#and so far I haven't had the spoons to get all of them done

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.4 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all.

You whine trying to chase after the ball as Astarion was tugging you back to him to check your measurements. You pout as you finally stand still. “Hells, even a cat does better at holding still. “ He sighs before slipping on your new outfit. “There, how does it fit?” He steps back watching you admire the new outfit made. “It fits me better!” You smile, finally you could stretch without hurting your limbs from how tight your old outfit was. You go to chase the ball but once again the pale elf stops you “Please don’t create holes in your new outfit” He sighs before letting you go off.  Karlach walks over “Seems like the little soldier is growing up.” She smiles watching you play off with the ball in camp. “Well obviously, they're Dhampir. Very different from humans and vampires.” He crossed his arms looking at the one horned woman. “So free spirited…do you think we can contain their blood lust?” She whispers as you were near them playing. Astarion thinks on the subject. Even he was shocked to see the bunny in pieces. “ I don’t know, that is why I am reading this book…it should be…possible since they have a human side…we just have to be patient…” He says slowly. He wasn’t even confident in his answer. “It all depends how strong our little soldier is,” Karlach smiles, keeping a positive attitude. Astarion nods and thought, ‘yes it all depends on them’ 

Night came, everyone was in the fire waiting for Gale’s cooking to be done. You look around hearing the Owl hoot but you weren’t hearing their whoo but rather how their blood pumps. Tav was watching you before gently nudge Astarion. He looks over to them before seeing Tav move their eyes towards (Y/N). He looks over to you and where you were looking before calling out your name “(Y/N) foods almost ready, look” He tries to distract you. Tav smiles seeing you and Astarion make small talk, each word flowing out of his mouth made your eyes shine with glee. The pale elf stops and gets up holding your hand. Everyone else stood up seeing the blade of Frontiers in their camp. You tried to peek around Astarion before he pushed you back “Stay back.” He mutters. After finally convincing Wyll that Karlach was no threat, everyone was back in their spot around the campfire eating the meal Gale had prepared. You look at the bowl in front of you before pushing it aside. “You need to eat” Astarion pushes the bowl back into your hands. You shake your head “No!” You whine. 

Wyll looks over “ I find it odd that a vampire spawn is looking after a child.” He smiles looking at you fighting Astarion with the bowl. Tav looks up “It’s not really…(Y/N) isn’t exactly Human either…or …a vampire spawn…” They began. Wyll looks over to them. “Oh? What can this little adorable apple be?” He smiles. “For the love of…just tell the monster hunter.” Astarion huffs feeling annoyed as you reject the spoon in your mouth. “They are a Dhampir” Tav broke the news as Wyll stopped midway with the spoon in his mouth. “ I beg your pardon…” He says looking back at you seeing the spoon being shoved gently in your mouth with the help of Gale holding you still. “ A Dhampir ... .never in my life haunting…I would ever come across such a creature…an adorable one as well.” He walks over to you, taking a look. “Watch it, they are not some artwork” Astarion mutters, placing you in his lap and kept feeding you. Keeping you away from Wyll. 

The day has risen and you were happily bouncing around holding on to Tav as you were included in the group. Astarion threw a fit, not wanting to leave you alone with Wyll and Gale who were going to be left behind. So here you were, admiring the wilderness before looking over and hearing some shouting in the distance. “I told you this is better if (Y/N) joins us when we won’t be battling the globins to rescue this stupid Halsin guy. Gale is so irresponsible and Wyll, don’t get me started” Astarion huffs. Shadowheart turns around but stops “We lost them….” She sighs.  Tav turns around “(Y/N)?” They call out before walking around trying to find you before seeing you standing in front of a wooden cage that had Lae’zel inside. “Don’t ever leave our side” Tav looks over to you before walking forward to speak with Lae’zel. Astarion walks over and holds your hand. “Don’t ever walk off ever again! You do know this goes on the possibility of letting you join in our adventures.” He looks at you. “But I heard yelling so I wanted to check it out.” You pout only for Astarion to sigh “You are a big headache you know that?” He mutters holding your hand letting Tav handle the situation with Lae’zel.

After not getting a please from Lae’zel, everyone was back at camp. Gale was cooking as always, everyone else was doing their own thing. You were walking around the camp, collecting even more flowers. You were collecting them near Lae’zel’s camp “Istik, come here” She called out. You walk over holding your flowers staying quiet. “What are you, are you also a vampire Spawn?” Her eyes look at yours. “No…I’m a Dhampir.” You meekly whisper. “Chk, a Dhampir.” She says “Listen here Istik, if you ever take one bite off of me. I will show you what a blade does” She threatens. You only tear  up and ran off running to Astarion who was busy talking to Tav, “Astarion!” You yelled, hugging his leg. “What’s the matter?” He looks down at you and picks you up. “She! She!” You only hiccup, not able to form complete sentences. “Come out now, I am no mind reader.” Tav rubs your back “ What’s wrong?” They whisper. “She threatened me…” You whisper, laying your chubby cheek on Astarions shoulder. Tav looks over to where you were pointing. “ I see, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll talk to her.” They pat your head and walk off. Astarion huffs “Oh please, she only did so because she was scared of you. She knows you’re powerful…even I know your strength ... .so does Cazador.” He whispers and rubs your back. “I think it’s time we eat and then we’ll sleep for the night?” He plants soft kisses to the side of your head and he stops. What the hells was that for? Why did he do that? He looks down at you only to see you smile clinging on to him. Watching Shadowheart and Lae’zel argue with each other,  Tav tries to keep the peace between the two. He smiles, planting one more on your head and walks over to the campfire.

[baohanhanesel]

Mom of the TF141

Mentioned: Simon Ghost Riley, John Soap Mactavish, Kyle Gaz Garrick, Captain John Price.

It was the fact you knew how to comfort each one of them. They loved some homemade goods after a bad mission. The freshly bandages wounds, aching pain and the headaches were best cured with homemade lentil soup and homemade meatballs with potatoes. You knew they didn't remember the last time they had a homemade meal. So you took the opportunity and comforted them with it.

Ghost liked to be silent while he ate the goods and after that he'd disappear to his room to rest for the day. You'd make sure to send him a bowl of the biscuits you baked so he has snacks to munch at night if he can't sleep.

Soap was the type of guy to talk everything out and you'd listen. You'd listen to him tell you about everything in his mind mission related or not. Most of the time it wouldn't be mission related, he would just want to move on quite fast. You'd sit across from him, see him down the second plate while he talked. He'd occasionally get tired of stuffing his mouth and talking so you had to do a bit of talking as well. "You say so?" "That sounds interesting." "Oh wow. I haven't seen you talk about that before!" "Johnny..." "What? For real? What happened after that?"

Gaz sometimes had tears in the corner of his eyes while he stuffed his mouth shut with a spoonful of lentil soup. He'd never let them fall, not before you gave him the flag to do so. "Kyle, it is fine. You are fine." You wouldn't mention his tears while he ate, or when he decided to talk to you about the mission and how it could have been successful. You could see he valued your words a lot. And that made you feel special, as special as you were for him.

Price was the grumpy type. He had the furrowed eyebrows until he started to eat. After he got that done, he'd soften a bit but you'd still notice the subtle anger in him. You knew at those times joking wasn't a way out, so you just gave his shoulders a pat. "You did everything you could have, John. You know you did." If he denied so, you'd hush him. "No talking back. Why don't you go lay down?" He wouldn't be against the idea if it came from you. He trusted you and the comfortable warmth your words made him feel was indescribable. He could never put a word on it.

It was the fact they all respected you a shit ton. A recruit badmouthing you or even talking to you as an equal? They were very quick to jump at them.

Ghost would glare at first, cursing them in his head for thinking they are your equal. They were not. They didn't have the right to think you were like the others in the base. You were much more important. You were a warmth he never thought that was left in this hellhole of a world. If they went as far as to insult you, he would threaten the recruit behind your back. Grabbing the back of their throat and whispering in a deadly tone. That they were nothing other than a piece of shit on the sidewalk and they would better remember their place before Ghost would teach them where it was. Every time without an exception you'd never see that recruit look into your eyes ever again.

Soap threw a dirty look, asking the recruit overwhelming tons of questions and humiliating them. If they thought they were your equal that was embarrassing. Soap would make them realize how embarrassing they were by asking questions. "Ohh name three times you calmed down an angry Captain after a 48 hour mission." "Name me one time you walked up to Ghost and got him to talk." If they insulted you, it was nothing but a fist straight into their face. No warnings. Nothing. Just a good punch. After that? That recruit wouldn't be seen anywhere within your eye range.

Gaz would openly say they were stupid for thinking of themselves as your equal. He would give them many reasons why they are not. When he witnessed someone insulting you? He rolled his sleeves and prepared his fists but never got to attack the recruit before they ran away. Gaz didn't waste his time tracking the fucker down. He would have. If you hadn't stopped him and told him the recruit was just a rookie.

Price would lecture the recruits. "This woman right here saw more blood than any of you did. She saw more dead bodies than more people you got to know in your pathetic lives." There was no stopping him if he started his lecture already. He wouldn't stop without seeing the shame on the soldier's faces. You would try stopping him though, even if you knew he wouldn't. When would you not try? When he heard you get insulted by someone. That was off limits for you because you knew he saw red when it happened. He'd get very scary with the strict voice and if necessary a collar grab. He'd only calm down after seeing tears in the recruit's eyes or hear their babbles of apologies. If he could fire soldiers for disrespecting you, he would. But he was a smart man and instead of giving up on a lost cause he'd just bend them into manners with more force.

It was the time you called them your boys. It was a calm evening and they had made you so happy, talking and joking peacefully with each other. Seeing them so good and well mannered with one another had made you so happy back then you called them your boys. "I am so happy my boys are so good with one another. Wouldn't change anything for your team bond."

Ghost paused, looking at you in disbelief. He felt a huge crash in his heart and a huge smile on his face matching it. He didn't remember the last time he got this emotional over being mentioned before. He was a grown man, for fuck's sake. He didn't say anything and only kept joking around with the way you said it. Your phrase made him realize that he was one of your boys indeed and that he has been seeing you as his mother figure.

Soap laughed so damn loudly. "Yeah? Seeing our lady happy makes me damn happy." He would get next to you and hug you. As much as he tried to seem he was cool and he totally wasn't affected with the way you called them your boys he was affected horribly. He was so damn happy that you saw him as your boy. He had made peace with the idea in his head before, the idea that you were a mother figure for him. So hearing you say that so casually made him feel like a little child.

Gaz felt his cheeks flush. He was embarrassed. He didn't think hearing that from you could get him this embarrassed, but it had. He wanted to hear you say it again but he would rather dig himself a hole than to ask that of you. He already had a hard time not calling you mom, you were making it very hard for him to not make that mistake. Granted if he accidentally called you mom, he'd disappear for a few days to process what he just did.

Price smiled lovingly. Looking you in the eyes with admiration in them. He admired you so much. You were a brave motherly woman and for him you meant a lot. Hearing you say "My boys" got him so happy you had no idea. He had always seen this team as a family, and you not speaking otherwise gave him the flag to freely call you "mom" even as a joke. You'd take the joke well, that much he knew it. He thought of you as a comforting mother since the day you got close with him. Your smile, your words and your pats on the shoulder. You made him want to cry because of how comfortable you made him feel.

[electrikworm]

Aches and Pains

Relationships: Echo & Wrecker

Content Warnings: beside some self-deprecation, this doesn't really need warnings.

Summary:

Wrecker wakes up to his chronic pain flaring up badly. Echo, who's taking a day off on Pabu, forces Wrecker to do the same.

Written for @augustofwhump Day 5: Ache

I only noticed halfway through writing this that Echo wouldn't be on Pabu at the time, so lets all just pretend it makes sense for him to be there, taking a day off.

Word count: 1,627

Read on Ao3

Over the years, Wrecker's learnt to tell what kind of day it's going to be just by waking up. When he opens his eyes and is hit with the realization that he can barely sit up, he knows it's bad, that his body isn't going to play along today. Wrecker has to roll onto his side to get up, relying on his arms to carry his weight. He still doesn't manage to do so without sending a sharp spike of pain down his spine. Wrecker just sits there a moment, not wanting to stand up. His hips ache just as bad as his back. They thankfully haven't got a job planned, but Wrecker had hoped to help out with Pabu's rebuilding. He can't imaging being much help, though he might be able to force some useful work out of his body. White-knuckled grip on the rack above the one he was on, Wrecker gets himself upright. One hand rubbing at his lower back, the other pinching his hip, Wrecker looks for his vode. None of them are still asleep, so Wrecker's up late. Guilt settles heavily in his stomach.

Wrecker rubs a hand across his face. Maybe once he's got some caffeine in himself he'll be able to function better. He fills himself a mug of caff from the pot his brothers must have made.

They almost never have fresh milk, but usually, they stock the dehydrated kind. They ran out a while ago and still haven't come around to buying more. It's not that Wrecker minds black caff, he's just never in the mood for it when he already feels bad. Shep might have milk, dehydrated or fresh, but Wrecker isn't walking that many flights of stairs for it.

Instead, he just puts far too much sugar in his cup. If Crosshair were here, he'd make a stupid joke about it. But he isn't. That thought makes Wrecker frown, so he drops another spoonful of sugar in his caff. If the caffeine doesn't lift his mood, maybe the sugar will.

Descending the steps out of the Marauder wreaks havoc on Wrecker's knees, additionally sending shock waves of pain up his spine. Wrecker feels miserable, weak. He hasn't had a day this bad in ages, not without putting strain on his body to land it in such a state.

Across the plaza, Wrecker spots Echo sitting by the central tree. Echo waves, so Wrecker changes course to join him. Wrecker tries to speed up his pace, not wanting to show off exactly how worn he feels.

Taking longer than Wrecker would have liked, he sits down next to his older brother. It hurts his knees to do so and Wrecker isn't sure if he'll be able to get back up, but sitting is a whole lot better than standing.

“Morning.” Wrecker mumbles, taking a sip of his too sweet caff. Echo nods. He has a mug in his hand too. “Sleep alright?”

Echo shrugs. “Could have been better.” He cracks his neck, stretching his limbs. “You?”

“I'm fine.” Wrecker musters a smile. He isn't going to bother Echo with his problems, though he's done so before. Certain similarities can be drawn between them, both bearing large scars, having hearing issues and reoccurring aches and pains.

But Wrecker always feels guilty for comparing himself to Echo, for complaining about his own issues to the ARC. Echo's been through hell and back, been a prisoner of war, tortured and used by the Techno Union. And despite all that, Echo still manages to keep going. If anyone's earned the right to complain, it's Echo.

Wrecker shouldn't be complaining to him. Wrecker hasn't lost limbs, or been held captive by the enemy for months. Wrecker has it easy, but still manages to be useless time and time again.

Not today though, Wrecker's not going to let anyone down.

“You sure?” Echo ask, placing his cup down to put his hand on Wrecker's shoulder. “You look a little rough.”

Wrecker stops himself from glaring at his brother. It's not Echo's fault he's in an awful mood and even worse at hiding it. Wrecker's teeth grind against each other as he clenches his jaw.

“I'm fine.”

Wrecker can feel Echo giving him a suspicious side eye without having to look at him. “If you say so.”

Taking a big sip from his caff, Wrecker gets a mouthful of undissolved sugar. He thought he stirred it well enough, but he'd failed even that.

“What're you drinking?” Omega's voice makes Wrecker jump. He hadn't even noticed her walking over.

“Caff, want some?” He holds the cup out to her, managing a rather convincing grin. He can tell Echo's about to tell him off for offering Omega a caffeinated beverage, but the blond clone shakes her head before Echo can speak. Wrecker wouldn't have offered if he didn't know Omega would refuse. Tech told them something about caffeine stunting growth.

“Will you come to the docks with me?” Omega beams.

“Sorry Omega, I slept badly. Maybe later.” Echo smiles.

At Echo's answer, Omega's eyes turn to Wrecker, waiting for his answer next.

“I...” Wrecker should just push himself and go with her. He wants to go with her. But trying to stand sends a sharp pain through his knees, making them give out. “I can't. Don't feel too good.”

It hurts to admit that out loud, especially since he's letting Omega down. Wrecker can't make himself look at her, not wanting to see disappointment on her face.

“Okay.” She says, voice neutral. “Are you in pain? Do you need me to get you something?” She leans down so Wrecker has to look at her. Her eyes are wide, eyebrows knitted together, but she doesn't look hurt by Wrecker letting her down.

“It's not that bad, 'mega.” Wrecker ruffles her hair, smiling weakly. It baffles him that she's not upset by Wrecker not putting even a minimal amount of effort into at least trying to go to the docks with her.

“You sure? I can get the medkit from the Marauder!” The way she's eagerly swaying on the spot and swinging her arms, Wrecker wouldn't be surprised if she'd already had caff.

“Don't worry about me. Go have fun!” Wrecker laughs.

Omega hesitates, than hugs both of them and sprints off.

Echo shakes his head, laughing, before turning to Wrecker. “So you won't be honest about your health to me, but you'll tell a child?”

Wrecker groans in annoyance. “It has nothing to do with honesty! And besides, it's not like I wanted to tell her.” His voice tapers off as he talks, looking at his hands intently.

“I know. You told her because you couldn't get up.” This time, Wrecker does glare at Echo. The ARC raises his scomp defensively, trying not to laugh. “I meant no offence.”

Wrecker knows that, but that does nothing to make the truth hurt less. He draws his aching knees to his chest, making his back feel so much worse. Staring into the bottom of his now almost empty cup, filled with grainy, sugary sludge, Wrecker takes a shaky breath.

He'd almost forgotten how much his worst pain days make him hate himself and his faulty body.

“The truth's already out, so you might as well take it easy.” Echo puts his hand on Wrecker's back carefully. Wrecker shakes his head. His ori'vod sighs.

“I can't.” Wrecker mumbles into his forearm.

“And why not?” Echo asks. “You're no longer part of an army, there's no mission to be completed right now. The repairs will keep going with or without you. No one will begrudge you a day off.”

“I can't be useless, Echo.” Wrecker places his cup on the floor so he can wrap his arms around himself.

“We're not living under threat of decommissioning any more, vod'ika.”

“Doesn't feel like it.” Wrecker sighs. “Every time I make a mistake or slow down or fail at what I was made for, it feels like someone's watching me. Like I'm being evaluated.”

Echo breaths deeply. “I won't waste both our time trying to convince you you're doing enough, nor do I know how to shake the fear of failure they drilled into us growing up, but I'm not taking no for an answer on you taking a break.”

“Didn't you say we should be doing more?” Wrecker huffs, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

“Not every day of you life, Wrecker. I want to fight for our brothers, but I'm human, so I need to rest sometimes.” Wrecker doubts Captain Rex is following that motto. “We can afford actual down time now.”

Wrecker opens his mouth to protest, but Echo cuts him off.

“Don't you dare say some osik like you don't deserve to rest.”

Wrecker doesn't try again, Echo having guessed his thoughts exactly.

“Just lay down, will you?” Echo says as he does exactly that, stretching himself out in the grass beneath the tree.

Not in the mood to argue, Wrecker complies. The sun shines through the tree's leaves, light blocked enough to be comfortable to look at directly. It's nice. The grass is oddly comfortable, and the temperature is pleasant. Wrecker's body is still killing him, but he feels a little less like he might cry any minute.

“Don't think your brothers are going to get off the hook either.” Echo warns. “They need to take a break too, even if their bodies haven't forced them to do so yet.”

Wrecker laughs. “They won't like that.”

“They'll just have to deal with it.” Echo counters. “We'll ask them to bring you some painkillers when they join us.”

“That's a good idea.” Wrecker says, closing his eyes and at least trying to enjoy the good weather whilst they wait.

[celeluwhenfics]

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @sotwk for the tag! I'm somewhat of a beginning author, so let's see if I have anything to say...

How many works do you have on AO3? 6

What's your total AO3 word count? 17,293

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

pHORSEuasion (Éomer / OC)

Perfect (Théodred / Boromir)

The Creek Game (gen)

Spoons (Éomer & Théoden)

Morwen Steelsheen and her daughters (gen)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes!!! There might be a delay if I'm busy, but I make a point of responding to every single comment, even if it's just to say thank you! I love comments!!!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? That would be Caeeli aux mains bleues, an Arthurian fic I wrote at 16. It's kind of cringe... and yes very angsty. I keep it around because there's no use being ashamed of where you started (although.....) and anyway most of my followers don't read French so they can't witness that weird teenage trainwreck for themselves 🙃 I also have plans (and lots of drafts) to re-write it entirely into something much, much more interesting, but it will have to wait after pHORSE is done.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Perfect! Although it's merely a double drabble. But pHORSEuasion will have a sweet, happy ending and will sicken everyone around with sugary fluff!

Do you write crossovers? Does pHORSEuasion count as a crossover? I know that technically it's an AU (Jane Austen's Persuasion set in LotR universe), but it kind of has the spirit of crossover? Unless I misunderstand the concept.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Never.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? No... But never say never! 👀

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I could translate them into French myself. Or turn the Arthurian fic into English. We'll see.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No! Alone in my head, so far.

What's your all-time favorite ship? Hmmm I really like Borodred, but at the moment I'm entirely taken by my Éomer/Rowena(OC) ship!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? I WILL FINISH pHORSE I WILL FINISH pHORSE I WILL FINISH pHORSE I WILL FINISH pHORSE even if it takes me a decade.

What are your writing strengths? Erm, I think that one of my strengths is that I can draw from a wide variety of real-life experiences to make different settings and topics feel real and describe them with realism and depth?

What are your writing weaknesses? I'm sloooooooow. Wow I'm slow. Perfectionism, busy life, second language, complex plots, put all that together, and you get the pace of an arthritic snail on sleeping pills.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Old English is just too pretty! But I try to stay readable. (As if I had to restrain myself from fluently writing in Old English hahaha)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? I'm happy with LotR, Austen and Arthurian legend! Maybe one day I will extend to Silmarillion!

What's your favorite fic you've written? Finished: Spoons. Quite proud of how I treated a difficult, rarely addressed subject there! But overall: pHORSE is my baby!

Tagging @konartiste @dreambigdreamz @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @emmanuellececchi @torchwood-99 and who else wants to play?

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

You matter♡

Brooo this is so much self projection rn💀💀 but I needed a soft fanfic like this, so why not write it myself😆🙏🏾

Warnings: fem!reader, black reader, mention of depression, hurt to comfort, y/n is basically dating the 4 main clones, Zohakuten and y/n have a sibling platonic love, pure fluff, humor(?)

Aizetsu is the first to be there for you during these times and understand how you feel. The others didn't bother trying to get you out of bed since you didn't want to, but Aizetsu couldn't just leave you alone. Despite him being sorrow and making everything depressing himself, it saddened him to see you like this and wanted to stay by your side even if it's just him.

"I know it's hard, but please eat something...it makes me sad when you don't eat the right meals a human is supposed to have." Aizetsu rubs your back, holding a plate in his hand. "Look, I managed to get your favorite snack. plantain, right? I had a human make it, " he said with a soft smile.

You turned your head and smiled lightly. "You're so sweet, thank you... can I eat later? I just don't have the energy. " You turn your head back and curled up under for blanket more. Aizetsu puts the plate of food on your nightstand and turns off the light, continuing to rub your back. "I'm going to stay with you until you eat... you haven't eaten all day. " Aizetsu's voice shakes, becoming more worried.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying," your voice breaks, covering your face. "I know y/n." Aizetsu comes underneath the covers to spoon you, holding you in his arms.

For once, Sekido actually takes note of what Aizetsu says when you're in this state. He thinks it's best to leave you alone and let Aizetsu handle it, but it angered him, knowing your feeling comfort with only him when it should be the other way around. Sekido cares about you just as much as the others even if he's always angered, but this time, he needed to do his part in taking care of you in this mental state.

Sekido walks up the stairs, almost stomping, and flew open the door, letting the hallway light shine in your room. He growls and rips the blanket off you and Aizetsu, even going as far as to grab Aizetsu by his arm to pull him away from you. "Fuck off now. Clearly, your way isn't working, so let me handle things, " Sekido said, making Aizetsu sulk.

"Get up," Sekido said, standing at the edge of your bed. Your eye lids felt heavy, the energy to keep them open was too much but you took a moment to turn back to Sekido, looking at him emotionless and not saying a word, not even getting up like he said.

"You mustn't get mad at y/n. She's trying" Aizetsu softly spoke only making Sekido groan in frustration. Sekido took a breath before placing his knee on your bed to grab you, picking you up from the bed and into his arms "not only haven't you eaten you also haven't took a bath in three days and washed your hair. Your curls need to be taken care of and you know that" Sekido said, carrying you to the bathroom.

"That's also not enough food for her to eat, Aizetsu!" He said while walking. "Karaku! Urogi! Go make that food y/n likes and do it now!" He yelled, and they yelled back from downstairs"yes sir!!".

In order to make sure you took a proper bath, Sekido went in with you. He's at his softest when he's alone with you and more affectionate. In the shower, no words were spoken, only the sounds of him scrubbing your body clean and his hands going to work to wash your hair. "When we're done here, I'm braiding your hair back," he said, and you only nodded your head.

After the bath and hair treatment, Sekido braids your hair. "You know I get mad when you don't take care of yourself." he looks at you in the mirror, but you look back at him in the mirror, not speaking. "You look much better now. After taking a bath and your hair looking much better. If it wasn't for me, you'd still be in that bed not caring about your physical health and appearance. " Sekido scolds you.

"I know," you gulp, trying to hold back tears. "After this, you're eating. I don't want to hear any excuses, " he said, and you nodded with tears filling your waterline. His love is tough, but you couldn't help but you couldn't hold the tears back, feeling like you're worth something knowing he's going this far for you instead of leaving you be.

Sekido finished braiding your hair and watches when your face falls into your palms to hide your crying. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and placed his hand in your cheek, making your head rest on his hip. "You're beautiful. It's going to be fine, so stop the crying. It pissed me off to include the others, but we are here to take care of you. You're our favorite human, after all, so be proud of that, " he said, rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone.

Once you and Sekido came out of the bathroom, Aizetsu was sitting on the floor outside with tears and your bonnet in his hand. He quickly got up and hugged you. "i heard you crying in there," he said and cups your cheek with tears rolling down his face. "How sad. Dont worry, my love, it's going to be ok, " he said about to give you a kiss, but Sekido puts his entire hand on his face, shoving him back, almost breaking the wall.

"Fuck off!" He said, stomping to Aizetsu with his teeth clenched in anger and ripping your bonnet from his hand. Sekido took a deep breath and headed back to you and then put your bonnet on your head himself and grabbed your hand to take you down stairs "but what about Aizetsu?" Yku look back worried. "Get up and get the fuck down here!" Sekido yelled.

"Y/n! You're out the bath!" Urogi cheerfully said with a big grin, pushing Sekido out the way to hug you. "Just in time. We made your favorite food. " Karaku came to you, almost skipping and hugging you on the other side. You felt Sekido about to lose his mind but only turned his back towards them.

You smiled and closed your eyes in their hug, but you couldn't help your face from screwing up when you smelled what they were cooking for you. "Um... what did you guys make exactly? " you said. By this time, Aizetsu came down the steps and looked at Urogi and Karaku, just as curious as you.

"We told you. We made your favorite food!" Urogi said and randomly licked your cheek, making you eek out. "We made two separate dishes, so show yours first, Urogi. Gotta save the best for last, " Karaku said, grinning at his own words. "It's kinda werid looking, but I guess that's just human food!" Urogi brought the pot of food showing you what he cooked.

You gagged and quickly covered your mouth and nose. "What is that!?" You said, and Aizetsu pulling you back from the pot Urogi is holding to your face. "I think it's called soup!. I made it a few days ago but turned like this. Do you like it?" Urogi giggled, having a genuine smile on his face, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him it's gone bad, but you also couldn't eat it.

Sekido snarls, looking at the pot of "food," and was glad Karaku pushed Urogi out the way. "Ok, Urogi showed you what he cooked now. Look at what I cooked for you." Karaku opens the oven and pulls out a tray only for you to squeal from what he made. "You said you like chicken and seafood. So why not columbine it?" Karaku snickers.

At this point, Sekido grabs your shoulder, taking a big step back with Aizetsu to take you away from the fold. "Um, Karaku... did you clean it? Or season it?" You asked softly."I was supposed to clean it? I just skinned the chicken alive and then threw it in the oven, " he said, which made you even more scared of the food.

"Enough! You idiots had one job! ONE JOB!" Sekido yells, grabbing both their faces with their hands. Karaku and Urogi try to fight back as the three argue and scream over what to feed you. "I hate yelling.." Aizetsu said and gently grabs your shoulders. "If the yelling is too much, we can just go back upstairs... the food i have for you is still there"

Your eyes light up from the site. Aizetsu looked at you curiously when you giggled, and then your giggle turned into a full laugh, making the demons stop their arguing to look at you. "Thank you, Urogi and Karaku. I can't eat this since it would probably unset my stomach, but I'm glad you did this for me," you smiled, making Karaku and Urogi stare at you in awe.

The front door handle twists, and you, as well as the other clones, turn your head when the floor opens. "I'm home." Zohakuten said, coming in the house holding a bag in his arms. "Were have you been you damned brat. I can't take my eye off you for a second. What's that in the bag anyway?" Sekido asked.

"Well, y/n wasn't eating because she's upset, right?" Zohakuten didn't understand the situation as much as the others did. He never experienced depression but all he could comprehend is what you're not doing ok and his favorite human, whom he saw as his big sister needed some help.

You held back a giggle as you watched the small demon child hold the bag carefully and jump on the chair to place to bag on the table and carefully take out the food. "When I heard Urogi and Karaku were making y/n food, I hated the idea of y/n dying, so" he said, placing the sushi and a bottle of alcohol for you on the table for you "I got what I needed from some village" he said implying he threatened them.

"WHAT!? Say that again you little fucker! And why do you have alcohol for y/n!?" Karaku yelled. Zohakuten raised his eye brow "is this not soda?" He shakes the bottle, showing the bubbles forming through the glass. You chuckle and shake your head at his innocent thought.

"My cooking wouldn't have killed her! You probably picked your damn nose and put it in the sushi because kids do that nasty shit! That's gonna make her sick!" Urogi yelled, even making an angry bird sound.

"Nice, come back," Zohakuten sarcastically said and jumped down from the chair. "Every living this needs to eat. Especially humans I hate when humans can't follow those simple rules," Zohakuten looks at you and points to the chair indicating you should sit and eat.

"Thank you so much guys". You hugged Aizetsu again, and he hugged you back tightly. Then you hug Sekido, who wanted to push you off him for showing this affection in front of his brothers, but he just hugs you back.

"Me next!" Karaku skips to you happily and picks you up and hugging you tightly and spinned you around. Karaku put you down for Urogi to hug you. Urogi rubs his cheek on yours happily with his arms and wings wrapped around you into the hug.

"I feel a little better knowing I have this support." You were free from Urogi's hug. "Depression isn't easy, but at least you're up out of bed now," Aizetsu said with a soft smile on his face. You nodded your head and then sat on the chair. "And thank you, Zohakuten, for bringing me this delicious food." You smiled and tapped your lap with both hands.

Zohakuten's eyes light up and become more round and soft and couldn't help himself from running to sit on your lap. You pet his head and smiled "Unfortunately, this isn't juice, but I will save this for later. So thank you, " you gave Zohakuten a hug. You felt a cold sensation and turned to the 4 demons clones, looking angry.

"Um... what's wrong!?" You asked in fear for your life. "Why does he get this treatment?" Sekido growls in anger, almost referring to Zohakuten like a slur. "I wanna sit in your lap, too. That's not fair," Karaku said. "Me too.." Aizetsu softly spoke, agreeing with Karaku.

"You're much bigger than I am... and Zohakuten is just a child. It's easier for me to carry him. " You tried to explain, but Urogi only flaps his wings hard to blow your Bonnet off. "Stop that! You're so petty, Urogi!" You yelled until he stopped flapping his wings.

"Humph," Zohakuten crossed his arms and looked at his brothers. "Because I'm special. That's why i get to sit here" He said

"You're not," his older brothers said at once in annoyance.

[natalieironside]

hello ms. comrade Ironside, longtime reader, first time caller.

as a fellow writer of queer erotica, I was wondering if you had any thoughts/spoons to share those thoughts on wordpress being swept into the AI debacle under automattic? (I think that’s what you use to host your cool website, forgive me if I am mistaken.) I’m trying to figure out where to set up an author website of my own so I don’t have to host my stuff on tumblr anymore, but I’m a bit gun-shy in the current moment. I know AI trawling is inevitable in today’s internet, but as someone who’s been doing the indie author thing for some time (and admirably!), is there something you would recommend, best practices or otherwise, to someone just trying to get their metaphorical kite off the ground? or anything you wish you knew when you set up your own author-type socials? any thought at all would be genuinely appreciated.

thanks for your time, and I hope you and yours are as well as can be expected 🖤

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but afaik nothing approaching best practices has been figured out yet; it's all already happening and there's precious little as can be done to put the toothpaste back in the tube. Of course I uncheck all the little boxes in settings and deny them my consent or whatever, but I don't think a gaggle of unimaginative piss-bellied technocrats who decided it was a sensible use of vast amounts of water and power to teach a computer how to write very badly are what I'd call trustworthy. I'm still gonna move all my website shit off of Wordpress because they won't let me get rid of the stupid AI assistant thing, but that's more a case of their UI being ugly and dumb than me thinking it'll actually do any good.

Best I can tell you on that front is to try to find yourself a niche and develop yourself as an artist from there; "Write the kinds of books you wish other people were writing" is good general advice, and a human operator is always going to be capable of things a predictive network just isn't. Other ppl are gonna disagree with that, but they're wrong. Their understanding of resource allocation and scarcity is just childishly naive and you shouldn't waste your time listening to people who think we're gonna solve climate change with apps or whatever.

Far as social media goes, this is still the best one for hocking books as far as I can tell. I'm hearing a lot of good things about Cohost and Pillowfort, but their user bases are still quite small, and I haven't found the indie author community on Bluesky yet. If Tumblr goes belly up I'll probably end up migrating to one of those first two primarily b/c I think longform blogging is the secret stuff for ppl like me who are just too crabby and agoraphobic to be Twitter influencers; I may not be any good at videos or regular quick posts or documenting the writing process (which is too bad, b/c a lot of my friends who do that stuff seem to be having fun with it), but I sure can Lay Out Some Thoughts in A Few Paragraphs and I like to think that's something ppl expect from a novelist.

Also, never get in a public argument, don't go posting Your Thoughts On The Issues unless someone asked or you feel like you've got something interesting to say, and be very selective with how much and what personal information you give out to the hoi polloi. Those are my 3 rules for how to do social media good.

[bettyfrommars]

I need to know about drifter Steve! Is he anything like drifter Eddie? Is he more jovial or just as jaded? Does he feel connections with those he leaves behind? Or he just leaves and doesn’t think about them again?

thank you for asking about a wip from this post Jennie!

It was a Wip-Temper game, but has become a Wip-Tober thing, lmao.

Okay, Drifter Steve!

He has a lot of similarities to my drifter!Eddie! But I haven't decided to go the canon route where the events of S4 brought out darker aspects in him both physically and emotionally, or if this will be another version where he grew up near Eddie and Wayne looked after them when they were kids. Drifter Steve has the fighter side of biker!Steve, but more of the goofiness we saw in S3.

Quick Summary: Steve comes back to Hawkins to find Eddie because he's been offered a large sum of money to do a unique protection run. The job concerns a very mysterious item that they’ll be instructed not to look at or touch.

It's a mix of our biker boys, our nightmare boys, and a good helping of horror/magic realism.

Here is a snippet from what I have so far:

18+ONLY, cursing, illegal activity, mention of sex, Steve is single, but Eddie has an unspecified girlfriend (could be any reader)

-------

Steve didn't feel good about the Kovalenko job, but ten grand a piece would go a long way.

"What's the cargo?" Eddie asked across the table from Steve who was picking the label off of his Coors Banquet. They were shrouded in a smokey corner of the Hideout listening to someone hack a Johnny Cash song to death on karaoke night.

"You know what? I didn't ask," his companion admitted with a micro shrug, thumbing the end of his smoke before putting the filter to his lips again. "Does it matter?"

"I don't know about this, man," Eddie grumbled, adjusting in his seat so that his wallet chain clapped the wood. He rested his chin in his palm, "I don't know if I want to go down that road again. My job sucks but it's decent. I like my bed. I like having my girl with me when I wake up in the morning."

"She'll still be here when we get back," Steve bit, flicking his hand dismissively. Somehow, his friend had broken the desperado curse they'd both been afflicted, which left Steve as a perpetual third wheel. Even Robin had a partner she was crazy about, and he was getting tired of having to crash in their guest room---the ten grand would change that.

A gangly, teenage metalhead with a pimpled jawline brought them two more beers, and Eddie always tipped him well cause the kid reminded him of someone.

"Where are we taking it?" Eddie twisted the cap off and the mouth of the brown bottle smoked. "How many miles?"

"Not far," Steve rolled the cap along the table like a wheel. "Just like, a few states over I think."

"A few states." Eddie repeated flatly.

"Maybe, I think. Two or three. He'll tell us more tomorrow."

Eddie sat back and folded his arms over his chest. He wore his long hair in a low ponytail and had several piercings in one ear. "They're paying in advance for expenses, I hope. I'm not sleeping under the stars without a pot to piss in again with you, Harrington. I don't care how well you spoon me."

"Easy there, princess," smoke flared out of Steve's nostrils like a dragon, chuckling. "Damn, domestic life has really done a number on you."

Eddie's cheeks burned pink, tossing his head back for a chug of his Coors.

It'd been a while, but Steve remembered the person he was before all of the trauma turned him inside out. He'd been in love plenty of times since Nancy, sure, and he'd done his fair share of fucking, but it often felt like the cavern in him was too vast to ever be filled.

Danger though? That somehow managed to fabricate the illusion of fullness, of deep, nutrient rich satisfaction that fed him even better than sex.

"Or," Steve stretched back, interlacing his fingers behind his head. "You could sit this one out and I'll keep the 20 k all to myself."

"You're not doing it alone, man," Eddie mumbled. "Not worth the risk."

"That's the spirit, Munson." Steve grinned, fishing a piece of pink gum out from under his tongue to start chewing it again. "It'll be just like old times. You, me, and the road makes three."

As jovial as he was, Steve had a bad feeling about whatever the thing was Kovalenko needed them to transport. If it was blow or guns, no biggie, but this thing was different:

This thing had teeth and eyes, and he didn't know how, but it was already aware of him.

[scenetocause]

any guesses as to how max and lando both wound up sick. just curious.

[cn: cheating]

"You haven't sucked me off for ages," Lando pouts. Max nearly chokes on his mouthful of avocado toast.

"Mate." His ears are turning pink, he can't look at Pietra. "What the fuck."

"Well it's true, you haven't." Lando says it primly, goes back to demolishing some poached eggs with gay - literally - abandon. Like he hasn't just derailed Max's life for the fiftieth and possibly worst time this week.

He's going to have to do it at some point so he glances round at Pietra, who at least doesn't look completely disgusted with him, just like she's contemplating ways to kill Lando. Which he's fully onboard with, actually. It could be a new date concept, if Lando's going to insist on coming along.

"No, I haven't," is all he can muster as a response.

-

The thing is. The thing is that Max knows he's being a little bit of a hypocrite on a whole bunch of levels. Because he used to come on all Lando and Luisa's dates and fill in all the ways Lando's a rubbish boyfriend by being a better one and she didn't seem to mind that Lando just doesn't count sleeping with Max as anything, so they'd carried on doing it. Max is also pretty good at being Lando's boyfriend, in terms of getting him to act normally.

But Max should've known it wasn't going to work the other way around. He'd been so careful to keep them separated, at first. Partly out of fear Pietra would realise he's very much not an F1 driver and realise she could do better but much more out of knowing this wasn't going to go down well with either of them. It's a hard sell "hey can my best friend, who's chronically weird, hang out with us all the time and also sometimes he has to spoon me for emotional support."

He's tried to find things in it for Pietra but she could go to Monaco anyway and have a more normal time. She's not that keen on coming to grand prix, although he thinks she would if it was his racing and let's not take that train of thought too far to the depression station.

And Lando can't act normal about him and Max doesn't want him to. Was maybe trying to provoke this by getting a girlfriend in the first place - which isn't fair, that's not why he's dating her, it's just that something makes him want Lando's attention as much as Lando wants to give it to him and if they could ever just make that work they'd probably be a lot more normal.

The problem, really, is that Lando feels much more like forever than his girlfriend does. Which is pretty cursed, especially when he's openly sabotaging Max in the middle of brunch.

-

She doesn't bring it up with him, probably because there's nothing to talk about. Max had caved under about one minute of scrutiny from her about the nature of his relationship to Lando and then promised they weren't like that anymore and then slept with Lando the second he touched down in Nice.

Which is bad. He knows it's bad. He objectively knows this is bad boyfriend stuff and he doesn't want to be that, he wants to make things work and be in love and get married and have kids. Be normal - except that he can't.

It's like the stupid mess in his brain. He could just not have whatever makes him demotivated and mopey for days on end and it'd be better. Simpler, at least. Make more sense for the way his life's supposed to be going but instead he's had Lando fussing over him for a week because Max accidentally said some depressed stuff even though he'd been pretending that wasn't really going on anymore and now Lando's trying to add every possible enrichment to his enclosure.

Which is how they've ended up in Max's bedroom, Lando's hair freshly clipped and stream done, with Lando trying to get his cock in Max's mouth.

"Will you," he bats Lando's hand away from his hair, "just stay still and let me do this?"

"I'm trying to help." Lando sounds way too aggrieved for a man about to get a blow job. "It's been so long maybe you've forgotten how to - ah"

Max hums, knowing how good that feels when someone's got their mouth round your dick and then relaxes his throat, leans into it. Feels himself drooling on Lando's dick at the same time as Lando settles back into the mattress, sighs out how much he's enjoying it.

"Ah, that's so good - you're so good."

It's embarrassing how easily taken apart Max is by the praise.

Lando's fingers thread through his hair and he doesn't fight it, this time. "I missed you, baby," Max groans at the nickname, dick twitching. "I missed this, missed us."

It's a good job there's a dick halfway down Max's throat so he can't say anything stupid like 'me too, buddy.'

Lando's leaking already, messy in Max's mouth when he swipes his tongue over the head, lapping at it. He always gets so needy for it, whimpering and whining and pushing his hips up in desperate little circles - it's like the opposite of the way he fucks Max, all deliberateness. Like this he's just a helpless kitten, biting his own fist to try and stifle the noises he's making.

Max pulls off for a second, strokes Lando's hip, when he's getting really desperate. "It's ok," he says, trying to guide Lando, get him to turn the overwhelming sensation into a conclusion and Lando just whimpers again, biting his lip.

He comes into Max's mouth a minute later, back arching and Max lies down, head on Lando's tummy, to kiss his heaving abs afterwards. Lando pulls him up after a minute, holds him and Max's erection isn't so urgent he can't enjoy it for awhile.

When Lando returns the favour, chaotically sucking Max's balls while he's jacking him off, it doesn't take long either for Max to come or for the guilt to sink in. He can't come up with an excuse for why he can't stop doing this, only the inevitability that he won't.

-

They both claim their sore throats are from golfing or the rain or hayfever or something. Lando smuggles Max back to Monte Carlo two days later and fucks him in every room.

[familylightfox]

OOC: I'd like to be fully transparent on some things at the moment.

Vent Under the Cut:

I know it's been radio silence from me and even my queue is no longer running. At the beginning of this year, I spent far too much time working overtime at my work because we had issues with coworkers and keeping someone in a specific position.

I've been training nearly constantly for someone to fill the position so I wouldn't need to work those shifts and the person keeps falling through, or if they do stay call me on my days off to walk them through the entire process all over again multiple times a night.

So unfortunately I am kinda burning the candle at both ends and haven't been able to focus on anything. I'm struggling to write and draw because I'm constantly having to stop what I'm doing to answer questions I have on multiple instances before.

I don't want to have to drop any threads, but it's all going to depend on if I can get a few days to recharge my spoons as I am borrowing into next week just to get the typical chores done at home after work.

Bear with me guys. I love and appreciate all of you and your patience with me. Things are a bit rough but I'll get through it.

[delusional-mishaps]

This is for the Valentine's day ask:

Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night so far! Not to bother you too much or anything, but I was wondering if you could possibly do a relaxing/comfort one for reader with Ink? Like the reader is overworked and Ink decides to help them relax? It's okay if you can't! Thank you for your time!

YEAAA INK!!!! IVE BEEN GOING THRU AN INK PERIOD i love u/p

you groan, rubbing your eyes tiredly as you stare at the paper in front of you, miserably erasing what you'd just put down.

it felt as if you made more and more mistakes the longer you worked, which only made you more irritated. you don't even know how long you've been sitting at your desk, working on this one paper.

you frown, glaring at the paper. why was it so hard to finish? you had no problem starting it...

"gee, you're really wrapped up in your work, huh?"

you jump at the voice, swivelling around in your desk chair to stare at the skeleton lounging on your bed. he grins at you innocently, as if he didn't just scare the shit out of you.

"how long have you been here?" you ask, squinting at him. you cringe at the sound of your own voice, rough and tired-sounding. guess that's what happens when you haven't used it all day.

ink hums, tapping his chin thoughtfully before he shrugs.

"i dunno! long enough to know you need a break."

he pushes himself off your bed, bounding over to you. he pulls you out of your chair with startling strength—you always forget how strong he really is. he's so tiny.

"wait, ink—" you begin to protest. you really need to get your work done.

"nu-uh!" he interjects, waggling a finger in your face. "you need to take a break. when was the last time you ate?"

before you can answer, your stomach does so for you. ink shoots you a pointed look before turning around, leading you by the hand out of your room.

"stay here!" he requests, pushing you to sit on the couch in your living room. "i'll make you something!"

with that, he leaves you alone. you debate going back to your room to finish your work while his back is turned, but instead sink into the cushions, turning to television on to watch something while you wait.

it isn't long before he's shoving a bowl into your face. you blink at him, taking the bowl before he disappears somewhere else in your home. you look to the contents in the bowl.

soup. it heats the ceramic it sits in, warming your hands as you hold it. it smells good, too. different than the noodle packets you have in your pantry.

"i didn't know how many blankets would do a good enough job to make you relax, so i brought all of them!" ink announces as he steps back into the room, voice muffled by the mountain of blankets he's holding. you laugh, wondering how he managed to navigate his way back without being able to see.

you set the soup bowl on the side table, ready to help him with the blanket mountain, only for him to toss them all upon you. the weight of the many blankets tosses you back into the couch, pinned against the cushions. you fight your way out, head popping out of the pile of blankets to an amused ink. you roll your eyes at him.

"are you sure these are all my blankets? i don't remember owning this many." you ask, suspicious. he only grins at you, sitting on the couch beside you, a good foot or two of blankets distancing you from him.

...

"i can't eat my soup like this," you mention after a moment of silence.

"i can help you with that!" ink claims, climbing over you to reach the bowl. he sits on what would be your lap, if not for half of the blankets piled atop it already. were he anyone else, you'd worry he'd fall off the precariously balanced mound of fabric, though you know he's got impeccable balance.

"open up!" he spoons up a bit of the soup, blowing to cool it down.

"i can do it myself, just help me free my arms," you protest. ink pouts, holding the spoon out to you.

you sigh, opening your mouth. no point in fighting against him, he's like an immovable wall when he puts his mind to it.

happily, he feeds you, spoonful after spoonful, chattering away endlessly. the warm soup does well in filling your empty stomach, soothing the angry gurgling you've been ignoring the past however many hours.

eventually, the bowl empties. ink leaves it on the table, grinning triumphantly.

"okay. i ate, i sat around a bit... can i get back to work now?" you ask. ink huffs, crossing his arms.

"absolutely not. that's not enough time to rest."

you groan. you really needed to finish your work, it was important!

"i'll let you get back to it once you forget about it," he decides, patting your head as he gets off of you. you stare at him. he stares back. you roll your eyes.

"that doesn't make any sense, ink."

"yes it does!" he protests. "if you forget about it, you'll only have fresh ideas when you finally return to it! it'll help, trust me!"

you shake your head, but relent nonetheless. maybe he's right. you could leave it until tomorrow, look at it with a new perspective.

"alright." you mutter, agreeing. ink cheers.

"you still need to help me move these blankets, though. i'm sweating in here."

[incognitajones]

Fic author interview

Thanks to @sesamestreep and @glorious-spoon for tagging me in this one over the holidays! But between starting the new job and the holidays and the RCSS, it totally slipped my mind until now 😬

No-pressure tagging: @anghraine, @ladytharen, @luciechat, and anyone else who feels like it.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

An even 200 if I include both accounts.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Just under 650K words altogether.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Last Train 

I fought the war (but the war won) 

left-handed kisses 

Fixer Upper 

Chain Reaction 

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I want to let commenters know they're appreciated, and I enjoy talking about little details or plot turns. Lately I haven't had the time or energy for much more than a quick thank you, but I'm still trying to respond.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

At one point it would've been the bad ending of I fought the war, but now I think this Whumptober piece takes the crown.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Considering canon, most of them have an unrealistically happy ending! Especially inside the vastness of the galaxy, the "Naomi & Filip get a happy reunion" story.

7. Do you write crossovers?

No. I enjoy writing & reading some fusions (i.e. characters from one canon in the setting of another) but traditional crossovers in which characters from two different canons meet don't generally appeal to me.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not on AO3, but I've been sent anon hate on Tumblr about my writing a couple of times (find a Reylo writer who hasn't challenge).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yeah, a fair bit - in fact it's hard to remember sometimes that I never wrote anything explicit before 2016! It's all pretty vanilla, though, minus a few attempts at kinkier stuff which are deservedly anonymous.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Kind of; someone commented on one of my stories on AO3 to tell me that another story had copied significant parts of it. (They'd already commented on and reported the other fic, so I didn't take any additional action. The plagiarizing story was eventually deleted.)

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Bless the fandom translators, for they are amazing.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nothing posted publically.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I couldn't possibly choose a single favourite! In terms of longevity, it's either Han/Leia or Eowyn/Faramir. And Star Wars ships in general seem to have a strong hold on me 😁

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The OT3 whumpfic. It's nearly done, but it's far outside my usual wheelhouse so without a beta reader, I can't tell whether it's worth finishing or beyond help.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I write decent dialogue, and I'm genuinely proud of the ideas behind I fought the war and pulse to pulse. I can also write a pretty good pastiche of 19C style, although you wouldn't know it from this account.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting. Falling back on boring/clichéd beats to flesh out dialogue-heavy scenes.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

A sentence or so? Sure. Can't think of a reason to do much more than that.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

It would be either Buffy or Lord of the Rings - I honestly don't remember - not counting the terrible Shannara-fic I wrote as a pre-teen.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Someday I'd really like to write a Children of Men story telling what happened to Kee and [spoiler] after the movie, plus fixing [spoiler].

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Subject to change by the moment, of course, but looking back at some older stories recently reminded me that I've always been pretty fond of don't go home without me.

[addisonacres]

That's a wrap.

2023 is on its death bed and I'm both happy and sad about that. Personally, this year has sucked on so many levels and for so many of my loved ones. But four months ago I published my first title under Addison Acres and so my foray into the world of M/M publishing began.

It has not been easy. It was a hell of a learning curve, and I still feel out of my depth some days. It's hard bloody work. I work full-time and I also study part-time so it's not like I can sit and write all day (as much as I wish I could). I needed to take the leap though because if I kept on saying 'I just don't have the time' then it was never going to happen.

I've published 2 shorts and a novella on Smashwords and I think I've done okay with them. To date I've sold 768 copies. Yes, some of them have been freebies (Draft2Digital counts those in total books sold) but hey, I'm pretty happy with those numbers. Have I made millions of dollars? Pfft, no. Have I made thousands? Yeah, nah. But I've made a about $700USD so far.

Yeah, I don't have a problem talking about stuff like this. I know a lot of people are very hush hush about money but one thing I've discovered coming into this gig is that there's very little data to measure against. Who knows if this means I've been successful? I fucking don't! But maybe another indie author will see this and go 'Hey, that's similar to what I managed' or 'I made more than that so I'm doing really well!'. So yeah, I'm happy to throw out my figures if it'll help someone else. I'm not raking in the cash, and I haven't had my first title become a crazy best-seller and I'm suddenly playing with the big kids. I'm still very much a baby in this industry, finding my way.

Ultimately, yes I got into this publishing gig to make a few extra bucks. The cost of living has sky-rocketed and my job does not pay well. I adore it though so I needed to do something to supplement what I make. This isn't going to pay off my mortgage but it's paid for a new water pump for our rainwater tank and a delivery of hay for the alpacas. I've also re-invested some of my royalties into my writing. I've purchased the Atticus software and I got a bundle of photos from Depositphotos to use for book covers.

There's still a lot I need to do. I have yet to set up a newsletter, which is much to my detriment. I feel like I need to have a NL magnet first (which is the term used for a free story readers get when they sign up for your newsletter). I feel like no one will sign up for nothing so I've not set one up yet, but I have no idea what to write for the magnet...

I've been doing a lot of promo work on FB with joining release parties and giveaways but it's hard work. The marketing side of things takes up a lot of time, which yeah, I don't have a lot of. I did set up an Instagram account but I've hardly used it as it's very, very full on and I haven't really had the spoons. I know I need to invest more time in that, and I will try in the New Year but we'll see how full the cutlery drawer is first.

I also made the choice to do Tumblr instead of Tik Tok. Probably a very stupid choice since BookTok is huge and people get a lot of exposure on there. Why didn't I? Well, firstly, I'm really not very good at making videos and editing them. It's so very time consuming. Secondly, I like Tumblr. Is it a dumpster fire? Yes. Am I a bin chicken masquerading as a human? You betcha. So, yeah, I feel comfortable here. But I know I need to invest in more time here also.

Anyway, next year is a new year. I am currently working on a project that I've told no one about because I feel if I do, I will jinx myself and my motivation will fuck off to the moon. So, there is something in the works for publishing maybe in February. I'll be looking for beta readers once I've gotten it finished so if you're interested, hit me up.

I've also created a new logo because I haven't really done that and I figured I really should. I've made 4 variations to use for different situations and I really like it. It's pretty.

Anyway, I've rambled enough. Just wanted to do a little wrap up for the year and to prove that I'm not dead lol

Enjoy the final days of 2023 and I shall catch you all on the flip side.

[hunter-sylvester]

hey I saw you when I first got into the metal lords fandom but I didn't know you also liked shelter, what do you think Hunters opinion on would Ema be? (not that they have too much in common but i feel like he'd like her) Also, Hunters opinion on spoon?

Hey 🤘

I have been enjoying Shelter, but definitely in a much more casual way than I do Metal Lords.

I haven't really thought that much about how he'd feel about them/how they'd feel about each other, but I like the question. I'll have to base it off of the 4 episodes that are out so far, of course. Which isn't that much so this may change based on what else we see from the characters. (also might contain very very slight spoilers for those episodes idk just a fair warning)

Firstly, I don't disagree that Hunter might like Ema if he actually got to know her a bit. But I feel like on first glance he'd feel somewhat threatened by her.

Like, I think he might feel like she was sort-of invading his territory by being a weird, grumpy, alternative outsider. I also think he'd be a bit jealous of her professionally done temporary tattoos, although he would absolutely never admit that.

(this got kinda long, I'm sorry. I have a lot of opinions about Hunter and how he works/thinks lmao)

With how standoffish to new people both Hunter and Ema are I think it would take something of a 'forced' bonding moment for them to initially get to know one another. Because on first glance, Ema would probably think Hunter is just a massive dick. (Which is fair.) And Hunter would think that Ema is a dick. (He's got the self awareness of a wet rag.)

Basically, I feel like the first few steps of them getting to know each other would be an uphill slog through barbed-wire laden mud. But after that, and once they actually do get to know one another, I think they could make quite good friends in the long run. They're both (basically) canonically queer and I personally view Hunter as gay and Ema as a lesbian. So they could have quite a fun dynamic based on that and all their other quirks combined.

I think he'd dig her art too, he might even ask her to design an album/EP cover for Skullflower. That could be a nice initial way for them to interact in a more open way. Probably after the first mutual "yeah maybe you're okay, actually" moment. I don't think we've had much of a confirmation of Ema's music taste but she might like their music as well. And very very maybe she could even sing a chorus on one of their songs. That might be cool. Although I think it would take some time and personal growth on Hunter's part for him to want/be okay with something like that.

Now, Spoon. Weirdly enough, I watched an interview where Adrian was asked if Spoon and Hunter would be friends and I don't disagree with his answer:

"I think Spoon would give it a shot, I don't know if Hunter would be up for it."

In addition tho, I think if Spoon manages not to accidentally press too many of Hunter's buttons, he would be able to wear him down. (Which sounds terrible, but I mean it more in the sense that I think Hunter just needs a bit of time to get used to people.) Spoon seems quite accepting of Ema's general grumpy-black-cat attitude, so I think he would probably extend a similar patience to Hunter. Which I think is something Hunter needs in people, it's a quality I think Kevin has. Someone who doesn't take the odd snappy comment or what I call "hedgehog moments"* too personally.

*hedgehog moments or 'hedgehogging' is basically when someone feels threatened so they metaphorically curl up and stick their spines out in a reflexive attack to keep themselves safe. (I don't know if it's a term anybody but me and my friends use but it makes sense in my head)

I think Hunter would initially think Spoon is...well...lame as hell, unfortunately. And probably pretty annoying. I think one of the things that might help Hunter see him in a better light would be if Spoon impressed him somehow. Either by getting him in somewhere he's not supposed to be through the Janitorial Offspring Network or something tech related. Like, maybe getting him a download of some unreleased music he couldn't get otherwise. Like once he sees him do some 'cool' illegal shit his tune might change. Other than that I think just the persistent non-judgemental attention would do the trick over time. Spoon seems pretty loyal and like a 'fierce' friend. Which Hunter would appreciate with his abandonment issues and fear of being "invisible" (cough result of parental neglect cough)

Thank you for asking! I enjoyed scribbling my thoughts on this down ^-^ I do hope it's not too long and jumbled (I have adhd, if it's a mess, that's why)

As always, this is just my 2cents based on my interpretation of the character(s)

[mcalhenwrites]

Personal update, because... I don't know how things are going to go. I don't know when I'll update things. I don't know when I'll sleep properly and get any writing done. This hit when I was having a bit of a lapse in mental health, and I was discouraged about writing (but trying to keep myself from being pulled under!). I spent about 30 minutes pacing around my bathroom since it's further inside the building, trying to figure out if we were in the path of another tornado while the sirens blared. We were not. My town didn't get hit this time, like it did two weeks ago. Anyway. Two hours later, I'm face to face with a bed bug for the first time, and that fucked me up.

I broke down crying in a panic when I realized what it was and what it might meant for us. We're still searching through belongings because guess how much stuff we own? A LOT! (Someone advised me to go through each of my hundreds of books, page by page, to look for any hidden in them. I'm going to die.) But so far, it has only been the one. I haven't been mentally well. We're not rich over here, money is tight for my roommate and they're paying for all the bills. I just try to keep the place moderately clean, cook a few meals, and write my stories and hope they might sell a bit so I can make a little money to help out. I have been job searching and put in an application to one job that would've worked well for my disabilities, but I didn't get the job. I'm still waiting another month until my appointment to see a specialist about one of my severe health issues. One that can be treated and dealt with! But it's pretty bad! Things have been awful. Like seriously, I cannot catch a break. I don't know how to find the spoons I barely have to do all the work that needs done. I wanted to make progress on Seasons - and I still will, but I don't know how much this will slow that down - and I plan to finish up all those short stories for Geckos so I can publish them together. Geckos isn't really selling, but I am grateful it has sold a few copies. The apartment manager is aware of our situation. My library books are in gallon ziplocs to return in person Thursday and notify them that they might want to treat them or hold them back until they're certain they're safe for circulation again. Can't hurt. I just don't want anyone else to deal with this. I vacuumed this morning but I'm so sore and I can't sleep... tomorrow we are going to buy some things to help deal with this, like storage containers and bags and covers and whatnot. Seeing a lot of people mention steamers. I don't know how to live with this. Scabies during the beginning of covid was bad enough. Scabies being immediately followed by a fucking brown recluse bite that got badly infected and required me seeing a surgeon REALLY fucking sucked. Brown recluse infestatinos are awful! We left our shit apartment and broke lease to move here. It was decently good. Not the perfect place, but y'know. So seeing a bed bug in a building that's only about 2 years old... I worry we have neighbors who are dealing with it and won't say anything. It's a concern. I really don't want to live like this. The problem is I don't want to live at all now, because nothing ever lets up. My roommate is worried about me, so I have agreed this week to do some calling around for psychological help, but I am afraid to go to urgent care and pass along little fucking hell creatures. I'm afraid I might GET MORE OF THEM. Also, the one time I was in a psychiatric hospital was so bad, I had nightmares consistently about having to go back to one for over a year. I still get them sometimes. But I'm feeling suicidal in a "I can't deal with bed bugs" kind of way. I need help. I don't know how to get it. I'm mad that there are millions of other people in this same state. Why is our fucking country so into weapons and selling them to countries that blow up innocent people and starve them to death, so into guns it's appalling, but like... developing new antibiotics and housing people and looking for ways to take care of bed bugs? Nah. Why do that? Fuck the little people I guess.

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

I've been thinking about this idea that came to me after Florence and the machine released Mermaids and then I watched The Lighthouse. I wanted to write a dark Mermaids story and my protagonist was a solitary man, dealing with grieve, sounds familiar?

Even if I didn't planned as a fic but an original story, Joel Miller inspired it (maybe also the fact that I've been playing tlou part 2 and there's a ton of scenes dealing around the coast) and I think the sea is a great setting to explore pain. I got stuck, you can figure that out just knowing I wanted to be done for merMay and well... it's August. So in order to bust my ass to write, I wanted to share some snippets with you. I want to publish it here and Ao3 sometime this week. If by next Monday I haven't, you can come scream at me (thank you).

Themes and what to expect from it: this is weird story, dark and eery sea vibes, grieving lots of pain, tension, smut (duh), and very important, Joel Miller continues to be little spoon on this.

The siren will be described( as fins and tail and color and her not human features), but the "girl" version of her will not, she will be nameless and addressed as "she, girl, siren etc" but it can be read as as a f!reader.

"They say the sea has some power over the souls. It understands something that lies underneath flesh and bones and it sings a song that appeal to those who are wounded.

The sea is a welcoming mistress for lost souls. At land, all he did was bury himself in pills and alcohol. He numbed his head so his thoughts would stop being her fast breathing, her cries, his shirt wet, warm and sticky over his chest.

(....)

I know, baby, I know.

I gotta get you up, babygirl

He remembers getting her corpse up of the ground, and all he was, was left in the puddle of her daughter’s blood on the grass."

(....)

"They were so far away; the radar never showed any passing ship. The sky was so bright, Joel saw the Milky way for the first time. That white spur of cosmos full of stars  brighter than any artificial light he had never seen before. The sea was so calm the light draw silver lines over the soft waves, the soft push of them crushed against the boat, when he saw it. A shadow, barely a head above water. If it weren’t for those silver lines, a glitch on the reflection of the sky above, he wouldn’t have seen it."

(....)

"She cradled his head on her lap, her sharp nails combing his greying hairs, again and again. And she sings.

Her voice is soft, and deep. She hums sometimes, or just vocalises, others she speaks in a language he does not understand. Long syllables, soft words. Even if she does use unknown words or just her voice, Joel understand. She sings about longing, death, lost and love. Sometimes he cries and she shushes him like a baby. With her voice and her hands, she caresses his wounds and his heart.

In the night, they lay, and she tangles herself to him. She's warm and soft and smells like salt and sand. It's like she keeps the warmth of the beach on her. Her heartbeat is steady. If she notices that sometimes he touches the skin on her leg, from her ankle to her thigh, the one leg she tosses over his hip, she does not say.

Sometimes she turns and grabs his arm, cuddling herself with him, as if he was a blanket over her. She keeps his hand between her breasts, her slow and steady breath should calm him. But she pushes against him, her back on his belly, her hips between his hips.

If she notices that his painfully hard and cannot sleep, she doesn't say.

But when he does eventually fall asleep, the nightmares start.

"do not cry, Joel" she kisses the tears running down his cheeks. And she sings, and he cries more. Until he's empty and exhausted, until he can fill the sea and drown.

The siren sings every night and he begins to forget why he's crying or that he should try to get back to the land"

Let me know if you wish to read it once I upload it 🥺

[zorkaya-moved]

"Don't bite your lip, I want to do that." from zen

@avaere

It seems that pretending to be a timid and anxious woman for one of the missions backfires as she keeps mimicking the nervous habit she had to adapt to fit the role. The light bite on the lower lip to bring attention to the plump and rosy lips to keep others mesmerized and to bring them to be charmed by the cuter attitude. Even if her height was tall, the correct clothing and the correct style with some disguise additions could bring out such different results. Then again, Sokolova doesn't usually catch herself on repeating her [role's] habits after the mission, but she has to return to that appearance in two days, so maybe she keeps reminding herself how to act like that.

As she reads the recipe, it seems she bit her lip again because it makes Zen speak up as he sits on the opposite side of the table, watching her. They've been discussing what they can make for dinner since she refused to go outside, both to avoid getting paparazzi on Zen's heels but also to enjoy a simple night in. They can be safer inside for now, so none of his fans recognize him outside and no one would dare to ruin their little date.

Immediately, Zarina stops as she looks up from the pages to meet the familiar gaze of ruby.

He's cute when he acts like this, but then again? Can she really call him cute when he can make her legs give out and give her a hard time standing the next morning? Yes, she can. She can call him cute even when he so obviously hints at something more physical (which she enjoys all too much, loving his touches and his kisses more than she'd ever be able to express). It's nice to be so open with each other because she feels less of a need to hold back, feeding him her attention and her love on a silver spoon because she has so much to give to him. She adores him, worships him as an equal, loves him far and beyond.

"After dinner, Zen," she playfully rolls her eyes at him, but her lips curl into a smile despite. They can't mess around while the food is not done and they haven't eaten. Knowing their levels of insatiability when it comes to each other, she doesn't expect to be done in an hour or two hours. As much as Zarina wants to feel his lips on her own and have his teeth bite down on her lower lips to make her gasp, dinner remains her priority for now, even if he gives her his best puppy dog eyes. He's pretty as he is and he's even more adorable with those pleading eyes, but she wants to... Fuck, he can't smile knowingly at her like that. He is well aware she wants to kiss him too. "I know if you kiss me once right now, we won't be able to stop for a while."

The dinner must be served!