when he couldn’t separate the feel of her from the rest of the Force, but he could still feel that she was out there somewhere, could still feel their connection. This is the first time she’s ever just been gone, a hole in the Force where the tingle of her warm, fervent energy is supposed to be.

 He reaches for her on instinct, and the void he finds in her place leaves him cold. For the first time in his life, he feels really alone. Careful what you wish for, Liss always warned him. You might just get it.

 “You okay, kid?” Doc, with his bloodshot eyes and exhausted pallor, is watching him carefully, his brow furrowed in concern. Rhese can only think how he’s going to get wrinkles, scrunching his face up like that. How Rea’s going to kill him for aging her husband prematurely. ‘I only married him for his looks,’ she’ll say. ‘Now I’ll have to trade him in for a younger model.’

 Rhese laughs a short, humorless laugh. Is he okay? “I’m going deaf,” he says. “In my left ear.”

 Doc sighs. “Sit down.”

 Rhese does as he’s told, climbing onto the exam chair and pushing his shoulders back, trying to keep his chin up. Trying to hold it together because someone has to now that Rea’s gone.

 But there’s no point. That pinch in Doc’s brow says he isn’t fooled, that he knows too many of Rhese’s secrets, sees too much through Rea’s eyes. It says there will be no fooling him and Rhese can’t find the energy to try. He tips his head back against the chair and lets his shoulders sag, only a little embarrassed by his ragged sigh of relief.

 “Ringing?” Doc asks, wheeling over one of his scanners. He pulls a headset with an alarming number of wires from the drawer.

 Rhese nods. “Started a couple months ago, but things have been--” He thinks back to Ziost, to Tython, to Manaan. To all the blaster fire and running and death. “Well, you know how things have been.”

 “No kidding. I’m surprised your ears lasted this long, the way you Jedi go on.”

 “You mean the way Rea goes on.” She’s had cochlear implants almost as long as she’s been a Jedi. Went in for her first operation the day the treaty was signed, not even a year after Marefka scooped them up on Corellia. He’d been on Tython at the time, but he’d read the reports from her surgeries. It had taken six. “Most Jedi don’t spend so much time getting blown up.”

 He sees the explosion again. Marr’s flagship consumed by inferno, sparks and flame spitting from the cracks in the hull, a ring of fire expanding slowly around the whole fizzling mass. The only sound the static of the comm crackling over the speakers, the echo of her last words ringing in his ears. His own voice, shouting Rea’s name.

 Rhese flinches.

 Doc’s hand settles on his shoulder. “She’s gonna be fine,” he says, and there’s something in his eyes, in the warmth and certainty of his voice, that makes Rhese turn away. It feels too familiar. Too much like--Rhese can’t feel her in the Force, but he can feel her in the tender way Doc is looking at him, in the way Doc is caring for him, gently and thoughtfully, like family.

 Stars. They are family now, aren’t they?

 Doc’s hands are steady as he lowers the headset onto Rhese’s forehead. The nodes are cold but Doc’s fingers are warm as he massages them into place along Rhese’s forehead and around the delicate insides of his ears. And if he notices the way Rhese shivers, Doc is merciful enough not to mention it. “I know you’re worried, Junior, but this is Rea we’re talking about. She’s survived way worse.”

 If anyone knows what Nirea Velaran can survive, it’s Doc.

 “But it doesn’t take worse,” he argues. “One stray blaster bolt. One piece of shrapnel. One mistake.” Force knows she makes mistakes, no matter what she’d have people believe. “She’s not indestructible.”

 Doc says nothing. A stream of rhythmic beeps fills Rhese’s ears.

 He knows she’s alive. This nothing--the gap in his consciousness where she’s supposed to be--it’s not what death feels like. Rhese has felt death before. He’s felt it in strangers and in allies and in friends. He’s felt it in family. In Ranna. In Qarric and Daeleth. He would have sensed his sister’s death. He would have felt a piece of himself die with her.

 Hell, if she was really dead she’d probably be here, complaining about it. She’d be haunting him the way Master Orgus Din haunted her, refusing the peace of death just so she could pester him.

 Rea has to be alive. But for how long? And where?

 Doc lifts the headset, gently peeling back the little nodes as he goes. “How do you feel about implants?”

 Rhese sighs. “Resigned.”

 “I’ve got a friend on Coruscant. She might be persuaded to do it for free.”

 “Persuaded?” Rhese raises a brow, very nearly smiling. “Just what kind of a friend is this, Doc?”

 “Don’t get your panties in a twist, that was a long time ago. I’ve got no interest in persuading anyone but your sister these days.” He pauses, considering. “Well, no interest in persuading anyone without her, anyway.”

 “Ugh.”

 Doc laughs, and it’s an effort to not laugh with him.

 He feels better. No one is more surprised by it than Rhese--if you’d told him back on Balmorra that Archiban Kimble would ever make him feel anything other than annoyance and disgust, he’d have laughed you into the next sector--but here he is, sitting in the medbay and feeling better for having Doc there with him.

 Here he is, sitting in the medbay because it’s where he wanted to be. Because it’s where his feet carried him when he was feeling lost and alone and there was no Rea to collapse into.

 He’ll have to tell her when he sees her again. That she chose well. That he loves this little family she’s built. That he’s grateful and he’s happy and if she ever leaves him again he’s going to lose his starsdamned mind because he can’t keep doing this--

 “Hey.”

 Rhese blinks and finds Doc’s eyes boring into his. Dark and bloodshot and so, so serious. Worried. Scared. For him.

 “Breathe, kid.”

 Rhese realizes he hasn’t been. He gasps, once, twice, until his lungs remember how they’re supposed to work. He tries to recite the Code, but the words keep getting jumbled in his head. It’s like everything he’s been trying not to think and not to feel is breaking free and rushing over him all at once. “I feel like I’m drowning,” he confesses, voice tight like it’s trying to hold onto the words, trying to keep that truth hidden. “I don’t know what to do.”

 “Must run in the family,” Doc says, surprising a small, shaky laugh out of him. “Now c’mere.” He opens his arms and Rhese only hesitates for a second before sitting up and leaning into him, his forehead pressed to Doc’s chest, hot tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. They start to fall when Doc’s arms wrap around his shoulders.

 At least it isn’t blood. Doc’s always complaining about how many shirts he loses to bloodstains; tears should be easier to clean. Rhese doesn’t know why he’s thinking so much about Doc’s shirts, but he can’t seem to make himself stop. And he can’t stop thinking how that’s a stupid thing to be thinking about at a time like this. Can’t stop thinking how he’s blowing this out of proportion. Can’t stop thinking he’s not taking it seriously enough.

 He can’t stop thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking.

 His breaths are coming too fast and too shallow, desperate, ragged things just barely escaping the tightness of his throat, and his skin feels so hot. Too hot. He wants to climb out of it. He wants to climb out of his whole body and just--He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants but he knows everything is too much.

 Doc pulls him in tighter, blunt nails scraping gently at the nape of his neck, and it’s so much like--His mind swims with memory, of nights spent curled into Rea’s lap, of her body wrapped around his like a shield, of her fingers in his hair, her kisses on his forehead, her voice in his ear, whispering how she’ll protect him, how she’ll always be there no matter what, how it’s the two of them against the galaxy.

 Where the fuck is she now?

 “Me too, kid. Me too.”

 “I don’t want to lose another family.” Rhese whispers the words into Doc’s chest, his eyes squeezed tight against the brutal truth of them. A brutal truth he’s been hiding from for years now. Years of keeping people at arm’s length, of reciting Codes and turning his back and telling himself he’s above it all. Years of trying to keep himself from connecting with anyone because he was so fucking scared of having another connection break.

 You can’t lose what you never had, he reminds himself, thinking of the rest all locked away in their cages, drifting to their own orbits in the absence of Rea’s gravity to draw them together. They were Rea’s family. They’re always just Rea’s. Never yours.

 But then Doc is kissing the top of his head, just like Rea would, and holding him just like Rea would and he can’t be doing it for her cause she isn’t here to see it. He can’t be doing it for any reason but--

 “You aren’t losing anything,” he says, with so much conviction that Rhese almost believes him. “I don’t know where Rea is or what she’s doing, but I know her. I know she loves you more than anyone in this galaxy, and I know she won’t let anything keep you apart for long. She’s coming back, kid, and we’re all gonna be here when she does.”

 Rhese thinks of Tython. Of ten years’ worth of secondhand reports and unanswered messages. Ten years of lonely nights and insecurities. Ten years of waiting.

 “It could be awhile,” he says.

 “We’ll wait.”

 “I waited for ten years last time.”

 “We’ll wait.”

 Rhese lets his eyes fall shut, tilting his face up to the ceiling as breathes a long, shuddering breath. “Okay,” he says, his throat a little looser, his chest a little lighter. “Okay.”

 He sits like that for a long time, listening to the slowing rhythm of his heart and the quiet gurgle of Doc’s equipment, bubbling away on some experiment he doesn’t want to know the particulars of. Listening to the distant ringing in his left ear. He flexes his hands against the exam chair, feeling the cool, smooth fabric shift beneath his fingers, and with each slow breath he feels the sharp sting of chemical cleaner burning his nose.

 Doc is still standing there when Rhese opens his eyes, the little tube of sleeping pills back in his hand. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you,” he says again.

 This time, Rhese takes the pills.

 He curls onto his side on the exam chair, and when Doc lays his lab coat over his shoulders, Rhese pulls it up to his chin and breathes deep of the cologne that always seems to rub off, just a little, onto Rea’s clothes. It makes him feel warm and the drugs make him feel hazy and Doc, steady, certain Doc, shuffling around the medbay behind him and never leaving him alone--Doc makes him feel safe.

 By 0430, Rhese is finally asleep.

[vinylspinning]

The Gary Moore Band: Grinding Stone (1973)

I can’t even begin to guess (or maybe I just don’t want to) what this cover art is supposed to illustrate ... but I know a confused, rudderless album when I hear (and see) one. 

50 years after its release, Grinding Stone is a good reminder that even the most naturally gifted (*) musicians often need some time to mature and hone their raw talents -- even Northern Irish guitar great Gary Moore.

Encouraged by his concert promoter father from an early age, Gary was singing on stage at six, strumming his first guitar chords at ten, and soon performing with semi-pro bands like The Beat Boys (who, as you can guess, mostly covered Beatles songs), Platform Three, and The Method.

By the time Moore crossed the border at 16, in 1968, to break into Dublin’s booming late ‘60s rock scene, he was duly recognized as a six-string phenom and didn’t have to wait long for local veterans Brendan ‘Brush’ Shiels (vocals, bass) and Noel Bridgeman (drums) to recruit him into their band, Skid Row.

For the one-hundredth time, not THAT Skid Row!

Alas, neither one of the band’s two LPs for CBS, 1970’s Skid and ‘71′s 34 Hours, fared all that well, so the impatient young guitarist decided to strike out on his own with The Gary Moore Band, featuring bassist John Curtis and drummer Pearse Kelly. (**)

The resulting Grinding Stone, which was produced by the one and only Martin Birch (Deep Purple, Whitesnake, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, etc.), effectively showcased Gary’s precocious virtuosity and versatility, while exposing his inchoate songwriting and lack of direction.

The instrumental title track uncorked nearly ten minutes of jazz fusion powered by fluid solos reminiscent of Frank Zappa, “Time to Heal” delivered punchy, muscular blues-rock, but “Sail Across the Mountain” blew it with its sappy balladry, topped by Gary’s overly ambitious vocal flights.

“Energy Dance” was a futuristic synthesizer intro for another wordless marathon -- “Spirit” -- that doesn’t need an intro, since it rolled along for a whopping 17-minutes of genre-straddling chaos, including more fusion elements, sizzling guitar solos, a proggy keyboard mid-section worthy of Yes’ Rick Wakeman, and even a Latin rhythm breakdown inspired by Santana (congas and all!), ahead of a blazing hard rock finale.

By the time the slide guitar workout of “Boogie My Way Back Home” wound things down the die was cast on a confounding musical journey -- and a commercial flop; so Gary had an easy decision to make when his old Dublin running mate, Philip Lynott, invited him to replace Eric Bell in Thin Lizzy.

But it turned out to be a bad decision, because, within months, Moore and Lynott locked horns over creative and chemical differences, and the guitarist exited after working on just a few tracks and solos over his four-month stay, including “Still in Love with You” from Lizzy’s ‘74 opus Nightlife.

Luckily, respected British drummer Jon Hiseman (who’d played with The Graham Bond Organisation, John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, and others) had taken note of Moore’s facility for fusion and lured him to join Colosseum II in 1975 for a fruitful, three-album run.

By the time Moore was tempted back into Thin Lizzy in ‘78, his professional experiences were that much closer to catching up with his pure talent, and they served him well when he relaunched his solo career, finding great success as one of the ‘80s’ top metallic guitar shredders with albums like Corridors of Power, Victims of the Future, and Run for Cover.

* If there is such a thing as ‘naturally gifted’; I, for one, think it’s a combination of aptitude, opportunity, and commitment, because lots of people around this world never have the opportunity, and even fewer the commitment to devote the necessary 10,000 hours to their craft. 

** As well as session guests Philip Donnelly (rhythm guitar), Frank Boylan (bass), and, most crucial of all, Jan Schelhaas (keyboards).

More Gary Moore: Back On the Streets, "Parisienne Walkways," Dirty Fingers, Live at the Marquee, Corridors of Power, Rockin’ Every Night, Victims of the Future, “Shapes of Things,” We Want Moore!, Run for Cover, Wild Frontier, Parisienne Walkways, After the War; plus Skid Row’s Skid & 34 Hours; Colosseum II’s Wardance; G-Force's G-Force, Thin Lizzy’s "Little Darlin'," Black Rose.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Positively Pregnant

BTS Reaction to your pregnancy test finally coming back positive.

Warning: Vomit (Morning sickness)

Namjoon

He waits anxiously in the living room as you take the test, wringing his hands.

When you don't come out after 15 minutes he starts to worry and goes to find you

You're sobbing on the floor when he walks in

Immediately he is at your side telling you it'll be okay you can try again

You're crying too hard to tell him, so you hand him the test and he freezes his soothing motions

Tears well in his eyes as you watch for his reaction

Suddenly you're being lifted off the floor and carried towards your bedroom he lays you down carefully, but he doesn't let go.

His hands trail down your sides and lift the hem of your shirt.

He leans down and presses hundreds of kisses into your tummy as you giggle, trying to wriggle away from your husband's affectionate assaults

Seokjin

You find out while he is on tour

There's only a month left so you don't tell him

He would only want to fly home immediately and there's nothing for him to do yet

Hiding from him is torture when he checks in everyday and all you want is to spill the secret and see the joy on his face of finally…

But you know it'll be worth it

He comes home to string flower petals leading to your closed bedroom door

He opens it to find a tray of goodies laying out for him and a jewellery box with a note that says ‘find me waiting in the bathroom’

He doesn't open the box too eager to see you after so long he takes the box and heads straight for you

He is more than confused to find you sat on the closed toilet lid in a fluffy bathrobe instead of in a bubble bath like he was usually greeted with

You roll your eyes and gesture to the unopened box he still looks very confused at the little white stick displayed under new cufflinks that read “daddy”

Eventually you just stand letting the robe fall to display your rounding belly.

The shock finally hits him, and he sweeps you into his arms, cradling you close with one arm, the other hand on your stomach.

Yoongi

You are out shopping with your little boy

Daddies black card burning a hole in your pocket as you treat the birthday boy

You’d just finished lunch when the overwhelming urge to vomit hit

The next three days you struggled to keep anything down

Yoongi eventually convinces you to go to the hospital even though you think he's being a bit dramatic for a stomach bug.

The news you are six weeks pregnant hits you like a truck after what the doctors told you last time

It's one of the few times Yoongi lets you see him cry off stage.

Hoseok

It's a joke when he says “maybe you're pregnant” after developing a weird craving for spray cheese on salt and vinegar crisps

This wasn't even that weird

You laughed

It's not exactly out of character for you to try weird food combos

Except spray cheese is disgusting

You still feel a little silly when you go out to buy the test

Lo and behold the little plus mark appears and you are left in shock

Fully on autopilot you walk into your kitchen test in hand

Hobi looks up confused, glancing at your outstretched hands and makes one of those noises only he can

He sweeps you off your feet and dances you around the kitchen pulling you out of your shellshock.

Jimin

You'd never seen someone so excited yet so close to an obvious breakdown

There are 30 swatches of paint on the wall of the spare room by the end of the week

Trying to remind him that if there is still 32 weeks to go does not slow down the process

He enlists the boys while they have time off because he is worried he won't be around to help as much when their schedules pick up again

Every detail is run by you before it's placed in the nursery

And he has a baby shower party planned long before your second scan.

Taehyung

The moment the at home test comes back positive Tae has booked you in for a hospital scan

You sit in the private hospital room twitching as you wait for the ultrasound technician to come in

Taehyung squeezes your hands reassuring you after so many negatives and false starts

This time feels different though

Eventually the doctor comes in and you lie back ignoring the discomfort that comes with a transvaginal ultrasound

It was early on and you needed to be sure

The doctor’s brows furrow and you steal your nerves for the news that it was another false alarm

“Are you prepared for the possibility of multiple births?”

Taehyung can't contain his excitement head whipping to look at your pale complexion

The doctor doesn't get to say triplets before you’ve blacked out

You thought you were around 12 weeks and starting to show

Nope! Six weeks and very bloated

Jungkook

Five nights into your private luxury yacht honeymoon you are vomiting over the side of the rails while your very confused half naked husband watches on

You're taken to the doctor at the next port

You laugh when he suggests pregnancy you've only been off birth control for a month now

Everyone said it would take forever and you'd already waited for so long

Turns out the universe just didn't want you living in sin

They did several tests

Each positive

You do wish the little bean could have waited to make you sick when you weren't living on a boat for a month

You cut the trip short

But JK already had you rebooked for six months after the due date for your first family holiday

Masterlist

Tomorrow: SMUT! specifically somnophilia

Still one day of reactions left if you want to suggest something.

Tell me about your kinks

[digital-dhampirs]

thank you very much for the ask, @kachowwwww !

I did do a covernalysis for Vol 3, which you can read here: [https://digital-dhampirs.tumblr.com/post/168641851375/here-it-is-the-beautiful-twosome-vanitas-no ], but after staring at the cover of the volume for a little while I’ve started to notice some stuff I didn’t see way back in my original post from 2017. So! I will be doing an all new (hopefully improved) covernalysis four years later! oh by the holy glow of the blue moon it’s been four years

this is technically a part 2, but it’s completely separate from the first part! feel free to just read one or the other..!

VnC Volume 3 covernalysis: part 2

Volume 3 is our first cover featuring multiple characters together, and boy is it a fantastic way to start the trend! Vanitas and Noé lie peacefully in a pool of water, a golden frame between them. There is a Lot going on here, so let’s get started with breaking down the frame!

Volume 3’s golden frame is absolutely dripping in Chasseur imagery— the frame is decorated with stacks of skulls similar to those in the catacombs, the design in the frame’s corners is just like the Chasseurs’ six- winged sword symbol, and at the top of the frame we see the high- ranking vampire skull Roland shows our protagonists in chapter 14. Vol 3 contains chapters 11 through 15 of the manga— the time leading up to and the beginning of Vanitas and Noé’s adventures in the catacombs— so these Chasseur designs seem very relevant. We see one of those ever- present butterflies perched on the dead vampire’s skull, a symbol of transformation and rebirth.

We also see daisies growing in one section of the frame, possibly symbolizing innocence, purity, rebirth, fidelity, and/ or new beginnings. Maybe these daisies symbolize the new developments for Vanitas and Noé’s relationship during and after the events in the catacombs? Or maybe they’re a callback to an old Celtic myth in which daisies grew to console parents after the loss of a child? Or maybe something else!

The other plant featured on this frame is ivy— a symbol of attachment, immortality, fidelity, and eternity. Both daisies and ivy have something to do with eternal life and eternal faithfulness, which is very interesting considering Vanitas’s eventual demise. Ivy is a plant that holds on to things and doesn’t let go, which is pretty neat considering the events of chapter 53..!

There’s one last part of the volume 3 frame I want to mention before moving on to the rest of the cover— the skeletal hands adorning it. Two of the hands are holding the inside edges of the frame, reminiscent of the hands on Vanitas’s frame in volume 1, and two more are holding the vampire skull in a manner eerily similar to the way the Teacher’s hands frame Noé’s face on the cover of Volume 2.

The volume 3 frame has a lot of lil details combining aspects of Vanitas and Noé’s frames from the two previous volumes— the rectangular shape of Vani’s frame with the skull at the top, the row of beads and stick bone decoration thingys (if anyone knows what those things are please tell me I’ve been wondering what they are for literal years at this point) from Noé’s frame, the skeleton hands from volume 1 in the Teacher’s position from volume 2… the Volume 3 frame might have a lot of chasseur elements, but it’s also a combination of Vanitas and Noé’s symbolic details, once again indicating the pair’s developing relationship.

And with that I think we’re finally done with the frame! Now it’s time to tackle the main subject of this ask, the boys themselves.

Vanitas, smirking, shows his mark from Luna to the viewer. The Book of Vanitas rests on his stomach, and he has two more marks of possession on display— Jeanne’s mark, which is bright red, and a duller purple mark on the other side of his neck. We don’t know who this third mark is from yet, but just based on the mark’s color palette it seems pretty likely it’s from Noé. Unlike the marks from Luna and Jeanne, though, the purple mark isn’t leaking out onto Vanitas’s clothes— it’s just there, like a bruise, and the only place its color is really echoed is on the Book. I don’t really know what this means and I suspect we won’t find out until Noé drinks Vanitas’s blood in uhm… chapter… 105… but it’s a notable difference nonetheless!

Moving from Vanitas to his partner in crime! Noé is lying above Vanitas, with the chain from the Book of Vanitas wrapped around his arm. He’s wearing the comfortable sleep clothes he wore in chapter 11 and seems to be calmly watching Vani as the latter shows off his mark from Luna. Noé’s right hand is resting on the Book of Vanitas’s chain, but he isn’t trying to remove it or snap it, he’s just touching it.

The chain around Noé’s arm reminds me quite a bit of another piece of official art,

But on the Volume 3 cover, the chain around Noé’s arm is Noé’s classic purple-magenta color, rather than Vanitas’s cobalt blue like it is in the official art. This difference in color (along with the drastically different poses between the cover and the official art) makes the official art look far more aggressive and confrontational, while the cover image looks much more peaceful and relaxed despite the chain.

The chain’s color on the Vol 3 cover makes me think that, unlike in the official art, Noé is in control of what’s going on and is choosing to keep things this way. He could get rid of the chain at any time, but keeps it wrapped around his arm. In a way, it’s tying him and Vanitas together rather than dragging them apart.

So we’ve covered the frame, we’ve talked about our protagonists… all that’s left to talk about from this cover is the background/ whatever’s going on with the water Noé and Vani are lying in! And honestly? This is another one of those things I have no ideas about. Water symbolizes a lot of things— life, purity, the moon, transformation, and a whole lot more. But I don’t quite know why Vanitas and Noé are lying in it beyond ‘it looks very pretty’.

One thing I do know for sure, though, is that there are shards of glass lying in the water with the boys. Where might those shards have come from…? My best guess is that the frame between Vani and Noé was originally a complete mirror or picture frame made out of glass, but at some point it was shattered, and now the boys are able to lie down side by side between it.

The internal walls separating Noé and Vanitas start to crumble with their argument during the ball and conversation on the roof, and fall apart a bit more during their time in the catacombs. It’ll still be a very very long time before they can even approach the idea of fully understanding each other, but at this point in the manga they’re slowly getting closer and learning to walk side by side.

Annnnnd with that, I think this covernalysis is complete! For now. Thank you so much for reading this ridiculously wordy covernalysis, and thanks again for this ask! Thinking over a cover again four years after my initial analysis was a truly unique experience— maybe in 2025 I’ll come back to this cover one more time and cringe at this analysis the same way I’m currently cringing over my 2017 cover breakdown. Hope you enjoyed this meta/ analysis/ confused rambling thing!

Fun Fact

This volume’s inside cover features the lovely Dominique! Domi doesn’t feature too heavily in this volume, but she plays a major role in Chapter 12, and we learn a lot about her true feelings for Noé during the chapters she’s in. The color scheme of this inside cover is particularly notable when compared with the vibrant yellow and magenta of Domi’s volume 8 cover— Domi isn’t exactly colorless here, but she’s definitely quite desaturated compared to her volume 8 appearance. The magenta color reflecting on her hair and bow actually seems quite close to.. that… faded………. purple….

[p-artsypants]

P-Artsypants Fic Masterpost!

This information is always available on my blog. 

Find most, if not more, of these fics on:

Fanfiction.net | Archive of Our Own | Wattpad

(~AU’s, *Finished, ❤️Author’s Favorites)

Kingdom Hearts

~❤️Rage Awakened AO3 | FF.net- Ten years ago, Terra, Aqua, and Ventus lost their fellow apprentice, Sora, in Deep Jungle. Now, they are to return with two new students, Riku and Kairi, to lock the heart of the world. All the while, something watches from the trees. Feral!Sora AU

My Kingdom for a Heart AO3 | FF.Net - The curse of being one of the Princesses of heart, is that there’s always someone out to get you. As Xemnas looked failure in the face, he reached out in a last ditch effort and destroyed Kairi’s heart. Now her friends must travel the worlds again. Sora, to find a way to recover Kairi’s heart, and Riku, to make amends to those he has wronged. All the while, the darkness grows. [Unfinished, on permanent hiatus]

Miraculous Ladybug

One Shots

*❤️Amalgam- When an young man is rejected for being ‘incompatible’ he turns into the akuma ‘Amalgam’ able to fuse two people together. And later Adrien and Marinette would debate if it was lucky or unlucky that they got hit. (Also Available in Russian)

*Sing We All Noel- After receiving the worst Christmas present ever from his father, Chat Noir finds himself out on the streets with nowhere to go on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, Ladybug finds him and brings him home.

*Speechless- In a world where everyone has a soulmark, the first words their soulmate will say to them, Marinette is born without one. But Adrien Agreste has two. Curious, considering he’s mute.

*❤️Tunnels of Love- The night started out with an accidental kiss from Adrien Agreste, and ended with her bleeding in the Catacombs of Paris. Ladybug, the wielder of the miraculous of good luck. Yeah right. (Some blood)

*The Reveal That Wasn’t- First Parts My ending to kittybug’s Tumblr Prompt

*What A Mess We’re In- Ladybug has a lot on her mind, and when Chat Noir bugs her enough, she tells him she’s going to confess to her Crush, Adrien Agreste. Chat’s reaction is not what she’s expecting.

*Oblivi-oh no! - A retelling of Oblivio, except Ladybug is the only one to lose her memory. How will Chat deal?

*Bad Day (3 chapters) - Marinette was Ladybug! This was Adrien’s luckiest day ever! Except it wasn’t, because all his good luck was used up in one go. Turns out this might be the worst day of his life.

*One Win, So Many Losses- Marinette was forced to break up with Adrien. It had been a low blow from Gabriel, to be sure. But she was Ladybug. She’d find a solution…right? An alternate ending to Chat Blanc, where Adrien doesn’t Cataclysm the akuma.

*❤️Five Minutes- Gabriel has had enough of all these girls fighting over Adrien. He decides it’s high time Adrien picks one, and arranges the perfect opportunity for him to do so. Each candidate has five minutes to present why they’d be a good girlfriend. Marinette decides to take this opportunity to shoot her shot.

~*Panache- Every eligible maiden was invited to the Prince’s ball. That included Marinette, scullery maid in her own household. But her stepsisters destroyed her dress, and she can’t go to the ball in rags. Or can she? (Cinderella!AU)

*Perfect, No Matter What-In which Gabriel sets the bar even lower for himself, a reveal happens because of pain medication, and the new guardian actually goes to Chloé for advice.

*Crushed- Stuck under a collapsed building together, Chat Noir and Marinette have a heart to heart.

*Lovelace- Convinced that he's unlovable, Adrien is quickly thrown for a loop when Marinette confesses her love for him out of the blue. An akumatization and reveal later, he changes his mind about being unlovable.

Long Fics

*❤️Longest Night- (FF.net | Ao3) - The day started out sucky to begin with. Her crush ousted to the class and Adrien. Lila taking pride in exacting her revenge. But by the time patrol was over, a young man was dead, and Ladybug’s identity was at risk. Lila was the least of her concerns. Good thing Adrien was taking it all like a champ. (Rated M for scenes of torture)

*❤️Nine Lives- (FF.net) When Adrien Agreste is scheduled to go to a Military School in Germany, Chat Noir must make a critical decision. Does he give up his Miraculous? Or does he give up his life as Adrien? I’ll save you the trouble of guessing, he gives up being Adrien.

*Tender Words- When Marinette finally gets the guts to confess her feelings for Adrien, some things go so wrong, and other things go so right.

*Integrity- Overwhelmed with her responsibilities, guilt, and drama, Marinette has an emotional breakdown in front of everyone, and even hands over her earrings in a moment of weakness. Only for a few seconds, but the damage was done. Adrien’s pretty quick on the uptake like that.

~Much Obliged- Everyone deals with grief differently. Some take to drinking, others devote themselves to charity. Adrien Agreste? Well, he became a cowboy. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a witch, one of very few in the world. She knows what it’s like to be doubted, and assumed delusional. Maybe that’s why they got along so well. Or maybe it’s just because they both like big hats. AU where everything is the same, except instead of superheroes, Adrien is a Cowboy and Marinette is a witch. (Unfinished) (Based on a AU by @bugaboo-n-bananoir)

*I’ll Handle This- “I’ll solve all your problems,” Plagg had said. “You just have to agree to it.” A fixed relationship with his father, Lila to stop bothering him, and Ladybug to fall in love with him? Who wouldn’t agree to that? Except Plagg was the God of Destruction and Chaos and had a more…hands-on approach. Adrien just wants his body back. (Body swap fic)

The Ghost of Smokey Joe- Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

How To Train Your Dragon

One Shots

The Vikings Have Their Tea (FF.Net | AO3)

Arranged Marriage- Takes place at the beginning of HTTYD

❤️Breathe- Survival of the fittest

~Childhood Friends- At the Sandbox

❤️Easy Fix- In which Hiccup has a bad day

~Fashion Designer- Astrid needs a fill in

❤️Frozen- In Which Astrid takes a Dip and things get frisky (Rated M)

❤️Headache- In Which Hiccup hits his head….really hard

❤️Heir- In Which Hiccup is Picked (Longer version by FateCharms)

Illness- In Which Stoick is a dad

~Illusionist- Trick gone wrong

~In the Walls- In which there’s a poop ghost

~Knocking On The Wrong Door (2) - A chance encounter

❤️Messages- Astrid is Frustrated with Hiccup’s obliviousness

~To Mirkwood- Hiccup is not a dwarf

~Monster Falls- Hiccup and Astrid take a dip

❤️Mute- In which there’s a quiet stranger

~Music Video (ImgHS)- He didn’t expect it

❤️Operation: Lovebirds- In Which the gang makes a plan, and Hiccup gets Drunk

~Over- Too many nightmares

~Partners in Crime- A normal day at work

~Pirate- Astrid is the greatest treasure

~Prince- He doesn’t want to be a broken King

❤️Sorting Things Out- In Which Astrid gets her ducks in a row

~The Dragon and The Dame- Beauty and the Beast Au

The Pit- In Which Hiccup is rescued

Hide and Seek- Part 1

Lost and Found- Part 2

Long fics:

*❤️Infernal Responsibility- Being the son of the chief takes brains, courage, and a lot of patience. But at his father’s the request for marriage, Hiccup decides he has had enough. When he seeks out a life of ease, he runs into more than what he bargained for.

*❤️Roses and Lilies- “Astrid, you and I both know you’re much tougher than I am. You’re more brave, and a better fighter…but just for a little while…could we pretend that I’m the one protecting you?” “Oh gods yes!” (Also Available in Spanish!)

*~What the Water Gave Me- The sea is a wild and dangerous thing, something that cannot be foretold or predicted. Hiccup discovered this many years ago, in human naiveté. Yet, what was meant as a sacrifice became a new life, one like no one could comprehend. He now finds himself once more in the unknowing hands of those that sentenced him to death. He only prays things will be different this time. Merman!AU

*Parasite- Soulsnatcher Dragons are rare but deadly. But, As Hiccup finds out, it’s the eggs you have to watch out for.

*~320 State Street- Gobber’s Goods. A Hardware Store that was rumored to have everything you needed. She thought she only needed a job. Turns out, she needed a lot more than that. (A Modern AU no one asked for)

*~❤️The North Tower- When Finn Hofferson died, Astrid inherited his castle in Wales…and a whole lot more. Something sinister lurks in the North Tower.

*~❤️Boy Toy- AO3 - At the age of 21, Princess Astrid lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker to create one for her. It’s safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned. (Pinocchio!AU I guess?)

No, You Go First- AO3 - The Chief of Berk was a headstrong viking, stubborn and full of pride, and willing to do whatever it takes to keep his village safe. But for a moment, he puts that aside, and listens to his son. In which Hiccup convinces his dad not to make him go through Dragon Training, and the subsequent changes that follow.

*In Due Time- AO3 - As another illness sweeps through Berk, Gothi needs another ingredient for her medicine…one that doesn’t exist anymore. Fortunately, she kept that old spell book around for such an occasion. Big Hiccup is sent to five years into the past, and his younger self sent to take his place in the future. But it’s only a few days, what could go wrong?

Trollhunters: Tales from Arcadia

❤️Arcadia or Bust- In Which Arcadia welcomes back it’s underground citizens.

Teen Titans

Oneshots:

~Big Brother- Don’t turn out the light (Horror)

Dear Jason- Bruce Writes a letter

Just Drawing- Bruce thinks about Robin

The Prisoner- Starfire is Guilty

Of Mustard and Three Foot Purple Tongues- A collection of Oneshots and Drabbles

Long Fics (*Finished):

*~❤️Carol of the Bells- High in the dark Bell Tower of Notre Dame, there lives a mysterious bell ringer. Legend tells of the angel who fell from the sky, and the curse she bares. There are few who know her true identity though; her master, the priest, and the acrobat that performs on the streets below. Based loosely on ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ RobxStar and slight BBxRae

*No Escape- Three years ago, Starfire escaped an Alien race called the Gordanians, to arrive on Earth. They’re back, and ready to put Starfire back where she belongs, behind reinforced Titanium bars. Robin’s not about to let her go…if only he hadn’t got captured first. How does it feel to be the alien, Robin?

*Now you Know My Pain- When the new Villain, Gender Bender, comes to down, the Titans find themselves in an odd situation. They’ve been turned into the opposite gender against their will! Now in order to change back, they must learn to understand the gender they’ve turned into. Rated T for obvious reasons. A great read if you’ve ever wondered why girls or guys do [blank].

*Paint it Black- Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City’s crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a relation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself? Actually, contains NO OC.

*Saving Grace- “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk upright or speak coherent sentences and all you’ll see is my mask and my voice repeating in your head…Weak. Richard Grayson, I am not tough, I am everything that you fear.” Happy Ending! Smudge of RobStar. NO Slash!

Other Fandoms

Final Fantasy XV

❤️Requiem for Pitioss-“O King. The god’s have heard your cries. Know that we weep with you. The Oracle’s calling has not yet been fulfilled. But…Lunafreya as you know her cannot return the way she was.” Noctis looked up, hopeful. “But she can return!” Canon divergence from Chapter 9. Happy ending. Some spoilers.

Final Fantasy X

I Do…I Guess? - “I would…like to ask you something.” “Shoot.” “Well…if it’s not too much…I’d like to ask you…to marry me.” Knowing what’s to come during her pilgrimage, Yuna asks Tidus to marry her, strictly for convenience and having an official next of kin, of course. Starts after Luca and how this decision would affect the rest of the story.

Beauty and the Beast

*❤️Behold the Beast- A Oneshot alternate ending to the Animated Film

Cinderella

*❤️Midnight- “When the clock strikes twelve, the spell will be broken,” the fairy godmother had warned. A retelling of the story, when Cinderella doesn’t escape the ball in time. Oneshot

*So This is Love- What if Jaq and Gus hadn’t made it in time to help Cinderella? A new twist on the ending of the classic Fairytale, and what lies beyond the story. She still gets her happy ending and her Prince, and her step family gets their just deserts.

Sleeping Beauty

*❤️A Love Song Back To Me- Maleficent saw the loophole that stared her in the face. Prince Phillip would break the curse in time, for sure. After all, he was betrothed to Aurora. So in an effort for her evil plan to stay in action, Maleficent takes care of the young prince herself. Phillip never imagined having to live off the land like the birds above. Alternate twist on the classic Disney tale.

Escaflowne

Down Feathers- Hitomi’s depressed. She’s been away from Van too long, he comes back to visit her…but what if something went wrong with the transfer? (Not finished. Never will be finished. Mwahaha) Circa 2012

*Angel’s Wounds- Fanelia’s been victorious in their most recent battle with Basrum. Unfortunately, someone is wounded and just seeks solace in his love that lives so far away. Post Anime.

Momma Look Sharp- With the war between Fanelia and Basrum finally coming to a close, the kingdom is celebrating. The young king, however, is suffering from an experience unlike any he had before. Van finally seeks solace in his wife.

[herding-octokittens]

Six Notable Attempts at Baking the Best Cookies Ever

Three updates in three days???? 

@mechanismszine I’m only like nine days late for this one! And more are coming!

AO3

(I totally restructured my entire ao3 organization because of an adhd/caffeine fueled breakdown, so please be patient with me)

The Toy Soldier had a mission.

It was a mission of it’s own choosing. There were no orders associated with this mission, no strings attached or people to please. In all of it’s maybe-existence, this was the first time the Toy Soldier could recall having a mission like that.

It liked the feeling, it thought.

The mission was simple enough in theory, but it had been years now and the Toy Soldier had yet to succeed. It was determined, with all of it’s wooden heart, to make the best damn cookies, ever.

The criteria for what made a cookie the best possible cookie were quite simple. If all of the Mechanisms liked the cookie, it had no option but to be the best. The Toy Soldier’s friends had such differing tastes that if it could make a cookie all of them liked, it had to be good. No, not good. Perfect.

~~~

Re-sequenced spinach cookies had been the first attempt.

According to Nastya, the octokittens liked the re-sequenced spinach. The octokittens were known to eat anything and everything they were fed, but the Toy Soldier decided that would be as good a place as any to start. It found an old recipe book in a back corner of Ivy’s library, and found a sugar cookie recipe that seemed simple enough. To make sure there was enough re-sequenced spinach to be noticeable, the Toy Soldier decided to replace all the sugar in the recipe with powdered re-sequenced spinach.

The cookies glowed when they were done, but so did half of them food on the Aurora on any given day, so the Toy Soldier figured they were fine. When it finally found the rest of the Mechanisms and offered the batch to them, only Raphaella agreed to try one. She seemed rather pleased with the result even if it wasn’t as sweet as she was expecting, but she also died seven seconds after declaring so.

As far as the Toy Soldier knew, that was not normal for cookies.

~~~

Gunpowder cookies had been the second attempt.

Gunpowder was most definitely not fit for human consumption, but neither were gasoline and ethanol and Ashes drank both of those on a semi-regular basis. And the Toy Soldier knew that Gunpowder Tim very much liked gunpowder and other explosives. It extrapolated that he would probably enjoy a cookie that tasted like one of his bombs.

The sugar cookie recipe still seemed like a good starting point, and given what little feedback Raphaella had provided, it decided to leave the sugar in as directed. Instead, it replaced the flour with the gunpowder. There were so many white powders required for cookies, removing one seemed like it would be fine.

Tim had taken one look at the cookies, and walked away without a word. The Toy Soldier thought that was probably very rude, but given that half of the cookies had exploded in the oven and the other half made rather interesting clunking noises when dropped, perhaps not.

~~~

Chocolate chip cookies had been the third attempt.

The Toy Soldier had entered the kitchen on the fourth day in a row (the third day had resulted in a failure that need not be discussed) to find Marius already waiting for it. He was sitting on the counter, flipping through it’s recipe book, humming thoughtfully.

“Hello Marius, Old Chap!”

“Oh, Toy, you’re here, good.”

“You Have My Recipe Book!”

“I do, yeah. I thought I might make a request.”

“Do You Have A Favorite Type Of Cookie? I Can Make It For You!”

“Yes! Well, no, but I might!” Marius hopped off the counter and set the book down, open to a page near the back.

“I Don’t Understand!” the Toy Soldier said, walking over to look at the book over Marius’s shoulder.

“I’ve never actually tried a chocolate chip cookie, but I’ve wanted one for a long time.”

“Oh! That Sounds Like A Very Good Idea Indeed!” The Toy Soldier declared, immediately moving to collect the ingredients. “Do You Have A Specific Flavor You Wanted? Raphaella Says That Re-Sequenced Spinach Cookies Tasted Very Good, And I Imagine Chocolate Would Just Make It Better!”

“Um, just chocolate. You don’t need to add anything else,” Marius said. The Toy Soldier thought he seemed very unsure of himself. “Sometimes, simple flavors work best.”

“Well That Is A Lovely Idea! I Will Make You Plain Chocolate Chip Cookies!”

The cookies had actually turned out very well, it thought. None of them glowed. None of them exploded. None of them melted in it’s hands.

By the time the Toy Soldier had found the rest of the crew and gathered them in the kitchen to try it’s latest attempt, the octokittens had eaten all the cookies that Marius hadn’t. Surprisingly, none of the Mechanisms were disappointed.

~~~

Snickerdoodles had been the fourth attempt.

This attempt was shortly curtailed when the Toy Soldier discovered that there was absolutely no cinnamon anywhere on the Aurora, and there were no planets within eighty five light years that grew cinnamon trees.

According to Ashes, the cinnamon-free cookie dough was still rather tasty, but this only came to light a week after the Toy Soldier had scrapped that attempt and obliterated the dough with obscene amounts of fire. It wasn’t sure what cookie dough Ashes was referring to, but it was somewhat hesitant to ask.

~~~

Peanut butter cookies had been the fifth attempt.

The Toy Soldier was quick to learn that Jonny was quite allergic to peanuts, a fact none of the crew had ever before had reason to discover.

For once, the Toy Soldier thought Jonny had a legitimate reason to attempt to throw it out of the airlock. The problem with Jonny’s revenge attempts was that Jonny couldn’t get within ten meters of the kitchen or the Toy Soldier without going into anaphylactic shock and choking to death.

After a week of distanced rage and declarations of murderous violence, Jonny and the Toy Soldier came to a hesitant truce that involved a very purposeful lack of both airlocks and peanut butter.

~~~

The Toy Soldier was on the verge of giving up.

This was a mission it had given itself. There had never been any orders for it to obey, so it could choose to stop at any time. It knew this. It wanted to stop, but it was this far in. It couldn’t stop now. It was so close! It just needed to try one more recipe, and then everyone would love the cookies and it would have made the perfect cookies and made everyone happy.

Hoisting itself to it’s feet, it spun towards the mixing bowls and came face to face with Ivy, Marius, Raphaella, and Ashes.

“Oh, Hello Friends,” it said, moving around them to get to the counter and begin spreading out the ingredients. “How Are You All Doing?”

“We’re good, Toy Soldier. How are you?” It was Marius who responded, voice hesitant.

“Oh Jolly Good, Jolly Good.” There was a brief, whispered discussion from behind it, before Marius stepped forward into it’s peripheral vision.

“Really? Because it kinda sounds like you’re, you know, not so good.”

“No, I’m Perfectly Fine, Marius.”

“Toy,” Marius spoke gently, bringing his hand up to it’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

It paused for a moment, thinking. Something was most definitely wrong, it now realized. It just didn’t know how to explain.

“What Type Of Cookies Do You Like?”

“Toy, that’s really not what we’re talking about,” Raphaella said, stepping up to it’s other side.

“I Know, Raphaella. But I Want To Make You All The Perfect Cookies. I’m So Close To Figuring It Out, I Just Need To Make The One More Batch!” It tried to put on a smile, but despite the permanent one painted on it’s face, it could tell the attempt fell flat.

“Why don’t we help you?” This time it was Ivy who spoke. “I don’t have much baking experience myself, but I know every recipe from every planet we’ve ever visited.”

“I’m really good with an oven,” Ashes added. “I even know how to not blow them up!”

“And I’m pretty good with chemistry. That’s all baking is, when it comes down to it,” Raphaella said with a smile.

“It’s really not, Raph, but that’s what I can be here for,” Marius laughed. “So what do you say, Toy? May we join you?”

This time, the Toy Soldier’s smile was much more genuine, and it nodded.

At some point, Jonny and Nastya entered the kitchen, and ended up making a batch of frosting based on an old Cyberian recipe. Brian wandered in just as the first batch was ready, and ended up being the only one who wanted to take them out of the oven. The Toy Soldier was intrigued by the fact that cookies needed to be removed right at the timer. Waiting until the oven cooled down was evidently not right, and explained many of it’s previously burned batches. It resolved to buy oven mitts the next time they touched down. Tim claimed he could smell them from across the ship, and showed up just in time to get involved in a rather vicious frosting war. 

At long last, the cookies were ready.

The Toy Soldier could say with absolute certainty that they were the best damn cookies. Ever.

[tibbinswrites]

Hi! Could you do #9 for Destiel? Thanks for sharing your awesome work with us :D

Hi Nonnie! You’re so very welcome, thank you for sending in a prompt!

So this is shameless fluff. You might want to brush your teeth after reading ;)

(prompts are open. Send me a number between 1 and 635 and I’ll write a thing for you)

I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #78, #170 and #502 

and I have prompts in progress for #33 and #77 but all the others are fair game :D

Enjoy ^_^

Prompt #9: “It’s fine.”

“What do you think?” Cas asked after calling Dean into their bedroom. His eyes were too-bright, frantic almost, and Dean tried not to feel uncomfortable under the unhinged intensity of his boyfriend’s stare as he looked at the dresser.

Cas visibly deflated before Dean even had a chance to react. “You hate it,” he said dolefully, his face scrunching up like he was about to cry and Dean was definitely not panicking. “I messed it up and you hate it.”

“No! Don’t you dare! It’s done. You did it and it’s done and I’m proud of you.” Dean said quickly. Cas had locked himself up here six hours ago, after their trip to Ikea ended with a purchase that Dean had been very much against in the first place. The dresser was large, with drawers of different shapes and sizes and opening mechanisms and colours. Of course, Cas had fallen in love with the thing on sight, saying that it looked magical, like it contained a different secret in each compartment. Dean had argued that it was impractical. It wouldn’t fit most things that people put in dressers, like clothes, nor would it go with the rest of the room. But Cas had pouted and pleaded and Dean was a weak man and folded after about twenty seconds of those blue eyes, though he had joked that he wouldn’t help assemble the thing… he was regretting that now.

“It’s horrible.”

“It’s fine,” Dean insisted, ignoring the way that one side was longer than the other, and how none of the handles looked the way they had on the assembled one in the store, or how there were large gaps where Dean was pretty sure something was supposed to be and at least seven ‘spare’ pieces that had been hastily shoved back into the box.

“I ruined it!” Cas wailed, falling into Dean’s chest, clearly exhausted and past the level of frustration where he was capable of being reasonable.

“I think it looks great,” Dean lied, kissing the top of Cas’ head. “But if you like, I’ll take a look at it after dinner and see if I can polish it up a little.”

Cas sniffed and pulled back to look up at him, the hope in his eyes turned Dean’s insides into a gooey mess. “Really?”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Dean said, guiding Cas out of the room he’d been sequestered in all day (at his own insistence; Dean had been trying to coax him out since hour three, offering his help, and food, but Cas was a stubborn son of a bitch when he’d made a deal). “I made lasagna.”

Cas cheered up a little during dinner, though he kept rubbing at his eyes so Dean insisted he go and sleep in the spare room while Dean worked on the dresser in their bedroom so he wouldn’t be disturbed. Cas was too tired to argue and headed to the downstairs bedroom after two helpings of lasagna and assurances that Dean wouldn’t stay up too late.

Xxx

Cas awoke the next morning in a bed that was too soft and without Dean’s warmth next to him. He sat up and looked around. The spare room was nice, if a little cramped, what with the double and the twin bed shoved in, just in case Sam and Eileen and Gabriel converged on them at once, or indeed if Charlie showed up (in which case they’d all cram in together, Charlie was a huge fan of sleepover-style gatherings and although Cas had thought it strange at first, he’d soon grown to love those evenings as much as the other two). Cas had definitely slept in worse places, but he hated waking up alone.

It hadn’t used to bother him much. He’d never been the clingy type, even prided himself on his independence (which had caused a whole host of problems with previous boyfriends), but when he met Dean, with his disarming smile, those forest-deep eyes that spoke of mischief and safety, and the kind of ‘all-in’ attitude that had terrified him since Dean let it show on their fourth date, Cas had never before so badly wanted to be included. Dean was funny and charming and cared so deeply and so fast that it was impossible not to get sucked in. Of course, all that openness hid a whole bunch of insecurities that Castiel had blundered into without realising, which made for a difficult few weeks and several uncomfortable conversations with Sam before Cas realised that this thing they had was too important to him for him to be able to cut and run like he had done so many times before, that Dean was too important to him.

They’d learned to navigate each other, slowly. Cas learned that Dean needed a lot of reassurance, especially after or during an argument, and Dean had figured out how to draw Cas out of his own head when he was scared and overwhelmed and get him to talk rather than run away when things got hard and six years later Cas had never been happier. Even after all this time Dean’s smile set off butterflies in his belly, his laugh still warmed something inside him and his presence was grounding and safe. He’d never relied on anyone the way he’d come to rely on Dean, and though that sometimes sent his head into a downward spiral, Dean was always there to help him through it.

They just fit together seamlessly, filling in each other’s empty spaces. Dean made him laugh until he snorted milk out of his nose and then laugh even more at that, he made Cas feel reckless and brave, willing to try things that he normally wouldn’t even consider and had started to dismantle the cocoon of indifference he’d been wrapped in his whole life. Cas in turn had been privileged to watch Dean’s bravado bloom into confidence, to listen to him talk without fear of being interrupted or told to shut up, to watch him sink into calm moments rather than trying to make them large and important, to hear him ask for what he needed rather than trying to be strong for everyone else.

Cas smiled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, the other side of the bed was cold and unmade; Dean must have slept in their bed once he was done with the dresser rather than coming all the way downstairs.

The dresser… Cas buried his face in his hands in a moment of self-indulgent embarrassment. He’d loved the dresser in the store, how whimsical and thrown together it looked, like something made by the fair folk. He’d always loved stories about magical portals and something in him had just reached out with a childish wonder that had surprised him. He didn’t care that it wasn’t practical, didn’t care that the wood was the wrong colour and that they had nothing to put in the thing, he had wanted it, and Dean, because he was a selfless, wonderful man who did everything he could to make Cas happy, had indulged him. Dean was the handy one out of the two of them, but he had said that in exchange for purchasing it, he wouldn’t help put it together and Cas had agreed. He had wanted to honour that promise.

Of course, there was a reason that Dean was the handy one. Cas was pretty sure he’d lost his mind somewhere around hour four, abandoning the instructions completely and trying to cobble together some parts from memory alone.

Cas padded up the stairs to the bathroom, grimacing in the mirror at how red his face was at just the memory of his mini-breakdown. Dean had been so sweet about it, telling him that it just needed tweaking when Cas knew very well that Dean would have to pull the whole thing apart and start again.

Once he’d taken care of business and brushed his teeth, he made his way to the main bedroom and opened the door.

The dresser was the first thing he saw, placed on the far wall directly opposite the door. It looked just as magical and full of secrets as it had in the store, each compartment a beautiful mystery. It clashed horribly with the rest of the room but Cas didn’t care, it was perfect.

He turned to look for his boyfriend, to thank him for fixing it and to apologise for his overreaction the night before. But Dean wasn’t there, he wasn’t curled up under the covers, sleep-warm and soft—in fact, it didn’t look like the bed had been slept in at all.

“Dean?” he called, expecting to hear a reply, from the bathroom, from the kitchen downstairs, from anywhere, but there was only silence.

Maybe Dean had gone out already? Cas glanced at the clock, it was barely 9 am. He looked back at the dresser, frowning, and then noticed a small, yellow square of paper stuck to one of the compartments on the top row. Curious, Cas bent down to read it.

Open last.

Cas tilted his head and scanned the other compartments for any other instructions, but there weren’t any. So, leaning back a little, half-expecting one of those fuzzy snake things to leap out at him, Cas opened the top left drawer.

Inside was a mixtape. Cas picked it up to look at the label. Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx. Still confused, but smiling a little, he opened the next compartment along, this one didn’t pull out like the previous drawer, but instead there was a small shutter to lift, revealing another mixtape. This one was labelled Cas’ Happy Tunes.

Cas knew that Dean liked to make tapes. He’d spend hours on them and listen to them only in his car. He didn’t show them to Cas, or let him riffle around in the box on the floor of the passenger seat. They were, in fact, one of the only things that Dean didn’t share with him, his only secret hobby. Cas had always been insanely curious, and sometimes Dean would play one of the tapes on long road trips and get him to try and guess the title Dean had given it. So far, Dean said that Cas hadn’t got a single one right. Not that he was allowed to check.

Cas moved on to the next compartment, pressing on the wood gently so the door popped open. This tape was labelled Why I Love Him. Cas felt the smile on his face creep ever wider.

He kept on opening the compartments until there was only one left. There were eleven tapes in total, not including the first three, they were titled:

Second Date Mix

Songs That Sound Like Him

Valentine’s Day 2017

He Loves Me Too

Dean’s Sad Music

Holiday Tunes

Cheer up, Grumpy-Butt

When I Knew

He laid them all out carefully on the carpet next to him, and stared at the small cupboard with the yellow post-it on it for a long time.

“Open it,” came Dean’s soft voice from behind him, though how long he’d been there Cas couldn’t say. He didn’t look back at him. This one would be important, he knew; when he opened the final piece of the dresser, everything was going to change. He stood—as the indicated drawer was a little too high for him to comfortably open from his knees—and reached forward with a shaky hand to flip up the latch to open the drawer. There was a slight rustle behind him that he barely heard as he peered in. It was empty. Cas drew in a breath as he turned to ask his boyfriend what was going on and found Dean on one knee, a mixtape in his palm, the label face-up and clear as day and the breath caught in his throat.

Our wedding playlist???

“Dean,” Cas exhaled, tears pricking his eyes. Dean looked unsure for a moment, and fumbled with the tape, almost dropping it as he scrabbled for his pocket.

“I’ve got a ring too,” he said quickly, pulling out a black velvet box from his jeans. He was still in last night’s clothes, his jaw unshaven. Had he slept at all? “I know you hate the idea of a proposal without a ring.” He flipped open the box to reveal a simple, elegant band of white gold and Cas was still struggling to kick his brain into gear or indeed do anything but gape at Dean like a confused fish.

Apparently, his silence stretched on too long for Dean, who swallowed, looking nervous. “I’m sorry it seems kind of thrown together,” he said, beginning to ramble. “I bought the ring months ago. I wasn’t exactly planning to do this over a dresser, but you said it looked like it was full of secrets, and you’ve always said my tapes are like a secret and I just thought it was different, you know? A bit more… us?”

“Dean,” Cas said again, falling to his knees and taking Dean’s stubbled chin in between his hands. He felt tears beginning to fall from his eyes and he couldn’t care less. “It’s perfect. Yes, I’ll marry you. Of course I will. I love you so much.”

“Love you too.” Dean countered, his voice raspy. Cas pulled him in and Dean reached for his left hand, slipping the ring on without breaking the kiss. They kissed and kissed until Cas tasted the salt of their mingled tears, until he felt so giddy that he had to laugh, and his laugh set Dean off laughing and soon they were just holding each other, Cas’ face buried in Dean’s neck, Dean clutching him as though he never wanted to let go.

“I’ve never been more glad to be useless at carpentry,” he mumbled.

Dean chuckled again before pulling back, his eyes shining and happy and beautiful. Cas felt joy swelling within him, filling up every dark corner that Dean had found light in. Yes, of course he would pledge himself to this man forever; this brave, kind, thoughtful man who listened to him like he was interesting and loved him like he was worthy. Truth be told, he already had a long time ago.

[astreetcarnamedwynn]

fic writer tag game

I was tagged by @danger-flammable​. Thank you so much for thinking about me! This was a lot of fun, giving me the opportunity to stroll down memory lane for a while. :D :D :D

Fandoms: A veritable shit-ton as I am a fandom old. In descending story total (complete, WIP, and crossovers of various lengths):

MCU: 37

Supernatural: 19

Veronica Mars: 13

Buffyverse: 12

Harry Potter: 6

Yuri on Ice: 6

Smallville: 4

Daredevil: 2

Gilmore Girls: 2

Persona 5: 2

Bungou Stray Dogs: 1

Final Fantasy 15: 1

Firefly: 1

Game of Thrones: 1

The Hunger Games: 1

My Hero Academia: 1

Voltron: 1

I didn’t write fic for five years, so I usually divide my fandoms into Phase 1 (Supernatural, Veronica Mars, Buffyverse, Harry Potter, Smallville, Gilmore Girls, Firefly, and the Hunger Games) and Phase 2 (MCU, Yuri on Ice, Daredevil, Persona 5, Bungou Stray Dogs, Final Fantasy 15, Game of Thrones, My Hero Academia, and Voltron).

Where You Post: AO3 (under Wynn). I usually post notifications about AO3 postings on Tumblr, rather than complete stories. Back in the day, I posted on FF.net (Wynn) and Livejournal (jwynn). There are links to these old accounts and the stories posted there on my Tumblr if anyone is interested.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Fic: I’ll stick to the AO3 era. My most popular stories are “Sixty Impossible Things” (Yuri on Ice, Podium Family Centric) with 6197 kudos and “That Which You Seek” (MCU, Wintershock) with 5997 kudos. I’ve been lucky to capture lightning in the bottle twice, so to speak, as there are so many different variables that go into a fic being popular.

Favorite Story You’ve Written So Far: This is so hard because I’ve been writing for so long. Here are some fics/fandoms that stick out as memorable and meaningful:

I like a lot of the Supernatural fics I wrote way back in the day (seasons 1-3). I think I did some cool stylistic things in them, especially “Communication Breakdown” and “Tiny A’s All in a Row.” I feel like I started to come into my own as a fic writer during this time.

I have a lot of affection for “Remebrance of Things Past,” my massive MCU WIP. It’s the fic that got me back into fic writing again after 5 years. I’m still in awe of some of the action sequences I planned (one spanning five chapters and, like, six different locations and plot lines that all converged into one disaster). Some of the nicest comments that I’ve ever received were about that fic, despite the fact that I went rare-pair happy with it (Loki and Natasha, Steve and Sif, Clint and Darcy, etc.).

I can mix the first two bullet points and apply them to my Yuri on Ice stories. I still get giddy about some of the writing I did for “The Fire That Burns” and “Spectacles Long Thought Myth.” I just think that it’s so good. And, of course, I have so much affection for “Sixty Impossible Things.” It’s become so much more meaningful than I anticipated when I started writing it, and I’m still in awe at the responses I receive when I post chapters, even though it’s been so long since I started writing the fic.

Fic You Were Nervous to Post: There’s always some trepidation if a fic I’m posting has anything racy in it, which is why it’s rare for me to do so. Other than this, there’s always the nerves of “will this be well-received, will readers think I’ve kept the characters in-character, etc.,” especially if I’m posting for the first time in a new fandom, which happens much more frequently nowadays.

How You Choose Your Titles: A lot of the times they’re song titles or lyrics from songs or other works (“That Which You Seek”- song title, “Winter Giving Way”- song lyric, “The Unconquerable Will”- phrase from literature). Other times they’re a phrase from the fic itself (“Spectacles Long Thought Myth,” “Weirwood and Steel”).

Do You Outline: Usually, though I don’t rigidly stick to it. If an interesting path pops up in the course of writing, I’m willing to follow it. I’ve usually got a destination in mind, but I’m not always fixed on the paths taken to get there.

Complete: 94 stories out of 110.

In Progress: My eternal WIP “Sixty Impossible Things.” I truly hope to finish it this year. I’m working on the climax now, and there are maybe 3 chapters planned after this, though I often divide chapters as my scenes get kind of long. There are also a number of WIPs from 2018 and 2019 when I struggled with fic writing (“If One Wishes to Obtain,” “The Fire that Burns,” and “Red Roar Rising”). If I could return to “Sixty Impossible Things” after 14 months and then after 6 months and begin writing again, I could return to these as well.

Coming Soon/ Not Yet Started: I suppose I’ll be able to post my YoI Dreadfully Yours fic “Smooth Runs the Waters” sometime this year, once the ‘zines have been shipped to everyone. Beyond that, I’m not sure. I have ideas for fics, but no firm plans to write anything beyond trying to finish “Sixty Impossible Things.” Some of my ideas include:

Adding to “Winter Giving Way.” I’d brainstormed a chapter in which Chuuya discovers Akutagawa and Atsushi’s relationship. I’d also brainstormed a few chapters in which Akutagawa introduces Atsushi to Gin and Atsushi has to deal with his issues about homes and families.

Adding to “The Unconquerable Will.” I’d brainstormed Goro joining the Phantom Thieves in their fight against Shido.

I brainstormed A LOT of different Persona 5 fics, including one with Goro as Batman and Akira as Catwoman, an Ouran High School Host Club AU with Goro as the Tamaki-esque character and Akira as the Haruhi-esque character, one that explores Goro being a more of a direct tool of Yaldy (one of his angels, playing off the Justice arcana, keeping the order in Yaldy’s kingdom) and how he “falls” upon meeting Akira (playing off Arsene and Satanel being connected to hell and rebelling against Yaldy) by showing Goro the truth of the world.

Do You Accept Prompts: I sometimes reblog one of the “send me a prompt” posts, but I don’t usually get a response. I’m also such a slow writer that, especially now, I don’t want to divert fic writing energies from “Sixty Impossible Things.”

Upcoming Story You’re Most Excited to Write: I’m genuinely excited about trying to finish “Sixty Impossible Things.” People have been so patient and kind with their encouragement as I’ve struggled to write it. I want to reward that but also prove to myself that I can finish a fic of this length once again.

[catharrington]

only the 3rd weirdest thing 

Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington don’t talk, they don’t longingly glance, and they sure as hell don’t go to the same parties and play spin the bottle.

(2.9 k words. This is my first fanfic in this community~ I love silly tropes and this is literally just spin the bottle trope. But I also love a sad, ptsd struggling Steve. Enjoy, thanks!)

***

Steve was tired of parties. It’s all bullshit rang in his ears like a mantra, but yet here he stood. Outside Carol’s door knocking so softly he wished she wouldn’t hear it. But of course they were eagerly awaiting the arrival of King Steve.

Tommy and Carol opened the door and smiled in unison. It made Steve think briefly of twiddle dee and twiddle dum from Alice in Wonderland. He scolded himself for insulting his friends and forced a smile back. That’s why he had come to this party after all: Tommy and Carol are his friends! And it’s his senior year so the parties are louder and larger and he just has to be there or be square! Steve could hear the voice of Carol and her pink lipgloss saying those words to him last week. A hard clap landed on his shoulder and he was lead inside.

“Steve you actually showed!” She announced, her pink lip gloss toned up with a bright red one instead. It did nothing to hide her cruel smirk. There was a respectable amount of people already gathered in the house who were all equally interested in his arrival.

“Yeah, well,” Steve stood up tall and smiled, “couldn’t pass up taking some of your free beer?” He said so very cool. Like none of this bothered him, and there were not demon creatures living in the woods he fought off with a bat covered in nails the other month. Steve was interested in the free beer.

Tommy laughed his familiar laugh and said, “Let’s get this guy a beer then!” And just like that a beer was pushed into Steve’s hand. He didn’t need the peer pressure to want to open the can as quick as it was passed to him and start chugging it down. If being in this light has taught him one thing it’s the more you drink the better you feel. And right now Steve didn’t feel peachy. So he drank it all in one breath and reveled in the applause. Just like nothing had changed.

He crushed the can and passed it to carol who was graceful enough to take it and lead him to the kitchen to find more. He just hoped he wasn’t coming off as desperate to get drunk, but in honesty he was desperate to get drunk.

Three beers down and he was feeling warm already but not much happier when the door opened again. This time it wasn’t a silence waiting to be impressed, the crowd didn’t need pleasing. They erupted into another fit as soon as the new guest entered. Hot and heavy, Billy Hargrove strutted inside and shrugged off his jacket- giving the audience a good show of his open shirt. Tommy lunged to catch the leather before it fell, and gingerly placed it on the rack.

Steve grabbed another beer and drank it down. He hasn’t talked to Billy since he got his face beat in by the other boy. They had passed in hallways and played basket ball once in the short time, but they haven’t spoken a word to the other. Steve has noticed that Billy’s insistent glaring and snarling hasn’t let up. Usually when there is beef it ends with a fight, but something in Billy has yet to be quenched.

Billy basked in his greatness a minute longer before he too was ushered into the kitchen to get a drink and maybe put on a show of seeing Steve like he had at the last Halloween party. The audience was red hot for their meeting, and charged electricity was in the air. But Steve didn’t give them a show. He just kept leaned over on the island counter, in a very cool way, and buried his face in his can. Billy surprisingly did nothing but smirk.

There was a moment of silence in the crowded kitchen as the two boys stood on either end of the island counter. They watched the other: Billy like a hound dog, and Steve like a fox.

But the moment didn’t last forever as teenagers attention spans are short. Chatter about movies and sport games turned up like a dial on the radio. Begrudgingly, Tommy, Carol, and Billy chit chatted about the latest basket ball game instead of noticing Steve.

The party went on like a normal party would. No demons in the forest or bats with nails to wield. One six pack in and Steve had actually begun to feel happier. He actually lifted himself from the island counter and was holding a conversation with a pretty girl from his language arts class. Her name was something that started with an A, and she had short brown hair that bounced everywhere. Steve spent a good portion of his attention span trying to not think of how it looked like Nancy’s hair. He has always had a preferences for blondes with curls, he argued with himself, Nancy ruined brown hair forever thanks a lot.

Amy- Annie- Amanda? She asked Steve if he wanted to join them in a game and he was just drunk enough to say yes. He followed her to a quaint circle of equally drunk teens that were holding an empty bottle of tequila. Steve might be drunk, but he knew spin the bottle when he saw it. Maybe this would be a good distraction, he considered. Maybe this would distract him from the shame of how he was to scared to go anywhere without remembering to put a bloodied bat full of nails in his trunk. Steve agreed it was worth a try as he let himself be guided and pushed down to a place in the circle.

They were in game and happy to see more people join, especially the girls were happy to see Steve join. It was a while before Steve’s turn and he just smirked like he had everything under control. Two turns went by, two boys who were friends got the same girl in a row and she blushed but leaned forward for a short kiss both times. The boys high fived, then passed the turn to a girl on their left- but the bottle was snatched up.

Billy Hargrove loomed over the circle like a lion on a rock, smiling. “Would you guys mind if I joined?” He purred, then made room for himself to sit down without waiting for a reply. “Used to play this game back in California, I can show you how to really get your rocks off, Hawkins!” He placed the bottle expertly down in the middle and flicked his wrist to let it spin.

The smile had mostly faded from Steve’s face when Billy sat down all except what he could force to stay, but when the tequila bottle slowed and stopped to point its rim right between his big brown eyes, Steve’s smile completely slipped. A melodious ringing of giggles from the girls drowned out the gasping from the boys. It was fun to have a same sex kiss, they wanted it from the girls, but when it came to the boy’s it was a test of true strength. A double dog dare to see how far someone could be pushed. Steve had done it before of course he knew he was strong enough but it’s different now.

Now he was back at the Byers drive way watching Billy blow smoke and puff out his chest through tears. Steve might need help with his algebra but he's not dumb enough to miss someone on the brink of a breakdown when he’s seeing it, he’s looked in a mirror enough. It wasn’t the horrible dreams and nightmares, even before that it was his father being so disappointed he wouldn’t spare Steve a single word. It was his mother looking on sadly then plastering a candy smile on her face when she noticed that Steve was looking at her. “We can pay for you to have a tutor!” She chirped. Because that’s what Steve needed. He needed his parents to spend more money like he needed another black eye.

And Steve could see it in Billy’s eyes that night that someone let him down. Someone who Billy cared about didn’t know what he needed. Someone didn’t care about Billy back. Steve knows that flavor of longing so well it made him dissociate when he fought with Billy that night. Really he would loved to have shared with him that he knows, he can see, and he doesn’t deserve that. No one does, not even the big school bully Billy Hargrove. But in Hawkins boys can’t talk about that. Steve wouldn’t want his dad to say that specific word to him in that specific tone of voice that made Steve’s heart shrivel up and blacken.

Now he was back in the living room at the party with Billy leaning into the circle, his tongue dancing as he laughed along with the girls. “Harrington,” he leered and it was soft like a silk kimono robe, “I gotta say, I thought I’d be bashing your face in again tonight, not some girly shit like this?” He turned it up at the end like a question.

“For real, Hargrove,” Steve willed the words out and thankfully they didn’t break. “I didn’t think you’d do anything to me tonight, except give me a headache with all your prissy shit talking.” That earned a chorus of laughter.

Billy rose to his knees. He lifted one leg to a kneeling stance and leaned over to even his eyes with Steve. “Are you going to play the game? Or pussy out?” Billy dragged out the words with more lip licking. Steve felt his stomach tighten up at the thought of how he had tempted him so long with that from a distance and now he’s got those wet lips face to face.

Steve lifted himself to his knees and mirrored Billy’s knelt over stance. They have to lean awkwardly into the middle of the circle and kiss for everyone to see. That’s the rules of the game. Billy was already there with his top half in the middle, waiting for his chance to pounce. Steve kept his back straight and taller than Billy, letting himself look down at the other boy. If he ever wanted to know what it was like to put his hand into an open flame, this would be the closest thing. Billy was on fire and Steve could read it all over his face, and his warmth was making heat rise in Steve. The heat started at his hips, just where his sweater brushed over the hem of his jeans, and he just hoped it wasn’t showing as a blush on his cheeks. Boys are not supposed to blush when they kiss other boys. Steve could hear his fathers voice again and he finally leaned down to touch the flame.

Billy took the reigns, always hot and heavy, he reached forward to grasp the back of Steve’s arm and lead him the rest of the way forward so their lips ghosted over each other. Steve’s eyebrows where furrowed together but he rolled his eyes at the eagerness. Billy pulled him in and kissed Steve with everything he had. Both their eyes fluttered closed but Steve almost snapped his back open when he felt the teeth scraping against his bottom lip.

Instantly, it clicked for Steve that Billy wanted more than a peck. It happened in that instant that Billy licked open Steve’s lips and let himself inside, wetting and tasting all the crevices he could reach with that skilled tongue. Steve had to will back a thirsty moan. It had been a long time sense he kissed someone who really wanted to be kissed. But the context was different, Billy was a showman and he wanted a fight with fists or with tongues. The demons in the woods gurgled up a scream and the sharpness of the nails glittered in the moonlight, and Steve decided that he was done fighting with Billy Hargrove.

So his lips turned up in the corners showing a small smile, and his hand delicately lifted to cup Billy’s cheek, and Steve let him pour as much as he could into this kiss. Billy lashed out his tongue and thrashed with his teeth but Steve only replied with softly moving his jaw in time and allowing the boy to taste every inch of his month he claimed. He wasn’t going to fight back, especially against the voice in his head thinking of how much he loved the feeling of fire. Even Billy’s chin that looked so strong was soft under his fingers, even the muscles seemed to give with a gentle touch.

Steve didn't have much time to feel more before Billy was backing away. The lion leaned back on his heels and watched Steve from down the bridge of his nose. It was evidenced on his face that Steve did not give him the reaction he was looking for. Only a second ticked by, just as Steve let out a breath he was holding, before the audience erupted into cheering. Billy did it: he gave the gaggle the show they were looking for. Steve smirked at them and knew that he was a contender in his own sense, less like a lion and more like a ninja. Billy made a large production of wiping the back of his hand over his lips and bumping elbows with his friend sitting beside him.

Steve sat back cross legged on the floor and felt like he could see two large red velvet curtains drawing to a close. There were many things he wanted to say, and there was almost an awkwardness in the silence of the two. But nothing was spoken. The bottle was simply picked up and passed to the next player.

Amy- Ashley- Amber? was still stilling next to Steve and courageously ran her fingers over his hand and up his arm, pushing the sleeve of his sweater up as she went. Steve became aware how tight his muscles were drawn, he couldn’t even feel the way his veins were standing out. Breathing was hard when all he wanted to do was reach over and pull Billy back for another kiss.

“Let’s go someplace else?” She asked, “You want another beer from the kitchen?” Steve let himself be manhandled again and smiled so very cool as he agreed to another beer. They rose and walked away arms locked, Billy only glanced once as they walked away.

Steve drank another and made out with his classmate, her name did start with an A he remembered, only for a short time before he could feel exhaustion take its toll. She was upset so he let her write down her number before he left. Just her number and not her name so that’s very helpful.

When Steve finally made it outside into the cold air he let it get taken by a gust of wind. And almost like the paper he stumbled over to his burgundy car and fumbled around with his keys. Driving drunk was low on the list of dangerous super stupid decisions he had made that year. He was still trying with the keys when a heavy hand clapped over the roof of his car. With hazy eyes, Steve looked up to see Billy watching with amusement.

“How many have you drank tonight, King Steve?” He kept his voice low.

Steve sighed and returned to his keys. “7? Maybe 10? Don’t think it matters to you much, Hargrove. Thought you wanted me dead?”

Billy smiled as softly as his voice. “Dead,” he repeated, “nope. How am I supposed to kick your ass again on the court if you wrap this preppy shit around a tree?”

Steve sighed and threw his hands up. “Don’t insult the ride!” He slurred. “What are you even doing here, haven’t you had enough? Are you going to lecture me on safe driving or some shit? Give me a ride home? Turn me into Hopper and let me sit in the drunk tank?”

Steve was rambling so he stopped to take a breath, “Whatever you do I just don’t care anymore. It’s all bullshit!” He knew he was looking messy, but he couldn’t help it. Keeping up appearances was mentally exhausting and he couldn’t stand it a second longer.

Billy looked up at Steve, the smile gone from his kiss swollen lips and the fire almost gone from his brilliant blue eyes. Steve felt like he was looking into the ocean, dangerous and beautiful all at the same time, and it made him blush.

“Am I gonna lecture you? No. Turn you into Hopper? Tempting... but nah.” Billy sighed softly as he lifted himself from the side of the car. “But I am offering you a ride home, Harrington.”

Steve had a lot of weird things happen to him lately, but this is neck and neck with the weirdest. He took a long moment to just blink, his brown eyes sagged and glossy with beer. And he knew he was allowing his mouth hang open as he considered, and that was also something he wasn’t fully aware of, but he did notice how Billy’s eyes trailed down to them. Another second of consideration and Steve made his own show of shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, okay, alright,” he let the words roll off his tongue almost all at the same time. “But can we stop and get like a burger or some shit?”

Billy smiled all the way up to his eyes. “Yeah, a burger or some shit sounds good.”

[gaypasta]

I was the one who sent #9, and I meant from the angst category! Sorry I’m ditzy

sorry this took so long!  | REDDIE + “Please don’t lie to me again”

 | (angst warning) | read on ao3 | 

“Are you ok, short-stop?” Richie offered to take a grocery back out of Eddie’s hands. Richie had three in each - Eddie had two in each and a box of laundry detergent under his arm. No need for a second trip - especially not up six flights of stairs to their shitty apartment they pushed pennies together to afford for College.

“I’ve got it,” Eddie said as he dropped the detergent down a flight of stairs, “Shit.”

Richie took the two bags from Eddie’s left hand, “Don’t lie to me, now the stairwell smells of fucking lemongrass. ”

“You picked the scent, dumbass.” Eddie went back down the stairs to lift the box. Only a little had spilled out. Richie waited for him to catch up.

“It was the cheapest - maybe if you didn’t insist on buying your french cheeses then we could buy detergent that didn’t make me smell like an old lady.”

“Shut up, I don’t see you complaining when you’re drunk on Bud Light and stand at the refrigerator at three-am eating half a block of it.”

“Better than eating your shitty leftover cooking.”

“Hey!”

--

“How does this look?” Richie spun around, sticking his ass out and pulling faces like a posing teenager. This was the third outfit Richie had tried on and Eddie’s headache was already pulling at his face. 

“Richie - it looks fine. They all look fine. You’re trying on different shades of blue shirts with the same pair of pants and the same jacket - you’re being dramatic.” 

Richie turned around and looked in the mirror and examined himself. Eddie rubbed his face in his hands. The store was closing soon and he could feel the store workers glaring at them to buy their shit and move on.

“Maybe I need new glasses…” 

“Oh my God.” 

Richie threw a shirt at him - a slightly different hue of blue, “Hey! I need to look good, alright - this is my first gig.” 

Eddie folded the shirt and said without thinking, “You always look good, Richie. Stop trying so hard.” 

Richie skipped a beat and settled on the outfit, “Stop lying - you said I looked like a dumpster rat yesterday.”

“You had the same shirt on three days in a row. It was mildewing under the armpits.” 

“And yet you still sucked my dick yesterday.” 

Eddie made a disgusted face and left, “I’m driving home without you.” 

Richie laughed and bought the clothes. He didn’t laugh so much when he walked to the parking lot to look for Eddie’s second-hand beat up Toyota. 

--

Richie shook the orange bottle of pills from his languid stance at their bedroom door frame. A proper house, now. The days of their college apartment some five years in the past. The rattling caught Eddie’ ears and he looked up from the clothes he was folding - a pair of Richie’s ‘showbiz pants’ as he calls them. Eddie stilled.

“Eddie, what are these?” More rattling. Medicinal bullets, Eddie thinks.

“They’re nothing. Vitamins.” Eddie went back to folding. Now one of Richie’s plaid shirts. 

“Doesn’t say they’re Vitamins on the label…” Richie hummed, sounding relaxed, “Says they’re something called phenaglo… fee-nah-gluh-.... Fill-na-glow- whatever it says.”

“Why are you looking through the medicine cabinet?” Eddie asks, knowing full well he had hidden them behind a box of disinfectant wipes - something Richie wouldn’t touch. 

Richie dodged the question, “Says Experimental Treatment.”

“It’s nothing - I don’t know why you’re being like this.” Eddie finished folding Richie’s shirt and started on another - one of his ‘showbiz shirts’ - a nice shade of orange with a pattern of pineapples small enough not to be obnoxious. Eddie bought it for him a couple of months ago.

“If it’s nothing, why you bein’ so defensive?” An even tone, as though this was a conversation about something as mundane as asking Eddie what take-out he wants for dinner.

“I’m not being defensive.”

“Eddie. We were at your Mother’s funeral last month, you had a fucking breakdown and suddenly you’re taking what- some experimental medicine?” 

The shirt creased in Eddie’s fist, “I didn’t have a breakdown - I was burying my fucking Mother.”

“Poor wording. You know you’re not sick, right Eds? There’s nothing wrong with you. Your Mom-” 

“Whatever you’re gonna say next I’d suggest you’d think carefully about it,” Eddie seethed. 

Richie did. 

“Just tell me what they’re for. Please? Just don’t lie to me about shit like this - about anything.” 

Eddie considered the softness in Richie’s voice and smoothed out the wrinkles of his shirt, “I’m allowed secrets, Richie.”

“Not about your health. Sickness and in Health, remember?” Richie chanced a smile and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“We’re not married, dickwad.” 

“Eddie… I have something to ask you-”  Eddie threw his stupid ‘showbiz shirt’ at him.

-- 

“I can’t believe they finally tied the knot,” Richie said, raising a glass to Mr. and Mrs.Hanscom from across the reception, “They’ve been dating forever.” 

“Ten years isn’t that long,” Eddie takes a drink of his gin and tonic.

Richie gives him a strange look that makes his stomach knot.

“How long have we been dating?” 

Eddie stared at him, not believing the sincerity of the question, “You don’t know?”

“Forgot.”

“No you didn’t - I know you didn’t.”

“After my sixteenth birthday?” Richie guessed.

“The day after your fifteenth.” Eddie corrected.

“Fifteen years.” 

“Fourteen and a half. I’m going to go mingle.” Eddie left and Richie fingered the empty space on his ring finger.

Eddie hadn’t realised that he hadn’t seen Richie for the remainder of the night until Richie clapped a strong arm on his shoulder, “Hey, our Taxi’s here - we gotta go.” 

Eddie - slightly less than sober with slightly more than a few empty glasses at his table smiled at him, “Oh! I haven’t seen you aaaaaall night… wow. Sorry - I was talking to Simon,” A man opposite Eddie, short-cropped blonde hair with ruddy, childish cheeks and a disingenuine smile, “He works with Ben - he draws buildings - isn’t that cool, Richie?”  Eddie had yet to look Richie in the eyes.

“Yeah, buddy - super cool. Let’s get you home.” Richie pulled at Eddie and Eddie pushed at him, “Hey - c’mon Eds.”

“We were in the middle of a conversation.” 

“Well… Simon here won’t mind if I take your stroppy little ass home, will he?” Richie looked pointedly, warningly at the man. Richie wasn’t jealous by nature - but this guy looked seedy all over.

“No, not at all.” He smiled at Eddie and Eddie smiled back. A type of smile Richie hadn’t seen in so long he’d forgotten that it had existed at all, “Do call me? I’d like to hear more about your views on the Donaghmore Disaster.”

“The what-now?” 

Eddie looked at Richie a little irritated, “It’s a History thing - that show I record on the Discovery Channel that you always delete to make room for your dumb fuckin’ Seth Rogen movies.” 

“Oh. Okay - it’s time to go.” 

On the drive home, after an immeasurable silence, Richie looked over at Eddie - who was staring out the window with his head in his hand.

“You like Seth Rogen movies.” 

Eddie didn’t so much as move a muscle, “No I don’t. I think they’re shit.” 

“We watch them together.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You said you liked them.” 

“I lied.” 

“Why?” 

Eddie didn’t respond. He shrugged and continued looking out the window.

--

A month since the wedding. A month and a day since they had last had sex. 

Of course, they weren’t kids anymore - long past their early twenties and nightly sex - sometimes even once a week was exhausting enough - but a month? Never this long. 

“Hey, Eds?” 

Eddie looked at him - already exasperated, trying to look through reports he was doing for work, “What, Richie?” 

Richie hid behind his coffee, “It’s been a month since we last had sex.”

“Okay?” 

“Why is that?” He took a sip. It was cold.

“We’ve been busy.”

“We have?”

“Yes.” Eddie said sternly, eyebrows pursing together in annoyance. They did that more and more recently. 

A pregnant pause.

Richie’s coffee was still cold. He drank it anyway.

“Don’t lie to me... are you sleeping with someone else?” He asked, jokingly of course, “Is it because I’ve gotten fat?” 

Richie waited for a ‘yeah, they’re better than you’ or a ‘you’ve always been fat, Richie’ but it never came. What came instead was Eddie slamming his fist down on the kitchen table. 

“How could you say that?! How the fuck could you say that to me? Just because I’m too busy at work to act as your fucking cum-dumpster doesn’t mean I’m cheating on you.” 

“Eds - I was kidding-”

“I’m going out,” Eddie stood up, he didn’t even so much as push his chair back in before he was grabbing his keys, Richie suspected that if he hadn’t been wearing shoes - he wouldn’t have stopped to put any on. 

“What - where are you going? It’s almost midnight, I’m sorry, alright-”

“Out.” 

Eddie was gone. Coat hanging on the back of the kitchen chair. Wallet sitting beside the fruit bowl. He shouted a biting “Don’t wait up.”

He came home at 7am only to change and go to work. He didn’t shower when he came in and his hair was damp. 

He didn’t give Richie a kiss goodbye.

--

They were watching TV. Some high-rated Netflix show that Eddie wanted to watch. It didn’t appeal much to Richie but he sat in his PJ’s with a bowl of Lucky Charms and watched it nonetheless. 

Eddie’s phone rang from the chasm between the two. A brief flash of ‘Simon' before Eddie silenced the call and flipped it upside down. 

An innocent question, the man from Ben and Beverly’s wedding long forgotten, “Who’s Simon?” 

“No one. Work colleague,” Eddie folded his arms.

“At this time of night? It must be important - you should answer it,” A spoonful of cereal.

“It’s nothing.” 

“Ah, new kid? Are you training another new kid?” Richie’s mind going back to this time last year - all the fresh-faced College kids not knowing their ass from their elbow and blowing up Eddie’s phone like he was their Mommy.

Eddie made a vague noise of agreement.

“Don’t lie - he’s younger and hotter than me, isn’t he?” Another mouth full of cereal - he didn’t swallow it before continuing, “How am I meant to compete with the youth?” 

Eddie looked at him and crinkled his noise at Richie speaking with his mouth full. He took his phone from the sofa and left the living room without a word. 

Richie finished his cereal and the show turned out to be quite good, actually. 

He could hear Eddie laughing on the phone from the room next over. 

--

“That’s the fourth Friday in a row you’ve stayed late,” Richie said as Eddie came through the door, hair ruffled and unkempt as it usually did after a stressful day at work. Richie moved his book so he could see his watch. The clock read ten, “This is the latest you’ve been.” 

The smile and cheerful disposition plummeted off Eddie’s face, “What are you, my keeper?” 

“No - I’m your husband.”

“You know I hate it when you say that shit.” 

Richie paused, “What shit? That I’m your husband? I’ve always said that. We’ve been dating sixteen years - people always say we’re ‘practically a married couple’.”

Eddie mumbled something. Richie told him to speak up.

“Fifteen and half. Not sixteen.”

“Oh. Alright.” 

Eddie shrugged off his jacked and Richie noticed his hair was damp.

“Why do you hate it when I say it?” Richie closed the book he had been reading.

“I don’t know - I just do,” Eddie wasn’t invested much in the conversation.

“Do you hate the thought of it that much?” Richie asked. He had said it many times before, in jest. There was little laughter in his voice now.

Eddie didn’t answer. He pretended he didn’t hear and walked to their bedroom. Richie knew he heard. He knew all too well that he had heard him. 

When Richie followed him into the bedroom, Eddie slipped on a sleep shirt and Richie stilled. A plain black v-neck - too big to be Eddie’s and too small to be Richie’s - not that either of them wore v-necks anyway. 

“It’s been four months since we’ve had sex, you know that?” 

“I didn’t realise you were keeping track.” 

“Whose shirt is that?” 

“I don’t know - found it in the airing cupboard last week.” 

It all came so easy, didn’t it? Effortlessly lying. It didn’t make Richie angry, or particularly sad, either. It just made him hurt. It made him sore all over.

“I know you’ve been cheating on me, you know that, right?” 

A heavy, painful pause. 

Eddie got under the covers.

“I hate it when you say shit like that, Richie.” 

“Eddie.” Richie pressed.

“Go to sleep.” 

“Eddie.” 

Richie’s eyes - without his consent - had filled with water. This is it. Richie knew. This is sixteen - no - fifteen and a half years being detonated with Richie pressing the button. Richie waited, waited for Eddie to tell him, confess, end it, pack his shit and go. But it never came. It never would come, probably. Richie was like a piece of furniture to Eddie - stangent in his life but not quite old and broken to throw away just yet. Eddie was his sight and sound and now Richie was willingly going blind and deaf.

“Please don’t lie to me again,” His voice was thick and hard to hear. Eddie heard it. Eddie didn’t respond, “Eddie, just say it. Just say you’re gonna go. Please.” 

“I’m not leaving you, Richie. How could I do that?” 

Richie choked on a sob. 

“Simon? That’s who it is? That guy from the fucking wedding?” It felt so long ago.

Eddie looked sad, but not guilty, “Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“We were each other’s first boyfriend. We were fifteen. You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about what you missed.”

Richie wished Eddie would look at him, he missed Eddie’s eyes, “No.”

“You’re lying.”

Richie let out a cry at that, this is the third time Richie has cried infront of Eddie. Once when they were twenty-three and Richie got fired from a comedy gig that he had bet his career on. Twice when he was twenty-seven when his Father had passed away from liver cancer, and now when Eddie accused him of lying.

“I’ve never lied to you, Eds.”Eddie thought this over, thinking it was a ridiculous notion. It was true, the longer he thought. Richie had never lied to him. Not once.

Eddie texted Bill to come over ASAP.Eddie gave Richie a kiss for the first time in two weeks and three days.

Eddie lied for the last time and said, “I love you, I’m sorry.” 

Richie didn’t lie when he said, “I love you, I’m sorry, too.”

[parabcllums]

 ⧼   tati gabrielle, cis female, she & her   /   overprotected by britney spears   +   an endless stretch of white sand beaches and the overwhelming smell of the ocean.  glossy lips and trademark pout, faux fur jackets over white denim jeans and a set of freshly done baby pink stiletto heels, making your daily life more difficult than it needs to be. an expensive bunch of flowers delivered early every morning and left inside a crystal vase.    ⧽   ━━   let me tell you a thing or two about CHARLOTTE “LOTTIE” OLIVIA BLAIRE. the TWENTY THREE year old daughter of ALISON BLAIRE & WARREN WORTHINGTON III is an UNDERGRAD student at paragon academy and CELEBRITY YOGA INSTRUCTOR in town, and has sometimes been referred to as THE BRAINLESS BEAUTY. they’ve always seemed very WHIMSICAL & VIVACIOUS, though i’ve heard that they can be pretty SCATTERBRAINED & CONCEITED too. it’s common knowledge that they have the powers of ( UNDEVELOPED ) LIGHT MANIPULATION [ CAPABILITIES: EMOTION BASED LUMINESCENCE ( SHE GLOWS ) & PHOTOKINETIC FLIGHT ] ; guess we shouldn’t get on their bad side, huh? redirect to her stats page HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

 she’s like a DREAM GIRL ;             and i think a dream girl should live in a dream world.

SECTION ONE OF THREE : BULLET POINT HISTORY.

charlotte olivia blaire, soon to be known more widely as LOTTIE, was born on october 5th, 1996, in new york city. she’s the eldest of four children born to alison blaire & warren worthington iii, her younger siblings being madeleine eliza, gabrielle louisa and sebastian warren. 

for several years, lottie didn’t have to be exceptional to be her parents favorite. they didn’t have any other KIDS for a while, so she really only ever had to be herself ; and that was enough. she got used to being spoiled rotten ( both her parents were rich in their own right, so it wasn’t as if she ever had to worry for anything ), but there wasn’t REALLY an alternative to that. when you only have one kid to focus all your attention on and go all out for during birthdays and the holidays... they end up a little spoiled. 

alison and warren largely kept lottie out of the public eye, for the first six years of her life. they’d go so far as to throw a towel over her head when they were carrying her across the tarmac to a private jet, even ; and it was all in the name of good. they didn’t want her to be torn apart by GOSSIP magazines before she was old enough to really comprehend them, and aside from a few pictures ( one toddler breakdown was caught in full by a member of the paparazzi, and the family got a nice settlement when legal action was taken against the magazine that published the photos ), she was pretty well sheltered. i’d go so far as to call that lottie as a whole ; SHELTERED.

all bets were not completely off with the births of madeleine and gabrielle, per say ; but alison and warren DID mellow out some, taking the kids for days out to disneyland, etc, and only keeping them all covered up as long as they were push chair bound. lottie very quickly became something of a little darling. she had always been the sort of kid who got distracted doing something as mundane as talking to her mom by catching her own reflection over alison’s shoulder and having to really look at herself ; she LOVED having cameras pointed in her direction, and she played up to them quite well. the media circus went wild the very first time she looked directly at them and did a little twirl, her smile huge and gap toothed, her ending a cutesy wave. if she knew she had an AUDIENCE, she did the most to make it worth their while.

lottie was definitely the one most obsessed with the idea of following in her mothers footsteps. unfortunately, it was very obvious from a time she was very young that she couldn’t hold a tune to save her LIFE, but nothing was more sure to her as she grew than the fact that if she had gotten nothing else, she had gotten ALL the looks. it didn’t take very much twisting of their arms to allow her pursue a child model career, something that was obviously going to bring her joy ( in turn, something they wouldn’t deny her ). lottie was a natural. she had her own tween clothing brand. she had offers from across the globe to shoot pictures for different products. once in a while, you might get the jingle from one such advertisement that she was the face of stuck in your head, even today.

she was fifteen when all bets really WERE off, for good, and wingin’ it with the worthingtons became reality tv’s new trump card. her parents really did not need the money, but... after much discussion, they couldn’t argue the fact that it would give mutants as a whole the kind of media exposure that they’d never really HAD before. through wiwtw, they were able to show themselves as a family. sure, it was dramatic at times ; but they were able to be a really positive influence on the public’s opinion of mutants, and they really did feel as if they were having a direct hand in forming a new, humanized VIEW of their kind in the minds of people who had never really had such a thing, before.

lottie LOVED it, and that should really come as zero surprise. she loved the attention, mostly, and was an active part of social media from then onwards - live tweeting their episodes, doing instagram advertisements for the newest fads, interacting with people on her level. she was not the smartest of people, and that shone through on the families show regardless of whatever script guide they had ( sure they’d deny it, but... that didn’t stop it from existing ), but... lottie wasn’t offended when people turned something she had said or something she had done into a viral meme. she wasn’t hurt when a row of comments beneath something she had tweeted were largely rude. she really was the sort of person who thought ‘all attention is good attention’.

wingin’ it with the worthingtons ( a very ironic title for a show comprised mostly of blaire’s ) took up a lot of time, but nothing REALLY changed in terms of how their lives were lead. the families time had always been largely split between wherever either parent had to be for BUSINESS, and their home in gardendale. really, it just meant they got to spend even more time together, and even more time closer to the school for gifted youngsters that was somewhat a home to all of them. lottie loved traveling when she was a child, far more than she enjoyed being in one place ; but she was not a history buff, per say, or even largely interested in the TOURIST side of new cities. it wasn’t a huge loss to her, not to be in a new city each month.

really ; lottie’s life has been quite ordinary, in the sense of... it’s entirely ordinary in HER eyes, and probably the least bit so for everybody else. she’s never faced all too much, and counts winning celebrity love island season 9 as her greatest achievement. 

SECTION TWO OF THREE : HEADCANONS

lottie isn’t really very intelligent, at least in terms of... book smarts and street knowledge. she’s been very sheltered in her life, and she’s never really had to try very hard - her looks have gotten her far, and she scraps by in school enough that it’s never been too much of an issue. she’s quite self aware, but she isn’t very bothered by the fact. in lottie’s eyes, making fun of her for such a thing ( which is something she’s no stranger to ) is more a cheap shot than anything else, and she’s never been the kind to think too deeply on it.

she attended xavier’s school for gifted youngsters... fairly sporadically, really. it was where her parents thought she BELONGED, and she never argued the fact with them - it was certainly easier than many of the alternatives - but... she also never went there with any real desire to be a future member of the x-men, and she’s always felt that’s pretty much the only reason to ATTEND xavier’s. she switched to private education for a few years while she was focusing on her own career, but she’s attending paragon academy now as a kind of ‘break’ following last years love island win, mostly to regroup and decide what she wants to pursue next. 

she has a very interesting mutation, with a lot of potential - but she’s never really cared to... develop it, much. lottie has light manipulation, and all that REALLY gives her is the ability to fly ( through the manipulation of light ) and, tragically - emotion based luminescence. in layman's terms, lottie involuntarily glows based on the strong emotions that she’s feeling at any one time. if she’s good and angry, she glows literal red. passionate, purple. happy? green. maybe she’d have more desire to learn how to use her gift if she didn’t feel like a mood ring 70% of the time. 

madeleine "ellie” eliza blaire is fifteen years old and the smartest of all the worthinton-blaire children, by a LONGSHOT. when she’s older, she’s gonna do something incredible, like... cure cancer, or reinstate pluto as a planet. she and lottie have a complicated dynamic, in that... they love each other, greatly, but are huge sources of frustration to the other. ellie finds lottie to be quite dense ( no arguments ), and though on the flip side, lottie is always REALLY impressed by her sisters intelligence... she also finds her to be kind of a know it all. it’s a classic case of neither of them really understanding one another. lottie loves to play up to the cameras, and ellie mostly lurks in the background ( one time taking a stand and wearing a hoodie she had made herself saying she didn’t consent to the use of her image on tv ). while they’d absolutely go to the ends of the earth for one another, they have no interest in BEING like the other, and they aren’t the sort of sisters who share everything and get along 100% of the time. ellie is the only child to have the actual worthington wings - they’re as tall as she is and feathered, though rather than being white, they have a distinct baby blue tint. 

gabrielle “abbie” louisa blaire is twelve, and has more ambition than anyone lottie’s ever met - and the intelligence to get herself where she wants to be. while she’s far more like charlotte than anyone else is ( they’re both far too invested in their looks, for one, and have a GENUINE interest in what the gossip magazines are saying most days ), she’s also sharp as a tack and incredibly driven. she and lottie get along the best, and there’s little that lottie loves more than helping her little sister do her makeup or choose an outfit ; she doesn’t feel threatened by her in the least, but she does kind of understand why their parents were so reluctant to allow her get started at the offset. she’s definitely not the type to try and dissuade abbie from doing anything she wants to, but she does think it would have been nice for her to be young for a little bit longer. as the only child to INHERIT their mothers voice, her goal is to find stardom before she turns fourteen ; she’ll probably get there, given that she’s currently competing on ‘the voice kids’. 

sebastian “bash” warren blaire is seven, and alison and warren’s only son. given that there’s the LARGEST gap between him and lottie, they wouldn’t be classed as the closest of siblings - but lottie loved when he was a baby, and taking care of him was where she found her love of babysitting, in general. it’s not a very noble job, but what about it, right? bash is definitely the child where all the rules and regulations that the other three had lived through went out the window. his birth announcement ( including a picture of his sleeping self ) was the most liked picture on instagram the year that he was born ( though it lost its crown not too far into the new year ), and he’s had his own youtube channel since he was five - reviewing toys, mostly, but it’ll eventually evolve into video games at the rate he’s going. he boasts the LARGEST collection of funko pop toys out of anyone he knows, and has two whole rooms dedicated to his things. he’s probably the most spoiled out of all four of the siblings, but they all sort of willfully allow it. his mutation hasn’t shown itself, yet, but he’ll probably work out a way to make himself tik tok relevant using it when it does.

SECTION THREE OF THREE : WANTED CONNECTIONS 

i don’t have many wrote up yet so please... stick w me.

she definitely has friends from xavier’s, given that she attended the school - but i imagine they vary in terms of... closeness and also, vibe. there’s probably people who find her endearing, but there’s also definitely people who aren’t really her friend and can’t be classed it. any and all xavier’s connects u can think of, including close friends, mutuals, enemies and exes, are open ! 

give me two people who r like... her gretchen weiners and regina george. they’re definitely not real friends, but they’re as rich as one another and as used to a life of comfort as one another, so they FEEL like shared life experience dictates what they shld be. it’s very surface level and they probably talk shit abt each other ( or at the very least abt lottie, but i don’t take that personal ) all the time.

one person who’s genuinely... nothing like her. think AIMEE & MAEVE from sex education, as the insp. lottie is quite shallow and naive, but they’re much more gritty and knowledgeable. their friendship is genuine and they care about her a lot and vice versa, but maybe they don’t spend much time together in public for whatever reason.

exes! flings! etc. lottie has quite a few, i imagine

LOTTIE BLAIRE, our TATI GABRIELLE fc, is looking for her EX FIANCÉ connection who looks like LUCIEN LAVISCOUNT, GEORGE MACKAY, SANTIAGO SEGURA, ANY MALE / MALE ALIGNED FC who is 22+. you DO have to contact prior to applying at PARABCLLUMS or DISCORD. ( just over a year ago, lottie won celebrity love island season nine [ winter edition ] with her partner, after a highly dramatic season full of both... wicked betrayals and widely memed moments. they both coupled up and uncoupled a few times with other islanders, before they became a fan favorite pair about... midway through the show. definitely had a 'sex outside of the hideaway' scandal. definitely talked at length about how the other was the 'ONE', for them. when they were announced the winners, one of them proposed live on air and they seemed set to be the next it couple born from the reality tv show. they did some joint interviews, they were pictured together all of the time, their social medias were absolutely FULL of one another... and then, just after it was announced in a gossip mag that lottie was set to do celebrity say yes to the dress [ and yes, probably don't tell the bride ], they announced their split and broke hearts all over the world. don't confuse this with the level of emotionally charged connect we are all used to. i think it could be really fun ! very diff ! lots of headcanon possibility and lots of drama openings ! but definitely... so funny. ideas for parents wld be... emma frost & namor, patricia walker, bruce wayne, ryoko sabuki, janet van dyne & hank pym, tony stark & pepper potts, t'challa, shuri... anyone p influential / rich tbh! )

[shadowsong26fic]

Coming Attractions!

First Monday of the month, woohoo!

(And also kind of a NaNo roundup post because that was last month, after all…)

NaNo:

Sooooo I didn’t finish, lol. Not that I was…super expecting to, exactly, but I was hopeful! I think I just missed too many days in a row and lost all my momentum.

In terms of my goals, I was hoping to write:

1. 20-25k on Precipice 2. 20-25k on our faces like a mirror 3. 10-20k on Other Projects. 4. 50-70k total

In terms of what I actually accomplished:

1. 9,241 on Precipice (Sooooooo....about half of what I’d hoped, a little less. But I still got a fair amount done/prepped for upcoming chapters, plus a couple chapters actually posted, even while doing other stuff, so...go me!) 2. 9,043 on our faces like a mirror (Again, a bit less than half of what I’d hoped for, but I got enough done for the story/etc. to take a real Shape in my head. ...ish. See the specific OFLAM stuff later on in the post...) 3. 10,601 on Other Projects (Hey, I actually met this goal! ...barely, but still! Mostly thanks to the Nikita/Rebels crossover, lol...) 4. 28,885 total

Original Fiction:

I got a decent chunk of a big backstory piece for Lux done (in the form of a “then” and “now” set of scenes/vignettes for the five Archangels)--that being said, I’m not sure I actually like what I have there, lol. I know more or less what I need to cover, but the details are fiddly. Also not sure whether I should refer to Lux by her current name, for consistency’s sake, or use a different name (either Lightbringer or just Lucifer) since she does technically reshape her name after being released when the main Apocalypse storyline kicks off…also debating whether Lux should be/present as female way back when--angels don’t really do gender the way humans do in this ‘verse, but the closest human term for Lux would be genderfluid, sooooo IDK. Also also, for the ‘Now’ part…ehhh, I’m not sure I should have this be the first thing I post involving Trixie…but I’ll keep poking at it and see what comes out.

(I’d also planned to work on the big Kesshare character study saturation for The Farglass Cycle this month, and maybe go back to my untitled first-contact story, but neither of those happened, lol.)

Precipice:

We’re in the home stretch! Kinda. So to speak. Probably three to four more chapters in Arc Seven, which I’m hoping-fingers-crossed I’ll finish by the end of the calendar year??? (But given how much other stuff I hope to work on (see Other Fanfic Projects for more details…)

At that point--and I know I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably put it in an A/N in the next chapter or so, but following the end of Milestones, I’m planning to break off into a second/sequel fic, working title Protectors. This is at least in part because length (over 200k wtf I was anticipating 50-75k, maybe 100k, for these seven arcs @.@), but also was sort of planned even without the Length issue, due to some thematic/structure shifts following a six-year timeskip. Which, if you do the math, you can probably figure out where that’ll land us and why I might be structuring it this way…

Anyway, I’ve increasingly realized that there’s some stuff I should probably set up that I’ll need for later arcs in Part 2 involving some Rebels characters, more with the Last Batch, plus a Sith Apprentice who needs to turn up and die (although the gap between Infernalis and the next apprentice I actually care about/have a name and some kind of Plot for is only about four years in my mental timeline, so maybe there isn’t an active Apprentice in that period*…hmmmmm…), some background about the Hands, etc. But I feel like it’s all a little too disjointed for an entire additional arc. So, Arc 7.5, tentatively titled Preludes, is also going to be a thing XD I don’t think I’ll have a fixed schedule for that vs. the main storyline--and, honestly, it’ll probably work more like a collection of one-shots taking place during the timeskip than a proper Arc, but a little more Relevant than stuff that goes in Bonus Content, if that makes sense? It’ll probably be posted alongside at least arcs 8 and 9. Which, incidentally, take place more or less back-to-back and cover a fairly short period of time, but there is A Lot of plot/setup that goes into them. Like. If I tried to do it all as one arc, it’d be at least twice as long as any of the other arcs I’ve done, possibly including Arc Four--certainly over twenty chapters, I think--plus there’s a good (and by good I mean Horrible) place where I can split the arcs, so…we’ll see how that goes.

(…still not sure what to do with Maul, lol. He may just be Sir Darth Not-Appearing-In-This-Fic, or he might turn up in arc 10/11/13, which are the sort of vaguest of the next seven arcs which make up Protectors, in terms of how much I have planned out…)

(*On a semi-related note, I’ve been asked about Inquisitors a couple times in comments lately, and…well, I’ll probably mention this when I reply to the commenter in question, but I figured I’d set it out here as well, in case anyone else was wondering the same thing but doesn’t read other peoples’ comments. Like I’m pretty sure I mentioned at the start, when I plotted out** the bulk of this fic, I hadn’t seen Rebels yet. I’ve since decided to integrate a few characters/plot points (Kallus and Zeb will feature prominently in a subplot in arcs 13 and 14, for example), but, as a rule, characters and plot points from Rebels haven’t been taken into account unless I Really Like Them and/or they’re a good way to fill in a plot hole in a later arc, as with Kallus and Zeb. So, for example, when I include Thrawn, I’m writing more towards Legends!Thrawn in terms of personality, though the two have blended a bit in my head and I do reference specific events in Disney!Thrawn’s personal timeline; and b) more relevantly, I hadn’t made any plans to include Inquisitors, and that…hasn’t really changed. So, I might have them in Preludes, but they almost certainly won’t show up on-page/be super-relevant in the main arcs of the fic, sorry :/ )

(**Loooool I say “Plotted Out” like I’m the kind of author with a Master Plan or at least an outline. But I did have a general idea of the Major Plot Points going in, such as when Rex and Ahsoka would turn up, Luke’s storyline with Lavinia, how many Apprentices I would need to make them work, etc., and I’ve had parts of Arcs 8, 9, and 14 written for like at least two years now, so I know more or less where I’m going--though they’ll be edited once I have more of the connective tissue in place, in case I’ve accidentally Jossed myself…or I change my mind, which is becoming A Possibility with a major event set to happen in Arc 14, so…we’ll see.)

Aaaaaanyway. Exciting times ahead, I hope!

Other Fanfic:

This month, I finally posted another AU outline, woohoo! …I mean, it was a super-niche Nikita/Rebels crossover with a handful of OCs thrown in but who’s counting XD (I do actually intend to finish Let’s Go Steal a Crossover and update the Ventress one at some point but…yeah).

I also put out a Kallus one-shot that I think turned out really well. May do more of those at some point, who knows…

I made some significant progress on our faces like a mirror, as mentioned above! But now I’m waffling a little bit over structure. Basically, the fic covers Bo-Katan’s backstory from the time Satine becomes Duchess, through the Civil War, and eventually leads to Bo’s eventual break with her sister to join Death Watch. It comes in two pretty distinct halves--what I call the Fugitive arc in my notes, which covers the Civil War, and the Breakdown arc, which is everything after her return to Sundari.

So, my original plan was--prologue covering at least part of the final Epic Screaming Match that leads to Bo’s departure; jump back to the Fugitive Arc; and then follow through until we catch up to the prologue, with a coda/epilogue with her and Pre Viszla. The problem is, there’s…really not a lot to connect the two halves??

I’ve got a couple options on what to do about this, but I’m not sure which would be best.

Option One: Keep the structure as-is and just let it be episodic.

Option Two: Keep the structure as-is and find some way to connect the two halves (i.e., a recurring antagonist; I do have an idea of who this could be, but the problem is, it takes away a good chunk of the focus from Bo and Satine’s relationship for the Breakdown Arc…which I don’t really want to do.)

Option Three: Remove the framing device and focus on the Breakdown Arc, and include the Fugitive Arc as flashbacks, since the Breakdown Arc can’t really stand on its own. (The main issue I have with this one is that, if I want to actually write out future chunks of Bo’s life later--meaning, her time with Death Watch, and getting her from TCW to Rebels--I won’t have these flashbacks and I don’t want to change the structure too radically for any eventual sequels? Also, I’m not sure how I feel about a flashback structure for this fic in general…)

Option Four: Remove the framing device and focus on the Fugitive Arc, ending the story with Bo’s return to Sundari. (Two issues with this one--I really do want to go into the Breakdown Arc; that’s where my interest in this story started. Also, due to the constraints of setting and so on, Bo interacts with…like…two canon characters over the course of the Fugitive Arc? And while I don’t really have a problem writing a story that’s essentially a Backstory Epic for a tertiary character, populated by about 90% OCs, I’m not sure anyone actually wants to read that, except as the lead-in to the Breakdown Arc??? But maybe I’m overthinking…)

…so, yeah. Any thoughts/opinions on which option would be Best? (I may make a separate post asking the same question later, but figured I’d lay it all out here, too!)

Also, I’m working on a Secret Santa project, and probably not going to use OFLAM for SWBB, which means I need to come up with and write a different plotline of some kind, so back to the drawing board on that one…

Also also, I do genuinely plan to get Distaff off hiatus At Some Point, especially since I’ve gotten some new comments/responses lately…but given how much else I have on my plate, writing-wise, that probably won’t happen until next year, alas.

Anyway, the long and short of it is--lots of writing planned for this month! Now let’s see how much I actually get done XD

What about the rest of you? What’ve y’all been up to/what do you have planned for next month?

[imitationpersonne]

Get to Know the Blogger

Can be used for RP and non-RP blogs to get to know a bit about the person behind the screen! Repost, don’t reblog!

1. FIRST NAME:  My alias is KumaraDosha, and you can call me that, Kumara, Mara, or something else you have learned I go by. :3c

2. STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF: I have an extra half a vertebra in my lumbar spine, bigger on the left side, that makes my back less stable and more susceptible to pain and injury, and part of the reason I had to change my career from being a surgical technologist was because of that wear and tear.

3. TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON: ...I really don’t know how to answer this. Attraction is so finicky for me, and “aesthetically pleasing” really just depends on the person. I guess all I can say is the most identifiable “type” of person I’d be attracted to are sort of...waifish women? Maybe Scandinavian features, IDK. Something vaguely similar to Anya Taylor-Joy’s soft looks, any hair color.

4. A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF: Ice cream/shakes.

5. A FOOD YOU HATE: Olives.

6. GUILTY PLEASURE: Assigning characters of different fandoms Homestuck godtier classes and aspects.

7. WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN: Usually an old, big shirt and pajama pants.

8. SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS: Serious relationships only, if not neither.

9. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE: I might go back and pick sonography as my major first, instead of trying nursing school, getting psychologically abused and mistreated by nursing teachers, having a breakdown and quitting, getting a surgical technology degree after being treated poorly by teachers/students/staff, quitting surgical tech work after 3 years due to depression/anxiety and physical strain, then coming back to school for a third time with past healthcare-school trauma and trying to get a bachelor’s in sonography. Then again, I learned a whole lot--educationally, about life, about the behaviors and cultures of healthcare workers, and about how people are--in those other schools/professions, so I’m not sure that’s worth giving up? I’d be very much richer right now, though, and not dependent on family or in debt. Plus, surgical technology is actually really cool (and still very much a passion of mine), and I don’t want to give those experiences and memories up. So maybe I’d just nix the nursing school, do surgical tech for a few years, and then go for sonography. Who knows, man; life and its consequences are so unpredictable.

10. ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON: Probably not. I am very sensitive to rejection if I’ve been honest or vulnerable, so I usually only gush over people I trust and honestly feel that way about.

11. A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN: I really don’t know if there’s any like that for me?? But I guess The Signal is a movie I like to show people and watch with them, because many haven’t seen it, and I find it fascinating. I also love Tron Legacy a whole lot.

13. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE: I would choose a Samoyed dog, if I were able to have it well-taken-care-of (which I can’t do at this point, which is why I don’t have one).

14. TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS: Oh boy, uh. At the moment? It’s hard for me to give any ultimate lists, because they can all be terribly mishandled or cringe depending on how they’re portrayed, which often somehow turns out to be popular in the fandom, and that spoils it for me a little bit... You know what, screw the rules; I’ma throw out a bunch--six from BNHA that I favor atm and then a diverse cast of some oldies I still like that will be more than five. Not particularly in order of rank...

From BNHA, Monoma Neito x Shinsou Hitoshi; Monoma Neito x Midoriya Izuku; Monoma Neito x Kuroiro Shihai (there may or may not be huge RP bias here); Bakugou Katsuki x Uraraka Ochaco; Bakugou Katsuki x Todoroki Shouto; Shigaraki Tomura x Dabi.

From other fandoms... Kuja x Terra (Dissidia Final Fantasy), Genos x Sonic (One Punch Man), Akabane Karma x Asano Gakushu (Assassination Classroom), Beyond Birthday x L Lawliet (Death Note, but ONLY from an epic-long series of canon-divergent fanfictions that nobody’s going to have heard of), Yami Bakura x Yami Yugi (Yu-Gi-Oh!), Aoba x Noiz (Dramatical Murder), Matsuoka Rin x Nanase Haruka (Free!), Eridan Ampora x Sollux Captor (Homestuck), Caliborn x Dirk Strider (Homestuck), The Batter x Zacharie (OFF), Sniper x Spy (Team Fortress 2). ...The hate/enemies/rivals ships are kind of a theme, aren’t they.

15. PIE OR CAKE: Cake.

16. FAVORITE SCENT: At the moment, I really like the Snowflakes and Cashmere body wash at Bath and Body Works. Also Butterfly Flower. Also give me baking cookies or blueberry muffins.

17. CELEBRITY CRUSH: They all disappoint me. They’re just human beings, often not very good ones.

18. IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO: Heaven, bitch. (Okay, maybe an island resort or a cruise or something.)

19. INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT:  Introvert who can appear extremely extrovert in comfortable company. I guess ambivert fits better.

20. DO YOU SCARE EASILY: Depends. In real life, I’d say not really, but if you can find a way to trigger my imaginative paranoia, then maybe. I can’t play scary video games, because they make me way too tense, but I absolutely love watching other people play them, and I get very scared, especially by jumpscares (but in a fun way, LOL). I also love watching horror movies (though most are embarrassingly un-scary). I do not like jumpscares in movies. Cheap. I also love reading/hearing creepy stories that are presumably true (that’s usually what triggers my imaginative paranoia and puts me in a bad headspace, but whoops, still interesting to me).

21. IPHONE OR ANDROID: I’ve only ever had iPhone.

22. DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES: Yeah. I wish I played more, but I seem to procrastinate a lot on playing games for some reason, and I’m not that good besides. I prefer PC to consoles, and I have tons and tons of games on Steam (many that I haven’t gotten around to trying yet), but I also have a PS4 and Nintendo Switch. Games of note that I have played a decent bit are Zelda Breath of the Wild, Fallout 4, Skyrim, Darkest Dungeon, Smash, Saints Row 3 and 4, many of the Final Fantasy games... And a heck ton more, uh.

24. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS: Pay off debts, share with family/friends, charity, invest in rich people stocks or whatever, and also live a nice-ass life. Honestly not sure if I’d quit working entirely...? I tend to get depressed if my life doesn’t have meaning like that. I have to give something back to the world. Besides, a million dollars literally lasts like under 20 years in normal circumstances...? That’s not something you retire on as a young person, unless you’re investing well...which I would need help figuring out how to do. I hate managing money.

25. FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE: Off the top of my head, probably Jane Crocker and Aranea from Homestuck.

26. FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER: Trigun fandom! I still love that series...!

tagged by: @galaxythixf

tagging: You, but only if you like me, even if from afar. :3c

[unfallen-angel]

Curious Creatures PT 3. Venom/Eddie Brock X Fem!Reader

This is the third installment of Curious Creatures! All Feedback is appreciated! 

This is also for Little Darlin’s Marvelous Writing Challenge! Sorry It’s late, but life is cruel sometimes. @littledarlinhavefaithinme

WARNINGS: Some language, but nothing else! I didn’t proofread this so sorry for the mistakes!

"No! Listen... No... Come on. Just let me explain... I just want to know..." You drum your fingers across the wooden surface of your kitchen table. "Fine. Thank you for your... Hello?" With a heavy sigh, you drop your phone onto the table and run both your hands through your hair. "Dick."

You had called three police stations, four of the local papers, and six of the local news stations. All you wanted was to prove that you didn't need to check yourself into a nut house because you kept finding this giant, black monster wherever you went. You couldn't seem to make it past the front desk no matter where you called. No one wanted any part of your 'publicity stunt'. 

It had been 2 weeks since your night on the beach with Venom, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell your roommate about him because you were starting to think that maybe it was all in your head and you had just suffered a mental breakdown that night in the park after you left the bar. 'I'm going out. Don't wait up!' You sent the text to your roommate and on a light hoodie. "I'll just retrace my steps and start at the beginning," you mutter as the door closes loudly behind you.

The sun was just starting to set over the city as you made your way toward the dive bar that you were hustling in the night you met the giant monster. It wasn't too busy inside for a Thursday night, but there were people playing pool and a few men leaning on the bar for balance, obviously too drunk to walk three steps alone. Your eyes scan the dimly lit room and land on a jacket that seemed to tickle your memory. It was the same man that was here the night you were here. 

The reporter. You couldn't remember his name.

"This seat taken?" You ask lightly and drop into the bar stool beside him. He looked over at you with a sly smile, but it quickly faded. Several things crossed his face from recognition, to shock, to panic, to frustration. "I can sit somewhere else," you offer, confused.

"No!" he says forcefully and then chuckles quietly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "No. It's not taken."

"Okay," you laugh and order a beer. The bartender nods and tosses a dingy, white dishrag over his shoulder as he pops a top and slides the bottle your way. You catch it easily. "I'm y/n." you look up at him and really get a good look at him. Dark scruff, messy dark blond hair, hooded blue eyes, and a crooked smile. Your breath caught in your throat.

"I'm Eddie," he says and shakes your outstretched hand. You smile and take another sip of your beer. "Do I know you?" He asks suddenly.

"I was here a few weeks ago. I, uh, left in a hurry," you explain vaguely. He nods slowly and smirks, remembering. "So you're Eddie Brock the reporter?" He nods cautiously but doesn't answer. "Can I ask you something? I've been trying to do some research for a project," you lie smoothly and tuck your hair behind your ears.

"I guess it depends on what you ask. I may have an answer," he responds smoothly and then he turns his head and mutters something under his breath.

"I'm looking into vigilante groups in the city. Do you have any leads on where I should look. Especially f they don't appear to be human?" You ask pointedly and lean forward, catching his eye before he can look away.

His jaw tightens and he stands suddenly. "You should pick a different project," he says through clenched teeth and turns to leave, but not before placing a twenty on the bar. "Drinks on me."

"No wait!" you try to grab his arm, but he's already out the door. "Thanks," you mutter and sit back down, drinking the last of your bottle. Another dead end. "Ah hell," you mutter and dart out the door, following the handsome reporter. "Eddie?" you call his name, scanning the dark streets.

"Shut it, VEE! It's out of the question!" His voice floated up to you from one of the back alleys.

"But it's Y/N," he protested and you recognized the hiss of a voice. It was Venom. Eddie Brock knew Venom, you were sure of it.

"I don't care! It's dangerous. You shouldn't see her anymore. Leave her alone. I mean it." Eddie's voice was stern, almost like he was scolding a toddler.

"Eddie..." Venom hisses, holding the 'e'.

"No. I said No!" He says again. 

You peer around the brick wall and see Eddie standing half in the shadow of a streetlight. Venom's large white eyes shine in the darkness. "Maybe he should decide for himself," you say loudly and step into the light, trying to see them better.

"Y/N!" Venom smiles, showing rows and rows of shark like teeth.

"Let me do the talking for a minute. This will be tricky," Eddie says as he leans close to Venom. The creature nods and disappears into the shadows before Eddie steps forward. "You found me," he surmises lamely. "Listen. I can explain."

"I wish you would," you snap at him and fold your arms across your chest. "It's, ah, it's complicated," he begins and rubs his hand behind his neck again. A nervous tick, you notice, amused. "Venom and I... We... Uh..." He stops, trying to come up with the right words.

"You're friends? You're partners in crime? You're secretly seeing each other?" You smirk and tick the reasons off on your fingers. "Am I getting close?"

"No." He laughs nervously. "It's a bit more than that."

"Just tell her already!" Venom's face emerges from the shadows and seems to hover over Eddie's right shoulder. "We are Venom," he says simply. "Eddie is my host."

"Fucking Parasite," Eddie growls and glares at Venom's head.

"Take it back!" Venom mutters indignantly.

"Um..." You are at a loss for words as you slowly realize that Venom isn't standing behind Eddie, but that his head is coming out of Eddie's back in a thick stream of black goo. "I think I just... I don't..." You slowly walk backwards until your back hits the cold brick wall. "What..." No words. You had no words for what your eyes were seeing. It was like your brain just wouldn't process the information.

"Just breath. Take a minute." He looks at the face beside him. "Maybe you should just... Go away for a minute. Give her some space."

"But it's y/n. She's seen us before," he protests.

Not like this!" Eddie puts his hand over his face and exhales loudly. "There are at least 17 different ways this could have gone better," he mutters and you aren't sure if he's talking to Venom or himself. It's really the same thing if you think about it. "Literally. Like I'm counting them right now, you moron." Venom licks his lips and disappears without another word.

"Eddie?" you whisper once the two of you are alone again. "I think you need to buy me another drink. Something stronger," you suggest quietly.

He gives you a faint smile and nods, holding his hand out to you. "That seems fair."

THANKS FOR READING! Requests are open!

Here’s my MASTERLIST

PART 1

PART 2

[jellybeanforest-a-go-go]

So, the spouse has been gone for two days on a business trip. In that time, I wrote 7500 words for my upcoming fic “Pillow Talk,” so that’s quickly becoming a thing. I have no idea how long this is going to be, but I’m having way too much fun describing an even shittier version of the apartment I moved into after the breakdown of my first long-term relationship. 

Anyways, here’s the Summary: Billionaire playboy Tony Stark pisses off his latest one-night-stand, who plans to turn him into a Beast until he learns humility and compassion for his fellow man. He can already visualize Pepper’s disapproving glare as she’s forced to add yet another person to the security watch list. It figures he would eventually stick his dick in bonafide crazy.

“Is that really the best you got?” he scoffs. “That would be utterly unoriginal. Uninspired even.” He has already seen that movie and the remake.

…Maybe Tony should learn when to keep his mouth shut.

Or: A spurned lover turns Tony into a mattress.

Based on a Cap-Ironman Kinkmeme Prompt

Here’s an expanded snippet:

The man is handsome, tall and well-built, with a chiseled jaw line and dirty blond hair uncombed and stuck up at different angles. If Tony had been human, he might have invited the man back to his place on the thinnest of pretexts for a roll in the sheets. He looks like he could lift Tony with little trouble, and that sort of thing is always a good time. However, circumstances being what they are, Tony is currently comprised of quilted fabric, wire, and what he suspected might be heavy-duty foam, and he is completely mute. Ergo, he has no chance of charming the stud currently manhandling him.

These facts didn’t stop his internal monologue.

Your place or mine? He imagines himself asking, but the answer is self-evident. Mr. Large Hands is already carting him off to his humble abode on what has to be the fifth floor of a building with no elevator (Was that even legal?) for what was likely to be some G-rated bedtime fun, considering Tony’s size. Based on his recent string of bad luck, the man had probably acquired him as a replacement for the bed Little Timmy, his budding serial killer son, had slashed in a fit of rage.

He can see it now. Cause of Death: Murdered by a sociopathic kindergartener.

And so ends the life of one Tony Stark. Genius. Philanthropist. Scoundrel. Monster. War Profiteer.

All in all, a crummy excuse for a man and an even crummier mattress. Seriously, he wasn’t even memory foam. Gifting him in his current state to a kid must constitute child abuse.

Having rounded the fifth floor stair case, Father-of-the-Year lifts him up and walks down the short darkened hallway, stopping in front of his unit. He puts him down and fiddles with the door – God, he didn’t even bother locking it. What if Little Timmy got out and murdered a kitten? – before it swings open, revealing a… huh, this must be the parlor room. Tony didn’t know apartments in Brownsville had parlor rooms to receive guests.

Maybe-Daddy proceeds to angle Tony through the door, then straightens him out as he clears the back wall of the hallway. Tony observes his new home. In the kitchen to his right, unpacking a paltry number of items into a cupboard is another man with a scruff of facial hair and long dark hair drawn up in a messy man bun. Probably The Boyfriend™. Which didn’t explain what Tony was doing here. Not that he would mind having two gorgeous men on top of him, but Tony is clearly meant for single occupancy.

Mr. Not-a-Father pushes Tony across the threshold, and Tony realizes with startling clarity, that this is not a parlor room. The room containing the currently-scowling boyfriend is not a kitchen. If Tony is feeling generous, he would call it a kitchenette. There is a small fridge, dual hotplate, and a microwave but no oven nor is there a dishwasher. Not that Mr. Not-a-Father-But-Definitely-a-Daddy, Esq., and his disgruntled boyfriend need one as Tony can now clearly see the cupboard contains only two dishes, a single bowl, a tall thermos, and four mismatched mugs (one of which bears the wildly-inaccurate title “#1 Grandpa” in Darlin BTN font). Just beyond the kitchen is a lumpy couch covered clumsily in what looks to be a blue fitted sheet next to a set of free weights. There’s a bathroom door open to his left, through which he can see a narrow sink, chipped mirror and the rim of the toilet bowl on one side with a small corner shower across. Hell, if Steve aimed just right, he may be able to piss into the toilet from the shower.

Living the dream, Tony thinks, rather unkindly.

Of course, this hellscape is accompanied by a fitting soundtrack appropriate for its distinctive ambiance: the unmistakable low, ever-present buzz of florescent lighting joined in terrible harmony by the gurgling toilet that only stops when Steve leaves him propped up in the doorway to go jiggle the flusher. This short respite allows Tony a nice close-up of the plaster walls, pitted and cracked over semi-exposed brick. Across the way, almost lined up with the door is a single window with a third of the cheap metal blinds missing and another third bent at odd angles to prevent proper operation. It’s bad feng shui all around, but that’s the least of Tony’s concerns. The largest, most pressing of which is that what he’s seeing is literally an entire apartment for two full-grown adult humans.

“Ugh, seriously Stevie?” The Boyfriend™ seems disgusted with Tony’s presence, which is rich coming from someone who lives like this.

#1 Grandpa – Stevie, apparently – pauses halfway in their trek to the far left corner, looking sheepish.

“So it’s a little…” he looks up and rolls one hand, clearly searching for a charitable word to describe his curbside acquisition, “Used, but the padding is intact and no springs are poking out of it.” He shrugs, lifting Tony up the rest of the (short) distance to drop him into position.

The Boyfriend™ crosses the room in four strides to sit on the couch along the opposite wall. “Several generations of rats have likely lived and died inside that thing.”

Hey now, the cat urine scared off Ratatouille and friends, Tony thinks, a little hysterically.

Stevie rolls his eyes. “I already checked it for holes.”

“It’s filthy,” The Boyfriend™ counters.

“It’s a pillow-top.”

“But it’s a twin! I know things have been tough since–”

“Bucky.”

Ah, a name…

“Since, well, you know,” Bucky, who is definitely not The Boyfriend™, finishes lamely. “But one day, you’re going to want to put yourself out there again, and a twin mattress screams, ‘I don’t think this dating thing is really going to work out for me.’”

“…It’s perfect.”

“Steve…” Bucky runs his fingers over his hair, pulling loose some strands from his man-bun. “Look, I’ll buy you a new bed. A real mattress. One that hasn’t seen at least half a dozen litters of stray cats and two near-fatal overdoses. Consider it a ‘welcome home’ gift.”

Stevie – or Steve, probably Steve – gathers a spray bottle and powdered enzymatic cleaner before walking towards the sink. “Neither of us has the money.” He adds some powder into the container then fills it up from the tap.

“I’ll find the money. I’ll pick up extra shifts at the bar. I’ll sweep hair at Bill’s barbershop. But that thing you dragged in here? It’s unsalvageable. It’s making me depressed, and I’m not even the one who has to sleep on it.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Save your money.” Steve returns to Tony’s side, armed with the spray bottle. He doesn’t even look in his friend’s direction, ignoring his clear disapproval.

“You could always move in with me and Nat, you know?” Bucky offers softly. “I already cleared it with her. Seriously. We have a couch, a real one that isn’t a sheet over a stack of discarded gym mats.” He pats Steve’s ‘couch’ and eyes the far corner where the fitted sheet isn’t quite stretched over enough to cover. Tony can now see the elastic hugs the edge of a mat two up from the floor, the tip sagging forlornly over the flaked plastic coating of the bottom-most ones. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You don’t have to live like this, Tony hears him plead.

Steve remains stoic, unmoved. “Thanks for the noodles and the company, Buck, but I think I should finish unpacking.”

Bucky isn’t even subtle as he surveys the tiny studio. Steve obviously owns very little, and what little there is has already been unboxed and put away with the exception of a duffle bag and suitcase spilling out of a small closet under a row of empty wire hangers and a new plastic sleeve of beige polyester-blend sheets from a generic brand popular in dorms.

Bucky doesn’t challenge his lie. “What are you doing this Monday?” he asks instead.

“I’m fine. Really.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if you had plans. Nat’s on a business trip in an undisclosed location – I’m thinking Eastern Europe, but you know how cagey she gets when I guess – and I’ve got the run of our place. Was thinking we could go out, you, me and Sam.”

“I don’t–”

“Okay, we can stay in,” Bucky interjects quickly before Steve can cement his refusal. “Watch a bootleg and drink a couple six-packs, just like the old days. What do you say?”

“I’ll think about it,” Steve says in a voice even Tony can tell means he won’t.

But the man is relentless. “I’ll give you a call later. If you don’t pick up, I will be hurt – devastated, really – so much so that I’ll have to come over and drag you out for milkshakes to get over it.”

That seems to do it. Steve chuckles. “Alright, alright, I got it.”

Steve sees Bucky out shortly after, but his friendly, borderline-jovial façade crumbles upon the click of the lock. His shoulders slump ,and he turns, leaning his back against the door as he sinks heavily to the ground, kicking his feet out in front of him and drawing one knee up. He covers his face in both hands and breathes in deep and audible, rubbing his closed eyes with the heel of his palms when his breath hitches on the exhale.

Tony is infinitely grateful when Steve manages not to cry.