#One Year Apart Zine

[smilesobrien]

FINALLY got around to making an itch.io page...!! allow me to promo Halloween for Mice parts one and two... haha...!!

[loverboybitch]

getting really attached to the idea of living in my little apartment forever actually.//.

[lord-prey]

I like buying charms to put on my keys n backpacks :)

Sometimes I leave extras or ones I don’t wanna take out on my cork board as well. Aka the current Yuuji, Taka n demifiend, they’re not kept that close together btw I did that for the pic 😩

Oldest charms I got are the Jack Ryan and Jazz one, my ex mailed me those back in my jr year of highschool :)

Newest one is the Levi n weeping scope one, got em 3 days ago but my god I scratched em tf up already 😩

N uhhh the Taka, Yuuji n Demifiend came before the Levi :)

[xenonarrow]

At last, my piece for the Moon Knight fanzine Lunar Labyrinth (@moon-knight-zine) from last year! This is the first time I work with a zine project and it was definitely a delight.

I had fun with the symbolism on this piece, more info under the crack:

Prompt/Subject: My place in this zine was part of the artists for the 4th chapters, Waxing Gibbous: Order. The prompt was changed and revised through the process, ultimately revolving around the concept of being reborn, rebuilding, discovering each other's strengths and ultimately the chapter's namesake order. I played with the concept of rebuilding a literal set of mirrors as a visual metaphor.

General setting: I chose to feature the MCU version of the character(s) with some elements from the comics since the time of the planning was very close to its release on D+. The scene is set inside one's house as I often use them with the symbolic value of one's personality and emotional state. I chose Steven's apartment from the MCU for two main reasons: 1) It's shown at the end after the events of the series, implying they still use it as home 2) The layout of the set is well documented and also nice and cosy. I used a combination of pictures from the behind the scenes and artbook + a rough scene I put up in Blender as reference for the subjects' placement, perspective and palette

Character(s) There is only one (physical) character in scene that I called "the body" since it's placed in a way so the face is not visible. This is deliberate so to not give away any clue about which alter is fronting - he can be any of them, all or none at the same time - it's just the body. The physical appearance. The medium with which the psyche interacts with the rest of the physical world. The body's clothes were a tough choice but I ended up with Steven's pyjamas since it was what they wearing at the end of the series. Steven, Marc and Jake are represented in the mirror with their Duat sequence clothes (except for Jake's attire for his only on-screen appearance + comics version fake moustache because honestly he feels naked without them) and in a pose reflecting as much as their individual vibe and role as I could in a single image: Steven and Jake are helping the body putting the mirror pieces back together in two different ways, one in a more concerned / affectionate manner and the other is slightly more blunt and direct. Marc is covering his face, as hiding away is kinda fitting for his character on different occasions (hiding memories in an attempt to protect Steven, Hiding parts of himself and his life to his loved ones, running away from his problems etc). Being dramatic as usual.

Mirrors I love using mirrors as visual metaphors. And I love how they used them in the series. I am very normal about it. In this piece the mirrors function as a reflection of the inner self (or selves, in this case): the same body is reflected in three different mirrors (the alters) which are more or less fractured based on the status of their relationship with a specific alter and themselves: Jake has the most pieces missing, since in the series he's the most elusive one to the point of the others not being aware of his existence up until the end despite still being active in protecting them in times of need. The background of the mirrors reflects the pattern of the (head)space as seen in some parts of the Moon Knight (2016) comics while the colours are chosen and assigned based on the box colours used in Moon Knight (2021). The pattern is not following the perspective of the shards on the floor because it's not a physical space the mirror is reflecting but it's more of a "door" to another dimension, the psychological one. The back of the mirrors has a hieroglyphic inscription vaguely inspired by those seen during the first costume sequence at the end of ep 1 (will be back at this later)

The moon dart (that shiny thing stuck in the rightmost mirror): The moon dart symbolises their connection and service under Khonshu. It was thrown diagonally hitting all three mirrors (and causing the fractures in them) and it got stuck in Jake's, symbolising his status as the one in the system still under the god's leash. The dart has also a side, positive connotation: despite the havoc that being Khonshu's avatar has brought, it also started to bring them together and work as a team.

Hieroglyphs: There is a thematic back-and-forth in this segment of the mirror, as the empty sections symbolises a loss of self in favour of being an Egyptian deity's puppet (hence the hieroglyphic inscriptions, vaguely resembling the pyramid texts where a certain hymn features an earlier and more violent version of the god Khonsu being a slayer for the king), but in the same inscriptions (see the second picture) carry a hopeful message: "There is no son who is strong against his father, but you are strong and mighty while Ma'at (personification of order, balance, harmony) dwells on your arms and your Ba (plural) will last forever, repeating rejuvenation like the Moon". I used "father" referencing the comics where Khonshu leans heavier into posing as a fatherly figure as a manipulation tactic, so the sentence can be interpreted as escaping from Khonshu's leash and finding strength and balance among themselves. It also echoes the usage of the moon dart.

Easter eggs: There are two easter eggs in here. Three Ba birds with the alters' faces can be seen over Steven's mirror, it's a little signature detail since a previous drawing with them apparently became iconic in my corner of MK fandom? They are also mentioned in the hieroglyphic text. There's a tiny Dracula hiding under the carpet layer. We can't see you in the finished piece, but we know you're here you big fucking nerd

WHEW that was a lot. Thank you for reading this far!

Here are some other progress pics if you fancy:

[mephistopheles]

i don’t know much about the fan reception of the TOS movies but i do believe that k/s zines were already circulating by the time TMP came out which means there absolutely were shippers in 1979 and i can’t imagine being in the theatre as star trek puts forth a film that is thematically centred on two lovers, one human and one alien, reuniting aboard the enterprise after years apart, at the climax of which spock clasps kirk’s hand, stares deep into his eyes, and says he finally understands “this simple feeling.” i think i would have died on the spot

[bernardisgross]

Bim bam boum ! Here's the whole comic i drew for Crossroads @zine--garden , a zine focused one showing and sharing love for Hunter x Hunter ^^

I chose to focus on my two favorite teachers !!!

Bonus, making of & talk in the read more⬇

I was very happy to be able to participate and even more happy to finally share a headcanon i've had for years about Bisky and Wing's meeting.

I don't know how clear it is but basically, Wing is a young nen user who happens to have been taken in by a big criminal family. The boss is using his abilities to forge precious gems from cheap materials, passing them as precious gems he bought for his collection. As a renown collector, he also sells the gems and makes tons of money from it. As Wing's skills become sharper though, his forged gems become more and more precious, making it difficult to tell them apart from real ones.

Having sold a good gem in a batch of "bad" ones, the boss is trying to get it back, framing his client as a thief. He calls for Bisky (a "young" hunter with a good resume) planning to trick her into committing insurance fraud in his place. Unfortunately, she's got a better eye than he thought, and asks for the good gem as compensation.

Feeling antsy about his money, the boss accepts, already planning to get rid of her once the job is done.

Bisky can sense the residual nen from Wing the moment she meets him, that's why she demands he comes with her. She wants to make sure at first that this is a normal child in the wrong place rather than the boss's actual associate.

Making him her disciple just came along the way because she honestly didn't know what to do with that kid LOL but didn't want to return him to a bad place. Also, she saw his potential. Here's a rejected final page (rejected bc I couldn't tie the text properly and wasn't very happy with the visual) where it's a bit clearer that she's got back with the good gem and values it a lot BECAUSE it was made by Wing. (also metaphor, analogy blabla)

I love teachers/masters in stories, i love that trope so much!! It's always so interesting to me to have someone older and wiser share their knowledge with the young waiting for nothing in return. Nurturing and loving, becoming a support with the only satisfaction to witness the growth and blossoming of someone else. I think it's so beautiful to help others in this way, to give a little of yourself with kindness.

I think if touches on other tropes i'm sensitive to like found family etc... So of course, i've loved Bisky & Wings for a looong time, and i'm even more obsessed with the fact they're on the same line of teachers 🥺💕

I was always curious about how they could have met and what could have moved Bisky to take him under ... her ..................... wing.....🔥🔥🔥 lol... anyways !!! I went full indulgence and comics are not my thing at all so if you've enjoyed it, i'm very very, very blessed and happy ^^ !!!

I've also included a rejected sketch of the cover with big Bisky :3

and here's a look at all her outfits !! I love Lolita alt fashion soo much, i do tend to latch onto characters who dress like this... and love making my own outfits for them too !!!

I also made a sticker of Palm for the merch bundles !!

Thank you so much if you've picked up Crossroads, it was great from the start !! I'm so lucky and so grateful to @/gachahugs and all the contributors for having me ^^ !! thank you thank you !

[ayaheart77]

Hiya!! Happy 1st In Stars and Time Anniversary everyone!! It's hard to believe it's been a year since I saw this game in the eshop and said "huh, thats a cute art style and some funky music, wonder what's going on here"

This is my piece from the @ourtimeinthestars zine! If you haven't checked it out yet please do!! So many amazing people worked on it and they deserve to see their efforts be seen!

While I'm not as active in the isat community anymore, this game will always hold a special place in my heart, mainly cause I got to infect my friends with it and watch them get silly with it (love you guys <3)

I guess all thats left to say is thank you insertdisc5 for the amazing game! thank you mods and zine team for hosting and putting together the project! thank you isat community for being one of the best comunities i've been apart of! and thank you to my friends who encouraged me to join the zine in the first place! I don't think i'd be here on tumblr right now if it wasn't for this project, so thank you! thank you everyone!!

(ID in Alt text)

[solarpunksoup]

PART 2: THE STEW

(aka a resource masterlist/archive from an amateur librarian)

LAST UPDATED NOVEMBER 11, 2024

PART 1: THE SOUP (disc. February 28, 2023)

disclaimer: most of these will pull up my reblog, not the original link. this is in no way me trying to take credit, but it was just easier and more efficient to get the links this way, and makes the resource still partially accessible if a blog is deactivated.

just like part one!: if you see your post on here and would like it removed or credited in a certain way, send me a message. i’m more than happy to do that!

this will be continuously updated. click the original post to check if the date has changed.

you can also search “updated version” in my blog to pull up the most recent edit

not all of these are direct guides! a lot of this is inspiration for your own personal praxis

The Featured

some things that are particularly relevant right now or what I find most interesting

Self Managed Abortion

Managing War Anxiety

Testosterone is for Girls, Too! (zine for purchase)

Solarpunk in Different Parts of the World

Gardening + Gardening DIYs

Sharing the Fruits of Your Labor

Healthy Soil

Ani's Tomato and Pepper Harvest

Moostie's Guide to Carrot Tops

DIY [Non-Fibre]

Filtering Rainwater

Tech

Pirating Resources

uBlock Origin's Official Guide to Bypassing Youtube Anti-AdBlock

[Google] Drives

Cooking/Foraging

Scrap Soup

Random Tips for an Amateur Cook

Mending + Fibre Arts

Solar Dyeing

Making Yarn from Scratch

Inspo for Mending a Belt

Inspo for Decorating a Jacket

On Acrylic Yarn

Thought, Theory + Idea Lists

Ways to Live in Direct Opposition to Capitalism

Rural Solarpunk

Activism in the Winter Months

Social Workers, Not Cops

Importance of Trades

Solarpunk in Different Parts of the World

Boomer Positivity

Stories of Transfem Acceptance

Staying Critical of "Self-Sufficiency"

Shopping

Native Seeds Search

Volunteerism, Protesting + Community Activism

Community Fridges/Freedges

Free Little Library for MOVIES!

Nzambi Matee Recycles Plastic to Make Bricks that are Stronger than Concrete

Workplace Advocacy

A Legit Way to Fight the Climate Crisis from Where You're Sitting Right Now

Village Tackles Speeding by Planting Thousands of Flowers Because Drivers Slow Down as They Pass By

Emotional + Physical Health

First Aid for Seizures

Masterlists, Compilations

History of Specific Depopulated Palestinian Areas

UK-Specific Solarpunk Resources

Zines

Testosterone is for Girls, Too!

T-Girl Self Defense

The Shirt, (or How to Explain Revolution to an 8-year old)

a word on the soup and the stew:

hello world!

if you've made it all the way down here, hello! hi:3

welcome to a project I've been working on for many years. 3, to be exact! which may not seem that long to you, but for me, the soup started as a way for me to collect resources as an isolated, abused teenager and give me a source of hope. I think it gave me something to hoard, to call my own, even though it never really was. it was and always has been just my organization of a community's brilliance. and along the way, people seemed to like it. with this outpouring love and a community I could finally call myself apart of, I learned to let go of false ownership and instead grow a true love for archiving, for sharing.

now, I am a free, happy adult, and that time seems like forever ago. yet I continue collecting these resources and sharing our community's brilliance as an ode to that younger self, and because I still believe in the solarpunk community and it's message:

hope! keep hoping! endure! keep enduring! above all else, we must survive, we must dream, and we must LOVE!

I hope you reflect upon these with the same gentle, hopeful heart I always have. Praise the authors, love them, love yourself, and let our hope inspire you to create and act and be.

All of my love!

The Keeper

[astronicht]

So this is an AU pwp snippet that I originally wrote for the motorsports zine exchange, and truly it's an AU of the princeps vale AU, but instead of making valentino a grown-up and slightly maladjusted previous boy emperor of Rome, everyone is a Roman charioteer. practically motorcycles. anyway--I think it stands alone, and I wanted to also have it on here!

Marc makes his way to the circus following the smell of horse piss; it wafts on the wind. It is one of those glorious hot afternoons in early September, and Marc is racing for the Ludi Romani tomorrow. The holiday itself is arriving three days later than it's supposed to, because the annual schedule has been thrown off since the end of Februarius. This was one of the years where they had to insert the extra month into late winter to make the calendars work, which would normally be fine: since then the holidays have fallen in place with some difficulty on someone else's part, but it was doable. Then a victorious general and his army came back from Anatolia and Marc had to sail to Rome to race at the victory procession in the middle of Iunius, and now even the edited schedule is off. Marc knows he's racing tomorrow because his brother was gearing up in the morning,  and because walking around Tarraco he can smell the horses already grouped in the circus, sweating, waiting.

Marc walks in a wide circle around the outside of the circus, which is surrounded by the detritus of all the market stalls and the annoyed prostitutes who have been unceremoniously removed to make room for the horses, and the race tomorrow. Marc's team is in there somewhere.

The next morning it is either day three or day one of Ludi Romani, depending on your calendar, and Marc wakes early, in the dark. It's too hot to sleep well; everyone forgets that September never gave back summer's teeth.

A holiday is holy first, so Marc goes to the river and then the usual two temples. People yell insults or support when they see him pass by on the street, even though the sky is barely more than gray, and he is nothing but a reddish-gray figure in the gloom. It’s hot enough that people are sleeping outside their houses on mats, on their roofs, perhaps not sleeping at all. 

Marc is recognizable: he has to wear red togas and belts when he goes out in order to match the team colors. The yellows and greens are more popular in most places, but not in Tarraco. 

In the baths, after the temples, they scrape him down. His face is shaved, and Marc tilts his head for the razor. The Pleiades rose last night, harbingers of the harvest, and unlike so many young men Marc does not have to go home for the reaping. He does not pick olives in winter. He does not wheeze for breath in the copper mines of Flavium Muniguense, in the south of his province.

In fact, Marc had bought out his contract years ago, back before his brother had won anything yet and before Valentino had retired: bought it out himself with his winnings, and then nearly died a free man and mostly a citizen of Rome with his team’s reins around his ribs and crushing his lungs.

To be pulled apart by horses is a terrible execution. To have the horses that do, in fact, love you, dance away from your body that has been thrown from the chariot, trying not to crush you, is another thing. They are well-trained but they are horses so they are foaming and terrified, and the reins are around your ribs— well, it wasn't a successful execution, but not for lack of hapless trying, between Marc and the horses both.

That’s all healed up now, and what isn’t healed up is fine. That his eyes still bother him is the bigger problem, maybe. The arm is a non-issue; no one good at this job would hold the reins in their hands. It’s about the strength of your legs, your ass, your trunk. You move side to side with your body. A charioteer's arms are for the whip, for bracing, and for grabbing the little curved knife that they all keep in their belts, to cut themselves clear of the reins if they're thrown. Marc had gotten to his eventually.

He leaves the baths as the sun is rising. He passes the Temple of Augustus, and then the Temple of Saturn. No one is around, so Marc stops to piss against the building next to the Temple of Saturn.

There, as the first truly bright sunlight of the morning streaks across the dust at his feet and Marc idly takes his hand off his dick and drops the skirt of his toga back down, a voice cuts through the hot morning, and the quiet susurration of the priests chanting inside the closed temple, singing to their god.

“I’m not holding your horse forever, Marco,” the man across the street says, an easy lilt, relaxed. Not an accent from the City, but much closer than Marc’s is.

Marc straightens the drape of his toga, heart pounding. He can smell where he just pissed in the dust. He can smell incense and the baking mud down by the river. Gulls call, but none are floating in the hot air. His belt feels suddenly tight, the rings on his fingers too.

That is Valentino. The shape of that man across the street, slender but slouched and just slightly bow-legged, godlike anyway, is Valentino. Valentino is in town.

Valentino is in Tarraco, not far from the dusty little village where Marc was born.

It was always possible, on a race day in a capital, that Vale might show up, even in the Provinces. But most of each year he is busy training boys up for a debut in Rome at the Circus Maximus.

Marc doesn’t move. Valentino is standing facing Marc and the temple, ostensibly watching the little line of worshipers coming by to leave their offerings at the steps for Ludi Romani. He looks bright, curious, when he is watching the worshipers. Blank and heavy-lidded when he looks back at Marc. Valentino is holding the reins of a lovely gelding, Marc realizes. Marc’s heartbeat is thudding in his throat, in the bad arm, in his ribs.

Another voice. Marc hadn’t even noticed the young man, curly-haired and young, standing with Valentino and the gelding. The young man with Valentino is angry about something: a slight against Valentino, it seems like. He is talking low and fast, and Marc can’t quite make it out.

“Well, he called me a cunnilingator,” Vale says, louder. His voice is amused.

Their eyes meet. Just across the street, Vale looks away and smiles slightly at his companion, or maybe at the horse. His face is wry, creased. He's not old yet, Marc tells himself. The young man he’s with is sunburnt, curly-haired. His neck goes red when Vale speaks. “Now I cannot greet him with a kiss on the cheek, you see,” Vale continues. He is looking at Marc, not the young man, who has not noticed this.

The young man says something, shoulders tense, like he will reach for a weapon.

“No, no,” says Vale. “It is funny, Bezz.”

Marc’s heart is pounding in his gut, his throat. He is not afraid, of course. Perhaps angry? Not even that. It's just that it should be more of a shock than it is, he tells himself. Valentino should be in Rome. Marc saw him from a distance, earlier this year when he raced for the victory parade in the City. That was when Marc was thrown from the chariot and dragged by his good horses, who didn’t mean to do it, but certainly did. It hadn’t been Marc’s first big injury, but the scars on his arm are still a little swollen. He is wearing his curved charioteer’s knife in his belt the opposite direction than normal, so the left hand can grab it.

Vale is sending off the boy — who is in the uniform of the greens, Marc realizes. He must also be racing today, against Marc. Vale is drawing a hand down the flank of the gelding and sending it off too, ambling along after the angry young man, whose hand is nevertheless surprisingly soft on the lead rope. Marc stands there, dressed in red, sweating. Vale is starting to look angry, like he does for Marc now: a cold kind of thing, nothing like the way he laughed off an insult from some unknown man just a moment ago.

Marc is racing today, but not for hours. He is feeling something happening in him, full-body, that is very familiar. His palms are tingling. He feels like he slept outside like all the men and women of Terraco seem to have done, and that he has woken in the heat of the morning to find Valentino here. What year is it? Of whose reign?

They are in Tarraco, Marc reminds himself. They are in Tarraco, and everyone speaks like Marc does. Vale's eyes are hot.

*

Vale has him in the amphora storage room of the inn where Vale is staying. It is maybe twenty steps from where they saw each other and inside it is already stuffy and hot. It barely matters; Marc always sweats so much when he fucks Valentino that the heat is almost a good excuse. Valentino seems to think it is normal, or else he just likes it. His hands slip on Marc’s hips. Marc is clutching a shelf and hissing through his clenched jaw. Light from high open windows slants across his body, his arms, the back of his neck. It flashes across Vale, too, his sinewy arms with a fine fuzz of hair. It ties them together.

“‘Cunnilingator,’” Vale murmurs again, and lets out a sharp sour laugh. Vale's face is wet with his own saliva. He has been licking at Marc’s ass until Marc had to hold the shelf, until Marc had to come, and then past that. He doesn’t seem to want to stop. This is dirtier, probably, than if Marc had a pussy. Valentino doesn’t seem to want to stop. 

The boy from the street had looked the smallest bit like Valentino, but Marc had written this off. He has fucked people who look like Valentino before, and it’s never worth it. The resemblance, he realizes, was truly there this time, but only in the angry mouth and the strong and careful hands.

The angry mouth is wet and red now. Ah, well, Marc’s face is wet too.

Valentino, behind him, says something filthy, and then says, “Let me, let me.” Marc will let him. He doesn’t seem to know this, or isn’t willing to do it without the begging. “Marc,” Valentino says. He spits on Marc’s ass. Marc shakes.

“You know what I want,” Marc says.

Valentino hisses and squeezes Marc’s hips. “Oh, do I?” he says.

"Like always," Marc says, some part of him giving in a little.

"Yes, yes," says Valentino, eyes dark and intent. "I will take care of it."

Marc cranes his head to see Valentino raise the skirt of his own toga and stroke his cock once. He is shaking with wanting Marc, or maybe the strain of the awkward small space.

Marc lets his mouth fall open. Valentino blinks at him and then falls on him, and Marc’s pushed upright and naked against the wall. Valentino’s wet mouth is on his neck. Valentino’s hand is between Marc’s face and the wall. One finger from that hand is easy to suck into Marc’s mouth.

Valentino grunts but waits for some signal known only to him, just says, “Marc—Marc,” in the shining gleam of a single band on sunlight making its way through the wooden slats of the wall and across his face. Marc has to wriggle backwards against him once, twice, before Valentino stops pinning him back into stillness and grips his own cock and rubs it in the spit, then eases in the tip. Marc bites down on Valentino’s finger. The sound he makes is— he doesn’t know. It might be bad if there were anywhere deeper to go, but there isn’t. Valentino doesn’t try to stop him. He maybe tries to shove his finger deeper instead. 

Valentino is in him. Valentino’s gentle hand on his ribs becomes for a moment a claw. His grip gentles again but Marc wants the grip back. He doesn’t gentle his jaw on Valentino’s finger. Valentino will wear Marc's teeth like a ring all day. The base of his finger might bruise and swell. He tips his head back, neck limp. Saliva is on his chin now, too.

Vale's face is tacky when he pulls it away from Marc's neck for a moment to look down. He sticks for a moment. Ah, cunnilingator.

"Ah, look at you," he says, looking down at Marc's nude body. The red toga is in a heap on a shelf. Its belt is tangled around Valentino's ankles. Vale is nearly dressed.

Fingertips of the hand that Marc is not biting touch his spine, and then move right to touch the spine of the long scar on his arm instead. Marc stills, and the touch moves on.

How long is the voyage from Rome to Tarraco? His arm is nearly healed, but Vale did not look surprised at the scar when Marc undressed among the amphorae of wine. Just touched it like he did just now, soft as the streaks of sun had touched it. Which was too soft; the nerves are damaged, and it feels like nothing or like a burning itch to be touched softly.

But he had moved on, stripped Marc of his belt in one fast move that made Marc nearly laugh because it did, in fact, remind him of reins around his chest. And then Vale had touched his temples, just lightly, as Marc shed the rest of his clothes.

But now he is panting and fucking into Marc incrementally, rough and shallow, thrust by thrust. Marc's jaw keeps nearly loosening around the finger held in his mouth, and then he regains control and bites down again. Bruises like a ring of purple. Vale never tries to take it back, even when Marc is open-mouthed and panting for breath, still not able, quite, to tip over.

Finally Valentino's left hand pinches Marc, savagely, on the thin layer of fat over the ribs. Marco is so slick with sweat this must be difficult, but Valentino manages it on the second try. And so Marc's body tightens under him, comes for him again, and this time it feels terribly real. There is just enough of Valentino inside him for Marc to avoid being destroyed by it. Maybe.

Valentino pants savagely in Marc’s ear, like the roar in a seashell when no one is there. There is something desperate in it. Ah--Valentino is going to come too.

It takes another minute, and Vale pulls out to stroke himself, but then-- there. When it hits Marc's ass his whole spine relaxes, his whole body relaxes. He sags against Valentino, whose nice toga is now stained with Marc's sweat.

Vale pulls his hand out of Marc's mouth and shows it to Marc. "Ah, look at you," he says. He is still out of breath, though Marc is catching his. Marc blinks blearily at Vale's hand. He drew a tiny bit of blood. Vale turns his hand up and down, showmanlike. The bitten finger is already starting to swell; Vale smiles at this. And yes, at the base of it is a ring of purple set with the pale indents of Marc's front teeth.

[mlbigbang]

2023 Marichat & Ladrien Fic Rec List

It’s the end of the year which means it’s finally time for the ML Big Bang’s yearly fic rec lists! We’re really excited to bring you our contributors’ favourite fics started this year to supply you with plenty of reading material while you’re waiting for the Big Bang fics’ publication in January.

Boulangérella by @aidanchaser

Once upon a time, magic was wild. The two princes of the kingdom have been tasked with choosing their brides by the end of their 21st birthday celebrations. Crown Prince Adrien Agreste will have to choose between a woman who can protect his kingdom, a woman offering the power to wake his sleeping mother, and the woman he has loved and admired for the past year. Then there's also the seamstress that he is suddenly falling for. By the time he realizes he doesn't have the power to choose at all, it may be too late.

It's a creative Cendrillon retelling with the kwamis as fay, Adrien as the kingdom's prince and most wanted thief, and Marinette as the seamstess and superhero partner stealing Adrien's heart twice over.

Scary, like a little black purring kitten by @h-sunnywet-d

The calendar just turned into October, and Chat Noir has to make sure that his Good Friend Marinette appreciates the new season wholeheartadly. It sure won't backfire on the long run.

Just An Ordinary Girl by @kasienda

Chat Noir and the other heroes are in a bit of trouble, and Ladybug wanted just one weekend off! But luckily they know someone who can help. Someone who is just an ordinary girl…

you will never sleep alone (i'll love you) by @ladyofthenoodle

Marinette had saved up for months to be able to afford this vacation. Not only that, but she’d spent months trying to convince herself that it was okay to even take a vacation, that Monarch was really and truly gone. Which was why Tikki was at home with Alya, so that Marinette could actually relax and enjoy the plush amenities the hotel had to offer, such as a bed that looked like it cost five times her monthly salary. Or, she would be able to enjoy it, if she wasn’t standing in the middle of the villa she’d booked over a month ago, fighting for the bed with freaking Chat Noir, of all people.

May I introduce myself, Your Highness? by @chocoluckchipz

Whether picking up a stray animal off the streets or saving a dying child at the market, Adrien had always strived to be the best version of himself. Truly, he would've been the perfect candidate to be snatched up by a kwami, were he an orphan, dying somewhere remote after a short life full of nothing but suffering and misery. Yet as it stood, the sole heir to the French throne had little to complain about. Apart from, perhaps, a complete absence of a love life. That is until a mysterious girl, wandering around his gardens at night, catches his attention.

This fic has it all - Ladrien, royalty, fairy tale elements, magic and disguises! It's an enthralling read and one of my absolute favorite fics from 2023.

The Perfect Date by @peachcitt

“I dare you to ask this special someone on the date you just described.” “I totally will,” Adrien says with confidence, looking into the camera and nodding resolutely. “Scout’s honor.” He holds up the kitten as if swearing an oath. There is a space of silence. “Right now,” Hanna says. Adrien stares at her. “I’m daring you to ask that person out right now,” she says. or adrien has a little slip up during a live interview, and ladybug hears. for the golden hour zine!!

reserved by @luckyyoyo

“Don’t you think,” he coughed, a blush creeping up his cheeks, “this kind of thing should be.. reserved for my girlfriend?” He gestured to their poses. A squeak came from her mouth and her knees buckled, but surprisingly still had no struggle keeping Adrien up. “You know, you could always be my girlfriend.” Ladybug, saviour of Paris and local damsel-in-distress Adrien Agreste, suggests he gets a fake girlfriend to ward off his zombie fans. While lovingly holding him in her arms, of course. Adrien, far too comfortable in her arms, suggests it could be her. Introducing your superheroine pretend-girlfriend to your strict, uninterested father is a bit harder than Adrien realises.

Displaced by @kasienda

Adrien loosened his tie and dropped his suit jacket unceremoniously across the back of the sofa that was already cluttered with unopened boxes, mail, and unfolded laundry. He really should have listened to Nino and hired a maid or cleaning person of some sort. But well, he still had a secret to keep, and keeping that secret was more important to him than ever. He moved to his bedroom on autopilot without turning on the light, intending to collapse into bed immediately. But when he tried to slip into his space, he found it was already occupied. He flipped his phone flashlight on towards the ceiling to light the room in a soft glow. In his wife’s place, Ladybug lay sprawled diagonally across the bed.

here comes the rush before we touch (come a little closer) by @ladyofthenoodle

When an akuma attacks during Adrien Agreste's beach themed photoshoot on a dreary day in Paris, Ladybug is on the scene immediately. Unfortunately, with a glimpse of Adrien's alluring abdomen and without her partner, it's not long before she's hit, and Adrien with her—but maybe Ladybug can afford a little vacation with the boy she loves. He's certainly not complaining.

On Borrowed Time by @miabrown007

The life of Paris’ Golden Boy is all shine and glamour; blindingly bright smiles, neverending parties, bargaining for just a shard of time for being happy. But that’s alright; Adrien has long given up the false hope that someone will get it. That is precisely why it’s a spectacle when she does, when she barges in like a hurricane in crimson and turns his life upside down. Heaven knows, it’s time for the wind of change.

[sukinapan]

honestly would be pretty interested in hearing about all of them, if thats alright

it's no problem o( ❛ᴗ❛ )o i like talking about this

for context, apart from making personal art i'm also an artist and character designer at Smarto Club, so I don't know if these count as OCs but i have posted art of them here: Haco from >Bubblegum Galaxy and Teacup from >Teacup.

you can check the steam pages on those games for more info if u like. i love all my characters but i don't usually make personal art of these two since i already do it as my job.

my newest Smarto Club character is a bit different since she's more in the style of what i'm doing personally so i want to make more art of her soon. her name is Abigail:

she's a kid who likes reading about bugs and catching them but she never hurts them : ) this is a short game in early development but it's about catching creatures called angels. it's got horrorish vibes but i don't think the end result will be full-out horror, since it's also kinda silly...

then there's Peklo, it's a game for which i created the whole concept and story but the plan is to develop it as a studio at Smarto Club. i wrote more context for it on this post, but for the characters, they're my favorites to make art about at the moment. the main ones are Kiku (the cat) and Mi (the bunny):

i recently created these human forms of them for fun but i'm not sure whether i'll establish them as canon or not... they're trapped in limbo/hell so there's space for them to have a past human form. they don't remember their lives but Kiku feels a deep sense of regret about things unkown to her and wants to break out of Peklo. Mi feels trapped in an eternal sadness, she longs to see the ocean, she can always hear it but has never been able to reach it.

the antagonist in Peklo is a frog entity called Guppy but i haven't really shown him outside of his froggy logo

i also have OCs from my smaller games. there's Hlina that i created specifically for >this game that was commissioned to me for a zine. i don't have any plans to use her again for now but i might make more art of her in the future for fun. she's part of a strange dream realm and is hostile to the player:

there's iro from the >game with the same name who's my oldest game OC. i created that bitsy game for her story but she existed previously in my art degree final project, it was a version of the same story but just a section of it. it's a dream of mine to create a full-fledged 3D game for her some day.

she's a bit of a defective space exploration robot, sent to explore planetoid Iridium-3 in search of human contact. it's set in a future where humanity has dispersed among the whole galaxy so lots of groups have lost contact with each other.

my latest game OC is Michtat, a wizard cat that i created just for this silly zine.

lasty, there’s the characters from my comic that I’m working on, called The most distant planet. the main characters are Victor and Mitya, two 9 year olds whose families end up living together.

i'd say these are the dearest characters to me of all. i don't post as much of them because they're mostly in the shape of comic pages and it doesn't spark as much interest as my games. i love drawing them though.

they’re both little weirdos who isolate themselves and don’t fit in much with other children, so the friendship they develop is very special to them. they have almost opposite personalities where Victor (darker hair) is very shy and dorky but also very sweet to everyone, while Mitya mostly gives 0 fucks about what anyone thinks or says, he blurts out whatever he’s thinking and just wants to run around wild.

the story is mostly slice of life-ish but there’s also a science fiction element ^-^ Victor is obsessed with things like ghosts, aliens, etc but Mitya thinks it’s all just dumb tales.

another important character is Alyosha, Mitya’s 17-18yo brother. he doesn’t know how to talk or relate to his little brother and is kinda weirded out by him. they where very close when they were younger, but when Mitya was 2 he had an accident that Alyosha feels guilty about, and has been somehow different ever since.

he still worries about his little brother and how isolated he is, though. at the beginning of the story the two of them live alone with their grandma who does love them but has kind of a cold and distant personality. 

Alyosha was the type of kid to be considered “gifted” but now feels completely burnt out and had to repeat a grade at school. he felt so humiliated by this he eventually stopped going entirely, so he now works part time and just studies at home. he cut contact with his old classmates but he still has 2 best friends from the last few months he spent at school in the grade below, Manon and Min Na. they’re the kind of friends who just show up unannounced at his house and job, and are very involved with his family’s life.

i’ve also included Min Jie in some art, she’s Min Na’s younger cousin and comes into the story later:

i should have like character sheets and stuff for all of these OCs but i’m the kind to just jump head first into drawing/modeling lol, that's why i included all these finished illustrations.

i really wanna publish this comic, i’ve been working on it for a long time and i’m currently waiting for the results of a public funding application here in my country to decide what i'll do next.

hope this could be of interest (^人^) thanks for the ask!

[dcafanzine]

Hi everyone! We’re super excited to start introducing our contributors! Let’s let them introduce themselves!

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Hello, everyone! I’m Agent Darkfest and I am one of the contributors for Bonus Zine as a Page Artist! I am super excited to be a part of this incredible project, it’s my first time so I feel really honored to work with so many amazing people! I first got into FNAF by reading up on the lore. But when Security Breach came out, I became obsessed, especially with the glamrocks and the design of the pizzaplex. But when I came across the DCA, I just couldn’t get them out of my head. I always enjoyed the concept and design of animatronics and automatons, add the jester aesthetic to the mix, and that became a formula for inspiration! In addition, the community itself is so welcoming and creative, that even after a year, I’m still getting inspired! I truly look forward to the completion of the fanzine, especially with the talent and love that is going into making it!

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Hey, I'm Bean I'm a page artist for the bonus zine. I've previously worked on another DCA zine, I just love these funky robot jesters and all aus and iterations. Fell in love with the DCA because of their silly vibes and jestery demeanor. Plus, everyone's lovely art and ideas really brought them to life. I'm a fan of fnaf and was waiting for security breach to come out. <3

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Hello hello! I am Ohno (like oh no— help! Nooo!) and I am a page artist for the main and bonus zine! I’ve never participated in a zine before but I’m super excited to be apart of this one! The DCA is the perfect encapsulation of everything I love about fiction and fandom so they have been bouncing around in my brain for over 2 years now.

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[riotwritesthings]

Unrequited Dreams

WinterIron, M, 3.5k - Soulmate AU, Angst, hopeful ending

I can finally share my piece from the Reforged WinterIron Zine! I'm so excited, I'd had the idea for this fic for years and it was delightful to finally bring it to life. And now I get to share!

Thank you to all the mods over at @reforgedzine for making this happen!

~~~

The night before his thirteenth birthday Bucky is so excited he can barely fall asleep, because he’s going to have his first dream about his soulmate.

The anticipation has been building for weeks, for years; his family has taken to fondly rolling their eyes because Bucky can't talk about anything else. He can’t wait to find out something, anything about his soulmate, about how they'll meet for the first time. He can't wait to start trying to make sense of the hazy details the dream will leave him with.

In the morning, Bucky wakes up sobbing, because now he knows that his soulmate is gorgeous and graceful. That knowledge is crystal clear even if few other details are.

And now, Bucky knows that he's going to put a gun in his soulmate's face and pull the trigger.

~

Thirteen year old Tony wakes up feeling cold and hollow except for a sharp ache settling deep in his chest.

Apparently, it was stupid to be excited, just like Howard always said. Because now he knows that their first meeting involves his soulmate pushing him away.

Literally.

Tony knows that dreams are funny things. He read all about soulmate dreams and how easy it is to misinterpret them, how they tend to exaggerate, back when he was dumb enough to look forward to them. But he would swear that the shove felt hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, felt strong enough to throw him clear across the room.

The ache in his chest lingers the entire day, and every morning that he wakes up from the same dream, the pain is agonizingly fresh, digging a little deeper.

So Tony grows up and learns how to push people away first. He tells himself that when he meets his soulmate, he’ll be ready.

~

Bucky never tells anyone about the dream, even when his parents give him concerned looks. Eventually people stop asking.

Every time he has the dream, Bucky remembers a little more. His soulmate is dressed in mostly black, moving gracefully and carelessly through a room in chaos. His soulmate has gorgeous eyes and a wicked, beautiful smirk.

Every time, Bucky shoots his soulmate in the face and wakes up nauseous.

At least when he joins the army, no one else talks about their dreams either. Most nights, Bucky is too exhausted to dream at all, and it’s almost a relief when nightmares start to overtake the few times that he does.

~

Most nights, Tony drinks until he falls into a short, restless sleep, just to avoid the one dream he doesn't want to have.

He doesn’t want to see his soulmate’s cold, emotionless eyes. He doesn’t want the all-too-brief feeling of his soulmate's hand beneath his own before he's shoved away.

When Tony does dream, it’s of clenched fists, feeling frustrated, helpless. Feeling like his entire life is falling apart around him, and it’s all so stupid.

So he refuses to figure out any other details because he’s already going to have to live through it at some point. He doesn't want to know if that fleeting contact of hand against hand is a first meeting, doesn’t bother trying to remember anything about the large, bright room the dream takes place in or the people around them. He doesn’t care if it's a charity gala or something else. None of it matters.

Tony wakes up and drinks more.

He builds and smiles for the press. He does his best to not lose the few people he has, and tells himself that he won’t care when his soulmate doesn’t want him.

Sometimes he even believes it.

~

The Winter Soldier doesn’t dream at all.

Not during the short, fitful sleep he gets on missions. Certainly not while he’s frozen.

He forgets.

~

When the moment finally happens in real life, they don’t recognize it.

Bucky isn't in his right mind. He’s barely clinging to awareness past the hold of the conditioning in a room in chaos. He doesn't recognize the graceful motions of the gorgeous man who jumps into the fight, or the moment he points his gun in the man's face.

The bullet doesn't connect, and when Tony doesn't die, the Winter Soldier rips his hand away from Tony’s, shoves him across the room and knocks the air out of his lungs.

Tony isn’t thinking about the brief contact of his hand on Barnes’ over the barrel of a gun, of Barnes’ hand splayed across his chest. He’s thinking about the fact that his life is falling apart, and that he needs to stop a rampaging Winter Soldier. He doesn’t have time to think about the splinter itching at the back of his mind.

They don’t even notice when they stop having the dreams, after that moment.

~

Tony is alone in his workshop, in the too-empty compound, when it hits him that he doesn’t even remember the last time he dreamt of his soulmate.

It’s not just because he barely sleeps, not just because when he does dream it’s of his friends falling from the sky, of cities and worlds crashing to the ground. He’s spent so much time trying to ignore the dream, apparently he’s even been ignoring the fact that it’s gone.

It’s a stupid thing to be upset about.

Tony has always known how they would feel about him, known they wouldn’t want anything to do with him, but he still has to sit on the cold tile floor as his legs give out. He blinks back tears, wondering how far he must have fallen, if he doesn’t even deserve a soulmate who pushes him away anymore, doesn’t deserve anyone.

He wonders if his soulmate dreams about someone else now.

~

Bucky is in Wakanda, trying to find peace, when a doctor asks about the dream.

For a second Bucky doesn’t remember. And then he does. And he can’t breathe.

He doesn’t dream much anymore. When he does, it’s always nightmares. He hasn’t dreamt of his soulmate since before the war.

Before the Soldier.

And Bucky realizes he’s probably already killed his soulmate, and doesn’t even remember it. Everything goes fuzzy.

No one asks about the dreams again. Bucky has so many regrets to move past, he just shoves this one down with all the others. His soulmate is probably long gone. There’s no need to think about it.

So, he tries not to.

~

Having everyone back at the compound is exactly as awkward-as-hell as Tony thought it would be. It only makes him feel a little better that he’s clearly not the only one feeling it.

The reasoning is sound, the threat is coming, but that doesn’t mean Tony has to be happy about it.

But he smiles, shakes hands when he has to, and reminds himself this is for the best. He can bury his hurt feelings for the good of the world. He can be an adult, pretend everything is fine. He shows everyone to the residential wing, despite most of them already knowing their way around, and doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he says to make themselves at home.

Slowly, they start putting the team back together. There’s lots of talks about trust and honesty that feel hollow and stilted, but Tony supposes it’s progress.

They still work well together in the field, but that was never the Avengers’ problem.

Around the compound, though, the split remains obvious. Everyone seems torn between walking on eggshells and the urge to act like nothing’s changed even though it has, Tony among them.

The different sides of the war still give each other wide berths in the hallways, and Steve still stands protectively between Tony and his shadow of a best friend when they happen to run into each other in the gym.

Tony spins on his heel with a lazy wave, doesn’t even care if he’s too obvious. For just a moment, Tony’s gaze meets Barnes’ as he turns.

For just that moment, Tony finds himself caught in that deep blue stare before the doors slide closed behind him.

~

Bucky spends a lot of time wandering the compound.

He’s aware everyone thinks it’s a paranoid-perimeter-check thing, which it partially is. But it's also just him enjoying the novelty that he can spend his time wandering aimlessly. He can go where he wants when he wants, never has to sleep unless he chooses to.

He’s still getting used to it; remembering how to enjoy the freedom.

Which is how he runs into Stark in the kitchen at three AM, when he’s trying to outrun his nightmares. Tony is apparently making pancakes.

Bucky freezes in the doorway as they stare at each other. Just when he’s preparing to back away, Stark’s lips curl into a tiny smile. Stark tips his head towards the rest of the kitchen, obviously inviting him to stay instead. Bucky grabs an apple and sits at his usual spot at the far end of the table, trying to look comfortable, and it’s somehow easier than he’s expecting.

It’s only a couple minutes before Stark finishes making and neatly stacking his pancakes on a plate. Then he dumps everything in the dishwasher and shoots Bucky only the briefest look before leaving with his plate of food.

Bucky tells himself to avoid the kitchen around that time. He should give Stark some space, because he’s so clearly uncomfortable with everyone being back.

But two sleepless nights later, Bucky’s feet carry him on a familiar path without thought.

Stark is making waffles this time. He barely even looks up as Bucky takes up the same space at the table. Stark glances at him again as he’s preparing to leave, at the power bar Bucky’s been picking at, then transfers one waffle to a smaller plate. He sets the small plate on the table, just within Bucky’s reach. Then to Bucky’s surprise, Stark sits at the counter instead of leaving.

Bucky pulls the plate closer, and they eat in total silence. They’re not even facing each other and Bucky is actually a little relieved. He doesn’t know what to say to anyone these days, much less Stark.

It’s the first time they’ve done more than pass in the hallways, but it’s not as uncomfortable as it should be. When Tony stands to leave with a wave and a small, warm smile, Bucky finds himself disappointed.

~

As the weeks go by, Tony notices Barnes getting more comfortable around the compound, sometimes with Steve but most often alone.

Not that Tony lets himself wonder why he cares, why he scrolls through security feeds of the hallways like he needs to check on Barnes. It’s just morale has been slowly improving, and that’s the last bridge Tony has to mend. Or, the last bridge to build from scratch over a giant chasm, in this case.

He’s coming back late from a charity event, a little tipsy with plans to head to the lab, but gets sidetracked when he passes through the living room and realizes Barnes is on the couch watching Star Trek. Tony pauses for a second, filled with nostalgia, but he tells himself to leave Barnes to his marathon in peace.

To his surprise, Barnes looks at him with a tiny smile, unsure but devoid of suspicion or impatience. Tony sinks into an armchair, asking himself why. They proceed to watch four and a half episodes in silence.

Tony wakes up to Steve and Sam clomping through after their morning run, slumped down in the chair with a blanket carefully draped over him.

It becomes a habit, and Barnes becomes Bucky, even if they haven’t actually spoken yet.

So maybe Tony has FRIDAY alert him when Bucky is queuing up the next episode so he can head to the living room. After the first time, though, Bucky waits for him to arrive before hitting play and greets him with a smile that gets brighter every time.

Tony doesn’t let himself wonder about the why’s. Like why he spends so much time simply existing in the same room as Bucky, why that doesn’t feel awkward at all. Or why it seems to be the only thing that helps Tony ignore the empty pit in his chest.

One night, Tony realizes he hasn’t seen Bucky in a while. There’s been no marathon nights despite being due to start Next Generation. He tells himself it’s not creepy to flip through security feeds., He’s just curious how Bucky is spending his sleepless nights now.

Tony’s heart leaps into his throat when he finally locates Bucky on the roof of the hanger, standing on the ledge. He’s breathless by the time he makes it to the hangar, heart racing and legs shaking from the sprint. He doesn’t even know what he thinks is happening, except…

Bucky looks at him with wide, exhausted eyes when Tony bursts through the door, and he could swear Bucky’s shoulders drop in relief. Tony doesn’t have time to think. He just starts talking, because Bucky looks so haunted, and Tony knows a thing or two about distractions.

They’re still on the roof when the sun comes up., And Bucky has to stop pointing out all the constellations he can remember while Tony fills him in on the new star science he’s missed.

~

After the roof, something shifts.

Bucky can’t put his finger on exactly what it is, or even when it happens. But that one stilted conversation about the stars becomes less stilted conversations about whatever’s on TV becomes friendly debates about the merits of different toppings as they make pizza at midnight.

Before Bucky knows it, he feels like he’s home.

He finds a groove with his new life and starts branching out, starts connecting with the rest of the team. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be a person. To actually interact when he passes people in the hallway and eat with a group.

To be more than a ghost, to be part of something good.

Always though, he gravitates back to Tony. Because Tony actually makes him laugh and it fills a void in his chest Bucky has long gotten used to. Because Tony is always trying to do better and god Bucky wants to learn how.

Because when Tony’s been on an inventing binge, Bucky can trick him into taking a nap by putting on home improvement shows, and it makes Bucky feel like he’s doing something right. The team smirks when they walk in on Tony drooling on his shoulder, but it’s not like that.

He recognizes the look Steve and Natasha start to give him, smug and knowing. And fine, maybe Tony would have been exactly his type, before. But it’s not like that.

Because Bucky is the man who killed his soulmate. He doesn’t let himself think about that kind of thing.

~

When Bucky decides that he wants to officially join the Avengers, Tony leaps at the chance to make him new gear.

He does the same for the entire team, after all, making sure everyone’s safe. It doesn’t make Bucky special. No matter what the wide grins from Rhodey try to imply.

Tony just loves a challenge, loves the excuse to build something new. So maybe he gets more input from Bucky than anyone else, offers to help Bucky test all the gear on top of team training, but it’s not an excuse to spend more time together. He just sees what Bucky is trying to do, and he’s all too familiar with that struggle.

Despite the knowing looks from everyone, it doesn’t mean anything that he lets Bucky into the lab to see the prototypes, even if it is Tony’s only place of solitude in the compound. Even if eventually Bucky just hangs out there with him for hours.

Tony keeps telling himself it means nothing.

Watching Bucky try to teach DUM-E checkers is the final straw, though. Warmth fills Tony’s chest so fast and hard that he can’t breathe around it. And he finally admits that maybe it all means something.

But Tony is the man who doesn’t deserve a soulmate, who never even got to meet them. Who’s not sure he’d want to meet them anymore, as guilty as it makes him feel.

Maybe he can’t lie to himself anymore. Maybe he’s completely in love, but Tony knows better than to say anything.

~

Days spent in the lab with Tony run together in the best possible way. It’s a blur of playing with the bots, watching Tony create the future, and trying to convince him maybe the new reboots of Star Trek do have something to offer.

Bucky knows what a privilege it is to be here, to see Tony at his most relaxed and occasionally unhinged. He tries not to let it go to his head, give him ideas, even though every day he falls more in love. He’s even getting used to the pangs of guilt over the soulmate he should miss.

Until one day they’re watching a movie on the lumpy couch in Tony’s lab. When it’s revealed that Tony called the plot twist from the very beginning, he smirks at Bucky at just the right angle.

Bucky’s heart drops into the floor.

He knows that smirk. He’s seen it a thousand times in a thousand dreams, even if he hasn’t had it in years, he remembers.

And of course it’s Tony, who’s smart and gorgeous, graceful and just the right amount of wicked. Who Bucky already loves so much he can’t breathe sometimes.

Tony, who he still can’t possibly deserve.

So Bucky says nothing, as happy as he thinks he’ll ever be. Tony is here, alive. Bucky’s soulmate is too smart and too tough to die. Bucky gets to watch the way he laughs when their friends do something stupid, to watch Tony’s back in fights while they both try to do better.

He’ll never get to taste the edges of Tony’s smile, but he shoves that aside. Tony is alive. That’s more than enough.

~

Tony’s first thought when he wakes half-buried under rubble is that he’s officially over alien invasions. The second is that the power of the suit fading in and out, causing the concerned shouting over the comms to cut in and out, is really not helping with his throbbing head.

The aliens swarm into what’s left of the nightclub, stealing his attention before Tony can work up the breath to answer, and all the suit’s questionable power has to go to blasting the ones that get too close. The oversized bug-like soldiers just keep coming, and Tony starts to wonder if he’d be better off ditching the deadweight of the armor.

But he’s not sure he can make a run for it. His head is spinning and he’s dimly aware of blood filling the suit, and the aliens are still coming—

There’s a roar of approaching gunfire and then Bucky is bursting into the destroyed building, wielding a large knife and the only gun Tony has built in years.

And the thing is…Tony knows those movements.

He knows that brutal fighting style, the blank rage in those blue eyes. He recognizes the wrath of the Winter Soldier. He’d been dreaming of it most of his life.

Tony can’t believe he never put it together before, because of course it’s Bucky. Resilient and brave and so kind, Bucky who still deserves so much better than Tony. Of course.

Maybe it’s just easier to recognize him with unconsciousness trying to drag Tony under. Maybe Tony’s already dreaming.

He must be, because suddenly Bucky is leaning over him. His eyes are warm, and scared. Tony doesn’t know this part of the dream, doesn’t know what happens next.

Everything is going black. Tony struggles to find his words, to plead. To beg not to be shoved away again.

~

Bucky sits unmoving beside Tony’s hospital bed for three days, even though all he wants to do is run.

He saw the recognition in Tony’s eyes, he knows that Tony knows. He wants to leave before Tony asks him to, because what else could Tony want from a soulmate like him?

But that’s not what Tony had said. Tony asked him to stay while sounding so scared, so resigned. Like he knew Bucky wouldn’t and it was already breaking his heart.

So, Bucky stays.

He’s staring at his fists, trying to stop himself from wondering, when the heart monitor starts beeping triple time, giving away that Tony is awake. Bucky jerks his gaze up to meet Tony’s big brown eyes, watches the flashes of fear and hope that go through them.

Bucky knows he must look terrible, hasn’t slept or shaved in days. He’s barely eaten, and he can feel the lines of worry set into his face. But Tony’s still looking at him with something like awe, just because he’s here.

When Tony smiles nervously the wave of hope that crashes over Bucky nearly overwhelms him, could crush him beneath it.

Bucky smiles back.

[lavenderstobins]

Here’s a masterlist of all the Stranger Things fics I’ve posted! Mostly Robin/Nancy and Steve & Robin 💜

Last updated: 09/11/24 | AO3 | Twitter | ☕️ Ko-Fi

🪻Highlights

➤ love will tear us apart Steve & Robin | T | 12k Robin gets Vecna'd. ➤ leave the speaker on and stay Steve & Robin | T | 8.6k | stobin month 2023 Steve and Robin meet in 1984 instead. ➤ through the years we all will be together (if the fates allow) Steve & Robin | T | 19.6k Steve and Robin work on Christmas. Everyone brings a little bit of Christmas to them.

🌿 Multichapter Fics

➤ you're out of touch, i'm out of time Steve & Robin, Robin/Nancy, Steve/Eddie | T | 12/12 | 75.5k Steve and Nancy travel back in time to 1983 and try to fix things.

➤ in the web that is my own, i begin again (WIP) Steve & Robin | T | 6/11 | 32.5k | Spider-Man AU Steve struggles to balance his superhero identity with his regular life.

➤ one more or one less (WIP) Steve & Robin | T | 1/? | 2.5k After Starcourt, Steve realises that Robin's missing.

➤ holding my last breath (WIP) Nancy/Robin | M | 1/12 | 3.6k | Scream AU There's a killer targeting teenagers in Hawkins. After the killer takes the life of one of Nancy's friends, she'll stop at nothing to get justice.

➤ chasing visions of our futures (WIP) Stevie/Eddie, Stevie & Robin, Robin/Nancy | T | 2/7 | 4k Stevie's dead set on nudging Robin and Nancy together. She's not expecting to realise her feelings for Eddie along the way.

➤ separation brings us awfully close Robin/Chrissy, Robin/Nancy, Chrissy/Nancy, Chrissy & Eddie | T | 3/3 | 9.8k Chrissy learns the hard way that Spider-Woman can’t save everyone.

➤ you’re someone (who knows someone i once knew) (WIP) T | 1/3 | 4.4k Steve Harrington dies. Decades later, Dustin Henderson resurrects him. This is not that story. That story’s already been told. No, this is about what comes after.

🍊 Oneshots

➤ you got light in your eyes Steve & Robin | T | 7.2k | Sequel to Out of Touch Steve can't stop thinking about what Mr. Hauser had told him about Robin.

➤ the pleasure, the privilege is mine Steve & Robin | T | 7.6k Robin won’t let Steve go alone. Not even at the end of the world.

➤ share the same space for a minute or two Robin/Nancy | G | 2.4k Nancy isn’t yet sure what to do with herself now that the world isn’t ending. Robin helps.

➤ the future's unwritten, the past is a corridor Nancy & Eddie, Steve & Robin, Robin/Nancy, Steve/Eddie | T | 26.3k Robin and Nancy have just moved into their new house with their son, next door to Steve, Eddie and their daughter.

➤ guess i'm a coward (i just want to feel alright) Steve/Eddie, Eddie & everyone | T | 7.2k When the bats attack, Eddie sticks to the plan, and he runs, and he lives. He thinks, maybe, that he’ll hate himself forever for it.

➤ cracks in your ceiling Robin/Nancy | T | 9.9k Nancy has a movie night with friends, invents a new disease, and quite possibly has her life ruined by Sigourney Weaver.

➤ in war, in peace, in death Steve/Eddie, Steve & Robin, Robin/Nancy | T | 7.8k Steve realises Robin's alive, trapped in the Fade. (A Dragon Age AU)

➤ now i've found a real love  Robin/Nancy, Nancy & Mike | T | 8.7k Nancy Wheeler deserves a good Christmas. In fact, they all do.

➤ used to be you but now it's you and me Steve & Robin | T | 2.4k | twin stars stobin zine contribution It's only natural to cry on your birthday.

➤ 'cause i'm gonna be free and i'm gonna be fine Steve & Robin | T | 7.5k Two decades after the Upside Down closes for good, Steve's daughter goes viral on TikTok, and things quickly escalate from there.

➤ this dream isn't feeling sweet Lucas & Robin, Robin/Vickie | T | 13.1k Lucas finds himself struggling at the post-championship game party.

➤ there’s joy not far from here (i know there is) Steve & Robin, Steve & Robin & the Party | T | 3.7k Steve, Robin and the party have an important discussion about homophobia.

➤ HOW TO SURVIVE THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE: A GUIDE BY DUSTIN HENDERSON Dustin & everyone | G | 2.5k Dustin's guide to the apocalypse.

➤ this is how we'll dance Steve & Robin & Eddie, minor Robin/Carol, Steve & Dustin | T | 1.8k Prom night 1985 from Robin, Eddie and Steve's perspectives.

➤ hold onto hope if you got it Wayne & Eddie, Wayne & Everyone | G | 2k When the trailer park is destroyed, Wayne loses his mug collection of twenty years. Eddie decides this is unacceptable and must be rectified.

➤ you will surely be the death of me  Steve & Robin, Steve & Robin & the Party | G | 4.4k When Eddie plans to go out of town, Robin and Steve finally agree to play a D&D campaign, on the following conditions: 1) it’s one session, and 2) Robin’s the DM.

➤ life among the dead  Nancy & Robin & Steve, Robin/Nancy | T | 1.3k A Pushing Daisies AU in which Nancy can resurrect the dead.

➤ tonight i'll dream while i’m in bed Robin & Steve, minor Robin/Nancy | G | 4.1k Steve and Robin met, once, long before Scoops Ahoy and Starcourt Mall.

➤ sing me to sleep Robin & Steve & Nancy | T | 1.5k Nancy goes searching for Robin in the Upside Down after Steve dies.

➤ caught up in the motion Robin/Nancy, Robin & Steve, Robin & the Party | T | 3.2k Robin accidentally wears Nancy's Emerson t-shirt to work. Problem is, nobody apart from Steve knows that they're dating.

➤ kiss and (don't) tell Steve/Eddie, Eddie & the Party | T | 1.8k Eddie has a hickey. The party try to figure out who gave it to him.

🩵 Josieverse

➤ bright as the morning sun Steve & Robin & Josie | G | 1.4k | stobin month 2024 A slice-of-life oneshot revolving around Robin, Steve and Josie.

➤ here's to my future (here's to my yesterday) Steve & Robin & Eddie | T | 3.3k Robin’s three months pregnant and still only two people know. They’ve been invited to Dustin’s Halloween party, though. She can keep it a secret. Probably.

➤ all for freedom and for pleasure Steve & Josie & Eddie | G | 0.8k Eddie discovers that Robin’s daughter has learnt how to blackmail people.

➤ what you fear the most Steve & Robin & Josie | G | 1k Steve comes home to find Robin and her daughter Josie seemingly trapped.

➤ somebody that you used to know Robin/Valerie, Steve & Robin | M | 1.9k Before Josie was born—before everything changed—Robin had had something with Valerie. Nothing serious, nothing labelled, but it mattered all the same.

➤ when you touch the stars, hold my hand Steve & Robin & Josie | T | 3.3k Josie is confused about why she doesn’t have a dad.

🌹 Smut fics

➤ if this feeling flows both ways Robin/Nancy | E | 9.1k Nancy accidentally receives a sext from Robin and can’t stop thinking about it.

➤ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me Robin/Nancy | E | 8.8k It’s been a while since Nancy’s had time alone with Robin. She intends to make the most of it.

🌸 Rarepairs

➤ every time it rains Steve/Kali | G | 1.6k Kali wouldn't class herself as someone fond of walks, but she is fond of Steve.

➤ neck full of mockingbirds (WIP) Robin/Carol | E | 9/? | 7.5k Carol and Robin, from start to end.

➤ i wanna be adored Nancy/Eden | G | 1.9k Nancy's lonely. Eden's there.

[southernsolarpunk]

Hey check this out

I was making a zine (solarpunk ofc) and decided to use a bunch of old National Geographic magazines to cut up and use in a scrappy diy scrapbook fashion and of course I started reading them. This one in particular:

It caught my eye because it’s from September 1980 & talks about the Middle East. My brain wonders if they mention Palestine and they do! I copied the text for accessibility, but I put pictures at the end of the original pages.

“Jerusalem: reunited or occupied? The question has divided the city's 400,000 Jews and 100,000 Arabs since Israel annexed East Jerusalem in 1967.

BEIRUT, JANUARY 1975. Armed soldiers lead me through labyrinthine back streets, up a dark stairway to a midnight rendez-vous. Only a bare bulb lights the temporary command post; Yasir Arafat, chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organization, seldom dares spend two days in the same place. “Our argument is not with the Jews” He tells me. "We are both Semites. They have lived with us for centuries. Our enemies are the Zionist colonizers and their backers who insist Palestine belongs to them exclusively.

We Arabs claim deep roots there too."

Two decades ago Palestinians were to be found in United Nations Relief Agency camps at places like Gaza and Jericho, in a forlorn and pitiable state. While Palestinian spokesmen pressed their case in world cap-itals, the loudest voice the world heard was that of terrorists, with whom the word Palestinian came to be associated. Jordan fought a war to curb them. The disintegration of Lebanon was due in part to the thousands of refugees within its borders.

Prospects for peace brightened, however, when President Anwar Sadat of Egypt, most powerful of the Arab countries, made his historic trip to Israel in November 1977. A year later Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin signed the Camp David accords, a framework for the return of the occupied Sinai Peninsula to Egypt.

The former enemies established diplomatic relations and opened mail, telephone, and airline communications.

The Camp David accords also addressed the all-important Palestinian question but left it vague. Sadat insists that any lasting peace depends on an eventual Palestinian homeland in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Gaza. Israel agrees to limited autonomy for those regions, but, fearful of a new and hostile Palestinian state suddenly planted on its borders, insists that Israeli troops must maintain security there.

Crowded Rashidiyah refugee camp, set among orange groves south of the ancient Phoenician port of Tyre in Lebanon, lies on the front lines. Frequent pounding by Israeli military jets and warships seeking PLO targets has war-hardened its population, some 13,700 Palestinians.

At the schoolyard I watched a solemn flag raising. Uniformed ashbal, or lion cubs, stood rigid as color guards briskly ran up the green-white-and-black Palestinian flag.

Ranging in age from 8 to 12, they might have been Cub Scouts— except for the loaded rifles they held at present arms. Behind them stood two rows of girls, zaharat, or little flowers. Same age, same weapons.

Over lunch of flat bread, hummus, yo-gurt, and chicken I commented to my hosts, a group of combat-ready fedayeen, that 30 years of bitter war had settled nothing nor gained the Palestinians one inch of their homeland. Was there no peaceful way to press their cause?

"Yes, and we are doing it. Finally, after 30 years, most countries in the United Nations recognize that we too have rights in Palestine. But we feel that until your country stops its unconditional aid to Israel, we have two choices: to fight, or to face an unmarked grave in exile."

AFTER CROSSING the Allenby Bridge from Amman, I drove across the fertile Jordan Valley through Arab Jericho and past some of the controversial new Jewish settlements: Mitzpe Jericho, Tomer, Maale Adumim, Shilat. Then as I climbed through the steep stony hills to Jerusalem, I saw that it too had changed. A ring of high-rise apartments and offices was growing inexorably around the occupied Arab side of the walled town. Within the wall, too, scores of Arab houses had been leveled during extensive reconstruction.

"Already 64 settlements have been built on the West Bank," said a Christian Palestinian agriculturist working for an American church group in Jerusalem. "And another 10 are planned," he said. Unfolding a copy of the master plan prepared in 1978 by the World Zionist Organization, he read: "Real-izing our right to Eretz-Israel... with or without peace, we will have to learn to live with the minorities...

The Israeli Government has reaffirmed the policy. In Prime Minister Menachem Begin's words: "Settlement is an inherent and inalienable right. It is an integral part of our national security."

"Security" is a word deeply etched into the Israeli psyche. The country has lived for 30 years as an armed camp, always on guard against PLO raids and terrorist bombings.

Whenever such incidents occur, the response is quick: even greater retaliation.

In Jerusalem I met with David Eppel, an English-language broadcaster for the Voice of Israel. "We must continue to build this country. Israel is our lawful home, our des-tiny. We have the determination, and an immense pool of talent, to see it through." His cosmopolitan friends a city plan-ner, a psychology professor, an author gathered for coffee and conversation at David's modern apartment on Jerusalem's Leib Yaffe Road.

Amia Lieblich's book, Tin Soldiers on Jerusalem Beach, studies the debilitating effects almost constant war has had on life in the Jewish state, a nation still surrounded by enemies. As she and her husband kindly drove me to my hotel in Arab Jerusalem afterward, some of that national apprehension surfaced in the writer herself.

"We don't often come over to this part of town," she said. "Especially at night."

I DROVE OUT of the Old City in the dark of morning and arrived a few hours later at the nearly finished Israeli frontier post, whence a shuttle bus bounced me through no-man's-land to the Egyptian ter-minal. As a result of the Egyptian-Israeli treaty, it was possible for the first time since 1948 to travel overland from Jerusalem to Cairo. An Egyptian customs man opened my bags on a card table set up in the sand. I took a battered taxi into nearby El Arish, to a sleepy bank that took 45 minutes to convert dollars into Egyptian pounds, Then 1 hired a Mercedes for the

200-mile run across the northern Sinai des-ert, the Suez Canal, and the Nile Delta. By sundown Cairo was mine.

Despite official government optimism, I found many in Cairo worried that President Sadat's bold diplomatic gestures might fail.

The city was noticeably tense as Israel officially opened its new embassy on Mohi el-Din Abu el-Ez Street in Cairo's Dukki quarter. Black-uniformed Egyptian troops guarded the chancery and nearby intersections as the Star of David flew for the first time in an Arab capital. Across town, police with fixed bayonets were posted every ten feet around the American Embassy. Others were posted at the TV station and the larger hotels. Protests were scattered, mostly peaceful. None disturbed the cadence of the city.

Welcoming ever larger delegations of tourists and businessmen from Europe and the U.S., Cairo was busier than ever-and more crowded. Despite a building boom, many Egyptians migrating from the countryside, perhaps 10,000 a month, still find housing only by squatting among tombs at the City of the Dead, the huge old cemetery on the southeast side of the capital.

Even with the new elevated highway and wider bridge across the Nile, half-hour traffic standstills are common. Commuters arrive at Ramses Station riding even the roofs of trains, then cram buses until axles break.

Cairo smog, a corrosive blend of diesel fumes and hot dust from surrounding des-erts, rivals tear gas.

Despite the rampant blessings of prog-ress, Cairo can still charm. In the medieval Khan el-Khalili bazaar near Cairo's thousand-year-old Al-Azhar University, I sought out Ahmad Saadullah's sidewalk café. I found that 30 piasters (45 cents) still brings hot tea, a tall water pipe primed with tobacco and glowing charcoal, and the latest gossip. The turbaned gentleman on the carpeted bench opposite was unusually talk-ative; we dispensed with weather and the high cost of living and got right to politics:

"Of course I am behind President Sadat, but he is taking a great risk. The Israelis have not fully responded. If Sadat fails, no other Arab leader will dare try for peace again for a generation."

Across town at the weekly Akhbar El-Yom newspaper, one of the largest and most widely read in the Middle East, chief editor Abdel-Hamid Abdel-Ghani drove home that same point.

"What worries me most is that President Sadat's agreement with Israel has isolated Egypt from our brother nations," he told me. "When Saudi Arabia broke with us, it was a heavy loss. The Saudis are our close neighbors. Now they have canceled pledges for hundreds of millions in development aid to Egypt. Some 200,000 Egyptians-teach-ers, doctors, engineers live and work in the kingdom.

"And Saudi Arabia, guardian of the holy cities of Mecca and Medina, remains for Muslim Egypt a spiritual homeland."

This magazine was published before my mom was born, and yet the sentiments have basically unchanged. An interesting look at the past, and more proof this didn’t start October 7th. (But imagine my followers already knew that)

[aristocratic-otter]

Lemon Blueberry Shortbread

A Lady Ruth Charity Zine fic, featuring art from @letraspal

Summary:

Two afternoons of learning to cook a family recipe, thirty years apart.

Part 1: Cooking with Lucy

Ruth

“No, darling, don’t cut the blueberries!”

Lucy drops the slim knife and pulls her hands back in startlement. At eight years old, I’ve only just started letting her cut things, and then only soft fruits with my dullest knife.

“Why not, mummy?” she asks. “We cut the blueberries last week!”

I sigh and smile. This is part of it. This passing on of hard won knowledge. That the methods that suit one occasion aren’t meant to be applied to another. This is the reason that I was so thrilled when Lucy decided she wanted to learn to cook. Thrilled and relieved.

It’s been far more difficult, being a mother, than I ever envisioned when Andrew and I set out on this journey together. I’d thought that my girl would be much like I was; fond of home comforts and domestic pursuits. I thought I’d wile away many a happy hours sewing or cleaning or crafting with my daughter.

Well, best laid plans and all that.

Read on AO3