#and when it was something I did like (coffee creme brulee) I was like wow this defied all expectations I've fallen in love

[moon-jellie]

I had two new food experiences last night and this morning and both times I was like wow I am so marcille dunmeshi...she would react exactly like me in this situation...

[daily-rayless]

Fic-writer questions!

I stole this from @runicmagitek so thank you! I'm not going to tag anyone specifically, but I know I have a number of talented fic-writing mutuals, so take a stab at this if you want to.

I'm going to include original fiction in a few places, as well as all my fics currently posted to FFN, just so we have more data to work with.

How many works do you have on AO3?

FFN: 52

AO3: 10

What's your total AO3 word count?

FFN (assuming their word counter is still functional, which is perhaps foolish of me): 601436

AO3: 517070

What fandoms do you write for? Tales of the Abyss, Transistor, and Fate most recently. In the past, Persona, Suikoden, Harry Potter, Soul Nomad, Makai Kingdom, Yggdra Union, Wild Arms, and some assorted others.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? (Including FFN's faves):

363 – Birds (Harry Potter)

333 – Death and Ker (Persona 3)

182 – Elysion (Persona 3 & 4)

180 – Word on the Inside (Persona 4)

122 – Crime and Creme Brulee (Persona 4)

All on FFN! These are all very old fics, and I think I'll need a good long while before I get numbers like that on AO3.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Generally, yes. I like to let the reader know I'm aware of them and appreciate them leaving their thoughts, because readers who do want to comment are a minority. As for situations where I wouldn't, I'd probably ignore a flame. Or if a person leaves a bunch of comments at once, I might not respond to each individually. Or if someone left something without much context, like “huh” or “wow”, I might have no idea how to respond and just leave it.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hm, it could depend. Anyone who's reading Scarlet has probably already played Yggdra Union and knows we're going to end with our fourteen-year-old heroine falling in battle while desperately defending her kingdom. “Misbegotten” focuses on the Demon Path of Soul Nomad, so, again, you'd go into that with a certain expectation of angst. So I think my ending that combines the most angst with surprise is the ending of “Cycles”, a Normal Path Soul Nomad fic where I decided to explore the game's concept of reincarnation. So someone dies at the end, very abruptly and somewhat graphically. The fact that I let Gig and Revya be married in it adds to the angst. Looking back more than ten years, yeah, it's very angsty, but I got some good feedback for it, so I don't regret it.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? On the subject of happy endings, I've been accused of not liking them. I love happy endings! But I do live in some dread of things feeling too pat and “wrapped up with a bow”. A lot of my oneshots are fairly low stakes, so the endings are happy enough, but looking at my longer stuff... Soul Searching ends with Gig and Revya getting married, the world being at peace, everything on a pretty happy note. (Unless you count the tragedy of Danette eating all of Gig's and Revya's hotpods, and, honestly, you should.)

Do you get hate on fics? I've never gotten seriously flamed so far. In the early 2010s, there was this one anon going through Persona fics and leaving very short flames on MinakoxShinjiro stuff, barely changing their wording at all. It was extremely low effort, impersonal, and I don't really count it.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? No, I wouldn't say so. When it comes to sex, I tend to focus more on a few individual details than a moment-to-moment description, and then the reader can fill in what they're comfortable with. With my latest original project (not Eola), I did get the threshold moment of my mom reading the draft and saying, “You write sex really well!”

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Okay, so when I was much younger, in the early 2000s, I had this long-running thing I wrote that I ended up calling “Kuja's Coffee-Bean Cafe”. Basically, it was a crossover of every video game I'd played at the time, where Kuja from Final Fantasy 9 ran a restaurant where all the various villains gather and have their own hierarchy and petty infighting and shenanigans. Some good guys are allowed to visit, and some of them have been captured for the villains' amusement, and all of it was played for humor. Trust me when I tell you that it was very funny to me at the time and it does not hold up. (Though it did make me speculatively ship Sephiroth and Celes, and I still think that ship has merit...) Since then, I do still sometimes write crossovers, but they're for my own amusement.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Last year (I think?) there was a post going around about how a lesser-known fan archive was grabbing stuff from FFN and AO3...but I honestly don't remember whether any of my fics were affected.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, not that I know of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? My best friend and I came up with a Lion King sequel which I then wrote down. Some years later, me and the same friend wrote two original novellas together. For the first one, one of us would write a paragraph or two, and then the other would take over, and it built from there. For the second one (which we never finished), we each controlled a main character, so we would switch off for dialogue and individual actions, but otherwise we shared the rest of the story. It worked pretty well, and if you have a writing buddy whose style works with yours, I highly recommend it.

What's your all-time favorite ship? I'm not sure I have a mathematically favorite ship versus whatever ship I'm currently most focused on. In 2019, it was Red and Boxer from Transistor. Last year, it was Asch and Natalia from Tales of the Abyss. Right now, I've been swinging back towards Archer and Hakuno from Fate.

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I've always been sad I never finished Public Speaking, my Suikoden V longfic about super minor npc Salisha Raulbel and what she thought of the war. It was very niche, but readers still found it and enjoyed it. I hung with it for two years, between 2006-08, but a lot was happening in my life, I was changing as a person, I was getting into new fandoms, and I couldn't maintain my interest; I also abandoned another long Suikoden fic and an original novel during that period. What's even worse was that the fic was over halfway done, and for a couple years afterwards, I would get comments asking for an update. I think that's part of why I now never start posting fics until I've completed at least one draft. Do I think I'll pull one of those 10+ Years Later updates? Probably not. But it was a good fic, and I'm sorry I left people hanging.

What are your writing strengths? I'm told my dialogue and descriptions are good. People also seem to respond well to my emotional scenes. And of course on my next book I'm going to put this right on the cover:

“She writes sex well!” – Her Mom

What are your writing weaknesses? Having just praised my dialogue, I'll admit I have a problem with slowing down dialogue to add too much physical communication – compressed lips, narrowed eyes, raised eyebrows. I know it can start to feel ridiculous, but I want you all to see the scene I'm seeing and I can't very well hire actors. I also feel like my fight scenes aren't the greatest; I find them a pain to write. Probably a byproduct of not running around the wilderness with a sword myself. I also, no matter how hard I try, fall prey to typos. I'm pretty good at editing other people's work, but my own writing is a whole 'nother animal.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I think it's a case by case thing. In general though, it can be overdone, especially if the author is, say, writing a character who's speaking in Spanish, but they keep having the character saying “I'm going to do my tarea” or “I need to go to la escuela!” when just saying “homework” and “school” flows so much more naturally. On the other hand, language is culture and character and history – using some of it can be very helpful in establishing setting and even time period. It also changes depending on how tightly we're in a character's pov. If we're right in the protagonist's head, and my hero doesn't speak French, and they overhear a spy saying, “J'ai volé le lapin sacré!" the meaning should remain a mystery. I shouldn't have the translation provided in a footnote or a parenthetical. On the other hand, if the pov is more pulled back and omniscient, then the author can translate it while reminding the reader the hero didn't understand it.

Overall, when it comes to using other languages, I think you need to keep the reader's needs in mind. If you want to throw out foreign phrases for a bit of flair, go for it, but limit it to phrases that aren't crucial to understanding the scene or story. Otherwise, you need to find a way to elegantly explain what's being said, without making it feel like a footnote. Something like that just breaks the immersive feeling of reading.

First fandom you wrote for? Probably that Lion King story. It was called The Lion King IV: The Revenge of Scar. There was a) no Lion King III and b) no Scar. I called it that because it took place three generations after the original (because that's how titles work), and Scar apparently had such a long con going he'd foreseen the actions of future evil lion villains who'd never even met him.

Favorite fic you've ever written? I'm going to repeat what I said on this post – The Beast in the Dark, the third installment of my unposted Fate trilogy. All three fics were written with the intention that I wouldn't be sharing them. That's also true of the Muse Trilogy and all my recent Tales of the Abyss stuff, but the Fate stuff was at a somewhat sadder, lonelier period in my life. I think that's one reason it's so special to me. Also, like I say in the linked post, because I wasn't going to share it, I allowed myself to throw all sorts of over the top tropes at it. I think it really helped me along in my writing, and, arguably, opening it up for public consumption might mess with how I feel about it. We'll see. I'm still not sure about posting it.

When it comes to fics I have posted though, I'll refer back to the same post and say Death and Ker. It was a fic that was really exciting both to write and post, right as Persona 3: Portable was coming out. I feel a lot of nostalgia for it, and while it's not perfect, I think parts of it still hold up.

[nokomiss]

deadtedkord replied to your post “taking prompts!”

more excellent jaysteph bonding please you're stuff for them is amazing!!

Even in Gotham, it’s hard to get takeout at 4am.  

So after a particularly grueling night fighting crime -- not Arkham-escape bad, but involving the Condiment King teaming up with Mad Hatter for easily one of the grossest in every imaginable way nights Steph could remember -- the troops all ended up at the Cave, fighting over who got into the showers first. The troops in question being Bruce, Damian, Tim, Jason and herself. Steph saw the writing on the wall immediately and booked it up stairs to shower in luxury before Bruce could complain about ketchup in his fancypants rich people showers.

After convincing herself that she couldn’t, actually, just live in the bathroom at Wayne Manor for the rest of her life, Steph reluctantly got out, wondering if she could convince Bruce that installing the same shower at her decidedly less luxurious home was actually a necessary crime fighting expense. The water pressure alone had relieved a few lingering muscle aches she’d been nursing a few days.  

She ransacked various rooms for a new, mustard-free outfit -- she had clothes stashed away somewhere, but everyone knew other people’s clothes are far superior, especially when they were Selina’s yoga pants, which she was never returning because damn they were amazing, Cass’ fuzzy socks and Tim’s softest hoodie.

By the time she returned to the cave, smelling like coconut and feeling like a champ, the boys had managed to clean themselves up and were bickering about food.

“I got Stromboli’s to deliver at 3 last week,” Damian was insisting, even though the Batcomputer clearly showed that they were closed.

“Maybe we could bribe someone at Batburger? They’re open all night,” Tim suggested, sounding doubtful about the prospect.

“There’s food here,” Steph suggested, because she, too, was starving.

Silence for a moment, then Bruce said, in a voice that almost sounded sheepish, “Alfred isn’t here.”

Steph felt a little bad about the smears of ketchup she’d undoubtedly left in the bathroom. “Did he… did he take the kitchen with him?”

“Pennyworth is the only one permitted to use the kitchen,” Damian said loftily while also not looking at anyone directly.

“Yeah, but… we’re hungry,” Steph pointed out.

“They don’t know how to cook,” Tim said, gesturing towards Bruce and Damian. “They’re really bad at it.”

“Like you’re any better,” Damian snapped. “Remember when you set the microwave on fire?”

“I didn’t realize there was still a spoon in the bowl!” The tops of Tim’s ears were turning bright red.

Steph looked at the only person in the room not howling about their own ineptitude in the kitchen. “Please tell me you’re not as useless as they are.”

“I’m insulted that you would think I am,” Jason replied. “I certainly didn’t grow up with a butler.”

Steph sighed, and said, “Wanna go make some food?”

Jason looked at the other three, who were suddenly very focused on writing the night’s mission report. “If it means we’re done with the paperwork, yeah.”

So she climbed the steps to up to the manor for the second time that night, and when she entered the kitchen she suddenly understood the silence and sheepish looks.

“I have seen active crime scenes less disastrous than this kitchen,” Jason said with an awed tone.

“How long has Alfred been gone? A year?” Steph said, staring. “And the question is, is he ever gonna return if he knows this is waiting on him?”

 “Probably he will, but he’ll finally snap and murder them all in a dishes-fueled rage,” Jason said, poking at the mountain of dirty china piled haphazardly in and around the sink.  He poked at a dish. “I’m pretty sure someone ate Spaghetti-Os out of fine china. Is this a real silver spoon?”

The spoon in question had curdled milk clinging to it.

“Okay so ten minutes ago, I would have told you there was no way anything could be grosser than Mad Hatter flopping around in a pool of mayonnaise,” Steph said, “but oh, how I have been proven wrong.”

“How do they even function as human beings?” Jason wondered. “Was it always this bad? I mean, I lived here. I know Bruce is an absolute moron in the kitchen. But…”  He looked around. “Wow.”

“Do you suddenly feel so much better about yourself as a person?” Steph said. “Because I gotta say. Really feeling good about myself right now.”

Jason offered a hand to high five, and Steph did, happily. They rummaged through the pantry side-by-side and found that the staples were still intact, though anything ready-made had been ransacked.  The fridge offered up similar bounty -- takeout leftovers of questionable providence, some wilting produce, and basics.  

“Pancakes?” Steph suggested once she saw the state of the waffle iron -- had someone tried to make a grilled cheese on it? -- and pulled out the dry ingredients. “I’m not willing to eat anything that requires a condiment right now.”  Thankfully maple syrup had not been one of Condiment King’s weapons of choice.

“I’ll make eggs,” Jason said, pulling out a carton. “And there’s some fake bacon of Damian’s.”

“We are a breakfast-making machine,” Steph said. It was true, too -- away from the chaos of crime fighting, she found that working alongside Jason in the kitchen was surprisingly easy. Steph stared at the sink again, and said, “I think that it’s time that certain vigilantes learned the domestic arts.”

“Yeah, we can’t let Alfred come back to this,” Jason said. “He’s too valuable. If he quit--”

“We’d never have his cookies ever again,” Steph said in horror. 

“Maybe we could steal Alfred,” Jason said after a pause. “Like, let nature take its course, then swoop in and take Alfred for our own.”

“Share custody of him,” Steph said, nodding. “We could put him on a rotating schedule, and give him days off, and… I don’t know. Let him join a book club, instead of spending all his time with these disasters.”

They spent a few moments in quiet contemplation of a life where Alfred showed up and made creme brulee at any hour of the day.  Then Steph sighed, giving the pancake batter one last stir before letting it sit and moving to the stove, clearing off several crystal goblets with what looked like coffee dregs in them before finding a griddle.  “There’s only one flaw with our plan.”

“The thing where Alfred loves Bruce like a son and would never abandon him to die alone and hungry in his filthy mansion?” Jason flipped the fake bacon.

“That’s the one,” Steph said, deciding the griddle was hot enough and spooning pancake batter onto it in cute little shapes. She thought that Damian’s should be hearts, and she experimented with bat-shapes for Bruce. 

Jason peered over and saw what she was doing. “I want stars.”

“Of course you do,” Steph said, though she tried to make one as soon as Damian’s hearts were done. It turned out a little wonky, but still recognizable. She was awesome. “Gotta be difficult, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason replied, cracking eggs into a bowl.  He glanced at the kitchen door. “Are they hiding in the cave in shame?”

“Like, it’s wrong, but the fact that I think they are makes me really happy,” Steph said. “Like, kind of makes up for all those times they acted like I was a moron for not knowing something.”

“Right?” Jason said. 

“I mean, how do you master dozens of different kinds of kung fu, but never once master the grilled cheese? I was making my own grilled cheese in kindergarten!”

“There are only three ingredients,” Jason agreed. “It’s a true embarrassment.”

“We should nominate him for Worst Cooks In America,” Steph said. “I really want to see Bruce on reality television, and that would be comedy gold.”

“Just seeing him get an invitation to be one of the worst of anything would be fucking amazing,” Jason said. “Like, congratulations, sir, you suck at this.”

“You suck so hard we want to feature you on television,” Steph snickered.  She flipped the last of Bruce’s pancakes onto a plate before they burned, and began making Tim’s. She tried to make a coffee mug shape, but it turned out looking like a blob, so she made teddy bears instead.  

“I mean, I kind of get why they’re so terrible at it,” Steph said, “given their upbringings. But I would have literally starved if I hadn’t figured out how to cook early on. Takeout was not an option.”

“Right? Only for special occasions,” Jason said. “The rest of the time, you had to make shit yourself.”

“Exactly,” Steph nodded. They didn’t really talk much about how they were the ones in the family who’d grown up poor, who’d spent a lot of time raising themselves because their parents hadn’t been capable of it. She knew it was why Bruce had compared them so much -- there was a startling amount of similarities between their childhoods, from their mothers’ drug problems to their fathers’ criminal inclinations -- and for once, it felt nice to be the ones with the necessary skills while everyone else floundered. 

They grinned at each other, then put the last of the food onto the plates.  Steph grabbed the maple syrup, and stopped short, staring at the calendar on the fridge. “Four days!”

“What?” Jason said through a mouthful of fake bacon.

“Alfred has only been gone four days,” Steph said, pointing to the note on the fridge, “and he left prepared meals.”  

They gazed in wonder at the chaos around them. 

“He’s going to be back tomorrow,” Jason said suddenly, pointing.  

“Okay, so we feed the troops, then we start Mission: Learn to Do the Damn Dishes,” Steph said. Sleep was for the weak. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jason said, and followed her to the breakfast nook, setting down Tim and Damian’s plates and going back for the rest. “Wanna tell them now?”

“Let them have a final meal first,” Steph said. “Then we’ll light a fire under them.”

Jason grinned. By the time Bruce, Tim and Damian came out of the Cave, she and Jason had polished off half of their meal, and Steph had to admit that delivering a lecture to Batman about chores was one of the highlights of her week.  Possibly the entire month.

It took until dawn, but Alfred came home to a kitchen that no longer looked like it had witnessed the collapse of civilization.

[lovemesomesurveys]

What Rhymes With “AY”? Warning: This survey has 114 questions

1. Do you enjoy listening to reggae music? I haven’t listened to much reggae music.

2. Have you ever rolled in hay before? No. I’m actually allergic.

3. Has anyone ever broken a promise they made? Of course. 

4. Last time you went to a café, what did you order? Coffee.

5. Have you ever been to a matinee performance before? No.

6. Would you like a chance to ride in Santa’s sleigh? Why or why not? Would it be like the one in The Santa Clause that had a hot chocolate and cookie dispenser? ha. Swap the hot chocolate with coffee, though.

7. Have you ever taken ballet lessons before? How about any other type of dance lessons? No. That was actually something I wished I could do when I was a kid and in high school. I thought the dance team was cool.

8. Do you own any sexy lingerie? Nope.

9. Have you ever caught a bouquet of flowers at a wedding before? Nope.

10. Do you know how to do the Whip/Nae Nae? I do, actually.

11. Have you ever played croquet before? Nope. 

12. Has a horse ever neighed at you before? No.

13. How much do you weigh? I’m not exactly sure, but I am definitely underweight. 

14. Do you ever wear a beret? No.

15. When’s the last time you’ve been to a buffet? Back in February. There was a breakfast buffet at Disneyland where you got to visit with various characters while you ate. It was cute.

16. Have you ever attended a cabaret? No.

17. Have you ever eaten at Swiss Chalet? No. Never even heard of it.

18. Do you know how to crochet? How about doing macrame? No.

19. Do you have a duvet on your bed? No.

20. What was the last thing that ricocheted off of a surface? My phone did.

21. What do you put on your ice cream sundaes? I’m good with just vanilla ice cream and strawberry syrup, but sometimes I’ll add chocolate syrup as well. Bananas and whip cream are also great additions. Wow, it’s been yearsss since I’ve had one but that sounds really good right now.

22. Have you ever woken up to the “Reveille” bugle wake-up call at summer camp? No. I’ve never been to summer camp.

23. What is your favorite entrée to order at your favorite restaurant? My favorite restaurant is Wingstop and I always get the garlic parm and lemon pepper boneless wings.

24. Is crème brulee your favorite dessert? I don’t like actual creme brulee, but I like the creme brulee latte at Starbucks that they offer in the winter.

25. Do you know anyone who wears a toupee? I don’t think so.

26. Have you ever made a soufflé before? Was it good? Nope. I like the spinach and artichoke breakfast souffle from Panera, though.

27. Do you prefer ice cream or sorbet? Ice cream.

28. Do you know anyone named Renee, Jay, Clay, or Ray? I know someone whose middle name is Renee if that counts, and I also know a Jay and a Ray.

29. Have you ever had café au lait? Yes.

30. Have you ever gone to a restaurant called “Chez ______”? No.

31. Hey, how’s it going? It’s almost 730AM I should be going to sleep. My medicine I took a bit ago is making me feel a little nauseous, too, cause I took it on an empty stomach. That wouldn’t have been a problem if I just went to bed, but nooo. :/

32. When’s the last time you wore a lei? It’s been several years.

33. Did you obey your parents when you were younger? Yes.

34. Who do you want to hunt down like prey? No one.

35. Have you ever had whey before? No.

36. What message would you like to convey to someone right now? Nothing at the moment.

37. Whose survey did you take last? I don’t know who made it.

38. Have you ever been to a bay before? Yes.

39. Do you have a bae? “Or nah.” Ha, old Vine reference. Anyway, no, I do not.

40. What’s your favorite day of the week? They’re all the same to me, really, since I’m not in school nor do I have a job.

41. Have you ever had to read “The Cay”? Nope. That title doesn’t ring a bell.

42. Are you feeling okay? I’m feeling tired, hot, and kind of nauseous. 

43. Do you know anyone who is gay? Yeah, a few people.

44. Do you like the acting of Tina Fey? Sure.

45. Have you ever listened to The Fray? Yes, I like a few of their songs.

46. Do you have any frayed clothing? No.

47. Do you prefer bluebirds or bluejays? Bluebirds.

48. Is May your favorite month? No. I only like saying, “It’s gonna be May” haha. You know, the NSYNC/Justin Timberlake meme.

49. May I ask you some more questions? Sure.

50. Have you ever voted “nay” to anything before? What? Yeah. I was a board member for a club in college and there were things we voted on. 

51. Have you ever wanted to make someone pay for something that they did? I’m not a revengeful person.

52. Do you ever just lay around all day? That’s all I pretty much do everyday. 

53. Are you a happy little frickin’ ray of sunshine? No. I’m a little black raincloud. 

54. Is there something that you would like to say to someone? “There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know howwww.” 

55. When’s the last time that you were so excited that you exclaimed (or at least thought) “yay!” ? I said that the other night when my brother said he was making his bomb spaghetti. haha.

56. Have you ever felt like you’ve lost your way? I’ve been feeling that way for the past few years.

57. Do you ever wish that people would just go away? lol I’ve felt that way in some situations.

58. Have you heard an animal bray before? What animal was it? Yeah, a donkey.

59. What’s the last thing that you made out of clay? Nothing.

60. Are you starting to go gray? I’ve found a few here and there. D: It was like the minute I turned 30 I found my first one, ha.

61. Are you feeling okay right now? No. I still feel how I felt earlier when you asked how it was goin’. :/

62. Do you pray? How often? Yes, but not nearly as much as I ought to. 

63. What’s the best play you’ve seen before? The Phantom of the Opera.

64. What did you like to play with when you were younger? I was obsessed Barbies, I could play for hours. I also liked playing house and school.

65. Do you know how to sashay? “Sashay away.”

66. Would you like to slay dragons? Nah. I wouldn’t want to mess with a dragon.

67. Have you gotten your pets spayed? All my dogs were fixed/spayed. My doggo was spayed before we could take her home from the adoption shelter.

68. Have you ever begged someone to stay with you? Not begged, but I didn’t want them to leave.

69. Has the room ever started to sway before? I hateeee that feeling. 

70. When’s the last time you ate a meal on a tray? Uhhh. I don’t recall.

71. Do you know how to do math arrays? You’re speaking math so no. 

72. Have you ever experienced a delay of any sort? Yeah.

73. Do you have any tooth decay? No.

74. When’s the last time you wrote an essay? What was it about? Back when I was still in school, so it’s been 5 years now since the last time. 

75. When’s the last time you competed in a relay race? I participated in a few wheelchair race events when I was a kid.

76. Have you ever wondered how you could ever repay someone? Yes. I wish I could spoil and take care of my mom one day for everything she has done and continues to do for me. She deserves so much.

77. What did you do today? So far just Tumblr, surveys, and listening to ASMR.

78. Would you ever take in a stray animal? We don’t really have room for another pet, but I’d want to help in some way. Once we had a stray dog wander in our backyard and we took care of him until we were able to find him a good home. We also once had a cat who often went into our backyard and she ended up having kittens, so we cared for them and found them all homes, including the mama.

79. What’s the last cleaning spray that you’ve used? Lysol disinfectant spray.

80. When’s the last time you splayed your fingers? I’ll do it right now. 

81. Has your airway ever been blocked before? Yes. Such a scary, traumatizing experience. It’s why I can’t take pills now at all unless I can crush them.

82. Has anyone ever led you astray? In some ways.

83. When it’s hot out, do you sleep with blankets anyways? Noooo. 

84. Have you ever felt betrayed? Yep. Not a nice feeling.

85. When’s the last time you listened to a DJ? My cousin’s quince a few years ago.

86. What’s the last unfortunate thing that happened, to your dismay? This pandemic.

87. When is payday? The 1st of the month (disability). 

88. Do good moments or bad moments replay through your mind more often? My mind likes to dwell on all the bad stuff instead. 

89. Do you prepay for anything? I typically like to pay all my bills at the same time each month instead of waiting until the day each of them are due.

90. Have you ever walked on a runway before? No.

91. Do you know a runaway? No.

92. Have you ever ridden the subway before? How about driven on the skyway? Nope.

93. Have you ever used an ashtray before? No.

94.How do you feel about public displays of affection? I don’t mind a little bit, like a quick kiss, hand holding, arms around each other, or a hug. 

95. Where would you like to go for a getaway? I wish I could rent a beach house and have my own private beach area.

96. Do you do any gateway drugs?  Some say weed is a gateway drug, but I personally never had any interest in try anything beyond that.

97. Have you ever felt like someone wasn’t meeting you halfway? Yes.

98. What were you doing at midday? I’ll be sleeping.

99. Have you ever stopped midway through a survey before?  Yeah, I did that with this one. I started it last night, but got too tired to finish it.

100. What’s your favorite holiday? Christmas.

101. Do you like to drive on the highway/thruway? I don’t drive, but yeah I prefer taking the highway over driving through town and hitting all the red lights.

102. Have you ever put something on layaway before? I haven’t, personally, but I’ve gone shopping with my mom and added stuff of my own along with her’s that she put on layaway.

103. Have you ever been cornered in an alleyway? No.

104. When is your birthday? July 28th. 

105. Do you know anyone who was a castaway? No.

106. How long is your workday? I don’t have a job.

107. What do you typically do on the weekdays? I do the same things everyday.

108. Is there a walkway or a pathway to your front door? Yeah.

109. What do you want to be someday? A functioning adult.

110. What is something that you do everyday? Drink coffee.

111. Do you park in your driveway? Do you even have a driveway? I don’t have a car, but yeah my house has a driveway that my parent’s use for their cars.

112. Have you ever won a giveaway? Yes.

113. How important is foreplay? I wouldn’t know.

114. Hooray! You’ve made it to the end! What are you going to do now? Eat my ramen. I was waiting for it to cool a bit.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[whipplefilter]

Write something about Sarge and tiny cupcakes plz

Tiny cupcakes, comin’ right up!

fic: Biscuits Over Glory

Lightning brings them.

The cupcakes are part of an avalanche of gifts from his fans, too many of which are perishable. Lightning had, at some point, made the mistake of encouraging a fan’s passion for baking, and she’d taken it very much to heart. And of course, others had soon followed suit.

The cupcakes are from a car named Jose Luis. The card claims they’ve been baked SPECIAL FOR MY HERO, LIGHTNING MCQUEEN.

“They’re for you,” says Sarge.

“Aaaand now they’re for you!” Lightning nudges the tray of cupcakes closer. He sounds a little desperate. There is, after all, a pecking order, and that order is generally Mater, and then Mater. But it seems that even Mater has limits, and his junkyard is at capacity–filled with all manner of 95-emblazoned crafts and cookies, some pristine and others deconstructed.

“You should have them,” Sarge insists, out of respect for Jose Luis.

Lightning grimaces. “That’s not– It’s just not physically possible. Sarge, I can’t. Sarge, please.”

His gaze darts quickly to the cupcakes and then to the canvas wall of Sarge’s tent. He follows the pattern of the weave, fiddling the camber of his tire–warp, weft, warp, weft.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate them. I do. I wouldn’t want to give them to you if I didn’t,” he says. He’s years away from who he’d been the night he came to Radiator Springs, but he’s still self-conscious about perceived ingratitude.

“I wasn’t sure what your favorite flavor was, but I thought– There’s so many of them, and they’re so tiny, and maybe you’d find some you liked. Like those chocolate boxes, you know? The ones that–” Lightning goes on.

And on, and on.

Sarge thinks Lightning’s trying a little too hard to prove he’d thought this through, but it’s an admirable sentiment. As Lightning goes on (and on), Sarge loses himself for a moment to a rainy day many decades past. Grouped muddy and musty under a corrugated garage, drinking oil out of ration cans and waiting for the mail to come via floatplane. Jenkins being the only Jeep to receive mail–a tin of biscuits, sweet with rationed sugar, from his sister. He’d shared with the whole platoon.

Sarge accepts the cupcakes. Lightning thanks him profusely. Moments later, Sarge can hear Lightning hailing Flo across the street.

(“HEY FLO! HAVE YOU EVER WOKEN UP AND JUST THOUGHT, WOW, WHAT A DAY IT WOULD BE IF I HAD A JAR OF HOMEMADE COFFEE CHILE BRISKET RUB?”)

Lightning’s right about the cupcakes. There are very many of them, and they are very tiny, and each of them is a different flavor. Sarge is suspicious at first, because lately desserts have all been getting tiny in order to get cute, and Sarge does not believe that one’s size should determine one’s adorability. But “Luscious Chocolate,” “Coconut Creme Brulee,” and “Pumpkin Carrot Chaos” are hard to pass up.

He samples the Carrot Chaos. Then the Vanilla Bean, as a palate cleanser. Then both Luscious Chocolate and Coconut Creme Brulee at once–a sumptuous amalgamation of flavors. It’s the mixing and matching he loves best, Sarge is quick to discover.

Before the day is out, Sarge has eaten all of the cupcakes, and when they are gone, his mouth tastes sour without them. He keeps the tray in his tent for the night. Normally, he’d dispose of such things immediately, but for some reason he wants it to stay.

And by the light of the moon, Sarge composes a letter to Jose Luis. Thank you for the cupcakes, it begins.

(In 1943, Sarge and thirteen other Jeeps scrounge for paper to write their note to Jenkins’ sister. But the platoon finds itself rather at a loss for words, so Sarge writes them all. He writes fourteen letters, one page each, about the Jenkins biscuits. He binds them together with greased cord and wishes them well, all the way across the ocean once more.)

Jose Luis’s letter only needs to make it to Yuma.

–

Some months later, the Piston Cup season is winding down (or winding up, as it were–championship race imminent), and Sarge and the rest of the town are crowded into Lightning’s pit area. Several of today’s VIP fans gave been granted pit passes, too, and have come to wander until the racers get called to the track. Among them is Jose Luis.

“Mr. Lightning,” says Jose Luis to Lightning, tears threatening to fall and then making good on their promise. “That letter you wrote me, the things you said about my tiny cupcakes–! I’ve never been so happy in my life! Thank you!” he wails. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Lightning’s eyes widen. Almost immediately, he pulls back to glance at Sarge (so he did remember, then. he knew exactly which cupcakes were Jose Luis’s). He parrots Jose Luis’s thank-yous back at him.

When the fans are gone from pit row and the loudspeakers are clamoring for the start of driver introductions, Lightning stammers, “Sarge, I’m sorry I didn’t tell him– I wasn’t sure if– I know it must’ve been your letter, but–”

Sarge rolls his eyes. “Pull it together, soldier. It doesn’t matter.”

He says, solemnly, “We don’t do it for the glory.”

–

(Fourteen Jeeps, cold and rusting in the trenches. Bellies full of biscuits.)

–

Sarge and the rest of Radiator Springs spend race night in California, while Mack and Lightning and Guido and Luigi push east into the fray of preparation for the next race. Meanwhile, Radiator Springs will return to Radiator Springs; and in a week, Radiator Springs will head out east, too.

When Sarge arrives back home for the interim, there are thirty-six tiny cupcakes stacked outside his door. Jose Luis has appended an ornate note describing each new flavor in detail. Appended to that note is a second, rushed and sloppy note. It reads:

Do you do it for the cupcakes?

;P

LMQ

[thereen]

Dream Journal: The Invisible Train, Ru Paul, and the Dream Girl

I've decided this is a thing I'm gonna do now. I love telling stories, and my dreams are so random. Forgive me if things are fuzzy.

It was a cold and snowy winter. The hills were curved and pure white, as if seeking warmth under their blankets of snow. I don't know how I was so warm in my burgundy shorts and this really cool (literally) shirt that my dear friend Jessica, a very talented artist I must say, made me: a sleeveless bordering on sheer t-shirt dyed midnight blue with a burgundy-dyed patch in the middle inscribed with the word "do." When she was making these shirts, Jessica asked me to pick a two letter word to put on it. I chose "do" because I wanted it to be a reminder to not give up on dreams, but also to put them into action; to DO everything I dream of doing.

For those of you who do not know me well, and for those of you who do, too, I grew up surrounded by women: my mother of course, Grandma, who was like a second mother to us while Mom went to college and worked styling hair, our two caretakers who were two sisters from Mexico that had been working with my grandparents since before we were even born, my aunts and their friends, who were always at my grandparents' or babysat us, and my five beautiful sisters. One, my sister from my father's first marriage, moved away when I was very little, which made me so sad, but I still have very vivid memories of her with me during my early childhood. We reconnected again when I was 18 and I met my first brother-in-law and my first nephew and nieces. I digress, though.

The reason for that whole spiel was to explain an aspect of this dreamy winter outing: I was the only male in a huge group of women. I didn't think anything of it though, because of my upbringing I'm actually more comfortable around women than men. There was a lodge, but no skiers, a pond, but it had not quite frozen over, and a railroad that hugged each hill. Have I ever mentioned I love hugs? Anyway.

A domineering yet kind woman was our guide, much like a camp counselor. She would lead us everywhere we needed to be and was not pleased if anyone didn't listen to her or strayed from the group. I, ever the daydreamer, would often admire the setting, gazing at the ground completely covered by snow, something I'm still not very used to, and watching the sun peeking through the thick clouds. The birds in the sky sang a beautiful song and soared through the air as I wondered how they were so comfortable with cold air rushing all around them, but then when I thought about it, I remembered I was wearing summer clothing and felt no coldness. The wind would blew, and I felt like a bird, one still learning to fly.

Our guide yelled at me and told me to join the group, and I did as the girls laughed, not in a mean way, but more like they thought it was funny that my daydreaming was interrupted and I was quite startled. We were told to stand on the railroad so we could get to our next destination. "Take a seat and buckle in," said our guide. We were very confused, but she insisted. Everyone looked at one another, wondering if this was some kind of joke or if we were missing something. I decided to pretend to sit, just to appease the guide, thinking this was going to be really tough on my glutes. Just as I thought that, I settled into a very comfortable seat. I was stunned by what was happening as was everyone around me. Everyone buckled in and the walls appeared, followed by the floor, then the ceiling. My smile was so wide, I could feel it. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought to myself, "Magic. It's real."

Off we went, over, around, and even through the hills. The ride seemed to take forever, but I didn't mind it one bit. Not only was the scenery of this winter wonderland beautiful, but I was sitting in a train that appeared out of thin air. When does this ever happen? I needed to soak it in as much as possible.

We arrived at the lodge, which was packed with families. Children were playing in the snow while adults conversed and sipped on coffee. Maybe it was hot chocolate though. That's what I drink most of the time so I can look trendy and cool at a coffee shop, having never really been a coffee drinker unless I really need to wake up, in which case I'll have a white chocolate mocha since it reminds me of hot chocolate.

We all joined the line of people trying to get into the lodge. Through the windows I could see a bakery. Bakers worked diligently getting those pies out and setting them on tables. Apparently, dessert was on the house. Dessert was also the only thing on the menu. I could see creme brulee topped with fresh berries, strawberry shortcake, lemon meringue pie, strawberry cheesecake, tiramisu, an assortment of cakes with LOTS of frosting, donuts, cookies...I could go on and on. When we got inside there was no room to sit, so we sat on the floor. I suddenly began to feel very shy. My introverted self started showing his face and I suddenly had a hard time looking people in the eye. I looked around instead, admiring the very detailed wooden architecture of the inside of the lodge. Suddenly I heard a huge commotion and people were smiling and excited about something. A rather large group of people walked into the room where we sat, surrounding one person. Phones came out, Snapchat and Instagram were on everyone's screens. Emerging from the center of this group came Ru Paul. I smiled as well thinking, "wow, I just saw a post by Butch Walker with Ru Paul!" Ru was not in drag, but was wearing a really nice suit and his head glistened, reflecting the lights suspended from the high ceilings of the lodge. He was looking around, walking up to people and speaking to them. I noticed that whoever he spoke to got very excited and was directed to get into a line outside. Then Ru came up to me. "Hi! What's your name," he asked as he extended his hand to shake mine. "Rene," I said. "Beautiful name! Very French! Are you French," he asked. I replied, "About nineteen percent according to my Ancestry DNA test." Ru laughed and asked about my other percentages and we talked about it for a bit. I thought it was very nice of him to take interest. Then he said, "You have very expressive eyes. Do you mind if we glam them up and put makeup on your face? We want to take pictures." I didn't even hesitate. "Sure," I said with a smile, hiding how nervous I was, but also how excited I was. Ru directed me to the line the people selected were going to, and I joined it. I was the only guy once again. Then a really pretty girl complimented my shirt. I went into a daze looking at her. You would almost expect "Dream Weaver" by Gary Wright to start playing like it did for Wayne when he saw Cassandra in "Wayne's World." I came to, blushed, and thanked her. She asked where I got the shirt and I told her the story of how it came to be, nervous as I am around any girl I find attractive. "You're shaking," she said with a giggle. "Are you ok?" I blushed again and said "Yes. It's just cold and I'm wearing summer clothes." She laughed again and said, "Yeah I had been watching you for a while and was wondering if you were cold." As you may recall, I was feeling no cold at all, but I wasn't going to be an idiot and admit she was making me sh-sh-shake. But also, this girl had been looking at... me?? "Calm down and be cool, Reen," I thought to myself. I extended my hand. "I'm Rene, my friends call me Reenie. Reen for short." She extended her hand, "I'm..."

I woke up. 😣

I hope you enjoyed my first Dream Journal entry. Have a great Fourth of July!

[underthemoonlightofficial]

Chapter 6

Summary: Saint is fascinated with the circus. When he receives a VIP circus ticket for Christmas, he couldn’t be happier. This ticket leads to a series of events, some good, some bad. Soon Saint finds his life spiraling out of control. When he gets his heart ripped out, he thinks it’s the end of the line for him. This book is the story of a broken man trying to put the pieces of his life back together. 

Masterlist

I groaned as I sat up in bed. My clock read 6:30. I had gotten three hours of sleep. I looked over to see that Dallon was still sound asleep. Lucky. His boss was giving him the day off. 

 As soon as I got to work I made myself a peppermint mocha with three extra shots of espresso. Katy was doing the same. "How much did you get?" She asked. "Three hours of sleep. You?" I replied, rubbing my eyes. 

"Lucky. I got one and a half. My roommates wanted to throw a party and we had to wait for everyone to leave and clean up before we could sleep." 

"Wow. That's the worst." Matt came up to us. 

"That's why I don't do anything on New Year's. I stayed at home with my roommates. We watched the ball drop and then went straight to sleep." A costumer came in and we scrambled to get to work. 

"What can I get you?" I asked the girl. She was college aged, likely around Matt's age and had bright blue hair. 

"French vanilla frappuccino with an extra shot of espresso please. Grande." I nodded. 

"$5.75 please. Also, I love your hair." 

"Aw thanks!" She paid and went to wait for Katy to make her drink. I looked over at the register next to me where Matt was gazing at her. I smiled. "Hey Katy, can you come help me with this?" I asked, leaving Matt to have to finish making the girl's drink. "Hmm?" She asked. 

"Matt was checking out Ms.Blue. Thought I'd help him out." I whispered. 

"Ah, " she then said louder, "then you press that, and you're done!" 

"Thanks Katy!" Matt came up to us and Katy went back to making drinks. 

"I got that girl's number!” Matt said. I laughed. "What's funny?" 

 "Oh nothing. Just that I didn't need Katy's help but pretended I did so you could go talk to her." His cheeks reddened. 

"Was I that obvious?" 

A few hours later when I was making drinks I got an order for a white chocolate mocha. I smiled- it was Laurey's favorite drink. Once it was done I checked the name- it WAS Laurey's! I went over to the waiting area and was greeted by her smiling face. "Hi!" 

"Hey!" We kissed. "Happy New Year!" She said. 

"Happy New Year to you too," I replied. I handed her her drink. "I have to get back to work, but I'll call you once I'm off, OK?? We said our goodbyes and I went to work at the register, switching tasks with Matt. 

"Who was that?" Katy asked. 

"Laurey, my almost fiance." 

"Uh, so what does that mean?" 

"She's my girlfriend of five years, but I plan on proposing soon." 

"That's so awesome! I'm so happy for you!" 

"Thanks. Haven't you seen her before though? I've been working here for a year and she comes by every so often." 

"Yeah, but I keep forgetting to ask you." 

"Ah." We got back to work. Katy had a boyfriend a few months ago, he would stop by often to say hi and get a drink. They broke up, though, and Katy was really sad for a the few weeks following. Thankfully she's feeling much better now. 

----------

I got home and sighed, putting my bag down. I heard Dallon in the kitchen and went to join him. "Hey Dall. What're you making?" 

"Oh hey, Saint. Just making some dinner and stuff." 

"This early?" 

"Yeah. I'm making more than one thing so it's going to take me a little while." 

"OK. I'm going to go take a nap. I only got three hours of sleep; I'm exhausted." 

"Oh jeez. You go do that." I went into our room and changed into sweatpants and a t shirt. Laying down I let myself melt into the mattress. Closing my eyes, I feel asleep. 

Some time later I woke up. I stretched and put on a sweatshirt. My clock read 6:30. That was two extra hours of sleep. I was still tired, though. Just not as much. I walked out to see my friends on the couch sipping hot chocolate. 

"The sleeping beauty has awaken," Steve joked. I rolled my eyes. 

"There's a cup of hot cocoa in the kitchen for you. It may not be hot still. You should probably put it in the microwave for a few seconds," Dallon said. I found the mug; he was right. I put it in the microwave, plopped in a few marshmallows, and joined my friends on the couch. 

"Thanks Dall." 

"No problem." Steve and Dallon both had the day off, so I asked, "What did you guys get up to today?" 

"We both woke up pretty late today and went to IHOP for brunch," Steve replied. 

"Then we went to Kroger to pick up some stuff and came back. A few hours later I began to cook and Steve went on a bike ride in the park," Dallon added. 

"Meanwhile me and Saint are deeply suffering at work without sleep," Moon said 

"Yeah. I had to make myself a super coffee with several shots of espresso just to be able to stay awake," I told them. 

"Jeez." 

"So how was work, Moon? Other then the part where you wanted nothing more then to sleep for four months," Steve asked. 

"Eh. It was OK. My co-workers were dead too so we were able to suffer together. Other then that nothing happened." 

"You guys hungry?" Dallon asked as a timer beeped. We all nodded. "Great. Because dinner is ready." We went into the kitchen, Dallon pulled a tray out of the oven. He had made garlic bread, steak, ceaser salad, and creme brulee. 

"Wow. Somebody went fancy," Steve marveled. We piled food onto our plates and sat down. I took my first bite. 

"Oh my GOD this is so good!" Moon said after tasting the food.

"It is," Steve agreed. I nodded. 

"Thanks guys!" Once we were done Moon and I made popcorn and more hot chocolate. We all piled onto the couch, and watched Mean Girls. Half way through I accidentally fell asleep against Steve. He gently shook me awake a bit later. 

"Saint, you should probably sleep in your bed now. The movie's over." 

“Thanks, Steve.” I got up and went into Dallon and I's room, then went back to sleep. 

---------- 

After work I joined Moon at the gym. Dallon wouldn't be here for half an hour, so we got started but took long and frequent breaks. Some time later, Dallon paid for his membership and joined us. 

 "Hey guys. Sorry for holding you up." 

"It's fine. And you didn't delay us, don't worry," I replied. 

"Where should I start?" He asked, looking at Moon who had an evil grin. She made us do 45 minutes of strength exercise followed by 20 minutes of cardio. I was used to it, but Dallon, however, was practically dead 30 minutes in. Poor guy. 

Moon let him rest after each set, but if you rest for too long your heart rate goes down and you have to warm up all over again or something. Moon told me that a while back. Once we were done, he collapsed on a bench, breathing heavily. I pat his shoulder sympathetically and handed him his water 

"Oh- my- god-" he wheezed. "I'm- so- exhausted." 

"Sorry about that. Now that I know what level you're at I'll go a little bit slower. Not by much, though. You did pretty great,” Moon replied.

"I don't feel great." We ended up ordering a nice cheesy pizza that night.