#i’ll write a longer post about plans and updates in the coming days

[evertidings]

happy new year <3

happy new year everyone <3

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 3

~~~

part 1, part 2

~~~

Author’s Note: First of all, thank you for the lovely comments! 🥰 Second, I’m writing this as I go, so while I’ll try to post every other day, it might come a point when I’m not done on time. Just so you know if it suddenly takes longer for the next part to be posted.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… now you do. And you’re not handling it very well.

~~~

It’s almost sundown when you and the others are back at the camp again. It’s been a good day, all in all. You were able to stock up on potions and scrolls, and Karlach sweet-talked her way into a good deal on a handaxe. Not that you were there to watch it happen — Halsin’s favour had you talking to both the new leader of the Druids, Francesca, and Rath, the latter engaging you in a longer conversation than originally planned. Not that you minded, Rath is a good conversationalist. And quite handsome.

Yes, you did notice, but you kept it polite, not at all in the mood for flirting. Not when your thoughts continuously drifted back to a certain vampire that declined tagging along at the last minute.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but your eyes roam Halsin’s tent when you search him out to relay the information you gathered today. It’s probably a coincidence that Astarion decided to remain, but you can’t help but look for signs of someone sharing Halsin’s bed.

If Halsin sees you snooping, he doesn’t confront you about it, and you feel silly when you leave him to find the others. Who he sleeps with is none of your business, and you tell yourself that this is enough. Either you get over yourself, or you let Astarion go.

Which is easier said than done.

“Hey Karlach, let me see that axe of yours.” The rest of your party is gathered around the fire, preparing tonight’s meal. “From what I hear, I should bring you every time I need to haggle down the price for something.”

“Look at this beauty!” Karlach happily shows you her new weapon. “I’m going to polish it tomorrow, really bring out the shine it deserves.”

“How come you weren’t there, Tav?” Astarion sounds nonchalant, like he couldn’t care less but decides to ask anyway.

“I believe Tav had more important things to do.” Trust Lae’zel to come to your rescue.

“Halsin wanted some updates from the Grove,” you add.

“Mhmm, but surely that’s not the only reason why you talked for so long with Rath, Tav?” Shadowheart teases. “It seemed like you two really hit it off.”

“Yeah, he’s cute, Tav. Go for it!”

You want to look at Astarion, but you force yourself to turn your attention to Karlach instead, making sure to sound as casual as possible. “He’s nice, but…” You already have someone. “Perhaps you should go for him, Karlach, if you find him cute?”

“Nah, I have my eyes on someone else.”

It’s adorable, the way she lights up, and you wish you could hug her. “Hmmm, might this be a blacksmith we all know?”

“Tav!”

“This is secret to none, Karlach,” Lae’zel says. “Even a blind fool couldn’t help but notice the way you swooned when he helped you in the Grove.”

“I didn’t swoon!”

“There was definitely some swooning happening,” Shadowheart chimes in. “We all saw it.”

“Aaaanyway…! This was about Tav, not me.”

Dammit. You should’ve left for your tent when you had the chance. “No, no, I think we should talk more about you and Dammon.”

“Come on, Tav.”

“Yes, Tav, tell us all about your conversation with Rath.”

For a moment you somehow forgot that Astarion is there, too. “There’s nothing to tell. He’s just nice and easy to talk to.”

“Hmm, you’re not very convincing, Tav.”

With a groan, you turn to the wizard. “Not you too, Gale.” For someone so hung up on his ex, he sure looks jealous over the fact that you might be interested in someone else. “I know you all probably only mean well, but if you don’t drop this right now…”

You expect either Astarion or Lae’zel to make some kind of comment, but none of your companions say a peep. There’s an awkward silence for a few tension-filled moments and you wonder if you sounded too harsh. They only want your best, after all.

Thankfully, Shadowheart steps in, clearing her throat. “I think our food is ready.”

Once you sit down to eat, you watch them all as they talk and laugh. It feels like usual again, and you’re reminded how lucky you are to have come across such amazing people in this extraordinary situation life put you in.

Your gaze rests a little bit longer on your lover. He’s always beautiful, but it’s entrancing the way the flickering flames seem to caress his cheekbones, the arch of his nose. His smile. He’s laughing at something Lae’zel just said, and going by the look on her face, it wasn’t meant to be funny.

It’s quite the motley crew you’re leading — and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You freeze when you suddenly find yourself locking eyes with Astarion. He isn’t supposed to catch you staring, and you quickly look away even though you know it’s too late. You wait a few minutes, and when you glance in his direction again, he’s talking to Gale.

Why must it be so difficult? Are you making it more difficult than it needs to be? You want to be with him and only him, so why not just ask it of him? If he says no, you’ll at least know instead of always wondering. And if he says yes, maybe he’ll grow to love you back.

Once again, you wish you had someone to talk to — and after today you think you can confide in Karlach — but it feels good to have come to a decision. Hopefully you can get him alone after dinner, because you would prefer to have it done before the stargazing Gale has planned.

You allow yourself to imagine the two of you lying next to each other in the grass, holding hands, smiling. Or his arm around you, holding you near.

You refuse to think about the other option, even though it’s the far more likely outcome.

For now, you’re going to pretend that everything’s going to be alright.

[novafire-is-thinking]

(Until life picks up speed again, this is null. I’ll update it later.)

How to say goodbye ‘see you around’ and mean it…

The time has come.

First thing’s first: this isn’t goodbye—just a heads up.

Due to changes I’m making in my personal life, I’m easing away from the Transformers fandom for a partial hiatus. My ambition makes me restless, and it’s about time I put some of my plans into action.

Yes, a Chinese person becoming a doctor. How original.

Maybe I’ll turn out like Ratchet. Maybe I’ll suffer long enough to become Pharma.

Only time will tell…

In any case, I don’t plan on totally disappearing from the fandom any time soon. For the foreseeable future, you’ll see me around primarily on weekends, Wednesdays, and holidays—collecting posts for the queue, answering old asks, announcing completed WIPs, and making a post every once in a while.

What to expect:

The queue will publish a few times a day, and most original posts and extra reblogs will be scheduled.

I have 300+ post ideas saved in my notes and screenshots. My goal is to slowly release these into the wild.

I’ll try to keep writing meta, but when and how will depend entirely on how much free time I have, and what little energy I have to spare.

If I ever have extra time, I might open my ask box and play an ask game or two. Maybe…

Asks, tags, and other things:

If you sent an ask in the past, I probably have it saved either in my inbox or my drafts. Yes—even the asks that are almost a year old. I have not forgotten, and I still intend to answer, even if the sender doesn’t remember.

My inbox is closed for now, but I’ve set up a fancy little Google form as a replacement: Nova’s Commlink

If at any time, you tagged me in something interesting, I saved it in my drafts. If I’ve deemed it worthy of a response, you will see it eventually.

Feel free to keep tagging me in things. I’ll give posts a ‘like’ to confirm I saw them, and if I really like a post, I’ll queue it for later or drop it in my drafts if I want to give a longer response.

If you tag me and I don’t confirm receipt within a few days, drop me a note in the Google form.

If I said I would do something else for you, I haven’t forgotten. It’s on my list, and I will get back to you about it when I’m able.

WIPs:

Fics for my Constellations of Cybertron AU are on hold. I’ll still plot and plan, but it will be a long time before I publish any of those longer stories.

I will continue working on my shorter WIPs: short fics, zine pieces, etc.

How to reach me:

Anyone (mutual or otherwise) who has my Discord should message me over there. This extends to those I’m in servers with.

Mutuals who don’t have my Discord and anyone I follow here can still DM me through Tumblr.

Everyone else can contact me using the Google form.

Don’t be afraid of bothering me. It may take me a while to respond, but I welcome it.

Last updated: 5/14/24 - section(s) updated: intro, What to expect, and WIPs

[cinderella-ish]

If you know anyone who writes music, today has probably been a very crappy day for them.

Finale, one of the most dominant programs for music notation for the past 35 years, is coming to an end. They’re no longer updating it or allowing people to purchase it, and it won’t be possible to authorize on new devices or if you upgrade your OS.

I’ve personally been using Finale to write music for about 20 years (since middle school!). It’s not something that I depend on for money, and my work should be compatible with other programs, so I’ll be fine, but this is very, very bad news for lots of people who depend on this software for their livelihood.

(cut added so info added to reblogs doesn't get buried!)

The shittiest thing is that this was preventable. From a comment on Finale’s post:

As a former Tech Lead on Finale (2019-2021) I can tell you this future was avoidable. Those millions of lines of code were old and crufty, and myself and others recognized something had to be done. So we created a plan to modernize the code base, focusing on making it easier to deliver the next few rounds of features. I encouraged product leadership to put together a feature roadmap so our team could identify where the modernization effort should be focused.

We had a high level architecture roadmap, and a low level strategy to modernize basic technologies to facilitate more precise unit testing. The plan was to create smart interfaces in the code to allow swapping out old UI architecture for a more modern, reliable, and better maintained toolset that would grow with us rather than against us.

But in the end it became clear support wasn’t coming from upper management for this effort.

I’m sad to see Finale end this way.

Finale also could allow people who own the software to move it to their new devices in the future, but Capitalism. It’s a pointless corporate IP decision that only hurts users.

There are three main options for those of us who are having to switch: Dorico, MuseScore, or Sibelius.

Sibelius has been Finale’s main competitor for as long as I can remember. It currently runs on a subscription model (ew). The programs are about equal in terms of their capabilities, though I’ve heard Finale has more options for experimental notation. (I’ve used both; Finale worked better for my workflow, but that’s probably just because I grew up using it.)

Dorico is the hip new kid and I’d personally been considering switching for quite a while, but it’s ungodly expensive (about twice what Finale cost at full price). Thankfully, they are allowing current Finale users to purchase at a price comparable (well, still 50% higher) to what Finale used to cost with the educator discount. It apparently has a very steep learning curve at first, though it is probably the best option for experimental notation.

MuseScore is open source, which is awesome! But it also has the most limitations for people who write using experimental notation.

I haven’t used MuseScore or Dorico and will probably end up switching to one of those, but it’s also not an urgent matter for me. Keep your musician friends in your thoughts; it’s going to be a rough road ahead if they used Finale.

[sebsallowapologist]

Little Bird || Part I

This was up on AO3 for a bit- but I’ve done more writing and I’m going to be posting more chapters, so I thought I’d edit it to be more reader / MC instead of an OC (I feel like Tumblr likes that more but lmk!) Little outtakes from the trio’s last year at Hogwarts <3 

Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader • 7th Year • Friends to Lovers

warnings: none for now- I’ll update if future chapters get a little 🌶 First one is a little short but they get longer. 

Over the summer before her seventh year MC has really come into her own. Figured out how to do her hair, dress to accentuate her favorite features, and finally looks like a full grown woman, instead of child. It seems like everyone has noticed - everyone except her crush best friend Sebastian Sallow.

She tries to deal with her deepening feelings, loosing control of her ancient magic and feeling like she’s not ready to leave Hogwarts.

________________________________

I hadn’t gotten farther than throwing my trunk down next to my bed before I turned on my heel and ran out of the Ravenclaw dormitories.

I come around the corner, bolting for the stairs that will lead me out of the Astronomy tower when I smack head first into Everett, who reaches his arms out to grip my shoulders and steady me before I hit the floor from the force.

“Woah there now.” He laughs, giving me a once over while keeping his hands on my shoulders. “In a rush already? It’s barely the first day of the term.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear and back up a few steps as I answer him, his hands falling off my shoulders as I walk away, backwards toward my escape. “Yeah, Yep. Got plans.”

“What about later? We can catch up from summer over a butterbeer? Three broomsticks, yeah?”

“Uh yeah I’m sure I’ll see you there.” I laugh a little awkwardly, wincing as I turn around. I was willing to say anything to get out of the common room, but I wish I hadn’t left the door open for the butter beer. Truth be told I’ve never really liked Everett. Not after I saw him bully another student in my first year here. Giving him a mean nickname and refusing to let it drop. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, but teasing people for something they can’t control is just cruel. I’d always had the feeling he didn’t particularly like me either- or really remember I existed.

“Well I was thinking we could make a specific time, and meet there.”

crap.

I take a few more steps back and plaster on a polite smile.

“I’ll talk to you later!” I wave as I break back into my run, stepping down the stairs I knew all too well, using the bannister to swing my body around the corners and keep my speed up. I burst through the door and only have to take a few steps before I come to a screeching halt. Because I see him. 

Him. 

Sebastian is leaning against the wall, always the picture of nonchalance. He’s not yet wearing his shapeless robes, a thin sweater clinging to the muscles that has gotten even more pronounced over the summer. For Merlin’s sake how did that happen? 

Ominis stands straight next to his slouched friend, I feel like he had a few more inches on him now too.

It was so good to see them together as friends again, hanging out without me orchestrating it. It had taken me all of year six, but finally they were on good terms, and I was quite looking forward to no longer playing referee.

He catches me staring- and when we lock eyes a brilliant smile spreads across Sebastian’s face, freckles crinkling around his eyes. I break back into my run, faster than ever and he pushes himself off the wall to catch me in a hug, spinning me around twice in the air before setting my feet back down on the stone floor. “Hi little bird.” he smiles and all I can do is smile back up at him. “Did you have a good trip in? Hogwarts Express gave you no trouble, right darling?” I nodded.

He of course didn’t have to ask how my summer was, there wasn’t a week where we didnt send owls back and forth. “Don’t hog her.” Ominis smiles, opening his arms for a hug.

I wrap my arms around him and bounce on my toes, trying my very best to contain my excitement. “I missed you both so much, life was terribly boring without you.”

“Your life? Terribly boring? I know you get up to trouble whenever you can, don’t lie.” Ominis laughed and I pat his cheek. “Are we going for food? Hogsmeade? What are we doing?” I ask.

“Well I vote we get obviously drunk at the three broomsticks, wanter around hogsmeade and come back to generally terrorize year ones, it’s our job since we’re year seven now.” Sebastian smirks, cracking his knuckles for his ever present dramatic effect.

I smack his chest, fighting the urge to not run my hand over the soft sweater. “Stop it’s their first year they’re probably already scared out of their wits. Besides, we have the feast in a few hours.”

“Ominis already made one cry.”

“Listen! He stepped in my way, we almost took a tumble down the stairs-”

Ominis recounts his story as we start walking down the hallway. Sebastian walks next to me, and his arm rests over my shoulders. “Ah- I missed you little bird.” He mumbles in my ear as Ominis tells his story.

“I missed you too.” I whisper and he kisses the top of my head.

[shellxrls]

WRITING UPDATES:

sej x reader x coryo fic - coming within the next week: super smutty but simultaneously very coryo centric with a focus on how he feels about the whole scenario in relation to his sexuality.

ward cameron smut 😁 - hoping i can post this within the next week too: probably just gonna be a blurb bc there’s not a huge audience for him, i have yet to decide the premise but i have a couple of ideas in mind.

dark!snow + gun kink - might take a week or two, maybe a bit longer depending on how much time i have: self explanatory, very dark though so keep that in mind. i have yet to start this one as well but i have the general idea pretty well solidified.

going through reqs and writing/fulfilling all of them - idk how long this is going to take but i’ll try to be answering them consistently.

and then finally if i get through all my requests, 1k follower celebration will probably happen sometime in january!! (i’ll only post the ‘official’ celebration post once ive finished all the reqs in my inbox atm though and feel comfortable enough to open them again & not be too overwhelmed).

i hope this post was helpful in outlining what you guys can expect. i’ll try my hardest to stick to it but rlly sometimes inspiration strikes randomly and some pieces get finished a lot quicker than others (which is why i usually tend not to plan my writing).

do keep in mind that it is christmas, and while i’m on holiday i am staying with my family these days and i’m still pretty busy bc of it - so it will take me a while to get through all my requests. thank you for being so patient with me though, i appreciate it a lot.

[duckprintspress]

Meet Aether Beyond the Binary Contributor Terra P. Waters

Another day, another AETHER BEYOND THE BINARY creator to shine the spotlight on!

Before we get to that, just a note: hi, I’m Nina Waters, the lead editor, the person running this campaign, and the one who writes all these blog posts. I’ll be traveling for the next four days (Friday, Jan 12 – Monday, Jan 15) to vend for Duck Prints Press at Arisia in Boston. As a result, I will be slower to answer messages, reply to comments, and post updates (I’m going to try to post one, but I’m not sure I’ll have time). I appreciate your patience while I’m less available. And if by some chance, you’re attending the con, make sure you come and say hi! I’ll be at table D14 in the dealer’s room.

Now, on to Terra…!

About Terra: Terra is a scientist by day who lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family. She has been writing fiction as long as she can remember, and has always told her partner of 17 years that if she wasn’t a scientist, she would be an author. During grad school, she discovered fanfiction and immediately began writing her own. After many years and several fandoms (including Teen Wolf, Hawaii Five-0, and Stranger Things), she returned to writing original fiction. To date, she has self-published two novellas in a 90s-nostalgia polyamory comedy series and has drafted two YA/NA sci-fi novels. When not doing science or writing, you can find Terra indulging her yarn addiction and knitting.

Links: Archive of Our Own | Tumblr (pterawaters) | Tumblr (terrapwaters) | Instagram | Bluesky

Terra has previously published one short stories with Duck Prints Press, a Patreon-exclusive entitled The Wayward Timekeeper, and she also wanted to share a few of her works from AO3: 

Kope Kamekona (Hawaii Five-O, Steve McGarrett/Catherine Rollins/Danny Williams)

Forever’s gonna start tonight (Stranger Things, A/B/O, multiple ships and ot3s)

Other Delicacies (Our Flag Means Death, Ed Teach/Stede Bonnet) – this is the piece that Terra used to apply to Duck Prints Press, and several of us reviewers liked it so much that we sought it out and read the whole thing even though we aren’t in the fandom!

An Interview with Terra P. Waters

What motivates you to create?

My love for the ideas!

How did you pick the name you create under?

I’ve been using the name “pterawaters” since 2009, when I joined fanfiction.net. “Ptera” came from an old gaming character I had, “Ptera the Pterrible,” and “Waters” was a last name I really liked the sound of. For my original writing, I decided to go with a more conventional version of the name. I moved the P from the front of my name to the middle initial as an homage to my fannish writing name.

What do you consider to be your strengths as a creator?

My ability to brainstorm scenarios and know how to outline the plot from there. Longer-form works, where I get to dig into the character motivations and development. World building.

What do you consider to be your weaknesses as a creator?

Short stories, creating characters who serve the story I want to tell, adding enough description around the dialog and plot.

When and why did you begin creating?

I’ve been writing since I was a kid, and even took a lot of creative writing classes during college (aside from my science major). I get a lot of joy out of thinking “what if…” and then turning that idea into a story.

Are you a pantser, a planner, or a planster? What’s your process look like?

I’m most often a planner. I like to outline the story beats of any project before I write. Sometimes, I’ll be more of a plantser. I’ll write 1-2k words of an idea before I do the rest of the outline, so I can see if it’s an idea worth planning out further.

Which of your own creations is your favorite? Why?

I wrote a story called “Entanglement” that was part of a long Stranger Things fanwork series. It’s absolutely my favorite thing I’ve ever written, and I’m excited to get to the point where I can incorporate the rewritten version into my sci-fi series.

What are your favorite tropes?

Polyamory, First times/Getting together, Forced proximity (cuddling for warmth, only one bed), Soulmate AUs, Omegaverse, Fake relationship, Friends to Lovers

What are your favorite snacks and/or drinks to consume while creating?

I like herbal tea, candy, or a crunchy snack like popcorn. I’ve recently gotten into eating roasted lentils, which is a nice substitute for not being able to eat nuts anymore.

What is your “dream project” – the thing you’d see as the culmination of your work as a creator?

I want to finish a series of at least 4 novels and have them all in print.

When you look at your “career” as a creator, what  achievement would you most like to reach – what, if it happened or has  already happened, would/did make you go “now – now I’m a success!”?

I would like to have at least one full-length novel printed and for people to actually buy it!

Tell us about your pet(s).

I have two orange cats, Gadget (the chonk) and Gizmo (anxiety in animal form).

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Finish the thing. My writing got so much better once I forced myself to finish fan works so I could put them up for other people to read. Practicing the first part of writing a story without practicing how to write the end leaves you never finishing anything.

Terra’s Contribution to Aether Beyond the Binary

Title: Ancient Hearts Unearthed

Tags: academia, alternate history, cancer, character illness (serious), f/nb, f/f (background), fat, first kiss, friends to lovers, getting together, hospital, modern with magic, mystery, non-binary, panic attacks, past tense, phobia (claustrophobia), pining, professor, scientist, third person limited pov

Excerpt:

Victoria turned and ran a hand over the runes again. “What bothers me is that these are early Age of Aether markings. You see the way they’re using archaic forms of our letters?”

Sasha leaned closer. “I’ll be damned. This doesn’t match the bronze-era artifacts in the rest of the cave, either.” They made a tiny humming noise. “Who else would have this much knowledge of ancient runes?”

As Victoria leaned as close as she could to the wall, she asked distractedly, “What do you mean?”

“Obviously, it’s a fake,” they said, mulling over the problem in their head. “Sanderson has wanted my place on the admissions committee since he joined the department.”

“What if it’s not a fake?” Victoria made a tiny, excited noise. “What if this is early Aether Age work? What if this is a secret that’s been buried for almost a thousand years?”

Sasha’s heart swooped at the thought. “We have to find out what that inscription says.”

You've read the interview! You've read the excerpt! Now go back the campaign!

[sen-no-kotowari]

PGR Noan Activation Day 2023 Mail

With the recent text editor update, I won't be using my usual plug-in for the posts I make here onward unfortunately. I'll try to figure out which format for the voice lines would work for me so other than that, everything's probably the same.

You can read more of Noan's thoughts about his activation day on the cut down below (*‘ω‘ *)

Is today...

Hello, Commander. I found the book you mentioned the other day. Please come pick it up at the library when you have the time since I’ve borrowed it for you. Also, Commander Simon was looking for you. It seemed like he absolutely wanted to meet up with you today, but… I can tell him that you can’t if you’re busy. Though I think it might not be that important since you haven’t tried to contact me, but still… In any case, I’ll be in the library for the whole day. Please come drop by again when you’re free. From: Noan's Mail―Part 1

Thank you

Who would’ve thought that both you and Commander Simon were planning to celebrate my “activation day.” I couldn’t remember the exact day I became a Structure since this amalgamation of a model was constructed by an Ascendant using scrap parts of other defunct Structures. I wrote down my date of birth when I registered in Eden because I’ve been told that it was okay to write down my birthday or any specific day I have in mind as the date of my activation. For you to remember such a day… I was really surprised. Allow me to express my heartfelt gratitude. Thank you, (Commander). Even though I should’ve told you this when I escorted you to the Gray Raven’s maintenance room, the words were somehow stuck in my throat. A lot had happened in my life that I wanted to forget my own birthday and even other people’s birthdays. I think I would’ve also forgotten my birthday if it weren’t for the two of you.  Thank you, for remembering this day… For celebrating the day a sinner like myself was born. Would this mean… I’ve gotten a bit closer to you, enough that you’ve accepted me for who I am? I know I should send something as a token of appreciation at times like these, but… While we were choosing a gift for Lilian, I noticed that Commander Simon and Captain Palma don’t know a single thing about you, including the things you like and all. I thought of giving something adequately practical as a gift, but a senior officer told me the other day that friendships built on a lack of gratitude are frail and fake. It’s also important to have a sense of indebtedness toward others. Even the best of friends frequently argue with each other and it’s precisely because they try to reconcile their differences even after so many problems they had faced that they’ve grown close, forging a genuine friendship. I’m no longer a wayfarer without a home to return to, plus I wish to stay here in Eden as of now. That’s why I don’t want this to be a one-time thing after today. I want to see you again. I want to know more about you. I want to directly hear it from you rather than from someone else. I wish to give you something better next time as a gift, as a friend and comrade. I believe that maybe this sketchbook illustrating the starry sky at night would be good as a token of appreciation, but… I drew it because I wish to convey to you that I would always remember the words you said to me that day. P.S. That being said, I thought just giving you a worthless artwork as a gift wasn’t enough, so I’ve also bought you a bottle of multivitamin gummies. Commander Simon told me that you can replenish the nutrition your body needs with this. Since you’re also tired today, please take your vitamins before bed and get plenty of rest. Don’t push yourself too much. Good night. From: Noan's Mail―Part 2

[ravenofthefandoms]

The Lucky Stag: Part 3

Word Count: 4621 (oopsies)

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader

Characters: Sandor Clegane, original character (Marlys), original character (mentioned) (Jeremiah Bryne), Morgan (mentioned), Lem (mentioned), Gatins (mentioned), Brotherhood without Banners, Thoros of Myr, Beric Dondarrion

Warnings: some gore (it’s Game of Thrones), some mild angst, some mild fluff

A/N: Hi :) sorry for disappearing but life has been hectic. I’ve been wanting to write again, especially after House of the Dragon. Hopefully, people still wanna see more of this. Hopefully, for a time, I’ll have more regular updates and posts. As I said a while back, there are some Podrick x reader posts I have brewing plus some ideas for House of the Dragon. This one isn’t super exciting but I’ve got some plans for the next few chapters that should get the blood pumping if you will

Tags (let me know if you would like to be removed since it’s been so long): @anita-e-taylor, @my-bitch-loki @orange-sherbxrt

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters outside of my own original characters. The others belong to George R.R. Martin. I do not own any of the gifs used. They belong to the original creators.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

You had been walking for ages, or what felt like it at least. Walking where, you did not know. Sandor had muttered to himself while he held you outside of the burning tavern, something about finding the men so he could tear them to bloody fucking pieces. Unfortunately, you had nothing but the singed, smoky clothes on your back and the aching hole in your chest left to your name. You knew, in reality, that it had only been a day and a half since your life had turned to ash but time no longer felt as it did before. Your eyes always felt dry, and your voice caught in your throat more often than not. Sandor could count the words you’ve spoken on his two hands.

On the first night, your friend, Marlys, was gracious enough to let you stay with her and her husband. She insisted that it was her duty as your friend, however. Another thing she tried to insist on was you sleeping in her and her husband’s bed, which he had heartily agreed to. You refused, though. Instead, you curled on the hay floor near the fireplace, Sandor sitting against the wall near your feet. 

Marlys was truly a kind woman, and you felt badly now for the way you were when you stayed there that night. You supposed that you shouldn’t, considering your grief was fresh and intense. The next morning, you and Sandor broke your fast with Marlys and her husband before they gave you enough food for a day of travel and a skin of water. Their kindness made tears well in your eyes. As you said your goodbyes, Sandor waited outside for you. 

Your childhood friend pulled you into a tight embrace. Tears spilled onto each others’ shoulders as she whispered her condolences. After a night of rest, you realized that you weren’t the only one who grieved your brother’s death, and held onto Marlys as tightly as she held onto you. “I’ll miss you, (Y/N). Promise you’ll come back someday.” You nodded in response, not trusting your voice to be steady. 

Letting go, you walked out to a patiently waiting Sandor. “Ready?” He knew what your real answer was, the same as anyone else’s would be. Your nod was good enough for him though. With one last tearful look towards probably the one place you wish you could stay, you began walking.

The first day of walking had been largely uneventful. Sandor led you with, surprisingly, gentle hands. Whether on your elbow, on the small of your back, or even holding your own in his, he never let go of you until you needed a break or it was time to set up camp. He found a clearing off the side of the path you had been traveling. With no ax, he was unable to cut any logs to build a proper fire, and instead gathered twigs and sticks from the surrounding copse of trees. As he gathered the firewood, you sat and prepared the area where the fire would blaze. Stones from a nearby stream were set in a circle to keep the flames contained. You handed it over to Sandor when he returned. He began to stack the wood, stuffing fallen leaves and tall grass into the center.

By the time you sat and made yourself as comfortable as you could on the hard ground, Sandor had the tinder smoking, then smoldering, and finally beginning to burn. As the fire slowly grew, Sandor moved to sit next to you. His eyes watched you carefully, unsure what to do or say. He had never been good with words, most of them crass and rude. He didn’t want to be crass or rude with you though. When it came to you, Sandor wanted to make you smile and laugh, to see the glimmer in your eye when you spoked animatedly, to keep you warm during the chilly nights, to-... He shook his head slightly, needing to derail this trail of thinking. As odd yet enjoyable this sensation was, there were priorities to be dealt with first. He needed to track down those sons of bitches that hurt you so and make them regret ever being born. 

“Sandor,” you murmured. He looked down and grunted. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.” He suddenly found his hands, fiddling with a small twig, to be much more interesting. 

“Don’ thank me. I’ve been more trouble than not,” he muttered. A soft chuckle, more of a sigh than anything, fell from your lips and you shook your head, almost as if he had made some silly joke. Pride swelled in his heart for a moment – hearing any sort of sweet sound from you was a blessing. You didn’t respond to his words, only scooted closer to him as a chill began to creep into the air. Your shoulders grazed his, body heat warming you as much as the fire in front of you. “You should get some rest.” His eyes flicked down to you, the smallest of bitter smiles gracing your lips. 

“Aye, I should.” You looked up at him; the lack of, well, everything in your eyes made him uneasy. He knew as well as you that rest would not come easy, if at all. Your eyes returned to the flames, your gaze becoming unfocused in them. A long moment lasted before you spoke again. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” Your voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. Sandor kept his gaze fixated on your face, waiting for you to continue. “I’ve always known what needed to be done. Cook the venison, bake the bread, serve the ale, keep the tavern running, watch over my-... watch over my brother.” The last few words came out slightly strangled, as though you choked on them. “I am lost now.” 

Another long silence fell between you before Sandor reached over and took one of your hands in his own. “You’re not lost. You’re not broken neither.” Your gaze lifted to meet his own. “You’re strong. And I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you, if you let me.” You were able to offer him a small, watery smile along with a quick nod.

“Thank you, Sandor.” Your eyes returned to the flames for a moment longer before you closed them. “I want nothing more,” you said softly. Again, silence fell over the two of you, nothing to hear aside from the crackling of the fire. Sandor was unsure how long he stared into the dancing flames before your head nodded onto his shoulder and soft snores filled the air. 

The next morning, you awoke with a start, images from the past few days haunting your dreams. The sun was just beginning to climb over the horizon, though the chill of night still hung in the air. A shiver ran down your spine as your body began to wake from its slumber. Your tailbone and legs ached as you stood and made your way to the stream. The water was cold and brisk. Dipping your hands in the babbling brook made your arms break out into gooseflesh. You cupped the water in your hands, gently bringing it to your face. The freezing shock was necessary, you felt, before you began on your journey again. When you returned to the fire, Sandor’s eyes were open and sought out your approaching figure. 

He said nothing, something you were accustomed to after a few months of knowing him. Sandor would never be considered a particularly chatty man. However, sitting in silence with the large man brought you a sense of peace and calm. 

You nodded once at the question in his eyes, and he rose to his feet. There was nothing for you to gather or put away, only the still-smoldering embers of the night’s fire. Sandor kicked dirt over it, if only to ensure that the flames would stay smothered rather than springing back to life. Once again, he guided you to the path with sure steps. There was a bloodlust in his eyes as he tracked the men that he was intent on killing. It didn’t scare you, strangely enough. For once, it made you feel… protected. You couldn’t say that you remember a time when you felt protected. Your brother, gods rest his soul, was strong and protected you from men who were too handsy or too violent. There was always the silent agreement, however, that you were the one that protected your brother. You raised him, cared for him, and made sure he grew to be the man that he was beginning to be. This sensation from Sandor, it lifted a weight off of your shoulders that you had not realized was there. A shadow that had hung from you for as long as you could remember.

Gently, you shook these thoughts from your head. You instead focused on the path ahead, watching and wary of your surroundings. Many hours passed, early morning turning into early afternoon. As though he was indeed a hound picking up a scent, Sandor stopped suddenly. He turned to your left. You turned as well, trying to see or hear or smell whatever it was that he was sensing. After a few moments, you could hear the sound of raucous laughing, as well as cursing. It was enough for Sandor to tug you along gently, despite his long, angry strides.

You walked just behind Sandor, the sound of laughter growing as you continued to walk closer. An ax laid next to a stump and a pile of chopped logs. From where you stood, you could see four men, all somewhat familiar, sitting around a fire. Sandor stopped, looking back at you slightly with a warning in your eyes. It was something you understood quickly. You nodded and took a step back.

That bloodlust was back in his eyes, if it ever left. He grabbed that ax and began stalking towards the group of men. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. Sandor swung his ax with a yell at the first man, lopping off his head with ease. It was at this moment that you turned around, hand pressed to your mouth to keep the bile down. It wasn’t that you had a sudden guilt about the silent agreement between you and Sandor to avenge your brother. In fact, you quite enjoyed the ferocity with which he swung his weapon. What made your stomach churn was the memory that it returned to you: your brother’s corpse. The grisly nature of the scene unfolding was something that you found you just could not watch. Squelching flesh as it was maimed by steel still reached your ears. Your eyes closed quickly, taking deep breaths to keep your stomach calm. As the final man whimpered in pain, you could hear Sandor speaking to him. You weren’t sure what Sandor said, his voice too soft to be carried over the wind. You did, however, hear the dying man scream at the giant before him.

All you could hear was further grumbling from Sandor. You did not open your eyes nor did you remove your hand from your mouth. The crunch of leaves and sticks stopped behind you. “It’s over now, little flower.” His hand gently came up to grab your wrist, pulling it away from your face. Your eyes opened slowly, looking up to meet Sandor’s own gaze.

“Did I scare ya?” There was something in his voice that had you shaking your head quickly.

“No, Sandor. I just… I couldn’t watch.” He nodded softly. Your hand drifted up slowly to rest on his scarred cheek. “Thank you.” Your voice was more frail than you expected or wanted it to be. “They met the ends they deserved.” 

He nodded his agreement. 

“Aye, they did. There are still more. The one who led them, with the yellow cloak. We find him, and your brother will have been avenged.” You nodded, looking up at him with a fierceness in your eyes that made his heart stutter a moment. With no more need to stay, the two of you continued back on your journey. 

Surprisingly, you did not walk as far as you thought you would have to before the sounds of men reached your ears again. It was distinctive this time, and much closer than the last group of men had been. Sandor looked down at you, nodded, and then headed towards the noise, ax ready to attack.

To both your own and Sandor’s surprise, the men you sought were standing on barrels with nooses around their necks. A handful of men, no more than ten, stood around them, and one sat above on the tree branch. Swords were partially drawn in caution, until one of the men spoke.

“Clegane.” He was a handsome man, the one who spoke. An eye patch covered his right eye, a crop of sandy hair cropped close to his head. If it weren’t for the setting you found yourself in, you would think him to be some dashing knight that you, as did many of the other girls in your village, dreamt of being swept away by. You stayed close to Sandor, however, almost hiding behind him as a child does behind their mother’s skirts.

“The fuck you doing here?” Another man asked. This one had long hair gathered into a knot atop his head and a deep red cloak hanging around his shoulders. His gaze flicked to you, seemingly amused.

Sandor pointed at the soon-to-be hanged men. “Chasing them.” His hand, still gripping yours, tensed slightly. “You?”

The second man to speak looked back at the men before responding. “Hanging them.” He seemed almost bemused in the way he spoke, as though it were just another sunny afternoon. 

“Any particular reason?” Was Sandor’s somewhat irritated response. The clipped conversation had your eyes darting between the men as they spoke. 

The first man spoke again. “They’re our men, or they were. They attacked a nearby sept and murdered the villagers. Burnt down a tavern in the next village too. Why do you want them?” His eye flicked to you, as though just realizing that the Hound was not alone. Curiosity made his head quirk to the side, his lone eye seeming to look you up and down. Not in the way you were used to men doing, but in a way that made your skin crawl. Like he was reading your body, your mind, and your soul. There was a part of you that felt sure he could hear every thought in your head.

“Same reason.” Sandor jerked his head to you. “It was her tavern they burnt. Her brother they murdered.” Your hand tensed in his, and he squeezed it gently. “She saved me.”

“Saved you? A surprise anyone would think to do that.” The second man seemed to be quite witty, or at least thought he was. There was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes that you could see, even from your distance. 

Sandor looked down at you once again before returning his gaze to the men in front of him. “Aye, it is.” A pause and he started walking towards them intently, you following behind him. “They’re ours.” Sandor said, a statement of fact rather than a request.

The first man moved forward. “It is the Brotherhood’s good name they’ve dragged through the dirt.

“Fuck your name.” Sandor’s response was instant. The two of you came to a stop in front of the men. “They’re ours. I’ve killed ya once before, Dondarrion, happy to do it again.” In response, a man in the small crowd drew an arrow, pointing it at Sandor. You frowned and moved to the side between the archer and Sandor, releasing his hand in the process. “Drop that arrow, you bloody girl.” His eyes remained focused on the man he addressed as Dondarrion. “Tougher girls than you tried to kill me.” Sandor raised his ax, pointing it at the archer but careful of where he knew you stood next to him. A beat of silence and Sandor turned to start stalking towards the archer.

“You can have one of them.” Sandor turned back.

“Two.” It was almost incredulous how they seemed to barter over the lives of these men, who got to kill them. The two men who spoke with Sandor looked at each other. The second one nodded to the first, Dondarrion, who in turn nodded to Sandor.

They turned to the three men whose fates they so casually debated. Sandor went to the one on the farthest left, looked him up and down, and swung his ax back. It was grabbed, however, by the second man before he could bring it down. “No, no, no. We’re not butchers. We hang them.”

“Hanging? “ Sandor’s voice was annoyed. “All over in an instant. Where’s the punishment in that? Not enough after what they did to her brother. What they did to her ho-” Your hand on his arm stopped Sandor in his rant. He looked down to you, where you shook your head. There was no point in arguing. The other four you found died in pain and suffering. It was enough for you. Sandor pursed his lips and shook his head slightly. 

“They’ll die.” Was the simple answer from the red-cloaked man, whose hands rested so casually upon the pommel of his sword.

“We all bloody die, except for this one here.” Sandor looked back to Dondarrion, making your brow furrow in confusion. You turned to look at the man as well, still standing a bit behind Sandor. The man looked at you, a small, almost knowing smile upon his lips as he held your gaze. It unsettled you a bit, so you looked back and up at the men facing their deaths. “I’ll only gut one of them.” The bartering nearly made you snort with laughter, but you held it in.

“No.” Dondarrion switched his gaze from you to Sandor as he spoke. The giant man next to you turned and glared at the man.

“Chop off one hand.” This time you couldn’t help the snort of laughter, the gazes of the men around you turning upon you suddenly.

“We gave you two out of the three, out of respect of the lady’s loss. That’s generous.” His eye held a bit of warning for Sandor, telling him not to push his luck. Sandor sighed and looked down at you. You nodded and he turned back to Dondarrion. 

“Bunch of nances,” he grumbled. Sandor threw his ax to the ground in annoyance before looking up at the men. “There was a time I would’ve killed all seven of you just to gut these three.” Your brow quirked at his statement but you paid it no further mind.

“You’re getting old, Clegane. Or maybe your lady love has just made you soft.” Again with the mirthful look from the red-cloaked man, whose eyes roamed you freely. His gaze, though holding no malice, roamed over you with far less intensity and far more interest in the decolletage visible from the top of your gown. This was the gaze you were used to from men, and did not unsettle you like the other man’s did.

Sandor’s eyes turned to a deadly glare at the man before turning back to the men soon to be killed. “Well, he’s not.” His foot moved to the barrel that the first man stood on and kicked it from underneath his feet. He dropped suddenly and a sickening crunch was heard as he struggled against the noose. Sandor moved to the next one, turning back to you first with a question in his eyes. Your eyes leveled with his before flitting to the man in the middle.

“Did you kill my brother? With your own sword? The man you hung from a tree with the deer he had killed.” Your steely gaze leveled on the man, a pathetic whimper leaving his mouth. Violently, he shook his head, muttering what you believed to be lies. You had no proof save the the cloak around his neck. The cloak was not something you recognized, but the pins holding it together were. Those were the pins you had bought your brother for his sixteenth nameday. Your hand reached up, grasping the pins gently as you looked at them before you ripped them off. You put your bootclad foot on the edge of the barrel, leveling to meet his eyes once again.

“Mistress, please, I’ll give you anything.” The final words barely escaped his lips before you pushed the barrel over and the air was stolen from his lungs. With this man, there was no snap, only the strained gasp as his throat quickly began to become crushed against the rope. You kept your gaze upon the thrashing man’s face, watching with a deepset frown as his eyes seemed to bulge from his face and the color drained from his face to only be replaced by a blue hue. Dondarrion, who had sidled up next to you, quickly kicked over the barrel of the last man, who also choked. As soon as the third man began his suffering, you stepped back. The two men who Sandor seemed to know watched with varying expressions as Sandor looked at the middle man’s feet. The red-cloaked one seem bemused as Sandor removed the man’s boots and compared them to his own feet, while the other seemed intrigued.

“Got anything to eat?” Sandor finally asked once he pulled the new boots onto his feet. The men nodded and began walking to where they had set up camp. It wasn’t far, but far enough from the road where the deadmen hanged that you could no longer hear the creaking of the rope as their limp bodies swayed in the breeze.

A few men had stayed behind, assumingly to cook the game they had hunted and keep the fires stoked. You sat next to Sandor on a log, your knees drawn close to your chest. A leg of rabbit was in your hand but your gaze stayed on the lapping waves of the lake next to you. Two men sat on the log to your right and the man called Dondarrion on the left. The red-cloaked man soon joined you, a skin of something in his hands. “Enjoying yourself?” 

Sandor examined the rabbit bone, cleaning it of its meat. “I prefer chicken.” A small smile graced your lips before you took another bite from the leg.

“Would you like to introduce us to your friend, Clegane? It is the proper thing to do.” The red-cloaked man passed the skin to Sandor, who took a swig of it before handing it to you. You took it, the burn of alcohol bringing a slight relief to you.

“Not really,” he replied. You nudged him with your elbow, though this was only met with a grumble from the man. “(Y/N), that is Beric Dondarrion, leader of this… whatever it is. And that bald cunt with the topknot is Thoros of Myr. This is (Y/N).”

They both nodded to you, which you returned. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.” 

You snorted and shook your head. “I’m no lady, Ser. But I thank ye, for the food. And the justice.” Though you spoke of it, it didn’t really feel as though justice had been served. Those men were dead, but so was your brother. You wondered if the dull ache in your heart would ever leave, or even lessen at all. The men seemed to be able to see the dull look in your eyes. Sandor’s hand gripped your knee gently, tossing the rabbit bone into the flames. Your eyes met his, and a small smile lifted the corners of your lips. He nodded and turned back to Thoros and Beric, though his hand didn’t leave you. The aforementioned men shared a look, noticing this surprisingly sweet gesture of comfort from the Hound. 

Beric nodded at your words before returning his attention to Sandor once again. “You ought to join us.” You listened as Sandor snorted, responding to Beric. At this point, you tuned yourself out of the conversation, the only thing anchoring you to reality was Sandor’s hand on your leg. You finished the rest of the rabbit leg that had been given to you earlier, tossing the bone into the fire. 

Your eyes lingered over the water, lapping at the muddy shores. The image of the strangled man kept flashing in your mind, but you steeled yourself against it. He suffered, hopefully more than your brother did. This was not enough, but it had to be. You would make it so. 

The men continued to speak, Sandor’s thumb rubbing soft and slow circles against your knee. He stood, giving one reassuring pat to your leg before he walked to the edge of the lake and began to fiddle with his pants. You averted your eyes quickly, attempting to keep a soft blush from your cheeks as your eyes found the first thing that wasn’t Sandor. Unfortunately, that thing was the amused gaze of Thoros of Myr. Suddenly, something he said registered in your brain. “You’ve brought him back? Not healed him, but… how?” The man who called himself a priest chuckled into his drink. 

“I prayed.” Beric pulled up his shirt to show you many scars, many of which should have killed him. “Six times, isn’t it?” Beric nodded to Thoros’ question. “I just got lucky. Or he did, I suppose.” Beric dropped his shirt as Sandor returned from relieving himself.

They continued their conversation, though you only payed half a mind to it. The fact that Beric had died six times but was still standing before you, very much alive, was incredible. They continued to talk about fighting, cold winds, and mysterious creatures that sounded like tales that the old women in the village would tell you as a child. “It’s not too late, Clegane.” This was the last thing Beric said to Sandor, silently awaiting an answer to his proposition. Sandor gave a soft sigh, staring at Beric before looking down at you.

His gaze held yours for a long moment, longer than you’ve had before. A soft emotion that you couldn’t quite place entranced you. “Well, what do ya say, lass? Ever been to the North?” You shook your head slightly. “Would ya like to?” A brief moment of clarity washed over you. You accepted Sandor’s offer of protection. You thought that, once your brother’s killers were caught, he would see it as a job done. Or maybe he would simply refuse to bring you, a woman, on what was doubtlessly a dangerous adventure. It seemed that this was not the case. How it seemed, at least to you, was that Sandor was intent on staying with you. And this thought made your heart feel a little brighter than it had before, and a smile painted your mouth. A real smile, one that reminded Sandor of the smiles you would offer him back in the tavern. The smile that always made his heart skip a beat, despite that particular sensation frightening him.

“Aye, I think I would like to see the North. It’s not like there’s much left for me in the Riverlands.” Beric nodded his head to you while Thoros raised his skin and took another drink. Sandor offered you a small, secret smile before taking your fingers in his hand as discreetly as he could. It wasn’t discreet at all, but thankfully, neither Thoros nor Beric felt the need to say anything.

[wiz-writes]

Progress Update #3

Hello!

I’m back with another progress update before the actual demo update, mainly because of two reasons.

Firstly, I don’t think I’ve ever struggled with writing as much as I’m struggling now with finishing chapter one. I swear that thing just refuses to be written. Hence the update’s going to come out a bit later than I had originally planned. I would love to have it done by next week, so fingers crossed.

And secondly, the more important thing:

AS OF THE NEXT UPDATE, I will be changing the name of this WIP. It will no longer be called “A Rhapsody in Blue”, but rather “Aesemyr: The Withering” - I’ll be changing the tags and everything to reflect that (and I’ll probably make a new pinned post too). If you’re wondering why I’m doing this, I’ll explain below the cut.

Otherwise, thank you for reading and enjoy the rest of your day/night. :)

Why am I changing the name?

Well, there are a few reasons for that. As you might have noticed, I am very bad at naming things and when I started writing this, A Rhapsody in Blue was just a working title. I thought that the name was quite fitting at the time, so when I first released the demo and I tried and failed to think of another name, I felt that it was fine and that I would just leave the name as is. After all, why couldn’t it be called A Rhapsody in Blue?

But as time went on, I started liking the name less and less. I don’t think it has much to do with what is going on in the story, besides the colour blue. Moreover, does it tell you what the story might be about? I don’t think so; if anything, the first thing I think of is music. And that’s not a prominent theme in the game at all. Thus, my doubts just piled up until I decided that a name change was in order.

I know that this is something I should have done sooner, that changing the name now might not be the best of ideas. I also understand that some of you might dislike the new name, but both the words are there for a reason and I believe that’s the most important thing.

I hope you don’t mind the change too much.

Thank you for reading this far! :)

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

Hey, Mar! Since you've reblogged my post about the ask game, I thought I'd give it a shot.

I've read a lot of your amazing fics, but the first one was Echoes in Eternity and I will always love it, so I wanted to ask numbers 2,3 and 17 about that one.

Answer what you're comfortable with and have a nice day!

Hi!

Oh my god Echoes in Eternity my beloved first jump into fanfiction as an adult. My hiatus child. My forgotten baby in the corner. Actually this might bring me back to it. Let's go have a snoop!

2- What is your favorite paragraph from EoE? Is there a reason it’s your favorite?

I actually got a little stuck with this story a while back, and introducing Panville gave me so much energy and passion. This passage (the first paragraph, but the entire thing actually) is still vividly imprinted in my brain. I would write it very differently now, but I think you start to see my special voice come through here, and it’s really special to me 🥹.

3- What is the most amount of research you’ve done for the smallest detail? What was the detail and how much time/effort went into researching it?

For EoE, I planned so much. I have 2 entire notebooks of information about gladiators and gladiators fights and working in the roman army. I read Gladius: The World of the Roman Soldier, The Gladiators - Historical Novel: A Tale of Rome and Judea, and I read a book about ancient fighting techniques. I’ve never really used much of it, because I ended up not expanding in the way I thought I might do, but the entire gladiator/werewolf system was fully fleshed out before I even started the story. I started researching in June and started writing in September. I have… so many notes on the Hogwarts Gladiator system, I could write a “The world of EoE” sidefic.

I think I really had this illusion of grandeur when I started, that it would be a book in 3 parts, and I just didn’t think that I’d… lose interest? I easily read big fics (150K+) and kind of thought that EoE would be that, and that I would spend a LOT more time in the Dome having Hermione really get into the ranks and the entire system. But then I just wasn’t really… I could tell I wasn’t going to be able to finish, that I would lose interest too fast, so I made a few changes. I still plan on finishing the last 2 chapters, half of one is already written. But it’s hard to wrap up a story you’re no longer fully involved in, especially when you know there are a lot of people waiting for that update. I don’t want to disappoint, so I’d rather take my time.

17- What does your editing process look like?

I have a lot of flaws as a writer, but my two main ones is that I don’t know how to write a satisfying ending (finishing anything is not a habit of mine), and that I don’t know how to write a scene either. 

I often tend to write the entire dialogue, with the most basic, boring stage direction “he looks”, “he shrugs”, “he turns”, and then I go back and try to make it bearable for you guys. 

Green and I also tend to send each other bits and pieces of stuff and go “does that even make sense”, because we tend to get lost in metaphors.

I also put a lot of placeholders because I’m French and can’t always remember the word I’m looking for.

And sometimes I have stuff like this and it’s up to me to then remember what the hell I was talking about:

Scene : “You think I didn’t know about your sneaking into my library?” “Library?” “Books.”

But generally speaking I’ll sit down, write the entire draft of the next chapter in one go, and then spend either hours, days or weeks adding in the forms to make it pretty.

Thank you for the ask and for bringing me back to Echoes 🥹 my beloved forgotten child.

[uncleasad]

for that fic ask meme - 14, 26, 50, 53, 55

14. what’s your worst writing habit?

Oof! My entire writing process is one giant bad habit, so it’s hard to pick the worst part 😂

I know I just reblogged that post about ignoring the tyranny of the daily word count, but I’m going to say not trying to write a few words every day, or a sentence a week, or something like that…I let myself get into writing droughts that go on and on and on (and, yes, I’m busier than I was in 2020 and 2021, but I love writing and doing so always makes me feel good), so trying to stop those pauses before they become droughts is something I need to do to break a bad habit.

26. do you like to write one-shots or series, and why?

Both? I write what the idea I have calls for, I guess? (Almost all of my series are collections of one-shots; I have never thought of writing a series consisting of multi-chapter fics, but one kinda sneaked in there 😳)

I enjoy—and sometimes specifically choose an idea because it fits—writing one-shots because they’re a good way for me to get back into writing when I’ve been too busy with life or bogged down in one of my long WIPs. Last Christmas’s Mischief and Mistletoe is a great example of this: short, self-contained, and seasonally relevant 😏 I liken these sorts of fics to artists doing a doodle or quick sketch as a warm-up.

Sometimes while writing a one-shot I’ll think of something that will open the door to a sequel, sometimes there’ll be nothing specific but nothing to rule out more in the same vein (e.g. the Tales from the Salvatore Kitchen series), and sometimes readers will have a suggestion I hadn’t thought of that I love that will turn a one-shot into a series of one-shots.

It’s nice to have a series or two where you enjoy the world/setup, because it’s fun and easy to dip back in and write some more (so all the benefits of a one-shot) and you (I!) can develop ideas, characters, and events without feeling guilty about not updating (vs a single multi-chapter fic where readers have started reading and want more 😏); there’s less expectation.

(My true favorite things to write are the big, expansive, complex stories, but they’re simultaneously my least favorite for all those reasons 😂)

50. do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind? 53. when writing, do you have an outline? and do you stick to it?

These two are related, so I’ll tackle them together. I’ve linked to and written about George RR Martin’s post about gardening before, so there’s good background there and I’ll (try! to) make this the short version.

I mostly have a lightweight plan for what I write: a collection of scenes, or some important character beats or plot points, and often, but not always, an idea of what the ending is (sometimes my idea for the fic is “I want to write this scene that is probably somewhere in the middle of an actual fic 😂 but more often it instead is “this would be a fun situation to throw them into; let’s see what happens!”). That’s as close as I’ll get to an outline 😳

I’ll often also make a series of notes as I’m writing, again of the same types of things as in the “plan,” plus dialogue and details, as a sort of “living outline” for what’s next/coming up. But nothing formal or well-structured (which does make it harder to do those bigger stories, naturally). I have hated outlines since elementary school, so…

I’ll diverge from what I have “planned” any time I have an idea I really like or think will improve the story, although to my recollection it rarely happens, and when it does it’s more small changes. I’m much more likely to split “planned” chapters and make a fic 4x longer than I originally thought it would be 😂

So, needless to say, I mostly write what comes to mind. Sometimes that’s filling in the big blank spaces between things I know I want to include, and sometimes that’s deciding where the whole story itself will go. (My mind is wont to come up with crazy twists and tangents #this is the way my mind works 😂)

55. do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

I don’t think I have any WIPs that I’ve started writing that I never intend to come back to/finish. I have an entire laundry list of WIPs that I have not written on in months or years, though.

My story as a current fanfic author goes like this:

Started writing Have At Least One Totally Epic Love in spring 2020, ran out of steam/got stuck near the pivotal moments.

Had an idea for After Ten Long Years and started writing it to try to work through that block, but got stuck on it.

Had an idea for Old West Hosie; started writing it to work around that block, then got stuck on it, too.

Had an idea for Hosie Alternate Realities; started writing it to work around that block, then got stuck there, also 😳

[Cue Hope Mikaelson: “Love, Lose, Grieve, repeat”]

At some point in there, I wrote the first one-shot in the Tales from the Salvatore Kitchen series, You Complete Me, to break the cycle and publish something, which turned into 3 more seasonal one-shots (initially), and then I finally finished Have At Least One Totally Epic Love, almost exactly 1 year after I had left off. 2021 I think was a pretty good year, lots of shorter works finished, but also several more big works started where I once again ran out of steam/got stuck/got distracted by the shiny new idea 😂

(Also, after the experience with Have At Least One Totally Epic Love, I rarely actually write and publish things serially unless I have a really, really good idea of the scope of the fic and also know I’ll have decent amounts of writing time—so there’s nothing out there that readers would perceive of as abandoned. The biggest example of a fic I’ve written and published serially since HALOTEL is And I Will Always Love You, 8 chapters, 32K words, written from February to May.)

So approaching 200K words of incomplete WIPs now, but nothing I intend never to finish.

Thanks for asking! Lots of great choices 😀 Hopefully I didn’t bore you to sleep with the answers!

[suzyq31]

Found Update and Note

I updated Found with the last bit of writing I did on this story. I've also included a note that I'll copy at the bottom of this post. The image below is from one of the films that has inspired me (Aftersun, cannot recommend it enough, but be prepared to sob). So this story is now officerly on hiatus, and I have no plans to share publicly moving forward. If we are mutuals on here, please don't fret. I'll find a way to share with you when it's done ❤️

Hi,

I’ve been posting a note with my updates. If you’ve missed it, you can read it here. This update and this note are a little different.

Back in August a reader reached out to me on tumblr and shared some of what was being said about this story on discord. Since then I’ve done my best to ignore the queasy feeling whenever I update. Sharing your work can feel daunting, especially when you know that people are waiting to find plot holes, criticize your character's choices to the point of making fun of it etc. There’s no joy when you have that hanging over your head. I started this story solely for my own enjoyment, and to challenge myself, and I miss that.

I want to listen to my gut feeling—which is that I won’t finish this story unless I take it back for myself. And I really want to finish it. I’ve watched some amazing films recently with 11 year old protagonists, and it’s stirred up my desire to reconnect with this story. But in order to do this I have to pull back from sharing, which is why I have decided I won’t be continuing on Ao3. I didn't want to just leave a note, which is why I have included the first half of Chapter 18, the rest is still in draft form as I've lost all momentum and the negativity just made me doubt every choice/idea.

I’m aware that there are far more lovely readers than those who like to tear apart others' work in public spaces, which is why I wanted to take my time with this decision. Also it’s not about punishing anyone and I don’t want this to come across as being done in anger. There are more important causes to focus that energy on. Instead this is about being honest. Words shared in those spaces do impact writers, and from what I’ve been hearing from readers, it affects them too. I don’t have power over how people choose to show up and engage in this fandom. What I can control is my own actions and decisions. I’m working hard on trusting myself more, now and in the future. So I give myself grace if future me ever feels differently, I trust her. For now, this is what feels right.

For those readers I've connected with over the years, I hope that I’ll find a way to share this privately whenever it’s done, even if it’s missing some scenes and not as polished as I normally aim for. I have as much desire to start a discord group, as I do having my soul sucked out by a dementor, so I really haven’t come up with a solution on how to share this other than maybe through DMs at some point in the (likely far) future.

Alright, this is kind of a bummer of a post, and I’m sorry to let anyone down. But I’m no longer prioritizing other people’s feelings over my own needs. Something that is hard when you’ve been a lifelong people pleaser.

I hope this can leave on a more positive note. If you want fandom to feel like a kinder place, make it one! The smallest step but also the most meaningful is commenting on more stories. Especially if they don’t have many comments, or if it’s an author’s first story and you want to encourage them. I know it would probably make their day. I’ll link the Harmony Directory as there are so many great stories to choose from.

All the best, Suzy

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 14: Part of The Group (All Along)

Summary: And then something strange happens – the replacements arrive.

A/N: My wifi has been out and shows no signs of being repaired any time soon. Ergo, I'm posting this in kind of a rush, so any mistakes will be fixed when I have access to a connection for longer. See y'all at the end of the semester 🫡💕🕊️

Warnings: language, smoking

Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs @ithinkabouttzu

England, 1944

For once, Zenie finds that she doesn’t want to be alone with Shifty. Zenie isn’t anywhere that Shifty is and is everywhere that he isn’t. She carefully plans and coordinates her movements so that they’re never alone. They’re only together in groups, or with at least one other person, like Earl or Skinny. When she can’t guarantee that they won’t be left alone together, she sticks closer to Bill than ever. Suo fratellino? More like la sua ombra – his shadow. 

All the careful planning, the cautiously choreographed movements . . . It makes her feel like she’s back in the mountains, trying to move between home and the diner with the least amount of interaction with the man downstairs in front of the radio. The realization makes her feel icky. One day she will never feel repulsed by interacting with a man again.

And then something strange happens – the replacements arrive.

She hears him before she sees him. Luz must notice it too, because they both pause in their game of cards, their eyes flickering toward the loud laughter coming from a small group of unfamiliars. One loud laugh rings out above them all. And it sounds . . . familiar.

“Ah Christ, don’t tell me there’s two of them,” George mutters.

The laugh sounds a lot like Bill’s. And when the replacement steps into view, he even walks like Bill – that confident swagger that’s hard and breezy all at once. He’s got a bright smile that’s almost as bright as his hair. He and the other replacements offer Zenie and George a respectful nod as they pass, and Zenie finds herself smiling back at him.

“What do you think?” Luz asks.

Zenie shrugs, slapping down her next card to resume their game. “I dunno. They’re paratroopers, same as us.”

“Yeah. Same as us.” The replacements look younger and cheerier than everyone who made it through the jump into France. Neither of them says anything about it. Then, or later when they tell Bill that they think they’ve found one of his own. The news only makes him smile.

“From Philly, huh? Well then, he must be pretty tough. We’re in good hands.” For the first time in a while, his smile actually reaches his eyes. 

The papers in her jacket pocket crinkle as she moves. Sitting on the bed, pulling on her boots, she can’t decide if she should put them with the rest of her belongings before she goes. What’s the point of carrying them around? She’s stared at them for the better part of the day and hasn’t gotten anywhere with putting her thoughts onto the page. It’s not like inspiration is suddenly going to strike while she’s at dinner, forcing her to pull out a pencil and jot down her feelings while the rest of the company happily chatters around her.

A letter from Bobby was waiting for her when she got back from France. Somewhere between Dear Tommy and the usual updates on life back home, Bobby had changed his tone. Something has happened with your family, he wrote. I would tell you, but at the same time, I don’t want to hurt your morale. So I’ll leave it up to you – do you want to know?

Dear Bobby, of course I want to know, I left them, but they’re my family and I want them to be okay and please tell me, please tell me, please tell me that my mother is okay and that it’s not her – she doesn’t write. Of course she wants to know. She wants to know that her mother, her brother, her sister, are all okay. She just has to find a way not to pour her desperation onto the page, because she knows Bobby, and the last thing she wants is for him to think that he’s damaged her morale. Any eager words that pour from her heart and her pen are the product of a young girl’s own romantic folly, not the bruised determination of a soldier.

At least the other paper in her pocket has a beginning. Dear Mama. She’s not sure what to say beyond that. Everything felt so certain before coming back to England. Before that night at the brothel. (She’s faced with the uncomfortable realization that if she was mistaken about Shifty, there may be more that she’s gotten very wrong. She tries not to think about it too much.)

Thump! Toye hops off his bunk and straightens his tie. “Ready?”

Zenie finishes lacing up her boots and then shoves the papers under her pillow so she won’t have to think about them until they return to the stables tonight; out of sight, out of mind. She tries for a smile.

“Ready.” 

Ten feet tall and bulletproof, Shifty had once said to describe the feeling their uniforms gave them. With her jump wings and her unit citation medal pinned to her jacket, Zenie can’t help but agree. Even the replacements have them, but looking around, anyone can tell who made it through Normandy – they’re all swaggering around like they own the place, looking down their noses at the new guys and shooting each other cocky grins a mile wide. This must have been what Matthew and his friends felt like when they strutted around in their uniforms after baseball games with adoring girls on their arms.

The room is falling quiet for Smokey just as Zenie slides onto the bench at the table that Luz, Bill, Skip Muck, and Jonny Martin are occupying.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Skip chirps. “You busy polishing those jump wings, Tommy?”

“Nah, he was probably busy with his hair.” Zenie manages to duck as Luz tries to ruffle her dark locks. She misses her hair. And, for the record, she does not take as much time on it as Luz has started claiming that she does. There’s just something comforting in knowing that she can take care of it. It reminds her of how Marilyn used to help her pin it up over night so that she could have curls for school the next day.

“You’re just jealous that girls like running their hands through mine more than yours.” He’s so shocked by the comeback that Zenie manages to mess up his hair while he’s frozen.

Laughter breaks out around them at whatever Smokey is saying from the front of the room. She’s missed something.

She’s not the only one, though. From the table behind her, she hears a frustrated voice ask, “Do you guys have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“Hey,” Zenie lowers her voice and uses her lips to point behind Bill’s head. “That’s the guy I was telling you about. With the red hair.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him around,” Skip agrees. “Heffron, I think.”

Bill takes a drag from his cigarette before glancing over his shoulder. He exhales smoke when he asks, “And ya think this kid is from Philly?”

“Positive,” Luz confirms. “There’s no mistaking that laugh.”

“Or that walk,” Zenie adds.

As if on cue, the redhead stands, resting his glass on the table with a thump. “Should be heading back to barracks.”

The second that he starts to turn he finds himself stopped by Bill’s hand on his chest, holding him in place. It’s so sudden that the replacement barely has time to cast an indignant glance down at the hand on his chest – which has sprinkled a few ashes from the cigarette its holding onto his tie – and the rest of their table doesn’t have a chance to register what’s happening. Is this an act of aggression?

“You Heffron?”

“Yeah.”

The pressure in the table’s atmosphere deflates. The fight leaves all the men watching the interaction. No need to jump into a fray tonight.

“Where you from?” Bill wants to know.

“Who’s askin’?”

“From Philadelphia?”

“South Philly, yeah.”

Even facing away from her, Zenie can hear the smirk in Bill’s voice when he removes his hand from Heffron’s chest. “I could tell.”

The replacement stares at him, puzzled. Bill’s friends might have relaxed, knowing that their friend isn’t out for a fight, but this boy hasn’t quite figured it out yet.

Bill gestures towards himself. “Seventeenth street.”

Now the replacement lights up. It’s such a quick change that it’s almost startling, how this boy can go from eyeing someone taller than him as he prepares for a fight to pumping his hand in a firm shake with a smile that’s a mile wide. And it doesn’t seem fake, like some of the men – like it’s for show. He really does seem happy to have found someone like himself when he exclaims, “Front street!”

Zenie knows how he feels because that’s how she felt the first time she noticed Shifty. In an unfamiliar place she had heard him mutter in Cherokee and something about knowing they were the same made her feel at home. Thinking about it now, she feels the hard sourness of unprocessed emotions lodge in her throat, sticking together in a big lump that makes it hard to swallow.

Bill jerks his head toward the table at the place across from him, motioning for the redhead to join them. He doesn’t seem to notice that this displaces Luz, Zenie, and Skip, who all have to scoot down the bench to make room for him. “Here, sit down.”

“You see that?” Skip asks as they move. “Guys been here a couple of seconds, and already he’s got a non-com telling us to make room for him!”

“Hey, Bill!” Zenie leans across Luz and takes a swipe at her friend. “You gonna bother introducing us to your new pal? Or should we just get on with replacing you?”

Bill laughs, stopping halfway through one of his questions about who he and Heffron may or may not both know. He uses his cigarette to point out other people at the table.

“Skip Muck from New York. George Luz from Rhode Island. Tommy Driver from North Carolina. And Joe Toye is around here somewhere. He’s from Pennsylvania, too, but not Philly.”

Heffron nods at them each in turn, smiling. “Hey, how ya doin’?”

A lot of the replacements that she’s seen so far seem . . . unprepared. Woefully so. All bright eyed and big mouthed. Maybe it’s the air of confidence mixed with street smarts that Heffron carries with him, but something about him is decidedly different. He’s more serious, somehow, than most of the others. Everyone else must sense it too, because before long he’s joking around with everyone else at the table and he acclimates so well that he could have been part of the group all along.

Smokey finishes whatever he’s been saying and the room bursts into applause and cheers. Zenie claps along automatically, not really sure what she’s cheering for and not really wanting to stop watching Bill and Heffron toss banter back and forth like a volleyball.

“I could have shot the kid a dozen times!” Talbert announces from somewhere behind her. Oh, so they’re talking about that – the Night of the Bayonet. It makes Zenie wince to think about what happened to him, and how easily it might have been any one of them – could have been her. The cries for a medic had come while Doc Roe was in the foxhole she and Bill were sharing. It feels so long ago now, yet never too distant.

Talbert doesn’t seem all that torn up about it, though. Laughs follow when he proclaims, “I just didn’t think we could spare a man.”

Heffron catches her eye and tilts his head, puzzled. “What is he talkin’ about?”

“The Night of – “

“The Bayonet. Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps sayin’, but what does it mean?”

“Smith stabbed him on accident back in France. Thought he was a Kraut.”

Heffron winces in sympathy. “Ouch.”

“All right, listen up men! A couple of announcements.” Lipton says, ending all the laughter as he steps to the front of the room. “First – listen up! The training exercise scheduled for twenty-two hundred . . . has been cancelled.”

Loud applause breaks out again, and Lipton holds up his hand to quiet them. “Secondly, all passes are hereby revoked.” There’s a brief pause where the mood of the room plummets. He rushes on before it can fall too far. “We’re heading back to France. So pack up all your gear. We will not be returning to England, boys.”

He says more that Zenie doesn’t really hear. Not returning to England. It feels like they just got there!

They all sit, waiting, unsure of what to do. In the end, it’s Bill – ever the leader – who puts out his cigarette and stands with a sigh.

“Well boys, we best get goin’. Looks like it’s up to the Airborne to go fend off the Krauts.”

[modern-oedipus]

Hey , i just want know are you okey ? Are you alive ? Because youre not been here for a long time and i just wonder . Loveyou <3 <3

Hello! Thank you for checking up on me! I am doing well. I shifted my focus from the online platforms to different priorities, so I am not checking my social media as often, but I am really doing great! I’m also here with good news that I want to accounce while responding to this ask:

I am writing Conflict!

Important parts of previous chapters are being rewritten, polished and edited for a better reading experience. Chapter 20 is on the way!

I have been working on it for last two weeks by now! I wanted to post the new chapter on Norman’s birthday, but reviewing the previous chapters take way longer than I anticipated. I am also adding some author’s notes to update about what I changed in the fic or how I am feeling compared to then-vs-now! I am putting more emphasis on the trigger warnings as well!

Right now I am editing chapter 11. I am directly editing on AO3 and posting whatever progress is done, then I go back to it, so if you check the chapters you may come across to live-time edits! As I explained in detail at the author’s notes of Chapter 1, I don’t aim to edit or rewrite the whole story; doing that would be against the fic’s soul and it wouldn’t feel the same anymore. I’m just doing some reconstruction work, I am trying to keep my writing style as it was back in 2019, add some details and in-depth descriptions of some scenes, explain the little plot holes, fix the formatting issues, etc. I am doing this both to remember the story better before writing Chapter 20 and so on (Chapter 20 is not the final chapter, so I am thinking about giving more regular updates since I am getting my momentum back) and to confront the times I was writing it.

I kept back from announcing it here and just silently edited it, though a reader realized it on first day and commented on Chapter 1 and I felt the happiest to know that they were still here! I am going to reply back to the comments I received within 1 year, as well!

My plan is to finish editing and reviewing all of the chapters 1-19. Then I am going to make a full Google Drive doc with detailed, spoiler-containing Trigger Warning for each chapter. Then I’ll publish Chapter 20. After that, I’ll respond to the comments. I think after all of this long and tedious committed work, I can just keep updating regularly. That’s the plan if it all goes well!

On a good note! I am also adding Chapter Songs! Those are the songs I used to listen while I was writing Conflict. I really thought they are fitting to certain chapters. I didn’t write any chapters with a specific song on my mind, in fact, I discovered those songs for Conflict aesthetic instead, but either way they are really fitting! So I am editing and updating as I go, to the songs I find relevant.

Reconstruction of chapters 1-10 is complete and I am consistently working on the next ones, so if you want please check it out! ❤️

On a side note, I am aware that it has been sooooo long, so I wasn’t really expecting anyone except for a few people I know in-person, to read Conflict again! I mean, I am not even offended or anything, most of us have sort of moved on from hyperfixations we had back in 2019, myself included. But I have my personal reasons to go back to checking Conflict. On the day I started editing, I was telling myself, “It is okay if no one notices. I don’t even want to make an announcement. I’ll just quickly take a tour on AO3.” but I received a comment on it on the morning of it, despite not making a single announcement! It just… made me happy beyonds words can express.

I don’t know if I would go so far in editing/rewriting if I did not KNOW for the fact that, some people are definitely interested! I know that because they went out of their way to let me know! All the comments I have been receiving within this year, all the asks, dm-s, everything summed up and gave me the Courage to keep writing.

So, once again. Thank you. All of you. I’m looking forward to enjoying the ride with you! ❤️

[bvannn]

Weekly Update May 10, 2024

Today was a bad day but the rest of the week was decent all things considered. I got an okay amount of work done, but I’m still really exhausted from school. It might take a bit longer to rest but I’m still trying to do stuff because I’m addicted to work.

Main thing this week was comic work, I’d say I’m 14% done, planning to be better and faster once I’m better rested, I’m going to try to do all panels on the same layer as opposed to a billion layers like before, see if it speeds things up. I’m pretty confident in the story and want to get to writing more but that’s not as high a priority as some other projects.

Music video work, OEB is about 30% boarded, it’s very exhausting to do because of adobe’s interface but it still gets done well enough when I’m in a good mood. I wanted to get making a puppet rig this week, hoping it’d go faster now that I know what I’m doing, especially since I’ve gotten basic ones done faster, but again didn’t have time due to body needing to rest and personal problems. I’ll try again next week, since it looks like work is taking longer than expected to get started back up. I’m also a lot better at rig animation in general now so it should be quicker to do too.

Other music projects, I’m very close to done on one of the two lyric batches so I’ll try to get that done this next week. I’d like to finish off the other one too but I’m very slow. Once my body is rested up enough for my brain to really work those will be the priority, then I’d like to do more. I’ll probably do another cover or so before anything else but I’d really like to do songs based around my OC stories, and maybe I will. At the very least attempting will be a nice exercise.

Other general drawings, I’m trying to figure out when I’ll have time to do more. I’m taking a fair amount of time on each of those now, which sucks since I’ll have to up my comm prices, but I don’t want to push for those until I know exactly how much to change the prices by. I’m not a professional so I don’t want to charge like one.

Anime Campaign stuff: writing my own campaign still, got a huge bite of that done, but not the part I would have wanted. Planning on seven ‘Episodes’, 1, 2, 3, and now 5 are done. I might iron out some kinks with episode 1 but I really want to get episode 4 done before anything else. Might still get some tokens done, but I don’t want to post too many, since ideally I’d like to release my campaign as a prewritten module for free, then offer the maps and tokens as a paid optional add on. Maybe. Either way I need to focus on writing more than I have been, I’ll try to use my insomnia for that.

Minor bits and bobs, music writing impulse is coming back so I’d like to make or finish a little smaller tune, but again that relies on time and OEB and comic are taking priority. If I get BMBO or BATB lyrics done I’ll get tuning a VSQX (or whatever they’re called in vocaloid 5/6) and pass that so we can figure out which voice to use and any tweaks that need to be made. If BMBO is done before BATB I might look into typography animation to see if I can throw together a video for that, since that’ll be less effort than a full video. I’m also always tempted to do a bazillion covers, but I’m not really working towards any actively. The ones I’m debating would be called SSCS, ILMC, LIS or S (again going by initials or partial initials to not say too much). I did a basic VSQX for SSCS but mostly just to test how a certain voice tuned, and I know who I want to sing it but I don’t know what to do with the instruments so I’m not planning to work on it unless inspiration really hits. I have so much desire to do things and not enough body power!

Next week priority will be comic again, I have 4 pages done and one sketched, I’ll be maybe staying up late on Sunday again so I can get a big bite done then if I’m somehow unable tomorrow. OEB is next priority, alongside lyric writing, header/newgrounds collab, then AC writing and token practice. Thanks everyone for being so patient with me not posting much, I’m so sorry I’m so slow to work on bigger projects but I really hope they’re worth it.