#I actually think the closest 1-to-1 for her as an artist (as rough as it is to say) is K@nye

[dancefloors]

Comparing Harry and Taylor feels dumb, but he is the only other artist where I know the music inside out, so I will. Harry may have simple lyrics, but there is never a second where the listener is left bored. Harry paints with notes, melodies, and vocal layers, and it's because he isn't afraid to sacrifice his credit for something that is great, whereas Taylor feels like she needs to be the only person writing the song even when it's not good. It feels like Taylor would rather have a bad song with solo writing credit than a great song with 4-5 songwriters.

I don't think Harry is close to the kind of generational songwriting talent that T is at her peak but as the leading male pop artist at the moment I can at least appreciate his ability to carve out an album with artistic intent. Each song is its own story. And work with people he knows are better than him.

[elendsessor]

pictured here is a comment i got on a post i made on one of my sideblogs. now this actually kinda motivated me to go and look into something for no other reason than “yeah sure why the hell not.”

and thus i went down a mini rabbit hole.

this is referring to a post about smt 4, but i think they just mistyped smtv instead of iv—

the picture in question shown is this concept art for blasted tokyo:

now this pic mirrors that of where jonathan is in all the little dream/vision/whatever you wanna call them sequences prior to choosing a route. however…

the head of what i believe is supposed to be the statue of aquila or some other structure is different. blasted tokyo is full of rubble on the surface but none match the head from what i can remember (i may be wrong). even then, the guy pictured isn’t jonathan. next thing to question is “what if it’s jonathan’s beta design?” or if any other art for blasted tokyo matched the mystery man.

to the left is beta jonathan and to the right ends up being for the remaining underground districts and for pluto castle (home of the best boss in the game) + weird shadowy figures. again nothing matches up. there’s a really cool exterior shot that i don’t think is ever in the game tho. closest other character i could think of is kiyoharu.

originally though he was intended to wear the same outfit everyone else does (which contextually makes more sense and is something they should’ve stuck with).

so who is this guy? the answer is god knows. best guess i have at this point is an original design for either 1. a law hero similar to 1 and 2, since 4 was a bit back to basics compared to the previous two mainline entries or 2. one of the original concept designs for flynn/the mc. in a lot of the concept artwork displaying what represented the player, they mostly never resemble flynn. some end up just being random designs meant for npcs, armor, or were scraped concepts altogether. a good portion of them are just area concepts. 4 has a ton of world building and i would argue is more based in that than any of the other games.

in just the concepts for tokyo alone that’s the case. mikado concept art isn’t any different.

a lot of background concept art (such as for the weapons dealer, exterior shots of a few dungeons, rooms with npcs in them, etc) end up getting used for locations you can’t walk around in, since the free roam stuff is 3d modeled save for a couple assets. there’s no rough sketches available for most of the areas even in the art book, and that can definitely be the case for character concepts too. sometimes it’s easy to forget that an entire team works on art and not just a couple people, especially in 4’s case given how there’s a few guest artists. there are likely many concepts and pieces of art that have never been seen or are completely lost. any unnamed unknown character shown in these bits of art were likely meant to exist at some point and yet never did.

though gonna be honest this was just the perfect excuse to go looking through concept art again. (quick shoutout to veskscans since she’s uploaded scans of 4’s art book to a google drive (which is linked on her blog). many of the area concept artwork and early character designs are easy to find but smaller scale scenery not so much. she’s a goddamn hero.)

[hurricanewithmyname]

I posted 7,387 times in 2022

That's 387 more posts than 2021!

1,078 posts created (15%)

6,309 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ilicitaffairs

@snowonthe

@rainsoncornelia

@reputation

@missegyptiana

I tagged 1,217 of my posts in 2022

#text - 182 posts

#he lives in queue - 158 posts

#asks - 41 posts

#met gala 2022 - 29 posts

#harry styles - 23 posts

#abortion rights - 20 posts

#laura’s listening party - 18 posts

#ask game - 11 posts

#midnights spoilers - 9 posts

#goncharov - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#it’s so much ‘hey have you heard taylor swift is fatphobic’ and without even knowing or understanding people are just going ‘omg wow she’s

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

happy taylor day to those who celebrate which apparently does not include miss swift herself

563 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

#4

as things get even worse in ukraine please remember that online posts from individuals are not the same as vetted reports. yes there are individuals posting who are going to be able to be more accurate about what’s happening because it is actually happening to them and on-the-ground reports on social media have been huge in recent years in keeping the world informed during times of turbulence but!! please remember:

people can and WILL lie to get attention esp during a crisis - someone saying “i’m from ukraine” when you have no other evidence is not a reliable source, double if their profile (blog, etc) looks relatively new or only has a few unrelated posts

people only know what they know! people can report what’s happening to them in the context that they understand it - that doesn’t give a full picture of what’s happening to an entire country or even a single city

deliberate misinformation specifically by russia is a thing

GET. MULTIPLE. SOURCES. check at least 2-3 news sources ON TOP of social media posts - whatever threads seem to be aligning across all sources are probably the closest to the truth

being informed means being responsibly informed and it’s okay if you don’t have the bandwidth (time, emotional energy, etc) to check your info in the middle of the day. better to be silent than to spread misinformation so please please check before you post

665 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

#3

706 notes - Posted October 7, 2022

#2

“tumblr is dead this” and “tiktok swifties” that idk about y’all but i never loved this site more than after it died. the people still here are the absolute diamonds in the rough of swiftie fandom and i cherish each and every one of you. i’m handing you a fresh strawberry as we speak. i’m patting your hand. i’m leaving a cup of tea for you as you pass on your way

1,015 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

not to be on my debut shit but if you weren’t there (watching cmt in 2007) you don’t remember how debut should not have worked that’s not what country music WAS then. it was just post-9/11 so new artists were all patriotism and country boys in trucks drinking and idolizing their fathers and war and occasionally being sad about a lost love and girls in short shorts looking wife-eyed and loving Jesus and occasionally being sad about a dead love. like taylor in her sparkly dresses with her big hair singing about high school and unrequited puppy love wasn’t designed to work but it DID because young women went absolutely feral over this gangly blond in prom dresses who sang about things they understood, things they felt and taylor was such a risk but she proved her mettle and then everyone proceeded to make her keep doing it for another sixteen years even though as a literal teenager she made a genre fit her not the other way around and i have to chew glass every time i think about it

1,104 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[scarletwidowaf]

broadway, baby. (part 1)

Florence pugh x female Reader

Summery: reader is a singing waitress in a new York restaurant (like in glee) where many famous people go to, and one night the little women cast are are there and R is their waitress.

Warnings: there's some cursing and harassment. Its not revolve around it but its there.

A\N: im soft for florence pugh and this is a complete shit.

masterlist

Credits: Glee Gif Credit • Florence Gifs Credit

“I'm just a Broadway Baby, walking off my tired feet, Pounding Forty Second Street to be in a show. Broadway Baby, learning how to sing and dance, waiting for that one big chance to be in a show.” - Cast of follies

Life can be hard and some days can be rough, especially in your line of work where people competed for the spotlight on a daily basis. but that's life and that’s the road you chose to walk through.  And it's alright, after all, what's life without a spark? A movie without a breaking point? or a shift at Clayton's without drama?

This was one of these days, the kind of days who kept you on an edge as your body and mind both ached for a break.

'Just roll with it. just a few hours for your day off.' You silently said to yourself.

Being a young artist in New York was a challenge you’ve taken on yourself, luckily for you working at "Clayton's" was a good way to start a career.  most people who started working there were young talented artist who were determined to make an impression over the industry. The place was always packed with many famous people, from actors to singers and producers. So, in many ways, working in "Clayton's" could be a ticket to Broadway or the music industry. And that was the reason you moved there in the first place.

You tried the traditional way, but after months of trying to get into college and fix your past mistakes, like your high school career, you decided that this path wasn’t for you. no matter what you did or how hard you tried your ADHD still managed to kick your ass. So, that’s how you ended up as a singing waitress in NY. You liked your job, truly. You liked singing and dancing and meeting cool people along the way, but sometimes it was just too much.

"You look like shit" Aaron said from his spot at the bar.

Aaron was a sweet guy and probably the only straight person in your group of friends. He was charming and talented and most importantly; he was the first friend you got in NY.

Aaron pulled his long brown hair into a bun as he chuckled at you. You huffed in frustration in return.

"Thanks" you muttered as he passes you a mug with coffee, hoping to help you get a grip before the restaurant opens.

"You need to rest" he said. "properly" 

"that’s overrated" you joked and took a sip.

You felt an hand on your shoulder and you turned around to meet your friend's stern gaze. "You, okay?" she asked

"Always" you answered Mackenzie's question and she raised her eyebrow, knowing full well you were lying. 

"we should sing as a warm up!" David, another one of your coworkers and Aaron's twin brother said.

"Let's not" Aaron said as he rolled his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm. 

You laughed quietly as the two started bickering. Mack and you glanced at each other knowingly. Both of you already know who will win in the stupid argument.

15 minutes later, after a group warm up and Aaron's dramatic sighs 'Clayton's' was open for business.

It was a nice evening, not too full, not too loud. And most importantly, not too many known faces.

Of course, you liked to have famous people on your shifts, and it could obviously be a game changer for you but it can get intense at times and you want in the mood. Seriously, how can you be the only one who found singing "defying gravity' in font of Idina Menzel as a very stressful experience?? You were terrified by the idea you'll fuck up in front of the original singer- and make a total fool out of yourself. 

When 10 pm rolled around, every opinion you had about the evening flew out the window. at this point, the restaurant was full with costumers and some known faces as well, and you found yourself holding every inch of you together as you approach the table who was occupied by the one and only Meryl Streep, and some fellow little women cast members.  

 *rule number 1 of working at Clayton's: don't make costumers feel uncomfortable. Don't annoy the costumers, don't ask for autographs if they're famous and generally treat them as normal and respectfully as you can. *

 "Hello, my name is Y/N and ill be your waitress for tonight" you introduced yourself with a small smile. The women smiled at you brightly.

"How does it work" Meryl held the tablet with a puzzled expression. "Am I that old?" She joked

"Barley" One of the other women, Emma fucking Watson, said. 

"I know it looks complicated-" you told them as you took the tablet from Meryl's hand."-But it's pretty simple, actually, I promise. As you can see the top part of the tablet is divided into two sections: The right one who says 'ask for a waiter'- which means that your waiter- which in this case, me, is busy- probably performing at the moment, and you can ask for a different waiter." You said with an ease, knowing the explanation by heart.

"The left section says 'ask for my waiter' which is a pretty simple one to understand... I guess- if you'll need me for whatever reason, you can press it and it'll page me. Feel free to use it."  You said with a smile as you scanned their faces, making sure they understand the first part.

"And the bottom section?" Saoirse asked. 

"The bottom section is the 'refill' sections. It will get into validation only after ill place your order in my own tablet and send to the kitchen." You explained as you gestured to your own tablet. "It's pretty useful, the point of it is that you can ask for a refill without having to social with me. Its awesome"

You noticed one of them, Florence pugh, scanning the tablet with a small smile- as she listened to your explanation. She was absolutely a sight for sore eyes, that's for sure.

"Thats pretty cool" she said and you nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I got really excited over it when I started working here" you admitted awkwardly "most importantly- When a section isn't relevant its will be grey instead of in color so you won't get confused. Like, for example - if You haven't ordered anything yet you can't get a refill, for the obvious reason. or if I'm not performing you can't ask for another waiter... which means you're stuck with me for the time being" you finished with a small chuckle.

"I don't think any of us mind that" Florence smiled and the others agreed. The blonde smiled at you again and you blushed slightly. "You're singing, right?" she asked out of the blue, just when you were about to leave and let them look through their menus. 

"Yeah, i do. In a few minutes, actually" 

"Thats cool! Good luck" she smiled and you wondered if Emma, who set the closest to you, could hear how fast your heart's beating. 

"Thank you" you said with a smile and turned around to the stage. 

__________________

"you paged? I'm guessing you guys ready to order then" You said as you approached their table after your performance. 

"YOU WERE SO GODD!" Florence said excitedly.

"Thank you" you blushed slightly. 

What. The. Fuck. Y/N?! You scolded yourself.

The others joined into the conversation with their own compliments and you thought you'd die when Meryl Streep, the legend herself, complimented you.

After another few moments the conversation calmed downed and moved to the next, and most important topic: the food. You tried your best to not blush under Florence's soft gaze and keep your focus on the other members of her table as they consulted you about the dishes, but damn, that was hard.  luckily for you it didn’t take long and a few minutes later, their order was sent to the kitchen. 

 The next hour and a half weren't much different. you sang and placed orders, you smiled to costumers and even pretend to laugh at some old man's joke. And maybe (just maybe) you glanced over to Florence every now and then.

The thing about Clayton's is that apart for the famous people who visit there frequently, it also contains many of the rich and the snobs of New York, so you weren't surprised when you got paged from a table who was occupied by two guys with fancy clothes and their parents credit card.

"Hey" one of them said to you as you approached them. 

"hey, welcome to Clayton's! You're David's table, right?" You said and pointed at your friend who started his own performance.

"Yeah, the fag one" the other guy said and your smile fell.

Take a deep breath, Y/N. It's not worth it. 

"I see you guys already ordered a few minutes ago" you said as you checked your tablet.

"Yeah" the asshole confirmed. 

"Okay, in that case, how can I help you?" You asked politely as you could. 

"we would like to get the check." The first guy said politely as he pulled out a few bills from his wallet. "Keep the change" he said as you took it and made sure it was enough.

"Thank you" you smiled politely and made a mental note to give David his well-earned tip.

"my brother want to know if you're single" the asshole said and the nicer guy looked at his with his eyes wide.

Shit.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a relationship" you lied after a moment, hoping the lie will spare both his feeling and any more questions in the subject.

The guy nodded in understanding but on the other hand, the other guy didn’t seem to get the massage.  

"I'm sure he won't mind sharing" the asshole said and you felt sorry for the poor guy for being related to this ass.

"What the fuck Chad" the nice guy said as chad smirked at you.

"yeah... that’s not going to happen." You glared at him "have a great weekend tho" you gritted out and turned around to leave.

you were taken by surprise when you felt chad's hand on your ass. Again, what the fuck?!

"What the fuck is wrong with you' asshole" you gritted out and moved away from him. 

Don't make a scene. He's not worth it. 

"C'mon-" he started to say as he got up. You moved away, knowing you were cornered since the place was full, the lights were deemed and the music was loud. 

"Don't touch me" you said and moved away; you're back hitting an empty table who stood nearly.

"Hey what's going on here?" You heard and turned to catch Florence walking to you.

If a look could kill chad would’ve been dead. that’s for sure. It's like the sweet and excited Florence had left and a different, intimidating (and hot) version of her took her space and so help you god, you were glad she was on your side.

"Nothing! we were just leaving, really" Frankie said.

"None of your business" brad said and Florence raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow, daring him to cross her.

"I see" she said "well, I'm sure y/n won't mind my intruding" 

'Thank god for Florence Pugh.' You thought.

Before chad could press the subject any further David, who just finished his performance, got there. You were sure he noticed that something was happening.

"what's going on here?" he asked after he scanned the situation quickly.

"nothing as I said to your friend, we were just leaving" Frankie said again. 

he didn’t want to draw any negative attention, just like you, and thankfully for the both of you, not many people noticed the situation.

This time chad didn't answer, he just glared at Florence and you while his brother pulled him away from the place.

"so, are you going to tell me what happened?" David asked Florence and you after the two left.

Florence looked at you, waiting for you to answer him. 

"Nothing" you lied. "it's okay David, you can go" you promised your friend. David looked at you with his 'I done believe you' expression, but he didn't press it any further. He just nodded before he turned around and left. 

 Rule number 2: do not make a scene under no circumstances. At Clayton's, everything you do while you're on the clock is practically showcased. You slip? you fall? you sing out of tune? Its under a spotlight, everyone can see that and everyone will have something to say about it. Thats the thing about this place.  most people who started there and moved on to bigger things as Broadway or Hollywood were practically trained to keep their best poker face, act on the demand or pretend that everything is okay when it was clearly not. 

 "You should go back to your table" you said to Florence 

she looked at you with an unreadable expression before she went back to her table. You didn't have much time to read into it since a few minutes later you found yourself at her table, printing their check and having a small friendly conversation with the women. You smiled at them as they left before you turned your tablet off and went to cover for Aaron at the bar.

 "I thought you guys left" You said with a smile when the blonde approached you a few minutes later. 

"Why did you lie?" Florence asked with the same unreadable expression from earlier.

Okay. No smiling then.

"I didn’t" you pulled out two shot glasses and filled them with tequila. The blonde gave you a 'are you kidding me' kind of look and you couldn't help but to chuckle. "I didn't see a reason to make a scene over nothing" you explained and downed one of the shots.

"It wasn't nothing Y/N" she said before taking the other glass. 

"its fine. I'm fine. He didn’t do anything " you said as she downed her shot.

"Yeah, because I was there" she argued.

"I can handle guys like him. Seriously, at this point it might as well be a part of my job" 

"you're not helping yourself"

"I liked you better smiling" you chuckled as she glared at you.

"I'm sure you did"

"shut up" 

"How's your back?" She asked/

The blonde definitely didn't seem convinced about the chad situation but you were just grateful for the change of subject.

"It will be alright"

"Good"

"I appreciate your worry, truly. But I'm fine and I really don't want to hold you back here over it" you said  

"Who said I was worried" she smirked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, you don't?" You played along 

"Nope"

"Then why are you still here? Its almost 12 am, don't you have something better to do" you teased her 

"no. Do you?" She turned the question and you laughed. 

"I guess not - considering the fact I work here and I'm still on clock"

"Oh, please we both know this place is about to close" she argued your logic

"True" you admitted

"So, if you have nothing better to do, and you don't, would you like to go out with me? You kinda owe me after I saved your ass earlier"

"Uh, and here I thought you did that as an act of kindness" you joked. A small smile playing on your lips.

"Ew no" she said and You laughed. "Well?" Florence pressed with a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, why not. It's not like I have something better to do" 

"Just what I wanted to hear" she joked.

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian - “Always and Forever”

Summary: After the death of their daughter Grace, Kurt and Sebastian drift apart. Kurt wraps himself up in his grief so tightly he starts to push Sebastian away, and Sebastian, feeling himself shoved aside when he needs Kurt most, cheats. They make the decision to start over, to leave New York City and their pain behind, and start over again in a house Upstate. Sebastian buys Kurt a "fixer upper" and gives him free reign. While redecorating the room that will be his studio, Kurt comes across something interesting underneath the wallpaper. It starts to become an obsession for Kurt - an obsession that begins to replace Kurt's love for his husband, which Sebastian is holding on to by a thread. Can Kurt and Sebastian break through the pain and the hurt and find a way to fall in love again?

Notes: Inspired by the Klaine advent drabble prompt "ache". So this is a story I started a while ago, but stopped after chapter 4 because it started to get a little too real. But I’ve started revising, and now I’m ready to finish it.

Chapter 1 (3197 words)

“God! That traffic was insane, wasn’t it?” Sebastian complains, pulling off the highway and onto the less congested road that leads to the heart of Manhasset.

Kurt mutters in agreement, but he barely noticed. His right temple has been glued to the passenger side window the entire trip. Eyes pointed skyward, he watched the clouds pass by as they drove, counted the trees, followed a flock of birds as they flew off to warmer climes far, far away.

Away from here, the way Kurt wishes he could.

“I called ahead to turn the gas on. And the electricity... ” Sebastian has been rambling about nothing for the whole hour and forty-five-minute drive, filling the tense air of the Navigator with verbal static. “We’re gonna want to air the place out for a few hours. The realtor told me it stinks like mold but that there isn’t any actual mold in the house. I hired two separate contractors to go through the place anyway and make sure. I wasn't going to take the guy's word for it. He struck me as a sandwich short of a picnic. I mean, you should have seen him, Kurt! He was wearing a purple paisley tie and brown loafers with a grey suit. And not like royal purple. That would have worked. But puce! Jesus Christ!” He chuckles. It bleeds into a nervous cough. “I didn’t say anything, but it would have been nice if you were there to give him some subtle pointers. Or not so subtle. You know how much I love seeing you in action. Oh, and we'll have to go over our insurance policy. I’m having a second independent appraiser… ”

“Are we there yet?” Kurt interrupts, preferring to focus on how the changing leaves mute the skyline than on a single word coming out of his husband’s mouth. Not that he could catch a one the way they’re sprinting off his tongue like lemmings off a cliff.

The trees soothe Kurt, smooth the rough edges of this bumpy ride. They grow differently out here than in the city: springing up in rows, displaying their fall colors, blending one into the other like an ever-changing river - red tree, yellow tree, brown tree, gold tree… 

Their daughter Grace would call out the colors on their long car rides Upstate, conjuring rhymes where there were none. They roll through his memory in her singsong voice.

Green tree… uh... lean tree!

Kurt smiles, clutching on to the sound of her voice.

He's terrified of the day he'll forget what her voice sounds like.

“Just… uh… just a few more blocks,” Sebastian replies, his attempt at chitchat cut short by his husband’s impatient tone. Despite his infinitely expressive voice, Kurt only uses three tones nowadays - angry, impatient, and indifferent. Sebastian hasn’t learned how to avoid any of them, but he hates Kurt’s indifferent tone the most. “Not too far.”

“Good. Because I’m tired of sitting in this stupid seat.” Kurt switches positions, massaging his hip for emphasis. 'Tired of sitting in this stupid seat.' That's what he said. But he meant, 'tired of being stuck in here with you.' 

And Sebastian knows it.

Sebastian turns down two streets that spiral together tighter and tighter until he and Kurt are locked in to their new neighborhood.

Locked in to their decision to move here.

“Here it is.” Sebastian pulls up to the curb at the point before the street turns into a cul-de-sac.

Kurt sits up slowly to accommodate his stiff spine and numb ass. Looking around, he sighs in frustration. “Here what is? There are five houses on this block. Which one is it?”

“Guess.” When Kurt sighs again, Sebastian says, “I’ll give you a hint – it’s one of these three,” and motions to the houses on Kurt’s right. Kurt rolls his eyes but turns to the houses closest. They all appear relatively identical – three floors with a pointed roof and a square porch, reminiscent of a gingerbread house. They probably have basements – a huge selling point in this vicinity. But they don’t call them basements Upstate. They call them cellars. Somehow, the word cellar is more refined, and therefore more acceptable than having a dull, run-of-the-mill, drafty basement.

Need that cellar so you can have the most expensive cabernet on the market on hand in case we need to drunkenly judge Sally Jones’s latest highlight fiasco.

“She should have gone with lowlights, Sharon. (sip) Haven’t I been saying that, Kayla? (sip) Haven’t I been saying that she should have stuck with lowlights? But only around her face. (sip) Ha-ha-ha-ha! Please, pass the brie.”

Kurt spent a good portion of his life living in a basement bedroom, so he’s not above the word. But he remembers a time back in high school when he thought that was the person he would grow up to be. He’d start out as one of the New York elite, then become an Upstate snob. When his kids (two of them – a boy and a girl) were grown and gone, he’d start an artists’ colony. He'd retire to a lighthouse, isolate himself in obscurity while being ironically jaded at the world.

Well, he's nearing forty, and he is jaded, but for entirely different reasons.

The house at the curve in the cul-de-sac is painted a sea green Kurt isn’t thrilled with. But that can be remedied with a bucket of paint and some elbow grease. From its position, it probably gets the bulk of the noon sun. 

There goes their electric bill. 

Kurt knows Sebastian doesn’t care about trivial things like finances, but just because they have the money to spend doesn’t mean they should shovel it out the window. Plus, there's their carbon footprint to think about. But more importantly, there goes his fair skin, which will freckle at every meal while he does nothing other than sit at the kitchen table.

No, thank you.

The house beside it is in a better position, slanted away from direct sunlight. But it’s painted a slate blue that comes across as too harsh considering the neighborhood’s neutral color scheme. Sebastian should know better than to see that house and say, “Yes. That’s it. That’s the one,” unless the inside looks like the Palace of Versailles.

The last house is also blue, but this blue borders on pale grey, a similar shade to his father’s house in Lima. A maple tree has grown through the pavement in front, shading the house and shedding its red-gold leaves all over the front yard. 

And this house has a porch swing. 

He and Sebastian used to talk about owning a home with a porch swing. It became a prerequisite for the home they wanted to retire in. Kurt pictured sitting on their swing side by side in the early mornings, sipping coffee and watching the sunrise.

Sebastian, on the other hand, talked about having sex on the thing and scaring the neighbors.

Same planet, different worlds.

“It’s this one,” Kurt guesses, gesturing to the blue-grey house. “The one with the swing. Isn’t it?”

“Don’t sound too excited,” Sebastian jokes but warily, afraid of what the fallout might be if Kurt doesn’t like it. Sebastian has been climbing a tenuous ladder to make his husband happy. One misstep and he'll plummet back to the bottom, with no certainty that Kurt will let him try to climb up again. It’s his own damn fault, Sebastian reminds himself as they get out of the vehicle. He did this to them, so he’ll let Kurt lash out, let him bare his teeth and his claws, let him dig in with both hands and rip.

Sebastian deserves it.

He leads Kurt up the walkway in silence, past the tree and the swing. He unlocks the front door and pushes it open, standing back so Kurt can be the first one over the threshold. Kurt takes his time, poking his head in first, then taking a hesitant step. This is an all-or-nothing moment for him. In his heart, once he walks inside, there's no turning back.

He sets his foot down, rests his weight on it, and a dozen memories come flooding back: the house he lived in with his mom and dad, the house he and his dad moved into when his dad remarried, the dorm rooms he suffered from high school to college.

The first night he spent in Sebastian's penthouse, the excitement of feeling like he'd found his true home.

The house he dreamed of raising Grace in. 

In the end, they stayed in the penthouse for convenience. He regrets not getting her an actual house with a yard and a swing.

Like this one.

The irony.

The room lists, Kurt's head swims, but he wraps his arms around himself and doesn't let it show. He focuses on the here and now. He's taken a step. He just needs to take another. And another. Keep going. Keep moving forward, or else he'll crumple to the ground.

And Sebastian will rush to catch him.

Kurt would rather bury himself under the porch.

Kurt breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, relies on a cold and detached demeanor to help him instead of the strong arms of his husband.

This house has a different feel from the open floor plan of the penthouse they've been living in since college. It's cramped around the corners, with a lot more shadows and a lot less noise. Sebastian likes that better. He’s an Ohio native, same as Kurt. But unlike Kurt, he considers himself a country boy. Even though Sebastian built his identity around becoming a state's attorney like his father, he loved the quiet life: wide-open spaces, blue skies, unhurried, and just plain normal. 

Kurt saw Ohio as a cage he couldn't wait to break free from.

Sebastian could have bought Kurt any house he wanted. In that vein, Sebastian feels like a heel for jumping on this one without consulting Kurt first. He reasoned that he'd been the one house hunting, not Kurt. So when a contact told him that the owner of this house, a house Sebastian had had his eye on for a while, was finally selling, it seemed too perfect, especially considering the timing.

Sebastian bent over backward to rescue it from escrow.

Kurt didn't want to leave the city, but it was full of too much pain for him to handle, too many memories, friends and acquaintances who had yet to hear the news, and those who constantly offered their condolences. Few people greeted him anymore without their smiles dropping and the words, “I’m so sorry,” coming out of their mouths, as if joy shouldn't exist around him anymore. 

It made his head, his heart, and his soul ache.

Kurt loved New York City, but there was nothing left for him there but the constant hollow thud he felt whenever he saw something that reminded him of their angel Grace. School would be starting soon. All of her friends will be moving on to the fifth grade. But his daughter...

Life ended for her too soon.

“Here.” Sebastian reaches for Kurt’s hand, but Kurt reflexively pulls it away, slipping his hands into his pockets to cover for his flinching from Sebastian’s touch. Sebastian should be used to it by now, but he isn’t. “Let me show you why I think you’re going to love this house.”

Sebastian jogs up the stairs to the next level. Kurt follows a few steps behind. When he reaches the top, he sees three doors. They pass the first two without mention. Sebastian opens the last.

“Here.” Sebastian crosses to the opposite side and throws open one of two windows, filling the musty space with the crisp bite of autumn. “I thought this room could be your new studio.”

Sebastian knows him too well. The room is perfect. Even at dusk, it’s flooded with natural light. It looks out over the rooftops of the other houses, giving him a view of the surrounding forests and orchards stretching way past the highway. With a little TLC, it could look just like his studio in their penthouse.

Or he can turn it into something new.

Start with a clean slate.

“What are the other two rooms?” Kurt asks offhandedly. He doesn't need to. 

He knows what the other rooms are. 

There are only two rooms they can be.

“A bathroom and the master bedroom,” Sebastian answers, watching his husband stroll across the floor.

“So this would have been… ?”

“A spare? A guest room?” Sebastian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to find an easy groove to stand in.

Kurt frowns. No. It would have been Grace’s bedroom if she were still with them. Kurt was trying to get his husband to acknowledge that. Cruelly. But if she were with them, Sebastian wouldn’t have cheated, their marriage wouldn’t be falling apart, and they wouldn’t be running away from their problems.

“I guess I could put a foldout bed in here,” Kurt throws out as he estimates the space.

“You can if that’s what you want,” Sebastian agrees. “Or you’re just saying that to hurt me, which, if you are, you’ll be happy to know, it’s working.”

“I’m not saying that to hurt you,” Kurt eloquently lies. “I’m being practical. I’m not going to have easy access to the Vogue workshop if I live two hours away. If I expect to get a new line started, I’m going to have to pull long hours.”

Sebastian scrutinizes his husband, who’s doing his best to avoid looking at him. “You’re… thinking of starting a new line? You didn’t mention that.”

Kurt shrugs. “Did I have to?”

“No. I mean, I wasn’t sure that you would go back to designing so soon after.” 

"After?" Kurt tilts his head inquisitively but still makes no eye contact.

"After... moving. There's going to be a lot to do here. I thought you'd give yourself a year. Maybe more." Sebastian answers so quickly, Kurt wonders if he'd practiced. They talk in code, this whole conversation a carefully choreographed tango through a labyrinth of knives.

Sebastian didn't mean after moving. He meant after the death of their daughter. Kurt practically spent every spare second he wasn’t designing for work designing with her. Kurt has been a designer since high school. Aside from music, it's his passion.

Sebastian feared Grace's death might sever those harp strings.

"I think you underestimate me. Besides, you’re considering going back to working in the city after… ” 

Pivot, walk walk, close.

The dance changes. They switch places, and Kurt leads.

Kurt isn't talking about them moving or Grace.

Kurt means after Sebastian cheated. 

Kurt only agreed to move out of the city and live in a house he's never seen to keep Sebastian away from the man he's convinced will become too big a temptation to resist the next time they get into any kind of argument. Granted, it took their daughter dying for Sebastian to cheat, but Kurt figures it’ll keep getting easier from now on to come up with an excuse. 

Can't agree on where to go for dinner? Have a huge blowout over which cards to send out for Christmas? That's it! I'm sticking my dick in someone else!

“Anyway, I wouldn’t want to wake you by crawling into bed at four in the morning, not when you have to be at work at six,” Kurt finishes when he’s let that dig soak in long enough.

“I’m not going back to work for a while, remember? That’s what a leave of absence is. And even if I was, why would I mind you waking me?” Sebastian risks a grin. “In fact, I was thinking that it might be nice to get back to what we used to do in the mornings before work. I miss that.”

Sebastian holds his breath while he sees how that remark lands. He waits for Kurt to look at him. Kurt hasn’t been able to look at him, really look at him, since hungover Sebastian came home in a taxi the morning after, clothes ruined, their marriage officially in the gutter. Grace passed away six months ago, which means he’s been waiting for a while. 

He’s still waiting. 

“This isn’t all about you,” Kurt reminds him, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

Kurt didn't yell. But that doesn't mean he's not furious.

“I know,” Sebastian says softly. He rubs his cold hands together, wishing he could stick them underneath his husband’s thick, button-down sweater, and press his palms against Kurt’s skin. A year ago, Kurt would have squealed, “Bas! Your hands are freezing!” But he would have wrapped his arms around himself and held on, would have let Sebastian lean in for a kiss, would have fallen for the line, “Now that my hands are warm, maybe you can help me warm up a few other things.”

Then they would have made love on the wood floor with the door open.

If only he could make Kurt laugh the way he used to.

Then maybe Kurt would love him again.

But going by his husband’s expression, dreary as the olive sweater he holds closed with one hand at the neck, Sebastian knows that now is not the time.

“Is this what you need to make you happy?” he asks. If only it were that simple. If only a house, or a car, or a vacation could turn back the clock and erase everything that happened.

Erase everything Sebastian did, and bring their daughter back.

Kurt doesn't answer right away. He's not purposefully keeping Sebastian in suspense. He couldn't care less what's going on in Sebastian's head. This is his future he's considering. 

He's going to take his time.

He circles the room, contemplating the echo of his footsteps on the roughly finished wood, debating whether or not it's a sound he wants to hear for the rest of his life. If not, is it worth putting in the time to fix it? 

He traces the path of sunlight as it travels across the wall. That brings a new detail to his eye - a torn corner of wallpaper above the open window revealing a word underneath.

Darling.

Kurt eyes it from a distance, tries not to pay too much attention to it in case Sebastian is behind it. It doesn’t look like it was written recently. It's more than likely part of the pattern underneath. But leave it to Sebastian to try to woo his husband back with something syrupy like that. 

Something hopelessly romantic.

Something he thinks Kurt will fall for.

“No,” Kurt answers honestly, re-examining the fading wallpaper, the scuffed floors, the peeling ceiling. His gaze glances his husband’s face and settles on the dust-streaked window. He stares out at the sky, the clouds, the trees, the birds flying wild and free. He’s never going to be able to fly away like that, so he might as well accept this cage he's been given. It's what he's supposed to do, after all. “But it’s worth a try.”

He has little else left to lose.

[apothecarinomicon]

Spring week 1 part 1

I’m not quite sure how to begin.

I’m not typically one for journaling but it would appear to be part of the gig, as it were. I found this book—the one I’m writing in, heavy and musty and leather-bound—sitting on the table when I arrived, open to a blank page. There are at least a thousand pages filled before it, and no matter how many blank pages I flip past this one I can’t reach the back cover without closing the book entirely.

Mòrag told me things that present themselves for investigation here tend to be worth exploring, and if my gut tells me what’s right not to stray from its guidance. But I’m getting ahead of myself—you don’t even know who I am.

My name is Fionn Gill, and I’m a witch. I know, I know, but I don’t get into all that “warlock” “wizard” shit. It’s just a way to separate and belittle the same practice based solely on the gender of the practitioner, in my opinion. My specialty lies in potion-making, though I’m not very experienced. I’ve really only just finished my training—I’m from Huntsmanland and they’re not nearly as magically-inclined there as they are in High Rannoc. This is the first part of the country I’ve visited other than my tutor’s homestead and I must say, it hasn’t made the most stellar impression.

My tutor Edith received a letter stating that services would be required in the town of Greenmoor, and since the letter didn’t specify her services, she sent me to take care of it. I don’t know if she expected it to be an indefinite position, but here we are.

I didn’t bring a lot with me—just enough for the journey. It was about all I could carry walking. I arrived in Greenmoor with just about the clothes on my back, hoping they had an apothecary of their own so I could get this over with.

I’ve never really been one for small towns, and nor do they have much love for me. I’ve always thought I was meant for adventure—movement, action, peril, all of it. Small town life just feels so… stagnant. Nothing changes, no one grows or changes or has anything interesting to talk about. It’s enough to drive you mad.

Not to mention the natural suspicion of outsiders. I could see it on Mòrag McKinney’s face, even as she greeted me at the edge of town in her official capacity as mayor. Her hair was done up in a huge bun of thick braids on top of her head—a hairstyle with a formality at odds with her armored clothing.

She seemed surprised when I told her I was the witch. That’s not uncommon—like most intellectual and healing work, witchcraft is traditionally the domain of women. Even in the relatively forward-thinking country of High Rannoc, I tend to get some variation on ‘oh, how progressive!’ when I tell people my vocation. Often if you get a man doing witchcraft, his neighbors will whisper certain things about him. My neighbors back home were whispering those things about me anyway, so that wasn’t much of a hurdle to me.

Mòrag (she insisted I call her by her first name once we’d been properly introduced) gave me a brief tour of Greenmoor. It is, to put it lightly, tiny. I’d estimate a population around fifty. Near everyone has a job that serves an internal function to the community, with maybe the exception of the innkeeper. There are blacksmiths, miners, a carpenter, a tanner… she didn’t indicate any artists or poets or anything of that sort to me, which was disheartening. Even when I thought I would only be here briefly, I was hoping to enjoy the finer things the locals had to offer. The closest this town comes is a library, but I sorely doubt they have any kind of collection of works by local authors.

Mòrag pointed out all the magical resources in town, and some of them impressed me—the lunar tower and ritual circle in particular looked useful. She did not show me any apothecary, and following her aforementioned advice, I took that to mean there wasn’t one. Can’t wait to go out and experience the joys of foraging in the wilderness myself.

Once we’d gone through the entire village, she showed me to the cottage where I’ll be staying. It’s a little ways away from the town proper, down a walking path through some trees. It’s little more than a one-room thing, with only the washroom closed off from the rest of the space. The walls and door are made of dark wood, and the outside still has bark attached in many places. The roof is sloped and overgrown with moss and ivy. Inside the main room there is a bed, a large set of shelves which ought to have reagents and potion-making materials on them but are mostly bare, and a table on which this book sits. The washroom has a tub and a latrine—no plumbing to be found. Out back sits the remains of a garden, only one plot of which looks salvageable. A ways back into the trees there’s a creek. Most of the rest of the clearing is in the early stages of becoming overgrown, with trees and bushes and flowers starting to stretch themselves out and remembering how to be wild.

Mòrag told me the witch who was here before me was a bit of a recluse. No one in town knew very much about her, and she seemed to prefer it that way. They came to her for her healing potions and never made it past small talk and kept inviting her to parties and festivals even though she never attended. And then one day nearly everyone in town woke up with a gift from her—the farmers received her animals, the barkeep her ferments, the innkeeper and bakers her crops. As the townspeople tallied their gifts they realized it amounted to nearly everything she owned. They went together to her cottage to ask her why she’d given it all away, and found her cottage—this cottage—empty. The ensuing search turned up no body, no note, not a shred of evidence to speak of. It was as if she’d disappeared into thin air. As the townsfolk talked and wondered what had happened, they quickly realized no one knew her well enough to provide any real insight. They couldn’t even come to a consensus on what her name was.

They had quickly moved on to discussing the more pressing issue: the town was lacking a healer. The general store owner had worked with my tutor Edith in years prior (Edith loved to tell stories of the time she spent pursuing the culinary arts). Thus, the letter and thus, my presence.

Mòrag told me she hoped I might be more engaged in the community than my predecessor. I decided to refrain from telling her not to get her hopes up, and instead expressed my confusion: I’d thought this was a single gig, that I was to heal someone of their illness and then leave.

She disabused me of that notion with rather more intensity than I think was warranted.

She told me that unless my predecessor reappeared, I was all they had. She said Edith had spoken highly of my abilities in her return letter (I doubted that—Edith never spoke highly of anyone). She told me I would receive a base pay of 20 silver per cure to start, and that if I did the townsfolk well and they grew to like me, they’d most certainly be willing to pay more. She told me that the folks of Greenmoor were good people, even if they were a bit disaster-prone and some of them could make good use of a little more common sense.

And, well, how do you say no to that?

When I asked where I would be getting my materials, she told me the areas surrounding Greenmoor were rich in natural resources. So it will be as I feared. I’m glad I brought my off-road boots.

Mòrag left me to get settled in and I immediately took stock. There are no reagents on the shelves (of course not! Why would there be?), but I did find a cauldron, mortar and pestle, and a copper alembic (which is used for distilling)—so at least once I have the reagents I’ll be able to do some basic cooking with them. I also found a small leather-bound book with vague descriptions of some of the areas surrounding the village. I should be able to cross-reference it with my notes on the environments where useful reagents can be found to make searching for materials a bit less painful.

I pulled a matted tangle of weeds out of the garden plot, but it looks like whatever was planted underneath already shriveled away to nothing. Well, at least the land’s clear now.

One thing that I knew I’d need if I was going to be able to handle this was a familiar. I’ve never been one for conjuration but in this case it’s an unfortunate necessity. I was supposed to be getting one within the next few weeks at Edith’s anyway, and I already knew the process. You’re supposed to have a more experienced witch observe your first time, but that’s just academic formality—there’s nothing actually dangerous about the process.

I found what looks to be a quarter cran basket (was my predecessor into fishing…?) under the bed, and set out around the property collecting small rocks and flowers and toadstools that had the right kinds of vibration. They were for use in the ritual, but also collecting them was a good start to cleaning the property up. Because if I’m going to be living here, it cannot stay looking like this.

I took the basket into the woods near the creek and laid its contents out in a circle as wide as I was tall. Before I placed each one down, I held it for a moment and asked it to help me with my task. Then, I sat in the center of my circle and closed my eyes and tried to meditate. Clearing my head has never been my strong suit, but I’m usually able to fudge the process enough to do what needs doing. This time took a bit longer than usual but eventually I managed. I felt my energy (spirit, consciousness, whatever) radiating out from me, pink and orange and bright and loud, first to the edges of the circle and then beyond. All of it asked a single question and listened for the answer.

The response came from much closer than anticipated, when I felt something small hop onto my knee.

I opened my eyes and looked down to see a frog staring back at me, blinking lazily and making small, guttural noises. Her back was green and rough and slimy. One of her eyes was milky, pointing vaguely off to the left, while the other gazed straight at me. The tips of her toes (three on each foot) edged closer to brown than the rest of her body.

Having clearly presented herself, she now asked if my gut said we would be good partners.

I’ve named her Ailean.

And now here I am, writing all of this down. I don’t know if I’ll be able to manage this every day. Whoever reads this may have to settle for a few times a week. With that said, I do think I’d like to go back and read what my predecessor wrote. Maybe it’ll give a clue as to where she’s gone, and help me escape this position sooner. She seems to have been quite the prolific writer—getting through her logs could take months, especially if the townsfolk keep me particularly busy with their various woes. I’ll have to start reading sooner rather than later.

Speak of the devil, there’s a knock on my door. It hasn’t even been a full day and I might already have my first customer. I’ll finish this later.

⇦●〇●⇨

[redbokuto]

Part 1~ Awaited Encounter

15 years ago Akashi's pov

A larger hand gripped my smaller one, leading me down the crowded halls. My large eyes scanned the color coated walls with boredom. A sigh came from my thin lips as my gray boots squeaked against the pale red tile.

My mother walked through the school with a warm smile. She greeted others as she passed by, almost forgetting about my existence. "Are you ready Keiji? This is your first day of kindergarten! You're growing up so fast." I looked up to my mother and forced on a small smile.

If I knew turning five meant this, I would have never done it. But here I am, walking through my first school ever. Pre-school was easy, all I did was color and sing songs from time to time. The best part was that no other kids bothered me.

Even at my young age I have already decided to be a loner. It's not my choice, other kids just find my face scary looking. It might be because I never smiled, and I rather not force one.

Me and My mom stopped in front of the light green door. On the door were handmade flowers, one had my name. Many adults have told me I am very smart for my age, but it's not something I pay attention to. I am only in school to get by, that and there is nothing else to do.

My mom gripped the handle and opened the door at a slow rate. Cold air touched my face once the door was fully open. Taking a look inside, I could tell this teacher must love flowers. They decorated the walls and tables, as well as the ceiling.

Small children were accumulated at different desks, all looking for their names and assigned seats. The tall teacher greeted and welcomed us in. My mother and her talked while I walked around the room. Finding my seat was easy, I was in the back right corner of the room. "Nice and quiet." I blurted to myself.

Parents started to leave the area. Some hugged their kids, some cried, but me and my mom only waved to one another. I pulled at my chair and took a seat. The desk was separated into two, meaning I would have to share.

Hopefully my desk-mate would be quiet, and calm like me.

"Hey hey hey!"

My small body tensed from the loud sound before I turned and saw golden eyes staring down at me. The pair of eyes were mesmerizing and keen, I almost couldn't look away. The eyes belonged to a gray-haired boy who was tall for his age.

Chubby cheeks and arched brows came into my view as my gaze zoned out. The boy had two missing front teeth, but that didn't stop him from grinning. His faded black and gray hair was parted into two, making him look silly in a way.

"You said hey three times." I stated with a frown. Please tell me he isn't sitting next to me.

My head turned to look at the name on the desk. Bokuto Koutarou. While I read the name, the boy squinted at it with a confused look. "I don't think that's my name." He whispered with scrunched brows.

Relief washed over me, "so you're not Bokuto Koutarou."

"How do you know my name?!" The gray-haired kid jumped back with wide eyes. My eyebrow twitched in annoyance; don't tell me he can't read his own name. There is no way I can stay with this kid without my brain cells melting.

Bokuto balled his hands into small fists as if he were about to fight. "Are you a staker?"

This time I grew the confused look, "you mean a stalker?"

"SO YOU ARE ONE!" Bokuto exclaimed, stepping back farther. I winced from his loud tone, "do you have to be so loud?"

Bokuto put his hands down and walked closer to me. His golden eyes scanned me with concern, "are your ears ok?" His bigger hands touched my small ears, examining them as if he were a doctor. How could this kid go from hostile to caring in a split second?

"Yes, my ears are ok." I assured him. The satisfied look Bokuto grew made a knot form in my stomach. What is with this kid? Why is he so caring?

The gray-haired boy pulled out the chair next to me. He took a seat, swinging his legs in the air and practically bouncing out of his seat. "What's your name?" Bokuto's golden eyes landed on mine. His gaze showed his undivided attention.

His stare made me hesitate, "Akashi Keiji."

A large toothy grin grew on the kids face, "it's nice to meet you Agashiii!"

"It's Akashi." I corrected with pursed lips.

"That's what I said, Agashiii."

"You're still not saying it right."

Bokuto puffed out his cheeks and round tummy, "yes I am, your ears are blind."

I took a deep breath, "you mean deaf."

"huh?" Bokuto tilted his head in bewilderment. "Nothing." I sighed, waving it off and rubbing my temple.

Once the teacher started talking, I tried to tune Bokuto out. Let's just say it didn't work. The boy was full of energy and wouldn't STOP speaking. He rambled along, messing up words and definitions. "You mean allergic." I paused after the statement, realizing that I was actually paying attention to what the boy was saying.

"Thank you Agashiii!" Bokuto smiled before continuing. Eventually, I gave in and started giving Bokuto my full attention. It was weird, it was as if what the teacher was saying didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was Bokuto's terrible pronunciation and grammar.

Papers were passed around to each child. The assignment was simple, so I started it while Bokuto spoke. I passed crayons to him when he asked and spelled out Bokuto for him to write.

"Agashiii! Agashiii!" Bokuto exclaimed in his usual loud tone. I winced and applied more pressure to the crayon I was using, which Bokuto noticed. "sorry sorry Agashi." The gray-haired boy whispered. I shook off the loud noise and gestured for him to speak.

"Look Agashiii, I finished the assignment."

The paper slid across the light brown desk to my side. I stared at the paper shocked and confused. "Bokuto, you were supposed to draw something you find important. Why did you draw me?"

I looked up to meet the innocent eyes of my desk-mate. "Our friendship is important to me." He blurted out with no hesitation. I was taken back from his words, swallowing before looking back at the photo.

Bokuto was no artist, but that didn't stop the slight heat from rushing to my cheeks. I grabbed the closest crayon and started to sketch out Bokuto. His bright eyes watched every move I made. When I was done, I looked to the side while showing him my paper. "You're on mine." I stuttered with flushed cheeks.

The thin paper left my hand, "Agashiii..."

I swallowed again and turned to Bokuto.

"This looks nothing like me! You're not a good drawler." The gray-haired boy laughed, clutching his stomach and the paper. His laugh made me more embarrassed than I already was. "Sh-shut up! Give me it back Bokuto!"

Bokuto stopped laughing, his bottom lip pushed out and his eyes began to water. "but... but I want to keep it Agashiii."

Once again I began to blush. It was a rough drawing that took less then ten seconds to complete. Why would he care so much about it? "You can." I mumbled, which made Bokuto smile. He then handed me his paper and told me to keep it.

Looking down at the bad drawing, I couldn't help but smile. I made my first friend that day. It was the best day of my life.

//

All these chapters moving forward can be found on Wattpad. The username is Zayinmorzin

Hope you enjoyed, bye bye~

[casual-flower]

Hiii 💕 6 , 20 ,24 for the artist asks? 👉👈

Haii!! 💕 I hope you've been doing well!! ^^

6. Longest a drawing has taken to finish?

This year it was probably a drawing I did for my closest friend. Originally it began as a drawing of her and Yoosung but then after like 3 hours of trying to figure out Yoosung physics I gave up on him lol. So it ended up as an attempt at a more cartoonish, but also somewhat painterly style portrait of my friend.

Tbf I've no clue how long it took in total in terms of hours, but I think it had the longest video time out of any of my other drawings lol

All I know is I made that file in January and the last time I touched it was September,, but dw!! I didn't work on that singular drawing for 9 months straight lmaooo

Once again, I'm not sure how many hours it would have taken as I work without looking at time, but this drawing would have probably taken me around 4-5 days, working for a few hours each? :p that's just a rough estimate lolol

20. What do you think you've improved on the most over the past year?

Probably on slowing down a bit when I draw. I still have a long way to go, but I always seem to speedrun all the processes?? And for what reason?? lol. No, but I think I've made progress on this because I finally identified it as a problem that I have, so I was able to work on it ^^

I was looking at my sketchbook shelf so I can compare my old drawings and- I found a sketchbook I completely forgot about?? :0 it's a mixed media one so I can use watercolour if I get back on it hehe. happy early birthday (jk lol) heres an unfinished mysme sketch from said sketchbook;;

I remember why I never finished this sketchbook now. Its bc it was my "inktober sketchbook" LMFAOOOOO I BARELY DID A WEEK OF INKTOBER PLS 💀

okay lemme see my fast sketchy sketchbook,,

I know this was a fast sketch but damn that waist 😳 There's this other drawing I did and the waist on that one was tiny too but like,, on that one it was genuinely disproportionate and I think those were exceptions to my general art,, but I thought I would mention them anyway djkskdkd

This has almost nothing to do with the question anymore lol. This was just me practicing poses and I was really proud of this one!! (Btw idk why I put balloons next to the date?? That's not my birthday, nor anybody's that I know of?? LMFAOOOOOO wtf)

AAAAAA its Ema Skye!! (Ace Attorney)!! I love her so I had to share lol anyways;:

OH actually I think I improved on filling up these pages more within the last 1-2 years?? look at this difference lol

to this!!

wait I just realised that most of my pages that I've got very filled up have a lot of um;; commentary and writing for absolutely no reason LMAO help,, this is the best I can do to demonstrate a bit of my improvement;;

25. What do you like most about your art style?

Sad news;; I don't have a consistent art style 😔 BUT there are some consistenties, which I can consider for this lolol.

I generally like the way I draw eyes, I think? They vary depending on the subcategory (lol) of the art style I end up going for, but in general I think I like the way I draw em

i kinda like the way I draw hair, too? though I think its bc I've been given compliments about that lolol

Thanks for sending this in!! ^^ 💕

[sinceileftyoublog]

Pitchfork Music Festival 2021 Preview: 15 Can’t-miss Acts

black midi; Photo by YIS KID

BY JORDAN MAINZER

While yours truly won’t be attending Pitchfork Music Festival this year, SILY contributor Daniel Palella will be covering the actual fest. If I was attending, though, these would be the acts I’d make sure to see. 5 from each day, no overlaps, so you could conceivably see everyone listed.

FRIDAY

Armand Hammer, 1:00 PM, Green Stage

Earlier this year, New York hip hop duo Armand Hammer released their 5th album Haram (BackwoodzStudioz) in collaboration with on-fire producer The Alchemist. It was the duo’s (ELUCID and Billy Woods) first time working with a singular producer on a record (though Earl Sweatshirt produced a track), and likewise, The Alchemist actually tailored his beats towards the two MCs. Haram is the exact kind of hip hop that succeeds early in the day at a festival, verbose and complex rhymes over languid, cloudy, sample-heavy beats, when attendees are more likely to want to sit and listen than dance. And you’re going to want to listen to Armand Hammer, whose MCs’ experiential words frame the eerie hues of the production. “Dreams is dangerous, linger like angel dust,” Woods raps on opener “Sir Benni Miles”, never looking back as he and Elucid’s stream-of-consciousness rhymes cover everything from colonization to Black bodily autonomy and the dangers of satisfaction disguised as optimism. (“We let BLM be the new FUBU,” raps Quelle Chris on “Chicharrones”; “Iridescent blackness / Is this performative or praxis?” ponders Woods on “Black Sunlight”.)  There are moments of levity on Haram, like KAYANA’s vocal turn on “Black Sunlight” and the “what the hell sound is this?” type sampling that dominates warped, looped tracks like “Peppertree” and “Indian Summer”, built around sounds of horns and twirling flute lines. For the most part, Haram is an album of empathetic realism. “Hurt people hurt people,” raps Elucid on “Falling Out of the Sky”, a stunning encapsulation of Armand Hammer’s world where humanism exists side-by-side with traumatic death and feelings of revenge.

You can also catch Armand Hammer doing a live set on the Vans Channel 66 livestream at 12 PM on Saturday.

Dogleg, 1:45 PM, Red Stage

It feels like we’ve been waiting years to see this set, and actually, we have! The four-piece punk band from Michigan was supposed to play last year’s cancelled fest in support of their searing debut Melee (Triple Crown), and a year-plus of pent up energy is sure to make songs like “Bueno”, “Fox”, and “Kawasaki Backflip” all the more raging. Remember: This is a band whose reputation was solidified live before they were signed to Triple Crown and released their breakout album. Seeing them is the closest thing to a no-brainer that this year’s lineup offers.

Revisit our interview with Dogleg from last year, and catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Subterranean with fellow Pitchfork performer Oso Oso and Retirement Party.

Hop Along, 3:20 PM, Red Stage

Though lead singer Frances Quinlan released a very good solo album last year, it’s been three years since their incredible band Hop Along dropped an album and two years since they’ve toured. 2018′s Bark Your Head Off, Dog (Saddle Creek), one of our favorite albums of that year, should comprise the majority of their setlist, but maybe they have some new songs?

Catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Metro with Varsity and Slow Mass.

black midi, 4:15 PM, Green Stage

The band who had the finest debut of 2019 and gave the best set of that year at Pitchfork is back. Cavalcade (Rough Trade) is black midi’s sophomore album, methodical in its approach in contrast with the improvisational absurdism of Schlagenheim. Stop-start, violin-laden lead single and album opener “John L”, a song about a cult leader whose members turn on him, is as good a summary as ever of the dark, funky eclecticism of black midi, who on Cavalcade saw band members leave and new ones enter, their ever shapeshifting sound the only consistent thing about them. A song like the jazzy “Diamond Stuff” is likely impossible to replicate live--its credits list everything from 19th century instruments to household kitchen items used for percussion--but is key to experiencing their instrumental adventurousness. On two-and-a-half-minute barn burner “Hogwash and Balderdash,” they for the first time fully lean into their fried Primus influences, telling a tale of two escaped prisoners, “two chickens from the pen.” At the same time, this band is still black midi, with moments that call back to Schlagenheim, the churning, metallic power chords via jittery, slapping funk of “Chondromalacia Patella” representative of their quintessential tempo changes. And as on songs like Schlagenheim’s “Western”, black midi find room for beauty here, too, empathizing with the pains of Marlene Dietrich on a bossa nova tune named after her, Geordie Greep’s unmistakable warble cooing sorrowful lines like, “Fills the hall tight / And pulls at our hearts / And puts in her place / The girl she once was.” Expect to hear plenty from Cavalcade but also some new songs; after all, this is a band that road tests and experiments with material before recording it.

Catch them doing a 2 PM DJ set on Vans Channel 66 on Saturday and at an aftershow on Monday at Sleeping Village.

Yaeji, 7:45 PM, Blue Stage

What We Drew (XL), the debut mixtape from Brooklyn-based DJ Yaeji, was one of many dance records that came out after lockdown that we all wished we could experience in a crowd as opposed to at home alone. Now's our chance to bask in all of its glory under a setting sun. Maybe she’ll spin her masterful remix of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t Start Now” from the Club Future Nostalgia remix album, or her 2021 single “PAC-TIVE”, her and DiAN’s collaboration with Pac-Man company Namco.

Angel Olsen; Photo by Dana Trippe

SATURDAY

Bartees Strange, 1:45 PM, Red Stage

One of our favorite albums of last year was Live Forever (Memory Music), the debut from singer-songwriter and The National fanatic Bartees Strange, one that contributor Lauren Lederman called “a declaration of an artist’s arrival.” He’s certainly past arrived when you take into account his busy 2021, releasing a new song with Lorenzo Wolff and offering his remix services to a number of artists, including illuminati hotties and fellow Pitchfork performer (and tour mate) Phoebe Bridgers. Expect to hear lots of Live Forever during his Pitchfork set, one of many sets at the fest featuring exciting young guitar-based (!) bands.

Catch him at a free (!!) aftershow on Monday at Empty Bottle with Ganser.

Faye Webster, 4:00 PM, Blue Stage

Since we previewed Faye Webster’s Noonchorus livestream in October, she’s released the long-awaited follow-up to Atlanta Millionaires Club, the cheekily titled I Know I’m Funny haha (Secretly Canadian). At that time, she had dropped “Better Distractions”, “In A Good Way”, and “Both All The Time”, and the rest of the album more than follows the promise of these three dreamy country, folk rock, and R&B-inspired tunes. Webster continues to be a master of tone and mood, lovelorn on “Sometimes”, sarcastic on the title track, and head-in-the-clouds on “A Dream with a Baseball Player”. All the while, she and her backing band provide stellar, languorous instrumentation, keys and slide guitar on the bossa nova “Kind Of”, her overdriven guitar sludge on “Cheers”, cinematic strings on the melancholic “A Stranger”, stark acoustic guitar on heartbreaking closer “Half of Me”. And the ultimate irony of Webster’s whip-smart lyricism is that a line like, “And today I get upset over this song that I heard / And I guess was just upset because why didn't I think of it first,” is that I can guarantee a million songwriters feel the same way about her music, timely in context and timeless in sound and feeling.

Catch her at an aftershow on Saturday at Sleeping Village with Danger Incorporated.

Georgia Anne Muldrow, 5:15 PM, Blue Stage

The queen of beats takes the stage during the hottest part of the day, perfect for some sweaty dancing. VWETO III (FORESEEN + Epistrophik Peach Sound), the third album in Muldrow’s beats record series, was put together with “calls to action” in mind, each single leading up to the album’s release to be paired with crowdsourced submissions via Instagram from singers, visual artists, dancers, and turntablists. Moreover, many of the album’s tracks are inspired by very specific eras of Black music, from Boom Bap and G-funk to free jazz, and through it all, Muldrow provides a platform for musical education just as much as funky earworms.

Revisit our interview with Muldrow from earlier this year.

Angel Olsen, 7:25 PM, Red Stage

It’s been a busy past two years for Angel Olsen. She revealed Whole New Mess (Jagjaguwar) in August 2020, stripped down arrangements of many of the songs on 2019′s amazing All Mirrors. In May, she came out with a box set called Song of the Lark and Other Far Memories (Jagjaguwar), which contained both All Mirrors and Whole New Mess and a bonus LP of remixes, covers, alternate takes, and bonus tracks. She shortly and out of nowhere dropped a song of the year candidate in old school country rock high and lonesome Sharon Van Etten duet “Like I Used To”. And just last month, she released Aisles, an 80′s covers EP out on her Jagjaguwar imprint somethingscosmic. She turns Laura Branigan’s disco jam “Gloria” and Men Without Hats’ “Safety Dance” into woozy, echoing, slowed-down beds of synth haze and echoing drum machine. On Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark’s “If You Leave”, her voice occupies different registers between the soft high notes of the bridge and autotuned solemnity of the chorus. Sure, other covers are more recognizable in their tempo and arrangement, like Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell ballad “Eyes Without a Face” and Alphaville’s “Forever Young”, but Aisles is exemplary of Olsen’s ability to not just reinvent herself but classics.

At Pitchfork, I’d bet on a set heavy on All Mirrors and Whole New Mess, but as with the unexpectedness of Aisles, you never know!

St. Vincent, 8:30 PM, Green Stage

Annie Clark again consciously shifts personas and eras with her new St. Vincent album Daddy’s Home (Loma Vista), inspired by 70′s funk rock and guitar-driven psychedelia. While much of the album’s rollout centered around its backstory--Clark’s father’s time in prison for white collar crimes--the album is a thoughtful treatise on honesty and identity, the first St. Vincent album to really stare Clark’s life in the face. 

Many of its songs saw their live debut during a Moment House stream, which we previewed last month.

The Weather Station; Photo by Jeff Bierk

SUNDAY

Tomberlin, 1:00 PM, Green Stage

While the LA-via-Louisville singer-songwriter hasn’t yet offered a proper follow-up LP to her 2018 debut At Weddings, she did last year release an EP called Projections (Saddle Creek), which expands upon At Weddings’ shadowy palate. Songs like “Hours” and “Wasted” are comparatively clattering and up-tempo. Yet, all four of the original tracks are increasingly self-reflexive, Tomberlin exploring and redefining herself on her terms, whether singing about love or queerness, all while maintaining her sense of humor. (“When you go you take the sun and all my flowers die / So I wait by the window and write some shit / And hope that you'll reply,” she shrugs over acoustic strums and wincing electric guitars.) The album ends with a stark grey cover of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone’s “Natural Light”; Tomberlin finds a kindred spirit in the maudlin musings of Owen Ashworth.

Get there early on Sunday to hear select tracks from At Weddings and Projections but also likely some new songs.

oso oso, 2:45 PM, Blue Stage

Basking in the Glow (Triple Crown), the third album from Long Beach singer-songwriter Jade Lilitri as Oso Oso, was one of our favorite records of 2019, and we’d relish the opportunity to see them performed to a crowd in the sun. Expect to hear lots of it; hopefully we’re treated to new oso oso material some time soon.

Catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Subterranean with fellow Pitchfork performer Dogleg and Retirement Party.

The Weather Station, 4:00 PM, Blue Stage

The Toronto band led by singer-songwriter Tamara Lindeman released one of the best albums of the year back in February with Ignorance (Fat Possum), songs inspired by climate change-addled anxiety. While the record is filled with affecting, reflective lines about loss and trying to find happiness in the face of dread, in a live setting, I imagine the instrumentation will be a highlight, from the fluttering tension of “Robber” to the glistening disco of “Parking Lot”.

Revisit our preview of their Pitchfork Instagram performance from earlier this year. Catch them at an aftershow on Friday at Schubas with Ulna.

Danny Brown, 6:15 PM, Green Stage

The Detroit rapper’s last full-length record was the Q-Tip executive produced uknowhatimsayin¿ (Warp), though he’s popped up a few times since then, on remixes, a Brockhampton album, and TV62, a Bruiser Brigade Records compilation from earlier this year. (He’s also claimed in Twitch streams that his new album Quaranta is almost done.) His sets--especially Pitchfork sets--are always high-energy, as he’s got so many classic albums and tracks under his belt at this point, so expect to hear a mix of those.

Erykah Badu, 8:30 PM, Green Stage

What more can I say? This is the headliner Pitchfork has been trying to get for years, responsible for some of the greatest neo soul albums of all time. There’s not much else to say about Erykah Badu other than she’s the number one must-see at the festival.

[teacup-tai]

Top Five of 2020

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

My lovely @the-starryknight thanks for the tag!  I’ll tag a few people, but you probably already did it: @ruinsplume @kasjophe @gallifrey1sburning @quicksilvermaid @prolix- @dazedandinked 

Right. This year was insane, I got stuck first half of the year in Ireland with only 2 friends close by, all my family in Brazil or Spain while I was writing my bloody master thesis (that is what I’m proudest of this year, but it’s not published yet, so won’t go in this list). I managed a lot of hard emotions in solitude, by myself, while reading drarry fics to keep afloat (great coping mechanism, actually!). And after handing my thesis and moving to Spain, I was feeling deeply empty. So I went back to fic-writing, after 2 or 3 years of not even looking at my old fics. 

It all started when I saw the posts for prompt claiming on the @hd-hurtfest  blog. To think how that post changed everything in my life is just bizarre. So I am very thankful! It has been a huge pleasure to go back to fic-writing and to re-embrace the HP fandom, mainly the drarry squad! To get to know so many lovely people and I’m forever grateful for that. 

Here is my Top Five:

hear me (with your whole body): (Drarry, E, 9k) this is the fic I wrote for the hd-hurtfest 2020. I saw @quicksilvermaid’s prompt and I shivered. It lured me so much I had the whole plot in my head as soon as I finished sending the claim. It was so hard to write it. Because the topic is very sensitive: open relationships, sexual mismatch, bad communication skills. I brought most of my bad experiences in all these sensitive topics as if I was purging it from my body while writing ‘hear me’. It was a very raw process of looking into my own still bleeding wounds, but very cathartic. And it was hard because it was my very first drarry (I love drarry and I normally only read drarry, but I’ve never felt confident enough to write it), so I was very nervous. And in bloody English xD LOL but I’m bloody proud of it. I wanted to write something real without making a show of blaming one of the parts, at the same time I wanted to use and unreliable POV (Harry’s) and to bring forth all those very uncomfortable realities of jealousy, insecurity of one’s sexuality etc. in a way people could relate to. I’ve never imagined the response to this fic would be so nice, and many of the comments drove me to deep reflection. I’m specially happy about this fic because after writing ‘hear me’ something cracked open inside of me, in my own personal-romantic life and also in writing. Like a small miracle. And then, I couldn’t stop writing anymore.

Rebel Rebel: (Sirius/Remus. E, 5k) heh, Wolfstar is my OTP *-* So writing this tiny fic with ‘there was no war’ prompt for the sirius black fest was a bloody delight. The feeling of exploring their youth, in the early 80s and the whole atmosphere of that time was exhilarating! Bowie’s concerts, HIV+ and Aids, queer community and old school crushes. Giving them a future and professions was fun as fuck. But the best part was making Sirius Black fuck around, wild and free, you know. Because he bloody well deserved it. I love the writing style I explored there, very influenced by Caio Fernando Abreu, one of my favourite Brazilian writers and it was just great great fun!

Dragons Don’t Know Paradise: (Drarry + Wolfstar, E, 40k+ WIP) I need to post 3 more chapters along this next few days.  I’m adding Dragons here because NEVER. IN. MY. LIFE I thought this story would come out of my head into the pages, and I’m so bloody happy, so bloody proud of myself. I cannot believe how much I’ve written in a month, about a plot that had some path in my head but never a shape, and how this all blossomed inside of me and how it’s coming out just brilliantly. I know I’ll think back at some point and think this and that are not great. But I think this fic is one of my best works, it deals with the queer community, with depression and acceptance, with HIV+ folk, and deep emotions. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of writing. And here it is, and writing it made me manage the fact that I wouldn’t be able to spend this xmas with my family, so I spent this last month with this characters and feeling the opposite of lonely. And to be able to write Harry having a family, you know, being raised by Remus and Sirius is just marvellous. I’m over the moon with wolfstar being great gaydads :D

Scorching: (Pansmione, E, 1.5k) first time I translated a Portuguese fic of mine to English. It was fun to do it, as it’s purely smutty smut and well, I love pansmione and it makes me greedy to go back to writing about this ship. I like how it turned out, but it’s not beta-ed so maybe it’s not great. But damn, I really like this Pansy. ^^

The Old Ways: (Voldemort/Walburga, M, 3k). So, I have a whole word document full of snippets on the Black family. As the Black family is my huge guilty pleasure (that’s why Tainara Black has been my pen name since 2005). I don’t like to think Walburga was only a mad pureblood bigoted woman, I like to think of her as being strongly magical and very sure of herself. Someone three-dimensional with knowledge of Dark magic of the old ways and a deep insanity that comes with legacy of pureness, but also with financial influence and  management of old wizarding land. I realised Walburga is only 1 year older than Voldie, she is closest to his age than her husband or brother (if we follow the Balck Family Genealogical Tree), and this sparked a whole idea inside of me. So this fic is a character study of Walburga when Sirius is only 10 and Voldemort is organising a war, and I honestly think is one of my best fics (even though it wasn’t beta-ed). I loved writing about this powerful witch, that got stuck in keeping her bloodline alive, that gave up on great deeds of power and freedom to become a pureblood mother and wife. But it’s the fic no one reads, so I’m adding a bit of it here in hopes it may interest someone:

He climbs the last step of the noisy, rusty, winding stair, his eyes mapping the place in silent wonder. The rooftop is sombre. Rough grey cement floor and dead flower beds in a far corner, big dark clay pots with dead branches and dry bushes scattered around; the only living thing is an imposing carnivorous plant, it’s toothed lips opening and closing sharply around bugs and other insects.

She is right there, in the centre of the chaotic rooftop garden and he thinks the house is in shambles, and so is she. The moon is reflecting its cold brightness over her as if it were a stage light. He takes a second to contemplate her stance. He has never seen her like this before. It is such an incongruous sight it almost feels like he’s intruding. Is not a feeling he’s used to.

She’s perched in a high frail copper chair, her ankles crossed lightly, with pale bare feet against the dirty coarse floor, one white arm falling languidly from the armrest, her elegant fingers holding a thin long smoking pipe. Rings of smoke rising into the night sky. The back of her skull resting on the back of the chair, he can’t see her face from this angle, but he’s stunned by the imagery.

She looks almost mythical; with her long black mane messy and loose, barely touching the ground. He can’t remember when was the last time he’s seen her hair down, but he’s pretty sure it wasn’t that long, nor were there silver strikes colouring it in a mix of salt and pepper.

“How long do you plan to stare?” her voice is as rusty as the whole house and he scoffs.

keep reading

[vulpesmellifera]

The Strange, the Fantastical, and the Horrifying

I’ve discovered I love writing weird stuff, so I decided to put together a list of my strangest, my most fantastical, and my most horrifying fics. Maybe there’s something here for everyone. Enjoy! <3

Johnlock

Rose Madder - Explicit. 25,415 words. With a history of bad choices firmly behind him, Sherlock Holmes has established himself with New Scotland Yard as a brilliant if egotistical solver of crime. An island unto himself, he's avoided all thoughts and urges of sentimental or physical attachment to another person not only for the sake of The Work, but for the equilibrium of his Mind Palace. Until he meets John Watson. This seemingly ordinary yet compelling man catches Sherlock's interest as something more than a mere roommate. When John moves in, he brings with him something unexpected: a strange family heirloom. The nightmare begins. (Tags include: Season 1 AU, Gay Pilot, creepy dolls)

Into the Gloaming - Mature. 8,385 words. She lays the sage bundle down in one of his seashells, avoiding the label. How he loved cataloging natural items. That sharp mind of his so naturally tended to the sciences, and she’d taken great joy in encouraging him all his life. All the first thirteen years of it. The last year has been entirely different.His hand lies just outside the white comforter. When she touches it, the chill of his skin sends a shiver down her spine. His lips move, his voice as soft as dead, dry leaves. “What’s that, love?” she says.“In the trees,” he says, his eyes still closed. “Is it John there in the trees? I think he’s waiting for me.” Viola turns her gaze out the window and to the closest tree, a resplendent cherry in the throes of autumn. In the branches there, for just a second, she thinks she sees it: a black bird, feathers gleaming in the sun. (Tags include: Creator Chose not to Use Archive Warnings, Mythology References, child death, Heavy Angst)

Haunted - Explicit. 22,342 words. Plagued by the past, John moves himself and his daughter to a new flat for a fresh start - and it's not 221B Baker Street. While he grapples with new knowledge and old guilt, he's confronted with odd neighbors and strange noises in the night. But is it the new flat, or is John Watson losing his grip on reality? (Tags include: post-canon, apologetic John, child endangerment, scary) 

Mystrade

The Ghost in the Graphite - Explicit. WIP. He's spent his life avoiding idleness with pencil and paper. It's unpredictable. A visitor could slide into his mind, animate his limbs, and attempt to communicate through sketching. They come to him for closure - or for justice. Greg Lestrade joined the police force to placate the ghosts that haunt him. His greatest asset in solving crime flings himself off of a building, and Greg is once more faced with too many sleepless nights. When a forceful spirit and a troubling case appear, there's a chance an innocent man could end up in prison. Out of desperation, Greg turns to the one person he thinks could help him: Mycroft Holmes. As attraction blooms between them, the case becomes far more twisted and dangerous than expected. The full moon approaches. Time is running out. (Tags include: post-Reichenbach Fall, Medium!Greg, Slow Burn)

Among the Roses - Explicit. 14,043 words. The moon shone brightly on the garden, the colours of the roses now muted blue-greys like pebbles along the shore. A shiver ran down his spine as the hairs on his neck tingled. “Hello?” he said. Looked to the left and the right. Not a soul. “Who’s there?” His grip on the umbrella handle was clammy. A foghorn bellowed in the distance. Clouds crept over the moon’s face, casting long, gauzy shadows over the garden. Mycroft stepped back, and shut the door. He tried to quell the racing of his heart as he stood there, listening. “I’ve been waiting,” the man said, his voice as rough as waves hitting the rocks. (Tags include: MCD, Reunited and it Feels So Good, Angst with a Happy Ending)

A Song for a Siren - Mature. 13,992 words. Perhaps most fearsome among beasts is a monster with a sweet voice and an appetite that compels it to gorge on the marrow of men. It hid among the waves and in the crevices of the craggy rocks, its stringy hair slick along a back as pale as a fish's belly, its ocean-hued eyes forever fixed on the ship that carried the gallant Captain Lestrade. In a world of madness and monsters, many a man meets his fate at the pointed teeth of an otherworldly creature. (Tags include: Cthulu references, Multiple POV, Happy Ending)

Night of the Grey Mare - Teen. 8,606 words. Every Christmas Eve, Mycroft visits the Watson-Holmes family to deliver a story to his precious niece, and share in a little of the mulled wine. This year, Rosie wants to hear something scary. Mycroft tells her a frightening tale of The Christmas Witch, and then takes his leave before Sherlock and John can enact their usual routine to make him feel unwelcome. The way home is fraught with unforeseen events and Mycroft soon finds himself in his own frightening tale of horror. Or does he? (Tags include: Post-canon, Icelandic Mythology, Scary Stories on Christmas Eve)

The Tenth Muse - Explicit. 25,365 words. Mycroft sees things other people can’t. Lights, spectres, shades, demons, phantasms, and creatures that no one else can see. Voices no one else can hear. Colours eddying around people’s bodies, visible only to his eyes.It isn't deduction for Mycroft; it's a living nightmare that leads to self-imposed isolation. When Sherlock "dies," Mycroft finds himself reaching out for a golden slice of happiness, just one person to call his own in a landscape of horrors.

Sherstrade

[Deleted] - Teen. 10,400 words. Greg Lestrade and John Watson awake to find themselves locked in an unfinished basement. While they are well acquainted with one another, the two men aren't friends. But the darkness has ways of bringing people closer together. Meanwhile, Sherlock and Sally must work together to solve the case of a missing John Watson. They're running out of time. (Tags include: Pre-Slash, no TFP, Trapped, Rescue)

Hannigram

The Thing in the House - Mature. WIP. Horror-obsessed Abigail Hobbs lives in a cookie-cutter neighborhood where everyone is dreadfully boring. On the verge of graduating, she's eager to get out and pursue her dream of becoming a Special Effects Makeup Artist. Her big focus: monsters. She never thought an actual monster might move in next door. And she never thought that the monster might uncover her own secrets. (Tags include: Fright Night homage, POV Abigail Hobbs)

Geraskier

The Slippery Dark - Explicit. 7,944 words. Suspicion and guilt war beneath his skin like adversarial ant colonies - writhing and biting. None of this is right, but who is Geralt to demand answers from Jaskier? The bard has changed. He chafes at his clothes as if beset by a rash, he stares into the distance with a down-turned mouth and sad eyes, and he won't tell Geralt about the monster they're facing other than "it'll be easy for you to kill it," and "you're the only one I would ask." Anytime Geralt tries to bring up his angry outburst on the mountain, Jaskier walks away without a word. And the dreams. Geralt's dreams are strange and frightening. When they settle in at a castle in ruins for protection from a coming storm, will what lurks in the shadows finally consume the Witcher? Or will the Witcher find what he should have wished for all along? (Tags include: season 1 AU, Geralt apologizes) 

[purplesurveys]

1127

1. What is one thing you will never do again? Watch The Hours. Film itself is great, but is way too triggering.

2. Would you rather be twice as smart or twice as happy? I’d take happiness easily. It’s not bad for the most part to make mistakes and I’d rather be too clumsy than be altogether miserable.

3. What happened the last time you cried? It was the day of what would’ve been our anniversary and at that moment I was alone in my car at a parking lot (waiting for the office to open) on a gloomy day. I just had to cry and let my feelings out for like 5 minutes to accept everything but I was immediately fine afterwards, haha. Grief can be funny.

4. What happened the time in your life when you were the most nervous to do something? My first job interview. It was my first adult thing ever. They never got back to me - very professional of them - but I was still grateful for the experience nonetheless.

5. What would your parents be surprised to learn about you? That I was in a whole ass relationship for technically 6 1/2 years. They probably have an inkling by now, but only about me being in a relationship. I’m sure they would be very surprised if they ever found out how long it had actually gone for.

6. What’s your worst habit? I pick at my toenails when I’m nervous or stressed. I tend to do this when I’m doing a work task that I particularly dread, and sometimes I’ll end up being fixated on the habit for like 10 minutes straight and not get anything done.

7. What superpower would you have for one day? Time travel, just to take quick trips to multiple decades and see how life was like during those times.

8. What fictional character do you have the biggest crush on? Matty from 13 Going on 30 would be one of them. Albert Finney’s character in Two for the Road is also charming as fuck.

9. Where would you live if you could live anywhere in the world? If money wasn’t an issue, probably somewhere cozy in like Switzerland or Canada.

10. What is your most bizarre pet peeve? Not necessarily a pet peeve but I get extremely uncomfortable when someone hands me a gift then they insult the gift while in front of me, saying it’s not a great gift or that I probably don’t need it, etc. Filipinos also have this habit of saying something along the lines of, “You earn way more than me so you’d probably think this gift sucks” like how do you want me to react :(((((( I love receiving gifts and the idea of being thought about already means a lot to me, so it just makes me wince a little bit when I hear statements like the above.

11. Who knows you the best? Gabie, probably. I’ve changed a lot since then, though.

12. What after school activities did you do in high school? Clubs were mandatory extracurricular activities in my high school; in my time, I joined the table tennis and yearbook clubs.

13. What “most likely to” superlative would you be most honored to receive? Idk, we didn’t have those in school. I probably would have been honored to get a journalism-themed one though; something like Most Likely To Write for NYT or Most Likely to Win a Pulitzer or something like that. Obviously that’s changed now and I’ve long let go of journalism as a passion.

14. What’s the last book you really loved? I haven’t read in a long, long while.

15. What was the greatest television show of all time? I don’t watch a lot of TV so I’m not the most credible decision-making body for this lol, but out of all the shows I’ve watched the best one would easily be Breaking Bad.

16. What’s been your favorite age so far? 16. Life was insanely easygoing back then and everything fell into place for me at the time.

17. If you could go back in time, what is one piece of advice you would give your younger self? Know when it’s enough. Be kind to yourself.

18. What one thing would you be most disappointed if you never got to experience it? Have kids.

19. Apologize or ask permission? I don’t understand the relationship between the two.

20. Unlimited love or money? I would love to never have to worry about finances ever again.

21. If you knew you would die in one week, what would you do? Take a week-long leave for work, spend all my money, bond with my dogs, throw a party for my closest friends, and honestly, make my peace with her.

22. What’s your most listened to song? Spotify doesn’t show that feature, but I bet it’s from Paramore or Hayley anyway. It would be impossible to know my most-listened to song of all time, like if we took into account my Spotify, iTunes, etc.

23. Beach vacation or European vacation? I need a beach vacation badly, but a European vacation would be a new and different experience. I’d take the latter.

24. If you could have been a child prodigy what would you have wanted to be skilled at? Playing the piano.

25. What’s the first thing you would do if you won the lottery? Depends on how much I won lmao. I’d probably retire this early if the money was big enough since I’m pretty stingy anyway. But generally, I would like to pay off whatever bills my parents are currently paying for, get back the car that we had to sell because of the pandemic, and maybe go for a solo vacation or five heheh.

26. What celebrity would you trade lives with? Kylie Jenner, for a day. Just so I can briefly have a taste of how being that rich is like.

27. If you were a performing artist, what would you title your first album? Nope.

28. What story do your friends still give you crap about? Staying with Gab despite the red flags that glared for four whole years is one of them. Angela will also never let go of that one time I tried some kind of fruit juice in high school and I described it as ‘packs a punch.’ It’s understood as a super Westernized idiom where I live and literally no one uses it in a casual sentence, so it was a hit with her and now we use ‘packs a punch’ whenever we want to describe something awesome or surprising.

29. If earth could only have one condiment for the rest of time, what would you pick to keep around? Mayonnaise and I will die on this mayonnaise-coated hill.

30. What is the ideal number of people to have over on a Friday night? Ideally? At this point? Like 20. I would love for that to be the case on the first Friday we can consider the Philippines COVID-free.

31. What was the worst age you’ve been so far? Sorry for yet another incoming Paramore reference but they literally have a lyric that goes, “22 is like, the worst idea that I have ever had.” Before turning 22 I used to think it was a weird line, like how could 22 possibly be unenjoyable? Now I’m 22 in a pandemic going through a rough breakup and I can’t even see my friends nor work in my first workplace ever.

32. What is your weirdest dealbreaker? If they wanted only cats as pets. I can deal with a dog and a cat, I guess; but cats were never fond of me so I feel like I’d struggle with this situation lol.

33. What fictional character reminds you most of yourself? Mr. Peanutbutterrrrrrr. Has a lot of love to give, doesn’t always use it on the right people. Also lives on pleasing others.

34. Do you believe in karma? Just to a tiny extent, in how I would want people’s awful actions to come bite them in the ass one day. It’s not a philosophy that controls my life and the things I do whatsoever.

35. What was your favorite TV show as a kid? My absolute favorite was Hi-5, with the original cast. As I got older my interests shifted to Spongebob and The Fairly OddParents.

36. What is the weirdest thing you find attractive in a person? I don’t think it’s weird, but I don’t hear thighs too often when people list down their favorite physical traits. It’s certainly one of mine.

37. What Jeopardy! category would you clear, no problem? A Friends-themed one, obviously. This reminds me of the Jeopardy night I had with some friends a few nights ago! That was so much fun, and Andi makes really great and fun questions hahaha.

38. What is something you’re superstitious about? I don’t think I am about anything.

39. What is the scariest experience you have ever had? Maybe that night my grandpa went into a drunk rampage. I was 9, right in his line of sight, frozen and scared shitless, and I didn’t know who he was going to strike next.

40. Who is a non-politician you wish would run for office? I never really think about this. If someone’s a non-politician then there must be a reason they aren’t, lol.

41. What cheesey song do you have memorized? Little Things by One Direction is very cheesy and it’s one of my least favorite songs of theirs, but I still have it memorized out of habit.

42. What one dead person would you most like to have dinner with, if it were possible? My great-grandpa died all the way back in the 70s, even before some of my aunts and uncles could meet him. It would be cool to spend time with him.

43. Do you think it’s important to stay up to date with the news? Yeah, absolutely. I have the stomach for it lol, so I always monitor what’s happening locally and globally. Skipping the news from time to time is fine because I get how anxiety-inducing and depressing some events can be, but there’s a huge difference between ignoring the news for your mental health and being indifferent altogether. I’d immediately judge anyone who’s the latter, and would assume you are incredibly privileged.

44. What is the best present you could ever receive? My money refunded -____________- I had food delivered to my director, Bea’s house as a surprise earlier today, but apparently I ran into a scammer driver and the fucker drove away with the meal I had bought for Bea. I reported the driver and the situation, and thankfully the customer service rep of the food delivery app quickly responded and said they’d return the full amount I paid for; but I still haven’t received it.

45. Would you give up one of your fingers if it meant you’d have free wifi wherever you go, for the rest of your life? No. Mobile data exists for a reason.

46. What’s the first thing you’d do if you were the opposite sex for one day? Check out my voice.

47. If someone told you you could give one person a present and your budget was unlimited–what present would you get and for whom? I’d love to surprise Angela with an overseas trip that would last for like a month. Traveling is one thing we have yet to do as best friends.

48. What is the nicest thing someone could say about you? Nothing particular, but it makes me happy when people call me strong and when they validate the shit I’ve gone through over the years.

49. Giant house in a subdivision or tiny house somewhere with a view? I would take the giant house. When it comes to my own place, I would want to have a lot of space to roam around.

50. What is the weirdest quirk your family has? Nothing is coming to mind.

[andsotheuniverseended]

cephas my beloved

so i don't know if what you meant here was "answer all thirty of the dnd meme questions for cephas" but that is how i'm interpreting it so i'mma go ahead and put it under a cut

(also for those not in the know, Cephas (they/she/him/any pronoun you like) is my stone construct witch. yes those are both homebrew things I found online. i use this witch and just recently updated them to the 3.0 version and i'm very excited about it)

1. if one of their friends was jumping on a bed and asked your character to join them, would they?

Yes, absolutely, of course. The bed would then immediately break because Cephas is a couple tons of solid rock, but that's on their friends for not thinking it through. Or maybe that was the plan. Either way, Cephas is on board.

2. would your character carry around a tiny bath and body works hand sanitizer? if yes, would it have a specific scent?

I mean, Ceph does carry around smelling salts enchanted to smell like whatever would make someone feel better in the moment? Which is kind of the same thing? But anyways the real answer is Probably Not unless it was a gift, because Cephas has no sense of smell and has no need to sanitize.

3. does your character paint their nails? do they wait for them to dry fully afterwards?

Technically he doesn't have nails but Cephas will happily allow themselves to be painted over any part of their body, and will stay completely still until it's dry. I know because the party his done this to them before.

4. if you cut open your character’s heart and there was something inside, what would it be? why?

Hm. I mean. Literally speaking, no heart, you just find stone in there. Figuratively speaking... a jade earring. representative of their first steps towards freedom.

5. do/would your character carry lots of hair ties on their wrist?

Nah, not unless one of the other party members asked.

6. what parts of your character’s voice/manner of speaking are distinct, if any?

Hm. Mostly just that their voice is pretty rough and low. Otherwise I think they talk pretty normal??

7. what’s the first thing your character’s eyes are drawn to on a map?

New places. To all the parts of the world they haven't seen yet, and want to.

8. how did your character feel when they left home for the first time?

Okay I'm going to go with the definition of home that means Cephas has to feel like it's home, which would mean the place where they lived with their BFF Effie. And I think the first time they left there, with an intent to go out and adventure, they felt really excited, happy, and like they were finally doing what they were meant to be doing. They'd been feeling very restless up until that point, so it's kind of like scratching an itch. Very satisfying.

9. where does your character look when they’re the only one walking down a road?

All around. She likes to see everything and doesn't get particularly worried about other people or robbers or things like that, so there's a lot of being generally distracted by whatever scenery they're passing through. Sometimes he'll just stop and pretend to be a statue on the side of the road and people watch for a while, if there's time for it.

10. does your character have tattoos? were they alone the first time they got one?

Being made of stone, my darling Cephas can't get tattoos. If they had actual flesh I do think they'd wanna get some.

11. if a button came loose from your character’s shirt, would they make sure the replacement matched?

Cephas doesn't wear clothes, and if they did 'matching' would not be the thing they cared about, so for sure No.

12. how loudly do they cry?

Gods I feel like a lot of these answers are just "Cephas is a stone construct and therefore cannot/does not do the thing" but like Cephas is a stone construct and cannot cry. There have been a lot of times where they wished they could, but their body wasn't built for it. Typically if they're sad, they're quiet about it, reserved.

13. does your character like holding hands? do they do it often?

Yes! But he doesn't do it very often at all. Stone isn't comfortable for other people to hold, and they have to be careful not to hurt people when touching them, so it's generally more dangerous for whoever they're holding hands with than its worth.

14. is your character more likely to wear a necktie, a bowtie, or a bolo tie? (if any at all)

Again, no clothes. But I think Cephas would enjoy a good bolo tie.

15. have you ever said something as your character that stuck with you for a while after? what was it?

Oh lord. Uhhh... hm, well there was this one thing but it is very dependent on the context of the moment. Which is that they were talking with another character who was frustrated about not knowing things, and talking about how in order to be people you have to ask questions even if you don't get answers, you have to keep asking questions. And then they discovered something that was a step in a mystery they'd been trying to deal with and Cephas said "and sometimes you do get answers" and I don't know why but that one did stick with me.

16. what does getting flustered look like for your character?

Stuttering. Awkward hand movements. Maybe reverting to the old "I am but a simple construct with no consciousness" trick if they're really feeling out of sorts.

17. does your character have to glance at their hands to remember left and right?

Ha, no. Cephas knows what they're doing, unlike me.

18. does your character have stuffed animals? would they if they could? what kind?

Hm, no, xe doesn't. But I think they would if they ever settled down and stopped traveling. Even if Cephas can't really feel the softness, they would like it. And they'd be very careful with them too. As for the kind... I'm thinking those, like, huge round ones? Fuck there was a name for them. Squishables?? I think???

19. does your character walk or run down stairs?

Walk, typically. Running could damage things lol

20. if your character saw a turtle stuck on its back, would they flip it over?

Oh yes 100%. And also try and talk to the turtle and see if it needed any further assistance.

21. has your character ever climbed out of a window? would they do it again?

I don't have a moment in mind specifically, but there's no way Cephas hasn't, and they would absolutely do it again.

22. what’s your character’s ideal way to wake up? what usually wakes them up?

Cephas doesn't so much sleep as... go into Obedient Construct mode for four hours, which is to say they will obey any order given to them. Ideal way to wake up from that is in some weird/compromising position because it means his friends were messing with them and they love that. And they can't be woken up unnaturally, so its just that after Four Hours something in their head goes Ding and they're back.

23. what’s the pettiest thing your character’s ever done?

Dyed a nobleman's hair bright pink because he was kind of rude to them when they were pretending to be a normal construct.

24. what made your character the angriest they’ve ever been?

Cephas... doesn't really do anger, generally. But! There was a man who pretended to be a prophet of a god, and collected a small group of true believers. And then he took over a town, and made the townsfolk slaves. And that really got to Cephas, in a very personal way. (They did take care of the man and they still have mixed feelings about doing it.)

25. how does you character smile?

With great effort. Cephas wasn't built to emote, so any facial expressions are subtle and take a lot of concentration and effort to make happen. Over time they've gotten more practiced at this and can do it almost without thought, but it's still the smallest movements for a great amount of toil.

26. does your know the names of their constellations? how did they learn them?

I think, some of them? Cephas lived with her best friend's family for a long time and I think they would've learned some of them there. But then they also definitely made a game out of making up constellations and naming them whatever they wanted, so it's a toss up whether what they know is a real constellation or one they made up and then forgot they made up.

27. do/would your character draw or write on themself?

Oh yeah, for sure.

28. would your character race someone to the top of a tall tree for bragging rights?

Not for bragging rights, but absolutely yes Cephas would race someone. And they would lose because they are big and heavy and not made for climbing, but its more about the fun of it than the winning or the losing for them.

29. is there an artist whose style you associate with your character? (visual or otherwise; poets and musicians, etc. count)

Hmm... not really?? I don't really associate artists with my characters. My friend drew Cephas once, so I think that's the closest I'm gonna get to that. Maybe Delta Rae? I feel like Delta Rae has got those witchy vibes, and that makes me think Cephas.

30. how has your character’s first impressions of their party members changed since they met them? have they stayed the same?

Oh this is delightful because when Ceph first met the party, they were pretending to be a normal construct, so the DM was 'playing' them. Which meant I got to sit there and watch, and so I wrote down what Cephas was thinking. They only met the first three members of the party that day, but I literally have it written down that it was three "good first impressions" because one of them stole a book, another one turned invisible to draw a face on a trash can, and the third called Cephas 'interesting'. Overall impression? A group of messes who just went through something tough and are not dealing with it super well.

Current impression? A surprisingly competent group of messes who are working through some stuff, and very much don't like talking about their feelings. Also, I'm invested.

Seriously though it started out as Cephas thinking they seemed fun and wanting a distraction, and now Cephas is like actually really invested in all of them and their growth and wants to help them as much as they can.

[morfinwen]

10 Facts: Lauren, Ian, Aidan, Ash, Avery, Nate, and Elarin, please!

Here’s your 70 (!) facts:

10 Facts about Lauren

1. She gets along best with her oldest and youngest brothers. She doesn't not get along with her sisters (sometimes), but their relationship can best be described as tolerance, and her closest brother Justin enjoys provoking her.

2. At one point she wanted to learn the flute, as it promised to be easier to carry around than the guitar, or the piano. Her parents couldn't afford to buy one.

3. She tried running away from home once at age eight, and considered making another attempt at age ten. Ian talked her out of it.

4. Her entire family, including aunts, uncles, cousins, and her older siblings' spouses and children, came to her college graduation. Almost all of them made it to the party her parents threw afterward. She nearly cried.

5. Lauren is always uncomfortable around her nieces and nephews -- she has four or five of them -- but if anyone made them cry, she'd punch that person in the face.

6. Knows more about comic book characters than her comic-loving brother Justin, thanks to hearing Ian talk about them in grade school, all the time. All. The. Time. 

7. Got a few part-time jobs in retail in high school. She hated it, but it meant she had enough money to buy clothes that weren't hand-me-downs or from a thrift store, so she grit her teeth and kept at it.

8. She still got fired twice for losing her temper with a customer.

9. She got started smoking because her dad is an occasional smoker. He got diagnosed with lung cancer a few years ago. It's in remission, but despite multiple attempts, he hasn't managed to quit yet.

10. Her mother's had three miscarriages, Lauren was old enough to know about two of them. It's a strange concept, having a sibling that didn't even live to be born.

10 Facts about Ian

1. He has a decided type: tall, confident blonde women of principle. He's fallen in love more than once, though he tends to get over it fairly quickly.

2. Thanks to his dad's need to travel for work, he has funky little souvenirs from 48 states. Lauren has none, though she actually traveled out of state in childhood more than once, and Ian only did once he was an adult.

3. Ian theorizes his terrible sense of navigation comes from his mother, after a fashion. She's perfectly fine with directions, she just has an abysmal grasp of time. She's forever arriving half an hour to two hours late or early to appointments, and she will either take half or twice as long doing something as she says she will.

4. He has fond memories of almost two weeks with just his dad at home, when his mom was helping her parents out after her dad had surgery. They ate out almost every night, thanks to his dad being a nightmare in the kitchen, and he never went to bed on time.

5. Her terrible sense of time aside, bedtime is sacred to his mother, and she's fanatical about her son eating his vegetables. She doesn't know about those two weeks.

6. He once tried to start a dog-walking business when he was twelve. It was a terrible idea. No dogs were lost, but it was a near thing.

7. He's the only child of his maternal grandparents' only child, so they -- particularly his grandma -- tend to dote on him. They also know nothing about any children other than their daughter, so it’s not as great a thing as it might sound.

8. He has several aunts, uncles, and cousins on his dad's side, but Ian's only met one of his uncles once. He doesn't know why, exactly, but he's picked up that his dad had a rough childhood.

9. He talked Lauren out of her second attempt at running away completely by accident: he thought it sounded really cool, but all his suggestions just made it clear to Lauren how unfun it would actually be.

10. Regularly listens to the top 40 in the car, more to keep abreast of what's popular than because he likes it, though it has introduced him to some songs/artists he enjoys. He always has to turn off the radio if Lauren's riding with him.

10 Facts about Aidan

1. A big factor in his identity crisis was that, growing up, he didn't fully recognize he wasn't human. It's obvious now, of course.

2. Tried to enlist in 1941, after Pearl Harbor. He ... doesn't know if he actually served.

3. For as long as he can remember, he's always had this sense of where his sister is. It makes him wonder if his mother is dead, or something like it, since he's never been able to sense her.

4. Aidan generally gets along with Nate pretty well. This is surprising -- or, maybe not? -- given that Aidan has a really hard time understanding the concept of death.

5. Aidan has a lot of trouble with certain concepts in general, like that other people need more than 4-5 hours sleep, he should really let people know before he disappears for a few weeks, and that rules about not touching personal property don't just apply to the things he wouldn't touch anyway.

6. Given the things he's willing to do, or has done, some people might think he has no sense of dignity. He does, he just doesn't care that much.

7. The second-least accepting of having Q in the house, mostly out of a sense of loyalty to Nate, the least accepting. It had nothing to do with Q personally.

8. Until he met Ash, he'd never met anyone who had any idea what species he was. It seems incredibly obvious in hindsight.

9. Considers himself a lapsed Episcopalian.

10. When he finally went back to his hometown, nearly fifty years after he'd left, there was almost nothing left of it. It left him with a greater sense of loss than anything had before. Which wasn't a lot -- very little makes Aidan sad for very long -- but it was notable.

10 Facts about Ash

1. Ash's mother did not know her father, grew up with three sisters, and her own mother had two sisters and no brothers. She fully intended on having a daughter. Having a son was a surprise, but one she adapted to quite well.

2. Until he helped his great-aunt with managing her finances, Ash didn't really know how money worked. As it is, he knows how to make the numbers come out right, but that's pretty much it.

3. His grandmother laid down the law in his house, and even her adult daughters were careful to follow every mandate. She was fair, but stern.

4. Appearance-wise, he takes after his father more than his mother's side of the family, though judging by his aunt Iris that's where his height comes from.

5. He's not as close to his aunt Lily as he is to his mother or aunt Daisy, but whenever he was having a bad day he'd sit in her parlor and listen to her play the piano.

6. He knows he has a few cousins on his father's side, but he's never met them. His dad never figured out how to explain to his family that he had a son with the woman that did "work" on his truck once a year, so they don't even know he exists.

7. Since he knows how to manage Lanzo, most people assume he knows him well. He doesn't. He really doesn't. Lanzo just listens to Ash more than others for some reason.

8. Ash gives the best hugs. Everyone agrees on this point.

9. It sometimes baffles him that someone as intelligent as Connie can forget to eat or sleep.

10. His aunt Iris taught him to read poetry and monologues/soliloquies from Shakespeare aloud. He doesn't do it often, but if he needs to distract himself or someone else, or in certain other rare circumstances, it's quite effective.

10 Facts about Avery

1. Despite all the negatives associated with Anders being a former Grey Warden, Avery is honestly relieved that it makes it unlikely they will ever have children.

2. Avery thinks of Merrill as a younger sister, Aveline as an older one, can't imagine a better drinking buddy than Isabela, and has a great deal of admiration for Fenris after everything he's been through. That said, every single one of them gets on her nerves sometimes, and there have been moments where she wished she had never met them.

3. There's a moment in the game where Fenris implies that Avery might feel negatively about mages, after one murdered her mother. I actually spun around in the game to see if i could yell talk to him after that -- no such luck. Fenris was sent home immediately afterward, and didn't hear from Avery for two weeks. He came very close to never hearing from her again.

4. She relives memories in her dreams, sometimes pleasant ones, sometimes not. It makes mornings difficult, either way.

5. She's not much of a reader, but even if she was she'd never touch Varric's novels about her. She knows they're dramatized, but the idea still makes her uneasy.

6. Isabela never came back after stealing the Qunari relic. Avery never would have handed her over to the arishok -- she respects them as intelligent beings, but no further -- but given everything that happened after that theft, she's not sure she could have forgiven Isabela for it.

7. Her Chantry attendance is not very good, and gets worse over time. She believes in the Maker and Andraste and all that, but not with any passion.

8. She knows nothing about healing, her bedside manner is lacking (unless all you want is witty comments), and she's nowhere near methodical enough to handle medicines and supplies, but she helps out Anders' clinic in whatever way she can.

9. Cats are obnoxious, aloof, oversized rats that make her nose run and her eyes water, but if things in Kirkwall had been slightly more settled at any point, she would have let Anders have as many as he wanted. That's how much she loves him.

10. Growing up, her younger brother Carver got on her nerves, constantly. Apart from the guilt she feels over his death, her biggest regret is that they were never able to forge a better relationship as adults.

10 Facts about Nate

1. His dad died when he was seven. He has no particular memories of the man.

2. Has contemplated probably more than a dozen careers, mostly as a kid -- action movie star, paleontologist, professional skateboarder, astronaut, etc. Didn't settle on audio engineering until his sophomore year of college.

3. Loves both of his younger siblings, but he always got along better with his sister (María) than his brother (Víctor). She's very much the sweet, friendly type, whereas his brother is much more competitive and rebellious.

4. Low-key resents both his father and stepfather for never really being there for him, his stepfather moreso, since he at least had a choice about the distance he kept.

5. His stepfather is a mage, which is why Nate's a ghost now. It takes extensive contact with the occult for a human to remain as a ghost after death.

6. He loves his mama, but she was always anxious, particularly about raising her children in a big city, and a bit smothering. That's part of the reason he moved away for college.

7. He's never been religious, and during college all his friends were calling themselves atheists so he did too. While he's angry with any god that would let him die so young, if an all-powerful deity spontaneously generated that bus specifically to run him down, that would be preferable to learning there's nothing after death, and that his afterlife means as little as his actual life.

8. Knows a bunch of random trivia from watching Jeopardy with his siblings -- there were always reruns when it was too early to go to bed but too late to be outside.

9. He's always made friends easily, made more evident by his ability to build relationships with everyone in the house even in the midst of post-death depression.

10. He and his friends were extras in a movie once, as it was filming at their school. If it's ever on TV, he makes sure to watch the scene where they're skateboarding in the background.

10 Facts about Elarin

1. Like her parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and likely even earlier ancestors, she was born in space, on the freighter her parents worked on: her father was a mechanic, her mother worked in security.

2. She had a lot of siblings, older and younger, but she was the only one to be taken by the Jedi.

3. While she never liked being lied to, it wasn't until she learned how much the Jedi had lied to her about who she was that she developed such a hatred for it.

4. People closer than acquaintances can call her Arin. Her childhood nickname was Ella, but only Bastila, Meaghan, and Carth can call her that.

5. She's always viewed orders by authority as "suggestions". It's caused a few problems.

6. Elarin has a very charismatic presence, drawing a lot of attention and winning people over very quickly. She uses it occasionally, but she's never understood why she has it.

7. She's made the attempt more than once, but she's never managed to fully understand why her previous self fell to the dark side. She isn't sure if that's a good or bad thing.

8. While she's brilliant at war strategy, tactics is one of the few things she's neither excellent or terrible at, and during the wars she had to rely on her advisors to help her with them.

9. She can't remember anything about Malak from before, so all she really knows of him is his Darth Malak self. She still feels guilty about her part in that.

10. Because canon is dumb (and not even canon anymore), Elarin did leave after the events of KotOR 1 to investigate things from her past, but she returned not long after the events of KotOR 2. As far as official records are concerned, however, the former Darth Revan never returned from beyond the Outer Rim, fate unknown.

Thanks for asking!

[keen2meecha]

Novel Prep Tag: gifted

Thanks for tagging me, @aziz-writes! You’re a gem as always!

Note: I’m talkative, so most of my side comments are crossed out don’t mind me

First Look

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

After nearly failing the application test, a young girl rejected by a superpowered society for not having a superpower* of her own is accepted into Falks, a school that teaches kids how to be superheroes. But after an attack on the school nearly kills her and her classmates, she must learn to work with her new friends before one of her oldest friends is lost forever. 

(*’superpowers’ in this universe are called Gifts, and those who have them are called Gifted. The minority who don’t have Gifts are called Ungifted. The title is ironic and also a reference to a running joke Sofia has with herself)

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Novella, single book, book series, etc.)

It’s the first book in a series! Right now I have four books, but since I’m a chronic overwriter, that may or may not have to be extended to five books.

3. What’s your novel’s aesthetic?

Honestly? Aesthetics aren’t really my thing, so I’m not sure. Maybe soft warm colors, that surprised flutter in your chest when someone gives you a thoughtful present, the ache after yet another workout, that scratchy feeling in your throat when your right on the edge of crying but no one else can tell? This started out as a lighthearted superhero story I swear-

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

If you’re an anime fan, you’ll probably look at the general premise of this and some of the basic details of some of the characters and go “Wait a second, that’s a lot like My Hero Academia” and listen. I know. It’s not the same plot though, I promise! Really, at this point, I’d like to think that it’s undergone so many changes that the two are pretty decently removed, but *shrugs*. I’m not as pressed about it anymore. 

I was also loosely inspired by Harry Potter, simply because my book also takes place throughout a school year, so I’m using Harry Potter as a frame of reference for pacing (theoretically). That being said, trans rights and fuck JK Rowling am I right?

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for the novel

For the sake of saving space, I’ll not do that this go around. But imagine fireworks, a freshly brewed cup of tea, and an overwhelmingly expensive weight room and you’ve got a pretty good image of three important things in this book.

Main Characters

6. Who is your protagonist?

Sofia Smith! The Ungifted girl with a chip on her shoulder! Also an utter jock who usually wears athleisurewear and trust me, I’m as thrilled as you are about that. I don’t work out! I don’t even know what a healthy workout routine looks like! What have I done-

7. Who is their closest ally?

I’d say it’s a toss-up between Leona Kita, a girl she meets during the application tests who quickly becomes her new best friend and is not all that she seems, and Romilly Quirke, a teacher at Falks with whom she develops a close mentorship and is not all that she seems

8. Who is their enemy?

In the beginning, it’s Kyran ‘Kruze’ Cinege, Sofia’s childhood friend-turned-enemy. However, the turning point of the novel is when it’s revealed that while she and Kruze are always fighting (physically or not), there’s someone out there who’s actively trying to kill her and that person might be a more pressing threat than Kruze.

You may also see me occasionally mention The Prophet’s Daughter, who, like all of the important antagonists in this series, hilariously still doesn’t have an actual name. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

9. What do they want more than anything?

To become the top Hero it’s not bnha you weeb

10. Why can’t they have it?

She’s Ungifted, so no one believes she can do it. Not only that, but also every single other person in her class at Falks is highly qualified - they’re the most promising kids in the country, after all - and also highly motivated to do the same, so she’s got... a lot of competition.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

That she can hold up the weight of the world on her own - worse, that she has to hold up the weight of the world on her own. Among other things

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

Not an artist, but I can freely say that Sofia’s face claim is Amandla Stenberg (especially Hunger Games era Amandla Stenberg because, you know, high school).

Plot Points

13. What is the internal conflict?

She’s desperately lonely, but to admit she needs other people is to admit weakness, and to admit weakness is to admit defeat - something she absolutely cannot do. I mean, not really and it’s okay to ask for help, but she doesn’t know that. We’re working on it.

14. What is the external conflict?

Sofia is fighting the entire world to become a Hero and also someone is trying to kill her and her classmates. 

Oh and each book revolves around her relationship (platonic or otherwise) with one of what I call the ‘core five’ changing and developing in a radically game-changing way. In this book, it’s her and Kruze struggling to come to terms with elements of their past and maybe overcome their conflict to become friends again...? Except their both stubborn assholes and have been fighting for so long they can’t remember how to exist in the same room without one of them blowing up eventually (literally, in Kruze’s case) (I’ll probably talk more about the core five in a different post tbh)

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

Oof. Well. If someone died on her watch, that’d be pretty bad for her. Good thing that’ll never happen though! Haha...ha...hm.

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

Of this story? Shit maybe they weren’t after me after all. The story as a whole? Wait, you’re my what?

17. Do you know how it ends?

I actually have the epilogue of the last book already planned out! I will cry when I actually write it. But the end of the main plotline? Eh... I know who all is involved, and what all of the characters have evolved into at that point. But how Sofia and co. actually defeat the BBEG? I am... less sure.

18. What is the theme?

In this book specifically: it’s okay to step back and ask for help when you’re struggling - just because you can’t do it on your own doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be where you are.

In the overall series: something something found family something the power of friendship.

19. What is a recurring symbol?

Oh damn, this is a really good question. In fact, since I’m still in first draft mode (although I did write maybe a good quarter or so of a zero draft) I don’t think any have really emerged that I’ve noticed yet? But I guess I’ll come back and update this if I think of anything.

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

It’s set in a very fancy, very modern private school that’s on the edge of a city somewhere near Washington D.C. I’m... not great at describing environments/settings, though, so that’s all you get haha

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

Oh yeah, plenty. I have this whole book outlined, actually, on a chapter-by-chapter level! I got excited and also bored during my three-hour-interim between classes, and there was a whiteboard just asking to be filled... I even have some disconnected scenes from future books floating around in my mind - some incredibly emotional and poignant, some glorified shitposts. Ah, writing. It’s such a magnificent hobby.

22. What excited you about this story?

The characters! No joke, there are sixteen kids in the Falks class including Sofia, and every single one of them has their own complex backstories, motivations, and character arcs - not to mention I’ve spent a significant portion of time outlining each of their Gifts and figuring out how exactly they work. I could ramble about any of them for hours.

And that’s not even mentioning Sofia’s family, the villains, the teachers... I just really love every single character in this book!

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!

Step one: watch or read something. Anything. A movie, another book, a commercial, a music video, a tiktok, I’m not kidding just about anything will do. Step two: think ‘oh, I could do that better’. Step three: jot down some early lines or general ideas. Step four: leave it to stew for a little while as you think ‘oh jeez maybe I can’t do it as well as I thought’. Step five: get suddenly inspired on it and feverishly carve out several rough chapters. Step six: let it stew some more. Step seven: get newly inspired, realize how much has changed in your mind about that earlier draft, call that the zero draft, and actually do an outline this time. Step eight: ...Write it for realsies this time!

Whew, that was a doozie! Super fun though! So, according to the rules, you’re supposed to tag the same number of people as questions you answered. So there are 23 questions, and it turns out I’ve got exactly 23 people who (I don’t think) aren’t opposed to tag games, so here, have something besides a last line tag for once! Enjoy!

REMEMBER! You are under no obligation to do this - especially since this one can seem overwhelming. I’ll be thrilled if you do it, but I won’t be disappointed or upset if you pass.

Anyways, tagging: @alcego-writes, @alanwrites, @ajbrooks-writes, @evergrcen, @jewellsfrommaruss, @brookswriting, @signedjordan, @writhoelogy, @the-violet-writer, @dustylovelyrun, @linarious, @cookiecutterwrites, @honeyprincerising, @acaptainandhisrunaway, @angelolytle, @dogwrites, @mxxnwishes, @magicalwriting, @bisexual-in-progress, @writerfae, @ocmaker, @fullydevoted, @hanboggsbooks

[kunstpause-archive]

5 Questions for Writers

I got tagged by @elveny and looking at this I don’t even know where to start ? Let’s see if we can make a coherent post out of this

Tagging @curiousthimble, @midnightprelude, @captainderyn, @cornfedcryptid,  @elfyourmother​, @defira85, @edencalder @anchanted-one @tishinada @illegiblewords and anyone else who wants to do it - I’d love to see people’s answers but no pressure to anyone.

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

Of the ones I've written more for probably Aren Surana. I love all my characters to pieces and I always enjoy writing for Cassia or Amara - but Aren is closest to my heart and the things I want to express through writing her are some of the most important to me. Aren is autistic and shares pretty much all of those traits with me and it is very important to me to share her story and her perspective on things with others - and hopefully make the one or other person understand some things in the process.

That said Cassia is probably a close second place - writing her struggle with depression and working through it with familial support was something quite liberating. 

And lately there is Althea, my FFXIV OC which I have not yet published anything about but I’ve been writing a few bits and pieces for her and she is rapidly growing into a character I really enjoy writing.

The rest got longish, so under the cut it goes.

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

I love lighthearted miscommunication and I absolutely love writing more humerous things. My DA2 coffee shop AU was just pure fun to write. 

I also really enjoy a lot of the classic tropes from “there is only one bed!” to “we need to make out to hide from the bad guys”.

Also I found out through my fictober project with @elveny that I am enjoying the occasional writing of horror-themed things. (Those are all intentionally bad endings, so skip this if that is something that’s not good for you please.)

I wrote a so far unpublished “magic made them do it” story for DA2 which was also quite fun and I am currently in the middle of an enemies-to-lovers-to-weird-allies thing for Althea.

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

from my so far not published enemies-to-lovers thing for FFXIV:

He was the living embodiment of all that she hated about herself. The cold distance, the numbness, the utter boredom at the mundane, the miserable existence without a challenge… but something more dangerous somehow. 

A mirror of her undesirable traits would have been something she could have ignored but at the same time he managed to be almost everything she so desperately yearned to be. Unbound by the expectations of those around him, the freedom and single mindedness to follow his heart’s desire and the wild abandon with which he carried himself… He was everything she loathed and all that she wanted for herself at the same time. 

And he had the audacity to laugh at her.

This bit from a Divinity Original Sin 2 ficlet Fractured:

Amadia was there through it all, holding and soothing. Speaking soft words of consolation and compassion. Her old heart slightly breaking as she did all she could to help him hold on. On nights like these she looked at him with heavy thoughts. He had lost so much, endured so much. And yet she thanked all the powers still around her that at least for the moment he was still unaware of just how much. His beautiful, fractured mind saving him, holding back the greatest pain, the sharpest memories. She had done her best to shield him from his own past. Every time she could feel him push at his memories, trying to regain the last puzzle pieces she had woven images around them, pulling them just out of reach. Even with all the strength he had gained, all the power he had learned to master so far, Amadia was determined. Determined to keep him whole and away from the what would surely tear him apart if she didn’t intervene. She needed him whole after all. At least for a little while longer. And so she kept holding him, comforting him the only way she could.

“Rest now, my child. Lay down your burden and let me keep watch over you, my dear, dear child." She could feel his mind relax and starting to drift. Away from the memories, the past, the truth. Lulled by her warmth and her words. One more night where he would be unaware, that those words had once been his own.

And I am very partial to this nsfw bit - Bull trying to distract Amara from the murder happening in Halamshiral

Cold stone against her skin as she was roughly turned around and pressed against it. More clothes carelessly pushed aside. A bruising grip on her hip pushing her into place. When the first sharp sting of pain on her thighs went through her she let out a relieved sob, pushing back against his hands, her whole body pleading for him to continue. This was what she had wanted. Needed. And he gave it to her. Again and again until she could think of nothing else but his hands on her flesh and his voice in her ear.

She had lost all sense of time when he turned her around again, lifting her up enough to enter her in one swift and fluid motion. No matter the amount of pain, she was dripping wet for him, her body reacting instinctively to his touch, rough and forceful as it was. His pace was ruthless. Unforgiving he pushed her into the wall again and again. She felt the pleasure building up, growing with every sharp thrust until it was almost bursting when her heart dropped. 

The music.

It had stopped.

For a second her eyes went searching in the direction of the lights. Head turning. Were those screams she heard or was it imagination?

Bull’s hands closed around her, covering her ears almost entirely as he turned her head back, forcing her to look at him instead. “Don’t listen!” His words were a low grumble but somehow sounded like both, an order and a plea at the same time. He pushed into her faster, his iron grip around her not letting her move even the smallest bit as he pushed her over the edge and she came with a soundless cry on her lips.

Amara’s eyes had fallen shut, the only sound she could hear being the noise of her own blood rushing through her ears. Again she lost track of time, feeling almost like she was floating in his arms. When she finally opened her eyes again Bull was looking at her with so much love and determination on his face she felt something warm in her chest. It was small. Just a spark. But something she was almost desperate to hold on to. She could also see the worry written all over his face and she sighed deeply, before kissing him softly. “Let’s get out of here. Leave for Skyhold right away,” she mumbled against his lips. She closed her eyes again, her forehead against his as she felt the relief running through both of them when he agreed without second thought.

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

this bit from a Hands of Fate related one shot about DAI times:

“I can’t believe Varric wrote a book about me,” Cassia muttered under her breath. “I don’t even know if I should be flattered or extremely embarrassed.”

“I would go with flattered and avoid ever reading it,” Dorian suggested with a wink. 

“Oh definitely!” Josephine agreed. “Don’t read it.”

“Ever.” Cassandra’s dry voice added shortly. Bull still didn’t say anything but he was visibly amused by everything that happened.

“So you’ve all read it then?” Dread was on Cassia’s face. “How bad is it?” She eyed the book as if it was a particularly nasty dish she had to eat.

“Not that bad!” Josephine was quick to say. “Really, come to think of it, it is barely worth mentioning.” Cassandra and Dorian nodded eagerly. 

“Well, in my defence I actually haven’t read it, I just skipped through the highlights where Josephine had folded the pages.” Dorian was grinning madly at Josephine’s embarrassed squeak. “I must say Ambassador, I am impressed! I did not expect this from you.” 

Cassandra tried to save the situation with a last desperate attempt. “There seems to be a lot of... artistic freedom in the book,” she tried to assure Cassia. “Things so obviously outlandish that no one will ever think those actually happened.”

Somehow this had the opposite of a calming effect on Cassia. With a very sceptical look she stared the Seeker down. “Really? Like what?”

For the next few seconds Cassia got to experience something that most people believed was absolutely impossible and could never occur. But at a loss for words Cassandra seemed to actually squirm in her seat. “Like, uhm… like…” 

“Like the scene in the chantry!” Josephine helped her out and Cassandra nodded thankfully. 

“Yes, like that one! Something so ridiculous… No one in their right mind would actually believe that actually happened,” she explained eagerly, obviously hoping to put Cassia’s worries to rest.

“Chantry?” was all Cassia got out, feeling her throat closing up. 

“Page 225 onward,” Dorian supplied helpfully and quickly moved aside, barely escaping another kick from Cassandra.

Almost mechanical Cassia turned the book to the page he mentioned and glossed over it. The little voice that had told her ‘the scene in the chantry’ could mean all sorts of things died a tragically painful death as soon as she had started to read. She felt her cheeks flaming up. “Crap!” she whispered. “He is going to kill me.”

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

The last scene of my enemies to lovers thingy - it’s what started the whole idea and I have it in my head but I am not going to write it until I wrote the bits before.

Also I have so many headcanons about Ascians I need to write some scenes at some point. Just to get it out there.

Certain scenes from the sequel to Hands of Fate are also high on my list of things I look forward to write. But I am forcing myself to write things chronologically bc otherwise I will never get done with the re-edits.

And there is a Heavensward friends-with-benefits ot3 scene I have had in mind for a while. Some day.