#Behind-the-scenes snippets

[indepthjaybeats]

Unleashing Your Flow: Releasing Freestyle Videos

Unlock unrivaled productivity & unleash your flow with this tried & tested guide. Learn strategies to optimize & increase your focus.

Introduction: Picture this: a dimly lit room, the hum of a beat lingering in the air, and the raw, unfiltered energy of a freestyle that is unleashing your flow. Freestyling isn’t just an art; it’s a window into the soul of a rapper. Now, imagine harnessing that raw talent and turning it into a strategic move that not only captivates your audience but skyrockets your music sales. Today, we’re…

[mizgnomer]

David Tennant and Catherine Tate having fun on the set of Wild Blue Yonder / Doctor Who 60th Anniversary

(and Bernard Cribbins too)

[sophsun1]

Interview With The Vampire | Best Of Midnight Snacks

[felassan]

post from Dragon Age: Dreadwolf developer Luke B. (Game Systems Director for Dragon Age) on the unofficial BioWare forum, discussing the reasons why in Dragon Age: Inquisition there was no healing mechanic and instead the barrier system was introduced in the gameplay:

"I can't speak to any other games directly but I can give a bit of historic context for DAI. The game was initially a more dungeon/linear delving - see how far you can get - experience and there was no barrier of any kind. As a side note: healing has always been a hot topic in design because as soon as you include it there are many other conceits you now need take into consideration for the gameplay - one of which I will call 'the Anders problem'. Anyway, as DAI got the date moved and shifted more into the pseudo-openworld the concept of attrition (see how far you can get before having to return to camp) became less relevant and we needed to help the Players have more moment-to-moment agency around their survival. Unfortunately for various reasons (one of which is the sad reality of designing a game with a shifting timeline) the healing couldn't be re-added so we ended up with more of a mitigation strategy in the barrier system. It went through a lot of iterations but eventually landed on what it shipped with which I would call... acceptable (but just barely). Now, I will concede that a part of the reason it didn't return after that shift was an aversion to holy trinity gameplay specifically for MP but it wasn't the core reason. As a side story, trying to balance the game (as that was my job on DAI - and yes, it could be much better haha) we had to all but force Players to take barrier. It is intentionally the first skill in the first tree for the Mage and all the autolevel (I also handled that) is designed to get it right away. Feel free to ask other DAI questions, I'm happy to answer about things I was directly involved in 😁. Anything DA:D related you'll have to wait for at least a few months after launch to grill me...though I'm hoping they let me stream at launch as an official thing 🤞." [source]

a user asked about what the hardest class to balance in DA:I was:

"I feel like anyone who was around for the post-launch content will already know the answer to this as it was the bane of my existence when I got put exclusively on MP after launch but the Knight-Enchanter barrier absorbing was a pain. Stuff like that is very challenging to feel good without being broken as they are relative to damage so scaling is fairly open-ended. Too little and the casual players won't get use out of it, too much and the character builders will be wildly OP. We actually had a 'no nerfing' guideline for the SP side so it was a hard battle to fix that silly thing 🙃." [source]

[ireallyamabear]

HAVE YOU SEEN THESE 4 DEAD PEOPLE

[sirrentxt]

And if he stayed faithful, on his own terms? If he still prayed at nights, if he still showed up at church every now and then, even if he never went to confess anymore? The moment he realizes that what Saddler wants is to play God; the moment he realizes he will make himself into one with Luis' own help? Oh, the guilt. Not just from the perspective of a scientist who works to see the wonders of the world, to see how far it can be pushed and in how many directions—but from the perspective of a man who believes, and now can only bring himself to say “God save us all.”

It brings a whole new flavor to the way he tries to redeem himself when you bring religion into it. He realizes that God won't save them. That it's up to the people, that it's up to him; and how does it feel for a man of faith to know that he's been helping another become God? How desperate is the attempt to right his wrongs in the face of the things he's seen and the things he's done and what it all means, suddenly afraid that he will not find peace in the afterlife?

All this time trying to stay true to himself, to reject the hate towards difference that he grew up with, to leave behind the ways they taught him and become his own person, for whom faith is a way to make peace with the world and not something to be scared of—all that, only to, in the end, die wondering if his last attempt at being a good person happened because he stayed true to himself, or because he was afraid of being judged as a sinner who did not repent for the things he's brought upon the world.

pet project: meta // luis, on osmund saddler

[antilocaprine]

Slowly but surely plugging away at the conclusion of Evergreen. Things will get worse before they get better.

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Whenever (since I'm way late for a Wednesday check-in)

Popping in with a new OC reveal this week, mwah. Meet Sébastien as he runs headfirst, or shall I say falls, into trouble.

"And above all, keep your feet and legs together.", the faint droning of the instructor rang in the background as Sébastien regarded the picturesque scenery below him through the opening of the small plane, "You listenin'?" He let out a chuckle before sending a smile the man's way, same one he would offer his father's investors anytime he'd be forced to sit into a meeting with them and pretend he knew all about running their family business. "Of course, m-", he racked his brain, trying to remember a name, first or last, anything, at the end coming up empty, "my dear newfound friend." The bored look he received as a reply wasn't promising, but he wasn't there to impress anyone, rather than seconds away from plummeting down from 10 000 feet up, if luck had it, gracefully and without a hitch. "You sighed the waiver.", the man muttered under his breath before continuing, "From your demeanor, I take it you're not worried?" "No.", Sébastien lied as he braced against the side of the plane, completely suited up, wondering if the truth would stop him from his most recent adrenaline seeking spontaneous trip. His forged license ensured him passage, a seat on the plane, almost making him forget he had to also act the part, doubting money would slay the person in front of him with how much weight he put on the rules even before take-off.

"Good.", a mumble sounded from the front, followed by a wave from their pilot aimed at the instructor. "-clearance.", he strained his ears, trying to catch whatever the two were hunkered down and whispering about. "Okay. Showtime, Mr. King.", it took him a lot of willpower to not instinctively correct the fake name he had given upon meeting the man and signing a stack of documents before his dive. His father would always talk about how much pride he had to have in the Gallagher-Kerring name, the legacy it carried, same one that gave people a pause and made it super easy for him to be tracked down. "I thought we weren't due for a couple of more minutes?", checking his watch was close to impossible, with all the gear he had on, but eventually he managed to confirm his suspicion. The scenery wasn't of much help location wise with the fields and various small structures scattered between winding roads signaling, he could have been anywhere over Montana. The body of water they passed reminded him he wasn't exactly listening to that part of the lecture. Just aim for anything that's not water. Easy. "Time flies.", was all the instructor offered before bracing his hands on his hips, "Usually we would need the equipment back by Friday, or else you lose the deposit, but seeing how you have your own and didn't request retrieval…" "That won't be an issue?" The plan was to skydive, land near Missoula, maybe hitchhike there if he felt extra adventurous. Everything he wore was practically brand new, purchased after he had stormed the closest specialized store he could find the moment he had left the most recent gathering Frank Gallagher-Kerring had bestowed upon him. The bright yellow and black piece covering his lean body wasn't exactly his first choice, but he was assured it was the best and most expensive one they had.

"Yeah. Any further questions, Mr. King?" "No. Thank you.", he paired the words with another grin while wishing for the man to already stop talking. With a final clearance and another quick whisper session with the pilot, Sébastien found himself threading air, all his instincts screaming at him he would die. Instead of listening to the pesky voice, he focused on his surroundings and how the small dots that were in reality trees and other buildings became large, closer as he spread his limbs face-to-earth to avoid spinning out and actually making true on that fear. "I'm alive!", he screamed on top of his lungs, absorbing as much of the giddy sensation as he could. There always came a time during whatever dangerous endeavor he partook where his mind would seem so much clearer, though usually he had others with him, drowning out the tranquility. "3000 feet.", the altimeter attached to his helmet announced, kicking him back into action as he recalled his instructor's word about the moment he needed to open his parachute. His right hand grasped the rip-cord while his left came to rest across his waist. A sudden jolt followed as the canopy unfolded, making his breath hitch. He pushed through the shock as a satisfied smile spead over his features. "Piece of cake.", he muttered while his eyes zeroed on a white shape speeding down one of the roads he could see from his position. He had no idea how much time passed where he descended towards the clearing he believed was good enough for a landing with the alternative of ending up in one of the trees nearby, slightly worrying him.

Then he felt it, trying to convince himself the adrenaline was playing tricks on him - something flying past him as smaller forms that looked almost like ants came into view. Whatever calm had taken over his body left him at once when the whoosh happened again, followed by another. A stinging sensation registered in his arm as he gripped his parachute risers tighter. His gaze widened in horror at the tear in his suit as another bullet flew past and missed him. The multiple holes marrying the previously intact material of the bright yellow and black canopy only fueled it. "No fucking waaaaay.", he let out a string of curses as panic swooped in together with the realization he was being shot at. That the shapes that previously looked like ants were people with guns and coming in closer as he descended down. In his attempts to avoid getting killed by something that had nothing to do with his questionable choices, he focused on the road next to the clearing, hoping the maniacs would let out if he landed outside of what he assumed was their private property they were so dead set on defending from an innocent skydiver. Their angry yells mixed until they were indistinguishable as he began plummeting down faster thanks to his parachute being turned into swiss cheese. The wind worked in his favor somewhat, granting him a lead on his pursuers. More bullets flew, all missing him by mere chance, making him glad whoever those men were they certainly had worse aim than him at his very first shooting lesson his father had dragged him to when he was but 10.

"Come on. Come on, baby.", he chanted as his luck ran out and his hopeful descent turned nightmarish, faster, out of control. It was becoming clear making it to the safety of the road wasn't in the cards for him when his trajectory shifted dramatically despite him trying his hardest to keep steady. "FUCCK.", ripped out of his throat as he calculated his chances of making it over the tree line separating the fields from the road. No way. It was going to take a miracle. All he could do was close his eyes while his elbows locked together to instinctively protect his face from the incoming collusion. A part of him wondered if he should pray, if anything would even consider saving him with his track record of mayhem. "I wanna live. I'd donate all my money if I have to.", spilled out as a promise, thought he meant just the first part, letting go of his usual lifestyle felt impossible, out of the question. It's all he had and considered deserving off after surviving being raised by a Gallagher-Kerring. Sébastien had no idea how his landing actually unfolded as he kept his eyes shut, chanting reassurances under his breath, all he knew was that one second he was facing certain death, the next he felt his parachute hook onto something. "What the-", he could still hear faint shouts behind him, as his harness pulled at his body, feet dangling uselessly midair instead of touching the ground below, "I'm alive? Fuck. Gotta move." His hands shook as he grasped at the buckles, willing for his fingers to cooperate and undo them before whatever advantage he had on his attackers would vanish entirely.

"It's not that high. Nope.", he lied to himself, feeling idiotic for fearing such small drop after having literally dove out from a plane and risked his life for thrills. He held his breath as the final straps keeping him suspended gave way and gravity brought him down, his not so graceful but loosened stance softening his fall to a degree. With racing heart he relaxed into the grass beneath him, his victory becoming shortlived as he looked up and met a pair of angry eyes, then his gaze lowered, stopping at the rifle cluthed in the bloody grip of the unkept man looming above him. "Friendly, kind sir.", he whispered and shimmied back until his helmet made contact with something solid. It's just a big stone. Yeah. Not a leg connected to a person. It's what went through his mind despite suspecting reality was different and granted, when his head twisted to glance at what he had run into in his attempt to retreat, another just as equally furious seeming man greeted him by sneering his way. He would have bet a good chunk of money they were brothers, with the one behind him looking like he had been eating his vegetables and then some. "Fried-", a hand pulled him to his feet like he weighted nothing and made the word die before it formed fully, especially with how the longhaired Berserker wanna-be was holding onto his helmet, making him wonder if his grip would squish his head if nothing stood in its path. The fact he was taller than Sébastien didn't help, either. "We should call this in. Otis, get me Brother John on the line.", the shorter brother barked an order, attention shifting past the two. And then there were three?

His captor let out a low grunt, "We should, Bo… but he said he is to not be bothered today. Under any circumstance." "With the exception of anything related to the Deputy.", a third voice presumably belonging to Otis added, or at least it's what he hoped - that he wasn't about to be surrounded by a whole gang of trigger happy locals that took trespassing way too seriously. I wasn't even touching the ground. His hand inched up to his face, aiming for the clasp under his chin while Bo rubbed his dark beard, contemplating their options. "This Sinner fell from the sky.", he pointed his rifle at Sébastien, making him hold his breath in anticipation of the worst, "What if this is part of the Father's prophecy? A sign?" Sinner? Father? WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? Did I travel back in time? Sébastien forced a laugh, "It's called skydiving, have you people not heard of it? You know, plane, jumping, freefalling, then parachuting the rest of the-" The Berserker shook him in warning, its threatening tone not halting his concealed efforts at freeing himself, "SHUT UP." "Sorry. Just-" "I said shut your mouth, Sinner before you become an Angel.", the sentence was uttered through gritted teeth, before the man addressed his shorter look-alike, "Or the Sinners are sending in reinforcements, airdropping them, hoping we'd be caught off guard." Like I have a chance at taking you all out. I've been hitting the gym, but not that HARD. "Call this in, Otis. Brother John would like to know.", Bo concluded with a nod.

The second the command was spoken out loud, the clasp securing the helmet to Sébastien's head came undone. Before any of the three men could blink, he was making a run for it, discarding the piece of equipment as years of running track in highschool came back to him, but instead of running to impress his father, he was running for his life. "GRAB HIM.", the scream Bo released pushed him to speed up, his calves and whole body really aching from the fall while his eyes remained glued ahead, knowing glancing back would do him no good. Only add to his raising panic, feeding a different level of adrenaline. With the rustling behind him signaling the nearing recapture, he vaulted the fence that stood between him and freedom, leaping onto the road and almost getting ran over by a white truck in the process. His hands rose up as to shield him as Sébastien saw his life flash before him for a second time that day before whoever was behind the wheel hit the breaks hard, forcing the vehicle to an abrupt stop inches away from him. "I'M CROSSING HERE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.", he yelled and hit the truck's hood for good measure, and he would have been embarrassed by how high pitched the words were, if he wasn't absolutely furious. I'm a Gallagher-Kerring. His brain didn't even fully register the strange cross painted on the vehicle or how it matched the one on his pursuers' sweaters. "Get down.", a deep voice responded before a shot rang out and he ducked without a second thought, scrambling towards the side of the truck as bullets began flying. A rumbling noise sounded from the treeline, followed by a red light exploding in the sky. A flare.

Sébastien watched in horror, suspecting more trouble was headed his way when the gunfire died down as fast as it had started. "Hey.", a door slammed shut, making him move further away from the passenger's side of the truck while the same voice from before added, "You alive, jaywalker?" Boots crunched against the gravel as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his determined approach and the fact he was armed activating Sébastien's fight or flight instincts. "Stay back.", he hollered as a blond man, who couldn't have been older than him, came into view. "Easy now.", a laughter escaped him when he shoved his gun in the waistband of his jeans, his palm circled his own face then pointed at him, "Did you fall into a bush?" "No." "Got caught in the cattle fence as little ducky was crossing the road? Where's your mama?", Sébastien eyed his outstretched arm with suspicious before reluctantly grabbing it so he can help him up. He shook of the man's hold, putting safe distance between them as he braced for another attack. "Skydiving into a tree.", he muttered under his breath and a realization dawned on him, "YOU- YOU- DUCKY?" The stranger shrugged as he regarded him from head to toe before swiveling on his heel, "Yellow. Duck. Wasn't me who picked that outfit, chief. Would you rather me call you baby chick? That was option B. Felt too on the nose."

His anger rose back to the surface as the man climbed back into his truck and he spun to stare at him through the rolled down window, "You have no idea who you're talking to!" All he got initially was a slow, unimpressed blink, "Do tell, your Majesty?", he tapped his watch, an old looking thing, "But make it quick." "I-", his mouth snapped shut. A smirk came over the man across him, "Well? You shy? I'd start first, name's Calahan. Calahan Hartley. Your turn." "Sébastien Theodore Phoenix Sawyer Thatcher Landon Nicholas Gallagher-Kerring.", his full name spilled out, making him feel like he was at the front of his class, confusing everyone and then himself by the reaction it always got out of people. Blond eyebrows twisted in confusion before Calahan released a chuckle, the usual of recognition upon speaking the Gallagher-Kerring name nowhere in sight, "Wait. Are you actually for real?" "It's my name." "Jesus. Your parents hate you or something, bud?", he leaned back into his seat, giving him a first look at the bodies laying on the road a few feet away from them, the pools of blood making him woozy. In turn, Hartley seemed completely at ease, like he hadn't just taken out three men and potentially saved his life. Sébastien frowned, "No." Silence took over before Calahan cleared his throat and nodded at the passenger's side, "You need a ride?" "I will pass." "Be my guest, your Majesty, just a friendly word of advice… that red flare? Means more of those fuckers are coming as reinforcements and I ain't sticking around to play your bodyguard, I'm on a tight schedule. When they roll up, just say you're ready for your Cleansing and praise the Father."

"You're not one of them?" "Hell no." A sigh left Sébastien before his fingers lowered to the door handle, "They shot at me." "Their usual modus operandi with all of us locals. Where?" He pulled at his sleeve until the place where one of the bullets had grazed his upper arm peeked through, crimson marrying the yellow material. "Have seen worse, far worse." "Are you serious?" Mischief shone in his eyes, "You're gonna live, bud, I promise, giving ya the word of a Hope County Deputy. Last chance, are you hitching a ride with me or going for a Peggie pick-up? John is going to have a field day with ya." As he said that, he stepped on the gas enough for the vehicle to inch forward, clearly enjoying the precicament Sébastien had found himself in and how riled up he got at his words. "Who's John?", he asked as he settled into the passenger seat. "It's a long story, short one is: someone you don't want to mess with. How about you start tellin' me how you ended up here and why these three were chasing you?" "It's a long story.", Sébastien parrotted back, finding himself unable to shake off the bitereness at the man's previous comments. "Cheer up, your Majesty. I should be sulking at you for almost denting my truck, after the hassle it was to steal." "I have a name. And you stole a truck?" Calahan rolled his eyes, "Among other things. So, what should I call you for short because I ain't reciting that long-ass name back to you…"

His hands crossed over his chest as Calahan put the truck into drive, "Nothing." "Rubber ducky it is, then." "Maurizio's fine.", he grumbled, causing the Deputy to laugh again. So happy to be providing entertainment for you. "That wasn't even among the names you listed, chief. I think." "It's what friends call me." "Uh-oh, did I get upgraded to a friend?" "Absolutely not." "Ouch.", Calahan rubbed his chest, "Hurts almost as a bullet. You part of a dynasty?" "Something like that. Why were they shooting at me?" "Cult took over after we tried to arrest their leader, has the whole county on lockdown and communications cut off, hence why I was askin' how you got here." "What, I don't look like a local?" He snorted, "Do I start with your outfit, posh accent, or long name that won't fit on a name tag?" "I'm regretting my choice to hitchhike already." "Hey, no offense. You asked. Plus, you need to flag me down first, not jump out in the middle of the road like you're trying to trap me into paying you damages." Sébastien ignored the apology, "How do I get to Missoula?" "You listening to anything I just said? Or did you hit your head as you fell down? Lockdown." Denial seeped into his system at the fact he was stranded in the wrong place, "I need a ride to Missoula." "Can't do."

"I will pay you.", he patted the inside pocket of his suit, the wad of cash he carried around for emergencies giving him a sense of comfort. "As tempting as that sounds, we're in a middle of a holy war, so I can't be your personal driver." "I need to make a call then. You got a cell?" He had left his own behind, knowing his father would immediately track him down otherwise, now he kind of wished he would have left a trail to follow. Certainly, would have solved his 'stuck in the middle of a hostile conflict' problem promptly. Calahan groaned, "You truly ain't listening." The truck drove past a sign announcing they're entering 'Fall's End.', and his attention drifted off again, forcing his reluctant driver to call out his nickname. "What?" "I asked if you're fine making a quick stop on the way to the doctor's. I know you have to get that fatal wound treated ASAP." "Stop where?" Various structures lined the road on both sides, some burned down, others appearing like they had housed a face-off or two. "Here.", the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of a relatively spared building, the neon sign of a woman in just her bikini and a set of wings drawing his gaze. "A bar? It's barely past noon." He had no idea why he had even muttered that, considering he himself had participated in far worse activities in his lifetime, ones that often created a media storm Frank Gallagher-Kerring paid a fortune to bury. "You can stay in the car, posh boy. I won't be long."

Calahan didn't wait for his reply, quickly exiting the car without sparing him a look as he strutted inside the bar. "Fuck this.", Sébastien slammed the door with way too much force, contemplating if he should try to track down a working phone line, no matter how much he dreaded crawling back to his father that soon. This is hardly a proper rebellion. At the end, he dragged himself towards the bar, the bell's jiggle cutting off whatever conversation Calahan was having with a woman and by the knowing look she gave him, he was most likely the subject of it. "Mary May, this is…", Hartley paused, expecting he would just introduce himself, then turned around to shoot him a glance, "Humor me. I saved your life." "Sébastien Gallagher-Kerring." "Hilarious. You forgot like 20 names." "Whatcha drinking?", the blonde nodded his way. "Organic tea?" Before he knew it, she was placing a quick kiss against Calahan's cheek before backing away with an annoyed expression, "I hate you, you know that, Rookie?" "The feeling of being right.", he sighed and locked his hands at the nape of his neck, leaning back in the chair he was occupying. "Sorry, I'm lost.", Sébastien uttered out as he slid into the seat next to his. "You're in a bar in Montana.", Mary May began and placed an empty glass in front of him, "Closest you'd get to me making you tea, even at lunch is serving you lukewarm water with some of my spit in it. Organic." Calahan leaned in, whispering loudly, "Also known as blatant disrespect. Which I would advise against." "Damn right. You order liquor.", she chimed in as she poured him a drink, "With how pale you are, it might even do you some good."

"Man went through his first Peggie encounter, Angel." "And then Zorro got to his face and bold choice of outfit, too?" It was the second time someone had commented on his face, making him wonder if he wanted to see the damage done by his landing while his hand ran across his clean-shaven cheek. "Skydiving." At the same moment Calahan said, "Maurizio hugged a tree… and it hugged him back." "No wonder he asked for organic tea." "He is also in the room.", Sébastien retorted back before he brought the glass to his lips, hoping the alcohol look make his situation seem less hopeless, or at least take care of the constant dull pain in his arm. The bell chimed behind him, and while he ignored the sound, choosing to wallow in his bad luck, Hartley spun around in his seat and let out a low whistle directed at whoever had arrived. "Chief! Come meet a noble." "Noble?", there was humor in the newcomer's voice as he slapped his back and leaned against the bar. Sébastien could feel him staring and he reluctantly lifted his gaze, meeting a pair of friendly blue eyes. "See this face, ducky? You see someone like him but covered in tattoos and rambling about sin and the Power of Yes,", Calahan waves his hand towards the man's face like he was giving a lesson, "you run the other way. Preferably not in front of my truck." "Very funny, Cal.", the dark haired man grumbled out, before reaching his arm across him for a handshake, "Leslie Parish. Don't mind him. I look nothing like John." "Still in denial." "Sébastien Gallagher-Kerring." "Well, now that you two are acquainted, Les, do you feel like givin' me a hand and taking this one to the doc? Peggies gave him a boo-boo." After blowing a kiss to Mary May Calahan jumped out of his chair, pushing the door open just as Leslie finally realized he was being entrusted to take care of a complete stranger, "Should I expect trouble?" He smirked at the question, "From me or him? Both debatable."

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @direwombat @purplehairsecretlair @jillvalentinesday @unholymilf @florbelles @madparadoxum @strafethesesinners @nightbloodbix @voidika @theelderhazelnut @clicheantagonist @wrathfulrook @dumbassdep @cassietrn @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @harmonyowl @aceghosts @shegetsburned @onehornedbeast and anyone that would like to share anything this week <3

[lunar-years]

ok happy wip wednesday everyone xxx I had a burst of inspiration today and now my unnamed rjk friends with benefits fic is at 22k words which means I'm giving you an extra-long sneak peak :)

Please enjoy this little snippety snippet:

The breakdown that had been building all day finally came once he sat down in his driver’s seat and realized, promptly, that he didn’t feel capable of putting the car into gear. Beyond that, driving home felt like a herculean effort, and once he got there he wouldn’t be able to turn on the telly, because it was still set to Sky Sports from the night before, and all the pundits were going to be talking about were him. He couldn’t log on to his socials, either, because the fans were all going to be talking about him, and not in the good way, and besides that he didn’t want to look at his mobile because his dad might’ve called, or might not’ve called, and Jamie didn’t even know which one was worse one way or the other anymore. He was out now for the next three matches. That were bad enough as it was. Add in that Roy might not even talk to him now, might go back to that terrible time when he'd refused to coach Jamie directly and make Nate or Beard do it instead, and things were a rightful misery. Jamie didn’t have any idea how to make it up to him. Roy being so adamant about not mixing work with whatever else they got up to, even his best apology blowjob wasn’t likely to suffice. He wondered, too tired to feel all that desperate about it, if this was the end of all of that, too. Roy probably wouldn’t want to fuck him again after such a display, and Jamie could hardly blame him. He shouldn’t feel such grief over it, honestly. Jamie had known from the beginning the sex was temporary. Just a bit of fun. And now he’d gone and botched even that, which was probably always something that was bound to happen, given that it was him. But just as well, there it was. It had happened now, and Jamie didn’t feel resigned to it like he was supposed to, he felt…hollow. Hurt.  That was his own fucking fault, too.  It was too much to think about. More than anything, he wanted to shut off his brain for even an hour. As that weren’t an option, he settled for the next best thing—hitting the steering wheel so hard it made his hand throb and then bursting promptly into tears about it, right there in the Richmond car park.  //

He didn’t know how long he sat there pathetically crying, but eventually there was a gentle knock on the window. Keeley. Jamie blinked twice just to confirm it was really her and not a hallucination, like them people who got stuck in the desert and then imagined springs of water just because they were so desperate for it. She smiled at him kindly through the window, looking solid enough, and then tapped it again with her finger and gestured for him to roll it down.  “What are you still doing here?” he asked as soon as he’d done so, swiping at his face and trying not to be deeply embarrassed at her finding him in such a state. Usually Keeley disappeared with Rebecca immediately after their matches, off for cocktails and gossip or whatever it was the two of them got up to. He'd never expected her to show up. Now, Keeley stared at him with big, soft eyes that made Jamie want immediately to start crying again. She didn’t answer him immediately. “Oh babe,” she whispered instead, bringing a handkerchief up to his face and swiping lightly at this cheeks. “Care if I join you?” Jamie nodded, flipping the lock. Keeley walked around the boot and rematerialized in the passenger side, immediately pulling him towards her over the centre console and stroking through his hair before he could even process it was happening, like she was his guardian fairy, or whatever.  Ridiculously, Jamie’s brain chose then to remember the time she’d called his car pavlovian. Couldn’t be in here without wanting to jump his bones. Well Keels, he thought, letting out a clipped laugh that sounded more like a choke and made Keeley's grip in his hair tighten, look how far we’ve come. There was decidedly nothing sexy about him getting snot all over her Richmond windbreaker as he sobbed into her shoulder, sometimes letting out that hysterical, barked laugh. He couldn't stop. Keeley's hair was frizzy-soft today, the ends tickling his neck where her ponytail draped over him, and the edge of the console was pressing into his side unpleasantly, but he didn’t want to move, either. He didn’t want her to go away.  “I was worried about you when you didn’t answer my six messages, love,” Keeley said softly, pressing her lips against his hairline. 

[crazy-grrrl-on-the-computer]

Last line tag game!

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

Tagged by @auniverseforgotten and @thatlittledandere

I'm back on my Ichiryuu bullshit (as if I ever really left)~ uwu <3

The sound of his classmate’s voice earnestly calling out stopped Ichiban from running and he pivoted just enough to see that Zaou’s hand had reflexively reached out – reaching for him – but froze partway. “I was just… surprised,” Zaou explained carefully like he was thinking about each word before he said it. “I am pretty busy, so I wouldn’t have time every day and sometimes certain things come up last minute, but I guess I could use the help.” Ichiban tried to swallow his nerves, but his heart was in the way. “I understand. When would be a good time for you?” Zaou hummed absentmindedly as he searched for an answer, then suddenly his eyes lit up. “Ah! Give me your phone.” Ichiban obediently fished it out of his pocket and placed it in Zaou’s expectant hand. It wouldn’t occur to him until after the shock had worn off that perhaps he should have asked why first, but the fact that Zaou’s fingers were masterfully navigating his phone screen was doing unexpected things to his brain chemistry that he was sure would accidentally translate into a mortifying collection of words the instant he opened his mouth. This was a bad idea. Possibly the worst idea. Why did he ever think he could— “Here,” Zaou mercifully interrupted his spiraling train of thought and held the phone out to him again. “I’ll have to check my schedule first, so I’ll text you when I work something out.”

Trying to pretend that this is a "last line" game instead of just a "last thing I wrote" game is a fool's errand for me at this point. I truly cannot shut up about the things I love and this is my most wordy contribution to the feedback loop yet. //bricked

Tagging: @auniverseforgotten , @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth , @koolkitty9 , @floweryuu , @lanliingwang

As always, there’s no pressure to share and if I missed someone who wants to be included feel free to consider yourself also tagged~ <3

[howlingguardian]

If I had a nickel for every fanfic snippet I read today detailing the backstory and thought process of a redheaded side character in a grim piece of fiction, I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

[moe-broey]

VIVID fucking idea I had last night....

Background info, I think Moe has some really distinct tendencies that Alfonse ends up being able to immediately identify it by (and finds a lot of comfort in doing so). One of which, is it doing a quiet, hesitant, but steady knock. Persistent, but with long pauses in between.

ENTER..... the Vision........ just. This entire sequence. "You'll never hear from me again". Into, the quiet knock only a few hours later. Into bursting in with the MOST enthusiastic, "HOLY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Moe really is Some Type of Guy LMFAOO

Fave panels.......

[psychologicalwarclaire]

For the ask game:

DEG

D - Song or Playlist Associated with the Spider's Web

Actually, my beta reader made a playlist for Spider's Web With Strings Attached! It's right here and it really captures the essence of the fic perfectly. The two songs that sum up the fic are probably 'Fight for Me' by Aliceband and 'Welcome to the Circus' by Skittish.

E - What would a Spider's Web sequel look like?

In a Spider's Web sequel I would take a deeper look into the arena. The politics of the Hidden City, what the arena does for the economy, why Yokai would enlist, uprisings in the past. Honestly it would be more of a Big Mama-central prequel.

G - Start to Finish or Out of Order

Most of the time I write chronologically. But if I get a really good idea for the future, then I'll write it down. Chapter 20 was essentially just a patchwork of prewritten scenes made to flow together. When I have really good ideas, I write them down. Unfortunately they don't always fit in later so I have to rewrite it.

[messyhairdiaz]

You ever read a book and you can literally feel it setting feminism back

[magicaldreamfox1]

GUYS happy sugar daddy au 1 year anniversary

[scarefox]

I hope the fan meeting show thing will have the Playboyys in character because I want Prom to show them off like

I am not even there (duh), I just hope we get to see videos of it 😔