#do you listen to music when you write?

[zepskies]

Happy Sunday! Fanfic question time again! This is more general but curious if you're a plotter or a seat of the pants (or some combo) kind of writer? If you do plot, do you wait until you have the beginning, middle and end mapped out or do you start before you know your end point and hope to find it along the way?

Also, do you listen to music while you write?

Hey, lovely, Happy Sunday to you too! 💕

Ooh I love these types questions, thank you!!

1. What kind of writer am I? ✍🏽

I like the terms "Plotter" vs. "Seat of the pants" kind of writer. In the past I've called them "Architects" vs. "Adventurers."

In most respects, I consider myself a Plotter/Architect. My brain craves structure to an almost ill degree when writing. 😂 The way I beat writer's block while working on a project is by having a roadmap of what's going to happen next, and that's thanks to my outline.

It'll include plot points, scene changes, and even dialogue and parts of scene that occur to me as I'm plotting. (I don't want to forget them!) This doesn't mean that plot points won't change, or get switched around, or get chucked entirely. But if I have the blueprints of the house, I can change a window here and there, so to speak.

So for longer stories like "Never Say Goodbye," "Smoke Eater," and "Break Me Down," I had a very extensive outline that I had to sketch out entirely before I started writing. I also have outlines for longer one-shots, especially ones with multiple parts, like in the Midnight Espresso-verse.

In fact, the only stories I freeform are the shorter requests/imagines that are sent in to me.

2. Do I listen to music when I'm writing? 🎵

Girl, HELL YES. 🎶 Music is a big part of my life in general, but I need to listen to music when I write. Depending on the story, character, setting, fandom, etc., I'll listen to different kinds of music to get into the vibe of that story.

On the story/chapter post, I often include what particular song inspired me because I felt the lyrics, genre, and/or vibe encapsulated the story I was trying to create. After all, most good songs are stories themselves.

For Break Me Down, for example, I think I've shared with you that I chose "All My Living Time" by Radio Company as the series song inspo. It influenced many of the story's chapter titles. But I also listened to "If I Didn't Care," and a lot of Frank Sinatra, Mel Torme, and others in that genre to get the vibe of Ben in my head.

As another example, when I write for Jason Teague or Sam Winchester, I listen to a lot of 90s - early 2000s alt rock and grunge — like Lifehouse, Matchbox 20, Pearl Jam, Five for Fighting, Smashing Pumpkins, Avril Lavigne, etc.

Whereas for Dean Winchester...

Of course it's a lot of classic rock: Journey, Led Zeppelin, Queensryche, Whitesnake, Foreigner, Styx, Fleetwood Mac, etc. But depending on the story, I'll listen to other stuff too. In fact, I often create specific playlists for different stories and series.

BTW: If you ever want a playlist for a story I've written, let me know! I think that would be a really fun project to put together.

Thank you so much for asking! And sorry, I got a bit long-winded again. 😅 Can I toss these questions back at you @luci-in-trenchcoats...

Are you a plotter/architect or an adventurer/freeformer? And if you listen to music when you write, what does that look like for you? I love hearing about other writers' processes. 💓💓

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Omg I loved your herald viktor epic line idea I’ve been thinking about it nonstop. If u have time and energy id love to read it sooo much ❤️❤️

Since the Ithica Saga dropped last night my brain has not known a single moment of peace. "Would You Fall in Love with Me Again" is just so insanely perfect for a Machine Herald Viktor x Reader AU it makes me physically ill. Like, seriously:

I am not the man you fell in love with

I am not the man you once adored

//

Would you fall in love with me again

If you knew all I've done?

The things I cannot change

Would you love me all the same?

//

Would you fall in love with me again

If you knew all I've done?

The things I can't undo

I'm not the man you knew

Viktor is so Odysseus coded it is PAINFUL. The pain of sacrificing so much of himself to survive. The regret of everyone he's had to leave behind, to betray. The ghosts of his legacy haunting his mind. All for his goal, the one thing he knows he's meant to do with every fiber of his being. Nothing, neither magic nor gods, will stop him from fulfilling that dream. He will not be the same once all has passed, and he will never regain all that he's lost. Can the person who loved him the most as he was before still love this version of him?

And the reader's answer...

I will fall in love with you

Over and over again

I don't care how, where, or when

No matter how long it's been

You're mine

Because what you loved about him is deeper than any of the ways he's changed. It's something at his core, in his soul, in the light of his eyes, no matter how tired they may seem now. It's your first kiss, it's the sound of his voice in your ear, it's the curve of his lips when he smirks, it's the way he looks at you like he falls in love all over again every day you're with him. Time may pass, and the world may change, but not this. Never this.

He is yours just as you are his, and that is the one thing that will never change.

[corellianhounds]

Some headcanons for Mando:

Anything he uses to shower or wash his clothes with is unscented. Those scent-neutralizer dryer sheets keep his clothes from smelling like anything that can be detected while he’s on a hunt. Very few species are exempt from being unable to detect him

He keeps a clean ship and a strict schedule. He’s been self-sufficient and on his own for long enough he knows how to cook and take care of himself. Keeping your tools, gear, weapons, armor, and ship in clean, efficient working order means you’re less likely to have to spend time fixing one of them when it breaks from your lack of routine maintenance, and his body is just another tool in his arsenal; sleep, food, necessary medical care, staying limber and getting vitamin D at some point all go a long way towards ensuring he can last longer in the field. You can’t run something ragged every day and expect for that to be sustainable.

That also means he’s well-equipped to handle long stints without different necessities when needed from time to time; you can push yourself pretty far when you’re already in prime condition.

Wilderness survival skills were some of the first things he learned while being brought up by the Mandalorians. Being aware of your surroundings, setting up and breaking down camp, foraging and hunting for food, building impromptu shelters, purifying water, navigating and tracking, having a variety of general and specific medical knowledge— All of those skills are building blocks for self-sufficiency. You never know when you’re going to be alone or thrust into survival scenarios, so it pays to be prepared.

That also means he’s capable of stomaching a wide variety of what some might consider inedible. Beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s rude to decline someone’s offer of food or hospitality so in any scenario where food is in short supply and/or it’s been offered to him, he’s taking it. As long as it’s something he knows humans can digest, he’s open to whatever cultural or regional dishes his travels have to offer, and he’ll muscle through the less pleasant tastes or textures of food he’s had to make do with when he didn’t have other options.

He does know how to make food taste good, but that more often than not requires more spices and ingredients and hardware than he can afford or spare the room for, so he makes do without. Once the kid comes along he branches out a bit more to make sure he gets some variety.

Along the lines of self-sufficiency and independence, he has a lot of general repair skills: you may not always have somebody who can fix things for you, and he obviously isn’t going to pay somebody else to do something he’s capable of learning, except for when he’s short on time or resources. We see him working on the interior circuitry of his armor in the second episode. He knows how to bypass and pick locks. He has the electrical, mechanical, and structural know-how to fix his ship and would know how to weld and use a torch cutter and a variety of other tools, but it also means he’d know how to sew and mend his clothes. Soft goods are just as necessary as hardware.

Injuries where he genuinely needs professional medical care are few and far in between partially because he’s very good at what he does, and partially out of necessity. Though it is by choice, him tending to his own wounds may not necessarily be because he is neglectful or prideful or has a penchant for pain; medcenters cost money, and submitting to that care means he is vulnerable and at risk of somebody breaking his creed by force, or doing more damage when he can’t fight back. It’s why he likely refuses anesthesia or anything that will put him under and make him unaware of what’s happening while he’s asleep. Either he will find somebody he’s close to to help him, or he will find a way to muscle through self-administered medical care yet again, or he will die from his injuries (which means he will have gone down because of a fight)

Though he has a few physical reference materials and logs he’s written down important details in, a vast majority of his knowledge concerning trade routes, ballistics, geography, maps, various customs and cultures and languages, Guild bylaws— anything he could possibly need to know for a hunt— is committed to memory. He travels light, and the Mandalorians have an oral history more than a written one; belongings and archives can be destroyed, but their people live on and carry the knowledge that’s been passed down through centuries. It just makes more sense to him to commit everything to memory.

That being said, he does a significant amount of research before each hunt anyway, though the bulk of it is centered around the target themselves. Having all of your prep work done means the acquisition itself will go smoother.

He’s mathematically sharp: engine repair, manual piloting, vector calculus, electrical work, ballistics, basic engineering, weapons maintenance, financial management, and navigation by maps or by stars take a lot of mental acuity to understand and apply as quickly as he usually has to use them.

He’s not going to back down from others who purposefully encroach on his personal space, but he dislikes being in close proximity to strangers for extended periods of time. So much of his life is spent evading threats and fighting off challengers it’s hard to trust anybody to be that close. It’s not an aversion so much as it is an irritation that makes him tense. When you’re always looking over your shoulder, it’s just reflex to act defensively.

He doesn’t drink alcohol or caf unless he has sufficient time and he’s secure in the Crest without worry of attack; both impede his marksmanship and reflexes, neither of which are things he can afford while he’s working, so it’s usually only when he’s traveling through space that he’ll indulge

He doesn’t sing, but once the kid comes along he’s found that it’s easier to get him to sleep when he hums as he holds him and walks around the cargo hold.

[eri-pl]

My dear mutuals, I just realized something.

So, there's been talk recently about breaking Papita out of Mandos and I suppose more of us may need help at some point... but we need one fundamental thing if we are to be able to save one another from some terrible prison (or, idk, recognize each other in a supermarket...):

we need to have a song in common

Like, seriously, the default scheme for breaking someone out from somewhere is: character A start singing, character joins them, character A finds character B and gets them out. Except...

I'm not sure there's any song I could sing together with any of you.

We need to make a list of songs that we all know well enough. Seriously.

[butterflysonnets]

all i can imagine right now is teenage theo’s stupid gay ass listening to the 2004 re-release of mr. brightside by the killers (because, yknow, vegas) on repeat while bitching about kotku in his stupider gayer journal and then having an internal crisis wondering why mr. brightside speaks to him so viscerally

[bedforddanes75]

fucking crying at swifties posting her lyrics and talking about "shes such a poet" "this clears _" and i read them and its like. "i killed your mother but shes always gonna be mom like bomb because youre bombs to my heart" or something Like please you arent helping yourselves

[shorlinesorrows]

sometimes I run into discourse about The Odyssey vs. EPIC: The Musical and I get tired

this is why I think we need to start taking a more oral tradition approach to stories like the Odyssey tbh, and I'd argue stories in general

The original and the adaptation being different, or the characters being different, doesn't make one or the other Wrong.

EPIC isn't claiming to be a direct retelling of the Odyssey, and the Odyssey doesn't need to be put under a moral microscope just to prove that "Odysseus was a Bad Guy Actually i can't believe you like EPIC" or "The Actual moral of everything is This."

Analysis is good, but we don't have to do it to spite other people's enjoyment of a piece of art!

One of the most beautiful things about many oral traditions is that the story changes over time. It grows to fit the ideas and needs of the people it's being told to and the place it's being told in. Each storyteller remembers different details more vividly, or adds a little flair, or forgets a few words, or adds a few words, and it grows.

EPIC doesn't have to be the Odyssey, and the Odyssey doesn't have to be EPIC. Enjoy them both. Adaptations and spins off of stories aren't a bad thing in themselves, even if they're different.

Heck, the Odyssey was almost Definitely an adaptation, conglomeration, or re-telling of other stories that were told orally before it was written down. And I'd bet that it continued to evolve and change even after it was put to paper. I highly doubt The Odyssey the only version of this story there was, long before our time.

It's fine if you dislike one or the other in any adaptation! Hell knows I've absolutely despised some adaptations of media i enjoyed in the past. That's not a bad thing. But one story isn't objectively morally better or worse compared to another in adaptations.

Basically, my whole point is that both the Odyssey and EPIC are Great to me personally, but they aren't completely the same thing and that's what makes them great.

And I think people maybe need to be ok with that!

[mellotronmkll]

Okay I might be in a bad mood today but I just got so mad because I saw someone on rym complain on the reviews of a particular recording that the rite of spring (of all pieces) is a little too intense to be good background music for studying. and they had to detract a point for this. now I don't mean to sound pretentious because there's nothing wrong with studying to classical music and you don't have to like every piece of music but complaining it's not a good piece of music because it's distracting to you while you're trying to study. You know I wonder if that's because this piece of music was.....I don't know and maybe this is a crazy idea. Meant to be fucking listened to. This might be insane but I wonder if stravinsky did in fact go into composing it with more than the sole intention of just providing a piece of studyblr background music. Just a thought

[mumms-the-word]

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 2

Ch. 2 - The Launch

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: Gale is meeting the team and the submersible is about to launch! For those curious about where a certain pale vampire is, don't worry. He's around here somewhere. Also, have some mood music!

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Lord Enver Gortash. It wasn’t a name that Gale immediately recognized, but the man carried himself with an air of confidence and self-importance that was impossible to deny. Whoever he was to the city of Baldur’s Gate, it was someone of significance.

Gortash straightened from his subtle bow to offer Gale another charismatic smile. “I’m in charge of this little expedition, at the behest of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard himself. It has been a lifelong dream of mine—and his—to locate the fabled Nautera. When we heard that there was an ancient record of the islands and that there might be a man capable of reading and deciphering it—well, it was practically a dream come true. We wasted no time in organizing this expedition to seek out the fabled city. Rest assured, I’ve gathered only the finest to ensure our success. Including you, naturally. You’ve come highly recommended.”

Gale struggled to keep up. Recommended by who, Elminster? And how did this man know about the Account when not even Gale had been certain it still existed until only a few short days ago? And Ravengard—that was a Baldurian name, if he recalled. One of four Grand Dukes that ruled the city. If this was a Baldurian expedition, why had Elminster arranged for him to join? Then again, perhaps he ought not to look a gift submersible in the mouth...

He set those concerns aside for now. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Gortash.” 

“Likewise.” Gortash snapped his fingers at the drow woman. “Minthara. Gather the others will you? We can have a little debrief before we launch.”

Gale didn’t miss the withering look Minthara shot at the back of Gortash’s head, but she turned and left even so. In the meantime, Gortash gestured toward the githyanki, who was watching them both with a sour expression, her arms still crossed over her chest.

“This is—”

“I am capable of introducing myself, istik,” she said, cutting her eyes briefly at Gortash before settling her gaze back on Gale. She straightened and lifted her chin. “I am Lae’zel of K’liir. No doubt I will be this expedition’s strongest fighter, should the need arise.”

“Lae’zel is here to offer her people’s expertise on Nautera,” Gortash said, appearing unruffled by her interruption. “The libraries of K’liir contained quite a few tir’su slates with accounts of the islands. I’m sure the two of you will have much to discuss as we draw closer to the city.”

“Truly?” Gale couldn’t help but be intrigued. “I confess, I’ve always wanted to learn tir’su. No doubt time in your company will prove valuable to us both.”

“Save your words, istik,” she said, settling back against the table and folding her arms again. “I offer only that which is necessary, be it in words or with blades. I do not chatter.” 

“Ah…duly noted.” 

Gortash chuckled. “Don’t mind her. She’s like that with everyone. Ah, here we have our healers. This is Halsin Silverbough of the Emerald Grove and Shadowheart, a cleric who has offered her services to the cause.”

“You must be the translator we’ve been waiting for,” Halsin said, nodding to him. “Well met.”

“Funny,” Shadowheart said, looking Gale up and down. “I thought you’d be more…”

“More…what?” Gale tilted his head. “Dashing? Roguish? Elegantly dressed?”

She pursed her lips. “More of a peacock, I suppose. Your reputation precedes you.” Her gaze settled briefly on his silver Mystran earring before returning to his face.

“Ah. I dare not ask which reputation you’re referring to, if that’s the case,” he said, laughing somewhat awkwardly. He could just imagine what the others had heard about him by now, especially if Elminster had arranged for him to join up.

But just as she noticed his earring, he couldn’t help but notice the symbol on the circlet she wore over her hair—a round black disk like a new moon. Any follower of Mystra would recognize that symbol. It was the mark of Shar, one of Mystra’s longest and most relentless divine enemies. The two goddesses absolutely hated each other.

Curious that there would be a Sharran cleric on board. But if she was here as a healer, perhaps she intended to do no harm. Or so he hoped. He offered her his most charming smile and a little bow.

“Rest assured, I’m more than happy to offer my services to the expedition. The discovery of Nautera is not something a man simply passes up.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gortash said, flashing him a quick grin. “Ah, and I know you’ve met Karlach.”

“Hello again, Gale,” Karlach said, giving him a little wave. He waved back.

“And this is young Wyll Ravengard, son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard.”

“At your service.” The young man bowed gracefully before rising and offering Gale a smile. Gale noticed that one of his eyes had been replaced with a smooth, stone eye and that there were several scars on his face and neck.

For a young son of a grand duke, Wyll didn’t look the part. This man had clearly seen trials the like most could only find in their nightmares. Still, it was curious that he was here. From what little Gale recalled of Baldurian nobility, Ulder Ravengard only had one son, and this expedition was sure to be dangerous at times.

Wyll's presence must be a hint of Ravengard’s confidence in the success of the expedition...or else there was some other, darker reason no one dared to name. Gale hoped it meant the former.

“And finally,” Gortash said, as the drow woman returned to the table, “allow me to introduce our general, Minthara of House Baenre. She has brought with her a retinue of drow scouts and soldiers that will no doubt be invaluable as we explore any Underdark passages along the way.”

“I also serve as the second-in-command for this expedition,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “And I suffer no disobedience of any kind. If you will not listen to Lord Gortash, you will listen to me. Is that clear?”

“As crystal,” Gale said, trying to look sincere. He glanced around the group, trying to match faces with names and names with occupations. Gortash, the lord and leader. Minthara, the general. Karlach, the bodyguard. Wyll, the young noble. Halsin, the druid healer. Shadowheart, the cleric. And Lae’zel, the githyanki soldier and tir’su expert.

An ecclectic group if he ever saw one. He couldn’t fathom why half of them cared about finding the ruins of an ancient city. At worst they would find nothing, save perhaps stone blocks and broken pottery, and at best they’d locate ancient writings, perhaps a rare fragment of the legendary mythallar. Gale knew what he wanted out of the trip—answers about Nautera and its relationship with Netheril as well as the pride in knowing he had proven generations of Candlekeep scholars wrong—but he dared not wonder why the rest were interested.

Perhaps it was better that he did not know…for now.

“Now,” Gortash said, clasping his hands together. “There are plenty more important people to meet but you can make those introductions along the way. We had best be off. Gale, you will be sharing a bunk with Halsin and Wyll while aboard the submersible. I trust they can show you the way?” At Wyll and Halsin’s nods, he continued, “Splendid. Everyone, we will meet at the helm in exactly one hour. If you’re not inside the submersible, you’ll be left behind. And, Gale…” 

Gale paused just as he was turning away to follow Wyll and Halsin down toward the submersible. He faced Gortash again, finding himself caught beneath the Baldurian lord’s dark, unreadable gaze. Gortash’s smile, however, was as charming and practiced as ever.

“Bring your little book. We’ll have need of it.”

-----

The interior of the submersible was nearly all metal. Metal sheets, metal pipes, metal grates, metal bolts. If it wasn’t metal, it was thick glass that peered out into the blue depths beyond. While not entirely unwelcoming, it was certainly different from the creature comforts Gale was used to in his Waterdhavian wizard’s tower.

The bunks, at least, looked passably comfortable, though Gale was a bit disappointed that there was no chance of a private room. Still, Wyll and Halsin seemed sensible, even friendly company.

“How does a young noble and a druid come to join an expedition like this?” he asked them as he dropped his pack onto the only available bed in the room. It was little more than a narrow padded mattress with a thin pillow and a blanket folded at one end, but it was his now.

Wyll, leaning against a ladder-like set of rungs that led to a bunk over Gale’s, gave a light shrug. “It’s a legendary city at the bottom of the sea, like a fairy story of old. What's not to enjoy? I wanted to see it for myself and my father was only too happy to negotiate a place for me...so here I am.”

Gale noticed a shift in Wyll’s voice at his last sentence, but couldn’t quite discern the meaning or emotion. Wyll’s pleasant expression and soft smile were polite, but impenetrable. If there was more to his tale than he was letting on, there was no way for Gale to know it.

“I take it you’re interested in the legends and the history of Nautera, then?” Gale asked.

“Only what I don’t already know. I’ve heard the stories, of course.” Wyll began to gesture with his hands, as if painting the scene. “A fabled city on a distant island, home to a thousand wonders of every kind. Flying ships, walking stone creatures, marvels and magic and more. Only for it to disappear over the span of a single day. One day it’s there, another island in the vast sea, and the next—” he snapped his fingers, “—gone. Not even a rock jutting up from the water to suggest it was ever there.” 

He smiled and dropped his hands, shrugging. “They say the person who finds Nautera will be granted one wish, whatever their heart desires. But I’m not so sure that’s true.”

“Perhaps not, but there are always elements of truth even in the midst of a fairy story or a legend,” Gale said. “Perhaps wishes were granted there, back when it was above water.” 

He turned to Halsin, who was seated on the bunk opposite, his wooden staff resting on his knees. “What of you? I’m surprised to see a druid of the forests showing an interest in an underwater city.”

Halsin smiled faintly. “It is odd, and this…submersible is unnatural to me. But I was told there was a need for a healer, and I have been many strange places in my modest life. To see the ruins of a civilization that predates my own people…such marvels are not to be ignored, I think. I am here to be of service and to satisfy my own curiosity.”

“Then our interests align. Though I hope we will not need to rely on your services too much, Master Halsin.”

“Just Halsin, please,” the old druid said, chuckling. “And I agree. Though if the need arises, I can be useful in other ways.”

Before he could explain further, there was a sharp knock just outside the bunk room. A young man in uniform leaned in through the open doorway. “Saers, you’re wanted at the helm. We’re to launch in a few minutes.”

“We’ll be right there,” Wyll responded, and the young man disappeared. Wyll took a deep breath and turned to smile at Gale and Halsin. “We’d best be off. I hear the best place to witness a submersible launch is at the front.”

He and Halsin ducked out of the room, the tall elf literally hunching to make it through the rounded, low doorframe. Gale made sure to retrieve the Nauterran Account and tuck it carefully into his satchel, alongside his spellbook and a few other supplies, before following them out of the bunk room. 

The helm featured an impressive array of controls, dials, levers, and gauges, all manned by various pilots, including one surly-looking blonde dwarf at the very front. Overhead, bolted sheets of metal made up part of the sloping, dome-like ceiling before transitioning to curving panels of thick, reinforced glass between metal bars, giving them a clear view of everything immediately ahead and above them, and a fair view of the sides too. At the center of the room, a large, curving, mahogany desk and a surprisingly plush chair took up much of the space, looking elegant yet out of place, as if they had been teleported in from someone’s office back in the city. Someone had laid out several maps and navigation tools on the surface. The chair was unoccupied at the moment, but Gortash stood just to the side of it, hands clasped behind his back, watching the pilots work. 

A few paces away, Karlach shifted restlessly on her feet, tapping her fingers against her thigh and turning her head this way and that, as if trying to catch all the action going around her. Minthara, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart stood nearby, with Lae’zel and Shadowheart eyeing each other darkly and Minthara ignoring both of them to stare over the head of a gnome pilot messing with specific controls.

Gortash glanced over his shoulder and noticed the three of them entering. “Ah, good. You’re here, just in time to watch the magic happen. So to speak,” he added, sending a grin Gale’s way. 

Before Gale could respond, Gortash turned away and directed his next words to the blonde dwarf at the front of the room, where a big metal ship’s wheel was waiting. “Redhammer, begin the launch and take us out to the open sea.”

“Aye, saer.” The dwarf pulled one of the levers and took the wheel. “Commencing launch.”

All around the room, various pilots began to flip switches, pull levers, and turn wheels, calling out responses or numbers that Gale could make no sense of and watching various screens and gauges as they worked. He felt the floor beneath him shudder as distant engines roared to life, the dull rumble and vibrations reaching them even there in the helm. The excitement in the room was palpable. Gale’s heart began to pound and his blood began to race through his veins, all in anticipation of the launch. 

All at once the entire submersible gave a downward lurch, as if being dropped or let go, and a flurry of bubbles billowed up against the glass. Gale moved to a free space near one of the windows, out of the way of the pilots, watching as more curtains of bubbles bounced and twirled upward as the seacraft began to lower gently away from the docks. He felt his ears pop as they sank lower and lower and began to turn away toward the deeper blue of the ocean depths.

No turning back now.

“Watch those power gauges, boys,” Redhammer said, directing his fellow pilots. “Steady now. Increase engines one and three and bring them to thirty percent.”

The rumble from the engines louder grew until it was a sonorous thrum in the background, the vibrations beneath Gale’s boots now a constant drone. Outside the submersible, the massive metal fins on either side came to life, frightening and scattering several fish that had ventured too close. He felt the seacraft tilt and adjust before it fell into a steady, subtle rocking pattern, like that of an undulating whale, as it began to move forward. It wasn’t unlike the rocking of a ship on the sea, though perhaps more regulated. 

As they moved away from the docks and out toward the open expanse of the ocean depths, they cut through fronds of thick, towering kelp, sending fish and other creatures fleeing through the waving undersea plants. It was surreal to watch the underwater world pass by them through the windows of the submersible, almost as if he were seeing merely illusion rather than reality.

“Whoa…” He turned to see that Karlach had joined him at a nearby window, staring out of it in wide-eyed wonder. Her glowing eyes were even more alight as she took in the waving plants, the fish, and the bubbles as they moved through the water. “We’re really doing this…”

Her wonder bolstered his own and he offered her a somewhat crooked smile. “Nervous?”

She glanced sidelong at him and laughed. “Too late for that now, soldier. Besides, Gortash doesn’t pay me to be nervous.”

Redhammer’s voice called out again. “All engines to forty-five percent. Take us down ten degrees down-angle and hold us steady.”

Working in tandem, the pilots pivoted the seacraft and maneuvered it downward, increasing the speed until they were moving along at a noticeable clip. The kelp forest quickly gave way to rocky reefs with sparse coral and from there to gray, silty sand that disappeared into darkness the farther they descended. The sunlight overhead grew fainter and fainter until at last they were enveloped by inky blue and cobalt, the waters ahead illuminated only by the brilliant enchanted lights that shone outward from the front of the submersible. 

Beyond the reach of the seacraft’s lights, the depths below beckoned, looking like a vast, empty void of velvet black. Gale held tighter to his satchel, his eyes on the dark waters ahead. He was loathe to pray to any goddess other than Mystra—and even she hadn’t been listening to his prayers lately—but he was tempted to offer a meek prayer to Umberlee, the chaotic goddess of the seas. They were in her territory, after all...

And at the mercy of her infamously temperamental whims. The darkness of the depths was a tangible reminder of their tentative place in her domain, because, as any Waterdhavian knew, the Bitch Queen was more than capable of summoning a creature from the depths to sink a ship.

A massive submersible diving into her depths would only be that much more annoying to her, and that much more susceptible to destruction. Gale could only hope her attention was diverted elsewhere.

[pardonmydelays]

gonna kill the minotaur now wish me luck

[mixtapedoh]

✩⡱ spotify wrapped writing event !

it's the most insufferable time of the year for people like me ♡

🎧🎙️💀— send me any idol from the groups i actively follow & a number from 1-100 and i will go to my spotify wrapped and write you a headcanon set or drabble with the accompanying ~ mystery song vibes~

all writing will be posted beginning the last two weeks of december!

available numbers are under the cut ♡

1-9 available 10 & dino (svt) 11-24 available 25 & jeonghan (svt) 26-46 available 47 & dk (svt) 48-100 available

[im-still-a-robot]

Free to use!

Happy Valentine's day! Year 4 of doing these, and while this year was a little stressful, it was still very fun. Hope you all enjoy!

Links to stuffed animals (+ an extra!) in reblogs

[someforeignband]

this upcoming segment of wlw steddie features ~Eddie’s mom~

who’s excited 😀

[dreamnotnapss]

man this clip represents snf's dynamic so well :') Sapnap asking for affection from George, George baiting him into thinking he's getting it, Sapnap inevitably falling for it bc he thinks this is one of those moments that George will give it to him, George juking him, Sapnap not taking that for an answer and touching his hand anyway, and George being displeased that Sapnap got his way and ripping his hand away. and then they both turn away, Sapnap with a satisfied and soft smile, and George with a miffed smile

that classic back and forth of trying to get the upper hand... that's them your honor

[itsalwaysdark]

i was gonna make a post abt how i dont rly like like. Genre changing covers of songs and then realized upon introspection is that i sort of just dont like rock covers of songs generally

[ssolessurvivor]

𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑰 𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑶𝑪𝑰𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬 ( + romance )

{volume 2}

never been in love : haley mae campbell

so it goes : taylor swift

love me harder : ariana grande & the weeknd

love you again : chase matthew

love me like that : katherine mcnamara

body say : demi lovato

tagged by : myself for round 2

tagging : @memento-mamu @buckdont @apurekindness (or for cen too you can pick who ❤️) @soulwaned (bea or june) @turkicgods (matyr) @reidinthedeep @adversitybloomed and you!