#there's some tropes that i think are over used but fuck I'll read those too lol

[thornsnvultures]

Fic ask game: G, S, and T 💚

Just answered G & T here!

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Mob au. Biker/racing au. ABO/Werewolf au. Idiots to lovers is a big one lol and fix it fics! I like when, for the most part, everyone's happy and healthy lol

fanfic ask game

[strongheartneteyam]

[ all credits of the Neteyam pic go to the incredibly talented @cinetrix ♡]

Champagne Problems

Part 2

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: neteyam is a simp for reader, black cat gf/golden retriever bf "trope", a whole lot of angst, beach party, use of alcohol, some romantic comedy vibes, neteyam acting a bit cocky lol, reader is a tiny bit of a meanie towards neteyam, sexual language, sexual content, reader is a bit antisocial, flirting, emotionally unavailable bc of trauma reader, unrequited love (neteyam is the one having the unrequited feelings), sexual tension, commitment issues, exophilia, size kink, interspecies relationship, bad words. Hit me up to lemme know if I forgot something ahaha

Reader is slightly older than Neteyam, for only 2 years.

Neteyam and Reader (AI Art)

Do you guys remember the story inspired by Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift that I promised like ages ago? Well... The first part is here? 🤓 A lot of people seemed to be excited to read this when I posted that sneak peak. Hope you guys like it! kiss kiss 💗

Slightly proofread.

Part 1 : Say Yes to Heaven

𓇼

If you dance, I'll dance

And if you don't, I'll dance anyway

Give peace a chance

Let the fear you have fall away

I've got my eye on you

(...)

Say yes to Heaven, say yes to me

Say Yes To Heaven (Lana Del Rey)

𓇼

"It's not like you're not gonna break me in half if we try to get down and dirty." You laugh a bit too much, the alcohol invading your brain slowly, making you care less and less about behaving in a "socially acceptable" way. Though you wondered if your not-a-bit-elegant-honesty mattered at all to Neteyam Sully, the na'vi boy sitting in the maroon leather couch, by your side, his huge size making the couch look ridiculously small. He was na'vi, after all. Totally different culture. The na'vi were way more upfront about their real thoughts and feelings.

Neteyam had been talking loudly, almost yelling, at your ear for the past 40 minutes, trying to make his voice sound louder than the party's music, so you could hear him try to convince you to hook up with him. As if the loud uplifting songs that echoed in the salty air of that Metkayina beach were not enough to bug your tired head, now you had Neteyam helping your headache get worse.

"That doesn't mean you can't let me take you home. Or even let me make you my mate, eventually, if we end up falling in love while we fuck under the starry sky. You might like laying with me in my hammock and letting me pleasure you more than you think. Maybe you'll want to be my girl once you get a taste of this na'vi spice" He was joking around with you while flirting.

His thick, muscular but still fleshy thighs were spread on the sofa way too much to your liking. It was almost like he was trying to show you how masculine or desirable - some bullshit like that - he was. You know, that kind of thing a lot of guys usually do when trying to seduce you.

You knew Neteyam was aware he was handsome, that his body was attractive. He had always had girls - na'vi and human - all over him since he was a teen, drooling over his beauty.

But if he thought his loverboy flirting that must have worked so easily with just way too many girls before was gonna work that easily with you, he was mistaken.

Okay, you had to admit he was being pretty insistent, though. Neteyam had been there for almost an hour already. You did not understand what was making him insist that much on you if you had an armor as impenetrable as the one of a human warrior of the Middle Ages, back on Earth. And those armors were really hard to get under.

"Listen" you took a last big sip of your champagne and put the glass cup on the wooden table next to the sofa "When you gonna give up, honey? It's not gonna work. I'm not hooking up with you." You looked him in the eyes.

Goddamn, were his orbs big compared to the ones of a human. 

They were beautiful, though.

Damn, (y/n)! Focus, girl!

"I'm known among my people for being disciplined, focused and getting what I want because I fight hard for it. You're my focus now, tawtute." (human) I'm not giving up on you. You're like my Ikran. You're wild and hard to get but I'll conquer you, sevin tawtute." (pretty human) "On the first try."

"Cocky much?" You smirked and shook your head in disapproval "No, but, seriously, Neteyam, are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten about tsaheylu? I don't have a neurological queue, babe. I know I have many braids in my hair," You pointed out your hairstyle "but they're all regular human braids. None of them have little tendrils on its tip. Sorry, Neteyam. We're Romeo and Juliet. And Juliet doesn't even love Romeo in this story. You're deemed to heartbreak." You said, like you could not care less about his attempts to win you over, sipping on your sparkling champagne, that went down your throat comfortably, making you feel cozy and safe. It wasn't gonna work, anyway.

You liked champagne a bit too much... you had to admit it was very possible that you had a bit of a drinking problem. Alcohol made you feel warm inside. In an emotional way too. It felt like someone was hugging you, when you would not let many real people hug you because you just were not exactly enthusiastic about having physical contact with just anyone. You only let your closest friends and some family members, like your little sister, hug you. 

Some people would often call you "cold" and say that you acted "like a queen, above everyone else", behind your back, but that could not be further from the truth. You actually hated how low your actual self steem was.

"Why don't you look at Munì?" You mentioned the curvy, tall, blue eyed Metkayina girl who clearly had a mad crush on Neteyam. She was incredibly pretty. Nobody could deny that. "She has been drooling over you ever since you got here. Give the poor girl a chance. She's such a cutie. If I liked girls, I'd easily do her. Look at those beautiful, long, toned legs. Look at her wide hips. Damn, she's yummy!" you were drinking too much, your honesty getting way too out there.

"I don't want her. I want you." He spoke, like he really meant it. "My hammock will be hanged between those two big trees you like to collect fruits from. I'll be waiting for you, if you want to meet me."

With that last line being said, Neteyam got up from the sofa and walked away, swiftly finding his younger brother Lo'ak and tapping on his back, like men usually do. Both brothers started what looked like an interesting conversation.

You were left alone wondering how Neteyam could say those words and walk away so nonchalantly. 

"Phew! I thought he'd never leave, girlie." Adeline screamed, coming closer to you.

She was your best friend. You guys knew way too much about each other, but that only drove you closer and made you two have a beautiful bond that felt unbreakable. She was one of the few people in the world you trusted with many of your secrets. But not even she knew everything about you. Yes, talk about trust issues…

"God, I was about to call his sister to take him away! Kiri is much more chill and quiet compared to her siblings. She's a sweetheart." You said, finally letting your guard down and being able to relax your body language, laying back on the couch and resting your bare feet on the wooden dark brown table in front of you

𓇼

You cursed yourself while you walked towards Neteyam's big light brown hammock, hanged between two big beautiful trees that reminded you of the Palm Trees that used to exist on Planet Earth.

Why were you doing that, anyway?

"Tawtute! You came." Neteyam smiled, relief all over his face 

You sighed.

"Yeah, but I'm still wondering why I did."

"Ouch!" He put his huge four fingered hand on his chest and frowned, like he was in pain

You rolled your eyes at him.

"Stop that, silly." Crossing your arms, you walked towards the big tropical tree in front of his hammock but still a little far

"Hey! Where are you going?" Neteyam almost screamed as you were already further away from him than you should be if you were actually gonna have sex with him

It was like you were running away from and showing up to the "job" at the same time. Go figure out.

You rested your back against that large tree, feeling the rough edges of the wood harassing your skin.

Neteyam was already almost there where you were. His long na'vi legs helped him walk faster than you anticipated.

Neteyam got next to you. You felt a little fear but a bit of excitement, simultaneously, when you realized your head only reached his hip.

Fuck, he was a giant next to you… why the hell did that turn you on?

"Are you afraid of me, yawntutsyìp?" (little loved one) Neteyam said in a lewd, low voice as you looked at him, feeling like a pathetic little ant looking up at a human

Was that how ants felt?

"No, silly, I'm not." You looked away from him and tried to focus on the way the eclipse had beautiful violet and blue tones

That almost worked. If it wasn't for Neteyam using his huge alien hand to stroke your hair softly.

"You're so pretty, tawtute." You could feel his gaze directed at you, you could feel his heat burning your skin. The desire he felt for you was almost freaking tangible. 

You kept your eyes on the stars.

"You're not gonna look at me, yawntutsyìp? Lemme see those pretty eyes, hmm?" Fuck, he was turning you on so much, your pussy felt good already and there was a tight knot forming in your lower belly. How did he do that to you with so little effort?

You looked up at Neteyam's face, your neck hurting. You did not expect to see a big bulge under his navy blue loincloth, though. Neteyam was so huge you could not help staring and your face totally betrayed your surprise.

"C'mon, I wanna feel your tiny body on mine." He paused and his big blue hand traced your collarbone and your shoulders "You're so small, tawtute… Hmmm…" he let out something between a moan and a growl "So soft too." Neteyam squeezed your arm, feeling your soft human flesh against his slender fingers "I love how different from na'vi girls you are. I'm so lucky to have you all to myself tonight."

Your breath was now labored and your pussy was soaked. Your poor panties were all wet.

"I'm dying to squeeze those titties. They look incredibly soft. But I won't do anything that intimate before you say "yes" first, yawntutsyìp."

•

Taglist:

@yeosxxx (u asked to be tagged in all my writings so I'm tagging u here hehe)

Comments are very welcome. I love all of you who take time to read my writings ♡ Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart. If you wanna be added to the taglist, just leave a comment down below <3

[pastafossa]

Happy Birthday and a merry 6 years to TRT! 🎂 🎁 🎈 🎉 🍰

🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯

Some FUN TRIVIA FACTS:

TRT's sun sign is VIRGO and its moon sign is LEO!

After 6 years, its current wordcount is 932k words. If you put that in size 12 arial font, single-spaced, this would come to about 2000 pages, and even more if the pages were the usual mass market paperback size!

TRT is now 40 in cat years!

The Man in the White Coat is my tribute to the Mad Scientist trope common in scifi, which is one of my favorite genres!

It is old enough developmentally to tie its shoes! Keep going, TRT!

Ciro is partially inspired by John Marcone from The Dresden Files!

TRT shares a birthday with literary great Agatha Christie! Maybe I'll introduce poison-based murder into the fic in her honor...

The idea of seeing threads came to me after seeing a meme about red threads tying soul mates together. Everything that came after - the other threads, the thread world, how it works, is unique to TRT!

TRT is now longer than War and Peace, and Crime and Punishment combined! So if you've read all of TRT so far, then you have the perfect middle finger to anyone who tries to say you can't focus on longer stories!

The inciting penguin documentary that Foggy drunkenly watched (which led to him declaring Matt and Jane 'penguins') was about Adelie penguins specifically!

Jane has a leather jacket because I love leather jackets and think all badass characters should have a leather jacket! And so you should you! EVERYONE DESERVES A COOL LEATHER JACKET.

The long hiatus between Chapter 4 and Chapter 5 was because I had life things pop up. During that hiatus, I realized the plotline/ending needed some work, so I spent those two years outlining, and I also wound up doing a bunch of additional novel writing classes just because I wanted to learn. A lot of this wound up influencing TRT!

The grey threads are one of the only threads that no one has solved yet!

There are absolutely some bad people working for Cyrus James. There is also a guy named Kyle. He is there not for Evil Purposes (tm) but instead because this was the only place he could work that would allow him to pay off his student loans.

When I started TRT, I thought maybe 5 people total would read it. I was told five people total would read it by some shitty people. So I wrote it expecting five total people would read it, and told myself at least I'd enjoy it, and I could use it to learn. In other words: I had ZERO idea TRT would take off like this. None. Nada. Zip. AND LOOK AT US NOW, BABY. FUCK THE HATERS, 6 YEARS AND GOIN' STRONG.

Based on my outline, we're a bit over halfway to the end!

I hope you enjoyed these TRT funfacts. And I hope you know: this fic isn't just me. It's you, too. This fic has become so much larger than just me. It's the TRT playlist you've sent songs in for that keeps me inspired when writing. It's the fanart I look at to give me a boost. It's your sweet comments and likes and kudos and messages that encourage me when I'm sick or depressed. It's the people who've made friends over this fic, or who've been inspired to write fic themselves, adding beautiful works to the community that we all use to keep going. It's all of this love for both TRT and Matt, and I'm so happy that I've been able to contribute in at least a small way in keeping Charlie!Daredevil love alive even after the show's been gone for years now. I love you all so, so goddamn much. I love this fandom. I love TRT with all my heart. Thank you so much for being a part of these past six years through cancelations, through your high school and college years and beyond, through my ups and downs of moving and sickness and fiberglass and pandemic craziness, through late night chapter drops and wild twists and turns.

And I hope the next few years as we enter the second half of this story are just as amazing!

[makeste]

do you perhap have bakugou whump fic recs?

I have many such recs! not all of them are "whump" in the purest sense of the word, but they've got angst and hurt/comfort in abundance, so yeah.

I also have an older rec post from like five years ago which has quite a few Bakugou whump fics as well, so I'll link that here.

and here are like 16 new ones lol.

some quick notes:

I'm just including links and summaries here, so please make sure to check the tags for each fic if you have certain squicks or triggers you're trying to avoid!

please be aware that I am not very nitpicky about grammar and style and spelling and the like, so long as I'm feeling the characterization and general vibes. so while I can't promise that all of these fics will read like Nobel Prize-winning lit, I can say that I personally enjoyed each one enough to go back and reread more than once.

although it tends to be one of the most common tropes in Bakugou angst fics, I do not vibe with the "abusive Mitsuki" angle, so you won't find any of that in the works below. same goes for Midnight-bashing (which is also surprisingly common).

I also did not include any fics with sad endings just because I didn't feel like depressing myself today lol.

I don't think there are manga spoilers in any of these fics except one (which I noted and marked with an asterisk), but definitely check the tags just to be safe.

lastly, though I'm by no means a prude when it comes to fanfic, all of these particular fics are SFW, just FYI.

----------------------------------------

gen Bakuwhump:

----------------------------------------

It's Already Tomorrow on the Other Side of the World by Nicole_Silverwolf

In the absolute immediate aftermath of his rescue at Kamino, Bakugou just wants to sleep. If he sleeps then this nightmare will be over. Except he's freezing in the mid August heat. And he can't stop shaking. A glimpse of two imperfect humans trying their best told in 3.5 parts.

post-Kamino Dadzawa and Katsuki. easily one of my all-time favorite BnHA fics. it's so sad and cozy.

Coming Up for Air by achievingelysium

Katsuki has nightmares. He doesn't think he deserves the comfort, but Aizawa-sensei sits with him anyway.

more Dadzawa dealing with nighttime Kacchan angst, since that's like my #1 BnHA fic aesthetic. this is so well-written. like, there are a couple of lines in here that just... guh. just hit right to the core of me.

Bakugou's "Super Fun" Three Day Vacation by Marvelless

Bakugou and his parents arrive home after the Kamino Ward incident for some much-needed recovery time.

post-Kamino Bakufam angst. lots of paranoia and dissociation. this is one of those fics that's sort of a guilty pleasure for me, because Katsuki definitely feels a lot more... fragile?... in this than I think he would have been in canon. but he's still enough of a grump during all of his spiralling that it still feels like him. and I do love me some Bakufam wholesomeness, and this fic has got that in spades.

the art of poor judgement by emelinelou

It's a Tuesday when Bakugou admits to himself that maybe, maybe he is sorta, kinda under the weather. Things go quickly downhill from there. . Alternatively: Bakugou's too stubborn to be "sick," Midoriya and Kirishima are in over their heads, Todoroki is the Most Useful in a pinch, and Aizawa is not paid nearly enough for this.

probably my favorite sickfic. chapter two especially. Bakugou's narration in this is fucking fantastic. he's so fucking done with life. meanwhile everyone around him is freaking out, and he himself is a complete mess even though he won't acknowledge it, and it's just great. it's equal parts funny, sad, and absolutely adorable.

(incidentally, even though this fic is marked as incomplete, it really doesn't feel that way and ends at a perfectly reasonable stopping point, so don't let that put you off.)

Solar Flare by TheQueen

Three weeks after Katsuki Bakugou receives his quirk, he takes a short tumble off a bridge and watches, dumbfounded, as stupid Deku extend a hand. Don’t take it, the universe commands. Don’t tell me what to do! Katsuki snaps.

this is a really cool AU in which Baby Katsuki accidentally starts defying the universe and ignoring his predestined path, which has a profound ripple effect on his life. sort of like a time-travel fix-it, minus the time travel. also just a heads up that Bakugou is like five years old in this so I guess it's technically a kidfic. and there is plenty of angst, a little bit of whump, more Bakufam, and plenty of baby Kacchan and Deku being cute like it's their job.

----------------------------------------

BKDK/DKBK whump:

----------------------------------------

lose it all (with eyes wide open) by ghostwriterofthemachine

Katsuki is blinded. Izuku is muted. Both of them are kidnapped. Things get worse.

this is one of those fics that just kind of leaves you stunned at how freaking good it is. featuring: psychological mindgames, hopelessly bleak situations, and codependency so utterly raw and desperate that it broke my heart roughly 17 times.

When Ice Doesn't Float by Ma_skee

A simple rescue exercise goes south when Izuku falls through the ice and it goes from a class assinment to an actual rescue and a race against time to keep him from freezing to death.

technically this is more Dekuwhump than Kacchanwhump (though we do get a bit of the latter toward the end), but I'd argue that few things could possibly stress Katsuki out more than being in a tense survival situation in which Deku is hurt and needs help. anyway so yeah. this is classic hurt/comfort and very good.

spinning out of control by mollE

Katsuki joins the 'I've Been Mind Controlled' Club. He wishes he hadn't.

please see above re: how all Dekuwhump scenarios are secretly Kacchanwhump scenarios in disguise. anyway so basically a mind-controlled Bakugou beats the shit out of Deku while being fully aware of it the entire time, and has a complete (and understandable) emotional breakdown afterwards.

all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing by maxisnotokay

Izuku has had this thing about him that Katsuki has never been able to name, but he's been chasing it since he learned how to run. It takes a catastrophic building collapse during their third year and a severe concussion for him to realize what it is. Aizawa loses ten years off his life. When does he not.

gotta love a good building collapse fic. this one has a concussed Katsuki, a very worried Izuku, and the usual "thanks to this intimate life-or-death situation, I have belatedly realized some fundamental truths about the nature of our relationship" tropes. but it's good. a lot of really good banter and back-and-forth dialogue in this one too.

takes one to know one by Sour_Idealist

Deku has left UA. Ochako still looks for him in unguarded moments. Bakugo is, unsurprisingly, being a jerk.

some good emotional hurt/comfort post-Jakku. Ochako has a chat with Bakugou about Deku. specifically, Bakugou's feelings toward Deku. it's good shit.

*fear is the heart of love by nikkiRA

*please be advised this fic contains major manga spoilers!!

Bakugou gets hit by a quirk that amplifies his greatest fear for 24 hours.

losing Deku. the thing that scares him the most is losing Deku. this is a good fic. emotional hurt/comfort for days. though once again do keep in mind that there are a couple of major spoilers in this.

silence is what i do best by notreally

the one where both Izuku and Katsuki were hit with a truth serum sort of quirk, and things aren't going all too well.

not just a truth-telling quirk, but a truth-compulsion quirk, to the extent that (spoiler alert) the quirk causes them physical pain and distress if they don't speak the truth. which, as you can imagine, leads to all sorts of extremely vulnerable conversations and a lot of good h/c.

close by not quite by blossomshed

When Bakugou goes after a beacon during a class-wide rescue op, he doesn't expect to find Deku - or to find himself dealing with the fallout of a gift he doesn't want, and a side of himself he'd never bothered to examine. He deals with it nonetheless.

this fic is so dear to me. it's yet another "Deku transfers OFA to Bakugou fic", but it's just so fucking good. and it also features a (very much confused) ace Bakugou, which is such a rare find. there are lines from this fic which I still think about constantly. it's funny and profound and adorable and so wonderfully IC, please go read it.

----------------------------------------

BONUS NON-ANGSTY FICS because I just felt like ending this list with some happy stories where Kacchan gets a lot of love:

----------------------------------------

give me compliments (i said give me compliments) by wonhaebunny

“It’s just cute,” Ashido is telling them as she walks into the classroom. “Like, when you compliment someone and they get flustered so easily, don’t you think it’s endearing?” Kaminari blinks. “Like Bakugou?” he asks slowly. - 1-a realises that katsuki is really, really bad at receiving compliments. exposure therapy ensues.

he is bad at accepting compliments. this is a very, very cute fic.

The Friendship Ladder by nikkiRA

Bakugou and Kirishima tell their classmates they're dating, but everyone seems more interested in who gets to claim the newly vacated spot of Bakugou’s best friend.

as the summary implies this is technically KRBK, but the focus here is very much class 1-A as a whole. there's just something about seeing the entirety of the class squabbling over their Kacchan love that tickles me to no end. Deku is also fantastic in this lmao.

The Yoshida Trail by WinterSwallow

Mitsuki Bakugo returns with her gift to the mountain.

last but not least we have this gorgeous character study with a criminally low view count. Mitsuki climbs Mt. Fuji with an eight-year-old Katsuki in tow, as the fic explores his childhood and young adulthood through a series of vignettes. the insights in this really have no business being as profound as they are, given that they're voiced from the perspective of one of the most graceless characters in the series as she observes her equally graceless son through all the ups and downs and tumbles of his life. but somehow that just makes the whole thing even better. idk I just really love this a lot.

---

anyway that's it for now. hope at least a few of these are enjoyable. thanks for the ask!

[c-schroed]

Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) Or Why The Probably Most Accurate Movie Adaptation Of Dracula Still Is Not Accurate Enough

I mentioned some time ago - while salivating over the marvellous razor scene of Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula adaptation - that there is quite some stuff to unpack here. And now I found some time to unpack. So let's begin. I'll start with the good stuff, firstly the good stuff that's not in the book (i.e., the Flourishes), than the good stuff that's true to the book (the Well-Conserved). Thirdly, I'll make note of things that were, unnervingly, changed (by which I mean They Came Back Wrong), and then I'll deal with what is unfortunately left out from the book (the Missing). And finally, finally I'll rant over that two bad things that never were in the book in the first place (a section I'll call JUST WHY?).

So. A tragedy in five acts. Here we go.

Act I - The Flourishes

The razor scene. I think I dealt with this enough by now. It's perfection and I'll die on that hill.

The music. Obviously, Bram Stoker's gothic lil masterpiece is lacking some gorgeous score. But mourn no longer, because Wojciech Kilar cooked up some dashing, pushing tune for us, fitting perfectly to this dark tale of spreading darkness and deepening madness.

Some basic knowledge about blood groups. Yeah, Stoker can't be blamed for this, but still. It's a nice addition to remind us that we do indeed live in a world where blood groups exist.

The Westenra Estate. As much as I pity that the lovely town of Whitby did not make it into the movie, I do love Lucy Westenra's house. Because I'm a sucker for hedge mazes. Simple as that.

Those glasses. Those. Fucking. Nice. Glasses.

Act II - The Well-Conserved

The plot in general. Yes, there are a lot of maddening differences, as we will see soon. But still, this movie at least makes the impression that most of the people working on it had indeed read the darn novel. Which is something that I can't say about many other Dracula adaptations I have seen.

The costumes, the sets, the atmosphere. Well done, everyone!

The Actors. The good thing about being not native in a language is that one is not very prone to dialects that seem off. And as I happen to not be a native speaker of English, I have little problems with Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder adding some US touch to what should be very, very, v e r y British characters. I even find Reeves perfectly fitting for the oh so darn young Jonathan Harker. And the rest of the cast is marvellous, too (with the exception of Winona Ryder, see below for details). Especially Tom Waits, who is hard-wired to the name of Renfield in my brain ever since I first saw this movie. And Gary Oldman as Dracula… Well. I think I already made clear what opinion I have about that sexy bastard.

Some lucky few of lovely quotes made it over to the film. Dracula's welcome. The Fowl Bauble of Human Vanity, of course. And Qunincey almost making me faint when saying "Little girl" when I least expected it.

Act III - They Came Back Wrong

The dates. Goshdarnit, the dates! It's an epistolary novel, so why make the effort of making up completely new dates for events that already had a precise date in the novel? I just don't get it. And it unnerves me. Every. Fucking. Time.

Time in general. Watching the movie after Dracula Daily makes it feel so very, very hasty. Jonathan travels to Castle Dracula like it's no thing at all. And the first few days in Castle Dracula are condensed into one weird evening.

Dracula meeting Mina before Jonathan is back. I really, really loved the book for avoiding the most terrible tropes. And then comes this movie, and struts right into this terrible pitfall.

Mina. I'm sorry, usually I love the work of Winona Ryder, but here she was way too bland. Maybe it was because her character had quite a revamp (ha. ha.) and no one cared to tell her what new approach she should take. But whatever reason, the clever, adorable train fiend of the original did not deserve this!

Act IV - The Missing

The Voyage of the Demeter is way too short. Where is "But I am captain, and I must not leave my ship"? Where is the poor sea captain tying himself to the wheel? And where is his funeral? Oh, I really missed all that. And, I mean, I don't mind hearing Anthony Hopkins read the lines, but would it have been such an expense to at least hire an additional actor to voice the correspondent or the sea captain?

Jonathan Holding Mina By the Arm. That's really not an objectively big issue. That's just me who fell in love with JonMina after reading this chapter. And almost no one does it properly. They deserve justice!

(Thanks a ton to @smieska for capturing my mood just perfectly!)

Act V - JUST WHY?

Elisabeta. Don't get me wrong here: All of the oh so tragic Drac backstory they invented for this movie is terribly unnecessary. But in this sea of uselessness, the tragically deceased wife of Vlad Țepeș that just so happens to perfectly resemble Mina Murray is an audience-insulting island of unoriginality. I mean, yeah, I guess someone wanted to add some romance to the story of Vlad the Fucking Impaler. Because, well, nineties or so. But Mina, of all women? Why not invent some new character that can be bothered with such stuff? Why ruin an all-nice JonMina ship? I don't get the whole new backstory, and I especially don't get this aspect.

Dracula raping Lucy in his shitty werewolf form. Everything about this is wrong. And it has no relevance for the plot. Just. Blergh.

Epilogue

It's cruel to watch Francis Ford Coppola's take on Dracula right after finishing @re-dracula. I know that now. Everything is still too fresh. It's a good movie, after all, but especially because it's quite good it is frustrating to be so terribly aware of all its shortcomings. In a few weeks or so, I would recommend it, again, I guess. As long as it's still Dracula Off-Season. 7 out of 10 points.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.

[halfagone]

Quick Q: How many fanfics that have annoying you the most with the cross over with Danny and Batman with the bat kids-(if we cam called them kids, lol)?

To be honest, I have read a lot of them or so into the crossover, yet the fanfic I had see so far, are half ok, not over use with “Danny’s bio father is Bruce and his mother is whatever they use as the mother, plus how Danny got into the Fanton’s family, etc.”

I'm gonna take some advice from a friend and reply to this ask with a good faith interpretation.

I won't lie, there are some fics that are just not for me. But I also don't want to stop anyone from enjoying the fic tropes that they love. Yes, there are a lot of "Bruce Wayne is Danny's bio father" fics, but there are also a lot of Titans Tower AUs and you can bet your ass I will devour those fics like a dying man in the desert. The reason there are so many fics with the same trope is because people enjoy those stories, so why wouldn't they want to write more of them?

Sometimes tropes will be hit-or-miss for me. Jazz/Jason are hit-or-miss for me, summoning fics are hit-or-miss for me, de-aged Danny fics are hit-or-miss for me. But I never get annoyed that there are so many of them, I just have to learn to be more selective with my reading choices. And that's one of the great things about having a wide selection of the same type of story- you get to be a little picky. You can go: "Oh I'm not in the mood for this right now" or "Oh I like this interpretation more, I think I'll stick to these kinds from now on".

And if it's still not for you, then it's not for you! The one trope that I can never seem to get into is Dan Phantom Redemption fics. Most of that stems from how much I adore him as a villain and reflection to Danny. But I have good friends that like to explore his character that way. Good for them! I might not read it, but they understand not to take it personally.

At the end of the day, I'm a fanfic writer too. If I want to read something so specific that badly then I should take it upon myself and write it. Would it be easier if someone else wrote it for me? Abso-fucking-lutely, but it goes back to respecting 'to each their own' and leaving it at that.

[kayjaydee17]

Musings on dead dove

I'm untagging some of my Avatar fics as "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat"

I've recently seen several people misunderstanding/misusing the dead dove tag to mean, simply, "this is a dark fic, pay attention to the tags, they're not fucking around".

That's not what the dead dove tag means.

When it was originally proposed by mostlyvalid, it was intended to differentiate between fics that addresses their problematic elements (perhaps through subversion of tags, narrative commentary, unpacking of those tags) and fics that perhaps didn't want to do that, that just wanted to roll around in their dark tags.

As they say at the end of their post:

“you see the tropes and concepts tagged here? they are going to appear in this fic. exactly as said. there will not necessarily be any subversion, authorial commentary condemning problematic aspects, or meditation on potential harm. this fic contains dead dove. if you proceed, you should expect to encounter it.”

I go into more detail about how I interpret the dead dove tag in one of my own posts, but basically, it's particularly useful in cases where the same tags may apply to very different fics. Is the fic commentating on, idk, brainwashing and abuse, and exploring the problematic elements? Or does it want to roll around in those tags and have fun with them (often, by not always, in the form of smut)? The dead dove tag would indicate the latter.

(Please note that neither fic is more ‘valid’ or ‘worthwhile’ than the other. They serve different purposes and provide different experiences to their audiences.)

I've been trying to work out why I used it for my fics despite knowing it wasn't quite right. I think part of it was due to the erotic nature of what I was writing -- there's almost an expectation that if you're writing dark erotic fic, it's automatically dead dove. But that's not true. Writing something through an erotic lens is not the same as writing erotica, which is not the same as writing something indulgent of your badhotdirtywrong kinks.

I also think part of it was an attempt to protect myself. My fics are darker than what the majority of the fandom writes. If someone came into the comments yelling at me for writing taboo topics (loving the rise of purity culture in fandom, btw, just loving it), I wanted to be able to point to my tags and say, "You read these warnings, you opened my bag labelled with dead dove, you don't get to be mad that you found a dead dove here."

But my tags already serve as warnings (or possibly as enticements). I don't need to misuse a tag made for the dark fic community by the dark fic community just to protect myself from people who think I shouldn't be writing these things at all.

While there are moments in my Avatar fic that are those self-indulgent moments that both scare and thrill me (fear and eroticism share a door in this house), that's not what my posted fics are currently about. All the pieces I've posted are about psychological horror, abuse, vulnerability, recovery, what it means to live with monsters around you and in your head, what it means to be safe, what we do to keep ourselves safe.

(I do think I'll be writing something more in the dead dove realm of things soon -- playing around with those ideas was what made me realise that my current posted pieces actually aren't dead dove fics. It's especially apparent in my sex pollen series, which really isn't about the fun sexy feelings of sex pollen and is way more about the consent issues and trauma of being sex pollened)

I think dead dove, as it was originally created, is such a great, important tag. I don't like seeing it diluted by people who think it just means "this is dark", and I hate that I fell into that, too -- the idea that just because my fic was dark and erotic automatically meant it was a dead dove fic.

So, to other dead dove and dark fic writers -- what makes you decide to tag a piece as dead dove? What makes a piece feel like it steps over into dead dove territory for you?

(there are no right or wrong answers! art is art, without any easy lines of division that we can draw. I'm just curious and would love to talk about this with people)

[quiet-nocturne]

ohhh for the writing ask meme how about 11, 20, and 28?

oooh, thank you for the ask!! ok, so: 11. Three tropes that are fine but overrated. honestly, I love a lot of tropes (lol @ myself, earlier, looking through a list of tropes and desperately scrolling to find one I don't love - like literally give me a soulmark au anyday), but the ones that aren't my favorites are: 1. Regency/Royalty AUs - I love, love period dramas, but often I feel like when fics are written with this trope, the characters feel totally off for me. There's not a lot in the royai fandom, but definitely in some other ones I've been in. 2. Virgin!fics - I just don't consider it to be all that accurate (for royai, anyway - it could definitely work more for other fandoms/pairings, depending). Like, even for Riza, I really don't think her back tattoo prevented her from having sex at least once (excluding/before Roy) - in my opinion, anyway! I find general inexperience is more fun to play with then straight up virgin fics. 3. major character death - I will usually avoid reading something involving this, because it usually makes me big sad. :( not that it can't be well done, butttt yeah haha. I love some good angst, but I don't enjoy when it's too angsty. also for royai, I'm like... at least let them have some happiness, jeez?

but honestly, any trope can be cool and interesting depending on how the writer does it! and, like, whatever floats your boat, ya know? 20. Do you work on a single project or many at the same time? How does that work for you? okay, so this depends on my mood, and current wip hyperfixation, but generally I do enjoy working on multiple at once. it's nice to be able to switch between projects when you get stuck... but sometimes it's also nice to focus on one thing.

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

so writing advice can be very... self-specific, if that makes sense? i find a lot of writing advice out there that's supposed to be geared towards anyone sometimes doesn't always work for everyone. but! a few things that I find helpful for myself are: 1. don't believe the voice in your head telling you that your writing is awful - that is the devil talking, lol. let it sit for a bit, and come back, and I promise that it'll be better when you're reading it using a different mindset. it's happened to me so many times where I'm like "this is fucking awful why did I ever write this" and then I reread it a few days/weeks/months later and I'm like "wait, this is actually good??" it just needs to simmer for a bit. 2. as stated earlier, let your writing sit for a bit, especially while editing, or trying to figure out transitions or plot holes. I'll get really frustrated with an issue sometimes, and believe it's impossible to fix - but mostly that's just me hitting a wall. if I let it sit for a while, and stop reading my own words for a bit (i basically get sick of my own writing lol), then suddenly a lot of the problems are a lot easier to solve. 3. keep a list of words/phrasing that you like - then you have a reference to look at when you're struggling with word choice. super helpful, as I often get stuck with descriptions, and then I have a nice little list to use as reference. 4. skip over stuff that you're struggling with in the initial writing process - can't think of a name? add it later! not sure how to describe something? skip it and come back! don't like your word choice? fix it later! basically don't fixate on small details, as it can always be added in later. this is why I always have to tell myself that editing is not as bad as I blow it up to be in my head, because honestly the best parts of my writing usually happen during the editing process.

i don't know how helpful those are, but yeah!

[sapphire-weapon]

i think it's totally cool to enjoy leon and ashley as a platonic dynamic. but the whole "sibling coded" take really rubs me the wrong way bc it feels like it's used as a way to devalue their relationship? especially by a certain subset of shippers. they can't deny that leon and ashley have a strong bond and are clearly very important to each other, but they can make it less of a "threat" by insisting that canon portrays them as "totally platonic siblings" when that is not the case at all

It's modern fandom's way of engaging in casual misogyny in a socially acceptable way. Ashley's not allowed to have her own sexual agency, despite literally asking Leon to fuck her in OG.

There are so many kids in modern-day fandom who just wish they were back in my generation's days of outright calling a female character a slut and wishing death on her because she gets in the way of a ship. Oh dear lord do they wish they were still in those days.

But those days are long gone and they know they'll get jumped on for saying shit like that, so suddenly they just decide one day that they'll read the relationship as "found family" without understanding what the found family trope actually is, just so that they can turn it into "sibling/incest" discourse. Or they make up some fantasy about how the 7-year age gap is "problematic" when literally anyone who goes outside and engages with society in the real world would call that fucking insane.

And I've said it before and I'll say it again: reading Leon and Ashley as siblings is just an incorrect interpretation of Leon, and you are misunderstanding his character on a fundamental level if you interpret him this way.

Leon is the Protector archetype. That's literally what's at the core of his entire character arc. He fights for a government he doesn't trust in ways he doesn't believe in, because he has to in order to protect somebody (Sherry).

That's still fucking true after RE4. It doesn't just go away. That's literally the reason why he turns down Ashley's proposal to become her security detail. He can't do that, because he still has to dance to the gov't's tune, because he still has to worry about them possibly hurting Sherry if he doesn't.

And if Leon really felt like Ashley was family -- the way that he feels Sherry is family? He would never have cut her out of his life post-RE4. That's not who he is. He is a Protector with a need to protect, and he's stubborn as fuck about it and won't ask for help.

Sure, Leon can't emotionally bring himself to actually have a relationship with Sherry because of the crippling, overwhelming guilt he feels... but he still checks on her. Even if she doesn't know it, he's still watching over her, still making sure she's okay.

He doesn't do that for Ashley.

Because Ashley isn't family.

Ashley was someone who got too close, so he pushed her away. Just like he did to Claire in her RE3 epilogue and again at the end of ID. And he's trying to do the same thing to Chris, but Chris is somehow more stubborn than Leon is, even, so it's not working.

Men and women can be just friends. It's not one or the other -- romance or family. Sometimes? They're just friends. And canonically? That's what Leon and Ashley are. They're friends. Until he pushes her away, just like he did all his other friends (except Chris who's more immovable than the boulder he punched into a volcano). And she won't be the last person he does it to, either. It's just how he is.

[writinggremlin]

Self Intro V. 2.0

Almost done with the updated masterlist let's gooooo poggies babagaboosh!!! In the meantime, here's a little bit about me (again)!

You may call me Gremlin (The Soup Hoarder Keeper works too). My pronouns are she/they, with no preference between them. You can stick with she/her, you can stick with they/them, or you can casually change it every other sentence, I don't care. Hell, if you're feeling extra zesty, you can even change them out mid-sentence too. "She decided that she was going to eat their lunch at the park today." Are you still talking about the same person, or somebody else entirely? Who knows! (Tip: The more cursed you can make it, the more bonus points you can get!) For the minor dni blogs, my current life level is 20. If that's all you've come here for, then have a nice day! My current hobbies include: writing (ofc), daydreaming about what I'm going to write, reading (but not my own writing, that's guaranteed to make me cringe /j), going on walks that are way too long, going on bike rides that are way too long (this was written before The Incident (TM)), going to the library, and... existing?? I guess??? Life is my favorite hobby!! :D!!

Tropes I Enjoy:

Delirium/Half-Conscious/Dazed

Mind Control/Hypnosis/Brainwashing (I guess you could say that I tend to... lose my mind over this stuff!) (No. I'm not getting rid of this pun. You can't make me. Fuck you *runs away*)

Drugged/Spiked

Sick/Fever

Fainting (Get some of that myoclonic jerking in there too and you immediately have my full undivided attention)

Hypoxia (Those hypoxia simulation chambers that are typically used to train pilots. Give. Me.)

Just about anything that involves a Whumpee's mind going blank, numb, and quiet. That is the feral soup.)

Lab Whump (Still a little tricky to write, but we're improving)

Starvation/Restrictive Eating Disorders (I feel that it is important to note that this blog is not centered around this topic, and that I support and encourage recovery from such an ordeal. If you are recovering then first off, I am proud of you, second, please be careful browsing my blog and following me, as I may post triggering content from time to time. I will be sure to tag appropriately, but I still advise that caution be used here. Feel free to block me if need be. Thank you.)

Pushed to the limit, and then some. Doesn't matter who's pushing who.

Tropes I Don't So Much Enjoy:

I don't really have anything in terms of triggers, but there are still some topics that I don't exactly feel comfortable reading and writing.

Sexual Non-Con (I just feel squeamish reading it. Gives the heebie jeebies)

Oddly Specific/Unorthodox Gore (Yanking teeth, scooping eyeballs, pulling out entire finger/toe nails, etc. Anything along those lines also heebies my jeebies)

I tend to stay away from kink in general, especially in sickfic and emeto. I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with kink stuff, I have no qualms about it existing. I'll support you guys from the sidelines, and even maybe rb a kink fic if it hits the right notes. But overall, kink just isn't really my thing; it's not really what I come here for, y'know? YKINMKATO 👍 (thumbs up)

Well, now that I've made you read this far, it's time for me to hit you with the juicy juice. I have OCs. I have many OCs. You might've already noticed this, but if you didn't, now you know. I also have a couple different original realms/dimensions too. One is a cluster of floating islands in the void, and the other is a liminal space. No-- not that liminal space -- though the Backrooms is a cannon place here -- but this liminal space doesn't have an uncanny feeling about it at all, sorry to disappoint. It's a liminal space in the fact that it's a space between universes; a nexus, a bridge, a crossroads. Which universes does it connect to? Well... I don't want to spill everything right off the bat here! Guess you'll just have to wait and see for yourself. Anygay, I will be writing with these characters and occasionally use those settings, but be aware that any plot and development will most likely be shown through blurbs and bits, and not a central series. Well, at least for now. There might be a thing or two currently in the works teehee.

Check out my OC Information post for more information regarding the gang! (Currently bare bones scaffolding. You'll probably learn more about them from checking their post tags, which are linked in the info post. I infodump in the tags a lot lmao)

If you have any questions about the characters, the universe, or even for me myself, feel free to send in an ask!! Asking me to infodump is fully welcomed and wanted here, I swear my day will be made. So don't be shy, I don't bite! Kage and Ember probably would though, so be sure to wear your padded gloves around those two.

And I think that's about it! I can't wait to show you all my favorite pathetic lil wet fucks! Hopefully you'll become just as excited about them as I've been! Until then, I'll be seeing you around! Thanks for reading all of this, and I hope you have a lovely day/night/life! Stay safe!!

[clairelsonao3]

Happy STS!

I haven't gotten a chance to read what you've written so far, but I'm curious as to your process. What was the source of inspiration for your current WIP? Did you start with characters who wouldn't stop talking in your head? Flashes of moments? Images inspired by music? What do you fall back on when you need to be re-inspired?

Happy STS and thanks for the ask!

No worries, my ongoing WIP on Ao3 is over 100K posted words, so I by no means expect you to. 😂

Good Slaves Never Break the Rules is the long-time-coming perfect storm of three main influences.

First, I started writing it almost eight years ago to entertain myself on a transatlantic sea voyage (that's worth another whole post altogether), and some of the characters and early situations (I won't say specifically which ones!) were inspired by the unusual dynamics that pop up when strangers from vastly different origins and roles onboard are pressed together in a small space with no choice but to work and spend time together (very soon, my imagination wildly diverged from what actually happened however 😂).

Second, for a long time, I've been an avid reader of pretty much any and all slavefic (there's a lot on Ao3, both fanfic and original) and much of it is good. I always especially liked the alternate universe ones that had slavery transposed to a modern setting. But for all of that time, I could never find THE story I was looking for, the one that uses many of the common whumpy slavefic tropes (although this was long before I was in the whump community, that was just a happy accident) but is also a preferably M/F romance, using a very different type of male MC who, despite being a slave and the target of pretty much constant abuse of all kinds, has much more in common with conventional romance heroes than the perpetual helpless victims that slaves tend to be in fiction. And the female MC, rather than being some powerful dominatrix type who can do whatever she wants, is an ordinary girl who is also oppressed in a way by the society she lives in, is blind to its wrongs, and has to have her eyes opened to be brave enough to stand up for what's right. And though power dynamics are always at the forefront, the MCs come to see each other as equals. So this was also one of those "I guess I'll write it myself" moments.

Third (and I don't think I've ever had a chance to discuss this on this blog before, so thank you!), having studied the classics, for many years I've been enamored with the ancient Roman comedies of Plautus and Terence, who tended to use slaves as main characters -- and I do mean main characters. They're active, clever, funny, charming, often manipulative (but always for the right reasons), perpetually involved in zany plans and schemes, and they're anything but victims. I'd written a few things inspired by these plays previously (including a quasi-historical short story and my very first novel, also historical and of a writing quality typical for an 18-year-old, many years ago), but now that my writing skills are far more advanced, I thought it was time to try again, using a modern alt-history setting this time. Plus the plays themselves are just really fucking funny, and my story incorporates a lot of humor (and a lot of really dark stuff, too, but that's usually how it works with me).

As for getting re-inspired? I also had to do that quite recently after writing and posting a monster chapter and needing a break. What helped was rereading some of those earlier scenes that I was really excited about, and doing some tag games on Tumblr (including the Q&A I tagged you in) that allowed me to just have fun writing in my characters' voices and kind of re-re-discover them.

Thanks for a great ask!

[gyokujyn]

Get To Know Me Tag Game

Tagged by @blackwood4stucky - Aspen, thank you for the tag, but I am breaking all the rules and changing most of the some questions to really get to know me (and hopefully you)! Pretend I tagged you at the bottom, too, cause it won't let me tag you twice!

1. How did you get your nickname (or url)?

I don't really have a nickname, but my url is the first long term OC I used to RP back in the day. I see a lot of hate for RPing OCs these days, but when the internet still screamed at you before you could logon, almost everyone RPed OCs--in fact it was looked down on to RP an existing character or an OC that was related to an existing character. Gyoku Jynnae was a Star Trek OC, but I also RPed Star Wars, D&D, and a few others in AOL chat rooms, forums/message boards, and email. I keep the name in case I ever run into anyone from that time in my life because some of those people helped keep me alive and I'll never forget it.

2. What's the last thing that made you cry?

Therapy yesterday. I'm trying to be less allergic to feelings. Go me.

3. What's your latest guilty pleasure?

I generally don't feel guilty about the things that bring me pleasure, lol, but I'm a little embarrassed that I realized my Stucky playlist on Spotify has long since exceeded 200 songs (sitting pretty close to 230 rn) so I created, I shit you not, a spreadsheet to help me most effectively split it into more specific lists for various timeframes or feelings and I am really enjoying listening to all the songs and organizing it.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I never did organized sports, but I did regularly get dropped in the wilderness with a map and a compass for "fun" when I was in high school--does that count?

5. What are your pet peeves?

I hate the sound of chewing/lip smacking/swallowing. I probably have misophonia because it makes me want to vault the table and punch someone.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Hair and hands, usually. Eye contact is not my forte, so I am way more likely to remember someone by their shoes or something than by their face.

7. What is your eye color?

Hazel. I have a ring of brown around my pupil, then a ring of green outside of that like some kind of ridiculous YA novel.

8. What super specific trope or genre is your kryptonite?

Not sure how super specific this is, but I love psychological horror and body horror. I love the kinds of stories and movies where I walk away thinking I'm moving on with my life and then days later, something happens and my heart is pounding and I'm thinking about it again. I love horror that lives under your skin and in the back of your mind until it grips you out of nowhere.

9. What is your superpower?

I am very observant of details, which might be a superpower, but it usually feels like my villain origin story. It makes me good at reading people, but terrible at finishing projects because all I see are the faults and I get overwhelmed and it never gets finished.

10. Which fictional world would you be happy to call home?

You remember that late-aughts Bruce Willis movie where everyone plugs into an interface that lets them leave their bodies at home and navigate the world in an idealized, customizable body with no pain? Yeah, me, neither. I don't think about being able to have a pain-free body that reflects my personal image of myself everyday. Not at all.

11. What are your hobbies?

Reading, creating art, and video games. Between kids and COVID, my other hobby, tabletop RPG, is on a long term hiatus.

12. Do you have any pets?

We've recently lost a dog and a cat, so we're down to 1 cat and about 27,000 fish (not really, but we do have 8 running fish tanks, 3 of which are each over 50 gallons, so, like, there's a lot of fish).

13. What is your biggest toxic trait?

Oh, man, when I am in a relationship with someone, I want to be the center of their fucking universe. Which is weird because I am not monogamous and I am my wife's number one wing man, but it's not about jealousy. I want to know that I can trust my partner to have my back. That they're thinking about me. That they want me. I want to be wanted desperately. I will and have broken up with partners who weren't bad people or a bad match for me, they just weren't as mad about me as I wanted them to be. I feel like a narcissist typing this out, but it's the truth.

14. Is there anything you're afraid you won't accomplish?

I don't know that this is really an accomplishment, but I always wanted to have lots of kids and I always wanted to foster and adopt some of my kids. I knew kids growing up that needed safe homes and never got them (I probably was one, but I was afraid to get into the system, so I just kept my head down and dealt with it) and I always wanted to be the safe place I never had. But, it's expensive. Not the kids--I know kids are expensive (I already have 2). I don't understand why fostering and adopting is so expensive.

15. What's number one on your bucket list?

I want to go back to school to become a teacher, but I'm really finding it daunting right now.

Tags: I'm just tagging a dozen recentish mutuals that I don't know so well, yet... no pressure, but I'd love to get to know you better! @winterscrump @basnatural @eloquentreverie @vellicore @milarca @the-kestrels-feather @iceandironbars @sarahowritesostucky @natashadied4oursins @thepiper0fhameln @hypnxrchy @shurisbedroom If I didn't tag you, but you want to play, please feel free to jump in and tag me anyway!

[applesandbannas747]

For the fic writer ask, 10, 34 and 38?

ahh!! thank you for playing more silly ask games with meee <33

10. How do you decide what to write?

whatever makes my brain go brrrr. lmfao I have a million ideas that collect in my brain (and then get jotted down in notes lest I forget them all), and then from them I'll kinda pick what to write based on a couple of things: interest level at the moment of choosing, ship, length, and genre.

Biggest thing that indicates something will be written immediately is when I start composing scenes in my head while falling asleep or zoning out--that usually means it's Time to work on that project, but that's not always how things get picked.

I do try (and I used to be better at it) to stagger my fics in a way that keeps my readers happy/interested. So I try to even out the Nichoji v Eugesse ratio I write, meaning if I just finished a long Eugesse fic, I'd look to choose from a Nichoji idea. And generally when I'm working on longer projects, little ones will pop up to keep the crops diversified in my brain and all that--and those ones always kinda happen on whims/accident and then get stored away for months/years until I have a posting gap they can fill. And genre lmfaooo it was my intention to give people realistic fiction between my fantasy bullshit but that particular criterion has been given up on and I've just accepted it at this point

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

ooo I've said it before but my love for my family and relationship with my siblings really influences the way I write the Labaos--none of the Labao children are based on me or any of my siblings and none of the relationships were copy pasted onto them, but the strong basis of love and bullshittery everything is built on is from my life. and of course the mental illness do be sneaking into all the Fence boys lmfao oops

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?

honestly fucking baffled in the best way when my things get popular lmfao i still can't believe people like some of my stories so much! There's probably four that I think completely surprised me

Fairy Bound gained a lot of fans I was not expecting, especially given the size of the fandom (it's not super big and I thought it had died out a lot more than it has because it's older) and the controversy of the ship (human/fairy with large age gap, you know the drill). I think one of the reasons it got so popular is because of it being a T-rated and longer fic for the ship when most of the longer fics for them were M or E and so it filled a niche? Also it was canon compliant (at least until the sequel series came out...but i don't really see those as canon anyway so my thing still fits into the OG canon yknow?)

More was my very first Fence fic that I wrote because I could not find ANY Nichoji kissing fics and wanted those fuckers to kiss. Which, I think, is why other people liked it, but I was so surprised (in a good way) with how many people commented on it and wanted to read more. It remains my most-kudo'd fence fic, which has honestly got to be from its time accumulating those kudos XD but it makes me smile whenever I get a new kudos on it because it's nice to know that people still like it since it was what jumpstarted my time in the fence fandom

Can't Get Over You is one that baffled me for ages because I had a great time writing it, but I don't think it's my strongest fic by far...and then I realized that maybe other people are as terrible as I am and enjoy the trope of Nick fucking up really bad being mean to Seiji and making him cry, then having to spend ages getting him to believe he loves him. Sometimes makes me wonder if I should post more with that trope or if it would be too upsetti spegetti XD

And then Promised Things I seriously didn't expect to get much traction, and yet, it surpassed Truths, my until-then legacy fic...Turns out business romance is a whole genre that people do be enjoying but I just thought I was being boring because how does 'businessman au' sound appealing to anyone at all except the dumb asshole who wrote it??? also i made so many lingerie jokes in that one and am still delighted that y'all just let me get away with it

[scarrletmoon]

tumblr ate this ask but i still got the email for it?? anyway thank you @unadulteratedkr ily

@unadulteratedkr asked: FOR THE FIC WRITER ASKS: 3, 12, 14, 18 (SPECIFICALLY GLASS HOUSES 👀) , 25, 37, 39, 42, and 45 obviously you don't have to do ALL of them, but I fucking love ask games and want to know ALL THE ANSWERS

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

i use a lot of repetition? i focus a lot on how sentences sound so there's a cadence i like to follow, which means i end up saying the same thing in different ways which is kind of annoying but it's been my style.........forever 🥲

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

i dont think so? mostly it's been me discovering kinks i didn't think i'd ever be into bc i only started reading E fic last year. i have discovered that i can be into pretty much anything as long as it's written well!

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer?

yes. off the top of my head, the only age gap fics i'd read are from friends/writers i trust. same with tentacle fics too, i think? and most iffy tropes although i can't think of any rn

18. If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it involve?

i started writing one that was accidentally inspired by that one episode of Bob's Burgers where Bob's been on a waitlist for this fancy turkey and finally gets it, except this time it's Ed and Stede and Ed wants this fancy ham that'll take like, a 5 hour round trip to get, and Stede offers to drive. and then this happens bc i'm incapable of writing them as not being wildly horny for each other

“Have you?” Stede snapped out of his daydream, a little alarmed now how easy it had been to drift off while he was still driving. “Have I what?” “Dreamt about this.” Stede’s heart galloped in his chest. It was a miracle he could see the road at all, with his head full of the rumble of Ed’s voice, the heat of his body, his fingers light on Stede’s hand, no longer guiding but following the movement. “Why do you think I was so eager to drive you?” One of Stede’s favourite sounds in the world was Ed’s laugh, especially now when he was especially relaxed, warm and effortlessly, hypnotically alluring.  Stede circled his thumb over the head of Ed’s cock, shivering as he caught the pearl of moisture there, and Ed gasped. “Fuck.” Stede could feel the way his thighs tensed, the twitch as the fingers of his free hand curled on the seat. Stede could hear his breathing too, his panting growing heavier with every long, languorous stroke. This was usually the point where Ed got impatient, started bucking his hips or whining, but he was surprisingly patient. Watching Stede’s face through heavy-lidded eyes. Waiting for more. “Did you decide to behave for me today?” Stede flicked his eyes to Ed’s face and away. Ed’s expression was distractingly rapt, even in Stede’s periphery.

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

merriam-webster thesaurus is my best friend

i'll also use One Look occasionally if MW isn't quite cutting it

oh also the color dictionary my beloved

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

maybe it's good that no one read it bc i didn't get it beta read but take from me my lace was so fun to write. i wasn't going to rest until i'd put stede in those laced trousers from ep6, but sluttier

also i get why people dont read it bc it's a christmas fic but Last Christmas has my fave dom Stede outside of PB

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who?

god, all the time. the porn wars with stephanie made PB so much nastier than it could've been. @unadulteratedkr has the most incredible suggestions as a beta reader. @oatmilktruther makes me want to be a better writer bc they're so brilliant. and then for some reason i also take my fic writing cues from bexless, at least for longform?? thanks unholyverse

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

i got so so lucky with PB where i'd get such touching comments from several people, including @lokigodofsex and @oatmilktruther who kept me writing (also Holy Man on ao3, i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖)

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

oh boy um everything? i finished a long form project for the first time in my entire life (i guess, not counting the time i wrote a "novel" when i was like, 13) and that really forced me to get better at continuity, character development, balancing an extended cast of characters and just writing smut in general. i had to end it before i could post all of it but i learned a lot 💖

[boyswanna-be-her]

what are the things you look for / notice in your favourite horror films?

I've been ruminating on this for ten days and I'm still no closer to having perfect answers, so here goes nothing.

The fastest surefire way to make me ADORE a horror movie is to actually freak me out. Now, that bar has clearly risen over the years. When I saw "Blair Witch Project" and "The Ring," they both scared the living daylights out of me and REALLY got under my skin, but with all the horror I've watched since, I doubt I'd have the same response.

At the same time, even if I were exposed to those two today, I would love them without them scaring me, and I think that's what I want to dig more into.

I love Blair Witch because the actors are goofy and fun and feel so real (which, I mean, it's mostly improvised so) as people. I love it because it has a cohesive style, because it has moments of genuine interaction, because it riffs on the ancient fears that we all have when we're out in nature after dark, alone.

I love The Ring because the script is immaculate--spare and sparse and often just as bleak as the color palette used in the film. I love the visuals and how you can feel the cold and damp in your bones. The effects are gross and good. The actors are rigid, almost the opposite of Blair Witch Project in that they are so scripted that they feel much more like Movie Characters than Mike The Sound Guy I Met In Class.

And despite the fact that they're very different, I think the places where they intersect really show what I look for and notice in my favorite horror films--your original question. I notice whatever the film has going for it, truly. I am a kind, forgiving horror viewer if your movie has really ANY sort of point of view--be that a cohesive visual language, characters that are compelling on several levels, or be it a general theme/subgenre that the movie leans into, like mean and nasty brutality just for the sake of it or balls-to-the-wall gore.

If I don't know anything about a movie, but I'm thinking about streaming it, I fast forward to 25 minutes in. By 25 minutes, I need the movie to have established SOMETHING, and it's a pretty quick read. If I click forward and the acting is garbo or the production is way too ugly to look at or the character interactions have no tension... I'm not wasting my time.

And although there are some tropes I like more than others, I'll give anything a try because there are endless ways to do horror that's appealing to me. It's how I can love stuff that's SO unreal like "Mandy" or "Rosemary's Baby" as well as the mumblecore stuff like "Creep" and "Dashcam" and the mean shit like "Climax" and "Titane" and "Martyrs" and even the goofy stuff like "Psycho Goreman" and "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things." Why I can watch "Nope" a dozen times because it's a masterpiece, and also "Spree" a dozen times because it's so, so gleefully stupid.

I think a mistake I made for a long time was searching for stuff to scare me because eventually it's just... not happening. You can't keep chasing that dragon because you'll just stop being scared by movies and you won't enjoy anything. Lean into bad movies, explore things that you don't think will scare you (not that you asked for my advice). It's amazing the things that you don't think will get to you that actually DO end up fucking you up so exquisitely.

PS The only movie to truly scare the hell out of me recently was "The Sadness" and not even because of the concept or the gore but THE CRAZY CRAZY STUFF THE PEOPLE SAID TO EACH OTHER. Holy shit it got to me. Just relentlessly the most freaky shit someone could come up with and they're screaming it at you!!!!