#and i've only got 5 excerpts to work with so

[gendervapor14]

who's ready for some 01746 snippets!!

alright so here's how this is gonna work. i'll post one snippet per day. we should land on the 30th, the birthday! and that will be the last snippet and i will probably cry in the tags or something. but yes, they will be chronological. i don't have all of them 100% planned yet...? trying to map out a few in the middle. these will all include potential spoilers, but nothing groundbreaking. it's difficult to define what's a "spoiler" since this is a biography of events that take place in the canon universe but, well, lemme stop rambling and kick things off.

01746 birthday bash ~ day one ~ chapter 12: discovery

content warnings: teenage angst, pre-canon spoilers word count: 633 words brief summary: several days after roger's execution. rosinante is stuck at Navy HQ, very bored, due to a broken leg. in his late-night wandering, he accidentally discovers something life-changing.

Then, he approached the thick stack of papers that were left neatly on the desk. They were interesting, that was for sure. The names some of these pirates came up with, the worth they carried with them. I wonder what determines whether they’re wanted dead or alive. He flipped through them with mild interest, snickering to himself at some of the rather unsightly or blurry photos. Imagine having your likeness represented like that. His eyes reluctantly took in the appearance of a man who had actual snot rockets dripping from his face. How the hell does a photo like that even happen?

And then he turned the page. Dead or Alive. He took in that garish expression. An almost frightening grin, tongue lolling out. Those pointed sunglasses, with goggles perched above them. An odd look, for sure. He almost flipped the page before his tired eyes urged his hand to pull away, towards the fine print. The fine print that he almost skimmed. Those capital letters, printed just beneath his photo.

DONQUIXOTE DOFLAMINGO

Flesh turned to stone. A distant swirling sensation of painkillers mixed with the edge of a dehydration headache surrounded him. Otherwise, all was empty, still. These other pirates didn’t matter. The execution didn’t matter. The marines didn’t matter.

Doffy was still alive. Doffy was a pirate. Worth one-hundred-million berris.

There wasn’t a peep. No one was around. Still, Rosinante snagged the poster, folded it into quarters, and tucked it into his cast, as if he had only seconds before he was caught. Then he put all the other posters back, lined them up neatly, exactly the way they were left on the desk. He clanked the lamp off and staggered out of the room, holding onto the wall on his way back to his dorm, so as not to fall flat on his face.

Thankfully, the days of living with others in his rank were long gone. He flicked the light on, wincing as he tugged the poster from his boot and unfolded it. Smacked it down on his desk and stared at that horrid expression until his eyes pricked with hot, furious tears. He ripped the receiver from the shell of his transponder snail, pressing his knuckles to an eye to at least pretend to stop crying.

It rang. And rang. And rang. Then, the eyes drooped shut.

The teen gave a frustrated growl, knuckles white around the receiver as he tried again. Thirty seconds of ringing. Nothing. “Dammit!” He cried out, a moment of fury causing him to fling the receiver across the room. Unexpectedly, it bounced back on the wire and whacked him in the eye. “Ow! Shit!”

As he cradled the swelling eye, Rosinante limped across the room, scooping up his pillow and screaming into it without restraint. His care for any of his neighbors had been cast to the wind. Then, he whipped the pillow across the room. Achingly, he collapsed onto his knees, smushing his face into his mattress. That became his next victim, subjected to grueling strike after strike, blankets bunched up in a messed pile.

Then, a spell of coolness flooded over him. It was fleeting, temporary. He let it bring him to stillness, ribs trembling and shoulders aching from the intensity of his fit. Wearily, his dark eyes flicked over to the transponder snail. With a bit more composure, he limped over to it, dialing a different number.

A few rings. His grasp tightened on the receiver with each ring. Every second it became less likely that she’d pick up. And then the eyes drooped shut. Rosinante hung his head and screamed, loudly, wrathfully, raking fingers through his hair and pulling. “Dammit Roger!” He kicked his desk chair across the room with his good leg, “Damn you and your stupid execution!”

read the full story here ♥

[deadpresidents]

I'm always a fan of Caity Weaver's work, but this piece from the New York Times Magazine (these links are gift links from me past the NYT paywall to access the full article) about how the penny is not only a ridiculous zombie currency, but also a reflection of American dysfunction is one of the best articles I've read in a long time. It's really interesting, especially the parts about production, circulation, and the ultimate paralysis of throwing them in a coin jar for months or years before eventually taking them to a Coinstar machine.

Not only is the penny useless and more expensive to make than it is actually worth, but it's also relatively easy to eliminate. But it's not an imperative and eliminating it also wouldn't necessarily be something that the government or the citizens would actively profit from. And people don't like change -- and I don't mean "change" as in currency, but the act of doing something different or unusual from our accepted routines. So we just ignore them or discard them or hoard them needlessly, and the government keeps making billions of tons (literally) of them because they drop out of circulation. Nobody cares and nobody wants to have to do anything about it because America.

Here's a little excerpt of the piece from the New York Times Magazine, and again, just follow the links for a free gift pass behind the paywall for Caity's full article:

Americans accumulate pennies not because we desire them but because we are entitled to them. If we pay for something in cash with more than exact change, we expect to receive back the difference; if the difference ends in any number other than 0 or 5, we will receive at least one penny. We are entitled to pennies because they exist. But imagine a world where they didn't. Imagine a world where it was Canada. Many Americans will be surprised to learn that Canada eliminated its 1-cent coin more than a decade ago...Canada got rid of its penny in 2013 because it cost 1.6 cents to produce and had, like its American cousin, become essentially worthless. Here is the most important detail to understand: Canada eliminated only its physical coin, not the mathematical concept of 1 cent. Payment by credit card, debit card, mobile phone or check -- any kind of noncash transaction -- is calculated exactly as it was before the penny was abolished. If, after tax, a bill comes to, say, $20.11, a Canadian paying by credit card will be charged $20.11. A Canadian paying by cash can expect to pay $20.10. The final digit of Canadian cash transactions is rounded to the nearest nickel: 1 and 2, nearest to 0 nickels, round down to 0; 3 and 4 round up to a nickel -- 5; 6 and 7, also nearest to one nickel, round down -- 5 again; 8 and 9, nearest to 10 cents, round up. I admit that the thought I might be asked to pay, say $3.80 (cash) for something that, according to the laws of God and man, has been calculated to cost $3.79 (cash) is not only reflexively infuriating to me but a potential source of permanent confusion. The Canadian government mitigated one of those problems (no hope for the other) with an information campaign that included signs with simple charts dividing potential prices into two columns: "Round down" and "Round up." I asked Karl Littler from the Retail Council of Canada if there were still signs at cash registers explaining the rounding. "It's 10 years now, so even the most obtuse people have pretty much figured it out," he said, and laughed.

-- Caity Weaver: "America Must Free Itself from the Tyranny of the Penny", the New York Times Magazine

[splendsay]

COD Fic // Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 10: Father's Daughter

hello hi yes more angsty hand holding in this chapter UR WELCOME I had to do a lil bit o' research for this one to make sure all my i's were dotted n' shit, so I am hopeful everything comes across in a way that tracks with reality as much as possible and it all makes sense and also that u love it and honestly if u don't that's really none of my business

Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 10 // Father's Daughter

.................................................................. CWs: Explicit language, vague mentions of past trauma and recovery, descriptions of guns

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader (You), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Chapter Excerpt:

"You won't find it anywhere. It doesn't exist."

Soap frowns. "What d'you mean?"

You stare at them -- these men you hardly know. They seem so earnest. You hate that. You hate that you only have one thing to offer them -- a measly supply of information relative to your crazed scientist father's end-of-life havoc-wreaking. 

You tighten your grip on Ghost's fingers, and he runs a comforting thumb along your pinky.

"Toward the end... My father...he got more and more erratic. His behaviors, his decisions. They didn't make sense. He wasn't himself."

Gaz leans forward on his elbows, nudging his bowl to the side. "In what way?"

"He stopped taking my calls--"

"Because you were discharged?"

You try not to feel the sting of that word on someone else's tongue, but it's hard. Even after all this time. 

"Partially, maybe," you ponder. "But he'd been deteriorating even before that. I'd thought he was just manic -- obsessed with the task at hand. That wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. But he was taking shortcuts he wouldn't normally. He told me one day that..." You trail off. The memory is like a bloodstain. 

"Dad...dad, slow down."

"It's the breakthrough of a century, Sunny," your father speaks to you through rough, choppy pants, as though he's got blades in his lungs. He's been chain-smoking again.

"This...this will be my legacy," he goes on. "Everything I've worked for, everything I've done. Nothing will top this. It's perfect -- it's the perfect specimen, I know it is."

"Dad, what about trials?"

"I don't fucking need trials! We'll go strai--"

"But, you're pre-clinical, you can't proceed on humans without testing the potential implicatio--"

"Who the fuck do you work for, the FDA? I don't have to do shit!"

"But the ethics of jumping straight to--"

Your father's voice is as cold as you've ever heard it when he cuts you off again. "Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, Sunny. You know this."

There's a momentary, bitter pause as you digest his words. Words you know, words he's recited to you a hundred times. "Dad," you plead. "There's anoth--"

"Goodbye, Sunny."

The line goes dead.

The sensation of Ghost squeezing your knee again brings you back to the present.

..................................................................... Links to: Spotify Playlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

.................................................................

"Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge without integrity is dangerous and dreadful." - Samuel Johnson (1709 - 1784), English Author, Poet, and Literary Critic and Writer

[vellaphoria]

Particular intrigued by

Aftermath of Pollen 👀 (did you/we talk about this????)

Dark Waters (oohhh all the meanings to this 👀 or mer au)

and of course my beloved, Red in Tooth and Claw, if there is anything new you wanna share 👀👀👀

Oooooh those ones are fun!! Aftermath of Pollen The aftermath of pollen fic is for one of the DickTim Week 2024 prompts - more or less it's what it says on the tin: Dick and Tim wake up in bed together after getting hit by sex pollen 😌 But I also decided to make it more dramatic by Tim having asked Dick out at one point, only to have Dick turn him down because "it wouldn't be right." That was when Tim was younger though. Dick has since revised his stance, though he's pretty sure that Tim's moved on. Unsurprisingly, Tim absolutely has not moved on, but he thinks that Dick is going to be distressed when he wakes up and realizes what happened. That was about as far as I got before hitting a wall. Actually getting them to a resolution wasn't quite working in a way that. felt like it would actually work. The plan is to finish it at some point, but I need to figure out where I'm going with it first lol Dark Waters Dark Waters is not actually a mer au, but I do enjoy those (also, a shameless plug for the one I wrote with human eating sirens)

Instead, the title for Dark Waters comes from a quote from Tim in Red Robin #19 where he says "I get why they want to swim through these dark waters – no consequences, no guilt – a place of instant gratification, where you can get anything you want with just a thought…”. The quote is about the Unternet and so is the fic - because of Reasons, Tim has disappeared into the Unternet. Specifically, because of how the Unternet works, his body is in the real world, but the rest of him isn't. So, someone has to go in and bring him out, since they can't find a way to do it externally without causing brain damage. It turns out that the part of the Unternet that Tim is in has firewalls that won't let anyone in... except for Dick. So he's picked to go in and save Tim - he then proceeds to discover that Tim is being kept in the internet by an AI that he created that gained sentience (think science fiction AI, rather than current events AI. This fic was started a long time before that was a thing). The really surprising part is that the AI looks like Dick. And talks like him. Acts like him, too. And Tim may or may not be willingly trapped since the AI that looks like Dick seems to have fallen in love with him... Cue Dick having multiple crises <3 Red in Tooth and Claw

You may be happy to know that chapter 5 is almost done ��� Excerpt:

“I’m not hungry,” Tim says. 

Dick pulls out of the hug just enough to look him in the eyes.

“You will be,” he warns.

“I’m not killing anyone.”

“You don’t have to. We have thralls for a reason, Tim.”

“I’m not drinking from anyone either.” This time, he tries to pull back.

Dick lets him go. 

“That isn’t going to work,” Dick says. “You hate losing control. If you let this go on long enough, what do you think is going to happen? You might not be able to stop yourself from killing someone, then.”

“I won’t have to stop myself if I don’t get near anyone,” Tim snarls, putting his back against the window.

“Is that the plan, then?” Dick demands. “Stay in here for the rest of forever and hope that no one wanders in?"

"What's so wrong with that? You don't let humans up here anyway."

Dick frowns. "A starved vampire is a danger to everyone, Tim. Not just humans."

"So I'll kill re-kill one of your undead cronies? Good."

Dick pauses. Something through his eyes too quickly for Tim to determine what it is.

"What if it's me?" he asks, quietly.

Tim goes still as he considers it: the dark splash of Dick’s blood against the floor. The silence as the link between them dissipates. The knowledge that he can end this. 

Despite everything, despite what Dick did, the thought is still a deeply unpleasant one.

"I've never been able to reliably beat you in a fair fight," he mutters. “I doubt that’s going to start now."

He risks looking at their reflections. When he does, the glow from Dick’s eyes is visible even in the dark glass. 

“You don’t believe in fighting fair,” Dick says. A smile lurks at the corners of his mouth, but it’s weighed down by the melancholy in his expression.

“No,” he says. “I don’t.”

Dick laughs a little at that, but not enough to make Tim want to punch his face in any more than he already does. 

He takes a step back, away from Tim and the window.

“If you won’t hunt and you won’t drink from the thralls… we have blood bags. It isn’t as good as blood from the source, but it should be enough to keep you from losing yourself to the hunger.”

“What do you mean by ‘losing myself?’”

“Nothing good,” Dick says. His smile is small and wry. “So let’s try and not find out, okay?”

Tim doesn’t answer him. 

He waits a moment more, but when it becomes clear that any further conversation will be entirely one-sided, he sighs and leaves Tim with his thoughts.

[screamlet]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

tagged by @rcmclachlan​!!! what a fun journey through time, especially because this is the first time i've been in a tumblr-centric fandom... ever.

Share your top 10 tumblr posts from last year! Visit this site, scroll down to "Find your Tumblr Top 10," type in your username, and select 2024. When you get the results, simply click "Share to Tumblr" and you'll get an auto-generated draft for a post with links and previews. Make any adjustments you see fit.

---

1. 558 notes - Nov 9 2024

Another hospital room. Buck takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, letting it out and hoping he gets back to sleep. It doesn’t happen, though, because his brain catches up to his eyes: Maddie, wearing a yellow paper hospital mask, a hand anxiously on her belly, sitting in the chair next to him with that too-familiar oh-thank-god-you’re-finally-awake face… and Tommy leaning in the doorway.

this is from break and be mended, the 4.5k bucktommy fix-it fic i vomited up literally two days after the breakup aired. the spirit (of anger and spite) moved me i guess

2. 406 notes - Sep 17 2024

so imagine: s8e1, many bees, zero tommy until another last 5 minutes of the episode, the jeep pulling up to this small house...

this little whatever from a week before the s8 premiere when we thought the bees would be something and/or tommy would do anything and/or we would ever see tommy’s fucking house. the dodgeball of apollo missed me on every count.

3. 400 notes - Oct 4 2024

“well we’re so happy the co-pilot’s awake! everything’s gonna be just fine and we can land this plane now” god don’t they know they’re in part two of a three-part season opener, they did this to themselves

this random post from an episode live blog and it wouldn’t have gone anywhere without @dadvans​ and the assist, god this still makes me laugh

4. 232 notes - Dec 8 2024

It’s not until the elevator starts moving that he hears it through the doors: “Tommy! Tommy, wait—Tommy!”

the fic post for a wolf without a foot, my 34k bucktommy fix-it fic that just... 😐 i might write a buck interstitial to this one because buck’s (lack of) presence in it continues to bug me. no promises!!!!

5. 222 notes - Aug 28 2024

The plan doesn't involve kissing Evan, this man he's met three times. Disaster rescue, work tour, basketball disaster, Evan's apartment right now—four times. This is only the fourth time he's ever laid eyes on Evan Buckley, but Evan Buckley hasn't fucking blinked since he stepped into the room. Has Tommy?

for a random wip wednesday, i posted the whole tommy pov scene of The First Kiss from what are your intentions? and it’s still getting notes four and a half months later. this poor man!!! what’s a terrified gay to do!!!!!

6. 214 notes - Dec 11 2024

Tommy has one arm firmly around Buck and one finger pointing at Sal. "I'm from LA. When the hell would I have seen a live chicken?"

aw, this cute @118dailydrabble​ where buck learns about Maurice the Chicken while hanging out with tommy, sal, and bobby.

7. 213 notes - Dec 20 2024

Buck reads to himself: If my grief is violent enough, perhaps he will come back to life again... "Mayday, mayday, mayday, companies respond to an explosion at Harbor Station."

the beginning of blow up that chopper!!!!

8. 204 notes - Nov 16 2024

"Yeah, pretty much. You got some good parts, though. The really good ones." He swallows past the lump in his throat, and means it when he says, "I wouldn't give you any less." "But I wanted all of them," Evan says. "You gave me less, Tommy. Don't think you did me some favor, here. You didn't. You gave me less."

a wip wednesday excerpt from a wolf without a foot, gahhhhhhh yes it still kills me, too

9. 201 notes - Nov 26 2024

my favorite part of the bucktommy breakup fic explosion is seeing each writer focus on THE thing that bugs them most about this breakup and/or breakups in general...

"confessions” aired almost exactly two months ago and man has this fandom been a fucking ride since then

10. 198 notes - Dec 9 2024

unfortunately kinley cafe posits a REALLY interesting coffee shop au where the fluffy gay owners break up and a whole neighborhood has to scheme to get them back together so they don't sell the cafe

where is this coffee shop au!!!!!!!!!!!

tagging: YOU, YES, YOU

[harruandlou]

✨Writing Self-Evaluation 2024

thank youuuu @red-pandaaa for tagging me 🫶🏻

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 4 this year! (10 total!)

2. Word count posted for the year: 262,441

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction

4. Pairings: Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: i would know you from touch alone

Bookmarks: sunshine, baby! (literally 1 single bookmark more than iwkyfta or this would be a clean sweep)

Comments: i would know you from touch alone

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): I think sunshine, baby! I did a lot of research for that fic into swimming and law school (and the olympics) and it's the longest thing I've ever written on my own.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): I'm really proud of all of them, but probably your brightest star only because I wasn't in a good place writing and pushed myself through most of it. I think it could have been better if I hadn't been so strict on myself for posting time, etc.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: I got so many really wonderful comments this year and every single one makes me go mush inside. In particular anytime someone says I'm one of their favorite authors or my fic is one of their comfort fics I just want to cry lol.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: I started slipping into a rut in like May and didn't really claw out of it until October. During that time I wrote ybs and about 25k of a wip I've since put on the shelf. The whole time was such a struggle.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Louis' roommate Mina in sunshine, baby! surprised me a lot this year. I added her in a scene because I wanted Louis to say something in particular, but fully expected her to show up once. But I really loved writing her and then she ended up bring the kick in the ass he needed more than once and i love her so much.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: this is from i would know you from touch alone. I added this scene in editing and it's one of those moments that it seems impossible now for the fic to have existed without it. I love it not necessarily because of how its written, but it like such a good reminder that editing a million times can be really important to shaping the fic 😂 (I need that reminder for the next time I edit something to death)

Hours passed, the night crawled towards dawn, but still Harry and Oli sat diagonally to each other. At some point Liam came in. He had Harry’s broken phone in his pocket and a sad look on his face. Oli eyed him warily, but Liam just clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder and sank into the chair next to him. Some time after that another Tomlinson came over and sat next to Oli. Harry didn’t know his name, but he’d been at the warehouse. Harry could so clearly picture him glaring at Harry over the barrel of his gun. Before long there were a handful of them who had migrated around Harry and finally he realized what it was. He was surrounded on all sides. He was protected.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: I got really good at outlining this year! And being a bit more strict on myself about making sure I have things properly planned before I start writing (can you tell I've had problems with this in the past lmao). I also picked back up something I'd put aside that I was really afraid to try to rework and had convinced myself wasn't worth the effort. So I think trusting myself and the process more in general.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: I think maybe be a bit more risk taking lmao. I tend to play things safe or overthink everything, but I think some of the best stuff happens when you let yourself get a little silly.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): 2024 was the year of @red-pandaaa saving my ass every 5 minutes lmao. We started working together at the end of last year and they helped with everything - beta reading, cheerleading, listening to me bitching and moaning. Oh and the friendship was nice too 🤣

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: Oh for sure, always. A lot of Louis in sb! was based off a friend of mine (actually a lot of sb! I pulled real life experiences for). I'm always putting places I've been, food I've eaten, weird personality quirks I have or friends have in fics.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Always know the ending before you start. You don't always need to know how to get there, but at least know where you're going.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I'm really excited to get back to the fic I put on hold in the summer. I think I'll start working on that in January (once edits for you're all i ever dreamed of are finished!!!)

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@blueskiesrry @petitommo @wishingforloushair @28goldens @lunarheslwt @larry-hiatus

[onirislanding]

WIP Weekend!

Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I'll write 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP! (No limit on number of emojis you can send) . Thank you @tinytalkingtina for tagging me again, I needed this!

🦸 the only heroes we got left (are written right before us) aka the final installment of The Milk and the Honey/Before Sunrise/Strangers on a train AU where Steve and Eddie meet for the first time in 1991 on a Metro North from New Haven to NYC. This story shows their lives in 2007. Anything posted for it will be under a cut because spoilers.

🧟Catch My Soul zombie!AU that leans heavily on Warm Bodies. Eddie's alive, except he's dead. He has a run-in with post-apocalyptic soldier Steve that might change all that. I'm at least 3/4 done with this bad boy and would love to bring it into the home stretch.

⚡In a black sky (where your dreams collide) Steddie trapped in the UD and trying to find their way out together.

🧠 I Walk the Distance in My Mind. Eddie could be the key to getting Max back. He does NOT like this.

🃏 WILDCARD - Ask for a snippet of anything in a verse I've written here or on Ao3

If you'd like to write this weekend, consider yourself tagged!

Excerpt from 🧠 below the cut:

“So it’s a mindfight!” Argyle cheers. His plate is just a pile of mashed potatoes and butter, and he takes another bite with gusto. 

“Excuse me?” Eddie asks, leaning so far forward on the couch it’s a wonder he doesn’t tumble to the floor. 

“It won’t be a mindfight,” Eleven says, like this is a normal fucking course of conversation. “I’ll protect him.”

“We’re aiming for more of an extraction,” Will adds. 

“Steve-O,” Argyle says, “these are freaking phantsamagorical, buddy. Nice work with the spuds.” He points to Eddie with his fork. “You’re in for the experience of a lifetime, my dude.”

[hooked-on-elvis]

MY EYES... MY TEARY EYES! 🥹

ABOUT ELVIS AND GLADYS' BOND. ♥

"Watching the snow reminded me of Elvis' mother. She used to say that if snowed in Memphis when Elvis was gone, she always went outside and gathered up enough in a pan to make snowballs for Elvis to see when he came back. She put them in the freezer of the refrigerator to keep. Elvis loved to see it snow at Graceland." Excerpts from "Elvis: This One's For You" by Arlene Cogan.

No wonder why EP missed his mother dearly. There's many types of moms but the Gladys type of mommy is a true blessing - the ones which heart's that almost burst while trying to make you feel their love for you. It's almost a physical need to pour love in their children every way they can. Towards their children, they have all love languages at once: words of encouragement, sound advice, physical touch/cuddles, actions… It's suffocating, but in a wonderful way. Gladys Love Presley was the sweetest mom anyone could wish for. EP was fortunate in many ways - starting from his family - but what a misfortune was to lose Gladys so early in his life. Love is a dangerous splendid thing anyway. It's best to have it and lose it than never being touched by it. Gladys' love for her son was bigger than life anyway. ♥ -- Note: The excerpt from that book reminded me this footage below, where Gladys is playing with the snow with Vernon (C. January, 1958). There's also another book that mentions her saving some snow so that Elvis could see it later when he came back home (i don't remember what book, unfortunately, but I've read this before).

Above, pictures takes in 1957, during "Loving You" movie production. Gladys actually appears on the big screen for a few seconds in this Presley early movie. EP dances next to her while singing "Got A Lot O' Livin' To Do" by the end of the movie… It's so cute!

Photo 5-13: March 23-24th, 1958

Elvis was about to be inducted in the US Army. The photos showing the Presley's alone were taken March 23rd, a day before Elvis' army induction day. On the actual induction day, on March 24th (pictures 11-13), there's footage where EP's hopping a bus together with other fellow guys, heading to the army camp to the beginning of the basic trainning and his 2-year epic journey as Private Presley in the U.S. Army. Gladys was visibly shaken and heartbroken to see her beloved son go away and the reason why. Some family members and friends said Gladys was terrified thinking about the horrors of World War II that she seriously feared for Elvis' life and well-being as a soldier. She never got over it, even though Elvis and everybody else tried to convince her nothing was going to happen, after all they were living at the Cold War period, therefore there wasn't reasonable reasons in being anxiously alarmed. Nothing seemed to comfort Gladys. We know she sadly passed away on August, 1958, a few months after Elvis was inducted in the army. Years later, EP would say to one of his intimate acquaintances "my mommy really worried to death." It's so sad... in a poetic way. IDK what I'm talking about right now… It's like she couldn't live without her little boy, literally. Gladys was so close to her son! The reciprocity is true. She was the only person EP trusted blindfolded, with all his heart, body, mind and soul. Gladys only had the best intentions for her son. She didn't care about the money or fame. She actually asked him many time if it wouldn't be better/safer if he gave up his career and just became a business man, a owner of some local company in Memphis/TN, got married, had his own family, and lived a nice, calm, Southern life. EP used to get upset with that "nonsense" talk, because he loved his career greatly and everything was working out just fine for him... he was in love with his music and his fans. He was born to be the King of Rock and Roll and he worked very hard for it every single day. It wasn't right to chicken up. He wouldn't give it up his career, even for his beloved mommy. Yet, Gladys couldn't help herself but to worry something bad could happen if she was not by his side 24/7. A typical loving mom behavior. Even when she acted overprotective like that and drove Elvis insane sometimes, it was all out of the purest heavenly true love... and he knew it.

Although she was uneasy most of the time, thinking about Elvis' well being, the constant travelling on the road all the time, having tabloids badmouthing him, a portion of American society threatening to put him in jail, crazy passionate fans scratching the hell out of him, trying to touch him to the point they'd tear his clothes off his body, even so Gladys supported Elvis' career and was by his side whatever he decided to do. He knew how blessed he was having her for his mother, and Elvis did his best to protect his mommy's heart - even by hiding some of the bad happenings in his life from her. He wouldn't let anything break her heart... even himself.

Yet, so soon the day came when she was gone. Elvis never ceased missing his mommy.

Shantay Perrish, a dedicated fan shared the following story: "We arrived about 7:00 pm that following evening and were shocked to see Elvis leaving on his Harley with a blue flower arrangement strapped to the rear. I quickly went to the guard house shack and asked Harold Lloyd, "Is that who I think it was?" Harold said, "Yes that was Elvis, but don't follow him." We waited there and he returned to Graceland within the hour. Earlier that day we had gone to pay our respect to his mother at Forest Hill, never thinking of Elvis possibly showing up. The next morning we again went to Forest Hill Cemetery and there on Gladys grave was the arrangement of blue flowers we had seen the night before on the motorcycle. Elvis had been to visit his mother in a quiet personal moment."

Photos and excerpt from the book "Elvis Behind the Image."

This event possibly took place circa August 11th, 1977. A few days before Elvis Presley sadly passed away on August 16th. The photo 1 shows Elvis leaving Graceland that day and the photo 2 is Gladys' grave site with the blue flower arrangement he placed there for his mommy for one last time. Elvis assured to send flowers there often over the years since Gladys' passing, but this time he delivered it there himself. Isn't intriguing, to say the least?

Oh, mama liked the roses but most of all she cared About the way we learned to live And if we said our prayers Oh, mama liked the roses in such a special way We bring them every Mother's Day And put them on her grave Oh, mama liked the roses Mmmm Mama liked the roses

In loving memory of Gladys Love Presley ♥

[ahyperactivehero]

2024 WRITING REVIEW

tagged by @acediscowlng (thank you!!)

stress free tags!: @genevievefangirl @fairandfatalasfair @makemeimmortalwithahug

number of stories posted to ao3: 22, with all of them being Dead Boy Detectives lol

word counted posted for last year: assuming this is for 2024 that would be..... 264,426 words. Or at least that's what I posted to ao3, because I know I shared some on here that I didn't over there. If you can't tell, I found a new hyper fixation lol

fandoms i wrote for: Dead Boy Detectives

pairings: Payneland I think was the only pairing? I don't think I even did any Niko or Crystal, which is kinda crazy lol

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads:

kudos: the phantoms here will never have their fill: 5 times the boys have to deal with poltergeists (a couple being themselves, of course)

bookmarks: once again, that would be the phantoms here will never have their fill (it was my first dbda fic, so neither one of these is surprising

comment threads: Séances and Summonings (and Screaming) : Edwin is summoned back to St Hilarion's in front of Charles, much to both of their panic. (and hey look, one that's not phantoms lol!)

work i’m most proud of (and why):

as annoying as it is to list it three times on here, probably the phantoms here will never have their fill. This fic was what got me really back into fic writing for the first time in over a year, and it motivated me to write a whole lot more for this fandom. I also love fics exploring things like "true forms" and the consequences of ghosts leaning too heavily into the "ghost" thing, so this one was a real treat to write.

I also want to mention late for this, late for that because it was the first (and so far only) soulmate fic I've ever written! I don't think it's necessarily the best or "groundbreaking" as far as soulmate fics or dbda fandom goes, but it was fun (and sad) to write!

(and of course Séances and Summonings (and Screaming) gets another reference here, because I do so love the horror aspect of it lol)

work i’m least proud of (and why):

probably a toss up between Would We Survive In A Horror Movie? or Not Orpheus and Not Eurydice (just me and just you)

I lost the original notebook that had a lot of Horror Movie plotted in it, which sort of killed a lot of my motivation for it and makes me look at it less than favorably. And Not Orpheus and Not Eurydice has a plot in it that I really, really want to write again, but I feel like I sort of wasted it by banging it out in a day and posting it because I wanted to be on time for that day's prompt.

share or describe a favorite review you received: lol just one? okay, probably this one then!

(obviously this person is being very generous with their comment, but I think this was the first comment that sort of made it click in my head that I wanted to keep writing for this fandom, so thank you!)

a time when writing was really, really hard: honestly, here recently. It's not even that I don't have the words or plot or motivation, it's purely time and attention span lol. But I'm hoping to fix that in the new year!

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I actually really, really like writing Crystal. I was also a kid who should have been supervised more and ran out an did stupid things and lashed out at people first so I didn't "get hurt." (that does not maker her any easier for me to write, however lol)

a favourite excerpt of your writing:

.... I tend to forget what I've written after it's posted, but I did find this one!

“I am in love with you, Edwin Payne,” he said. He took great care to enunciate each syllable, to make his message as clear as possible. He had never said anything as important as what he was saying right now, and he needed his meaning to be clear.

Edwin’s face was carefully blank. Not scared or confused or worried, just blank.

When Charles had pictured himself confessing to someone that he loved them it had been nothing like this. There had been less blood and pain, for one, but he’d also expected some sort of reaction. Acceptance, rejection, maybe even love back.

He’d never expected the person to completely blank out on him. - It Was Worth A Wound

how did you grow as a writer last year:

I think I became more consistent with my writing. Not necessarily the style or anything but just doing it more consistently. I regularly go to coffee shops and write now, I make sure I take time to do it at least a little bit every day (or plan for the days I know I won't have time), and I've even had a semi- consistent posting schedule where at least one of my fics gets updated once a week.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.)

shoutout to a few of people here! @fairandfatalasfair for always being down to talk about anything dbda, but especially my hockey fic. @genevievefangirl for putting me on her rec lists and telling me about the server! and @sonofhelios2005 who always gives the most wonderful comments on my fics! I couldn't do it without y'all! (and everyone else who has been so kind to be in this fandom!!)

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: there are several references to the ttrpgs I run, but they are only noticing to my irl friends who play them (and I hope they never read these fics lol)

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: cliche as always, but write, write, write. That is the only way you get better! Well, that and reading. And reading broadly, even if you don't think you'd be interested in it.

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year?

Hockey AU is going to start being posted this month (I hope anyways lol) and I am hoping to finish two of my other fics off before March??? that might be generous though lol

(sorry this got sooooo long everyone lol! I hope you all have a wonderful New Year!)

[red-panda-28]

Writing Self-Evaluation 2024

thank you @haztobegood for tagging me! (also, since i'm also a Podficcer, this isn't solely about writing and has some podfic stuff mixed into it)

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 100! (as of today)

2. Word count posted for the year: 44,393 (plus 441 minutes in Podfics)

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction (Band), Deadpool (All Media Types), Spider-Man (All Media Types), Deadpool & Wolverine (2024)

4. Pairings: Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

5. Story with the most: Kudos: tingling right from my head to my toes Bookmarks: Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before) Comments: Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before)

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): i think it's actually tingling right from my head to my toes. i dug around my blog and found 'Writing Goals 2024' and one was to write for other fandoms (again). it took me almost all year, but i managed it!

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): in some ways, i'm proud of all my works and thankful how they shaped me in their own way.

8. Share or describe a favourite review you received: this is not a specific review but i've had a couple people by now tell me how much they enjoy listening to my podfics (and how they find my voice soothing). that really means a lot and i'm happy people get that enjoyment out of my recordings

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: basically all year. i've been struggling a lot with writer's block and even though i was writing and posting, it felt like i lost my Spark™️.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: writing Logan (Worst Wolverine). beginning of the year i didn't even imagine to ever write Wade in another pairing besides SpideyPool but then i watched Deadpool & Wolverine and here we are XD

11. A favourite excerpt of your writing: this is from my fic for the @1daroaceficfest which i hold very close to my heart. i kinda hope that maybe some people remember that :)

“Not that it concerns anyone,” he started, a hard set to his mouth. “And I would really wish that people would start seeing actors as people and not just objects used like props in a film.” Harry took a deep breath, outwardly oddly calm for the way his heart was racing in the face of what he was about to do. “Furthermore, I’d like to remind everyone that some people don’t have sex. And while there can be different reasons for that, that only they and the people they choose to tell are privy to, in my case, it is because I am asexual. I don’t experience sexual attraction. And while I feel rather neutral towards sex, I still don’t have it. It’s just something I don’t experience. So please, the next time you want to ask someone about their sex life, stop for a second and ask yourself, do I really need to know this information, or am I just nosy? And then hopefully make the right decision.”

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: i like to think i kept a nice balance between trying to overcome my writer's block while also not forcing anything... and eventually found my Spark™️ again. i also got back into the SpideyPool/Marvel Fandom for which i ended up writing 3 fics.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: i really wanna try keep my Spark™️ and maybe even make it grow. also, i hope to actually plan out/write a longer fic again; i have so many amazing prompts that can't and don't deserve to get squeezed into 10K.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): massive, massive thanks goes to @harruandlou who patiently listened to me whine about my WB, kept encouraging me and celebrated with me, when i got back into the swing of things (and who supported me in pursues as a Podficcer!). i also wanna give a huge shout out to the Isn't It Bromantic? server and all those amazing people there (representative: @farmhandler @waterme-stories @babyboysnek)

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: i don't think so? at least nothing i can think of top of my head...

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: don't force anything. (especially in fanfic) writing is supposed to be fun. it's okay to take a break, focus on other hobbies for a while and every now and then poke at your brain to see if the motivation came back.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: as of right now, the only project i'm excited for is hosting the @1daroaceficfest for a second round!

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

tagging with no pressure (if you already did this, sorry and feel free to tag me so i can read it!): @lululawrence @harruandlou @lunarheslwt @enchantedlandcoffee @the-larry-way @parmahamlarrie

[polarisbibliotheque]

Silly music post? Silly music post :)

Since Dante's Halloween Fanfic was pretty much (Ghost) Riders In The Sky, by Johnny Cash, being that even the name of the thing, here's your pocket writer searching for Vergil's soundtrack to get me on the right ~writing vibes~

I mentioned before, I kinda have a thing with music and colors, and trying to find a more bluish song on my playlist PAIN. I'm very much in a reddish mood currently, so I had to do some digging for the bluish, purple-ish ones.

Ignore the crazy talk

I got some pretty wonderful gems to go with Vergil, starting at:

Self Control, by Laura Branigan

You know. "I live among the creatures of the night", "I'm living in the forest of a dream", "I know the night is not as it would seem", "You're walking down the street of my soul", lots of amazing lyrics there.

Also, dancing will play a huge part in his Halloween Special. So I figured a dance-y music could be awesome, but... I couldn't find anything that worked really well as a title.

But the vibes are *chef's kiss*

Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler

This song is absurd. I'll never not think she's one hell of a singer, her voice is out of this world. Also, lyrics about vampires being in love? Gothic vibes? 10/10 Vergil, love it.

But I either needed something more powerful or more loving, and the lyrics on this one is very much... Heartbreaking. More bittersweet, even leaning to unrequited love or a love that ended.

Still one hell of an anthem, that "I really need you tonight" at the end is AH! amazing climax for the song.

Spöksonat, Ghost

Not even a minute of pure harp instrumental, but Ghost Sonata is pretty much a good way to sum up Vergil's Halloween Special this year.

Eerie, beautiful, slightly creepy, ethereal, 10/10. I wanted some lyrics, but this one is the choice if I don't find anything else.

The Hand That Feeds, Nine Inch Nails

Lyrically speaking, this is THE song. It's pretty much dance-y, even though not the dark vibes I had in mind. But it's very VERY much in line with the story so far.

I couldn't find a small excerpt of the lyrics that fit with the title vibes I want to use as THE theme, though. Nevertheless, it's gonna be a major inspiration while I'm writing, have that in mind ;)

All The Love In The World, Nine Inch Nails

Same thing with the other one above, lyrically it's THE thing, but I can't find something to use as THE title. It'll serve very much as overall inspiration while writing, though.

Lots of existentialism I wanna put there from Vergil's thoughts and self-loathing to some extent.

(I'm not an easy person by all means, but if someone ever invited me to a date like "hey, wanna go to the [local goth club] to dance all night, it's a Nine Inch Nails Special tonight 'til 5 a.m" I'd seriously marry the hell out of them)

Walking In My Shoes, by Depeche Mode

Enter them, the unconquered kings of their own style of music, the stars glistening in the dark skies. I was like "OH YES. THIS. THIS IS THE SONG".

It has the vibes, the colors, the lingering sense of danger/temptation, and the lyrics are everything I've ever wanted. Very VERY much in line with the Halloween Special. This is The Theme™.

(You know what I said above, the date? If the person invites me to a Depeche Mode special night, they'll only leave the club married to me, non-refundable and non-negotiable. Bonus points if they dress like Martin Gore, then I'm floored and lost for eternity in their soul)

So now, there you go. You have a playlist of songs that inspire me and I am preeeeetty sure would be in Vergil's playlist as well, 'cause he's not the type of guy to listen ~only~ to classical music.

I've said it before, I accepted him as a goth in my heart. And not style-wise, music and vibes wise. While everyone thinks he's listening to Bach, my man is blasting Sisters of Mercy in his headphones.

I hope you enjoy the music while I work on writing! It's coming up eventually, hopefully before Christmas "^^

[storyspinner91]

Twenty Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @littleblackraincloudofcourse

Tagging @lowkeyed1 @evodevo-geekmonkey @dianels @bisexualshakespeare @spybrarian @blackdalek

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 

7 (3 are WiP)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 

186,452

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Willow! ...Technically other things too but really it's just Willow with playful skins.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Red Embers: dark alternate future AU, resistance fighters against the Wyrm's tyranny, grim & gritty

Like Constellations, a Million Years Away: sprawling mecha sci-fi AU set in the world of the Lancer tabletop roleplaying game. The Questies all pilot giant mechs; four books (2 done), one focused on each of Jade, Kit, Graydon, and Elora (in that order). Posthumanism, anticolonial to the extent a fanfic can be, utopian, dramatic.

Soft Blazing Crowns: Tanthamoretober one-shot. Modern AU. Elora helps Jade with a sexy photoshoot for a gift for Kit.

Full: (E-rated) Tanthamoretober one-shot. Modern AU. Straight-up smut drabble, 100 words on the dot. Extremely funny to me that this is in the top 5. :P

The Loving Hurt: Canon-set one-shot digging into the violence implied by the canon against the Bone Reavers, Scorpia's backstory, how Jade got her name. Dark, grim, not pleasant to write and in some ways probably not to read TBH. I was in A Mood!

5. Do you respond to comments?

Religiously! Sometimes it takes me a while, but I do.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? 

Hmmm. I mean I think it's gotta be The Loving Hurt. Like I said. Dark. Blame the show's writers, I do. :P

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? 

Gonna resist the temptation to say Full and instead say I think that it'll probably be Flawless Five vol. 1 when it's finished in a few weeks!

8. Do you get hate on fics? 

Not so far!

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

The only thing I'd consider smut is Full. Otherwise, not anywhere that you can see. ;)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? 

No true crossovers, though Like Constellations is set (loosely) in the Lancer Universe.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so! They're too weird!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

No but I'd be so honored.

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

Nope!

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

I am a Tanthamore diehard, what can I say.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? 

If you'd asked me recently I'd probably have said "all of them." Fortunately I'm feeling a little better lately! I hope to finish all of the current ones; Constellations is a slow, weighty project, F5 I hope to have done very shortly, Embers...we'll figure that out after F5.

16. What are your writing strengths? 

I think I'm pretty good at dialogue, and I'm decent though not incredible at humor (especially character-based humor). I'm also a decent mimic - though this can feel a little clunky sometimes, I think I'm able to adjust my voice pretty easily to suit a situation, genre, or style. My unhinged and unpopular fic Excerpts from a new translation... is a pretty good example of that, lol. And on that note: I have a lot of fun with wacky metatextual stuff.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Taking the wacky meta stuff too far; not being bold enough in straying from the established character arcs/plots in canon; I don't think I'm great at writing really juicy interiority. Starting very large projects that will take forever to finish. ':)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? 

I'm comfortable enough in Spanish to write simple dialogue in that language. I've done one line in Latin (which I'm comfortable with since it's functionally a dead language) and made up some words in a conlang for Constellations. Wouldn't try anything via Google Translate though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Willow! At least if we count conscious fanfiction. If we're going back to the Days of Yore probably Animorphs when I was a wee one.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? 

Difficult to pick...but Like Constellations is the baby, the one I'll finish come hell or high water (I hope). On the other hand, Flawless Five is probably the most fun (to write, and maybe to read if you like that sort of thing) and Red Embers is the one that in many ways I find most exciting. Like I said - hard to choose!

[surrealisticduvet]

Album Review: Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash (1973)

I’d like to start this review with another excerpt from liner notes - please indulge me. It will become relevant in a few paragraphs. 

“Mine has been built on logic, which is probably one of the subtlest traps going... that whole 2+2 trip... the logical development that leads to fear of anything outside itself... ... Music was always the gum in those works... All that thinking went to hell when the music came. I'd be sitting around, immersed in this bubble-bath serenity of having figured something out... put right into its nice little orderly spot, and then - WHAMO - I've got to deal with music... no reason... no basis other than just its purest expression…”

Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash (the one where he’s doing the George Harrison wink on the cover, next to the words “Buy This Record / Compact Disc”) was the last album for Michael’s RCA contract, and it did about as well as the first five did (guess the subliminal messaging didn't work...) What makes this record stand out from the others is that it was recorded with a group of artists from his own Countryside label - which was somewhat by chance in terms of the timing - as opposed to with a dedicated band, or in a duo.

(pretty much your standard rambly review... below the cut!)

Favorite parts of the album:

I think recording with the Countryside group was a great call and very fortunate - the musicality of this record is really iconic, and if you weren’t familiar with the track listing, you could still instantly pick out these songs as parts of the Ranch Stash sound. It’s made up of a rather simple but effective steely guitar strum, in uncomplicated keys, and it suits the songs on this record perfectly. This is not his most technically complicated, his most ambitious, or his most poetic album – but it does have a fantastic, self-sufficient sound, and if I wanted to put on something of his to listen to casually without having to worry about lyrics or themes, I might reach for this one. Another quote from the liner notes:

“The music was just the music. Not really earthshattering, mind- blowing, brilliant... none of that. Just music. This whole album was one of those conversations me and the music had. Don't get fooled by the lyrics... Lyrics aren't really the communicative part... Lyrics are just the logical part for people who are into that…”

The lyrics on this album are good, albeit a little simple at times. There’s nothing really experimental here, except for “The Back Porch and a Fruit Jar Full of Iced Tea” and the words (a medley of a poem and a song written by someone else) are not what makes it a fantastic song – it is the music and presentation. 

Other hits from the record (well, to me – not to the charts) include “Some of Shelly’s Blues," a well-deserved staple for live performances, and “Prairie Lullaby,” where he sweetly yodels a loved one to sleep. There’s an alternate version of “Marie’s Theme” on the extended release as well, which is pretty good if you’re not up for the cinematically trailing original edition on The Prison. “Born to Love You” is perennial, albeit simple, and “Winonah” is apparently hailed by critics as one of his most true-to-form country-style songs, although it’s rather low on my own personal favorites list.

Critiques:

Only three and a half of the seven songs were written by Michael (he co-wrote “Winonah”), although I suppose at exactly 50% that’s not bad, but it feels less substantial than usual. His line about the lyrics being set by the wayside for this one does kind of ring true. 

Conclusion:

Can I first of all just say, it is amazing that his records so far are so highly rated – rateyourmusic is certainly NOT the end-all-be-all of music journalism, and the ratings are highly subjective (but it's where I'm at, lol) -- but for a secondary-career solo artist’s first six albums to average at over 3.5/5 stars is very impressive, in my opinion. I really can’t say enough how good and inspired I think his music is. That being said- 

With Ranch Stash, I think he was really nearing a point where he needed to try something new and invigorating, and he certainly achieved that (spoiler) on his next record-slash-project. He was branching out into many directions, struggling with some personal things, and not doing great financially – I don’t want to say that this album suffered because of any of this, but it makes sense why it didn’t try to be more ambitious. It “kept it simple, stupid” in a very modest and effective way, and it’s still great to listen to. In fact I’m very glad that he had a set of studio musicians who could support him in this way, which is something he always longed for. He seemed self-aware of these external influences and, once again with those liner notes, sort of sums up the philosophy behind the album with this:

“And if I come to a fork in the road, I don't panic anymore, I just assume that one is the road and the other is a road off to the side.”

[splendsay]

Chapter Drop // Callsign: Sunshine

Chapter 6: Diamond Ace

CWs: Gun(s), Potentially triggering food/body language Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Captain John Price, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Reader (You) Story Summary: You're a renowned expert marksman in the U.S. military. Or -- you were. Before everything went to hell. Now, you live in hiding, relying on your deadly, albeit limited, skillset for survival. Until one day, you get a call. Chapter Excerpt:

The silent tension that settled over the kitchen upon Ghost's arrival has grown so thick you can practically cut through it.

To your surprise, it's Captain Price that finally breaks it, by addressing you. 

"So, er -- these two," he gestures to Soap and Gaz. "Will be off after tomorrow on a couple private missions of their own. Chief Laswell and I've got some business to attend to a few hours south, so I er -- I'm leaving you in -- Ghost's care for a couple weeks."

You struggle to swallow the bit of grilled cheese currently lodged in your throat. Even Ghost seems surprised by this information, because his arm freezes mid-air. He'd been spooning soup to his mouth, the only part of his face currently exposed to air besides his eyes. He silently slides those eyes to Price, an unspoken question there. 

Price merely gives him a look that says, "Not up for discussion," and Ghost is moving again, slurping with unrepentant apathy. 

"He'll work on training you," Price continues. "Get you--"

"I don't need training," you cut in. 

Soap and Gaz exchange another pointed glance. Price brings his hands to the table, offering them to you in a placating manner. 

"I understand you might feel that way, Sunshine, but the fact is, you've been inactive for more than a year. To say nothing of your physic--"

"I'll be fine. I am fine."

Price sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, shuttering his eyes. "Be that as it may -- you're staying here. And Ghost with you. How you two choose to spend that time I suppose is less of a concern to me than whether or not you eat. Rest. Regain your strength."

You snort and cross your arms over your chest. 

"Fine."

You maintain a glare at Price, though there isn't a ton of power behind it. You're exhausted. And you've about had your fill of strangers for one day. Or two days. However fucking many days it's been. With a huff, you shove yourself back from the table, your sandwich half-eaten, your bowl of soup still full. 

It was too much, anyway, you tell yourself. Your stomach is probably the size of a walnut. 

"I'm going to bed."

Nobody stops you as you stalk out the door into the crisp hallway beyond. 

----------------------------------------------------------- Links to: Spotify Playlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

[youmaycallmeyourhighness]

"Can I ask you something?" Carmen says hesitantly. "Sure." Mirabel shrugs. "Why do you keep going over there?" Carmen gestures her head in the direction of Casita, but her eyes stay fixed at the table cloth. "I mean, you obviously don't enjoy it…" Instead of responding right away, Mirabel focuses on her work, beading the dozenth necklace, following the pattern that came before. Blue, light blue, green glass, solid green, small charm, beads, big charm. Repeat. She turns it over in her head. There are a lot of things she could say, some not so nice, but all true. She's asked herself that question a lot, and the answers are as complicated as they are simple. She does and also doesn't know why she keeps trying with them. But that's not for Carmen's ears, so she tells her…not The Truth, but not A Lie either; "It's my mom, really. It's like she expects some….miracle. Like we'll have the perfect dinner, and everything will be amazing, and I'll wanna move back in. But I don't. And I don't wanna make her sad cuz I know she's trying, but like…" Mirabel trails off as she looks around at her home, her home, with enough space for her stuff. Yeah, it's quieter than she'd like, and she has to get used to cooking for herself, but it's hers. She does what she wants, when she wants and she doesn't have to justify it to anyone. Mirabel hadn't realized how tense she was until she got out of there. "I don't live there anymore." Mirabel states.

I have this thing where I'll make an AU out of a single scenario I really want to write and once I start building around it, I find other things that I like, and I'll split it into something else, and I'll do it again and again and again until I have like 5 different WIPs with the same premise but they can't exist in the same universe.

So this excerpt from The Jewel in My Eye, Shop of The Lost, Dressmaker!Mirabel and like 3 other WIPs I've never shared on here are all progenies of the same idea; Mirabel moving out of Casita and discovering who she is outside of her family's influence.

This was originally just for Shop of The Lost, it was going to be a biiig fic but there was too much going on and I liked the ideas too much to throw them away, so they became their own au.

Following Antonio's ceremony, Mirabel is desperate for an apprenticeship, she's been asking since she was 12 (she's 17 now) and all the other kids at school started to get them. Everytime she brings it up it turns into a fight, and she can’t get one on her own, no one's excited to get on Doña Alma's bad side. Alma doesn't want the Madrigals accepting money or doing trade, they were given this Miracle to share with others and she's firm on that. Madrigals don't do Trade.

Now Francisco Peréz was a jewler, one of the more successful ones in the Encanto, as they have lots of business outside. He's retired now, and his children manage the business. He's too old to be afraid of Alma, and Mirabel's a nice girl, so he decides to teach her as he's got a small set-up in his home, and when people ask, he tells them Mirabel's "helping around the house". She learns engraving, and goldsmithing and what not, but it's only a matter of time until she's found out.

Alma is furious that Mirabel went behind her back to do this and even more so when Mirabel refuses to quit.

It's not fair that she’s always pushed to the side. It's not fair that she can't even work. And it's not fair that just because she hid it, she "doesn't have a foot to stand on". The family's all, well Mirabel you did technically lie and disobey and you know the rules blah blah blah. She talks to Francisco and he's like, well since the cats out of the bag you can just work at the shop now, my son needs some help anyway.

Which is great news! But Mirabel isn’t an adult yet, so she has to wait. During those months of waiting, her relationship with the family sours (more than it already has), she's kept on a tight leash and can't step a toe out of line. She becomes dissolusioned with the family, and the night of her 18th birthday she leaves the house and starts working at the Peréz's jewelry studio.

And the first thing they do is ship her out town the next morning to learn how they get supplies. Alma tells the Peréz's to fire Mirabel and they're like; oh, uh.....No. The Peréz's are a bit...proud, being on of the richest families in town and Abuelo Francisco said she's working here, so she's working here.

Mirabel is very happy learning all these new things and making her own jewelry and its hard that her family is trying their best to punish her for it. She becomes very distant and throws herself into her work, as the years go by she gets more responsibilities until she spends half her time outside the Encanto, collecting supplies and selling merchandise. Julieta has to practically beg her to visit.

@morimementa sorry this took forever, life has been....interesting since I started this draft. I hope you like it 🙂

[writerwhowritesao3]

What Is And What Should Never Be Chapter 5: June, 1985

Excerpt:

A crack of lightning lit up the sky. The accompanying thunder rumbled immediately after.

"Billy. Can you just get in the car, please?" 

Billy pressed his lips together, like he was about to keep arguing. But then, thank God, he opened the passenger door and got in. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Billy shivered in his seat; he was completely soaked, from his head to his shoes. Jim wished he had a towel or a blanket or something to give him, but he didn't. Billy reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled and flat pack of cigarettes. It was, predictably, also wet. Billy opened it anyway. When he saw that the cigarettes inside were ruined, he sighed and let his head fall back on the headrest. 

Jim pulled out his own pack of smokes from the center console and held it out to Billy. He mumbled a thanks and accepted one. Jim handed him a matchbook and took a cigarette for himself. 

In the grand scheme of things, was giving a teenager a cig really that bad?

"You know how stupid it is to be out here like this, right?" Jim asked. 

Billy kept his eyes on the windshield, watching the rain hit the glass. 

"Coulda gotten hit by a car," Jim continued. "Coulda slipped and broken your ankle or something."

Billy still gave no response. He kept puffing away at his smoke.

"What if something from the Upside Down came through and attacked you? Did you even think about that? What was the plan if that happened?"

"Run fast," Billy finally said with a shrug. 

Jim sighed and started the car. 

"So," he said. "Just decided to take a walk, huh?"

"Mmhm."

Jim knew in his gut that that was a load of horseshit. He wanted to ask Billy directly if something had happened at home. Something that made him run out, even in the middle of a storm. He didn't have any bruises, at least. Not visible ones anyway. But that didn't mean anything. 

"Haven't seen you in a while," Jim said casually. "Been keeping busy?"

"Yeah. I've been taking a lot of shifts at the pool," Billy said. "Need to save up for college and stuff."

"That's great! How are things at the pool? You like it?"

"It's alright. I mean, it's a job, you know?"

"Sure, I get that," Jim nodded. 

"My coworkers are total dicks. Except for this one girl. She's pretty cool."

"Oh yeah?" Jim asked. He decided to tease him a little. "You gonna ask her out?"

Billy snorted. 

"Aren't you not supposed to shit where you eat?" he said.

Jim laughed. 

"Smart," he said. "That little life lesson usually takes a few years to learn."

Billy didn't respond. He took a final drag of his cig, stubbed it on the inside of the top flap of his ruined pack, and slipped the butt inside. Jim remembered that he didn't just toss the butt like most people did.

"How's everything otherwise?" Jim said, desperate to keep a conversation going. 

"It's fine."

"You get to hang out with your friends more now that school's out?"

"Not really," Billy said. "I'm scheduled during the day and weekends a lot. And Nancy and Jonathan are at the Post every day. And Steve's been scheduled for a bunch of evening shifts. So. We've only been able to hang out a couple times, like, as a group. Sometimes Steve and I have the same day off though. But, like, sometimes there's family shit we have to do."

Jim nodded. He didn't want to tell Billy that finding the time to see your friends only got harder as an adult. The kid seemed glum enough already.

"How is your family?" Jim asked.

"Fine."

"Max?"

"Annoying. But fine. Isn't she, like, always at your house?"

"Yeah, but I'm usually at the station when she's over," Jim said. "Your stepmom? She's doing okay?"

"Mmhm."

"And your dad?"

"He's fine."

"I think I overheard Max mention to El that his hours were cut?" Jim asked with a carefully casual tone.

"Oh...yeah," Billy said. "It was a union thing. It's done now, though, so he's working regular hours again."

Security guards had unions. Labor unions had disputes all the time. It was certainly plausible that Neil Hargrove's hours had been cut because of a union thing. Logically, Jim had no reason to not believe Billy. 

"Gotta stick with the union, right?"

"My dad isn't a scab," Billy said.

Billy was defending his father's honor. It was entirely possible that Neil Hargrove was the type of parent who taught his son about labor unions and fair wages, and who imparted values like 'don't be a dirty scab'. It was possible that Neil Hargrove wasn't the type of parent who beat his son—or if he was, it was possible that he didn't cross the line between legal corporal punishment and abuse.

But it was also possible that Neil Hargrove was abusive. It was possible that Jim's gut feeling about him was spot-on.