#2 chapters in one book

[goat-yells-at-everything]

I'm FINALLY starting to feel better!

Not totally pain free and definitely feeling the effects of long term pain medication use again but Holy fuck it feels GREAT not to be doubled over in pain crying and unable to do jack shit all!

And I am SOOOOO inspired to draw!!!! And I want to get back to work on my mods!!!! And I restarted my New Horizons island and wana get more of the layout planned!!!!!!

But....

The end of the mod is next week in class and I have 2 weeks of work to catch up on. TTyTT

[cream-and-tea]

must a book have ‘plot’ and ‘structure’ and ‘progression.’ is it not enough for characters to be in a place. and for that place to be really fucking weird.

[buttercupshands]

rewatched Kurogiri's holiday story from ultra impact (not related to sketch at all)

(but it did inspire me)

on another note

finally!!

[isbergillustration]

Something something becoming a city

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Four

also available on AO3 and Quotev | visit first tag to find the other chapters | warnings: pre-s1 (for now), profanity, child death, mentions of blood and injury, smoking

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Four:

Silco and Vander had been getting into fights. 

You didn’t know how it had started, or why. You’d assumed it had to do with the resistance. At least none of them had gotten physical- but then again, how could you tell exactly where the bruises on both men came from? Your peaceful talks with Silco had turned into angry rants.

Both of you lying on the all-too familiar roof, you scooted closer to him, pressing your head into his shoulder. He did his usual motion- tense, relax, then melt into the touch- with the welcome addition of his hand flying to your head, fingers running through your locks. You let out an involuntary sigh.

“-and he just starts yelling. I don’t understand…”

You’d learned to half-tune out his rambling, staring at the sky.

“…and it clearly upsets Alice-“

You sat up straight, twisting your body to lean over him. “What?”

He looked up at you in surprise. “I said, it upsets Alice.”

Your hand was digging into his shirt, bunching up with fabric angrily. “How?” Your voice was stiff. His hand moved to your arm. 

“Nothing, she just… it gets loud sometimes…”

You almost hit Silco right then and there, and you could tell that he could tell. You scowled, eyes blazing as a torrent of admonishments poured from your mouth.

“You two better not fucking…”

“…it’s not…”

“…upsetting her over some stupid-“

“It’s not stupid- look I’m sorry…”

“You better be.” Breathing heavily, you ran your fingers through your hair. “I left her with Vander so she’d be safe, not so that she could witness you two having a screaming match.”

“Hardly screaming,” he muttered, trying to pull you back into his shoulder. You chuckled at the action.

“Someone wants cuddles.”

He pulled a face. “Cuddles?”

You laughed and smacked his shoulder. “Idiot,” you managed to force out in between giggles, and he watched you, unimpressed. He flinched as you buried your head back into the crook of his neck, still shaking with laughter. Relaxed. Melted into the touch.

“You’re an idiot.”

Your laughed subsided into comfortable silence. He broke it.

“I’m sorry. We’ll find a way to resolve this.” He was referring to him and Vander. “We shouldn’t be upsetting Alice.”

You hummed, simply nestling into him. You could feel his heart thumping. “Thank you.”

“The things I do for you, hm?”

You raised your head, lips just barely brushing his jaw, as he pulled out a cigarette and placed it in between his lips before looking at you expectantly. You produced your lighter and flicked it open, watching as he held the end of the cigarette over the open flame you held out for him.

The lighter snapped shut as he tipped his head back to take a drag, and blew the smoke to the sky. His other arm rested around you comfortably.

“The things you do for me,” you laughed breathlessly, resisting the urge to kiss him senseless.

-

The arguments had not stopped.

Not only had Alice mentioned them to you at home, but Felicia had voiced her concerns during the every-now-and-then moment she’d really have a proper conversation with you. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” she’d whisper quietly. “They used to be really tight. And now…”

You didn’t press. It was a situation where you felt you weren’t welcome to meddle. So you took Alice home with nothing but a concerned purse of the lip, a sympathetic look, and a nervously quick-beating heart, stomach churning with dread.

Silco came to you less frequently, or maybe later than usual, usually in a sour mood. Despite his inconsistencies you stayed reliable, waiting for as long as he needed you to- even if he didn’t show up at all. If he did, his bad mood would lift within a few minutes. Surprisingly, he’d stopped talking about him and Vander’s arguments. And you no longer wanted to talk about them either.

Time passed. Felicia’s daughter was born. Things became more peaceful.

The sky has begun growing darker earlier, marking the beginning of winter. After another evening of Silco being a no-show, you slid off of the roof and made your way to the Last Drop.

The door creaking open, you frowned. It was almost empty, save for a frazzled looking Felicia trying to hush a baby in the corner. Panic started rising in your throat as you made your way to her.

“Felicia.” She looked up at you, and you say her face was twisted with worry. “Where is everyone?”

“Preparing.” Trying to hush Violet proved a futile task. You had to speak over her screams.

“Preparing for what? Where’s Vander? Why is Violet crying?”

Felicia screwed her eyes shut, and Violet’s meltdown subsided a little. “Nothing, just… there was an argument.”

You immediately dragged your hands across your face, stumbling back, immediately sick of what she was about to say. She ignored you and continued, shaking.

“They were both storming out when I got here. Everyone else is preparing for the uprising on the bridge.” Her voice dropped low. 

You whirled around and slammed your hands on the bar top, making her flinch. “What uprising?”

“There’s going- there’ll be an uprising on the bridge, soon.”

“And no one told me about this?” You were seething. Violet screeched louder, and you turned violently, putting your hands over your ears as Felicia shakily shushed her. 

“You aren’t part of the resistance. Heck- you’re barely even part of the Lanes.”

At her words you had to fight to keep the fury from bubbling over. Charging towards her, you grabbed her shoulders tight, nails digging into her skin.

“Where the fuck is Alice.”

“I don’t know,” she choked out. At this, you left out a muffled, terrified scream, swallowing it with the back of your hand.

“She isn’t meant to go outside,” you whispered, your hands sliding across your face to cover your mouth. Felicia looked at you, confused and scared. At your sudden silence even Violet had stopped making any noise, instead burying herself into her mother’s embrace.

“Why not? I mean, you were pretty adamant about it, but you never told us why,” she said carefully. 

You tore your hands from your face. “Because the enforcers could be looking for her!”

Felicia looked at you in shock.

Tears welled in your eyes as your hands shook. “She can’t go outside alone yet.”

Felicia didn’t say anything, just wrapped her hands further around Violet and curled over. You didn’t say anything back; your heavy, frantic footsteps echoed around the empty bar and the door slammed as you left to go search for your daughter.

The crowd in the street was heavy, and all going in one direction- towards the bridge. You pushed through, eyes frantically scanning the crowd. You knew you wouldn’t find her there, however. Passer-bys conversations drifted in and out of your ears.

“…commotion with the enforcers. I hope this won’t affect the rising…”

You turned and grabbed the woman by the shoulder. She looked at you in shock.

“What commotion?” You hissed. She didn’t say anything, frozen to the spot, when a man came and prised your hand off of her and pointed in a certain direction.

“They say they saw enforcers attacking a child,” he said gravely, “Just the street before the river.”

He didn’t have to say any more. You turned and fled.

This part of the undercity was more quiet. You marked the rushing of water- and remembered the first time you’d met Silco.

You could hear heavy breathing.

Enforcer masks.

Small whimpers.

Alice’s voice.

Panic and anger surged through you as you burst into the street.

“Let go of her!” You screamed.

The enforcer grabbed the back of your neck, shoving you into the wall. The second he released you, you lunged towards Alice, grabbing her and drawing her close. She was completely battered.

“Why are you doing this to her?” You cried, covering her ears. “She’s a child.”

The enforcer looked at you. “And who exactly are you?”

“I took her in,” you said fiercely, holding the shaking girl tighter. The Pilties looked at each other, and you recoiled, knowing you’d said the wrong thing. 

“You took her in, knowing that she was being chased by the law. You harboured a wanted child.” His voice was even.

“Child,” you gasped. “She’s a child.” You clasped your hands together. “Look, I-I didn’t know. Please just let her be-“

A kick rammed you against the wall. You lost grip on Alice, who was dragged up by the second officer. The first one grabbed you and put his hand over your eyes.

“Kill the girl,” he said.

“N-!” You opened your mouth to scream but he clamped his hand over your mouth. From in front of you, a simple crack, whimper, then a thud. You went limp. He dropped you to the floor, and you blinked blearily, shaking. Alice’s body lay before you.

You cursed under your breath, scrambling towards her, unaware of the eyes watching you.

“Leave her,” the mask-muffled voice said. “We got rid of what we needed to.” He looked up. “We’re needed at the bridge.”

Their heavy footsteps left the street, fading around the corner as you silently sobbed, shoulders shaking. Gathering Alice in your arms, you brushed her hair from her face.

“No,” you whispered. “No.” Your hand was warm at the back of her head, and when you withdrew it it was covered in blood. The word Alice said was barely audible. 

“Mom.”

This broke you, and you descended into a whirl of sobs. “No, no no no no.”

You didn’t know for how long you cried- you just knew it was well past the time you daughter grew cold in your arms. Ran dry of tears, you could feel unconsciousness calling you.

Another set of heavy footsteps down the street- only one person this time. You barely regarded it as you slipped into the darkness, curled over the corpse of one of the only two people you cared about.

[subway-boss-jericho]

Emmet and Ingo's Back Office from Steady Tracks Do Not Waver!

I've been holding on to this one to post on a bad day. guess who is learning how to 3d model. This bitch. my power is unlimited ST!Ingo getting hit with the 3D beam as soon as classes let up on me

more on the way soon (relatively)

Steady Tracks Masterpost

[tapakah0]

[captainkirkk]

When I started writing 'lessons in tea making', I set out to make it a longfic that following ATLA Book 2 and 3 in its entirety but now its been almost 5 years and I'm realising that I'm probably never going to get around to finishing this monster of a wip

HOWEVER, I do have around 15k of chapter 2 collecting dust in my google drive so.... what's everyone's opinion on authors uploading (signposted) unfinished chapters....

[stromuprisahat]

Six of Crows- Chapter 21 (Leigh Bardugo)

Busy life, isn't it?

If Kaz is seventeen, and joined the Dregs in twelve,

he'd have five years to PLAN and achieve all that. Except he wasn't arrested since fourteen,

so unless he fucked up big after one of his big targets already done, we have three years only. All while gaining trust of his boss and co-workers, making a name for himself, recruiting useful people he needs to get to know first and organizing such endeavours as rebuilding a whole fucking harbour, when already owning at least a part of the Crow Club?

This is a world of liars, merchants and cheats. It should take some time before he establishes himself enough for others to be willing to deal with him in a way ALL the risk won't be on his side.

Kaz allegedly managed way too much in a way too short time.

He either should've been written as older, a child from already established family or have an admitted supernatural time-managing skill alongside his superbrain and miraculous amount of luck. Not even being a prodigy guarantees success. Just look at the amount of failed "gifted" children on this hellsite.

He's so "lucky" he's hard to take seriously as an underdog he's presented as. If he can do so much with so little in such a short time without memorable setbacks, he "doesn't have it so bad".

[pharawee]

The official English translation of The Sign is now available to buy (and/or preview) on meb. I've downloaded the sample and it seems to be a good translation so far. I'll probably start reading it as soon as I'm done with the Pit Babe novel.

[joeover]

welcome to derry is about to be so crazy bc if you think about it, this is the first time there’s new It canon in 37 years. every other It adaption has been just that, an adaption of the novel. new ideas and characters are about to enter our beloved story and probably even have some effect on the characters we know and love 😶

bc andy muschietti loves a good cameo so i doubt he’ll be able to resist at least a nod to the losers club. 😭

you know what this means though… NEW IT LORE IN 2024 😍😍😍😍

[the-kr8tor]

Re-reading my notes on bdas 2 and I go "man I might've bit more than I can chew on this one" but my god i will have so much fun chewing this! I'd be gnawing with gusto.

You guys are not prepared for what I have in store for book 2

[tozierlvr]

ranking adaptations of the losers bc why not

bill 1) it (2017) 2) miniseries (kid) 3) book 4) it chapter two 5) miniseries (adult) ((ponytail.))

beverly 1) miniseries (adult) 2) it (2017) 3) book 4) miniseries (kid) 5) it chapter two

eddie 1) it (2017) 2) book 3) miniseries (kid) 4) miniseries (adult) 5) it chapter two

richie 1) it chapter two 2) book. 3) it (2017) 4) miniseries (adult) 5) miniseries (kid)

mike 1) book 2) miniseries (adult) 3) miniseries (kid) 4) it 2017 5) it chapter two

ben 1) book 2) miniseries (kid) 3) it 2017 4) miniseries (adult) 5) it chapter two

stanley 1) it 2017 2) book 3) miniseries (kid) 4) it chapter two 5) miniseries (adult)

[mazojo]

Haha noo Haku haha you’re too pretty to be a spy haaha

[chodzacaparodia]

Jujutsu Kaisen as Rick Riordan book chapter titles because why not PART 1

(Or rather Fushiguro Megumi as Rick Riordan book chapter titles because I love him so much)

Part 2

Haikyuu! Edition: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Blue Lock Edition: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

[wheels-of-despair]

Draw Me Like One of Your Dwarf Girls, Eddie Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie decides to work on his drawing skills, and accidentally awakens a monster in the process. Contains: Titanic references, female nudity, a brush with death. Word Count: 1.3k-ish

"Draw me like one of your dwarf girls, Eddie," you say in a sultry voice, trying your hardest not to laugh.

"What did I tell you about talking?" He pauses to give you a pointed look, since he's already told you to pipe down several times. You roll your eyes, and he returns to his drawing with a renewed vigor.

It's early 1998, and you've recently dragged your poor Eddie to a theater to see that damn Titanic movie everybody and their mother keeps raging about. All 3 hours of it. You may have neglected to mention the runtime when you bought the tickets. You owe him.

He survived, but was suddenly faced with the desire to "work on his people-sketching skills." Which of course meant it took him less than a week to convince you to strip and pose like Rose on the couch, wearing only that red guitar pick necklace he's had since high school.

You're stretched out and exposed and already bored. Two hours ago, he'd adjusted your hand a quarter of an inch this way, your knee a quarter of an inch that way, and you'd been instructed not to move.

Well, it felt like two hours, but it was really only about 30 minutes.

With nothing else to do, and being mildly disappointed that he didn't find your commentary amusing, you watch his eyes follow the pencil scratching across the paper you can't see. He's cute when he's concentrating. Tongue poking out, brow furrowed, that spark of creativity in his eye. It must be going well, because he smiles occasionally. He even giggled once. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably had something to do with a nipple. It was a little chilly.

"Just as I thought; it's a masterpiece."

"Are you done?" You'd only been in this position for an eternity.

"Oh yeah, this baby's getting framed." Ignoring you, he holds his sketch pad out to view it at an arm's length, beaming at his creation.

"Can I move now?!"

"Yeah, you can move."

You stretch your stiff limbs and get up off the couch, reaching for the flannel he'd discarded on a chair nearby, buttoning a few buttons as you pad over to where he sat admiring his work.

You place a hand on his back and look over his shoulder at the figure on his sketchbook. You're confused, but you can't take your eyes off of it. You can't think of anything to say. Until…

"What. The FUCK. Is THAT."

He looks up innocently and says, "What? I was just following instructions. You kept talking, figured I better listen."

You have no words.

You do, however, have a fucking BEARD in Eddie's drawing.

He sits there, looking up at you with a proud grin on his face, waiting for you to react.

You stare at him wordlessly, still in a state of shock.

Until he laughs at you. LAUGHS AT YOU.

Your brain begins to swirl furiously, until it flashes one word: KILL.

You clench your fists, and he begins to sense that you're not going to start laughing with him. His eyes widen, and he jumps out of his chair, vaults over the coffee table, and stands on the couch.

"I can explain," he says quickly, trying to sound calm, steps unsteady on the cushions.

You can explain too. Explain to the responding officers how one Edward James Munson met his gruesome demise.

"It's Tolkien."

You ignore him and advance slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Eyes unblinking. Blood boiling. Steam probably coming out of your ears. He jumps off the couch as you approach the coffee table.

"It's from a book!" He's walking backward, holding out his sketch pad like a lion tamer with a chair.

His eyes bulge as he hits something solid. You've backed him into a corner. Literally.

"Tolkien! Middle-earth! The Hobbit! Nerd shit!"

Nerd shit won't save you now, Munson. You narrow your eyes and prepare to go in for the kill. He panics.

"Dwarf women have beards! It was a joke! I'm sorry! I love you!"

The "I love you" makes you pause, just as you were about to pounce and slash your prey to pieces. The hell?

"What?" you ask, giving your head a slight shake in confusion.

"Dwarf women have beards. In the books. You said to draw you like a dwarf. It was a joke. I thought you'd know what it was."

"You thought I'd know some random detail from a book I haven't read in over a decade?"

"I mean, it's a pretty memorable detail…"

You roll your eyes, heave a sigh, and pinch the bridge of your nose. Why is this not surprising?

"So you're not gonna kill me?" He's still backed into his corner. You consider it for a moment, deciding that you've played with him enough for today.

"Not tonight, Munson."

He exhales and leans his head back against the wall.

"But I WILL get you for this," you threaten, pointing a finger at him. He nods, used to this constant back-and-forth game you'd both been playing for over a decade. He knew you'd never really hurt him, just like you knew he wouldn't hurt you either. It was just a game.

You turn to walk away, and hear him whisper to the abomination he's still clutching: "Don't worry baby, you're still gettin' framed."

You whip around, eyes flashing. He gulps. You step closer, making him lean further back into the wall. He's cute when he's scared.

"Give it."

He stares at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his.

"Give it," you repeat, holding out a hand and waiting for him to place his sketchbook into it.

Reluctantly, he hands it to you. You maintain eye contact as your fingers find the thick cover page, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at his ungodly creation again. You slam it shut and he flinches.

"What are you gonna do with it?"

Beat your nerdy ass to death with it.

Still clutching his sketch pad, you step back silently and gesture for him to walk on by with your free hand. He slowly peels himself off the wall and begins to move with an apprehensive look in your direction, and a thought occurs to you.

As he scurries past you, you smack him on the ass with his sketchbook. He whirls around with a yelp, hands clutching his cheeks. It's cardboard, you drama queen. You step closer and swing the book at his arm.

"You made me lay there for AN HOUR! While! You! Drew! That!" You punctuate each word with another smack of the sketch pad. He continues overreacting to each hit and falls to the floor with a wail when you finish yelling, clutching his imaginary wounds. You lift the book above your head with both hands, ready to finish him.

"It started out real! But I couldn't make it look like you! It wasn't pretty enough!" You graciously decide to let him continue, still holding the sketchbook in an attack position, just in case. "I tried," he explains calmly now, "but it wasn't working out, and then you said the dwarf thing, and I thought it would be funny. I'll make it up to you."

"Damn right, you will." You lower the book and release it. It lands on his chest with a light thud. He grins from his position on the floor. You step over him and make your way toward the bedroom.

"Starting now," you inform him from the hallway, not slowing or turning around. You hear him scramble to get up, knock something over, and curse before he hurries in your direction.

He's lucky he's cute.