#Something to fiddle with while I keep working on drafts

[shadovan]

Inbox call. 🖤

Could be a meme, could be chaos, we’ll see when he gets there.

[onyourowndaisymae]

unicorn bandages - alt. version

this has been sitting in my drafts awhile. someone requested some lucifer hurt/comfort (that i haven't got around to yet) and i wrote this, only to realize this didn't exactly hit the mark when i finished. but i figured it's cute, so i might as well post it

word count: 1145

content + warnings: playful/smartass lucifer, general fluff, minor physical injury, general mentions of embarrassment

you need to learn to be more careful.

that's what you think as you walk the rest of the way home to the house of lamentation, lost in your own thoughts. the gentle searing pain of your skinned knee was enough of a punishment-- did you brain have to keep replaying the memory of you tripping in the middle of town, too? being clumsy and wearing shorts were both incompatible with your plans today, yet here you are, looking foolish and feeling exposed from your mistake.

the blood had long since dried against your skin. you felt sticky and gross, yearning now for a shower and a place to hide from your lingering embarrassment. did anyone from RAD see you eat shit outside that shop. ugh, and they way nobody helped you up, how you awkwardly stumbled to your feet and-- ahhh!! please, no more!!

the familiar creak of the front doors announced your arrival to the house of lamentation. you shuffled inside awkwardly, head hung, staring at your feet to avoid another tumble. even the book you bought on your day out couldn't console you enough to block out the invisible judgement you felt.

"what is that?"

you lifted your head to find lucifer stopped in the archway to the living room, eyes narrowed at you.

"huh?"

"what is that?" he repeated. "what happened to your knee?"

"oh. i, uh, i fell on my way home and scraped my knee. i don't-- i'm fine. it's just a scrape."

you felt the urge to shy away from his stern gaze, to hide your little scrape from his prying eyes and pretend it never happened. he looks at the wound for a few moments longer before meeting your eyes.

"will you sit down on the stairs for a moment, mc?"

"it's not that big of a deal. it just need to be wiped off, nothing special."

"then surely you'd be okay with me cleaning it for you? since it's such a minor injury."

you couldn't think of much else to argue. he gave you that smug half-smirk he saved for minor victories such as this and disappeared from sight. you shuffled to the stairs and sat, slumped in defeat, as he presumably went to fetch some first aid supplies.

the avatar of pride returned as quickly as he left, this time with a small black box in his hands. a small gesture of his hands urged you to stretch the injured leg out to give him better access. gloved hands busied themselves digging through unidentified supplies.

"what happened?" he asks, quietly, as he pulls out what looks like a cotton pad and some sort of cleaning agent.

"i was... i went out to get this book satan recommended. y'know, because he always wants to talk about what he's reading." he nodded and you continued. "so i decided to grab it while i was out. apparently there's a hole in the sidewalk out front, because as i was walking out, my foot got caught and i-- ow!"

your cry of pain was almost indignant as lucifer interrupted your story by cleaning the wound. the sharp sting of something akin to but not quite isopropyl alcohol lit your knee on fire. had the scrape really been that bad?

"the bacteria in the devildom is a bit more aggressive than in the human realm," he explained, softer look on his face than a moment ago. "we wouldn't want our favorite human getting sick from an accident like this, would we?"

as if he was trying to apologize, lucifer brought your knee closer by the back of your leg and gently blew on the wound to alleviate some of the pain of the cleanser currently working its magic. it was nice. for a moment, he was lucifer, big brother, not the avatar of pride he embodied in public. his fingers fiddled with pulling and stretching your skin to ensure each inch was properly wiped clean. there was a certain level of sincerity to his movements that made you smile.

"did you do this a lot when your brothers were growing up?"

"you have no idea."

that makes you laugh. he smiles, just a little, before continuing.

"angels are supposed to be resilient. their skin is thicker than a human being's, so they shouldn't get hurt as easily. and yet training my younger brothers was-- well, it was quite the event."

"i'm gonna guess mammon was the biggest pain?"

"definitely mammon." a fond smile. he wiped a cotton pad across your busted knee before continuing. "every time i saw him, he was always covered in bruises and scrapes. i could never quite get him to admit that he'd got them wandering off in pursuit of his younger brothers."

"that sounds a lot like him."

lucifer picked up a small tin containing the bandages. these must have been picked out by asmodeus-- instead of the usual plain design lucifer always grabbed, these were bright and colorful with unicorn designs. the avatar of pride only offered a small sigh before pulling an adequately sized one out and applying for you. in a few moments, what was a terribly embarrassing memory had been sealed from the world behind two unicorns hopping in unison over a rainbow.

"aren't you going to kiss it better?"

your sarcastic question was followed by your mischievous little smirk. maybe you shouldn't have teased him while he was in such a good mood. his eyes narrowed a bit before, to your surprise, his smirk mirrored your own.

you open your mouth to play off your joke, but lucifer's already lifting your knee to his mouth. your whole body is sliding uncomfortably off the stair step-- karma sure is efficient-- as his lips hover above your knee. lucifer's lips brush the top of your bandage. he makes an obnoxious kissing sound to honor your request before unceremoniously dropping your leg, leaving you sprawled in an odd position on the steps.

"i was kidding," you whine.

"my apologies. i just wanted to make sure you healed correctly."

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

the avatar of pride is quick to repack the first aid kit and rise to his feet. you reach out for his hand to help you up. in a bout of playfulness, he instead high fives your open palm, small smirk dripping with sarcasm. of course you had to catch him in a good mood. you sigh dramatically. this time, his offer to help you stand was genuine. a quick tug of your hand and lucifer had quickly pulled your fragile human body off the steps.

"careful, mc. wouldn't want you to fall again."

"i think you'd enjoy it, actually. sadist."

"... you're probably right."

"huh?!"

your cry is indignant as he begins to exit. you chase after him without hesitation. that smirk on his face meant he was joking, right?

[gracethyomen]

Nobody asked but idc I need some fluff for while I'm writing the angst...

Matthew Michael Murdock in Love:

TOUCH. STARVED.

This man has been touch-starved for literally so long. Besides his friends guiding him or the one-night stands he participates in, this man is seriously lacking in Vitamin A for Affection.

Once he feels like he's allowed to, if his baby is nearby best believe he wants to be able to touch her in some way at all times. Reading a book? He's got a hand on your leg while he does his work. Or he's got his head on your shoulder and asks you to read to him. Cooking? Ninja man sneaks up behind you to hold you. Snoozing on his couch? He'll pull your legs into his lap or hand over your hair. Sitting together? Hand on your leg, around your shoulders, or touching your waist. If you're within arm's reach forget about it. He finds safety in your touch and will seek it out every chance.

Matt loves touching his sweetheart's hair. So soft and so smooth on his skin. He fiddles with it every chance he gets, toying with the ends or sweeping it over your shoulder, tucking it behind your ear, running his fingers through it... He can't get enough.

He's protective asf. Which sometimes turns him into a mother-hen. He takes his job as your support system/protector very seriously. Always walking between you and the road on the sidewalk, arm in arm. He's always conscious of where you are in the apartment and when you leave he makes sure to check what your plans are so he can keep track of where you are.

He hates texting you. He'd rather call you or swap voice memos. Any chance to hear your voice over the robotic AI voice that reads his text messages.

That's all I've got for now I needed something soft to get me through the angsty drafting.

:)

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Need

AN: This was born from my desire to have Hyunjin put his fingers in my mouth, my overall hand kink, and my general down badness for Hyunjin. I was working on another Stray Kids fic but, it got too frustrating so I had to take a step back. I decided to tackle other fics in my drafts in the meantime.

Synopsis: Your boyfriend looks particularly handsome tonight. It doesn't help that he's been running his fingers along his lips and fiddling with his hands in ways that are far too appealing.

Heads up: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader, pwp, established relationship, dirty talk, slight praise kink, fingering (f. receiving) and Hyunjin makes Reader suck on his fingers post fingering.

Word count: 718

I will block you if you are minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Normally, you're better at keeping your desires under control.

However, Hyunjin had been distracting you all night with his stupidly handsome face and equally as pretty fingers. Thinking back, you doubted you were subtle throughout the evening but, as you two kiss fiercely against his bedroom door, you can't find it in you to care now.

The party rages on outside of his room as you guide one of his hands to the bottom of your dress, leaving no room for questioning what you pulled him aside for.

Your thighs part for him instantaneously as his hand makes its way up towards your pussy. He groans against your mouth when his fingers make contact with the wet material of your panties.

"Fuck, I knew you wanted me but, you're already so wet," he mutters when he pulls back for air, his eyes lidded with want and surprise.

"It's not my fault you were being so hot all night," you respond breathlessly, hips pressing against his fingers in search of more friction. Nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.

"I was being hot?" Your boyfriend asks bemused, applying more pressure as he strokes you through your likely ruined panties. Ensuring he pays special attention to your clit. You're always so cute when you get all needy like this.

"Ye-Yeah, so h-hot. You're always h-hot," you manage to breathe out, eyes fluttering at every electrifying stroke of your clit. You were so high strung that it probably wouldn't take all that much for Hyunjin to make you fall apart on his hand.

"Aw baby, I'm flattered," he coos, pulling you into another frenzied kiss while he pushes your panties aside to touch you directly.

Your reaction is instant.

Whining into his mouth as his fingers lightly run along your wet folds. His half-hard cock pressing against your thigh as he groans when he realises just how wet you are.

"Fuck," he mutters against your lips, sinking two fingers into you while his thumb rubs circles against your swollen clit.

All you can do is lean against the door for support and grip his shoulders for dear life at the intrusion. His long fingers curling in ways that already have you seeing stars and the harsh circles on your clit making your legs shake. More of your arousal leaking onto his hand all the while.

"Hyun-Hyunjin- please- I'm-," you're not entirely sure what you're begging for but, Hyunjin seems to understand you just fine. What little self-restraint he had snapping in an instant as he fucks you harder on his hand and, litters your throat with licks and kisses and nips.

One of your hands attempts to reach up to your unoccupied mouth to try and muffle your moans but, he stops you instantly. Usually warm eyes now lidded with want and a tinge of something more dangerous.

"I want to hear you," he says, eyes boring into yours while he brings you closer and closer to release. Intently taking in all your facial expressions and sounds. The obscene noises of your wetness only spurring him on further.

With a strangled cry of his name and your nails biting into his shoulder, you cum on his ridiculously pretty fingers. Your eyes are shut as shudders and tremors render your body immobile for a few moments but, you're sure you can faintly hear Hyunjin saying something. You're too far gone to make out what it is, however.

"You did so good," he praises after giving you a soft kiss. Slowly pulling his fingers from your still slightly spasming walls and your legs quake at the movement.

"Thank you," you say weakly once you remember how to speak and his eyes flash briefly before he presses a more searing kiss to your likely bruised lips.

"If you keep being so cute, I might have to fuck you," he says and, you're not sure if that's a threat or a promise. Before you can respond, however, his glistening fingers tap on your bottom lip. Without much prompting, you take them into your mouth. Hyunjin's plush lips part as he watches you lick his fingers clean. A quiet moan leaving said lips when you slightly gag from taking them too deep too fast.

Looks like he's going to have to fuck you after all.

[satorisoup]

★ THE AFTER PARTY

⋆ 6 - PRAISE

2 days had gone by in a flash. alisa had been correct, you were on the schedule today to come in to the studio. with one song brainstormed, but not finalized, you decided it would be good to get the opinions of the members you had met a couple days ago.

now arrived at the building, you pass by the security guard that had once tried to stop you before, who gave you an embarrassed nod of acknowledgement while you made your way to the elevators and up to the door of the studio.

among walking in, your plans seem to be tarnished as there happened to only be 1 of the 4 band members sitting in the room.

kenma, as you distantly remembered, sat hunched in front of the recording board, fingers fiddling with the buttons and switches, head turning towards you when he seemed to hear the door clicked shut. awkwardly shuffling to his side, you stood with your etched papers gripped in your fingers, unsure of what to ask, and what to do.

“um, do you think you could read this over? it’s just an idea, so i need all of the feedback i can get.” you asked, anxiously tapping your thumbs against the work in your hands.

“i can try.” is all he responded, taking the papers from your hands and scanning them over. his complete silence made you feel as though you needed to hold you breath in suspense, unsure of what reaction to expect at all.

“it’s good. im not really a singer so… i can’t give much opinion on the lyrics. but, i could make a beat based on how it’s worded.”

you looked at him with an understanding nod of your head, the breath that you held being exhaled. when you moved to pick up the papers, he spoke up again.

“ask kuroo. he’s the singer. and tell akaashi what vocals he would need to do.”

if you were honest with yourself, being in the room with just one person from the band, the quietest one at that, already made your skin crawl with nerves. however, he seemed to notice how unsure you were of your exact instructions, so you were grateful for his advice.

soon the door handle had raddled, slamming open to reveal the missing three. quick greetings were shared, and unwilling to waste time, you set to do exactly what kenma had told you.

“excuse me, akaashi? and kuroo? i need to talk with you two, if you wouldn’t mind...” you claimed, the two following eachother to where you sat in a chair.

“this is one of the songs i came up with. i didn’t have much time, so if you could, please give me some of your opinions.” you encouraged, handing each of them a paper of your draft.

they both read over the documents while you awkwardly sat straight in your chair waiting for them to finish, hands in your lap and eyes studying their faces to hopefully get any possible indication of what they were thinking. before you could get an idea, one of them finally broke the tension and spoke up.

“it’s extremely organized for being just a rough draft.” akaashi commented.

“oh, well i don’t want you to have to read anything messy…” you replied, eyes avoidant while you twiddled with your hands.

“the fact you were even able to come up with a song in just two days is impressive in itself. this is really good.” kuroo said, hand on his chin with a look of mild surprise evident on his face.

“thank you, but is there anything i should change about it? i don’t want you to perform something you all don’t like…” you questioned.

kuroo hums to himself as he reads over the song once more, “i think… you should stop worrying and be more confident. this piece is great. we’ll get started with it right away, so quit panicking and keep it up, alright?”

it felt more than good to be praised by someone who was loved by thousands. it felt almost too natural slipping out of his mouth, and something at the very bottom of the pit of your stomach craved for more input if it was coming from him. and a part of you started to believe maybe writing songs wouldn’t be too much of a stress if this is what you got in return.

“will do.”

<- PREV ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ->

★ FUN FACTS

⋆ alisa didn’t fire the security guard. she couldn’t remember if she had told him to put your name down and felt bad about it.

⋆ kenma never had any interest in singing, claiming it would be too tiring to strain your voice that much.

⋆ TAGLIST

if your name is in bold, i can not tag you.

@bontensbabygirl @aichiomei @toomanygoldfish @withlovekiki @strwbrryeyes @lifesucksweswallow @snail-squasher @le000xxgrd @1lovestrawberrymilk

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

i didn't sign up for this!

IKE EVELAND - DAY 3

“Hey, welcome in!” Ike called out as he heard the bells above the cafe door ring. You walked in, shivering with a beige scarf wrapped around your neck, your puffy white jacket covered with snow as you shrugged it off before getting inside. It was nice, being in a warm and cozy small local cafe. You knew almost everyone who worked there, from how frequently you go there, even during rainstorms. You saw your favourite employee (though you always swear you don’t have favourites). Ike always had a somewhat special place in your heart; he was a novelist with a part time job at the cafe, and you were an illustrator. His books were always fun to read, as he showed you a few drafts, but he’s never published one.

“Ike, hey! Could I get-“ You started but Ike already interrupted you.

“The usual? Your iced coffee with three shots of espresso, two pumps of vanilla, chocolate syrup with caramel drizzle and whipped cream? [a/n: stop ok idk any drinks]” He recited, as you had always requested before. It was an extremely random combination, but you always seemed to love it.

“You remembered?- Oh, well, obviously, I always order it,” You said, chuckling, “Yeah, that’s what I’ll get.” He laughed a bit, then nodded. He made the coffee and gave it to you, as you handed him money.

“Have you finished another illustration, (Name)?” Ike asked curiously, leaning on the counter towards you.

“I don’t have anyone who commissioned me yet.” You told Ike, sipping the hot coffee with a sigh of content.

“Maybe you could illustrate the cover for… my book?” He asked hesitantly, fiddling with the golden chain on his glasses. You looked at him, dumbfounded. Ike finally published a book?

“You… got a book published?” You asked him, your excitement climbing. You’ve always wanted him to finally have a book on the shelves, mainly because his writing style was so unique and his books had always piqued your interest.

“It just got through editing. I still need to illustrate a cover for it, then I can publish it.” Ike said in a meek tone, clearing his throat.

“Congratulations!! I would love to illustrate for you! Okay, okay, so!-“ You started off at the mouth with excitement before Ike inevitably stopped you with laughter.

“Okay, okay, calm down (name)!” He laughed, pushing up his glasses, “First of all, are you free anytime this weekend? Maybe we could meet up, y’know, discuss a few things? Or… how does it work for you?” He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, a shy smile creeping up his flushed cheeks; he was very flustered about your excitement towards something that seemed so mundane for him.

“Yep, yep, I could clear Saturday if that’s cool with you!-“

“Woah, woah, if you have something important for Saturday, we can meet some other time, I don’t wanna like- Take up so much of your time.” Ike said sheepishly, leaning forward as you suggested having to clear a day just for him.

“Huh? Oh, no, don’t worry! It’s nothing important. Just a date that I don’t really want to go to.” You waved it off, chuckling quietly.

“A… date, huh?” Maybe I could take her out on a date… Ike thought as he got embarrassed at the thought. He’s been pining for you for a while, ever since he started to become your friend, “Uh, sure then… If Saturday’s alright, I can do that.”

That Saturday, he ended up meeting with her on Saturday at the cafe again, but just when he wasn’t on shift.

“So what’s your plan for the cover?” You asked, taking your drawing tablet out as he sat beside you after ordering two coffees.

“Uhm… I made a sketch already of what I wanted, I was just thinking that you could just render it?” He asked, taking out a page with a very rough but still talented drawing of his desired cover.

“Sure! It’s a very nice drawing, by the way.” You giggled when he blushed bashfully, shaking his head at your comment while you scanned his drawing to keep most of his originality in the cover while still fixing a few rough patches and such.

“So, uhm… Why did you not want to go on that date?” Ike asked awkwardly as you started to render his sketch on your drawing iPad, since he insisted you stay for lunch.

“Oh, I didn’t really like the person. Honestly just accepted the date to get over talking with them.” You shrugged, looking up for a moment at Ike while you took a sip of coffee, “Why do you ask?”

“Ah, nothing, just curious… Say, if I asked you on a date, would you accept?” Ike asked meekly, turning away from your face.

“Hm, well, sure.” You shrugged, the words not connecting in your mind while you drew, mainly focused on his art. Your response made him become bright red and very flustered.

“Oh- Ah, then… Would… you go on a date with me?” He stumbled through the words, looking down into his cup as he asked, expecting rejection.

“Huh? Oh, uh… Sure.” You replied, looking at him with a surprised expression though you sort of expected it at this point. You’d never tell him how obvious he was though.

[toasttt11]

and again

January 5, 2021

Remington sat on a couch out on the balcony of the bar he was in, he has just played in the world juniors with Team USA and they won the gold medal game only a few hours ago.

Remington enjoyed being able to play with his brother, something the brothers haven’t been able to do much before.

He didn’t like that Luke was not playing as he was recovering still from an injury, it was still very werid to Remington not playing with Luke but that was something he would have to get used to as they would be getting drafted soon to separate teams.

Remington’s head shot hearing the door open and saw a smiley Cole walking out side onto the balcony and shutting the door behind him.

“What are you doing out here Birthday boy!” Cole teased softly trying to keep his eyes on Remington’s eyes and not get distracted by admiring him.

“It’s your birthday too.” Remington quipped back fondly rolling his eyes.

“Yeah but you can legally drink here.” Cole teased shaking his drink towards Remington, who just rolled his eyes.

The world Juniors that year was held in the Edmonton and luckily for Remington he can legally drink in Edmonton at eighteen.

“I just had a drink from Trev.” Remington told Cole, Trevor was so exicted to give his baby brother his first legal drink.

“Want more?” Cole smirked slightly titling his head at Remington.

“No i’m good.” Remington politely denied not really liking drinking much.

Cole shrugged accepting that and plopped down on the couch next to Remington, “Hey we’re cool right.” Cole nervously blurted out, he’s been worried that he overstepped on his draft night for one and half years now and he has never had chance to talk about it yet with Remington.

Remington blinked looking shocked, He knew why Cole was asking. It was a moment he could never forget and thought about it often, even if he wanted to admit he forgot about it.

“We are good Cole.” Remington gently reassured him, Remington never had a problem with Cole he was just trying to distance himself from Cole to lose his feelings for Cole but that did not work at all.

“Good.” Cole nodded looking less tense, “Still i am really sorry if i made you uncomfortable that night.” Cole looked at Remington with sad apologetically eyes. Cole noticed the distance between them since they almost kissed at his draft party and could not help but feel it was his actions that caused them to grow apart.

“You did not make me uncomfortable i promise.” Remington kindly reassured Cole reaching over and gently squeezing Cole’s arm.

Coles eye’s widen and he looked at his arm and Remington’s gentle touch, “Okay.” Cole shakily nodded getting distracted at Remington’s touch.

Remington’s eyes widen realizing he was touching Cole’s arm and quickly brought his hand back and awkwardly smiled thinking he made Cole uncomfortable.

“Sorry.” Remington awkwardly mumbled avoiding Cole’s eyes.

Cole shook his head snapping out of his daze, “It’s all good Rem.” Cole softly reassured him, he was not mad at all that Remington touched him, he never would mind if Remington touched him.

Remington nodded in response fiddling with his bracelets, he started at out the balcony with his shoulders tense from how awkward it is to be around Cole now.

“Really it’s okay.” Cole gently reassured Remington laying a soft hand on his shoulder feeling Remington tense more before starting to relax.

“Okay.” Remington nodded looking back at Cole.

“You have grown quite a lot.” Cole commented after a few moments of silence and he was just looking at Remington.

Cole noticed when he saw Remington for the first time in a while at the beginning of the tournament how tall Remington has gotten but also how much Remington has grown in looks, his face lost most of his baby fight.

“That’s what happens.” Remington nervously quipped, feeling way to nervous from being stared at from Cole to even think about what he just said.

Cole laughed at Remington’s words shaking his head fondly.

Cole’s laughter died down and he stared at Remington with a soft smile, “I have missed you.” Cole admitted his hand slowly and tentatively reaching out and brushing a strand of hair off Remington’s forehead.

Remington��s eyes widen drastically at Cole’s words and touch and stared at him shocked, “I missed you too.” Remington admitted as well, he has missed Cole even though it is his own fault for the distance between them.

Cole slowly leaned closer to Remington admiring him even closer. His hand slowly slid down and rested on the side of Remington’s face.

Remington’s eyes were sharply watching Cole as Cole continued to lean closer and closer to him until their noses brushed against each other.

Remington sharply inhaled as Cole went to lean forward so their lips could touch when the door of the patio slammed open making the two spilt apart quickly.

Remington quickly got off the couch turning away from Cole rubbing a hand over his face, he couldn’t believe he let himself get that close to Cole, again. He shook his head cursing himself, he needed to talk to Luke.

“My favorite boys!” A drunk Trevor yelled loudly as he stumbled onto the patio not knowing he had interrupted Cole and Remington again.

Cole didn’t even turn his head at Trevor to focused on Remington, Cole cursed himself for getting too close to Remington again and making him uncomfortable.

“I’ve got to call Luke.” Remington stammered out hurrying off the patio brushing past Cole and a drunk Trevor.

Cole opened and closed his mouth watching Remington rush off, Cole frowned seeing Remington walk away from him again.

“Where’s he going?” Trevor drunkly slurred plopping down next to Cole. His head flopping onto Cole’s shoulder

“I don’t know.” Cole mumbled distracted, he hoped that he hasn’t ruined his friendship with Remington and that Remington was okay. He can’t believe he almost kissed Remington again.

[gothicmama]

"The Hunt" Bagginshield ABO (Rough Draft)

I posted a little snippet of this, the end of it, awhile back, and since then I've been fiddling with it constantly and I'm on the verge of rewriting all two thousand something words and start over. So, I'm posting it here first, hoping for some advice/criticism/reassurance on what I should do with it. Please, help (;

Bilbo had adjusted to the cultural shock of living with Dwarves relatively quickly. The months he’d spent on the quest with the company had helped him when it came to being the only Hobbit in a mountain of them. Everything was completely different from what he was used to, from the food to the clothing, to the weather itself. Some of that had been expected and easily managed. He ate meals with everyone else plus the extra four he was used to, with whoever happened to be free at the moment keeping him company, so he didn’t eat alone. He’d even added some Hobbitish dishes to menus all over the mountain. The same was said for clothing, his closet was full of Hobbit style clothing that were decorated with the floral designs Hobbits preferred, alongside or combined with the traditional geometric patterns Dwarves favored. Dori and Nori had taken on the challenge of making his whole wardrobe and they’d outdone themselves. Several of the tailors and shops in the marketplace now offered similar items themselves. And the weather had simply been solved by finally giving in and admitting that his bare feet needed something during the winter months, especially if he wanted to go outside. As such he now had a drawerful of thick socks, also made by both Dori and Nori, that were just as decorated as the rest of his clothing.

But the one thing he was still struggling to adjust to was how different they were when it came to their secondary genders. For Hobbits, there were expectations and responsibilities for each. Alphas were expected to be the head of the family and do the more dangerous things, like being Bounders. Omegas were expected to be pregnant as often as possible, as long as it was safe to be so, and Betas were expected to fill in any gaps and be whatever was needed in whatever relationship they were in.

Despite that Hobbits were all mostly similar in certain ways regardless of whether they were Alpha, Beta, or Omega. They were, as a people, generally gentle and kind-hearted folk. Suspicious of the outside world, with good reason, and with few exceptions, they were all content to live in their smials, throw parties for any an all reasons, and drink and eat to their hearts’, and stomachs’, content. They spent their heats and ruts either at home alone or with their mates, and it was highly expected to choose a mate and marry them as young as possible. For the majority of Hobbits, regardless of their gender, they only ever touched or were touched by one person and that was the person they chose to be their mate.

Dwarves on the other hand were completely different. They drew clear lines between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, while simultaneously treating them all equally. Unlike Hobbits, Omegas weren’t expected to have children. He knew and had met several Omegas who had dedicated their lives to their crafts instead of relationships or were in a relationship and simply didn’t want children. Also, Omegas weren’t looked at differently or whispered about for doing dangerous work. Neither were Alphas sneered at for doing what would be considered delicate work, such as embroidering or knitting. No, for Dwarves, they wore their genders proudly in their braids, but it made no difference to how they were treated by others.

And for Bilbo, a Hobbit who had for many years been the local oddity due to being an unmated Omega who was head of his family and the family business, it was both a pleasant and a jarring change.

He’d thought he’d grown used to the way things were, he’d even started letting Fili and Kili put an Omega braid in his hair. Something that still seemed to unsettle Thorin, so much so that for the first few times he had quickly excused himself before running from the room. Bilbo had yet to get an explanation for that, so he’d simply chalked it up to some Dwarf thing he didn’t know about. And then, he’d found out about the Hunt.

“I’m sorry, could you explain it to me again please?” Bilbo was sure he’d heard Balin wrong. There was no way Dwarves actually did that.

Balin chuckled and looked up from the scroll he was writing on. “Any unmated Alphas, Betas, and Omegas may participate in the Hunt. It’s two weeks of eating, sleeping, and preparing. It is called the Hunt because at the end of the two weeks, some are hunted, while the others are the hunters.”

Bilbo swallowed heavily before he hesitantly asked, “Hunted for what?”

Balin set down the scroll completely and looked at the Hobbit over his glasses. His eyes stared into Bilbo’s as he answered, “For mating.”

“Mating?” Bilbo squeaked out. His face was already burning but his curiosity was stronger than his embarrassment. He knew what mating was, understood it on a purely physical, educational level, but he’d never experienced it. And even if he had, Hobbits didn’t do anything like what Balin was describing.

“Yes. On the final night, the hunted run, and the hunters chase, and almost everyone finds a mate, if not more than one,” Balin explained. “It is a night for us to give in to our primal urges, to experience a heat or rut in a different way.”

“Isn’t that, well, dangerous?” Bilbo asked. The thought of alphas and omegas running loose, lost in their heats and ruts, sounded terrifying to him.

“It can be, yes,” Balin agreed. “But even in our most primal, animalistic states, we are not cruel or vicious. Fighting is to be expected, but most know when they’re beaten and will yield. Likewise, most know when they’ve won, and they’ll let the loser go. It’s not unheard of for people to die, for fights to get out of control or for someone to take it too far, but it is uncommon.”

“I see. But, what if you,” Bilbo paused to think over his words. “What if someone is interested in another, but they aren’t interested in return?”

“It’s even rarer for forced mating to happen, but it has happened in the past,” Balin regretfully admitted. “It’s a risk one takes to be a part of the hunt. But most are more interested in finding willing partners than wasting time and energy forcing themselves on another.”

Unsure of how to respond to his reassurance, Bilbo simply nodded. Balin smiled kindly at him and explained, “There are risks, yes, but that is why it is optional. It is for those who are without mates, who wish to have a little fun. Everyone gets to show off in the days leading up to the hunt, by decorating themselves with paint and jewels or showing off their prowess in fights. And on the final night, they run wild and free in ways that they don’t usually get to experience. Though, some do go into it with other motivations.”

Bilbo leaned back in his chair, his head swimming. This took culture shock to an entirely new level. He cleared his throat several times and fiddled with the buttons on his waistcoat, before he stammered, “Other motivations?”

“Oh yes.” Ignoring the worrying expression on Bilbo’s face, Balin got comfortable and leaned back in his chair. “Some who enter are looking for a mate, and they will have their token with them. It’s an unspoken rule that tokens are not to be touched, stolen, or damaged in any way. Even in our most primal of states, that’s instinctual. If someone finds another that they like they may present the token to them. In the heat of the moment, it’s easy to get lost in the intense feelings and lose track of people, especially if you have multiple partners during the night.”

Bilbo’s head spun again just from that sentence. Multiple partners? He wasn’t touching that right then, probably never would because it didn’t concern him. He shook his head slightly and tuned back into Balin’s explanation. “The tokens make it easier for people to find their chosen afterwards. Assuming of course their chosen accepts. Rejecting a token is allowed, and encouraged if the feelings aren’t mutual.”

“I see,” Bilbo replied faintly. He clasped his hands on the desk in front of him to stop them from fidgeting. “You said motivations, plural. What else is there?”

“Children.” Balin chuckled when Bilbo gasped in shock, his eyes bulging. “There are some who wish to have children, without having to go through the trouble of finding a suitable donor or partner. They simply wish to mate with as many people as possible to give them the best chance of being impregnated. Or they only wish to mate with someone they find acceptable, such as the strongest hunter of the group, to ensure their child is also strong.”

“That makes sense.” That was all Bilbo could say through his disbelief. That was entirely unheard of among Hobbits. If someone had children, it was because they were mated and married and had usually planned them. No one just had children on their own, with the rare exception of an Omega who’d been widowed during pregnancy. But even then, they would often take another mate to help with raising the child, they didn’t do it all on their own. Bilbo cleared his throat and offered an apologetic smile. “Forgive me for my surprise, please. This is very different from how we Hobbits do it.”

“Oh, no worries, laddie, I thought as much.” Balin waved away his apology with his hand. “I don’t think anyone else but us Dwarves do it, not the men nor the elves. It’s why we don’t talk about it much.”

“Ah, yes, one of your many secrets.” They both chuckled at Bilbo’s teasing, then he turned serious again. Now that his mind was working through this new information, the surprise and embarrassment were completely replaced by his curiosity. Questions were popping into his head fast, but one stuck out amongst the lot. “How do you ensure children occur? After all, if the Hunt is a once a year, scheduled event, most of the participants won’t be in heat or rut when it occurs.”

Balin winked at Bilbo and gave him a smirk. “We’re back to the secrets again, laddie. We’re not as good as Hobbits when it comes to gardens and vegetables, but our healers know their herbs. Part of the Hunt is taking the right ones. Everyone eats or drinks, whichever they prefer, an herb that sends them into heat or rut. For Betas, they’re given something different that simulates whichever they choose.”

Balin entwined his fingers over his beard as he continued, “Everyone who enters is given just enough herbs based on their size and how fast they burn through medicines. No one is given too much, and what they are given is given in small amounts over the course of the two weeks, so it builds in their systems, and they have time to adjust. This also gives them a chance to change their mind or for them to see a healer if something does go wrong.”

“That’s why the preparation is so long,” Bilbo assumed. It made perfect sense to him, and it sounded as though the Dwarves had it planned out perfectly. The thought of the Hunt, while still jarring to him as a Hobbit, sounded less like a uncontrollable thing where people went crazy and did awful things to each other, and more like a large, planned party where everyone was there to go wild and have fun together. As a Hobbit who loved parties, he appreciated the logistics that went into this. And as an Omega who’d never so much as been kissed, the thought of having this chance to see what he’d been missing without fear of hurt feelings, or an arranged marriage, was beginning to sound appealing.

Bilbo shoved that thought away. He absolutely wasn’t going to do it, no matter what fantasies went on in his own head. He cleared his throat and continued with his questions. His purely academic questions. “For those who don’t want children?”

“Preventative herbs are available before and after the hunt, and we’ve worked out many options that are safe to take with the stimulant herbs,” Balin replied matter-of-factly.

Bilbo nodded slowly, taking a moment of silence to process all the information he’d just been given. When he felt like he had a good handle on everything, he smiled at Balin. “It certainly sounds like you all know what you’re doing. When will the Hunt take place, then?”

Balin tapped his chin thoughtfully before answering him. “We’ve been preparing for it for weeks now, but now that Thorin is completely healed and it’s safe for him to participate, we can finish the last few things up. It should only take another two weeks before we can get started.”

The Hobbit froze and for the second time in just five minutes he was sure he’d heard incorrectly. “Thorin? He’s going to?”

“Oh, yes, laddie, as an unmated king, it’s one of his responsibilities.” Balin barely held back a laugh at Bilbo’s surprised expression. “It is in the hopes that he might meet someone, but also to prove his raw prowess and strength against other Alphas. That’s why it’s only for unmated kings unless they wish to do the Hunt together as a couple. Most don’t though, there’s always the chance that things can go wrong in such a situation.”

“I understand that, yes.” Bilbo swallowed. He hid his hands under the desk and nervously wrung them together. “So, he will for sure be a hunter, as you called it?”

“Oh yes. We use the terms hunter and hunted, because those terms are not used solely for Alphas and Omegas respectively, but yes, Thorin, as an Alpha, will be a hunter.” Balin’s eyes twinkled over his glasses as he suddenly asked, “Will you be joining the Hunt, too, Bilbo?”

“Yes.” The answer popped out before Bilbo could even think about it.

[barbex]

Writer Game

Look what I found in my drafts!

@celemee tagged me for this, thank you! It looks short and fun, so I'm inflicting it on everybody. Tagging: @sulky-valkyrie, @effelants, @tobythewise, @andrastesknickerweasel, @mordinette, @zet-sway​, @roguelioness, @potatowitch, @for-the-ninth, @anneapocalypse, @rakshadow, @contreparry, @highwayphantoms, and everybody else who wants to!

Do you write in order? Yes. I'm a discovery writer. I write the story as it appears in the headlights of my very slow car.

Do you start with something in particular? I wish I had a system. Really, it would help so much! I often start with dialogue, but then I also like starting mid blowjob scene.

How fully formed does your writing come out on the first try? Clean draft. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Okay, listen. I write, I go back, I rewrite, I fiddle here and there, I rethink, I change everything, I write again, I rewrite, I fiddle... I'm doing everything they tell you not to do. What comes out after all that is a fairly clean chapter I'll throw into the world without a second look.

How many drafts do you go through? One. I mean, it's an unholy creation of my chaotic thought process and changes form like a shapeshifter while it grows, but in the end, at least for fanfic, it's one draft and out to AO3 it goes.

I'm terrified of having to change this process for the novel I'm writing.

Tell me about your process? Gods, I wish I had one. I think it has become clear by now that I'm just diving into the story and keep throwing it all on the page. If it looks right, it stays.

This process requires for me:

Quiet time

Tea

A little bit of life, like someone else also working nearby

Wrist protector

A good and/or pretty keyboard

I'm not even kidding, look at this pretty thing:

Thanks for reading!

[ahordeofwasps]

Find the Word Tag

I've been tagged by the awesome @kaylinalexanderbooks! Thanks for the tag! My words are depress, favour, entertain, and attract. I'll be sharing excerpts from Crying Wolf.

But first, the no pressure tags! I'll be tagging @tabswrites, @revenantlore, @winterandwords, @loopyhoopywrites, and open tag! Your words are dangle, danger, doom, and dear!

Now, onto Crying Wolf!

Depress

Not found! In this draft at least! But it's in an old draft! Here are some dead words!

It was quite depressing. Ciro would have remarked this if Bob hadn’t ranted about it first. Every time they travelled to the trading post to get the supplies for the day, Bob would begin ranting about the state of Screaming Rabbits. “Damn fools think a mono-resource economy is sustainable,” he would often grumble, “Need to look at themselves in the Grav-damn mirror… and do something about it!” before going on to rant about the failings of not only the previous governor, but the governor that came before him. The rant would always end with “Now they don’t have any choice but to vote for me! I am the only candidate! I’ll change things ‘round here! It’ll be great, you’ll see!”

Favour

Jack spent the next several minutes charging until the words changed again. During that time, Smas decided to showcase their favourite musical pieces. The songs were a few minutes each and they were nothing like anything Jack had ever heard before. Drums, horns, flutes, guitars, and instruments he couldn’t name played alongside each other while human voices sung songs about love, death, and other vexing issues. It was a treat when a minstrel made their way to Screaming Rabbits, but these songs put them all to shame. Dæmon or not, Smas had more to offer than the world ever did.

Entertain

It had only been his second night, but Ogwut would move on soon. Normally, he would try to stay in one place for at least a week, but Screaming Rabbits didn’t agree with him. He could blame it on the sour atmosphere – the recent pair of deaths were enough to dampen any spirit, but that would be a lie. He had spent much time entertaining platoons on the battlefronts between Rusthower and Humford; although the bloodshed bothered him, it had never caused him any issues.

Attract

He sighed and bent over his own tent, resuming the process of putting it up. He tried to work quickly, tried to finish setting the tent up before the Sun set and left him with nothing but the light of the Moon and stars and other nameless things. But Wotan found himself stopping often. Sometimes it was to wipe the tears away, other times he just stopped and stared at the half-erected tent, desperately trying to will his hands to move, to keep working. He didn’t know how long he had been fiddling with the tent. It was long enough for him to attract notice from the others. “Do you need help?” Ogwut asked. Wotan jumped at the sound of his voice, dropping the tent post. He didn’t hear Ogwut approach, nor notice the large shadow that loomed over him. “Yes, he does,” Daisy said, answering for him. Wotan turned his head to see both Ogwut and Daisy standing behind him. Ogwut’s face was contorted into a concerned frown. Daisy stared at Wotan with her arms crossed, her brown eyes puffy and red. Like him, she had also been crying.

Crying Wolf Taglist: @sarandipitywrites, @tabswrites

[ramblingoak]

For the dare game ☺️

🌵, 🍄, 🦷

Thank youuuu for sending some in 💙

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

This Dark Synthwave playlist is one of my favorites! Actually will have this on while writing a lot.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Personal wisdom would just be that it's ok to be weird. Don't let what other people think of you make you change who you are. Find better people to be around if anyone makes you feel bad for being yourself.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I'm going to be horrible and just share a snippet from the next fic in the steampunk verse (very rough first draft, sfw):

Copia was hanging out of a clock on the third floor when Secondo finally tracked him down.

“Was there something wrong with this one?”  Secondo immediately felt bad, it was obvious his booming voice startled the small boy.  He fell backwards onto the floor of the hallway with a small yelp and stared up at him with wide eyes.  When he didn’t answer, Secondo cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow.  “Well?”

“No?”

“You don’t seem sure.”  He took a few steps forward and looked inside of the open clock face.  It was practically empty inside so clearly it hadn’t been working for sometime.  “Scavenging for parts?”

“No!” 

Secondo had to bite his lip to keep from smiling.  That attitude was pure Emeritus. 

“Do you know any other words?”  With a huff the boy crossed his small arms over his chest, refusing to meet Secondo’s eyes.  “How many other clocks have you taken apart?”

“Three.” 

“And what are these parts for?”  When the boy shrugged, Secondo knelt down, getting a closer look at the small piles of metal scattered around.  It was obvious the boy was looking for something.  “If you tell me what you’re trying to do, maybe I can help.”

“Aldo was having trouble with the stairs.”

“And Aldo is…?”

“My rat.” 

“Ah yes, of course.”  Copia had uncrossed his arms and started to fiddle with the gears he still had in his hands.  Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, like his hands needed to be busy at all times.  “Why don’t you take me to Aldo and I’ll see if I have any ideas, eh?”

“Are you good with machines?”

“Si, very good.”  Secondo held out a hand, stifling another laugh when Copia dumped the gears he had been playing with in it.  “I’ve even built my own airship.”

“Really?!”

“Really.  Maybe if we sort Aldo out I’ll take you to see it.”

[mommalosthermind]

Hey Book Mom, do you have anything you use to organize your thoughts for writing and plot?

I am deeply disorganized, tbh, and this will be similarly chaotic. But! I use scrivener, and I think I’ve finally managed to get my files under control in a way that’s sustainable for me, which I am going to ramble about now, because I can. Step one is pretty easy in that everything needs to have its own place, or I’m going to end up with a disaster on my hands. (Again.) So! I went through and neatened things up, and now my stuff looks like this at first glance:

We’re doing to ignore the BKDK omegaverse file because there are over 20k words in there and I did NOT organize it properly and now I don’t even know where to begin trying to untangle the fifteen or so ideas all tangled up in there like a yarn-bin that’s been attacked by a litter of kittens. Ship name at the beginning of every doc means I don’t forget what the hell was in there but also puts all the same ships near each other, and this makes me very pleased. Is this obviously a thing I should’ve been doing from the beginning? Yeah probably. Did I have a bunch of things titled with random words or keysmashes instead? Yes again. Does that nifty list of fics go on for a while? Also yes.

I’ve got a file(project) per ship/character I want to write for, and within that document, I tend to have at least one file that’s just a numbered list of ideas. Those are usually a paragraph or stream of consciousness style plot over view—just really quick braindump because otherwise I’ll lose the idea. Stories that have more than that right off the bat are given their own file within the binder for that project. Then I can pull from the files list within that doc when I want to work on something that’s got a decent head start, or pull from one of the numbered ideas if I want to start something brand new.

Since that sounds messy AF, it looks like this:

There are i think 38? Ideas in the numbered list for this one, plus the binder files here, which I had enough in my head at the time of writing to flesh out a decent amount past that initial paragraph. Things that I’m fiddling with or that have a *lot* of substance get their own project file, because I don’t edit, I rewrite. And then rewrite fifty million more times. For big projects, each chapter gets its own file, but for things that don’t necessarily have chapters, I end up with a file per draft, plus a place for the stuff I cut. I try to keep a place where I leave myself notes—things like “i want X to happen, but I have to go back and make Y happen for that to make sense” but since I tend to end up with multiple drafts, a large chunk of those notes end up at the bottom of the draft I’m working on. I do timelines, tracking characters… Scrivener has a nifty set up where I can change the icons, check things off, mark it as ‘to-do, revised’ and whatnot, which helps keep me on track because I *will* forget what I was doing and where I was going, and I don’t want to accidentally publish something that’s got something like (and then they fucking KISS you goddamn idiot HOW do we make them DO THAT) tucked away somewhere. There’s a monster Sterek fic I’ve been working on erratically for years, which looks like this:

Chapter breakdowns is exactly what is says, a breakdown of what I want to have happen in each chapter. New chapters is where I’ve got stuff I haven’t written yet. There’s also a timeline, character sheets, images, floor plans, and ‘the original idea was knock-off beauty and the beast that got away from me’ notes. …One day I will finish that. Laying it out like this helped me realize part of the problem I was having was this isn’t one single story, and helped figure out where the sequel would start, so I could focus on one! Goddamn! Thing! At a time! Anyway. The file I’m currently working on is a lot more simple:

Braindump is where I keep the original messy AF stream of consciousness idea for references. Outtakes is the cull file, and there’s enough in there apparently I decided I could cobble it into it’s own fic, so that’ll end up being put into the SSKK List when I’m done with this fic. Rough is the first attempt at a draft, the italicized one is a scene I was struggling with that I wrote from a different POV, and is where I’ve been essentially talking to myself to pin down details that aren’t currently being written, and current is… the current draft. I am very good at naming things. Within the current draft, I’ve got about 18k of actual story, and a fluctuating amount of scraps at the bottom. Since this is draft two, my scraps are bits from draft one that I’m fiddling with/attempting to improve (there’s three versions of the same conversation, for example, because I was trying to figure out what about it wasn’t settling correctly and now that I’ve figured it out I can shift the ones I’m not using to the cull file) with a bulleted list of things I want to hit (emotions, movements, etc) that will help with the flow of the scene I’m working on. So the bottom of my current wip tends to look a lot like: _You were going to do Thing when you opened this again! _This is what’s annoying me about this scene, take a look at it and see if it’s still annoying or if I was just cranky _stream of consciousness on how the scene is meant to look _thought about how to transition to next scene _entire section taken from draft one because it’s either being actively worked on or will be soon _Remember!! This!! Detail!!

This is a massively unnecessary response when the correct answer was probably “scrivener and so many files. So many goddamn files,” but eh. I’m procrastinating writing. 🤣

[bvannn]

Weekly Update July 5, 2024

I’m very sleepy because I was kept up with fireworks and then woke up in the middle of the night from nightmare. Still in a good mood because I found the dumpster guitar though. I tried to work on bigger projects between Artfight attacks, but I do want to try to finish off a few more this weekend. But tonight I’ll probably sleep early. Probably.

Artfight is going well, I have around 9 more attacks sketched that need to get digitized, I’m going to try pixel art again for some of them, since I do want to get good at it and I have slacked off for a while. Also got a couple comic panels outlined between attacks, because I thought they’d be quick. They weren’t but I’m going to keep going at it. Took another shot at comic writing as well, but no progress yet.

Other big thing I was messing with this week was music. As mentioned before I found a free guitar in the dumpster and I plan to make another push to learn it. I also fiddled with vocaloid again, and have effectively retuned OEB, just need to finish up harmonies which I’ll do once I’m home. Again I found out last week that I can speed up future pruning significantly with midi files, so I’ll try to record some if I’m getting art burnout this weekend. I also *tried* finishing up another instrumental ambient piece, but decided I didn’t like the piano and will be redoing it once I’m in the headspace. Big thing as far as music goes is I finished up a first draft of instrumentals for RR, which I’ll try to get vocals done alongside any other midi files I need to record, and get mixing done between Artfight attacks. I know I will at some point get that big inspiration hit for music and unload, but for now, I’m just kinda waiting and doing the easy stuff. Next steps will be finishing off the OEB vocals and mixing those in, finishing off RR, and probably redoing the instruments for BATB for the third time because I actually know what I’m doing now. That sounds bad but really it’s just a bunch of copy-paste and picking out instruments again. I really have been enjoying music, I just need to slog through my unfinished stuff before starting something new.

Really that’s it as far as this week. This month is going to be slow on projects due to Artfight, but that’s okay. I guess I just don’t have a lot to say. Tonight I’m going to try to get rest, probably going to change my mind but for now I’ll anticipate either going right to bed once I get home, or going and getting the dumpster guitar looked at and maybe getting the string fixed. If it’s not too expensive.

[elvenbeard]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you so much for the tag and reminder @kharonion! :D Gonna tag @pinkyjulien @humberg @chevvy-yates @theviridianbunny cause I haven't been keeping up with tumblr much lately and would love to know what you're all doing atm if you wanna share 👀

As always, I got way too much stuff at once I'm doing, and apartment hunting is awful and really robbing me of my motivation, so I'm doing a lot of low-brain-effort stuff that calms my nerves at the moment really. Let's see...

VP Stuff

Currently working my way through my "Vince through the years series" :D Two posts out (2067, 2069), one drafted and still needs some text, the others are still a work in progress XD While 2067 was a bit about Vince's home life, 2069 about his transition and time in Kabuki, 2071 is gonna have a focus on Jackie 👀

I should have it ready in a few days :3

Art Stuff

I actually had a little drive to draw something lately :DD working a bit on the comic I teased the other week, slowly chipping away at the lineart, but really enjoying it so far, even though my process is slow!

First page lineart done (for now xD I might go back and fiddle more with it). I am... very tempted to paint the background, but I think I will for once settle for the easy approach and fill in my backgrounds with modified screenshots for this. Cause why tf not xD If professional manga artists can do it, so can I for my silly fancomic!

Writing Stuff

I started chapter 8 of Love is Stored in the Olive Jar and I know it's gonna be a difficult one cause I've really been building up to it and now I got the "you gotta deliver now!!" anxiety XD But I'm still looking forward to finally getting to Mr. B's solution for V's Sun-Ending problem 👀

“So, she got any final words of wisdom?” Kerry asked, fingers gently drumming on the steering wheel. They had swapped cars at home, and with what Rogue had just said now V wondered if it might not have been better after all to use Kerry’s Aerondight to get here… But then again, if shit hit the fan in some way, he didn’t want any unnecessary negative attention drawn to Kerry. “Not really,” V shook his head, “Nothin’ I didn’t think of already at least.” “Told ya so,” Kerry shrugged, pulling out his cigarettes and only paused when he noticed V’s stern stare. “Ah, fuck,” he mumbled and then got out of the car. They had not only swapped cars but changed clothes quickly while they were home. As he slipped from the driver’s seat, Kerry’s wide black bomber jacket rode up briefly, revealing the gun kept in the waistband of his cargopants. “You shouldn’t do that,” V said as he got out himself, “Posers in action films keep their gun in their pants. In the real world that’s gonna get you shot in the ass faster than you think.” V closed the passenger side door with his elbow, flinching slightly at the pain shooting through his shoulder and chest. He took a deep breath, adjusted his own gun holster worn snugly under his coat. “Fiiine,” Kerry sighed, lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, and he put the gun into his jacket’s pockets. Not ideal still, but better. V smiled at him, and then slowly turned to look down the short, narrow side street they were parked in. They were close to the Santo Domingo district border, in the middle of the industrial area at the edges of the city. The location coordinates Mr. B had sent him lay not far ahead. A new, sleek white building, V guessed it around ten stories tall, rose at the center of what he remembered to be factory grounds formerly. It was far from imposing, a little bit lost on the large lot even, but it blended in well with the surrounding corpo complexes. The entire compound was fenced in, V spotted cameras and security turrets near the heavily secured entrance gate. No security staff though, not even mechs or drones, much to his surprise, at least not visibly out in the open.

Modding Stuff

I have a handful of things on the backburner... A very silly t-shirt (the replacer works already, but I wanna make it Archive XL!), band merch, and my custom hand holding poses... but with my anxiety-riddled brain wolvenkit is a bit too daunting at the moment, but I'm really looking forward to continuing all these projects :3

[candycryptids]

Ayoooo, I'm back to be a pain AGAIN! This time I really, really, really want to know more about... duh, Chuu! But also a little about Tuesday, as well. This idea is just so COOL and I need to know more.

So! How long did it take Chuu to finish building Tuesday? I know it says he's been 'finished' for around 6 months to a 1 year but I imagine the process must have taken Chuu forever! And how in the heck did she learn to make an entire being from scratch and give it the capabilities to understand/learn emotions and what not?

My curiosity is insane and I'm going to stop before my "one question" keeps turning into a billion more. :)))

Ok so we’re gonna start with the first question, and then the second answer ends up being a huge timeline-lore dump, so, uh, brace for impact?

It took Chuu 10~ish years of development to get Tuesday to a 1.0 state, starting from drafted prototypes on paper to Built.

She wanted an assistant after going MIA from Garlemald [if you ask her, she’ll say she quit; she just only left an audio clip at her station that said GoodBye :)] because going from having people to run around and do grunt work to, doing everything herself forever…. Sucked.

Learning to Build Tuesday as a whole took her first visit to Ul’Dah, where she was first properly exposed to Mammets in the Goldsmithing guild. Delicate, small robots with full on Hearts. Personalities. MEMORIES! Opinions! Instead of Ceruleum, like Magitek, they ran off Aether. It’s fascinating- it’s not a weapon, it’s different, and confusing as hell. Chuu sticks her nose into their business and learns as much as she can about, how Mammets even function, how they’re put together, until the Gil she had starts to run low, and the Flames start questioning why there’s a Viera here with shocking similarities to one of the head engineers from Garlemald, and she dips again. To Limsa, where she meets the then-Warrior Of Light Keathan. Their extensive knowledge in Aetherology sets Chuu briefly into learning Arcanist magic (hence… part of the origin for her obsession with Carbuncles)

Together they draft further still prototypes on paper, utilizing Keathan’s extensive knowledge on the Body- and the affects Aether has on it, and the reverse (a body’s affect on aether). (it is, in fact, what their Archon Mark is for; BioAetherologist is the word we’re settling on uvu;) to make some pretty Huge Headway….

Something Chuu coins as ‘Mammetek’; a marriage between Magitek and Mammets that would be able to Talk, Walk, Carry, Gather Materials as well as Analyze them for Quality and Usability. A slimmer silhouette than her previous designs, a Mammet heart, a Magitek’s dependable, durable framework, but no need to make room from Ceruleum Tanks, or Emissions. While this Assistant would likely still need coolant, heat sinks, vents… it would still be possible that, to the layman’s eye, it would appear as any other Person, given enough fiddling.

Until the 7th Umbral Calamity occured, and Louisoix’s magic wipes from all the memory of The Warriors Of Light….. and Chuu and Keathan both wind up with gaping holes into the memory. Keathan with terrible active recall, and Chuu with no recollection of the Project they’d been working on together for all this time. Aimless and restless, she drifts away from Limsa and settles Temporarily in Kugane, with its more neutral stances. This is about when she falls in with her current shady Free Company, lmfao. [Which I’ll say, has lore, but I don’t know it, cos our rp scene is, shall we say, a tumbleweed, at best.]

While she’s moving in more fully to their base of operations, about a year after the Calamity, she dredges up notes and prototypes for something that she can’t remember having drafted in the first place. There’s numerous notes on something called a ‘Mammet’ though, which sends her back to Ul’Dah, much to her consternation, but it was the best and only place to learn more.

She happens to meet Keathan again- though the two are mostly struggling with a sense of Deja Vu at first, trying to place where they know each other- they eventually work it out, though perhaps the middle of the market street wasn’t the best place to discover this…

Regardless, the project ends up in full swing again, with Keathan making occasional contributions when not otherwise occupied (though Chuu did probably throw them off their intended task a number of times)

Tuesday [1.0.0] isn’t operational mid-ARR, and he’s not allowed out of the workshop at all. No legs. No face. No hands. But he has a voice, and he has crude mitten-like graspers, and Keathan spent quite a bit of time conversing with him while Chuu refined code and worked on the frame. Originally he was more like a dating sim- predefined responses to partially defined questions and phrases. But it was…. Vast. Training a learning module was easier; let the Mammetek utilize stored memory, and let it build on recalled conversations to generate its own responses based on those. It gets more complicated than that rather quickly but it was more forgiving a module than trying to code for every conceivable combination of words. *please understand my knowledge of computers and programming is rudimentary at best, I’m leaning rather heavily on Fantasy Handwaving

Tuesday’s first proper forray with a body includes mitten hands and a blobby-somewhat suspect-tonberry head, mailed in pieces to Ishgard once Chuu finally got word where Keathan and the Wayward Fugitives had ended up. This is Tuesday [1.2.45]; The startup takes quite a large amount of Aether- so it’s really fortunate Keathan has just that ;)

And Keathan continues to [treat them like a person] and not a Machine! So do most other Ishgardians, actually. He’s Keathan’s attentive, if a little eccentric, assistant and bodyguard. By the end of Heavensward- following a [major incident] with Nidhogg, he’s on 1.3.49. A furious Chuu had to build him a new leg, and made some alterations to his software in the hopes she could head off some of his ‘riskier’ plans (partially at Keathan’s request).

Working as a group in Azys La with Gerolt gets us to Tuesday [2.5.58]; new body, working individual fingers, a lovingly crafted and life-like Faceplate (thanks Keathan 💖) and, more importantly, an enhanced Mammet heart that could better Sustain itself and didn’t need to tether with Keathan to remain operational all the time. Allagan tech also aids in creating a durable self-healing bio-skin, so he gets to wear… like… real clothes. Not just a full coverage padding-insulating armor-body, but. Like. CLOTHES.

Tuesday [3.6.60] comes about post-ish Shadowbringers, when she gets her hands on YorHa technology to take apart and refine and study…. Through curious means. [Tuesday’s Soul] was called there, having residual ties to Keathan, so much of her work comes from second-hand sources until she figures out how to get there on her own power. Don’t tell Shtola.

I imagine he’ll face another updated body and hardware/software to 4.6.49 in Post Endwalkers, working in tandem with Thavnairian Alchemists who designed Varshaun’s vessels. She comes a long way by that point on being closed off and insular, more willing to… care about other people, lmfao, and a course in the Studium about Memory gives Keathan some ideas to work on with Chuu and Tue about upgrading his memory- store it as Aether, and not just as hard copies of ‘deemed important’ or ‘requested’ video and audio and training data. (So basically…. He gets pumped with way more aether and it gives him a proper unique Personality, by about EW, lmfao. Outside of just Formed Opinions and Programmed Quirks, which are the basis of things… it’s a minor but important change I think)

…. Which is to say; how did she learn to give Tuesday Personality? Technically, she didn’t! It was more Keathan’s influence and fingerprints that led to Tuesday having as Developed a sense of self as he does, with Chuu working to accommodate his growing Self while also stubbornly refusing to let him be completely self-governed. He knows entirely too much to be allowed to act completely on his own, you see.

Additional silly fact as a thank you for reading this much; anytime he has a full face and hands and ears and all during Heavensward screenshots it’s because I struggled immensely with knowing I had to obliterate all expression and nuance by slapping a tonberry head and gloves on. So I let him have his face (which I worked QUITE HARD ON, THANKYOU) And hands, because I really like hands as part of a communicative medium. :T

Also, his hair used to be white-ish and green, like Chuu’s, but following HW he asks to be Blue instead of Green- not only to match the color of his tech but also to match the hair of the person he has strong emotions tied up with (Haurchefant, who is provide links for relevant posts but there are a Good Many).

(You might notice in many images their hair isn’t even actually a pure white, but a greenish yellow, this is because I kept going fucking blind with their Snow White hair so I shifted it a few shades into pale grey-green and I’ve enjoyed it much more lmfao.)

ALSO I HAVE SCREENSHOTS IF PROTOTYPES FROM CHUU’S JOURNAL- I struggled to figure out where to place them naturally and even considered doing some heavier editing to make it look like an actual journal schematic, but the payoff wasn’t enticing enough to pursue, so have these on their own; (they were taken using a variety of fiddly filters and a smidge of post-editing but I’m pretty sure it was just “some sorta sketch shader” and then fiddling with settings in gshade until it looked right)

Fuck I forgot to tag my HUSBAND @zombiesockfuckinglovescardfight who is Keathan @v@

[emilycollins00]

“My— it was probably a bad move I did, Tasuku-kun. As I said, nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Just sit and let me see, for Gods’ sake.”

Tasuku grabs Homare’s hand and makes a few motions, careful not to make the movements too quick. He sighs tiredly. “You know a wrist motion you do continuously can inflame the tissues around joints, right? You should try to use a computer like Minagi at least. I’m sure this is not the first time it’s hurt before a due date.”

With Tasuku already dabbing on antiseptic, Homare supposed he had no choice but to oblige.

“But how could I dare such thing! I’ll have you know it is imperative I present my drafts by hand so that I can fiddle with sonnets and rhythms without intermission, Tasuku-kun. Many of you might be unaware, but for us artists words are dictated by a gentle voice outside of ourselves. We fall under a spell— and become the conduit of forces beyond our power and control.”

Tasuku listens and chooses to make no comments, keeping his eyes on his work instead. The bulked actor twists the fabric up and around, layering it over with precision and an uncommon extra attentiveness that even Homare notices. Once he reaches the end of the wrist, he pauses.

“The bandages,” he nods, murmuring towards the hand, “are they too tight?”

Homare hums, then rotates his hand and gives a little shake. They stay in silence as he watches the winter actor now trying to finish tying the bandage. “…How very interesting indeed.”

Tasuku raises an eyebrow, his voice a slight tone of exasperation. “What now.”

“You are much gentler than I thought.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you took care of yourself, you know.” And yet despite his manner of speaking – brusque and curt like usual - he doesn’t lose hold of Homare’s hand. The poet notices this. Notices Tasuku could have let go by now, but keeps nagging at him about buying a splint, or at least call him for help whenever it started hurting again, all while tracing unconscious pressure on his wrist to alleviate the pain - as though he cared.

As if he was touching something precious to him.

Well, Tasuku has indeed always been a man of actions rather than words – completely opposite to Homare. “Are you even listening to me?”

Homare’s red eyes encounter a purple glaze staring right at him. Being taken care of still felt strange. He nods.

“Ah, but of course! I shall buy the wrist splint you mention. I was merely thinking about those angry wrinkles on your forehead.”

“What?”

“See? There they are again,” with his free hand, Homare’s thumb traces a vertical line in between Tasuku’s eyebrows, trying to erase them. “You frown too much, Tasuku-kun.”

“That’s because the lot of you drive me insane daily.”

He doesn’t retreat or shake his head to stop what’s going on. In fact, Tasuku’s whole body seems to melt at Homare’s brief touch. It makes his eyes soften, despite such a response. Homare laughs.

Both of them have yet to let go of the other’s hold.

________________________________________________________

Adding this beautiful drawing of the last scene courtesy of my talented and lovely friend @usuallyangrypanda 💕 It captures the emotions so well I think it's mandatory for me to put it here asdfghj thank you my love!