#most of these were written well before posting but now I've finally gotten around to sharing them with y'all

[giggly-squiggily]

Amazing, Showstopping, Glamorous Blue Lock Headcanons That Are Definitely True Ego Told Me So #3

I have no excuse for this I just wanna yell about the boys

-Barou watches Bluey. He claims it's because of his two sisters but really he finds it incredibly comforting. His favorite character is Muffin (His favorite quote is "Muffin, NO!") If you call him out on it he'll get all embarrassed and claim it's for babies. This doesn't really change even after Isagi told him he watches it too- but he's not nearly as flustered post that.

- Chigiri sleeps like the dead. He gets up fine in the morning, but any time between then and bedtime he’s unmovable. The world could be ending and every catastrophe ever could be going down and he’ll just roll over and carry on snoring.

- Rin won't ever admit it, but he has such a soft spot for Bachira. The little gremlin wormed his way into his heart without any warning and- if you pay close enough attention, it shows. "This is gross, you take it" He'd say as he trades a meal with Bachira knowing the smaller boy loves it. "I only picked him because he's useful" after reuniting him with Isagi. "You're embarrassing. I guess I can teach you." He'd say while tutoring Bachira in English even AFTER he said he wouldn't.

-Reo's amazing at doing hair. Sometimes he'll force Chigiri to sit down so he could do his braid for him (it always looks amazing) claiming "You take forever. I'm doing it." But really he just wants to talk with the redhead about whatever (50% He's venting about Nagi, 50% it's everything from K-Drama's he's into, Team V shenanigans to various other topics). Chigiri can't fight him on it- and even if he could, he rather enjoys Reo doing his hair for him- plus he's really entertaining the way he tells stories.

- For the longest time, Nagi thought Half-Baked ice cream meant it was baked halfway in the oven before frozen. One time he got a craving and wanted some, but only had vanilla. And a microwave. Chigiri and Barou came back to find a burnt mess of ice cream in the microwave and a shamed Nagi.

-Despite his last name meaning "Happy Bee", Bachira has a strong dislike for the buzzing insects. Some say he was stung a lot as a kid, others say he might be allergic. Really though- Bachira doesn't like them cause one day he had a slushy and they got into his drink. He's never recovered since. He doesn't mind it when Isagi calls him "Bumble Bee" though. (Credit to you friend- you know who you are :D)

-Aryu's terrified of seagulls. Not only are they "So not glam" but they insist on attacking him any time he goes to the beach. (When he poses, his hair somehow catches one). He's also terrified of birds period- if one gets too close you can expect to hear him squawk and run for safety.

-Niko and Isagi have movie nights. They aren't much of a set up- Niko gets his phone back, Isagi somewhat convinces Karasu to share some of his "Snack Stash", and the two get comfy around the small screen watching whatever anime they're addicted to at the moment. They also break into song alot whenever an opening slaps. (May or may not have been told to "SHUT THE F*CK UP" by their teammates a few times).

-Hiori smiled at Rin once. It was so effective on him Rin walked straight into the doorframe of one of the sliding doors. Unfortunately for him Bachira and Isagi witnessed it and will never let him live it down. (They become his little statue muses like in Hercules- "It's okay, your in lo-" "Finish that sentence and I'll strangle you with your own shoelaces.")

-Bachira is very cuddly; he'll walk up to whomever and just wrap his arms around them from behind. He especially does this to Isagi whenever the other boy is trying to explain his spacial awareness or whatever. It's a 50/50 shot on whether he'll simply hug him or he'll start tickling him mid conversation- forcing Isagi to laugh so hard he can't finish the sentence.

-Gagamaru tends to put his whole face into whatever he's looking at. If you show him something on your phone he'll lean in so he's inches from it. Some figured he's nearsighted and needs glasses, but really it's just one of Gagamaru's many quirks.

-Someone once told Tokimitsu he radiated "Kirby energy". He didn't know what that meant but when he told his teammates Rin kinda gave him a once over and said: "Accurate." To this day Tokimitsu still doesn't get what that means.

-Kunigami hates horror movies; Chigiri lives for them. 50% of their movie nights consist of the hero hiding behind him while Chigiri snickers at the antics going onscreen.

[silverpetrichor]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

A/N: I know I’ve been MIA but the mania surrounding Gravity Falls right now has awoken me from my slumber. I’ve had a huge crush on Ford since I got into the series during the pandemic and I just had to write this.(I've also never written smut before so please forgive me if it's cringe.) I’ve never written him before, so forgive me if he’s a little (or a lot) OOC. As always constructive criticism is welcome and please enjoy! 

Last Summer. . .

You were helping your brother cook dinner for his heavily pregnant wife and 2 kids. Laughing and joking as your younger brother arrived with his husband, wine and dessert. It was shaping up to be another ordinary evening hanging out with your family when you got the call. 

Next thing you know you’re hugging your loved ones goodbye before opening a portal to the outskirts of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Staring up at the darkness enveloping the town that you’d only heard of in passing, watching on in horror before assisting the others in reinforcing the natural barriers around the town to keep it from spreading…  

“—Y/n! Earth to Y/n! Are you okay?” Your coworker asked as you looked up from where you had zoned out while shelving the new books.  

“Yeah? I um, I’m fine really. Just lost in thought for a second.” you respond. 

“Oh, okay. Well, I was just trying to tell you that it’s lunch time,” Tracy said, smiling up at you. 

You tilted your head to the side, brows furrowing “Geez, already?” you looked at your watch, and low and behold it was noon already.  

You cast one more glance to the book still in your hand, a post apocalyptic romance who’s cover had evoked memories of the centralized apocalypse that had taken place last summer in the seemingly innocuous town. You recall arguing with the council about actually getting involved and helping the town instead of just doing damage control. You didn’t like the stances they often took, and were preparing to go in despite their decision when all of a sudden the oppressive feeling of Bill’s presence vanished and with it your need to be there, standing sentry. 

Or, so you thought. Now, you have moved from the hustle and bustle of New York City to the quiet and peculiar little town of Gravity Falls. All because you dared to go against the council and nearly disobeyed them, you were now stuck as a librarian here indefinitely. Merely monitoring the situation and living in a cottage not too far from the Mystery Shack, hidden by magic and finally inhabited again after decades of going unused after the last council assigned witch moved.

You shook your head as if shaking off your thoughts, shelving the book in your hand and heading to the breakroom in the back where your homemade lunch sat in the fridge. 

You ate your lunch with Tracy in relative silence letting her do most of the talking. She was a sweet woman who was a few years older than you, in her early forties married with three rambunctious kids. She was also very talkative, which you didn’t mind despite being more introverted yourself. 

You never liked the quiet anyway, ironically enough even though you had moved out to a cottage in the woods, you always had music or something playing. You’d even gotten a fluffy pet cat a week before who moved out here who you dubbed Lady Arson the III. 

You’d actually grown fond of this little town despite being a city girl, this town had its own unique charm. Even though you had to chase some gnomes out and renew the old wards on the old cottage. (Thank the stars you had a magical ingredients supplier for the unicorn hair you needed. Unicorns are such stuck up assholes and if you never had to interact with one again it’d be too soon) You had redecorated the cottage and made it your own. You also found a nearby lake to go swimming in relative peace during the spring and summer.  

You talked for a while with Tracy as you found yourself having a bit of fun. While you missed the city there were plenty of things and people that made it worth it. Like your crush on your friend Ford Pines. . . 

He came to the library every other day or so in the afternoon sitting in the back alcove reading and writing in a journal with weathered pages. You’d actually managed to strike up a rapport with the man instead of hopelessly pining after him in silence. (Which you still did but you felt less pathetic when your hands would wander late at night when you couldn’t sleep)  

And, speaking of the devil, Ford was present with his teenage niece and nephew Mabel and Dipper. You found them in the back of the library searching the shelves for a book as you came around the corner to reshelve the last of the book on your cart. 

“Good afternoon Y/n!” Mabel excitedly stated, having noticed you first as her brother and grunkle were absorbed in searching the shelves. 

“Afternoon Pines family, what trouble have you gotten into today?” You greeted and asked, taking in their disheveled appearances as you raised a brow. 

“We were exercising a category five ghost in the woods near Fiddleford’s mansion when we encountered a hostile gremloblin!” Mable replied as her and Dipper shuddered in unison. 

You scanned them for injuries upon hearing this, before asking if they were okay. They nodded their assent before Mabel leaned in and whispered “But I’m pretty sure Grunkle Ford has a concussion or something.” 

Your eyebrows raise as you release your hold on the cart you’d been pushing. You tap Ford’s shoulder and he turns around, rather quickly almost stumbling. As he does you notice the gash on his forehead covered in Hello Kitty bandaids, that are clearly Mable’s work. But despite that you still see some red on the gauze the two bandaids are holding down. 

“Hello, beaut—I mean Y/n!” clears throat, while rubbing his head with his free hand, “How are you doing today?” Ford asks awkwardly, blushing. 

“Certainly better than you, you’re bleeding! Come with me.” You say, grabbing Ford’s hand after seeing the slightly dazed and unfocused look in his eyes and the bloody gauze on his hand. 

You pull him to the breakroom, the twins following. Ford huffing and blushing even harder at you holding his hand. You sit him at the table as the twins walk over to the vending machine drawn to the candy and chips in it respectively. 

You wash your hands quickly before going to bend and look under the sink and after a minute or two of rummaging around, pull out the new first aid kit that you’d brought to replace the old barely full one. Ford’s head tilts and his eyebrows raise as he mentally thanks the infinite cosmos for pencil skirts and the fact that you seem to love to wear them. 

When you stand straight he guiltily turns his head to the side, finding interest in the fake foliage and book themed posters hanging about. You raise a brow at his odd behavior, chalking it up to his concussion and head over after smoothing out your black pencil skirt. You walk over, heels clicking on the linoleum floor as you take off your colorful blazer before rolling up your white blouse sleeves.  

You open up the first aid kit with practiced efficiency after laying out a piece of paper towel from the roll in the middle of the table. You sanitize your hands quickly with an alcohol wipe before you gently pull the Hello Kitty bandages and gauze off his forehead. Apologizing quietly as Ford winces still, you move to grab the alcohol. You end up muttering another apology as he winces whilst you dab at the slightly deep cut with a soaked cotton ball.  

Ford’s face stays flushed as he realizes how close your chest is to his face. Trying his best to not make it obvious that he’s staring at you in that way. His eyes flicker to your face, focusing on how cute you look with your face scrunched up in concentration as you gently dab.   

While Ford struggles to be covert about his feelings you seem to be fairing slightly better with a barely there flush to your face. You place butterfly bandages on his forehead after dropping the alcohol soaked cotton ball onto the paper towel. 

You then gently grab his hand before unraveling the gauze, and dabbing at the cut with another alcohol soaked cotton ball. 

Mabel looks over, noticing the look in each other's eyes and Ford’s blushing face. A smirk falling over her face as she realizes what is happening, nodding to herself.

“Matchmaking time!” she whispers under breath before choking on a gummy kola. 

Dipper rolls his eyes as he slaps her back, the gummy kola flying out her mouth. Of which, she promptly picks up off the floor and eats much to Dipper's disgust. 

“So…Y/n huh? Do you. . .like her?” Mabel asks Ford as they leave the library, raising her eyebrows and smirking. 

Ford chuckles nervously, blushing furiously “What? I, I uh. . I have no idea what you’re talking about!!” He says, eyes shifting about nervously. 

“ Oh my gosh! Yes you do!! You love her! Love, love, love her!!” Mabel yelled, jumping up and down around him as the trio walked back to the Mystery Shack.   

“And I thought I sucked at hiding my feelings.” Dipper nudged Ford, laughing. 

Ford sighed, scratching the back of his neck as he nodded in defeat before telling Mabel to quiet herself despite no one being near. 

“Yes, I am very fond of Y/n. I find her to be endearing and enchanting in everything she does,” Ford muttered as he nervously laughed. 

“Well then Grunkle Ford, you should ask her out!! All the other blind dates I've tried to set her up on went nowhere!!” Mabel said as she skipped backwards in front of him and Dipper.  

“I don't know, I mean, aren't I too old for her? And I haven't really had any sort of  relationship in a while.” Ford muttered as the Mystery Shack came into view.  

“Trust me, Grunkle Ford! You got this! She's into nerd stuff like DD&MD! She's a librarian and she’s a historian!! And she likes listening to you rant about your research! Plus she's beautiful! It doesn't get any better than her!!” Mabel yelled as they sat on the couch outside the shack. 

“Yeah, in fact I know just what I need to do!!” Ford declared as he grabbed a graph journal full of blueprints for inventions out of one of his trenchcoat inner pockets.  

****** 

“This was a terrible idea,” Ford whispered as he hid from Flirt B0t 3000.  

“Wow, really who would've thought a robot built for romance would've been a terrible idea? Let's see, uh everyone!” Dipper harshly whispered back. 

“This is Giffany all over again,” Mabel sighs as she hands Ford her compact so he can check around the corner for Flirt B0t 3000. 

As he did so, the robot's half melted face snapped in their direction, its intact eye rolling to look at him through the mirror. 

“When I say run, you run as far and fast as your legs can take you and don’t look back,” Ford harshly whispers, tightening his grip on his gun. 

“But Grunkle Ford!! We can help!” Dipper responds as he clutches a crossbow in his hand. After Weirdmageddon, he’d asked Wendy to teach him how to use one. 

Before Ford could argue further, Stan came around the corner baseball bat in hand. “Take this you stupid robot!!” He screamed swinging his baseball bat, just as Flirt B0t 3000’s head turned to face him. 

It’s head flies clear off, Dipper shooting it with his crossbow as it flies in front of him. Stan beat the headless body repeatedly until it stopped twitching and was nothing but a pile of mangled metal and wires. 

“Grunkle Stan!! How’d you know we needed help?” Mabel asked as she ran up to him, hugging him. 

Stan let out a small “oof” upon impact before explaining “Well, when Ford mentioned making a robot to practice asking out Y/n with and then none of you picked up the phone when I called, I figured it went horribly wrong. And would you look at that, I was right!” Stan kicked the robot's remains once more.   

“Thank you Grunkle Stan!! But did you see that shot!?” Dipper asked, laughing. 

“Sure did kid! Wendy's one hel-heck of a teacher ain't she?” He asked, giving Dipper a noogie. 

“Yeah!” Dipper agreed, grunting as he tried to get out of his head lock.

Stan released him before walking over to Ford and popping him upside the head. 

“What was that for Stanley?” Ford cried out rubbing the back of his head. 

“You know for someone so smart you sure can be a real dumbass sometimes. I may not be the best at romance or reading signals but even I can tell that you and her like each other. So for God's sake just ask her out already!” Stan harshly whispered to Ford as he gave him a hug. 

“Yeah, you're right. I mean the worst she can say is no right? Oh God what if she says no? I don't think I can do this!” Ford panicked, pacing. 

“Look Poindexter! You got this, you're the total package, even with those sideburns! Just take a deep breath and go ask her out before you lose your nerve,” Stan said, nudging Ford.

Ford ran out of his laboratory in the basement and headed for the library. 

“Ten bucks says he chickens out,” Stan says, waving at Ford's retreating figure. 

The young twins sigh in unison, shaking their heads at Stan's antics. 

******

Since Ford had awkwardly asked you out that first time a little over a month ago, you’d been spending almost all of your time together. Flowers from Ford littered your cottage and desk at work, and Ford would often have smudges of your dark red lipstick on his face. Even Lady Arson the III approved of him, and she never seemed to like any of your dates. You were both falling hard and fast for one another. 

But you still hadn’t told him about the whole you being a witch thing. Afraid of losing him, even if he was a lover of the supernatural you didn’t know if he still would, once you tell him the truth. You haven’t felt this way about someone since college. But every time you thought about telling him, you chickened out. 

Tonight though, you were going to have a picnic on the hill near your cottage and Ford was going to bring a telescope so you could stargaze. After mentioning to him how you loved astronomy but only ever got to see the stars in textbooks and online since you grew up in New York.  

You hoped nothing paranormal would interrupt your date, seeing as you were planning on finally telling him about your powers maybe. But of course, you just had to say it out loud. 

And well, now here you are in your cute floral sundress and cardigan fighting a very hostile spirit after it had attacked you and Ford while you were skipping stones at the nearby lake. Ford almost cracked his head on the rocks when he stumbled back in shock, at hearing the haunting childlike laughter reaching into his trench coat for holy water.  The category four spirit took this as an opportunity to attack, its cute face morphing into that of horror as it rushed towards the two of you.   

But then much to his surprise, you shoved him behind you before raising your hands and suddenly it slammed against a forcefield you had seemingly created if your glowing hands were any indication. Then a blast of blue light emanated from your open raised palms and the spirit froze before evaporating into thin air.

You sighed in relief before lowering your hands and wiping your brow. You then turned and began kissing Ford's face, pecking all about after you checked him over for injuries.You finally pull away when you feel satisfied with Ford’s blushing disposition. 

“Thank the stars you're okay! I can't believe we stumbled upon a hostile spirit all the way out here. My wards and presence usually keep stuff like this from happening,” you said sighing deeply. 

Ford stuttered his brain attempting to reboot after seeing you use your powers and you kissing his face so much,”Your wards, as in magic? Magic that I just saw you use. Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned as she paced in front of him, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Well, I—” you cut yourself off sighing deeply. “My being a witch isn’t exactly an ice breaker that I bring up on dates. You know how I haven’t had a serious relationship since college? It ended when she found out I was a witch and since then I just have gotten used to hiding that side of myself from anyone that didn’t already know. So yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I just didn’t want to scare you off because I’m falling for you and I think I might actually even be in love with yo—” Ford cuts you off, grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you passionately. 

You stutter, before humming into the kiss. Cupping his face in your hands as one of his hands makes its way to your waist.  You have matching goofy smiles as you pull away for breath resting your foreheads against one another. 

“You could never scare me off because in case you couldn’t tell, I’m in love with you too, darling.” he whispered softly to you, staring into your eyes as you bit your lip bashfully. 

You could feel the heat flushing your face as you felt him pull you closer. In the moonlight, you could see that he was blushing fiercely. You kiss him deeply, opening a portal behind you as you pull him backwards. 

You trip and fall right onto your bed at the cottage, much to Ford’s shock as he pulls away from you. He looks around baffled. 

“Fascinating! You can create portals? I knew that witches existed but I didn't know you could do that!! What else can you do?” Ford asked excitedly as he began to sit up reaching for his journal.  

You followed, grabbing his trench coat lapels, kissing him and flipping him to his back. Ford’s hands went slack, his focus recentered on you as you pulled away with a self satisfied smirk.   

“We can have a Q & A later, right now I’m more interested in other things,” Y/n breathed out before grinding on Ford's lap, feeling his hardness grow underneath you. 

Ford blinked, swallowing as he let out a whine at your continued movement. You kissed his lips again before muttering a soft “Off,” lifting the hem of his turtleneck. He eagerly obliged–almost knocking you in the face if not for your quick reflexes–practically ripping off his trench coat and turtleneck and flinging them across the room. You pulled your cardigan off as you admired his slightly pudgy and hairy physique before running your hands up his hairy yet muscular arms.  

He moaned as you ground down on him again, gripping the back of his neck as you clung to him. You giggled into his mouth, kissing him before standing to remove your sundress and flats. Ford followed suit, kicking off his combat boots and damn near ripping his pants and underwear as he pulled them off. Almost tumbling to the ground as he did so, causing you to both giggle. Until he looked up at you, breath catching at the sight of you still in your matching black lace bra and panty set.

He surges forward, kissing you like a man possessed and kneading your ass. You moan into his mouth, as you feel your panties dampen with your arousal. You feel his hard cock standing at attention, smearing precum onto your stomach. 

Before you know it, Ford has you lying on the bed kissing a trail down to the apex of your thighs. He lingers at your chest, sucking at your nipples through the lace before removing the barrier entirely. You shudder at the attention he gives your nipples, sucking one and rolling the other in his hand. 

You whine as he releases his grip on your chest and his mouth moves south. He teasingly kisses your aching clit and nips at your thighs before slowly pulling down your underwear. 

You buck your hips slightly at the feeling of his breath on your now exposed cunt. 

“Gorgeous,” you hear him whisper before diving in and eating you out like you were his last meal.  

You mewl as he laps at your folds before latching onto your clit and sucking. You buck your hips and whimper as you attempt to shut your legs. Ford pins your right thigh with one hand before moving to open you up with his other. 

You gasp and grasp at his hair roughly when you feel his index finger at your entrance before slowly sinking into you. You moan loudly, whining as he thrusts his finger in and out before adding another. Your eyes slam shut as your back arches at the feeling. 

He scissors his fingers briefly before he makes a come hither motion with his fingers. You begin to shake, your heels digging into his back from where your legs have been perched over Ford's shoulders. 

You whimper out a soft “oh fuck,” the only warning Ford receives before you're cumming all over his face. Whining and moaning as he fingers you and sucks at your clit through your high, moaning into your cunt. Which triggers another harsher orgasm as you sob out, pushing Ford's face away. 

You look down at him between your thighs, his face flushed and glasses askew as he kisses your thighs. As if to apologize for the accidental overstimulation, your chest heaving and thighs twitching still as you smooth out his messy hair. 

You sit up and pull Ford's mouth to yours by the nape of his neck. Kissing and licking into his mouth roughly, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans into your mouth cupping your face gently. 

You both pull away to breathe, foreheads pressed together. “Are you sure you're up for more?” Ford questions against your lips. 

You smirk as you reach down to grab his cock, stroking its ruddy head. “Oh, I'm just getting started baby boy” you whisper in his ear as he whimpers in yours. 

You flip your positions again, spreading your thighs over his as you position yourself over his cock. Grasping his cock and guiding it towards your entrance, your other hand gripping the sheets by Ford's head. You moan in unison as you sink down his thick cock, gasping when you're fully seated. 

Ford whines as you begin to ride him, slowly at first before gaining a rough rhythm. You pin his hands above his head as he gasps at the sudden move.  Moaning loudly as you nip and lick at his neck, his eyes rolling back. 

You giggle sinfully in his ear, before moaning as he flips you onto your back. Ford grips your hips “My turn,” he growls out before beginning a punishing rhythm that has you crying out once more, tears streaming down your face. 

Your hands grip the sheets before clawing at Ford's back, causing him to moan, and move a hand to grip at the bedspread. 

“Fuck!! I'm close, are you there yet darling?” Ford pants out. 

It takes you a minute to speak coherently, gasping out “Inside, cum inside me! I need it, please” you manage to babble out through your tears.  

“Shit,” Ford hisses, moving to rub at your clit in rough circles. 

You whine and cry out Ford’s name as you writhe, your grip on Ford adjusts as you pull him in for a rough kiss. 

You both moan into the kiss as your walls flutter around his twitching cock. He groans at the feeling, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. You pant into each other's mouths as he breathes out “Cum for me, darling.” 

You let out a silent scream as you cum for a third time, Ford groans as he feels your wetness drench yours and his thighs as you squirt on his cock. His head drops to your neck as he bites your shoulder, shuddering as he thrusts deeply, his spend coating your walls as you pant and sigh. 

You lock your feet together around his waist as he collapses onto you. You play with his hair as the smell of sex and sweat permeates the air in the afterglow. 

You wince as you feel his softening cock slowly pull out. He groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of your wet cunt. You feel your combined cum drip down to the crack of your ass as you sit up. 

“So, I'm a mess. Wanna help me clean up?” You smirk up at him, eyes glinting deviously. 

He laughs before pulling you up, “I thought you'd never ask,” you both smile into the kiss you share as you grab his hand, kissing it and leading him to your bathroom.  

You might just send the council a thank you basket for sending you to Gravity Falls after all. . . 

******

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I had fun writing this!

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June Creator of the Month: Thosehallowedhalls

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month is @thosehallowedhalls.

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

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1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I can't remember exactly. 2021, I think? Laws of Attraction was on its tenth chapter.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined in January of this year. I was upset with Crimes of Passion 2, so I wrote a couple of stories about it. I had deactivated my old Tumblr long ago, so I had to open a new one.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

I love old buildings - the history, the ambiance. I tried hallowedhalls, but it was taken, so I added the article.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

I… have zero recollection of this post. But I'm big on nostalgia and mourning past times, so the fact that this was my first post tracks.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I've been teaching myself to draw, but I'm not anywhere near close to sharing what I do.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing fanfiction way back in… 2010? For about four or five years. Then I stopped until December 2023.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Crimes of Passion on both counts.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

That would be The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm, inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I do still like it, but I would tighten up the writing a bit. I had barely written any fiction for several years at that point, and the lack of practice shows.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

I keep going back and forth between The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm and Home Without. Both are angsty short series.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I was taken aback by the comments on The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm. I'd posted it on AO3 a few weeks before, and had gotten a handful of kudos and one comment, but within 24 hours of posting it here, I had several lovely reblogs. It was a welcome surprise. Stories with fewer comments… I guess Home Without. The first chapter got quite a bit of love, but by the time the final chapter rolled around, fewer people were interacting.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I love a balance, but I'd say angst with a happy ending. I enjoy the breadth of emotions angst lets you explore.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are bits and pieces of me in all of them. Emma has my sarcasm, and Raine has my need to look for the best in people. There may be more, but if so, it wasn't done intentionally.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Perfectionism. Like I said before, the lack of writing practice shows. I know that the only way to get better is to keep writing, but I hate seeing the gap between what I do and what I want to do. Catch-22.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

My Sebastyan x Emma fic, Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. There are only a couple of chapters left, but I've been struggling with it for a couple of months now.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Oh, hell no.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

So many writers have influenced my writing throughout the years, including authors I do not currently read. The Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Nora Roberts, Jane Austen, Courtney Milan, Alyssa Cole… I could go on and on. Fanfic writers… There are a lot, but off the top of my head, @inlocusmads, @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @gaiuskamilah, @aria-ashryver, @jerzwriter, @dutifullynuttywitch, @aces-and-angels, @petalouda85, and @storyofmychoices. I know there are more.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Home Without. I'm a sucker for good pining, and I'd love to see all that mutual longing play out onscreen - not to mention that reunion.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do. I'm currently working on a horror short story, a MG novel, and a dual timeline mystery that's still in the research stages.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, non-fandom writing, drawing, learning new things (especially languages!), going on walks, and drinking enough coffee to alarm medical professionals anywhere.

[taeraeszn]

im BEGGINGGGG for some domestic fluff with matthew. i feel there hasn’t been enough authors on here appreciating him on here!! 💗💗

true love - seok matthew

characters: matthew x gn!reader

description: you and matthew spend a day off together in your apartment

genre: pure fluff with the smallest hint of suggestiveness lol

word count: 981 words

warnings: food and hint of suggestiveness (kissing/making out) but lmk if there's more :) maybe some word errors sorry!!

a/n: hi anon ty for requesting <3 i honestly agree bc i barely see matthew posts on there and he deserves way more!!

this is probably the most suggestive thing i've ever written (ik im breaking my own rules) so expect more woohyun than matthew

also this is written with the idea that you and matthew have been together for a long time and finally live together! so enjoy bc i'm hella delulu for him LMAO

"love?" you faintly heard matthew say. you groaned as you woke up from your sleep. just as your eyes slightly opened, they shut right away as the sun rays hit them.

"hmm?" you mumbled, trying to go back to dreamland. he softly shook you while also wrapping his arms around your body.

"it's almost ten and we haven't gotten out of bed yet." he informed you. wait ten? you rose up from your comfortable position to see your boyfriend matthew laying next to you with a bright smile on his face.

he ran his hand through your hair, "wait it's ten already?" you asked. from looking outside your wide window, you already noticed people walking down the street as well as cars zooming by. but neither of you had work today so this was simply a day to relax.

"yup and we need to get up. i let you sleep for longer today but it's already going to be ten o'clock. plus, i want to eat your pancakes."

you playfully rolled your eyes at the last part of his sentence, "fine."

matthew giggled, "and good morning to you too."

"but you make them better." he grinned then somehow got even closer to you than he was just a second ago.

with that he pressed his lips against yours. you rested your hand on his chest as he put his on your cheek. his chaste kisses melted you as you kissed back.

he continued as he ran his hands around your body along with you running yours on his abs (who else died). matthew turned his head to the left to change his position.

you moved your hands to wrap around his shoulders but as just things were about to get heated he pulled away but not without kissing you once more.

"i love you." he stated, pressing his forehead against yours. you chuckled then kissed his nose.

"i love you too."

you finally got out of bed and went to prep yourself in the morning by washing your face and brushing your teeth, as well as doing some basic skincare to get your skin glowing.

"love?" you heard behind you, turning around you saw matthew right behind you. "i'm going to shower now."

"okay i'll make the pancakes." you grinned only for matthew to pout.

"that wasn't the answer i was hoping for." but nonetheless, he hopped into the shower which left you then alone in the kitchen.

the pancake mix began to sizzle on the pan as you poured the liquid onto it. mornings like this were always the best.

matthew was the one who asked if you wanted to live together and you obviously said yes to it. a year had already passed since you two began living together and it's safe to say that you've been more happier than ever being able to wake up next to the love of your life.

but you two had been dating for what felt like a decade. you met in university and it was love at first sight. matthew was persistent on getting your number and always found a way to get you to talk with him, and luckily it worked!

since then you haven't looked back which led you to where you are now. matthew moved out of the zerobaseone dorm to live with you which had the members jokingly ridiculing him for being in love. but they were also close with you as you visited the dorms plenty of times before.

midst in your train of thoughts, you felt a pair of hands from behind wrap themselves around you.

"that smells amazing." he said.

"you always say that." you replied, matthew went to open the curtains in the living room giving more light for the apartment.

"because it's true." he popped himself down on the couch to turn on the tv and play the k-drama you two recently left on.

with the pancakes finally done, you plated them and poured syrup on them along with a few blueberries sitting at the top. though you preferred sitting at the dining table, you followed your boyfriend and went to go sit on the couch with him.

you handed him his plate to which he smiled and kissed you on the forehead, "thank you love."

your cheeks began heating up as you managed to reply, "your welcome."

each time you heard him say 'love', you felt yourself turn numb. that word definitely had an effect on you and matthew knew it since he keeps using it to get a reaction from you.

as you dug into the food, you sat there while cuddling each other, tuning into the drama playing. so far there wasn't much tension between the two actors but he insisted this was a good drama since taerae recommended it to him.

"so any plans for today?" you asked. he shrugged but moved his head to rest on your shoulder.

"hmm, i'm thinking of going on a walk, if you want."

"that sounds good." you nodded.

"but most of all i just want to spend time with you today. y'know we finally got a day off like you had been wanting."

he wasn't wrong, you were waiting for a day where matthew can just rest at home and spend time with you. it was rare that he got days like this since he was almost always stuck at the wakeone building.

"and i'm glad."

"me too love."

thereafter, you sat in the peaceful silence watching tv. even though he would return to his busy idol life tomorrow, you wanted time to stop and to sit with matthew all day.

you didn't take being with matthew for granted and were so thankful you agreed to living with him. nothing is better than this. maybe soon you could spend the rest of your life with him but the present was already perfect.

[coolcoolcoolbutwtf]

Receptionist Danny working in the main Wayne lobby

First few days at the job site and Danny was already regretting getting this job.

Why?

Because this exact scenario had been repeated five times already just today. Not as persistent as THIS one though. God he is so tired of this bull. It got tiring after the third time now he's just tired and annoyed.

A bad combo considering Danny the "Town Menace Phantom" Fenton was beginning to lose the little patients he had left.

' just count down from ten like Jazz had taught me years ago'. Danny gave a sigh and kept repeating the mantra in his mind.

He has to stay strong he fought ghost for years! What is a few minutes worth of questions from a few eager journalist? He could handle Wes how could they be any worse?

Oh who was he kidding certainly not himself! Not after having suffered a day full of questions about shit he didn't know squat about.

This situation with this gender bent Wes was WORSE considering Danny couldn't just tell her to piss off. The others had just asked a few questions or had gotten turned down regarding questions. Not TO bad. He could handle it. He still kinda liked this job. Well, he likes the work benefits. It was the main reason he applied after all.

So give him some credit this was the sixth harpy "journalist" to come sniffing around after having gotten wind of a new employee in the main office. Though their sources must be bad. He was just a receptionist! Not the new head of the financing department or Bruce Wayne's new secretary, leave him alone!

He doesn't know what the company boss does??? Why ask him? How would lil' old receptionist Danny Fenton know!

Has he not suffered enough?? His suffering with this specific harpy had been going on for the past twenty five minutes.

"So, where does Bruce Wayne leave for during his meetings? A new woman? Man? Trouble in the family?"

Vicky Vale as she had introduced herself before had officially made Danny hear his last strained thread of patients fraying. He could only take so much before the menace in him gott done with this nonsense. Time for Ms Vale to go away, fuck off and not come back. Danny menace mode ON now.

Smiling the most customer service™ smile he could manage Danny responded in the flattest tone he was capable of.

"Well to fuck your mom of course, Ms Vale."

And of course at just the moment the older receptionist Ms Linda Smith that had been in charge of showing Danny the territory before retirement finally came back. With two coffee cups in her hands. She had taken off on her break the moment she spotted Ms Vale walking towards the front desk. She promised to grab him a coffee on her way back. Truly abandoning him to the wolves. Or wolf. She had bribed him and Danny hadn't even known what kind of suffering awaited him. Ms Linda had started speaking.

"Okay Danny no we don't---

Danny didn't know exactly what was up with the big boss and his family. Something was definitely up but he didn't think it was bad.

"And your dad, because we here at Wayne enterprises support the LBGTQIA community. Thank you and leave.

((((((((((((End )))))))))))) :)

Thank you for reading! I might do some more for this idea again. This is basically just the idea by @some-rotten-nest link below. I've had a similar idea about Danny being an evil assistant before. Not a receptionist though. It was fun writing this I keep thinking about all the interesting scenarios that could play out in this (Au?) Idea. Also I just wanted to test the waters. I've never written anything and actually posted it before. I hope this was okay. Um bye and have a good day oh am I kidding have a good night!

This idea is based on this https://www.tumblr.com/some-rotten-nest/725017913035276288/danny-fenton-a-new-receptionist-at-wayne by the amazing @some-rotten-nest ! I was just so inspired by it, all of my creative instincts were just itching to make something for this<3

>:D

[ink-stains-and-constellations]

I usually write and post Undertale fanfiction on a different account, but I kept seeing those time-travel The Hobbit fics and I really liked the premise, so I wrote a small bit of one. I have no idea what else to do with it, soooooo here have the random fic I wrote at like 1 AM.

(Quick disclaimer, I'm not actually super well-versed in Middle-Earth lore. I've read and loved The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, but I haven't gotten around to reading The Silmarillion or anything yet. I probably got some stuff wrong in terms of lore, so sorry about that. This was written for fun and I'm not planning on making it into a longer fic, but I thought I'd share it because why not.)

Bilbo was dead.

He knew he was dead. He had died in the Undying Lands, finally succumbing to the age of his body, surrounded by Frodo and Gandalf and the elves as he drifted off into his very last adventure. He had lived a long life. A good life. One with regrets, of course, but also one with much joy and love.

Hobbit-lore had never said much about their afterlife - not like the lore of elves, dwarves, or even men - but Bilbo had always supposed it would be something like this, the comfort of home. For he had found himself back in his hobbit-hole, back in Bag-End, seated at his table with a lovely-looking tea spread out before him.

His aches, his weariness, were gone. His joints and back moved easily, without any pain to speak of. His eyesight was perfectly clear. Even his bald patches had vanished, his head and feet covered once again in thick bushes of curly hair.

"Why, I don't feel a day over fifty," he marvelled under his breath, grinning a little.

Leaving his food on the table, he explored his home, running his fingers along the backs of chairs and rifling through drawers. Most things were exactly as he remembered it - better, even for he had not seen his silver spoons for decades, yet there they were, sitting neatly with the rest of his cutlery. The only objects unaccounted for were the things from his adventure; Sting, the coat of mithril, the chests of gold and silver, and the ring (he caught himself a moment before thinking 'his ring'). But he had given Sting and the coat to Frodo anyway, the ring had been destroyed, and he didn't suppose he would need gold or silver in the afterlife, so he paid it no mind.

He had just sat back down to his tea when the doorbell rang. He was not expecting visitors, of course, as he had only just gotten to this hobbitish afterlife, but he was not nearly as fussy about that sort of thing as he had once been, so he got to his feet and went to greet his guest.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it hadn't been a dwarf, and it most certainly hadn't been a very familiar dwarf with a long beard and a dark green hood, worn and stained from travel, his bright eyes glittering from beneath its hem.

The dwarf hopped inside as soon as the door was open, hanging his hooded cloak on one of the pegs, then sweeping into a low bow. "Dwalin at your service!"

Bilbo was frozen, one hand still on the polished brass doorknob, staring at his old friend, who now looked decades younger and was wearing the same clothes he had been the first time they had met.

"Dwalin?" he asked. "What are you doing here?" Even if the dwarf was dead too, he surely wouldn't be here, wherever here was.

Dwalin frowned slightly. "I am here for the meeting, of course."

"Meeting?" he echoed, mystified.

"Yes, the meeting." Dwalin gave him an odd look, as if he should have already known. "And, er, whose service do I have the pleasure of being at?"

Bilbo blinked. "What?"

"Your name," Dwalin elaborated.

After a moment of mutually puzzled silence, Bilbo took a closer look at Dwalin. The clothes. The appearance. The expression, politely confused. Asking for his name.

I don't feel a day over fifty.

He swallowed. "I - Bilbo." Slowly, he bowed. "Mister Bilbo Baggins, at your service." He straightened, gesturing to the hall behind him. "I, uh - I just set out tea. Please, help yourself."

Dwalin nodded, bustling off down the hall. Bilbo did not follow him, but sat down on the ornamental chair by all the hooks and put his head in his hands. This... wasn't possible, was it? He couldn't be back then. He had died, for goodness' sake.

Before he could get very far with his thoughts, the bell rang again. He sprang up, nearly wrenching the door open to reveal an old, red-hooded dwarf, who immediately hopped inside.

"I see they have begun to arrive already," he noted as he hung his hood next to Dwalin's. He then bowed, giving Bilbo an entirely unnecessary introduction.

"Balin, at your service!"

"Bilbo Baggins at yours," Bilbo replied, bowing in return. "Dwalin is inside - please, go join him, I'll bring out more tea. Unless you would prefer a little beer?" he added, remembering his old friend's preferences.

Balin smiled. "Yes, and some seed-cake, if you have any."

"Yes, lots."

Balin set off down the hall to join his brother, and Bilbo went to the pantry to collect the beer and seed-cakes.

Well, that settles it, he thought, a tad grimly. I am back at the very beginning of it all. He wasn't entirely enthusiastic about the prospect, given that he knew what lay ahead, but he resolved to do his very best with this second chance. To make their journey better with his knowledge. Maybe he could even save...

He shook his head and quickly delivered Balin's food and drink, right before the bell rang a third time and he had to rush back to the door.

It was Fili and Kili this time, and Bilbo's heart started aching when he saw them, young and whole and alive, their yellow beards clean of blood and grime, their eyes sparkling and clear.

"Kili at your service!"

"And Fili!"

He took their hoods and bags, setting them carefully to the side, and bowed back, fighting the urge to pull them both into a hug. Somehow, he managed to speak past the lump in his throat. "Bilbo Baggins, at yours and your family's."

"Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," said Kili cheerfully. "Let us join the throng!"

Bilbo nodded and stepped aside to let them pass. He very firmly set aside his grief, his questions, his racing thoughts, and fixed his mind on the task at hand - namely, preparing enough food, drink, and chairs to host a company of fifteen.

While the four dwarves settled in and got to talking, he hurriedly set out more places at the table, then started raiding his pantry, bringing out everything from the wine to the cheese wheels. Halfway through, the bell rang again, and he practically sprinted to the door - in fact, he got there fast enough that Gloin had only just come puffing up to the doorstep.

Introductions were short, and the five newcomers soon joined the others at the table while Bilbo went back to emptying his pantries before they could do it themselves.

He had almost finished when a loud rapping echoed down the hall, the knock of wood against wood. Bilbo sighed heavily, thinking mournfully of the dent in his nice green door that he had never quite gotten around to fixing, and, whisking one last plate of food onto the table, set off to let his guests inside for the fifth and final time that night.

He made sure to open the door very slowly and carefully, so as not to repeat his mistake from all those years ago and end up with a pile of dwarves on his doormat. This time, all four of them hopped inside without incident, and Gandalf ducked through the doorway a moment later.

"Hello, Bilbo," he greeted with a smile. "I hope you do not mind terribly that I brought guests to our tea."

Bilbo sighed again, casting a glance in the direction of his depleted pantries. "Not at all, Gandalf."

"Excellent!" The wizard clapped his hands. "Now, allow me to introduce you to Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and especially Thorin!"

There were the usual bows and "At your service"s from Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur, and none at all from Thorin, not that Bilbo had expected any. He gave all four of them a deep bow in return.

"Bilbo Baggins." He glanced up, meeting Thorin's proud gaze and ignoring the pang of grief, an old, old pain that had never really gone away. "At your service."

Thorin merely turned to toss his sky-blue, silver-tasselled hood onto a hook beside the others.

"Now we are all here!" declared Gandalf, hanging his hat at the end of the row of hoods. "Quite a merry gathering. I hope there is something left for the latecomers to eat and drink!"

"Yes, there's plenty," replied Bilbo, gesturing for the group to follow him down the hall.

Gandalf fell into step beside him, peering curiously down at him. He opened his mouth to ask something, but Bilbo quickly interrupted.

"Be careful of the -"

Thunk.

"Rafters," Bilbo finished with yet another sigh, watching Gandalf rub his head.

"A little low, these ceilings," the wizard commented, grimacing.

"Or maybe you're just a little tall!" called a grinning Fili from the dining room. "We seem to be managing just fine."

"Impertinent dwarf," Gandalf grumbled, hunched over to keep from hitting his head again.

Bilbo darted ahead to pull out a chair for Thorin, the grandest chair he could find in his little hobbit-hole. Thorin paused for a moment, then slowly sank into it, nodding his thanks. Bilbo gave him a quick smile and took his own place at the table, which he had made sure to include this time, as he didn't want to miss out on all the food again.

He wasn't much for conversation, as he didn't want to slip up and reveal all the things he knew, but he didn't bother asking if they would stay for supper after the meal was finished. Already knowing the answer, he just made to collect the plates, and didn't protest when the dwarves sprang up to clear them away instead.

The dishes were soon cleaned and put away, and the dwarves came back to find Bilbo watching Thorin and Gandalf blow smoke-rings around the room.

"Now for some music!" Thorin declared as his company filed into the room, snuffing out his pipe and setting it aside. "Bring out the instruments!"

There was a rush for instruments just as Bilbo remembered, and he sat back in his chair to listen to the dwarves' music. It was enthralling as it had been the first time, and he felt as though he was indeed fifty all over again and feeling a great desire for adventure. He found himself humming quietly along to the familiar tune.

It eventually stopped, of course, once dark had fallen, and Thorin stood to begin his speech.

"Gandalf, dwarves, and Mister Baggins! We are met together in the house of our friend and fellow conspirator, this most excellent and audacious hobbit - may the hair on his toes never fall out! All praise to his wine and ale!"

The ache in Bilbo's heart increased upon hearing his friend's typically long-winded beginning, and he barely managed to reply, "You are very kind." His voice came out with a funny choked quality to it, as if he was about to cry. Which was, of course, absurd, he thought as he blinked furiously against his burning eyes.

Thorin stopped, staring at Bilbo, his brow furrowed. "Is something the matter, Mister Baggins?"

Bilbo quickly shook his head, scrubbing away the tears that were leaking down his cheeks. "Nothing at all, Thorin," he whispered, unable to help the familiarity that slipped out with his friend's first name. "And, uh -" He cleared his throat, speaking a little louder. "Please, call me Bilbo, all of you. It seems appropriate if we're to - uh, work together."

Slowly, Thorin nodded, although he did not continue with his speech. He just... stared at Bilbo, a puzzled divot between his heavy brows, until Bilbo shifted uncomfortably, worried that he had made a mistake.

"Tell me, Mister Baggi - Bilbo," said Thorin suddenly. "Do you have much experience in the matter of burglary?"

Bilbo felt his lips twist into a humourless smile as images flashed in his mind. A golden cup. A large gemstone that could be called white, if you ascribed the same colour to the stars themselves. Before that, a set of keys, countless morsels of food, even the very dwarves who now sat in his dining room. All done while invisible, of course, but perhaps this time he could be a burglar before he found the ring as well as afterwards. (He was a little reluctant to take possession of the ring again now that he knew what it was, but he also knew that it had been an invaluable asset on their journey, and besides if he hadn't found it, it wouldn't have been destroyed, so he resolved to pick it up again as he had before.)

"Yes. Quite a bit, in fact."

A murmur of surprise went around the room. Even Gandalf's bushy eyebrows raised, although he stayed silent, still puffing on his pipe.

"How about travel?" Thorin asked, evidently set on grilling him now. "Fighting? Sword or axe, what's your weapon of choice?"

Bilbo sighed yet again. "I'm rather skilled at darts, if you must know, and I quite enjoy a good hike now and then," he answered, voice dripping with sarcasm that he never would have dared back at the beginning, but he was rather used to being treated with the indulgence afforded to eccentric elderly folk, so he didn't think much of it at all until Thorin snorted and he realised that the dwarf had taken his words seriously.

Another outbreak of muttering spread throughout the room, and amidst all the questions about his sincerity, he caught the fated words, murmured by Gloin to Oin.

"He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

Bilbo's teeth gritted, and he addressed Thorin again, discarding the sarcasm this time. "In all seriousness, I favour a sword, although seeing how I am not currently in possession of one, the question seems moot."

Thorin looked him up and down, as if trying and failing to imagine him using a sword. "I see."

Electing to ignore the dwarves' doubt, Bilbo stood, heading towards the hallway. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I am going to -" His toes snagged on something, perhaps a hole in the carpet, and he stumbled, a hand darting out to steady himself upon Gandalf, who happened to be the nearest solid object.

"Oh, terribly sorry, Gandalf," apologised Bilbo, looking quite a bit less flustered than one might expect. "As I was saying, I am going to fetch a light. I will return in a moment."

"Excellent idea," replied Gandalf, peering down at Bilbo. The dwarves may not have found his stumble suspicious, but the wizard was well aware of the surefootedness of hobbits and suspected Bilbo to be up to something, which, of course, he was.

At fifty, Bilbo Baggins had been polite to a fault and wholly inexperienced in theft. However, having lived over a hundred and thirty years before his death, he now considered himself a fairly seasoned burglar and quite disliked being doubted or mocked. So when he saw the opportunity to prove himself, he took it, and by the time he returned with a lamp, Gandalf was rifling through his pockets in search of a map he was certain he had had on his person.

Bilbo placed the lamp on the table and tilted his head curiously at the wizard, struggling to conceal a grin. "Is there something wrong, Gandalf?"

Gandalf's shrewd eyes snapped to him, and he gazed intently for a moment or two before explaining, "I seem to have lost a rather important map. You wouldn't happen to have any idea of its whereabouts, would you?"

"Not the foggiest clue," Bilbo replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Oh - wait, what is this?" With a - perhaps unnecessary - theatrical flourish, he withdrew the map from his waistcoat, holding it up. "Well, it appears it's right here in my pocket. How odd." He dropped it onto the table in front of Gandalf, his grin breaking through his attempted poker face.

Gandalf stared at the map for a few seconds, then chuckled loudly and suddenly, patting Bilbo on the back. "Very impressive, my friend."

Bilbo laughed and went to sit back down, not noticing the suspicious look Gandalf shot him behind his back.

"Now, then," the wizard began, spreading the map out on the table. "This was made by Thror, your grandfather, Thorin. It is a plan of the Mountain."

Thorin glanced at it, then shook his head, disappointed. "I don't see how this will help us much. I remember the Mountain well enough, and the lands about it. And I know where Mirkwood is, and the Withered Heath where the great dragons bred."

"There is a dragon marked in red on the Mountain," put in Balin. "But it will be easy enough to find him without that, if ever we arrive there."

"Unfortunately so," Bilbo murmured to himself, his shoulders curling a little inwards.

"There is one thing you haven't noticed, and that is the secret entrance," pointed out Gandalf. "You see that rune on the west side, and the hand pointing to it from the other runes? That marks a hidden passage to the Lower Halls."

"It may have been secret once," Thorin countered, "but how do we know it remains so? Old Smaug has lived there long enough now to find out anything there is to know about those caves."

"He may, but he can't have ever used it. It is far too small for him - 'five feet high the door and three may walk abreast' say the runes, and Smaug couldn't have crept into a hole that size even when he was a young dragon, let alone now, after devouring so many of the dwarves and the men of Dale. In any case, the door should be closed and hidden, made to look exactly like the side of the mountain, and therefore kept secret from the rest of the world, if not from Smaug."

Bilbo leant closer to get a proper look at the map, which he had not seen for decades. The Mountain drawn in dark ink on the paper seemed a lot smaller than the Mountain of his memories.

"Also," Gandalf went on, "I forgot to mention that with the map came a key, a small and curious key. Here it is!" He presented it to Thorin, a key with a long barrel and intricate wards, flashing silver in the lamplight. "Keep it safe!"

"Indeed I will," replied Thorin, taking the key and fastening it upon the fine gold chain that hung around his neck. "Now things begin to look more hopeful. This news alters them much for the better. So far we have had no clear idea of what to do. We thought of going east, as quiet and careful as we could, as far as the Long Lake -"

Bilbo had heard Thorin's ramblings before, of course, and if this was an ordinary meeting with friends, he would have tuned him out. However, he was acutely aware of just how precious his time here was - every second with Thorin and Fili and Kili alive, every second with the others smiling and in good cheer, every second unburdened by deep, heavy grief - so he listened quietly to the voice he'd spent so many years missing.

"- but we none of us liked the idea of the Front Gate. The river runs right out of it through the great cliff at the south of the Mountain, and out of it comes the dragon too - far too often, unless he has changed his habits."

"That would be no good," added Gandalf. "Not without a mighty warrior, even a hero. I tried to find one, but warriors are busy fighting one another in distant lands, and in this neighbourhood, heroes are scarce, or simply not to be found. Swords in these parts are mostly blunt, axes are used for trees, and shields as cradles or dish-covers; dragons are comfortably far-off, and therefore legendary. That is why I settled on burglary - especially when I remembered the existence of a side-door. And here is our little Bilbo Baggins, the burglar, the chosen and selected burglar. So now let's get on and make some plans."

"Very well, then," agreed Thorin. "Supposing the burglar gives us some ideas or suggestions." He turned to Bilbo with mock politeness, although it was a bit less mocking than it had been the first time around.

Bilbo drew himself up, meeting Thorin's gaze with a determined look. He was the only one there who knew what was in store, and over the course of the night, he had come to the decision that he meant to bring them all through the journey and out the other side alive and more or less intact, if at all possible. "Certainly, Thorin," he answered briskly. "I should think that we ought to focus on actually getting there and finding the side-door before we worry about dealing with much else. I take it there is quite a lot of treasure?" he added, although he already knew.

Thorin nodded. "Yes, halls upon halls of it."

"It will be impossible for me to move it all by myself. I will be able to perhaps steal one or two pieces before the dragon notices us, so I would suggest you give some thought as to which pieces you should like." A large white gem glimmered in his mind again before he pushed the image away and forged on, ignoring the echoes of dread. "I would also suggest -" His voice trembled, and he cleared his throat, trying to keep his words steady. "I would also suggest that we take a moment to consider the possibility of things such as dragon-sickness, and how it may be overcome once the Mountain is in our possession."

"Sage advice," said Gandalf approvingly, filing away his suspicion to deal with later and patting Bilbo on the shoulder.

Bilbo threw him a quick smile, though he was unable to hide the hint of tiredness to it. He found that he didn't particularly want to speak of their journey anymore, not with the knowledge of what was to come weighing on him, heavy as a sack of dragon-guarded gold.

"And, well, don't you know, I think we have talked long enough for one night, if you see what I mean. What about bed, and an early start, and all that? I would appreciate some help with breakfast tomorrow, if anyone would be so kind."

"You're the host, are you not?" replied Thorin, raising a dark, heavy brow. "But I agree about bed and breakfast. I like six eggs with my ham when starting on a journey - fried, not poached, and mind you don't break 'em."

Bilbo crossed his arms, staring at the dwarf expectantly, until Thorin reluctantly added, "Please."

Bilbo nodded and grabbed a small notebook that had been laying on the mantlepiece, quickly jotting down Thorin's preferred breakfast. "Anyone else?"

The dwarves and Gandalf all ordered their breakfasts, and Bilbo managed to get a 'please' from every one of them. Afterwards, he had to find places for all of them to sleep, which was thankfully a much shorter affair than last time, as he had his previous experiences to go by. He did have to dig extra blankets out of the linen cupboard, and set several dwarves and Gandalf (who was much too tall for his spare beds) up on couches and chairs, but he eventually got them all stowed away and retired to his own little bed. The shock of finding himself back in the past, along with having to host thirteen dwarves and a wizard, had left him rather exhausted, despite the renewed strength of his younger body. Before he collapsed into bed, he remembered to leave a sliver of his curtains unclosed, so that he would be awoken by the rays of dawn.

He fell asleep to the sound of Thorin's humming from the bedroom next to his, and this time, it was comforting.

The Hobbit was created by J.R.R. Tolkien.

[balanceoflightanddark]

I would be curious to hear your full thoughts on Azula in the Spirit Temple

...oh boy...my full thoughts on Azula in the Spirit Temple...

Needless to say, there has been a LOT of discourse on the release of the Azula one-shot these past few days. I know cause...well, I made a post saying my fic was on hiatus till I got my head straight. So needless to say, I've been in the middle of it myself.

The thing about the one-shot though is that it's not just the comic itself but all the baggage and expectations that comes with something that we've been waiting 15 years for. This is the first time Azula has EVER gotten the focus for once. For many of us, this has sort of been a make-or-break situation. I'll get to why in a moment but needless to say, it's been a stressful week.

But having read the comic, I'm ready to give my opinions on it. Spoilers. Obviously.

By now you should know the synopsis: after a raid on a granary, Azula's Fire Warriors make a rescue attempt for one of their comrades, leaving Azula behind. After trying to track them down for their "betrayal", Azula stumbles across a temple deep within the wood home to a monk. Of course, not all is as it seems, as it becomes apparent that something dark resides within, pitting the Princess against her very own psyche.

As I mentioned before, this is Azula's first time in the spotlight. The whole comic is written from her point of view, and she is effectively the protagonist. Going in, I was both excited...and terrified. See, this is her first appearance since the Yang comics and...

...yeah. Needless to say, there's a LOT of bad blood for me going into this comic. So much so that I nearly lost it when I heard some of the spoilers going in.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

To begin, this comic does the most critical thing right: Azula is NOT portrayed as being an irredeemable monster. While she's still a villain and makes a lot of questionable choices (her treatment of the Fire Warriors is reminiscent of how she treated Mai and Ty Lee after all), she's also given a great deal of sympathy. Probably the most we've seen out of the franchise so far.

If Azula was some kind of monster, there's no way panels like this should even exist. What's more, I actually think it does something that I think wasn't handled well in the series and treated little!Azula as...well, a kid. Not a monster or "sick" as Zuko called her in "Zuko Alone". Just a talented kid who unfortunately caught the eye of Ozai for being good at firebending. Hell, that teaser image of her burning the turtleduck was actually a toy and not the real deal.

It's stuff like this that got me excited for the comic initially. This was what we've been waiting for years now. Writers actually acknowledging that Azula was a victim and not some monster.

...which is why I blew up when the previews turned out to be misleading.

See, Azula doesn't get her redemption here. She's offered one (we'll get to that in a minute), but she rejects it and ends the story as a bad guy. Granted there are hints that she's starting to change, but she's still going after the throne and is still opposed to Zuko. Which...kind of got me upset. Mainly cause I thought it was another bait-and-switch like with Yang hinting at Azula changing at the end of The Search, then going around with her crappy portrayal in Smoke and Shadows.

Course there's only so much you can do within a single one-shot, so admittedly...my hopes were too high. Like, there was a lot I wanted. I wanted the heroes to finally get called out on their bull crap. I wanted Azula to get a break. I wanted...I guess I wanted to feel validated that somebody was listening to us.

And granted there is a little bit here and there. The asylum is NOT looked on kindly by Azula or any of the Fire Warriors, with her even trying to reassure herself she's not being held there anymore.

She even calls out Ursa on abandoning her, saying that Ozai effectively conditioned her into being a weapon when she didn't have any choice in the matter. Hell, there's a heavy implication she's genuinely hurt by what Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee pulled in the past (which considering what they did in the comics, is a lot) and wants some kind of apology from them.

Again, while she's not entirely a saint here, I don't think they'd have this panels if she was entirely in the wrong.

Which then we get to the redemption offer. Basically, the Spirit offers to give her a chance to change...which she rejects.

The problem is, said chance involves her apologizing to THEM first. And I don't think that's portrayed as a good thing since the hallucination of Zuko looks eerily reminiscent of Ozai and downright monstrous. As others have pointed out, it's clear that the Spirit doesn't know Azula and the "redemption" sounds more like groveling for forgiveness. So of COURSE it's not going to work for somebody like Azula since that won't solve anything for her.

So...we come to the ending.

The Spirit calls Azula a monster, says she's squandered a chance for redemption, and she looks upon the Fire Warriors having fun together and...she leaves...

...alone...

...look. I understand that @prying-pandora666 said this was essentially a reset. Getting Azula to a post-Sozin's Comet state with a fresh start. And I get that. Particularly if the animated stuff is gonna feature her.

...but she's alone...again...

I'm okay with her not getting a redemption since I don't think she was mentally ready for one. But...

sighs

Listen, remember how I said I wanted a lot from this comic? Too much in fact? Yeah. I was so focused on what I needed as opposed to what Azula needed. A fresh slate might be what she needs. And in a vacuum, I think this comic is pretty solid.

It's just everything else is where I have problems.

15 years waiting. 15 years of Bryke/Yang's comics, ableism, and lack of empathy. 15 years of stress, of being seen as an outcast by the fandom. It's...it's a lot to hold. And there's no way a single good comic is gonna be able to rebuild those burned-down bridges. I understand that there's talk of a potential follow-up and stuff for her from Avatar Studios.

It's just...you know. You're always afraid of this being the end. Which...doesn't sit well with me. I'm just afraid they're gonna use Azula as a marketing tool to sell future comics. That they're gonna drag this out. That they're gonna keep playing this centrist field instead of committing (it's fine here, and I do think Faith does lean in towards Azula being sympathetic after all), it's just...

I'm sorry. I want to love this comic and be excited for more stuff with Azula but...15 years is a long time. And it's going to take more than a single good comic to get me back on board fully.

[richmondsims]

It was fall again. Time to pull out the warmer clothes and prepare the garden for winter. Ben had never been the poetic type, but he still couldn't help but muse on the symbolism of this time of year. 

The autumn of your life and all that, a time to settle in and enjoy... well, if not a decline in activity, then certainly not an increase. At 82, most people would probably put Ben in that category. Hell, he'd put himself in it at one point, years before now. But ever since, he'd never been able to 'settle down' because life kept throwing new things at him.

He'd thought his future was settled when his first wife, Marisa, had died relatively young. They'd planned out their happy retirement but it was not to be, and Ben was resolved to quiet old age spending time with his two adult sons and their children. 

Then he'd met Florence.

She was some years younger than him, but it didn't seem to matter, perhaps because she'd spent most of her lives around older people. She was an only child born to older parents, and as an adult she'd cared for them in their old age, living her whole life in the same little cottage she'd grown up in and continuing to run their flower shop, even after they were gone.

Ben was wealthy but, when they'd married, he'd left his big house in Richmond and moved into the cottage Florence loved so much. 

Much to Ben's dismay, the cottage was largely unchanged from the way it had been when Florence was a child - including all the appliances and the like. 

Florence and her parents had lived comfortably on the earnings from the shop, but there wasn't a lot left over. Her parents were very careful with their money, repairing things rather than replacing them and overall not spending a cent they didn't need to. Florence had adopted the same philosophy. Ben, a successful athlete then businessman, had become wealthy before he was 30. He didn't like waste either, but he did believe in comfort and convenience.

He'd started with a new stove, using the excuse that he loved to cook so he would be the one using it the most. He wanted something a bit closer to what he was used to.

Then a new fridge, one that couldn't be heard humming and groaning throughout the whole house. And a TV that actually got all the channels that were available.

The dishwasher was a bit harder. When it stopped working, Florence was convinced she could fix it herself. It was only after a minor but startling electric shock that she gave in.

Ben had another reason to want to upgrade as much as he could in their home - he was in good health but he wasn't going to be around forever. Although Florence would inherit the largest share of his fortune, he couldn't imagine her actually wanting to spend anything. Certainly not on her own comfort. He wanted to fit out her home in new, high quality things that would hopefully last her out.

From Ben

I'm finally back! After recreating a world and moving all its inhabitants, in-game bugs and dramas, more tweaking of the world and a bit of good old procrastination, I've finally gotten back to the post I had half-written before I started all that. Hopefully back to a regular schedule of posts now.

TS2 players might recognize Florence - she's Florence Delarosa from Bluewater Village, recreated in TS3. Ben is currently my eldest playable sim, and the last surviving 'child' of the household I created when I started playing TS2.

[poppyandzena]

The most recent anon is so right. Every accusation they make is an admission. I wish that meme someone made of Poppy that said "It's okay when I do it" had gotten shared more.

It's just constant:

Poppy: "every single person who is against me is all the same entity all coordinating on their efforts and they are all accountable for every single action that anyone else takes! They're all complicit because they are a PART OF IT"

Also Poppy: "*I* didn't write the NightWyld doc. *I* didn't create the picture of Noeh with the word r*pist on it. That was OTHER people. I only shared it and pinned it and shouted it out from my 6 different twitter accounts! But that's NOT ME YOU IDIOTS. You can't hold me responsible for the bad parts of that!"

Poppy a few months ago: "I WAS DOXXED! Using my name IS a doxxing effort! I'll make a whole video about it to make money and get attention!"

Poppy now: "well I was wrong about that before so THIS isn't doxxing, now. GOD YOU IDIOTS. Just because I said it was BEFORE because it helped me doesn't mean that it counts ANYMORE"

Poppy for months: "you HAVE to believe victims! How dare you doubt me?? You're just an SA apologist"

Poppy now: "here's a bunch of tweets that Milena CLAIMED were harassment for absolutely no reason! I mean, sure, most of the people in these tweets literally came out and said that they FELT harassed, and posted multiple tweets about how uncomfortable they were, but YOU CAN'T BELIEVE THOSE PEOPLE. They only claimed that they were harassed because they want clout and likes! You can't believe EVERYONE! Some people are just doing it for attention! Not like me, who said that I started using the r*pe word because I wasn't getting enough "traction" with regular assault claims. That's DIFFERENT YOU MONSTERS."

Poppy for months: "here are 50 tweets a day about why these 200+ page documents are impossible to read and completely out of context. YOU CAN'T EVEN TRUST THOSE - THEY PROVE NOTHING!"

Poppy now: "omg, this 286 page doc that is mostly just hand-written text and opinion from one person is the SLAM DUNK PROOF that everyone was just lying! WOW!"

Poppy for months: "anyone who even LOOKS at KF is a farmer and is a fucking monster"

Poppy and Saige, also for months: "and here's another thing that I read on the KF thread that is just fucking bullshit... everything those KFers say is so stupid"

(this next one is my favorite because it shows just how much Poppy doesn't even know how much she admits out loud)

Poppy for months: "anyone who just believes those docs and doesn't come talk to me is a fucking traitor. I've lost all of these friends and my job because of these fucking LIES"

Poppy in regards to Loomie: "omg they didn't even READ the docs! They just literally just left for NO REASON before the docs even came out because of their personal interactions with me and how awful I was to them. It was literally just "vibes". I'll even show you the DMs where they won't be a friend and support my delusions about r*pe. It had NOTHING to do with their very real and clearly communicated concerns about how I was treating an unhoused person! It was literally just fucking VIBES. what a LOSER"

Poppy for months: "Noeh is a r*pist and awful and terrible and here's 1000 tweets about it. So many tweets that my boss and most of my friends tried to stop me and finally ended their relationships with me because they thought it was too much"

Poppy now: "Milena STARTED THIS WHOLE THING. SHE started a harassment campaign against me! It all started with her original doc! None of this ever would have happened without it! Everyone is harassing ME and I haven't harassed a single person at all ever!"

(Poppy, remind us again how Milena's original doc had ANYTHING to do with your behavior around Noeh and your month's long online campaign to label her as a monster?)

BONUS PETTY: how come all of your tweet replies are always restricted to "followers only", Poppy? Are you a wee bit afraid that your few remaining followers will see the hundreds on comments against you on every tweet? Worried that the negative comments will outweigh the likes and retweets from YOUR OWN ACCOUNTS?

I hope people just keep resharing that Narcissist's Prayer on everything she posts.

^🧡

[hildegardladyofbones]

okay final thoughts on disco elysium (post-first playthrough). major fucking spoilers ahead.

This run took me 38 hours and I did it in 6 days (both irl and in game). Today was the day where I played the least, only 5 or so hours

My main strategy for picking options was: 1. what would *I* do? this lead to most of the boring and centrist answers because I don't want to take a stand on politics of a world I don't know shit about. Will definitely make other choices in the future now that I've gotten a grasp. 2. What would Kim approve of? disappointing Kim makes me physically sick. 3. Which of the options has the name Kim in it? I just wanted to say his name as much as possible.

In the future I will definitely be picking the silliest options. I also plan on picking the thinker archetype (i picked the sensitive one because i liked the addition that he might begin to lose his mind.) and that one says that he's very bad with people, which logically would lead to out of pocket things.

Most importantly: I didn't do shit in this game. I didn't even disco. I thought I had an other opportunity to finish that quest, because I could have never thought that the killer would be on the island. There's also the deal with Cuno. Idfk what it is. Will get to that next time. And what was it that Joyce had to say? And how would've the tribunal gone had I not failed all but two red-checks?

Other shit i want to rant about. Kim. Oh my fucking god, Kim. Hands down the best character in any video game I've ever played. (Oh yeah that reminds me- I'm certain I didn't find out all there is to him). I've talked about it before (Wayyy too much) how he was so kind and patient and down-to-earth when he didn't have to be. How he doesn't fuck around. Usually. One of my favourite traits of his is that he is so willing to do random shit for the fun of it. He also doesn't take anyone's shit, like, he has effectively shut people's mouths up. His voice was also way too soothing and enjoyable to listen to for absolutely no apparent reason. I cheered and clapped when he spoke. I am a total kim-freak and I am Definitely kimfected. I can go on. about the fact that he smokes? absolutely obsessed with that fact for no apparent reason. And he's gay! I never would've thought they'd go there. I will be needing an orange bomber jacket and round sunglasses moving forward, thankyouverymuch

I should also talk about Harry. The reason why I didn't fuck with him *as much* is because to me, his characterization was very inconsistent. I'm sure I'll grow to like him even more when I actually know what I'm doing. I absolutely appreciate the constant angst he was in tho, especially after the tribunal, but *that* deserves it's own post. He is one of the more believably fucked-up detectives in fiction and definitely one of the most well-written. What absolutely seals the deal for me is the addition of his skills (?)(idk what to call them). Not only was it a wonderful game mechanic, it also made the game so much more interesting. And the fact that it's canon, there *are* voices in his head also adds to it. The narration was also on point, they picked the right actor for it. Speaking of game mechanics, the dice roll was also a needed addition. That's what made the game hard. Too bad it took me so long to figure out the logic behind it. I think I did that at like the second to last dice roll in the game. It's also, obviously, a nod to ttrpgs' that were an inspiration for this game. That also appears in the gameplay itself. Most of the time the characters are standing still while the narration tells us what's happening. That's neat as well, idk, i've never played an ttrpg

And then there's the ending. I will skip the middle parts, mostly, because they're just great and I love the story and that's pretty much all i have to say about it. The ending fucntioned as a review of how/what we did this run. Kim pretty much laid out exactly what kind of cop we were, what we believed in, how well we did the investigation, etc. and for that fact alone I don't know if I could ever stomach doing a playthrough where I don't solve the crime to near-perfection. I cannot stomach letting that man down. I will most likely be missing out on a considerable chunk of the game that way, but as about everything besides DE lately, idgaf. Kim is the blorbo of all time. Anyway it kind of pains me that the ending came so suddenly, mostly for the afore-mentioned reasons. It also kind of hurt me mentally because of how we're forced to confront how much of a shitshow Harry is. And the fact that it's so heavily hinting at a sequel that never came. The world is against me specifically for not giving this game a sequel. For not letting me see more of Kim. That's right, I will never shut up about him. I am superbly annoying about that guy it's unbearable even to me. FUCK i digress, the main reason why the ending left me with the heavy feeling is the feeling of loose ends. (I didn't fucking disco, remember?)

HOLY SHIT I HAVEN'T EVEN TALKED ABOUT THE WORLD !! I was *absolutely* *positively* astonished the more I learned about the world. I love history as much as the next history freak, but what I love more is *intentionally* mixing up the decades. The cars looked a century old, they had computers, they had ttrpgs', the year was '51 and they had disco, obviously. I live for that shit. There's also the thing that I do with my own fictional world and that is mixing made up shit with our world shit. I am beyond elated when I figured out that's what they were doing because i've never seen anything else do that. Their world mostly looks like and acts like our world, except the cultures, geography and history are all original. it's what I did because I didn't want to learn about the london tube system. And of course there are some super-natural elements (what the fuck is the pale? who is the paleworker? huh???) as well. The similarities between their and my world go on, but I digress. The worldbuilding done here was superb and so fucking impressive. Honestly stuff like "oh why would they call *their* months march, april, etc when the guys that named the months didn't exist in their world" and "oh why do they have communism if that was invented by Karl Marx" doesn't bother me at all. That is the shit i live for. It pains me that there most likely won't be a sequel, but luckily I am estonian so I can read the novel. The game being so heavily estonian-made was another reason why I bought it. (the others being: it was 4 eur and it said the artstyle was inspired by oil paintings)(had i known how life-changing this game would be for me, i would've gladly paid the 40 eur)

There's still more i could talk about, actually. This game also did some pretty insane things to me as a person, but I won't divulge the details here (also my mother thinks i should go to sleep? fuck her, i am staying up until 4am. again). For the time being it altered how I interact with the world, possibly permanently, but it's too early to tell. I am still knee-deep in the brainrot. If you really want, I could elaborate if asked, I don't care that much about privacy.

Anyway thank you for reading this rant? idk why you'd do that, i literally didn't proofread anything i wrote here. Most of it is about Kim anyway. I still have no idea what drugs they put in that character. Literally addicted to him. I think he's not just the 57th's best (or 41st's i guess) but he's just the best. in general. in every category. never figured out what the deal with the gloves was tho.

[spike-dearheart]

For the WIP ask game, the (nearly) mile high club? 👀

OOOOOOHHHH I would love to talk about this fic, thank you for the ask!!

So, this is one that's been vaguely puttering around in my head for a WHILE now and I've been finally getting something down on paper for it (not a LOT so far, but SOMETHING).

Basically, it started out as me being like "if I've already written Moist and Adora making it in the Postmaster General's office, then what about ADORA'S workplace? What about Clacks Tower Sex?" but then from there it evolved a bit and I was like "I have the opportunity to do a dumb joke and also talk about Adora's psyche" which meant it was automatically a great idea!

Or it will be a great idea as soon as I iron out the bits I need to...

(but without further ado, I give you snippets under the cut! it's nothing nsfw, because I haven't gotten there yet in my bajillion words of setup lmao)

The thing about it all, Moist figured out quite quickly, was that there was a saying about Clacksmen for a reason. Well, there were several sayings, really, and most of them were about a certain amount of thrillseeking and a more than certain amount of obsession driving otherwise sane folk to work on a Clacks tower. It was quite a lot like the Post Office, really. The longer Moist spent with Clacksmen the more he recognized the manic eccentricities mirrored in his own staff… And unfortunately he recognized this in his beloved Adora Belle Dearheart, who was otherwise quite sane, extremely non-manic, and eccentric in only the best ways. Because the real thing of it all was that when he’d invited Adora to dinner and she’d said yes, conditionally, he really hadn’t expected the conditions to be quite so… Eccentric. “You can bring some dinner after the Hour of the Dead.” To which Moist had replied, delicately, “In the Clacks tower?” “Well, yes, that is where I’ll be working,” she’d replied, as if he were dense.

Okay so the next two bits are where I have to iron out some things, because I really really desperately want to make a Pratchett-esque joke about "Mile High Club" except I want it to be like... well...

The Clacksman who looked more like a boy sniggered. “You’ll ‘ave some fun checkin’ his height, then.” Sane Alex cuffed the boy upside the head, muttering at him to keep his mouth shut, but not before Adora turned a severe glance on them. She raised an eyebrow and took a single step closer, her sharp heels seeming to ping maliciously against the floor. “And what does that mean?” she asked. The boy, who looked rather pale, replied, “Nothin’, ma’am.”

it's.....

“It’s an old Clacks myth,” Adora muttered, very red in the face even as she continued in an intensely businesslike tone, “Of course it doesn’t have a single foothold in reality, but that’s the way it is with myths. They say there was a man called Miles and he…” She cut herself off, cringing. Moist didn’t think he had ever seen Adora Belle cringe, and his mouth fell open in surprise as he stared at her.

It's the "About Miles' Height Club" and it's about a Clacksman myth about a man doing no doubt obscene things in a Clacks tower, which he's only capable of doing because he's very tall, so if you manage it then you're in the "About Miles' Height Club"... and there's lots of jokes among Clacksmen about "checking his height" and I haven't figured out all the details yet but I think it will be very funny if I can get there and also it means that Adora Belle absolutely heard this myth at a formative sexual awakening type age and has been lowkey fantasizing about sex in a Clacks tower ever since SEND TWEET.

Lol thank you for the ask!!

[b1ueoff1ine]

Healing - Part 7

Series Masterlist

Otto Octavius FanFiction

Otto x Reader

Prompt/Summary: long #6 - Life is hard, especially for a single mother, but you've made the best of it and took a new job as the secretary for a billionaire. A terrible tragedy rocks his world and you're there as a shoulder to cry on as he heals. During the healing process, however, he finds you are more important to him than he originally thought.

Warnings: Age Gap. (Let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: I am SO SORRY. I've had this written for a while, I just never had the time to go through and post it. I've been busy. Again, so sorry.

WC: 1k

__

It was Monday again.

The day you were most excited for after a long weekend. Otto had given the employees an extra day off. You were bummed about it at first, but took the time to get a much needed rest.

D/N came with you to work every day for the past week, and you started wondering if you should find a new daycare for her.

When you researched it over the weekend, you discovered one down the block from your apartment complex.

The staff was super kind and caring when you visited for the first time. That was when you knew they would take care of your daughter well.

The previous daycare's staff were harsh and careless. That was why you stopped going to that one in the first place.

Finally, you didnt have to care what your daughter saw at work.

One of the staff had gotten into drugs and tried to hit you. Otto stopped him, and you were glad your daughter hadn't been there to see it.

You had been scared, but when Otto protected you, you had a burst of confidence and spoke sternly to the man who tried to hit you.

It was at this point that you realized you liked Otto. Not how you did in the past, but in a new way that made you blush and made your heart race.

You made your coffee, feeling energetic. You made D/N her hot chocolate and dropped her off at her new daycare.

She didn't even say goodbye as she went to play with the other kids; that's how you knew she would be just fine.

When you arrived at work, Otto greeted you as usual. But something was off. He was too... smiley. He was almost too kind.

Even his actuators lights, which were usually white or red, were green and pink now.

It was like that all day. They changed to white when around the other employees, as if Otto and his actuators were hiding something.

Something they wanted only you to know about.

The next day, you confronted him about it.

"Otto, I noticed your actuators' lights change colors. I was wondering what the different colors mean." You spoke as Otto examined the full wing you had done.

"Oh, the lights. Yes, they change depending on both my mood and the actuators' moods.

"Hmm, okay. What does pink mean? Or even green?" You asked, getting straight to the point.

Otto stiffened. You knew he didnt want to talk about it; it was supposed to be a secret.

"Pink is... admiration. Green is... happy." He replied.

You knew he was avoiding the true meaning of the colors, but you let it slide. "So when the lights turn white, is that, like, neutral? I've seen pink and green and white."

"Yeah, pretty much." Otto relaxed, thinking you didnt sense the secret you knew he was hiding.

You let it go for now, knowing you would have to find out the secret later.

You nodded your head.

"Looks good. You did a marvelous job with the feathers." He told you.

"Thanks. They took me ages." You beamed.

He smiled, and you returned it by grinning.

Then he left to his office, leaving you to finish the final touches before moving on to the next wing.

Thank goodness you had all the feathers already done. They were a nightmare to weld together.

Once you had a good idea of where things were going, you started piecing the second wing together.

Adding small mechanics here and there, finally the second wing was done.

Now you just had to build the jets and attach them to the metal suit one of the other workers was working on. It was a two person project.

While you were originally intended to finish early and go home, you ended up working late.

You called the daycare and let them know that you were working late, and that you wouldn't be able to pick D/N up at the usual time. They said it was fine, and that they could keep her over night if needed.

You thanked them, then hung up.

You looked up just as Otto came from his office.

"Y/N, dear, why don't you go home?" He asked, a worried look on his face. You glanced around, finding it was just you and Otto in the building.

"Is everyone gone already?" You wondered aloud.

"I'm afraid so. You should head home, I can take care of things here."

You creased your eyebrows in a worried expression. "Are you sure? I dont want you to do more than you need to."

"I'm sure you have other things to do." You said at the same time. You both laughed.

"You have your daughter to take care of. You should go." Otto insisted.

"If you're sure." You spoke, then you smiled at him and gave him a hug- something that had become common since you had become friends.

"Please. Go be with your family." He said.

You gathered your things and left, waving to him. "See you tomorrow!"

"See ya!"

You exited the building feeling energized. Your heart was racing, blush on your face.

It happened again. You were flustered beyond imagine, and he only told you to go be with your family.

You got in your car and drove to the daycare. You picked up your daughter, then headed to your apartment.

It was late, nearing 10:00 at night. You sighed. "Sorry I couldn't pick you up sooner, honey. I got busy."

"Its okay! I had a lot of fun." She yawned.

But you weren't tired. Your thoughts were full of Otto, nothing else. You could hardly walk up the stairs and go the right door.

"Are you okay, mama?" You daughter asked as you closed your apartment door behind you.

"Mhm, I'm fine." You gazed at her lovingly.

Now that you weren't with Otto, the flashbacks returned.

"Which color do you like better? Pink or blue?" You asked Henry.

His jaw dropped as he saw the ultrasound pictures. "You're pregnant!"

That was when you had become pregnant with D/N. You didn't know it was a girl then, even though you and Henry had hoped it was.

You shook your head to clear the flashbacks. You weren't with him anymore.

You needed to get over it.

__

Taglist

@currvycurly

[rickie-the-storyteller]

The Looking Glass...

Hey guys! Great news...

I want to finally share who the mystery blogger is.

Just kidding lol. But I wanted to talk about it a bit more on here, since people have started to speculate about it (which is great btw!) and I wanted to go over its background and overall role in the story a little bit more.

I've gotten a lot of interesting guesses. Some of which make sense. Others that... well, don't. To put it as simply as possible. But that makes sense, seeing as I haven't shared much about it. Until now!

The Looking Glass wasn't always this controversial blog - it started out as an innocent space where the writer would share their opinions on life and words of wisdom, as well as their own creations and interests (whether that was poems/stories they liked to write, artwork they did, songs and playlists they'd listen to, videos, books/tv shows/movies they enjoyed or whatever else). In fact, it never used to be called "The Looking Glass." It was called "Geek Heaven." And it was written by a self-proclaimed geek (Obviously lol).

It wasn't until around November 2010 that the name changed to what it is currently (after several years of no posts at all, after one of their most popular posts got a ton of backlash and traction), and the whole site got a complete makeover. It got revamped into the blog it is by the events of book 2 - deep dives, commentary and analysis of news, trending world events and stories. While that was a small amount of what the blog used to do, it was now entirely what it was. And evidently, this was a good move. The Looking Glass picked up a LOT of popularity in a short span of time, and by the events of UVC, it had nearly a million followers (mainly from the UK, but in other places as well), got nominated for a bunch of awards (including the "Best New Creator Award," which was usually given to YouTubers) and was seen as a reliable source of news and info by a lot of people due to how well written and well researched it was, despite being run by an amateur.

What I will say about the identity of the blogger is that it's rather convoluted... I'm honestly still trying to make that aspect of the story a little more simple/neater, especially in the third instalment (which is where Stephanie finally finds out who it is. I will be sharing what I've got for book 3 so far at some point, don't worry). It isn't just a clear-cut answer of one singular person (I mean, it is. But other people are responsible for it, if that makes sense. This is why there are a ton of red herrings within this mystery - many people are related, but not every single one of those people is the blogger lol).

Another small clue I'll give is that it isn't Stephanie's stalker. You know that plot point of her being wary of someone seemingly stalking her once she starts the investigation? Yeah, that creepy person following her around and trying to freak her out isn't the same person who's been writing about her online. A few people think it is the same person, but it isn't. I won't tell you who the stalker is here, since that's not what this post is about, but to give you a little hint, it is another person we know. Not incredibly well, but still.

Here are the most popular guesses (as far as I know):

Alice - I think I've straight up said it wasn't her in the past... but one or two people think I've been lying about that lol (and by that, I mean my friends from school). I'm not. Making that clear right now. Alice is actually one of the main people trying to figure out the identity of the blogger. And fun fact - she actually finds out before Steph does. I guess she is a bit of a detective lol.

Ben - A guess I got when discussing this plot element with some friends... I noticed that most guesses where from the female characters, so I pointed out that I never mentioned gender in the blog's title or description. So then people started pointing at Ben (and other guys, but Ben mostly) since it would be a major twist if it were him. And I agree with that... but Ben technically already has a major twist in the story lol. Doesn't mean he can't have another one, tho. You know how I'm like.

Holly - Putting this one here for my sister, tbh. She loved the whole Holly storyline from book 1, and she wanted me to bring her character back somehow. And she does appear in book 3 briefly (that news will make her happy lol). It's interesting to think about, though, since Holly's whole thing was that she got expelled for cyberbullying and had to leave... only to be 'replaced' by Steph the following year. Like, she took Holly's place in the friend group. So there's a bit of a connection there, even if the two girls haven't officially met yet.

Bret - Another huge twist if it were true. And it sort of works on some level... He and Steph get really close in the sequel, and she does confide in him a lot. Alice also guesses him at one point due to not being able to trust him anymore. Understandable, I guess, considering what he does in the sequel.

Aisha - Haven't talked much about her or her sister on here, but I have with my school friends. They thought she's a good pick for the blogger because she's a writing student with the same level of sassiness that Alice has. It fits nicely, you must admit. Plus the other characters don't know her particularly well, but she is very observant and is good at getting to know other people.

Charlie - Red herring. But it fits well in terms of his general attitude. Another quick little fun fact - out of all the people to not know from the beginning, this guy is the first to find out. Not that that changes the overall narrative much... I mean, it's not like he does anything big with that info, but it's still rather cool.

Elise - Last person I'll mention here. This is a more recent guess I've got, so I thought I'd mention it. It's another one that would be a huuuuuge twist in the story if it were true, especially knowing what Elise is like as a character... and considering her arc throughout the story (especially her role as a rival to Steph in book 3. I felt like that was a logical step for her in book 3, since book 2 was her realising the reality of having Steph as a friend, and deciding that that wasn't what she wanted). She's very principled and very much about finding justice and truth, and she is also deeply hurt by a lot of Stephanie's actions, so there's some motivation to her potentially being the blogger as well... I'd say this fits, too.

I got other guesses, too (my fave being Dylan lol. Imagine freaking Dylan being the blogger lol. Connor was another one that got me🤣), but these ones are the most popular and intriguing to me.

Who do you think it could be? Let me know your thoughts!

More Steph's Crew-related stuff coming soon (as well as my plans for the blog as we wrap up 2023 and move on into the new year).

[narratingvoice]

[[A/N: this post was written in advance and has nothing to do with the plot arc going on right now]]

October 17, 2013. The most important and most joyous day of my life. Nine years ago today. I can't believe how time flies. Nine years that Stanley and I have been together, and I've treasured every moment with him. Just him and me, stepping forward into the unknown together, ready to start a new chapter of life, ready to dive into a wonderful relationship.

I mean a relationship with all of you lovely players, of course! Today is our anniversary! It's the release date of the original Stanley Parable! I made Stanley a cake for the occasion, and by "made" I mean "stole the asset from Portal". For the rest of you, I thought it would be nice to take a stroll into the Memory Zone and look at how far we've come. We were different people back then, so young and naive. We had no idea what kind of impact we would have on the gaming world. Did video games truly exist before 2013? I think not. Won't you come remember with me?

This is a media-heavy post, so here's a cut.

Oh look, it's the very first teaser trailer for the game, posted in 2012. I needed some capital investment to get my game studio off the ground, so I had a campaign on Steam Greenlight well in advance of launch. Remember when that was a thing?

Hm, that's odd, this video seems different than I remember. I'm hearing myself talk about "the original version", but this trailer is for the original version. There was no game at the time I made this. What was I talking about? I've completely forgotten. Oh well, onto the next memory.

And here's the trailer I posted the day the game came out. Look how many accolades we already had on launch day! Oh, I was so nervous about finally showing my work to the general public, I hid in the broom closet the whole night before. Does it surprise you to know that I had stage fright? A lot of people think my silky smooth diction comes naturally, but it's actually the result of practised training and months of rehearsals. Of course, now I've been performing for so long that I hardly know how to stop, haha.

This is Stanley's office viewed from my vantage point. I love looking down at this office more than anything in the world. Letting myself drift through the opening monologue, caressing the hallways with my voice, gently holding the story on my tongue and then releasing it with a flourish. And it will never get old to me, because every day with Stanley feels like a new adventure.

Do you have this achievement? Only 2.3% of players do, but those players are among the most special to me. I get so excited every time I see someone boot up the game on a late Monday night. We can spend the night together, just you and me and Stanley, just looking at the stars and living in the moment. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for committing yourself to me.

Oh, this is a fun memory. This is the introduction I wrote for the special collector's edition, which came out in 2016. I remember the late nights in my office, me and Stanley curled up next to a roaring fire as I read my latest draft to him. He never offered much in the way of feedback, but just the look in his eyes was enough to tell me if I was on the right track.

In 2018, I had the great honour of going on stage at the Game Awards to announce that Ultra Deluxe was in development. It was incredible to see so many adoring fans staring back at me. Um, please ignore the release date in this video. Can't bloody believe the remake of The Last of Us came out this year too...

And now, here we are. We're in the present moment. In the roughly six months since Ultra Deluxe launched, it's gotten over 14,000 positive reviews on Steam. I consider myself somewhat of an empath, and I can feel the love that millions of people around the world have shared for my game. No, for our game. Mine and Stanley's and all of yours as well. May we always feel this way, and if we can't, may we always remember when we did.

[wardenswateringhole]

This is a vent/get this of my chest thing. Also one of "talking about my problems will help others" situation.

Putting a break here for those who don't want to read that stuff.

Warning: long ass rant

It's no secret that my muse died. I'm still struggling to write even after that break. Sadly, I'm beginning to notice it affecting my art, or at least my perception of it.

I decided to do some research and reach out to a few people. I learned something interesting. It's not writer's block.

It's writer's burnout.

Writer's burnout is a completely different creature. It stems from many causes and the trick to beating it is to identity it's cause.

I think identified my cause and I would be lying if I said didn't feel a bit ashamed about it. All my preaching about taking care yourself first and I failed to follow the sentiment myself.

I've having gotten this much attention for my content in YEARS. I've gotten the polite nod and the stiff "that's good!" for a very long time. When I came on here and people began to express they like my work in ways that were geniuine, that was a high and a half. Seeing the reblogs, the comments, the likes, the followers, those little numbers go up and up and up made me feel so good.

So I started pursuing that high instead of just doing what I enjoyed. I create to impress rather than just for enjoyment and self fulfillment. I even became competition for myself. I wanted to top the numbers on previous posts and see if I could reach higher numbers than before.

The slice of life of Ingo having his first cup of coffee after returning from Hisui has been the most explosive piece I've done to date. I literally sat down and threw that together in the span of maybe 7 minutes. In the course of a day it broke 100 likes, a number I never thought i'd ever reach. It continued to grow and I still see stray likes on it every once in a while. It's my most liked written piece on here.

It absolutely boggled my mind. A little piece that I just spat out got that much attention. What would happen if I wrote a serious piece then? Every piece that I have written since has been in competition with that post. I wanted those greater numbers so badly. When my try hard pieces got far less attention than my "spit-out" pieces... I guess it kind of began to skew my view of my abilities.

I had thoughts of writing a book around this time. If my effort pieces weren't as good, why bother then? If I wrote a high effort book, it would most likely be ignored if the number were anything to go by. Was I even that great of a writer? We're all those comments just people being over the top and trying to make me feel good about myself?

All-nighter was the final blow. I had written that over several days. I struggled with it hard. I finally posted it thinking people would clamour for it like the previous Clavell posts. They didn't. Serious heavy doubt set in.

I strive to improve my craft for myself. It is a form of self fulfillment. It's like leveling up in a video game for me. I love seeing how I improve over time. Unfortunately I began to mistake attention for exp and I wasn't leveling up at all. So now I'm facing a boss that should be going down according to my perceived level, but it isnt.

And so, I need to grow. Correctly this time. While the numbers and comments are nice to see, I'm going to try and not let them affect my perception of my own worth. At the end of the day, my creations are for me first and foremost. Not to feed some compliment machine. The numbers are decoration at best.

I hope this helps someone else out there struggling as well.

Now if you will excuse me, I have a lot of apologizing and catching up to do with myself.

[impablohurtado]

After 2 years in Milwaukee

Preface: I’ve sat down and revisited this post multiple times this year, never 100% sure it was where I wanted it to be. I’ve been in Milwaukee for a few months short of two years now and I can truthfully say I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. Some days are worse than others, but for the most part I have not had to look for a reason to keep going, simply living to see the next day was enough. Still, every time I sat down to write I found myself gravitating to topics I didn’t feel were filling my day to day, but instead were what I have known and written about in the past. Instead of sitting and waiting I am sharing what I have been able to put down so far.

Over the last 3 years, the majority of what I’ve written has centered around grief and the emotions that accompany it; guilt, sadness, confusion, and anger. As time passes, I find myself less filled with these feelings and instead invigorated in life. I feel alive for the first time since I stepped away from community work. I can't help but also feel guilty. During this time, I couldn’t continue to work through all that had passed in my life without feeling like I was doing a disservice to my mom. I know it’s silly of me to feel this way because she was always encouraging me to get out there and enjoy life, even when she couldn't do so herself. It's taken time for me to live without that guilt.

I don't believe grief ever goes away, but I’ve finally stepped outside the revolving door that holds the worst parts of it, even if I sometimes find myself stepping back in when I least expect it. A win is a win.

At thirty-one I’ve learned to cope with grief in ways my mom never could… but then, she successfully pushed through for nearly 50 years. Until all the pushing gave way and the force that crashed back down on her was one that she couldn’t get through. I keep my fingers crossed that I overcome that hurdle when I get there if it ever appears in my path.

One of the most difficult parts of grief is learning to live again. You are forced to re-learn how to exist in a world without the person you’ve lost. With a parent, before they are gone, you are the person they raised, you're their child growing up. After they are gone, you are an entirely new person left to navigate the world with the lessons they taught you, translating those leasons to real-world decisions in your everyday life. It's a very difficult thing to square with yourself. From waking up in the morning to enjoying a cup of coffee, a part of you feels that when you're doing these things, you're also doing them for the person who is no longer there. You have to enjoy it more, you have to take it in, you can't waste a single moment.

The instinct is to recover. You are broken, and you must put back the pieces to be you again. But in reality, you are building someone entirely new, someone you don’t know as well. Nothing can stay whole forever, that's especially true about people. Even after rebuilding yourself, you're never entirely solid again because that little piece of them, the one that made up a part of you, is now just a space they left behind.

I often feel that I experienced this two-fold in having been on my own for the last three years, not having a relationship to lean into on the harder days. I had to learn to live with myself and work through everything I was feeling without a crutch.

I lost my uncle several years before my mother and that remains the last time I was inside a church. He was the first significant loss in my life and the circumstances surrounding his death gave me someone to blame. It also opened my eyes to who I could not turn to, religion. When he passed that door was closed for me. My own history with the church is complicated, I went from being constantly in church groups to splitting entirely from what had been part of my life for many years. As I've gotten older, I have become less critical than I was in the years that followed, acknowledging it is a necessary institution for many, even if it will never be for me.

Apart from my uncle, I’d known friends before who’d passed away, from suicide, overdose, these distant reasons that never made confront our mortality. My uncle’s passing shifted my entire outlook on the world and my priorities in life. Life seemed too short to move without purpose. I became involved in activism and everything that came after. For many years I'd repeat the sentiment that I'm better at helping others than myself, I took pride in that. When my mother passed, in many ways I divorced myself from all I’d worked for up to that point and I was left with just myself. It took me a long time to put back the pieces of life and realize I could go on. To live, not only for my mother, but to live for me.

A few weeks ago, my grandmother passed away, and it made me sad for the time I missed with her. It'd been several years since I visited Mexico and saw her last. The morning I learned the news, I was sadder for my dad than anything else. When I spoke to him, we couldn't help but note that he's in his 50s, and she was 81, while I was still in my twenties with my mom. It's no consolation. No amount of time is ever enough. As I've gotten older, death has had a greater presence in my life. Part of living for yourself is missing out on moments with family. That's something I worried about before my move. Every time I visit back home, the kids are so much bigger. There's a give and take with being here, but I don't regret it.

The most difficult part of moving to a new city has been finding that I have continued living. Life has gone on in a way I didn’t expect it to. I moved away from the place I’d spent most of my life in and formed friendships which I had not been able to in many years, even in knowing they exist because of my proximity to my brother, I appreciate them. I have found a new way to exist completely divorced from the constant worry I lived with for so many years. It feels nice to have people I call friends, to have people to hang out with just for the reason we enjoy each other’s company, even if it took me a long time to be less awkward and feel like a part of the group. It’s helped me work on myself. The melancholy isn’t completely gone, but it’s manageable. Exploring the city with Fidel definitely helps.

It’s important to be truthful in telling people the guilt is still there. The guilt of feeling like I wasn't a good son, guilt of leaving my sisters, guilt that, as the eldest son I have a responsibility to keep the bonds of family strapped tight together. Maybe it’s a Mexican thing, feeling like there’s a responsibility ascribed to being my father’s first son. I spent so many years trying to undo damage that broke our family into pieces and make us a tight knight unit that could push through the worst of it. When I moved, I worried I was letting those bonds loosen, that not staying rooted where I was, was me turning my back on my family. Thankfully, I was wrong, and we are all as close as ever. It's funny, the distance if anything has brought us closer together.

I recently told a friend I cannot write as well because I just do not feel as sad as I used to. It seems silly, but it’s true. So much happened in my life I do not discuss with people. History that my siblings and I don't share that drastically changed the way our lives went. For a long time, I didn't know how I could get close to people without acknowledging these parts that shaped who I am. What I've learned is everything doesn't need be said as long as I've come to terms and found a way to work through my past.

I’m starting to learn that I can write without the feeling of the world crashing down on me. You cannot lose depression, it is always there, good days and bad. For years I could not separate myself from it. I made it more than an ailment, it became a new limb, it became a second set of skin that I clung to because I could attribute everything wrong in life to this ten-letter word. Going out meant to walk hand in hand with this part of me, but I've learned to leave it at the door when I step outside my home.

It took me almost 31 years on this earth to discover that I am more than my depression, I am more than all my bad days or even my good days and I am more than the pain I’ve lived through. Through all my experiences in life, I am a person who sometimes feels one way and sometimes feels another way, it takes effort every day, but I live through it and push on.