#progress ain’t linear

[rotdecaydraw]

Thanks for the dtiys @sproutwiki !! This was so fun to do ^-^

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

hi i just found your account and i want to read the slowpoke series but it feels a little daunting. would you be willing to make a masterlist thats chronological order? if you have already could you direct me to it?

Hi new friend, welcome to the (still a work-in-progress) Slowpoke Series!

Some of the stories are meant to be read out of order due to references, in which case starting from the top of the Masterlist and working your way on down would be the way to go because those are listed in order of publishing. The includes the first story 'Slowpoke' and second story 'Deal' that take place some time apart.

Non linear isn't everyone's cup of tea, though :)

Here's the list in order of when stuff happens chronologically so far in what's been published:

Quarter! S01, GN

How’s your head? Part 1 S01, F

How’s your head? Part 2 S01, F

The Chicken Swim S01, FI

“Deserved” Part 1 S01, GN

“Deserved” Part 2 S01, GN

It’s not the end of the wor - oh. S01, FI/GN

That mangy hick!   S01, GN

Southern Comfort, a Wii, and a big bowl of spaghetti.  S01, GN

Dead-end?   S01, GN

There’s also a bar.  S01, GN

Like a traditional Sunday dinner  S01, GN

Too much thinking before bed, Part 1  S01, GN

Too much thinking before bed, Part 2  S01, GN

Ain’t nothing...   S01, GN

Hell of a day  S01, GN

douche car.  Pre-S02, F

...but 'dirtbag car’ if the kids are listening  Pre-S02, F

Two idiots   Pre-S02, GN

What’s worth going postal  Pre-S02, GN

Bad things happen*  S02, GN

*in threes   S02, GN

Just one scrap, Part 1  S02, GN

Just one scrap, Part 2  S02, GN

Yesterday was rough S02, GN

White lies. S02, GN

It was a pragmatic cigarette   S02, GN

What were your nightmares about?  S02, FI

Better with a friend  S02, F/GN

Picking a flower = saving the day S02, F/GN

A cause for concern  S02, GN  

Oh my.  S02,  GN/FI

A mighty good team  S02, GN/FI 

A measure of reverence, Part 1   S02, F

A measure of reverence, Part 2  S02, F

souls stripped bare  S02, F

Invisible, tugging strings, Part 1 S02, GN

Invisible, tugging strings, Part 2 S02, GN

Spell your last name, please. S02, GN

He hasn't been himself S02, GN

Scary as a sleepy kitten S02, GN

"fondness" LOL S02, GN

Thank you, angel... S02, GN

Redemption Arcs S02, GN

That was it. S02, F

Stuck in a damn bed. S02, F

Shame on a plate S02, GN

Penance + (knock-off) Ambrosia S02, GN

Keep this dog asleep S02, GN <- new one!

Slowpoke  Pre-S03, GN

A fu---n’ great Christmas  Pre-S03, GN

The first Christmas “without,” Part 1  Pre S03, GN

The first Christmas “without,” Part 2  Pre S03, GN

I don't hate you Pre S03, GN

Deal  S03, GN

Happy 8th of July!  Pre-S04, GN

Every step.  S05, F

The Interview (story line no longer in limbo)   S05, F

After the interview   S05, F

Still beating Pre S09, F

The best kind of damn weird   Pre-S09, F

[that-rackin-frackin-varmint]

#31 — 07/29/2022 8:47 AM

We need to talk about The Looney Tunes Show's depiction of Daffy and Porky’s friendship, cuz it’s pretty funny if not sad to watch at times

Like, Daffy never even realized how much trauma Porky caused him, but because he isn’t good at internalizing his emotions — he doesn’t let it affect his friendship with Porky. Like even tho he remembers his highschool trauma, it never affects how he treats Porky (for better or worse), and in his own weirdo way — he still holds him high enough in importance that he’ll go to him for help.

Also, Daffy not even considering Porky in his top 5 feels like a case of Daffy’s words not accurate to his actions. He goes to Porky for a lot of things. If not Bugs, he’ll take him out on a date. If not Bugs, he’ll rant off to Porky. If Bugs isn’t available, he’ll often reach out to Porky instead. Everyone else he listed is sweet, but Marvin and Peter barely interact with him, and Foghorn Leghorn probably is a father figure to him. Tina would be tied for #2 or #3.

Porky does deserve the acknowledgement from Daffy that he’s his best friend. But I also wouldn’t put it past Daffy to be kidding Porky in a cruel way when he seems to disregard him as an option in front of him. He does to Porky what og Bugs does to og him. Cycle of frequent gaslighting 😔😔😔

All in all, Best friends redux was one of a handful of episodes in tlts which I feel made significant development in addressing Daffy and Porky’s relationship, and not undermining it all throughout. It feels like one with thorough development tbh over Daffy and Bugs’ — since those two kinda flip flop between progression to regresssion to stagnation — idk, episodic shows can just be like that. These two can be nice to watch when Daffy isn’t being absolutely dickish to him, but when Daffy does pull through for him, it feels all the more rewarding. So yeah, I enjoyed their friendship here. Good stuff.

I think it’s a guilt thing Porky had over Daffy. I think he also thought Daffy knew (which to him coulda been why he was passive to Daffy being shitty to him) — cuz he mighta felt like he deserves it for the way he treated him in highschool. Idk if Porky knows Daffy only just then remembered this in the highschool reunion episode — regardless, it doesn’t change the fact that Daffy kinda uses Porky’s meekness as an advantage.

Also it’s interesting to note that between Porky and Daffy, compared to Porky and Bugs — Porky is more likely to go at odds with Bugs than with Daffy. Porky, in spite of how he generally acts, does seem to have a spine when it comes to anyone else. But with Daffy, I think it’s an emotional vulnerability for him. Something Daffy keeps taking advantage of. I like to think after Best Friends Redux, Porky would become less meek — but this show ain’t focusing on linear storytelling so… hcs away!!!

Present day thoughts:

The Looney Tunes Show kinda made everyone think Porky's a doormat submissive type, which I still get petty about. But this show was good at making unexpected development between his and Daffy's dynamic.

I think a lot of the charm of this show comes from the implied backstories of the characters, as well as the loose continuity of its episodic nature. I liked the development between Daffy and Tina's relationship, and enjoyed seeing how Daffy seemed to make strides in developing friendships with the other characters.

The Dafpork energy of this show is miniscule compared to Baffy, but the incline in their friendship beats Duck Dodgers where the opposite happens (but that's a whole 'nother ramble).

[dragon-business]

Majima versus Omi

Where Majima, once again, went on a self-sacrificial crusade to help someone he cares about. Yaaay.

But really, after talking about Tachibana siblings and discovering how close his and Kiryu’s experience and pain from that time are, Majima was quite disoriented. After all, Kiryu's already was a pretty integral part of his life and played a big role in Majima getting his freedom. And then this, too? Knowing they share this soul crushing experience they literally can’t share with anyone else? Ohboy, that’s a lot.

Sure, Majima made a lot of progress in getting his life back, and living for himself, even left yakuza and everything. But progress is not linear, and the sudden weight of care he doesn’t know what to do with made him backslide a bit. Made Majima go out on a stubborn limb and try protecting Kiryu (and all of his own men), by taking out the whole wave of Omi invasion all by himself. Sure, he pulled it off, but barely. Sadly, the hard hat can’t save from all the concussions.

And not to be that guy, but all the reservations about physical contact went out of the window when Kiryu rushed to hold Majima. And how he held him, uh oh.

Poor Majima, struggling to stay alert through the concussion and knowing there’s a wholeass woman there with them, really tried to apply the suave flirting game. This was very funny, they should've expanded on that, Majima probably rambled all the way Kaoru carried him to the hospital..

And we’re so here for that.

– Majima: you know what they say about hips!.. gotta have a good grasp on them! Kaoru, who has a figure if a solid stick:

- Majima be like: you're the nicest smelling woman I've met, very alluring And Kaoru: I've just spilled a beer on myself half an hour before, trying to eat grilled ribs as fast as I can to make it to the meeting with Kiryu in time Majima: mmmm… ribs……. I bet mine are fucked up hahahahh

– Majima, way later: and then I saw the boobs so beautiful I blacked out Kaoru: but you were talking all the way I was carrying you to the doctor's office? Majima: you were there???? Kaoru:

She really wanted to hit him, but he had enough. He's still not quite there fully, lots of painkillers for the ribs.

– Majima: if I die… you tell Kiryu (says something so embarrassing the nurse turns purple)

It needs to be something pathetic, desperate, and gay.

Like: “Nishida has the will, it's all legal, all yours, watch over the boys, I'll be watching you from the pits of hell and beyond, so you better not have that little scowl thing going on for me, you better be happy, yes. Also you should have more buttons on the shirt open, pls, I'll be watching, pop some open for me sometimes, that's my dying wish ._,”

He is sobbing a little and is ready to go on talking till he reaches his actual last words.

(if something happens to Majima, the people from his family are all getting settled too, ofc. everyone is covered)

Kaoru: I'm not saying all that. you ain't gonna die, get a grasp, bitch. Majima: fair. I would love to get a grasp of Kiryu before I die. Kaoru: of Kiryu's what? Majima, trying to make hand motions: of all of him… Kaoru: I think it's called a hug. Majima, tearing up: a hug…

– Majima will get a hell of a hospital visit later. Nishida would cry. Stoically, but obviously.

Oh, and in private he furiously asked him why. Why did he do this? And Majima answers, curtly and matter of fact: “Well. Kiryu is safe, ain’t he? And can do what he needs to do.” And this is. Really something. 

Nishida watched Majima go from “I won't sit near him at lunch” straight to doing the most extreme shit for Kiryu. “For Tojo clan” my ass, he already left that circus.

Nishida thinks that Kiryu believes in the boss's power to survive… too firmly. This is a strong callback to the pier. Kiryu is too caught up in Majima’s energy of being able to crawl back out of anything. If Kiryu really believed that Majima got hurt really badly in the fight with Omi, he wouldn’t’ve pushed him onto Kaoru.

And maybe with the new Tachibana context Majima decided that he needs to be the guy who Doesn’t Die on Kiryu. You know. But he kinda missed the part where he got caught in the exact situation Tachibana was in. Kiryu believed that Tachibana could handle this terrible thing on his own for a bit, and went to do other things, and it ended in tragedy.

Oh Kiryu holding the person dear to him, while they bleed out in his arms, because he was too late. Yumi, Kazama, Rina – this list keeps growing ever since Tachibana, isn’t it.

And now Kiryu is clearly not thinking through his blind faith in Majima’s survival rates. Do you think he’ll be angry when Nishida, who’s very upset now, will tell him that he’s not seeing things clearly? Angry at himself, obviously. And a little bit at Majima, for doing this. (It is a mess of feelings, huh)

Nishida really needs to say something though. Because Kiryu believing in the legendary strong and smart Majima-san, the best manager and untouchable fighter is straight up infantalistic behaviour.

Majima generally wants to help people. He’s very good at it. But his self destructive urges  get tangled in this too. He is also still repenting.

It can be a real hit for Kiryu – to realise that he was dragging Majima to the Mad Dog life without ever calling him that. Kiryu was doing to Majima what everyone did to him with the Dragon of Dojima expectations that are impossible to shake off because, well. Kiryu is also repenting.

So, for now, all Kiryu can do is come visit Majima in the hospital.

– before / navigation / next

[bonesandthebees]

So some more Glass thoughts. Aka, things I forgot about but remembered because of everybody else’s asks (for context I only read chapter 15 once and I have not read it since, so most is based on memory and a skim read this time around).

One of the things Jack also seems to be upset about is Tommy not telling anyone shot about Wilbur. He brought it up first in chapter 13 (I think) and now again during the fight. Clearly it upsets him because Wilbur is his friend too, but Tommy is hoarding the info. And it’s not as easy as saying that he’s in the right or wrong for this.

On one side, knowing certain things would make Wilbur easier to deal with for other people. If it affects their interactions, you could argue that they have a right to know. Niki and Jack don’t have bad intentions, much like Phil and Techno. Non of them can help Wilbur if they don’t know what the problem is and what the triggers are. And Tommy can’t and shouldn’t do all of this on his own. And since some things are very hard for Wilbur to talk about and Tommy is very observant, it might be better if Tommy gives out some info about Wilbur behind his back so he doesn’t have to say it himself.

On the other side, Tommy shouldn’t slip everything he knows because Wilbur has a right to privacy. So non of the Deathlinhs have a right to know anything about him that he doesn’t want them to know. They don’t get to know his name, or age, or past trauma. They don’t need to most of the time. It also builds trust between Wilbur and Tommy. He can tell Tommy all these things about himself because Tommy is the only person who will know. There’s no game of telephone spilling all his secrets. At least, not when it!s just him and Tommy. This allows Wilbur to trust and tell other people at his own pace, which is what Tommy wanted to achieve.

Over all it’s a pretty complicated situation and there’s no right side to argue. There’s arguments for both and it’s not as clear where the line should be. Some things should be shared, other things kept a secret. Sometimes Wilbur needs to be forced out of his comfort zone, other times pushing him will break him. The progress ain’t linear and ever interaction calls for a different method depending on a bunch of different factors. There’s generally no right way to go about it either.

But there’s still progress. Wilbur doesn’t try to run. Wilbur tells Niki his name. Wilbur stops pretending that he wants to leave. Wilbur wants to see a mirror and look at his reflection. That’s a big one, especially because he know he hated looking into mirrors at the start of the fic. Wilbur let's Tommy see his full face. Wilbur tells Tommy he’s 22. Wilbur is going to heal from this, but it’z going to take a while and a lot more progress, both negative and positive.

Also, since it’s speak your language day and I can’t exactly do an entire analysis like this, have a message for all you lovely people: Ik hou van jullie allemaal!

-🌲

no you're exactly right. the situation is very complicated. tommy is right not to disrespect wilbur's privacy, but at the same time it's a lot harder for the others to interact with him when they don't know what they're dealing with. of course, at least a partial solution is that tommy just straight up could ask wilbur "hey, can I tell the others [insert thing wilbur told him here]" but he doesn't. and while you could argue that that's simply because tommy doesn't think wilbur will say yes or he doesn't want him to feel pressured, let's not forget how tommy found out wilbur's name behind his back and started using it despite his protests. tommy isn't afraid to push wilbur out of his comfort zone. the only reason he hasn't asked is because again, tommy is possessive. he likes being the one who knows wilbur best. he likes being the person closest to him. it's childish and he convinces himself it's for other reasons, but that's at the root of it.

so the only way for wilbur to make progress outside of tommy is to do it on his own. which he does sometimes! he's finally wanting to see his reflection which is definitely huge. it's a long road, but progress is being made

also im sorry i'm answering this so late so it's definitely not speak your language day anymore but i'm proud to say that even though i don't know dutch i was able to recognize that as dutch at first glance!! (shoutout to my one belgian friend lmao)

[grandmastergriffin]

By K.Creighton _G

Going Through shit to become the shit

Six chapters

Going Through shit to become the shit

Ain’t shit nigger

Ain’t Done shit nigger

Ain’t gonna Do shit nigger

Still doing nigger shit

Going Through TUFF shit to become the TOP shit

Going Through shit to become the shit

Six chapters

Going Through crap to become the crown

Ain’t crap idiot

Ain’t Done crap idiot

Ain’t gonna Do crap idiot

Still doing idiotic crap

Going Through TUFF crap to become the TOP Crown

Essay: "Going Through Challenges to Achieve Greatness"

Life's journey is a tumultuous ride, often marked by trials and tribulations that test our resilience, strength, and determination. It is within these moments of adversity that we have the remarkable opportunity to transform ourselves and ascend to new heights. The path to success is not always smooth; it's a process of going through difficult situations that eventually lead us to become the best versions of ourselves.

Chapter 1: Going Through Crap to Become the Crown

In this chapter, we delve into the idea that facing difficulties head-on is a necessary step towards attaining greatness. Just as a diamond is formed under intense pressure, our character and potential shine brightest when we confront challenges. The metaphorical "crap" we encounter serves as the fertilizer for our growth, nourishing the seeds of greatness within us.

Chapter 2: Ain't Crap, Idiot - Recognizing Value in Every Experience

Here, we explore the notion that nothing in life is meaningless or without purpose. Even the seemingly insignificant or difficult moments carry lessons that contribute to our evolution. By reframing our perspective and acknowledging the value in every experience, we can extract wisdom and insights that propel us forward.

Chapter 3: Ain't Done Crap, Idiot - Embracing Unfinished Journeys

Success is not always linear, and incomplete endeavors do not equate to failure. We discuss how recognizing and embracing the unfinished aspects of our journey allows us to maintain a growth-oriented mindset. Through persistence and adaptability, we can transform incomplete efforts into stepping stones on the path to success.

Chapter 4: Ain't Gonna Do Crap, Idiot - Breaking the Cycle of Procrastination

Procrastination can hinder progress and growth. This chapter emphasizes the importance of breaking free from the cycle of avoidance and taking decisive actions. By setting goals, creating actionable plans, and maintaining discipline, we can overcome the inertia of procrastination and move closer to achieving our aspirations.

Chapter 5: Still Doing Idiotic Crap - Learning from Mistakes

Mistakes are an inherent part of the human experience. Instead of allowing errors to define us, we discuss how they can serve as valuable teachers. By acknowledging and learning from our mistakes, we enhance our self-awareness, resilience, and ability to navigate challenges more effectively.

Chapter 6: Going Through TUFF Crap to Become the Top Crown

In the final chapter, we explore the concept of embracing challenges that push us to our limits. Just as a phoenix rises from the ashes, our willingness to endure

"TUFF"

(Trying,

Unpredictable,

Formidable,

Fulfilling)

experiences propels us to the summit of success. By persevering through the most challenging situations, we earn the metaphorical "top crown" of achievement and self-mastery.

This essay highlights the transformative power of embracing challenges and navigating through them with determination, resilience, and a growth-oriented mindset. As we journey through life, it is through the crucible of difficulties that we forge ourselves into the best versions of who we can be

[sanmisui]

Venting and rambling about writing:

Maybe my fanfic would be better off without all those smutty implications that I’m adding.

Seriously,,,,, the story would work either way. It’s just my stupid brain not understanding that it ain’t necessary for a fanfic to have these things. But also everything sort of sucks. My writing is painfully mid. The story is long and it’s been dragging me down and I have no idea what I’m doing anymore,,,, ughhh.

I have lotsa drafts,,,, but nothing fits into the current story. So I will make more stories once the current one is done,,,, but I know that the ending will suck. My brain is bad.

Nothing really matters, I’m just writing nonsense. I’m gonna take it out and just end the day and write something else n get back to the mid section later.

My writing isn’t linear. I start somewhere n add a break n go to the next section and then I go back to fill the blanks and connect the plots together.

Sometimes I need to shove things back or take them out entirely. That’s just how the creative progress works,,,, it is what it is,,,,

I wish somebody would give me clearer instructions on what to add and what to leave out. I mean,,,, who the fuck wants to read about washing the dishes? On multiple occasions?? It adds some minor detail and it makes the story longer… ooooooh the story is so goddamn long I think it’s almost at 100k words???? How did I even do that? It’s been 6 months. Is that good or bad? I don’t read that many stories. Or only short ones. But they get everything done and sorted easy peasy,,,,, my story is filled with convoluted garbage and it’s just a retelling of the goddamn anime for the most of it,,,, with a few extras and boiiiii is it boring? I’m bored. Not sure if that’s just me cuz I know what my brain is cooking up and boi did it add too much sugar to the alphabet soup,,,, who the fuck adds sugar to their soup anyways?????

I avoid conflict. But I need conflict. I gotta write about the goddamn conflict. How do I write? Hell, I haven’t got a clue as to what I’m even doing with this story. It’s an x Reader Story, there won’t be that many people craving for it’s conclusion… I think I hate the story cuz I put too much of myself into the personality of the mc. Yeahhh maybe that is it?

I also suck at writing the dude who we r romancing. Maybe it’s all just too much of a mess?

But I still need to finish it!!!! I can’t just drop it? It’s almost done! Just… uh… a few more chapters?

Maybe 2 or 3? I could end it rather quickly if I end it on a sour note. Would people hate me for that? Probably. It might be for the best. I am not really vibing with this story anymore. I already ruined it for myself. N I put too much pressure on my mushy brain. It’s gonna be over soon… hopefully. Maybe I’d be more hyped about it, if people gave me better feedback? There isn’t much of a reason for me to keep writing. But I would hate for it to end without a proper ending. So I’ll write an ending and get it done and then I will start with something new.

Maybe I’m merely sad cuz I didn’t get as much interaction as I would’ve liked? My confidence is frail. If people don’t give me input on how things are for them, I’ll assume that they hate everything that I came up with. But once it’s done and released, it’d be blasphemous to go back and rewrite it…

Heck the story doesn’t even have a proper title. It pops up when u search for the character… which is bad!! Cuz the story is rated M but there don’t seem to be any hindrances for accessing it??? It’s just up on Google and anyone can click on it??? If you search for it on quotev, u gotta turn on adult content to see it but what’s the point if Google smacks it right in your face???

It prolly doesn’t fall under mature content… I haven’t written a whole lot of heehoo stuff cuz I’m too much of a coward. Godddd I should’ve put it on ao3 instead… but it’s too late for that and also… I like quotev. U can add pictures lolol. It’s more befitting of a beginner such as myself. But I should’ve tagged it better? Honestly, I’ve never written a serious story before. No idea what to tag outside of the characters. Hell. I don’t even know where the story is going or what’s going to happen next, cuz I write as I think and I think as I go and I’m not doing a whole lot of planning ahead.

I’m rambling so goddamn much on this post here cuz I don’t have any friends or confidants. No way of asking for directions. It’s always just me talking to myself for hours and my mental health is shredded like discarded papers.

Ughhhhhhhhh. I hate being creative. I think I’ll get something to drink and then I’ll just lay here for a bit.

[whump-in-the-closet]

time is relative and my wip reflects that because it sure as hell ain’t a linear progression but jumps from emotional scene to emotional scene with no thought to how these are supposed to fit into one timeline

[dead-set-goat]

Today I went hiking. I went well beyond my comfort zone, I did not cave in to anxiety. Me 1, mental illness 0!

Next time I go hiking or in a place where my anxiety “screams” I’ll feel better or maybe worse, but no matter how I’ll feel I now know not to beat myself over it for “ruining the progress made so far” as I once used to do though. Healing ain’t a linear path, I know that well now and I’ll try not to forget. Sometimes I’m jealous I can’t experience the world as anyone else does, sometimes I wish I could just blow my brains out, but I made a promise to myself that I’m going to travel and see the world, so I’ve got to pull through and heal. Every step counts and I think what I’ve done today was quite great.

I may just be saying things since it’s 11:11PM at time of writing this, but I’m really in the feels/pos

Good night!

[cha-melodius]

Fic vibes tag thanks to @heytheredeann​. 

Above the break are works and series currently in progress, as well as recently published standalones. Feel free to drop into my ask box if you have and questions or comments about them or any of my other fics! Full fic list under the break. Main links are to AO3. 

Kiss Ficlets on Tumblr (Firstprince, Napollya, Lokius)

RWRB, Alex/Henry

Flowers Only Grow Where There Are Seeds (white house gardener AU)

Tonight, You’re Gold (Olympics AU)

Our Get Along Oodie (grad students AU)

Body and Soul(mate) (bodyswap soulmate spy AU) cover art on tumblr

The Impossible Soul (westworld/android AU)

TMFU, Napoleon/Illya

Playing Cat and Mouse with the Light (non-linear partners-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers)

The Harrowed and the Haunted (paranormal investigator AU)

Black Moon (For All Mankind/space AU)

Just a Shot Away from You (5+1 ordered to kill each other)

Loki Series, Loki/Mobius

Ain't No Place for a Better Man (old west AU)

Enemies of the Ocean (stranded on a lifeboat AU)

Cold Light (Norway AU)

True Hollywood Romance (fake-dating actor AU)

Other Fandoms

No Ordinary Friend (The Pairing, Blond Calum/Ginger Calum, missing scenes from the novel)

RWRB, Alex/Henry

The Hazards of Unsolicited Toy Advice (pet store meet cute AU)

So Close to Something Better Left Unknown (spy AU, fuck or die) cover art on tumblr

False Dichotomy (You’ve Got Mail AU) cover art on tumblr

Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) (florist/cake artist wedding AU)

You're the Perfect Gift for Me (Alex is a Hallmark movie ‘bad guy’ AU)

This Hell of a Season (Nova-verse spies Christmas 3+1) cover art on tumblr

Taste the Way You Bleed (WWDITS AU)

In the Dog Days (supernatural/magic AU)

Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile (canon-divergent Kensington hookup AU)

Something To Be Proud Of (Edinburgh Pride AU)

Lessons in Foreign Diplomacy (1785 ambassadors AU)

Will You Brie Mine? (cheesemonger AU)

Step Into My Office, Baby (office AU)

Getting Clinical (STI clinic meet-cute AU)

Theory and Practice (rival grad students AU)

That's My Trouble (detective/ME AU)

Please Don’t Let Me Be So Understood (accidental couples therapy AU) cover art on tumblr

Always Where I Need To Be (roommates AU + David cuteness)

The Sky is Open (1970s Pan Am pilots AU)

All the Old Showstoppers (canon-divergent Celebrity Bake Off AU) cover art on tumblr

Nova, Baby (CIA/MI6 AU) cover art on tumblr

All for a Taste of the Honey (FBI agent AU feat. stripper!Henry)

May Your New Years Dreams Come True (office NYE party AU)

The Spirit of Giving (neighbors holiday party AU)

Class(room) Warfare (professors AU)

Sun in the Sky (You Know How I Feel) (post bonus-chapter canon)

(Forever) In My Way (5+1 of Henry getting in Alex’s way, AU)

Tiny Little Movies (drabble collection)

TMFU, Napoleon/Illya

Canon-Setting

All Comes Crashing (last night to live, confessions)

Love is a Deserter (canon-set exes getting back together)

A Home for the Holidays (decorating a Christmas tree)

The Life You Had in Mind (Glass Onion crossover)

Eyes on the Horizon (early relationship, sequel to “I Trust No One”)

A Kiss Away From Being Dangerous (4+1, warnings about being dangerous)

Loving You is Cherry Pie (5+1 Napoleon wearing aprons)

That's What Other People Do (outside observer, together but they just don’t realize it yet)

Double Dutch with a Hand Grenade (Illya wears short shorts, Napoleon loses his mind) illustration on tumblr

Cold Hands, Warm Heart (Illya comforts Napoleon)

I Trust No One (And Especially You) (Istanbul mission, the bath house)

Half Asleep (All Your Dreams Come Alive) (clothes/bed sharing + comfort after a nightmare)

Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Illya takes a bullet for Napoleon)

Another Sunny Day (ficlet; the boys have a picnic)

Good To Me (Illya does nice things for Napoleon, misunderstandings ensue)

Follow You Into The Dark (whumptober, presumed dead)

Where Doesn't It Hurt? (tropetember H/C, cleaning wounds)

All Your Little Words (5+1 Napoleon telling Illya “I love you”)

The Lost Art of Keeping A Secret (undercover as a couple)

Another First Kiss (6+1 stolen kisses)

Enough of a Natural Disaster for Me (apologies + kissing in the rain)

Impostors (sleeping with lookalikes, series)

What You Meant (5+1 Illya telling Napoleon he’s a terrible spy)

The Definition of Madness (time loop mission fic for whumptober)

And I Was The Boy Who Was Lucky (KY derby mission fic) cover art on tumblr

Light Will Keep Your Heart Beating in the Future (nonlinear sleep deprivation)

Love is a Chemical (Illya gets dosed with a love potion)

AUs

How’s About Cookin’ Something Up With Me? (teacher AU, baking)

Another Christmas Song (This Time I’ll Sing Along) (neighbors AU)

Consider the Price to an Elf (santaland AU)

A Hard Habit To Break (canon-verse AU, secret relationship)

White Knuckles (Olympic figure skating AU) cover art on tumblr

The Makings of a Perfect Christmastime (Christmas in Connecticut AU) cover art on tumblr

Love is a Losing Game (60s chess AU; series) cover art on tumblr

The Best Thing About NYC is You and Me (modern roommates art student/fashion designer AU; series) part 1 cover art on tumblr, part 2 cover art on tumblr

Love Is A Great Teacher (professors AU; series) cover art on tumblr

Loki Series, Loki/Mobius

Don We Now Our Gay Apparel (ugly holiday sweater office AU)

Got My Love to Keep Me Warm (stranded at a Christkindlmarkt)

It's Been a Bad Day Lately (post s01 time loop)

The Truth is Just a Rule That You Can Bend (canon-divergent AU, secret relationship, fallout of Roxxcart divorce)

The Hardest Cut (bodyguard AU)

My Name Stitched On Your Lips (exes getting back together AU)

You, or Your Memory (troptember amnesia, fix-it)

Once in a Lifetime (Bookshop/GO AU) cover art on tumblr

What Makes A Good Man (Art Thief/CIA Agent AU; series) part 1 cover art on tumblr, part 3 cover art on tumblr

Mandalorian, Cara/Din

You Left Me Under Your Spell (15 independent one shots or short multichaps)

Hanging On For Dear Life (8 stories inspired by songs from the album Dear Life by Brendan Benson)

Do You Want to Know a Secret? (epic story of Din, Cara, and the kid following season 1)

Crossovers

Maybe, This Time (Mandalorian/BSG, Cara/Din, Lee/Kara) cover art on tumblr

Familiar, But Not Too Familiar (Mandalorian/Witcher, Cara/Din, Geralt/Jaskier)

[burningthemidnightcityoil]

ON CLASSES

Classpects run on Irony, Puns, Wordplay, and each class has a secondary verb, in addition to the one they share with their pair.

Witch - Which. “Choose / Choice”. A Witch chooses power. Witches are the Powerhouse of the Session(cell). They are akin to Thieves, for a Witch takes power. But the difference here is that a Witch doesn’t need to take it from other people, a Witch takes back their own power from whatever Guardian (or “familiar”) has it. Its not like an Heir, where the Heir can just wait for it to come; a Witch has to grab it or be forced into its service.

Heir - Air/Err. “Inherit”. An Heir inherits power. While Heirs are akin to the Page, where they both inspire others to help them; the difference here is that Heirs will inspire others to Guide them (Literally inspire others to act as Seers), while Pages inspire others to Serve them (Inspire others to act as Knights). Heirs don’t like being Served (In fact, Heirs Homestuck-Historically have conflicts with Guardians because of their Service), and Pages don’t like being Guided. (Most Pages tend to talk smack about those trying to Guide them)

Mage - Magician. “Perform”. Mage’s are showy, in addition to being knowitalls. How you are Seen is Important. There are three Mages, two known and one HC’d, that give this. Sollux, inspite of his problems, is a Show Off and tries to play it off Smoothly. His performance is more important than his powers (Or Spells, if we’re dedicated). Meulin also tends to be Showy. Both by showing off her favorite couples, and by her Disciple self showing off her rommance on literal cave walls. HC’d Mage, Diamonds Droog / Draconian Dignitary, is all about the Show and the Class, and not about Flash Powers or Transformations.

Seer - To See. “Envision”. Seers See Seas. What you see is important. Unlike their counterpart, the Mage, A Seer’s visions are more important than their Spells. (This is inspite of the fact that both Mages and Seers are equally capable of both Visions and Spells, as well as Performance. It seems what what indicates if you’re a Mage or a Seer is if what’s important is How you are Seen, or What you See; A Mage wants to be Seen, a Seer wants to See).

Thief - To Steal / To Steel / Steel yourselves. “Enforce”. If Knights are the Law, Thieves are the Enforcers; because they literally reinforce themselves by taking what they want. Let’s take this a step further, and include all definitions of Enforce Thieves Strengthen, Intensify, Force, Drive and Urge whatever they set their sights on, to be what they want it. (After all, they Steal, or Take By Force / Violence)

Rogue - To Go Rogue / Haywire. “To Cross”. Rogues are pretty good about making connections, and making connections work; be it between people, or their Aspect. (Roxy between her Friends and her Windows; Nepeta with her Romances)

Knight - Night. “To Bare / Bear”. Bear hands? This may seem outlandish, but the origin of the word Night is “Bare” or “To be Bare of Sunlight”. And Knights tend to put on a kind of Mask, or Shield, or rather, Helm / Helmet as they feel their weaknesses (or what they think are their weaknesses) feel bare to the world (Dave and his Sunglasses; Karkat and his Temper; Latula and her Gamer Attitude).

Page - Chapter. “To Assemble” YOU BOY, EQUIP ARMS. This one took a bit, but what’s a Page without a Chapter? Be it a Chapter in a Book of Pages, or a Council to of all those they have called on to serve them. A Page is a Knightly figure that has a Round Table, akin to a Rogue’s Merrymen. A Page inspires others to play Knight to them, or to serve them. To call to Arms, or call to Action. So basically, if Robin Hood is a Rogue’s Mythic figure, King Arthur is a Page’s mythic figure. So literally, all those a Page calls on personally, makes them apart of their Round Table of Knights. (Wait, does this mean that HS^2 Jane is Morgan Le F--)

Maid - Made. “To Make” Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice. Maids are the Makers. They don’t so much as Maintain, though they do that too, as they create. Consider. Aradia is a prime example. She dies, so she makes Time for herself as a very powerful Poltergeist. She becomes a Robot, and makes Time for Herself by her many many Robot Time Copies, or as Time is Numeral, making Numbers. She becomes a Godtier, and suddenly, Time in the Dream Bubbles align perfectly with the Present. Notice how when we are first introduced to the Dream Bubbles, Time was a real nonlinear pain. But when Aradia took the Reins on this Time Management Stuff, and suddenly the Dream Bubbles were Linear and aligned with our Story. She did want to see the end, after all (And the more living Time Gods entered the Bubbles, the more Linear things became) For Porrim, its about Making Space for others in both her various views and her uh... Various Views. For the Dolorosa, this included making Space for herself, and for her son. She possibly even helped direct him closer to the idea of Freedom (And he did see visions of another space in time...)

Sylph - Sylvan / Wood Threshold. “To Matter” Okay, this one is like the Knight’s, if not more complicated (and likely gonna require more development in the future, cos this took waaay too much digging for my liking). Thing is, Sylph is a difficult thing to name from name alone unless you look into the word itself. Because its derived from Sylvan “Of the woods”. But we break that down into two things. Silva, the Woods, and Hyle, Matter. Hyle / Hule is already the Greek word for Matter or Wood in any case. And our word for Matter is already derived from Mater, the Latin word for Mother. (The original English word was displaced by Latin; Andwork was once our word for Matter). Unfortunately, I can’t quite make the connections here yet, so I’m not sure if “To Matter” is the proper verb. I can, however, describe some loose connections that at least tell me I’m on the right track: ... Sylphs are defined by their Environment; Such as Kanaya’s relations regarding Trolls (A motherly figure), Aranea defined herself by Information and giving Information (which ain’t healthy), Mindfang defined herself a Thief because the Troll Empire was lead by a Thief And HC’d Sylph of Mind, Snowman was, quite literally, the Universe (And its Multiverse, which is a Mind thing). So a Sylph defines herself by her “Woods”, or like a Nymph / Dryad, by her “Tree / Wood / Matter”. And when you kill the Tree / Wood, you kill the Sylph, and vice versa (Destroy the Matriorb, and Kanaya dies; Kill Snowman and you kill the Unvierse; Mindfang was murdered, and her Enlightenment about the Doc died with her).

Prince - Principle / Foremost. “To Postulate” Its the Principle of the matter. For Princes, Principle and Code are key, and they will follow these as a fundamental truth (and be damned to anything else). This is likely what it was meant when they were called a Destroyer Class, because they do tend to destroy all avenues when it doesn’t fit their Principle. A Group of Princes could be called an Argument. For Eridan, both the system he resided in, and his own internal narrative (his Hopes), were his fundamental truths. And in the end, it fucked everything up. For Kurloz, his Belief System and his chosen Lord were his Fundamental Truth (And Rage is about Truths; so this guy didn’t just have a fortified castle, he had an entire armored country) For Dirk, the Character someone presented was the Truth of the matter, and the Character he presented. He believed that all versions of him were Him, and that was his biggest flaw, because they weren’t. AR was no more Dirk Strider than Bro was. ... And unfortunately, one version of him took this very literally (HS^2).

Bard - Barred / Bar. “To Prevent” Bards are quite the Wild Card, because how the hell do you manage destroying stuff for other people’s benefit and it actually ensured that it is a benefit? But from our few examples, Bards do act as great barriers. They keep things on the path because if you didn’t have that barrier, you wouldn’t progress, or you’d go too far too quickly, or things could go out of hand. For Gamzee, he tends to invoke the idea of the Barrier Maiden (He does roleplay a fairy / maid). He can’t die cos he’s a Cosmic Keystone to things happening like they’re suppose to. Paradox Space, literally, cannot let him die because it needs him to complete the Alpha Loop [By extension, no Doomed Timeline ever has a Dead Gamzee, he’s just that important, the stupid fuck] / [consider the theory that he also absorbs his alternative selves to keep his keystone status; like how Rose absorbed her alternative dream self] (Though when you take him from his story / destiny / fate, he’s just another mortal shitty clown). Gamzee prevented Rage, for Homestuck to continue as its intended narrative. For Cronus, his little Hope Quest was a direct line to Lord English (being the evil wvizard in his little Harry Potter fantasy). But this blew up royally, because as it turns out, it isn’t up to the Beforus Trolls to do shit. So just as Gamzee’s crisis of Fate put things back on the Path to LE and prevented catastrophe, Cronus’s crisis caused catastrophe. He prevented Hope for the Beforus Trolls, because it wasn’t their Story. And now for my HC’d Bard of Doom, Clubs Deuce. He does exactly what it says, he Prevents Doom. Inspite of what it appears, he’s highly competent because that prevents things from going to hell. For CD, he prevented Doom, for his Crew, and the sessions he’s involved in. And any time CD tends to disappear from the picture, is when things go to hell fast (For the Crew, Cans showed up; for the Beta Session, he was a mere herald for the doom that was already coming and his death cinched it)

[boxoftheskyking]

Pick Up Every Piece - Part One

Ok things to know: -this does not take place in China. It does not take place in the US. It is the year 2000 in a fictional country that I control (this project is a challenge called Let’s Do Exposition). Just go with it. -It’s all talking. That’s what I do, you know this. -Warnings for stuff, I dunno I haven’t written it all yet. When it’s shiny it’ll go on AO3 but for now here’s what I got so far.  -There is a lot of alcohol in this fic -Like all fic writers I live on positive reinforcement and this shit is a lot of work. -The title may change, yes it is from NMH

---

There are bodies in the creek bed. Enough bodies to stop the flow of the water. Thirty at least, a dam of them. An old woman and a child. Clothes and hair sodden, darkened and wet. Clouds of darkness hovering in the air around them, seeping into dead flesh. An old woman and a child and others. Others in that middle age, the age that passes comment. Is it wrong that these two bodies stand out to him? After all, if he were among the bodies, if he was lying in this creek bed, thirty, skinny, and unremarkable, he would hardly notice himself. He’d blend into the pile, only serving to make the word a plural. Body becomes Bodies. Alters the language. Murder becomes Massacre. There are thirty bodies and hundreds, thousands of flies. Crawling on the back of the little boy’s hand. A smell like—not burning, not quite. Death. Not rot, fresh death. The sand under his feet is nearly dry. The creek bed is dry.

Wei Ying blinks. The creek burbles on alongside him, one duck lazily riding the current under a fallen branch and along to somewhere more interesting. It’s October, and beautiful, and there’s the smallest twilight bite in the air pricking at his nostrils on every inhale. He blows out a long breath and finds himself scratching at his arms, the backs of his hands, where the old scars are. They’re ugly, blotchy and dark like land masses on a faded old map, and they still itch sometimes. He rubs at them hard with the heel of his palm—it’s a weird half-feeling, the layers of dead tissue. It’s not dead, Wen Qing would correct him. It’s not necrotic, it’s just scarring. 

He steps around the gnarled roots that reach up from the banks, trying to get to the road but not ever making it. There’s a few muddy stuffed bears tucked among them, plastic wrap snagged on the bark from cheap drugstore bunches of flowers that have rotted away. A couple of carefully hand-painted wooden signs nailed to the trunks, trying to convince the place that people still remember.

He shakes himself and turns away from the woods, hopping the fence onto the road that leads to the bar. He’s late, but Li Chen is always late in the mornings so he deserves to work an extra fifteen minutes. It’s not like there’s a manager to yell at him.

The bar is across the street from an old gas station, one that got firebombed during the war and then left. That’s the thing about Yiling. Everywhere else, even up in Gusu, the cities have gotten rid of as much evidence as possible. Well, they’ve gotten rid of most and turned the rest into memorials to the victorious dead, nice and shiny and flying the Sunshot flag. Nobody really cares about appearances around Yiling—maybe the city council does, but they don’t have anywhere near the budget to run cleanup. Too much actual infrastructure got hit during the worst of the fighting, and they’ll be years behind the rest of the country for the next decade or so. Memorials here are all handmade, and none of them last long.

There’s a flag, though, spray painted on what’s left of the concrete wall of the gas station. A golden hand covering most of a red sun, partly covered by black—one finger for each of the four leading clans and a thumb for everyone else. Typical. He’s not sure who’d have painted a Sunshot here. No one local, he’d put money on it. He supposes they know about spray paint in Lanling—governments must adapt.

It’s probably intentional, anyway, the lack of cleanup. The lack of progress. Nightless City can be repurposed by the Jin government, but the site of the Massacre should stay ugly and busted for a few more years. So no one forgets what it looks like to lose.

Wei Ying likes it in Yiling. “It’s my kind of town,” he always tells Jiang Cheng, who usually throws something at his head. “You want to be a bartender in a town like this. In a town like this, people need a bartender. It’s nice to be needed, you know.” 

It’s a shitty bar by any other place’s standards, but for Yiling it’s cozy. The owner, who everyone just calls Granny, still orders sawdust for the floors like it’s 1860 or something, to soak up spills and puke and, occasionally, blood.

Jiang Cheng always says it’s only a matter of time before they have murder in the bar. “Manslaughter, at least,” he’ll say. “It’s just got that look.” Wei Ying says everyone in Yiling’s too tired. Mostly he and Wen Ning just roll drunks out onto the sidewalk and into a cab if someone can afford it. 

Jiang Cheng himself comes in around eight. It’s as much of a rush as they ever get, so he has to wait for a few old men to get their cheap lager and gin before sliding up to the bar on his usual stool. Wen Ning gives him a cheerful salute as he comes in, and Jiang Cheng nods awkwardly back at him.

“You’re back early,” Wei Ying says, drawing him a pint of something bitter. Jiang Cheng still lives in Yunmeng, in the old family home, but he has a sublet in Yiling now that he’s working for the intelligence department. Jin Zixuan calls it “cutting his teeth” monitoring old Wen strongholds. Jiang Cheng calls it “shoveling shit.”

It turns out cleaning up a civil war is a pain in the ass, even five years later.

“We should do lunch with Wen Qing on Saturday. She’ll want to see you.”

Jiang Cheng pulls out his annoying little planner, full of his cramped handwriting and meetings with this informant and that police sergeant. “Have to be brunch, I’ve got a twelve-thirty on Saturday.”

Wei Ying snorts at him. “Brunch, in Yiling. Good luck.”

“Hangover breakfast, then.”

“That we can do.”

Jiang Cheng takes a long pull of his beer and Wei Ying can see the relief run down him from the crown of his head down over his shoulders like something hot and slippery. Oil maybe, or homemade noodles. He groans and drops his head down behind his glass.

“Hey, Wei Ying!” An arthritic hand waves at him from the other end of the bar.

“Gotcha, Riseung,” he calls and starts fishing for the kahlua and cream. It’s always at the back of the cooler; no one else ever orders it. “You’re gonna work yourself into an early grave,” he tosses back at Jiang Cheng. 

“Not if you keep giving me beer.”

“Hey, Wei Ying, I saw that story last week. Hell of a thing.” Li Riseung has a little cream mustache, but Wei Ying’s not going to mention it.

“The gas thing?” Wei Ying grins at him. “Yeah, I’m telling you, it’s all connected. You watch the prices when Lanling tries to pass another referendum. It’s all supposed to soften you up. You got something for me today?”

“Still writing your conspiracy theories?” Jiang Cheng calls to him. “Some guys just don’t know when to quit.”

(Someone else comes up, he pulls a pint of stout.)

Riseung bristles. “Wei Ying is the only real journalist left in this country. You’ll see.”

Wei Ying props his chin on his folded hands and waits. Riseung takes another long sip. “Yu Xiuying’s got her popcorn maker up and running. She’s starting to sell what she can, make enough to get the theater back in order.”

“Really? That would be something. I’m sick of taking the train every time I want to see a movie.”

“You should report on that, get her some customers.”

Wei Ying drums his fingers on his chin. “Maybe we can work out an ad situation. I need more ads, you know. Papers ain’t cheap.”

Riseung finishes his drink, sets the glass down on the bar. He half-reaches for his pocket. “So, do I owe you, or . . .”

Wei Ying stifles a sigh. Technically it’s nothing he can use. He’s not about to publish an expose on popcorn. Still, he waves a hand. “Your money’s no good here. Go on, keep up the good work.”

The man grins up at him, flashing a row of silver fillings, and heads over to bother someone else. 

(Another customer—rum and Coke.)

“You’re just letting people drink for free, huh?” Jiang Cheng says. Wei Ying wanders back over to him, taking a sip of his own drink (coffee, plus whiskey, just enough to get through the shift).

“Reporting is all about cultivating sources, Jiang Cheng, even you should know that. Li Riseung is a source.”

“A source,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “He’s a drunk.”

“So’s everyone. This whole country’s full of drunks. Drunks make the world go around.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “This city is fucking depressing.”

“Oh, and all of Lanling’s sober, is it? Yunmeng? Everybody’s living like Lans? You’d be much more pleasant with a few more of these in you.” Wei Ying grabs his pint glass and dumps the end of it out, refilling in the same smooth movement. It’s just out of spite. He shouldn’t be wasting a good few ounces of genuinely nice beer. But he can’t help it; Jiang Cheng brings it out in him. He spins and shimmies a bit to the bad pop song coming from the busted speaker above him and grabs a bin of limes to chop.

“When are you going to come home?”

Wei Ying doesn’t slip and cut himself, but it’s close.

“I live in Yiling, Jiang Cheng.”

“Yeah, for now.”

Wei Ying sighs. “I like it here, okay? You think they’d let me back in Yunmeng, after everything?”

“I’ve got influence now. They wouldn’t say anything.”

(Two lagers, shot of tequila.)

He hasn’t lived in Yunmeng in years. Almost a decade now. He was in Yunmeng at the start of everything, when Wen Ruohan was forced out of office and half the military went with him. He visits now, but there’s still that sense of before when he’s there, like the majority of his life hasn’t happened yet. But Jiang Cheng is never going to get that, he’s a linear person.

“Not saying anything isn’t the same as allowing. I’m not going to make you fight all day just so I can work at some bougie wine bar somewhere.”

“You wouldn’t have to work at a bar. You could—”

“What? Write? You think anyone anywhere is going to hire me at a paper again? Despite all the rumors, you’re not that dumb.”

“Fuck off. You could work with me.”

“Intelligence. Really? How do you think that would work out? ‘Yes, Jin Zixuan, whatever you say, Jin Zixuan—’”

“Fuck off.” 

Wei Ying shakes his head and scrapes a pile of lime wedges back in the bin. “I like where I am. I’ve got the paper—”

“It’s not a paper.”

Wei Ying doesn’t slam the knife down, but it’s a close thing. “Jiang Cheng—”

“You’re such a fucking martyr. What, you lose your dream job so you go to the ass crack of the world and set yourself up as king of nowhere?”

“I’m not king of anything, I’m just writing.”

(Three glasses of white wine.)

“Yiling Laozu.” Jiang Cheng clicks his tongue. “I know you can’t use your real name, but that’s embarrassing. Laozu. You and your sources.”

Wei Ying takes a breath and unclenches his jaw. “If Wen Qing were here you wouldn’t be calling us embarrassing.” 

“You’re embarrassing. She’s not embarrassing.”

“It’s our paper.”

“Wen Qing has dignity. You have none.”

Wei Ying gathers up his knife and cutting board to run them back to the dish pit. “Ah, Jiang Cheng, you love me. I know you do.”

It’s always a good way to end a conversation, their own private code. If you keep pushing here you’re going to break something. A warning. You love me. I know you do. Jiang Cheng doesn't ever deny it, but he never agrees either. He doesn't need to. Wei Ying has proof. The scars on the back of his hands, curling around his wrists and up his arms—burn scars, chemical burns—are proof. Jiang Cheng doesn't like to look at his hands. That's proof too. 

 When he comes back out, Jiang Cheng isn’t alone. The general noise of the bar has fallen to a murmur, and the rowdy game of dominoes is paused in the corner.

 Xue Yang is sprawled over two stools, dressed in shiny black leather and grinning a few inches away from Jiang Cheng’s face.

“How’s it going, Captain Jiang?”

Jiang Cheng leans away. “I don’t see you. You are not here.”

“Course not. Good boy.”

Jiang Cheng’s hand tightens around his glass, and Wei Ying picks up the pace slightly. 

“Leave him alone, Xue Yang,” he says, carefully mild.

The grin turns on him, and Xue Yang waves, his weird little black prosthesis sticking out like a lighting-struck tree. “You telling me what to do, Wei Ying?” 

“I would never. Here, have a drink. If you want.” He pours him a double from his own secret bottle, the one Granny gave him on a good night in the summer. It’s painfully ironic—Xue Yang would be the only person in Yiling who could afford it if he ever actually paid for it.

Wei Ying nods to him and slides the glass across the bar, along with the usual brown envelope. Jiang Cheng sighs and spins around on his stool, looking away.

“Feels light,” Xue Yang says, like always.

“It’s not,” Wei Ying says, also like always. 

Xue Yang grins around the little white stick hanging out of his mouth, and Wei Ying grins back. “Eight percent extra on anything you’re short next time.”

“It’s not short. And it’s five percent, don’t try to fuck with me.” Wei Ying smiles wider and does not blink.

“Maybe it’s changed.”

“Granny would tell me, and she wouldn’t hear it from you.”

“Maybe it’s changing today.” Xue Yang leans across the bar, not quite getting in his face, but close enough. Wei Ying meets Wen Ning’s eye over his shoulder. Wen Ning takes a few steps away from the door, but Wei Ying shakes his head just a fraction and he goes still.

“You don’t have the authority.” Wei Ying lets his grin go a little unnatural at the corners, a little bit of a snarl. “And it’s not short, so it doesn’t matter.”

Xue Yang laughs and tucks the envelope into his jacket, then takes a long swig. Wei Ying breathes, finally, quiet and careful.

“Xue Yang,” he says as he starts to wipe down the bar again. “You know you wound me.”

Xue Yang wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “Oh do I?”

“You know it hurts me, deep down in the soul parts of my body, to see you drink top shelf scotch with a fucking sucker in your mouth.” 

Xue Yang sticks out his tongue so Wei Ying can see the little yellow nub of it. “It’s pineapple.” 

“Great. Thank you. I’m going to go drink bleach now.”

Jiang Cheng half turns to glare at him. “That’s not fucking funny.”

Xue Yang chugs the rest of the scotch and tosses the empty glass at Wei Ying. He hates that it makes him flinch before he catches it. “Tell Granny I say hi.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hey, where’s the little one? Haven’t seen her in a minute.”

Wei Ying stiffens. “You’ll stay away from her if you cherish the rest of those fingers.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Xue Yang gives him a mocking salute and saunters back out towards the door. He’s nearly out when he knocks into an empty chair, sending it to the floor with a crack like a gunshot. No one hits the deck completely, but the held-breath silence turns into a gasp as all eyes snap to the sound, shoulders up and hands braced on tabletops, thighs tensed and ready to run. 

Even Xue Yang is frozen at the door for a second. He laughs, though his jaw is tight. “Just a chair, ladies and gentlemen. Clean this shit up, Wen Ning.” And he’s gone.

Wei Ying deflates, adding some of the good scotch to his own cup. Jiang Cheng makes a face.

“How’s that coffee?”

“Shut up.”

“You should let me talk to Zixuan.”

“You talk to him every day.”

“You know what I mean. How long have you been paying—”

Wei Ying sighs and flicks his rag at his brother. “Thing one: I don’t pay, Granny pays. Thing two: Xue Yang is just a low level street thug with connections, he’s as in charge of the operation as I am in charge of Yiling. Thing three: it all kicks up to the Jins at the end of the day, so what are they gonna do about it?”

“Zixuan isn’t—”

“Yeah, I know your best pal is the paragon of morality.”

(Scotch and soda, root beer, gin and tonic, and three pints.)

“He’s our brother-in-law.”

“And your brother-in-arms, I know, I’d never dare disparage the mighty—”

“He’s a nicer brother than you are.”

Wei Ying mimes a faint. “I’m going to call Shijie, tell her you’re being mean to me.”

Jiang Cheng goes quiet, looks down at his beer. Wei Ying reaches out for it, an offering.

“Another?”

Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “I shouldn’t.” A chunk of his hair comes loose from its tie, feathers across his forehead.

“When are you gonna cut that hair, huh?” Wei Ying flicks it back over his ear. Jiang Cheng swipes at his hand lazily.

“I like it like this.”

“You and Zixuan are twins now, huh? You cultivators. Does Lan Zhan still keep his long, do you think?”

“Dunno. Haven’t seen him in a long time. Stop it, leave it, I have it how I want it.”

Wei Ying laughs at him. “Looks good. Dignified. Hey, did you ever ask for Zidian back?”

Jiang Cheng’s face does something complicated, a little bitter. “Not gonna happen. No spiritual weapons are gonna be authorized any time soon.”

“Yeah, but it’s yours.”

“It’s not mine. It’s the government’s.”

“But it responds to you. What good does it do locked away in—”

“Leave it, Wei Ying. I know you’ve got opinions about cultivation, but I’m fucking tired and it’s not going to change anything.”

“Well, when you’re in charge. Then you’ll show ‘em.”

That does make Jiang Cheng laugh, which is satisfying.

(Two gin and tonics.)

“Hey, you’re not allowed—” Wen Ning calls from the door, followed by the tap-tap of a metal cane. Wei Ying sighs and reaches for the grenadine.

“Wei Ying, you son of a bitch.” The voice is high, reedy, and cackling. “How the hell are ya?”

“A-Qing,” Wei Ying calls mildly. “You can’t be here.”

“Where is here?” she yells, as always. “How am I supposed to know that? Can’t you tell I’m blind?”

“Get out of my bar.”

“Discrimination!” She makes her way across the room, purposely bumping into every occupied table on her way over, just to slosh beer onto the floor.

“You’re fourteen.” He has her cherry soda on the bar by the time she hops up on the stool next to Jiang Cheng, ignoring him entirely.

“And how do you know that, creepy old man?”

“You made me get you a cake for your birthday, you goblin.”

“Who’s this guy?” She takes a long slurping suck from her straw.

“My didi.”

“You—!” Jiang Cheng hates it, which is the only reason Wei Ying says it.

“Ooh, the famous Jiang Cheng. I bet he looks real grumpy.”

“Yep.”

Jiang Cheng flips him off. He grins and goes back to wiping down the drain.

“He just flipped you off, didn’t he?”

“Yep.”

“Nice.” She finishes her drink and slams the glass down. “Double vodka please.”

“Nope.”

“I drink vodka all the time.”

“Don’t care. I’m not getting fired over your sorry ass. Go drink at home.”

“I’m not allowed vodka at the home.”

“And you’re not allowed here either.” He drops the rag back into the sanitizer and leans his elbows on the bar. “Now, are you here with something interesting or just to pester me?”

Jiang Cheng looks like he’s about to interject, but Wei Ying waves him off.

“I can multitask,” A-Qing says before pushing her glass back across the bar. “More sugar first.”

“Diabetes on the rocks, yes madam.”

She takes a long slurping pull, and he folds his arms, waiting. 

“Got a new TV at the home. Real big one.”

“A-Qing, I’m waiting.”

Jiang Cheng squints at her. “How do you know how big the TV is?”

“I just know, okay. Anyway. One of the older kids got it. Bought it himself.”

“Yeah, right,” Wei Ying says. He needs to challenge her if she’s going to give him the whole story. If he seems too interested she’ll draw it out just to fuck with him.

“He did. Wen Changming.”

“A Wen?” Jiang Cheng asks.

Wei Ying rolls his eyes. “Lots of Wens in the children’s home. I wonder why.”

Jiang Cheng makes a sour face at him.

“He’s got cash to burn, suddenly. Pockets full.”

“Gee, I wonder how you found that out.”

A-Qing grins at him. “He’s not gonna miss it. He’s in the club now.”

“The club?”

“You know, the club. What do you call it? Do crimes, get money.”

“Mob? Syndicate? Criminal organization?” Jiang Cheng offers.

“So they’re recruiting at the home, that’s what you’re telling me? Is it Xue Yang?”

A-Qing blows bubbles in her soda. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“Must be desperate.”

“You do the same thing.”

“I do not.”

She holds out a hand. He sighs and passes over a couple of bills. 

“You staying there tonight?” he asks, all casual.

“Maybe. The girls are annoying. Should be nice outside.”

“Starting to get cold.”

“Not really. Only if you’re a pussy.”

“You call me if you need to crash. Here.” He drops a couple of coins in front of her. “I’ll be home after midnight.”

“Sure thing, boss,” she says, pocketing the change. She gives a little salute and hops off her stool. “So long, Wen Ning!” she shouts, walking right at him and making him hop out of the way.

She’s not really blind, of course. Wei Ying’s never brought it up—he knows, but he’s not sure she knows that he knows. One of the nights she crashed at his apartment, months ago, he caught her reading through one of his binders of old clippings—‘91, back before the start of the war, when he was still in Gusu. It kind of kills him, because he wants to ask her what she thought of them. What she remembers from back then, if there’s anything. But they don’t talk about anything serious, not if they can help it.

“Please tell me you don’t have a teenage girl staying at your place,” Jiang Cheng says. Wei Ying gives him a great sigh and grabs his rag again.

“Only when she's got no other place to go. Oh, I have a futon now! You’d see it if you ever came over.”

“Wow, great, you're thirty years old and you have a secondhand futon. Mother would be so proud.”

“I didn't say it was secondhand.”

“Wei Ying, trust me, you do not need to.”

 (Four pints.)

Wei Ying makes a face at him. “So mean.”

“It’s weird that she stays with you.”

Wei Wuxian sighs again. “Jiang Cheng.”

“It is. It’s weird.”

“If it��s a bad night at the home then she sleeps outside. I don’t like her sleeping outside, so she stays with me. When she’s not being ornery.”

“She’s a teenage girl.”

“She’s a baby.”

“Not your baby. Why would she sleep outside anyway? Yiling sucks.”

“The home sucks. Look, it’s an orphan thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

Jiang Cheng pouts. “Hey, I’m an orphan.”

“No you’re not, you’re a grown up.”

(Whiskey, neat.)

“You’re a grownup. My parents are dead; I’m an orphan.”

“Then everyone’s a fucking orphan in this country. The word’s lost all meaning. From now on, if your parents were alive when you were ten, you’re not an orphan. Find a new word, leave ours alone.”

“You’re such a jackass.”

“Jackass! Yes, that’s a good word.”

Jiang Cheng sighs and gets off his stool. He tosses cash down on the bar, though Wei Ying tries to wave him off.

“Oh, you’re going to want to get a flag up in here,” he says, off-hand as he turns to go. 

Wei Ying freezes. “Excuse me?”

“Coming down from on high, it’s going to be a new ordinance. To keep the liquor license.”

“The fuck does a flag have to do with our liquor license?”

Jiang Cheng holds up his hands. “I’m just the messenger.”

“I’m not letting the Sunshot flag through these doors.”

Jiang Cheng turns back to him, serious. “Look, I know you have your own . . . feelings—”

“Feelings?” he almost spits, spreading his hands out on the bar.

Jiang Cheng winces and does not look at them. “You have your reasons, I’m not arguing that. But Yiling’s a part of the Republic and people need to get used to it. You don’t have to like it, but your district rep is going to announce the policy in the next week, and I don’t want to see you— Don’t go out of your way to make life difficult, all right? It’s hard enough already.”

Wei Ying says nothing, just leans back and watches the rag twist and untwist between his hands.

“See you Saturday,” Jiang Cheng offers, hesitates, then leaves.

Wei Ying will close up. They close early, still, kick everyone out before midnight. Old habits. He’ll go home and work on his column, the one corner of the paper Wen Qing leaves for whatever he wants. (Literally, the column is called “Whatever.”) Maybe A-Qing will find a pay phone and call him, if she hasn’t spent or hidden the change, or maybe she’ll just show up and lean on the buzzer until he lets her in. He’ll sleep better, if she’s there. He was never meant to live alone.

And he’ll wake up tomorrow, and try to do it all again.

Part Two

[rosemarydisaster]

To everyone wondering how some of us stay sane in this shitshow of a fandom: I don’t watch the show for the ships. I watch it for the characters, the jokes and the plot. I ship things, because I’m invested in the characters and their chemistry. But I also accept it’s a game and I’m not the one playing it. I might prefer Widowjest over Fjorester, but at the end of the day I’m not raging over ships. I did not see the chemistry of Vaxleth at first (took me a while), but I didn’t stop enjoying the entire show just for it (nor did I called Vaxmore queerbait, because I have critical thinking skills).

Sometimes their decisions seem odd to me, but considering the weird shit I’ve done as a player I ain’t judging. Seriously, our DM stopped mid game to ask us why the actual fuck did we just jumped out of the window of our ally’s castle to disappear into the night like some 15 year old emos. So I watch the show, enjoy the parts that I like, and read twitter during the parts I don’t care that much for. I don’t send hate to the cast because I understand that they are improvising and this is not a scripted TVshow. They don’t think about “overarching themes” or “character development” in a linear way. It comes up naturally to them, which means that sometimes they progress in very chaotic ways that seem confusing to spectators.

For example: Everyone talks about how far Caleb has come, but Liam has said in talks how that was not at all what he had planned for the sad wizard boy. This proves that the things players envision for their characters can be thrown out of the window at any given moment. The only one that can kinda plan ahead is Matt. And look at what happened with Essek, he did not see that coming at all. 

So, in conclusion: it’s not that deep. Chill. If you’re getting mad each time they do something that’s not perfect storytelling wise, maybe you should watch a scripted show. You’ll have more fun, or at least you would be right when you criticize showrunners about ships and character development. I know they are really fucking talented so most times things turn out pretty smooth and rounded up, but that doesn’t mean they won’t keep screwing up. It’s a game. In fact, It’s THEIR game, we are just guests here.

[aswellingstorm]

taylor swift x catradora playlist

in honor of evermore dropping tonight (midnight, EST) i humbly present the following by album break down of songs that miss swift wrote solely for catradora

taylor swift (2006)

tied together with a smile--the struggle adora faces being the hero/put on a pedestal from her horde days to becoming she ra

invisible--catra facing jealousy over adora’s new friendships

i’m only me when i’m with you--young catradora/growing up in the horde

fearless (2008)

forever & always-- broken promise. need i say more

white horse-- catra’s resentment for adora’s hero complex

breathe-- mutual catra & adora--struggling to cope with the other choosing the opposing side

you’re not sorry--adora coming to terms w post s3 catra & having to accept her former best friend has gone too far this time

change-- post s1 victory for adora

speak now (2010)

the story of us--princess prom catradora vibes

mean--unfortunately.........could see the best friend squad singing this therapeutically & adora thinking of catra

better than revenge-- ‘stealing other peoples toys on the playground won’t make you many friends//i’m just another thing for you to roll your eyes at honey’....jealous catra really comes thru here

innocent-- feel like this could be applied to adora but more specifically catra losing herself and her innocence in this war/getting caught in the cycle of abuse shadow weaver set her in at a young age

if this were a movie-- adora’s naïve hope that catra might make the right choice one day

haunted-- ‘all this time you and i have walked a fragile line, never thought i’d live to see it break’, easily fits into adora leaving the horde, but def has the angsty vibes for ‘save the cat’

back to december--regret. longing. wishing u could take something back but knowing you really cant

enchanted--ok hear me out. not necessarily a ‘meet cute’ for them, but could def see this song playing at a princess prom post s5 and being a cute look for them over all.

red (2012)

treacherous--post ‘save the cat’, catra learning redemption is....something she Wants

the last time--post-portal. def reminds me of the scene where catra saves glimmer and apologizes to adora

sad beautiful tragic-- break up sadness

the lucky one--more adora becoming she ra/learning the truth of mara

i almost do--catra & adora missing each other on opposite sides of the war

come back...be here--^^

state of grace--end of/post s5

1989 (2014)

out of the woods--i mean..........those ladies entered the whispering woods in s1 on a stolen skiff and did not leave until the end of the series

all you had to do was stay-- aside from the title... “let me remind you this was what you wanted // you ended it// you were all I wanted //but not like this”. def catra yearning

i wish you would--all of the lyrics. all of them

bad blood--warrants no explanation

this love-- “when you’re young, you just run// but you always come back to what you need”......................the defense rests

clean--s4 adora accepting and coming to terms w catra’s decision

wonderland-- really captures the betrayal/hurt of s1 catradora

you are in love-- adora POV// subtle moments leading up to realizing she loves catra

new romantics--”we need love, but all we want is danger//we team up then switch sides like a record changer”

catra’s personal memoir reputation (2017)

i did something bad--a title that could (unfortunately for everyone else) summarize a large majority of catra’s decisions. the song is very justified/righteous anger/revenge. basically a ‘fuck you, i know i’m bad’ & embracing that. reminds me of her kicking sw & hordaks ass (the rebellion could never) and her just...war criming it up in the crimson waste

Look What You Made Me Do-- void!catra void!catra void!catra void!catra void!catra void!catra--

getaway car--could see this from adora’s perspective to catra solely for the whole leaving/betrayal bit. but might be more fighting for double trouble & catra’s relationship

dancing with our hands tied-- i mean...lyrically. everything. but esp ‘I'd kiss you as the lights went out//swaying as the room burned down//I'd hold you as the water rushes in//If I could dance with you again”

dress-- “i dont want you like a best friend”. period. end of sentence. 

this is why we can’t have nice things--s1 promise feels. the lack of forgiveness, the shade. u know.

lover (2019)

cruel summer-- “i scream for whatever it’s worth, i love you--ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” the heart. the longing. the ‘i dont want to keep secrets just to keep you’

the archer-- ‘who could ever leave me, but who could stay?’ + the rest of the song is v fitting for both catra/adora

afterglow--making up, admitting wrongs--catra perspective

miss americana & the heartbreak prince--idk just the narrative of the song reminds me of them

it’s nice to have a friend--whooooh boy this post is not about glimbow but this song works equally as well for them

daylight--enjoy the healing

lover--enjoy the healing pt 2

death by a thousand cuts-- warrants 0 explanation

folklore (2020)

finally

the 1-- definitley adora POV, reminiscing on maybe what they could have been. maybe in a world where catra never redeemed herself or they never reunited and adora watched her friends pair up/get married/build lives w each other, she might realize there is a whole in her heart. a part that’s missing and cant be explained, but she feels it every time she looks at glimmer&bow. 

cardigan-- feels like catra writing a letter to adora. reflecting on the feelings of hurt and betrayal after time has passed and the anger fades

exile -- lowkey the premise of my fic but. ‘i’m not your problem anymore/ you were my crown/ now i’m in exile seeing you out’ catra was raised to feel like she was adora’s problem to fix. she feels cast aside by her for a majority of the series etc

my tears ricochet-- “i didn't have it in myself to go with grace//and you're the hero flying around saving face//and if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake?//cursing my name, wishing I stayed//look at how my tears ricochet” tswift explained this in the doc about how no one can hurt you like your best friend turned enemy. so i think in that sense this song works from adora’s perspective--but there’s so much bitterness and anger that i feel like it fits more from catra’s POV

seven-- “love you to the moon and to saturn//passed down like folksongs//the love lasts so long” i feel like this is so young/child adora and her feelings of protectiveness over catra. their bond through trauma and abuse

august--lmaoooooo i know. ok i KNOW what the deal is. i KNOW that cardigan, august and betty are a narrative story and really there are 3 POVs--james, betty & august. but i will do with that what i please. i just see catra’s pov from this song just as much as i see it for cardigan. her losing adora/feeling like adora doesn’t want her back or will choose other ppl over her. 

this is me trying--can fit adora’s need to be everything for everyone/fear of failure--leading to burn out. also works for what i assume how catra’s redemption arc continued post s5. progress isn’t linear and this can show both of them struggling to recover from abuse

invisible string--if u strip out the imagery of taylor and her mans then sure

mad woman--i MEAN...is this not catra’s villain origin story? so often she was just poked/kicked/provoked into continuing down the dark path. not always by adora but regardless.

epiphany-- ‘with you i serve, with you i fall down’ reminding me of them both fighting/practicing/training together pre-s1 as well as them finally teaming up

betty--betty betty betty. the worst thing these two have ever done is what they did to each other. i see it more catra to adora, but it can go either way. gotta admire catra’s range for fitting into the role of betty, august + james... who else is doing it quite like her?

peace-- adora to catra. she can never not be she ra. is that enough for catra?

hoax--def more of a catra POV

evermore (2020?)

tbd......

[bigoltrashpile]

Hey, having bad mental health day :( relapsed after months of being clean off self harm, I thought I was finally getting better but now the state of the world is worse than ever... can I get some angst/fluff with sib reader? I need somebody to tell me I'm not fucked for relapsing and that it's ok to mess up.. No pressure.. I know it can be triggering so dont write it if it's too much

Oh no anon, I’m so sorry! :( If it helps, you can always dm me, I’m here for you.  Just because you relapsed doesn’t make you weak or any less worthy of love, it isn’t your fault.  You’re so strong for still being around, and so many people care about you

Also, since I’m not sure which skeletons you wanted, I’m just gonna do the classic boys because I love them and I feel like they would give good hugs.   Anyway, it’s going under a cut just in case

Papyrus is the one who notices first.

He caught you when you were trying to find the first aid kit, blood dripping from your fresh cuts.  For a long moment, you locked eyes, Papyrus looking almost heartbroken at the sight of you with tears in your eyes, holding a scrap of cloth to your wounds.

“Oh Y/N...” he whispered.  Carefully, he came up to you, being sure not to startle you, and gave you a gentle hug.  “I’m So Sorry.”

“W-what for?” you stammered, fresh tears springing to your eyes.

“I’m Sorry I Wasn’t There.”  His voice was shaking a bit.  “I Should Have Been Able To Help You.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said quickly.  “It’s nobody’s fault but mine.  If I wasn’t so weak-”

“Hush!” Papyrus said quickly, putting a finger over your lips.  “None Of That Now.  We Need To Get You Healed, Come Here.”  He grabbed the first aid kit in one hand and easily picked you up in the other, like you weighed nothing.  You clung to him like a little kid as he carried you to the living room and set you gently on the couch.

He pulled out some alcohol swabs and started to clean your cuts.  You winced in pain, but let him.  When they were clean, his hands glowed a light green, and he set them on your skin.  Immediately, the pain from the alcohol disappeared, replaced by a warmth.  It felt like whenever Papyrus hugged you.

When he was done, Papyrus reached up and brushed something off your cheek.  You realized dimly that it was a tear.  You had been crying.  “This Does Not Define You,” he whispered.  “I Know What You’re Thinking, And You Are Strong.  A Relapse Is Normal, Even If It Breaks My Heart.”

“B-but you don’t have a heart,” you joked weakly.

Papyrus squinted jokingly at you.  “Don’t Deflect My Love And Support With Stupid Jokes!” he scolded.

Suddenly, Sans appeared in the room.  “hey bro, i got the-oh shit.”  He noticed the first aid kit and the little bit of dried blood still on your skin.  His face fell.  “oh y/n, did it happen again?”

You looked away, ashamed.  “.....Yeah.”

Sans dropped the bags he was holding on the floor and sat next to you on the couch.  “hey, there ain’t nothin’ to worry about.  i know shit’s stressful right now, i can totally understand where you’re comin’ from.  it’s okay, these things happen.”

You wiped a fresh wave of tears away.  “B-but I was d-doing so well,” you sobbed.  “A-and I messed up!”

“Everyone Makes Mistakes,” Papyrus said.  He was holding your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.  “You Are Not A Bad Person For Messing Up.  Even One As Great As I Can Make Mistakes!”

“yeah, and even though ya hurt yourself again, it ain’t like ya can never heal again,” he said.  “progress ain’t linear, we’ve talked about this before.”

“Yes, There Will Always Be Ups And Downs!” Papyrus smiled.  “And We’ll Be Right By Your Side Through All Of Them!”

“ya can always talk to us.”

You sniffled and smiled at them both.  “Thanks guys, I really needed that.”

“of course, what’s family for?”