#both need some editing but here are rough draft pieces

[theninjazebra]

Hi! I saw your commissions post and I was wondering if you have any more info anywhere? I don't want to dm you and potentially waste your time just to get info. Do you ship physical art pieces or are you just doing digital? What's the price range? What are you offering? Thank you!

Totally fair - last night's post was a bit impulsive.

contact me via emma.weakley@gmail.com or dm here. I reply pretty fast (timezone allowing)

Generally NZD$50 - $400, depending on the size and detail.

(Do check the exchange rate though - NZD$50 is USD $28 today for example.)

$50 gets you essentially a sketch/rough drawing, with or without colour. $400 will give you art you could use as a published book cover. I stopped using commission sheets just because I found it wasn't fair to either party. Every piece is unique and needs a proper price that works to the budget.

I can do physical art, but shipping from Aotearoa/New Zealand is a fucker, especially to the US. So I recommend digital/scanned drawings purely because the shipping is so dear and art is so easily damaged. If a physical painting or drawing is important to you though I can make it work, it's just going to cost a bit.

I'll draw most things, but as in all things retain the right to walk away if I'm not comfortable with the commission or how you're talking to me. I don't expect money until you're happy with the finished product, so nothing is on the line for the client.

the process is - email me the details, I can give you a proper quote for what you're after. I'll send some drafts, when you're happy with that I'll do the bulk of the actual drawing or painting, then we do some edits. When you're happy I send a paypal invoice for the quoted price.

The only time I charge extra is when either the job has grown in scope (say you start looking for a single pet portrait, and half way through drafting you want say, 4 dogs and 2 cats all in the same painting) or after the bulk of the work is done you want changes that would essentially mean starting from scratch. This mostly just means check the drafts carefully and I'll warn if what you're asking for will mean starting again.

Commissioning an artist can be intimidating, but I go out of my way to ensure we're both protected as much as possible. And if in doubt - ask :)

previous commissions (and gifts) (now that I'm on my computer and not phone) -

[thelongestway]

Very-very tired for many reasons, but I made it with a very rough draft of the next chapter, ahaha. :P (Do not write near 4000 words in one sitting and stop on a tricky moment, that will block you!)

Very rough because I am very sleepy, will see about editing etc tomorrow.

Edit: Well, it took two days, but I basically added another half-chapter here in the beginning, and will need to quit fiddling with this by now - I'm growing pretty blind to the damn thing! I think I'll leave this one for the edits afterwards and move on.

Chapter 30: Preparations

Preparing for the war game was sort of like preparing for the hacker's game, except I wouldn't have ART with me, and I didn't have the option of just waiting out the opposition until they gave up. (Though letting the humans wear themselves out and then just walking past them would probably have made for a really effective tactic. But we were on a time limit.)

Instead, I waited for the humans to finish their preparations and answered the occasional polite tap from Dandelion, who was helping Aspen weave my outputs into their simulation system and wanted me to test if something was working or not. (Dandelion probably didn't need to help them. She did anyway.)

Aspen was standing next to me, hands folded on their chest, looking at the entrance to their old body and lost in thought. When they noticed my drone pausing next to them, they looked up and gave it a quizzical glance.

"Is everyone in your family out of the simulation area?" I asked.

"Yes, all out safely. Which wasn't hard--it's not like anyone's home much during a Meet anyway. But we'll need to make sure people aren't underfoot during the actual transfer, so this is good practice."

"Yeah. A hostage situation is the last thing this scenario needs."

They nodded. "It's a lot harder for four people to attack a massive gathering watched over by a station than just take someone isolated in their quarters. We can't link Note in to keep track of everyone with main systems down. But they can keep watch over a specific area."

We waited. I stood still (there weren't any chairs in the access corridor we were in), and Aspen paced--two steps forward, two steps back. Then they stopped in front of the old Courageous' wall and leaned back on it, frowning and looking up. Like they were talking to themselves.

"It sucks, though," they finally said, familiar bitterness in their voice. "This entire thing. I wish this wasn't how I had to say goodbye to them."

"What do you mean? Your cluster isn't coming with you?"

"They can't come. You'd be surprised how small of a cutting and stimulus you need to regrow the same synnerve patterns. I know my cluster too well. Having them with me would defeat the entire point of trying to retrain me on a whole new synnerve system."

I had a brief mental image of ART having to leave its humans behind if it wanted to be a station. (For some reason. I backburnered the thought too quickly to figure out exactly what reason.)

"How long is that going to take?"

"It's anyone's guess at this point. But we're looking at months or years. Maybe decades," they looked away, chewing on their lip. I wasn't monitoring their performance reliability or emotional instability or whatever, but I could bet it took a hit.

Stop borrowing grief from the future, Aspen, Dandelion said matter-of-factly, sending us her latest piece of code, designed to register fake outputs from my energy weapons.

"That's my entire job," they grumbled as they double-checked the code and implemented it on their end.

Dandelion retorted: No, your entire job right now is to get through the transfer intact. The rest is for others to handle.

Aspen snorted quietly, but I could see them smiling again as they refocused on their work. (They were also working on their own code, which Dandelion checked.) Both ships didn't talk much about it. They just sent each other snippets, picking up where the other left off seamlessly.

(Seeing them work together like that gave me a weird emotion. I backburnered it before I accidentally started bothering Aspen about it.)

Instead, I implemented my part, then tapped Dandelion's feed. Threat assessment on the transfer? Not on the security end, on the medical end.

It's complicated, she replied. Aspen being the first experimental node ship has made their synnerve system very convoluted, and trying to prune it without damaging them isn't an easy task. We're probably not going to lose them, but quality of life outcomes are variable.

Are you worried?

Dandelion sent me a snapshot of her performance reliability. It was hovering at the 95% mark.

No, she said. But I will be busy during the transfer, Note will have their processes full with two stations' worth of critical operations and all of the humans, and Blaze has space-side monitoring. With respect to your part of the job, the security teams will have to pull through on their own.

Then we'd better start practicing, I said.

She gave me a grateful tap, neatly caught the piece of code Aspen sent back to her, and implemented it.

---

Nike's and Aspen's humans were better at this than I thought humans who only had tactical simulation experience would be. They managed to get a few hits on me in the first scenario, where I infiltrated the Courageous as quietly as possible, and in the second scenario, where I imitated standard corporate tactics, they actually took me down. But that was after I killed 27 out of 36 human defenders, which was not what they were expecting either. Hiram and Basil (Nike's and Aspen's respective security chiefs, and jointly in charge of the simulation and upcoming defense) looked pretty rattled afterwards, but they really were a lot like my Preservation humans, which meant that despite being rattled, they immediately began updating their plans for the defense.

Their plans didn't involve me.

Tell them you're available for a contract, ART said second thing after it finally tapped my feed.

(First thing it did was send me a record of the ships' discussions, with commentary. It was weird. Looking at Dandelion, Aspen and Note in comparison to Nike and Blaze was sort of like looking at my Preservation humans in comparison to other Preservation humans, the ones who'd never encountered the Rim directly before. Except they were all ships like ART.)

They know that.

ART sent me one of its versions of the eyeroll emoji. (This one had five eyes).

I have had ample time to observe Aspen's humans. They will not engage a member of another node ship's crew of their own initiative.

It would be pretty rude to do that, yeah, Aspen said somewhere to my side, and I nearly jumped. I knew they hadn't just snuck up on me to sit on an overturned crate which their humans had used as part of a barricade, leaning forward a little, but try telling my fucking organics that! But I can inform them myself, provided you're interested?

Hiram and Basil both saw my face change and looked where my drones went. (Right now they looked like they were hovering over a random crate.)

"I'm just talking to Aspen," I said, "You can keep asking questions."

"You can do that at the same time?" Hiram said, looking surprised.

"And watch media. And code. And fight. And other things, too." I executed a little complicated maneuver with my drones at the same time as I tapped their handheld communicators.

To Aspen, I said: I can tell them. We're already talking anyway. Also, you didn't answer me during the referee call: why the fuck do you have carbon monoxide in your fucking ventilation systems?

Because the Courageous did, which was really fucking creepy. I mean, any ship AI could kill people if it wanted, but this wasn't ART's repurposed pathfinders. Carbon monoxide wired into the ventilation was a weapon that couldn't be used for anything except killing people.

Early corporate failsafe, Aspen said, shrugging. Antarctica wanted a way to kill the colonists if their plans didn't pan out. We repurposed the infrastructure later, but it was easy enough to put the weapons back now that we need them.

And your family doesn't mind?

Aspen's face twisted, and they folded their hands, looking guarded. They suggested it.

"Hell and high water," Hiram said, exchanging looks with Basil. "Nike said you were a node ship in human form, but I don't think I realized until now just how true that was."

"Even when I kicked your asses?"

"We have no real combat experience," Basil said. "You do. We expected to get our asses kicked at least a little, just not quite so thoroughly."

"You have better threat assessments than your ships," I said, and ART sent me a clip of Nike's outraged Hey! in the feed.

(To my left, Aspen gave a short laugh and said, Nobody who gets far enough to be a node ship ever has good threat assessments.)

(I agreed.)

"Let's hope they've improved enough to help us against our hostiles. They may not be little nodes, but they do have combat experience," Hiram said. "Thank you for the games, SecUnit. We'll make good use of the lessons."

He offered me a hand again.

I said, "I don't touch people unless I need to rescue them."

"Ah. I apologize," Hiram withdrew his hand. "Then thank you again, and do not let us keep you."

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"I'm available for further collaboration. And for the day of the transfer."

Basil and Hiram exchanged looks. Basil said, "Really? You're not busy with your clusters?" (Ke sounded surprised. Not in a "fuck off" way, but genuinely surprised.)

"Yes, I'm part of ART's crew. No, that doesn't mean I don't want to help defend the station. My humans are all going to be here during the transfer. The earlier the hostiles are neutralized, the safer they'll be."

"Well, then. Welcome on board, SecUnit," Hiram said, nodding, and his tone suddenly became a lot less formal. "We've got plans to discuss. D'you eat?"

"No."

"Mind if we do?"

"No."

"Then c'mon," Hiram turned and waved for me to follow him. "The Courageous cluster promised us dinner. Let's go get what food they left for us, settle into a spot and have ourselves a chat."

After about an hour of conversation in one of the Courageous' lounges and some literal napkin planning (with Aspen, Nike and ART providing occasional commentary through the speakers), I finally had a role in the Trellians' plan.

Both Nike and Aspen's security team agreed that the hostiles must want one of the hearts. ("Makes no sense otherwise," Tabby--Nike's hacker who'd killed her team by shutting down my grenade drone--said, "Caldera figured out the ships' intelligence pretty early, it figures they'd want in on it. And without the heart, the old Courageous is a bunch of scrap metal--no offense, Aspen!"

"None taken," Aspen said through their speakers. Their illusion spoke the words, too, and looked like they meant it.)

Note's security would be handling most of the civilians at the festival (where no one really expected any trouble, but Hiram sort of hoped the festival would keep civilians busy enough not to accidentally run into the corporate team), while Nike and Aspen's security would be handling the respective hearts. Hiram and Basil both thought there was also a chance that the Calderan team might go for Nike as the ship with newer neural architecture, and then the old Courageous was either a distraction or a mistake on the hostile's part. The old Courageous would still be empty, since Aspen's cluster had a role to play in the ceremony, same as Nike's cluster. Only the specialist cluster members would be doing the transfer, and they would be guarded at all times.

"If the target is Aspen, then we think the most probable moment of attack won't be on the Courageous' center, but at one of the corridor junctions, so the heart pod is already loaded and ready to move, and also close to Magma. That's the point we'll be monitoring the most heavily, and our teams will also be moving along with the hearts," Basil said. "But just in case, we've transferred most of the sensitive data off the old Courageous' systems. If Caldera miscalculates, all they will find is an empty old ship."

This didn't look too bad. Getting their house hit would suck for Aspen's family, but nobody would be dead.

Hiram said, "Considering your sheer speed and firepower, SecUnit, we want you to be our first response team if we've misread Caldera and they wind up hitting something we haven't considered--or the reinforcements to any team to make enemy contact. We'd like you to do as much monitoring as you can, and if a priority threat makes itself known, to go in and neutralize it. To that end, I think we'd be stationing you near the civilans, with Note. That's easy access to the Courageous' main body, which can work as a tunnel through half the station and is one of the priority targets, and only slightly harder access to Nike's new station."

"Who do I respond to?"

"Not respond, coordinate," Basil said, "You're basically Perihelion's chief of security, right? We'll treat you as one. You have autonomy in your sphere, but if one of us two--plus Note's chief--sends you a stand down code, you do. Conversely, you can send us a stand down code, and we'll do that, too."

"Or at least reassess. No guarantee that anyone will be be standing down until the end of the situation, but it will give the others a heads-up something isn't right," Hiram added. "Sound like a plan?"

ART's chief of security. I liked that. (I wondered what Senior Indah would have thought of me being treated like a security chief.)

"Yeah." I said. "Let's do that."

[givemethelovebitxx]

250527 10:00 AM~ so i decided to start a blog!! not for an audience, really.. it's for future olivia to reflect on. i'm currenty sat in starbucks writing my rough draft for my first post. the chaotic yelling of names and chatter makes me feel more productive and motivated.

i've always loved journaling but i wanted to digitalize my interest in a way that will last. truthfully, i've been meaning to do this for years. i just wasn't sure where i should begin? i'm using tumblr as my host since i don't want to financially commit to something i might be too lazy to continue. it's funny though, this tumblr is my old simblr account.

my first posts dated back to over a decade ago when i lived vicariously through my pixel people. these days, i don't find the time or motivation. i was on here religiously uploading files for download from my own game and reblogging custom content that i was obsessed with. i even made memes from screenshots from my gameplay with the corniest captions. those were some of the first posts i deleted before deciding to clear everything lol

my drink just arrived! it's my first time trying out their pink drink despite all it's hype. i'm trying to get something different everytime i come here until i burn through my giftcards. i also grabbed a package of madeleine cakes. they were one of my favorite treats growing up and i always find myself feeling intense nostalgia with just one whiff. the drink - just alright. it's served in a real glass, which surprised me. it tastes similar to the dragonfruit refresher though. i probably won't order it again.

i have to leave in about an hour and a half. just enough time to write freely with no edits or filters. :) later today i'm getting two new tattoos! or technically it's three? i'm getting a small crescent moon on the left side of my neck and two twin tattoos on the backs of my elbows. on the left will read "love myself today", the right "let you go today". both of these are pieces i've wanted for years, i just didn't want to make the financial commitment. it's funny how something permanent can ease a temporary feeling of sadness. my last tattoo was only several days ago on the 23rd. that day and experience has now been shadowed by someone else so today is a day for reclamation.

~ pause break to text jp and megan. also, i've been eyeing the new samo ondoh summer collection. they keep dropping new colors that i love, especially the powder, but not in the size or styles i need. i'm determined to get a new bag before my next semester - one large enough to carry around my 16". i'm going to use my awardco to treat myself because if not now, when? lol ~

now back to the 23rd. i got this beautiful bow piece done on the inside of my right arm. it's been healing nicely despite it only being four days. afterwards, i went to hang out with the guy i had been talking to. then come saturday and i'm blocked everywhere. he was one of four people i regularly text: my mom, my boss, meghan, and him. now it's three :p at first, i thought it was bad reception from my job - my text following up about dinner the proceeding evening not going through. i pulled up instagram and it confirmed what i didn't want to believe.

i had spent the rest of the day with him after my tattoo until i had to go home because i had work the following day - the day he blocked me everywhere. we laughed, kissed, cuddled, fell asleep, and watched detroiters together. he told me that he liked me and that he was glad i had stayed over as long as i did. he even invited me to extend my stay and play poker with him and his friends but i couldn't because of work. would it have changed the end result had i stayed longer or would my feelings built up more for the same ending? unless i'm delusional, and maybe i am for putting this much thought into it, there were no tells or signs in that moment. so tell me why you ran from me?

when we were cuddling, i had this weird thought. maybe it's women's intuition lol but i imagined that the moment was too good to be true. i had a sinking feeling he would ghost me or change his mind. again, there were no tells - just my brain telling me to overthink. but it was right. how strange is that..

why do people say things they don't mean? especially when feelings get involved.. was it intentional? or just careless? it almost feels like it was on purpose. it hurts more than i expected. i've been ghosted before but it never registered. i usually don't let my feelings for people blossom quickly enough to miss someone when they check out. this time was different. maybe there was something about the way he kissed me. it made me feel better - like someone really liked me, really cared about me. its nice to feel wanted. it makes you forget the things you hate about yourself. now it's gone.

my last experience dating was when i had recently turned 19. it's something i don't talk about because it still gets me worked up. i thought i was the one in control but girls in my position never really are, not then. and definitely not by people who are that much older than them.

i've built walls and opted out of trying to date or pass my time with talking stages. just trying to dodge feelings from others before they grew out of control. i never want to mislead someone into falling for a version of me that i'm not ready to be. maybe it's a survival instinct now or maybe it's just me sabotaging anything that might get too close to my heart.

this time felt different so i let it slip through the cracks. i told myself that i wouldn't. now i'm left feeling a bit hollow and echoing with curiousity.. i just want to go back and try and mend whatever i broke. would i have been able to make it any better though? i told him i was being nervous. i guess i held important information from my past that could have salvaged things had i been more open. talking about it still brings tears to my eyes though. i'm not ready to open up and i don't think i should have to. i didn't mean to murder the moments we spent together. i'm telling myself i'm better off alone but i haven't felt the same since.

i've tried to meet new people but i've been cold. my heart is looking the other way. just waiting for a message that isn't coming. it's pathetic - i would fold immediately.

anyway, megan introduced me to the pattern. i've been checking it everyday. it's funny how i've never cared for astrology. i never thought the stars could define me or have anything to say. but this app??? it's unnervingly accurate to my life. you know how people say that if you say things outloud, advertisers will give you ads for it? that's how i feel about this app - it's eavesdropping on my thoughts!

every notification and update to my daily feed has felt like a mirror. especially when it talks about relationships in terms of idealizing new people and having a hard time letting go. it has also clocked me on my longing for a new career. it's been less than a month since using it but it's already called me out more times than i can count.

is this how it starts? you go from being a complete skeptic to blaming saturn entering aries for your moodswings. i hope i don't become that person but there's something alluring about letting the celestial band in the sky in. even just a little bit.

[onlycosmere]

Revision Strategies

LansManDragon: I'm an aspiring fantasy author myself, and have been finding the revision aspect of my writing to be quite difficult too. I often get a little lost in the weeds, I think, when trying to juggle all the moving pieces myself.

Do you have any tips for revision strategies for beginner authors? I find when I focus on revising plot, I end up with issues with my thematic vision. And when I fix that, I get characterisation problems rearing their heads. And when they're sorted, I get tone or atmosphere pipes bursting. It often starts to feel like a game of whack a mole, where I'm running around desperately plugging holes with duct tape.

I feel like I have a good mind for feeling my way towards the nexus of these interrelated factors, but once I find that point, the changes I have to make often leave me feeling wholly dissatisfied with one aspect of the story or another.

The whole process feels like a war of attrition against my enthusiasm for a story sometimes. I love to write, and have solid discipline with my word count goals. I feel like I'm proficient at identifying which parts of my story aren't working, and also don't have any issues with make even fairly drastic changes when needed.

I guess the revision aspect just feels a little mentally exhausting? Seeing that so many different people come together to help edit your works is both daunting and inspiring.

Is there any videos or guidance you could recommend? Any words of advice? I'd love to be able to figure out some way to revise properly and not feel burnt out on it.

Brandon Sanderson:  So, here's a few things to keep in mind.

First, I didn't start with this many people. I started with just myself, and trying to learn. I do have a few tips for beginners.

First is this: try, if you can, to give yourself some space to write something else between revisions. I find that for me, two drafts at a time is best. Rough draft, followed by a 2.0 revision immediately. From there, space--write something else, and give the book a rest.

The whack a mole you describe is the growing pains of becoming a better writer. It's actually a good sign, as you're aware of all of these things. I suggest viewing the revision process like carving a sculpture from a block of stone. Start with the big picture, the general shape.

When you approach a revision, try to identify the big problems--the character issues, the plot problems, the issues with theme and tone. Fix those first. Give the book to people, get notes, think about them. Do another revision on those.

That done, you can work on the medium level things. A chapter that feels rushed or slow. A problem with foreshadowing--too much or two little. Careful refinement.

Give the book a rest, then come back, read it again. Make any final tweaks to these things, then focus on prose. Refine the book again on a more granular level.

If you're getting good at identifying problems, and if you have good work ethic like you say, you'll be fine. Don't expect a given book to be fixed in one draft--but don't shoot for twenty, either. Do two. Get feedback. Do two. Get feedback. Refine, refine. Fix prose, and then let that be the end for that story--the best of your ability at this time.

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 4

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T (for now, might change, probably not)

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, more tags to come as the story develops

Word Count: ~1600

A/N: Here's chapter 4! If you'd like to be added to the tag list for this story, please let me know!

(Divider made by the insanely talented @theradioactivespidergwen!)

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41

Early the next afternoon, Ellison called you into his office.

You walked in. "What's up?"

Ellison leaned back in his chair. "I need to talk to you about your article."

Your brow furrowed. You had stayed up half the night working on it (while eating some of what was quite honestly the best tiramisu you had ever had) and had sent a rough draft to Ellison that morning after reading it over. "What about it?"

"Quite frankly, it sucks."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"It reads like you literally just transcribed the interview. There's no emotion to it."

"So, what, do you want it in another format, or…" You were hoping Ellison wasn't going to tell you to just forget about it or that he was reassigning the piece back to Kelsie, who was still out sick with food poisoning.

Ellison shook his head. "We need to switch gears. Instead of an interview, I want a full human-interest story." Ellison sat back up. "I want our readers to get to know Chef Murdock as both a chef and as a person. You got a bit of that in your interview, but I want more. Spend as much time with him as possible and do what you do best -- get him to open up to you. Find out what his interests are outside of cooking, how he develops his recipes, where his inspiration comes from. Give me personal details and anecdotes."

You nodded. Your second attempt at an interview had gone a lot smoother than your first -- you had found Chef Murdock had relaxed more the longer the two of you had talked, so you were pretty sure he wouldn't mind sitting down for a more in-depth interview. "Okay."

"Alright, that's it. Get a rough draft of your new article to me by next Wednesday -- that should be enough time to edit before we go to print the following Monday."

"Got it."

Ellison eyed you. "Don't make me regret that raise I agreed to."

You shook your head. "Don't worry, I won't."

You went back to your desk and eyed the clock. You had already been planning on stopping by Daredevil on your way home from work in order to drop Chef Murdock's dish back off to him and was just going to leave it with Karen at the host stand, but since you needed to talk with Chef Murdock anyway... 

You pulled out your phone and sent him a text. Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could come by the restaurant to talk with you for a minute before you open?

A few seconds later, your phone chimed. It's not a bother, and sure.

Okay, I'll be by in about 20 minutes.

Sounds good.

You grabbed your bag and Chef Murdock's dish and popped by Ellison's office again. "I'm leaving a bit early so I can go by Daredevil to talk to Chef Murdock."

Ellison nodded. "Okay, see you Monday."

You hurried towards Daredevil, sending Chef Murdock a text as you approached.

A minute later a man with shaggy blonde hair and a friendly face unlocked the door. "Hi, you must be the journalist from the Bulletin, right?"

You nodded and introduced yourself as you stepped inside.

The blond man smiled and stuck his hand out for you to shake. "Matt's signing for a delivery, but he'll be out in just a second. I'm Foggy Nelson, his business partner."

You took his offered hand. "Oh, yes, Chef Nelson. It's nice to meet you too."

Chef Nelson grinned. "So, I heard you were on the receiving end of Matt's apology tiramisu."

You huffed out a laugh. "Oh, uh, yeah, I guess he told you about that. Does he always apologize with tiramisu?"

"Only when he knows he really screwed up." Chef Nelson glanced towards the kitchen before looking back at you. "By the way, thanks for giving him another chance at an interview. Matt can be prickly but he's really a good guy underneath."

You smiled, thinking about how warm and open Chef Murdock had been the previous afternoon compared to your first meeting. "I'm beginning to see that."

"Sorry about that," Chef Murdock's voice said as he came out of the kitchen towards you.

You turned towards him. Today he was wearing a white t-shirt and black pants with his usual red glasses. It's unfair how damn hot he is , you thought to yourself.

You swallowed. "Hi, Chef Murdock."

"Hi," he replied pleasantly. "So what brings you by? Did you have some more questions for me?"

You nodded. "Yes, but I also came by to return your container to you and thank you again for the tiramisu."

Chef Murdock took the empty container with a grin. "I guess that means it wasn't poisoned, then?"

You huffed out a laugh even as your face heated. "I'm sorry about that."

Chef Murdock chuckled. "It's okay."

You shook your head. "In all honesty though I think that that was probably the best thing I've ever eaten. I'll definitely be placing some to-go orders for tiramisu after work."

Chef Murdock smiled. "It's not on the menu yet because I'm still perfecting it, but until then if you let me know in advance I'll be happy to make some for you."

"Matt makes his own ladyfingers from scratch," Chef Nelson chimed in. "That's the secret."

"Well, one of them." Chef Murdock grinned at you. "There's a few other secrets to my tiramisu that not even Foggy knows."

Chef Nelson chuckled. "And with that, I'm going to go get started on the dishes I do know the secrets to." 

He gave you a brief nod. "It was very nice meeting you."

"Same to you," you replied.

You waited until Chef Nelson had disappeared into the kitchen before turning back to Chef Murdock. "So about my article… I turned a draft of it into my editor this morning and he said it wasn't personal enough, so he wants me to expand it into a full human-interest story instead of just an interview."

Chef Murdock's brow furrowed. "Oh? What does that consist of?"

"Uh, well… usually with my human-interest pieces I spend time with the person I'm writing about, getting to know them over the course of several days, but since I don't want to take up too much of your time I'd probably just have some more interview questions for you, and if it would be possible I'd like to watch you work in the kitchen for a bit? It doesn't actually have to be during open hours or anything like that, and I'll even sign an NDA if you want me to promising that I won't reveal any of your recipes to anyone."

Chef Murdock pursed his lips as he thought. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah, that's okay."

You huffed out a breath. "Thank you so much. I'm free all weekend, so you can just text or call me and let me know whenever is convenient for you."

"Actually, how about we start tomorrow? Meet me here at, say, 8 AM?"

You nodded. "Okay, yeah, that sounds good."

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Thanks again for the tiramisu. It really was fantastic."

Chef Murdock smiled. "You're welcome."

"Okay. Bye."

You turned and walked back into the lobby so Karen could let you out, actually looking forward to seeing Chef Murdock the next morning.

Matt waited until you left then returned to the kitchen, where Foggy was slicing up cucumbers for the dinner salads.

Foggy paused in his prepping. "So… she seems nice."

Matt nodded. "Yeah, she is."

"Pretty, too."

Matt shook his head with a grin. "I wouldn't know."

Foggy chuckled. "Mmhmm. Sure you wouldn't, Matty. That's why you were totally flirting with her just now."

Matt's brow furrowed. "I wasn't flirting."

"I know your tells, Matty -- you like a girl, you cook for her." Foggy dropped his voice into an imitation of Matt's. "'Oh, I can totally make you tiramisu even though it's not on the menu, no problem'."

Matt shook his head. "She's writing an article about me -- of course I'm going to be nice and offer to make tiramisu for her again. Which reminds me, the editor at the Bulletin wants her to expand her interview into a human-interest story." 

"Oh hey, that's awesome, man. A full human-interest piece will be great publicity for the restaurant."

Matt nodded. "We're going to meet up tomorrow morning to discuss it."

"Couldn't wait to see her again, huh?"

Matt shook his head. "She wants to watch me cook, so I'm going to have her accompany me to the farmer's market then give her a small cooking demo here afterwards before we start prepping for tomorrow night's service."

"Ah okay, cool."

Matt turned his head towards the receiving door. "Josie's here with the wine order."

Foggy set his knife down as the doorbell rang. "I got it."

"Make sure she's got the Frangelico I added to this week's order, will ya?"

"Sure thing."

Matt sighed to himself as Foggy left to go receive their order. The truth was that he actually was looking forward to spending more time with you. You were kind, and funny, and endearing, and according to Foggy, 'pretty', which admittedly made Matt curious as to what you looked like. 

He shook his head. He needed to keep things strictly professional between the two of you. The last time he was interested in a journalist it almost cost him his career and he wasn't going to make that mistake again, no matter how much he was beginning to trust you.

[merge-conflict]

8 & 17 for the fic writer asks 🌟

sorry it took me so long to answer yours T-T something happened and now it's 4 days some time later. you know how it is. anyway thank you!! I did want to take some time to answer the second one properly.

questions here

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

tough question to answer because when do I ever leave anything I've written for more than a few months before feeling compelled to continue writing. I'm going to cheat slightly and say there are two things I'd love to continue:

One is the RP I did with @corpocyborg which I'm having trouble finding right now (why am I such a terrible tagger) where Valentine and Valerie did a gig together. It was just such a blast playing them off each other and they made a surprisingly great team. Hard to find a canon where they can both really shine but gosh. That was so much fun.

The second is also OC-related, the stuff I've written with Valentine and @another-corpo-rat 's Victoria Crane. Those two's dynamic is so funny I don't know what they are but it's toxic af. I wrote some smut about the two of them and now I've been thinking about what that meeting over coffee is like afterwards. (I've been watching a lot of killing eve)

Collabs are fun! I love getting the chance to reverse engineer what makes other people's OCs tick and then try to faithfully recreate them in a story.

17. talk about your writing and editing process

I think I answered this one once but I forget and I'm just going to wing it!

I'll be honest I haven't really figured out "plotting" in an advanced way, and am sticking within shouting distance of canon on the longfic, and have fleeting fits of reason which I don't plot longterm at all because it's kind of a cool-down mess-around kind of fic I add stuff to when it sounds fun.

I guess I'll start with considering the shape of what I'm writing –> what the boundaries are, if that makes sense? rough length, and I do mean *rough* like: <1k, 2-10k, nope we're going to have multiple chapters.

Then I take consider the chapter I want to write, as in: what do I want to accomplish? where do I need to go? taking for example indicators of compromise, my objectives are:

textually establish that Alex has a trained eye for detail and analysis

show the rapport (even if it's uneasy) that she has with Reed and how well she knows him

introduce their opinions on Valentine

Then from there the process is basically:

Think of ways to accomplish objectives in the chapter that sound like fun.

Write them down in *some* way, if it's a wip snippet of a scene, [describing what's going on in brackets] or just a barebones script dialog with no description.

Repeat steps 1-2 as many times as needed to get the raw material for the scene that feels fun and satisfying. This may take a fair amount of time.

Finish Draft 0 - where all the scenes are interconnected, and the text written (even if badly), with no remaining [placeholders] or highlights.

Edit. Edit. Edit. Read pieces aloud. Find a rhythm. Edit. Despair. Edit. Despair. Rest.

Optional Beta Step

Publish.

D'oh.

Republish.

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts day 70 (part 2) (yes it's a double day)

From this prompt list. If you’ve read this far, I’m not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I hadn’t written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way to restart. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft a while ago and am now unlocking the old entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here, or on ao3 here

Day 70 (part one) here

***

81. "I don't think I've ever wanted someone more."

102. "Fuck, you're so hot when you're bossy."

***

Tim felt the ball was definitely in Damian's court now, but for the week after their hotel liaison it seemed Damian didn't agree. Tim texted him a couple of times, with spurious inquiries as to the progress of their case or something WE-related. Damian's replies were swift, efficient, and without follow-up.

It was tempting to think he'd read the situation incorrectly, but every time he started to lean toward thinking Damian just wasn't that into him after all, he remembered his timeline. No. He didn't make mistakes with that much evidence at hand. Damian just needed to be waited out.

Eight days after the conference room, Tim's phone vibrated just as he was about to turn in. It had been a shitty night, with rain pouring down the entire time, ending with a wrenched ankle when he'd slipped on black ice. He'd fallen asleep at his dining room table after patrol and woken up with food on his face, so he'd had to shower again before heading to bed.

"Who the hell else is up this late?" he muttered to himself, picking up the phone and opening messages.

Damian's name appeared at the top of the threads. With a triumphant smile, Tim tapped it.

Are you home?

yeah of course why Tim typed, thought better of it, and added capitalization, a period, and a question mark.

I am nearby and wanted to check on you.

Tim resisted the urge to pump his fist in the air like a cheesy eighties movie and replied, You're more than welcome.

About two minutes later, Damian walked through the door Tim had left open for him, looking like a fashion spread in Vanity Fair. (And Tim would've known—they'd both posed for the inside front fold of the issue titled "The New Nepo.")

"Hey," Tim breathed out, trying and failing to keep a dopey grin off his face. He was too tired to make a concerted effort.

"Hello." Damian kicked off his shoes and strode to the couch where Tim waited. "How's the ankle? Father told me you wrenched it while you were out."

"It's fine, just a little sore. Do you want tea? It's freezing tonight." Tim rose to his feet and winced involuntarily at the sharp stab of pain radiating up his shin.

Damian's eyes narrowed. "That's not 'a little sore.' And you look exhausted. Is that . . . is that a piece of a Crocky Crunch nugget in your hair?"

"Dammit." Tim watched as Damian plucked the offending food from the hair just above his ear. "I must've missed it when I washed up."

"You're a disaster, Drake." The reprimand lost some of its impact when Damian pressed his palm to Tim's cheek, then shifted to his forehead. "And you have a fever. I insist that you go to bed immediately."

Tim didn't move, just kept looking up at him, and Damian might actually have had a point about the fever because he couldn't stop smiling. "Fuck, you're so hot when you're bossy."

Damian actually looked taken aback at that. "Are you trying to be funny? I don't find it amusing that someone without a spleen might be coming down with an infection." His hand moved from Tim's forehead to the side of his neck, gently squeezing the sensitive skin where it met his shoulder.

Tim lowered his head to kiss Damian's wrist. "You would if you still hated me. I'm glad you don't."

"I don't waste energy on hating the merely annoying." Damian pulled him closer. "Lean on me so we can get to your bedroom without making that ankle worse."

Tim obediently walk-hopped into his bedroom and climbed into the bed once Damian drew the covers back for him. "Did you really only come out to check on me?"

Damian didn't answer at first, but Tim had learned his lesson by now. He waited, covers pulled up to his chin, counting the beard hairs where they shadowed Damian's cheekbones and jawline. Bruce often needed to shave twice a day. It looked like Damian was soon to be in the same boat. Tim really wanted to feel the stubble against his teeth again.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Damian picked up Tim's hand where it lay on the duvet and played with his fingers. "I was out with Jon again. I just happened to be coming back through the city on my way to Bristol when I spoke to Father."

Tim frowned. "Why have you been hanging out with Jon so much lately?"

Damian shrugged, an elegant lift of his shoulders. "He is always happy to see me. Not many are. And the Manor is . . . the Manor is so empty, now that it's just me and Father."

Tim captured Damian's fingertips with his own and lifted them to his lips. "If you come here, I'll be happy to see you," he said into the warm skin. "I'm happy now."

A faint smile graced Damian's lips as he watched his fingers press to Tim's mouth. "I'm not sorry I stopped by."

"Good. Do it more." Tim kissed his knuckles.

"I feel that I owe you, in any case." At Tim's look of confusion, Damian clarified, "In the conference room, you did not—I failed to—"

"Dami, no." Tim pulled Damian's hand so he could press it to his chest. "I wanted things to go that way. You didn't fail at all."

Damian nodded, eyes downcast. "If you say so."

"Hey." Once he'd regained Damian's eye contact, Tim smiled again. "That doesn't mean I don't want to come with you next time."

"Next time?" Damian echoed, probably aiming for "incredulous" with his tone but only succeeding in sounding enthusiastic.

With a tug to his arm, Tim pulled him close enough that he could kiss Damian's forehead, right on the furrow between his brows. "Yeah, next time, if you're up for that.”

“I'm not opposed, but I am . . .” Damian seemed to be struggling for the correct term. He decided on, “Skeptical.”

Tim nodded. “What if I told you I don't think I've ever wanted someone more? Would that make it more believable?"

Damian had been carefully holding himself apart from Tim except where their hands touched, but at this, he let himself lean into him, tucking his face into Tim's neck as he wrapped strong arms around Tim's waist. "I would very much like to believe it."

"Good." Tim kissed the top of his head and held him close. "I'll do my best to help with that, then."

Damian nodded, still hiding his expression against Tim's neck. "May I stay here tonight? I'm tired and I don't want to drive out to the Manor this late."

Damian Wayne, asking for something he wanted from Tim Drake? Tim resisted the urge to reach for his journal and instead said, "Yeah, of course. I'd love to have you."

days 71-75 here

[mollish-art]

HOW DO YOU WRITE SO AMAZINGLY WOULD YOU HAVE ANY TIPS I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF UNPERSONS IT'S SO GOOD

eeeEEEEE thank you so much!!! That's really sweet of you to say - I'm so happy that you're enjoying the story so far!!

This is honestly the first I'm I've even attempted to write anything of this length before, so I'm amazed it's been received so positively.

I am by no means a professional writer, nor have I taken any creative writing classes or been to any workshops, but I'll just let you know what I tried to keep in mind, as that seemed to work for me! Take this with a grain of salt, though :)

When I was in the midst of writing, I was absolutely hyperfixated. The story was literally all I thought about. I only listened to the playlists I curated for it on repeat, even when not writing or drawing concept art for it. It was honestly a little unhealthy lmao but it gave me the stamina and inspiration I needed to sit for long hours and just write.

First things first: I wrote a really rough plan of how I wanted all of the scenes to play out, color-coding the headings by perspective. I even gave each segment heading names that were eventually removed from the final draft of each chapter. For example, here are the perspective titles for chapters 2 and 3:

And here is a random screenshot of some of the plot outline from Chapter 3:

I'd put random keywords in there along with media references and links to concept art etc to jog my brain as well.

This helped me to keep overarching goals in mind when I actually began to write the chapters themselves. I also wrote everything in order - I never skipped over writing certain scenes. That might work for some people, but not me hehe

What's very important to note though is that as I was in the middle of writing each chapter, I simply wrote what felt right. If something seemed to just work better, even if it went against my initial outline, I would write that instead.

Additionally, I constantly assessed my strengths and weaknesses. I feel far more comfortable describing physical and emotional reactions than I do writing dialogue, so I would always pay particuarly close attention to the dialogue I wrote when editing. I would often read whole segments out loud so as to avoid as many cases of "he-would-NOT-fucking-say-that"-syndrome as possible.

Also, I would take frequent breaks. If a scene I was writing just was not coming together, I'd stop writing for a while rather than burning myself out.

I tried to take into account some advice I heard from somewhere else as much as I could, namely to balance descriptions of the environment with dialogue, both internal and external. I tried to catch myself whenever I noticed I was dedicating a huge, uniterrupted chunk of text to only dialogue or only environomental description.

Another thing: I like using figurative language. A lot. Probably a little too much. But I like being dramatic and artsy (a bit like my characterization of Hetch, I suppose), so I would include a lot of metaphors and similes within my writing. I feel like it helps to paint more of an abstract picture and let the reader fill in the gaps themselves with their mind rather than to give too many minute details, as that can get boring pretty quickly.

Lastly, I revised my drafts many times before I sent them to my beta readers, checking mostly for continuity errors, flow, and any grammatical/spelling errors. I'd often do my revisions aloud to myself, as I tend to catch more awkward sentences that way as opposed to just reading it silently to myself!

Hopefully some of that is helpful :) Honestly, the biggest piece of advice I can give is to just get out there and write. I didn't know I was capable of pulling this off until I sat down and did it. And, most of alll, I was writing more for myself than anyone else. In other words, I just had fun with it! I didn't really care if people would resonate with it, all that I knew is that I enjoyed writing it myself. Thankfully, that seemed to come across! I'm still blown away by how Unperson has been received so far. I'm really looking forward to getting the chance to get back to writing it again!

[skarlette1]

Making It Tick: Vivacious Voice

I promised a bit of “behind the scenes” for Libido League #14: Vivacious Voice, so we’ll start out with non-spoiler bits for those who haven’t read it yet. I’ll clearly label where spoilers begin. If you wanna skip the “inside baseball” about my real-life writing process and just discuss fictional plot and character stuff, scroll right on down to the “SPOILER” section.

To anyone expecting that the next novella-length Libido League e-book was going to feature Mnemonica and Lashlust, I say this: So was I! I have the rough draft of that novella done, but it is very, very rough. It needs a LOT of editing. It will get there, but it’s going to take some time. Hopefully, you’ll see it in the first half of 2024.

So, after I posted the penultimate chapter of Pearl Girls in mid-November, I looked at the calendar, the state of the Mnemonica/Lashlust novella, and realized that I wouldn’t be able to give it the editing it deserved before the end of the year. That meant that 2023 would be the first year I published NO new e-books! I didn’t want that to happen!

So, I got creative.

Ever since I published the first version of “Quid Pro Quo” here on the blog back in June, I’ve been wondering about the next meeting of Platinum Panther and Allie Kaza’am. I’d already written a little bit of Penelope tracking down her father’s car, to relax between larger projects. It was shaping up to be pretty hot. Maybe I could finish that before the end of the year?

However, when I offer an e-book for sale, I do my best to ensure it’s a complete story. Even when it says “#14” on the cover, I want a reader to be able to pick up just that e-book and understand the characters and situation well enough to enjoy the story. That meant that the new story couldn’t stand on its own, it needed both “Quid Pro Quo” and “Horny New Year” in the same e-book.

Easy-peasy, right? It’s just copy-and-paste, right?

Not quite! “Quid Pro Quo” featured Flechette and was kind of a sequel to her previous run-ins with Allie Kaza’am in “Ambushed” and “Prove Me Wrong.” So they needed to go in, as well. But those flash fictions were originally written in the 3rd person point-of-view. All my e-books are told from a 1st person POV. It’s kinda my style at this point. Rewriting them from 3rd to 1st person POV couldn’t take that long, could it?

It could! Particularly when I hadn’t finished writing the new “Vivacious Voice” story yet! Plus, rewriting Flechette’s chapters into 1st person revealed that there was a missing piece to her story, so I also had to write “Missing Time”! The whole time I was wondering if having two different 1st person POV narrators in the same novella would be too distracting for readers. What do you think? I’m considering using it again in future projects and would love some feedback.

I hope you’re beginning to see why I posted no new stories on the blog in December! But, I finished all that writing and formatting (plus three possible covers that you helped me choose the best of) and managed to hit “publish” before the end of the year! Yay!

But enough about me. Let’s chat about our girls, both good and bad.

SPOILERS BEGIN HERE

Flechette: Let’s start with the new girl on the block. Although she’s shown up in my flash fiction since the very early days, and the character’s “secret origin” is kinda the first story I ever posted to the EMCSA, she’s never featured in an e-book before. Part of that is that I’ve never been at a loss for characters, but part of that is that I didn’t quite understand her well enough. I think I do now.

We all understand the trope Flechette is built off of, right? Every A-list superhero team needs to have an archer, right? Even though it’s patently absurd that when you’re facing opposition that can crush tanks like candy wrappers and shrug off grenades, the person you most want on your team is armed only with a bow-and-arrow, right?

Right!

So just building out from the stereotype, we know that Flechette needs to be both stunningly talented and tirelessly dedicated. With no superpowers, how else is she going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Doctor Q and Captain Alpha? It takes a special kind of crazy to do what she does. The messed up lives of Clint Barton, Oliver Queen, Kate Bishop, and Roy Harper can attest to that.

Rewriting her previous flashes from Flechette’s POV, I really found her no-nonsense dedication to the job coming to the forefront. The bit that really unlocked her character for me is when Platinum Panther is telling Flechette why she’s the most qualified for this mission and Flechette just cuts her off her flattery by acknowledging that she’s the least dangerous person on the team if she succumbs to Allie Kaza’am’s voice and then compliments her on the strategy. She’s got no ego to bruise here. Flechette is driven to be her best self every day, but doesn’t need to be better than anyone else to do it. She just needs to be better than she was yesterday. That’s the thing that drives her to put in all the hours at the gym and on the archery range (and never skip leg day).

It’s also the thing that makes her frustrating to Allie Kaza’am. With no secret shame to toy with, and no repressed joy to tease, Flechette doesn’t offer Allie anything to play with. That’s why she ends up tiring of Flechette rather quickly, tricking her into straightforward “deals” to do Allie’s bidding, and eventually underestimating her. “Driven and dedicated” might not get Flechette laid very often, but it comes in handy when capturing supervillains!

Allie Kaza’am: Speaking of supervillains, Allie drives this whole story like a stolen car. We already discussed the original influences of her character back in a previous “Making It Tick.” Let’s talk about what’s driving her in this story.

After the events of “Daring Truth”, where she humiliated the leader of the most powerful team of superheroes, the smart thing to do would have been to get as far from Skarlette City as possible! Instead, she worms her way into a high-class New Year’s Eve party just so she can manipulate Platinum Panther’s boss into revealing how to get in touch with the armored heroine. Does she stop when she uncovers Panther’s secret identity, knowing that will make her a number-one priority for the League to capture? No! Even when Flechette gets the drop on her, she keeps going, looking for a way inside Libido League Tower so she can meet Penelope in her own “home turf”. Playing the “get captured on purpose” card scores her everything she could want: an A-list superheroine (with a billionaire’s bank account) kneeling, meek and submissive before her. She could have had her fun, made off with a lifetime score, and vanished into the wind. Instead, she steals a prize possession that Penelope won’t be able to let go. Why does she do all this?

It’s simple: Allie Kaza’am wants to be hunted.

It makes her feel desirable to know that Platinum Panther is searching for her. To know that Penelope’s brilliant brain is obsessed with her, and is daydreaming about becoming Lily for her. Allie can’t be content with winning because her real game is getting Penelope to wrap her whole life around Allie.

Why does she care about that?

A big part of it is simply how audacious all this is. Allie gets a huge thrill from the risk itself. The more dangerous something is, the more exciting.

But if that were the only thing, she’d get more out of outwitting Flechette. Flechette is one dangerous heroine to have on your tail and a one impressive victory when she sinks to her knees. But Allie finds Flechette boring. Once she finally turns Flechette’s resistance against itself in “Prove Me Wrong”, the best Allie can do is force the heroine to forget all about her!

Until there’s a way that Flechette can help Allie capture Panther. Because, in her own twisted way, Allie Kaza’am is smitten with Lily/Platinum Panther/Penelope Payes. She’s just as obsessed with Lily as she wants Lily to be obsessed with her. That’s why the thing that sticks in Allie’s craw about Lily is not that she’s constantly trying to capture Allie and bring her to justice. It’s that Penelope insists that she’s “100% straight” and the only reason she could possibly have so much sex with Allie is because of her voice powers.

It’s not enough to have Penelope obsessed with her, she wants Penelope to admit that she’s attracted to her.

When Allie’s tactic of “look how irresistible I am, even your hardass archer submits to me, so why can’t you?” backfires, that’s why Penelope’s outburst hurts her deeply. That’s why she finally loses her cool and launches into the rant that allows Flechette to break her conditioning.

Like so many supervillains, it’s the thing she wants most that proves her own undoing.

Platinum Panther: So what about our central heroine? Coming out of the events of Libido League #13: Panther’s Passion, Penelope is kinda reeling. She took a chance, trusted a “normal” guy (at least, not a superhero), and got betrayed. She’s ready to reject any chance at connecting with anyone new. She’s goes to a party out of a sense of obligation to an old friend, ready to reject anyone he introduces her to. Surprise: She’s met with someone from her “secret life” as a superheroine that completely takes her by surprise. Allie strips off Penelope’s defenses of wealth, status, and connections as easily as she stripped off Platinum Panther’s armor in Libido League #3: Daring Truth. Penelope is left exposed, open, and vulnerable in a setting she’s supposed to be powerful in. She’s tried to be clever and stubborn and outwit the villainess, but she gets outmanueverd and the most surprising thing of all happens:

Nothing terrible.

Allie does get away with Penelope’s secret identity, but she doesn’t hurt anybody. As a supervillain, she skates on the edge between being a threat that needs to be stopped and being a nuisance that can be tolerated. So Penelope can rationalize that she’s seeking her out “to bring her to justice” rather than “because she’s fun and sexy”.

Which, of course, leads to her getting outmaneuvered in “Quid Pro Quo” and the beginning of “Vivacious Voice”. Penelope is really getting sucked into the cat-and-mouse game with Allie (the mouse, of course, is Penelope/Lily). They could easily settle into a pattern of this: Penelope tries to capture Allie, Allie tricks her into becoming Lily, many orgasms are had, Allie slips away.

But Allie pushes Penelope too far, too fast. And Penelope very nearly goes for it. She gives into everything Allie asks of her until Flechette shows up. Looking every inch the upright superheroine that Penelope feels she’s supposed to be, all those voices that drive her come roaring back. While she’s furious at herself for submitting, she lashes out with all that rage directed at Allie. Which leaves her where she started: frustrated and alone.

Oh well, at least Penelope can console herself that her arch-nemesis Terence Tartarus is headed to prison. No way anything could possibly go wrong with that!

Sorry for the long blog post. I didn’t have time to write a short one.

I’m dying to know: What did you think of the e-book? (spoilers okay in the comments)

[newworldproductions]

AI in Video Production: Game-Changer or Just Hype?

It’s hard to ignore the presence of artificial intelligence these days. It’s showing up in everything—from the emails you write to the photos you edit. And now? It’s making its way into the world of video production.

If you're a business owner or marketer looking into video, you might be wondering: should I care about AI in this space? Does it help? Does it hurt? And can it actually create something that feels… well, human?

The truth is, AI in video production is both exciting and complicated. It’s changing how things are done, but it’s not the magical one-size-fits-all solution some people make it out to be.

Let’s talk about the good stuff first. AI is seriously helpful when it comes to speeding things up. It can transcribe interviews in seconds, automate rough edits, generate captions almost instantly, and even help organize footage by content. What used to take a few hours can sometimes take just a few clicks. That can mean faster turnaround times and fewer headaches—especially for repetitive or time-consuming tasks.

AI can also make video more accessible to companies that don’t have huge budgets. There are tools now that let small businesses create explainer videos, edit social clips, or add voiceovers without hiring a full production team. If you’re trying to crank out content quickly or stay within a tight marketing budget, that kind of help can be a lifesaver.

And, believe it or not, some creatives are using AI to actually fuel their ideas. Want to see how your script might look visually? AI can generate storyboard drafts. Need help thinking through variations on a video concept? AI can pitch new directions in seconds. Used thoughtfully, it can act like a creative assistant—not a replacement for your vision, but a spark to keep things moving.

But here’s where things get tricky. AI is fast, yes. But it’s not emotionally intelligent. It doesn’t understand subtle humor. It doesn’t know your brand’s tone or your audience’s needs. It can spit out content that’s technically “correct,” but often lacks the heart and originality that makes a video memorable.

And while it’s great at helping with first drafts, it still needs humans to fine-tune the final product. AI doesn’t catch all the nuances—like when a facial expression feels off, or when a line of dialogue hits the wrong emotional note. You still need real people with real experience to guide the storytelling, polish the pacing, and bring the piece to life.

There’s also the question of trust. Deepfakes and AI-generated voices are raising some serious eyebrows. People are becoming more aware—and more skeptical—of content that doesn’t feel authentic. If your brand is built on trust and human connection, relying too heavily on AI could backfire. At the very least, you’ll need to be transparent about how your content is made.

And let’s not ignore the elephant in the room—AI is changing jobs. Some roles in the industry will evolve, others might fade, and entirely new ones will pop up. It’s a shift, for sure. But rather than replacing people, the best use of AI seems to be about supporting teams, helping them work smarter and freeing them up to focus on the work that truly needs a human touch.

So, where does that leave you?

If you're considering video for your business, the key is balance. AI can help make production more efficient, but it shouldn't replace creativity, strategy, or storytelling. It’s a tool. A powerful one—but still just a tool.

At our video production company in Minneapolis, we’re not anti-AI. We’re pro-smart-production. That means we stay curious, test new technologies, and use what works—but we never lose sight of the human side of content creation. The emotion. The authenticity. The connection. That’s where the magic happens.

If you’re curious about how AI could fit into your next video project—or if you just want help telling a story that actually lands with real people—we’re here to help.

Let’s make something great, together. No robots required (unless we need a cool robot voice—that’s fair game).

[jacobcastaneda02]

Senior Capstone Update 2: February 11, 2025

Throughout the past 2 weeks, I've been working on my game design document (GDD), making artworks for my game, outlining my workback plan, and trying to see which game engine I'll be using for my capstone project. I've completed one of my artwork for the game, specifically on the bedroom scenery (I've also include layers to them too. I'm also working on the bedroom doorway and the closet artworks as these 3 will act as part of the game in terms of having a "point-and-click" mechanic.

GDD Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/13Sv3VQ7cjnk486BR_KQOXs3dzsMnqoP9-OWiL3nmoJM/edit?tab=t.0

Screenshots/Videos

Finished Artwork(s):

The hurdles that have been stalling me would be my personal mental health as I have to find ways to keep myself from falling apart, some family issues that I've been dealing with, and one of the mistakes that I've made which is saving my bedroom art directly and not saving as a copy. Along with trying to deal with my classwork for both of my classes outside of the capstone. I even had some struggles with Unity as I haven't installed the latest version as it does need more bytes to install.

I did seek a therapist about my personal mental health and any family issues as she told me to balance my leisure and work time, along with taking care of myself mentally. For this mistake that I've made in terms of my bedroom art (warning: each layers from this piece is very dark), I am planning to redo the scene as I'll fill in the bright colors and give the exact details that I intend to give; if not, I'll keep them the way they are. It shouldn't take that long. For now in terms of the game engine I'll be using, it can either be Godot or Gamemaker.

Since we're at the end of the pre-production phase, I'm almost ready to start on making the game. I just need to get the rest of the scenery artworks done, keep on working on the GDD if there is anything that needs to be added/fixed, and I would most likely use Gamemaker or Godot as I said earlier.

While I have my workback plan out while having it as a rough draft, I'll keep a promise to complete a GDD on what the game would be like. Along with having the game demo/early build as an optional choice. Whatever comes up for this week and the following 2 weeks, I'll keep things soon updated and I'll see what alternatives I can make to continue this milestone. 👍🏽

*Additional Notes: I'll also post these finished products on my other socials if I can instead of just here on Tumblr

[mosscreeper-ao3]

Okay as promised, here's a breakdown of how I feel about each October writing challenge so far + if I'll be doing them next year.

Whumptober

Okay, this one pushed me to my gd limits as a writer but holy hell has it made me grow. I'm really proud of my work with this one so far and very happy with how I split it up into different fics + two one shots. People's engagement with the Keith fic has been incredibly rewarding. Terms and Conditions is probably one of my favorite things I've ever written in terms of how hard I worked on it and that hard work paying off. The change in quality from rough draft to finished product has made me much more confident in both my editing and writing skills.

I will 100% be doing this one next year.

Flufftober

Another challenge I've really enjoyed. Though, I consider it less of a challenge than a fun little pallet cleanser. The drabbles I've written for it have been a nice way to relax over the month.

I will 100% be doing this again next year.

Kinktober under the cut, minors keep scrolling

Kinktober

I was a bit reluctant to participate in this one in general. Even if the original creator disappeared off the internet, their commitment to defending loli/shota and people jerking it to fictional CP was... troubling to say the least and left a bad taste in my mouth about the whole event. So, maybe I was a bit negative/nervous going in.

While there are some fics in the collection I've really enjoyed writing, most of them have felt like a chore. I also can't help but feel thats somewhat reflected in the quality of those pieces, which I hate.

I've also realized I really prefer using sex more so as a medium to show off different emotional vulnerabilities of characters and exploring how they approach sex as a reflection of their traumas and insecurities. I feel like writing smut in a vacuum of PWP has really taken a lot of that out.

I can't help but think of You and I Were Fireworks and the second chapter sex scene there. It showcases how James is hurting, his desperate need for Keith, and Keith doing things he normally wouldn't for James sake. It communicates how each is going into rekindling this relationship and how James has changed from being very passive in his relationships for fear of rejection to taking charge. Also the lack of impulse control on James' part helps hint at just how convinced he is that he's going to die in this war.

I feel like I haven't reached that same level of storytelling in any of the Kinktober fics, even the ones I've enjoyed writing.

I'll finish the month out, but I don't think I'll be doing this one again.

[tamiveldura]

I'm autistic and have ADHD, and I'm a chronic illness spoonie, and I'm here to tell you that A System is your friend. You don't have to write every day. You don't even have to write once a week. But you do need a system or routine that you can activate when it's Project Time.

I have been writing to-deadline for about 6 years now. I have never missed a deadline, but a few of those first ones were skin-of-the-teeth and I've been perfecting my systems ever since so that never happens again. I can't handle the stress.

The deadline is not a healthy motivator. Though my ADHD peeps will agree that it is effective. I've spent the last 6 years figuring out how to avoid Crunch Time.

The answer is a system.

I do not write every day. I do not track wordcount. I tried both of those and they don't work for me. (Maybe they work for you. Try it, but try other things too. Don't force it.)

Your system will be unique to you. But you'll figure it out by trying other systems on until you assemble the pieces that work.

My process looks like this:

Idea or deadline: either I've thought of a genius plot or I've chosen to tackle a project with other people (like a multi author series, or an anthology). Both of these trigger a new file in my scrivener wherever the story belongs.

Setup: I have a brainstorm document, an outline document, a draft document, a notes document. These keep the project contained.

Ideating: most writers really love this stage of a project, it's where all the great excitement of discovery lies. I dump all of this into my brainstorm document.

Plotting: works very well for me. Might not work for you. I organize all the tangled things in the brainstorm document into a structure. I check the beats of my chosen tropes. I hunt down plot holes. I scene block characters and action sequences in very rough terms just so I have large movement gestures. Emotional arc.

Drafting: not my favorite task, NGL. I dictate the initial draft and it's not good. I'm not trying to come up with beautiful words and amazing turns of phrase. I could, but it would make this part take 10x as long and it doesn't need to. Often this is a very dull series of simple sentences just to work my way through each scene. My goal here is to literally convert the plotting notes into the correct tense and sequence of events. Nothing more.

Revision: I like this part because I don't have to do the heavy lifting of "what happens next?" I already know what happens, now I get to make it pretty

PWA: proofreading. Not my strongest skill, so I use Pro Writing Aid to jumpstart me. It really helps with passive voice, which I'll slip into when tired.

Editing: paid. Not everything gets a paid pass. Some works go on submission. Others are released naked into the world. I do a lot of short stories.

Publishing: formatting, cover art, audio art, uploading, audio upload, newsletter announcement, promo scheduling, etcetcetc

Ok so these are the general steps of authorship, but what is the dang system?

The system boils down to two things:

1: days I decide I'm working

2: days I decide I'm not working (number 1 can turn into number two if it's a bad day)

By default I work Monday-Friday from about 1 pm to 4 pm. Weekends are off. Any day my husband comes home early gets cut short. Any day he is off I'm also off. Any day I wake up with no spoons, I'm off. Any day I realize I'm feeling stressed, I look at the calendar to check deadlines and book a week off. I take a week off after every novella or novel, but I'll go two or three short stories in a row. I take December off, usually starting at Thanksgiving and ending a week after new year.

You may be seeing a trend here. I take a lot of time off. It turns out, when I started giving myself the time I needed to rest and read and relax without guilt, my output on workdays skyrocketed.

Side note: you are probably not living with a sugar daddy paying the bills. I'm really fucking lucky to have funding in my corner. But REST is a requirement and you must do your very very best to protect your resting days/hours to the death.

Tami, I hear you say, what is the system? The writing system. The system that keeps you getting up every Monday-friday and having the energy and attention (if not the motivation) to work every day on the book?

Rest is the system. But the system is Deliberate. The system is Attentive. The system asks: is today a rest day? If yes what storytelling are we consuming to refill the well for our next workday?

It's not restful to doom scroll Tumblr "looking for inspiration." It's not restful to binge 6 seasons of Survivor in two weeks. Both of these things have their place, but when was the last time you deliberately planned your rest to be fulfilling and recharging? When was the last time you gave it any more thought then "I'm just tired."

The first day I decided to rest on purpose, I slept for 12 hours straight. The next couple of weeks were solidly 10/11 hours per night. That has since eased up to about 9 or 9.5, but it's 9ish Every Single Night. Before I decided to rest, I was only giving myself 6 or 7. Did you know some symptoms of chronic exhaustion are indistinguishable from dementia? I had no idea how much sleep I really needed.

If you're still here (I appreciate you), this is where we get to the work. You have rested. You have refilled the creative well. You wake up and decide Today Is A Writing Day.

Cool. Open the document and read your most recent chapter to figure out where you left off.

Take a glance at your notes or your outline if you have one.

What scene sounds fun today? Start writing that one, [put brackets around anything questionable] or that you have to look up later (do it later!) and as soon as you come to a point we're you've exhausted the initial energy of the day: STOP.

Write a few notes to yourself about where you think this is going next. And put it all away.

Congrats, you've probably been writing for 20 minutes. Maybe 50 if you had a good run. Perhaps you managed more than 1k. Maybe. I can only break 1k/hr when I'm dictating.

But Tami, the book is NineHundredThousand words long this will take forever.

Yeah, it will. It's a novel. But if you rest and you refill the well first, you will have more and more and more workdays.

You wanna write a book in a year? You're running a marathon, but you've gotta build up your muscles. It takes months, years, to train for a marathon. And you know what a marathon runner needs to train well and hard?

REST.

Writing Tip - What ‘Habit Over Motivation’ Actually Looks Like

We’ve all heard the writing advice that you can’t rely on motivation to get you through writing a book, sometimes you need to force yourself to do it and make a habit of it. And a lot of us will scoff at that or find it too restrictive or boring, it leaves us feeling like it’s a chore rather than a fun activity

As someone who only worked out what people actually mean by it recently, let me explain my take on it

You’re not always going to be inspired to write, you’re not always going to be motivated to write, but if you only write when you’re motivated it’s gonna take a crap ton of time - and writing anything to completion already takes donkey’s years as it is. Forming a habit is going to enable you to write consistently, and thus even unmotivated or uninspired progress is still made. Hence, sometimes you have to force yourself to write

But writing too much will make that habit impossible, or at least it becomes a chore and not a fun activity. You need to give yourself realistic goals to meet, even if it’s only something small. Write for ten minutes a day, write 500 words every week, any snail’s pace progress regardless of how insignificant it may seem. Something small enough that it doesn’t drain you but frequent enough that there’s still a habit being formed, there’s still consistency to it

I used to only write when I was inspired and motivated and could get myself to start writing, and even then the word count would be inconsistent. It could be weeks or even months between proper writing sessions. But now that I have a baseline for productivity, I have a baseline for consistent progress. And I’m only on 1K words a week! And if that doesn’t work, you can do less, or go by time spent writing if that’s a better metric for your writing style!

There’s no such thing as not enough progress when it comes to forming a consistent habit; if you can get at least one word per deadline (day, week, whatever) then that still counts as consistent progress

What everyone else seems to think of is “You must get this big amount of words written daily, think of it as eternal NaNoWriMo, if you miss even one day you’re a failure and you’ll never get the book done, SUFFER FOR YOUR ART!”

Just do what’s comfortable and it’ll be fine, no worries

[write-lets-do-this]

There have been so many times over the last few years that I’ve shirked the idea of going over things I’ve written before submitting them. In some cases, all this means is that I’ve got a few very rough drafts of novels that I’m probably never going to touch again. In others, it means I’ve got a problem.

You can’t really pursue a career where you have to do any significant amount of writing without the ability to go back over your work and at least do the bare minimum of proofreading it for grammatical mistakes. That said, it isn’t always an easy or enjoyable thing to go back and reread what you’ve written and face the possibility that you’ll hate all of it and have to start again from scratch. Nevertheless, it is an essential skill and there are ways of making it both easier and more enjoyable.

So how do I do it?

There’s the most obvious way of avoiding this: getting someone to do it for you. Maybe you can beg a friend to help, or hand your laptop over to a parent for as many minutes as you can stand to let them interfere with your work. With their advice, the process of reviewing your writing becomes a lot shorter – for you, at least – and saves you from having to look at the whole piece if they give you specific areas where your writing is weaker.

But that isn’t always an option, and of course, having someone do it for you doesn’t actually address the problem here.

Break it into pieces.

With smaller chunks, the workload can be a lot less daunting – especially if you’re working with a novel or a particularly lengthy essay. This is a useful tip for pretty much any decently sized piece of work you have to do, but you can even go as far as separating a particularly difficult sentence out into its own paragraph to make it easier to look at how each it works individually rather than struggling to find the issue with it when it’s hidden in amongst a larger block of text.

Change the font!

This is advice I’ve seen many times from various different sources, but it does truly work. If you wrote in a serif font (the ones with the fancy little caps at the ends of letters,) changing to a sans-serif one changes the appearance enough that it can feel as if you’re looking at a completely new document.

In addition to this, using less ‘formal’ fonts like comic sans can take away some of the pressure of working with a finished document and allow you to make edits and rehash your work without feeling as if you’re tampering with a finished document. Sans-serif fonts are also designed to be easier to read, and have even been known to improve reading speed and accuracy, which is another factor to consider if you’re wanting to think of ways to make the process of editing less time-consuming.

Print it off!

This is another thing that can make your life a whole lot easier. Sometimes, looking at the work you’ve typed out again on a screen can make it feel as if the effort of editing it is all one static process that erases the feeling of progress, especially if you’re someone who, like me, is inclined to check their word count at regular intervals to monitor their progress.

Having a hard copy in front of you that you can scribble all over and highlight as you like far more easily than you could with a digital document is great for longer documents, or really anything that involves longer chunks of text. And, once you’ve got a fully annotated sheet of paper or two, there’s a lot more evidence of the effort you’ve put in.

 When you have made all the notes you need to perfect your draft, it is often easier to rewrite the whole piece onto a new document. While it may take a little while longer, it ensures that you aren’t making changes without actually checking that the surrounding text also makes sense after the edits have been made (e.g. if you decide to change the tense of a section and also add a new phrase, it’s possible to simply add the phrase in the desired tense and forget to apply it to the whole sentence or paragraph if you’re just editing an existing document.)

Overall

Along with all these specific pointers, it’s always useful to take regular breaks between working and to find the ways that work best for you to be able to focus, whether that might be locking yourself away in your room with your phone outside the door and working in peaceful silence, or sticking a pair of headphones on at the library. Here, I’ve mostly been focusing on the techniques that make it easier for me to reduce the time that I have to be editing my work and make the editing that I do do more effective.

Of course, proofreading and editing one’s work isn’t such a chore for everyone; even I enjoy it (when it’s not my own writing I’m editing.) If you have different methods that make the process more enjoyable for you, please leave them in the comments!

-Olive Tree

[rreyie]

k. (eren j. x reader)

summary; you're well aware by now that your feelings of eren have blossomed into something more than a fuckbuddy. but you're not quite sure if he'll agree.

content warnings; smut (18+), fingering, oral (f. receiving), vaginal, unprotected sex, unestablished relationship, degrading, use of pet names, creampie, slight dumbification, hurt at the end i’m sorry.

word count; 2.2k

a/n; the fic that has been sitting in my drafts for 2 months has been completed! anyways i’m sorry i’m advance

you're well aware by now that eren jaeger isn't just a one night stand you had a week ago. you couldn't quite call it a friendship now, but perhaps fuckbuddies- or people who banged on the low with no strings attached.

well, you wouldn't say you didn't have feelings for him by now. you couldn't tell if it was his mischievous personality or his nine inch long dick, but there were certainly more than platonic feelings on your end.

you two had met when armin, mikasa and eren bought a house to rent out for college. you were a friend of mikasa's and had nowhere to go except to the house they rented, so you moved in. you and eren clicked almost instantaneously, as if you were best friends your whole life.

the sexual tension between you two was inexplicable. and you both knew it. and that's why one day, eren chose to make his move when you two were watching "finding nemo: blu-ray dvd edition" on the couch in the living room.

you two fucked during the scene when the little red-headed girl was terrorizing the other fish. but you two don't talk about it. all that mattered was that it was good sex- and by good, you meant really. fucking. good. you had no clue how he gained all this experience, but that didn't matter either.

now you were here, nearing the end of your sophomore year. this little rendezvous with eren had lasted five months now. you two definitely fucked often- sometimes sucking him off while he was studying for is psychology course, other times bending you over the bathroom counter with a death grip on your asscheeks.

this time he had walked into your room while you were clicking away at your laptop while you sat on your bed, doing your best to study for the exam you had next week. he didn't say a word, just laid down on the bed next to you and stared up at the ceiling.

you tried your hardest to ignore him, but your train of thought was lost when he cleared his throat unnecessarily loudly as if you couldn't already tell that he was right next to you.

you shut your laptop in defeat, and turned your head over to eren, a smile ever so slightly curling on his lips. you were unamused at his behavior.

"yes, eren?" you ask, eyes locking with his jade orbs. he clearly hasn't slept in a while, telling from the dark circles under his eyes, contrasting his somewhat tan skin. his brown hair was in its messy bun like normal, tied up sloppily with some baby hairs poking out here and there.

"dunno", he responded. "just seeing what you're up to."

"mhm? well, that sounds like bullshit to me, mister jaeger", you scoff. "you always come in here and make yourself at home when you're horny."

eren sighed, and sat up from his position. "fine, you caught me red handed. but i know you're as horny as i am."

"...you're right", you admit, before he flips over so he's on all fours and crawls over so he's in front of you. the several rings that adorned his fingers glistened in the ceiling light above, his grey sweatshirt hanging loosely around his body. though what he always wore was so simple, he never failed to look breathtaking in it.

tugging at the waist of your sweatpants, eren growled a "take it off" before you slid your hands down to your waist and did as he told you, leaving you in your panties. you didn't wear nice ones today assuming you weren't going to be fucking somebody, but here you were.

the rest was done by him as he pulled down your panties, breath hitching at the sight of your wet cunt. eren licked his lips hungrily.

"wet? already? what are you, some kind of whore?"

when you only looked at him with doe eyes, he rose his voice. "well? give me an answer, slut."

his very words made something awaken in your core, and you responded with a "y-your whore, eren."

eren nodded in satisfaction, content with your answer. "you're learning."

in past experiences, you had been quite a brat to him- as he would say. constantly going up against what he wanted, trying to dominate him. but every single time he ended up pushing you back down and pounding you into the nearest surface, making you state exactly who you belonged to. but since you were being good this time, he relented.

dipping a cold finger into your folds, he collected the juices that wetted the outer lips of your cunt, savoring the warmth it provided him in contrast to his hand. in response, you jolted at the cold temperature, only for eren to hold you down by the waist to prevent too much movement.

working his fingers inside your impossibly tight cunt, he pushed in one, swirling it around in an attempt to find your sweet spot- in which he succeeded. with a hum of approval, he pushed through another finger past the bit of muscle and into your walls, placing it in the same spot the other finger was. curling his digits around that spongy spot and placing the gentlest pressure upon it. letting a pathetic whimper escape your lips, eren is quick to stop what he's doing and reach for your panties.

"w-what are you doing?" you croak, voice weak from the recent stimulation.

"shutting you the fuck up", he snapped back in response. balling up your pair of soaked panties, he stuffed them in your mouth, making you gag a little. he only smirked at the fact you were struggling. "you're just too fuckin' loud. if armin and mikasa weren't downstairs i would let you have at it, but we've gotta keep this a secret baby."

resuming what he was doing a minute ago, he moves his mouth closer to your cunt, ever so gently wrapping his lips around your delicate little clit. your hips bucked upwards as he put his two fingers in their previous spot, pumping slowly in and out.

you're only able to mumble in approval as his pumping turns languid and rough, and before you know it you're already feeling that knot that's all too familiar in your stomach. you yelp into your balled up panties that occupied your little mouth, the sound coming out muffled. erens brow raises as he removes his fingers from your fluttering cunt.

you're about to mutter something in disapproval, but eren starts talking before you. "i told you to stay quitet, princess. what don't you get about that? are you that stupid whore i thought you were? yeah, i thought so."

"'m not a stupid whore", you say, making your statement clear even though there was a piece of fabric in your mouth.

"then show it", eren demands as he slides his fingers back in, his thrusting become too quick for you to resist an orgasm, but still staying quiet so he would let you cum.

you gush all over his fingers, creamy white liquid coating his fingers as he pulls out, and places his fingers in his mouth, licking off the substance. you're reduced to a panting mess on your bed.

"that tired, are ya?" eren mocks you. "too bad. i still've got a hard cock and you're gonna take care of it." he isn't wrong. his print is easily visible in his grey sweats, at its full length and glory.

"more", you pant out. "want your cock, can handle it, eren..."

"i know you can, princess", he coos as he practically rips down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his hardened and flushed cock. the tip was tinted red, a few veins protruding through the skin on the side. he had a pretty cock indeed.

"bend over", he commands. shakily, you comply and get on all fours so that your head is near a pillow in case your legs give out. "that's'a girl."

you can feel him come up from behind you, and rub his warm tip over your cunt, making a shiver run down your spine. his size never failed to make you at least just a little bit nervous, it always hurt a bit when it went in but he prepped you well enough that it would slide in easily.

with his right hand, he grabbed the sturdy frame of the headboard, and with his left, started to push his cockhead into your tight little hole. you squealed as you felt his flesh enter you slowly, but soon sheathed his whole self in with one thrust.

"fuck- you're tight", he grunted, and removed his left hand so it was now gripping your ass. you could feel his fingernails digging into the supple skin, likely leaving red crescent marks. after eren took a deep breath or two, he started his movements. and he didn't relent.

the pace he was moving at was almost dizzying, making you let out a few high-pitched wails. his balls slapped up against your behind, lewd noises of skin on skin filling the room. he held onto the headboard, making the bed shake and creak with every new thrust he took.

"eren, eren, eren", you mumbled, completely cockdrunk by him. "more, more please".

eren smirked, his hair starting to fall out of his bun. "liking that? i knew it, you're just a whore. begging for my cock like always, just like the slut i've always known."

his words were mean, but they made you clamp around his dick, making him release a stuttered moan. were you perhaps sick for liking the way he degraded you? you didn't know and didn't care.

"s' good, 'ren", you gasped, wanting him to keep calling you these names and degrading you down to the bone. you would never let any man talk to you like that- only eren could, he did it the right way.

"i know baby, i know", he purred. "m' gonna cum, you gonna cum with me?"

"y-yes!" you shriek, feeling your second orgasm creep up on you, making your stomach do a somersault. "please 'ren! make me cum! need you filling me up!"

eren gave a dark chuckle, and threw his head back into a moan. your orgasm hit you like a truck, the pleasure taking over your entire body and making you shake uncontrollably, squealing into your pillow as your legs gave out. eren knew this was coming, so he removed his right hand from his headboard and put both of his hands under your legs to hold you out as he rode out his high. he jackhammered into you, balls tightening as the knot in his stomach finally snapped, making his cum spurt out of his tip and into your cunt. you were left immobile and speechless, drooling into your pillow as he pulled himself out and let his semen leak out from your hole and all over your sheets.

after he finished panting, he looked over to you. "you good?"

"mmph", you mumble, eren barely hearing you. you meant for that to be an affirmation.

he flipped you over so you were on your back, your sweatshirt still on your body. he cursed himself for not removing it, but there was always a next time. he smiled at your state, knowing he fucked you that good.

“you did good, princess”, he grinned, and pulled up his boxers again, and searched for his phone which he left somewhere in the room.

“eren”, you ask. “where are you going?”

“there’s a party at jeans dorm tonight. you going?”

you sigh. “no, studying for the exam. i need to pass it, maybe i’ll go next time.”

eren nodded, and walked out the door. “thanks again.”

staring up at the ceiling, you wondered how eren could always treat the fact you two fucked on the regular so casually. he always went around and flirted with other girls at parties, but never took them home.

well, it was now or never that you were going to make your move.

you grabbed your phone from your nightstand and unlocked it, your home screen being a photo of you, eren, armin and mikasa all huddled around the couch for a movie night. you opened your messaging app, and clicked on erens contact. this is where you began drafting your message.

| You: um okay hi eren! so thanks for today, it felt really good as always. but i was wondering if maybe you would want to take things further? we can go out to dinner thursday night if you’re free :)

reading it over once before sending, you pressed the blue button that sent the message to him. it took two minutes for him to read if.

the three dots in a bubble popped up on his end of the conversation. you internally panicked, wondering if this was the right choice.

| erennn: i mean don’t we fuck? don’t get me wrong u cool but i mean idk man

your heart quite literally froze at the sight of his message. the dots popped up again, and you held your breath waiting for an answer.

| erennn: so like fuckbuddies basically, that’s all i want rn so uhhhh yeah 💀

this was the exact moment you felt your heart physically sink. fuck, now you’ve embarrassed yourself. would he think your weird?

wanting to act calm and unaffected by his answer, all you wrote was one letter.

| You: k.

[hawksky]

You wake up on your ex's fire escape; wc 2.5k

A/N: I don't really know how to categorize this ? starts as funny, gets into angst with a happy/hopeful ending. I might write this again for another character and make it 0 angst but using Megumi just let this get away from me. Thank you @sixeyesgojo for reading through my first draft, it helped me edit a lot since 😘. Although I have not looked over the ending since I wrote it, I'm done working on this fic so sorry if it falls flat.

CW: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption.

Suggested listening: song 1 and song 2 you can pick just one to cater your experience (they are VERY different vibes) or switch over around the shampoo situation.

Objectively, there were good ways to wake up. In the arms of a beautiful person, with cold sheets and a warm body, or with the scent of your favourite breakfast wafting through the air. No disrespect to mornings at all, there were good ways to wake up, you were mature enough to recognize this.

A perplexingly rough, wet, and warm sensation gliding across your cheek, while last night’s jeans dug into your waist, and there was a pounding in your head? It was fairly safe to say this was not a good way to wake up.

It spoke volumes for how out of it you were that it was only just beginning to register in your brain that you weren’t at home, you were not even on a bed, and that the continued licks across your face were the work of animal far too large to be one of your friends cats.

“Fucking hell you’re supposed to be intimidating” you hear a voice grumble without much heat behind it.

As you forced your eyes open you are met with an excited dog tapping its paws in excitement of your presence, and the man behind the half hearted grumble. His gaze was unmistakably familiar, but his expression could not be more foreign to you.

“uhm, Hi” you croaked out while plastering a wide grin in hopes he wouldn’t murder you.

His eyebrow raised on instinct in response. You knew he was waiting for you to explain what you were doing, but the reality was you didn’t have an answer.

“I wish I could explain, but honestly I’m not sure what happened – last thing I remember was being bought another shot… Wait, where am I exactly?” You were desperately hoping you came off as charming instead of pathetic given the circumstances.

“How out of it are you?” he scrunched his face in confusion as he muttered to himself. “You’re on my fire escape, it’s in Ikebukuro? Tokyo… Japan, in case you needed the reminder”

It felt infantilizing to have him scold you like this, which only made this next part all the more difficult. You were not supposed to be Ikebukuro. You were not supposed to be in Tokyo. You were supposed to be in Yokohama. What was even more concerning is that you were definitely not supposed to be on your old fire escape, the one connected to the apartment your ex still lived in.

As you painstakingly pushed yourself upright, a warm weight laid on your upper thigh, a furry face nuzzling into your stomach – you wondered if she was aware of tension between you and her owner. You scratched behind her ears, letting Jade know she was in fact a good girl despite the earlier reprimand from her owner.

As much as you’d love to spend the day sitting on a fire escape petting your ex’s dog, you had to go home, you just need to call –

Your phone. Where was your phone? You felt around frantically for your phone, only to come up with nothing. A light sense of panic bubbles in the pit of your stomach, only to be swiftly interrupted.

“it’s already charging, I plugged it in last night, you dropped in inches away from falling down”

So, he was still watching you despite having returned inside long ago. It was difficult for you to parse this sort of gesture, how caring could it be to plug someone’s phone in when you still left them to sleep outside? Maybe he was just doing everything he could to get rid of you. It was too much to try and analyze for someone who blacked out and woke up in a different city.

“Why did you come here?” you hear him bite out from inside. It sounds harsh, but it feels like his stange way of inviting you inside.

“I don’t know what you’ve picked up from these circumstances, but not knowing is kind of a part of the problem. Believe me, there’s no amount of conscious desperation that would leaf me to sleeping on a fire escape, even yours”

You glanced around the apartment to avoid his void expression; it was spotless. But it was even harder noticing, the turned over picture frames, your favourite quilt still on the back of the couch – remnants of the past living in the present.

This tension only increased as a mug of freshly brewed green tea was placed in front of you. How thoughtful to remember you hated coffee, to realize your throat was probably killing you – you would have tasted a creeping bitterness from all these emotions, if it wasn’t overpowered by what was the distinct taste of your favourite brand that had to be special ordered.

He had always complained, there were plenty of good options for tea at the grocery store, why wasn’t that enough for you? It was so much extra effort to special order from a tea shop across town, the only place that you were able to charm the owner into ordering for you.

“How are you still so fucking awful at taking care of yourself?” he spat the words out like an insult, it was jarring honestly. Despite the time away from each other, it was no less strange to feel his detachment.

He moved towards the door beckoning Jade to follow. “There’s a towel and change of clothes in the bathroom, you should probably take a shower. If I’m not back by the time you leave, just lock up before you go, I haven’t moved the spare key.” Without looking back or waiting for a response he left.

You were starting to recognize your growing frustration – you had known him how long? Dated and lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time? Yet here you were, no idea how to interpret this strange morning, much less his last comment. Did he want you to be here when he returned? Were you supposed to leave and act like you had never been there? Could he genuinely be as indifferent as he wanted you to believe? It pissed you that your feelings were probably plain on your face.

You searched for your phone, finding it on what used to be your side of the couch. It felt ridiculous to think you ever had a side of the couch, but you were both creatures of habit and slowly without even thinking you both made your own little sanctuary mere metres away from each other.

You awoke your phone, expecting a flood of texts and phone calls from your friends, only to find nothing. Not a single check in from anyone. You open the group chat and furiously tap out a message.

<Hey assholes who let me go home on my own last night? Anyways good job I blacked out and I’m on Fushiguro’s fire escape! You are all absolutely useless to me I swear to god.>

Your phone vibrates rapidly as you place it down but you’re not in the mood to field their questions.

You’re tempted to leave now, just to get it over with, go home and crawl into bed and forget any of this ever happened. But, you felt gross, it was late enough in the morning that you could run into someone you knew, and you missed the water pressure here.

As you got ready for your shower you surveyed your options. You refused to smell like him, but the only other bottle in the shower was doggy shampoo. Surely dog’s fur and human hair weren’t so different right? Jade did have a beautiful coat, very soft and shiny… You reprimanded yourself for the ridiculous idea, but the point remained, there had to be something else for you to use.

Your brain, far more alert than it was 30 minutes ago, thought of all the things he hadn’t changed, all the fixtures still in place. You had always kept an extra set of all your supplies under the sink. By the grace of all that is good on this cruel cruel earth, they were there, in all their dusty glory, your prized hygiene products sat unmoved under the sink. It would have been sick and twisted to have to leave your ex-boyfriend’s apartment smelling exactly like him, left to spend the rest of the day agonizing over whether you should take another shower.

As you entered the shower you wondered more. He had to have noticed the softness in your eyes, the faint smile you wore just having an ounce of his attention again, the way ti widened at every caring gesture, and falling with every biting remark.

Yes, it hurt every day missing him. Yes, it would hurt if he hated you. But none of that compared to the feeling of not knowing. What were you supposed to do with all these residual feelings that have yet to go away? Were they worth the suffocation or should you strip them away?

You were proud of yourself, all these reminders of what you once had, in a place you once loved, and you had yet to break down, not even shedding a tear. If you weren’t wrapping yourself in a towel, you would’ve given yourself a pat on the back. This victory was short lived, everyone’s strength has its limits and you had taken yours too far past it already. But then you saw it, something you were completely unprepared for.

Laid neatly on top the closed laundry basket was THE outfit. It was nothing special to anyone else, just a grey sweater and loose joggers, but how many days had you spent alone breathing in his scent for comfort while he was gone? How many hard days at work had you reaching for these exact pieces as if they were the cure to all your problems?

Unable to support your own weight anymore, you fell to the tiled floor, tears spilling out, as your already sore throat grew even more hoarse – you felt like everything was collapsing around you. You weren’t expecting to see him, and you certainly weren’t expecting to need him in so many little ways. It was easy to forget how easily he weaves himself into your life, encroaching on everything you do.

The world disappeared behind each shallow breath, and an endless stream of tears you couldn’t control. Your fingers scratch against your forearms repeatedly, trying to ground yourself in some reality you could no longer grasp. It is so exhausting trying to be over him, going through these cycles of strong emotions, over and over and over again.

Suddenly, for the second time in as few hours, you felt an overwhelming weight encompass your body.

Of course, his stupid fucking perfect dog would still know how to bring you out of a panic attack like he had spent so much time training when you started dating. You clutched to Jade as your breathing slowed, but it did nothing to stop your sobs, if anything it was just another painful reminder of everything you let go.

“Uhhh….” Megumi was frozen at the door, for the first time today he didn’t know what to do. His indifferent façade dropped as he observed the scene on his bathroom floor.

There’s nothing left to lose, not for a moment that he has seen this morning have you possessed more than an ounce of dignity, “So that’s it? You don’t know what to do either? You know it’s been a whole fucking year and I still haven’t figured out how to live without you. A whole year and I’m still a mess. I can’t survive being reminded of us, look at me. And yet every attempt to get over you was a knife twisting because they’ll never be you. Now I’m here and I get to witness the wonderful Megumi Fushiguro, unaffected, and you… you have it all together.” You trail off, giving to him everything left in you.

You weren’t expecting the confused and indignant expression on his face, “You think this is having it together?” His voice lightly raising with each word “This place might as well be a sealed shrine to you and our relationship. I haven’t thrown a single thing out, moved any furniture, bought anything new – the only thing that’s ‘new’ is your stupid tea I keep buying even though I hate it, and for fucks sake y/n I should’ve moved out. Every part of me that looks like I have it together is just my version of a mess.” He brushes a stray strand out of your face, his own face moving far too close for this to be purely platonic anymore “y/n I’m no better off than you are, I’ve just kept everyone from looking”.

“So what are we supposed to do with all this?” Your eyes shining, naïve hope seeping through your defenses at the confirmation that he couldn’t live without you either.

“We could try again” Somehow, it wasn’t quite what you needed to hear. “I, am going to get dressed, and then we’ll talk, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He nodded lightly, pulling himself up and exiting with Jade on his heels.

Dressed in the clothes you thought would burn your skin to even touch let alone wear, you let out a long sigh as you sit on at the breakfast nook. “Look, Megumi, I need to know if you’ve worked through it, any of it? I can’t, I can’t wait another three years for you to tell me you can’t say the words I love you, that you can’t commit to more than a yearly rental, I can’t just have you here I need more security than that”

He pursed his lips, unsure of what he could say to that, how he could make sure you didn’t leave again.

“Megumi, I don’t need you to say it to me today, I don’t need you to commit to anything today, but I have to know you’ve tried that I can’t keep waiting for you”

“I… Just give me a minute, please” his voice weak pleading with you. You waited, knowing better than to rush him, laying a hand on top of his assuring him you weren’t going to run out the door.

“y/n, I’m supposed to be honest and vulnerable, I’m supposed to tell myself that people won’t abandon me just because I give them access to who I really am. I want to tell you I love you, because there’s no other explanation for feeling this way. For feeling like your eyes outshine the stars, that your mind is more brilliant than the sun. I’ve tortured myself for a year with the idea of you meeting someone who could give you everything I couldn’t, and selfishly I prayed they were awful, I wished you were miserable so I pretend the truth wasn’t real that I was not enough for you, that I couldn’t give you what you needed. I’ve never seen a loving relationship, certainly not for long enough to form memories, but I look at you and I can’t imagine anything else”

Your thumb reaches to brush away the stray tear sliding down his face as he spoke to you. Manoeuvring yourself around to be on the same side of the nook as him, you pull him into you, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck. You placed a gentle kiss into his hair before whispered into his ear “You were always enough, I just needed you to know it too.”

not not a tag list: @satosuguslut @sandyscastle