#sorry it's relatively unpolished

[alectoperdita]

Smutember 2022 Day 1: Library

Silence is golden

Part of Lure, a Kaijou yakuza AU

Rating: Explict Ship: Jounouchi Katsuya/Kaiba Seto Tags: Master/Pet, Power Imbalance, Public Sex, Fear Play, Edge Play, Rough Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Come Swallowing

@smutember​​ 2022 day 1 prompt: Library @smutember​ 2022 day 8 prompt: Be quiet!

Jounouchi and Kaiba spend some quality time together at the Domino University library. Set one week after Nothing comes free.

Read on AO3

🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪  

It was deathly silent.

Jounouchi had been to graveyards with more signs of life. Maybe it was the time of day—early evening meant most students were eating dinner—or libraries were always this awkwardly quiet.

He didn't know. He didn't hang around places like this. He wouldn't even be here if Kaiba had ordered him to come to campus via text message.

So fucking quiet.

Except for the wet, deafening sounds of his throat contracting around the cock plugged inside him and his labored breathing muffled against Kaiba's groin. Mercifully, this meant Kaiba had to keep his trap shut too. No dirty talk. The only acknowledgement Jounouchi earned from the other boy was one hand tangled in his hair.

Being shoved under a table wasn't comfortable. Not a new experience for Jounouchi, but the public setting was. They were in a remote spot on the far end of the top floor, as far away as possible from restrooms, elevators, and stairs. This book section must be an unpopular subject because Jounouchi hadn't seen another soul since they arrived. There was one other table nearby, and it sat empty the entire time Kaiba groped him before ultimately forcing him to his knees.

Logically, he knew Kaiba had scoped out the place beforehand. Because as much as the kumicho delighted in sexually humiliating him, Kaiba couldn't afford to be caught in a compromising position either.

Still, the risk of discovery wasn't zero.

And maybe that non-zero possibility was the reason Jounouchi's dick strained against his jeans. He was painfully, achingly hard. He resisted the urge to touch himself, though. Kaiba never forbade it outright, but he knew the other boy would disapprove if he tried. No, Jounouchi kept both hands perched on Kaiba's knees, so it was always clear where they were. Last week's punishment still sat at the forefront of his mind.

Jounouchi was here to please Kaiba, nothing more. To be his personal cock sleeve.

Wood creaked as Kaiba shifted minutely in his seat. A commanding tug on Jounouchi's hair eased the cock head out of his convulsing throat. A moan built in his chest as Kaiba's slick shaft glided across his tongue. He swallowed it uneasily. It was so much harder to stay quiet when his mouth wasn't completely stuffed. Greedily, he lapped at the slit and swirled his tongue around the tip, encouraging the production of more pre-cum that he swallowed without hesitation.

Kaiba hummed, barely audible, but a faint note of approval strummed through it. Jounouchi's blood roared in his ear. His cock throbbed in his pants. He redoubled his efforts, sucking quietly on the head and rubbing the underside with his tongue.

Kaiba allowed him to dictate the blowjob's pace for the next several minutes. But the hand clasping his locks was a constant reminder that Kaiba was ultimately in charge. Not that Jounouchi ever forgot.

He couldn't afford to.

It was in his best interest to pick up the pace. Just because no one had come across them yet didn't mean it'd stay that way. The sooner he got Kaiba to blow his load, the sooner he could get out from underneath this cramped table. Yet he took his time suckling and licking Kaiba's arousal as if it was a lollipop, his favorite one.

Could he get Kaiba to make more involuntary noises? Or even get him to crack and address Jounouchi directly?

Good boy—he so desperately wanted to hear those words from Kaiba's lips.

If only he could see Kaiba's face and Kaiba could watch him worship his cock in return. Kaiba's flesh pulsed in his mouth. He felt hard enough to pound nails. Certainly hard enough to pound Jounouchi's ass until he was reduced to a drooling mess.

Well, even more of a drooling mess than he already was.

Wanton need simmered in Jounouchi's gut. Hollowing his cheeks, he increased the suction and took Kaiba's length into his throat again. He trembled and reveled in the feeling of his throat being split open—in how full he felt—how Kaiba owned him, pure and simple. Under his palms, though, Kaiba's thigh muscles twitched and flexed. If they were anywhere more private, Kaiba wouldn't think twice before viciously fucking his face and throat.

But they weren't home. They weren't even in a public bathroom stall. So Jounouchi did his utmost best to keep quiet as he bobbed his head up and down. Especially when Kaiba's cock slammed into the back of his throat, evoking sharp hunger pangs with every thrust. His scalp stung from how hard Kaiba pulled his hair.

Kaiba was close, as was Jounouchi. Despite being completely untouched, he was already on the verge of coming. He couldn't wait to drink Kaiba's cum.

"Kaiba-san?" A female voice rang clear across the stacks.

Jounouchi froze. The sharp click of high heels drifted over from a nearby aisle, steadily moving toward them. If he hurried, he could tuck Kaiba back and crawl out before this person reached their table. But when he tried to peel off, Kaiba clamped a hand over his neck and shoved him down.

Jounouchi's nostrils flared as his panic deepened. He couldn't contain the choked noise he made when Kaiba slammed deep into his throat again. It probably wasn't audible under the footsteps. Unable to move, his gaze flitted sideways, and he watched helplessly as a pair of pink heels stopped less than a meter to his right. The legs were bare, showing off dainty ankles and shapely calves.

"Inoue-san," greeted Kaiba with a slight strain in his voice. "You're here late."

She giggled. "I could say the same for you, Kaiba-san. My, my, you work hard, don't you?"

At that moment, Jounouchi wished Kaiba was significantly less hard in his mouth. Was the sick bastard getting harder?

"I thought I'd get a head start on the next section of econ," said Kaiba. Underneath the table, he started stroking the nape of Jounouchi's neck.

To Jounouchi's mortification, the touch soothed his anxiety and mollified his protests. It was time to accept his situation. Inoue, whoever she was, obviously had no idea what was going on under her nose. As long as he didn't move and stayed quiet, she'd have no reason to suspect anything was amiss.

Jounouchi could do that. He could be Kaiba's cock sleeve and keep him hard and warm in his mouth until this chick went away. Then they could finish what they started. He'd suck Kaiba dry. Hopefully, there was a reward for him afterward.

And it was thrilling. Jounouchi's body certainly thought so. His heart hammered, racing from a mix of fear and excitement. Blood flooded his burning face and his stiff dick. Saliva pooled in his mouth. It dribbled past his lips and down his chin in sticky rivulets. His skin felt clammy. He tingled from head to toe, desperate and overstimulated. Riding an adrenaline rush to boot.

They were getting away with something unspeakably filthy. A dirty little secret that only he and Kaiba shared.

Times like this made him grateful that Kaiba trained the gag reflex out of him months ago. As the kumicho would say, a good sleeve should always be ready to take cock. The fingers rubbing circles on his skin seemed to encourage him to continue, so he did. He tried wiggling his tongue. It was the only thing he could do without making noise. The flesh laid across his tongue jumped. Kaiba's legs stiffened as he sat up even straighter.

Satisfaction coursed through his veins as Jounouchi repeated the motion. This was his purpose: servicing and pleasing Kaiba. He'd do a good job, too. Wouldn't give the other boy a reason to find him lacking or punish him. 

The conversation continued overhead. Something about a class reading. Jounouchi couldn't care less. Why won't she go away? Didn't she know? No talking in the library, dammit! Even he knew that.

"So where's your friend?"

"Pardon?"

From the corner of his eyes, her legs turned toward the other chair that was pushed in. Jounouchi left his jacket draped over its back. The oversized windbreaker's sleeves hung centimeters off the floor. It wasn't enough to hide Jounouchi completely, not if someone looked straight under the table, but it afforded some protection.

"Jounouchi-kun—"

He couldn't tense at the sound of his name. Not that he could go anywhere. Not with the iron stranglehold Kaiba had on him.

"—I saw you both earlier this afternoon."

Realization hit him with the force of a train. He tensed. That was why she sounded familiar. Inoue—Hitomi, she hit on him last week. She was the reason that Kaiba had meted out such a humiliating punishment. Why couldn't she leave him in peace?

"He had to step away," said Kaiba, continuing to caress Jounouchi's neck. Oh, the bastard was definitely enjoying this turn of event. "I'm not sure when he'll return."

"Oh, that's too bad. Tell him I said hi, then?"

She sounded disappointed. Jounouchi decidedly wasn't.

"Certainly. I'll let him know."

"Thanks, Kaiba-san! Have a good night!"

"You too, Inoue-san."

It felt like an eternity before her footsteps faded. Jounouchi gradually relaxed. A mistake, as he received no warning before Kaiba yanked his head back, then down again. An involuntary whine tore out of him before Kaiba's cock plunging into his abused throat cut the sound short. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably. Kaiba groaned and retreated a fraction before bitter cum flooded Jounouchi's mouth, coating his roof and tongue. He furiously blinked back tears as he struggled to swallow without spilling a drop. Kaiba held him firm for several beats as his dick twitched and pumped the dredges of his orgasm down Jounouchi's gullet.

Jounouchi's chest heaved despite his shallow breaths. Overwhelmed—he was so overwhelmed by the taboo and shame. He hadn't even cum yet. He barely registered Kaiba releasing him. Well-trained reflex prompted him to suck the other boy's softening cock clean of any remaining semen. Finally, he let the dick slip from his mouth and gulped another mouthful of salty fluid.

Before he could catch himself, he rested his sweaty forehead against Kaiba's knee. He panted silently as his mouth and lungs gasped for air. Fingertips grazed his cheek. He flinched, but Kaiba merely scratched behind his ear as if he was a dog. Much like the belly rubs, it was so demeaning, but it felt nice. Powerless, he leaned into it, biting his lips so he didn't whimper.

"Good boy," whispered Kaiba, running his trimmed nail over the shell of Jounouchi's ear. "You can touch yourself now."

Jounouchi didn't need to be told twice. He hastily undid his fly and dove one hand into his underwear. It took less than a handful of rough strokes and ear scratches before he spilled himself into his fist. Nor did he make a peep as he came.

They were at the library, after all.

[jellitchi]

vat7k designs in my head...

i thought their canon designs were a eensy weensy bit Unpolished so i made these mostly for myself. erm if u rly want it i think varian is 19 here, hugo 19, nuru 18, yong 12.

i also made rhem all playlists and had to draw them a cover so thats what the last img is I linked each of em under my notes for all of em... Under the cut is Like a Huge Infodump of notes i have for each chara,,,,,,

i kept varians design basically the same, i dislike the design w the orange neck thing so i just Nuked it😭... Here's Varians playlist

Hugos design i just wanted to put him in something more Loose. hes a thief, a professional escape artist. i dont think wearing clunky metal is ideal for him. i also gave him a prosthetic arm (blond w no arm design trope!) but u cant see it in the ref so i added another drawing of him in his under layering👍 i vaguely referenced russian(?) clothes for him as well... Yeah not too much changed w him i just tried to make him slippery-er. Here's Hugo's playlist

yong came relatively easy to me, if it wasn't obvious i did rip gaming from g*nshin's hoodie. i thought the lion hood was Adorable and freaking perfect for what i had in mind for hos character. since the og notes said the fire kingdom is loosely Chinese inspired i basically just kept that. i mashed tgt a buncha diff dynasties though sorry for how inconsistent i was... i think he looks Okay. anyways i changed yongs role a bit, ill explain why im adjusting some of their roles later but i kept yong as the Jinx Type character. hes the eldest in his family and has a buncha younger siblings, hes a lion dancer and does performances w his family/siblings. he rly like special effects n keeps tryna incorporate his fireworks into their performances (it flops and he has to sew up the dmg) ill explain more of yongs role in another post maybe shrugs... Here's Yong's Playlist

miss nuru was a bit of a struggle for me i might share my full design process with her coz i did a Bunch of mockups for her😭😭😭... i didnt have a specific country of reference for her but i chose to make her vaguely south asian inspired. i also really wanted to keep the sheer fabric w the star / constellation map. i love that idea its so cute so shes still technically the navigator. but she also wields a sword too, fencing or whatever. (her and varian r Huge Cass fangirls which is probably why she started tryna use a sword (snuck out to watch cass compete) Okay ill talk abt this later) in my head, okay ill Probably make a whole nother post talking abt how im interpreting/writing each chara, but in my head i think nuru is the youngest and her kingdom's archivist. shes mostly in charge of like Her kingdoms history / artifacts / etc. ok im getting too side tracked ill save the lore dump for later but thats Nurus role in the party. Here's Nuru's Playlist

uhm below i made their character stats mostly to help me with planning / role developing. the yellow is their base stats the color behind is their end stats i guess. i was gonna explain my reasoning for their stats but ermm this post is kinda Really long so sorry😭... varian max int for obvious reasons, also max charisma just coz i feel like u kinda learn a thing or two being around a couple manipulators and spending time in jail idk shrugs... (also lets not forget the "ud b surprised what ppl would do for a cookie!") Hugo slippery guy, if a brick is thrown at him as hes running hes gonna try n run faster to shatter it, his mindset is Run Run Run! i think hes relatively agile too but yeah mostly a Speedster. i think he n varian got no Physical strength varian maybe just like A little coz Farm boy but I rly doubt quirin is making him do a Lotta heavy lifting. yong has incredible stamina and agility because hed a performer. nuru is the strongest coz this team would literally Flop without a proper Offense😭... i think varian n hugo r able to outwit plenty of their opponents but i think nuru is pretty good in a fight, same w yong. Yeah Okay Sorry for a Long Long Post thanks hope u guys enjoy

[sensitiveheartless]

hi. don't know if you'll get to read this, but I hope you're okay. your last post was about your hands, so hopefully they're fine, and you are healthy overall.

I do miss your writings and drawings, they are very comforting, but! and this is a big BUT! you need to take a break when you need it.

sorry if this is kinda pushy, that is not my intention at all. <3 for you health!

Hello! Oh my gosh this is very sweet akdsfjksfjksdf I really appreciate it! Sorry about the slight radio silence, I kept meaning to make an update and then getting distracted before I could finish it, so this is actually a great opportunity to finally do that update, thank you anon!

The current situation is that my whole household is moving this month, which overall is going to be a very good thing (my current living situation has a few problems) but it also means I am currently drowning in book boxes XD My hands are doing relatively okay, but moving tons of books is definitely hard on them (plus I have a different chronic health issue unrelated to my hands which has been making me extremely exhausted skfjkdfs). In short, I'm doing my best not to fuck up my hands and health too badly, so I've slowed down on a lot of things; I am still drawing every day, and making progress on fics, but it's slow, and I'm haven't been sure if people want to see WIP scribbles and writings on here.

^ For example, most of my art efforts have been like these sketches recently lol

Ah, a bit of positive news though! I managed to finish a very self indulgent comic today! >:D So I'll be posting that soon.

Thank you for the well wishes, and I hope you're having a good day today, anon! I will be posting when I can (and if people don't mind them being rather unpolished, I can post scribbles which would be more frequent lol)

[nemirambles]

Fraymakers: Nearly a Year Later

Hello everyone, I just wanna lay some groundwork. I’m an ex-SSF2 modder, SSF2 being Super Smash Flash 2. I used to go under the handle “Foxx”. That’s with two x’s by the way. A lot of my mods are more or less kinda just lost media now. I used to work on SSF2 Delta but left on my own volition due to disagreements with some of the leads. I'm most notably known for making cosmetic related mods for the competitive community. I started messing around with the game when I was maybe 12 or so? I’ve made a lot and I’ve seen a lot in that time and if there are any SSF2 devs or old acquaintances that knew me that’re reading this now, sorry. I was a shitter then but I'm better now and will promise to continue to keep improving myself. When I write this essay, I’m saying this as someone who’s loved modding the game, playing with others and looking back at old community drama somewhat fondly.

When I saw Fraymakers be initially revealed, I was really excited to see a new project from McCleod and for it to be one that seemed to be fully embracing the modding scene that they’ve cultivated over the years. It was finally gonna be this huge breakthrough for this team that had basically been going under appreciated and recognized for all the work they put into SSF2. The Kickstarter showed off 6 characters, assists, training mode hitboxes, stage hazards, some single player content, rollback netcode and a bit more. With the way the trailer was edited, it appeared that most things shown off were either done or close to being completed. There was sparse content sure, but nothing that looked unfinished. No sketched animations, hazards seemed to be working, the UI was functional, the game seemed like it was on a good path.

Two years later, it was released on Steam in early access and I don’t think I’ve ever been any more disappointed playing a game. I know that it’s an early access but when the game can’t even run at 60FPS for some mysterious reason, something is probably wrong. Rollback was shitty, meaning that most people had to just play on delay netcode. Which is kinda shitty in of itself, but the quickplay function just automatically turned rollback on, meaning that you’d be forced to play with it. This basically ensured that quickmatch was more or less dead on arrival. There was a built in online stress test to see if you’d be good for online play and I just wanna say that my relatively new Steam Deck struggled to get a good online stress test score on max quality. For a 2D sprite based game. Training mode was pretty much nothing. There was no hitbox viewer. Several characters had unfinished animations. You couldn’t play time matches. You couldn’t really change any significant match settings. Only one stage had hazards, the hazards in question being two extra platforms under the stage and the UI was abysmal. That last part isn’t like a *real* huge issue I just felt like pointing out how utterly terrible the UI design is here.

This left everyone with 4 characters that’re at varying levels of unfinished or unpolished, 5 stages and a good chunk of assists that sorta feel more like cute gimmicks than anything else. The only other thing was the workshop content but we’ll talk about that later. But that was at launch, of course it was going to be messy. But it’s been 10 months since then! Almost an entire year! Surely it’s gotten better, right?

It Did Not Get Better

Well since then we’ve gotten several quality of life updates, fixes to the input system, some optimization improvements, several finished animations, some online improvements, a new assist and a new character. I might’ve missed a bit here and there but that’s about the sum of it. How did these changes fare? Well they undoubtedly improve the game, for sure. But it’s kinda not enough? I know it’s crazy to say that when we got a new assist and a new character but respectfully, the issue wasn’t the lack of characters as much as it was just the lack of quality surrounding the characters, at least for me. Sure they added like two extra guys but the training mode is still awful, online is still bad (if you can even get a match), some characters are STILL unfinished sprite wise and the game STILL doesn’t have things like time matches. There simply isn't anything to do.

Anything greyed out cannot be selected or toggled.

How about those stage hazards? Well some were shown off in the trailer, seemingly being functional and or finished. Now that the game is out in EA, there's only one stage with hazards. Wanna know what the hazard is? Two extra platforms at the bottom of the stage.

I guess it's now also a good a time as any to mention the absolutely abysmal Kickstarter rewards. Wanna know how much you get for two thousand dollars? You get the game, ONE golden costume, a test build, a DIGITAL artbook, a discord channel, your name in the credits will show that you're angel tier and you'll get some online tags. You also get to play with the devs on their terrible netcode! That might seem like a lot but in reality that's kind of only really three things, the game, a costume and an artbook. Sure you get some fancy stuff by your name in the credits but… y'know I decided to go check this myself to be super sure. Your name doesn't like glow or anything in the credits it just sits in a tier above everything else, which alright, fair enough, but who's gonna be checking that really? Is that really what you want for two thousand?

You could add 5 more characters and people still would pass this by because the general quality of life is still genuinely super shit. Hell, when you change your controller profile in the settings, the controls in the menu don’t even update until after you restart the game. This isn’t even an issue SSF2 had. It doesn’t have controller profiles but it did at least recognize what button did what after having it be set. This might seem harsh but this game is 20 whole ass dollars. You might be ready to say “oh but they’re packaging a game creation tool with this, that’s where part of the money is going as well”. We will get to that just give me a moment. First I wanna ask the question of who this game is even for.

Audience?

Really, I’m genuinely asking. Why would you play Fraymakers? For the gameplay? I mean it’s more or less just SSF2 with assists and those assists aren’t really that fun to play with. They just kinda feel like ways to cheese out stocks. There’s utility ones but… you know nobody’s using those when they can combo into an assist that does damage and kill at like 80 in a game where it’s very easy to rack up damage. The music? It’s amazing but nobody’s playing a game purely for that unless it’s some sort of rhythm game. Quality of life? This is some of the worst quality of life in a modern fighter. It’s not easy to get matches, it’s already a Discord fighter, and when you DO get matches it’s gonna be a lot of the same. It’s fun but it’s not really fun enough to wanna keep playing it over all the other fighting games or even platform fighters out at the moment. So that leaves the workshop which is cool and all but there’s that Rivals of Aether sized elephant in the room. Sure, Rivals is 10 dollars more than Fraymakers but,

It has players

The modding support for that game is huge

The game is much more complete than Fraymakers

The online is actually good

Rivals workshop completely and utterly decimates this game. Considering Rivals is an actual finished and polished product, it’s just not that fair of a fight. But that’s just how these things go, sometimes you just can’t compete and I don’t think Fraymakers will be able to. The worst part about this is that Fraymakers COULD’VE had a strong audience for it’s modding scenes but do to choices made on McCleod’s end, that potential community was basically kneecapped before this game even existed. That last bit is really important. I’m about to get into some deeper stuff regarding the SSF2 modding scene and how McLeod’s choices with it undoubtedly led to the poor modding scene for Fraymakers.

This Was A Long Time Coming

The SSF2 community and Fraymakers community might as well be 1-1. Well not 1-1 in the sense that SSF2 players play Fray, they don’t, but most Fraymakers players tend to play SSF2. One thing you ought to know about the SSF2 community is that it’s sort of splintered. Not as much as it used to be, but it used to be broken up quite often. This game more or less was the next thing for a lot of us, SSF2 is a flash game that’s limited by it’s engine, even despite the absolute magic these developers have put into it to push it far beyond any other Flash project. Fraymakers was or will hopefully eventually be the next step for the scene and for a lot of us to move forward. While the competitive community may, the modding community definitely will not.

This is some old stuff but a good few years back, McLeodGaming was quite antagonistic towards the SSF2 modding scene. You’d be banned from the Discord if you posted mods there or showed off hitboxes. If you were shown to have leaked content from the unreleased beta build at the time, you’d be banned from online for months, even if you weren’t distributing it. I don’t have the proof of these things anymore but if you ask certain people who were around in 2017/2018, they could likely corroborate, but being a modder would actually decrease your chances of being hired as a developer if you were.

While the SSF2 dev team was hostile as shit to modding, it was at least somewhat justified. I won’t pretend that I wasn’t pretentious when it came to editing the game and I had a good amount of “it’s just that easy” moments and while I was being snobbish and many competitive players and modders alike were also being snobbish, they weren’t totally unfounded. Like sure we made fun of the balance but that wasn’t entirely unfounded. Let’s not forget 9b Zelda, 3.2 Samus, memory leak Lloyd, reworked Sora, Krystal, the terror that used to be Tails and so much more. There was also the matter of people sharing around leaks of the beta build of the game. But this was a very small minority in actuality.

There was still a very large community for this kind of content that was pretty much rejected rather than embraced. So modders went and made their own community. There began this sort of disconnect between the developers and the modbase. Sort of. Some developers were still very receptive and interested in the modding scene, shoutouts to TSON, but it was still largely rejected when it came to official spaces. Some of the higher ups in the modding community started to almost resent the people in charge of SSF2. Creating rifts that might still be there to this day.

I mention all this not to point fingers at anyone in particular or to say that one side was shitty. I think that both kind of were, but that whatever chance Fraymakers had to gain a large modding scene basically went out the goddamn window when just a few years previously they had done everything in their power to keep modded content away from their game. Because there was this anti-mod authority, all the people creating content in SSF2 just… went away from official avenues. FrayTools might as well just be a shitty version of Adobe Flash/Animate. If anyone was going to know how to use it, it would be the people who had spent years putting Vegeta into SSF2. But literally all those people are gone, off in their own spaces. But even beyond that, there’s another thing to keep in mind which is that Fraymakers is directly competing with SSF2. 

Sibling Rivalry

Fraymakers is very similar to Flash 2. I’d even go out and say that Fraymakers probably runs on some refurbished SSF2 engine or at least borrows elements from it. But Fraymakers lacks a lot of the sauce that SSF2 has while also lacking a ton of content. When you make games that are so similar but one has so much more going on compared to the other, it’ll be hard to make people want to throw 20 bucks into a game like Fraymakers. This is ignoring one huge thing though which is that I wouldn’t call Fraymakers a game based around modding. You cannot change anything about the base game itself. You can only add content. You are not modifying anything, you are tacking on free DLC. As far as I can tell, the files for Fraymakers are impossible to get into and any of the talented people from the old days who could’ve figured out ways to break into it are long gone.

On the flip side, SSF2 is a game that is cracked wide open with tons of resources and complete and total freedom.

It isn’t hard to get your hands on the engine and to just kinda start doing shit. It’s annoying to get the process started and you’ll either need to pirate or buy Adobe Animate but boy, if you can’t do some great shit with the game once that’s all been done. There’s not really any reason for those SSF2 modders to come over with that being the case.

So Now What?

Well, I dunno really. I want Fray to succeed but with the lackluster post launch support and SSF2 being there, I find it hard to believe it’ll find true success. It’s retained some players but it seems to have gained basically none and it’s failed to get even half the attention it got at its early access launch since. But that’s the early access launch. There’s still some hope for it to regain relevance when it truly launches but that’s something the future can only tell. In the meantime, I can't really recommend Fray in a good conscience. Not when SSF2 is there on the table and doing pretty much everything better. It sucks but them's the breaks. Hopefully McCleod can turn it around.

[thistle-and-thorn]

5, 14, 23, 26?

(I’m on my phone so can’t include the questions, sorry)

Hope your day turns around and becomes as lovely as you, darling!

Oh!! Hi sunshine. You’re very sweet, I appreciate it! ❤️

5. Favorite form of potato?

Oh!! Galette?

14. Do you think you’re dehydrated?

Yes. I am bashfully slinking to the kitchen and getting water.

23. Do you wear jewelry?

Not as much as I used to! And I really think a lot of outfits recently have look unpolished without it. This is my goal for the next few months is to collect them. I love wearing rings, especially. And I have a very nice collection of necklaces—my favorite is a necklace that literally looks like a flowering rose vine. I don’t have my ears pierced because I hate needles but I don’t know, I love earrings on others!! …I might do it for my 25th birthday, we have 2.5 months to decide.

Spice tolerance?

I think good!!!! I do want to be clear, though, my roommate in college thought ketchup was spicy so it’s probably relative to my social circle.

[pinkribbcn]

location : battle of the bands availability : open ( @volumeupdates​ ) 

when josie found out that runaway yesterday had been signed up for the battle of the bands, she nearly shit her pants. she did not see that coming. being the perfectionist that she is, she didn’t think it was a good idea to do something like this until they were 100% completely solid. she was always told to work until something was perfect or as perfect as it could be. and while she loved the band and her bandmates, they were a relatively new and rough band. 

besides, she could tell relatively white lies about the band to her father. they only did gospel music, they played completely appropriate music, she was only doing it to practice her piano skills. and her parents never really questioned her or came to any of their gigs since josie omitted where they were. but the battle of the bands? that was a big deal and now they were going to find out. that runaway yesterday is anything but a gospel band.

sure, they had worked hard and made a lot of progress since they first started. this was especially true since ethan could barely play guitar when they first started, but still. josie hated the idea of someone seeing something of hers that was unpolished, blemished, anything that could potentially be seen as anything other than pristine. she was pacing around backstage, trying to fight off the imminent stage fright that she knew would inevitably come. 

while she was pacing, she quite literally bumped into someone else. fuck. she couldn’t even pace right? if she couldn’t even be nervous correctly, how was she supposed to go on stage and play everything. the very thought of it made her want to throw up. “sorry.” she managed to breathe out the word, although it was hard to hear because she started to hyperventilate a bit. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

quickly, the air felt like it was disappearing out of the room. josie had been nervous before, her entire life really, but never like this. she felt like she couldn’t breathe. it literally felt like she was dying. she didn’t know what to do or how to make it stop. she couldn’t even breathe enough to ask for help or ask what was going on. the way she saw the world started to blur and she could feel her heart beating out of her chest, something she was acutely aware of now and she was pretty sure it was beating faster than it should be. “i...” was the only word she managed to get out.

[solarscholarsofmagick]

10 Things that EVERYONE Needs to Know Before Starting the Craft

1. Wicca and Witchcraft are Not the Same Thing

This is a pet-peeve of mine when people use those words interchangeably. So, what’s the difference? To put it simply, Wicca is a religion, while witchcraft is a practice. It’s like saying that prayer and Christianity are the same thing. Wicca is a relatively new invention, being created in the late 1950’s by Gerald Gardner after he spent a lot of time in Asia and became enthralled with their spirituality, which he merged with various occult practices that he came across in his travels. Witchcraft, on the other hand, is defined, at least by this author, as the act of manipulating the energy around you to achieve a goal. You can be either or you can be both, but they are not mutually exclusive.

2. Witchcraft Does Not Need to Kill Your Bank Account

If you follow many big-name witch influencers, more than likely, you will get caught up in the aesthetic of hundreds of beautiful crystals, perfect altars, sculpted candles, and much more elaborate and expensive things. Now, I want to make it clear, that there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but it is not always feasible to have (or afford) everything required to fit that aesthetic. Rough, unpolished crystals will work just as good as the one you saw that was professionally polished and carved into the shape of a skull. You can get candles at thrift shops, not just at the website that sells specifically anointed candles for every specific intention. Remember, it is not the tool that makes the witch, but the witch that makes the tool!

3. Know the Difference Between a Coven and A Cult

While it is not necessary, there are definitely some benefits that come with finding a coven that welcomes you with open arems. So, first off, what is a coven?

A coven is a group of like-minded witches that help each other out magickally and hold a special bond or connection. They will often perform rituals together. Please keep in mind that there is a difference between a coven and a cult.

A coven is rewarding, full of (usually) great people and potential friends, while a cult is dangerous, toxic, and filled with people who often prey on the vulnerable or unaware.

Here are some potential warning signs of a cult:

They encourage you to cut off ties with your friends and family.

They try their best to make you dependent on them.

They pressure you into engaging in sexual/criminal/drug activities.

You feel as if it is dangerous to leave.

The “leader” equates themselves to a deity or is a “my word is law” type.

You feel as if you are walking on eggshells around them.

There is some “divine” goal that you must behave a very specific way in order to reach.

Those who manage to escape are demonized and/or are made into examples.

If you suspect that you or a loved one are in a dangerous situation, please contact the appropriate authorities.

4. Witchcraft Can Become Mundane

Pop culture has a bad habit of sensationalizing witchcraft. As cool as it looks, witchcraft isn’t all lightning fingers and demon-slaying. You most likely won’t become a soldier of a magickal war, facing down an ancient evil that was recently released. Sorry, I didn’t mean to burst your bubble!

That being said, witchcraft is extremely rewarding and can be as fun as you make it!

Just like with any other art, it requires discipline! It requires study, practice, and essential tasks (or as they are often fondly called, witchy chores). Some of these “chores” include cleansing, charging, decorating, meditation, and more. Unfortunately, as we all know, these tasks may feel tedious, but they are often very necessary. Again, it is as fun as you make it, and you will be less likely to burn out/hate performing the tasks if you view them as the essential tasks they are rather than unnecessary chores.

5. Learn As Much of the Basics That You Can

As much as we want to immediately jump into more flashy things such as astral projection and elaborate spells or hexes, you must learn the basics first. Why? Because, without a strong grasp of the basics, your magickal work can be unstable and reap results that you may not have intended, including ones that cause harm to you or those around you. To quote a cliche, you must learn to crawl before you can walk.

Here are some basics that I recommend you begin with:

Visualization

Meditation

The history of witchcraft

The elements of a spell

Color/stone/common herb correspondences

Grounding

Different types of the craft

6. Elitism Exists and it’s Bullsh*t

Unfortunately, no matter what community you are in, there will always be a few bad apples, but I will be referring specifically to elitists. Elitists in the witchcraft community tend to preach that their way is the only true way to be a witch, that you must have the most expensive of tools, or that witches who come from a family of witches are better than those who do not. If there is one thing that I want you to take from this article, it’s that, no matter what anyone says, you will NEVER be any less of a witch because of your bloodline, ethnicity, skin color, religion, spiritual practice, or socio-economic status!

7. You Don’t Need to Choose Between Religion and the Craft

One of the most common reasons of being apprehensive towards starting your journey through the craft that I see is a fear of retaliation within your own religion. For example, a lot of Christian witches will initially be afraid of going to hell for their practices. As someone who grew up in the Bible Belt of the Southern United States (poor Awen still lives there), I can definitely relate to this feeling. However, I, as well as several other religious witches, can say that you can have both. You do not need to drop one to have the other. In my eyes, your relationship with your god(s) is between them and you and is nobody else’s business.

To make things a little easier, however, I recommend sliding into the craft slowly. Dip your toe in the proverbial water. Try starting by engaging in activities that aren’t necessarily tied to witchcraft such as meditating, grounding, growing plants, or even just collecting pretty rocks. I also recommend reaching out to practicing witches within your faith for advice. It also may be a good idea to truly research religions of interest and make sure that your religion is a good match for you. It is okay to realize that the religion you were raised to be in, like being raised to be in a particular political party, does not have to be your religion. If it is and it causes you and others around you no harm, then I am truly happy for you and support you.

8. Learn to Listen to Your Intuition/”Gut”

We tend to have a 6th sense for danger or the presence of another being. You may recognize this feeling when you can feel that someone is watching you. Our instincts are built into us to keep us alive. Personally, following my gut has saved my life more than once. In one particular incident, my gut told me to stop at a crosswalk despite not seeing any nearby cars and the sign telling me to walk. Seconds later, a truck sped by, running the red light at full speed.

If you feel that a spell has taken a turn towards the unwanted, find a stopping point and seal it away. Feel as if a deity is calling you? Take the time to research them and their calling cards. However, please take the time to learn the difference between a negative gut feeling and general nervousness, as it does feel different.

9. Learn the Difference Between Good and Bad Resources

Misinformaion and toxic ideologies can be dangerous when it comes to witchcraft. You can read extensively about the difference between the two in my previous post about it here.

10. It’s Okay If the Craft is Not for You

If you decide to try out the craft and later feel as if it isn’t clicking… that’s okay. The initial decision to explore is not one for life. Just like how certain sports, hobbies, music, et cetera are not for everybody, witchcraft is not for everybody. Anyone who decides to judge you for that is wrong and not worth your time.

Please consider supporting us by viewing the original post on our website, here!

[downywrites]

Bird found a cracked prompt and wanted to write it. Wilbur is a dragon. Bird has no words.

...Wilbur is a fucking dragon. I can’t even. Bestie, I can’t. I have no fucking words for how weird this prompt is. Like, no words. Enjoy the shitpost fic.

All was silent on the grounds of church prime. The bells had not been rung, the pews unpolished and undusted. Light rays streamed through the windows, sending shadows scurrying for cover from the dancing squares of lavender-tinted light. The sound of a person stepping onto the marble floor echoed softly. Soft, fluffy feathers puffing up to give him as much warmth as he could possibly get from the cold, imposing building, he shivered, cursing lightly in Spanish as he went. He huddled up to the largest window, basking in the relative warmth there. Quacking happily, curling up on the nearest pew and closing his eyes in bliss.

A similar creaking noise pierced the air, signifying the entry of a new person. Quackity paid it no heed, waving it off as a normal churchgoer. The worst thing one of those people can do is call him weirdchamp. And sure, it would make him cry, but it was only for the subs, you know? A man like him would never, you know, actually cry because someone called him that. (He totally does. He’s really, really sensitive to being called weirdchamp.) Boots drummed on the marble as they walked, a dull thump emanating occasionally when they knocked into something. Confused, he perked up a little, peeking ever so slightly over the pew to look at the source of the noise. A small gasp escaped his mouth. There, in all of his (not at all undead) glory, was Wilbur Soot.

The so called ghost of the SMP sighed loudly, placing his guitar on the floor to play with his belt and inventory a little. He pulled out a small flint and steel, smiling sentimentally, before putting it away in favor of taking out a guitar pick. Quackity’s mind was racing a mile a minute. ‘What? How that fuck? Did Dream actually revive him? No fucking way. Let me get closer.’ He shuffled closer, looking in shock at the very obviously living and breathing person in front of him. Wilbur himself failed to notice the duck hybrid sneaking closer, starting to strum out a few chords on his guitar, wincing slightly at how off-tune it had become from his journey to the church.

He plucked each string with a sense of gentleness in the gesture, as if he was tuning someone’s soul instead of an instrument. His hands danced over the strings and the tuning pegs as quick as the wings of a dove beat while spiraling through the air. Soft, almost timid tuning noises filled the place of worship. Quackity watched, transfixed, as the tuning died down to a few notes, then to nothing once more. Wilbur looked down at the beaten-looking guitar, relief etched onto his face. He sharply inhaled, ready to play the first chords of his song. The sound of his voice reverberated through the space, making his voice sound just as otherworldly as his winged father. The beauty and elegance in his voice contrasted with his words, keeping the duck intrigued by his song. He bounced along to the beat of it, going so far as to quietly trill along to it every once in a while. He let his eyes flutter shut, basking in the warmth of his song. All of a sudden, the music stopped.

“Quackity?” Wilbur’s voice rang out in disbelief. “Why are you here?” Panic welled up in Quackity’s chest. His eyes snapped open, wings splaying in an effort to right himself as quickly as possible. He squeaked loudly, ducking a little underneath the pews in an effort to conceal himself. Trembling, he sat there, not breathing, not moving. A few downy feathers shook themselves free from his wings, settling to the ground gently. The hesitant sound of him approaching made him shake even more, small whimpers of fear escaping his mouth against his will. “Quackity? I’m not going to hurt you.” He looked at the musician, small tears in his eyes. “Y-you promise?” He nods, confused by the turn of events. “Of course I promi-” “See you later, sucker!”

He hopped over the pews, flapping his wings to gain more jump height. The duck hybrid whoops, a great contrast to the emotions he was displaying moments before. He slams open the door, wood creaking dangerously from his sudden burst of strength. The sound of beating wings, muffled by the crunching of snow outside, made Wilbur facepalm internally. He groaned, irritated by the man’s extreme reactions. He looked out of the church door to see Quackity’s receding form. Growling lowly, he sucked in a breath, determined to make him freeze in his tracks. “You know I can fly too, right? And that I’m faster than you?” He grinned slightly. Quackity whirled around, turning to look at him midair. He cupped his hands to his mouth, trying to project his voice. Wilbur strained to hear his voice through the wind. “...you...sure...about that?” That was unmistakable. “You really want to test me, Quackity? Nobody’s supposed to know I’m back yet.” Quackity flipped him off for his efforts to communicate. With a small hop, he warmed up his legs. “You’re going to regret that when I catch you.”

He bent his knees just right to give him a good jump, pushing as hard as he could with both of his feet. He soared through the air a little, giving himself just enough airtime to spread his wings open. They unfurled from behind his back, leathery webs catching the chilly air with practiced ease. He winced at the sharp chill of the snow touching the appendages, before beating his wings strongly to catch up with the fleeing duck hybrid. The wind howled in his ears, prompting him to cover them with his beanie. Within moments, he had almost completely caught up with Quackity.

The latter of the two panted with exertion, failing to notice his shadow looming over him in his tired haze. He turned to look behind him, triumphant in his so-called victory of not being caught. “Haha, sucker! Who’s faster...now?” He looked from left to right, puzzled by his disappearance from his vision. “Where did he…” “Hello, Quackity.” He looked up slowly, eyes dilating in fear at the shape above him. “H-hi…?”

Wilbur pushed him off course, just enough so he wouldn’t get hurt. Quackity yelped, tumbling through the air and flapping his wings wildly. He struggled to keep himself upright, but deep down, both of them knew that his small, fluffy wings wouldn’t be able to support such a maneuver, much less continue to fly in the same path. He half-fell, half-floated to the icy ground below, heart banging in his chest. Wilbur glided down lazily, leathery wings making little to no sound in the gusty area. Quackity’s shoes touched the floor, making him sigh in relief.

“Oh, thank god. I thought I was going to die..”

With an elegant flourish, the musician touched down, wings folding in like origami and disappearing from view. “Hello.” Quackity couldn’t help but make the deal worse for himself. Before he had even thought of something else to say, he blurted out, “You know, saying hello like 10 times isn’t going to make you look cooler.”

His slitted eyes narrowed at the hybrid. Grabbing the duck’s shoulders firmly, he pushed him back down to the ground. His back made contact with the chilly ground, making him shiver a little. Eyes wide, he stared at the musician in slight fear. He scanned his face for any sign of joking around, for any hope in his survival. He found none. Wilburs countenance looked set in stone. “Ehehe, buddy! My friend, let’s talk about this, ok?” His grip tightened considerably, crushing his biceps and shoulder muscles a little bit more. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, dude! Please, chill out!”

Wilbur’s eyes softened a little. “Fine.” He huffed lightly, letting go of the hybrid completely and crossing his arms over his chest. His wings stretched out around him, covering him in a warm-looking cappuccino-colored blanket. Quackity stared at the pair of limbs in wonder. “When did you get these?” He wasn’t going to question how or why he was back in the first place, but he really, really wanted to know when he upgraded from his earlier pair of wings to the monstrosities that grew out of his back presently. Maybe, if he asked nicely, he’d get a pair. (In truth, he was certainly going to do something else to get it rather than ask nicely. He’s Quackity. What’s life without a little fun?)

“Hey, Wilbur? Can you hear me?” No answer. “Wilbur?” His wings shifted around him, covering up more of his body. “Come on, man! You can’t just leave me in suspense!” He scooched over to him, poking at the leather slightly to get his attention. To his surprise, the musician giggled quietly from behind his wings. “Don’t do that.” He poked him again, signature ‘:]’ smile slowly growing on his face. He traced a vein on the other’s trembling wing, listening to the musician’s charming giggles ebbing and flowing.

“Quahahackity...Stohop…” He opened his wings a little, before choosing to close them again instead of stopping him. Quackity raised one of his eyebrows questioningly. “Oh? Did you just decide to not stop me, hm? Do you actually like this?” Wilbur said nothing to deny it, simply giggling louder and pushing his wing into the duck’s hands more. He let his hands roam over his wing, dragging his nails lightly over the soft webbing. His other hand dug gently into the skin of the wing, feeling its silky smooth texture under his palms and fingertips. All the while, Wilbur laughed away, making no move to stop his fellow musician.

Quackity began to grow tired of his quiet giggles. He dug his hands deeper into his wings, coaxing out louder barks of laughter. The other finally pushed him away. “Ahahalright, thahat’s enough.” The duck hybrid was not amused. “No, I think you need a little payback for that stunt you pulled in the air, dude.” He pounced on the other, pushing him down to the ground in a similar fashion as before. Playfulness glimmered in his eyes. Although the positioning meant that Wilbur could leave whenever he truly wished, he still felt butterflies dance lightly in his stomach. He looked away from Quackity’s wiggling fingers, cheeks burning slightly. “J-just do it.” He didn’t have to say it twice.

Quackity dug his fingers into his sides quickly, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. The hispanic’s hands darted underneath his sweater, swiping at his sides and hips. He moved from spot to spot fluidly, keeping the man underneath him guessing. Wilbur’s laughter squeaked when he rubbed and scratched at his hips, prompting him to torture that spot for a little longer. His wings flapped weakly behind him, trying to help him fly away, even though he was flat on the floor. He covered his face with his forearm, laughing behind it freely. “Duhuhuck-bohohoy! Stohohohop! Ihihit tihihihickles!” Quackity pretended to be offended.

“Duck boy? Oh, that’s rude!” He gestured at the man in mock offense with one hand. “That deserves a bit of a punishment, don’tcha think?” He grinned, a look that could scare any casino regular with a hand on their wallet. His hands wandered over to the other’s wings, laying his hands on the very bases. His entire body tensed underneath Quackity’s hands. Wilbur’s eyes widened, snapping to look at him with an intensity he hadn’t seen in ages. “Wait, Quackity- no, no, nOHO!” Quackity scribbled at the seams of his wing, rubbing at the web carefully. Wilbur arched his back almost violently. “NOHAHAHAHA! QUAHAHAHACKIHI- IHIHITY! PLEHEHE- AHAHA!” Ignoring his pleas, the duck dragged his fingers over the base again and again, relishing in the sound of the musician’s charming laughter. His exploration was cut short by a small cracking noise. He stopped for a moment, confused. “What was that noise?”

He looked around for any signs of ice around them, confusion painted on his face. “What-” “Quackity.” Wilbur’s amused voice made him turn back to look at him...to see a dragon, tail, wings, horns and all. “What.” The tan colored dragon underneath him waved at him, a familiar beanie caught in his horns. “I think the spell did more than just give me wings.” His voice sounded amused, but his mouth made no facial expressions. He pushed the duck off, shaking himself out like a dog. Quackity gaped in shock.

“You- wha- how-” The dragon’s jagged shoulders shrugged. “I’m not sure, but Dream’s spell sure did a number on my body, apparently. Want a ride back? I don’t suppose you can fly back without a running start.” He leaned down, letting him get on his back. Quackity marveled at the horse-sized creature, running his hands over his rough scales. “Woah.” He winced when his hand caught on one of his scales, waving his hand around a little bit. Wilbur, completely unknowing of his situation, crouched and took off with a loud beat of his wings. The wind battered the duck like a punch to the face, leaving him reeling. He held on to Wilbur’s scales for dear life, hoping to god he doesn’t fall off on the way back.

It didn’t take long for them to reach church prime. Wilbur landed gracefully on the grass nearby, wings battering the plants that grew nearby and, in some cases, ripping them out of the ground. “You good up there?” He craned his neck to look at him, chuckling lowly at the shellshocked face he saw peeking out from behind his wing joints. He unfurled a wing, placing the tip on the dirt. “You can come down now.” Quackity dragged himself over the scales dramatically, sliding down with a groan. “Dude, your flying taxi skills are shit…” He groaned, holding a hand over his mouth as if he was going to puke. “Bleck!” The dragon laughed, a deep rumbling noise that shook the server. “You’ll be fine, you wimp.” He got ready to fly again, wings stretching out as much as he could allow.

“What the fuck? Why is there a dragon?” Wilbur groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. “Ah, shit. Here we go again.” There were a lot of things to explain that day. It seemed that Wilbur needed to catch up with the rest. And all the while, Quackity giggled at the (newly dubbed) dragon hybrid. After all, what else is Quackity here for, other than the pure chaos?

[youtiaoshutiao]

i just finished "the romance of tiger and rose" and i have nothing to watch now :( do you have any cdrama recs?

hello!!!! sorry i got to this a week late my tumblr is like... neglected currently

anyway i’m so glad u enjoyed tiger and rose!!! i love it so much too :D for cdrama recs, omg it really depends on what u’re looking for!!!! i find it so hard to narrow down dramas that are my faves to recommend because i actually watch very little HAHA and i only watch to completion dramas that i really like anyway xD anyway i’ll just list a few that i’ve watched recently (meaning like... from mid 2019 till now) and really enjoyed!!!

period dramas:

- joy of life 庆余年 (2019): hard to describe this tonally because it’s v irreverant and hilarious yet moving and deep and suspenseful?! the first 15 episodes are fun and enjoyable but i think i really really truly got into it after that and became invested 100%. in my eyes it felt like a fervent love poem to life and the human condition especially towards the end. the characters are all very fascinating and there’s a lot of twisty plot twists. excellent acting and script writing. only caveat is that it’s the first season out of a planned 3 season series so it ends on a cliffhanger, and the female lead doesn’t really have as much agency compared to the other supporting female characters (mainly due to her circumstances and the role she plays i guess).

- young blood 大宋少年志 (2019): YOOO THIS is a huge lovelovelove for me, you have the most lovable squad consisting of 6 very different and generally lonely teenagers who get roped into this secret services thing where they deal with top secret government plots and stuff. and they start off all on the wrong foot and grow to LOVE EACH OTHER and RELY ON EACH OTHER and HAVE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. *sobs just thinking about it* has many supporting characters that are interesting and whom u also get invested in. It’s an original script written by Wang Juan 王倦 who also wrote the joy of life script, except young blood is 100% original and not adapted from a webnovel! just like tiger and rose’s script, which is also an original script written by Nan Zhen. this is SUPER SUPER rare nowadays in cdramaland which is why i stan these 2 dramas so hard hahaha. caveat: young blood also ends on a kind of cliffhanger/open ending, but it still felt like the arcs that the entire series covered in terms of character development were well completed so i was okay with it. plus there are lots of hints that there’s also gonna be a season 2, though I think Wang Juan is still writing the script for that.

- under the power 锦衣之下 (2019/2020): this is the drama that tiger and rose is sometimes compared to in terms of how it became so popular unexpectedly. i would wholeheartedly recommend this 100% solely for the OTP which is a Tsundere Embroidered Uniform Guard (Ming-dynasty secret police) ML x Bubbly/talkative/street smart Constable FL. they are SUPER SUPER cute and the leads (who are both my faves) play them super well and their romantic development is presented really organically. the outfits esp the male lead’s are A+++ also and make him look super super hot. i like the OST too. however everything else is quite mediocre lol especially the special effects and the meandering sideplots and there was a whole plot arc that didn’t really make much sense because a lot was edited out because of censorship. STILL VERY ADDICTIVE THO

- the story of ming lan 知否知否应是绿肥红瘦 (2018/2019): a very long drama (but quite normal by cdrama standards lol) basically about the ~journey~ and ~growth~ of our protagonist minglan, unfavoured daughter of a concubine of a relatively high ranking civil servant. it’s a very different vibe to a lot of other cdramas in that it’s very slice-of-life and slow paced, but i think it’s fascinating how it showcases how women deal and work with the internal dynamics of a household in a patriarchal society, and how that affects societal and political affairs as well. her OTP with an unfavoured son from another family (lol) is also very very delicious as it’s basically 2 people who have gone thru a lot of Trauma as children treasuring each other/learning that they too are treasured by the other and them building their own family and household against all odds and evil family members. it’s v long and slow paced as i mentioned earlier but it’s very very rewarding!! and i think many of my tumblr mutuals would agree it’s quite a favourite :D

modern dramas:

(i’ll admit that i’ve only had the brainspace the past 1 year for fluffy brainless modern dramas so all these are just for the FLUFF)

- skate into love 冰糖炖雪梨 (2020): uni drama where the FL re-picks up her true love speed skating after abandoning it for Reasons and gets back into it competitively. her OTP is her primary school deskmate who is an ice hockey player. the otp is very very fun!! the ML has a lot of resentment towards FL initially because FL was quite the bully in primary school but i really like how they resolved it and eventually the ML falls first and falls Really Really Hard and it is Delicious. the career aspects was quite well done also and i really rooted for the FL to rediscover her passion and pick it up again, and also for the ML to become better at his craft. caveat: i actually still have 10 episodes to go as i stalled because i know there’s a couple of episodes coming up that are going to be frustrating because of typical Misunderstanding and Miscommunication blablabla. but that’s pretty common lolol and overall it’s still a cute watch.

- the 致我们 series consisting of 3 dramas : 

1) a love so beautiful 致我们单纯的小美好 (2017): high school drama basically tsundere male lead x bubbly female lead, they’ve been classmates since young and are next door neighbours, female lead has a crush on him since forever

2) put your head on my shoulder 致我们暖暖的小时光 (2019): set in uni, female lead’s doing an internship far from her school, male lead is a physics student and his parents have a flat for him that is near female lead’s internship place, BAM THEY ARE FLATMATES!

3) the love equations 致我们甜甜的小美满 (2020): uni drama, female lead is a chinese language major who loves writing forensic novels online, male lead is a forensic science major.

all 3 are really cute lolol. i put these 3 because i just watched the third one two months ago and i feel like i have to mention it in the context of the first 2 haha. the first 2 were definitely hits both domestically and internationally. i feel the 3rd one kind of flopped? in terms of reception compared to the first 2 and a lot of my drama mutuals couldn’t get into it, and i can understand why because it did feel more unpolished? in terms of directorial choices/the editing/the acting/the script. but i still somehow really loved it for some reason, i think some parts of the ML’s life esp his relationship with his mum really resonated with me, and i loved FL and her friendships with her dormmates so so so so much. so i really rooted for the OTP.  i think objectively in terms of quality i would rate them 2 > 1 > 3, but in terms of feels... i loved them all. and it’s all just pure fluff anyway at the end of the day HAHA.

ok i’m running out of time writing this hehe but also a quick shoutout to my 2 favourite youth/high school dramas forever - With You 最好的我们 (2015) and My Huckleberry Friends 你好旧时光 (2017) which are sister dramas/set in the same universe and imo, are the pinnacle of youth dramas and what it means to capture the anxieties/stresses/mundane joys/pain/beauty of the Chinese/Asian high school experience. 

there are many others from before 2019 that i watched and enjoyed but i didn’t put them in hehe. and i’m sorry HAHA i actually don’t have much trust in my own taste LOL but i hope it helps!!

ohhhh and i’ve been trying to avoid starting on new dramas because of Exam Prep but there’s been SO MANY airing lately that i’ve been interested in:

The Bad Kids 隐秘的角落: apparently super well done suspense/thriller drama that’s receiving rave reviews everywhere!!

Love A Lifetime 暮白首: an original wuxia starring ren jialun (ML in under the power) whom i love so much and zhang huiwen

My Girl 99分女朋友: this is a modern day cdrama written by nan zhen!!! (who wrote tiger and rose) so i think it might be worth checking out :))

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Here’s a random, unpolished oneshot I wrote on a whim. Features the alebrije character Pizzicato, whom you’ll recognize if you’ve seen some of my other works.

In which Héctor winds up with an unfortunate nickname, and Gustavo learns why you don’t make comments about Héctor’s wife.

(Warning for some inappropriate comments from some of the characters.)

---~~~---

Héctor paused to lean his head against the cool metal handrail again, trying in vain to relieve the burning ache in his head. Shutting his eyes to block out the overcast sky ahead, he gripped the rail a moment longer, grateful they had actually bothered to install one on these stairs. (It was a rarity to have railings of any sort in the Land of the Dead, when one couldn't really die from a fall, but some buildings did have them, whether out of newly-dead contractors building them out of habit or from the insistence of people sticking to tradition.) After a minute, he heard a sleepy chirp from the tiny bat alebrije hanging off the back of his collar, and pulled himself away, forcing himself up a few more stairs.

He'd stop drinking one of these days, he promised himself. When he found a reason to quit, anyway.

Memories from the night before swam indistinctly in his mind as he continued to mount the stairs. He'd been working in the arts district, as usual, and had taken up some local musicians on an offer for drinking. While music was something he tried to avoid these days, the musicians had seemed friendly enough, and as much as he loved Pizzicato, talking with an alebrije tended to get a bit one-sided at times. Pizzicato hadn't exactly been thrilled with his joining them, he recalled, but the temptation of just... normal human interaction had been too strong to resist.

Might've been nice if the cerveza and tequila hadn't been too hard to resist, though.

Shaking his head (and then regretting it a second later when the world tipped), Héctor finally reached the top of the stairs, practically collapsing through the open window. Pizzicato gave a sleepy squeak in protest before snuggling back into his collar—he wasn't entirely sure why she was like that, other than that it probably had something to do with whatever happened the night prior. Leading him home while he was in a drunken daze, maybe.

"I was half-tempted to pull the stairs back up on you," Ceci muttered around the pins she held in her teeth. She didn't look up from her work, focused entirely on the dress hung on the mannequin before her. "What were you doing, sightseeing?"

"Buenas dias to you too," Héctor grumbled, pulling himself up to his feet and brushing off his hopelessly dirty jacket.

Ceci did give him a look, then, eying him over her shoulder. "Buenas tardes."

"Buenas tar... oh." He scratched the back of his head, blinking blearily. "Sorry. Lost track of time."

"Hopefully you didn't lose track of that delivery I sent you off with," she went on, resuming work on the dress.

"Oh, no no no, that's... that's all taken care of." Rubbing his hand over his eye sockets, he strained to remember yesterday. That memory was a bit clearer, at least—he definitely remembered the weird look the customer gave him when he handed him the package, and the lack of a tip. "I got it to them, no worries."

"Good."

He stood there awkwardly, hand on his wrist, as Ceci continued to work on the dress in relative silence (other than the record player running in the background—Héctor wasn't really paying attention to what it was playing, only grateful that it wasn't another de la Cruz album). Briefly he wondered if she'd forgotten he was there, and he pointed his finger to speak.

"If you're looking for another job," she began—Héctor flinched, the sudden volume sending a spike of pain through his head—"the dancers left a mess out in the gallery after their practice last night. The art crew won't clean it because they say it's not their mess, but they're still whining about the glitter getting into their paints." She paused. "And on the materials," she added, brushing something shimmering from the hem of the dress.

"Ah, g-gracias," Héctor stammered, passing through the designer's workshop and out into the main studio. At once he was greeted with the familiar sight of the hastily set-up barriers separating the work spaces of different artists. Many of them were lined with various paintings and sketches, but as Ceci had said, some of them were dusted in glitter. Frowning, he stepped up to one painting of a xolo dog, swiping his finger across the canvas to remove a few flecks of glitter... and yelped when some of the gray pigment came off with it, smearing on the painting. With a hasty glance aside, he wiped his hand off on the inside of his coat and speedily walked away, looking in the opposite direction of the painting.

"Okay, okay, glitter, glitter..." Head turned downward, he found scatterings of the stuff on the floor, and then looked up again. "Ah... I need a... uh... mop? No, no... broom? Dustpan?" He glanced over his shoulder, hoping Pizzicato might be of some use, but only heard a high-pitched snoring. Cute, but not helpful at the moment. Sighing, he looked to the walls of the studio, hoping one of the janitors may have left their equipment there, but no luck—only rows of outlandish costumes. Ugh... where was the janitor's closet, again?

Héctor poked his head into the entrance to one of the partitions, raising a finger and opening his mouth to ask, only to find several very, very tired artists and a skeleton posing nude for them. Clapping his hand over his eye sockets, he stumbled away. "Okay, okay, bad idea, do not ask the artists," he muttered, uncovering his face just in time to dodge another artist hurrying by with a large canvas. Looking around to make sure he wasn't about to collide with anyone else, he continued his aimless journey through the cluttered gallery. "Ask the... uh..."

The sound of laughter caught his metaphorical ears, and Héctor looked toward the far end of the studio, by the glass windows. They were still out of sight, but he was pretty sure he knew who was hanging out there.

His suspicions were confirmed by the sound of a trombone making a long, drawn-out note, followed by more laughter. "Right... ask... the musicians," he said, nodding to himself as he approached them.

As they came into sight, one of them spotted him and hastily shushed the others. That was... a little weird, but he was honestly too tired to care right now. He would've given them a sharp whistle to catch their attention, but was afraid of the noise only worsening his headache, and besides, they seemed to all be looking at him anyway. "Hola," he said, waving casually with one hand as he rubbed his head in the other.

"Ey, Héctor!" one of the violinists—what was his name, Héctor knew his name... Gustavo, that was it—said with a grin. "You doin' okay there?"

"Ehh... I've been better," Héctor said, making an effort to straighten his stance. It took a bit more effort than usual, but with the condition of his bones, what didn't these days? "Just... a bit too much to drink last night, I think."

"We could tell!" One of the musicians began to snicker, only to be elbowed in the ribs by another.

Héctor blinked. "Right. I just needed to ask a favor—"

"A favor?" one of the other violinists asked, while a few of her peers chuckled next to her. The noise seemed to be bugging Pizzicato, who stirred behind him, whining.

"Yes?" His bewilderment seemed to prompt a few more laughs that the musicians tried to cover. "Is... something funny about that?" he asked, briefly looking over his shoulder and wondering if his alebrije was doing something behind him to prompt the laughter.

"No, no," Gustavo said, waving his head. "Go on, what favor do you need?"

"I... just need someone to show me where the supply closet is. Ceci—"

The group immediately burst into laughter, the trombonist accompanying it with ridiculous playing. The sound was like a dagger being driven into his skull, and he held his hands over his head. "Ay, stop it!" he cried, staring at them in utter confusion. "What's so funny?!"

Finally Pizzicato seemed to be roused from her slumber, and he felt her little claws digging into his wig as she climbed up to the top of his head, squeaking in displeasure.

"Who do you want to meet in the closet, eh?" one of the musicians jeered.

"¿Qué?" Héctor blurted. He couldn't make any sense of what they were talking about. Whatever it was, Pizzicato seemed upset by it, letting out a growl, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. "I don't... meet? I'm just trying to—"

"Not one of the girls, that's for sure!" the female violinist added, causing the others to laugh harder.

"I... uh?" That made nothing any clearer, and Héctor was feeling increasingly lost. It would make more sense if the group were just a bunch of cackling hyena alebrijes in disguise. But one thing was becoming clear—whatever they were laughing about, it was at his expense. But what would they...

A sudden panic bolted up his spine, and Héctor whipped around, yanking his alebrije off of his head. "Pizzicato," he whispered desperately, clutching the bat close to his face. "What exactly did I say last night?"

Of course Pizzicato could not answer, only staring up at him apologetically. But his question had apparently not been as quiet as he'd hoped, as Gustavo spoke up behind him: "Oh, nothing too important... chorizo."

The word was punctuated with a few ridiculous notes from the trombonist, and Héctor let go of the alebrije, turning back around to face them again. "C-chorizo?" he repeated. What did that have to do with...?

"Chorizo!" one of the other band members shouted, with a few others echoing it between laughs. Still none of that cleared it up, until another went on: "What a way to go!"

What a way to... oh. Right, that was how he'd... Was that what had happened last night? He'd rambled about how he'd died? That's what was making them laugh like deranged hyenas?

His chest burned in indignation. "W-well I'm sure the way you all died wasn't much better!" he said, gesturing at the group.

"Sure it was!" Gustavo said, getting close enough to elbow Héctor in the side. "Better than choking on a chorizo!"

"What?!" Héctor stepped back, hands up defensively. "That wasn't—! It was bad, I got food poisoning!"

"Sure you did, chorizo!"

He found himself staring at them as they continued to laugh, wondering why the difference even mattered, whether he died by food poisoning or choking on—

Oh.

...Oh.

His cheek bones burned furiously, and he turned away again, covering his face. "That was not what happened," he grumbled into his hands. Not that it would convince them. Pizzicato fluttered around nearby, squeaking angrily at the group, but he tried to wave her off. "Basta—all right, you've had your laugh. Very funny. Now could you just show me where the supply—"

"Ey, didn't you say you were married, too?" Gustavo asked, one brow raised, and the inside of Héctor's rib cage was suddenly burning in anger. "Did she know about—"

The shock of anger traveled quickly from Héctor's heart to his fist.

Next thing he knew, Gustavo was staggering back, supported by the trombonist while the other musicians gave ooooohs of both sympathy and interest. A small part of Héctor regretted the action, but the rest of him didn't care, and his fist remained clenched.

Stupid jokes were one thing, but to even dare to suggest infidelity...

"What's your problem, man?" Gustavo cried, rubbing his jaw where he'd been struck. "Can't you take a—"

Before he could finish, Pizzicato buzzed in front of the group, letting out a terrible, high-pitched shriek that left all of them shrinking back, including Héctor. The noise magnified his headache, nearly blinding him, and he staggered back, blurting out a curse. Immediately the noise stopped, but he was already storming away, eyes narrowed against the ringing in his skull. "Forget it, I'm done," he snarled. "Ceci or whoever can clean the place themselves."

Pizzicato was fluttering after him, squeaking an apology, but Héctor did not slow his pace. He couldn't find the stupid broom, but he knew very well where the exit was—a different one from the fire escape ladder in Ceci's room. Unfortunately, while he left Gustavo and his stupid group behind, the anger and humiliation followed him out of the studio, clinging to his bones. He punched the metal railing of the stairs in an attempt to rid himself of the emotions, but it only resulted in a shock of pain traveling up his arm.

Finally Pizzicato caught up to him, landing on his head and squeaking in concern. "You know," he muttered, narrowing his eyes against the light as he stepped outside, "I'm starting to hate musicians."

His alebrije whined, but said nothing more.

She didn't need to remind him.

[steves-on-a-plane]

The Big Day

Words: 2053 Reader Insert: Dad!Bruce Banner & Daughter!Reader Featuring: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Thor, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff.  Request: “Can you write something cute with single dad Bruce Banner where the reader (his daughter) is getting married and is like the honorary niece of Tony, Steve, Clint, and Thor, and Bruce, Tony, Steve, Clint, and Thor give speeches and take turns dancing with her at the wedding? It takes place between the events of The Avengers and Age of Ultron.” -Anon Summary: It’s the day of her father’s wedding and Reader is less than thrilled about it. She’s worried that with the addition of her her stepmother, she’ll lose the rest of her found family, including her four favorite uncles. Author’s Note: might do a part 2 on this one, I really liked the idea and it started to run away on me.

I could just stay up here. You thought to yourself. No one would notice me missing. Especially not today. You looked at yourself in your bedroom mirror. You supposed you looked alright. They’d hired someone to do your hair and some light make-up so that you’d fit in with the rest of the wedding party. Your plum colored Junior Bridesmaid dress was actually pretty comfortable, and it had pockets. Still you wish you didn’t have to wear it.

You crossed the room to look out the window. It overlooked the backyard where the ceremony would be held in less than an hour. You couldn’t believe the wedding coordinator had been able to pull off a plum and chartreuse color scheme. You’d laughed when she had suggested such ridiculous colors. But Dad had loved it, so that meant you had to too. Team Banner had to stick together. That’s what he’d always told you.

It didn’t feel much like sticking together when he decided to change the roster without your permission. For as far back as you could remember it had been just you and your dad, Bruce Banner. Team Banner was small, but efficient. The Hulk showed up a few years ago, when you were around five. It really tore your dad up, he worried about hurting you all the time. So, you were always on your best behavior and tried to avoid making him upset whenever possible. Things got easier three years ago when your Dad met the Avengers.

You were twelve then, the only kid running around with the team. Since Dad was a single parent that meant you got dragged to SHIELD HQ a lot for meetings and events. You tried to keep yourself busy by reading books or playing handheld games. You wanted to make things as easy on Dad as possible. Eventually you got to know the team and they’d offer to watch you any time Bruce needed it.

Sometimes it was something small like taking you out for ice cream while Dad worked in the lab or helping you with your homework by explaining long division just one more time. Other times it was letting you stay over for the weekend while he was away on a mission. They weren’t blood relatives, but they were family. You weren’t ready for all of that to just disappear. There was a knock on the door. You moved away from the window and sighed. Here we go.

“I was beginning to worry my date was standing me up!” Steve Rogers commented when you opened the door.

“Sorry Uncle Steve. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” You apologized.

“I get it.” Steve nodded. “A lot’s going to change after today. It’s okay if you need to take a minute.”

“Dad needs everything to run smoothly.” You told him. “I promised him we wouldn’t be late.”

“Then we’d better get a move on.” Uncle Steve offered you his elbow and you walked downstairs together. He led you into the kitchen where your Dad, Tony Stark, Thor and Clint Barton where waiting.

They were all practically talking over each other when you and Steve entered the room. Uncle Tony’s tie was still undone, though he’d at least tossed the piece of fabric over his neck. Thor wasn’t wearing a tie, or his jacket and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. Only Uncle Clint seemed to be fully dressed for the occasion. His shoes were shined, his tie tied and his jacket fastened at the waist.

“Does this look crooked to you?” Your dad asked Clint. He tugged nervously at his own tie.

“Young Lady Banner!” Thor was the first to notice you. He greeted you with his booming voice before encircling you in his arms. “You look beautiful [Y/N]!” He appraised when he released his hold on you. “You shall make a fine bride yourself, soon!”

“Thor, she’s fifteen!” Clint commented as he straightened your father’s tie. "Give her at least another year before you try to trade our girl off for some goats.”

“Barton our [Y/N] is worth far more than a few puny goats!” Thor huffed.

“You’re both out of your mind.” Uncle Tony laughed. “[Y/N] and I already agreed that she’s never getting married. She’s dedicating her life to science and the pursuit of knowledge.”

“I don’t remember ever agreeing to this…” You disagreed.

“Well you did.” He assured you. “You were seven at the time, but I haven’t forgotten.”

“Tony the ceremony is supposed to start in fifteen minutes. Do you need help with your tie?” Uncle Steve offered, diverting the attention away from you.

“Well, how do I look?” Dad asked you. You thought about telling him that he looked awful and that everything looked awful, but that wouldn’t stop the day from happening. It would only hurt his feelings.

“Handsome as ever.” You told him. Tony swatted Steve’s hand away and began tying his tie. Steve and Clint both turned their attention to Thor, who seemed adamant that a jacket was not necessary. While everyone else was distracted your dad moved to stand beside you.

“So the big day is finally here.” He said.

“Yup.” You nodded, still watching Clint and Steve struggle with Thor.

“I just wanted to say thank you, for being so good about everything.” He commented. You looked away from the show in front of you and up at your dad. “Things have never been easy for us, but I know it’s been really hard the last few months. I was away on that month-long mission, then all the wedding planning stuff was taking up a lot of time…” He paused to sigh.

“It’s okay, Dad.” You touched his arm, trying to assure him. “You’ve always been there when it was important. This was just an adjustment period. It was temporary.”

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the parent and I’m the kid.” He laughed. “I wanted to get you something anyway. Just something small to say thanks for hanging in there with me.” From his suit jacket pocket, he removed a small purple velvet box. He handed it to you. “Go on, open it.”

You accepted the small box and opened it. Inside was a necklace. The chain was silver, and the pendant was a series of small amethysts set in a silver crescent moon. It was beautiful. With his help you put the necklace on immediately.

“You like it then?” He asked worriedly.

“I love it, Dad!” You promised before hugging him.

“I’m glad.” He hugged you back. “I’m sorry we have to leave you to stay with Uncle Tony for two weeks while Betty and I are on our honeymoon, but the good news is once we’re back, we’ll be able to spend lots of time together and you’ll get a well-deserved break from your uncles.”

You wanted to tell him that you didn’t want a break from your uncles. That over the years you’d grown used to the sort of organized chaos they seemed to always bring with them. Sure, they were rowdy, and a little unpolished, but they loved you and you loved them. You didn’t want the fact that your dad was married to impact your ability to be with the rest of your family.

“You boys ready to get this show on the road?” Everyone looked upwards to see Natasha Romanoff calling down impatiently from a nearby staircase. She sauntered down the stairs and was followed by two more Bridesmaids; Betty’s sister and her childhood best friend.

“Why the long face, Lil’ Banner?” An hour had passed since your father was officially married. They were now legally Dr. Bruce and Mrs. Betty Banner.

The happy couple sat at a small table for two surrounded by everyone else. All the other tables were large and round, seating no more than eight people per table. You were of course seated at the wedding party table. The seating arrangement of which had been carefully charted by Betty and the Wedding Planner. As Best Man and Maid of Honor, Uncle Tony and Betty’s sister sat together. Betty’s best friend and Uncle Thor were next to them. Followed by Aunt Nat and Uncle Clint. You were sat between Uncle Steve and Uncle Tony. It was the latter, who had leaned over to ask you what was wrong.

“No reason.” You lied. You continued to push potatoes around in your soup.

“C’mon, you think I can’t tell when you’re upset? You may have fooled your old man, but not me. Your Uncle Tony wrote the book on pent up teenage aggression.” He told you. “Are you upset about having to stay with me for two weeks?”

“No, that’s not it!” You assured him. “I love the tower and I love hanging out with you! You’re the only one who lets me have dessert for dinner.” You glared down at your soup, even less hungry than you were before. “Now that dad’s married, I won’t be around the tower as much.”

“Why not?” Tony asked. “Your dad getting married doesn’t mean that things have to change between us.”

“But it’s going to.” You huffed. “He already told me I’ll be spending less time with you guys and more time with Betty.”

“Did you tell him how you feel?” Tony asked.

“No. Team Banner has to stick together.” You mumbled. “I don’t want him to think I just don’t like her.” Tony looked like wanted to say more, but the wedding planner had come over and handed him a microphone to let him know it was time for his speech.

“Be right back.” He told you with a pat on the shoulder.

“Big surprise, there’s a party and I’ve got a microphone!” Was the first thing Tony said to the crowd. This of course earned a supportive laugh from everyone. “But for once, this speech is not about me. Today, we not just celebrating the marriage of Bruce and Betty. Today we also celebrate the joining of two families. As many of you know, Betty’s parents and sister are here, even her great grandmother was able to make the trip. Some of you may even recognize Bruce’s daughter, [Y/N].” You looked up at the mention of your name and gave an awkward half-wave to the other guests.

“But what you may not know,” Tony turned to look at Betty. “Is that you’re also gaining another sister and four brothers. Because they Avengers are a family too. We argue like families do, but we have each other’s backs like family too. There’s been plenty of family dinners around the long meeting table at the tower. Uncle Clint taught [Y/N] how to ride a bike, and she taught Uncle Steve how to send GIFs on his cellphone.” Tony paused for laugher, which the crowd easily offered up. “So let’s all raise a glass, and let me be the first to say, ‘Welcome to the family Betty’!”

The meal continued while Betty’s sister gave the next speech. Then your Dad and Betty each said a few words and before you knew it, they were doing their first dance. Waiters were clearing the dishes from tables while the DJ invited everyone else to join the newlyweds on the dance floor.

“I know you might not be feeling up to it, but you’d be doing me a great favor if you joined me in a dance.” Steve told you as he offered your hand out. “Can’t have people thinking that even my own date wont dance with me.” He smirked.

“You care too much about what other people think of you, Uncle Steve.” You told him, before accepting his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“You know, I heard what you were saying to Uncle Tony earlier.” He told you. “You should spend some time with Betty and give her a chance to get to know you. I’m sure that’s what your father meant by what he said. And making room for her in your life doesn’t mean you’re losing any of us. Who else would I get to watch movies with me on Saturday nights? Which reminds me, we’re still on to watch Jaws tonight when your dad drops you off at the tower right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it Uncle Steve.” You promised.

[prism-sakura-s]

Gingerbread Houses

Chapter 1: A Night of Decision

Prompt: Fake Relationship for the Holidays

Warnings: sympathetic remus and deceit (his name is Nathaniel here), pressure, mentions of murder, decapitation, and gutting

Pairings: Eventual romantic Intrulogical, (background) established queerplatonic Prinxiety, (background) pining Moceit

 <   >   AO3

A/N: Here it is! My second fic for @sanderssidescelebrations‘ ts holiday month! Finished just before the last day of Christmas (in America). As such, this whole thing is pretty much raw and... unpolished. Sorry about that. Hopefully y’all find it decent lmao

~

“Oh yes, how could we have seen that one coming?” Nathaniel drawled sarcastically, lounging on the couch and exasperatedly watching Logan pace across the living room. “It’s not like your mom, who birthed a brainy powerhouse, also has a strong memory of her own, as she has demonstrated many times before.” 

“Come on, Nath, give Logan a break,” Patton urged in a kind but firm tone. “It was a simple mistake.”

“A simple mistake I should not have overlooked!” Logan hissed desperately. 

“See? He agrees anyway,” Nathaniel said, shrugging. 

Patton sighed.

“Well, what are you going to do?” Virgil asked, zir feet draped across Roman’s legs. “You just gonna tell your parents you lied?”

Logan paled. “Oh, definitely not,” he said. “They hate it when I lie.”

“So then what, Single Bell?” Roman inquired, clearly entertained by Logan’s befuddled state. “Perhaps say you broke up with your mysterious lover. Holds up the lie while eradicating it completely at the same time.” 

“No, just tell them you accidentally murdered your boyfriend!” Remus suggested gleefully. “And then make up a sob story as to why exactly you did it, along with a graphic description of how! I suggest gutting and decapitation.” 

“But what if they find out you lied in the future?” Virgil asked, ignoring Remus completely. “You eradicate their trust that way.”

“They are…  rather sensitive souls.” Logan grimaced. “There isn’t much I can do about this situation, is there?” 

“How about feeding the lie?” Nathaniel proposed. 

All heads in the room turned to him. 

“What do you mean?” Patton asked. 

“Bring someone along for the stay, tell your parents he’s your boyfriend,” Nathaniel elaborated. “And then say you broke up after, so you don’t have to keep up the act. Easy peasy.”

“You’re just stealing a very popular fanfic trope,” Virgil pointed out. “I believe that’s called a ‘Fake Dating AU’, wherein the two characters in a fake relationship almost always fall in love by the end. If you’re looking to avoid that, I don’t think that would be the best way to go.” 

“Ah, but that’s in the fanfic world, dear Vee,” Nathaniel countered. “We-- wipe that scowl off your face Roman, it’s just a simple nickname-- We are not in a fanfiction, as far as I’m aware. And I think you’re forgetting that Logan here is a master at not feeling extreme emotions. Who says it won’t turn out differently? We’re just employing the tactic, not the plot.” 

“That is a good point,” Patton agreed. “What do you think, Lo?”

“That could be a solution,” Logan mused. “But… are any of you available?”

Silence fell upon the room... for about a second before it was quickly broken by Remus.

“Ro-ro and Virgey-poo are busy platonically smooshing booties, Patton’s family are kidnapping him so they can go to the Philippines to talk with unfamiliar and uncomfortably prying relatives, and your mom loves eye-murdering Nathaniel, so I’d say most of us are unavailable.”

Logan stared at Remus for a while, carefully putting together the information. “So.. all are unavailable… except for you.” 

Virgil coughed into zir sleeve several times. Patton’s eyes widened. Roman looked genuinely panicked. Nathaniel merely smirked. 

Logan considered his option. Truth to be told, although Logan has hung out with everyone a decent amount of times, he’d say Remus was the one he was least close with. Remus was... endearing in a certain way, although Logan couldn’t really pinpoint why. The guy was honest, observant and had a very expanse knowledge of murder techniques, but that’s about all Logan knew about him. 

“I’m a little worried you might… unnerve my parents,” Logan admitted. “Er, no offense but, your interests are very… disturbing to most.”

“Not to Jeffrey Dahmer they wouldn’t be.”

Logan sighed quietly. Was Remus really his only option?

“Aww, pwease Newdy Wowvewine?” Remus cooed, pouting and trying to make puppy eyes. “I pwomise I’ww be a vewy good boy in fwont of youw mommy! And even behind the doow! And on youw be-”

“Okay, you definitely cannot take him with you with that kind of behavior,” Roman protested. “Just tell your parents the truth, Single Bell Twunk!” 

“You just made the same joke as Single Bell,” Virgil said. 

“It was a variation! Logan, you are a very dear friend to me, and I will not see your dignity and reputation spoiled by my rabid gremlin of a brother!”

“Don’t listen to him, Tech Weenie!” Remus scoffed, casually raising his foot to behind his head. “I sincerely, candidly, earnestly, unequivocally-- you like that last word? It’s a big word, turns you on doesn’t it-- promise to pretend to be your boyfriend for your one week visit to your parents, in an appropriate manner, so their hearts will not be torn to shreds. Rip my heart out, cross it, and-” he giggled, “-swear to die.” 

On that note, Logan needed a fake date to please his mother, and he supposed this would be a good opportunity for some bonding with Remus Reule. 

~

Nathaniel sipped some sparkling wine begrudgingly, as the others did not want him to get drunk the night before he drove Patton to the airport. He still drank it out of a wine glass though, because that’s exactly the kind of bitch he was. Nathaniel listened to the clinking of the kitchenware and the stream of water from the faucet as Patton washed the last of the dishes. Everyone else had headed off to their respective rooms, except for Roman, who stayed with Virgil. 

“Is it really a good idea?” Nathaniel heard Patton mumble from the kitchen. 

“What is?” 

Nathaniel saw Patton flinch a little, as if the latter wasn’t expecting someone to actually hear him. 

“Er, the plan with… Logan and… Remus…” Patton trailed off. 

Nathaniel hummed and took another sip of his drink. He savored the fizziness before swallowing, then went on to swirl the sparkling wine for fun. No, he totally wasn’t trying to buy more time so he could continue to stay in the room with Patton. That would be ridiculous. 

What was Patton concerned about again? Oh, right. 

“Logan can handle Remus alone for a week,” Nathaniel reassured. “Have you seen the man? Hardly anything disturbs him. He could find a corpse and go, ‘Oh someone was murdered here. That is normal. Better call the cops and assess the body for research. Bleep bloop.’” 

“Naaaaath, that’s not nice,” Patton berated, though Nathaniel could hear a smile in his voice. 

“I’m just saying, if anyone can stay with Remus for a week with no other company but their parents and not go crazy, that person would be Logan,” Nathaniel said.

"Although…" he continued, "I’m a little curious to see if there will be a sort of… romantic outcome, in the end. It is certainly a possibility.”

Both of the persons in the room knew the implications of what Nathaniel was talking about, but none bothered to voice the shared knowledge.

“If there is… it’ll be quite surprising,” Patton chuckled breathily. 

Nathaniel raised the glass to his lips only to find it empty, not to his dismay at all. He sighed and brought it over to Patton, who proceeded to wash it as well. Small “goodnight”s were exchanged between the two, and Nathaniel headed off to turn in.

“Oh boy,” Patton said to himself as he heard Nathaniel’s door close, “Logan’s gonna have an interesting week.”

~

Taglist: @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream: Satellite City

So we all know Nostalgia Critic’s review of The Wall, right? I even did a foul-mouthed review of it a while ago, one that had me so legitimately angry I posted it early under the Michael in the Mainstream label. One criticism in particular I had was the nature of the sequence parodying “The Trial,” in which what I thought were a bunch of weird furry OCs made for the video began to espouse poor criticisms and opinions of the film.

As it turns out… this was not the case. Those creatures are the creations of Sam Fennah, and are the stars of his series Satellite City. This review, while reviewing something a little too off the beaten path for me to necessarily call “mainstream,” is one I wanted to approach in a respectful manner as an apology for jumping the gun and being far too harsh on these creations, though this could have been avoided entirely if Doug Walker had made it more clear what, exactly, the cameo was. Regardless, the cameo did its job, and got me interested, and I will say that the series does show a lot of promise. It’s not over, nor is the first bit of the overarching story even complete, so think of this as my initial thoughts on what has been shown so far.

The show has a simple premise – Sam Fennah plays Sullivan, a very strange man who lives in a manor in rural England that is host to a crazy cast of alien refugees called Kivouachians. Hijinks frequently ensue as they go about their daily lives, though here “hijinks” means “Lucy Lacemaker decides to decapitate someone and recline on their headless corpse.” It’s certainly not a show for those with clean senses of humor, that’s for sure. Also, I know I don’t usually do summaries anymore, but I think this show needs it due to its relative obscurity.

It’s interesting watching through the show from when it began a couple years ago to today; you can see the animation on all of the aliens improving, as well as the voice acting. I have to say a lot of the animation in the earlier episodes was a bit stiff and unpolished, though certainly not bad, with it always being remarkable work for a small nonprofit indie project like this. On the other hand, the voice acting tended to be awkward and poorly done. Lucy especially had a pretty weak voice until much later, I believe around the 2018 episodes, when Rikki Leigh Tiffurelli took over and gave her the best voice to date. In the more recent episodes, though, the voice acting is much improved in general; frankly I find it hard to give too much flak to indie internet shows for having weak voice acting early on. I mean, Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series had some seriously weird delivery and voice acting for a while, with things only really kicking into high gear in the second season (in particular once Marik’s voice settled into what we all know and love). What I’m trying to say is that the series has found a nice place to settle into in terms of production quality, I feel, though of course seeing it improve would be great.

There is a bit of an overarching plot at the moment, involving the sinister Grand Voice Locket returning and some political strife among the aliens, all while Sullivan kind of just does his thing and curses up a storm. There also seems to be some interesting character stuff being built up with the genetically modified squirrel Hyzenthlay, but as of yet no character arcs have really culminated into anything yet, which is fine, no need to rush into it or anything. I think for now it’s fun to just spend time around the characters that are already here.

Which brings us to the best part of this show: the characters. Each character has a unique and creative design; hell, even if a lot of the base designs for the creatures seems to be “Dragon,” Fennah always manages to add some creative spice to them so as to not make them feel samey. And there are plenty of creative, unique designs, with Locket, Ludwig, Wexle, Fontaine, and of course Lucy standing out among the crowd. Speaking of Lucy, she is easily my favorite character, though I’m sure this is a rather uncontroversial opinion as she’s practically the face of the series at this point. She’s just so amusingly depraved and sadistic with light touches of civility and compassion here and there underneath her extremely harsh and psychotic exterior. Honestly, there’s not really a bad character that can be singled out yet, as each of them has something going on, and there’s a lot of lore detailed on the official website that fleshes things out and gives even more insight onto what the deal with these guys are.

Overall, I find myself enjoying this series so far. Most of the episodes are relatively short, with them ranging anywhere from forty seconds to twenty minutes, which is not too much of a time investment. If you like weird, offbeat, dark comedies with a focus on character development and plenty of strange sci-fi trappings, well, this is the web show for you. I’m seriously looking forward to where this show goes from here, and going forward it’s going to have my wholehearted support.

So yes. I am extremely sorry for the negative remarks I made towards Fennah’s work in my review of Doug’s review. I’ve never been happier to be wrong about a show in my life, and I really regret jumping the gun and bashing the work without context just because it was encased in a horrible review.

[bhandarimarblekishangarh]

We assure you of excellence in quality

From the shimmering aura of the Taj Mahal to the humble floor of your home’s bathroom, marble is one of the world’s most revered and useful natural materials. Marble is Michelangelo’s David, the Washington Monument, and the Duomo of Florence. It is also the primary ingredient in Tums antacid.

Tune into any kitchen design message board and you’ll encounter a sharp divide over the utility of marble. Some people wouldn’t dream of designing a kitchen without marble. Others decry that choice, citing marble’s imperfections and fragility. Many are caught somewhere in the middle: in love with marble’s irresistible appeal, but uncertain if it’s the right choice for their circumstance. In an attempt to create the “perfect” material, legions of synthetic products claim to look “just like marble,” but marble enthusiasts aren’t swayed. Few stones can match the warm glow, the softly flowing colors, the timelessness, and the authenticity of marble. There’s good reason this stone has been used for over 5,000 years.

A seabed, transformed

Marble is a metamorphic rock; it once was a different kind of rock, and was then transformed by a change of circumstance. Before marble becomes marble, it is first limestone, which forms on the shores and floors of tropical seas. Limestone is an accumulation of shells, shelly fragments, microscopically tiny shells, and dissolved shells. Depending on the conditions at a particular beach or sea, limestone’s shelly sediment may be punctuated with occasional layers of clay or lenses of sand. But by and large, limestone is an assortment of shell-remnants, which are made of the mineral calcite.

The tropical shoals that give rise to limestone do not stay peaceful indefinitely. Oceans are basically geologic conveyor belts. The ocean floor slowly spreads apart from the centre and slips underneath continents at the edges, gradually rearranging the map of the world.

When a limestone seabed gets dragged down into the Earth’s crust, the additional heat transforms the calcite grains and fuses them together tightly. The dynamic action of rock layers as they become buried, twisted, and shoved around causes the original flat-lying layers to bend, buckle, and swirl together. A rock in this heated state doesn’t melt. It’s simply warm and flexible, much like a chocolate bar left in your pocket. This process of heating and warping is responsible for marble’s trademark aesthetic of gracefully flowing bands of color. The grey swirls in marble are simply clay layers that got folded, smeared, and re-folded into the marble like a ribbon of chocolate infused throughout fudge ripple ice cream.

Patterns and color-ways give marble versatility and character

Part of what makes natural stone so appealing is the huge range of colors and variations expressed in solid rock. On one hand, these patterns tug on our heartstrings and offer aesthetic possibilities. On the other hand, each of these variations has its root in some sort of geologic process.

Most marble is white. The classic, white marble is pure calcite, without intervening minerals to lend it color. Yule and Thassos marbles are well-known examples of pristine white marbles. Marble can take on a delightful range of hues and textures. Pink marble is tinted by iron oxide, as is golden marble. Green marble and deep red marble contain serpentine, rich in magnesium. Fossil-rich limestone becomes graphite-infused marble, as the carbon in fish, algae, or seaweed reverts back to the elemental carbon in graphite when the rock is heated. Graphite-rich marble is steely grey with a metallic glimmer.

A marble breccia is formed when the stone fractures underground, which can happen if a stone lives in a fault zone. Mineral-laden groundwater comes to the rescue, filling in the voids and patching the fragments back into a solid mass, while creating a spectacular pattern at the same time. Arabescato is a beautiful example of a marble breccia.

It’s important to understand the properties of marble

The mineral content of marble is the same as the limestone it came from, and both of these stones are made of calcite, AKA calcium carbonate, AKA CaCO3. Calcite is one of the more common minerals on Earth’s surface; in addition to limestone and marble, calcite is the primary ingredient in travertine and onyx.

Calcite has a few properties that you should know about before you fall head over heels in love with a stunning marble slab. Calcite is 3 on Mohs hardness scale, which means it will get scratched by knife blades, ceramics, and a cast iron skillet accidentally slid across the kitchen island.

Calcite is also chemically reactive with common acids, such as those found in lemonade, wine, and colas. When acidic liquids land on a marble slab, a tiny amount of the stone is dissolved, or “etched.” This doesn’t affect the integrity of the stone, but it does leave a slight change in the color and/or lustre of the stone. On a polished stone, an etch looks like an unpolished area.

Etches can be polished out, or they can be left alone and considered part of the natural patina that marble will acquire over time.

Marble is ground up into antacid tablets because calcite neutralizes acid, which makes your stomach feel better. That also explains why acid makes a mark on marble. The marble reacts with the acid, neutralizing the acid, but damaging your countertop in the meantime. Ironically, when your teenager dribbles pickle juice on a brand-new countertop, you may find yourself reaching for the antacid, triggering the same chemical reaction both on the countertop and in your digestive tract.

The last piece of potentially bad news is that marble can form “star cracks” or “stun marks” if a heavy, hard object falls on it. Star cracks look like small, light-colored areas where the impact occurred. This is usually an aesthetic issue, not a structural one, but if an impact occurs at the edge of the stone, it can chip or flake.

A common misconception is that marble stains easily. However, this is actually quite rare. The metamorphism that bakes the stone also knits the minerals together tightly. Porosity for marble is similar for that of granite. That said, the porosity of all stones varies, so check the stone specs and do your own tests with a sample of stone. Marbles are typically sealed to reduce the likelihood of staining. Alas, sealing does not make marble any less prone to etching, I’m sorry to say.

Now you can see why some people love marble while others think that marble-lovers are crazy. To some, the nicks and etches on a marble surface add character and mark the passage of time in a busy household. To others, each blemish resonates as a personal loss. Which way do you see it? This is an important question to consider before you head to the slab yard. [Check your stone personality to see what stone suits your temperament.]

Marble with magnesium = Dolomite

Dolomitic marble is a close relative of regular marble. Standard marble is made of calcite (CaCO3), and dolomitic marble has a little magnesium in the mix (CaMgCO3). There is not a huge difference between the two variations, except that dolomitic marble is a little bit slower to etch. You’ll have a moment to wipe up a spill before the chemical reaction takes place.

Marble with quartz = Confusing

While marble is primarily made of calcite, it’s possible for the original limestone to have occasional layers of sand or chert (chert is a marine rock made of pure silica). These interlopers turn into areas of quartz as marble undergoes metamorphism. The end result is a stone that is mostly calcite with some quartz. This combination of ingredients has kicked off industry-wide confusion, because calcite and quartz have distinctly different properties but they look alike.

Unfortunately, marble that contains minor amounts of quartz is sometimes labelled “soft quartzite,” which is both an oxymoron and a misnomer.  There is no such thing as soft quartzite, and that term should be avoided by dealers, designers, and customers alike. Marble that contains small areas of quartz is still marble and should just be called marble. Super White is one well-known example of a mislabelled stone. Super White is a dolomitic marble with occasional bits of quartz. Super White is neither quartzite nor “soft quartzite.” It’s marble, and a gorgeous one at that. [Learn more about the quartzite/marble labelling problem in The Definitive Guide to Quartzite,

Limestone is sometimes classified as marble

The term “marble” is often applied broadly rather than literally. Many stone restoration professionals categorize marbles, limestones, and travertines together as a family of stone because they require similar maintenance and refinishing techniques. Polished limestone is sometimes called marble. While there’s not a huge difference between the two, marble is much denser and therefore is resistant to staining. If a slab has fossils, shell fragments, or has open pockets within the stone, it is limestone.

Many stones classified as black marble are actually black limestones. This is particularly true for dark colored stones with stark white veins, like China Black, Dynasty Brown, or Nero Portoro. Because marble has origins as a fluid, heated rock, its stripes and veins are usually soft, flowing, and curved rather than angular.

Many ways to bring marble into our lives

Marble remains a popular choice for countertops, backsplashes, bathrooms, tabletops, flooring, and cladding. Marble’s versatility makes it at home in an ancient Greek sculpture, in a lavish hotel lobby, or on a hardworking kitchen island. Marble also finds its way into our lives as household objects like cheese boards, rolling pins, vases, and lamps.

Despite the emergence of marble lookalikes, there’s nothing quite like the real thing. Real marble has qualities that cannot be replicated in a lab. I recently visited the 9/11 Memorial, a sobering space of monument, museum, and reflection. Next to the footprint of the fallen towers, rises the one part of the site that inspires optimism. Called the Oculus, it is part transit center, part shopping mall, and its soaring white ribs beckon investigation.

Visitors who step inside are rewarded with a vast, cathedral-like space, covered in pure white marble. The combination of natural light, natural stone, and creative architecture transform the sombre mood into a hopeful one. Wandering around the expansive structure, I finally put my finger on my favourite quality of real marble. Light penetrates into the white stone, then radiates back out in heavenly luminosity, filling the room with a warm, soft glow. Leave it to a stone like marble to completely alter the mood of a building. Marble has been a metaphor for worship, reverence, and beauty for millennia. Its ability to do that is all the more appreciated

Add by expert and Export team of Bhandari Marble World, India, Rajasthan, Kishangarh -305801

[meetthetank]

Peccatum Chapter 17: Denouement

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), 6O (NieR: Automata), 21O, Jackass (NieR: Automata), The Commander (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War, Chapter 13 is rated E

Adam stands on the beach just out of reach of the surf. His long, flowing white hair is pulled back with a crude tie to keep the sea breeze from blowing it into his face. Crimson eyes watch seabirds, rodents, felines, and canines scavenge the corpse of Grun, the child of the sea. Though his cold expression betrays no emotion, part of him feels that the demon deserved more than this. But it had failed in its task, and therefore must be recycled. Humans have their rituals and rites when it comes to the dead. Demons do not. It would be pointless anyway, since the fallen would simply be rebuilt or repurposed.

A lone councilor staring at a demon corpse in the dead of night would be suspicious, were anyone around to see him. The humans were busy indulging themselves, though, celebrating their victory. There wouldn’t be a human left not inebriated or seeking pleasures of the flesh. Besides, Eve was not far away. His simple brother would leap into action the moment something went awry.

Though...it might take him a bit longer than normal, seeing as how he is currently rooting around in Grun’s stomach.

It’s vile work, but necessary. To rebuild a demon in a similar way, or to pull the valuable memories of combat from their minds, the core is needed. Grun’s core especially holds great value. The memories of a demon that old and one that was separated from the Terminals are truly unique among their kind.

Grun’s open throat shifts and shudders, then gives way to reveal Eve, naked and covered in viscera. He bounds over to Adam with a wide, childlike smile on his face.

“Brother! I found it!”

He wades through the surf and presents an irregularly shaped crystal no bigger than an apple that glows with a soft, deep blue light.

“Excellent work, Eve,” Adam says, taking the Core and beginning to clean the rotting flesh from it. “Go rinse off now.”

Eve huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “Do I have to, Brother? The ocean is so cold at night…”

“Yes,” Adam snaps, but keeps his tone soft so as not to upset Eve. “What would the people think if they saw you like this?”

“I guess they’d be scared…” Eve mutters, his brows pulling together as he thinks. “Okaaaay, I’ll go I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

Adam sighs. His “brother” had his uses, but he was a simple creature. He was unmatched in combat, but when it came to behavior and etiquette he had the attitude of a human child. Fortunately he stayed silent during most interactions with the human’s governments, which allowed Adam to show his own strengths. Eloquent language and half truths were his weapons of war, and up until today they had never failed.

Idly, he turns the Core over in his hands, feeling its strange irregularities dig into the soft flesh of his palm. Cores of this nature are rare. They’re supposed to be perfectly round and free of blemishes, accentuating uniformity among the Demon Hierarchy. However, the more a demon deviates, the more deformities spread across its surface. Grun’s core is barely recognizable as one, looking more like a lump of unpolished crystal instead. Countless untold experiences of a demon who lived alone for centuries at the bottom of the ocean lie within, and Adam can’t suppress intense jealousy for whoever gets to unearth them. The centuries of memories are priceless to a relatively new creation like himself.

“I can’t believe the humans actually did it,” Eve says, lazily pulling on a set of dry clothes.

His brother’s statement causes Adam to grit his teeth. Admitting that the Apes managed to defeat his carefully deployed troop of flying demons is a blow to his pride he did not expect. He maintains his composure in front of Eve, but the internal fury burns within him, as it does with all demons. Though Homunculi like himself and his brother are designed to lead humans astray with deception and cunning, he laments his restrictive position and longs to face them in a real fight.

At least in this case he can attribute the Ape’s victory to their new weapon and their unforseen ally.

“It seems we may have underestimated them, and their Equalizer. Even so, the human’s suffered great losses today. Even with their...dragon.” Adam muses, his gaze lost in the core, “They celebrate and believe all will be well,” he chuckles darkly, “They will return to the city completely unaware of what is to come.”

“Grun did break a lot ships…” Eve stares up at the sky, oblivious to Adam’s ramblings, “But, why are they celebrating if so many of their soldiers died?”

Adam hums to himself as he wraps the core in a thick cloth, “Perhaps they are celebrating as a way of honoring the dead.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, brother.”

He laughs a little and ruffles the short white hair of his twin, “Humans are strange and fascinating creatures, Eve. One day we will dissect them and reveal their mysteries.”

“And then can we play?”

“Yes, Eve. Then we can play.”

“Three ...two...one ...HEAVE!!”

11S’ cry rings out across the beach. At his command, 9S, 801S, and 42S all pull on long hooked poles with all of their might. The steaming piles of flesh slough off of Grun’s corpse, splashing into the surf and spraying the scouts with congealed blood and seawater. They grimace and groan but do not gag, as they are already covered with gore and soaked to the bone. The morning sun does little to warm their shivering bodies.

“Ugh…” 801S moans, “This thing isn’t gonna budge. Why the hell are we doing this!?”

“Cause Jackass told us to.” 11S grumbles.

“Jackass was drunk, asshole.” 801S snaps, “She tells us to do all kinds of shit when she’s been drinking. Remember when she told us all to drain that lake? Or collect all the brown rocks in camp?”

Silence passes between the scouts as they take a moment to reflect on the futility of hauling a multi-ton rotting demon out of the ocean.

“So,” 9S says, “I don’t know about you guys, but my stitches broke again and I don’t want to keep doing this.”

“Agreed,” the other scouts respond and toss their hooks into the sand.

9S tenderly peels off his coat and sets it on a nearby log of driftwood. Sure enough there are little specks of blood on his undershirt in a fine line across his chest. He sighs, knowing the verbal beating 6O is going to give him later.

“Did the sewing break again?”

He whips his head around to find 2B, her head tilted curiously as she stares down at him.

“Stitches,” he corrects, “and yeah. I guess this stupid errend Jackass sent us on was too strenuous.”

“We told you to sit this one out!!” 801S shouts from further down the shoreline.

9S waves off 801S with a low huff before turning back to 2B, “I’m fine, it just stings a bit...11S went to go get 6O, but it’ll be a while before they get here.”

He sighs and unbuttons his undershirt, hissing as the fabric brushes across the tender skin around his wounds. Looking down at his chest he sees that they are irritated and slightly red, a sure sign of oncoming infection. With a small cloth he begins to dab away the trails of blood.

“Here.” 2B says, moving his hand away from his body and kneeling down in front of him.

“Huh? What are you- Gah!” 9S yelps and jerks himself back, almost falling off of the log, the second 2B’s tongue makes contact with his skin. “What was that?!”

“Hold still,” she commands. “Coatyl saliva has minor healing properties,” She holds his gaze for a moment, then averts her eyes shamefully, “I’m sorry. Did I overstep?”

“I-....” He wants to object, but some lewd section of his mind holds him in place. “...No, you’re fine. It’s...different. Go ahead.”

With a quick nod, 2B lowers herself back down to his chest. She licks around the outside of his wound, careful not to disturb the more inflamed portions. A slight tingle spreads across where her tongue trails. Right before his eyes, the angry swelling begins to dissipate and the slight ache fades away. It doesn’t totally heal the wound, not like 6O’s magic, but it does make it a little more comfortable. He figures her saliva might be some kind of disinfectant rather than magic, but with this woman anything is possible.

9S leans back a little, sighing with relief. However it’s when 2B shifts ever so slightly between his legs that he becomes acutely aware of where she is and what she’s doing. His shoulders tense and he inhales sharply. Suddenly it feels like his body is on fire, and even the smallest movement from 2B sends shivers down his spine. He runs his hand through 2B’s hair, feeling the soft, downy feathers hidden beneath. In return, she gazes up at him with curious blue eyes that makes his heart stop for a split second.

Something pulls at the back of his mind as he holds 2B’s gaze, something that starts out formless but turns into words. Commands, instructions, suggestions. They start to flow from his mind and pour into 2B’s when 9S catches himself. He blinks furiously, forcing those thoughts from his head. 2B shakes her head as well, clearing the hazy, slightly gold tinged, look in her eyes.

What did he…just do?

“Wow, Nines. That’s a reeeeal scary bear, huh?” 801S jeers with a wide smirk plastered across his face.

“S-Shut up!!” 9S yelps and hastily scrambles away from 2B, who looks back and forth between him and the scouts with a slightly annoyed expression.

“So ferocious,” 11S says, making mock claws with his hands, “Careful 9S, it might maul you again!”

9S’ face flushes red as he fumbles with his undershirt and coat. All the while, 2B seems nonplussed at the scout’s teasing. For a moment he’s confused, but then he recalls the conversation they had just before their “encounter” in the woods. At first he thinks its because she has no shame, but it seems more along the lines of cultural difference.

He sighs, pulling on his coat. He couldn't be too mad at them, for now at least. After all that’s happened, he could let them poke fun at an easy target.

“Oi! OI!” Jackass slurs, standing on a wobbling table that barely supports her weight, “Listen up! I’m making a speech!!”

The tavern full of soldiers and workers miraculously quiet down. 9S, the other scouts, 21O, 6O, and even 2B gather around the table Jackass stands on, setting their pints of ale elsewhere so she wouldn’t knock them over in her half-drunk stumbling.

“I cannot begin to tell you guys how amazing you are,” Jackass begins, swinging her arms wide and spilling ale over unsuspecting spectators, “We did the impossible. A bunch of nobodies went and blew up the biggest demon ever recorded!”

Cheers and the clanking of steins echo throughout the tavern before Jackass motions for them to quiet down once more.

“Without all of your hard work, this town would be fuckin’ underwater or covered in demon shit or whatever,” she pauses to take a long drink from her stein, “Without y’all, there wouldn’t be anyone to sit here and listen to me scream about how fucking cool that fight went. Sure, we lost a lot of good folk,” another pause as everyone bows their heads in a brief silence to honor the fallen, “Hell, without all of you I wouldn’t be standing up here in the first place. I give you guys a ration of shit all the time, but in all the honesty I have in my shriveled up husk of a heart, you deserve to go fucking wild!”

The tavern erupts with cheers once again. Jackass throws her arms out wide and cheers along with them spilling more ale and almost making herself lose her balance.

“And- Shut up!” she shouts. “And! White turned in early for the night! So no rules!”

A drunken soldier gets up next to Jackass, face already red as a beet. “LET’S START A FIRE!”

“There’s one rule!” Jackass hastily amends and shoved the soldier off of her pedestal.

2B fails to suppress a giggle as the scouts around her break into laughter. She had only had a few sips of her tankard but she already feels lightheaded and warm all over. 9S had told her what exactly she was drinking but she doesn’t remember right now, nor does she care. It makes her feel good, so she goes in for another sip.

Though alcohol is nothing new to her, she’s never had something this strong. Back home eating large quantities of fermented fruit would bring on a similar but not as intense feeling, and even then it would take a lot. The only time she had any was a few times in her youth and her sibling’s betrothal celebrations. Technically she shouldn’t be having any now due to her apprenticeship, but…

Oh yeah, she left and can’t come back. So she’s no longer an apprentice anyway. That’s why she let 9S put this tankard of...something...in her hand. Whatever it was that humans drank, it certainly put fermented fruits to shame.

The scouts beside her distribute small cups to each other and fill them with a little bit of a sharp smelling liquid. 11S puts one in her hand with a grin, “Come on, you’re part of the gang. By association anyway.”

The scent of the amber fluid burns the inside of her nose, making her recoil from it. Even so, she follows along with 9S and the rest of the scouts as they hold their glasses up above the middle of the table. 9S gives her a comforting smile, but it doesn’t mask the sadness lurking behind it.

“To 32S,” 801S says solemnly and gestures to the empty chair beside him. “May the gods rest his soul.”

“To 32S,” the others and 2B repeat, bowing their heads.

They tap their glasses on the table twice. 2B mimicks them up until they all throw their heads back and gulp down the foul smelling fluid. She hesitated for a moment, then brings the cup up to her lips and takes a sip. The second the bitter drink touches her tongue she almost gags, but holds herself together with a grimace and a shiver.

“Oi! Don’t sip it,” 11S explains. “Open your throat and down it all at once.”

“Yeah, like this!” 42S pours himself another cup and tilts his head back in the same way as before. The boy doesn’t even flinch, just smiles broadly and presents his empty cup to the group.

2B takes a deep breath, then throws her head back and nearly launches the cup up to her lips. The drink burns as she swallows the lot of it, but it feels strangely warm in her stomach. She’s able to savor the unique oaky flavor of it before her world begins to blur even further. The warmth of the drink spreads from her gut, to her face, and out to her fingers.

“Whoa…” she mutters, wiggling her rapidly numbing fingers in front of her face.

“Ooohh boy, here we go,” 801S laughs.

9S puts his hand on her shoulder to steady her, “Easy there 2B,” his voice is laced with concern but she can see the grin just beneath, “I think that’s enough alcohol for you.”

“N...nuh,” she grumbles, waving her hand in his face. “M’ fine.”

The scouts chat amongst themselves about something that can’t hold 2B’s attention. Her eyes drift around the tavern. Her instincts tell her to scan for danger, though there’s nothing dangerous here except the rowdy drunken soldiers. She spots 6O off to the side of the main mass of people, practically draped across 21O who turns redder and redder the more 6O says. Meanwhile, in stark contrast to minutes earlier, Jackass sits in a lonely corner, surveying her handiwork with a cold gaze and a second tankard beside hers.

2B isn’t sure how long she had been sitting at the table, staring into the crowd, but a quiet sniffling next to her breaks her out of her alcohol induced daze. She looks down to see 9S rubbing his face with the back of his hand as he quietly sobs into a tankard of ale.

“Wh?” she mutters. “Wh’s wrong?”

“H-...I couldn’t...I should’ve…” 9S slurs before taking another drink. “I could’ve saved ‘m….”

“Who?”

“Thr-...2S…” he hiccups. “32S…”

“Oh…”

“He was right there…” Tears begin to stream down his face. “I could’ve done something but I just sat there. I was so useless...He died ‘cause of me…”

“No, the demons got him,” 2B mumbles. “You didn’t kill him.”

“But I didn’t save him!” he moans. “I was so helpless! I just laid there on the floor while he-...he…”

9S buries his face in his hands and sobs quietly. “He got taken...and I just sat there….”

She clumsily puts her hand on his head and runs her fingers through his hair with all the grace of a lame cow. “You did what you could... “

“Did I? What if I could have done more… What if-...” He can’t finish his thoughts as another wave of intense sobs wrack his body.

“It’s okay…” 2B mutters, putting her arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay…”

“2B…” He looks up at her with tear filled eyes. “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s okay for me to...keep going-”

“Shh, shut up.” 2B shoves her hand into his face. “Don’t blame yourself for that, you did everything you could.”

His brows knit together as he studies her face. She sways back and forth with a glazed look in her eyes. “....Are you drunk?”

“No I’m-” She tries to hold back a damning hiccup, but the pressure inside her chest turns it into a small burp. “I’m fine.”

9S’ face scrunches up. “Ugh, your breath says otherwise…”

“Dragons cannot get dr-” Another hiccup. “Drunk...I am an apprentice of temperance and...something something…. No indulgence for me, no sir.” She grumbles her half remembered creed with a lazy roll of her hand.

“What kind of apprentice has to abstain from ‘indulgences’?” 9S asks, slyly moving 2B’s tankard away from her.

“I was ah-..uuh...Ex…” She hiccups again. “Ex-....” She becomes distracted by 9S and her eyes glaze over. All thoughts leaves her mind as she becomes lost in his boyish face. “...You’re...cute.”

9S giggles and playfully taps 2B’s nose. “I know. You’ve told me before.”

2B huffs, but doesn’t resist when 9S practically flops on her lap. He looks out to the thinning crowd of soldiers and civilians as they continue to sing and drink with each other.

“You know...this is the happiest I’ve seen everyone in a while...It’s nice.” He looks up at 2B who hums in agreement, and continues to comb her claws through his hair. “I’m...I’m glad you’re here to share this with us...with me.”

“Yeah…” 2B mutters, a smile beginning to form. “I’m glad, too.”

Though the party itself was beginning to die down, 2B and 9S simply sat together in silence, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet with each other.

It would turn out to be their last for a long, long time.

[fulltimeviking]

Hoppípolla

Summary: Hiccup is a semi-stressed out chief and Nuffink is just a hyper active ball of energy wanting to play in some rain puddles with his Dad - Takes place a year before the epilogue in httyd 3 and is based off of a Sigur Rós song. 

Imma be real with you chief - this is 100% unapologetic fluff, written purely for the reason that I just needed some more fluffy fics about the Haddock family in my life and decided to provide some myself no matter how badly written or rusty my fanfic writing skills are 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also forgive me if it seems a bit unpolished or kind of rushed, I’ve been trying to get this done for weeks and yesterday I finally put my foot down and decided I was going to finish it this week, and I managed to wrap it all up this evening. I’m also lowkey drugged up on medication atm so I wrote the last paragraph and edited the entire thing through half lidded eyes, so if you see a spelling mistake, that’s probably why. 

Anyway I could make up excuses about my writing and keep putting off posting this all day but I’m going to stfu now - I hope you like it!

“So you have all the plans? Nothing else you need or-” “I’ve got everything I need to start right here” Fishlegs patted the scrolls “I promise you’ve got nothing to worry about chief, I’ve got it all under control” “right” Hiccup sighed a little, another weight off his shoulders “great, thank you”. 

A passing storm had done some wreckage to a few houses and whatnot and everyone else had been preoccupied with their own reconstructions, the chief being left with the bulk of it all, but his council members had been willing to help out and for that he couldn’t be more grateful.

Nuffink was sat down fidgeting with the hem of his oversized tunic, swinging his legs on a chair ten times too big for him in the Ingerman’s living room, it wasn’t an anomaly for the chief and chieftess to bring the kids on errands with them and at this point Zephyr and Nuffink were fully accustomed to it. That didn’t stop them from being boring sometimes though, especially when the rain had calmed down and there were over a hundred puddles outside with his name on them. “Nuffink?�� Hiccup called from the door “we’re done now!” the little boy perked up and slid down from the seat, running to the to meet his father who picked him up and rested him on his hip “now what do we say?” he asked him as they stepped outside. Nuffink looked blank for a second “umm- oh, thank you for letting me sit in your house Uncle Fishlegs”

“Awwww the pleasure is all mine little guy” Fishlegs cooed “you’re welcome round any time” “thank you again” Hiccup said “they just grow up so fast don’t they?” the ingerman carried on “Little kids, I swear he was getting carried around like a baby not that long ago” he said a little tearily “… you okay there?” “yep!” he answered too quickly and rubbed at his eyes “it’s the humidity… because of the rain, and allergy seasons coming...  makes my eyes misty” he shuffled awkwardly for a second before quickly turning on his heel and going back inside “see you around chief!” he didn’t wait for a response as he shut the front door hastily behind him.

“Well” Hiccup looked at his son with a smile and Nuffink showed off his own toothy little grin “guess we’re heading home now bud” Hiccup moved to start walking down the steps but Nuffink wriggled around in protest “I want to walk!” he insisted “okay okay” his dad chuckled and put him down “hold my hand while we walk down the stairs though, yeah?” he offered his hand and Nuffink instinctively took hold of it - just one of the upsides to having such a cuddly child “don’t want you to faceplant in the floor again” Hiccup mumbled under his breath cringing a little at the memory - stairs had never been such a menace.

He kept his eye on his son as they walked carefully down the slippery stone steps, the little boy walking one at a time and looking intently at the big rain puddle at the bottom. Hiccup grinned “big step down here buddy, you’ll have to jump!” Nuffink’s face lit up instantly and Hiccup kept hold of his hand, helping him jump up a little higher so he splashed down hard into the puddle, making him giggle in delight. He let go of his father’s hand and ran ahead, splashing around in all the massive rain puddles the small storm had left behind, the actual rain now just mere droplets so he didn’t need to worry about the boy catching a cold.

The two stayed that way for a while, Nuffink running ahead and splashing in all the puddles before him, his dad not too far behind with a small smile on his face that he couldn’t contain.

Maybe it was just because he was still a relatively new parent, only 5 years in the game and whatnot - but Nuffink although a little quiet, was an adventurous and turbulent kid, and seeing his offspring so joyful and carefree made him ridiculously happy. “Daddy!” the 3 year old snapped him from his thoughts and tugged on his sleeve, pulling him as best as he could towards the small pools of water ahead of them “oh no, no can do buddy” Hiccup pulled back a little and laughed awkwardly - he always tried to deny it when his wife, or his friends, or his village accused it of being so, but he had to admit he really hated to say no to either of his children.

Nuffink cocked his eyebrow, puzzled “why?”

“Because I could hurt myself”

“Why?”

Hiccup knelt down to his level and pointed at his prosthetic “because of my leg, you know my fake leg?” Nuffink nodded knowingly “It’s metal see” Hiccup gave it a knock to prove his point “so it makes it easier for me to slip-” “I won’t let you slip!” he insisted and took a tight hold of his father’s hand, pulling him along. The chief nearly fell forward on his face but caught himself last minute, walking hunched over at a low level as his youngest child dragged him onwards “I’ll hold your hand daddy and you won’t fall!” “Nuffink!” Hiccup tried to sound firm but laughed heartily instead, great job Hiccup, very disciplinary, he thought. Without warning the toddler gave him another tug and pulled his father into one of the multiple shallow puddles on their path home. Before his dad could get in a word of protest Nuffink grabbed at his free hand, jumping up and down. Hiccup sighed, though truthfully he had no intention of not indulging him, he took a slightly tighter hold of his hands as he raised him up and let him drop back down with an almighty splash “Again!” his son kept demanding eagerly grinning “Okay! Up again!” Hiccup obliged everytime and lifted him up. One time he lifted him with a bit more gusto, and dropped him down hard sending water up in both their faces making Nuffink laugh and wipe at his face with his hands.

Hiccup forgot that it was his son that was the small support that kept him in one place as he took a step forward, accidentally placed his prosthetic on a small rock in the floor and slipped, landing on his backside in the water cursing and making his son laugh even harder. “Oh it’s funny is it? my pain is funny to you?” He joked as he moved onto his knees and Nuffink giggled “it is?!” Hiccup said in pretend shock and the young boy shrieked in laughter “oh my gods, of all people, my own son!” he dramatised “the betrayal!”

Nuffink pulled at his arm “stoooppp” he whined guiltily “I’m sorry” “Buddy I’m just joking” He smiled reassuringly and ruffled the boys dampened hair “okay” his son was unable to hide the mischievous smirk on his face before completely splashing his father in the face and running off “what- you tricked me!” Hiccup said in disbelief, albeit a little impressed. Oh yeah, he’s his mother’s son. He gathered himself and set off in a careful run so he wouldn’t slip, and tried to catch up to him, the two laughing ridiculously. They carried on like that for what felt like nowhere near enough time, messing around in the rain puddles, Hiccup enjoying it almost as much as his son, but more because he was spending time with his child and less because he enjoyed getting splashed in the face with cold water.

Every time there was a long puddle Nuffink ran straight at it and went sliding on his tummy, his dad only a pace behind him ready to help him up so the little boy could set off looking for more. Whenever Hiccup thought he was going to slip and fall again he’d slide to the ground on his knees before his prosthetic got its chance, Nuffink took to habit of using this opportunity to kick a bit of water at him and even though it barely reached him, Hiccup would act appalled, get up and catch him by his arms and swing him around, his boots skimming the water on the ground and the boy screaming in delight.

His father couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of his face, it’d probably been the most relaxed  and happy he’d felt in a while - although the storm was passing, it was a big one and probably wouldn’t die out for another few days or so if the elder was right, and she was always right. The thought gave the young chief a migraine, he hated to admit it, it felt like admitting defeat in a way, but the workload seemed to pile up easy for him so easy these days and he’d be lying if he said it never got on top of him.

Then ironically enough, it was the thing that should have been one of the most stress-inducing things that turned out to be a source of relief. Zephyr and Nuffink. Not even just playing, but spending time with and being around his children made him feel like he himself was a young boy - spending time with his own father… it dwindled as he got older, the war between dragon and viking taking its toll. They grew apart. From the minute Hiccup found out he was going to become a father with his first he had had been slightly fearful of history repeating itself, but hearing his youngest laugh and watching him look up at him with those familiar green eyes made him 100% certain of one thing. He would never let that happen, not in a million years.

He shook his head and scoffed at himself. Thor almighty, he was turning way too soft.

The wind started to pick up - it blew by not too bad but enough to make Hiccup and the boy shiver in their drenched clothes. Hiccup looked up at the sky and saw the storm clouds getting darker, covering up the what would’ve been a nice sunset. He grimaced, more bad weather meant more damage to occur and more work to be done, though the toddler’s sniffling snapped him back to his current situation. Nuffink’s clothes were entirely soaked through, his boots making funny sounding squelching noises as he walked and his long-ish blonde hair hung dripping down his face.

Hiccup stopped and knelt down to try sort him out a bit, he brushed his hair back with his fingers so it didn’t hang over his eyes and tried to wring out the bottom of his tunic best he could without taking it off him and making the poor bugger shiver any more then he was.

Nuffink wasn’t one to complain too much, he was a relatively well behaved child, but the look of discomfort on his face at being wet and cold was unmistakable, the puddles suddenly seeming a lot less appealing then his warm comfortable house. “I think we better hurry on home now bud” his dad noted as the rain started again. Hiccup took off the fur chiefs cloak he wore and wrapped it snug around Nuffink before picking him up to carry him -  it was so big on him it hung down by such a margin that if you looked from a distance you would think he were carrying a baby “better not catch a cold eh?”

The chief picked up the pace, sticking to the dry bits of grass as the rain picked up and came down heavier, fortunately the bulk of the storm only kicking in once they finally entered the Haddock household.

Zephyr was sat at the table, drawing something in one of her many little notebooks, whilst Astrid tended to dinner, which by the look of their seemingly clean little kitchen area, must have been prepared by somebody else (thank odin). The boys presence became known when Hiccup shut the door behind him hastily before any rain could fly in, Zephyr looked up from her drawing and laughed a little at the sight of them “aha! Momma look! They’re all wet!” the girls mother turned around and stared a little

Astrid stood back, taking in the sopping wet mess before her, hands on her hips looking them both up in down in question “what in Thor’s name have you two been doing?” Nuffink tugged on one of his dad’s braids as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his shoulder, tired from his days ventures. Hiccup looked at Astrid with a daft grin “puddle hopping”.