#i forgot the tag i use 4 asks..... whoops

[wishi-selfships]

WISHIII I LOVED THE GABI LORE OH MY GOSH;;; I really enjoy your descriptions, they are super clear and straight to the point + THE AMOUNT OF DETAIL THAT WENT INTO IT?? Genuinely impressive, now I want to see her actually use the abilities!! Especially mesmerized by the Weakness Point and Bullseye - they sound so dang fun😭 both to use and actually witness!! Lololol

AND YOUR DOODLES GOING ALONG WITH IT WERE SO CUTIE PIEEEE they really helped me imagine visually how cool Gabi and Swihi (LOVE THE NAME BTW... its fun to say!!!) are <33 LOVELY WORK AND THANK YOU FOR SHARING IT WITH US!!! 🫶❤️❤️

^^ me reading this btw

GWEHEHE FLAAAAAKE THANK UUU 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽!!!!

Ehege I'm so happy u likeded itt♡♡♡♡ CAUSE I PUT ALOT OF WORK N THOUGHT INTO IT !!!! Been stewing on it for a while and even since then I've got new ideas in mind 💭💭 So seeing that u read it and enjoyed it,,,,aaAAA touched my heart =w=♡♡

Also like real talk I got extremely happy when I saw the notifications and noticed that u liked them ,,,, ik if nobody has me, tumblr user takasgf does 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

[xjaylyn]

PART 3 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: Its been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

a/n: It's a really long chapter like 2 chapters long because I will be out of town for a few days and probably wont have time to update. But I will try if I have some free time. Chapter 4 will be shorter.

"This is it,"

Mike pulls into an apartment complex. At a glance, you can tell it's a quiet place, slightly run down; not many people living here. Getting out of the car, the duo follows Armando to his unit. Unlocking the door, Armando steps inside and turns the light on, it flickering slightly for a second before focusing. His place is small, about the size of a hotel suite, with a small kitchen barely able to fit two people. Tight space but enough for someone who doesn't own much but himself anyway.

"I just need to pack some things and we can head out... don't touch nothing," Armando says while walking into his room. Still standing by the front door, Mike and Marcus look around the place.

"Barely looks lived in... well shit, at least he has a TV," Marcus says, walking towards the small couch to take a seat. Mike steps towards the kitchen, opening the small fridge to see barely anything in there: only a couple of water bottles and simple ingredients to make a sandwich, but that was it. Closing the door, he spots something in the corner on the counter: two small cut-out pictures. One of Armando's mother, Isabel, and one of him. Feeling his chest tighten, he gently places the photos back in the corner.

Hearing Armando walk back into the small space, he steps out of the kitchen. "Nephew, what games you play on here?" Marcus asks, pointing at the PlayStation lying next to the small TV.

Armando looks at the man, raises his brow, "why is that important?"

"Because if it's Call of Duty I'll whoop yo ass, what's your tag?" Adjusting the bag strap on his shoulder, Armando turns his body completely towards his uncle, "What's your rank?"

"Diamond 3 rank 2," Marcus says, crossing his arms.

Scoffing with a smirk on his face, Armando just shakes his head. Dropping his arms, Marcus furrows his brows, "what? What's so funny 'bout that?"

"Nothing, but you ain't whooping nobody ass with that weak ass rank," Armando says, walking up to the door.

"Oh, you a lil disrespectful motherfucker, alright, we gon' see 'bout that," Marcus follows behind him, pointing his finger at the young man walking out the door. "Mike, he just don't know how I do."

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

Four hours into the ride, the three of them sat in peaceful silence. Armando looks at the two in the front, Mike focused on driving and Marcus knocked out, snoring a little bit. Looking at his father, he decides to break the silence.

"What's the mission?" he asks.

Mike glances in the rearview mirror, "Apparently the biggest case the government has ever had... was told you might know something about it."

"I don't know why your people think I know it all, I only worked on what my mother told me to do... she's the one with the answers," Armando shrugs.

"Well, that's fine... we have someone that may know something to help us out... we're picking her up when we arrive in Miami."

Nodding his head, he looks down at the back seat noticing a file sitting beside him. "That's the case file, you can look through it and see if you find something you might recognize."

Picking up the file, he skims through everything. Besides the people he has worked with in the past, he's not sure about everything else. Shaking his head, he looks back up at his father, "Nah, I don't know."

Another silence falls upon the two. Clearing his throat, Mike decides to fill Armando in on the past 2 years. "Things have been normal since the last mission... thank you, by the way, for helping clear Cap's name-"

"I didn't have much of a choice," Armando interrupts, raising a brow.

"Yeah, well, thank you anyway..." Another silence falls between the two. Clearing his throat, Mike decides to try for a conversation again. "You have a baby sister," Mike mentions, glancing at Armando through the rearview mirror to see his face.

Armando looks up at him, making eye contact but doesn't say a word.

"Yeah, uh, she just turned one yesterday... cutest thing too... she loves anybody that gives her food," Mike laughs. Dropping his hand, he digs in his pocket for his wallet. Opening it up, he reaches back to give it to Armando.

Taking the wallet from him, Armando sees a picture of a baby girl. 'Cute.' Mike notices how Armando's face slightly softens. It wasn't a big facial expression, but you can tell it did something to him. Looking at the picture a little more, his attention looks down to another photo, it was old... one of him as a baby. Closing the wallet, he hands it back to his father.

"Congrats," Armando says, cutting the one-sided conversation to an end and looking out the window watching everything pass by.

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

...MIAMI...

Finally arriving at their destination, Mike pulls into the private base, security guarding every corner. Stopping at the gate, Mike and Marcus show their badges. The guard nods and lets them through. Getting out of the car, the three notice Chief Paul Nicola and a couple of guards walking towards them.

"Glad to see you all are here. This way, please," Paul extends his arm out, leading the small group into the private building. "For the past six months, we have kept our informant in max security... she was found in uniform so she is to be kept chained up as we do not know exactly what she is capable of. She has agreed to only speak to the people working with her to negotiate a deal," Paul says while scanning his ID to enter a private area in the building.

Stopping at a door, Paul turns to the trio. "Please don't fuck this up."

Allowing the men to step into the room, there's only one source of light from a small window making it dim. In the center of the room, they see a table and a person sitting down completely covered head to toe in chains that are bolted into the floor—securely fastened to ensure no way to escape.

The trio takes a seat at the table. A guard standing in the corner walks up to unlock the headlock. The sound of the metal mask dropping to the floor echoes through the room. She has a disheveled look to her: curly hair matted and covering some of her features, faded bruises on her face, and a busted lip. Looking into her eyes, they see she is scared and nervous. She stares at the men in front of her uncertainly.

Marcus clears his throat and softly speaks up, "Okay... I'm Detective Marcus Burnett and this is my partner Detective Mike Lowery and Armando." He points to his left and right where Mike nods at her and Armando just stares. "We know you know something that we need to know to get this shit together. So what is it that you need us to do for us to help each other?" Marcus asks, cutting straight to the chase.

The woman continues to stare at the men in front of her before nodding her head towards the guard behind her. "Get him out first."

Looking up at the guard, Mike waves his hand in a shooing motion. "We'll be good, sir," smiling at the guard who hesitates for a second before stepping out. Hearing the heavy door close, she starts, "I need one thing guaranteed to me."

"Layla Batiste... I need one of you to free her... she should be in the 7th cell on the right. Free her and give her anything she needs to make a living," the woman says, her voice shaking a bit.

"Okay, and who is this Layla? Why do we need to free her?" Mike questions.

"My sister... just agree to do that and we have a deal," she pleads, looking at Mike. "And write it down too so you don't forget... Layla Bat-"

"Batiste, 7th cell on the right. Yeah, I got it," Mike says, leaning back in his chair. "Done. Now, what do you know? Actually, what is your name before anything?"

Taking a breath, the woman sits back in her seat. "My name is Rya," she says.

"Okay, Rya, what do you know?"

"Do we have a deal?" Rya presses.

"Yes, we have a deal. We free Layla and you help us. Done. Sealed," Marcus says, leaning forward on the table. Armando just sits back with his arms crossed, watching the whole ordeal.

"You were captured by our military in a uniform... what were you doing in uniform?" Marcus questions.

Rya looks at Marcus then looks down. "I have been a prisoner since I was 10... a way for my parents to pay their debt... he sends us on missions as decoys... I was sent there as a distraction and ended up being caught."

Armando raises a brow at her wording, leaning forward to make his presence known. "Who's he?" he asks, looking at her with a hard expression.

Looking up, Rya makes eye contact with the brown eyes staring at her. She can tell he is studying her, looking for any reason not to trust her and her words. "A man named Sergio... he's dangerous and powerful. His family for decades has been a part of this big project to take over the world. For reasons I don't know... I just know his kind is powerful... and it's not just him. He has the military, doctors, scientists, judges, governments in different countries working for him. Any influence you can think of, he has someone there working for him. It's a world operation that has been growing nonstop... he's just the center of it."

The three men look at the girl in front of them and then at each other, taking in the information given to them. Mike looks back at the girl. "So why help us... what's in it for you?" he questions. She pauses for a second. "No one wants to be locked up and held captive for the rest of their life... this is my only chance and I can't do it by myself. I need your help." She looks at the men in front of her, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Hey, we are here to help as long as you can help us... you said he has connections everywhere... is there any place that you know that we can look into to gather evidence or something?" Marcus asks. Rya nods her head, closing her eyes to hold the tears back. "He has these liquid drops he's creating that's a mixture of different drugs and chemicals... there's a place on the strip... an abandoned lot that no one looks into, that's where he makes some of it."

"You know the exact place and where these drops would be?" Mike asks. Rya nods her head yes.

Slapping his hands on the table, Mike stands up looking down at the young girl. "Well, let's take a look at his little operation and make some shit happen." The three men make their way out of the room. Paul, standing in the hall on his phone, looks up as he hears the door open. Quickly putting his phone away, he walks towards the trio. "So what do we got?" He asks, putting his hands in his pocket, looking back and forth at them.

"The man we're looking for is Sergio. His family is the center of this operation and has connections everywhere. She said there's a secret lab on the strip. Claims he's making liquid drops laced with different drugs. We're gonna check it out and build up the case," Marcus says.

"Okay, good, we have something... I'm going to release her to you guys. Make sure she is protected at all costs. We can't afford to lose her," Paul tells them before walking off.

"Well... now we're babysitting... great."

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

Walking out of the building, Paul and two guards on each side of Rya, her hands and feet cuffed. She looks up at the sky, squinting her eyes, and takes a deep breath, finally getting fresh air and light after being confined in a tight cell for 6 months. Looking down, she sees the three men from earlier standing by a car, waiting for her. She wasn't lying when she said Sergio is a dangerous man... his nickname to the people was "The Devil". With the type of connections he has, it's considered damn near impossible to take him down. But still, with the right people and enough evidence... there's a chance. She can only hope she made the right choice and that those three are the ones that can help her.

Feeling a slight tug, her body is forced to a stop. The guard on the right unlocks the cuffs on her feet. Leaving the handcuffs on, he hands the keys to Mike. "The hands are to remain locked." Mike nods, opening the back door to the car. Rya gets in, the door closing behind her. Looking out, she can see Paul exchange a few words with the men before the car doors open and they get in.

"We're going to the station to meet with the team. There you can change and we'll run down everything. Okay?" Mike says, looking back at her in the back seat.

Nodding her head, she feels eyes on her and turns her head to the right, seeing Armando staring at her. She looks him up and down, raising her brow when he doesn't look away. She hears Marcus speak from the front. "Don't worry about him," Marcus says, looking at the two in the back. "He's in his moody teenage phase where he hates his life and everyone in it..." He whispers to Rya. Furrowing his brows, Armando breaks their eye contact by slowly turning his head towards Marcus. "He'll get over it... eventually he tolerates you," Marcus winks at Rya and looks at Armando. "You ever eventually shut the hell up?" Armando asks, causing Mike and Marcus to look at him surprised. "Whoooa," Marcus exclaims, looking at his partner. Mike looks at Armando, "Hey, too much."

Armando rolls his eyes and looks at Rya one more time before he looks away and out the window. "You hear how he talks to me, Mike?... Just no respect for his elders!" Marcus whines from the front seat. "Yeah, I heard him..." The two continue to go back and forth. Rya raises a brow at the dynamic between the people she was put with. Glancing over at Armando, seeing him in his own world, she leans over into the corner of her seat, laying her head back. 'What the hell did I get myself into?'

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

...Miami Precinct...

Stepping out of the shower, Rya wraps her towel around her body and walks over to the locker room mirror. She was able to wash her hair and brush it out, leaving it down to air dry. Wiping the mirror, she looks a little more like herself. The scars and light bruises all over her body are still visible, serving as a reminder of what she had to go through. Shaking her head, she looks over at the folded clothes given to her and quickly puts them on. It's a simple Miami PD t-shirt and black cargos along with black socks, comfortable enough to move around in. Slipping on her shoes, she walks out into the foyer where everybody was waiting for her.

Looking up from the computer, Mike claps his hands and points to Rya. "Everyone, this is Rya, our informant. Rya, this is Rita, the boss, and Kelly and Dorn. They are our tech kids, formally known as AMMO," he says, pointing at everyone. They all wave at her with a small smile, causing her to nod her head in acknowledgment.

Marcus walks up to her with her handcuffs. "Sorry, but they said at all times," he looks at her apologetically, putting the cuffs on her.

"Alright, I have the map of the entire strip. I marked up the abandoned buildings. I just need you to point it out for us," Dorn says, walking up to the table in the middle and laying the map flat on it.

Rya skims over the map. "This one," she says, pointing at a building.

"You sure?"

"Yes, it's that one," she says, looking up at the team.

"Alright, here's the plan," Mike starts. "Rya, you are going to go in and grab a sample of the drops. Grab anything you think we might need that can be used as evidence."

Rya looks at Mike, her eyes widened. "By myself?!" she asks.

"No, uh, Armando will go with you to make sure nothing happens to you. The rest of the team will be watching on the drones, so there's no need to worry."

Calming down a little bit, Rya nods her head. "Okay."

"Armando, you good with that?" Mike asks, looking back at his son who was standing in the back of the room. Armando shrugs and walks off.

"Okay. Well, the plan is set. Let's get ready."

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

...3 Hours Later...

"Alright, can you hear me?" Dorn asks, looking at Armando and Rya who both wore protective gear and their earpieces. Both of them nod their heads as they make their way out of the truck.

"Alright, we'll be right behind you guys. Just grab a sample and get out safely," Rita says, looking at the two before closing the truck door.

Armando starts to walk toward the building, not paying Rya any attention. Rolling her eyes, Rya follows behind, picking up her pace to catch up to him. "Alright, we'll enter first to make sure it's clear," she heard Dorn say into the earpieces. Watching the drone fly into the building a couple of minutes later, she hears Dorn clear them to enter.

Walking into the building, there were broken pieces of glass and boarded-up openings. "You know where the stuff is at, right?" Armando questions, looking back at Rya.

"Yeah, it should be a little further down in a locked room," she replies. Making their way around the building, the two end up at a dead end.

"It's a dead end," Armando says, looking at the wall.

"No, it's just made to look that way," Rya corrects him.

Armando looks at Rya for a second before looking back at the wall. Stepping back a little, he kicks at the wall, and it easily crumbles, revealing a laboratory full of different substances. Skimming the room before stepping in, Armando picks up a bag full of white pills. "Opioids?" Armando mumbles, setting the bag back down. Watching Armando look around the place, Rya sneaks her still cuffed hands into her pocket, pulling out a flash drive. Looking around, she sees a desk off in the corner with a computer on it.

"Where are the drops?" Armando asks, looking back at her.

Quickly hiding the flash drive in her palm, she looks back at Armando and clears her throat.

"It should be in a case or one of these tubes," she says, stepping into the room.

Walking around, she makes her way towards the computer, quickly putting the flash drive in and pressing a button to turn on the computer. Looking back up to make sure Armando was still looking around, she presses around until she sees a downloading screen. Quickly walking away from the computer to look around.

"What are you doing?" She hears Armando question, staring at her.

"Looking for the drops, it should be around here somewhere," she replies, glancing around and noticing a small black case sitting on top of a shelf.

Lifting her cuffed hands, she points at the case.

"There, I think that's it."

Walking over, Armando picks up the case and places it on the counter. Unlocking it, he opens it to see a bunch of little tubes full of a liquid labeled 'OPP.M'. Glancing at Rya, who is looking at the tubes, he grabs one of the tubes and puts it in his pocket.

"Alright, let's go."

Suddenly, a beeping sound goes off.

"What is that?" Armando says, and Rya looks over at the computer.

Quickly walking over, she sees an error displayed on the screen.

"Shit," she mumbles, quickly grabbing the flash drive. She feels Armando grab her shoulder roughly, causing her to turn towards him.

"What the fuck is that?" His face hardens.

"Guys, we have people coming in," Kelly speaks into the earpiece.

All of a sudden, a man fully covered in black with a gold star stitched on his vest comes in firing at the two. Armando swiftly dodges, pulling Rya with him. Getting pushed under the counter, Rya watches as Armando grabs the man, making him stumble. Taking his gun away from him, Armando shoots the man.

More men in black come into the room. Armando fights each one coming at him. Watching him get outnumbered, Rya runs out, taking her cuffed hands and grabbing one of the men from behind, choking him with the chain.

Turning around, she takes the man with her, using him as a shield as one of the other men tries to shoot at her. Dropping his body, she drops to her knee, sliding across the floor, picking up a gun and shooting the men coming towards her. Running out of ammo, she runs up to one of the men, dodging the bullets before hitting him with the butt of the gun.

Grabbing one of the glass flasks on the desk, she breaks it and picks up the sharpest piece. A man comes up to her, throwing a punch. She strategically maneuvers, causing him to fall forward and land on the desk. Stabbing the man a few times in the back, she then turns around and slices the neck of another man coming towards her. A few minutes pass of her and Armando fighting, the last body dropping. She looks up at Armando, slightly roughed up and out of breath, already staring at her. Looking down at her bloody cuffed hands, she drops the piece of glass.

"What the fuck?" she hears Mike in her earpiece. Taking a breath, she looks back up at Armando.

"We got what we need, let's go," she says before turning around and walking out of the room, Armando following behind, glaring at her.

Making her way out of the building, she sees the doors of the truck open up, the team looking at her and Armando coming over. Stepping into the truck, she makes her way over to Dorn's computer and screens. "hey thats my seat" Dorn says pointing at her.

"What the fuck was that?" Marcus says, furrowing his brows and looking at Rya with his arms open.

Armando sits on the seat, unstrapping his vest. "Clearly your informant isn't just an informant," he says, glaring at her.

Rolling her eyes, she pulls out the flash drive from her pocket and swiftly inserts it into the computer, a bunch of files popping up. "Hey, who the fuck are you? Because that wasn't the same helpless girl that was crying and shit, pleading for us to help her back at the prison?!" Marcus says, pulling her shoulder back, forcing her to face the team, all looking at her with confusion apparent on their faces.

"You got some explaining to do," Mike says, crossing his arms.

Staring back at the team, Rya leans back in the chair. 'Well, shit.'

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!):

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno

[zombiethingy]

Filth part 4 for WIP Wednesday? The name has me intrigued 👀🩵

Thank you for the ask!!! I was struggling so much with getting past that scene (writing dialogue is not my favourite) and that was really the kick in the butt I needed to get it done 😅

It's the 4. and most likely last chapter of "not strong enough (to stay away)" [here's the AO3 link. Rated E and read the tags!!! It's definitely not for everyone!]. I called the first chapter/draft "filth", because it's mostly a kink fic that somehow grew a little plot and got sweet, and kept it up for the other chapters too xD

Buut this snippet isn't smutty at all (sorry I guess 😄) and here it is:

He pokes his head into the kitchen, taking a moment to appreciate the view – Steve's ass framed so lovely by his shorts and the apron around his waist – before he announces his presence. "I still got a few minutes to call Wayne, yeah?" he asks. "Sure, the food still needs a bit longer," Steve answers, looking back to Eddie over his shoulder and smiling. Wayne answers the phone gruff as always. "Hi Wayne," Eddie says. He's sure he can't keep the giddiness out of his voice. And yeah, Wayne doesn't say much, but the way he says it is a dead giveaway that he's onto him. "Eddie, nice evening?" he asks. "Yeah, that I had! So nice," Eddie answers, still trying to keep his voice neutral – and failing. "Good," Wayne huffs. "Gonna spend the day too?" "Yeah, I'll probably not be home for dinner if that's alright." Eddie hopes that's okay with Steve as well, he forgot to ask, whoops. "Sure is, son," Wayne says, calm as always. But then it comes: "Enjoy the day with your boyfriend." "He's no–," Eddie sputters, "no, he's not." He chuckles while Eddie whines, "Wayne, no–". Wayne hangs up.

And here's the post with my WIPs: link. I could use some more kicks in the butt 😁 And check out Finn's works too while you're at it 💜

[kindalikerackham]

found this ask game from 2015 in my old blog's ask emails and I love it 🥺 so I'm bringing it back

NICE THOUGHT CHALLENGE. You have to publicly post 5 nice things about yourself. Then pass it along to 10 of your favorite followers. Keep it going! (~‾⌣‾)~ Appreciate yourself! ❤

I have a truly rockin eye for detail on interior design and personal fashion 🎸 💅🏻 ✨

I've been doing yoga for a whole month! and I love it!

My haircut right now is so fun! goofy curlytop 80s mulletish floof. it's too much hair/itchy/heavy, so I'll be getting a chop soon, but I do adore how it looks now (whoops forgot to post this a bit ago & my haircut changed but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

I'm an excellent gift giver! My roommate was just talking about how they adore the gifts I've gotten them over the past 4 years. Targeted, based on conversations we've had, minimally annoying, eminently useful or fun. It's a fun hobby!

I like to think I bring fun energy to conversations! Bad puns, playful arguments, dares, zest, and lots of laughter.

Feel free to not if it's not your thing, but tagging @klainelynch @hereforthelizardsex @stenchkow @explorne5ever @cheshyre513 @etoilesombre @ghost-roads & any mutual/follower, esp if you're feeling a little down right now 💜

[omorinintendoswitchedition]

DMC Questions Anon here!

Before you read this next question:

I was informed that it would be a good idea for my questions to be answered with a specific tag so if people wish to block it they could. Please tag your answers to any question I send you with "dmc questions anon" and I think that should work.

If you wish to be taken off the list, ask. If somebody wishes to be placed on the list, ask. If your anon asks are off and you wish to participate, just make a post answering the question you see going around.

Remember you do not have to answer every question, so please don't feel pressured to do so.

Please also remember to take as long as you need! Do not rush yourself, this is supposed to be a fun activity and I don't want anyone to feel stressed out by trying to rush to answer questions.

Now onto the actual question:

How would you rank the 5 games in the Devil May Cry series? (By story)

Separately, if you want, how would you rank extended material? (The DMC1 Novel, The DMC3 Mangas, The Anime, The DMC2 Novel, Deadly Fortune, Before the Nightmare, and Visions of V, all of which can be found (along with other stuff) here: https://originaldmc.github.io/DivinityStatue/Downloads.html)

If you wish, how would you rank all of it together in one big list?

Omg hiii anon!!!!

I’m gonna be honest and say I haven’t made my way through all the dmc side content yet, I’ve only managed to read Visions of V so I guess I have to rank that number one. Ive also watched some of the anime, but not enough to really give it a firm rank. I’ve been kinda busy lately so I just haven’t had the time to finish reading all the novels

And onto the games!!!!!!

Number 5:Dead last

Devil May Cry 2. Okay yeah this should not be a surprise. DMC2 failed in pretty much every category when it comes to games. The story is just mind numbingly boring. Let’s move on

Number 4:Pretty Eh but doesn’t really hold up well with the later entries

Devil May Cry 1. Someone on Reddit said this the best but when you compare it to later entries DMC1 kinda feels like filler. I am all for a DMC1 remake of it means giving Mundus a much more satisfying ass whooping (and more screen time for Trish!!!! She deadass isn’t there for half the game!!!! I literally forgot she existed in that game halfway through!!!!)

Number 3:Concepts were great but man they missed some potential

Devil May Cry 4. The concepts of a religious cult ruling and island and creating angels from the power of demons rules. And putting us in a position where Dante was the “bad guy” was actually really cool. But half of the game is just backtracking as Dante which puts the story on hold. The scrapped concepts for DMC4 were so cool and so should’ve been included man :((

Number 2:Overcoming your daddy issues

Devil May Cry 3. Dante and Lady both had amazing arcs throughout this game. With Dante accepting his repressed past and demon side and proudly claiming himself as son of Sparda who harbours his soul. It’s enough to make a grown man cry. And Lady’s arc of learning that not all demons are evil, and finally being able to extract revenge on her father. And who can forget that famous “even a devil May cry when he looses someone he loves” line. And I ain’t gonna pretend Vergil wasn’t a banger part of this game’s story cause he was a banger part of this game’s story. A man who seeks power to the point of self-destruction. Who is just as fucked up as Dante but refuses to let himself feel those emotions, and instead filling the blanks with raw strength. And the post credits scene with Mundus…..biting and chewing and killing……ough the post credits scene with Mundus…..

Number 1:That’s intergenerational trauma babyyyy

Devil May Cry 5. As much as I mald and seethe about how dirty Lady and Trish were done in DMC5 I truly do fucking love DMC5. Watching Vergil finally gain the capability to express his emotions and be able to reconcile with his past and his trauma and work for a better future got me wailing and weeping. Watching Nero be able to prove that yes, he is powerful and capable as a devil hunter got me weeping and wailing. Seeing Dante and Vergil finally being able to reconstruct their sibling bond after so many years and keep their sibling rivalry on less violent terms got me weeping and wailing. Everything about V got me wailing and weeping. Nico was such a good addition to this franchise with her personality and how she bounces off the others with her snarky little remarks and was a good source of comedy relief during rough times. The passing of the torch moment was honestly so powerful and I’m actually really looking forward to seeing how Nero can carry on that torch through the series. And the references to the DMC anime in the forms of Patty and Morrison were really neat too.

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 4 - Secrets

Title: “Messy”

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 3,503

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Original Characters

Tags: John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Angst, Breaking The Rules, Dean is Sam's Real Parent (But he shouldn't have to be), Dean Giving Sam a Childhood, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Meets a Cute Boy, Unwanted Haircut, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dean is 13 and Sam is 9

Summary: John leaves Dean and Sam alone at a motel the day before Halloween. Despite John's hard-and-fast rules about leaving the motel room, Sam convinces Dean to take him trick-or-treating. While they're out, Dean meets a boy who makes him feel like breaking the rules was worth it.

On AO3 Here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean, you know the drill,” John says brusquely as he hoists the duffel over his shoulder. “Tell me the rules.”

Dean stands up from where he’s folding laundry on the motel room floor. They stopped at the laundromat this morning, John tossing Dean just enough quarters for two small loads before taking Sam along with him to the local library for research. They’ve been tracking a creature for days and John’s still not sure exactly what it is.

Dean would have loved to help with the books. Instead he sat in front of the laundry machine, exactly the same as the hundreds of others he’s fed with quarters over the years, and watched their clothes spin around and around. He noticed new holes in Sam’s jeans and socks when he moved them to the dryer. If his dad will let him use some of their wound-stitching thread, he’ll repair them after this hunt.

He faces his dad, posture straight and hands behind his back. “The rules are stay in the room, keep the doors and windows locked, don’t answer the door for anyone except you and Bobby, only spend money if I absolutely have to, and always have a weapon in reach,” he rattles off.

John nods, face impassive. “And the most important rule?”

“Protect Sammy,” Dean says firmly. He glances over to the rickety table under the window, where his scrawny little brother is filling out a worksheet. It’s part of the last round of homework their teachers had given them at their previous school, right before John took them out again to hit the road.

Dean quietly tossed his own homework in the garbage and told Sammy to finish every worksheet, because he was going to mail it back to the school and his teacher would check it. Sam’s even writing a letter in the cursive he’s learning to go along with it.

Dean has no clue what the address of the school is.

John pulls the Impala key out of his pocket and opens the door. “I’ll be out of cell range during this next leg. Check in date is Thursday. Don’t call for help until Sunday.”

Dean nods. John steps halfway out the door before turning back. He eyes Dean for a long moment, as if he’s trying to come up with something to add. Eventually he just says “I’m cutting your hair when I get back. You look messy.”

The door closes. In the silence of the room, Dean reaches up and touches his bangs. Just this morning, in the reflection of the washing machine door, he admired how his hair was curling a bit over his ears. It framed his face and made him look softer. Less skinny. More like the other boys he’d seen at school.

Oh well.

The Impala roars to life outside in the parking lot, and Dean listens until the purr of the engine fades away down the road. He looks at the half-folded pile of laundry at his feet.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween.”

Dean jumps a little. Sam’s right next to him, eyebrows raised expectantly. Dean pushes him away and drops onto the couch, nudging a balled-up pair of socks with his foot. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

Sam sits down next to him. “Dean, I think Dad forgot about Halloween.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “He didn’t forget, Sammy. It just doesn’t matter.” He avoids looking at his brother, running his fingers over the ridge of threads barely holding together the hole in his own jeans.

“But I told James I’d be a doctor,” Sam needles. “He’s gonna be a pirate.”

Sam’s ability to instantly make friends always leaves Dean feeling half-proud, half-nervous. Sam was in third grade with James for less than two weeks, and he still talks about him constantly.

Dean thinks it’s better not to get attached. He just can’t bring himself to teach Sam that particular lesson yet.

He sighs and glances at Sam. “You know you can’t trick-or-treat with James anyway, right? He’s in Denver.”

Sam groans dramatically and flops against the hard backrest of the couch. His shaggy hair falls into his face. Dean looks at the longest strands, curving past Sam’s cheekbones.

“We can just do Halloween here,” he suggests, even though he knows “buying candy from the gas station” definitely doesn’t count as necessary spending.

Sam shakes his head where it’s still resting on the couch. “That’s not real Halloween.”

“We’ve never done a real Halloween, so how would you know?” Dean’s just buying time now, putting off the moment when he has to say “no.”

The stink-eye that’s sent his way is of epic proportions. “I watch TV, Dean.”

Dean rubs his face. “Sammy--”

“--Oh, please, Dean, please!” Sam shifts into begging mode, sitting up and whipping out the puppy eyes. His left eye is half-covered by hair. “I know we’re not allowed, but can’t we break the rules just one time? It can be a secret.”

They hold eye contact for a moment, but Sam’s more stubborn. Dean looks away first, his eyes falling to the laundry on the floor. Almost unconsciously, he reaches under the lumpy couch cushion next to him and lets his fingers graze the pistol stashed there. His stomach rumbles and he wonders how far he can stretch their last cans of soup.

Suddenly, a secret doesn’t sound so bad at all.

“Okay,” he says.

Sam must’ve not expected Dean to relent, because he’s silent for a couple seconds before whooping and launching himself at Dean. “Ahh! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Dean can’t help the smile tugging at his lips. He hugs Sam back, the kid’s bony shoulder digging into his ribcage. After a moment, he pulls away and puts on his most serious face. Hands on Sam’s upper arms, he looks him straight in the eyes. “Sam, if we do this, you cannot tell Dad. Do you understand?”

Sam nods enthusiastically, still grinning. Dean digs his fingers into his arms. “Listen to me, or we’re not going.” He waits for Sam’s face to fall a little before continuing. “You can’t just not tell Dad, you can’t drop hints. You have to clean up all your wrappers. We can never talk about it. Do you get it?”

Sam’s eyes are wide now. He nods again, very small, and Dean knows he’s gotten through. He loosens his grip on Sam’s arms. “All right, then. How are we gonna make you look like a doctor?”

Sam beams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, they lock the motel room door behind them and head out. The neighborhood that starts a few streets behind the motel is pretty normal, as far as Dean can tell. The houses aren’t super big, but the yards are, and there are toys scattered on some of the lawns. The biggest house on the corner even has a tree swing. The big tree reminds him of the one in their front yard in Lawrence. He tries not to think about that too much.

It’s dark, and chilly -- they’re still in Colorado -- and Dean holds his jacket closed in front of his chest. The zipper broke a couple weeks ago. Ahead of him, Sam doesn’t seem to feel the cold at all. His “doctor coat” flaps behind his legs as he skips down the sidewalk. It’s just a sheet from the bed that Dean stuck together with safety pins in a certain way (it doesn’t look like a coat at all, but the mirror in the motel bathroom was shattered so Sam couldn’t see it anyway). He hung their stethoscope from the big first-aid kit around Sam’s neck, with the express instruction not to lose it, and he emptied the rest of the first-aid kit onto the couch so Sam could carry the empty box with the big red cross and look professional.

Sam hasn’t smiled this much in weeks. Dean’s neck is crawling with the knowledge that he’s breaking rules, bigtime, but he shakes it off. They’re out now. It’s done.

Sam has already latched on to a group of kids making their way up the drive to a single-story brick house. Dean hears him introduce himself, sees him flash the big toothy smile that Dean told him makes him look friendly. The other kids compliment his stethoscope, and Dean relaxes a little.

Everyone in the group is wearing what looks like homemade costumes, too — there’s another bedsheet, draped over a short kid’s head like a ghost (if only ghosts actually looked like that, Dean thinks); and a long black coat, obviously from an adult, dwarfing a kid who Dean’s pretty sure is supposed to be a vampire. Sam, in his makeshift getup, fits right in.

Dean’s trailing behind the group, letting Sam do his making-friends thing, when he notices another older kid doing the same. He looks about Dean’s age, maybe a year older, fourteen or so, and he’s dressed like an angel with a blue halo made out of pipe cleaners. The rest of his outfit is normal, though — a t-shirt that’s printed to look like a suit and tie, under a regular puffy winter coat. Dean’s eyes linger on him as they follow the younger kids up to the house. When they come to a stop so Sam can ring the doorbell, the other boy looks over at Dean, too.

“Hi,” he says. In the yellow glow of the porchlight, his eyes look greenish blue. “I’m Al.” He reaches out a hand. Dean looks at it for a moment, then takes it. They shake. Al’s hand is warm and smooth, a stark contrast to Dean’s freezing, calloused palm. Dean wishes he could hold on a bit longer.

“Dean,” he replies, dropping Al’s hand. He’s not sure what to say next. That’s Sam’s area of expertise.

Luckily, Al doesn’t let him flounder long. “Do you live around here?” he asks, friendly and curious. Dean’s used to hearing that question asked with a thick layer of suspicion, usually out of the mouth of some nosy adult. He still gives his practiced answer, though.

“No, me and my brother are just visiting our grandparents for a couple days.”

Al nods, accepting the lie easily. “I thought I’d never seen you at school.” He points at the sheet-clad ghost. “That’s my sister Katie. She’s seven. It’s the first time our parents are letting me take her trick-or-treating on our own.”

Dean smiles and gestures at Sam, who’s holding the empty first-aid kit out to the homeowner for candy. “That’s Sam. He’s nine. Same deal for us.”

“I like his costume,” Al says. Dean bristles for a moment, until he realizes Al’s being sincere.

“Thanks,” he replies. “I like Katie’s too.” He sweeps his eyes over Al again. “Why are you wearing a fake suit with your halo?”

Al looks down at himself and laughs sheepishly, smoothing down the front of his t-shirt. “I wanted to do a toga with a sheet, but it’s way too cold. I just dressed up ‘cause Katie wanted me to. The halo was the quickest thing.”

“It works,” Dean assures him, suddenly wanting Al to feel good about himself. He shuffles his feet a little, kicking at the fallen leaves littering the walkway. Al smiles at him and something grows in Dean’s chest, a warm, glowing ball, making everything feel tight and tingly. He’s not sure what to do with it.

Sam appears at his elbow suddenly, much to Dean’s relief. He ruffles Sam’s hair. “What’d you get?”

Already chewing on something that looks very caramelly as it squishes between his teeth, Sam holds out the first-aid kit. “She gave me two big ones!” he announces around his mouthful. Two full-sized Milky Ways, one already half-unwrapped, slide around in the box.

“Cool,” Dean says. “Don’t get a stomachache.”

“They’re gonna get stomachaches,” Al says ruefully as Sam and Katie bounce down the driveway to hit the next house. “We should steal some of their candy, y’know, just to protect them.”

The word protect briefly jolts Dean out of his growing sense of relaxation and he sneakily pats his chest, feeling the sheathed knife tucked away in the inside pocket. He makes sure he can still see Sammy (now bounding up the walkway of the next house), and takes a breath. Everything’s under control.

“You okay?” Al’s looking at him with his eyebrows drawn together, a lock of dark hair falling into the crease. He has nice hair, Dean decides. Floppy and kind of messy, squished flat in the middle by the band of the pipe cleaner halo.

“Yep,” he says, forcing the cheer into his voice. If Al notices, he doesn’t say anything. They continue to follow their siblings through the neighborhood, leaving some distance so they can talk. Al tells Dean about school, that he likes science and hates history, that his favorite band is Journey, that he wants to play soccer but his dad wants him to play football, and that he wants to be a veterinarian.

“I like cars,” Dean says in response. “I’m not great at school. Not sure what I wanna do when I grow up.”

Not sure how to tell you that I’ll probably be hunting monsters for the rest of my life.

Al leans on the picket fence of the house that they’re currently waiting outside. “You could be a teacher,” he says.

Dean narrows his eyes at him in confusion. “I just told you I’m bad at school.”

Al shrugs. “My favorite teacher says he didn’t like school. That’s why he’s so good at helping us. He gets it.”

The heavy layer of clouds above them breaks, and a ray of moonlight lands across Al’s face. They’re standing between streetlights, so the silvery glow makes Al’s blueish eyes gleam. Dean finds he has to breathe a little harder than normal. He shakes his head.

“Nah, if anyone’s gonna be a teacher, it’s Sammy. He’s really smart.”

Al hums and pushes off the fence. Sam and Katie are moving on again. “I don’t know, man. You seem smart to me.” He pats Dean on the shoulder, the warmth of his hand seeping through Dean’s threadbare jacket.

In the relative darkness, Dean smiles so hard his eyes squeeze shut.

Eventually, they’ve stopped at every house in the neighborhood. Dean’s pockets are full of the candy that doesn’t fit into Sam’s overflowing first-aid kit. Al’s coat pockets are bulging, too. Sam and Katie run sugar-hyped circles under a streetlight while Dean and Al stand on the corner, looking at each other a bit awkwardly.

“Uh-- I’m glad we ran into you guys,” Al says finally. “You’re really cool.”

Dean’s glad that he’s the one facing away from the streetlight, because his cheeks heat up and probably look way pinker than they would from just the cold.

“You too,” he says. “Wish we lived around here.”

“Where do you live?” Al asks. “You know, just in case we ever take a road trip.”

Unless your destination’s my dad’s car, I don’t think you’re gonna run into me.

“Sioux Falls,” he says. “South Dakota. I live with my uncle.”

If Al finds that strange, he doesn’t pry. Dean could hug him. He wants to hug him.

Katie comes barrelling over, dragging her pillowcase of candy along the pavement. She’s huffing from running around, ghost sheet dangling half off her body. “Al, I’m soooo tired.” She flops against her brother. Sam comes trotting up behind her and grins at Dean. Dean tries to smile back, but there’s a lump in his throat, something that’s making it hard to breathe.

Al pats Katie on the head. “We should probably go home, anyway. It’s getting late.”

Still taking tight little breaths, Dean nods. “Uh-- yeah, us too. See if Sam can sleep off the sugar rush.”

“How long are you staying with your grandparents?” Al asks.

Dean looks at his feet. Weighs the pros and cons of sneaking out again. He’d have to take Sam; there aren’t actually any grandparents who could watch him.

He can’t risk it.

“We’re going home tomorrow morning,” he says, every word dropping like lead. Sam shoots him a confused look, but he ignores it.

Unless he’s imagining it, Al’s face seems to fall. “Aw, too bad. Wait! Hang on.” He rummages through his candy-heavy pockets until he pulls out a little spiral notebook and a nub of a pencil. He writes something on a page and rips it out. He hands it to Dean.

“Our phone number,” he says with a little smile. He steps forward and the streetlight catches his eyes again. Dean thinks that in the sunlight, they’d be bright blue. Al gestures at the paper. “You’ve got a phone at your uncle’s, right? Maybe you can call me sometime.”

There are way too many feelings jumbling around in Dean’s chest for him to say anything coherent, so he just nods. Al smiles wider. “Cool. I’m happy we met you.” He takes one more step forward and — Dean stops breathing altogether — wraps his arms briefly around Dean’s shoulders. He’s very warm. His hair smells good. Dean’s brain doesn’t catch up quite in time, and he misses his chance to hug back. The edge of Al’s halo brushes Dean’s forehead as he pulls away.

“Thanks for hanging out,” Al says, putting his arm around Katie’s shoulders and turning to go. “Have a good drive back home!”

Dean clears his throat. “Bye, guys,” he says lamely. Sam waves enthusiastically to make up for it. They stand under the streetlight for a long few minutes, watching Al and Katie go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam manages to eat every piece of candy by Thursday morning, which is the day they’re supposed to hear from John. Dean makes him eat canned vegetable soup in between meals of Mars bars and Skittles. They scrounge the motel room for wrappers, tossing them all into a big garbage bag that Dean’s going to throw into the dumpster outside. He finishes folding the laundry, counts the money to make sure it’s all there, re-packs the first aid kit, and puts the sheet back on the bed without the safety pins.

Anytime the unease creeps in about having broken the rules, he looks at his brother’s shining face and pushes it back down. He and Sam rehearse their story in case John asks them what they did and Sam even finishes all of his worksheets. Dean folds them up and hides them at the very bottom of his duffle. He tells Sam he put them into the mailbox in the motel office.

And every few hours, he pulls the folded little piece of notebook paper out of his pocket and looks at it. In careful handwriting, Al had written:

Alan Montgomery

(from Halloween. I hope you call.)

And his phone number.

Thursday afternoon, Dean takes the candy-wrapper garbage bag out to the parking lot. At the last second, he pulls Al’s note out of his jeans. After a long moment of reading and re-reading it, he gently folds it back up and tosses it into the bag. He throws the whole thing into the dumpster.

But not before memorizing the number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John gets home late Thursday night. Before they check out of the motel on Friday, John sits Dean down on the toilet seat in the bathroom and pulls out his electric clippers.

While John has his back turned, plugging in the clippers by the sink, Dean pushes his hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands bunch up between his fingers and fall back down onto his ears. He remembers Al’s messy hair brushing his cheek when they hugged.

John flips the clippers on and the buzzing fills the bathroom. For the second time, Dean is glad that the mirror is shattered.

With every lock of hair that tumbles to the ground, Dean recites Al’s number in his head.

“There,” John says gruffly, after the floor and Dean’s lap are littered with honey brown strands. “You look like a man again.”

Dean stands up, brushing off his jeans. His head feels cold. “I’ll get a broom,” he says.

He’s halfway out the bathroom door when John says “Dean.”

Dean freezes, already wondering where he left a wrapper, how John found the garbage bag, if Sam let something slip. He slowly turns back. John’s wrapping the cord around the clippers.

“I need you to come on the next hunt. We’ll drop Sam off at Bobby’s.”

Bobby’s, where the telephone is. Dean’s heart beats hard for a different reason now. He tries to look casual. “Are we gonna stay for a bit?”

John’s already shaking his head before Dean’s done talking. He pushes past him and drops the clippers into his duffel bag on the bed. “No. We’ll be on the road for a while.” He stops and looks at Dean. “Weren’t you going to find a broom?”

Dean loads a dustpan with his hair and empties it on top of the garbage bag in the dumpster.

He whispers Al’s number again.

[fitzefitcher]

faction conflict soapbox, pt. 1

okay so it seems like for the most part, there are a couple consistent schools of thought here:

school 1: I'm tired of the Horde being the Bad Guy 24/7

school 2: I'm tired of faction conflict, in general

school 3: Really Deeply wish that the Alliance's crimes would actually be Addressed, At All

school 4: Nuanced Wild Card:tm: opinions that I'll have to tackle individually lmao

so let's get started, obviously this is going to be a long-ass post, so I'm going to preemptively break up my answers to these into separate posts, for readability and also for my own sanity lmao. this will be under my essay tag but also the tag faction conflict soapbox, for blacklisting reasons.

school 1: I'm Tired of the Horde being the Bad Guy 24/7

@lokaror: i dont tend to have much of it these days. But i hate the "Horde is always the bad guy" stuff. When faction war happens its rarely with too much nuance on either side. The group that is primarily outcasts banding together seemingly always having the bad apples chafes too. But i also see from alliance side that it can be just as raw the other way.

The alliance sprang up out of need to for mutual defense, and the horde is the horde because they also need mutual aid and defence. We can't really put too much real world ideals to either, but at its core its always a tinder that can be lit. No way around that.

@chryseis: Long time blood elf player! I still love the horde (even though most of my favourite lore characters are alliance lol) because it feels like more of a community than the alliance with their high king. However I'm getting super sick of the horde always being the bad guy, and the fact that blizz has used the same evil warchief plot twice! Having said that, some of my worst/funniest online interactions have been with men on twitter who play alliance and genuinely (1/2)

Believe that anyone who plays horde is a terrible war criminal and not someone playing a computer game lmao (2/2)

@arkhamarchitecture​:  Feels a lot like Blizzard can't resist making the Horde the villains and even when the Alliance does wrong, it gets written off and excused, like they're not allowed to be the bad guys. Which in turn makes a lot of Alliance players treat the Horde like Blizzard is biased in our favor just because the story is always about us? Even though the story is about our side apparently being full of godawful people? It's really infuriating.

I think a core issue w this is the way that the game often presents the Horde and its various characters without the same empathy that it gives to its Alliance characters (note I said "empathy" and not "nuance" or "character development," we'll get back to that later), so it's not that horde people are incapable of inspiring empathy or aren't empathetic themselves, clearly they are and have evoked that reaction enough from players to arrive at this conclusion, it's that the same sort of steps taken with portraying alliance characters aren't taken with horde characters. like, I've already covered this a bit in my sylvanas essay, but like, we're not really given any opportunity to understand what's going on inside her head, so the actions she takes feel nonsensical, unecessary, or even needlessly cruel, and seemingly as players interacting with this game we have to make a lot of extra effort in order to even attempt to understand it. like, example, the "before the storm" novel portrays her as this horrible, conniving, manipulative Evil Dictator, for not wanting to share vital information about azerite with a faction whose leader has effectively done nothing to curb the warmongering tendencies of its other leaders, when in fact, it's very understandable why she wouldn't wanna do this. But again, the author (Christie Golden, bc of course it is) very explicitly portrays her as Bad Bad Evil Zombie Lady for Daring to think that they can't trust the same faction that seems to take issue with the mere concept of the horde having the Audacity of thinking they Deserve to Live lmao. Like, clearly this is Happening, but's never talked about or formally addressed.

likewise, with Garrosh, our other Bad Bad Evil Dictator Warchief, despite all the weird, wretched, horrible shit he was doing, it unfortunately makes a really terrible kind of sense if examined further.

why did he turn away from the horde leaders? because they had all uniformly rejected him from the getgo. cairne said he'd never accept him, vol'jin said he'd kill him, sylvanas made it clear she would never respect his authority. all before he'd done a single solitary thing as warchief.

why did he turn to war so quickly and so strongly? because nothing else was working. thrall's horde had tried diplomacy for years, and it amounted to nothing, because no matter what he did, no matter how far the horde ran from the eastern kingdoms, the alliances wouldn't stop chasing them and trying to kill them. the alliance would never see them as actual people, they'd only ever see them as twisted monsters and bloodthirsty, mindless beasts.

why did he turn to such violent, inhumane methods? bc the entirety of his first real brush with warfare was in northrend, against the scourge, an enemy that will keep getting up again and again and again until they're utterly annihilated. and before that, all his experiences with conflict were with demons, who were similarly impossible to kill.

like, obviously none of these reasons make it okay for him to do what he had done. just because something is understandable, doesn't mean it's acceptable. but it's never portrayed as understandable. it's never addressed, at all. there is no nuance attached to any of his actions- it is only ever portrayed as Evil, as Manipulative and Conniving and Violent and Warmongering, even though there is a whole slew of reasons for how and why we got here. there is no emotionality, there is only cruelty.

edit: whoops, forgot a relevant ask. added now.

[saintzenni]

fic author interview

thanks sm for the tag @papercranesong !! i love doing these lol and it’s a great way to procrastinate on doing absolutely anything productive :)

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

28 works :)

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

104 278 words as of september 5, 2024 (which is a number that always makes me grin when i see it because i didn’t think i’d ever be able to write that much!!!)

3. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Cobwebs on the Windowpane (st ds9, 81 kudos)

Meet the Tuckers (st ent, 64 kudos)

Casual Conversations (st ds9, 55 kudos)

Daydreaming (Is a Mild Form of Dissociation) (st ent, 54 kudos)

Sailor Mouth (st ent, 44 kudos)

4. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

yes, of course! sometimes it takes me a while, though. i figure that when people comment (assuming their comment is positive), they’re complimenting you, and to me it’s rude not thank someone for a compliment (if the compliment is given in good faith). i’m also a chronic yapper and i love to talk about things i was thinking about when i was writing or my theories about the characters etc. i love engaging with people as passionate about the characters as i am!!

5. what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

umm probably Blind Eye? i’m honestly a little confused about what counts as angst as the dictionary definition isn’t really how people use it in the fic world ahaha. in blind eye, i end on mirror tucker hating himself after having been tortured so probably that one i guess

6. what’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

so many choices!! mmm i think the one that’s the most joyous is Sour Cherry Pie—a niche favourite! it seemed like it made a lot of people happy to read, and what else can a writer ask for but that? it ends with a kind of awkward kiss and then trip whooping with joy in the street and calling jon to tell him the good news (he got a date). my modern au exists only to be uplifting so it probably fits the best :)

7. do you write crossovers?

i have in the past. back when i was on ffn i wrote a couple. only published one, though, and then i deleted it cause it used dialogue from an episode of doctor who and i thought i would get sued by the bbc lol (i was 14 i did not know how fair use worked lmfao)

more recently, i wrote a crossover between strange new worlds and enterprise. it had no actual plot so i never published it lol

edit: i published a crossover last august that i completely forgot about. it’s a crossover between st: ent and desmond’s called Just a Trim! it was kinda low-key which is why i forgot it

8. have you ever received hate on a fic?

not really hate? but i did get um-actually’d once (they were wrong lmfao)

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

nope! i don’t really read it either. i promised myself when i started writing that i’d never write gratuitous sex—sarah j maas traumatized me. most i’ll do is a fade to black.

10. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of? possibly i’ve had them scraped by ai but i have no way of knowing. i have had people use metaphors/similes i used tho! unconsciously i’m sure, but it was still very flattering :) i generally subscribe to mimicry being the highest form of flattery lol

11. have you ever had a fic translated?

not by other people, but i’ve translated my own work into spanish lol

12. have you co-written a fic before?

several times! shoutout to glitter, my great collaborator <3 in fact, my fifth-most kudos’d fic i collab’d on with glitter! it’s really fun to see how other people write and what they do with the same idea. it’s also a great way to learn and improve your own writing! (i do apologize for being super fucking slow tho glitter lol)

13. what’s your all-time favourite ship?

based on word count, i guess it’s tuckerreed? (i apologize to my sapphic brethren. i have betrayed the cause.) i’m a big fan of friends to lovers and tuckerreed is classic that. also i think their characters are interesting to parse out particularly because enterprise canon gives us so little—kind of anything goes!

14. what’s a wip you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i don’t think i have one! any wips that i have now i’ll probably get around to finishing at some point if i care about them. i also just have some that i know i won’t finish and i don’t mind leaving unfinished.

15. what are your writing strengths?

i think my descriptions, imagery, and figurative language make up my writing’s greatest strength. since i was a kid, i’ve been told that my writing makes the reader feel like they’re there in the story—it’s something that i think marks my style: a sort of visceral, embodied quality. i delight in describing the character’s experience of the world and finding surprising new ways to do so!

16. what are your writing weaknesses?

inner monologues. fucking hate those bitches. i hate writing characters meditating on the situations they find themselves in or analyzing their own emotions. i get around it by writing a lot of memories and the visceral experience of emotion and i tend to prefer writing less contemplative characters to avoid writing emotional meditation at the source. i just generally find introspection really tough to write (even though i do it myself all the time…); i tend to favour a more detached narratorial voice, i guess.

17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

i came from the hetalia fandom, so this was something i used to see a lot and something that i’ll admit to doing. i have a lot of thoughts on this question!

i think it can be useful if employed sparingly to express particular concepts that can’t be translated faithfully in english. it can also add a form place-ness that might not be achievable otherwise. also, maybe the dialogue in another language isn’t meant to be understood, and i think that’s fine. using another language in dialogue can have applications that add to the story.

BUT. and this is a BIG but. i think often, using another language in fic is inappropriate, intrusive, and ultimately, detracts from the story. inappropriate because often speakers of multiple languages will stick to the language that’s most convenient for the group, and usually people in real life don’t randomly switch to another language on certain words with no context, the way characters do in fic. it exists, in the latter context, only to remind the reader of the particular character’s otherness. intrusive because it forces the reader to do unnecessary work. when i see a section in another language and the translation is in the author’s notes, it interrupts the flow to have to scroll up just to understand what’s happening in the story. even a translation in brackets will interrupt the flow. if you’re going to include a translation anyway, just put the translation in italics to show your character is speaking another language! i think fic authors need to think critically about why they’re including sections of dialogue in another language in their stories, and whether it actually adds anything to the story they’re writing.

18. what was the first fandom you wrote for?

star wars: the clone wars when i was 11. i wrote a self-insert (technically it was an oc but let’s be honest here, that was a thinly veiled attempt to get away with a self-insert) fic where i was a jedi with an orange lightsaber and a darksaber. i very specifically remember being worried that my readers would think my character hadn’t closed the door, so i included a sentence where she closes the door. i hated that sentence; it sounded so stupid and irrelevant, but i thought it was necessary? i later learned you don’t have to describe everything a character does lol

19. what’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

i really wanna write a dungeon meshi farcille fic, but i have no idea what to write! also, i kinda want to write a star wars: the clone wars fic about those two underworld criminal ladies in “lightsaber lost” being in love lol

20. what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

i think Sing Me Lullabies in Form of My Catcalls. it’s a short story, but i think i nailed the characterizations (and it was my first try for the pov character!) and the descriptions and the general kind of grimy british vibe. the dialogue is a bit clunky, but at the time i thought it was my masterpiece and i think it still stands up, even though i’ve improved a lot since then. it was also my first attempt at writing people necking on and i think it reads really well and i’m very proud of myself for that :)

i will say that Danse Macabre is starting to creep up on lullabies, though. i LOVE danse macabre. it really challenges me to approach my writing differently and to analyze and apply an unfamiliar style, and i’m really proud of how it’s shaping up. it’s the sort of story that makes me excited to write it! i do sometimes worry that the canon characters are getting lost, but overall, i’m really proud of what i’ve achieved so far with the story: i think i’ve done a pretty decent job of capturing a general victorian literary language!

thanks so much for tagging me again paper crane song <<3 it was great to read everyone’s responses and great to answer these questions that i’ve never really been asked before for the most part.

anyone who wants to join in, please do! tagging: @glitter-and-metal @scatterbrainedcapybara @themurdochmemesteries @cyanocitta-cristata-bromia

fic author interview

Yoinked this from @ladytharen because it looked like fun. Hope that's not presumptuous of me. <.<

Tagging @deadheaddaisy, @phoenixflames12, @butcharondir, and anybody else who'd like to play.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60! That's a nice round number.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Currently 593,580 - though in fairness, nearly a third of that is a single fic.

It was a different time back when I wrote that.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The four fics of my Built to Last series (though not in order, lol)

What We Build Here

For the Duration

From the Ground Up

The Place We Call Home

And rounding out the top 5, a Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency fic!

Lay Down the Beat 

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! And because I have very little self-control, I will often do so within minutes of receiving them! 😅

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm. I don't really do angst - I mean, I'll write stories where angst happens, but that's rarely the point of the story. If the plot demands a dash of angst, then, much like a chocolate recipe that needs some salt, it will get its angst. But I don't really set out to write A Series of Sad Events in Which the Characters Are Sad; that's just not my style or my taste.

So I can't really say that ANY of my stories have an angsty ending. Oh well.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

With the above in mind, happy endings are basically a guarantee, at least up to a point. 😆 I let my darlings be happy, I let them get married and have things work out, because it's fiction, dammit, and I can.

That being said, probably the happiest of all would be just about any of my Trip/T'Pol fic, because I let them get married and have kids and successful careers and be surrounded by friends and family who love and support them because SCREW YOU CANON.

7. Do you write crossovers?

No, I don't think my brain's wired for that. I just...can't seem to.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Never on AO3 (okay, I once got snippily told I'd mistagged something, but that wasn't hate). I have gotten hate here on Tumblr, though never anything specific, just general "u suck" which...whatever.

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

For a long time, I did not.

That answer has since changed.

As for what kind...the sweetest, fluffiest, most loving, happy, vanilla, tooth rotting smut ever.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, and I seriously doubt I ever would. I'm rather niche.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, niche. Haven't yet, doubt I will.

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

Years ago, I worked on an AU fic project with a friend that was very cool and a lot of fun. None of it ever got published, though.

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

Which ever one I'm writing right now. 😁

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I wouldn't mind finishing my Shadowrun: Dragonfall fic The Haven. Maybe some day.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, baby! I can have two characters sit and talk to each other FOREVER.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action and physical description. Even when I can clearly see a room where action is occurring in my mind, I have real trouble describing it on the page.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I used to not have any, then I started making up words and phrases in my own version of Andorian for my Trek fic.

And I still don't really have many thoughts, because I'm sure I'm doing it wrong.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Hmmmm. Pretty sure there's some BtVS fic of mine still existent on LiveJournal. 😅

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I'd love to write Discworld (I adore Carrot/Angua), but Discworld is already so perfect. It would have to be an absolute gem of an idea.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Whichever one I just finished. 😄

[binniebutter]

tagged by @jungwon-luv-bot-pt3 what's up bestie

1. Why did you choose your url

-> I didn't lmao. My friends and followers answered a google form and here we are, but binniebutter is hella cute sooo

2. Any side blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them?

-> hhhh to manyyy ok @saltyminhoe is my backup blog, @amiesficrecs is my fic rec blog, @moacabinet is the mocabin network blog, @loveleeflx is my edit and moodboard blog that I really need to update, @ye0njunnie just cause I like the name, @iamgyuu I also liked that name yuh, @blindingatz I'm an admin on this ateez blog along with my besties @scintillasofbeomgyu and @itxxz

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

-> I don't even fucking know uhhhhh like not even a year? cause I started posting August last year

apparently, I joined this tumblr place at 06/01/2019 10:40:00 PM.

wait wtf HUH

4. Do you have a queue tag?

-> nope I barely queue things

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

-> I liked fanfiction and wattpad wasn't doing it for me anymore besties, then I was like lemme try out this writing thing

6. Why did you choose your icon / pfp?

-> because my baby Yeonjun is beautiful

7. Why did you choose your header?

-> like I said before my baby is beautiful

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

-> uhhh I believe it's my Yoongi Boyfriend Photos post but I totally understand cause he is very much boyfie material it has like 402 notes yuh

9. How many mutuals do you have?

-> freaking 96 omg

10. How many followers do you have?

-> 674 WHOOP WHOOP

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

-> uh I don't think so?

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

-> uh I'm not so active here anymore but like an hour and a half a day? it's finna get higher cause summer break is in two days

14. Did you have a fight / argument with another blog once? Who won?

-> yup, i'd like to think I won because I ain't hear from them again. If you mess with my friends and babies, you're finna get confronted

15. How do you feel about ‘you need to compare this’ posts?

-> tf is that?

16. Do you like tag games?

-> yup but I don't do most of em, I just like seeing them so keep tagging me besties

17. Do you like ask games?

-> I do but if like multiple people send me the same ask it gets like,,, i forgot the freaking word

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

-> @cupidhaos @sunlightwoo @viastro @halohyuka (and famous famous her edits are amazing I love you katty) @masterninjacow @yeonjuncore y'all all famous bye

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

-> is it possible to have a crush on someone you're dating--

20. Tags:

-> @scintillasofbeomgyu @jay-kie @unlocktxt @halohyuka @xfirebenderx @itxxz and anyone else who wants to do this!

[lvllns]

hit us with that to be read list, reed! (do I need to beef up my own list and am I using you as a guidepost? maybe so)

cracks knuckles, it really depends on what you’re after but pretty much all of this list if sff, some of it ya and some na. under a cut bc. long. i’m not gonna get into too much detail bc otherwise i’d be here for aaaaaages, but if u wanna know about a specific book, feel free to ask!!

currently reading: the queen of nothing, which is the 3rd book in the folk of the air trilogy. i’ve been a fan of black since i first read tithe 15 years or so ago, and the first 2 books here were enjoyable! enemies to lovers, faerie prince and mortal girl who has a twin. tricksy faerie deals and all that good stuff.

we hunt the flame: first in a duology, i believe. ya high fantasy romance. genuinely know very little about this except it’s supposedly really good and i do like going in knowing very little so. uh. yeah.

kingdom of the cursed: releases in october. na romance fantasy. slapping this down because the first book, kingdom of the wicked, was really, really good. witches and demon princes, and a curse that to be broken and things breaking through the crumbling gates of hell. goodreads says ya, but i’ve seen new adult and this one is apparently spicier than the last one so.

ariadne: basically a retelling of ariadne and theseus. i’m wary bc i keep getting burned by greek mythology related books but i refuse to learn.

damnation spring: about a logger and his wife set in 1977 where they believe the use of pesticides are causing the abnormal amount of miscarriages in the community.

the body scout: SCIENCE FICTION BABEY. kobo has out of date cybernetics, his best friend gets murdered and he wants to do something about it.

the wolf in the whale: historical fantasy romance is what i have seen it listed as. a young inuit shaman runs away to try to save her family and bumps into a viking.

these violent delights: romeo and juliet retelling set in 1920s shanghai with rival gangs, first in a duology.

half sick of shadows: reimagining of arthurian myth.

jade city: first in a trilogy, described as a “godfather-esque saga” with blood feuds, magic, and viscous politics.

the killing moon: first of a duology. priests harvest the magic of the sleeping mind and kill those judged corrupt, and oh no now he has to protect the person he was supposed to kill bc someone is murdering innocent dreamers.

brother red: a body is found and the deeper she looks, the more deceit and corruption is uncovered.

daughter of sparta: reimagining of the story of apollo and daphne. i want it to be good but i am, once again, wary of mythology novels so we shall see.

the pariah: i’m actually really looking forward to this one, mostly bc orbit has been hyping it up for a bit now and i’m so intrigued. alwyn is raised as an outlaw, gets betrayed and becomes a soldier for the king’s army.

the next 2 howl’s moving castle books i almost forgot

also the witcher books at. some point.

there are so many others, like the falconer, among thieves, to kill a kingdom, caraval etc. but i would genuinely be here for ages so i just kind of randomly picked some from my big ass list that i’m either looking forward to or am curious about. most of these also have a fair bit of romance bc i like to shut my brain off when i read novels and i like romance dmkasgmsd.

outside of the sff/ya/na:

beowulf bc i love this epic

the song of roland since i just found my copy again lmao

the prince by machiavelli bc it’s been a bit since i last read it

the aeneid

i still need to read my iliad and odyssey fagles translations too whoops

coming back in bc i FORGOT about all the greek plays whoops, i have a big anthology called the greek plays that i need to finish so that too

so yeah!! that’s......a little chunk of the list lmao. i’m going to try to keep my reading tag going, although i posted NOTHING about tfota but that’s bc i was simply too enraptured and read the cruel prince and the wicked king in like. 4 hours a piece. NO TIME FOR POSTING. however, i’ll probably end up talking about everything ELSE i read so whatever isn’t on this list may very well make an appearance eventually lmao

[fleetingpieces]

Everything we were CH 4

I was kinda waiting to post the chapters I already have for this fic, but work is keeping me hostage and I couldn’t finish MOIAM and I miss writing, so here ya go

Enjoy some marauders❤️

Special thanks to @knittingdreams for being such an amazing friend and beta❤️

Please check the tags for CW!

Masterlist ¦ Ao3

Chapter 4

“GRYFFINDOR!”

When the Hat announced that to the whole school, Sirius felt the blood leave his face. His thoughts were all jumbled. He had always felt a bit different than the rest of his family, and in the last few years he’d started drifting further and further away from them. But the Blacks had always been in Slytherin. Yes, he had thought about the possibility of this happening, and some part of him actually felt relieved, but it was still a shock to hear. His first reaction was to look up to the Slytherin table, smiling slightly at his cousin. When he saw Narcissa’s fuming glare however, his smile fell and he looked down. It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity before the gryffindors erupted in a wild applause and cheer.

He quickly took the Hat off and walked to the table, feeling dumbstruck, until his eyes found James’ and the boy gave him a thumbs up with a happy grin. Sirius relaxed a fair amount after that, kind of enjoying the bemused faces smiling up at him as he took a place on the bench.

The red haired girl from the train, Evans, was the second student to be placed in Gryffindor. Sirius tried to make some space for her, given that they were now housemates, but as soon as the girl recognized him, she threw a pointed look his way and promptly ignored him. Sirius rolled his eyes. What a stuck up.

Then a boy named Remus Lupin got called to the front and sat down with the Hat, shifting nervously. After only one second, Sirius saw the boy’s body go completely still, his face turning awfully pale. He wondered what the Hat could be telling him. But then the boy got sorted into Gryffindor as well; he came to sit down next to Sirius in a dazed state similar to the one he himself had been in.

Two more girls were consecutively placed in their house. The gryffindors were almost howling at this point, but Lupin was looking down, not noticing anything around them, stuck in his own thoughts. So Sirius decided to take the initiative. They were going to spend basically 7 years together after all.

“Hello.”

He was faced with bright amber eyes, and it was only then that Sirius realized it was the lad from the station. The boy gave him an apprehensive once over, before his eyes stopped at the sleeves of his robes and stayed there. Sirius tilted his head as the silence dragged by. Then Lupin’s head snapped up and he replied shyly.

“Um, hi.”

Sirius smiled, somehow reminded of Regulus. He thought about something to say, but before he could come up with anything interesting, the students around him started cheering again, and a pudgy blond boy sat in front of them. Sirius suddenly thought of James and tried to locate him between the remaining students, finding him just as he was called over by Professor McGonagall.

When James put the Hat on his head, a sudden fear took hold of Sirius. What if James was sorted into another house? They had bonded so quickly the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. They wouldn’t be able to spend much time together if they were in different houses, and what if Sirius couldn’t make other friends?

His thoughts were put at ease fairly quickly though, as James was sorted into Gryffindor as soon as his bum had touched the stool.

The rest of the evening was a breeze of happiness for Sirius, with just a little prick of doubt. He knew his family was a bit obsessed with the snake house and purebloods, but surely they wouldn’t hate him for this. He could still achieve great results at school even if he was a Gryffindor, and he’d never really liked Narcissa anyway, so she could just bugger off. His parents wouldn’t care, right? 

However, he forgot all about that uneasiness when they were guided through the castle to the common room, and he and James struck an animated conversation with Nearly Headless Nick. All in all, it was a great start of his school life.

 ***

 There was a draft coming from one of the windows of the big Charms classroom, making Remus shiver. He pulled at the sleeves of his jumper to cover his hands completely, the movement reminding him how uncomfortable he felt in his new uniform. He wasn’t used to clothes like this, most of his wardrobe at home was muggle. Jeans and sweatshirts were so much better than shirts, trousers and Merlin, that damned tie. How the hell was anyone able to make that thing look good and not a rumpled knot was beyond him. The only redeeming fact about the piece of clothing was whatever charm came with it. Remus had been surprised that morning before breakfast, when he’d gone through his trunk and found that his tie and the lines at the cuffs and neck of his jumper had changed from black to bright red and gold. He was faintly aware that he shouldn’t have been so surprised by it, but he just couldn’t help but try to figure out which spell was used on the school uniforms.

A loud thump beside him made him look up.

“Man, how did you find the classroom so fast? I’ve been wandering around for ages with those bloody staircases and whatnot. Had to ask a prefect to help me!” Pettigrew ranted, noticing with a weary glance that he was the last one in, but he seemed relieved that the class hadn’t started yet.

Remus gave him a noncommittal hum. He had been avoiding the other boys as much as he could since the feast last night, which wasn’t easy given that apparently all four of them would be sharing a dorm together. It made things so much more complicated. Remus had to take special care to get changed in their private bathroom, he didn’t want any of them seeing his body.

Pettigrew opened his mouth to say something more, but then Professor Flitwick appeared behind the desk, standing on top of a pile of books that didn’t look too steady, if you asked Remus.

“Alright students, please take out your wands,” he said with a squeaky voice. “Today we are going to learn about the Levitation Charm. This charm is an excellent test of your magical skills, wand control, and above all, patience!”

Remus felt the excitement filling him up. Finally, he would be able to try his new wand! He hadn’t dared use it at his house, to risk giving the Ministry an excuse to visit them and find out about him. No, Remus had been very careful and had pushed down on his anxiety.

But now he could finally try his hand at some spells!

Looking up at the Professor with bright eyes, he listened carefully to the explanation, taking in every detail of the demonstration. He actually knew most of the theory already, as he had read about it while at home.

“Now, try it yourselves. Don’t forget to do the right wand movement!”

Remus looked at the big white feather in front of him. To keep the nervousness from showing, he gripped his wand tightly, feeling a warm sensation spreading to his fingers. The students around him were chanting the spell out loud, the swish of wands drifting through the air, whoops of joy when someone got it right.

It’s ok, calm down already, Remus thought to himself.

He squared his shoulders, flicked his wand once…and nothing happened. His eyebrows drew together as he tried again. Nothing. He could clearly hear other students had succeeded already, but his feather was as unmoving as it had been when he’d set it on top of the desk. Maybe he was doing something wrong? After a few more tries with the same result, Remus started panicking. Was he not good enough? Did he have zero magical skill?  Would the Headmaster realize he’d made a mistake and send him back home?

Then a darker, scarier thought crossed Remus’ mind. What if it had to do with him being a creature? Was he too much of a monster already that he couldn’t use magic anymore? His condition had taken so much from him already, that he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Remus was scared to look up, but if his lack of magic was a characteristic of his kind, he had to make sure that no other student had noticed. No one could know. Glancing around, he saw Pettigrew waving his wand frantically, sweat forming on his forehead, the white plume in front of him lying lazily on the table. With a tiny bit of hope, he noticed that quite a few students were still having problems, even if most of them seemed to have gotten at least some reaction from their feathers. Except from him and Pettigrew, that is. Apparently, they were the only ones not accomplishing anything.

Remus exhaled a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He wasn’t a complete monster yet.

The teacher had said they would need patience, so he kept trying and trying, purposefully avoiding to look at Potter and Black, who were making their own quills clash around in the air while laughing. The theory was all in his head, the words and wand movement fresh in his memory, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the way magic was supposed to work. The practical part of it was completely new, he had no reference as to what it should be like, as he hadn’t had any way to practice this at home.

Just as the bell rang, Remus felt something clicking in his head. The feather made a turn in the air, making his heart skip a beat, and he smiled happily as it hovered shakily in front of his eyes.

“Merlin, at least you were able to do it in the end,” said Pettigrew with a bitter scowl.

The pudgy boy had only managed to make his quill toss and turn on the table top. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I think yours was taking off that last time.”

Pettigrew's face lit up a bit, and Remus wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Was that comment too friendly?

“Good on you, Lupin!” said a voice from behind them. Remus turned around to face Potter, who had Black sitting right next to him. “A lot of people don’t get it on the first lesson. At least that’s what my Dad said.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if they were making fun of him or not. All the other students were leaving already, the sound of shuffling feet on the hallways filling the air. So he gave Potter a small nod and hurried out as well, leaving the boys slightly stunned. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t know how else to interact with them. It would be better if he didn’t have to do that at all.

The first year gryffindors had some free time before lunch and, thinking about ways to keep himself busy, Remus decided to explore the castle a bit. It really was a pain to get around without getting lost, Remus had only found the classroom by following other students discreetly. He wanted to get acquainted with every hall and passage, and he really wanted to figure out the pattern of those bloody moving staircases. He’d nearly fallen five floors that morning when one of them started moving just as he was getting on.

Remus reached the hallway on the third floor, thinking about how nobody seemed to mention anything about the multiple dangerous things the school housed. Maybe that was why he’d been allowed to attend.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice there was something in his way until he bumped face first into it. Rubbing his nose and cursing under his breath, he looked up to find Avery, the bulky first year from Slytherin, looking down his nose at him.

“Watch where you’re going, you dirty scum.”

The boy was barely a few inches taller than him, but he was wide; his arms were probably three times the size of Remus’. His short dark hair was cut in a way that made his jaw look sharper and his brown eyes harder. Avery had his arms crossed over his chest, studying Remus like he was a piece of meat. Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

The situation reminded him an awful lot of some experiences he’d had with some neighbourhood kids when he and his family had lived in East Sussex. Avery seemed like the kind of mindless bully that would love to pick on Remus just because of his small and scrawny complexion. Those other kids had certainly enjoyed making him their preferred target. But it was precisely because of that, that Remus knew to keep an eye on his surroundings and scurry when necessary. So he went around Avery, muttering a half-hearted apology and trying to move along, but was soon stopped by another figure that came from behind the slytherin.

“What’s the problem here?” a tall boy with platinum hair drawled. Remus contained a whine and looked up, he’d almost gotten away. There was contempt in the bloke’s voice as he looked at Remus. “Who are you?”

Remus silently studied the blonde for a second. The way he held himself, like he was royalty, was similar to Black’s, but different at the same time. His robes were equally expensive, he had a green and silver tie, and a badge pinned to his chest. Of course he was a prefect. Remus had that kind of luck. There was something in the older boy’s pale blue eyes that was making Remus’ hairs stand on end; he looked like he could be trouble, the kind Remus was aiming to avoid as much as possible.

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin?” the prefect sneered. “I’ve heard about your father’s preferences. You are a half-blood.”

It wasn’t a question, so Remus didn’t deign to give him a reply. The way he’d said the last word though, as if it was rotten garbage in his mouth, had Remus frowning. What did that even mean? The bloke was making him nervous, and Remus tried not to shift in place. He didn’t want anyone looking at him that closely, let alone a prefect. No one could know.

“Um, who are you?” his voice sounded smaller than he would have liked, and Avery smirked as the prefect narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“Watch your mouth, boy. It’s Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. You’d do well to remember my name.”

As Malfoy took a step forward, a large group of students appeared around the corner, almost bumping into them when they filled the whole corridor. Remus decided to use that chance to get away before things could get worse, and as the students walked past he blended in with them and disappeared into another hallway. He’d learn to recognize when someone was best to avoid, and Malfoy was definitely someone he didn’t want to cross paths with more than necessary.

Remus walked fast, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, and went in the first room he could find. Closing the door behind him, he leaned into it and closed his eyes. It was his first day of school, and he’d already had to escape from some possible bullies. He wasn’t kidding himself, the kids from his old neighbourhood had no idea why Remus was so weird, but he knew the students at Hogwarts would be able to tell if he showed enough signs, if they saw his scars. He hoped running away hadn’t made things worse.

Sighing, Remus opened his eyes again and was stunned to see where he’d ended up in his haste.

Books.

Thousands of books, right in front of him, neatly organized on shelves. He glanced around with his mouth slightly open. Rows and rows of bookcases, going from one wall to the other, filled the room. There were only a handful of windows that filtered the morning light, giving the space a calm atmosphere. A few students were sitting on the tables scattered all over the big room, but everything was so very quiet; the only sounds were those of quills going over parchment and pages turning.

Remus walked ahead, his eyes glued to all those old volumes, until he reached the front desk and a woman with a deep scowl appeared in his line of sight.

“Are you lost?” she barked.

She was looking at him as if he didn’t belong there. Remus felt himself shrink under that look, but the temptation was too much to just let it slide.

“No, um…are we allowed to borrow any of these books?” He knew that his eyes were wide, probably making him look a bit insane, but he couldn’t erase the expression from his face. To his surprise, the woman’s glare dimmed a little bit. Not enough to make her look less scary though.

“You can borrow any book, except for those on the Restricted Section.” She pointed to the back of the library, where a rope separated some books from the rest. “You’ll need a signed note from a teacher to have one of those checked out. The other books you can read here or take out of the library, if you get my permission first. But I warn you, if you tear, fold, smear or damage these books in any way, the consequences will be quite severe.”

She fixed him with a stern look, and Remus smiled shyly.

“I will be very careful, I promise.”

The librarian looked mildly surprised, but Remus wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. He was staring in awe at all the knowledge sitting in the room, waiting for him to dig into it. The charm they’d learned that morning had been harder than he’d expected, but he was pretty sure he had figured it out now. Maybe he could find a corner of the library to tuck himself away and practice some more. He could even find out which spells they would be learning, and try to learn them ahead of time to avoid himself more embarrassment. Remus hoped that if he practiced enough, he would be able to understand magic better and struggle less. Smiling to himself, he set off to explore the tall shelves.

[yixxes]

The Birthday Gift (II)

Warning: none 

Word count: 1035

Summary: Every mistake requires a meaningful apology.

A/N: A second part to this imagine was requested by a couple of people so here it is (: Probably would’ve been here faster had I not been crying over ATLA and getting my ass whooped at lotería. Enjoy!

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One of the first things that you learned when you stepped into the spotlight was that once you were in, it was hard to get out. 

When you signed your first contract, you unknowingly signed away all of the privacy that you previously had. It wasn’t always easy to accept the lack of seclusion, but for the most part you managed. Yesterday and today, you were doing the complete opposite of managing. 

You were absolutely certain that photos of you swinging on your ex were taken by at least one pap, and yet, coincidentally, none of them made the cut. Why? Because an article about a renowned star remaining loyal to her long-time boyfriend wouldn’t sell. They had to spin a story that painted you as some kind of promiscuous hussy because it attracted the attention of vultures that threw their money at those kinds of scandals, and so the song remained the same: the media’s pockets were filled and you came up short handed. You lost sleep in a beautiful hotel, beyond distraught about losing two of the best things that had ever happened to you. 

While you readied yourself the following morning to dive deep into the complimentary breakfast buffet, Tom and Emma sat in the lobby waiting for you to come down. 

It was generally frowned upon and sort of stalker-ish to use someone’s shared location without them knowing, but Tom was much too nervous and ashamed to text or call you. He figured he’d show up to where you were and beg for forgiveness. After what he saw a few hours ago, he couldn’t sit around and think about what he’d say when he spoke to you again. 

Last night, Tom got about as much sleep as you did, which was why he was awake around 4 a.m. when a random account from Instagram DM’ed him the rest of the photos that the tabloids ‘forgot’ to publish. The proof was right there in front of him that you were innocent and that he was so terribly wrong. He felt sick to his stomach going through the pictures. Had he given you the chance to speak the way that he did, you could’ve explained all of it to him. He should’ve believed you and been there to comfort you after some jerk forced himself on you, but he was too busy throwing you out. He couldn’t imagine how you must’ve been feeling. 

As soon as Emma woke up, Tom got her dressed and ready to go, made a quick stop, and then hauled ass to the hotel that your shared location brought him to. Since Emma was an early riser, they got to the hotel around 8. You came down for breakfast about an hour later. 

“There she is,” Tom told his daughter, grabbing up the bouquet of flowers with a firm grasp. Emma looked up from her doll with wide eyes. “come on, darling, we’re gonna go up to her carefully and ask her if she’ll-”

“Y/n!” Emma snatched the flowers from her father and ran over to you. You turned just in time for her to smack right into your lower half. She wrapped her arms around you, unintentionally roughhousing the doll and the cellophane wrap of the flowers. 

“Em, what are you doing here?” you picked her up and hugged her, looking past her to spare Tom a guarded look. He could’ve been there to tell you off some more, but the flowers implied something different. You watched him carefully approach with a nervous look on his face and his hands in his pocket.

Tom nodded towards the flowers. “Those are for you, um.. can we talk for a second?”

The three of you winded up right back where the two of them had been sitting for the past hour, but Emma sat a few chairs away with her doll, out of earshot.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he confessed miserably. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. There’s absolutely no excuse and no apology that could make up for the way that I treated you yesterday. I didn’t give you a chance to speak, I just jumped to conclusions because I thought that-” he stopped short to take a breath, overwhelmed and completely vulnerable. “Look, I know that we’ve been together for a while already, but to this day, it’s still a wonder to me how someone so perfect could find their happiness in someone like me. You’re one of the best things that I’ll ever know and I’m absolutely terrified of losing you. And I know, I know that that’s not an excuse, I should’ve let you talk and I should’ve trusted your truth, and I didn’t and I’m the worst man alive for treating you so bad, but I promise I will make it up to you. I’ll work on us, I’ll work on me, I.. I’ll do whatever it takes. I truly am so sorry.”

You knew he was. The truth of the matter was that he did mess up. And he’d continue to mess up and make mistakes and so would you. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. The way he acted was shit, but you already went one night sleeping without the two loves of your life and you didn’t want to go through that kind of agony again. He fucked up, but here he was, all pride aside, acknowledging and owning up to his mistake. He’d make up for it in time.

“I know you are.” Tom rushed into a hug as soon as you said that, relieved beyond compare that he was forgiven. “Just don’t do something like that to me again, alright? You really worried me.”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry.” he sniffled into your shoulder. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too, Tommy.”

Emma wriggled her small frame in between the two of you and sat right in your lap. “I bet they have a nice, giant pool around here somewhere. Can we go in? Pleeease!?”

You and Tom laughed, the both of you happy to be exactly where you were. 

“Yeah, I think we can make it work.”

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A/N: k so I’m just gonna tag the people that asked for/mentioned a part two to the first one, hope you guys don’t mind, and thank you for reading.

@iwriteaboutstuff​ @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory​ @miss-cap21 @sushiinmidnight​

@junetto @the-endoftime​ @thescarletknight2014​ @hollandinq​ @adriannajackson​

[serinesaccade]

v v V interested in a rec list when u get a chance !!!

HULLO again I feel very awkward compiling a rec list when I am a newcomer to the fandom and there’s a long, strong history here. but anyway here we go, my 15 ExR fic bookmarks sorted to show the most recently updated. give the authors some love y’all. you are being exposed to my favorite ExR aspects here which are essentially mutual pining, comedic dialogue, and tenderness.

pls rec me things if you have ‘em. i did skip over fics with the same author to spread it out. as a general rule if I liked a fic I’ve read everything else that author has to offer WHOOPS

1. Winter and Water Pitchers by Anonymous. oohhhh, the water pitcher metaphor. the tenderness

2. how sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by Tegami. you WILL be emotionally wrecked. you WILL read shakespeare’s sonnets afterwards. you WILL feel very gay

3. Personal Gain by kjack89: this is well done and incomplete and I am eagerly awaiting the last chapter for that sweet sweet resolution

4. Orpheus, play yourself a path from Hades by Shitposting from the Barricade. anyway this was just some good fun with a cultivated flair to it. also there is the potential for pining. this is important to me

5. I Will Fear no Evil by Fiver. anyway I think most les mis fans know of this series but it is in the list and I’m obsessed with this series as a general rule

6. impatient to be free by idiopathic smile. idiopathicsmile consistently writes fanfic that makes ME want to write fanfic of their fanfic. I legit have thousands of words of fanfic that will never see the light of day bc I think it’d be creepy to show. WHATEVER READ THIS IT’S LESBIANS

7. Something Telling (Between THen and Now) by dannypuro: again this author could come into my house and smack me and I would be v grateful so pls read this. read all of their work. you will regret nothing.

8. Cheers to the Future by Feathraly: LESBIANS AND LOVE CONFESSIONS READ IT IMMEDIATELY. REALLY. Feathraly I done messed up and didn’t comment on this initially so that’s my b and I will do that today SORRY

9. so when you’re near me by sol52: this is really cute. apparently everyone and their mom loves hockey and I’ve never Understood but this fic was great

10. Guided By A Beating Heart by torakowalski: this fic wrecked me. I love torakowalski and it’s so finely crafted. read it and weep binches

11.Short Circuit by Raddtaire: I came to this fic with the impression it would be like. funny. and then was subsequently walloped with Feelings and Pining and what sort of equates to identity reveal. anyway I’ve read it twenty times and I love it

12. ours are the moments i play in the dark: yes so this was tagged “inexplicit sex” which was a tag I thought only i used. immediately i entered the fic to hunt down my twin’s wordplay and then i was consumed whole

13. we need umbrellas on the inside by anivhee: insecurity is *chef’s kiss* my life and so is miscommunication. sidenote I love anivhee

14. The Icarus Experiment. so I loved Maximum Ride and then eventually hated that book’s author with the burning fires of a woman who acknowledged his writing style Is Upsetting but his ideas are excellent. like. his execution ruined everything for me. the execution of this fic is GREAT so it was like everything I could’ve asked for and forgot I wanted in the time since MR was published. thank you, fic author. you fixed Maximum Ride. I don’t know how you did that, but you did.

15. In starlit nights I saw you by hi0ctane: most of the other fics on here are modern day, but I do actually read non-modern fic. *points* it is sweet

[roscgcld]

JJK manga spoilers at the undercut! long tanget at the undercut!

(Continued for the storytelling!) Okay so 👀 in a very tragic turn of events where Gojo tries to Yuta-style his way out of the Prison Realm, but it goes oopsies and he's actually 'dead' dead and MC stares in disbelief at what she's seeing because this can NOT be real, oh but I'm sorry it is. And this is the one thing, the image of his best friend lying dead in front of him, that gives Geto much longer control over his body and he crawls over to Gojo and his hands are shaking.

(Part 2) He's clawing at himself to wake up from this nightmare to no avail. Nothing will change what's happened and MC flips, kicks him in the face, grabs him by his clothes and slams him onto the nearest surface yelling about how "is this what it takes for you to finally snap out of it?!" why couldn't he have done it sooner??! MC is filled with rage. That's not Geto. She knows it's not Geto, but she's just so angry from her warped sorrow and tells him that even though he changed so much.

(Part 3) and did all those things as a Curse User, she still grieved for him. She missed him so freaking much, dreaming of what could be with all of them together. She hated the fact he had to die because of those actions, and now??? What good is snapping out of it now when she knows she'll have to kill him again because the real Geto already died once before and once she ends the life of whatever is controlling him, the remnents of Suguru will die out again as well. Shes losing them both again.

(Part 4) "What went wrong those 11 years ago??!" They're both such idiots, she thinks, crying furiously. Stupid mistakes, stupid actions. What was Satoru thinking? Why would he try something like that? Why couldn't they have communicated better, why did all those little things have to add up until they got to this point, something that never should've happened? The pain and the sorrow, the hammering of her heart and difficulty breathing is too much. "I can't live in a world without Satoru."

(Part 5) And Suguru looks so sad, and he tries to tell her it's the real him- she knows, tells her that he's sorry. Tries to crawl over back to Satoru's corpse, MC tells him bluntly that he better not lose control as she lets him while keeping a careful eye on him, she won't let Satoru get hurt if the Thing takes over again. She can see in between his words and mumbling to his friend's corpse that he's fighting, and fighting even more once he tells her the name of what's controlling him.

(Part 6) "Kenjaku." He pleads with her, crying out her name to listen as he says. The Thing was after the Six Eyes, with Satoru dead another will be born, but a baby cannot replace The Strongest, the Honored One, (oh how she knows, Satoru was all she had left.) What he asks of her, is impossible. She cannot defile his body in such a way. To take out his eyes, replace her own with them. Her body is compatible to different cursed energies, like moldable clay, and with Shoko's healing.

(Part 7) the transplant has a chance of working flawlessly. She hates it. Satoru is worth more than his stupid powers, but Suguru is trying hard to fight Kenjaku twisting his tongue and silencing his voice, he's croaking out desperately, that if she wants everyone to live, for all her friends to live and defeat The Thing then she must. The Six Eyes have always been its worst enemy. She cannot let that power die out when the world needs it for salvation. She agrees.

(Part 8) She apologies. For kicking him in the face. It's fine, Suguru says, he's forgives it, and he knows it was somewhat deserved. Its time now, they know what needs to be done. It's over quick and easy, one shot through his heart, and not a trace of blood drops to the ground, the wound seared shut from the heat of her attack. The only traces of Suguru Geto that remains on this earth are the bloodstains miles away from here in Shibuya, at the Tomb of the Star, where destiny was destroyed.

(Part 9) Before she ends it all, she makes a wish. If they were to be reborn again, it'd be nice if they could find each other once more and make sure everything goes right. Suguru had smiled when she let her technique go. He too, had promises to keep. "Say hello to Satoru in heaven for me." She forces a smile on her own face, tears having not yet dried. No use holding onto her rage as she takes away Suguru's life. That shouldn't be the last thing he sees.

(Part 10) She'll have to comfort herself with this, that they were at least together now. She hopes they can rest peacefully, it'll be the only kind thing given to them at this point. It'd been far too long and they deserve that rest so long overdue from the harsh tales their birth had woven into them. (Reaching for Gojo's eyes feels like betrayal. Note: I want that one line to be a total opposite of another line earlier on in their fight where she says, "Well then, come dance with me in hell!")

(Part 11) when fake!Geto probs said something about sending her there as a farewell or goodbye or whatever, idk haven't worked that bit out yet lol. It's so I can contrast the change in her negative mindset to being much calmer, to think of something more positive for those two. That 'that's' where they'll be. Suguru isn't the kind of evil Kenjaku is. It's the final acknowledgement and fully giving up her hatred.) Omg this is so long, I'm sorry. I hope its enjoyable at least??? *hearts and hugs*

Lol whoops, I forgot to mention but MC also kinda slaps Suguru after kicking him in the face and it's that moment of being stunned that lets her grab him, it's good that the "real" Geto doesn't fight back because geez Kenjaku controlling him is way too strong, a long-distance fighter and a great martial artist. At least then it's easier to get him in a chokehold and try to rip off the stitches hiding that cowardly brain.

Idk why but I think it’s cause I have no idea who your MC is that I am not really following lol. And I am not that great with canon material, but I am sure that Gege has mentioned that there isn’t much of Suguru left in his body. Cause even though his technique and his heart and all is there, I think the brain (or Kenjaku)’s power is to not only take over the host, but also shape themselves around the core of the host’s spirit. So in general it’s kinda like Mahito?

But I guess I enjoyed it? Idk it’s a lot, I can’t process much of it because I think I am too in the dark of your MC, but I also enjoy the entire thing? Idk, I am a mess of how I should feel cause I can barely process the entire Shibuya Arch lol. 

Also does that mean that the Gojo clan does not have a head anymore? How is that going to work? Or are they going to take her in as the new head? Wouldn’t the world’s axis shift too cause because she isn’t the original owner of the Six Eyes. She doesn’t know how to use his Technique - I am assuming she is a no name before she took his eyes. Doesn’t that mean that open up an entire new Arch in your timeline as it is?

Honestly, now that I look over it again, there is so much going on that I am surprised that there are people out there with such rainbow brains to be able to think of something as insane as this. There is so much detail that it kinda blows my mind lol. 

But I love that you shared so much cool ideas with me, anon! if you ever write this, do tag me so that i can read. or tag me in your entire MC timeline - I would love to explore this even more!

[phonaesthemes]

tag game thing

@padawanyugi tagged me a while ago (12 days apparently) and i forgot entirely about this until i saw it half-done in a note, whoops.

1) Why did you choose your url i wanted something linguistics-related and initially picked "phonesthemes" but thought it looked like phones-themes so i ended up using the alternate spelling. 

2) any side-blogs ? if you have them, name them and why you have them glittery-phonaesthemes, which initially was like travel/sci-fi stuff but now it's just where i put literally everything else in the hopes of not annoying people who followed me for language stuff.

3) how long have you been on tumblr ? that is a good question. apparently since february of 2015!

4) do you have a queue tag ? ahahah no. tagging anything on my phone is a rage-inducing experience so i only bother for content warning kinds of things now

5) why did you start your blog in the first place i was kind of in between communities and had seen content from tumblr elsewhere and decided to give it a shot

6) why did you choose your icon/pfp ? i couldn't think of anything related to my blog theme that wasn't a wug (not that there’s anything wrong with that) so it's a picture i took of a statue that i really liked in helsinki

7) why did you choose your header ? do i have one?? i think it's a foresty something or other maybe?? i like trees??

8) what’s your post with the most notes ? i’m not actually sure but after the nsfw crackdown, one of my (exceedingly rare) posts got flagged and i bitched about it ("those are back vowels not boobs" or something) and it escaped lingblr and gathered some notes

9) how many mutuals do you have ? 86 apparently

10) how many followers do you have ? 638

11) how many people do you follow ? 315

12) have you ever made a shitpost ? probably. maybe less so on tumblr compared to Elsewhere

13) how often do you use tumblr each day ? it varies. a lot less now bc i just have less time

14) did you have a fight/argument with another blog once ? who won? no, but i would not win, i am more the type to let someone else have the last word lol

15) how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts ? i remember getting chain emails back on hotmail and i am kind of surprised at how that medium has evolved (or not)

16) do you like tag games ? yes very much, although i am TERRIBLE about checking my tags

17) do you like ask games ? it depends! i like sending in asks when i see them because i think most people enjoy "mail" (and if they didn't, why post reblog the game?)

18) which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous ? i have had mutuals who were lingblr infamous, does that count 

19) do you have a crush on a mutual ? no, although there is at least one where i think we followed each other for language stuff but they've gone through like 5 other themes since then and possibly a few new names, and although i still enjoy their content (their Untamed phase may be waning, so i am excited to see the next fixation), i can never help trying to remember what the hell their old name was, just out of curiosity. they’re one of my oldest mutuals!

20) tags i am too nervous to tag anyone, but please feel free to tag me or say that i tagged you if you want to talk about yourself too.

[senadimell]

30 Questions Meme

I was tagged by @alwaysdramatizing​! It’s taken me a while to get to it, but thank you so much for thinking of me. ^^

Rules: Answer these 30 questions then tag 20 people you wanna get to know better.

1. Name/Nickname: Poly/Polly

2. Gender: Female

3. Star Sign: Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.

4. Height: Tall enough to reach things off the shelves, but shorter than my brothers

5. Time: fun fact, there are three different time zones in my phone clock and my alarm clock is in military time.

6. Birthday: Okay this is a liiiiiittttle too password guess-y

7. Favorite Band: hm hm hm, I really like Open the Door for Three, but Värttinä is also cool! Also the Grissini Project

8. Favorite Solo Artist: um...right now either Rachel Hardy or Colm McGuiness?

9. Song currently stuck in your head: Colm McGuiness’ cover of Sleeping in the Cold Below

10. Last movie watched: The Pacifier. Not of my choosing, but my brother giggled a lot.

11. Last show watched: Loki Actually, I over-watched a Spiderman show my brothers are watching! Miles, vampires, and a multiverse were involved.

12. When I created this blog: 2020, circa March?

13. What I post: hehehe, at this point I don’t know. Some art, some ramblings and over-analysis, a few fandoms I don’t have a sideblog for. Whatever strikes my fancy, really.

14. Last thing I googled: psych I don’t use google! But the last thing I remember searching was ASAN, but I forgot what the acronym actually was and searched ASEAN instead, which is...very different, but also up my alley.

15. Other blogs of yours: I run a Doctor Who blog, a Harry Potter (mostly Snape) blog, a Lord of the Rings blog, and this one random place I reserve to dump writing thoughts.

16. Following: 105

17. Do you get asks?: Rarely! Though I have been tagged a fair bit, which is fun.

18. Why you chose your URL: ummmmm so I happen to have a list of names I’ve been collecting and I like the way this one sounds, and it also wouldn’t fit the naming conventions of any of the stories I’d like to write, so I used it!

19. Lucky number: 13, because younger me thought it was Cool to pick an unlucky number (but also it’s prime and fibonacci, so that’s actually cool).

20. Followers: 123? I’ve probably got some p*rn bots in there, better clean house.

21. Average hours of sleep:  7-8 hours. Yes. Good. That’s taken some work! Though sometimes I get 6.5 or 3. Those are the increments that seem to work.

22. Play any instruments: Piano! Pretty well. Clarinet, eh, it’s been a few years and I need new reeds. Ocarina, not very well at all, pan flute, marginally better than ocarina.

23. What’re you wearing: hiking pants, dressy t-shirt, old house sweater, socks. Hairstick bun, headphones.

24. Dream job: One that I am not painfully bored in and do not dread. Not too loud or bright.

25. Favorite food:  Mangos are brilliant. So are cherries. And bread. Especially bagels.

26. Nationality: US of A

27. Favorite song: Proud, cover by Susan Boyle. Oof, that one rings so true.

28. Last song you listened to: Jenny of Oldstones (Grissini Project version), I think! Or it may have been a rendition of The Wellerman. Nope, I am not over it.

29. Last book you read: Currently reading Why I Jump, by Naoki Higashida. Before that, Welcome to the Autistic Community, and before that Ender in Exile (which is REALLY not my cup of tea but I was reading for a loved one).

30. 3 fictional universes you’d love to live in: I’ve been fascinated by the X-men universe for a long time, sans space threats or the Conflict-driving THREAT OF DOOM type stuff, but more along the socio-political side of things, probably because it is not so far off from our own. I would love to travel with the Doctor. ^^

(Whoops, forgot to pass it on!) @lifeisinthepixels, @ladyzayinwonderland if you’re interested!