#I need to throw myself at the wall like spaghetti

[deliciousdietdrpepper]

Ngl the more I live the more I watch trans men talk about going on testosterone the more I’m overcome with SEETHING jealousy and grief. I want to take my time and figure out my feelings but my feelings then send me little messages via extremely pointed dream symbolism like giving myself a t shot.

[superblysubpar]

potentially very silly thought that’s been on my mind for forever so feel free to ignore! but stevie has glasses right? but he never wears them bc he doesn’t like how they look/doesn’t believe he really needs them (spoiler: he does). imagine dad!steve’s little baby comin back from the doctor and needing specs :( and his kid is all sad bc they think they’ll get bullied and that they look silly, but dad!steve puts on his like “see? glasses are cool, bud!” and they wear them together <3

dad!steve harrington x mom!fem! reader

a How Sweet It Is story

summary: steve's kiddo doesn't want to get glasses | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is

1.7kwords

Spring, 1993:

Steve rubbed at his forehead as he stirred the spaghetti sauce on the stove. Grace had fought him for hours, screaming and crying and throwing toys at him. He knew that all she needed was a nap but she refused, insisted that she wasn’t tired and wailed with a set of lungs that gave her Uncle Eddie a run for their money. He’s used to headaches by now though - too many hits to the head over the years and what felt like a constant squint to see things clearer, toddler tantrums were nothing when it came to the things that caused him headaches. 

But that didn’t mean he wanted her to wake up anytime soon. So when the loud crack of the front door handle hitting the wall pulled him from his thoughts he rushed out of the kitchen, hushing loudly. Whisper-shouting to you and your oldest, “Hey, hey, Grace is finally asleep!”

Nora kicked the wall as she tried to take off her shoes and coat at the same time, a flourish and frenzy of tiny grunts and zippers clicking together. Yellow dots on her sneakers lighting up and the yellow of her rain coat a fast moving blur - yellow was the color, or so he’s been told repeatedly by her in the last two weeks. He looked past his yellow blob of movement to see you slowly following her up the steps, rubbing your temple. 

Oh boy.

Nora was six. Opinionated and strong and curious. Sometimes she shocked them with her big ideas and her logic-searching questions, but every once in a while they were reminded she was in fact, a kid. A tiny human with too big of feelings and not always the right words to describe them. Right now, he’d bet money on some very large feelings bubbling up inside of her, and he just didn’t know if he could handle another tantrum. Her brown curls a mess like she’d run her hands through them too many times (a habit you’ve pointed out she picked up from him before she could walk), her face flushed and her jaw clenched, tiny hands trying to get her coat off too quickly and a furrow between her brows when it wouldn’t cooperate. 

Steve bent down to her level, hands reaching out towards her, "Hey cutie, slow down. Let me help-"

"No! I can do it myself!" tiny hands forming fists and a fury behind her eyes that would be alarming if she wasn't so small and cute. This was another new development - dad yellow is the color of the moment and oh by the way I’m a big girl now. It’s a lot for a dad to wrap his head around. 

Steve raised his hands up in surrender, "Okay, sure."

As you closed the door softly, Steve looked up and mouthed, "What happened?"

You gestured to your eyes, forming glasses with your fingers as you mouthed the word at the same time. 

His brow furrowed because why in the world would she be so upset about glasses? Heart breaking that she’s obviously incredibly worked up about something that isn’t really an argument if she needs them. 

As she flung her coat to the ground and went to stomp around it he snaked his arm around her waist, "Oh no you don't,” she huffed and crossed her arms as he squeezed her waist, “Nora, what's wrong?"

"I don't want them!" she cried out, stomping her foot against his thigh as he stood up holding her.

Steve pushed a stray curl from her forehead, faking obliviousness, "Don't want what? You gotta catch dad up here."

Her chin wobbled as she looked anywhere but at his face and his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. How can she hate glasses so much? She’s six! 

Nora clings to his neck as he goes back to the kitchen, the heat turned down and stirring it once more as they sat in silence, her little huffs of frustration mixing with the bubbling sauce. He’d wait patiently until she wanted to tell him. You followed wordlessly behind, pulling down a cup for water and setting it across from him. Steve’s arm supported under her butt and he leaned against the counter to face you. 

Nora spoke finally, quietly and forced out of her pouting lips, "Glasses."

Steve rubbed her back with one hand, cheek resting on top of her head and sighed. She was way too big to hold like this anymore, and he missed it. 

"Baby, why don't you want glasses, huh? Lots of people wear glasses,” you questioned softly from your spot at the otherside of the counter. 

Nora mumbled into his neck, "Daddy doesn’t like them. People make fun of glasses."

Steve made eye contact with you over the top of her head, swallowing harshly and blinking away tears. A small and sad smile rested on your lips. You leaned your chin into your palm and sighed, raising your eyebrows at him. 

His heart dropped into his stomach as he set her down on the counter and cleared his throat, “I love my glasses, what are you talking about?”

Nora shook her head quickly, curls flying everywhere, a deep breath as crocodile tears fell down her cheeks. Voice wobbly and on the cusp of some big sobs ready to break as she spoke rushed and loudly, “No. No you do-n’t. Mommy, you, y-you told Mommy that…that…” she hiccuped but pushed on, “Losers wear glasses. And, and Jacob…hims said…he…people who wear glasses are weird and, and…”

As Nora kept going Steve clenched his fists against the counter. He’d take back any and every thought he’d had about glasses if he could. He could throw up from the guilt swirling in his stomach, that he was somehow a part of the reason his little girl was so worked up about something she needed. Something so tiny and materialistic. He’d fix this. He had to fix this. 

“Woah, woah, who’s this Jacob kid and what does he know, huh?” He kissed the top of her head, pushing curls from her face that clung to her wet cheeks.

“Jacob, daddy,” she sighed his name out, bored and exasperated like Steve should know while she hiccuped again.

Steve nodded, face serious as he snapped his fingers and you smiled from behind her, “Right, that Jacob. Okay, but babe, Jacob doesn’t know what he's talking about. He doesn't know the super special secret."

Nora's hands swiped at her cheeks, "Secret?"

Nodding he chucked the side of his knuckle under her chin and handed her the glass of water, "Super special secret."

Nora's eyes went wide above the rim of the cup and you bit the inside of your cheek as Steve nodded and leaned in, "Only people who wear glasses get to know the super special secret," he glanced at you, “Oh, and mommy’s.” 

"Tell me," Nora whined, fidgeting and tugging at his shirt.

"Well, the secret is, is that people who wear glasses are super duper crazy awesome. They can see better, like superhero vision,” the small white lies building as her smile grew and he spoke with his hands, “And because they can see better they can read faster and get smarter. They can see so good with their glasses that they can sneak into the kitchen in the dark for late night snacks and-"

You made a disgruntled noise from the back of your throat and shook your head, mouthing the word no, but tried to hide your smile. 

Steve grinned wider at you but Nora frowned, not buying it. Too smart for her own good as she countered, "But, daddy, you don't wear your glasses. And you said lose-"

"You're right, I did say that,” he bit the inside of his cheek and ran his hand through his hair before waving them around, “But that's because I didn't want anyone to know how cool the super special secret is. But now," he leaned in and kissed her forehead, "I can wear mine all the time because I'm not alone! We can be crazy awesome together."

"Really?" Nora looked up at him, wide eyed and hopeful and he had to blink back tears again. 

"Really, really," he brushed the last stray tear slipping down her cheek, "Go grab mine for me and we can head to the store and pick out yours together."

He lifted her and set her down and she raced away. Steve fell forward onto the counter, moaning as he pressed his forehead to the cold tile. 

He listened as you stood, holding his breath until he felt your arms wrapping around his waist. A kiss between his shoulder blades before he spun to face you. 

He pressed his nose into your cheek as you whispered, “Good job, dad.”

He huffed, not unsimilar to his daughter and mumbled, "I hate my glasses."

You hummed, running your hands up his back before speaking, "I love your glasses,” you laughed and kissed his jaw, voice laced with fake shock and wonder, “And why would you hate them? Didn't you hear the super special secret, Steve?"

Moved to your neck, he grumbled, "Ugh, I'm gonna punch that Jacob in the face."

A laugh bubbled out of you as you squeezed his waist, a kiss to his temple as you reminded him, "He's six, Steve."

"Right. Well. Maybe his dad then," he kissed your neck and removed himself as tiny feet raced back down the hall.

"Woah! You're right daddy! I can see crazy awesome!"

He stood up fully to see Nora zooming around the corner with his glasses on her face too big and dangerously close to falling completely off and you covered your smile with your hand.

He swiped the glasses from Nora and slid them up his own nose. Picking her up he smiled and asked, "Should we go pick out yours now?"

Nora nodded excitedly and bounced up and down once her feet were back on the floor, energy radiating off of her as he tied her shoes and zipped her coat. 

When they returned home, she nearly broke his arm, she was tugging so hard, "Mommy! Mommy! Look, look, look!"

You came around the corner holding his sleepy toddler and grinned, "Woah! Yellow! Crazy awesome!"

As he turned to close the door Nora beamed and shouted, "Daddy said the yellow was even more super special because yellow would help me see the cookies waay on the top shelf better."

Steve bit his lip as he spun to face you shaking your head, a smile twitching on your lips. He shrugged and stole Grace out of your arms with a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled, “Yellow is the best color, mom.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

[mantisgodsart]

[Tonight I dreamed of teeth and claws and what felt like a million grasping hands chasing me through an endless field. The air smelled of sulphur and acid, and I could tell something was watching me, far beneath the moss and earth.

I woke to find I had been shedding wing scales in my sleep, and that apparently one of my primary containment chambers was registering a foreign presence within it. The only thing there when I checked, however, was Mal, who is supposed to be there - and certainly not supposed to be registering as an intruder.

I hope I don't have to update containment over this. Rescribing every little knot in the weave every time I need to strengthen or add to it gets tiring, when you have to do it multiple times a month. Maybe I should start looking for an apprentice again, if only so I don't have to maintain the entire laboratory myself.

There's an old joke about this sort of thing, charmsmiths only getting an apprentice when they need to make sure someone's take down notes about the experiment that kills them. I'd like to think it's more simply making sure that my knowledge doesn't die with me...]

One of the two left over from @bug-oc Round 1, Mal from @sushiikando gets a post all to their own, just like a Round 2 contestant! This is both because zey're a big/complicated design and because we... really aren't gonna be done Pola any time soon. Which is probably what we get for making a comic, even a short comic, while in the time of summer where we actively struggle to think. Oh, well. We'll get it done eventually.

More details under cut, as usual - despite our enthusiasm for walls of text, we don't particularly want to completely obliterate your dashboard. We're getting kicked in the dick by fatigue right now, so further ones might take a bit - we've got Maria sketched out, and Pola's comic only really needs painting and accompanying story, so all fates willing, it shouldn't be too too much of a holdup. There's an abundance of things that we would LOVE to be doing right now, but heat does awful things to our brain, we're still feeling off from being sick, and with tourism season in swing to boot even with our current medication it's an uphill battle to get ourself to do anything at the moment. Hopefully, this clears up soon. For now, we're still very much alive.

First things first - wow, this one took a few drafts. Although not really an originally anticipated difficulty, the lack of reference of just what Mal looks like under that coat made a lot of our original ideas fall a bit flat unless we wanted to make something up from whole cloth. Marigold's transmutations don't include clothes by default, since actively incorporating inanimate objects into an animate body is both difficult and much, much fussier than usual when you're using Marigold's particular methods.

We tried a few initial designs that stopped at that point, then tried at incorporating the coat into the design more properly a la the more "abstract" brews, but after a few fell flat, we sort of... just started throwing spaghetti at the wall, so to speak, and spaghetti stuck. The body patterns here are, for the most part, entirely made up. Maybe the patterns distorted, maybe they didn't - we don't know what's under the coat and we will likely never learn. It's probably fine.

Our primary inspiration here is eastern dragons, particularly the mythos of the koi who climbed the waterfall - the colors and patterns of Mal's design reminded us of koi patterns on first glance, and after a few drafts, we started running with the concept, using both Mal's wings and the shape of the lab coat for "fins". Runaway To The Stars's Bug Ferrets also provided some inspiration (particularly in the face - if you click the link, those mandibles might start looking very familiar).

We also took some amount of inspiration from theveryworstthing's REMwolf series, particularly Laika and The Morriss Dragon, though a lot of the particularly body-horror-y and sillhouette-breaking effects we might have wanted to include in a more detailed piece got nixed by a lack of time. We cannot take the duration of the entire tournament to draw one Round 1 contestant, unfortunately. Even if we wish we could've gotten a bit more detailed, and we very much would've liked to tinker with working in some design elements akin to Sea Legs or Guard Dog or Biology Lab, we're very nearly a full month overdue by now. We have other contestants to paint, and so we must move on.

...fuck, this took a while. Thank you for being patient with us while our brain's scaffolding falls to pieces! We dearly appreciate it. Hope you have an excellent summer!

[marmie-noir]

Bar Top Goodbyes

I struggled with this and idk why. This scene was what inspired the whole thing in my brain while watching the show the first time. I've given up on editing and double checking, so I am throwing this out and running away. If there are mistakes please forgive me!

TW: Smut. MxF smut, no protection, dirty talk, Mitch Keller.

“M’sorry, could you say that again darlin’?” Mitch asked, half asleep next to me at the small kitchen table. He was cute like this, sleep clinging to him like a warm blanket, making his movements a little slower and his voice full of that gravel that made butterflies go crazy in my lower stomach. His hair was still a bit mussed as well, falling over his forehead instead of held back by his usual hat. 

“I wanna say goodbye to the bar today.” I repeated, watching him slowly process what I was saying. 

He blinked before scratching his jaw, his other hand wrapped around a steaming cup of fresh coffee that he apparently badly needed. “Sunny,” He hummed, a little amused. “The bar isn’t going anywhere.” 

“No,” I agreed, giving a little one shoulder shrug as he sipped at his coffee. “The building isn’t. But after the renovation it’s going to be different. Which isn’t bad, but I wanna say goodbye to it before men with sledgehammers go at her. Plus, we need to grab our pictures.” Last night at closing Mitch had informed everyone that Bred-2-Buck was going to be temporarily closed for renovations. He wasn’t sure how long, but he intended to pay everyone’s salary still, and our jobs would still be there upon the bar’s reopening. 

Unlike the others I knew the bar wasn’t just closing for the renovations, that this went far deeper than slapping a new coat of paint on the walls and fixing that leaky faucet that drove us all crazy. That motorcycle gang was getting antsy, it was escalating, and Mitch wasn’t going to risk anyone getting hurt in any crossfire. 

He let out another little hum, finishing off his coffee, the caffeine ever so slowly brightening his eyes and making him perk up. He worked late so it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t exactly a morning person, but I did appreciate how long it took him to actually wake up. 

“That is a good idea, better grab some stuff before we forget.” He said, deep voice rumbling in the kitchen. “We can swing by Maureen’s Diner on the way home and get more of those muffins you like.” “A perfect plan.” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his temple as I got up to go check on Pops and get ready for the day. 

A little over an hour later Mitch was unlocking the back door to the bar, keeping his truck parked out back so it couldn’t be seen from the road. The large sign out front stated in big bold letters that it was closed for renovations, not another soul around. 

I went towards the front as Mitch ducked into his office, flicking the lights on as he did so. I had the jukebox start playing on shuffle, wanting a little background noise, the volume low and the crooning of old country stars comforting with how familiar these songs had become since I started working here. 

Busying myself with collecting our pictures and newspaper clippings I made a neat little pile on the bartop, not wanting to damage any memories. They would go back up after the reno, Mitch had promised as much. 

In truth I had another reason for asking Mitch to bring me to the bar this morning. I hadn’t lied, I wanted to say goodbye to the place that had changed my life, but probably not in the way Mitch thought. 

Tucking teh photos away into an envelope I pulled myself up to perch on the bar, glancing at my own reflection in the back wall mirror, the rows of liquor bottles not really obscuring anything. Because I wasn’t working I had opted to wear the other sundress I had bought while shopping with Ann but hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. This one was a cream color with a lilac print, delicate spaghetti straps holding it up, the skirt landing about mid-thigh. It made me feel pretty, and I need the boost of confidence. 

Smoothing the soft fabric over my thighs I steeled myself. Yes, I had come to say goodbye to the bar, but I had also come here to finally seduce Mitch in the very spot we first met. 

It wasn’t as though we didn’t know one another intimately at this point, but we had never gotten around to actual sex. At first I felt self conscious about that fact. Did he not want to, had I done something wrong? 

Ann had been the one to reassure me. “Sugar, the way that man looks at you? I don’t think you could do something wrong. He’s a patient man, probably wants to make sure you are sure.” 

And god was I sure. Since I met Mitch all I could do was fall more and more in love with him every single day. I had boyfriends before, even an ex-fiance under my belt, but no one even came close to making me feel how I did around him. No one could touch how happy I was falling asleep and waking up in his arms, cuddled up together all cozy and warm. Not to mention the way he touched me. 

Mitch Keller touched me with a reverence that made me almost shy. His big hands on my skin while praise left his sinful lips. Pretty girl, good girl, his girl. So good for him, so perfect. 

He rarely let me focus on his pleasure either, insisting on making me fall apart under him, on his lap, touching me in a way that made me see stars and had every thought flying out of my head. I was more than ready for this, my want for him bleeding more into a need weeks ago. 

Shifting slightly where I was perched, already a little hot and bothered, I smoothed my hair one last time before deciding to just go for it. Pushing down the little anxious demon whispering in the back of my mind that there was a reason we hadn’t had sex yet I cleared my throat before calling out to him. “Mitch, could you come here please?” With only the jukebox quietly playing I knew he could hear me, reassured at the sound of his bots on the floor drawing closer. He appeared around the corner and flashed me a smile that I couldn’t help but return. He was carrying a box which he sat on the bartop, walking over to stand directly in front of me instead. 

Mitch looked as handsome as ever, in one of those back t-shirts that hugged his biceps just right and showed off his broad shoulders. He had on dark jeans with his usual large belt buckle and boots. 

He seemed to be in a good mood. I was worried maybe being in the bar would have made his nostalgic and a little sad but he seemed eager to upgrade the bar. With a familiar shine in his dark blue eyes his hands rested on my knees before sliding up the sides of my thighs, stopping just below the edge of my panties and rubbing reassuring little circles against the skin there. 

“Have I mentioned how pretty you look in this dress?” He asked, leaning in and looking down at me with an obvious appreciation. 

I tilted my chin up to meet his eyes, grinning. “Just nine times in the last hour.” I teased even though I probably wasn’t far off on the count. The moment I had stepped out of our room in the dress he had started to lay it on, giving me a little whistle. “Mm, can’t have that. Better make it a good, even number.” Mitch said with that little half smile on his lips, leaning down and brushing a few kisses down my neck before pulling back just enough to meet my eyes once more. “My girl, so pretty.” I was blushing but my grin never fell. Reaching out I hooked my index fingers into his belt loops and pulled him closer, chin tilted up in an obvious ask for kisses.He let me pull him closer, my legs parting to let him slot between my thighs. Giving me a teasing look with a raised brow Mitch didn’t say anything. He did reach up though, one of his big hands weaving into my hair and giving it a gentle tug, making me tilt my head up just a bit more before capturing my lips in a heated kiss. 

Apparently he was taking advantage of our alone time, leaning into me a bit more as he kissed me breathless. His free hand slid from my thigh to my lower back, pushing gently to bring me completely to the edge of the bar, pressing our bodies together with a pleased hum in his throat. He felt so good, warm and solid, the smell of his cologne and tobacco making me whimper. 

Breaking the kiss we looked at one another, both a little breathless. His hand in my hair moved down to cup the back of my neck, his thumb slowly brushing against the sensitive skin there. 

“Did my pretty girl need something?” He asked in that honey tone, a ghost of a smile on his lips when he saw how much the kiss had gotten to me.  

I blinked up at him for a few moments just taking in the way the low bar lights made him look. I had known meeting Mitch at this very spot not that long ago that he would become special, I just hadn’t been sure how. My fingers unhooked from his belt loops and instead a few of them brushed against that big silver belt buckle he always wore, one from when he used to ride. Glancing down at it a moment I wet my lower lip. 

“I need you.” I said quietly, chin tipping back up to meet his gaze head on. 

There was a moment of surprise before it melted into a heated satisfaction. “Me, honey?” He asked, voice low, head ducking down to brush our noses together as his lips ghosted over mine. “You need me?”

I nodded, eyes fluttering closed as I felt his lips trail along my jaw. The brush of his facial hair and his warm lips was a mix that had me sighing happily, one of my hands sliding under his t-shirt to brush my fingertips against the dark trail of hair that disappeared into his pants. “Please, Mitch.” “How can I say no when you ask so pretty?” He murmured against my skin, his teeth grazing over my jumping pulse as he’d now made it down the side of my neck. His hands came up, looping under the thin straps of my dress and slowly sliding them off my shoulders, the dress falling to expose more cleavage but not falling away entirely. He made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, duck lower still as his lips and teeth found my collarbone. 

I leaned back slightly, one hand behind me on the bar to steady myself while the other grabbed his hat, setting it aside on the bar top before returning to weave into his hair. He liked that, sucking a mark on my upper breast as he continued to trail further and further down until he hit the fabric of where my dress was still covering me. 

“Been thinkin’ about this, pretty girl?” He hummed, pulling the dress gently. The one small tug was enough to have the fabric pooling around my waist, leaving my upper body bare before him. Mitch didn’t wait for my response, ducking his head and capturing one of my nipples in his warm mouth. I gasped, thighs squeezing his hips and his nipped and sucked at my breasts, his hands sliding back up my sides to cup them and squeeze gently. “Mhm.” I whined out, biting at my bottom lip as I tightened my hand in his hair. Mitch continued to kiss down my stomach towards where my dress was pooled, his hands sliding up my thighs now to push the skirts up. I pulled on his hair, hard enough that he lifted his head, surprise clear in his eyes as I’d rarely stopped him from going down on me.  

“Everything okay, darlin’?” He asked, leaning up to steal a few chaste kisses from my lips. “Don’t want your mouth, Mitch.” I murmured, nipping at his bottom lip. My hands worked on undoing his belt as I lured him in for more sweet kisses, one working on sliding the leather through the buckle and the other palming him over the top of his pants. He was half hard already, the press of him against the denim and my hand making me smile against his lips. “What do you want?” Mitch asked between teasing kisses, both of us tasting one another, his hips pressing forward as I touched him. “I want you to fuck me on top of the bar.” 

He groaned at my blunt words, his hands that had been slipping up my thighs grabbing at the sides of my panties. “Up.” I stopped touching him a moment to have both my palms flat on the bar top, using the leverage to lift my hips so he could pull my underwear off and into his pocket per usual. Immediately his hand was on me, two thick fingers pressing into me without any warning. I gasped, arms shaking, eyes going wide as I looked up at him. He gave me that heart stopping smile, thumb finding my clit and circling as his fingers pumped in and out of me slowly. The cool press of his rings against me had me gasping, back arching slightly at the mix of sensations. “So wet already.” He murmured, leaning down to kiss me again. I moaned against his lips, my own hands moving back to his waist. His belt finally was undone, the jingle of the buckle loud between us. It was hard to think when he was knuckle deep inside of me, those thick fingers curling just right, pulling out and thrusting back in with wet noises that would be embarrassing if I had enough brain cells functioning to form thoughts. But every push, every time his thumb circled my clit, had the new thoughts flying from me until all I could think of was Mitch. My hands were clumsy but I was determined. I undid his pants and he made no move to stop me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and sliding against mine. He tasted like sugary sweets from breakfast and minty toothpaste, a combination that had my hands pausing for just a moment before I was working his zipper down. I didn’t even tease, feeling a little desperate at this point. My hand slid into his boxers, wrapping around his cock and giving him a firm stroke. He moaned, low and quiet against my lips, and the sound had a shiver racing down my spine. My thighs tightened around his hips, heels pressing to his lower back, trying to pull him closer with a whimper as I slowly stroked him from blunt head to thick base. “Please.” I asked against his lips, the two of us stealing the other’s breath. His hand never paused between my legs, instead he sped up, forehead pressing to mine. “I need you to cum before I can fuck you, pretty girl. You are so fucking tight, don’t wanna hurt you.” I had no words, a desperate noise leaving me as the wet sound of his fingers fuckign into me filled the space around us, the low tones of the jukebox melting away as I looked up into his pretty blue eyes. My hand paused on his cock but he didn’t care. His pupils had nearly swallowed the iris, his hair a little messy from my hands early, lips parted as he watched me. 

“C’mon baby, just one, and then I’ll fuck you on the bartop. You asked so nice.” He said, voice low and honeyed, making me tighten around him. Mitch knew I liked when he talked, the rumble of his words over my skin was the best. “Such a good girl for me, c’mon.” His thumb rubbed at my clit a little faster and I was done for. 

I cried out as I came on his fingers, thighs shaking against his hips, my hands finding purchase against his shirt. He made a pleased humming sound, leaning down to press kisses against my neck and cheeks, pulsing around his index and middle finger with breathless moans and whimpers.  

When I blinked my eyes open I found my back against the bar, looking up at the old ceiling tiles and panting. Mitch was leaned over me slightly, pressing kisses to my chest and throat, murmuring praise as I came back. My hands lifted to weave into his hair and he let out a quiet laugh that was pure male satisfaction.

“You okay, darlin’?” He asked, looking up at me with a little smile. 

I pushed myself up, albeit a little shaky. Mitch didn’t poke fun, instead he helped, a large hand spanning my mid-back and helping me. I looped an arm around his neck, my other hand tugging at his shirt. “Off.” “Yes, ma’am.” He said, his smile immediate. I took my hands off him as he pulled his shirt off, leaving him in a pair of unzipped jeans, the imprint of his hard cock obvious against his boxers. I bit my bottom lip, excitement and impatience mixing with my blood. I looked up at him, legs hooked around his hips, pulling him closer in an obvious ask. 

“I know darlin’, I know, I’ve got you.” He said, his hands pushing the skirt of my dress up so it was pooled around my waist and looking down at where I was wet for him. He kept one hand on my thigh, grabbing hard enough that my skin was indented slightly between his fingers, his other hand reaching down to push his boxers down. 

Mitch Keller had a pretty cock. There was no other way to say it. Long enough to make my mouth water, thick with veins that I knew I would be able to feel. My lips parted, eyes lifting up to find him watching my expression. He moved me closer, perching me right on the edge of the bar, my legs around him. He rocked his hips, the length of him grinding against me and making me gasp, grabbing at his upper arms to steady myself. “Oh my god.” “You okay?” He asked, hand tightening on my thigh as he rolled his hips once more before pausing, giving me a moment to let my brain come back online. My lips parted when he moved but I took a deep breath when he paused, gathering myself before giving a small nod. “M’sure. Please, don’t stop.” I said, looking up at him. 

Mitch leaned down and captured my lips in another kiss. This one seemed needier, as if my plea did something to him, his kisses almost hungry now. At the same time his hips pulled back, no longer grinding against me, instead lining himself up to slowly thrust into me. I gasped against his lips as he pushed forward, pushing in, the stretch more than his fingers even with how wet I was and how he had prepped me. 

He took advantage of my gasp and kissed me deeper, sinking deeper at the same time, every thick inch stretching me in a way that had me clinging to him. Mitch kissed me like I was the air he needed, teeth and tongue tasting and teasing me, his breath warm and his lips soft. I felt his hands slide around my body to reach down and grab my ass, his chest pushing me further down on the bar top as he pulled out only to thrust back in hard enough to make me moan. 

“Fuuuuck, my perfect fucking girl.” He ground out, teeth finding me neck as he started to fuck me against the bar, body half pinning me down, completely in control of every movement we made 

All I could do was hang on and take it. One of my hands remained woven into his hair and my other found his back, nails biting into the warm skin of his shoulder blade as we both panted against one another. His own hands remained on my ass, tilting my pelvis slightly, ensuring he slid as deep as possible. I felt like I could taste him on the back of my tongue, my legs wrapping around his hips, heels pressing against his lower back as I felt each thrust hit deeper and deeper as I saw stars. 

The wet sound of skin on skin filled the bar and I moaned, back arching off the cold hardwood, my dress stuck around my waist as his hips kept up their relentless pace. “Mitch- fuck, oh fuck please.” “There we go, I’ve got you honey.” He gritted out, voice taking a growly undertone that did something to me. Mitch saw that, he noticed every little reaction my body had, adjusting his angle slightly to ensure the blunt head of his cock hit my g-spot while his pelvis ground against my clit every time he bottomed out. “That’s it. Perfect fucking pussy, perfect fucking girl.” 

He pulled back slightly to look down at me, his eyes dark with lust and unspoken affection, each thrust and his hips slamming into mine making my body jump slightly on the waxed surface. But he kept a firm hold of me, possessive even, hands tightening to the point of near pain that mixed with the pleasure and had me whimpering and moaning. 

I knew I wasn’t going to last long, already sensitive from when he got me off with his fingers. My noises grew in pitch, eyes growing wide as I looked up at him. “M-mitch-” “Gonna cum? Good girl, give it to me. Wanna feel you.” Mitch’s voice nearly a growl at me, looking down the lines of my bodies where his cock disappeared inside of me, each thrust having the most desperate noises fly from my mouth. It was one of the most sinful things I’d ever seen in my life, the image burned into my brain for the rest of my life. One of his hands shifted to my thigh and then under my knee, pushing my leg up a bit more to adjust the position, pushing deeper. 

He leaned back down and kissed along my jaw, unbothered as my nails bit into his back or when my hand tightened in his hair. “Where do you want me, Sunny?” My lips parted in a moan, balancing on the blade’s edge of an orgasm. My brain felt stuffed with cotton, skin warm and the feeling of our sweat slicked bodies moving together almost overwhelming with how good it was. I blinked up at him, eyes hazed, and he repeated his question with a deep grind, my thighs shaking around his hips. “Inside, please. Please, fuck please.” I gasped, the idea of him pulling out sounding like the worst possible thing I could ever imagine at this moment. 

He apparently liked that answer, his pace picking up, the slap of skin on skin and our panting breaths mixing together. It didn’t take much longer before I cried out, face pressing to the crook of his neck as I reached my peak. 

It felt like someone had set off sparklers under my skin, the pleasure a wave of tingling euphoria that had me moaning against his skin as I clung to him. Mitch was true to his word though, he had me, his chest against mine as he leaned over me and smothered my neck and jaw with kisses as he fucked me through it with soft praise on his lips. 

“So good, sweet girl, I’ve got you- that’s it.” All of his words sounded far off but still comforting as I clenched around him, thighs shaking against his hips and back bowed off the bartop. 

He wasn’t far behind either, his pace picking up a bit before going sloppy, each thrust grinding deep and making me gasp. “So. Fucking. Perfect.” Mitch groaned, each word punctuated with a thrust, his hands tightening on my body to hold me in place until I felt his cock twitch inside of me, a warmth blooming deep inside. He moaned, low and sinful, his forehead resting on my shoulder as he came, grinding deep in a way that had us both gasping. 

The come down was warm, his body hot against mine as he relaxed and put a little more weight on me. His hand holding my leg up gently hooked it around his hip instead, rubbing at the joint to make sure any ache I felt wasn’t permanent. It was the brush of his facial hair against my jaw though that had me humming, arms looping lazily around his neck as I cuddled against him. 

His arms wrapped around my middle to keep me as close as possible, skin to skin comforting as we both worked on catching our breaths. I made a content little sound and nuzzled against his neck. “You okay?” He asked, voice low and a little breathless, but sounding warm and pleased. I nodded, knowing he’d get me some water in a little bit. “Mhmm.” I hummed, feeling a little boneless. “All according to plan.” I said, voice a little dreamy as I pressed a kiss to his pulse. 

Mitch let out a surprised laugh, leaning back and taking me with him. I didn’t tense up, trusting him as he lifted me up off the hard bar top, one arm around my middle and the other grabbing my thigh to make sure I wasn’t going anywhere. “C’mon darlin’, let’s get you cleaned up and take a quick nap on the couch in the office and then we will go get those muffins from the diner you like.” 

I looked up at him as he carried me towards the office, taking in his flushed cheeks and mussed hair. I was sweaty and sticky and satiated, and the idea of a nap sounded like heaven right now. I didn’t respond but did lean up, pressing my lips to his for a soft kiss, pleased that my plan had worked.  

More Sunny and Mitch here!

[bardicbeetle]

Holidays are fucking weird.

Probably not for everyone, but they’re weird for me, the eldest daughter turned eldest disgrace. The queer one who “hates everyone” now. The trans piece of shit who changed their name and won’t stop shaving their goddamn head and keeps bringing home that quiet tall boy. The eldest grandchild on one side and the eldest grandchild with a cunt on both, the one who is supposed to be popping out grandchildren of their own by now because you’re 26 and you’ve had a partner with a cock for nine years, hurry it up already. The displaced and back in their shitty ass hometown, the jobless and the liar and the ungrateful irresponsible mess.

Holidays are weird for me.

I don’t get along with a lot of my family, I can play nice for a few hours but it’s exhausting. I don’t like the urge I get to hypermasculinize myself when I have to be around them just for the hope that I will maybe get misgendered and misnamed 10% less if I do. I don’t hate them, I am angry with a lot of them but that is not the same as hate. Hell, a whole half of my family barely knows who I am at this point. Seeing my maternal side over the summer for a funeral was a strange dance of this is not the place to come out. Because I do not want to be the one in trouble for starting “Drama” at an open casket. It’s easier to swallow a name that isn’t mine anymore when I know they don’t know. When the only person who could have told them is not even bothering to try. But. I never expected much from Sabra.

Holidays are weird.

I don’t know who I am right now and that makes it harder. I think maybe this year has just been too much, and in trying to escape it I have twisted that into needing to escape my own self alongside it. I cut my hair to control something. I eat food I enjoy. I write until my fingers ache and my brain feels like it’s melting. I scream and I cry and I test out names and clothes and characters and nothing quite sticks. I am throwing spaghetti at the wall knowing it’s still raw, and trying my best not to resent those around me for whom progress seems as easy as breathing.

I’m not going this year.

Not to my family’s anyway.

I will go with my partner to a smaller gathering, where I will be called the right name (or whatever passes for it right now) closer to 90% of the time, even if the gender thing is still understood to a degree of zero. And it will be easier. Lighter. Less judgemental than the people nearer by. And I will miss my brother and my best friend (who he is married to, what luck), and maybe a little bit I will miss my parents. But everything else is a fuse I do not wish to ignite.

[kingprinceleo]

Hey! Big fan of your comics and art! Just wanted to say I ALSO love your vampire AU!

I just want to say that it's ok if it feels like your story is falling apart. This happens to me too. But sometimes our stories have to fall apart for things to come back together better than before. And even if you don't pick up the story again in the same way, it's such a fun and dramatic AU and I love seeing any and all your art about it!

This has happened to me too!

As someone who's been constructing my own AU for literal years, I 100% understand your pain and frustration. (I have been crafting my AU since Forces released in 2017. Then redid the AU within the context and canon of the IDW comics. Then again when Frontiers released because I'm tying all those together. I will make Forces a more coherent story even if it kills me!) I've been working on my AU for 7+ years at this point and there were a lot of times where it felt like everything I built up was falling apart. But with enough time, giving myself room to breathe, things that I loved about what I had made, it came back to life, albeit years later.

What I mean to say is, you don't have to give up on the narrative you made. If you need/want to because it's too stressful, people will understand. But also don't be afraid to let your ideas take new shape and forms, you may like what you revise more than what you crafted originally! Anyway, this hopefully is encouraging and I hope you have a wonderful day!

hughghhbuhhh thank u, me when other people are very nice to me and tell me things are going to be ok and im not alone and its not the end of the world hhggubuh

idk i just feel the vampire au started getting away from me when i tried to throw in so many bad guys and started taking everything way too seriously- the original vision was always meant to be silly and not some giant grand plot, but then i started really connecting with the versions of the characters and wanted to give them more, and i just kept throwing more stuff at the wall without really fleshing things out and now i feel all tangled up in ideas i only half like and code spaghetti .its just been so distressing and has killed my mood for entire days sometimes

currently, the ideal tonal goal for vampire au would be kinda mashing Splatoon story modes and dungeon meshi together- pretty lighthearted and very silly but Watch Out

its just so hard to try again on a clean slate bc my brain is just so adjusted to the old version its hard to come up with anything new to replace stuff with </3

and man good luck with tying you own au together !! u got this !! have a good day as well !

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

Writer's block is legitimately killing me so I'm doing a whole mini character study on the tss characters in my au. Here's Virgil and Remus.

Virgil is the spymaster. Not the guy cloaked in shadows and riches who directs the spies — oh HELL no. He's the tattered servant that none of the rich people think twice about. He's paid very handsomely by the king (Thomas, in this) to listen in on conversations and gossip and report it back to him. Virgil loves his job. Nobody expects him to be the one who has all the secrets and yet he does. He reports them to Thomas and his advisor (Janus, in this case) and then they are the ones who send out the spies and handle their diplomacy based on the new news.

Think meek and shy man in one room absolutely shedding the facade and going back to confident and scathingly judgemental (like Janus stops pretending to be Patton in that one episode). He's obviously still himself but he's got a sensitive job.

Remus is Thomas' son — one of them, at least. He (along with Roman) are princes who are also training to become knights. Or maybe they're knights already. I haven't decided. But he's known for being the scarier of the two and the one you don't mess with. The rumors about him are WILD. He's truly harmless but there are rumors about him threatening someone for simply coughing in the same room... It's a fake rumor, but one nonetheless. He's really just a sort of interesting guy. He likes the macabre. He's also SEVERELY understimulated doing diplomat work so he usually doesn't. He does a lot of strategy in battles and is known to be quite ruthless. Obviously y'know save the innocent but the people coming against his own army? P i s s o f f.

Also they probably work together. Or the stuff Virgil tells Thomas gets told to Remus by Thomas.

Are they gay for each other in this? Haven't decided! Probably. I still need to iron out relationships and stuff. And everyone's jobs. And roles. And quite possibly the plot. Mostly the plot. Entirely the plot.

Help the writers block is so intense. I wanna throw myself against the wall like wet spaghetti. But like have my sillies^ and tell me what you think

— 👑

Holy shit this AU sounds S O fucking cool oml!!! L O V E how nobody expects Vee to have all the secrets manz has a role to play and he's gonna do it right XD Also L O V E Ree being a man of strategy and ruthlessness in combat he's gonna do everything in his power to protect his people but he does what he does regardless of false rumors he's just a soon to be Knight trying to get by <3 (King!Thomas is a very underrated concept and I'm O B S E S S E D thank you)

[gothicprep]

whenever someone wants to broach the subject of why sex scenes in film & television have all but disappeared, I feel like I pretty much have always disagreed with the conclusions they draw. like a lot of it seems like the people who author these pieces are flinging spaghetti at the wall. there’s always the possibility that I’m being unfair, but when I’m reading something about this subject and I’m just being hit with “neoliberal housing crisis police abortion #metoo trans rights algorithm capitalism trump COVID Palestine” it’s sort of like… what the fuck are you talking about lol. please stay on topic. don’t throw a shitload of progressive sounding words at me to trick me into thinking your meandering essay is convincing.

(these are real examples from an essay that was so bad about this I couldn’t finish it. is this SEO or some shit? but luckily I can say this wins out for “worst palestine take ever” because – I cannot emphasize this enough – what the fuck bro.)

I’ll grant that because we live in a market economy, it’s important to factor in the business side of entertainment too. i try to factor that in when I write about movies on here. but sometimes I’ll read the word “capitalism” and I feel like more often than not, it’s kinda invoked like a thought-terminating cliche. Though it’s definitely true that as movie budgets have ballooned, they’re more geared towards general audiences.

in terms of the cultural reasons, i think it’s mostly burnout tbh. you’ve read so many think pieces about why hookup culture sucks, why modern dating sucks, that people are opting out of this stuff because they don’t want to deal with this. and this is coming off the heels of millennial sex culture from around a decade ago, where the ethos was basically “be a messy bitch”. and now a lot of those people are in their 30s, they’re looking back and saying “this was all really emotionally bad for me”. if you want a visualization of the kind of thing I’m referring to, lena dunham’s “girls” imo captured the moment really well. I’ve always kind of thought Gen Z’s revulsion towards sex scenes is in part to do with the association with uncool old fuddy duddies. because the impression I’ve gotten from those complaints has been less that their thinking is “sex icky”, it’s more like… the equivalent of watching a coworker who just went through a breakup get really into “return of the mack”. you think it’s cringey. you think it’s extra. I’m not articulating myself well, but I hope I’m getting my point across anyway. it’s not surprising that film would come to reflect this to an extent.

so, what do? honestly, just wait it out. the pendulum always swings back. it’s really not a big amount of time you’ll need to sit around for. and there are plenty of old movies you can go back to in the meantime.

[crossover-it-all]

Summer Party!! (Fandom-cross it all Story)

In the Summer day, some of fandom are make fun in the beach in the summer party with the calm beach song and sound... in there, Afika (Author) are relaxed in beach chairs with the umbrella [yup that me, don't ask why]

Afika (Author): *takes deep breathes and sigh* what a peaaaccceeeefully day in the beach...

Oliver from Fundamental Paper Education (FPE) comes into the Afika (Author) to disturb and tease her, but Afika (Author) is doesn't want to interupt so Afika (Author) ignored him, until Oliver bring go away from there... and run into Afika (Author) to hit her with his bats, but got shooted by Afika (Author) with her gun and makes the bats throwed and hit the button of TNT Traps that Zip and Edward from Fundamental Paper Education (FPE) that they not ready to prepared...

Zip and Edward: *looks each others* uh oh...

BOOM!! The explosion coming out at behind of bushes. knowed what happens and see it, Cuphead and Mugman was laughing as they run from there and Sherrif Toadster from Garten of Banban try to stop the fires with throw the water into there... Meanwhile, Papyrus that going into the rest place... he see his spaghetti gone from the table and see Sam from KinitoPET hides his Spaghetti on his back...

Papyrus: SOMEBODY TOUCH TE MAH SPAGEHTTI!! *Slaps Sam and throw him into the wall of stone then hits him with his Blue Bones*

Bonnie (FNAF): *watching what just happening at other place* Why did everyone being aggressive at this Summer Party? I'm also have feels that Bendy wasn't here despite he was cannot swimming, Especially with the Blue Hedgehog right over there.

Sonic The Hedgehog: oh yeah?!

With angry face, sonic throws the bottle but Bonnie from FNAF and Bonnie's Bakery dodge it and it hit back of the Funtime Freddy as he look back with mad and prepare to shoot but...

Bon bon: uhh... i think... Freddy, this could be the lesson is forgiven and forgiving...

Funtime Freddy: ... *Throws Bon bon from his right hand and shoots them with frustation*

Bon Bon: *get throwed into the Burned Bushes* that little jerk...

Meanwhile, the Dark deception Monster's boy are sit in the beach chairs awhile they talks each others until...

Rockstar Foxy: *comes from his Pirate Ships* ...ur are the pirate!!

Rockstarts Foxy jumps from his pirate ships awhile "You Are The Pirates" song with high pitched began until the Rockstars Foxy accidentally jumped from trampoline and falls into the ocean, however his green parrot bird hits the black button and one of the cannon fire the bullet and...

Golden Boy (Super Wings): Haha!! This time, That Jetty boi won't going- *hitted by Cannon Bullet into the nearest building* ow...

Reaper Nurse (Dark Deception): aww you poor thing... *Summons her giant needle* HERE HAVE A PILLS!!

Meanwhile with Afika (Author), welp... she still relaxed on her own and Kinito from KinitoPET coming to meet Afika (Author)

Kinito: umm... Afika, don't you knowing something? ... *sigh* Afika, Listen... you must know that there alot of people are gone missing from every each of Fandom, you got it? ..... *facepalm* Afika, are you even cares about what happen to each of the people? I know you were need breaks but... could you just please to listening to me-

Afika (Author): i know, i know... but first, can anyone stop the music?

Flower (BFB): ... *throws the radio and the calm beach song stop*

Afika (Author): If you ever says what are you thinking to me, it seems like there still a way to find what happen while this my secondary Account of tumblr rarely posting anything than my first account of tumblr, and finding out who playing with our times...

Teddy (Terror At Oakheart): but that is the fact, However... i don't know it was just only me or just got feeling that we just walks in the same time while we in different place and sky...

Afika (Author): welp... if that was true, i will talking to myself about this problem...

°•●~THE END~●•°

(That all folks, sorry if the story was cringe and absurb, in the fact... all of this cringey and weird story, it will give some of little pieces of story about the truth of theirs problem and... lore? Hope you like it, cya!!)

[elusivegreen]

I dedicate way too much brain space to the idea of, if I were to exist in a fantasy setting, how would I present myself. I suppose it could even be shortened to more of a, what would I be if I could be anything, or, what is an idealized self.

I use costuming to play with this idea. What do I feel comfortable in, what's fun for me, what makes me feel bold, or confident. Cosplay is always fun and it's a great way to meet people of similar interests, but things like our Renaissance festival where people tend to go, more original with D&D characters, or Original characters, or their own avatars from different games feels like the right place to experiment with that.

I've been iterating those ideas for a long time, and honestly, not learning much. I tend to swing way too wide from one thing to the next and don't learn any lessons. I change too many variables at a time and tend to not carry over even pieces. Very much, throw spaghetti at the wall, and see what sticks.

I've been trying to pay a little more attention at least to, what I like and what I want to incorporate again these last few years. I've also accepted that as I grow and change as a person, what I like and how I perceive myself, also changes, so it's very much a moving target. There isn't going to be a single costume that satisfies all my desires, and I stop making new ones. Just, not going to happen.

I will say however, one thing I've started to embrace a little more, is that, if it's a supposed fantasy setting, it doesn't need to be accurate. There doesn't need to be a historical precedent or culture its based on. Doesn't need to be functional. Yes if I were traveling around the world by foot in ye olde times I'd need a bedroll and cookware and a multitude of things but, I'm not, it's all make believe and I can travel light. Doesn't need to make sense. Can absolutely just throw together whatever. And in all honesty, it should be a little slutty.

Now, I use the term slutty to just kind of shorten, anything that makes you feel bold and confident. If you look good in plate mail, slay. If you want to strut your stuff in a kilt, or be mysteriously wrapped in a large cloak, go for it. Slutty doesn't mean leather bikini armor but if it's fantasy, I wouldn't say no to someone wearing that either. If it's for fun I'd rather see a bunch of people being their most fulfilling self.

[themournwatcher]

How do you come up with your ocs? Like what's your creative process

ahh the dreaded creative process question...

sometimes it starts as music or a song that i'm attached to and i build off of that. sometimes ur listening to a song and you're like "this would go hard as a solo fight scene in a shitty freeform show" and you just gotta run with that.

usually for ocs in established media i try to eke out some of the themes already there and interpret it in my own way! "how would I explore this" vs how the creator or other fans do.

usually though when it's original characters for my original fiction or maybe d&d/pathfinder, i kind of... have to work on it for a little while. a lot of the times the character starts out as a vision in my mind and i have to determine how they got there; developing early life concepts is a huge thing for me because i feel like family and community in your formative years will greatly shape who you become (for better or worse).

oftentimes it does come down to using ocs as an outlet and building them around what i'm feeling: grief, loneliness, love, hope, anger. anger is a big one because i'm a pretty angry person; not in a way that i try to display to others but just inside. sometimes im ashamed of my anger, so how do i make a character who isn't ashamed of it and can express it? does this help me as an outlet? also trans feelings. 100% i am making trans ocs to explore the way i feel and relate to identity, gender, and sexuality. idk this feels very not good explanation LOL

for me i throw spaghetti on the wall until something sticks. once an idea has me it doesn't let go: for example, melchior; i knew i wanted a bard. i knew i was playing curse of strahd. how do i make a character that fits into the setting? i had him come from ravenloft and made him downtrodden, cynical, but still with a belief that he has a duty to minimize harm. even when it's hard. even when he can't always do it. because i need to find a way to do that. and forgive myself when i can't.

[ashleywool]

Hello! Saw the show on Sunday and loved every second! I'm also a non-union performer who is neurodivergent (ADHD with anxiety comorbidity though I suspect it could be something more) and I've lately been struggling with navigating the audition process and its characteristics (loud waiting rooms, disruption of routine, long travel days, over stimulation of NYC itself) with my how my brain works.

I also live a bit far from the city so I usually need to weigh pros and cons when deciding what to go out for. And I find I'm constantly weighing the effects on my mental state against the opportunities it could give me. Are their things you or your cast mates do to help accommodate during situations like that? Do you think their are accommodations that the theatre community could put in place in audition spaces to better include neurodiverse talent?

To be clear, the actual audition part of it never bothers me it's always the easiest part. I just find I feel completely fried by the time I get in the room because of what it took mentally to get myself there.

Either way How to Dance in Ohio is such a breath of fresh air and I hope it manages to find life after Broadway either on tour or in schools or maybe a spot off-broadway. It has so much more good to give.

Ooooof. I feel this. All of it. I'm originally from northern Westchester and I spent many exhausting commutes doing exactly this.

I would honestly say the best thing you can do for yourself is to join Equity if you are eligible. It's a better audition experience all around, you can sign up for appointments in advance on the member portal and view projects that accept self-tapes, AND it will get you in the room for better jobs.

If you aren't eligible yet or just don't feel ready to compete on that level yet, I'd recommend focusing more on local projects over the big NYC cattle calls. I don't know exactly where you live or what your regional/community theatre scene is like, but I do know that those theaters are the ones that are struggling the most right now and could use people who are passionate and want to build their resumes. It's a lot easier to get seen and get cast, you'll be able to keep your day job and not tunnel-vision your life around waiting on line for crappy nonunion tours that charge Broadway prices but pay minimum wage, AND you will likely meet a lot of people who will get to know you much better and more personally than a casting director ever could in a 2-minute window.

Keep in mind, also, that when you walk into a professional audition and a casting director looks at your resume, they don't care how much you were paid for a job or what kind of contract you were on. And they don't care how you got your Equity card. The only people who care about that stuff are bitter judgmental actors who need the gatekeeping to feel better about themselves (and no matter what your answer is, they won't like you anyway). The people who actually matter only care that you're on time, prepared, friendly, open to direction, and right for the role they need.

As for actually doing the professional NYC audition grind, here are some pro-tips:

-Opt for appointments and self-tapes over "open calls" whenever possible.

-CONTINUE being selective about the projects you go out for. Trust me, I did many years of the "throw all the spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks" method, and it doesn't work, and it will only burn you out more.

-Don't overthink your audition material. You don't need exact 16-bar cuts of ten different in your book for every style of musical theatre. You can do the "overdone" songs and monologues if they fit who you are and the roles you can conceivably play. It's New York. Everything is overdone. YOU are not overdone.

-Dress comfortably. Sounds obvious, but it took me way too long to realize that no, really, I do not have to wear heels to an audition. Be strategic with layers.

-Get a rolling suitcase over a backpack. Way less strain.

-Noise. Cancelling. Headphones. Also, make playlists of your "comfort" songs and your "motivation" songs and your "wind-down" songs and your "zone-out" songs so you have predictable, appropriate background noise to whatever you're doing--commuting, waiting in the holding room, eating lunch, etc. Preferably songs that are not from musicals and have nothing to do with whatever shows you're auditioning for. Auditioning is a job and you need a work-life balance there too.

-Do something else in the city unrelated to auditioning or performing. Go to a museum or a park or just a cute coffee shop where you can just EXIST and not perform.

I hope these help <3

[esther-dot]

I think many of us forget about ASOIAF being a medieval-ish fantasy written by a non woke older white guy? That's why I think Rhaegar and Lyanna will be portrayed as a straight up tragedy with the prophecy given central importance. Maybe we've had way too many years to ruminate on the intricacies of Rhaegar, so he's now morphed into scapegoat for George's inability to get these books out!

Is this why I always get so many followup messages whenever I answer one about Rhaegar? We’re all just taking our frustrations with not knowing the ending out on this dweeb? 😂

Like you, I think it’s likely Martin is more favorable to Rhaegar than we are. Obviously we should base interpretations/ spec on the text, but I don’t underestimate the fact that we come from different worlds and as a result, what he intends isn’t necessarily how I’ll react.

But I’m not annoyed by those who adamantly believe Martin intended us to read him as a villain. Art can spawn contradictory interpretations which can all be reached in good-faith, and rarely totally encapsulate all the truth the work has to offer. I happily talk about hating Rhaegar while I entertain the idea that the author thinks his harp-playing prince is romantic, and I reblog Rhaegar hate as well as offer takes like the parallels with Biblical David which might indicate a more favorable view of him.

When I respond to messages, I basically view it as throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks. That means, I’m often entertaining a few, contradictory ideas myself, so I certainly don’t think we all need to agree, I don’t even think that’s a good goal. The only thing I object to is how quick people are to interpret each other in the worst way and/or malign them.

I am not a Rhaegar apologist for suggesting Martin intended us to think Lyanna went with Rhaegar willingly, and someone who says she was kidnapped isn’t in denial. We’ve simply interpreted the clues differently which is fine!

Anyway, I’d like to read more of your take. Could you elaborate on the prophecy having central importance? Or maybe send a link to a post about it that you think explains it well? I’m curious!

[jello-xo]

Genuinely need some advice about smth so FOLKS WITH HAIR-RELATED SENSORY ISSUES WHO HAVE LEARNED HOW TO MANAGE THEM pls consider stopping to hear me out bc i need someone who knows what they’re doing

I have a lot of sensory issues regarding my hair. When it’s long it’s too heavy and when i can actively feel it touching my ears (especially at home) i go insane and when i pull it back into a hairtie it pulls my scalp like 75% of the time and I get too overstimulated trying to redo it over and over again and shut down.

I cut it short recently, really short, above my ears short, and it seriously helps with sensory EVERYTHING. It fixes all of that. But over time, getting progressively worse, i hate the way it looks, and now it’s gotten to the point where I physically cannot look at myself in the mirror sometimes bc I an deeply disturbed by how *not me* i look. And i feel like i have to pick between the lesser of two evils: having a meltdown because my hair feels Too Much, or having a breakdown because I don’t look like me. There’s one easier solution to this, wearing a headscarf, because I still feel like me (arguably moreso than i do with my normal hair) and i can’t feel my hair but it doesn’t tug. Only problem: I can’t do that at school. Theoretically, i could, but it’s not mentally worth all the trouble every single goddamn person on campus would give me for it. I just wouldn’t be able to deal with that.

So i figured i’d scream into the void and see if someone answered back. Does anyone have any advice for how to deal with hair-related sensory issues while still having medium/long hair? Pls pls pls any suggestions, i’m just throwing spaghetti at a wall at this point

Btw i’m really tired and writing this on mobile and i don’t have the energy to proofread so sorry if anything’s unclear

[aurora-australis-tumbles]

Can I ask 9, 12 and 20 from the Deed Fic Writer asks

9. what's your writing process like? I was so tempted to just put a gif of the keystone cops running around here and call it a day, you have no idea. 😂

Ok, so genuine answer... usually I get an idea (either a prompt from someone else or an "oooooh wouldn't THAT be interesting to explore?" from myself) and then I spend the next couple days if it's a short story or six to ten weeks if it's long one just adding notes about it to a file on my phone. Anything from plot points to dialogue to things to look up later. The last time I did this for a long fic I had 10K words before I even started a google doc.

I do not recommend this method.

Not the jotting ideas down as they come, that's actually great, 10/10 it helps my Swiss cheese brain actually remember things I've come up with and I love it. It's the getting SO much random stuff down before I ever start the real WRITING part that I don't recommend, because then I often wind up writing more than one story — inevitably when I throw all that spaghetti at the wall some stuff winds up contradicting other stuff, some just doesn't make sense against the story that eventually takes shape, etc. and then I have to kill a lot of darlings I didn't even need to have in the first place. Which is not to say that's not the regular process of a first draft, I just wish I was starting the real writing part — and not the suuuuuper long brainstorming part — a lot earlier these days.

12. What’s your perfect environment to create/write? Some kind of background noise (usually music), comfortable chair/desk set up, and a significant chunk of time to work. Time is the big one right now. For a while now I've only managed to carve out writing time for a few min a day and when I'm trying to write anything of length, that just gets demoralizing. It's a real life issue I hope gets a little better in the not too distant future, but for now, it's where I am.

20. What’s the greatest gift you’ve gotten from your writing? The friends I've made along the way. 😂 No, but yes, that really is it. Not just the other people in fandom — who I have found to be some of the loveliest people ever, yourself included — but also collaborative partners like @arlome and @lechatnoir1918. I have met so many interesting people though my writing, and I just consider myself the luckiest duck on earth that we drifted into each other's orbits this way. ❤️

Thank you for the asks!!

deep fic writer asks

[wutheringmights]

I've just found Call Them Brothers and I am so in love with the way you write Warriors, Time, and Wind. The characterizations are all fascinating and they all feel like real, breathing people and it's super impressive. They're definitely my favorite characterizations I've found in any lu fic and I just wanted to say thank you for giving such complex characters such a fascinating and cathartic story.

Also, the way you have crafted the plot together and connected so many different narrative threads into what I can only describe as a gorgeous tapestry is absolutely masterful. You are truly composing one of the greatest and most well put together stories I've ever read. As a writer myself, I feel like I'm learning so much about how to use stylistic choices to better support plot threads. I absolutely adore CTB so thank you very much.

If it's alright, can I ask how you manage all the various plot threads and especially all the political intrigue?

I hope you have a lovely day/evening and thank you so much for Call Them Brothers

Thank you so much! You're really kind and I'm so happy you like CTB so far!! This story has been a big experiment of just throwing stylistic spaghetti at the wall and seeing what happens, so I'm glad you're enjoying it.

I am a proud preacher of the importance of character drama in a story. Any genre or idea or world is carried by the writing for the characters. I have spent a long time honing in on how to write character dramas.

I say that because all of the various plot threads, even the political intrigue ones, are at their core about two or more characters at odds with each other.

Every plot line about the war can be broken down into what Warriors's relationships are with other people, like Spirit, Lincoln, Zelda, Impa, Anders, and more. Typically, each character is a mouthpiece for a specific stance that Warriors opposes. Let them clash, and what is essentially a story about a bunch of people trying to figure out how to fight a war becomes 10 times more intriguing.

I know I wrote a very long post some time about about how I came up with some of the world building stuff concerning the politics, but I can't find it. Here is a quick summary of what I probably said:

Don't be afraid to just use real world politics in your story; my Hyrule is brimming with a lot of the classic Americanisms

Focus on cause and effect; if character X does something, then it should have a ripple effect

Look at other stories about the topic you're writing on; I was pretty familiar with literature and movies about war before writing this story, which certainly helped me in writing about a war

Get everyone's perspectives; I find that a lot of political intrigue focuses on the upper classes, which is why I think the story becomes richer when you look at how all these policies affect the people

For the copious amounts of plot threads... I'm not even sure, pal. All I know is that I established that certain characters are going through stuff and as I write the story, they kind of just do things on their own.

I can talk more about how the present day and the past are worked together:

For purposes of character development and plotting, I considered the past and the present two different stories; thinking them as the same one makes it more complicated than it needs be

I picked a point in both plots where the events had to happen in the same chapter, then paced CTB around it

The past is more thoroughly planned out in the present so that I could reference one in the other without worrying about inconsistencies

Everyone already knows how the past ends, as it ends in the present. That means the two sides of the story will have different types of tension: one where the reader sees the train wreck but can't stop it and one where the reader doesn't know when the crash is happening; understanding they have different types of tension and intrigue and leaning into it will help the plots match up

Everything beyond that I just kinda wing it. Truthfully, I can tell where in the story I shoe'd in a convenient plot point to help move things along. I don't think many people notice where the plot is weak since I try to make everything come off as being on purpose.

So that's my last bit of advice: be confident, especially if this is a genre you're not used to or a project that you think you're not prepared for. Readers can tell when you're scared. I swear that if you just commit and show no fear, your story will appear more put together than it is.