#and since there’s a break i have time to draw more scenes from last week

[dirtgrubber]

“your favorite part, hmm?”

chapter 29- Of Saints And Sinners by @morningstarwrites

[aothotties]

Some more Farmer!Reiner for everyone

Warnings: MDNl, Cunnilingus (f. receiving), fingering, a lil fluff at the end.

◝꒰ ´ ˘ `♡ ꒱

Farmer!Reiner becomes your new best friend within the first few weeks of your stay.

Farmer!Reiner who learns that you're opening up a small bakery in town and would love to be business partners.

Farmer!Reiner brings you your order with a few extra cartons of eggs or gallons of milk just because he can.

Farmer!Reiner does these things out of the kindness of his big heart, and in hopes that you'll let him take you on a date.

Farmer!Reiner is shocked when it's you who asks him out before he even gets the chance to.

Farmer!Reiner promises to be on his best behavior for your date tonight so that he won't scare you off.

Farmer!Reiner is about to lose an internal battle with himself when he sees how divine you look.

You invite him over to a home-cooked meal and on the off chance the night takes a turn, it's better to be a few feet away from the bed.

Reiner knocks on the door with flowers in his hand and you take a nice long look at him. His blonde hair is washed and styled handsomely, large muscles are bulging under his shirt, Christ, and the way his thighs are screaming under those jeans.

Reiner is no better if not worse than you are. His eyes steadily trail down your curvy figure, if the word perfect had a picture in the dictionary, he's sure the hat they would use one of your pictures to capture the meaning. All he can do is fantasize about what you're hiding under that long skirt, the way your dark skin shimmers due to your body butter entices him.

Farmer!Reiner manages to act civilized while you two have dinner and dessert.

Farmer!Reiner falls in love with you by the second every time he eats more forkfuls of your delightful chocolate cake.

Farmer!Reiner doesn’t let you move a muscle after dinner and insists on doing y’all’s dishes himself.

Farmer!Reiner holds back a moan when you jump up onto the counter next to him and rub his shoulder, mumbling a sweet “thank you”

Farmer!Reiner gets distracted by you telling a story and sprays you both with the faucet.

Farmer!Reiner is standing between your legs while wrapped up in a large blanket since you don't have any clothes his size.

Farmer!Reiner can't help but draw small circles on your thighs while you tell him your entire life story.

Reiner can’t help himself from leaning in just a tad bit too close to attach your lips, but it’s okay because you wanted this just as bad if not more.

Your wraps wrap around the blanket covering his shoulders and he pulls you in as close as he can. You both sigh in contentment as the tension slowly leaves the room with each kiss.

The blanket falls to the floor as he pushes you down so your back is flat against the countertop. You barely have time to react to how quickly your panties are removed and his lips are wrapped around your clit.

“Reiner!” You exclaim, you grip his soft blond locks between your fingers as his tongue switches between your nub and dripping hole.

His poor cock twitches at the sound of his name falling from your lips, his pants growing tighter by the minute. He tests the waters but inserts a finger in your cunt.

You hum at the sensation of his thick finger massaging your walls while his skilled tongue lapped at your clit like a madman.

He adds another finger next to the first one and your back arches off the counter, the scene in front of you has you insanely close.

You make eye contact with Reiner as he gives your bulging clit all the attention she craves. He curves his fingers to rub against your g-spot and you let out a long moan.

“I-I’m coming! Fuck Reiner I’m coming.” You warn, your body twitching in pleasure as you release onto his tongue and fingers.

He drinks up every last drop and pulls away from you to give your poor pussy a break. He stands up fully and wipes his mouth with his thumb.

“Are you okay, I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.” He helps you to your feet, grabs the fallen blanket, and covers your bare half.

“Reiner you’re fine, trust me I enjoyed myself. You’ve got nothing to worry about, are you okay?” You ask, nodding down to the bulge in his pants.

“Don’t worry about me, I want our first time to be special. Or at least not in your kitchen maybe?” He suggests and you let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea for next time.” He places a kiss on your forehead and takes you to the couch.

A movie plays in the background as you two doze off at some point in the night. His clothes are long forgotten in the dryer, but this will be a night to remember

[guardianofnightmares]

Forbidden

At that moment Bumblebee finally realized that he couldn’t keep the paranoid thoughts locked inside his processor anymore.

He desperately needed to speak to his friends, consequences be damned. He had to make sure that he’s not glitched in a processor. That what he got himself into was a right course of action for any good-natured Bot.

... or, rather, for any sensible Prime.

Hence why, after making a deep inhale, a minibot finally forced the dreaded words out of his intake:

"... is it wrong that I feel... bad for the prisoners? That I... periodically... h-help them?"

----------

Hello everyone, long time no see). Can hardly believe it's been a whole year since the last @blitzbee-week event and man, was I glad to participate in it once more. All of works were submitted on time to an event chat, but, unfortunately, I am uploading them here only now (full-time job drains me up).

Anyways, here is my first drawing from BlitzBeeWeek event Promts List. I think it will be fair to mention that this and next couple of my works will be dedicated to my fanfic called "TFA: Icarus". I will leave a link [here] for anyone interested to give it (and an existing teaser) a try. And yes, I am, in fact, going to finally upload first chapters pretty soon, it's happening, guys))). Thanks a ton for everyone who left their kudos there throughout a year, you have given me courage to put this behemoth of a story on paper and actually work it through.

As for the current entry for an event, I will provide part of a draft to one of chapters which is related to a depicted scene. It'll be "hidden" under a cut line for anyone wishing to get a more... fleshed out picture of what's going on here. Hope you'll enjoy reading it)

----------

“Bumblebee… are you listening to me?”

It was beyond confusing for Ratchet to see a younger Bot acting so out of touch with reality. He’s hunched over a console, helm resting in one servo while a wielding tool was twirled slowly in digits of another. Bumblebee looked so tired, clearly not caring about a task at servo, nor about an advice coming from his elder friend.

White and red Autobot knew how cheerful Bumblebee got each time they met via video calls, clearly waiting for a chance to talk to old teammates, even if these calls didn’t last long. That’s why him being so silent and lost in own thoughts was that much more worrying to witness. 

Upon being prompted again, the young bot finally raised his optics, the weight of his gaze almost making Ratchet flinch in surprise - to think that a recently promoted Prime was capable of behaving so out of character was indeed an alarming sign of change. 

The truth was, the minibot couldn’t help but to act all secretive, as if he’s done something wrong. 

Because, all things considered, he has. 

Minibot was well aware of what his actions could lead up to. All those rendezvous and revelations were such a dangerous subject to talk about, something that surely could lead him to being court marshaled if he’s caught by anybot. And what’s even worse - Bumblebee wasn’t certain whether telling friends what’s been troubling him was a good idea. 

Surely they’d not rat him out… but would they continue interacting with a yellow Autobot if he shared said secret with them? Wouldn't it be more mature of him to leave mechs oblivious (in order to protect them) and let his fears to silently fester in his processor?

... yet, to his shame, a minibot felt his resolve to keep his intake shut breaking upon seeing a haunted expression on Ratchet’s faceplates. Bumblebee wished he hadn’t looked up into the wise optics of his, those that seemed to read him as an unlocked datapad. How could he play it cool when a medic was looking at him in such a manner?

“…kid?” Now Ratchet was truly worried for his companion. He wasn’t even certain he’s ready to hear an explanation, but knew in his spark that he had to get to the bottom of a problem for minibot's sake.

At that moment Bumblebee finally realized that he couldn’t keep the paranoid thoughts locked inside his processor anymore.

He desperately needed to speak to his friends, consequences be damned. He had to make sure that he’s not glitched in a processor. That what he got himself into was a right course of action for any good-natured Bot. 

… or, rather, for any sensible Prime. 

Hence why, after making a deep inhale, a minibot finally forced the dreaded words out of his intake:

“… is it wrong that I feel… bad for the prisoners? That I… periodically… h-help them?” 

… a fleeting moment or relief at voicing his concerns instantly evaporated, changed to regret once he saw Racthet’s optics widening beyond usual capacity and heard Optimus sputtering and coughing on his energon ration off the camera. 

Such reaction made Bumblebee hide his helm between shoulder pauldrons in a clear sign of dread - so much for the support coming from teammates it seemed. 

“What?” Optimus asked after standing up from a table he’s sitting next to, the stool screeching audibly after a mech span in it. “Help them? What do you mean by that, Bumblebee? Are you alright? Do they… force you to do something for them or..?”

Minibot didn’t answer any of those questions. Wasn’t able to do it under the searching gaze of an elder mech’s optics which seemed to pin him to his own stool. Bumblebee felt like energon was going to freeze in his lines and tubes from a rising horror. Time seemed to stop for him, not unlike inner mechanisms in a frame of his. He couldn't utter a single sound, words swimming in a jumbled mess that was his processor.

What could he possibly say in his defense, now that his teammates knew of his secret? That there was a proper reason for him to feel pity for the inmates? That he was the only one to keep those mechs alive because nobody else did? That perhaps, Primus help him, all this time they were held in prison, somebot tried to take them out of game by starving them to their deaths?

A yellow Bot clearly hasn’t thought the conversation through, just as he always did, hasn't prepared himself for such a reaction even, and now that mistake was biting his aft. 

But then… then minibot heard something that immediately tore him from a panicking state he got stuck in. 

“I’ll take care of it, Prime.” Ratchet announced in a calm tone, breaking the tense silence which settled over the video call. Bumblebee was so stunned that he didn’t register those words right away, looking dumbly at warm optics of a mech on the other side of a call line. 

“But-“ 

“Optimus.” Medic cut off his commanding officer in a stern but good-natured manner, showing that he knew what he’s doing. Trusting the judgement of an older Bot, red and blue mech nodded to him and stepped away from a console, giving both of his friends some room to talk to each other. 

Young Prime could hardly believe what he’s been witnessing in front of him. Afraid to hope that his situation might’ve not been so dire after all. Baiting his breath, he watched red and white Bot turning to him again and leaning closer to a screen.

“Bumblebee, tell me, what’s happening back on Cybertron.” Ratchet asked his young friend, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, ready to tentatively listen to everything minibot’s about to say. 

And that’s when Bumblebee understood, felt it in his spark which gleefully thrummed in his chest that his old teammates were not mad at him - only worried for his well-being. Said realization made the built up over orbital cycles tension leave his frame and gave him courage to answer as honestly as he could.  

“You don’t know even half of what's going on, guys,” He stated after a breath moment of silence, then scooted on his chair closer to a screen as well and continued speaking in a hushed tone as to not to be heard by anyone else on his side of a video call. 

While retelling the recent events, which took place in Tripticon Prison, young Prime couldn’t help but periodically glance at a screen to his right side, a list of main convicts taking up most of its surface. 

Their stern gazes seemed to burn a viewer with hostility. Evil, cold, sparkless optics on unsightly faceplates. That’s what fellow guards always tended to whisper to each other either in fear or in bold mockery while walking down the hallways.

But to Bumblebee the very same pairs of optics, those he'd looked into more times then any of the local mechs, more then his friends even, told another story. Each time he saw Decepticons, bound and stripped of their weapons, there was no rage in their expressions, nor malice or contempt - only an eternal tiredness, hopelessness... and resignation with Fate.

Warframes. Mighty mechs being brought to their knees and stripped of their pride. Truly a sight which made minibot feel more miserable then three inmates he tried to take care of.

“Bossbot… Ratchet… please, come back here as soon as you can," Recently promoted Prime finally said as a conclusion to his speech. "I… I am afraid I won’t be able to handle this situation on my own anymore.”

[writeonwhiskey]

act like you love me: ch 6

word count: 4k tracklist: Cinema [ fic master list ]

6 - Thinking... (Hyunjin POV)

WEEK 5 (continued)

Sleep evades me most of the night and as a result, I’m wide awake at the break of dawn. I don’t know what time the others will wake, but I exit my tent anyway, duffel bag in hand. The campground is serenely quiet, save for the birdsong in the distant trees. I inhale a deep breath of fresh air and savor the moment as I walk to the picnic table to take a seat.

I dig through my duffel bag for my sketchpad and a pencil—it’ll help sell the illusion that I’m just out here for the view. In reality, I figure you’ll want to hit the showers first thing and it’s a perfect excuse to take that walk with you.

I flip the sketchpad open to a blank page, turn it horizontally, and start drawing the scenery in front of me. As my hand moves across the pad with practiced ease, my thoughts roam to you. There’s no harm in thinking about you.

But I’ve been thinking about you a lot, as of late. Since we were reunited, really. I’ve spent so much time on this project trying to understand you, trying to match your energy. Like when you came in sarcastic and guarded—I mirrored that. But you hated it. I could see it in your eyes. Unfortunately for you, I liked seeing that spark of annoyance, so I kept at it. And to be frank, I have no intention of stopping.

I did at least want to make sure we were in agreement about our rapport, but you rejected my pastry peace offering. Can’t say I blame you, with all that was snowballing on from the commercial shoot, in your mind. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to address that day outright, so I was actually kind of relieved when you brought it up. 

Things felt smooth after that. We were doing well in our scenes, supporting each other, staying professional with a small pinch of flirtation. Until the night at the club when that pinch turned into an unmeasured handful. 

But if I’m being honest—really fucking honest—it wasn’t the kiss that did it for me. It started the first day we met.

You were standing in the crowd of women on set, waiting for blocking instructions. I was pissed off and sleep-deprived, barely functioning. My head wasn’t in it. And then you opened your mouth. “Watch your nails, girls, you might get a mouth full about a hospital bill.”

It was dry, sharp, and completely unexpected. Some of the women laughed. I didn’t. Couldn’t. But I looked straight at you, and you briefly met my eyes before you clammed up like you’d just touched something hot.

I was startled by you, too. By your timing, your confidence, that quick flash of wit. And yeah—by how impossible it felt not to look at you.

You stood out in the sea of faces around me.

You weren’t even trying to. That’s what made it worse. You were just there, in your own world, trying to cut through the tension. And in one sentence, you managed to knock me out of mine. I didn’t want to find anything funny that day. I didn’t want to feel anything, period. But you were the first thing that cracked through the numbness.

Of course, all I did was glare. I didn’t know what else to do.

Then came that kiss. A moment that unequivocally shifted something between us. If my artistic talents were with the written word, I probably would have penned a poem about how you in my lap and our lips pressed together felt like the stars had aligned or something sappy like that. 

The next day on set, though, your guard was up again. I feared that maybe you felt pressured to do it and regretted it. Maybe it was a mistake. In this business, intentions get twisted by power, experience, and gender all the time and the last thing I wanted was for you to question mine.

As the more tenured actor between us, I wanted to be someone you could lean on—your guide through your first major role, maybe even a mentor, once we stopped butting heads. But in one flurry of heat and tension, I let myself slip and acted on impulse. 

But then we nailed the kissing scene, and I felt it again. That couldn’t be a mistake. 

I’m pulled from my thoughts at the sound of tents unzipping—but it’s just Chan and Felix. They toss me a wave before walking through the tents to shower. I return to my sketch, and a few minutes later another tent unzips. It’s Changbin this time. He spots me and heads over.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, a little too loudly.

I shoot him a look and wave him off before he can blow my cover again.

“Ohh,” he says, nodding slowly. “Gotcha.”

And then, finally, you unzip your tent and crawl out, blinking against the light. Your hair’s a mess, and you’re rubbing your eyes as you stifle a yawn. Next comes a big stretch, causing your shirt to rise and expose a bit of your midriff.

I don’t know why that does something to me. A part of you I haven’t seen yet, maybe.

I stand immediately, throwing the sketchpad and pencil into my duffel bag before tossing it over my shoulder and jogging to your side.

“Good morning,” I greet you, perfectly normal.

You blink at me. Maybe not so normal. Too abrupt?

“Morning,” you reply slowly, glancing at my bag. “You going to shower?”

“Yep. Mind if I walk with you?”

“Sure,” you reply, yawning again.

We fall into step, weaving around the tents toward the shower building. I wanted to share this brief moment with you, but I had no specific topics of conversation in mind, but I am curious about something, so I ask.

“What did you talk to Chan about last night? Everything okay?”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you…stalking me?”

“Watching,” I correct, grinning. “I wasn’t sure if Jeongin was the only one I needed to talk to.”

“That date thing really bothered you, didn’t it?”

“No,” I reply. “You’re just way out of his league.”

“And you think I’m closer to yours?”

“Maybe…or a smidge above it.”

You laugh at that, but I don’t know what’s funny.

We stop once we reach the building, where the shower stalls split into male and female sections.

“I’ll meet you out here when we’re done?” I ask.

“You don’t have to,” you offer a sweet smile before disappearing inside without ever answering my original question.

I know I don’t have to.

But I shower fast anyways—rinsing, brushing my teeth in record time, running shampoo through my hair. The best thing about this new haircut is how much faster it makes everything. As I’m quickly toweling off, I hear Chan, Felix and Changbin make their exit, which is perfect. 

I step back out into the morning air, water droplets still clinging to parts of my skin as I lean against the side of the building, towel draped loosely around my neck. 

A few minutes later, you come out.

Your hair is damp, and twisted into a messy bun, and when you spot me, you give me a half-hearted look of annoyance���mostly for show, I think. Then you glance around, scanning for onlookers, and I don’t miss the flicker of relief in your eyes when you see we’re alone.

I step forward.

“Come here for a sec,” I murmur.

Before you can ask why, I take your arm gently and guide you around the back of the building. No one can see us here—just the woods and I’m certain they can keep a secret.

I place you with your back against the wall, but I don’t touch you yet. I just look at you. For once not having to worry about someone catching me staring for too long. Personally, I don’t care, but I know you would if they started asking questions.

You blink at me with water-soft lashes, your lips a little parted at the surprise of my actions, probably wondering what I’ll do next. I swear you’ve never looked more beautiful. 

I step in, pressing my hips softly to yours. You gasp—that little sharp, quiet intake of breath I’ve already grown addicted to hearing. I lower my head, barely brushing my lips against yours.

“Hyunjin—”

“Just for a second.”

But I already know I’m lying.

As soon as our lips fully connect, that same feeling of warmth, calm and excitement swirl within me, affirming that this is right. My hands find your waist as yours slide up around my neck, pulling me closer. I squeeze your waist, stepping forward until you’re all but pinned against the wall.

“Wait…” you whisper, breaking the kiss. 

I steal another quick peck before leaning back to give you some space. But my lips have a mind of their own. I swoop down to kiss along your jawline and your body arches into me.

“Hyunjin.”

“I’m listening.”

“But I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

Although I don’t want to pull away, I manage to find the will. But not before kissing your lips again. Your hands slide down from my neck to my chest, balled into fists as you gently push me back. You’re glaring at me, but your eyes convey just how much you want me to keep going, too.

You take a deep breath. “I heard everything you said last night—and I appreciate you saying it. But I need you to know part of the reason I feel so conflicted is because of the men I’ve encountered while here.”

I furrow my brow, I was not expecting this.

“I’ve met a few decent men, but too many of them are just looking for an open-minded foreigner for one night.”

“Stop hanging out in Hongdae, then,” I say with a smile, leaning down to kiss you again. You lightly pound your fist against my chest to stop me.

“I’m just trying to say,” you continue, hiding your own smile, “my experience has led to me feeling uncertain whether someone genuinely likes me or not and—”

“But, I do.” I interrupt your monologue with another quick peck.

“—what they want from me. And you’re Hwang fucking Hyunjin. You’re probably used to getting your way with women all the time.”

I brisk up at that and slowly take a full step back from you. A look of concern washes over your features at the distance. You’ve spoken directly to the fear of having my intentions misinterpreted. I know my reputation. I know my past.

I drop my hands from your waist. 

You frown. “Last night helped ease some of those concerns, I promise. But there’s just too much at stake for me with this project.”

“I get that.” I nod. “I never want you to feel like I’m pressuring you to do something you don’t want to. I just…I can’t pretend I don’t want you, though.”

You offer a small smile. “That’s the real problem, then. We both want to. But we also know we probably shouldn’t.”

“So…what does that mean for us?”

“It means,” you whisper, your voice suddenly sultry as you reach for the towel around my neck and tug it forward, pulling me toward you until our faces nearly touch again. 

My hands plant on either side of you, flat against the wall. And now it’s your turn to trail kisses along my neck. My heart is pounding as you take complete and utter control of this situation. 

“We need to be smart,” you plant another kiss, moving toward my throat, “we need to put the project first,” another kiss, “and we really need to think this through before it goes any further.”

You conclude your teasing assault by licking and biting the flesh on my neck before pulling away. You duck beneath my arm and round the corner, leaving me to stare at the brick wall—confused and completely incapable of forming thought.

I gather myself and follow after you, like a cat to a mouse. But you’re not my prey…I definitely don’t want to eat you.

Well, there are certain parts of you I wouldn’t mind snacking on.

A few hours later, we’re packing to head back. Most of the guys are tossing their bags into the van but waiting for seating assignments to fall into place naturally.

I don’t wait.

I climb inside and claim our previous seats, dropping my bag onto yours to reserve it. But when you get in, you take an empty spot next to Felix in the seats that face the back of the van. Your eyes find mine and you tap a finger to your temple. Think.

I know.

That doesn’t mean I have to be away from you while we do that, though. I want to get up and bring you back here with me.

Changbin winds up taking your seat, tossing my bag to the floor with careless disregard.

“So how did it go?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrow and slapping my thigh, ignoring the look on my face as I pick up my bag to place at my feet.

“We’ll talk later,” I tell him. “Did you book the flights?”

He transitions into business mode. “Yeah—we’ll head to Gyeongju airport as soon as we get back.”

He starts going through the upcoming itinerary for the week and it’s a nice distraction, but it also reminds me I won’t be seeing you for a few days again.

I’m in Seoul another four hours later, since I have to spend the next few days here for some product promotional events. Changbin drives us straight to the first location and as I’m sitting in hair and makeup I want to text you. But I can’t do that and risk someone glancing over my shoulder and reading our text exchange.

See? I’m thinking…

It isn’t until I’m in the safety of my own apartment that I reach out to you. Not at all for anything important. Just to hear from you.

Me [8:45 PM] what do you have my contact name as?

You [8:49 PM] Hello to you, too Why? 🤔

Me [8:52 PM] was just thinking, maybe we need nicknames that way if people are around they won’t know who’s blowing up your phone

You [8:54 PM] Hmmm that’s not a terrible idea Let me think of something…

You respond a few minutes later with a screenshot of our text thread, my new name saved at the top: Pastry Prince 👑.

Me [8:58 PM] i’m not mad at it

I update yours, take a screenshot as you did, and send it.

Me [9:00 PM] you see what i did there? it’s a play on words

Your reply comes immediately after.

Haughty 🥵 [9:01 PM] LMFAO. GOODBYE!

But it’s not goodbye. We text consistently for the next few hours until your replies stop. You did give a fair warning that you were struggling to keep your eyes open, at least.

By my third and final day in Seoul I’m ready to get back to Gyeongju. I will miss the comfort of sleeping in my own bed but it’s not going anywhere. As I’m lying in it, I pull out my phone to text you again.

Me [11:30 PM] you up?

Haughty 🥵 [11:33 PM] Maybe.

Me [11:35 PM] just wanted to remind you i’ll be back tomorrow

Haughty 🥵 [11:36 PM] You’ve reminded me everyday

Me [11:38 PM] and you haven’t said you’re excited once not even a suggestive text or photo to keep me going

It takes a while for you to respond. Long enough that I start to wonder if I shouldn’t have sent that. But when my phone dings and I see your name with a video message next to it, my heart starts racing. I sit up on my bed feeling suddenly wide awake and alert as I click on the message.

The still image makes my jaw fucking drop. Yet another part of you I haven’t seen before and, fuck, do I wish I could see it in person. I press play on the video, in awe that you would have filmed something like this and sent it to me.

But…as the camera pulls back on what I believed to be your ass; it’s quickly revealed to be the crease of your elbow. And I hear your fucking giggles. And when the camera reaches your face, I’m laughing too. Annoyed, but laughing.

Me [11:55 PM]

😑

Blocked.

WEEK 6

You’re already on set when I arrive around noon—this time we’re in the innkeepers room. It’s meant to feel like a soft, lived-in space with old wood floors, warm lighting, a tidy desk, and a large bed that suddenly feels like the elephant in the room. Not only because that bed is where we’re rehearsing the intimate scene, but also because it’s the exact type of place I’d like to do unspeakable things to you.

I came straight here after the plane landed, and I’m not even mad about it. Because you’re here. The only wrinkle in this mini-reunion is that the intimacy coordinator will be with us.

We lock eyes when I enter and you brandish a polite smile, all professional-like. Like you weren’t fucking with me all night after sending that damn video.

There’s a clear energy pulsating throughout the room, but the intimacy coordinator doesn’t notice it. And I choose not to focus on it because, as you said, the project comes first. So, we spend the first hour walking through boundaries and comfort levels. It’s clinical—everything it should be.

You voice concerns about rubbing, grinding, and certain kinds of touch. I listen. Carefully. I agree to everything you’re comfortable with—kissing, lifting you, trailing my fingers down your side.

I nod along. I’ve already done some of these things with you. I know your concerns are more so to protect your image and take into account the cameras and crew that will be around when we film.

The coordinator then talks through each beat—where my hands go, how fast or slow to move—and my mind drifts to the moment you’ll be in my arms, your legs wrapped around my waist. I shake it off and try to focus, but my pulse is already in overdrive at the thought of touching you again. This feels like more than just a routine blocking rehearsal. And I know it’s partially (okay largely) to do with the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about actually doing these things with you while I was away.

Has it really only been seventy-two hours since I last saw you? It feels longer.

“Ready to give it a try?” The coordinator asks.

You nod.

“Let’s do this,” I say, smooth and easy.

I walk towards the door and when I turn around, I expect you to be in front of me. But you’re not—you’re sitting on the bed. Not at all where the scene begins.

I tilt my head, raise a brow, and beckon you over with a single finger and a smile.

Your cheeks color. You’re flustered as you stand and make your way over.

“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice soft.

“Just a little nervous,” you admit.

“That’s why we’re rehearsing with just the three of us.” I reassure you, knowing now isn’t the time for an inappropriate comment. “Follow my lead.”

The intimacy coordinator steps into position to the side. “I’ll talk you through each beat for the first run through. Ready?”

You let out a deep breath, lifting your gaze so our eyes meet, and I see it. I see the vulnerability. The trust. It hits me kind of hard. I don’t want to break that.

“Action,” the coordinator calls out. “Hold the stare for a beat—two, three. y/n, grab his shirt.”

Your hand grabs a fistful of my shirt. Our eyes stay locked. I give the smallest nod of encouragement at what comes next.

“Pull him in.”

You do, and our lips meet again—but it’s light this time. No pressure. Just lips resting against lips. But there’s something there. A memory waiting to be relived.

“Hyunjin, arms around her waist. Now lower your hands and lift her.”

I follow the instructions, palms sliding down until I’m gripping the soft curve of your ass. The very same ass I thought I was watching a video of. I squeeze it, for just a small moment of payback.

You hitch a breath and break the kiss as I lift you. Your legs wrap around me, and I like how that feels a little too much. I start mentally reciting the English alphabet to keep my body from reacting.

Your arms wind around my neck, your lips brushing my jaw as I carry you toward the bed, each step feeling heavier with need. I’m supposed to be counting beats, monitoring pace, staying technical—but all I feel is you.

“Lay her on the bed. y/n, remove your shorts, then lift his shirt.”

You mime the movements, fingers ghosting over fabric. I lean over you on the mattress, bracing my weight on one arm to help you pull the imaginary shirt off. When our lips meet again, you exhale—it’s that soft, breathy sound again, as if you’ve missed the feeling in the span of a few seconds.

I chuckle low against your mouth. I missed it, too.

“Hold—two, three, four, five. Hyunjin, her shirt now.”

I shift lower, kissing the air just above your stomach as I mime peeling your shirt up. And I can’t help it, but my mind flashes back to the glimpse of your stomach I got on the camping trip. And I wonder what sight awaits me when the rest of you is revealed. I wonder how your tits would feel in my hands, your nipples in my mouth, between my teeth.

Fuck. I can think these things internally, right?

You lie back, the rise and fall of your chest giving away your increased heart rate.

Are you thinking of the real version, too?

I lay on top of you again, shifting my body weight a little so I don’t smother you. And even through our clothes, it feels like the atoms between us are fucking burning as I hook your leg around my hip, my mouth meeting yours again.

“And…scene! That looked great!” The intimacy coordinator claps. “Comfort levels?”

I roll off you immediately, casting aside the many ways of which a moment like this between us could really end. I switch to mentally reciting the nearest provinces to keep my cock from rising. That would be completely unprofessional, and I’d probably have to accidentally fall from the Seoul Tower if you or the intimacy coordinator saw it.

I’m quickly realizing this could be a problem.

“It felt fine,” you answer first. “I think I could live with all of that in terms of comfort and minimal exposure.”

“I’m good with everything too,” I echo.

Whatever you say.

“Perfect. Let’s run it a few more times before Director Bang comes in.” The intimacy coordinator retreats to her chair to grab her clipboard, flipping through her notes.

More rehearsals are necessary, I know that. We want this to look seamless to earn Chan’s approval, and I don’t want to let you down. Staying neutral just feels a lot harder than I ever imagined it would.

Time to get my head in the game. Be professional. Be calm.

I stand and offer my hand to you. You take it, squeezing gently as I pull you up.

You look up at me, not immediately dropping your hand. Your smile is small. A little coy, a little shy.

And for some reason, it floors me.

Get my head in the game?

I think I’ve already lost.

a/n: you know i love to throw a random POV in from the MMC 😏 we'll get to the good stuff in the next chapter! [ read chapter seven here ]

[mayearies]

… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

❛ KISSIN YOU CRAZY ❜

miles morales

˚ʚ property of ©hiimayee ɞ˚

genre: suggestive | warnings: miles ooc, kissing, spanish translations: desea averiguarlo? / you want to find out? authors input: i wanted to make more borderline cocky miles i miss it also i cant fucking find graphics for stories anymore im actually gonna start shitting myself also ik i cant write kissing scenes dont rn

summary: turns out miles is a really good kisser

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

miles liked anything to do with your body, believe it or not. he would get the most out of cuddling with you, kissing you, or just simply holding your hand. but he had a tendency to ask one thing any time he would sit down:

“can you come sit on my lap?”

sometimes he wouldnt even ask. he would just pull you on top of him or give you a pleading stare. he honestly wouldnt pay much attention to you. he would just want you close to him. if you wanted to talk to him, he would be down for that always. hell, he would drop what he’s doing and turn his attention to you any day of the week.

wanna guess how you got here? yeah, he just led you to his desk and placed you on top of him so he could draw. take it as you’re a stuffed animal he wouldn’t want to misplace.

but stuffed animals have feelings too. he didn’t say a word to you. he just rested his head over your shoulder as his finger danced on your thigh in a rhythm, the one matching his headphones. you didnt like being ignored while in this state. you couldnt even get off him.

you bit your cheek as your face held an expression of annoyance. “miles?”

he didnt answer. but you knew he heard you since the tapping on your thigh slowed down and the sound of markers against the paper increased. he liked teasing you like this. and you knew just the way to break him: neck kisses!

he was an absolute sucker for kisses in general. his forehead and his neck were his favorite places for you to kiss. everytime you would, he would giggle a little bit before breaking, “what? what’s up, darling?”

“you never look at me even after i do this for you!” “mmm? do you want something?”“a kiss would be nice. all you give is cheap forehead kisses.”

miles directed his eyes to yours. soon leaving to look at your lips which were lightly glazed with lipgloss. he held a playful smirk before looking back up at your face. “hm. cheap kisses, huh?”

“i bet you aren’t even that good of a kisser, miles.” “hah. desea averiguarlo, mami?”

oh wow. you didnt expect that. or this. despite your continuous reminders for him to put on chapstick, his lips were really soft and smooth. even smoother with your lipgloss on it.

the thing is, miles has never kissed you like this before. he would give you longing kisses like this anywhere but your lips. you thought he did it because he was nervous. turns out he was, but had just played it off cool. but he pulled all the right strings first try.

something about his hand stroking your thigh lightly, the biting of your lip as your lips danced with one another did something for you. i mean, as it should.

pulling away with a playful smirk, he leaned into your ear. “so? did you find out or do i gotta demonstrate again? you got enough attention for the hour now?”

you playfully rolled your eyes as you slipped from his grasp to go sit on the couch and turn on a movie leaving miles stunned a little. nonetheless, he followed you. snuggling against your chest as he pulled you into his lap once more. “what we watchin’, missy?”

“missing.” “ohhh.. y’know what’s really missing?” “..what?” “your last name changed to ‘morales’.”“stop using those jokes you got from peter. just because he got to keep mj with them doesn’t mean you’ll get to keep me.” “yes ma’am.”

©hiimayee

[aspenscore]

Artist: Aspenscore

Title: Don't Be That Guy

Don't Be That Guy © 2025 by Aspenscore is licensed under CC BY 4.0. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Size: 512 x 384

Skizz gets in trouble with the law for leaving floating trees… he really shouldn't have Been That Guy

Process TL;DR:

Skizz has played two different law-adjacent roles this season and I thought it'd be funny for them to come after early season Skizz for making all those early game mistakes

The hardest part of this process was the composition, as it was hard to balance storytelling with visual appeal

I switched from Sketchbook to Medibang Paint for this one and the timelapse recording went so much more smoothly (video imminent!)

One of my favourite things about Skizz's HC10 season is how much he commits to his various character roles on the server. They are all unique and entertaining in their own ways, and I thought it'd be funny to put those strong personalities all together in one scene. Since his two main roles have some sort of involvement with the law, it only made sense for them to come after his early season self (Don't Be That Guy Skizz) for breaking some basic server etiquette. My initial plan was to have POE Skizz writing up Don't Be That Guy (DBTG) for leaving floating trees and Lawyer Skizz coming in to defend DBTG, but it was hard to make it clear who Lawyer Skizz is actually coming after, so he could also have teamed up with POE Skizz to bring down the (literal) hammer on DBTG. It's entirely up to your interpretation. I just like his general threatening aura.

The main thing that made Lawyer Skizz's intentions difficult to portray was the fact that I needed to balance storytelling with visual appeal. I needed to make it clear what was going on and why, while making sure all the characters' faces were visible, and ensuring the overall positioning of everything looked good and visually flowed well. I probably sketched at least ten different options for this piece at work (to save time), narrowed them down to about five strong ideas, and then got many people's input on the composition and posing (shoutout to my partner, various friends with degrees in media design, and the spoonies discord server). I finally landed on this one, as it was one of my favourites composition-wise. It was the most interesting to look at, everyone's face is visible, and it communicates enough of the main story elements to at least give a general sense of what's going on. The only issue I had with this one was figuring out how to make the floating tree obvious without upsetting the visual balance of the rest of the piece. I'm not sure I really fixed it, but there wasn't much I could do without starting all over, and I figured the story is still clear enough even if it's not immediately apparent what DBTG's crime was.

Tech-wise, I have way less to say about this one than the Joel piece I did a few weeks ago, and that's a good thing. The main issue I had with the other piece was recording the timelapse, because my main drawing program (Skechbook Pro) doesn't have a timelapse feature. After all the problems I had last time, I decided I was willing to switch to an entirely new drawing program if it meant I was able to avoid all that mess, and luckily for me, the drawing program I used to use before Sketchbook (Medibang Paint) has a timelapse feature! This was a huge relief, because I already know how to use it and I know my tablet can handle it. Everything went smoothly and I am so relieved to have a solution (I even fixed that problem my monitor started having back when I was troubleshooting the Joel piece recording setup!). You might notice, however, that this piece is still rather low-res. Unlike last time, that was not an unfortunate accident; I just didn't scale up the dimensions. Don't know why. Sorry about that lol

Since the tech side of things went so well this time, I'll have a timelapse video coming out shortly and I'm very excited to share it with you all! I am also considering doing timelapse videos of some of my other art (most likely my video thumbnails) now that I've got a reliable recording setup for that. (Is that something y'all'd be interested in? Please let me know!)

Overall, I wanted to say a big thank you to Skizz for making such wonderfully entertaining videos. I look forward to the rest of the season, and I can't wait to see people going through the finished pyramid!

I also want to thank all of you reading this for your time and support! I know this isn't usually the sort of thing I post, so it makes me happy that people seem to enjoy it just as much as my regular content. I hope you all have a wonderful day!

[eahtheramblings]

I haven’t been able to write or draw much due to school and I won’t be able to write or draw much for the next few weeks due to finals, so here are some more random aspects of the revamp au with no context:

1. Raven actually had 3 separate roommates before Cedar in first year. In order they were Duchess, Helga, and Witchy Brew. Duchess immediately demanded a room change on move in day and was granted one as her grandmother made a big scene over how it was insane the school would put the Princess of a kingdom that was targeted so terribly by the Evil Queen in the same room as her spawn. Helga lasted the longest, at 3 months and 1 week on the dot; she claimed to be ok with it since living with a witch would give her an “insight into the minds of the beasts she’s born to hunt” but ended up moving out after claiming that Raven had done something horrid and was “no mere witch, but a demon”. Raven, for her part, has no clue what incident Helga might possibly be referring to as she spent those 3 months avoiding her roommate like the plague. Witchy and Raven were put together after that since Witchy was an older student in the villain track, with the thought process being that nothing Raven could do would scare or unnerve another witch that already had a year of practice on her, but she ended up lasting just a day and a half. This is because Raven found Witchy crying and she confided that she missed her old roommate Charity Charming, as they’re good friends but don’t get to see each other during the day at all due to villains and princesses not having many classes together. With Witchy’s permission Raven cursed her, thus giving her an excuse to request a roommate change. It finally ended when Cedar volunteered to be Ravens roommate a day later, both in part out of a feeling of responsibility and in part to get away from Duchess who was using her curse to never lie to get gossip. She thought rooming with Raven would be nightmare, but in the end found that she couldn’t come up with a single idea for why everyone else had moved out.

2. The daughters of Snow White and Rose Red from the fairytale Snow White and rose red just graduated from ever after high in Apple and Ravens first year. Primrose White has a friends/mentorship thing going on with Apple due to them bonding over sharing the Snow-White name, but Rosie Red despises Apple because she won the Royal Student council presidency in her freshman year when Rosie was running as a senior. Apple has no idea about this and still believes that the three are all great friends. this is in part because Primrose, in the time-honored tradition of siblings-purposely-annoying-other-siblings everywhere, would Invite Apple to sit with them at lunch to discuss Princessology just so she could see Rosie glower at her from across the table, because while Rosie may not like Apple she would never be so cruel as to tell Apple that she didn't like her to her face, nor dumb enough to do it in a public area where everyone could hear her opinions on the future fairest of them all. Apple still sends Primrose and Rosie birthday presents and holiday cards and the like. Rosie seethes every time she gets one and Primrose finds it hilarious.

3. The merry men all have to take the first 2 years of villainy courses due to them having to break many laws like theft and illegal kingdom entry and the like. Sparrow was almost banned from taking it his second year as Grimm was worried that he was too into the villainy classes and wasn't treating his heroics courses with as much effort. He managed to convince him to let him stay, but only after spinning a yarn about needing to understand crime better to fulfill his destiny, and cramming big time for the heroics final so he could scrape by in that class with a C.

4. The dark forest and enchanted forest are not really fixed locations. rather, the dark forest and enchanted forest are two separate realms that each surround every kingdom, overlaying one another. think like the fey wild and shadow fell from dnd. you can technically enter either from any kingdom but it's much easier to enter certain ones from different locations; for example, you can technically see and enter the dark forest from the snow-white kingdom, but the general magic that inhabits that area is light magic, so when your there all you will see and interact with is enchanted forest, and you'd have to use a rather large amount of dark magic to tear a hole between the two realms just to access the dark forest. the same is true vice versa for the forest's surrounding evil kingdoms. Each forest is magical, and has little quirks based on the type of magic that affects it. for example, the enchanted forest is very easy to map out, magically keeps the trails travelers made between villages and kingdoms well maintained and often has springs of fresh water that appear when one would most need it. Meanwhile, the dark forest seems to change its layout without reason over periods of time, has large stretches of area where the trees grow so tall you can't even see the sky, and often tries to grow into and over trails and villages. this can be mitigated given enough effort and magic, but it still makes it a pretty hostile place to live. The two forest do have several crossing spots, called bridges, where you can cross from one forest to the next without needing magic to do so. One of these bridges is famous for being the one Snow White has to go through to reach the dwarves cottage; it's got a gift shop and photo booth for visitors.

5. just because a village or kingdom is in the dark or enchanted forest doesn't necessarily mean it's good or bad. hoods hollow is in the dark forest, while the beanstalk for the land of giants is in the enchanted forest.

6. Several characters have "magic touches" that are vague, not actually magic, or are things everyone with magic should logically be able to do with a bit of effort. therefore, I have changed a few for this au: Dexter's power is not just girls swooning when he takes off his glasses but also being able to see through enchantments, Farrah (who is the blue fairy's daughter in this au as were going with the tree-mother version of Cinderella) has the ability to enter others dreams with little effort, and Ginger can grant her baked creations life like she did with her fish Jelly.

7. Grimm, Faybelle, and Madame Yaga are all trying to push Ginger to do more evil with the last one, as so far all she has done is make gummy fish for her aquarium; Faybelle wants to see if they could get an industrial sized oven so Ginger can make an army of life-sized gingerbread men. Gingers not as enthused by the prospect.

that's all for now, I hope the semester ends both swiftly and painlessly for both me and anyone else in school right now, thanks for reading!

[taleeater]

The More Things Change, the More Things Stay the Same

Vaunite Viktor and Runaway Jayce AU

Just an idea, but this just sprung on me and I had a big lightbulb moment.

Jayce goes to the undercity to buy parts for his less than legal experiments from Ekko’s shop. Like he had been doing for a while. And that’s how he knows Viktor, who is mentoring Ekko, and also works under Silco and is a former student of Singed. Since he decided to continue to work with Singed as a child, he never left to join the college in Piltover. Viktor did his best to keep Jayce at a distance at first, despising the Pilties, but Jayce was extremely persistent in befriending Viktor, the enchanting, mysterious, incredibly intelligent Zaunite scientist and engineer. And Viktor could only resist Jayce’s advances for so long before this incredibly sweet and surprisingly smart big oaf of a man began to grow on him. So they become somewhat well acquainted friends over time.

Marcus, after a particularly frustrating meeting with Silco, has some of his officers tail Viktor, Silco’s assistant, to try and dig up some more information and dirt on what Silco’s secret plans are. But Viktor is smart, and slippery, but not at all fast. He manages to lose the Piltover cops tailing him, but what he doesn’t know is that after they leave, they discover Jayce, obviously a Piltie, sneaking into the undercity and follow him to Ekko’s shop where Viktor is now waiting to meet up with him. No one but Vander sees the police there watching them.

Skip ahead to the Incident™️where Jayce’s apartment gets blown up. It’s less of an accident this time, and the kids don’t have anything to do with it. This time it’s the corrupt Piltover police force. Later that week, when Jayce is out with Caitlyn, the Piltover police illegally raid and search his apartment, and make it look like a break in. They try to find any connection he might have to Silco and the Undercity, but all they find are his weird experiments. So they grab anything fishy- and valuable looking, and make to leave. But one of the cops drops a crystal and it explodes as they run out the door. Jayce is a block away when he and Caitlyn hear the explosion, and discover his place in ruins and a lot of his stuff missing. But thankfully he had his research notebook on hand so it wasn’t taken.

The police of course claim that the break in was the work of Zaunite children, and avoid being held responsible. Using the excuse to patrol Zaun and harass anyone who they might think is suspicious for other reasons. But unlike before, the university doesn’t feel the need to search his apartment for anything left, as the police already claimed that anything dangerous looking had already been stolen. (They did their own ‘investigation’ to cover their tracks.) Jayce is brought before the counsel like before, and stripped of his status at the university, support, and funding, and ordered to give up on all his research. He goes home defeated.

The scene in his destroyed apartment still happens, he almost jumps. But he has another idea instead. He grabs anything left related to his research, writes his mother a misleading note claiming he’s leaving Piltover for good, and escapes into the night. And heads straight for Zaun. (In a disguise that covers his face this time, as Viktor had been recently pestering him about doing so anyway for safety.) Jayce finds the Last Drop, as Ekko’s shop is closed late at night, and asks around for anyone who might know Viktor. The whole bar immediately gets suspicious of him, and it’s Sevika at the bar who decides to take him. She thinks he’s a Piltover spy, and leads him away from the bar with the intention to beat him up and rob him. And maybe bring him to Silco to see if they should kill him. But it’s Viktor who comes across them on a late night walk, and takes notice of the suspiciously familiar lumbering shape being led down a dark alleyway by his coworker that draws him to the scene. Sevika shoves Jayce into a wall and pulls off his face covering, Jayce throwing up his arms in defense asking her to wait, when the familiar voice speaks up. “….Jayce?” He would know that voice anywhere. “What are you doing here?” Viktor asks him, and Sevika backs off but is incredibly suspicious as to why Viktor is so familiar with a possible Piltie spy.

Jayce all but melts at the sight of Viktor and rushes up to him to embrace him in a hug, one that Viktor is very surprised and uncomfortable by. But he can tell Jayce is very rattled. Jayce is able to tell him a little bit about what happened in the alley, all in earshot of Sevika, but he’s able to get across that no one will be looking for him, especially not in Zaun, (he thinks) and that’s all Viktor needs to hear before he realizes that Jayce has abandoned Piltover to continue his research and needs a place to stay. After a lot of inner turmoil, knowing he’s probably going to regret it, he brings Jayce back home with him to his private lab and his little apartment.

That night, Jayce shows Viktor all of his research with incredible passion and fervor, and it surprises Viktor how much he finds himself believing in Jayce’s research. There begins their official partnership to share their Hextech dream, not with Piltover, but for Zaun, and the rest of the world.

The Piltover police, with no targets on which children to blame for their break in, and not wanting to piss off Vander, grab a random kid off the streets that was picking a fight with them to arrest, not realizing that the kid worked for Silco. But the kid had Shimmer on him, and injected himself with it to fight them off in desperation. He manages to kill a few cops, but is ultimately gunned down. Silco is beyond pissed off. Marcus is forced to bury the whole incident just to appease Silco, but ultimately their whole bargain is all but thrown in the trash, and Piltover is still enraged that some of their officers were killed in the Undercity. Relations between Piltover and Zaun become increasingly more unsteady, and violent as a result. But meanwhile, Viktor and Jayce are holed up in their own little world working together to develop Hextech. Silco is not exactly thrilled to lose his assistant. But Silco manages to bribe enough people in Piltover to leave the undercity alone in the meantime. Jayce and Viktor quickly realized that they still desperately needed funding for their research, and ended up presenting their work to a sceptical, but soon baffled Silco only weeks after they began working together. Silco sees the potential for the Hextech to benefit the Undercity in many different ways, so he uses the money he makes from his enormous sales in Shimmer to fund their research. No less than a month later, he rescues Powder from the aftermath of a brutal police attack that burned the Last Drop to the ground, killing Vander, Milo, and Claggor. But Vi escaped only to blame Powder for leading the violent officers back home with her after one of her toy bomb traps failed to activate. Vi was still arrested unjustly, and Silco took in Powder.

Years pass, and things eventually calm down again. Without Mel around to seduce and influence Jayce, he realizes his feelings for Viktor much sooner. But he’s still too scared to confess to him as Viktor becomes more and more busy being radicalized by Silco to fight for the Undercity. It’s Viktor who ends up having to step up and take a position of political power, not Jayce. Viktor and Jayce did not have access to any of Piltover’s extensive funding and resources like before, so their research was slower going at the beginning despite Silco’s funding and resources. But surprisingly, with Jinx’s help after years of her endless curiosity and tutelage from a big brotherly Jayve and regretfully resigned Viktor, they refine the crystals to a more safe form. Soon enough, they are able to produce versions of the HexClaw and the HexGloves, which they made for assisting work in the mines and in construction. But without Heimerdinger’s warnings like before, they are able to have Silco fund their mass production to be used all over the Undercity. But it doesn’t take long for the people of Zaun to figure out they can also use the tech for their own self defense against Piltover, and it begins to cause problems again between the two cities. Viktor ends up having to fill in for Silco more and more as a representative for his Shimmer operations and as a political representative for Zaun in talks with Piltover, leaving Jayce alone often in the lab to work alone. So Jayce is not there when Viktor collapses for the first time from the illness he’s been hiding from them. 

That night, Jinx and Silco bring in an unconscious Viktor to their lab. It’s not the first time Jayce has helped a rogue Zaunite with first aid, and they even developed a few useful medical devices, but this was different. This was Viktor, and as far as he could tell with his limited medical knowledge, his condition was bad. Very bad. So Jayce throws himself into working on creating new medical inventions, things he tries to use to treat Viktor, to cure him. But the tension between Zaun and Piltover is boiling over again, and Silco needs weapons to help the citizens of Zaun to fight off Piltover’s oppression. Jinx ends up using their refined crystals to manufacture bombs and weapons, against the strict wishes of Jayce and Viktor never to do so. But it goes unnoticed by Jayce as he gets more and more desperate as Viktor’s illness worsens without real medical attention. He is tempted by Singed into resorting to treating him with small doses of Shimmer like Silco uses on his eye.

Now with Viktor having minorly stabilized, and the usage of an artificial lung that Jayce designed, they work together on the evolving HexCore. Eventually, they accidentally trigger the HexCore mutation, with Huck there bringing them food like usual on orders from Silco, Huck gets sucked up to feed the HexCore as it feeds power to Viktor to transform him as Jayce tries to control it. Viktor doesn’t turn into Machine Harold thanks to Jayce having a better grasp of the HexCore, but most of his body is still transformed to merge with all his metal braces that Jayce made for him, and the artificial lung support and Shimmer that was keeping him alive.

Viktor, empowered by his new strength and powers in his new form, decides to go join Silco in his war against Piltover. But Jayce stops him, and finally confesses his feelings to Viktor, and pleads with him to stay with him. Viktor, still having his emotions, is swayed. Because he knows it too, deep in his bones, all these years they've spent together, he loves Jayce too. He returns his feelings. They kiss, and even sleep together that night. But when Jayce wakes up in the morning, Viktor is gone. 

I haven't worked out all the alternate universe differences in this AU revolving around Jinx, Caitlyn, and Vi, so for now assume most of their storyline outside of what happens with Jayce and Viktor stays mostly the same. 

Someone shoot me. Why can I never write like 1 paragraph for an idea and just leave it alone. Once again running with this until it looks like another rough fanfic instead of a little AU idea. Hope you like it. :]

[horrorvale]

HorrorVale Development Blog: End of Year

Hello, citizens of HorrorVale!

As the year draws to a close, we (or more specifically me, Dustin) wanted to put together a little blog to talk about HorrorVale! How launch went, what our current and future plans are, and more!

(Note that this blog post does not receive audio, so if you respond I cannot hear it.)

Dream Colosseum

First, before I start talking about HorrorVale's Launch, I want to discuss an upcoming patch.

Currently, we're working on a massive patch for HorrorVale that will include the following:

Even MORE bug fixes

Brand new optional dialogue for every single party member in the game for main story cutscenes

More skill re-balancing

Other minor things and scenes I still wish to include

But most importantly... The DREAM COLOSSEUM!

I originally didn't think many people would bother with the "Secret Bosses" in HorrorVale, but since so many of you enjoyed them and also desired to get more opportunities to mess with party combinations, I decided to punish you horribly!

The Dream Colosseum is a brand new feature that will allow you to fight Bosses you fought previously, now all scaled up to End game stats, with new moves and quirks, and all very difficult.

If you've fought the "Last Secret Boss", now you get to imagine what a Dream Colosseum version might be like.

It will require you to 100% the game to access, but won't give any unique rewards outside of a cosmetic change to Alice's bedroom so people don't feel compelled to torture themselves for completionists sake. Naturally, there won't be any new trophies either.

Right now we're working steadily on this update, and hope to have it out very early next year.

Now that that's out of the way, let's talk about how launch actually went for HorrorVale...

HorrorVale Launch

After 8 years in development and 5 years since announced, HorrorVale finally released on October 1st, 2024.

This reception has been tremendous.

Leading up to release, I was anxious but overall feeling pretty good about launch. There were minor things I wish I had included or changed, but knew that delaying what was otherwise a feature complete game would be extremely silly.

I actually intended on releasing these things as a patch in the first week of launch, in the hopes of catching most people before they get too deep in the game.

...What I did not expect however, was the unfortunate discovery of several bugs, some of which were game breaking.

What made these bugs especially frustrating is that most of them were NEW bugs, created from me adding things right before launch, or fixing other unrelated bugs.

Due to these bugs and the massive influx of new fans, comments, reviews, and more I found myself extremely overwhelmed, and it ended up being probably one of the most stressful 2 weeks of my life after launch.

In the end, everything worked out and I was quick to patch the game...

...Multiple times.

Still, despite these issues the reception was overwhelmingly positive. Certainly some critiques here and there, but the general response was that the game was so enjoyable that even the most egregious critiques could be brushed aside. All of the wonderful things I've read by people who had fun in the world I created... It truly means the world to me. The... Underworld you might say.

I'm sure some people are also interested in how the game actually DID. Good reviews and positive reception are one thing, but this is also a product being sold, so how did it DO!? Did it SMASH RECORDS and become bigger than UNDERTALE? Did it FLOP???

Well, to be honest I'm not entirely sure!

Which is a strange thing to say, but it's difficult to gauge "Success" when so many factors can change what that means. For a AAA game, success means something very different to a small indie game with a publisher, which also means something very different to a ragtag team of people with no real budget, no publisher, no marketing, and especially no notoriety whatsoever. Not to mention as first time developers we have little to compare it to...

But that being said...

As of right now, HorrorVale has sold...

1,000 COPIES!

That's an INSANE amount of people. If all of you were in a big room crowded around me, I would be very scared.

That's 1,000 new citizens to HorrorVale that have entered its gates.

If we gauge success purely based off "did it make back what you invested in it?", then HorrorVale was absolutely a success!

However, unfortunately it did not necessarily meet the expectations we had.

Going into the launch of HorrorVale, I had 3 goals in mind.

To make back what I invested in it (out of pocket, not including Patreon earnings)

To pay Matt, the composer full royalties for the HorrorVale OST (since he created the entire 170 track monster soundtrack for FREE.)

To be able to devote myself full time to Game Development

Of these three... Only 1 has been achieved so far.

While I generally try to avoid discussing topics like these, I feel like it's important context for the next piece of discussion. The future of HorrorVale.

HorrorVale: Act M

HorrorVale: Act M is a small side story featuring none other than Mothman himself! This spinoff game was greenlit thanks to HorrorVale fans reaching our Wishlist goal for the main game. This game will tell the story of HorrorVale from Mothman's perspective, giving you new insight into his side of the story, as well as elaborate on events leading up to and following that story.

I think there's something really special waiting for you in Act M, and I want to use it as an opportunity to experiment with the HorrorVale formula based off of feedback from the main game.

No matter what, this project will begin development and it will be in your hands....

...At some point.

Which is where the previous topic comes into play, because naturally how long Act M takes to make is dependent on the time I have free to work on it. HorrorVale sales could certainly pick up, and I might one day be able to devote myself fully to game dev, but for now Act M will have to follow the same development process as "HorrorVale", which means it's difficult to give an estimate of how long it'll take to make!

What I can say for sure, is that Act: M will be much, much shorter than HorrorVale. Don't expect a 50 hour experience! I'm aiming for something more like 8.

And yet, you might be asking yourself dear reader...

"How can we help?"

Indeed, you asked yourself that exact sentence and in the voice of the King from Zelda CD-I no doubt.

Which brings us to the next topic!

Patreon Revival

My original plan after HorrorVale launched was to completely retire the HorrorVale Patreon as it seemed unnecessary at that point, but since:

We did not reach our expectations of sales so far

Several fans expressed a desire to support the game in some way because of the Steam Early Access debacle

I thought it made sense to keep it up and give it a little makeover.

Now fully dedicated to "Act: M", you can expect Monthly Progress Reports here, just like the main game!

Not only that, but we've added a brand new "Cryptid" Tier, that will allow you... Yes YOU! The ability to design a Creepy, Scary, or Starry for Mothman to fight in Act: M! We don't want Mothman to just fight all the same enemies as Alice! He'd naturally encounter foes she never even knew existed. This is your opportunity to help the game out and get to be a part of it as well.

(Please note that in order to participate in this reward, you must be 18 years or older and willing to give all rights of your design to Batworks Software.)

(Also please note that Mothman will kill your beautiful creation with a crossbow and it will hurt very badly.)

Since as of now I can't "live" off of HorrorVale sales, instead my plan is to put it and Act: M Patreon earnings towards Act: M itself and Mystery Future Project. This will help ensure a smooth development cycle as possible. If you're interested in helping out the HorrorVale universe, now's your chance!

Of course, forking over your hard earned candy isn't the only way to help though!

Just enjoying the game and telling your friends about it is a MASSIVE help. Without a marketing team, word of mouth is a tremendous help to us, and it's thanks to that that we're here at all!

Closing

In closing, I just want to say thank you to all of the HorrorVale fans that have supported us over all these years. The love that HorrorVale has been shown has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. As long as I'm able to, I'd like to read every comment and message I can, but I fear that if the game does get bigger one day I won't be able to see them all. Just know that the love you've given Alice and her friends mean the world to me.

Wait Stop Right There What Do You MEAN "Mystery Future Project"???

That's all for now goodbye!!!!!!

*The device he was speaking from explodes spontaneously*

[seas-of-silver]

Hi guys! I know it's been a while since I've done one of these, but last year was a bit insane, so I'm back, and so is this ask game!

This is a request from Ardvarkeating101, who doesn't have Tumblr but wanted to still play in the "first sentence then scene" ask game, so here's my response to their submission!

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

In retrospect, Adrien probably should have figured out that his father was Hawkmoth before a SWAT team burst through the doors of the mansion. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t put it all together before now.

Well, there was the laughing, for one. Father’s laughter had always sounded a little evil for as long as Adrien could remember, but it had been taking on a more maniacal quality in recent months. He had picked up on the change because initially he thought that maybe Nathalie had developed a funny bone and Father might have been finally warming up to her, especially since the more cackle-like laugh had become increasingly frequent. Also, the whole mansion is covered in pristine marble, meaning that his father’s cackles from the atelier carried and echoed throughout the mansion, and those random maniacal cackles would startle Adrien out of his focus when studying… as did the akuma that almost always soon followed.

And then there was Father’s recent designs. Adrien would be the first to admit he’s far more creative than artistic (seriously - his drawings were more of stick figure quality), but that didn’t stop him from being able to tell the quality of a design when he saw it - perks of growing up in the fashion industry, he supposed. After all, it was that exposure to fashion that enabled him to spot the quality of Marinette’s designs, and how they rivalled junior designers ten years her senior.

But Father’s designs had been on a steady and rather concerning decline. It had started with what Adrien could only guess was attempts at making fashion faux pas fashionable, such as the “sandals with socks” designs that didn’t quite capture the imagination, but with every visit he made to his father’s atelier, he witnessed the quality of the work and ideas continually deteriorate. Just last week Adrien saw a most ludicrous design that incorporated the currently in-trend of brightly coloured pants in combination with steampunk and fairy design elements that made for a painfully eye watering monstrosity. If it wasn’t for his father’s distinctive art style in the drawing, Adrien wouldn’t have believed his father was capable of something so repulsive.

Adrien had attributed it to grief, and thought his Father would eventually be inspired enough to break out of this slump, but it seemed that his artistic decline was far worse than Adrien had ever realised. His akumas proved that it was possible for his father to have no artistic integrity.

Then there was Ladybug herself suspecting his father, but he didn’t want to entertain that suggestion. And he had become an akuma, so that had settled that debate, but in retrospect the timing was unbelievably convenient.

And then there was the most damning piece of evidence of all - Father had an increased interest in Adrien. Father had always been a distant man; Adrien always knew that Mother was the only person he would actually show love for, and while Adrien yearned for his father to be more expressive in his affection to him as his son, he understood that this was just the way his father was. Though, that didn’t stop Adrien from wanting to get closer with his father and to know him better.

But then Father started to visit him, talk to him - and not just about his performance at the most recent photoshoot or runway show. He was asking about how Adrien felt. He was asking about school. He was talking about Mother. And he was asking about his ring, his Miraculous, not that his father knew about the true nature of the ring.

…or perhaps that’s why he asked? Did Father suspect he was Chat Noir? He had asked about it in multiple occasions, after all. It was unnervingly intense to experience at the time, so it was likely he suspected him, and Adrien wondered now how he had managed to convince his father that he wasn’t the Black Cat hero of Paris.

What made his father’s behaviour all the more bizarre (and all the more damning) was the constant hopscotch between being hot and cold. Father had berated Adrien for talking about Mother, but then offered to watch his mother’s movie with him and told Adrien that he “didn’t have to hide anything from him”.  Father had refused to let him go to New York, changed his mind and let him go, and then ordered him back home over the course of three days. Father had repeatedly given him permission to hang out with friends, and had rescinded his permission at the last minute just as frequently. It was baffling, confusing, and had made Adrien wonder whether Father was doing this on purpose, or whether the man was slowly losing his short-term memory.

…could abusing the Miraculous lead to damaged short-term memory? He’d have to ask Plagg. But that would have to wait until after the SWAT raid was over.

Adrien wished he could talk to Nino or Alya or Marinette, but with him being under the protection of four SWAT guards (or was he a prisoner? He wasn’t sure), he doubted he’d have the permission to call them. And transforming into Chat Noir and escaping to Ladybug was completely out of the question. So Adrien sat in overwhelmed silence as troops swarmed the mansion, investigating every nook and cranny of every room.

…or at least he was silent until he saw his very disheveled father, who looked like he fought a leaf blower and lost.

‘Why, Father?’ he asked, ignoring the stinging in his eyes as his father was being escorted in handcuffs with SWAT soldiers on either side of him. ‘Why would you do it?’

‘You would never understand,’ Father snarled, fighting against his restraints. ‘You don’t love her like I do.’

‘Who?’ Adrien asked desperately. ‘Mother?’

Just then, Nathalie emerged, restrained and disheveled just like his father was.

‘Nathalie?!’ Adrien yelped, disbelieving. ‘What- why? How? You knew?’

Nathalie looked away, silent.

Father and Nathalie were read their Miranda rights and informed of their charges being the magical terrorists Hawk Moth and Mayura respectively, shoved unceremoniously into the back of a SWAT vehicle, and were driven away with an armoured entourage. The remaining SWAT soldiers continued to scour the mansion, while two intimidating men approached Adrien and his guards.

‘Adrien Agreste, I am Corporal Jean Briand, the leader of this SWAT Unit. How are you coping with all this?’

‘I- I…’ Adrien stammered, trying to form a sentence as his mind screamed incoherently. ‘I don’t know.’

‘That’s understandable,’ Corporal Briand said sympathetically. ‘I can only imagine it’s a lot to take in.’

Adrien thought that was a bit of an understatement.

‘Am… am I under arrest, sir?’ Adrien asked.

‘No, no you’re not,’ the Corporal reassured with a small smile. ‘Chat Noir may be a vigilante hero, but that’s hardly a reason to charge you, especially since you protected millions of civilians with your selfless bravery against a magical threat.’

Adrien’s eyes popped out of his head.

‘You… you know?’

Corporal Briand and the other SWAT soldiers chuckled.

‘You really need to find better hiding places to transform than behind a bush, tree or park bench,’ the Corporal chided gently. ‘But so does that friend of yours.’

‘My friend? You mean Ladybug?’ Adrien asked. 

‘Yes, a young Miss-‘

‘WAIT!’ Adrien exclaimed. ‘Don’t tell me!’

‘Hang on, so you seriously don’t know who she is?’ SWAT Guard 1 asked, amused. ‘I thought that was just a gimmick.’

‘Of course they didn’t know! Were you even paying attention during surveillance?’ SWAT Guard 3 asked.

‘Of course I was!’ Guard 1 protested. ‘But with how close they were, it was hard to believe they didn’t know!’

‘Didn’t stop you from betting on their reveal though,’ SWAT Guard 4 muttered with a smirk, and Guard 1 glared at them.

‘Huh?’ uttered Adrien.

‘Come one, man,’ said SWAT Guard 2, ‘did you really think they were going that far to hide their identities from the world if they really had revealed to each other? They don’t have that kind of intricate level of forward planning.’

‘Oh really?’ Guard 1 retorted. ‘What about Ladybug’s battle plans?’

‘What about the transformation hiding spots Adrien and Ma-’

‘No, it’s true!’ Adrien piped up, cutting off Guard 2 from revealing his lady’s name. ‘We really don’t know, and I’m not going to betray her trust by learning who she is from you guys, no offence.’

‘None taken,’ said Guard 1. ‘But now I’m looking forward to that reveal for more than just the bet.’

Adrien was reeling, his head spinning like a tornado from emotional whiplash, the million and one questions he had about the events and information revealed over the past hour and a bit, and wanting to know what kind of bet these SWAT soldiers had made about him and Ladybug. He suddenly felt very sympathetic with Dorothy and Toto.

‘So how did you find out about Father and Nathalie? And about me and Ladybug?’ Adrien asked.

‘We started investigating into Hawk Moth as soon as he made his dramatic debut in September,’ Corporal Briand began, ‘and kept a keen eye on events as they occurred. We don’t take kindly to terrorists of any kind, and that includes magical ones. We reached out to a few specialist groups as we tried to narrow down the nature of this magic, as UNIT confirmed it wasn’t alien of origin, but it wasn’t easy. All we had to off was your friend’s Ladyblog, and our own observations, including the fact that you were interacting with a creature that didn’t register on any electronic devices.’

‘Creature?’ he echoed.

‘The black cat-like wingless flying one that has an affinity for Camembert,’ the Corporal replied. ‘Our snipers had spotted you taking to what seemed like thin air, until they switched their digital scopes for analog ones.’

‘Right, smart,’ Adrien conceded dumbly.

‘But what really helped us find Hawk Moth and Mayura was, rather simply, CCTV,’ the Corporal admitted. ‘Just because we couldn’t see the floating creatures on video didn’t mean we couldn’t see things like transformations or where people travelled to and from. All it took was unlimited access to Paris’s CCTV network, using social media posts of people’s sightings, and good old fashioned investigation to solve the puzzle. Well, that, and Shanghai and New York.’

‘What about those?’ Adrien asked.

‘Because Hawk Moth and Mayura made very few in-person appearances in battles, it slowed our investigation considerably, but we still had a selection of possible suspects,’ the Corporal explained. ‘But after Hawk Moth’s attacks in both China and the US, the only one from our suspect pool who was present in both countries during both attacks was your father. We already had all our main suspects under 24 hour surveillance from before New York, but we had to make sure we had enough indisputable evidence to take to court before we could make the arrest.’

‘Oh,’ he uttered. ‘So were Ladybug and I under investigation?’

‘Initially,’ Corporal Briand admitted, ‘but once we discovered you two were just teenagers who had taken on the mammoth responsibility of using magic to protect the city and fight the terrorists, you two got downgraded in priority, but still kept under surveillance, just in case.’

‘Right,’ muttered Adrien, just as another SWAT soldier emerged from some sort of van and approached them.

‘Sir,’ the soldier said, ‘the magical items are clean, yet the Peacock one shows signs of damage. We’ve completed our assessments on the items to submit as evidence.’

‘Excellent,’ Corporal Briand said, and the soldier handed him two plastic evidence bags. ‘Now we just need to ensure they’re the real deal. Adrien, can you do the honours?’

Corporal Briand held out the plastic bags to him, and Adrien tentatively accepted them, and sucked in a sharp breath when he saw two broaches within them.

Adrien’s throat suddenly felt like it had swollen, and it was harder to breathe or swallow.

‘Um, before I do,’ Adrien said hesitantly, ‘what will happen to these Miraculouses? Recovering these Miraculouses and other lost or stolen Miraculous-related items was a major part of Ladybug’s and my job. Will we be able to take them back to their rightful place, or will you be taking them for evidence? And will we be able to retrieve them if you do take them for evidence?’

‘Don’t worry, Adrien,’ Corporal Briand told him with a smile. ‘You can take the Miraculouses with you. We just need proof that those are the real deal, so that we can confirm we got the right people and that the threat is well and truly over… and maybe, where possible, answer a few of our questions just in case we find ourselves facing a similar threat in the future. And don’t worry about yours and Ladybug’s identities - we’ll keep them secret.’

Adrien nodded warily, wishing he had the comfort of Ladybug’s presence beside him, and put on the Miraculouses. Immediately, two kwami emerged.

‘Yes, Mas- wait - Adrien?’ the purple butterfly kwami asked disbelievingly.

‘Adrien! It’s Adrien!’ cried the blue peacock one. ‘It’s soooo nice to finally meet you! Em- bleugh! I hate those bubbles! Ugh, your mum used to talk about you all the time!’

‘Duusu!’ scolded the purple one while Adrien spluttered.

‘Mum? My mum? What- how did you know her?’ Adrien asked, the words practically falling out of his mouth in frazzled sudden desperation.

‘Well-’

‘Before that,’ interrupted the purple one, looking warily at the soldiers, ‘who are these people?’

‘Oh!’ Adrien exclaimed. ‘Right, sorry - this is Corporal Braind and his team. They’re the ones who rescued you two from, um, Father and Nathalie.’

‘Woohoo!’ cried Duusu, waving their stubby arms in the air as the purple one relaxed somewhat. ‘Rescuers! Nooroo, we’re saved!’

‘Yes, apparently,’ Nooroo commented.

‘Oh!’ Duusu gasped. ‘If you’re rescuers, you can get Em- bleugh! I hate those bubbles! You can rescue his mum, then, right?’

This time, it wasn’t just Adrien’s eyes that popped out in shock.

‘Wait, what?’

[galvanizedfriend]

yokan! hi! ♡

first of all, how are you?? did you recover from that terrible cough? I hope everything has gone for the better since the last time you told me about it :(

So, I had a question about TW! shocking, I know 🫠

I was wondering what are your plans for Freelin (i think that's how it's called), Marbekah, and Klaroline's wedding!

I've never really been a fan of Marebekah (although I do enjoy a lot the characters), and honestly, since I've never watched TO, I have 0 thoughts about Freelin (but from what I've gathered, they just happened out of the bat).

I know you already said you don't care for the individual character enough to change their plot/history, but still, since i know you're not a fan of the former either, do you plan on let them go their separate ways, or to just give them the same treatment you gave to Kolvina — aka, keeping them together but only giving them scenes that are important for the plot? (assuming that they have any).

The same question goes for Freelin, too, of course!! from what I've heard, they're quite problematic, too, even if not as much as Marebekah. Now, since Kreelin was only useful from the venom (or at least, I believe so? I mean, she's not even a Crescent) do you plan on bringing her back and giving her any story with Freya?

AND NOW, ABOUT KLAROLINE: Are you planning on writing the actual wedding scene, or just do a "fade to black"?👀

I understand that, in both cases, we'll probably have to wait until the very last chapter, so perhaps you're still not 100% sure about what to do... but I felt the need to ask about it🫠

I'm sorry if this came out more of a mix of disconnected thoughts rather than a proper message, but it's late and my brain does not hold enough respect for the English language to give a once-over at this and correct every mistake.

Anyway, love you, hope you got better, and that Barcelona is treating you well xoxo

Hi, friend! How's it going? Thanks for checking in, you're so sweet ❤️ I am better, thank you! I'm still coughing tho lol Not as often, but I do have some annoying fits from time to time. I think it might not be from the flu, but rather that mystical thing I've heard so much about called pollen. It's not really a thing in Brazil, but apparently it fucks people up a lot here, and I was told this annoying allergic type of cough is one of the symptoms. Anyway 😂 So, for Marcel and Rebekah, I have to say I'm on the fence. I wasn't really thinking about that, but once I started writing TW4 I realized I have a very good opportunity to break them up for good and I might do it. As for Freya and Keelin, as I said, I just don't care about Freya enough 😂 I'm keeping her story as it is and adding Keelin whenever relevant. I realize there is a problematic factor there, but tbh it doesn't bother me? I mean, what isn't problematic in that show? I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to fantasy because you need a certain degree of tolerance towards certain things otherwise you can't enjoy anything anymore. There are things where I draw a line (*cough*Damon*cough*) but Freelin I don't mind. So yeah, they're still a thing. Not like Kol and Davina, though. Kol is a much more present character, he gets POVs and all. Freya doesn't, so her story only happens as background. The Klaroline wedding I will keep to myself for the time being 🤐 I need at least one person to keep reading so I might push myself to the finish line, so I will hold you in suspension 😂 I will tell you tho, you're right, I'm not 100% sure yet. I have changed my mind so many times about so many things. I have an outline, but it still feels very much up in the air. I have six more chapters to make up my mind 😂 Thank you for checking in, friend! Hope you're doing well too ❤️ Have a lovely rest of your week!

[ginjones]

An ending (Ascent)

It’s probably not normal, Hob will reflect later, to walk in on your boyfriend sitting cross legged on the floor, wearing a giant pair of headphones, clutching a spoon in one hand, and staring into the middle distance in what can only be described as a state of divine rapture.

Perhaps it is for celebrities who have access to all the really good drugs, but celebrities don’t leave their partners bundled up in bed while they nip to Tesco’s to buy more milk.

It’s also not normal that he’s completely naked, save for one black sock which sits defiantly on his left foot. That would explain the detritus of clothing which greeted him on his way down the hall, but not whatever…this is.

Dream is sitting with his back to the living room bookcase where Hob keeps his vinyl, a selection of it discarded around him. He’s playing absently with the cord of the huge Bose headphones, weaving the coils around his delicate fingers, lost in thought. And there’s nothing to suggest he’s noticed Hob’s presence, no questioning whether Hob has remembered to pick up his favourite snack. For a moment, Hob wonders if he should whip out his phone; take a sneaky picture of this ceremonious event. Then he notices the shimmer of tears falling serenely down his partner’s cheeks and discards the notion entire.

“You okay, sweeting?”

No response. He shrugs off his messenger bag and sits down to join him, scooting over the laminate floor in a graceless bum shuffle.

A soft, white light from the overhead lamp illuminates the scene. It pours over Dream like a sheet of pure silk, highlighting his nakedness and the paleness of his skin. There’s a wonder to his expression; something soft in the way his mouth is held slightly open, his hair mussed from sleep. Like a renaissance painting, he thinks, in the way that all academics conflate one thing with the other. like Iris in the land of Hypnos and yet, he looks so human.

Because of course, he is.

It’s been 4 months and 3 days since he’d chosen to join Hob in the earthly realm of humanity. Hob’s been keeping track on the calendar, trying to offer him one new experience a day. They’ve watched classic movies, read each other poetry, (Dream still has the perfect voice for orating) and early last week Hob had introduced him to modern music (the Beatles were a hit, the Stone Roses were not).

Hob’s immediate presence must break Dream out of his reverie because slowly, sapphire eyes meet his and wordlessly he places the spoon down, picks up the sleeve of an album and holds it out to Hob like it’s the Turin shroud.

It’s not immediately identifiable. The artwork a scant wash of beige imposed over an image of moon craters; aesthetically pleasing yes, but not particularly noteworthy. Hob’s collected vinyl for the better part of five decades but his visual memory’s not the best. Without being able to hear what Dream’s listening to he’s drawing a bit of a blank. Then he sees the sparse red writing at the top and the name down the side and all at once, it clicks.

Brian Eno has broken my boyfriend.

It’s not the first time Dream’s had such a visceral response to artwork in these acclimating months. It had been very sweet to find him weeping over local artwork in the coffee shop they’d visited in Coventry. The issue was the shame he’d felt afterwards. In the car park outside, Hob had soothed him, rubbing gentle circles across his back as he listened patiently to Dream’s lament that it was all too much, these…feelings. I cannot hide them like I did before.

This time however, the tears seem to have stopped and a hazy sort of smile plays at the corner of his lips. He’s coming back to himself and in the privacy of this moment, shared only with Hob, he may be able to appreciate this outpouring of emotion for it is, something human.

“Want to take off the cans so we can talk, love?”

Hob’s pretty sure Dream hasn’t learnt to read lips, but the headphones are slowly lifted away, leaving the tinny echo of the song playing in the background. His expression changes to imitate something of his former status, a furrow of the brow, a regal upturn of his chin.  

“Ah, you have return to me. You woke me when you left you know?”

He does, in fact know this. When he had risen gently from bed that morning, Dream had moved to pull him back; a flow of pale arms moving like water, muscles softened from sleep. He’s still getting used to it; the sense that Dream belongs here. That he won’t apparat back into endlessness, leaving the bed cold, the tea undrunk, the rooms quietened by his absence.

“And I’m guessing that’ll be the reasoning you give when I find arse prints on my lovely, new laminate floor?”

“You were gone for too long; I decided to entertain myself.”

“By listening to Brian Eno naked?”

“Yes”, his eyes trail down slowly to observe his current state, “I realised clothing was detracting from the experience.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that.

“So, you like Brian Eno, and I can see that he’s affected you,” Dream nods slowly, looking down to the album on the ground. “What is it about this album in particular, because I can tell there are some big feelings here. I want you to know we can discuss them.”

For a moment, Dream is silent, playing with the cord in his hands. He’s sitting a little straighter now, his shoulder muscles tightened in a familiar stance. Weighted by the question perhaps, a wish to answer dutifully, but still, he pauses for several seconds longer, worrying his bottom lip.

“It is… soothing I suppose. I enjoyed the piece Mata from this composition. It is nightmarish in its construction, recalling a jungle swollen with noxious blooms, but this one?”, he places a finger to the title, An ending (Ascent). “It remindsme of the space between form and thought where I once spun the diaphanous silk of my creations. It was where I was most at peace and upon listening, I found myself reminded of those moments.”

That is, quite frankly, a lot to unpack.

At his core, Dream remains a storyteller, weaving an elaborate web of seemingly disparate ideas. Hob finds it all a bit overwhelming. How he can take a piece of art, deconstruct it, and recraft it into something new. Pulling inspiration from the air, plucking its strings, and finding where the vibrations cross paths with his own experience. And Hob must be getting better at reading his partners mind because, in a quiet, searching tone, Dream asks:

“Has it been written for me?”

This man, Hob thinks This man who has come back to me, who has crept into my life and reads my books and listens to my music. This man who lays himself out to me in naked candour.

“Oh love, come here then. Give us a cuddle.” He’s blushing now, a pink hue spreading across the lily paleness of his chest. His skin is warm when Hob pulls him closer, and it smells sweet and living from sweat. “I mean, maybe? You tell me. Ever pay Mr Eno a visit like you did Shaxberd?”

“No,” Dream continues, “but it is as if this man has looked upon me and glimpsed a fragment of my being.”

“That’s a common phenomenon of the human experience I think. Lots of people feel like songs speak directly to them. Yours just happens to be written by Brian Eno-which doesn’t surprise me,” he chuckles affectionately, “he’s quite a conceptual artist-it’s all very ethereal.”

“Ethereal…” Dream pauses, his brow crinkled in thought. “Yes, there’s an otherworldliness to it I suppose… but a tangibility all the same. How the counter melody sits low in the mix-the bass notes appear rooted to the earth while the top notes look towards the sky. What did the first humans wonder when they looked towards my mother? I do not know…. I did not care for them as I do now”.

“Well,” Hob continues, “perhaps they thought about their own existence? Their place in a world which is confusing and often painful. Perhaps they wanted to feel like they were being protected by something bigger than themselves. Spirts; angels.”

“Angels?”, Dream scoffs “Angels do not sing like this. The holy choir is faultless in its melodies. It lacks the vibrancy of imperfection, the subtle intricacies of the human spirit. No; this piece holds far more divinity.”

“Ever thought about taking up music journalism Dove? Pitchfork would have a field day.”

As predicted, there’s no response to that.

So, Hob bundles him up and they sit on the sofa listening to Apollo together. Tomorrow, he’ll try and convince Dream to watch 28 days later, with the promise that An Ending (Ascent) is in the soundtrack. They’ll eat nothing but comfort food and Hob will remind Dream to brush his teeth before he goes to bed and in an otherworldly Parthenon, the muses will smile fondly down, and kiss the brow of a kindred aesthete.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

Can you forgive me?

John feels nauseous when Sherlock gets his will. They’re allowed to open the grave to prove the great detective’s theory. Sherlock wants John to come, though he really should’ve known better, according to John. It’s their second crime scene together since Sherlock came back from his faked death, and things are strained between them. Their co-habitation is tense and awkward, which makes John itchy and half-mad with anger and sorrow equally measured.

John’s told everyone that he went to visit Sherlock’s grave twice a month, but the truth is that he’s only been there once. He couldn’t bear to see the black gravestone with Sherlock’s name on it. It doesn’t help much that the grave that’s about to be opened, is only a few metres away from Sherlock’s fake grave. John hasn’t dared to look in the direction out of fear that he’ll do something terribly stupid, like falling apart in front of half of the Yard.

“Are you alright?” Sherlock murmurs beside him, having taken a break from pestering the men with the shovels.

“If you have to ask, the answer should be obvious,” John mutters under his breath.

His hands are balled into fists in his jacket pockets, his body stiff and alert. Sherlock draws a breath and is about to speak, when Lestrade calls him over. The grave is open.

“Empty, like you said,” Lestrade tells Sherlock. “How on earth did you know?”

Sherlock speaks rapidly, leading the yarders in the direction of the man who’s faked his death, and Lestrade takes his leave.

“Aren’t we going with them?” John asks hoarsely when Sherlock stands beside him again, gazing over at where his gravestone once was.

“No, they don’t need us anymore today. I’m taking you home, and then we’ll talk, and I’ll tell you why…”

Sherlock’s voice breaks and John looks shocked at him.

“Alright?” John asks and places a hand on Sherlock’s back.

Sherlock’s body shakes and John acts on instinct, forgetting all about his anger. He pulls Sherlock in for a tight embrace, relishing the sudden proximity of this madman.

“Can you forgive me, John?” Sherlock whispers with a trembling voice.

“I don’t know,” John says honestly. “But, by the state of you now, I guess it was much more to your absence than a crazy and exhilarating adventure. Tell me.”

John leads them to a secluded bench close to where John stood and begged a dead man not to be dead, two years ago. When John had told Sherlock about it, his reply had been – “I know. I heard you.”

His voice had been soft, even affectionate, but at the time, it’d just irked John. He wanted to scream and shake Sherlock and ask him why he hadn’t told John. Why he wasn’t allowed to come with him. Why he’d let him grieve like a widower. He hadn’t but it had taken all his willpower to act calm and just nod, pretending everything was business as usual. Which it wasn’t.

It should feel strange to hold Sherlock like this. Soothing him, stroking his back, whispering “shh”, and “I’ve got you”, and “I’m so glad you’re back”, and “I’ve missed you.” But the truth is, it feels utterly natural, a thing John’s longed to do for ages. Even before the Fall.

Sherlock’s head rests comfortably on John’s right shoulder, and his breathing eases, grows steadier. Time to confess.

When Sherlock’s finished telling John about the snipers, Moriarty’s unexpected suicide, his quest to hunt down and destroy the dead man’s network, ending it all by telling John about his last days away, in Serbia, captured and tortured; it’s John’s turn to break down. He weeps in Sherlock’s arms, hiding his face in the crook of Sherlock’s neck, letting Sherlock stroke his hair, rocking him, whispering “I had no other choice”, and “I would’ve taken you with me if I could”, and “you were always on my mind”, and “I missed you every second I was away from you.”

When they walk past the empty grave, John shudders. He turns around to locate Sherlock’s gravestone, but it’s no longer there. 

“Mycroft had it removed last week,” Sherlock says. That’s why I needed you to come along today, so that you could see it with your own eyes.”

John nods and turns to face Sherlock. He grips the lapels of Sherlock’s coat, pulls him closer, looking him square in the eyes.

“I forgive you,” John says softly and leans in to kiss Sherlock’s lips.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @safedistancefrombeingsmart @peanitbear @topsyturvy-turtely @helloliriels @gregorovitchworld

[fadedsaturated]

The difference between this story and other series that do the same thing is that this story naturally built towards the events that happened in this episode. The story makes sense because everything has been properly plotted from the start. We have known Moo's dream from the very first scene. We know how important it is to him. we also know how much Kang takes care of Moo and puts him first. everything about this episode makes perfect sense and was handled beautifully. None of the events felt artificial or just for drama's sake, because this episode is a result of every piece that has been building since episode 1, and to me it's just very good writing. I have no doubt things are going to wrap up beautifully in these last two episodes. Truly I am wowed every week by how great this show is at all the things it sets out to do.

This was how it had to go down, and it feels earned because everything was set up to happen this way. The story was never really about calling out the toxicity of the idol culture, but rather how two kind hearted loving people must navigate it. If this had started as a story about Moo trying to change the ways idols do things that'd be one thing, but this is still very much a story working within the narrative of "becoming an idol" and by default this is a roadblock that many must face, so it's not about him doing some unrealistic thing to win the day, but how two characters navigate a situation that's very real. And THAT is where the love story excels because it's always been about Moo and Kang and how they tackle things to make their love work. The idol stuff is just the final boss, so to speak.

Also break ups just happen, with couples sometimes. And in Moo and Kang's case it comes completely from a place of love. There's no contrivances here. Kang deeply loves Moo and by him doing this it just shows that intense love even more. I get that this is a fantasy story, but all fantasies draw from the humanity of reality, and that is why I know that despite these troubling times (which only show their deep love anyways) we will get that fantasy happy ending. Because both Moo and Kang deserve it, and have worked hard for it. ❤️

[nomsfaultau]

thank you so much for writing mandatory family reunion. i just reread it for the eighth time. i think im going to dedicate my life to life to reading your other sbi fics until you update again. also; do you have any tips for committing to fics and not leaving them half-finished?

ahhhh that’s so sweet glad you enjoyed! As for writing fics, having it be your special interest really helps. But for more general advice on finishing:

-Don’t stick to just one story. Which seems counter intuitive! But inevitably you’re going to hit a snag in one story. So instead of stopping writing at all, switch projects. Writing involves a whole bunch of thinking, and stuff needs time to percolate in the back of your head. But having a small project to work on in the mean time keeps you engaged in the writing process, gives you practice, makes you feel like you’re making progress, and allows time to work out the other story. I personally have 1-2 main projects, Fault and MFR, and then rotate a couple back burner stories that I work on whenever I get inspiration and fully expect to have very slow progress and possibly never finish. Short stories, one shots, hell even just writing little one off scenes that don’t go anywhere. It’s a way to keep writing fun and thus you’re more likely to continue working on the stuff you’re trying to complete. Don’t feel bad if there’s breaks between working on your main project. Writing involves a lot of thinking and it takes time to do that.

-Devoting time to do that thinking also significantly helps. When you’re falling asleep can be a good time to rotate stories in your head. Could also be if you’re walking from place to place, or brushing your teeth, or other little gaps in the day. Even if you’re not physically writing, it’s still part of the process and can make it easier when you actually sit down to write because you know what scene you’re most excited to work on. Also, talking over your story idea with a friend is a great way to stay motivated if you can get over the mortifying ordeal of being known. You can bounce ideas off them, and other people’s investment in a project can be a great motivator to finish. Like legit a single ao3 comment once stopped me from my plan to abandon a fic. Reminding yourself why you (and other people) like the story makes it easier to want to continue.

-Keeping a rough outline of what you envision for the story can give you a road map to how close to done you are and where to go next. Just like you can hop between projects, I find jumping around the plot time line to write what scene I’m most interested in atm keeps me going instead of writing everything in order. Though, all writers have different degrees of plot planning, so that depends on your style.

-Art! I’m an artist, and while writing definitely fuels what I draw, I find doodling cool scenes I want to write really inspires me to keep going. This sorta falls under the same category of continuing to think about the story and motivating you to finish. -I found keeping a writing journal has improved how I view my writing. Basically, I’ll jot down a bullet point list of scenes worked on that week/month. Writing is a very slow process, so seeing a timeline of actual progression on a story makes it feel like I’m actually getting more out of my head and onto paper. I also jot down what ideas for scenes I came up with since that’s also part of writing, and might include a chill no stakes writing goal for that period, like work on X or Y project, or a particular scene. Sometimes my goal is just ‘write at least one sentence’. I give it lots of leeway, and accept that the muse may just be somewhere else that week. And if the goal isn’t met, no sweat! Life can get busy at times and it’s more important that you aren’t beating yourself up if it’s been awhile since you last touched a project. Forcing yourself to write a scene that isn’t ready won’t result in a good scene or an happy writer. Switch projects, give yourself time to think about it, take care of yourself, etc.

And, legitimately, don’t be afraid to abandon a piece. Maybe you’ll come back to it, maybe you won’t. It can feel disheartening to feel like you can’t seem to finish a project, but unfinished pieces also do a lot for you: they hone your craft, allow you a creative outlet, give you scenes that could potentially be reworked for later pieces, and most importantly were hopefully fun to write! Story crafting is a hobby that should bring you joy, not frustration and shame.

Like, I have stories that will never see the light of day and are just so I can have fun and poke it with a stick occasionally. I’m 100% confident in saying that every author will have tenfold the number of unfinished wips compared to complete works. That’s just part of the creative process: exploring different worlds to find the one you want to write.

Perhaps a fic might never get finished, but in the wise words of Technoblade: “if you enjoy it, it’s not time wasted, no?”

(Now, I think he was talking about murdering people, but the point still stands.)

[herotome]

Devlog #126

Hi-ho, Wudge here.

Happy new year! And open disclosure, I uh... kinda worked through the holidays. And in fact, I... worked this past weekend...

My friend @crescencestudio informed me I also worked through the holidays last year... So uh, I think I owe myself a break.

ᵂʰᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᴵ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ…

A-- Ahem.

On expressions - I'm reaching a point where I drew enough assets that I can mix and match! ... Mia doesn't have a single smile just yet.

I organized the PSD/.clip files for Mia and Warden a great deal too - much easier to find revelant layers now. Haven't finished importing/coding the expressions into the game yet - that'll be a whole song and dance for another day.

There's a few more small parts I wanna draw (namely irises to the side, and a 'talking' open mouth), and then she should be all set for her demo scene. Fingers crossed.

I'll either jump back to Warden next, or move onto Griffin.

I also drew.... three concepts for potential upcoming characters (and for 2 objects!). I don't wanna show them off since there's no guarantee that they'll be in the game/that this will be their final designs, but I can at least give a lil peek:

I had a nice time comparing these concepts to my concept art from 1-2 years ago! My line confidence seems to have improved :D

It's kinda weird since gesture and linework were always My Thing when I worked traditionally, but when I transitioned to digital art there was still a huge learning curve! I'm happy to have gotten better at it, but it took a surprising long while.

Writing-wise - I came up with what I think is a preeetty solid idea for showing off Mia's powers in-game! I have a rough draft/notes of the scene, it's not remotely near first draft completion, but I can at least show off this choice menu:

That's about it, I think...!

Sorry I've been slacking a bit on getting back with yall - I see yalls messages and they are delightful. I've been spending my spoons too recklessly - I'll really try to take a bit of time off to get myself back to normal. So uh, maybe no devlog next week - I'll try not to hold myself to it and just. try. not to work. lol.

Thank you for bearing with me!!!

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.