#but my wip has been pretty much done for over a month now and i should really just post it so im gonna edit it and post! 💪

[strawberryclementine]

I hope to update my HanKisa WIP in the next couple of days, sorry for the random absence of Kisaki-posting 🫠

[spearxwind]

Hi hello I wanna talk a bit about CD currently but Im not sure if its gonna be too long/negative so I'm gonna put my thoughts under a lid <3

So like. To start off it's really not a secret that I have a lot of trouble when it comes to crafting stories. This has been the case for many years, and will continue to be the case probably forever.

Challenger Deep felt like an exception to this at first, but since starting development on it my life took some turns that made it clear that CD suffers from the same and from different problems

To start with... I started using it as a vehicle for my grief at the start. Talas (especially) and Graves were both used as vehicles for my grief while I was going through stuff the past couple of years, and that inevitably bled through into The Everything.

It's not a bad thing to do this at all mind you (It helped me immensely) but it gave CD a strange foundation for me to build on that now I feel like I am at a major disconnect with, so I would like to build some more foundation around it, so to speak.

I would like to recraft the story (not rewrite it entirely because theres things i rly love, but theres others that I'd like to improve), and a lot of the lore (I feel like I closed my options a bit too much with some of it so I want to make it more expansive too. Part of why I wrote it the way it was was so I could invite friends to make stuff for CD but that did not go over well at all so I think I am going to not do that again). I just havent had the time to work on it properly, and since it's in this state where I feel like I need to "fix" it, I don't feel as passionate about it as last year so at the moment I'm letting it ride and waiting for when I'm excited to work on it again

I would like to add more characters as well and actually do justice writing-wise to the characters that are already in there too.

Also I won't lie, a big part of my investment in CD until recently was my oc ship, with Talas and Hades, and ever since I got into my current relationship I just havent thought much about them at all because I started pretty much actually living all of the shitposts and tropes I'd written and it started making me feel a bit strange to write/draw about that, so I need to fix that as well. See why I feel weird about it and what I can do to stop it and get back to those two

Additionally I've had a redesign of talas and hades' markings in my WIPs for months now. Hades is done, but on Talas' side Im not sure how to add in his bioluminescence pattern because something isnt working for me. I wanted him to be more visibly purble though with said markings. Everything else I really like, its just the glowy pattern (though watch me change the markings anyways bc im an indecesive beast)

Here's a snippet of them:

I wanted them both to have more natural fishy looking markings pretty much

So yeah, that's currently the state of things. I miss it a lot and i rly wanna work on it again proper, maybe now that I've acknowlegded it and made a post about it I will get a second wind like I've gotten before after getting The Gunk out of my chest.

If you read all that thank you I hope you have a swag day <3

[outeremissary]

2023 Wrapped!

This is my first ever time doing a year end art summary (using this template)- I always wanted to when I was younger, but never felt I was creating enough work or that it was "serious" enough or good looking enough to be worth compiling. It's been interesting to reflect on a year that included so many creative ups and downs (and life ups and downs in general). If you'll permit me I want to do the little reflection ramble too, even if it's an inadvisable 5 (or now 6) in the morning where I live.

Some of you who followed me on Twitter probably know that I only "learned to color"- or rather found a way that worked for me enough to finish things consistently- in 2022, and rather late in 2022 at that. This is pretty much the first year where work I considered "finished" or "polished" included things that weren't greyscale, and it's absolutely the first year where I had attempted to do something in color almost every single month. When I look at this and see the range of hues it has, I really feel an incredible sense of achievement. I would not have imagined 14 months ago that I could stitch something that looked like this together, and 12 months ago I can't say I'd have felt confident either.

Despite having a huge artistic slump in the back half of the year (along with a sharp downturn in my mental health in general) I was astounded to find that for the first six months I had so much work that I loved and was proud of that it was hard to put this together because I constantly felt like I was leaving favorites out- works that I thought were iconic or were huge milestones or I just really loved. That was unbelievable. And that was only sifting through the "nice" stuff- I didn't even consider a mountain of sketches and doodles that I adored! Even in my busiest months and the months I was recovering from a major medical procedure (I got top surgery!!!) I had something to show, and May being a WIP is less because there was nothing in that month than because Aurien and Vio were the only ones who were fitting in the damn frame (side note: I'd be more thoughtful with template than aesthetic if I ever did this again).

Even in the five months I was convinced I had done absolutely nothing, I found again and again that I had more than I thought for every month (except November, where it turned out everything I thought I'd done was early December. you've been spared DUrgetash). I was creating even when I was convinced that I was never going to be able to draw again. And I was creating enough that I got to be picky filling this thing out and choose Tristian for October just for a laugh when other options were out there, and enough that I had options when I was struggling to fit something I wanted into the template frame.

Side note: Miss Leonelle, you were tragically robbed by the damn frames.

In making this I also saw again and again the connections that I made throughout the year. I have had the incredible fortune to make wonderful friends this year and to build on bonds that I already had- even some where I perhaps didn't deserve the chances I was given. @mountainashfae is all over this summary- in April, May, June, August, and November- and I've often felt I spent as much time on Vio as Balthazar this year, but there were at least seven other baronesses, KCs, and other incredible OCs I had the privilege of drawing this year who I desperately wanted to fit onto this and was not able to for one reason or another. I'm so happy to know so many creative, passionate people and to be allowed so close to the things they hold so dear. To everyone who has shared their creations this year- not just with me, but with anyone on the internet or in real life or quietly in DMs or in a Discord or wherever- you're incredible, and I hope you're proud of what you've done. And if you struggle with that, I hope you can be proud of the way you're growing even now.

If you've stuck with me this far, thank you. Sincerely. I really appreciate that there are people who enjoy looking at my silly little drawings and reading my occasional rambles, even if I'm a little erratic on putting things up and usually a bit distant by choice from fan communities. And if you continue to stick around, I hope that you continue to have a good time.

I don't know what to expect from 2024 when I've got a laundry list of projects from 2023 I haven't finished, but I'm hopeful about what it'll contain. There's a lot I want to do- more full illustrations, working on other media, trying more ambitious projects- but for now it's enough to just think about picking up the things I've left off and continuing to tie up those loose ends.

Here's hoping we all can find something we want in 2024, as terrible and unknowable as the new chapter is.

[magebastard]

wip wursday

thank u @coldshrugs for tagging me im NERVOUS abt this 1

im soft writing an if that may stay unreleased forever bc i don’t know if i will have the willpower to consistently post updates but im done w a prologue and half of chapter 1 and it’s been a treat to write about the most romantic place on earth (a tiny beach town in new jersey) here is a scene that I had to email to myself months ago bc I couldn’t figure out how to configure it into actual code properly but this is the first major flirt scene with the ro im in love w the most currently can you tell I started writing this after re-watching the bear

tagging @mrs-theirin @lalizah @darkspawntaxcollectors @grapecaseschoices everyone truly please I need to read my pals beautiful writing

Huh. You think you'd be wise enough to know when hunger is the culprit behind your bad moods at this point in your adulthood. That cloying, constricting feeling in your gut roils in response to Jordan's good-natured accusation and your lips flatten into a smile of surrender. He snorts. You hop up to sit on the counter across from his work station.

Sticking around after close isn't too outrageous of an ask when he's the one offering to make you dinner.

Damn, but it smells good in here. You imagine it'll get old—the smell of diner food permeating the modest industrial kitchen. But now it's only making you too aware that your last meal was a stale cereal bar nearly nine hours ago. Minutes pass. Jordan bobs his head to the music playing from his phone, speakers echoing where it's propped up inside of a clear, Tupperware tub. You don't want to upset the calm of a man's kitchen closing ritual but it feels like you should say something.

"I'm sorry I snapped. I didn't mean to take my bad day out on you," you finally settle on.

His dark eyes flit to yours for barely a moment. It's not too much but it's a strange intimacy. The last two employees on a closing shift, practically basking in the quietened building. It'd be peaceful, if it weren't so bizarre.

You turn your attention to his hands. Quick and certain, he methodically prepares your omelette with an artful precision. Almost more bizarre than sharing this calm moment with your coworker, is the care he measures into each ingredient, delicately incorporated. The effort is so thoughtful, you try to swallow past the sudden tightness in your throat.

"It's all good. I've been here long enough to recognize that ‘I didn’t take a lunch break’ look on anyone," he finally responds. There's a feint, fond smile on his face and it's impossible to deny the warmth of his handsome features. You smile along.

"You know everyone here pretty well?" It's not a question you really need answered. It's obvious. The guy practically has his head on a swivel for the revolving door of coworkers coming in to update him on their personal lives, which he responds to in kind with questions or anecdotes of his own. If there's one thing you've gleaned from your first week back at the diner it's that Jordan is adored as both a friend and a pillar of the business. He's got a singular kind of reliability.

You don't realize you're still smiling until you catch him staring, his hands stalled over pan and fork.

[poupeesdecirque]

Posting by Queue, or: why I need some distance from my crafts

It has been some time since my last hobby meta blog entry, it had different reasons and one is that I need distance. Like, yes I of course enjoy crafting and sometimes I am like a little child that runs everywhere to show off things.

But it got ... less intense. And I learned I do better when I keep projects or at least details to myself to sit on them for longer. That the first euphoria is purely mine and not to be shared.

Like for my photos I have a buffer of several weeks now. Yes, I know past-me would have kind of hated that. But I learned I do better when I have a time buffer. I do take photos weekly but sometimes they don't feel special enough to get the weekly photo feature?

Friday & yesterday I went out for photos and while I like the ones from yesterday way more than the ones from friday I am not sure if the set from yesterday will get the feature or not as it's only a hand full of photos giving me that certain spark.

Other than that I am a very emotional artist, I sometimes really fuck up my art and hate it at the moment I worked on it, but then, sometimes, after a few days or weeks I can look at it and just wonder about what was my problem the day I made it.

Another thing is that I, myself, enjoy my art. The process of it. And I like to see my blog updating, sometimes I forget what post will go online and then I check the blog and think "ah yes, this was that thing!", and it reminds me why I made the blog overall, to show myself I had progress and that every tiny step counts.

Which leads to another reason why I hold back in regards of posting. Yes, I do share some snippets in my stories over on insta but not always and not all. I sit on over 300 drawings from the last two years alone nobody ever will see, I enjoyed drawing but it's nothing for the public eye. I will maybe go back and redraw some and share the redraws then, who knows?

But wait, there is actually more reasons.

The biggest or main reason is ... i sometimes go really wild on projects. In January I finished so many dolls it was insane, I worked on Cosplays and other crafts in an incredible speed, I have literally no idea where I found the time but I somehow did and doll parts arriving every week did the rest.

I keep the blog running with partially 2 month old stuff but .... to be honest I don't have doll stuff aside photos to do anymore. All I can do is wait for bodies to be shipped (or dolls even) and arrive. There has been no movement since January. Aside Iza getting the shipping notice for our Split, might take a while until its at her place and I can't really start on the Akuma until I got the body (which I at least have finally ordered this month) as colors need to be matched and mods to be made.

I am truly itchy to do something else than sewing all the time, I do enjoy cosplay but you know how much I like sewing (hint: not at all). So to remind myself of the fun I had in the past weeks I have mixed my blog to bless me with some progress I had which was maybe not sewing all the time. And well, the Cosplays have deadlines and I do get some ideas aside purely sewing while doing them, so that keeps me going for now.

Yes, I could start redoing dolls like Alastor or Erwin. But you know what? IT'S ALMOST ALL SEWING. Urgh.

Aside that real life is pretty good at eating me up and I just want to enjoy crafting. Right now drawing feels like stress relief but I hate the results and just scan the pieces and put them away to never look at them again, I have a bunch of posts queued up without any captions, a wip entry of a current project only has two photos but I lack the spoons to actually get them done. But since those posts are so far back it's fine (yes I know drafts are a thing).

In general I enjoy having my art to myself to get used to it before I put it out into the wild as I just recently got reminded I do bad with direct comparisons still and it hits some triggerpoints from the past and makes everything harder, I don't need that.

I literally have no idea if this blog makes sense even, lol. I just am tired of sewing and stopped working on my current project around lunch time and have drawn so much today and I walked way too much the whole week my friends urged me to stay the ef home and at least try to relax. But I'm restless as my body is too stressed (I know it all I'm a certified relaxation trainer so eh), so, have an over the place blog entry.

[sipsteainanxiety]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

i was tagged by @coopigeoncoo @andypantsx3 @willowser and @namodawrites to do this lil self fic rec game and after finally sitting down to think about it for a very... long... time... i have done it! thank you all for the tag i kiss you each on the forehead and give you a bowl of sliced fruit<3

after looking at all the wips i have in docs right now, i can definitely say that this list would be completely different if i had finished a few of them, but for now this is my ranked list for things i've published already lol

devil's glare — demon!bkg x reader

bakugou katsuki is a powerful demon that you have the pleasure of dating. but when he pisses you off one day, you decide to get back at him in a pretty petty way: drawing a salt circle around you to force him to apologize 

i had THEE most fun writing this one shot LMAO. it was based on a tiktok of all things that i'd found back when i was still on the app pfft. i just loved the idea of bkg being all surly and aggravated that his little human had purposely drawn a salt circle to prevent him from encroaching on their space. and like... him dealing with wanting to idk kiss you so bad but you're trying to teach him a lesson and he's sooooo mad and fuck, he's gonna do whatever he can to get you to comply to him lmao. if i could draw, there's this one scene where you're wearing this like. cute little set of pjs staring up at this big ass demon, wings unfurled threateningly, snarl on his face, arms crossed with a line of salt in between the two of you. like i have a vision. too bad i can't draw it LMFAOO. maybe one day

2. holding out (just for you) — dragon!bkg x reader

in which you find a horrendously injured dragon in a cave and make it your duty to heal him, not knowing that he’s the infamous dragonshifter, bakugo katsuki, who has been cursed to remain trapped in his dragon form forever—unless the spell is broken

this fic... oh boy. i've been working on this fic since mmm 2021 i think? i can't believe it's been a year since the big bang LMFAOO. i also can't blv this shit evolved from being a standalone to having 3 spinoffs and a sequel but well. here we are. complaints aside i really do have fun writing this fic!! i dunno!! i dont think i'd ever read a dragon bkg fic before and i was like fine i'll do it myself and this happened. i added way too much plot and you guys don't even know about half the worldbuilding and shit i have planned for the sequel HAHA. i can't even talk about it bc it would be major spoilers rn rhrsfjhrjfrjrhjg. it's also been giving me such a rough time lately pfft, especially with having to make sure everything lines up for the spinoffs n stuff. im so afraid of publishing ch4 and having to go back and tweak things bc i havent planned out far enough sdkjfsjkdf. i think it just means i'm gonna have to go on a hiatus or smthn and write out all the spinoffs + ch4 at once idk

3. and i give my all (to you) — merman!bkg x reader

you think you bit off more than you could chew when you decided to do your dissertation on ocean acidification, leaving you stranded out in the open ocean. alone. for months. well… maybe you weren’t so alone after all

this is another fic that i've been working on way longer than it's been posted for pfft. i can't blv the first chapter was released over a year ago LMAOOO i am so sorry. i do like this fic tho bc it's one of the easier ones to write and i go back to it sometimes between writing for dragon bkg lol. like i have the chapters all mapped out, all i have to do is sit down and write em. ch2's at abt 3k rn tho and i hit a spot where i'm like oof i dont wanna write these descriptions dfhdkfg it's just a silly goofy story with merbaku and dealing with some of the subtle intricacies of getting to know a mermaid. actually, fun fact, this originally started off as a fic for jotaro from jjba, back when i was in my jjba era. but then i went back to my bkg era and switched it over. i didn't even have to change much LMFAOO jotaro and bkg act the same sometimes. also!! this is the first fic where i'm like... drawing little doodles for each chapter!! and it's so nice but also i'm like damn wtf do i draw for the rest of these chapters.... i'll figure it out ig

4. loving all the parts of you — pro hero!bkg x reader

in which you learn to love all the prickly parts that make up bakugou katsuki

i.. don't think i've thought about this fic for a very, very long time. but i just scrolled thru the masterlist and stuff and i... really liked writing it (when i was focused on it anyways). it's one of my gentler fics tbh. it's more of a character study of bkg, exploring a different aspect of him in each chapter. tbh i need to go through and reread it and make edits so it can better match the writing style i have now, but i rly liked thinking abt what would make bkg tick as a pro and as a person. and tbh, with what i know now of the manga and anime i think i could go very deep with it pfft. also the banner i made for this fic is so cute LOL. it's not high on my priority list rn bc i have other things i wanna work on, but i do hope to return to it one day.

5. forget me not — pro hero!bkg x reader

When you first woke up, you found yourself in a white room, lights blinding you from all directions. A bit disoriented, you squinted and looked around, realizing you were chained to a chair, your arms locked behind you. In front of you was a poster of a man, muscles rippling throughout his body, a spiky mess of ash blond hair nestled on his head, and striking crimson eyes glaring right at you from behind a black mask. In the upper right corner was the name “DYNAMIGHT” in black and orange letters. As you observed the poster, the sound of a P.A. system suddenly rang into existence, the deep, hoarse voice of an unknown person echoing around you. “Your name is [Name] [Surname],” the voice said without emotion, “and you hate the man named Bakugou Katsuki.”

THIS FIC... THIS FCKIN FIC. i have so much i can say about this fic and i am so sorry for the oncoming ramble pfft. firstly, it's both my baby and my number one fucking enemy. like, holy shit i think it gave me the most paralyzing anxiety and bc of this it took me like 3-4 years to finish (apart from being generally busy of course). i started it literally while i was in high school n applying to college, so of course there are aspects of it that i look at now and i'm like mmm don't like that. not to mention there have been so many things that happened in the anime/manga that i wasn't able to add or delve deeper into!! like the war!! bkg's fcking trauma!! midoriya's quirks!! i was an anime only when i first started releasing chapters (and i still am), so i didnt know about the endeavor agency arc or anything so i defaulted to shit with best jeanist and idkidk.

if i could rewrite all of fmn, i think i would. or maybe not all, but a good chunk of it. like i'd condense the first few chapters probably. i also have a different grasp of bkg's characterization now compared to when i was younger lmao. putting bkg in that specific circumstance (iykyk, i wont spoil it) only happened bc of certain outside factors that forced him into that position. which was how i was able to justify it. but... idk. IDK!! this fic had so many things to it that i was not knowledgeable about so i winged a lot of things without doing proper research (i.e. hospitals, police investigations, general bureaucracy and whatnot) and i feel like this has caused certain plot holes that i am not able to detect, but like.... it's been so long already that i'm too lazy to fix it.

i just really wanted to write about having amnesia but... still having this muscle memory and ache of the person you were in love with. that you can fall in love with them all over again. but, jeez, i put the reader through so much that there's so much... trauma and brainwashing and just rhhrhjrkhrhgrkjg. she's a mess and a half!! and this makes it so difficult to read fmn bc she's so frustrating!! but! at the same time idk it was interesting exploring that kind of ptsd and recovery. i think at my core i love writing about truly heartwrenching topics and horror. i rmb i had the most fun writing about reader's nightmares or that one chapter where she was messing around with illusions. actually- one of the things i would change is the reader's fckin quirk and hero name LMAOOOOO what the fuck i made her so op i basically just smashed together dr strange's and wanda's powers for her pfft. i'd also tweak her personality a little, i think.

i digress. anyways. im in the process of editing all of fmn (just like. writing tweaks. changing the phrasing of certain sentences. adding more fluff to descriptions) and i can really see how much my style has evolved lol. like, i am the most happy and proud of the later chapters, where you can really feel certain emotions with bkg and reader. like... the beach scene, or the stakeout scene, or the party scene!! i think i would also add more substance to the investigation and how being a hero is like post-war. the antagonists as well!! there's just so much that could've been built on, but at the same time... i didn't want to go too deep into it bc i was writing an amnesia recovery story.

flaming aside, i am very glad i was able to pull those plot twists successfully LOL. i loved reading people's theories back when i was still updating it, seeing them question things and being like wait a minute... no way... it can't be... it was an era i will never forget pfft. but... because of that expectation i think i was very nervous to reveal specific things or even write the ending bc i didn't know if people would be satisfied lol. fmn was so complicated and for what sdfkjhs. fanfic shouldnt make you this anxious fr and yet there i was. i'm glad im done with it, but at the same time.. i do miss it.

tldr: fmn is the fic that i am the most proud of but also the most insecure LMFAOO. i do eventually want to get to the extra chapters from bkg's pov for it but... idk. i don't wanna even look at it right now sdhfskdfjsf

thank u all for coming to my ted talk B) i'm sorry if u've been tagged alr in this but here we go anyways!! no pressure tags: @earthtooz @call-me-ko @thecatduet422 @boo-kugo @theloveinc <3

[romaine2424]

Daily Blog June 27, 2023

Arg! I'd hoped to spend sometime planting the pretty flowers I bought yesterday but to my dismay I discovered an invasive weed was mixed in with my Shasta Daisies, which are just about to bloom. The kind of weed that attaches to your clothes and skin. Gloves came out and two hours later, I made a huge dent. Flowers tomorrow.

I had mentioned there were would be additional categories I'd throw into the mix and today I have one I've been anxious to get to. I'm going to call it Magical Elves. They are the people who help make fandom run. I mentioned @phoenixacid in an earlier post, who has been hosting @hd-fan-fair for ten years. This category will cover folks like her and that do even more...yes, even more...

What I'm reading:

On the Discord Drarry Fans Writers and Artists there is a channel for recs. I stole this one from there but then discovered I'd already read it. However, it was long enough ago that I don't remember all of the details. I think I read it when it first came out and before I hopped back into fandom in spring of 2021. The Ordeal of Being Known (146k) by @lou-isfake. I'm only on chapter 3 right now but I just love this Draco and his Oscar the Grouch house-slippers and his house-elf Timsy. The writing is so fresh and clever, I find myself smiling most of the time. Here's the summary, which I think gives you a flavor of the writing style I'm talking about:

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It's obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco's never been able to back down from a challenge... especially from Potter. Features fuzzy cartoon slippers, devious house elves, 90s music, and lots—LOTS—of memories. Ron is annoyingly hot, Hermione sees right through you, Harry is a powerful idiot, and Draco is a reclusive masochist that would buy an entire city if it would make a kid happy. (And Pansy is "5'2, I wanna dance with you, and I'm sophisticated fun.")

Go read The Ordeal of Being Known on AO3.

Hit the Keep Reading!!!!!

Magical Elves:

The first person I want to highlight in this category is actually someone I've met in person at HP Cons and we've stayed in touch over the years in real life. *hugs darlin* You've probably seen @sassy-cissa's name as an author or maybe an email asking you about a fic for a fest but I'm betting most of you have no idea how much she's done for fandom for more than a decade and half, especially for Drarry fandom.

Let me list the ways in how awesome she is:

Current modding responsibilities:

25 Days of Draco and Harry (started in 2009) What 2009 ? Oh my! And do you know she reads each and every story posted for the fest and comments, too! HD Mpreg Fest – (started in 2011 – I've been modding since 2018) HD Fan Fair/Career Fair – co-modding since 2019)

Previous modding responsibilities:

Co-mod for H/D Erised from 2014 to 2018 Moderated the H/D Prophet from about 2016 to 2021

See that last one H/D Prophet. Take a look at the link just for a moment. Every Drarry WIP that was updated that week was listed, fests' status, drabble prompts, etc...Every single week. The prophet soon closed down after a few more months due to lack of participation (fandom had moved away from LJ).

Communities owned and/or Maintain:

On LJ: Slythindor100 and HarryDraco Mpreg On Tumblr: H/D Mpreg and Slythindor100

In addition, why yes there is more, Sassy writes, too, and beautifully! Sassy-Cissa (on AO3). Over 109 stories, mostly Drarry, some Hermione/Severus and a few Harry/Ginny...but as she put it....(but they usually end up divorced or Ginny dies). *snicker*

And she's on FanLore! And she also betas for some of the best.

So I know this is long but I just want folks to be aware of those working in the background, making our experience here in fandom enjoyable and filled with lovely content. They truly are magical elves. Sassy doesn't post much on Tumblr or on Discord but she does pop-in now and then. Next time you see her name, you'll now know who she is.

Tumblr Tidbit:

Did you know that you can edit the text below the Keep Reading line on your post and it will make the changes to all reblogs of your post. Edit above and sorry the reblogs will show the original. This comes in handy if you're making a Masterlist of works or something else that has lots of links or needs to be updated frequently.

Happy Tuesday and Sorry this was so late. My ancient computer decided to crash multiple times. Rom

[caitylove]

Tell People About Your WIPs

Thank you @miabicicletta for tagging me in this! I guess I can discuss some of my WIPs....

In Progress and Currently Posting Updates:

For The Love of Cosmetics series: Frak Me Red: A character study on how cosmetics work at the end of the world...And the smut that happens because of it. Frak Me Red specifically covers a new lipstick Laura is given and a weekend away she is swept away on by Bill.

Not Posted Yet But Being Actively Written:

Symposium of the Stars: A Soulmate BSG Canon Remix. Er...This has been a huge project I've been working on for months and this story currently has over 65k words to it and is just a quarter done. I expect to finally have enough of the plot figured out and outlined out by next month to finally start posting.

Death Becomes Her: Trigger Warnings: Suicide Attempts... A TFOTHU fic where Madeline Usher has faced death over and over, sometimes intentionally... This fic is exceptionally hard for me to write so it is really slow to be written.

WIPs that I Need To Get Back To One Day:

Welcome to Hotel Azure: A Mass Effect fic where Shepard and Garrus get stuck in a love hotel. Abandoned it when I reached the smut part, because Turian smut is apparently the only smut that intimidates me.

Break All The Rules for You: A list of Rules that Sharon Raydor follows and what she would break for love. This is super short currently, I just haven't had time to work on it much-and I'm really bad at switching back and forth between fandoms for writing. Eventually I'll finish It.

Love Games: OKAY. This has literally been abandoned for 10 years since the old LJ days lol. Its a story of Pranks and Games that Brenda and Sharon pulled on each other, in an attempt to sort of sublimate their sexual tension. The few chapters that exist are on AO3, but don't read it, its pretty bad lol. I mostly intend to rewrite it one day now that my writing skills have vastly improved.

Tagging: @madamairlock @ofhouseusher @lavenderknivess @this-geek @oh-mydarling @mimine666 @holy-ships-x-red-lips and anyone else I missed and wants to do this. <3

[cabbojage]

Please tell me about hot time is currency in your wip.

Sooo I'll start with some exposition: the setting of my wip, CLOCKED OUT, is the city of Klairva, which floats in the middle of the sky like a minecraft skywars island. Legend says that Klairva, along with a handful of other known cities, was pulled from the crust of the Earth by the hands of gods—in Klairva's case, this god is known as the Clockmaker, who dictates the passage of time. However, the Clockmaker has been dead for centuries, and left in his wake are the Cardinals: strange "magicians" who are half-human, half-monster and can warp time to their liking. Klairva has since fallen into an aristocracy where the wealthy Cardinals rule with an iron fist—controlling the masses with their only advantage, time itself.

Now for the actual currency part...

Upon birth, every citizen is issued a pocket watch. This watch constantly ticks, moving counterclockwise from the 1 o'clock position toward 12 o'clock. The position of the clock hands depends on the time in the user's bank; for instance, someone with a wealthy amount of time (100+ years) will see the time of their pocket watch as 1 o'clock—the farthest it can be from 12. Someone with a poor amount of time (<1 year) might see their watch as reading 12:15 or 12:10. Watches that strike 12:00 (when all 3 hands meet at 12) essentially represent someone who has run out of time, or in other words, someone who is "clocked out."

(note that most watches don't start ticking until 12 years after birth. from then on, the child must find their own source of income or receive support (e.g. parents transferring their own time to their children) to prevent being clocked out. the watches, as godly magical artifacts, are indestructible, and will always reappear within someone's general vicinity if they have been lost/discarded. in addition, the exact value of time one has left is printed on the watch's clock face—counting down in year/month/day/hour/minute/second form.)

The watch, which serves as a "bank," is also the medium of transactions. With no physical currency, transaction and business in Klairva works similarly to credit/debit cards of the modern age—an amount is willed forth, the two watches make contact, and the exchange is done.

But wait, you might be wondering, if you're a multi-millionaire in this world, couldn't you technically achieve immortality and NEVER run out of time?

Well... no. The thing is, the amount reading on the watch doesn't represent how long until you die; it's how long until you clock out. People can still die from disease, violence, etc. despite having centuries left on the watch, just like perfectly healthy people can clock out if the watch strikes 12. So it's quite common for the desperate to hold people at gunpoint and demand a year or two. Most rich would rather hand over the time than get a bullet through the skull.

So what happens to those who clock out? Basically no one knows. They just disappear. Known as the timeless or the twelve-struck in urban legends, the general consensus is that the Cardinals whisk them off to eternal hell, a realm with no happiness and constant torture, a fate worse than death. But of course, the actual fate of the timeless will be uncovered by my lovely characters throughout the course of the story ;)

I think I covered pretty much everything sfkslfslfkwkfl that was a lot! Honestly I'm very scared as to how I'm going to explain all of this in the actual novel without info-dumping like hell, but fuck it I'm just gonna try my best and worry about editing it later LMAO. thank u for reading this far if you did <3

[vacantgodling]

🥸🧥 hello i am a humble stranger here for the secret wip knowledge... 📓

welcome to secret wip corner mysterious stranger 😎

so i literally have a whole doc of my rogue yeehan ideas when i’m not thinking about cage OR when i’m pretending that my custody battle au that i need to update doesn’t exist. so i will let loose one of my ideas from the aether: one of my i have a kink about cassidy’s voice fic idea.

hear me out like

cassidy’s voice is hot as shit and i’m a weak sad sad man and i feel like hanzo is the same and you can pry this from my cold dead hands.

i don’t have a name for it yet but it’s a “sales call center au” (ive worked at both a call center and have done my fair share of phone sales so more of this au hinges on my experience from phone sales lol) and basically cole gets hired by some company (overwatch ig) to sell services over the phone. his easy humor, smooth voice, and non pressuring vibes have led to numerous sales so someone (idk who yet) asks him to pursue the toughest nut to crack: hanzo’s company—shimada whatever. no one has been ever able to get past the gatekeeping front desk staff let alone talk to the ceo. so cole does some digging and manages to get the ceo’s (hanzo’s) personal number. he leaves a few messages which hanzo ignores, but cole isn’t one to leave this shit hanging. finally one day hanzo picks up and is all Will you Quit Calling. and cole is like okay one growl at me more daddy what—but he’s like sugar gimme a second of your time but hanzo hangs up on him.

now at the company i worked for (and any phone sales company) getting hung up on didn’t mean don’t pursue; in fact they said hey keep trying until you get a good convo and a formal no then push them out for a few months and come back (basically pester them to death you know businesses gotta business LMAO). the only exception is obviously dnc lists and whatnot. so cole keeps calling. and more and more he and hanzo start to actually talk. it’s pretty flirty from jump and their talks get longer and longer to the point that they don’t even talk about sales or any of that shit just about each other. cassidy “takes work home” a night or two on his personal cell (and they have phone sex cough). and then eventually hanzo’s like alright tell me about this product of yours so i don’t make your superiors think i’m wasting your time. cassidy does the full pitch, hanzo actually considers it because he’s built up so much rapport with cole and it WOULD be beneficial for the business… so he’s just like cole i will consider your proposal and partnering with your company on one condition… and cole’s just anything sugar name your price. SO hanzo’s like i do not do online payments. i will only provide you a check… in person. and i will only sign if you are physically in my office. CLEARLY he’s saying “cole i need you in my bed and i’m willing to make this fucking happen” and cole knows but obviously it’s a recorded line when he’s in the office so he’s like hon lemme put you on hold. goes to talk to his boss and reyes (ig who is his boss i haven’t thought much about the company structure yet) is like: boy, if you get the shimada’s to sign i will promote you the second you come back WITH bonuses. and cole explains how hanzo will only sign if he goes in person and reyes is like i’ll book the flight for tomorrow LMAO. so cole goes back to his phone to talk to hanzo and said can i count on you to pick me up at the airport? and he can hear hanzo smiling over the line and HUEHUEHUE

yeah anyway when he gets to hanzo’s city they see each other in person they’re so fucking horny, they go to hanzo’s penthouse and fuck nasty style and then the next day hanzo goes over all the terms, signs the check and huzzah business partners lol. they probably get married in the future too LMAO

is it ethical?? idc the fic is hot to me LOL. one day i’ll write it 🌚

[daffi-990]

Hi Daffi!!!

Tell me about your Fantasy AU!!!

Ahhh Fantasy AU .. my beloved .. that I really need to spend more time on 🥲

The summary for it is:

23 yr old Buck lives with his adoptive father, Bobby, in Los Angeles. One day his life is turned upside down when he’s attacked in the street by what he can only describe as a monster. He’s saved by an attractive stranger named Eddie, who apparently knows Bobby and claims they’re in danger.

He also claims Buck is a powerful mage from another world, and is prophesied to save it from an evil that has plagued it for the last 30 years.

I’ve written small bits and pieces of it, most of it spoilery haha

BUT!!

Your ask actually encouraged me to write the beginning of it! So here is something I whipped up this afternoon in the notes app of my phone ☺️

Buck has lived in LA his whole life and still isn’t used to how suffocating the city can feel. Most of the time he’s okay, happy to explore the city and partake of its nightlife now that he’s old enough to do so, but sometimes the city feels like a cage that he’s trapped in, far away from home. Which is ridiculous because LA is home. Except lately it doesn’t feel like it. The only place Buck is able to find some semblance of peace is out on the trails. When he’s out here away from the hustle and bustle of city life, he feels like he can breathe. The kind of breath that’s deep and expands your lungs to their full capacity. He feels alive out here among the tress, the soft sounds of nature a gentle melody that has the restlessness in his bones quieting down to a dull thrum. It’s why he tries to get out here as often as he can.

Bobby likes to come out here too, in fact the two of them used to come out here together every weekend and camp. They’d eat s’mores and gaze at the stars and spar with the swords Bobby owns. Buck still has no idea where he got them, but they’re the real deal. It took Buck a while to build up the strength to wield one, but once he did he adapted to its weight pretty quickly, favouring the heavy weapon over his foil and sabre.

Bobby had gotten him into fencing at a young age and Buck had instantly loved it. It was a positive outlet for him to work off his excess energy, plus it made him feel like Aragorn from Lord of the Rings. Along with fencing, Buck also learnt hand to hand combat through a mixed variety of martial arts, boxing and MMA being his favourite.

Bobby liked to test his skills on their camping trips, and despite being much older than Buck, the man could hold his own. It’s only been the last few years that Buck’s been able to beat him, and that’s probably because of the extra MMA lessons he’s been able to get with his staff discount at the gym.

Buck misses those weekends. They haven’t had one in a couple months now due to Buck’s new job. He has this weekend off though so maybe they can come out here again.

Buck checks his watch for the time. It’s almost 4pm which means he needs to start heading home to get ready for his shift at 6pm. He likes working the night shift at the gym, it’s usually pretty quiet with only the regulars coming in so Buck has a lot of free time to workout himself or just relax after he’s done all his usual jobs. Most of the time he just chills out behind the front desk and watches YouTube videos which almost always results in a YouTube spiral that sees him five videos deep into the subject of how to make your own cheese or something.

Thank you for the ask and the unintentional inspiration haha 😘

wip tag game list

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia x

How fast could you finish a fic, from start to to finish, if you didn't work on anything else and had so other commitments and just didn't start posting until it was done? It took me over two years to finish my long fic whilst I was writing and posting it chapter by chapter. Then I joined a creative writing course and we were challenged to start and complete a full story within a certain amount of time. I didn't post while I wrote this time round and I finished the entire thing within three months which is wild to think about. I've just started posting the fic I wrote now and don't have to worry about future updates. Do you think you could write a full fic or most of a fic before posting it or is it something that doesn't interest or work for you?

Hi hi anon

Do you think you could write a full fic or most of a fic before posting it or is it something that doesn't interest or work for you?

I mean yes, because this is literally the process of novel writing and I've published two. They're in my pinned post!

But I hated doing it this way.

I know I can write an entire work before doing anything with it because I've done it before. But I hate doing it that way and honestly anon, if I enjoyed doing it this way I would not be giving y'all free original serials, I would've taken all of that directly into novels and I'd have around 30-40 (if I included my fanfic in that, it'd be up to about 60-70) published by now and there's a high chance I'd be way more successful financially than I am now and actually like...able to afford all of my bills.

But working this way - writing ongoing serials - suits my ADHD, and I really enjoy doing it this specific way, so I do. The day I start enjoying writing full works more than ongoing serials I will disappear into novel writing because with a backlist of the kind I could generate with my wordcount, I'd be like...

I'd be living a very different life.

And I cannot tell you how much I've resented/hated that I don't enjoy writing full works before putting them up / publishing, because I know that's the biggest barrier in the way of more tangible success as an author for me (not just financially, but also among my peers who just value books more than web serials).

But yeah, did it, didn't enjoy it, and haven't done it again since. Now what's more likely is that I will spin novels out of already published serials.

How fast could you finish a fic, from start to to finish, if you didn't work on anything else and had so other commitments and just didn't start posting until it was done?

Honestly it takes me a lot longer if I'm not putting it up.

So I know from experience (From the Darkness We Rise) that I can write a full ongoing serial without focusing on anything else in about 3~ months. I mean if we look at my monthly wordcount average, I write around 35-50k per month, sometimes up to 90k if I'm excited enough about a project or have an unusual amount of energy.

Longer serials take longer because they're, well.........longer. x.x

But if I'm not putting it up at the same time, and it's a long original story, it will sometimes take me several years. Don't underestimate the brutality of needing to manufacture dopamine with ADHD. This job is ADHD compatible in a way that novel writing isn't for me.

(That being said, I still wrote Blackwood and The Gentle Wolf pretty fast because they're short, and I was writing serials alongside and the dopamine helped carry me through. But imho, it's still a longer process and it's a lot less enjoyable. And the publishing process takes me way longer and I enjoy that a lot less too).

(Just because I can do something doesn't mean I want to, or that it's sustainable).

(I was completing novels by the age of 12, tbh. Completing stuff isn't the issue and never has been for me (behold the field of my finished once-WIPs), but how I release that stuff determines how much I enjoy writing).

I've just started posting the fic I wrote now and don't have to worry about future updates.

I don't have to worry about future updates either!

That's the thing when you've completed every serial you've started (barring two, which were deliberate choices) in a 10 year period, to the tune of 5.5 million words, is that you just stop worrying about future updates.

This is something I really don't have to worry about with anything, because I know that I'll complete my stories. Having that kind of faith in my own writing is fun.

There's upsides to having a story finished before posting it online, but I will say there are some cons too:

You can't live in the moment in the same way as your readers. When you're all experiencing the excitement of an unplanned story together, that's a feeling that, imho, is not topped by any other publishing feeling to date. It's enthusiastic, absorbing and awesome.

You can't pivot based off reader feedback. I don't let most reader feedback influence plot, but every now and then I get a level of feedback that lets me know to focus more or less on something in a very organic way. Characters like Mikkel would only have appeared in one chapter if it weren't for readers. I cannot tell you how many times readers have helped me go 'oh this character needs to be in this story more.' From The Raven Prince to Kadek, reader enthusiasm took a bit-part player and drew them more into the story. Hell, even Dr Gary would not have gotten chapters to himself with Efnisien in Falling Falling Stars without that reader feedback. You just can't pivot at all unless you're willing to do rewrites, and that doesn't seem as much fun to me.

Writing one's self out of cul de sacs with the pressure of a deadline is actually a lot of fun for me.

You actually can still write a few chapters ahead (which I do for many stories these days) while still not having the story finished. I'm about 2-8 chapters ahead on almost all of my stories depending on the story itself. I may be close to 10 ahead on Underline the Black.

Others I'm forgetting about. But I know I wanted to say something about length, and also about deep characterisation. No one will prompt deeper characterisation exercises than readers who ask questions you will never think to ask as you write something in an ongoing way.

(All of this is obviously dependent on actually getting feedback if you post a serial chapter by chapter and write it on the go. I am very lucky to get this kind of feedback by the best readers. Serial writing isn't fun at all if no one is interacting).

I make the choices I make anon not because I can't write in other ways, but because I don't enjoy it, and because I genuinely feel like writing this way makes me a better writer. I like the stress and the pressure of the job, and I enjoy it.

I'm glad you've found something that works for you, and it does mean that like, if you write enough novels (if that's a direction you want to go in) you're likely to end up way more successful than I ever will! And that's a great place to be. *high fives*

[citrus-cactus]

Howdy, all! I can't post my art summary quite yet because it contains part of someone's Secret Santa gift, so I thought I would fill out the fic summary template created by @reliablejoukido (see her original post here!). Even though I didn't publish (or finish!) much, I did start writing again this year, and that feels like a huge accomplishment, so it seemed like it would be fun to look back and talk a little bit about what I have in the works.

First, the finished fic!

My er... grand return to writing (I wouldn't call it that, but I did have a lot of fun writing and drawing for it, even if it took 6+ months from start to finish ^^;). I love these three characters as a trio so much. It was really hard to pull out a quote I liked and have it make sense in context, so I put the summary in there... but since I brought it up in another post, I thought I'd share what one of my editing drafts looks like:

(ok, so maybe not the tiniest font imaginable, but sometimes there are cross-outs to the cross-outs and sometimes I DO run out of room near troublesome paragraphs and in the margins!)

Now, onto WIPs!

Hmm, well! That sure is a title, isn't it? ;) I wanted to write Junzumi and came up with this idea late last year, and finally started trying to figure it out. It's meant to be fun and flirty and a bit awkward, but the ultimate goal is to be kind to JP, because he (and his body) are given so little love overall. And even though JP and Zoe are not actually hooking up in this fic, it is meant to show the relationship between the two of them in college, and how they could start going from friendship to dating. There IS nudity, but it's meant to be tasteful and respectful, I promise!

Oof. I haven't forgotten this fic, I swear (even though I published Chapter 4 three years ago!). I got really excited to work on it earlier this year (flush with success from actually publishing something, rotfl!) and then let it continue to languish (orz). Upon reflection, the reason it's been stalled is I was having a hard time figuring out the flow of action, but after re-outlining it in September I think I know now what Maki needs to be doing in order to experience the emotions I always meant her to be feeling in this chapter. And yes, she and Meiko meet (yay!).

Chapter 6 has been done for YEARS, and Chapter 7's probably pretty close to done as well, so it really is just this chapter being the hold-up.

AKA, Garg Fic #1. Been mulling over ideas for fic for this fandom all summer, and finally decided to write one based on some minor characters from the SLG comics (that I didn't even read, and can't read now because they're out of print). But I AM reading the new Dark Ages comics, and I'm proving to be a really good guesser about certain details, so actually, I feel INCREDIBLY validated about my original vision and characterization, ahaha.

As you may be able to tell from the quote selection, this is not a happy story. But I believe it's a story worth telling. It's about preserving customs in the face of tragedy, and mourning, and extinction, and love.

AKA, the thing that pulled me away from writing Garg Fic #1. I was possessed. I was writing something in my head about Macbeth's relationship with Demona this summer, and suddenly (VERY suddenly) it morphed into this. Dang, but they're fun to think about. This fic is weird, it will contain one MAJOR narrative trope/cliche, and it's definitely going to be NSFW if I end up getting that far. But I reeeeeeally like this paragraph I wrote for it XD

Thanks for the template Zuz, and thanks to everyone else for letting me ramble about writing! See you again for the art roundup!

[a-pale-azure-moon]

WIP Wednesday

It's done.

There will be revisions and tweaks to make between now and when I post it in a few days, but I have finished the final chapter of Someday We'll Shine Together. At long last, it is complete.

I'm struggling to distill all of my emotions into words at the moment. This fic has been a part of my life for about three years now. I'm feeling accomplished and proud of myself for really and truly finishing it despite the fact that when I first had the idea, I was convinced this was another of those fleeting inspirational flashes that would never go anywhere and would forever languish in my WIP folder. I got very attached to this story in the process of creating it, and I got even more attached to it when it was one of the things that helped see me through a very difficult time in my personal life. As such, I'm also grieving that it's over and that I now must let it go. Sure, it'll always exist for me to revisit whenever I want, but that feeling is never the same as the one derived from actively working on it.

While I'm still digesting all of these emotions, here's a rough timeline and some background of the fic's development, so you can all see how I finally got to this point. This is pretty personal too, because the two are irrevocably intertwined. (Content warning: death/grief)

Summer 2020: Initial inspiration hits after I rewatched Utena during COVID lockdown.

Fall 2020: Brainworms are on-and-off active, writing short blurbs in a Google doc when they come to me, but there's no true shape to the whole plot yet, it’s just random scenes. It's more or less still strictly a 3H-esque retelling of Utena, and I'm not expecting anything to actually come of these blurbs.

Winter 2020: More blurbs trickle in here and there. The story in my head is starting to divert more drastically from the show.

February 19, 2021: Draft of the pivotal scene at the end of Chapter 15 written. I remember the specific day for this because I wrote it the same day we put down our dog, Clancy. (Writing emotional scenes often helps me process my own emotions.)

April 11, 2021: Creation of my dedicated author's notes file to keep track of the various threads and ideas I'd come up with, especially the backstory about Faerghus and how Dimitri became the Lion Prince. I filled it in like an extended summary or wikipedia entry about the 'verse and the overall plot of the story. I jotted a lot of stuff down between April and June as the brainworms really got to work again.

Summer 2021: I'm starting to entertain the idea of actually seeing this project through. Chapters 1 and 2 are drafted over the summer months, but I hit a block and the self doubt comes roaring right in to deter me.  A LARGE part of my struggle with getting this fic out of development hell was me being unable to get out of my own way.  Every stumbling block I hit (especially early on) was an invitation for my inner critic to resume browbeating me into giving up this “stupid” idea.

September 2021: I finally make up my mind that I'm really going to do this, and I spend the next six weeks ironing out the bumps in the plot and making a chapter-by-chapter outline highlighting the key scenes/plot points/character beats within each one. I organized the various blurbs I had into chronological order and put them under the correct chapter headings. I also started thinking of the best way to get myself to see this project through, as well as what would be a realistic timetable for its completion. I estimated that the final length of the whole thing would be around 350 pages or roughly 150K words. (This is hilarious to me in hindsight.  I severely underestimated the scope of this fic!)

November 2021: I try to do the NaNoWriMo challenge (50K words in a month) to draft as much of the fic as I can. I "only" produce about 35K words in the end, but it was enough to draft Chapters 3 and 4 and write at least one decent-sized blurb within each of all of the remaining chapters.

December 2021: I took a short hiatus from working on SWST to finish Beneath the Ethereal Moon. When that's done, I went over my outline yet again to refine it further and then cleaned up my draft of Chapter 1 with an eye on posting it after right after New Year's. I determined that posting (and writing) one chapter per month should be doable, especially since I have a generous buffer to start with.

January 2022: I get a bad case of cold feet/anxiety and don't post Chapter 1. I'm having trouble getting a feel for Chapter 5 and fail to finish it before the end of the month. (This naturally doesn't help alleviate my self-doubt or silence my very loud inner critic.)

February 2022: Cold feet strike again and I fail to post Chapter 1 a second time. I'm still stuck on Chapter 5 (though I've at least made some progress), and while I'm extremely aware that I'm being my own worst enemy, that doesn't make it any easier to beat back old habits.

March 2, 2022: In the wee hours of the night (it was after midnight), I finally posted Chapter 1 and went straight to bed after. I slept terribly of course, haha.

I wish I could say "and you know the rest from here," but that's not true. Posting Chapter 1 was a huge mental hurdle cleared, but there were other things going on behind the scenes that almost derailed this project for good. The timing was such that if I were more prone to hubris, I'd think that the universe itself was testing my resolve. Or possibly mocking me.

On March 3, 2022 (yes, the day after I posted Chapter 1), my father was admitted to the hospital with a debilitating pain in his lower back. Initially, we thought it might be a flare up of his sciatica or maybe something like a kidney stone, but the truth was far worse. What he had was a spinal epidural abscess caused by a bacterial infection in his blood. He was transported to the ICU of a larger (further away) hospital once the severity of his condition was discovered, and he was pumped full of massive doses of antibiotics. Thanks to that, he stabilized, but what followed after was a long period of uncertainty as he would start to make gains only to suffer a setback. Even once the infection and his pain level were under control, he'd been so severely sick that the bacteria had ravaged his various body systems, leading to issues with his kidneys and his heart.

For 91 days, my family and I were stuck on a wretched rollercoaster of getting hopeful (he was transferred to a rehab facility three different times when it looked like he was improving) and then having our hopes dashed when something would happen that would see him sent back to the hospital (falling out of bed, chest pains, difficulty breathing). Hope began to fade in mid May when he was transferred back to the ICU due to diastolic heart failure, which caused his lungs to fill up with fluid. They tapped his lungs thrice, removing at least a liter of fluid each time, but they kept filling up again despite all the diuretics the doctors were giving him. Then his kidneys began to shut down too. We kept hoping right until the end, but he passed away on June 1, 2022, the day before what would've been his and my mother's 49th wedding anniversary.

(Proof that real life can be even crueler than fiction.)

I was only able to continue updating SWST while my father was sick because of that buffer I'd had, and I very nearly deleted the story from AO3 altogether after he died. I remember ruminating about how futile it was to continue with this project; I'd written almost nothing while he was sick, so my buffer was now gone and I questioned whether or not I'd be able to write, let alone write consistently, with the promised months of grief and general upheaval ahead. Even writing a story that I had, to that point, been passionate about felt utterly pointless.

It was strange though. I woke up on June 2nd thinking that maybe I should go ahead and post chapter 4 anyway, since it was already done and it was one of the chapters I particularly liked. So I did. And in the following days, we had my father's funeral and a part of me felt like I could breathe again. I was grieving yes, but the constant daily stress and uncertainty from his illness was gone, and I think that freed my creative drive to start working again. I remember the first day I sat back down at my computer with the intention to write and how much better I felt in general after I got some words onto the screen.

It's hella ironic that I planned SWST with grief and loss as major themes and it turned out I'd be processing such things myself while writing most of it. I know my own grief affected the story, though it's impossible to say to what degree; I get a lot of catharsis in general from writing emotional scenes, so I tend to go hard on them regardless. It didn't change the plot or direction of the story at all, since that was already planned, but it's certainly safe to say that I channeled a lot of my own feelings into some of the most intense moments. The ending of Chapter 9 stands out in particular as something that felt like it was coming straight out of my own heart.

Even on the hard days when I was feeling too overwhelmed and/or the words just weren’t coming, this story gave me a reason to keep going.  Just keeping the goal in mind and reasserting my resolve to be consistent and see this project through to the end helped me cope.  It both kept me grounded and helped me process what I was going through and it gave me something to look forward to when I uploaded each chapter and anxiously waited to see what the readers would think.

I started this fic as a means of testing myself: testing my commitment to writing consistently, to finishing a long-term project, and to getting over at least some of the many, MANY mental hurdles that have held me back from writing for way too long.  I knew that this story would always be near and dear to me if I managed to finish it, but it became even more precious than I ever could’ve imagined back in 2020.  It hurts that I must say goodbye to it, but…it’s forever mine.  I can say with my whole chest that I MADE THIS THING and I’m so very proud of it! <3

[akirameta84]

idk when or if ill finish this and ive had a habit of sharing my unfinished wip fics lately so heres the sequel to the werewolf au oneshot i wrote (and that i also shared the first part of months before i finished and posted it to ao3 lol)

id say its a bit under halfway done? idk. it follows directly after the last oneshot and may be confusing without it. and its an unfinished fic so you wont be missing anything if you just wait for it to eventually be finished and published (even if it might be a year rip)

but yeah. this is the first half or so wip of "Howling Harassment" sequel to the kubosai werewolf oneshot "Lycanthropic Liasons"

has not been edited or proofread obviously cause its not even done

its 5.3k words, and warning for vomiting mentions. if you want to skip the mini scene where kusuo is sick (he doesnt puke in the scene but talks about having done so) ive bolded the start and end of it. you wont be missing any plot details with it, but this wip preview does end shortly after it with just a paragraph so if you plan to skip that scene you can just stop reading at the first bolded part and be fine

enjoy i guess

also my italics didnt copy over so :shrug: place them where you think they go

Kusuo had been enjoying a very nice nap, relaxing peacefully and soaking in some warm sunshine, when the feeling of something wet dripping onto him slowly roused him from his slumber.

He blearily opened one eye but then immediately snapped both open when he caught sight of the tan wolf, shockingly with a normal looking chin, leaning over him and drooling all over his face. Recoiling and lurching to his paws in the same beat, he stumbled a good few meters away from Nendou, standing tensely in the grass.

They were right outside the makeshift and, honestly, poorly constructed hideout of Kaidou and Aren’s, and Kusuo had thought that if he took a nap outside he could both enjoy the sun on his fur and separate himself from Nendou, since the idiot would likely be enthralled by Kaidou and Aren attempting to play card games with paws.

Apparently Kusuo had been very very wrong. He sat down hard into the dirt and reached a back leg to scratch painfully at his head, like it would help get all the saliva off of him even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Nendou had been staring at him the whole time until a deep bark from the hideout entrance sounded, calling his attention. Aren’s deep purple and very furry but scarred head stuck out from the door made of blankets and glared at Nendou, having heard Kusuo’s mental distress. Nendou whimpered but strutted over to the entrance and headed inside.

In regards to the werewolf telepathy, since they were unsure if Nendou could hear them, attempting verbal communication without the ability to speak words was necessary to try and talk to the idiot who had also found himself lycanthropic by unknown means. At least they knew where he was now and Kusuo could fix any problems his disappearance has started to cause.

Kusuo was slightly worried as well that, due to the fact that he was missing all of the last week, Nendou couldn’t turn back like Kaidou and Aren had at first. Kusuo had been able to teach them by just instructing them through how he usually activated his shape-shifting, and it had thankfully done the trick.

He was still hoping that Nendou could hear their trains of thought even if they were blocked from his. He’d shown no signs of it, but this was Nendou. He could be hearing everything and not give a single clue.

Either way, it was still absolutely bizarre to have someone (Or up to three someones) reading his mind for a change, even if the fact that he didn’t have to bother with proper communication as much was pleasant.

‘It’s still bizarre to me that you’ve heard all of our thoughts up to now from when you met us, Kusuo.’

Yeah. That was fair. Kusuo lifted his head and gazed at the darkening sky that was many shades of orange and pink as the sun gradually lowered into the horizon. It was rather pretty and almost soothing to stare at. It’d been decently bright and blue when he’d gone to sleep, so he’d gotten a good few hours in.

That was good. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep once he went back home and dealt with what would be waiting for him. There was no way his brother had already gone from England to Japan in under twelve hours, even if their mom calling about limiter issues was fairly serious, but he’d still get harassed via television video call from his brother and either wait in dread for his brother to fly over or just teleport himself and get it over with.

Both sucked.

‘I think you’re over reacting. Surely your brother didn’t literally create something that turns people into werewolves. That sounds impossible. To be fair, so does being born an esper, but still.’

‘…B-but how else did it get…created?’

Kaidou was very bad at hiding his excitement at the concept of a mad scientist making something like lycanthropy, even if he posed his question as.

And also how he wondered if Kusuo’s brother could make him into a vampire instead, because when he watched a movie series called- ‘Hey stop stop sto-’

Kusuo snorted but obliged and cut that train of thought off, standing up and padding over to the hideout entrance.

Regardless, the answer was very much no to Kaidou, there really was no other potential source, and yes to Aren. Kuusuke was most certainly behind this and Kusuo was either going to make him fix it or commit fratricide.

‘…Can you…m-maybe-’

‘If he makes a cure I’m not letting you stay like this, Kaidou.’

Kusuo arrived at the blanket covering and stepped inside right on cue to see Kaidou’s best attempt at a canine frown and puppy eyes…the latter of which was quite a lot more effective in a literal dog form than it normally was for the boy seated on a pillow in the very corner of the hideout, front paws splayed over a bunch of cards on the carpeted ground in front of him.

He looked away before the eyes could take effect. He was getting far too soft and was not about to consider willingly keeping one of his friends a goddamn werewolf when he could reverse it.

When. Not if. Kusuo kept making sure he left no room for doubt in his mind. That way it would be easier to kill Kuusuke if he failed to make a totally guaranteed cure.

Aren was padding back over to the light blue wolf, a sulking Nendou in tow, and though Kusuo’s thoughts had already spelled out for the two of them that he was about to go home and get the confrontation or whatever over with, he still had one more pressing issue to attempt to solve beforehand.

‘Nendou,’ He projected outwards, staring at him as if it would help get his message across, taking a few more steps on the frankly uncomfortably textured carpet.

To his slight shock, the tan wolf spun his head around so quickly he feared Nendou would break his neck (A familiar sight, Nendou did that far too much, even if it had less of an impact without the…mildly disturbing human face), tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched Kusuo expectantly.

Aren and Kaidou looked up, intrigued, their minds similarly surprised that Nendou could hear their minds just fine.

…Could he? There was a chance that had been Kusuo’s own inherent telepathy as it was hard to tell the two versions apart, unlike the ease at which he could separate the lycanthropic ability and his own shape-shifting.

If it was his own and the idiot couldn’t hear Kaidou or Aren that wasn’t that much of an issue. Kusuo was the one who needed to help him turn back, after all.

(Considering the fact that Nendou didn’t visibly react to any of Kusuo’s ambient thoughts about that, actually, Nendou was not connected to the werewolf telepathy. He can only hear projected thoughts from Kusuo’s. Kaidou seemed utterly fascinated by that, while Aren was just mildly annoyed at how it was so complicated. Kusuo was in agreement with his boyfriend, and not just because of that status).

Nendou’s head tilted after the good few moments of staring, and Kusuo realized he should probably elaborate on why he got his attention before he was licked or pounced on again.

‘Do you want me to show you how to turn back tomorrow?’

He almost offered to do it right now but remembered, bitterly, that they were all stuck like this for a good while longer thanks to the moon cycle.

To his surprise, Nendou responded by shaking his head no, slobber flailing from his tongue as he did so. He heard Kaidou yelp as a drop landing in his eye, according to his thoughts.

That was…not the expected or desired answer at all. Kusuo wished he could just ask why straight up, but he would just go through the options instead.

Aren had sat down facing the two of them, even though Nendou was still turned away from Kusuo and looking back with his head, face far too amused to be anything but smug.

‘I bet he’s going to already know how to-’

‘You’re jumping ahead in the narrative, shut up.’

‘…I’m what?’

Kusuo firmly decided to ignore him. Kaidou could probably use some help putting all the playing cards away, he not so subtly thought of but didn’t directly project as he looked over and saw the small wolf in question pushing around the cards with his paws to try and get them all in a small stack again.

Aren just rolled his eyes but turned away to assist, and Kusuo gave his attention back to the ever still and rapt Nendou.

Seriously, he kind of wished that Nendou had lost interest in their one-sided conversation during the decently sized breaks in it. That would be less creepy.

‘Are you saying no because you already know how?’ He asked next, using purely his own deductive reasoning and nothing else.

‘You are really something special, babe.’

Kusuo shifted in place, annoyed, as Nendou nodded. There was no bothering with asking why the fuck he had stayed like this a week when there wouldn’t be a reply. He just huffed out a breath of air and asked one last question.

‘Will you please turn back and be human again by tomorrow?’

Nendou unflinchingly nodded at the downright angry tone of Kusuo’s, finally spinning around fulling and raising a front paw up, curling it and uncurling it awkwardly.

Was that supposed to be a thumbs up? Probably. He could only guess that it was because the idiot tended to give so many of those normally.

Kusuo nodded to himself and walked away, putting as much space between him and Nendou as he could in the small hideout, ending up next to the other two slightly less idiotic wolves.

‘Slightly!? It’s more than just slightly!’

Aren just chortled.

‘Do you want help getting home before I go, Kaidou? I can teleport you and then make your family perceive you as human if they happen to see you before you’re able to change back. And, of course, make your disappearance today nonexistent.’

There was a worrying hesitation before Kaidou replied, his snout twisting awkwardly as if he were trying to bite at his lip, and he paused in gently nudging a few cards to the side and merging them with the growing stack. Kusuo used his telekinesis to grab them all and order them neatly into a stack, floating them straight into the box.

Kaidou blinked at him, startled but grateful, but refocused his mind quickly.

‘A-actually I want to. Uh…t-tell them. I don’t want to hide it forever and it would just be…easier. To tell them.’

Huh. Kusuo had heard Kaidou’s mind dance on that possibility, but it had been thought about so little that he hadn’t expected the boy to actually decide on that course of action in the end.

‘…I hope it goes well, then. Do you still want help getting home right now or will you wait?’

‘I’ll w-wait with Aren. Get some nerves out. And go home when we’re back.’

‘Very well.’

Kaidou and Aren had taken to keeping spare clothes in the hideout, so that plan would work just fine for them. Kusuo had no need, he could just teleport freely around those two since his secret wasn’t secret between them. And, in all honesty…it felt nice to have have a friend closer than Aiura or Toritsuka know, as well as someone even closer but not family.

But for now he also was definitely not telling any other friends. Not until he was ready to actually do it on his own terms for once.

Kusuo turned around and walked towards the exit of the hideout despite not needing to in order to head home, but it somehow felt more polite to leave this way and then teleport.

‘I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.’

Kaidou and Aren seemed baffled that he’d said farewell which was rather fair since he never gave those or said hello much at all, but responded in kind themselves.

Before he could make it all the way out, though, footsteps sprinted towards him, and he didn’t have much time to react before Aren shoved his face against Kusuo’s, rubbing them together like he was a cat instead of a wolf.

Aren’s expression was far too innocent afterwards as he drew back and somehow grinned, and Kusuo rolled his eyes and turned away, keeping his body but most importantly his stupid tail with a mind of its own still as warmth bloomed in his chest, grateful his face couldn’t flush like this.

He continued walking moments after, only not doing something to be polite and reciprocate because he needed to leave and not because the prospect of doing so like this was embarrassing.

He briefly wanted to strangle Aren when he heard his mental chuckle at his denial.

As soon as he had fully crossed through the blanketed doorway, tail and all, Kusuo gathered his energy and teleported to his bedroom, a location so familiar he didn’t even need to conjure the image in his head to travel to it.

And, as soon as all four of his legs landed on his bedroom floor, his television turned on and his brother’s ugly face filled the screen, telepathy canceler adorning his long blonde hair, some of it covering his left eye and the rest of it in a ponytail, despite Kusuo being nowhere close enough to read his mind. He bared his teeth at the image and intentionally raised his hackles.

It took less than a second of being home for his brother to make an entrance.

Fifty six milliseconds, to be precise.

Kuusuke sniffled, feigning sadness as his tinny voice sounded through the speakers, “I can’t believe my own baby brother is so angry at me paying him a pseudo visit. How upsetting, after mom called me so worried about you and everything…”

Kusuo just sat on his floor and glared at the television, making eye contact not with Kuusuke’s image, but with the camera perched very visibly on top of the television.

His brother knew he’d be slaughtered if he had cameras permanently installed in Kusuo’s or their parent’s bedrooms. But he’d been barely spared when he added one to his TV that only activated when he was video calling, and the living and dining rooms got actual full-time cameras.

“Hmph, no response? Not even a rude comment?” His brother paused purposefully and smugly, “Oh, wait, you can’t respond! Without your telepathy, since even with my lovely canceler I’m still far out of range, you can’t speak like that.”

A teasing glint entered his brother’s visible eye as Kusuo continued to glare, unimpressed, “Or can you? Come on, can you speak, Kusuo? Speak? Like a good dog?”

He had to put physical effort into swallowing his growl, because that would have almost given Kuusuke exactly what he wanted. His bedroom sat in silence as they had an impromptu, or really, with his brother, expected competition to see who’s resolve gave first.

Kuusuke didn’t bother to try very hard, giving up with a shrug quickly because as much as he liked to make fun of his brother and attempt to win at every little thing, proper competition or not, they shared the same trait of impatience.

Kusuo’s patience was better overall, though. It had to be, growing up with his powers and all.

“I will say, it is a lot harder to decipher what you want to say like this. I’ve mastered your blank human expression, obviously, but I am very much not a canine person. Maybe I should have made werecats instead…”

Kusuo didn’t even bother to hide his growl that time, narrowing his eyes and translating his words clearly enough that his brother was easily able to garner the meaning when given more information than an empty glare.

“Oh? Am I responsible for you and your friend’s predicament? Obviously. To be completely truthful, though, you were never supposed to find out, and you were especially not supposed get infected yourself.”

Kusuo tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes narrowed to hopefully keep his skepticism clear.

His brother laughed at first, “Aw, you look adorable like that. It barely looks like you’re angry,” Kusuo snapped his head back up instantly, “But no, I am not lying. That’s why I kidnapped and gave the virus to your brainless friend initially, so you wouldn’t hear any thoughts about it.”

Kuusuke paused to wave a hand dismissively at the question Kusuo didn’t even try to ask, anticipating the obvious.

“I never left London and your friend never left Japan, either. I had robots kidnap and inject him with the serum I had mailed to a private lab I own in the area beforehand. It was easier and I had no risk of getting infected myself. What I failed to realize is that your little pet idiot could break out of a room made of solid steel walls and take off the tracking collar in the process.”

The screen briefly flickered to an image of, presumably, the room Nendou had been held in. There was a large hole in one of the gray, metal walls, opening straight into the outside, and the image barely lasted a few seconds before his brother was back in view.

Ah. Kusuo didn’t think that was possible either, but this was Nendou they were talking about, who has done countless other inhuman feats like his stunt in the school marathon. If Kusuo didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nendou also had psychic abilities.

“Anyways, I’m sure you’re wanting my help with this…issue of yours?” Kuusuke questioned, not leaving room for Kusuo to respond before continuing.

Not that Kusuo would have replied anyways, but the implications were still rude.

“Why don’t you teleport over here right away and let me have a look? I have to admit, much to my shame… I have no way of making a cure without seeing the biological structure of the transformed state first. Otherwise I might be reverting things that are actually a part of your human body.”

That was the biggest pile of bullshit Kusuo had ever heard, and his eye roll only conveyed a tiny fraction of how pissed he was.

“Ah, you’re too smart for that, huh, Kusuo? Yeah, I actually don’t know if I can revert the lycanthropy at all, haha! I never planned to in the first place.”

…Sometimes, the truth hurt significantly more than the lie he had tried to get fed. Kusuo sighed, quite displeased, and stood with a stretch, walking right past his television and heading for the door of his bedroom, which he swung open telekinetically.

He couldn’t see his brother anymore, but he could, unfortunately, still hear him, “Cold shoulder, huh? I never said I wouldn’t try, Kusuo,” He paused mid-step, body halfway out of the door, “Teleport over tomorrow before school, since I really don’t think you’ll get anywhere near me transformed and you’re stuck like this until around six in the morning tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can think of. I won’t keep you anymore, mom’s about to call you down for dinner. Goodbye!”

Kusuo heard his television forcefully shut off with a faint click at the same time his mom’s thoughts grew in volume as they targeted him with ‘Ku-chan, dinner’s ready!’

He’d known dinner was ready. That was why he’d teleported home at this time and had started leaving the conversation when he had. Hmph. Maybe it was a little bit of intentional cold shoulder, sure, but it was mostly dinner.

Or at least that was what he’d tell his mom if Kuusuke whined to her about Kusuo being mean, because he was just being mean for the fun of it. It wasn’t like his brother didn’t deserve it. Sure, he said he was going to genuinely try and fix the whole stupid werewolf thing, but it was his fault in the first place so the effort overall amounted to nothing.

…Did Kuusuke say six in the morning? That probably meant the initial shift had been at six this morning, which added up. That was utterly ridiculous. It was from sunrise to sunrise on the day and night with the fullest moon. How irritating. Kusuo was very good at tuning out Kaidou and Aren’s train of dialogue at this point, helped by his seventeen years of experience tuning out telepathy in general, so much so that he could even forget about them, but their exclamations of horror at that time-frame brought them back into the forefront for a moment.

They’re going to be waiting in that hideout much longer than anticipated… Kusuo sent them a brief condolence. He sent himself a reminder to set an alarm for tomorrow morning so he could shift back promptly.

Abruptly done, Kusuo turned back into his room instead of stepping all the way out, finding and grabbing his dinner telekinetically and bringing it straight to himself, ignoring the silverware for obvious reasons. Upon seeing his plate float away from his table, his mom’s thoughts became rather worried, but he reassured her that he was fine, just still. Having issues.

“…And I’ll be going to see Kuusuke early tomorrow,” He tacked on as well, rolling his eyes at how that statement fully calmed her down in the end.

Setting the plate down on his desk, Kusuo did his best to hop onto his desk chair, grumbling as he landed and the chair teetered precariously before balancing. Doing that was much easier as a cat, considering he weighed around ten pounds as one compared to now in which he was probably a good bit over a hundred.

Mildly annoyed, he huffed again tonight, and started eating (And being a bit disheartened at how dull the normally delicious tonkatsu tasted. He didn’t have anywhere near as many taste buds as a human did, so it was like the flavor was distant and sad), debating on if even trying to sleep when he felt wild awake and irritated was even worth it.

Well, even just lying restfully in his bed would be nice, and Kusuo decided listlessly relaxing was how he’d spend the rest of the night. School tomorrow would probably be a pain after having to deal with his brother, and a mental break would be necessary.

If only he had his germanium ring to truly relax in silence, properly removing both forms of telepathy. As much as he was fond of his nuisances, it was socially draining to always be either in a conversation or hearing one, as the werewolf telepathy was louder than his.

‘Are you telling us to shut up?’

‘Of course not. I’m complaining to myself, not you.’

‘…Right.’

Back on track, even if he could wear a ring on paws, it was no longer functional. The initial transformation had taken his ring with it, just like his clothes, and it’d been warped and broken beyond repair due to Kusuo’s innate strength. If it hadn’t, he likely would’ve tied it to a string and placed it on his neck.

As it stood, it was one wrong tap from Kusuo away from shattering, which wasn’t good when one weak tap from Kusuo could kill a person.

At least in the fading hours of daylight as dusk transitioned to night, people were settling down; and while most people weren’t going to sleep, they were going from a busy day to a mellow night routine, and their minds quieted as a result.

Finishing his meal and barely stopping himself from zoning out and letting his brain decide to lick the rest of the plate clean, he squinted at the empty dish and activated his clairvoyance to see if he had any coffee jelly of equal value in the fridge.

Fantastically, he did. Thank god his parents didn’t splurge on fancy dishes and silverware. This cheap ceramic plate had the same value of a slightly high in value convenience store coffee jelly, and so he apported the two of them, not caring at all that his empty plate was now in the refrigerator.

Kusuo could put it up later, before his parents noticed. Probably.

The lack of hands was making Kusuo actually appreciative of the full scale of his ESP for once, as ripping the seal off of the cup of jelly was as simple as a flex of his mind.

His tail thumped against the side of chair from where it dangled downwards as he shoved his snout straight into the cup. The taste may be watered down and nowhere close to how divine it was normally, but there was still enough of it present for him to enjoy it blissfully.

When he finished it and licked the entire inside completely clean he apported the empty cup for a significantly cheaper but still good brand of coffee jelly, since eating the contents regrettably lowered the value.

He deserved two for this whole ordeal. Maybe three…

…Perhaps not three, actually, since it wouldn’t do if he ate too much coffee jelly while being unable to truly enjoy its delectable flavor…yeah, two would suffice. That reason was why he had avoided his favorite treat even when dealing with being miserable and shape-shifted against his will, but a whole day stuck as a dog warranted it.

----

Kusuo should not have eaten any coffee jelly.

His head and stomach burned fiercely but, at the very least, he heard little to no mental voices due to it being the middle of the night. Even Kaidou and Aren were fast asleep, evidently, since there was no trace of them in his mind. So he did get the reprieve of his headache was significantly less than it could have been in this moment.

His mom rubbed his back (Basically petting him but the comfort was something he would have gotten the exact same way in a human form, so whatever), kneeling down on the floor to be next to him as he sat on the same, chilly, bathroom tile, right in front of the toilet.

Caffeine was toxic to canines, as well as most other animals. Technically it was still toxic to humans but that was irrelevant due to humans having the constitution for it.

Wolves did not have the constitution for it. It made them very ill instead.

Yes, he’d known that, but he’s eaten coffee jelly in his cat form with no repercussions despite his biology being just as altered as it was now…but, on retrospect, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever spent the next few hours after those moments remaining in a cat form and letting that body start to digest it, instead turning back before that could happen.

His mom’s mind was frantic with distress which was fair considering she’d found her normally invulnerable son still transformed and heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet in the middle of the night after waking up from the noise of him teleporting and landing loudly into the bathtub at first because he’d been disoriented and nauseous, but she’d refused to let her mind come up with and ask questions until she was sure Kusuo was going to be alright.

She was a godsend, and so he decided to explain of his own free will so she wouldn’t start crying, which she was far too close to for comfort, flicking his gaze to the side so that it met hers.

“I’m okay. Or getting there. Dogs can’t have coffee or they get sick. I ate two cups of coffee jelly after dinner…I think I forgot to take the plate I apported into the fridge back out as well. Sorry.”

“Kusuo…” The use of his actual name was usually a bad sign, but now it was more out of exasperation and worry than anything of the scolding variety, “Can you still not turn back?”

He just shook his head, not wanting to explain that he wouldn’t be able to until a time frame that was far too specific for what he was still pretending was a power malfunction.

Kurumi just hummed sadly at that, continuing to stroke his back even as his scooted a bit away from the toilet. His stomach was still rolling queasily, but Kusuo was fairly sure that his body was done being absolutely disgusting.

He almost shuddered remembering how it had felt. He was beyond glad his ESP made him neigh immune to disease, because vomiting was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever experienced so far in life.

As he continued to pull himself back together, staring blearily at the white bathroom floor tiles, his mom asked him another question, “Would medicine help?”

“Even if it did, given my powers, I can’t take it like this. Human medication is a very big no-no for animals,” He sighed mentally and slowly raised himself off the ground, taking shaky steps past his mom and towards the open bathroom door. It was dark in the house, and so the hallway outside looked pitch in contrast to the illuminated bathroom, even with his ability to see in the dark.

The bathroom was, fortunately, rather close to his bedroom, so he decided against teleporting and padded slowly back to his room, pausing as his mom rushed ahead to open the door for him, leaving the bathroom light on in the process.

That was sweet of her, even if he probably could have used his telekinesis fine. He sent a quiet thanks to her and closed the gap to his bed agonizingly slowly, as his stomach lurched ominously whenever he tried to speed up more than a tiny bit.

Kusuo had actually managed to drift asleep briefly before this incident, lulled sufficiently by soft mental voices as he laid on his bed, and now he was even sleepier feeling. It seemed like getting sick had actually assisted in granting him some much needed rest.

He didn’t bother to shut his bedroom door, nosing under the covers of his bed until he was completely buried and comfortable, wondering faintly where his mom had gone when he heard her footsteps go downstairs, but overall not that concerned about it.

It was only when he had nearly fallen asleep again that his heightened hearing noticed her approaching his bed, and she called for him as she approached the lump of covers he’d become, “Ku-chan?”

He stuck his head out from under his blankets, the rest of his body curled up tightly behind him, looking curiously at his mom as she held a bowl full of water out at him, setting it down on his end table once she’d confirmed that he knew of its presence.

“If you feel up to it, you should make sure to drink some water, okay? Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated, since you just threw up,” She reached a hand down and stroked his head gently, and Kusuo nodded both to signify that he heard her and to dislodge it politely.

He knew that. He just hadn’t felt like getting himself water when he would have survived the night regardless. But, now that it had been brought to him, he crawled up on his bed until he could stick his muzzle into the bowl and drink as his mom turned to leave, wishing him a good rest of the night that he almost forgot to return.

Drinking from a bowl like this was mildly demeaning, but it was significantly less of a hassle than using telekinesis to drink from a cup was. So, since he was feeling very icky and wanted to exert as little energy as possible right now, he decided he didn’t care, tucking his head right back under his blanket once he’d had enough to satiate his thirst.

----

Waking up to an alarm at six in the morning when he didn’t have to be at school until closer to nine would usually be a miserable experience, but for once, Kusuo was downright filled with joy when he remembered why he was startled out of a deep sleep so early.

[preromantics]

wip clearing 2: peter/tony post-nwh stripper!peter

continuing my 'this one isn't going to get written' clearing!

context: this really couldn't be done justice at less than like 20k words the way i had it outlined and i didn't have the attention span for that

under the cut: a mismash 1.4k of plot dump and a few more fleshed out bits. not really fic-like but dumping here anyway for the jist!

Peter needs easy cash and all the under the table jobs he’s been getting aren’t cutting it (pizza delivery, irregular odd jobs like helping people move) and he stumbles into being a stripper at a slighty-above-seedy club – the kind that pays him under the table because he just  keeps what he gets during dances but the kind that also has a pretty good bouncer out front, so the clientele isn’t the worst. 

Turns out everything the bite enhanced wasn’t just good for being a friendly neighborhood superhero: it makes him a pretty amazing stripper. He picks up the pole work like he did swinging from buildings; a little practice, a few face plants and awkward moments, and then it’s as easy as anything else. 

Just like in this new version of his life where no one knows him, he’s anonymous at the club. Just like Spider-Man, he also tends to attract a crowd.

(“Do a flip!” someone shouts one night, with Peter at the top of the pole, arched back and hanging on by one hand, every muscle taught and the lines of his body on display. And Peter smiles, beatific, and flips backwards off the pole, two rotations in the air before he’s landing at the edge of the stage. It’s a record night, his tight lamé briefs stuffed with cash sticking to his sweat-slick hips and the curve of his ass.)

It becomes easy. Patrolling in the early evening and sometimes after his shifts, glitter and smoke under his suit but the adrenaline of a good night keeping him awake and alert. The water-stained drop ceiling above Peter’s closet in his shitty apartment ends up stuffed with cash in ziploc bags.

It’s still easy, even, when the news breaks that Mr. Stark is back. The details aren’t public knowledge, and Peter longs to know how it happens, but what matters is something is now right in the world again – even if no one knows Peter, still, he feels lighter after hearing the news. 

He doesn’t seek out Mr. Stark, assuming he also has no recollection of Peter Parker, and if Peter keeps an eye out for a glint of red and gold while he’s patrolling, it’s just to see if Mr. Stark at least remembers Spider-Man. (He never sees the suit, so it doesn’t matter. In fact, even with Mr. Stark back, there are no reports on Iron Man at all anymore.)

Peter has settled into his new normal, over a year into his stripper gig, and now on stage at a much nicer, fancier club (that still agreed to keep him off payroll if he gave a bigger cut to the house). It’s a few months since Tony Stark rejoined the living, Peter’s passed his GED but hasn’t sent in any applications, the cash he’s been saving up growing each week and starting to weigh on him.

It’s early in the night, and no one notices when Peter slips into the dressing room ten minutes late to his shift. This club is less likely to hand waive lateness, Peter knows – a condition of his under the table employment here was showing up when scheduled and a bigger cut of tips to the house than the other dancers. 

The clientele, location, the drinks – basically everything is better than the first place Peter started stripping at last year, though, so the extra percentage at the end of the night and ability to hand waive the background check that would flag Peter as a ghost make it worth it. He’s really trying to not be late, to cut his pre-shift patrols off earlier so he doesn’t jeopardize his quote-un-quote employment. 

Some nights, though, the city just seems to want to hold on to Spider-Man from block to block.

Peter has his face close to the mirror, working with some green and yellow color correctors the way one of the girls at the old club taught him to hide the bruise blossoming on his lower jaw. By the end of the night it will be barely visible, anyway, between his healing factor and the way the club gets darker and the clientele gets tipsier, looking at Peter with glassy eyes. 

He’s almost done buffing everything out with concealer over the top and already reaching for a pot of subtle glitter from his backpack when one of the new girls (Amber, maybe? Peter keeps meaning to get better at the social part of this new place) bursts into the room with a high-pitched squeal.

“Tony Stark is here!” she says, her eyes wide. Peter meets them through the mirror, hands stilling. “Like, actually him. I saw him putting a black lacy mask on at the door.”

Peter’s first thought is that he should leave. He should definitely leave, fake a stomach bug or something. There are six of them in the small dressing room, all in various states of getting ready for the night ahead, but every person stops what they’re doing, and the room becomes so loud all at once that Peter stays frozen, now staring down his own reflection. 

It’s been three months since the PR whirlstorm that surrounded Mr. Stark’s resurrection. 

He’s with Rhody. Peter waivers on if he’ll cut out or stay. He ends up staying. It’s masquerade night. They hand out fancy masks at the door and the dancers have masks, so it feels a little more comfortable than it should, hiding behind a mask. He doesn’t think Tony knows who he is, anyway, since no one remembers Peter Parker – why would Mr. Stark be any different. He ends up doing a back room with a nice co-worker named Amber. It’s all above board at this club (for the most part) and the back rooms have their own pole, good lighting, and luxurious leather couches. “They requested a guy and a girl, and you’re our best guy, c’mon, Pete,” Amber says, with wide eyes that absolutely work. Peter suddenly understands why Amber gets the most private rooms. Peter loses himself to the backroom, to the touches, the music, seeing the crinkled eyes of his mentor up close again for the first time in years. 

Are you going to tell me why you’re working in a strip club yet, Peter Parker? Tony whispers at the end of the dance.

Peter bolts.

When he thinks about it, he’s not even sure anything about his life will change, at this point, if one person (Tonytonytony his brain says) remembers who he is – and after a (scheduled) day off it’s time for another shift. He’s wavering on showing up for his next shift, or risk losing his job (that he likes, thank you) but ultimately shows up.

Tony is there waiting – had he come the day before, too? Asked about Peter? Sat around just watching, waiting? Had he asked someone else for a dance? – and Peter bravely faces him.

They end up in a room, again, this time with the awareness that they know each other. 

“I honestly have no idea where to start, Mr. Stark.”

Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “I did pay for a private dance, so you could start with that as the warm up to the big reveal,” he says, and Peter feels his mouth part in shock. 

The timing is perfect: the queued up song starts before Peter can say anything, a bass-heavy track with no lyrics, and Peter does an instinctive spin on the pole while trying to sort out the mess in his head. 

“I was kidding,” Tony says, with a small amount of panic in his eyes. 

Peter stops his next spin, staggering against the pole. Right. That would make so much more sense. “Oh,” he says, dumbly. 

(They talk on the couch. Peter ends up spilling everything about what has happened. Tony grips him tight, petting the back of his hair in what Peter assumes is only meant to be comforting, but in a way that makes Peter too aware of the fact he’s wearing a thong and covered in glitter that’s now coating Tony’s immaculately tailored suit, too aware of how comforting this is anyway, how warm Tony is. He’s crying, and his hair is a little wet, so he thinks Tony might be, too.)

After a lot of miscommunication, the reestablishment of Peter Parker's identity, sans the public unmasking, and a professional amount of distance…

Peter kind of misses stripping. Not the money (which was good, but his reinstated trust fund from Tony's non-applicable will is better), but the physicality of it. The intimacy within the anonimity. The way it made his pulse beat harder and his body feel powerful in new ways.

Tony has a stripper pole on the private jet – the only aircraft from his old possessions that wasn't sold off. He and Peter are taking it somewhere and the pole is the elephant in the room.

So... Peter puts on a show. :)