#shaicarus

[fireinmywoods]

having binged all of the Palimpsest series and scrolled through your blog for a while, I have happily adopted the worldview that Jim and Bones clocked each other as 'the one person balls to the walls nuts enough to keep up with me' and mutually decided 'This Is My Project,' so thank you for that

Congratulations on your new and exceptionally valid worldview! It's a perennially entertaining paradigm to operate in, if you ask me.

You know, at least in pverse, I feel like it took them both a minute to get to the This Is My Project stage, mostly because they were each too fucked up upon meeting to consider themselves capable of making a positive impact on anyone else. Arguably their starting point is something more along the lines of Wow, What A Mess. ...Well, I Guess I Probably Can't Fuck Him Up Any Worse. You know? Like, if someone hands me their pristine brand-new top-of-the-line phone without a case, I’m going to be on edge the entire time I’m holding it. But if it’s already got a cracked screen, a scratched-up case, maybe a mysterious bite mark or two - I mean, I’ve got questions, first of all, but that’s none of my business and the important thing is that short of throwing that bad boy into the sun my own careless handling ain’t gonna make a dent, so I can relax a little.

Jim is that phone when he walks onto that shuttle - just an Absolute Wreck of a human being. It is pure glorious serendipity that he ends up sitting next to a guy who is a completely different but equally intense flavor of Absolute Wreck, and even more incredible that those flavors happen to pair so naturally together. (Hey, you got your chocolate in my peanut butter abandonment issues in my caretaking fixation! Yeah, well, you got your anxiety and depression in my performative overconfidence and obsessive drive!)

They don’t know that last part right away, of course. But game recognizes game, and so each of them in their own way kind of shrugs into that initial stage of their relationship - like, yeah, what the hell, I guess there’s room for one more vagrant around the roaring trash barrel fire that is my existence. Set down your bindle of barely repressed trauma and make yourself comfortable.

Both Leonard and Jim are too blindered by self-hatred, at first, to have any aspirations of helping each other, let alone consider that they themselves might be helpable. It's only once they’ve started settling into their fixer-upper of a friendship - the cartoonishly ramshackle haunted house that is their combined dysfunction - that they start looking around and going, hmm...I mean, since I'm already here...

[indecentpause]

Heads Up, 7-Up

tagged by @catchingbigfish to share seven lines!

from The Black & Blues

cw: implied past violence/bullying, aftermath of a mosh pit injury

“I’m such a wimp, now,” you laugh. “When I was in high school this would have been nothing. I’d be right back up like nothing happened.”

When you meet Josselin’s eyes, his face looks sad.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him.

He gently pushes your hair out of your face. It’s sweaty and fluffed up with humidity, but he still touches you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

It reminds you of Danny patching you up after incidents with your parents, and suddenly, in the middle of the show, while the band onstage is playing the rawest ska punk you’ve heard since Choking Victim and Leftover Crack, your throat tightens and you have to press your mouth into a thin line to keep from emoting the sadness your face wants to put out to the world.

You don’t miss those days and you never will. You’re totally fine with Danny not being your boyfriend. But even though Josselin’s never been anything but the sweetest man you’ve ever met, it still breaks something inside of you. Someone treating you so gently after you’ve been hurt.

You wipe at your uninjured eye with the back of your hand and gently wrap your arm around Josselin’s hip, hooking your thumb in his belt loop. You look down, afraid of the rejection you’re always expecting even this far into your relationship. He’s never once given you reason to doubt him, but sometimes your family’s voices are still a little too loud.

He steps closer and gently rests his palms high on your shoulders, and he pulls you into an awkward hug, which is mostly your face in his stomach. Your hand tightens.

He loves you.

You know that. You’ve both said it multiple times.

He loves you.

tagging @garthcelyn @magic-is-something-we-create @drippingmoon @winterandwords and @shaicarus  and anyone else who wants to! tag me so I can see!

[emelkae]

Last Line Tag

Thanks for the tag, @talesofsorrowandofruin @zmwrites

From WARRIOR:

“You’re used to just doing whatever you want, aren't you?” said Aesa, glancing up from her wristtab. She frowned, analyzed the landmarks for a few seconds, and kept walking straight ahead. “You’re staring at me. You don’t get an excuse to be creepy just because you’re a Pather.”

Eleni’s brows danced subtly downward. “I'm sorry for making my daring liberator uncomfortable.”

“Heh,” she snorted. Her head twitched at a flicker of movement. “Hey, keep that hand away from mine! Bound wrists may draw attention, but I’ll take the risk if I have to.”

Eleni put her free hand on the Lairhelm under her cloak, her tone sugary as she said, “Oh, there’s no need. I have absolutely no interest in touching you.”

New enemies to lovers just dropped, lads

Leaving an Open Tag, but also tagging @shaicarus @helvelloides @rowanwriting @andromedatalksaboutstuff @akiwitch @oblolongue @kahvilahuhut @authorlaurawinter @pepsiwriteswords @ashen-crest

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Three Facts Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @eccaiia and @shaicarus! :D

Rules: post three facts about yourself or your OCs/characters.

I’ll do this for the two WIPs I’m planning, The Unfortunate Moth and Death Waits for Some Men. (They’re both about murder, but one’s an Agatha Christie-inspired whodunnit while the other’s a Kind Heart and Coronets-inspired black comedy.)

Moth:

It’s set on an ocean liner because I wanted a setting where it’s absolutely impossible for anyone to leave.

The time period is pseudo-historical, possibly inspired by the early 1900s. However it’ll probably be a steampunk version of history. Not because I don’t like real history, but because I like it too much and if I tried to write a real historical novel I’d get distracted by research. And if I couldn’t track down exactly what I was looking for, I’d give up in despair. So deliberate inaccuracy it is then ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The main clue to the murder is a letter from D. Heather Glen. (Spoiler) It’s a red herring. Heather Glen is a house, not a person, and the D is the writer’s actual initial. And none of it has anything to do with the murder anyway; the killer stole a random letter and put it beside the corpse to confuse the detective.

Death ( in spite of the title, this has nothing to do with the Death series):

The murder weapon will be poison. Specifically pennyroyal oil, which is nasty enough, unusual enough, and incurable enough to fit the murder. (Google probably thinks I’m a serial killer by now.)

Again the setting is probably pseudo-historical, though maybe based on the 1930s/1940s.

I plan to end it with the “protagonists” murdering their father and stepmother, then being stopped by the police when they go to their getaway vehicle... because they’re parked on a double yellow line and they have to pay a fine. Then the police let them go and they get away with murder.

Tagging @akindofmagictoo, @euphoniouspandemonium, @dragon-swords-prophecies, @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

[chrismerle]

Find the Word

tagged by @indecentpause who it turns out has actually tagged me a few times lately and I didn't know because I changed my URL! uh ... whoops? ('shaicarus' is one of my unused side blogs now, 'cause I changed my URL but also didn't want anyone else using my old one.)

anyway, I found all of these in Brothers.

party

Ash was thirteen when a raiding party tried to get into the Melting Pot. He climbed into the branches of the trees and watched, following from above as North picked up his sword and shield, stalked each trespasser like the prey they didn’t know they were, and dealt with them.

eat

North had sworn a lot and given Ash something that he was pretty sure had actually been a chunk of a woodland feed block, but really it had tasted alright and it made sense; North didn’t eat, so why would he have his own food?

hands

Hands shaking, Ash takes hold of his knife as the largest rock is dragged away. The beast looms over him, drooling onto his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds the knife out.

circle(s)

For as much as he had assumed he would be dead a few moments ago, it all seems kind of anticlimactic now. North takes two more swings, ducks under another swipe, and then catches a fistful of the beast’s fur and drags himself up onto its back like he’s climbing a jungle gym. He holds tight as it tries furiously to buck him off, rushing in circles and flailing about. And when it slows to take a breath, North raises his sword in both hands and plunges it down between the beast’s shoulders.

blade

Archer shakes his head and begins working the blade of his knife through one end of the branch, carving a notch.

I was gonna jokingly say 'I promise it has characters other than Ash and North,' but then Archer squeezed in right at the end there.

taggiiiiiing, uh ... @emelkae @talesofsorrowandofruin and, uh ... whoever else wants to play. gonna leave it there 'cause I haven't engaged in writeblr in a while and don't remember who's open to tag games.

your words: silver, stunt, hoop(s), hurry, blast

[amapofyourstars]

Find the Word Tag (4)

Thank you to @oh-no-another-idea for tagging me! These were all found in my WIP Midsummer Records except for the second one which I found in Call It What You Want. 

Hands

“I’m still your father’s wife first. I’m still your grandfather’s daughter. I inherited all of this,” she sweeps her hands around the room, and then pauses. “No, that’s not entirely true. A lot of this I earned myself. But I wish I had earned it all. I wish I had gotten myself to where I am just with my own ambition, not my family name. Not my marriage. It’s been eating me up inside.”

Murmur

“I want to break up.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but I don’t understand.”

Joanna fiddles with her straw wrapper.  

“We haven’t been… working for a while now.”

“You stopped texting me,” I say. 

Joanna winces. “I’m sorry about that.”

“And you broke off our dates.”

“I know. I’m not blaming you. I just… I need a change.”

“You need a change,” I repeat, “Why?” 

“This went so much better in the mirror,” she murmurs. 

Hair

Aaron’s taken out his contacts and put on his glasses. I rarely ever see Aaron in his glasses but he looks downright adorable in them. He laughs at one of the lines in the movie, toppling backwards onto the couch. His eyes are closed and his hair is falling into his eyes. His smile is an entire galaxy.

Mess

“What are you guys doing in math?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t really pay attention,” she mutters. 

I sigh. “Well, that’s probably your first step, Ivy.”

She uncaps a pen with her mouth and scrawls on her hand. She holds it up for me to read. I squint at her messy penmanship. She’s written ‘pay attention in class!!’ 

I Tag: @theguildedtypewriter, @shaicarus, @zmwrites & anyone else who wants to join in! Your words are: sometimes, sky, always, & night. As always, you do not have have to participate 💛

[grimmreads]

3 photos tag game

thanks for the tag @motelbf :))

Rules: Find 3 photos/images (they can be anything at all, memes, vintage photographs, quotes, anything) that you feel describe your wip. If you want, you can tell a little bit your story, too. You can do it with or without the context. 

Thieves WIP

tagging :) (no pressure)

@houndmouthed @autumnsletters @shaicarus @moonlit-sunflower-books @mj-collins @loveimogen

[oh-no-another-idea]

Words to find

Tagged by the amazing @fiercely-raging-writer and also @sleepyowlwrites forever ago--thanks, friends! 

Choice:

The mechanic plopped down at his feet, mumbling to himself and pursing his lips as he sorted out Quin’s problem. Quin tried to calm down and relax, but the alarm still pulsed steadily outside the mechanic’s door, and visions of Jax and Aaliyah having to wait for him while guards shot wildly around them rained through his head.

“Stop jiggling,” the mechanic ordered, smacking Quin’s good leg. “It’s distracting me.”

Quin bit back a few choice words and forced himself to be still. “Why are you in prison anyways?”

Interest:

A stooped vendor yelled something at them, holding out her gloved hand full of what looked like multicolored, edible marbles. Sepia looked a little too interested, and the vendor started following them, now clearly trying to bargain.

“Sepia, shut up, look down, and move quickly,” Jax barked, increasing speed.

Collar: (aww a moment between the brothers)

Jax slid into the copilot seat. “Hey. You alright?”

Quin brushed the collar of his jacket. “Now I am.”

Jax smiled, a private and proud smile that Quin would think about later when he was trying to sleep while his leg ached. Holding his breath, Quin pushed the ignition. The ship roared to life.

Corner: (from a fic)

At one point they pass a place with music so loud Steve can basically see the noise; white infrared light on the edge of his vision, like a glare just in the corner of your eye—turn to catch it and it’s gone.

No pressure tags for @dontcrywrite @diphthongsfordays @did-i-do-this-write @andromeda-rising-897 @ellaofoakhill @shaicarus @writing-time-blues @asher-orion-writes @indecentpause and anyone else who’d like to join! New words: knife, want, hurdle, and particular <3

[ironqueen99]

I posted 3,703 times in 2022

1 post created (0%)

3,702 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@time-travel-toke-up

@maid-of-timey-wimey

@sokkastyles

@shaicarus

@starstruck-bard

I tagged 816 of my posts in 2022

#danny phantom - 118 posts

#zuko - 108 posts

#zutara - 108 posts

#cute - 101 posts

#dp x dc - 100 posts

#funny - 96 posts

#katara - 88 posts

#danny fenton - 83 posts

#atla meta - 67 posts

#atla - 57 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#like imagine if you were a random member of m16 and got the opportunity to fight fucking 007???? like dude you’d be singing up for that shit

My Top Posts in 2022:

See the full post

0 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ask-a-vetblr]

hey doc! can cats fall into the same 'my stomach hurts, so I won't eat, so I'm hungry, so my stomach hurts even more, so I won't eat' trap that people can fall into? I had to bring a cat to the vet on wednesday night for just ... so much barf, and the vet found nothing wrong, gave him fluids and an antiemetic, and sent us on our way. it's SATURDAY and I had to take him to the vet again because he just refuses to eat??? and they found literally nothing wrong??? it's like he's on a hunger strike.

vet-and-wild here.

That’s a really hard question to answer because animals can’t exactly tell us why they don’t want to eat. Physiologically, it’s reasonable to think that this could happen, but we’ll never be able to know for sure. Stress, pain, illness, and nausea can all cause an animal to go off feed.

Ferox here.

Sometimes cats do seem to ‘blame’ food for making them sick. It’s not uncommon for them to completely go off a food that was force fed to them while ill, or what they were fed in hospital, plausibly from the negative association with hiw they felt at the time. Sometimes they want to eat but just wont unless given something completeky different.

[zombified-queer]

"balter" i don't go here, but i support all fic writing

balter - to dance gracelessly, but with enjoyment

When Lulia comes home, she hangs her keys by the door and sets her purse down. And then she listens. 

It sounds like Jerafina made good on her promise of digging out her old record player. It's something very 70s. But Lulia can see the appeal. Nostalgic, in a way.

Lulia makes her way to the living room. She doesn't say a word, just watches. 

Jerafina dances with the grace of a drunken ostrich, even when she's not drinking. But Lulia adores it. Sort of freeform. Sort of awkward. But completely Jerafina.

"Oh, hey," Jerafina says, pausing. "Yeah, I found it. It was in the attic. Exactly where I told you!"

She grins at Lulia. 

"Don't mind me," Lulia grins. "Go on."

"Oh. No, no. If I'm dancing, I'm not doing it alone."

"And the tests you needed to grade?"

"They can wait. C'mere."

Lulia does. How could she ever deny Jerafina something so wholesome? 

Jerafina offers a hand to Lulia. And Lulia takes it. With Jerafina's other hand on her hip, Lulia's led into a sway that's not quite a waltz. It's not the best dance for 70s prog rock, but it's nice.

"You're making fun of me," Jerafina teases. 

"Only a little." Lulia pecks her cheek. "Remind me to get you some new records."

"Oh? Are we building a collection?"

"We've been married for a year," Lulia points out. "If not now, then when?"

"Good point."

Lulia takes the lead, a little more graceful. She spins Jerafina slowly. 

"Y'know? I could take some inspiration from this," Lulia murmurs. "All these mushy lyrics about love."

"Going soft on me Luls?"

"When haven't I been soft for you?" Lulia guides them carefully away from the coffee table. 

"It's the glasses."

"It's not the glasses," Lulia scoffs. "It's you."

"That's sweet. Write it in your next single, okay?"

"I will," Lulia promises. "I will."

And as the last song stops, they're still swaying awkwardly around the room. 

[indecentpause]

Seven Snippets, Seven People

tagged by @kaiusvnoir to share seven snippets! I will do my best!

tagging for the game from my little list: @caspia-writes @inscrutable-shadow @imaginationxlost @nervousgalaxyllama @pinespittinink @shaicarus @whimsyqueen

no pressure! I know this is a big one, and some people might not have or be ready to share that much. you can always skip any game I tag you in! if you don’t want to be tagged anymore just let me know :3

also tagging my taglist under the cut, because there’s so much here you might like to see too!

cw: sex mention, implied bullying/abuse, panic attack

from The Black & Blues, mostly under a cut to save your dashes lol:

One:

For your fourteenth birthday, Danny gives you a denim jacket he found at a thrift store. It’s far too big but Danny just grins and says, “That just means it’s perfect for patches and buttons.”

You don’t know if you’re brave enough for patches and buttons. But when Danny pulls you into a hug and says, “We’re gonna get out of here. We’re gonna be okay.” You cling to him like a life preserver in a wild ocean, one thing steady in the turmoil and confusion of being a gay kid turning into a gay teen.

For a long time, you wear the jacket as is. To school, to the library, to the grocery store, to everywhere.

Your parents hate it when you wear it to church, but honestly, they’re lucky you even go without fighting them about it.

The punk kids at school begin to take notice of you. One of them, a tall, brick wall of a junior, always nods at you, and one day his girlfriend offers you a fist bump and she gives you one every day after that.

Two:

After school, Danielle, Dicky, and Crystal corner you in the back parking lot where the seniors park their cars. Their faces are worried and serious. It’s like an intervention.

“Meara,” Danielle says. “Please. Tell us what’s going on. Did something happen with your parents?”

Your eyes go wide and you push back against the brick wall, but it just gives them space to close in.

“I’ll slash their tires,” Crystal growls.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m staying with Danny, so I’m fine.”

“So something did happen.” Dicky’s voice is low and angry, but he stays calm. You’ve never heard him speak so quietly, and somehow, that’s scarier than yelling.

You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t cry here at school. In front of anyone other than Danny. You’re already a pathetic mess, you can’t let people see you vulnerable.

But even so, your eyes start to water, and you turn your head away and wipe at your eyes with your knuckles, pressing in hard as you try to regulate yourself.

Then, you’re crying, and Crystal has her arms wrapped around you like you’re a fragile treasure, and Dicky and Danielle whisper-yell at each other about what they should or shouldn’t do, but in the end, nothing is solved and nothing is better and everyone is angry.

You can’t wait to get out of this shithole town. Three years. Three years.

Three:

“[Danny]’s my best friend,” you say.

Kris hikes an eyebrow and purses his lips. “Anything else?”

Your smile must turn a little sad when you say, ‘No,” because Kris makes a sympathetic humming sound.

“But you want him to be.”

“You don’t even know if I like guys.”

Kris snorts. “Straight men don’t touch each other the way you two do. You’re too close, too casual.” He pauses. “Straight men also don’t listen to Pansy Division.”

You clear your throat and swallow hard. “Is it that obvious?” you ask meekly.

“I think you have to be looking for it,” Kris says. “But I know what repressed gay crushes look like. I’m aroace but I still have feelings for Austin and Sara in my own ways, and we haven’t always been together.”

“Do you think we need to tone it down?” Your voice is shaky now, and your eyes dart up and down the hall over Kris’s head. Who knows who might be listening?

Kris smiles kindly and shakes his head. “You do you, man. I wouldn’t suggest walking down the street holding hands with another dude or kissing one in public. But you should be fine.” He gently knuckles your elbow and says, “I won’t tell him. That’s your guys’ business. But I think you should shoot your shot.”

Four:

Because you’re so early, you and Danny get there first. Your guitar is already tuned, but you fiddle with it anyway, trying to ignore your nerves. This is gonna be great. This is gonna work. You’re all friends, and you can make something happen.

Danny appropriately plays the bassline from Fugazi’s Waiting Room as you, well, wait. You’re a good fifteen minutes early, so you have plenty of time for a panic attack in the meantime.

From out of nowhere, you start to get a little dizzy, your breathing gets a little uneven. Your heart is pounding. Maybe you really are having a panic attack.

The bassline stops and Danny carefully puts his bass down.

“Meara?” he says gently. You shake your head. “Meara, are you all right?”

“I think I’m having a panic attack,” you gasp.

He doesn’t ask why. He doesn’t point out that you’ve never had a panic attack in your life. He just takes your guitar and places it to the side, then scoots up next to you, so close your hips touch.

“What can I do?” Danny asks. “Would a hug make it better or worse?”

You sniffle and collapse against him, burying your nose in this shoulder. Sandalwood again.

He wraps an arm around you and pulls you into a half hug. “Hey,” he says. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re all friends, we’ve all been playing for years. And everyone who will be here is nice, remember? Even if there is a disagreement, I think it’ll be fine.”

You nod, and you breathe, and it feels like hours, but the clock says five minutes have passed by the time you calm down.

Five:

You let out an exhale, not quite a sigh, and you say, “Well. I think that could have gone better. It was awesome to see people dancing, though.”

“Are you kidding me?” Morgan laughs. “I think we did great for our first show!”

You pull up your shirt to try to wipe at your face with the hem instead. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Meara, seriously,” Josephine says. “Morgan and I have done a lot of performances in our years playing. That was a really good reception for a band nobody’s heard of.”

“Here, you animal,” Danny says, handing you a gray and black checkered handkerchief. “Use this. Uh. Don’t put it in your pocket, though.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you laugh.

“No, I just don’t think you share my kinks,” he grins back, ruffling your hair. It stabs you in the chest, knowing he’s still flagging for other men, but then, they’re not ‘other men.’ They’re potential partners. And you aren’t.

And he’s right. You don’t share his kinks. You’re not into bondage or S&M. It’s possible, even probable, that you wouldn’t be sexually compatible, even if you were romantically. Maybe it’s better for you. It’s what he wants, and he deserves to get what he wants.

You could do without knowing which pocket he puts them in, though.

His right, your brain helpfully fills in for you.

Six:

“Were you and your mom really close, then?”

“Yeah.”[Josselin’s] smile is sad but fond. Sad she’s gone but thinking about happy memories. “What about you?” he says. “What’s your family like?”

“I don’t have one anymore,” you say, and while you don’t mean it to come out harsh, it’s firm enough that he doesn’t pursue the subject.

“And now the million dollar question,” you say. He laughs a little. “Why were you homeschooled?”

“Oh.” His voice gets a little soft. “Regular school and autism don’t mix.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he’s saying. “You’re autistic?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Diagnosed when I was a kid. It took me a lot longer than most people my age to start speaking, and I used to have huge emotional regulation problems. But Mom always helped me. She helped me find ways to deal with a world that’s not made for me.”

A pause when the bus stops, and passengers get off, and passengers get on.

“Well,” you finally say, and you hope you’re saying the right thing, “I’d like to be in the part of the world where you are.”

He looks up at you again with that bright, bright smile and those bright, bright eyes.

“Me too,” he says.

Seven:

[Josselin] grabs a box and plops down beside you, and you go through some of his video games together. He has an N64 and a Super Nintendo. You didn’t really have video games growing up. Your brother had some systems but he never let you into his room to play. Danny’s family had a Super Nintendo, but that was more for his dad. He’d let you and Danny play; you just had other stuff going on. When you say so, Josselin bumps his shoulder against yours and says, “I grew up on the road, remember? I never played until Frankie and I moved in together last year.”

“Oh, so they’re hers?”

“Well, I’ve added to the collection since then. But the systems are hers.”

He finally digs out Pokemon Stadium, and, when you agree that that’s still okay, he grabs the box and leaves the couch and you miss his soft warmth immediately. God, you’re absolutely head over heels infatuated, aren’t you?

He’s just so calm, and gentle, and sure of himself. He doesn’t put on a front. He’s absolutely, unabashedly Josselin.

You don’t know who Meara is, yet. For years you defined yourself by your sexuality because you had no other choice if you wanted to stay safe. But now you’re Meara the student and Meara the musician and Meara the friend.

Maybe Meara the boyfriend, soon, if you’re lucky.

General taglist:  @ohsugarfoot @abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace @drippingmoon @theschoolofathena @viskafrer @thelaughingstag @athenswrites @kaiusvnoir @magic-is-something-we-create

Black & Blues taglist: @winterandwords @lynnedwardswrites

[emelkae]

Last Line Tag

Thanks for the tag, @andromedatalksaboutstuff @aohendo @winterandwords @epickiya722 and @eccaiia!

From WARRIOR:

Mobo gestured to Sharpe, who held out the biggest dead arachnid Briar had ever seen.

“Hey, Briar!” Mobo called. “We killed a spearleg! Well, Sharpe did. Do you eat these?”

Briar stopped himself from gagging. “I’ve never tried one before.”

“Damn it. Will you? It’s all the food we have. There’s lots of protein in it.”

“It's likely to restore your strength, Briar,” said Circuit, putting away his drone. “Then we can continue through the swamp when you've finished. We’ve been idle for a long time.”

Sharpe dumped it on the ground when Briar committed himself to eating a giant arachnid for lunch. His fists clenched as soon as they were free of guns or dead things, his purposeful mood having soured back into darkness.

That wasn’t good.

Leaving an Open Tag, but also tagging @blind-the-winds @justwriteyoudummy @shaicarus @pepsiwriteswords @klywrites @writting-in-blood @drabbleitout @catharticallysarcastic @mysdrym

[chrismerle]

What's up, everyone? We've been over this before, but for anyone who hasn't seen it before, I am a freelance editor. I'm looking for work to bolster my current long-term contracts because diabetes is expensive.

My credentials:

I have a Bachelor’s degree in English and I’ve been freelancing as an editor since 2014.

I’ve handled fiction and nonfiction.

Nonfiction topics I’ve dealt with include law, business, finance, marketing, tech, travel, wellness, and medical.

I’ll handle any genre of fiction. That includes gore, horror, and smut. I have no triggers.

The shortest piece I’ve edited was 95 words. The longest piece I’ve edited was 115,000 words. That latter one has 5 stars on Amazon and the writer called me a godsend.

Things I’ll do:

Beta reading: During this stage, I don’t do any correcting of typos or grammar or anything like that, but instead offer my input on anything that stands out or seems weird or noteworthy. Like if I get to the end of the book and still have no idea what a prominent character looks like, or if it feels like a plot thread didn’t get tied up, or if I just think parts of it are a bit dull. Or if I think something works really well! If you have a list of questions you want me to keep in mind, I will do so, but otherwise I’ll just make observations as they come to me. $1.00 per page.

Line editing: This is when I go through the story line by line to spice up the prose, while also adjusting sections that are awkwardly or confusingly worded. There won’t be much of a focus on basic proofreading since the contents aren’t quite finalized yet, though I’ll probably fix any errors that jump out at me. $1.50 per 100 words.

Copy editing: Making sure the writing is as clear and consistent as it can be. I’ll fix spelling and grammar issues. If a number is spelled out on one page but typed as a digit on another page, I’ll make sure those sorts of things are consistent. If a page switches from present tense to past tense halfway through, I’ll fix it. Misplaced modifiers? I’ll iron them out. Subject changing halfway through a sentence? That will also be addressed here. $1.00 per 100 words.

Proofreading: Checking spelling and punctuation and so on. English is a pinata of spelling and grammar rules, and even people who have been speaking the language since birth can’t always write it. There’s no shame in needing some spring cleaning. $0.85 per 100 words.

Rush Orders:

In the event that you need something done very quickly, a rush order fee will be applied. Regardless of the length, if you need it within less than three full days, a rush order fee will be applied. Beyond that, take the final word count and then divide by 4,000, and that is the number of days in which the rush order fee applies.

Ex.: If you have a 52,000-word novel, then if you divide that by 4,000, you get 13. If you need me to finish the document in under 13 days, a rush order fee will apply.

For the rush order fee, take a quarter of the price for work and add that on.

Ex.: If we say that 52,000-word novel is 104 pages and you want the full works–beta reading, line editing, copy editing, and proofreading–then that would be $1,846. The rush order fee would be $461.50, bringing the full total up to $2,307.50.

I take payment through Paypal at t.elspeth.williams@gmail.com. I also have a Bill.com account. If I have multiple takers lined up, then I’ll work through projects in the order they’re presented to me, though rush orders will be allowed to jump the queue. If you can’t or don’t want to pay all at once, then I’m happy to work out a weekly, biweekly, or monthly payment plan. We’ll address scheduling discrepancies in advance, obviously. If you need something done within two weeks and there are three people ahead of you, I will say as much.

My ask box and my DMs are open. If you don’t want to get in touch with me through tumblr, you can also email me (t.elspeth.williams@gmail.com) or use Discord (shaicarus#8286).

[trashyeggroll]

tagged by @shaicarus thank you 🥰

Name: trashy, trang, t****, i’m a mystery

Gender: ???? ?????????? ??? but like in a non-practicing afab kind of way

Height: i’m at least 5’ 5” when i push my baseball cap up on my head

Sexuality: queer

Favorite animal:

Dogs or cats: Yes

Current time: 5:00pm ish

Dream job: AV production for a nonprofit. I work from home.

When I made this blog: i think late 2018

Why I made this blog:

Reason for URL: is joke 😅 cuz... i’m viet and white so... an eggroll but the crappy kind u get at a midwest gas station 😅

Followers: 600+ (what are ya’ll doing here 😒)

tagging: @prettylilproblem @csquirrel27 @toastycharmander @sazernac if it brings u joy

[athelari]

how 'boooouuuuut either Fragments or Vortex. never get enough of cyberpunk.

Aye, never enough of cyberpunk indeed! Thanks for asking!

Fragments (so titled because I had only fragments of a plot at the time) centres around Vega, a… solver; well, she's somewhere between private eye, fixer, and hired gun (this hybrid profession is commonish in the setting). At the start, Vega loses her partner during a botched job, partially because of unforseen circumstances but also partially due to her own arrogance. Fast forward to present day, and she's stuck in a rut. A man approaches her with a missing person job, but she's reluctant to take it after what happened last time. Until, that is, she recognises the missing person as a childhood friend. As the case goes on, more and more allusions to her past crop up, and it becomes increasingly obvious whoever is behind this is out to get her and her alone.

Vortex shares the same setting as Fragments, but instead of one main character, flip-flops around a smaller ensemble cast. The titular Vortex is a group of solvers (man, I'm really not sure about that, but it's a useful placeholder until I find a better word for the job). They discover that a rival group is developing illegal and possibly dangerous cybernetics for their own men and decide to interfere, not just because of the business implications but also because they recognise the lead medical officer as an old friend who'd supposedly retired. Most of the plot follows them trying to foil the rival's plans while also rescuing the doctor.

See, the thing is… both of these projects are conceptualised not as prose, but video games. Fragments is meant to be an immersive sim with a focus on stealth and investigation (I had a hard time describing my intended genre/vibe at first, then I played Deus Ex and basically went "...this. this is what I wanted."); I'm a bit more open on Vortex, but aiming for something systemic with a hint of RPG for the whole party-based thing. As for how I'll do it… well, I'm still far behind on my coding classes, heh.