#all the things i have in-progress seem like they'd take a long time to finish

[nostalgia-tblr]

i just want to write some kind of fucked up shit and then finish it and post it and then feel i've done something😭

[pyromainiacc]

In Defense of Magnificus

A very very long rant by me. Originally from a rant I posted in a discord server in 2022, modified to be a little more concise. I have to apologize if some of this stuff is incredibly outdated, I haven't really bothered to catch up with newer stuff about the game outside of the game itself yknow... Like twitch streams from the dev and such.

I saw a theory that Magnificus was originally intended to be the villain of the original, in lore Inscryption, but through the rush of making the game as a coverup and developers like Kaycee not making much progress on the development because of said rush, he didn't get finished. And I think if you really analyze his character, everything about him FEELS unfinished.

His character design is super simple compared to the other scrybes. His deck is weak; there are not a lot of hard hitting cards aside from the Stim Mage, and the Magiks system itself feels wonky, as if they didn't have enough time to balance it out. His tower feels empty (Specially that damned bathroom. It haunts me.) His letter stops before its completed, he suddenly disappears mid-sentence... He's the only scrybe to not get a proper 3D version, as the game was mostly deleted by the time we got to him in Act 4, and he might've been the only scrybe that never became hegemon. We don't get to finish his battle, and he doesn't even get a handshake.

And going back to originally being a villain? Maybe that's why he was made to be so cruel to his pupils. P03 is also mean to his subordinates, but they're robots, they're not mean to gain as much sympathy from the player. Meanwhile, Magnificus is established to be mean and perhaps downright evil by the dialogue we get through Act 2. Rebecha speaks about him by saying he's mysterious, stating "Some say he wants... No, it's too terrible to say." But we never know what that refers to, and if it's coded dialogue or her own speech.

Outside of the CODED IN lore behind his pupils suffering, we don't see him being evil AT ALL. In Act 1 he is practically our savior; his throughout preparing was able to get us the film roll, and if we take too long he sends the player VISIONS to guide us in the right way. In Act 2 he attempts to warn the player about P03, his paint leads around to secrets to clue in about the OLD_DATA as well as perhaps serving as warnings for it. At the end of the game he is the only one who is distraught about everything being deleted; Grimora and Leshy accept their deaths, but Magnificus REFUSES to.

But wouldn't a villain rejoice about people dying? About, in his own words, an entire world being destroyed? It's like the original plan for his villainy was there, but he doesn't WANT to be one.

Now as to why he seems to continue to treat his pupils badly. I think it's just.. guilt. I believe he didn't have a choice in making them suffer, they were all just coded into what we know of Act 2. They were all created with the pupils being in torturous states and the game code telling them "It's Magnificus' fault". I think he himself believes this. I believe he could have tried to fix it before. But the thing is that, even if he ever did fix it, if he stopped their pain, it would all be for nothing... because the game resets. The only times it doesn't do this is when a scrybe takes over, which is something he has supposedly never been able to do. And if he were to help them outside of being hegemon they'd just go back to their original state once the new game card was used. I think he simply gave up upon realizing this and instead chose to bury his own grief that comes from it by playing into the character he was originally meant to be; the villain. That, and I think he just doesn't want to look at them... It hurts him to. I believe this is why he painted bleach over Goobert's painting.

I think him being originally an unfinished villain plays into him always being prepared. As I stated before, people often forget how helpful he is- it's due to his preparations that we are able to leave Act 1, he warns about The Great Transcendence in Act 2, warns Luke about the OLD_DATA, and warns him about the fate he'd encounter if he looked upon it. I think Magnificus wants to make up for his "villainy" by being the one the other scrybes and npcs can rely on in a time of need, so he spends every hour of everyday getting ready for the worst, and foreseeing what is gonna happen next.

Thing is that, he never stops anything from happening. He prepares a way out of Leshy's hegemony, but he can't stop it from happening in the first place. It's very probable that he was the one that planned how to stop P03 in Act 3, as we see he has been preparing since at least Act 2. But not only does the P03 hegemony happen, but he is ultimately unable to stop the Great Transcendence once it is in progress. Same thing for the game's deletion, which I believe it is at that point he truly panicked, because he couldn't foresee it or plan for it beforehand. It all feels like... An unfinished character arc. He never got to do anything he wanted.

I think he feels powerless.

Magnificus is often regarded as the worst scrybe. But in a sense, there's no real reason why that should be the case, at least not compared to the others. Like... Leshy took over the game and put the other scrybes into cards. He had good intentions, sure, but that doesn't mean his actions were good. Magnificus lost his eye, Grimora lost her memory, P03.... Was having a bad time...

Hell, the reason people hate Magnificus so much so often is because of the treatment of his pupils... But Leshy isn't all innocent there either. He puts Goobert in a bottle (At least, maybe he does. It's not clear whether it was him or Mags), which we know Goobert REALLY doesn't like, and he also put Goobert's description in the rulebook as "Failure". He also threw the bottle into the river as stated by himself in Kaycee's Mod.

P03... I don't gotta explain this one we know it is an asshole.

...And Grimora deleted the game, which basically killed everyone in it. While she had good intentions, it really only led to the discovery of the OLD_DATA and the subsequent assassination of Luke.

Now, what did Magnificus do? Nothing. Like... Really. He didn't GET to do anything. People dislike him because of his treatment of his pupils, but as I talked about before, I really don't think he can do anything about that, even if he wanted to.

So why do people so easily hate him? Circles back to the theory: Because he's unfinished. Everything about him is unfinished. The other scrybes are loved because we got to finish their arcs... We get to know why they each do what they did.

P03 not so much, but... P03 is a villain of sorts, people like villains and don't need them to be "good" to like them, which I agree with cuz villains are fun! P03 does have some sympathy points somewhere, though, which I'm not gonna go into here.

I'm gonna focus on Grimora and Leshy instead. Their farewells were perfect closure:

Grimora spoke about why she chose to delete the game, and we as the player come to understand her. It was right after her doing it in the first place, so we didn't even get to really build anger towards her. She talks about it being a necessary action- perhaps something we can agree with after knowing everything about the OLD_DATA. She laments not being able to play more with us, but she accepts her death and says goodbye.

Leshy talks about just.. wanting to play. That's all he wants, he just wanted to give us a good story. The original Inscryption is rushed and weird- Act 1, his hegemony, was his attempt to make it better and enjoyable (Which, considering it is the Act people love most, he succeeded.)

The player probably misses him by this point- playing cards with him feels somber, sad, and nostalgic. At this point we consider him a friend. And then he gets deleted after complementing our past deck, speaking about how much he enjoyed his time with us, and saying farewell. It's not something that leaves us with any possible anger towards him.

Magnificus though... He doesn't get that. We never get to talk to him properly, he never speaks about how he feels or why he does things. In Act 1 he spends most of the time in the clock, in Act 2 he gets cut off when trying to speak to us, Act 3 he only speaks a few sentences, and in Act 4..

His farewell is different than the other two. Leshy and Grimora accept their deaths... Magnificus doesn't. He doesn't talk about his feelings or justify his actions, because if you have been holding in your feelings, that is something you do when you can no longer do so. You let them go when you know you're going to die soon.

But he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to die, he can't accept it.

The game he played with us wasn't complete- the scales were gone, so we weren't even supposed to play against him. It was his opportunity to just say what he needed to say before he was gone, but he refused to accept his upcoming death. So instead he tried prolonging the process by using unrealistically high numbers instead of scales (The bigger the number, the longer the game will take, right..?). Even as he felt himself getting deleted he refused to end the game, or even talk to the player properly. For once, he couldn't prepare for the worst, and he was in denial- he was completely powerless and he didn't want to accept it. Instead, he speaks to us about the game deleting. He blames the player for it. He tries to guilt us; "You even allowed my goo mage to get deleted... I thought you two were becoming friends!"

And he doesn't get a handshake. He tried to push his deletion away for so long that he ended up not even being able to finish the match or get the same, proper farewell that Grimora and Leshy got.

I think by now I've said what I needed to say, but I wanna add that... Yeah, I think he's one of the most tragic characters in the game. I think he spends a lot of time being anxious- we don't get a clear answer on if he can see the future or if he is just able to predict it, but either way he lives with a lot of anxiety because of it.

I think the worst part is the deletion of the game and his farewell. He isn't able to let go because he's scared to, and because he has spent his whole life trying to prevent bad things from happening; trying to help his friends to get out of bad situations they caused themselves. But this time he's not able to, he can't do ANYTHING about it, and he's terrified because that means his whole existence and work is just... Gone. He spent all his days preparing for the worst scenarios, only for it all to be thrown away. He WASTED his life for nothing. And it hurts me that the fandom never saw that.

Or maybe I'm overthinking all of it. Maybe this has all already been directly disproven. But I still wanted to share this.

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet (or chapter?) Thursday

Viper: Exodus

Jak, now a captain in Spargus's infiltration division, has been gathering people who have helped them in the past, and Daxter has convinced whole sections of the slums to trust the Wastelanders over the Grand Council. (LONG post warning, it's basically a whole chapter)

240 people crowded around the narrow road in front of the Naughty Ottsel, murmuring nervously to each other. They had been slowly preparing for this night for weeks -- hardly enough time to uproot an entire life. But then, many of them had been uprooted already. Many carried young children, only recently reunited with their families after Praxis's mass kidnapping orders during his hunt for Mar. They varied between terrified silence and hungry wailing as the people waited for their chosen leader to arrive.

It had been a difficult, and at times acrimonious, task choosing someone to lead them once beyond the walls for good. Fifty people had withdrawn from the evacuation entirely when a Lurker was ultimately chosen. But Brutter had lived among the people of the Water Slums for years. They knew him. They trusted him.

His deputy, the blonde barmaid from the pub, seemed like an odd choice at first. But as preparations progressed, it became clear that Tess had a way with people -- and with weapons. Her confidence put them all at ease.

The murmurs quieted when Tess appeared with Brutter, Jak, and Daxter. More people gathered in the pub doorway behind them to watch, but it was clear that they were on team "leaving Haven is mutiny or cowardice".

"This is everyone?" Brutter called, furrowing his fuzzy brow. "Water Slum friends?"

"Here!" One of his former neighbors called, waving from a section of the crowd.

"Good! Saltpeter Row?"

The inhabitants of the row houses made varying sounds of acknowledgement, and Brutter nodded, continuing to call out the names of streets who had agreed to join the secession.

"Morgan street!"

"Redcap Row!"

"Shark Flats!"

"4th Street!"

Only a few groups were unaccounted for in the end, though this wasn't as much of a surprise as expected. They'd known from the beginning that some would probably back out when it was time to go. Better the devil they knew than the one they didn't. But everyone else had shown up.

They shuffled restlessly, meager belongings in carts or on their backs, and waited to find out what was going to happen. Surely they weren't all going to walk to the abandoned temple!

Brutter nodded to Jak, and the boy stepped forward and raised his voice.

"Okay! Here's what's going to happen! Anyone with small kids or trouble walking is going to take the air train to the foot of the mountains. The Babak are waiting with balloons to get you to the temple. It's going to take a few trips, so don't crowd. You'll all get there, I promise."

Daxter took over as soon as Jak finished.

"Everybody else: we're formin' a convoy of four groups! If you know how to fight, yer on the outside of the column. If you don't, stay in the middle! We're gonna stop for breaks sometimes, but we're hiking straight through the Industrial Sector, folks. It's gonna be a good hour or two before we get everyone into the Power Station teleport ring."

Jak nodded and pointed left in the direction they'd be heading. "Tess will be leading Group 1 with the gyro-burster to clear out any threats ahead of us. Jinx is taking Group 2. Group 3, you're with Mogg and Grim. Everyone else, you're with me. For now, everyone with kids move to the right."

The shuffle was tedious, and it was close to ten minutes before everyone was divided into the five groups. The thirty-five people with elderly, children, and mobility issues huddled together as the rest split into crowds of roughly fifty each. Even fifty civilians was a massive number to protect from Deathbots and metalheads. Tess and Jak shot each other grim looks, each worrying about the same thing:

How many people were they going to lose on their way to the power station?

"I'm coming too!"

Jak turned to see Keira pulling her arm free of Samos's grip. His heart leapt: he'd hoped against hope that she would flee the city with them. That she would wrench herself out from under the sage's thumb.

"Keira, no!" Samos gasped, "This is madness!”

He turned a stern look to Jak. "This has gone too far, Jak! You are out of control!"

"Out of your control," Daxter corrected sharply, "That's what you mean, right?"

"You're leading these people to their deaths! I will not allow my daughter to be one of them!" Samos snapped.

Jak felt nerves crawl up his throat. He wanted to vomit. It didn't matter how confident he was as a Captain of Spargus, Samos had programmed his behavior for years and standing up to him was hard.

He swallowed back bile and cleared the trepidation from his throat.

"You didn't have a problem sending someone else's kid into hell for your own gain. You're not doing yourself any favors by waiting until now to have a problem with it."

Keira gestured to him. "See? Thank you, Jak."

"Keira, that's enough," said Samos sternly, "I know it seems harsh to you, but someday you will understand that I am simply doing what is best for you!"

"No, I'm doing what's best for me," Keira retorted, "I'm helping people."

"Keira, I forbid you to step out that door!" the sage cried in a panic.

Keira swung a bag up onto her shoulder.

"I'm no good to anyone in a gilded cage, kept out of danger. And you have no right to fight about it after what you put the boys through."

"Of course I have a right! You're my daughter!"

Keira set her jaw. She closed her eyes and took in a long, shaky breath. Then she stepped out the door.

"Goodbye, Daddy."

Tess squeezed her shoulder as she passed them to gather her platoon. "Hang in there, kiddo," she murmured.

Brutter also eyed her with sympathy as he followed.

"Let us go, friends!" He loudly croaked, "Before we are losing the moonlight!"

Jak frowned thoughtfully. "You got a gun?" he asked Keira quietly.

She shook her head, still trembling with the same adrenaline he felt.

"N-no. But I've got some EMP grenades I've been working on. In case of bots."

Jak's eyebrows rose, and he grinned. "Can't wait to see 'em."

"Yeah well. You probably won't have to.”

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

Two days after the exodus

"I hooked the generator up to the temple, so we should have working shields in a day or two." Keira collapsed onto the ledge beside Jak, utterly exhausted.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dropped an impulsive kiss onto the crown of her head. "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

The butterflies in Keira's stomach made an unwelcome encore appearance, beating their little wings to fan heat up into her cheeks. She liked this new Jak. He was more open with his feelings. Braver about touch. But Precursors if it wasn't an adjustment!

Still. She needed the comfort just now. Keira had just uprooted…everything, for the second time in her young life. She'd walked away from her own father, and no matter how justified she knew it was, it still hurt. She felt small, and lost, in a world far too large for her. Had she really stopped to fully count the cost of joining the formation of the refugee village?

Yes. She had. Keira forced her mind away from the betrayal in her father's eyes, back to the joy that was in Jak’s eyes when he whispered to her that he'd found freedom.

"I don't feel like a miracle worker," she confessed after a few minutes, "I feel like a fraud. I'm- I'm just shy of completely overwhelmed. We have almost nothing, and if Haven decides they don't like us being up here, I don't know how long my shields will even work. Why are they looking to me for all the solutions? Why not Brutter, or Tess?"

Jak made a sympathetic noise. "Yeah...I know how that feels. But apparently sixteen is "too young" to be carrying that kind of responsibility on your shoulders. So. I dunno, take it easy on yourself, I guess?"

Keira rested her head on Jak’s shoulder with a soft hmph, and noted with some amusement that she could hear how fast his heart was beating. Lucky for them Jak had already been in battle that day, clearing out the last metalheads, and had no more eco to react to the adrenaline. Dark Jak was much more snuggly than regular Jak, and much denser in mass, which made it fairly problematic if he happened to doze off while resting against her.

“Kee, I-”

Jak swallowed hard.

“I have to- we need- Mountain Clan is going to join the Wasteland Federation. You- everyone is going to have to get used to a new set of laws. A new. A new king.”

Keira winced. She'd had enough of overbearing authority figures.

“It's going to be…interesting,” she said begrudgingly.

“I have to report to him.” Jak sounded like he was trying to sound her out, gauge her reaction.

“I was going to call him tonight, actually. I just…I guess, don't freak out if he…when he gets here.”

Here? Keira sat up to look Jak in the eye.

“This king person is coming here?”

The buzz of the crickets down the slope seemed to rise, drowning out her thoughts. In a way, she'd known it had to be coming. Jak and Daxter wouldn't have been so insistent on evacuation if there wasn't actually a war coming. It just hadn't felt real.

She looked down at the tents and rudimentary huts their people -- Precursors, she had people now -- had spent the last two days setting up along the hill. So many people who couldn't fight, or wouldn't. If the Wastelanders really were a warrior people, would this king even accept them?

“He has to, Keira. Even if Haven hadn't-” Jak tensed, and a low anger rippled below his words. “Even if they hadn't tried to assassinate him, Damas would still have to come out here. He's the current head of the Federation, and all clans have to send representatives when someone threatens the whole.”

Leave it to Jak to speak of someone with that much power as casually as he spoke about Daxter.

“You all just call him by his name?”

Jak shrugged, and the grin he offered was a little sheepish. “Not to his face. Unless you're me, or Sig. Daxter could, he just likes to call him Spikes or King Lunatic instead. Damas doesn't mind.”

“Spikes?” Keira felt her eyebrows go up. "King Lunatic?!"

“You'll see when he gets here.”

Jak was entirely too calm about that. Keira grimaced, but reasoned that if he was more relaxed now than he was when talking about Ashelin or Samos, that had to be a promising sign, right?

“He um. He sounds…tough,” the girl said, gingerly searching for words. “Is…Is he-”

Keira gave up beating about the bush and decided to just ask the question honestly.

“Jak, you talk about him like you actually trust him. Do you?”

“With my life,” Jak answered, simply and openly.

“And I'd trust him with all of those people down there, more importantly. I'd trust him with Daxter’s life. With yours.”

What could she say to that? Even when they'd been little kids, when they had foolishly trusted Samos to have their best interests at heart, Jak hadn't trusted him around Daxter. And after the…the prison, Daxter was probably the only person Jak truly trusted. For some warrior king of a nation of Sigs to have earned Jak's faith so completely was hard to believe. Almost as hard to take as the respect in Jak’s voice when he so much as mentioned this man.

Who was this King Damas, and what had he done to make Jak of all people so devoted to him and his cause? And more importantly in Keira's mind, did he deserve Jak's loyalty?

“You look up to this guy,” she realized.

And Jak laughed. He rubbed the back of his neck, and looked embarrassed, and laughed.

“Yeah…I mean, I…yeah…he's kind of my hero.”

He covered his face abruptly as his ears burned scarlet.

“Don't you dare tell him I said that.”

“Oh right, because I'd totally get a chance to have a casual conversation with a king and squeal on you.” Keira rolled her eyes.

“If he's as cool as you think he is, maybe he already knows, anyway.”

“No!” Jak groaned, “Don't say that, I have an image to keep up!”

Keira cracked a smile and settled her head back onto Jak’s shoulder. His arm slipped around her waist, and she felt his cheek rest against her hair. An innocent closeness neither of them had felt in too many years, shared for a moment at the beginning of something new and a little frightening.

“When do you think your king will get here?”

Jak grinned into Keira's hair. She'd stopped calling Damas “this king”. The simple acknowledgement of how important he was to Jak felt a lot more validating than he'd anticipated.

“If I call him tonight, I'd say tomorrow evening at the latest. It's only about five hours from here to home by air train.”

Considering the commotion at dawn, when some hut building efforts were abandoned in favor of clearing a landing strip, Keira had her suspicions that the Wastelanders were already on their way before Jak ever placed that hushed and enthusiastic call.

“Clear the field!” Grim waved his arms wildly, scattering refugees into tents and back onto the rope bridge the Babak had built into the temple. “Make some room, everybody!”

Jak was out of his tent with Daxter on his shoulder before the craft had even begun its final approach. He darted to the edge of the makeshift runway and just waited. Brutter opened the door of his hut with a surprised croak, and Tess was already loosening her gun in her holster. Just in case.

There was a pit in Keira's stomach as she joined the people watching the air train land. This was it. Judgement Day.

Out of the air train seven heavily armored Wastelanders practically sauntered, six taking guard positions in a semicircle while the seventh strolled right up to where Jak stood ramrod straight.

It was unnatural, seeing Jak like that. Even more so seeing Daxter in the same attentive posture on his shoulder. Keira watched them nervously for cues.

Jak spoke about the leader of the Wastelander Federation like he was this great hero. Like he idolized the man. Keira suspected she'd get a better read on this new authority figure by observing how he spoke to the boys -- if he spoke to them directly at all.

The king of the desert was an imposing man wielding an elaborate staff. He didn't look like the type to suffer fools gladly. Keira watched his eyes sweep across the huts and lean-tos covering the slopes leading to the temple. They had already constructed fifteen small houses in the style of Sandover Village, and Vin and Keira had just finished setting up a basic eco grid for power. Was it good enough?

"By the forges boys!" The Wasteland king suddenly laughed aloud. "When you said you could find allies in the city, I thought you meant five or six, not an entire village!"

He clapped a hand to Jak’s unoccupied shoulder in a gesture Keira recognized -- with her share of bittersweet longing -- as pride.

"Welcome to Mountain Clan, sir," Jak answered, just as proud.

So. Jak wasn't exaggerating his admiration for this man. Not that Keira had thought he would. Jak wasn't prone to exaggeration and hyperbole. And while he still stood smartly at attention, if Keira looked closely she could see her friend practically vibrating with excitement. He behaved like a soldier -- the soldier Haven always wanted but could never have -- and yet at the same time he reminded Keira of nothing as much as a little boy whose parent had finally come home from a long journey.

That thought stuck in her mind as Brutter and Tess approached.

To her shock -- and the shock of the boys -- the Babak let out a jubilant cry when he recognized the man in armor.

"Brother Damas!" he trumpeted, catching the attention of the other Lurkers helping in the new village.

"Brother Damas lives! Our hearts are full!"

Damas looked taken aback for a moment, then a smile creased his weatherbeaten face and he reached out to clasp Brutter's forearm.

"You-! I remember you! It's been a long time, Bluefeather."

"Too long," Brutter croaked.

"Are your people safe?" Damas frowned. "I'm- I'm sorry. One operative wasn't enough to help free them. It was a poor repayment for the way you supported my family during the coup."

Sadly, the Babak leader shook his head. "We Lurkers were not saving your friends, Brother. We could not stop the executing after you exiled. Always my elders feel they failed you."

Damas squeezed the Lurker's thick forearm with an earnest expression. "You failed no one, Brother. Welcome to the Federation."

Beside them, Jak's face went from confusion to wonder to a barely restrained glee. Damas had organized the abolition efforts? That meant Jak had been working for Damas long before he ever heard the man's name! He exchanged excited looks with Daxter. This went beyond best case scenario for them. Their honorary tribe and their adopted people were now united.

"Now then!" Damas turned on his heel to raise an amused eyebrow at Jak.

"I've been getting extremely detailed reports from you, Captain. Come! Walk me through what you're doing up here!"

Jak practically scrambled to follow him, an almost silly grin stamped across his face. It made Keira's heart ache to realize she hadn't seen that smile since Sandover. Brutter broke into her thoughts with a gurgling chuckle.

"Once king, always king," he said fondly. "Brutter did not know he had offspring! Jak is very good son. Very loyal."

Keira jolted. "Offspring?! What do you mean?!"

Brutter looked confused, as though he thought his observation was obvious.

[the-ace-with-spades]

List of Works-In-Progress I'm still intending to write/actively writing 📃✨

or my accountability list to look at in a few months...

last updated: 09/04/24

Fandoms: 🚒 9-1-1 [5-7 works], ✈️ Top Gun (movies) [9 works], 🔪CoD (reboot only for now) [4 works]

Already posted on AO3, ongoing works:

✈️ Top Gun, hangster — (sometimes I feel) like a monkey pilot, trans!Rooster fic with a hangster confrontation (and getting back together), 6 years after Rooster's transition. When recalled to Top Gun. #(sif) lamp tag

✈️ Top Gun, hangster, slow down (you're doing fine) — Rooster-centric/character study fic with Getting Back Together trope and past-hangster flashbacks and icemav as parents #slow down tag

✈️ Top Gun, hangster — just hold my hand, outsider Mav POV, kind TG:M retelling AU

Bradley and Jake are married and have four kids and Mav didn't know about any of it until the special detachment because he and Bradley haven't talked in years. Things happen and Mav gets to be a grandpa. (vague, unspecified kind of mpreg is in this story)

*

Planned out and started sequels/bonuses, not posted yet:

✈️ Top Gun, icemav — bonus for slow down (you're doing fine)

It is the 5+1 icemav prequel from the slow down universe I talked about, I just don't seem to finish it (it's really hard to write Ice POV...)

The 5 times Ice waited for Mav to be ready and 1 time Mav realized he'd been ready for a while.

✈️ Top Gun, hangster — sequel for slow down (you're doing fine)

The weeks after Bradley and Jake decide to try being together again, mostly trying to figure out how to be together in a way that is healthier and more honest. Including meeting the parents (icemav), meeting the sister (Jake's), and Nat's judgment.

✈️ Top Gun, hangster — sparks (working title), sequel/bonus for ignition, the firefighter! Bradley AU #ignition tag

Done in snippets/drabbles. The adventures of firefighter!Bradley and still a naval aviator!Jake, which would include the world cockblocking them from finally going on their first date (5 times they had to cancel their date, and 1 time didn't), the awkward first times, as well as Bradley lecturing Jake on safety a little bit too often (and Jake finding it hot...)

*

Started writing, but haven't posted yet and don't know if I'll ever finish it even if I want to:

🔪 CoD, ghostsoap — exhumation, different first meeting and (kinda) secret identity AU — overview here, a snippet here

Written in a flashback/present sequence. Soap and Ghost met when they were just Johnny and Simon, starting in the Army. From dates, to sharing a Manchester flat, ending with Simon being MIA in Mexico for months, they'd been together through a lot. But the Christmas Eve Simon's family, bar Johnny, is killed, he chooses to die with them and never put anyone in danger. Years pass, and Soap joins TF-141.

🔪 CoD, ghostsoap — don't shoot me, santa, first Christmas Ghost spends with the MacTavish family (and first Christmas he spends with anyone in almost 10 years) and all its troubleshooting — overview here

Johnny takes Ghost to Scotland to spend their first Christmas together. Johnny's family is not too thrilled about Ghost — about the mask he wears, about the job he has, about the family he doesn't have, about how faceless he is, even to Johnny. Ghost decides that Johnny is worth taking the mask off and starting living as Simon again.

🚒 9-1-1, buddie — brand new information, the 5+1 jealous!Eddie fic — a snippet here

5 times Eddie found something new about Buck's taste in men (and was ridiculous about it) and 1 time he found out Buck's type (Eddie)

Used to titled in my drafts 'eddie trying to prove he matches bucks taste in men'

🚒 9-1-1, buddie — the cure series, a canon-divergence au after Wrapped in Red with a side of trans!Buck

Part 1, 'cause boys don't cry, a snippet here — Buck decides to leave the 118 after Wrapped In Red in order to stop defining himself by the people he loves and learn to live alone and both succeeds and fails at it. Includes Buck long-distance parenting Chris, Eddie feeling like a long-distance spouse whose husband refuses to stop taking long-distance jobs, jealous!Eddie, Maddie&Eddie bestism, and people all over the States assuming Buck is divorced. Longest part of the series and the most angsty one.

Part 2, like I'm home again, a snippet here [coming soon??] — future fic, Buck is back at 118, he and Eddie are married, Chris is choosing colleges, and Bobby is trying to get Buck into leadership training so he can retire. And then, Eddie enters what Buck and Chris think is a mid-life crisis, but is in reality a baby fever.

Part 3, untitled, a snippet here — future fic, outsider POV from a new probie at the 118. Captain Diaz and Lieutenant Diaz are running the firehouse, but their family, including kids, Buck's not-dad and retired captain Bobby, keep on popping up and confusing the new probie. Buck also pulls a Bobby and 'adopts' the new probie.

Parts probably won't be posted in order.

🚒 9-1-1, buddie — accidental trans pregnancy, a short one-shot based on a meme post.

Buck is nauseous, Chim makes a joke (not knowing Buck is trans and have been dating Eddie for a few months now), and Eddie has a metaphorical heart attack at the table.

🚒 9-1-1, buddie — Buck wants to be a parent and thanks to Connor, he realizes he can be a parent without finding a partner first — overview here

The most ridiculous fic idea I've had the desire to write. Involves trans Buck, sperm donor arc in reverse, Eddie doing mental summersaults to be said sperm donor.

🚒 9-1-1, buddie — AU for the post-lawsuit arc, with buddie already being a couple before the lawsuit — snippet here [coming soon??]

Buck takes the settlement and becomes a (maybe temporary) househusband/stay-at-home-dad. This would be centred on Buck, but would not have the crew bashing, but rather a realistic view on how everyone feels and how the lawsuit and settlement deal would affect the team, etc.

✈️ Top Gun, hangster — with arms wide open, omegaverse mpreg that follows the TG:M storyline (kinda) — overview here

(in my head, this fic is very soap opera-like, but I like it this way so...) Bradley and Jake had been together 7 years with no mating, no marriage, and or no even just meeting Jake's family, and Bradley was okay with it. Until he found out he was pregnant. So when Jake doesn't want anything to change, Bradley leaves and seeks help from the only person he can think of — Ice. Cue the wayward son getting reconciled, a few months passing, and by the time Bradley meets Jake again, he's six months pregnant.

*

Drafted only but I still want to write it sometime:

✈️ Top Gun, hangster — Pacific Rim AU — a tag for this fic is #hangster pacific rim au

History repeats itself — Mav loses his drift partner and raises his kid and years later, Bradley loses his drift partner and raises her kid (with a twist). Mav doesn't leave PPDC, but Bradley does — at least until Ice shows up telling him the world is ending, this time for good. Featuring Jake being both Bradley's fanboy and a tsundere (ala Chuck about Raleigh) and weirdly good with kids and the typical mortifying ordeal of being seen during the drift.

✈️ Top Gun, hangster — sequel for (sometimes I feel), like a monkey pilot, that would dive into the idea of Jake and Bradley starting a family

I'll make a post about this at some point because there are so many ways this could be written. I do think that they're the type that would have an accidental pregnancy, but there are so many ways this could happen (on deployment, right before deployment, cryptic pregnancy, with some miscommunication involved - I think they're dumb enough any of it seems feasible)

🔪 CoD, ghostsoap, possible side gazprice?? — blindsided, tattoo artist/florist au but not really, with a misunderstanding twist

Where Ghost and Soap are both ex-military, Ghost and Price have a tattoo shop, and a street away what they think is a florist shop opens. Totally self-indulgent because I wanted to give Ghost a full-body skeleton tattoo, skull-face tattoo included. I have absolutely no other details besides this, this is slightly recycled from another fandom...

🔪 CoD, ghostsoap — with lights off, a longer one-shot about Simon and Johnny still being badass even if retired from the military

Retried, Simon and Johnny move to Glasgow and start a family. While Johnny still craves the adrenaline and works with the Glasgow Organised Crime and Counter Terrorist Unit, Simon rides among the streets as a paramedic in the Motorcycle Response Unit and only shows up when the guns and stabs are done. That is, until the day when Johnny and his team are taken hostage in a terrorist attack and he's the first responder on scene and The Ghost is needed again.

There are probably a few more in this category and in the kinda-abandoned-but-not-really category, I never fully abandon my works but I'll leave it at that for now

[theloveoffootball10]

sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ : ғ ᴏ ᴜ ʀ ᴛ ᴇ ᴇ ɴ

m a s t e r l i s t

ғ ᴏ ᴜ ʀ ᴛ ᴇ ᴇ ɴ

The next day I put the finishing touches to my outfit. My hair is slicked back in a high ponytail and I'm wearing a full sequin black blazer dress with strappy black heels. To add colour to my outfit I've gone for a bold red lip. I don't know what my dad has planned but I want to make the effort. He always does so much for me I look forward to the time we spend together.

"Estás preciosa, mi princesa" my dad says as I walk into the kitchen of the villa. No one is around however they all knew today was about me and my dad.

"Gracias, papá" I always try and speak in Spanish when I'm with my dad, I've been brought up speaking the language and I've been fluent since I was a child. My mum always stressed how important it was for me to speak both languages, especially for when I visit my dad's family.

I still have no idea where my dad is taking me but I follow him out to the car he's booked. I haven't seen my friends for most of the afternoon but I knew they'd plan their own thing for today and Lando told me that he has plans for tonight as well so I know I won't be seeing him. It'll be nice to spend time with my dad, as much as I've been around him lately it doesn't feel like we've spent a lot of time together.

Pulling up at the restaurant I'm shocked when I realise we're at Carbone. It's one of the best restaurants in Miami and my dad has managed to get us a booking. As we're shown to our table I realise my mum is sitting waiting for us.

"Mum what are you doing here?" I ask as I take a seat at the table.

"Lucía you didn't think I was going to miss your birthday did you? Me and your dad have had this planned for months. Neither of us have missed a birthday before, we aren't about to start now" my mum explains.

"You're both amazing. Did you fly out yourself?" I ask knowing how much my mum hates flying.

"Lucía do you not know your mum at all? Steph, Kelly and Donna are here as well. If you're turning 24 you're doing it in style princesita. Plus your mum and I need to celebrate keeping a human alive for this long and doing a good job of it" I absolutely adore the relationship my mum and dad have. I've never felt like I need them to be in a relationship with each other, they get on so good as friends. I love being able to spend time with them both at the same time.

"Does Liv know her mum is here?" My mum and Liv's mum Steph grew up together and that relationship carried on with me and Liv. We're all so close I know I could go to Steph with anything and she'd have my back.

"She does now. We're going to take you girls out one night but from what your dad has said you need to fit me into your busy schedule around a certain Lando Norris" my mum has a knowing look on her face and it means my dad has told her everything.

"Mum he's amazing. It's not often I'll say it because of my previous disasters but he's everything I could want in a man"

"Ooh Fernando our daughter's in love. Just remember we aren't old enough to be grandparents yet and I'm not ready to give up girls holidays for babysitting"

"Christ mum I'm not even in a relationship and you've already got me popping out kids" I say with a laugh knowing kids are a long way off. I'm far from ready for that.

"I bet before you go back to Manchester you're in a relationship with him" my dad says and there's a serious tone to him. I get he's seen me with Lando but I didn't think my dad would be one of my biggest cheerleaders when it comes to a relationship. I'm not going to force a relationship but the way things are progressing with Lando it seems naturally that will be our next step.

After spending a few hours at the restaurant with my mum and dad we jump back in the car to the villa to pick everyone up. My dad wanted the dinner to be for family and now he's said we're heading out to the Miami clubs to celebrate.

"Lucía go and grab everyone you have the youngest legs" my mum says from her seat in the car.

"Papá is also the fittest out of all of us" I say climbing out of the car knowing there's no point trying to argue. Walking into the villa its silent, I don't hear anyone. Mumbling a quick 'what the fuck' to myself I walk into the kitchen.

"Surprise!" I scream in shock as I'm attacked with confetti cannons by my friends, my dads friends, my mums friends, drivers and Lando.

"Oh my god you sly little fuckers! You all knew this was planned!" I say with a laugh as I'm handed a glass of wine and the music starts "thank you so much for coming"

"Feliz cumpleaños, Lucía"

"Papá you're the best" the whole villa has been transformed into our own private club. There's a DJ and dance floor as well as a fully stocked bar. I can't wait to let loose and enjoy tonight without having to worry about paparazzi or fans taking photos of us. "Estoy muy agradecido por todo and you as well mum because I know you'll have been involved"

"Lucía you know we'll always do anything we can for you. Go and enjoy yourself, I know a certain driver is waiting for you" my mum raises her eyebrow giving me the look. She wants me to spend time with Lando. Instead of running straight to Lando I make my way around everyone who is here.

"Steph I can't believe you're here! Thanks for making mum fly this far"

"Lucía you've always been like a second daughter to me, if making your mum fly to Miami means a holiday for me I'm making her get on that plane. Cheers kid" Steph says grabbing us a shot glass from a tray "I'll see you for karaoke later"

"You kept these Monday night plans quiet didn't you" I say wrapping my arms around Lando's neck as I eventually make my way to him.

"I couldn't tell you and ruin the surprise. Your dad would've killed me. You look beautiful Lucía" Lando whispers placing a kiss near my ear so I'm the only one who can hear him.

"Thank you. That's the first time you've called me beautiful. I like hearing it from you"

"I'll make sure to tell you more often. I'm a fan of the red lip, it'll look fucking amazing around my cock later" Lando says pulling my hips closer to him.

"Maybe that's the plan Lando" kissing Lando I run my fingers through his curls running my tongue along his bottom lip. I don't think I'll ever understand why he gives me so much of his time when he could be doing so many other things but I won't ever complain about spending time with him.

"So Lando Norris, it's nice to finally meet the man who has my daughter so smitten, I'm Stacey" pulling away from Lando I wipe the red lipstick from his lips and turn to my mum who's stood behind Lando. I knew this would happen eventually but I didn't think it would be yet, I would actually like to go on my first date with Lando before he gets the mum conversation.

"It's nice to meet you. She's got quite the hold on me as well"

"All I ask Lando is that you don't hurt her. She's been hurt so many times in the past and she's had plenty of dating disasters, that Jake kid being one of the worst, I want Lucía to find someone who deserves her love because when she loves someone she loves them with her whole heart. Call me biased but between us I think me and Nando have raised a good kid, we just want the best for her" why does my mum keep going back to Jake? Of all my past dates he's the one I want to forget the most "That's all I'm going to say now because I can see the look Lucía is giving me"

"Go on, I know you're dying to ask about that date" I say seeing the look in Lando's eye as my mum leaves us alone.

"Why was it the worst date?"

"I was all dressed up thinking we'd be going for dinner or something and instead he took me fishing. I was surrounded by rain, mud, maggots and fish. It was hell" Lando can't hold his laugh in turn making me laugh.

"I can promise you I won't ever take you anywhere near fish. Come on let's get you another wine" following Lando to the bar I can't believe all of these people are here for me. Most of them are my closest friends but a lot of the drivers barely know me but the ones who are still in Miami are here.

A few hours and many glasses of wine later I am absolutely steaming drunk. I haven't stopped dancing to every song the DJ has played including 90's and 00's club classics, all of which I know thanks to my mum. Hearing the beginning of Celine Dion I run around the villa looking for Liv, my mum and Steph. As we all climb onto the kitchen island we dance and belt out the lyrics to It's All Coming Back to Me Now using a vape as a microphone, singing horrifically might I add but for the four of us this is our karaoke staple. In our drunk state we play up to the group of friends that have gathered to cheer us on. As my mum and Steph get down off the island Liv and I continue to sing to N-Dubz, Girls knowing the song word for word.    

"Did you expect my daughter to be so feral?" My dad asks Lando as I sit on Lando's knee, finally getting down off the island putting an end to the performance of the year.

"Honestly it hasn't surprised me at all. I'd say she's a classy chav" Lando says with a laugh "but it's who she is and what makes her so special"

"Good luck is all I'm going to say Lando" my dad says walking away with a laugh leaving me alone with Lando.

"Papá! I'm not that bad! Maybe a little wild but some things won't ever change" people have said in the past that I need someone to rein me in, I don't. I need someone who can balance out my energy.

"You are who you are Lucía and personally I think you're fucking incredible" kissing Lando I run my fingers through his hair pulling him closer to me.

"Take me to bed Lando. I've waited all night for you to have your way with me" standing up I take Lando by the hand leading him to my bedroom. Making sure I lock the door, I look Lando up and down. This man is here for me and the more time I spend with him, the more I know I need him in my life.

esmelucia 📍Miami

Liked by fernandoalonso, landonorris and 20,518 others

esmelucia Celebrating chapter 24 early 🤍

View all 138 comments

alexandrasaintmleux the best night celebrating you 👑

↪️ esmelucia thank you for coming 🤍

landonorris beautiful 🔥🔥

↪️ esmelucia 😘

user7 Lando commenting again 🥹

↪️ user9 istg they have to be together

↪️ user5 there's rumours that they were seen kissing after the race

[cursedvibes]

Since Kenjaku has lived for 1000+ years, do you think they have any other children besides the DPW and Yuuji? 1000 years is a long time to live and experiment, but at the same time it seems like child rearing is something Kenny only did for the sake of their plans... what do you think? :b

Looking at their domain expansion, yeah I think so. Kenjaku is absolutely obsessed with pregnancy and birth and how it relates to jujutsu and cursed energy, so I think they'd do it at least once to try it out, likely more oftern. I highly doubt Kaori was their first vessel with a womb. Being so heavily interested in that subject for a long enough period that it influenced their domain, I don't think that's something they only started dabbling in 150 years ago. Seems only natural to try it out on themselves as well. Plus, contraception wasn't as good in the past. Accidents happen.

Kenjaku wants change, the progress of humanity and taking cursed energy to its extreme. They said in Shibuya that they have tried to birth that themselves, but the results never managed to exceed their own potential and I don't think that only refers to the Death Paintings because Kenjaku seems mostly over that failure, but is unusually melancholic here. It's very different to how they talk to and about Choso in the movie theatre. There must have been something else in the past that affected them more personally. This just doesn't seem like an obsession they only got into a century ago. Especially because they talk about birthing that change themselves I think that is how they started out. Use their vessel and someone else's sperm or a modified womb to birth a child that could surpass them and their expectations. The merger curse is essentially that as well, just pushed to the extreme. They do currently carry Tengen inside them.

Kenjaku added their own blood to the Death Paintings when they didn't have to. I'm sure they could've pressured Noritoshi Sr. to do the same thing without needing to possess him. Clearly they like to be somewhat related to the children they create. A theory or hc I have is that Kenjaku started pretty simple by having a child with a strong sorcerer for example and when the results never lived up to, much less surpassed, their expectations, they took more and more drastic measures. After many failures they thought that their personal involvement might have a negative impact on the outcome and chose to take a step back aka the Death Painting experiment. Part of it was likely also that despite their fascination for them in theory, Kenjaku looks down on curses and might find the prospect of having a child with one a bit icky. Otherwise Kenjaku could've just possessed the DP mother. The involvement of curses like that would also likely lead to extreme outcomes and require many tries and performing an abortion on somebody else is much easier than doing it on yourself. After 9 failures Kenjaku realized that this approach wasn't working either, so they scraped together all their knowledge and experience from the past millennia, gave it one more try and created Yuuji.

Additionally, I don't think Yuuji, someone intended to be Sukuna's cage and then evolve from there, was just a stroke of luck. You have to plan that and do test runs. If Yuuji can't reliably suppress large amounts of Sukuna's cursed energy, their whole carefully prepared plan would blow up in their face. So they improve and improve until they can produce the kind of vessel they want by the time Sukuna is supposed to be incarnated. The Death Paintings are something completely different, they aren't relevant here, so it would make sense if Kenjaku tried to create - or more likely birth - a proto-Yuuji in the past. That one wasn't quite it though, so they kept going until everything came together and they had Kaori and Jin to finish it off.

I wouldn't put it past Kenjaku to have had a genuine wish for a child at some point when they were very young (like less than 100 years old). No grandiose plans, the idea of raising a new generation just appealed to them. But that plan got corrupted eventually the more they got obsessed with Tengen, her body and pushing cursed energy/humanity to new limits for the sake of satisfying their bottomless curiosity. It's kind of similar to their problem with friendship, I think.

Kenjaku has a pretty normal understanding of friendship when we come down to it, no crazy obsession with power levels or whatever. As we see with their recent actions, particularly around Takaba, they also seem quite lonely and are looking for friends they can share their passions with (now as well as in the past). Tengen is gone or more like one of their fundamentals for friendship - an equal relationship - isn't there anymore, so they need someone else to fill that void and dissatisfaction.

I'm pretty sure Kenjaku was always looking for friends they can be a nerd with, ever since they were young, but eventually the whole thousand year vendetta became more important. Maybe after Tengen's merger, when they were denied to find out what her evolution would lead to. A messy breakup will do that to you. Their curiosity became more important than friendships or a regular wish for children, and they got into the habit of using the people around them or even their family as tools and sacrificing them for the sake of their grander ambition. That might also be how they lost their capability to feel regret. They clearly aren't happy with their current arrangement with Tengen, but at this point they can't turn back and just hope that the outcome will be funny and/or interesting.

So yeah, I'm pretty sure they had children before. For a multitude of reasons, be it that they just wanted to be a mother, simple curiosity or for the sake of their plan.

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Twenty

Note: To cheer up my friend ❤️❤️ @thelazywitchphotographer, sorry if it seems rushed!

Hero stares forlornly at the seemingly never-ending pile of work on their desk. They'd just come back from a particularly rough mission, and every muscle ached with the pull of a horribly tight knot. They almost sway on their feet to get to the desk, half-falling unceremoniously into their chair.

They don't get the chance to rest though. Even the shower they have is quick and freezing cold, not even able to afford to wait for the water to heat up. They are tormented by the never-ending progression of time, the annoying ticking on the clock hanging on their wall serving as another reminder of it.

They let out a soft sigh and begin on one of the reports, silently accepting their fate.

Halfway through, the crime-fighter's attention is diverted from their work by the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat.

Curse Villain and their stupid invisibility powers. How they got in here is beyond Hero. All they know is that they're too damn exhausted to deal with the evil-doer's crap.

"Hey, Hero! I missed you! It's been so long," their nemesis chirps, practically bouncing on their feet, with a wide grin plastered to their face.

"You just kicked my butt like two hours ago, so whatever this is, drop it. I got work to do."

The irritation in the hero's tone doesn't go unnoticed by their enemy. This snappy, jaded person in front of them is nothing like Hero's usually cheerful self.

But it doesn't take a genius to put two-and-two together, judging by the stacks of paper, practically hiding most of the crime-stopper's face, the dark circles under their eyes and the tight line of their shoulders.

"That's enough," Villain says sternly, snatching the pen away from Hero's grasp.

"Hey! Give it back."

"Have you seen yourself, Hero? You look two seconds away from getting knocked unconscious."

"But I-"

"Come on, Hero. Would you rather keep staying here finishing heaps of boring paperwork, or come over and relax with me?"

When they said it like that, it was impossible not to cave in. Besides, they still had two days left to finish this. They'd never really listened to their self-indulgent side before, so it wouldn't hurt to satisfy their temptations just this once, right?

Villain drags them over to the living room, playing their favourite comfort movie in the background. (How they knew their way so well around their house, they did not know.)

They pull them into their lap, their nails quickly finding their way along Hero's scalp, scratching it softly, fingers carding through their nemesis's hair.

Oh, but they're not done spoiling them just yet. The stiffness of Hero's movements isn't lost on the villain, and they start kneading out the tension in the hero's throbbing back and shoulders.

When their nemesis lets out a content sigh in spite of themselves, and they lean greedily into the touch, it dawns on them.

"You're touch-starved, aren't you?" they whisper softly, still massaging the sore muscles.

"Probably," their adversary mumbles lazily into their lap.

Villain gently shifts the half-asleep hero, so that they're in their arms now, lightly stroking their soft, fluffy locks. It doesn't take long for Hero to doze off, although they somehow wrap their arms around Villain's torso while asleep.

Next thing they knew, Villain and Hero were asleep in each other's arms.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-whump @enbious-prince @dodo-docs @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @justalittlecorrupted @addictedsandwhichaki @quaggasus @vernilliom @sirrsnakesssss

Wanna be on the taglist? This will take you there!

[seasinkarnadine]

@redswan12

Undead tissue doesn’t heal the same way living skin does. The body’s natural responses are stymied, so without magic it takes an absolute age for injuries to recover. On the other hand, one can continue moving whence the living might be debilitated with pain. It’s been a long time since Laudna felt the pain of being alive. Her left leg drags awkwardly behind her as she stumbles through the inn’s front door.

“Excuse me–terribly sorry,” she murmurs as she maneuvers through the busy crowd. “Oops–! Let me clean that for you.” She prestidigitates the woman’s dress in apology. “You look ravishing in that, by the way.”

It’s a relief to finally reach the stairs. 

Between the railing and her good leg she manages an awkward hop-skip-drag up, one step at a time. There’s a long look from a dragonborn who passes her on his way down, but nobody halts her progress. Thank goodness. 

Her hands are shaking so it takes a few tries before she gets the key into the lock. It’s empty. The others must still be gathering their supplies. That’s probably for the best.

It takes a few minutes of digging through her supplies but she comes up with a spool of red thread. There’s black in there somewhere, but she likes how the red looks against her skin. Almost like she has actual blood. 

“Oi! Put me onna table, all this swingin’ about’s gon’ make me sick!” Ah. Oops. 

“Sorry, Pâté.” She unhooks him from her belt and settles him against her pack.

“They gotcha pretty good huh?” He tilts his head to get a better look at her.

“Oh, damn. Am I quite a mess?”

“‘Fraid so.” She doesn’t have any mirrors so it’s difficult to do a proper assessment. Imogen probably has one… no, it would be rude to go digging through her things.

"I suppose we will have to do what we can." 

"Ye, get the one on yer hip, yer leakin' all o'er the floor!"

"Dear. So I am." It's not difficult to hike up her skirt; the villagers slashed right through it with their scythes. Seems like they cut through tendons, too. Otherwise her hip dislocated when she fell. She'll have a poke at it later.

"Little to the right and they'd have got your lady bits," Pâté notes.

"How gruesome that would've been," Laudna chuckles. Her shaky hands steady some as she weaves the needle through her skin. 

"I betcha it would look like ground meat. Is Imogen inta that?"

"Pâté," she scolds gently.

"Right, sorry." 

She finishes stitching her hip back together, and then moves on to her wrists. She used them to cover her head so they unfortunately took quite the beating.

The door slams open, causing Laudna to startle about 6 feet in the air.

“Assholes,” Imogen spits, unbuckling her harness and tossing it onto the bed. “Laudna?” She turns, but her eyes don’t land quite right. “Why you sittin’ here in the dark?”

“Oh! Seems I rather lost track of time.” She gently folds her skirt over her hip. When had the sun set? “Darling, what happened?” Now that she’s paying attention, Laudna can feel the agitated hum of Imogen’s mind hovering at the edge of her consciousness 

“Small-minded country folk is what happened.” Imogen busies herself with lighting the lamps in their room. “It took me fuckin’ three hours to find a shop that even carried the griffon feathers and when I did the shopkeep took one look at my arms an’ hair and pretended he didn’ even see me! Every time someone new’d show up he’d talk to them before me! And-and then! When I finally did get his attention, he said he didn’t have the feathers, like they weren’t just sittin’ out on the front of the table for everyone to see!”

“What if I went back with you? I’m sure the two of us together could find a way to…persuade him to part with the goods.”

“No, thank you,” Imogen sighs. “I got the feathers in the end–Laudna!” Imogen’s eyes go wide as she turns to look at Laudna for the first time since entering the room.

“What happened?!” 

“What? Where?” Her form of dread prickles at her skin as she searches for the cause of Imogen’s alarm.

“Sweetheart, no. Your face…” 

“Oh.” Her magic settles down. “Is it bad?” The grim set to Imogen’s jaw is at odds with the tender way she cups Laudna’s cheek. 

“Who did this to you.” Something flutters up Laudna’s spine at the dangerous husk in Imogen’s voice.

“I-I took a tumble down some stairs–”

“How’d you fall down stairs?”

“I was in a hurry–”

“Why were you in a hurry?”

“Some of the townsfolk mistook me for a ghoul.” Imogen’s mind stops buzzing and picks up a tapping rhythm instead. She’s asking to be let in. Laudna does not deny her. laudna could never deny her.

I’m gonna fucken’ killem–

No, no, it’s alright. They pushed me into a river–

They pushed you into a river–!

–and I’m pretty sure they think they killed me. They won’t come after me. It’s alright.

Alright?! You coulda drowned!

Darling, I don’t need to breathe. Past the first bend the river was quite calm, really. It was easy to swim out. I dried myself and sneaked back here.

Imogen stands back, her hands balled into fists. Laudna doesn’t need the mental connection to know that fury is blazing bright and hot.

“I’m gonna burn this place to the fucken’ ground.”

“Dear you know I fully support whatever you want to do, but can’t we take a rest, first? I’m exhausted.” She’s beautiful when she’s angry (she’s beautiful all the time), but the townsfolk don’t deserve Imogen’s wrath. They saw Laudna and they were scared. They wanted to protect what they loved.  She can’t fault them for that. After all, if Imogen were in danger, Laudna would do whatever was necessary.

You are far too generous to the world, Imogen sighs. Her body relaxes, her fists unfurling. And far too sweet to me. She sits down on the bed.

“Hand me the jar with the–what’s it called, arcina.” They spend the rest of the evening tending to Laudna’s injuries together. As a team.

[canidkid]

Summer Harvest Season

Been a while since I've posted writing! Classic little domestic peace agere oneshots,, my passion :3

Regressor!Johnny Abbot & CG!Meadow (oc)

🐴🍒🐕🍃🌾☀️

Read the full thing under the cut!

! Contains some very very minor cussing !

It was finally cherry season. The time of year both Johnny and Meadow looked most forward to. They prepared as well as they possibly could. Cleaning jam jars and pie pans, giving the kitchen an all new shine. Meadow had been writing down the progress of fruiting trees in the area for years, so she was dead set on the perfect time and place.

Johnny had asked early on if it were alright if he regressed at any point. He knew cherry picking was a lot more work than people liked to crack it up to be. And he didn't want to make it any more bothersome with his childish tendencies. Meadow seemed to take this as a personal challenge.

"Alright, Johnny- boy! Sun's almost up to the Horizon, so we gotta hurry!" She pats her wicker basket, stuffed with countless other fabric bags. He peeks up at her from the ground, where he's currently struggling to tie his shoes. Meadow smiles softly. It makes Johnny shrink into himself slightly. "I'm sorry. I won't be much help like this all-all- ugh.." Johnny keeps his Gaze intently focused on the tips of his shoes.

Meadow kneels down next to him, wordlessly finishing his clumsy attempt at putting on his outdoor shoes. "You'll be a great help. I know someone who picks the best ever cherries for pies. And I believe I remember, he also taught me the jam recipe we're still using!" She turns her face toward him with a genuine smile, hesitantly returned by the other.

It was a rather hot day, summer seemed to have come in hard and fast. Everybody was grateful for the shade the forestry provided. Sterling plodded dutifully behind Meadow as she led the way through the twisty-turny foot paths. Johnny was still quite spooked by the whole horse thing - but Meadow had insisted the bonding would do them some good! Even if Meadow would be the one holding a lead rope the whole time. This horse-human triad was, as always, flanked by two of the woman's dogs. Stella trotted upfront, beside her master. Her fluffy, dual toned coat bouncing along with every happy step. Her brother Monty darted between his duties like a tricolor lightning flash. Check on Meadow, check on Sterling, check on Meadow's other weird pet, repeat.

Their trip to the fruiting trees wasn't a long one. It hardly took them far from the cottage. Past a lake and through a dense path of ferns, finally to the large clearing.

The field in which they stood was divided by a flowing stream of water. A very welcome sight to everyone involved. Meadow had expected Johnny to go down younger - but not at this speed! She caught a glimpse of the boy practically vibrating up on the draft horse's back. He captured her gaze, his smile brightening as he stuck one arm out to her. "Down Doe, down!" Meadow laughed, hauling her little boy back to solid ground. She barely got a second to look at him, before he immediately turned his attention to Sterling. He leaned in to him, whispering in the animal's ear as he patted his neck.

"You're a good horsie. Good horsie, Sterling! If Doe says you can't have cherries I'll get you some…but you can't tell her! But you have to be eeeeeeextra nice on the way back also!"

Meadow almost couldn't hold her laughter. They'd just gotten here, and he was already conspiring with her animals!! At least Stella and Monty were immune. They knew damn well they could get their own cherries. Both dogs had shot off to the stream almost immediately on arrival. Chasing each other through the grass and using the water as an out, or splashing one another with it - their high-pitched yips and barks disturbing the surrounding serenity as they played.

Meadow set her big basket on the ground. Clapping her hands to call everybody to attention. "Alright, kids, time to get some work done!" She picked a cloth bag from the selection she'd brought. "Anything you can reach, put it in the bag! But - and this is important - check any fruit for worm holes or signs of rot! We don't want that yucky stuff in our food." Johnny eagerly reached for his own bag, trundling behind Meadow like an excited puppy.

The heat was easy to forget when you were having fun. Not long after they'd begun to pluck their share of cherries, Johnny and Meadow had decided it would be much more fun to climb the trees instead of simply trying to reach lower branches. The dogs would not have let this slide, were it not for the fact they were unable to do anything but watch disapprovingly from the ground. Sterling had elected himself to be an active part of this endeavor, always positioning himself so his big head was between the branches. Johnny kept his earlier promise, slipping the old horse a sweet summer treat every once in a while.

I never continued with this fic thingie - maybe I will in the future! But I hope you enjoy how far I did get for now ! ! <3

[enderon]

This is another instance of something seeming terrible when I wrote it, but after some time, revisting, it's actually not that bad. A but awkward in some places, but not terrible.

It's the start of a fic that will explore the specifics of Junior and Leo's relationship that does turn smutty, but the smut is for the sake of exploring characters and relationship and I actually put a lot of thought into what Leo, a being with no secual organs who reproduces asexually, might get out of such a relationship. If that interests you and you like this beginning, let me know and I'll see about finishing it.

------------

Leo was busy discussing the preparations of an upcoming ritual feast when a handmaiden walked up and cleared her throat to get the spirit's attention. He turned to her, not feeling even an ounce of annoyance, as his duty as master and guardian of Infant Island saw many people needing him all throughout the day, making interruptions like this very common. 

She bowed politely in greeting. “Your grace, you have a visitor.” She gestured towards the entrance, where a small body could be seen leaning up against a wall. 

Minya didn't often come to the worship chamber. While he was thankfully beginning to grow out of his timidness, he had once admitted that the place was so special that he felt wrong being there. Leo had of course assured the child that he was more than welcome in his family's special place, but he still tended to avoid it if he could. So to see him there, wringing his scarf in his hands in his usual nervous fashion, Leo knew it had to be important. 

“Thank you, I'll go handle it.” Turning back to the priest he had just been speaking to, “Go forward with that idea, see what can be done. I'll check in on the progress later, once this issue is handled.” 

All present nodded and bowed once again in respect before heading off to tend to other matters, leaving Leo with the young mutant. 

“Is everything alright Minya?” He made sure to keep his voice soft and kind as he approached the child, kneeling down once close enough so he wasn't towering over him. Not that that was quite as easy these days. 

While still a bit underdeveloped for his age, Minya was shooting up quick, as most mutant children did. At a mere ten years, he was already beginning to match grown humans in height, and would likely surpass them quickly in the next few years. It warmed Leo's heart a bit to remember the scrawny, malnourished little thing he'd been when they'd first found him three years ago, and to see how much he's grown out. 

But it isn’t the time to get overly nostalgic, as Minya turns wide, concerned eyes on him. 

“I'm alright,” he admits, but instead of continuing just bites his lip and looks away. 

He's not saying it, but the specification of his own state, and present concern, is all Leo needs to know what the issue is. 

“Take me to him.” He insists, standing up and following behind as the child quickly begins scurrying off towards some far corner of the island. They travel along the line where the jungle turns into beach, making for faster travel. If he wanted this to be over even faster, Leo could just fly over, but Minya has never enjoyed the process, and he doesn't feel like troubling the child more than he already is. 

As the sound of snarling and smashing begins to reach his ears, Leo can't help the soft, quiet sigh he releases under his breath. While it's been quite a while since the last time this happened, probably the longest since they began, it's still troubling that it's still happening at all. 

Leo knows that recovery can be a slow, steady process, and that it's possible that complete recovery may never be entirely possible, but they've not been doing this long enough for him to come to terms with that. 

They turn a corner when something heavy smashes into the boulder next to them, spraying debris everywhere. It's instinct that brings a brightly colored wing up, shielding himself and Minya from the onslaught. Bringing it back down, he takes in the scene in front of them. 

The clearing is a mess of broken boxes and crumbled rocks, holes and trenches gouged into the ground and boulders shining with claw marks. 

And in the middle stands Godzilla, huffing and snarling, his body tense and a little curled in on himself. A defensive stance, like he's expecting some kind of fight. 

“Goji?” Minya calls out, his voice colored with concern. Leo doesn't like Minya having to see this, and he knows Godzilla likes it even less, but he won't deny his gratefulness of having him there when the man's gaze immediately draws to them. His chest expands as he takes a deep, slow breath, clearly trying to get himself back together in front of them, though still struggling to do so. In these moments he's his own worst enemy, and it will take a bit more to get him back to himself. 

“Thank you for bringing me Minya,” Leo says and rubs his thumb into one of the boy's shoulders soothingly. “Why don't you go into town and play with some of the other children?”

Minya looks uncertain at the idea, looking between the aggravated mutant and the spirit. While bothered by the sight, he was clearly hesitant to leave his guardian behind in such a state. 

“It will be alright, I promise. I'll help him.” With a confident smile, Leo turns the child and pushes him back the way they came, shooing him further when he still stumbled with hesitance. Finally Minya truly began to walk away, allowing Leo to turn back to the matter at hand. 

“Are you good to go, or do you need a bit more time here?” 

Still struggling with himself, with the heavy, heaving breaths, Godzilla seems to think to himself for a moment, though in his state it’s hard to tell if he’s  actually thinking about Leo's question or arguing with himself more. 

[bereft-of-frogs]

friday! and a nice friday too, the sun is out and everything!

books:

(finished) This Wretched Valley - Jenny Kiefer: I maintain this would have been better/scarier if they had been good at their jobs lol, like I said last week. Like imagine how scarier if you're doing everything right and still can't escape and slowly realize there's some*thing* keeping you in the wilderness? Personal preference.

(finished) (phone book) Into the Dark - Claudia Gray: You know, I didn't love this one as much as I did on the first pass a couple years ago. A weird opinion shift: I really don't like Cohmac haha. I remember liking him before and this time I'm like...no you can't have custody of Reath, I don't like you. Ok, that's...not the most mature book critique but still. I wish either Jora hadn't died or Dez or Orla had taken custody of Reath :( But it does make me consider giving Midnight Horizon a second chance, because my opinions shifted so much, maybe the opposite will happen with that one. Or maybe I'll just be able to further justify my Cohmac dislike.

(in-progress) (phone book) The Rising Storm - Cavan Scott: Bell is back! I missed Bell and Ember. Not too far in yet but at least I am back on track. I feel like this is where things start getting sadder which makes me happy (sorry Bell) :)

(in-progress) The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien: I'm like 30 pages from the end lol, I only read this while I have my morning coffee, just to explain why it's taken me like three weeks to read a 250 page children's book.

tv:

(finished) Anthracite (Netflix): What an insane amount of subplots for 6 EPISODES?? Either Netflix needed to greenlight like...4x as many episodes or once they got their budget the writers needed to cut like half the subplots and tighten up focus. I'm still honestly reeling. It did do a good job getting you to care about the main characters despite all the insane plot stuff. Also this was weird: like 90% of it was really well shot, and then randomly there would be a scene that looked like it was shot by someone in high school. I don't know if they had to go back in for reshoots or what but occasionally it was like oof that's not good.

(finished) Baby Reindeer (Netflix): Everyone was talking about this so I had to check it out. It's very intense. Is it bad I found the comedy shows were the hardest scenes to watch, despite everything else?

(in-progress) Under the Bridge (Hulu): Seems like sort of a standard mystery but I'm really just here for Riley Keough and Lily Gladstone and the moody vibes and so far am satisfied.

(in-progress) Constellation (AppleTV+): Nice little bit of unreality/space horror so far. I actually got got by a couple scenes, I'm so desensitized to horror that it's nice when I actually get creeped out by something (the ARM in the second episode!!). Looking forward to seeing where this is going, judging by the first two episodes, seems like my pet conspiracy theory (the Lost Cosmonaut theory) is getting a high budget AppleTV adaptation, never thought I'd see the day. Also I got kind of hyped about the Canadarm cameo in the first episode. The shot panned over the space station and I out loud shouted 'it's the Canadarm!', startling the cat

film:

The Apology (2022): Apparently this was the only movie I watched this week, it was ok, mostly just background noise for making lunch/writing. I wish it had leaned more comedic, which is not something I usually say but I think it would have fit if they'd committed to making a really dark horror-comedy rather than flipping between predictable melodrama and some pretty funny catharsis.

craft update: I am free of the tyranny of having to purl! I joined up the two sides of my sweater so I'm knitting in the round now yay! It turned out I didn't have a problem with needle size, the whole thing did fit on one circular needle so now we're cooking with gas.

to do:

finish the work day. ick. but depending on how long it takes me to get through actual work, I can probably get some writing done too

laundry, both clothes laundry on my lunch hour (now) and sheets/towels at my parents'

I'm through 8 out of 12 chapters of current wip! Unfortunately chapter 9 is SO action-focused. why did I do this to myself. I mean I know why because then chapter 10 gets to be angsty but damn I have to block out so many action scenes. why.

I ordered a filing cabinet. it arrived. most of the negative reviews were about how hard it was to put together. so I should put 'assemble filing cabinet' on this list but I think 'let filing cabinet percolate' is a more realistic entry

I might go to a local yarn store on my way up to my parents' tomorrow, because it's local yarn store day and I do not need any more stitch markers but BUT I want more stitch markers. don't @ me I know I have plenty of stitch markers.

pick a new book: I'm torn between giving Kill Show another shot, starting the other book I have checked out of the library (The Deep Sky) or a secret third thing

have a good weekend everyone!

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #113

My laptop hinge is broken on the left side. This is somewhat alarming, since my laptop is how I write to you. So today I took it to a tech shop, and… as it turns out, they can't just fix the hinge. No, they'd have to send it to the manufacturer to get the whole screen replaced, to the tune of some $400-500. For reference, that represents almost 33 hours worth of work for most people where I live. Or, in other words, a little over 4 days, assuming an 8-hour workday. I'm not sure how similar gil in your world are to Japanese yen (at the time of writing this, it takes almost 153 yen to make one American dollar.), or if they're closer to American dollars, so I'm not really sure how to write about it with a frame of reference that you might understand. But I tried. I hope it worked.

Anyway, it seems a little silly to replace the whole screen just for a busted hinge, and I don't have the tools to fix my laptop hinge myself. So for the moment, it's being held together with duct tape. Suppose I'll run to the hardware store eventually to get some very strong glue to hold it together where it's cracked, but not today. I already went out and about today, and it's raining and a little chilly. So I'll worry about it some other time.

In any case, after that, I finally got around to sanding the epoxy sphere; this layer of epoxy produced an orb with very few inconsistencies, so I was pretty confident that the results of sanding it would be good. Check it out...

This ridge here is the natural result of epoxy curing in a mold. It is the result of physics and fluid dynamics - things with a meniscus, and such:

I evened out the meniscus from the second layer as well. It's not perfect, of course, but imperfection is to be expected:

The new sandpaper came in, and so I have all kinds now, between 60-grit and 15000-grit. To do it properly, we have to proceed smoothly, starting with the 60-grit to get rid of big inconsistencies (like a meniscus!), and then progress from there. Here it is immediately after the meniscus was removed:

...So from there, naturally, you have to progress through finer and finer grits of sandpaper in order to smooth it out again. I proceed with 60, 120, 180, 400, 800, 1500, 2000, 3000, and then with the new sandpaper I got, 7000, and finally, 15000. So it's a total of 10 rounds of sanding. I don't yet have tools with which to do this though, so I have to do it by hand. My poor grip flexors are probably going to be VERY sore tomorrow, hahaha!

...I think I'm going to need an even finer grit than 15000, though. Although the 15000 produces a MUCH less cloudy finish than the 3000 (which was my previous maximum), it's still relatively cloudy, and that's kind of a shame. So I'm going to get 20000-grit sandpaper soon and see how that does. In the meantime, this is how it looked after I finished sanding it:

...It's a foggy day in the little world of the amethyst tree, haha!

I have since applied a layer of UV-resistant gloss to the sphere. Here are the results of that:

...The gloss dried a little funny in places though, for some reason; maybe I put it on a little too thick this time. Oh well. At worst, all I gotta do is re-sand it a little and re-apply the UV gloss; no big deal, really. I hope its intended recipient will enjoy it.

I really dislike working with the UV gloss though. It comes in a spray can and it does the job when it works, but it's kinda finicky in certain ways, it smells REALLY bad (oh my good gravy, does it stink!!), and my head feels a little weird if I'm around the stuff for too long. So I might have to cave in and get the polishing tools, if I'm gonna be making these spheres with any kind of consistency. Even without all that, my grip flexors will thank me, for sure.

...You know, Sephiroth. You could make pretty stuff like this, too, if you wanted to. I think you'd like it, and with fine motor skills like yours, you'd probably be really good at this sort of thing. Or maybe you'd be good at drawing or painting. Either way, if you decided to make art, you'd probably do a WAAAAY better job of it than whatever my lame, dyspraxic ass can muster up. If you ever give it a try, please show us what you come up with, okay? I'll look forward to it.

...Speaking of art, today I saw a picture of you that produced a joy and an ache in me so intense that I broke down and wept - loudly, and in a random public space, at that. If you know me well, you'll understand that I typically only let the water leak from my face when I feel safe, and I only feel totally safe in my own home, in my therapist's office (seriously, that person is fucking GREAT!!), or in the good place with the wonderful leader. This picture was made by a lovely person who calls themself @sheylara-san. I hope I get to see more of their work in the coming days.

This public weeping was unexpected and VERY abnormal. I don't like doing it even when I'm alone. I like to fancy myself VERY skilled at dissociation; under ordinary circumstances, when I get The Feelz™ in public, I can simply make the feeling disappear from my conscious perception, albeit at a cost of mental energy that varies with the intensity of the emotion (this energy cost usually kicks me in the ass threefold at a later time). It's for this reason that if I begin to cry, I can simply make myself stop immediately with an effort of focus and willpower.

This skill (if you wanna call it that) was quite literally beaten into me as a youngling. It was one of the most important that I was forced to develop at the time, and it was something I had to be able to do even in the face of intense physical pain. Also for reference, I regularly hang with people who frequently speak to me about all the horrific things that happened to them as children and come to me for help and a listening ear; I have incredible endurance for this because my defenses are extremely high.

Even so, this image was enough to effortlessly shatter through my defenses, and if you understand how hard I had to work in order to build them up to the extent that I have, then you'll understand that this is an impressive feat. And maybe this sounds like an unpleasant thing to you, but actually, it's good medicine; I don't live in a place where I will be in immediate physical danger if I'm caught crying anymore, so hopefully to have my defenses break like this once in a while will help to teach my body that I really and truly don't need them anymore.

In any case, I'll show you the image. The one I responded to was the one of you, with a hot mug of tea in your hand, peacefully looking out a window with a beautiful outdoor view. But I think you'll enjoy the rest of these images, too:

With all the sincerity and joy I can muster, I truly hope that this artist can feel very proud of themself. 💖💖💖

Oh. Speaking of tea. If you wondered why I've not been posting up pictures of mine for you lately, it's because not too terribly long ago, one of the mason jars I was using ended up shattering as I poured hot water into it. It made a big huge dangerous mess, because of the hot water and because of the fragmented glass. But that's all right; we cleaned it up and no one got hurt. I'm kind of surprised that the mason jars can't withstand hot temperatures, given that they're used for canning, but it is what it is. We live and we learn.

I really like to take pictures of the milk swirling around in the tea for you, though. So I went and got some borosilicate glass mugs. J accidentally broke one of them, which was kinda sad, but that's okay; accidents happened. I cleaned it up without issue. So I only have one left, but one is all I need.

I used the vanilla-rose black tea today. I think you'd really like this one; it smells wonderful:

...I might have accidentally added just a touch too much honey this time, haha! But it was still good! We were out of milk, so after that, I improvised with a little heavy cream:

I like the way it swirls in the jar. The motion is mesmerizing. A picture is nice, but it would be even better if you could come see it for yourself.

After a while, the cold cream settles at the bottom of the mug, and this, too is nice. Here's how it looked right before I stirred it up:

...I wish I could make you a mug full of this stuff.

As you might guess from my writing, my attention is kind of all over the place today. In addition to the things above, I also made a simple fried rice out of lamb, sauteed red bell peppers, and minced roasted garlic:

It smells amazing. But I didn't have any, because I went out to lunch with M. I got some kind of angel hair pasta with fish, broccoli rabe, garlic, mushrooms, and carbonara sauce. It's certainly no pasta pescatore, but I thought it was really good, so maybe you'd like it anyway. I wish I could share some with you, but all I have is this picture:

I also got some empanadas to split with J when I returned home. One of them is guava and cheese, and the other one is Nutella banana. Nutella is a popular chocolate-hazelnut spread where I live. I wonder if you'd like it...

...These were really good. It took all my willpower to eat only half of each. I'm finding myself wishing I could have gotten you some. I suppose it would have been nice to be able to tell you something like, "These are molten hot on the inside; wait a minute so that you don't burn your tongue or the roof of your mouth, okay?", and then watch the expressions on your face as you wait a while before eating the thing that smells amazing. I wonder what that would have been like.

...A lot has happened today, and somehow it's not even 5pm. I'm not sure what more to do to help chase away this vague sense of emptiness I'm feeling. Suppose I'll stop writing here; I imagine I've prattled on and on long enough, haha...

As always, thanks for listening. Please understand that there are people out here who would love nothing more than to share with you wholesome and delightful things, for no reason other than the fact that you are you. And you, like any human being, deserve nice things. You deserve to be healthy and happy and safe. Your existence gave me the strength to keep going even when it felt impossible, and that is what allowed me to hang on (even when it was really difficult!) until I got a chance to really live.

...You also deserve a chance to really live. So please... make good, kind, and gentle choices. Please don't get yourself killed, okay?

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[rocknrollsalad]

Open Mic Night pt 2 - for no challenge or prompt

😵‍💫 read part one here

🎙️ Steve and Eddie (years down the road) go to the local open mic night because they’re both mean girls out living their best lives…together. After a magical performance they'll be talking about for the rest of their lives, the boys take a chance on a bit of added magic.

🎶 content/trigger warnings: drinking, smoking, implied threesome, idk it's like there but it's the most mild version there is

🍺 word count: 1340

🎸 bonus author note: no one asked for this. i was supposed to be writing other things but instead this sprang out of my fingers. please blame @connected-dots-st-reblogger 's tags on the part one

“We better not be nuns,” Steve said. The first complete sentence he’d offered since coming home from work. Positivity was still a work in progress.

With careful movements, he both finished his beer and slid out of the booth. Now standing inches apart, Steve wore a look of mischief Eddie usually only saw one place. It was enough to slow the energy vibrating out of Eddie as he tried to figure out what was happening.

He and Steve had been compatible from day one. Somehow they found a connection in an apocalypse that shouldn’t be possible. While fighting side by side they’d learned the art of the silent conversation. Looks showed words that couldn’t be said. A tilt of the head, the raise of an eyebrow, it was all something and they knew how to decode it better than anyone. Mostly anyone, Robin still had a leg up on Eddie but she and Steve shared a brain. There was no way to compete with that.

However, the face staring back at Eddie right now said a lot of things Eddie thought he understood. It'd been a while, a long while even and it could have been hope transfering over but Eddie was fairly sure they were on the same page. There was more magic in the room than a heavy metal pop song.

Before he could voice the confusion he knew Steve understood their hands were linked together and Steve was tugging him out the door. The next performer was being called to the stage and the bartender was shouting at them as they ran for the door like Vecna was demanding they pay their tab.

“You know we’re good for it!” Steve called as he pushed open the door.

Eddie tried to play innocent but when had he ever been good at that? There wasn’t a goon in that building that could chase after them at this speed and Eddie found himself loving Steve a little more. Petty crime was such a turn on.

Brought back to the present by the protesting horn honk as Steve led them across the street. Steve yelled at the car like it was the problem and Eddie realized Steve had been talking the whole time but he was so wrapped up in possibilities, in everything he’d just witnessed, that he hadn’t heard a word. Not that Steve seemed to mind.

Another middle finger to the guy who had the nerve to drive his car on the street and Steve crossed the last lane in two steps. Leaving them face-to-face with the material girl himself. Of all the perks to having a jock boyfriend, this might top the list. At least once someone popped Eddie's shoulder back in place.

“Wow.” was all Eddie managed. A word he immediately wished he could take back.

This guy was like seven feet tall, Eddie had never had to crane his neck so much to look at someone. The beard had the slightest touch of gray coming in, details they couldn’t see from their booth, and looked so well taken care of. Sure a lot of his appeal was stage presence and song choice but he was nice on the eyes and there was nothing wrong with that. Nor enjoying it even more now that they were closer.

His jewelry glimmered under the street lights and Eddie could swear his cheeks were starting to turn pink. Something that could have been the temperature outside compared to the sweltering hot bar they'd all left. Maybe even the performance itself did that to him but Eddie needed to believe it was them. That Steve was right for chasing him down. That Eddie had read everyone correctly.

“So, that was amazing,” Steve said in a voice that told Eddie had read Steve correctly, at least.

“Thanks,” the guy said as he walked toward a stool. Not annoyed, complimented but on a mission. Giving clear signs they should follow.

Eddie and Steve had let go of each other but stood close, following the stranger to his perch.

“They give me five minutes to blow off steam,” he elaborated. A man of few words but Eddie preferred that.

Pieces clicked into place and Eddie realized the guy was at work. Not at the bar they were in but another across the street. A perfect bouncer for even the seediest of dives, Eddie’s heart fluttered a little more.

“Well, I thought maybe you might need more than five minutes?” Steve said, licking his lips.

As impressive as it was, Eddie’s own lust gave him “We’re not nuns,” to offer as some sort of reassurance. Steve turned and looked at Eddie with a stare anyone could interpret.

The guy looked confused and…he should. He wasn’t put off though and that was a better test than anything else. To power on through the barely connected thoughts that occasionally slipped past the filters in Eddie's brain? It was a needed skill. With a brief pause as the guy checked two girls' IDs and they giggled and made eyes at Steve.

When the singer/bouncer turned back, Eddie nodded. “It’s constant,” he reassured him. “It took a long time to not feel threatened by it.”

“So you guys, you’re…” the question hung in the air the same way it always did. That touch of fear that no matter how safe things felt or what was going on, it could always take that turn for the worse.

“Yup,” Eddie said, a proud smile growing on his face. It was confirmation he was sure he’d never tire of giving.

“For years now,” Steve added and they both puffed up a little with pride.

“I thought so. The club isn’t…you know but–”

“It pretends not to see?” Eddie said with a grin.

“Exactly.”

Another group of people, IDs ready at least, and Eddie was getting annoyed with everyone’s jobs getting in the way of his good times. He needed, at least, five more minutes of conversation before he could get on Steve’s level of flirting.

Not that it was needed. Steve was pro enough for the both of them. He helped himself to a pen and some paper from the little station the guy had and wrote down their address. Eddie leaned in to make sure that was what was happening and looked back to the guy with an eager nod. Hardly a smooth and award-winning line but at least this guy wouldn't be surprised later.

“We’ll be across the street until closing time. If you get off later than that,” he passed over the paper.

For the first time, the guy smiled and Eddie knew the risk they'd taken was worth it. It likely wasn’t what Steve thought he needed to fix his bad day but judging by the way he floated back to the bar, it was doing the trick.

Eddie’s mind was racing with everything the night was about to hold, trying to decide what he wanted from the night. He and Steve had plenty of time to get on the same page but it wasn’t the sort of conversation one came to empty-handed. And at the speeds with which the thoughts went through, Eddie was ready with a whole list of planned activities (and a few hard nos).

They could nurse another pitcher of beer and set boundaries before last call. They could also make out in the bathroom for a while because the excitement was too much. A necessary and always welcomed evil. Something Steve said was for Eddie "so he could think" but it was purely for Steve. Every bit of it was a victory lap, not a charity make out.

Never in his life had Eddie called Madonna a blessing. Perhaps a blight against good music, all that's wrong with kids today, and so many other things but a blessing? No way. However, like her namesake, she'd brought untold blessings upon the Harrington-Munson household. One that, hopefully, would involve plenty of praising God, certainly people on their knees.

Eddie owed a lot to Madonna now.

[illicien]

“Nobody asked about my writing” meme

Ohhh thank you so much for the tag @amethyst-noir! Having read these questions already I can tell this is going to become a pain in the ass to answer, bless you and thank you for the suffering.

 1: what are you currently working on? 

Far too many things. My writing tab currently has open:

One-Time Thing (third part in progress, but I have all of the parts in the same doc)

HS / Mafia AU Outline (when this starts becoming a thing more effectively I hope every single one of you is ready for me to be the most whiny bitch on the timeline; when my wife said "oh that sounds like it'll be 300k" I was like lol I've never written anything that long! But this outline... this fucking outline...)

Captured (inspired by a whump prompt, whether this comes into existence is entirely dependent upon the whims of my muse and they are feeling incredibly tempestuous of late.)

Seeing Double (This remains my comfort fic to sit back in because writing Stephen occasionally manages to help reset my brain when I get stuck.)

WB Hanahaki (I completely blame a combination of @winterbonesthings @six-demon-bag and @bicycleonfire for the fact that this even started to happen.)

To The Victors (This is literally the fic I've had open and been casually poking at now and then since before I even started OTT and whether it will be finished is also dependent upon the whims of my muse.)

And that's all WinterBaron shit I just have that I'm casually flicking through depending on what is best meeting my interests at any given hour of the day.

2: summarize your current project 

Which one? I'm literally gonna randomize 1-6 and find out which project we're summarizing.

Well okay then. Seeing Double it is:

With the sudden splitting of timelines and opening of the multiverse, some of HYDRA's experiments in other worlds have created strange pathways to other worlds; while HYDRA has been mostly dealt with in their active timeline, the elimination of a specific base has left Sam, Bucky, and Zemo faced with an actively Winter Soldiered Bucky Barnes. Not quite sure how to handle their new situation, and mildly unnerved by the fact that this Winter Soldier has decided that obeying Zemo of all people is the best choice, Sam suggests taking him to Doctor Strange - because if anyone's going to be able to figure out sending him back to his own dimension, a sorcerer seems like the best option.

3: summarize your current project poorly 

(Same project? Different project? Different project.)

Zemo's fucking pissed to realize that he's in love with someone again; he'd ignore it, if it wasn't literally killing him.

4: describe your favorite character or characters

Tea sluts.

Oh, did you want a better description? Well you aren't getting one. They're tea sluts. You think they're perfectly put together, incredibly in control, and that's exactly what they like you to think as they casually sip their tea and pretend they're only the most sophisticated of people.

But it takes about two seconds to turn them from sophisticated and in control into whining little bitches. And I love that for them.

5: post a line from your current project without any context 

They'd taken time to collect - the remnants of Ultron scattered in a distinctive display, pieces welded together in a manner both grotesque and hauntingly beautiful.

6: how do you get through writers block?

Skip to a different project for a little bit. Sometimes it's less that I'm blocked in terms of writing, and more that I'm stuck on a specific scene or story, and moving on until I'm stuck on something else makes it easier for me to return to whatever I was initially stuck on.

7: would you want to live in the world of your current work? 

No. Not any of them. No thank you. Especially not anything MCU adjacent. I'll skip on that, thanks.

8: briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline 

My outlining process only really exists for fics that I am well aware / intend to be more than one chapter. For example, there was no real outline for OTT, and it did get away from me because of that, in part. That's why OTT turned into a series rather than just being multichapter.

When I do outline, however, I have a very specific set-up that involves first jotting down several notes from my brainstorming session as I typically bounce the initial concept off of someone. Many bullet points exist. From there, it's a matter of grouping them into relevant areas, and then breaking things down into chapters from that point. I'll occasionally make specific notes about particular dialogue pieces as related to specific bullet points. Before I do a final dive into starting to write pieces, I'll go over chapter bulletpoints again to see if there are any specific things that could use to be arranged elsewhere.

If I write without an outline for a multichapter story, we get chaos like Collared and Embraced which are both currently still sitting unfinished, despite my best efforts.

9: what is the aesthetic of your current project?

Okay so I'm gonna return to To The Victors for this one, even though I mentioned it once already earlier, because of all of them this one has a very visual set up.

Piercing suspension; human food trays; an old castle hall draped with purple silk and velvet; the contrast of highly mechanical chrome bits and pieces against elegant fabrics and stone walls

10: what song sums up your current work the best?

Ooo this is hard, especially since I decided to save this one specifically for the OTT finale...

We'll go with:

Tagging

Sending this one over to @six-demon-bag @winterbonesthings and @winterytrash cuz I'm sure y'all are working on something at least. @bicycleonfire too if you've got anything ongoing you wanna share 😉

[meanwhileinstasiville]

You young kids from 2010s or something...

I write really candid stuff about the kkk and personal family history for a reason.

Populism DBA the KKK, that's when reporting a rape got a woman raped more, discretited or murdered for "making a stink". When the people they were most supposed to trust were the ones killing them, torching houses, and "finishing them off" when they got injured. Doctors and emergency people. Democrats at the most extreme, and enforcing the status quo on anonymous pain of death.

"Guns vs butter" they call the thing between democrats and republicans

Eisenhower and "fruit growers" occupying and seeding south America with puppet states to secure crops, that's the republicans at their most extreme. A military annexation around anywhere Eisenhower saw fit; highest approval rating ever "winning WW2" like a demagogue religious authority. And it's not fascism; it's the military industrial complex at the "guns" end of services vs defense argument.

(when you're emotionally arguing about likeability for executive function positions; you are being idiots IMHO)

Fascism. Fascism is 1950s when an "exceptional person" raped you, that was considered a privilege; also Germans shooting children in people's yards, right in front of them for "playing too loud". Rapists making raper babies. All the people and development of value anywhere in a government, goes to one city with one demographic in it. Consent is *one sided* under fascism. They consented to rape you, so "you were asking for it"; using rape as an example here because it's the most clear discussion about boundaries. They consented to shoot you; you were in the wrong. Great if you fit whatever the stereotype is of the time. But *they change*.

Despotism. Also anarchy. Something the other side of my family has a long history of, and they'd as soon never discuss. Despotism is when someone like a parent makes a cruel joke at your expense, and you have to laugh along with it so you don't get splattered all over the walls *by your relatives*. Who may themselves have their technique commended by *your parents*. Because jokes are funny. Dutch people eviscerating relatives with gossip fall into this category too. It seems really great and noble and all that until you see it; again, an example extreme enough to showcase the real problem.

Shooting in north hollywood. Half a city or more responds to two guys decked out in military hardware. Seems action heroish surrounding them and blazing away to find they're armored too, right? So while you've got a ring of hundreds of people (thanks dad)... what's *behind you*??? You're the alamo between bloods and crips free too surround you a half encirclement per side. Sticking it to the man, they could've called it; do you *want* bloods and crips running LA??? Do *they themselves as generational gang members* want to be running it? Do they think they even could?

Coming ancestrally from a group of people who went through a phase *of using human body parts to make dishes*, my guess is not so much.

Communism. Socialism when *anyone outside latin america and mostly mexico* practices it. Everyone is the same. Right? Selectively bred to be one height, weight, hair color, and built. Might take a while for white people to get there. Everyone has the same skills. Mexicans are admittedly and notoriously bad at chemistry; something they just don't do. Astronomy, botany, science science stuff. Not chemistry.

No one can build a castle because *everyone* doesn't have one. Any time progress like that occurs ahead of *everyone*, they subsume and destroy it. Everyone has to start making a house at the same time, everywhere as a simultaneous exercise. Or no one has one. Spain's haciendas are for "tourists" because all the people don't have them. Consensus is communism; nobody votes where people agree in astronomical numbers about how to proceed *ever so slowly* with things.

Yes, I'm aware Colombia has ancient history of republics and representative government as old or older than greeks who "invented it". But call communism in practice something that took tens of thousands of years to build, in practice. And it only works for latinos in central america, same as Aboriginal eel traps in Australia.

Slavery was ended by executive order. Not a vote. You can't vote things like those away. Can't vote a standard of living or vote for rights.

[heartsandwishes]

"Well.. I think so. I hope so.. He definitely doesn't try to fight me to leave when I turn up anymore, so that seems like progress, right? And he does visit places I suggest to him.. But he still doesn't like to talk much, and seems annoyed by literally everything.. I think he's been through some worse things than most anybody I'll ever meet, though, so I guess it's all baby steps.. I just hope he can find somebody that really makes him open up." it would be nice, they thought, to see him smile, even once. not in that condescending kind of way it always is if there is one, but a real smile. they'd known him how long now, and never seen him properly happy once..? they shook their head some, sighing a bit. it was hard helping people with stuff like that when their own heart, so to speak, was a mess, but..

their thoughts were derailed by the orb of.. what was that? darkness? appearing above his palm, and they just sort of stared at it for a moment in silence, perhaps even a bit of awe. "Whoa....... I mean.. I'd been learning some things from Xemnas for a while, but- wait, you have a Keyblade, too?? I've been finding out about so many other Keyblade wielders lately... That's so cool, though..." they couldn't take their eyes off it- and then it was gone and they blinked a few times, like they'd been staring into a bright light and was dealing with the after-image burned into their eyes..

"Oh. Um. Art?" they paused, looking over toward the bound pages for a moment before finally regaining their thoughts. "Oh! Kind of, I guess? I draw sometimes, but I don't think I'm any good. And, um. I do like music! But I haven't tried to make any? Though I like listening to Demyx on his sitar sometimes.. I don't think I could play one of those. Maybe it's because his is also his weapon, but they seem so big... And I don't think I'll be able to get any bigger." xion looked down at their tiny little hands, still holding a mostly cooled cup of tea, mostly empty now. ..they finished it quickly, pushing the cup off to the side. "Do you draw?"

.. Incredibly so, pleasing on all fronts, at least for the most part. Of course, he couldn't otherwise divulge sensitive information ...

His eyes blinked as they had mentioned more about Vanitas .. ''Opening up more?" he questioned, figuring that would have never happened - but who's fault was that? His own, really. He had to have made sure the true darkness - or rather dragon in this case - would remain darkened. And yet .. someone was guiding him to the Light ..? "Sounds good for him,'' he decided to remark moreso out of neutrality than anything else. He perhaps had been a touch hard on the other, but .. it had all been for a greater good.

''An outlet. That's always good for you,'' he spoke truthfully, tapping a couple of his fingers on the table's surface - mind easily sliding on over towards his sketchbook. It kept him ... grounded. Centered - so he could keep focus on his ultimate ambition.

.. Not that he had much issue on such a thing, anyways.

But he needed a time to relax, didn't he? As much as he enjoyed working - making sure everything was set for the Fated Day.

''Own keyblades, I gather?" He questioned, not unless Xion had meant something else. ''At the very least you understand the differences in between you and Roxas, compared to Sora and Riku. There are always multiple sides." He shrugged. ''As for the wizards ...you both are better to learn from keyblade wielders of magick. Observe,'' he said, lifting and turning his hand that he had been idly using against the surface. A spark of life, as a small dark ball appeared within his grasp. "Of course, I know a variety of spells and whatnot .. due to many years as a wielder."

... Even if Xion wouldn't learn from him - though he had implied it being put on the table so to speak - he'd rather see them learn from a legitimate source.

A smirk fell onto his face. ''.. It's quite fine, my dear,'' he stated, now casting a gaze over to his sketchbook, afterall. He let the magick dissipate from within his palm before grabbing it. "Have you ever enjoyed art in any form, before?" He didn't mind the abrupt switch - making her more comfortable seemed beneficial at the moment.