#i want to just print off both draft one and what i have so far of draft two and like

[redgoldsparks]

I went all out for Hourly Comics Day 2025! These took between 6-7 hours to draw across three days, and then another at least hour to scan and edit which I wasn't in the mood to do which is why they are a week late lol. Had a wonderful time at Lumacon though and I'm glad I was able to document it! Transcript below the cut :)

insta / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my books / print store / bluesky

Page 1

7:50am: Alarm goes off

Morning phone: check eSIMs, insta, discord, Spanish vocab 

El tiene pelo largo 

Jonathan Van Ness, is that you…?

Drops App 

8am: My friends gave me a delicious new black tea that’s very easy to over steep 

3 minutes seemed too long, but 2:30 was a bit weak… I’ll try 2:45… 

Honestly, I prefer a tea where I can leave the bag in the whole time I drink the cup… 

For the first time in many years I’m actually doing something cool on hourly comics day! Today is Lumacon! This is the show’s 11th year- I think I’ve only missed 1. For the first time, it’s raining on con day!

Page 2

I’m so glad we had another avocado!

This bagel was so chunky I cut it into perfect thirds. Perfection

It’s so rare that I’m awake before my parents… SIP

Should I write about Larrupin sauce? My friend Alina buys this for me up in Humboldt since it’s hard to find… 

Every object/moment suggests a story when I’m paying attention! 

8 to 9am

Page 3 

Pick up Martina! Very cute raincoat (@martinamonster-art )

Chatting and Ateez on the drive 9 to 9:30

OMG why am I drawing cars :( 

LUMACON! 10-11AM 

My newest zine is a recruitment zine for Authors Against Book Bans (AABB). 

I zero in on folks I know to be authors–

Maia: I want you– 

Author: Me? 

Maia: To join AABB! (info zine)

Author: Oh thanks! I will! 

Maia: This zine is so fun to hand out!

Page 4 

Teen: Thank you so much for writing Gender Queen. I gave it to my mom and she credits it for a lot of her understanding. I came out as gender queer a year ago and she said “I love you.” I don’t know if that would have been possible without the book! 

Maia: Thank you for saying that! 

Different teen: I want to buy a copy of your book but I need to make more sales first. 

Maia: Where’s your table? 

Teen: Behind you 

Look. 

I spot some of the cutest round crochet bois I’ve ever seen including a nonbinary bee

Maia: Can I please trade you a book for that bee?! 

Teen: OMG yes! 

You know it’s a good trade when both parties think they got the better deal! 

12pm 

Page 5

I check in with Anna (@thebeanbaguette) 1pm 

Maia: How’s the con so far? 

Anna: Really good! I love how many furries are here! 

Maia: Oh yeah it’s fun

Maia: I had never seen the skull fursuit head before this show… for the size event it’s impressive furry turn out 

Cute goth/pastel couple 

Anna: To be honest, I’d love to get a fursuit head one day… and the hands! 

Anna: But I don’t know what animal…

(Table is covered in cute rats)

Later, another friend comments 

Cynthia: So many furries here! 

Maia: Yes, the per capita is very high… sign of a healthy ecosystem! 

(we all wore masks all day I just forgot to draw them) 

Page 6 

My friend Nic comes to visit & cover my table during my lunch break- 2pm

Nic: Don’t worry I’ll do my best impersonation of you! I’ll even sign books with your name!

Maia: Okay, great, thanks!

Maia: (Has not had water, snack or bathroom break in 6 hours)

Later we chat with Gio, another friend about knowing when a story is done

Maia: I had a publisher reject a pitch basically saying “this isn’t fully baked yet” which… was true. 

Nic: Unfortunately I’m doing that to myself! I’m on the 4th draft of this short story that just needs to be done. 

Gio: But when it’s a personal project how do you know? 

Gio: When it’s my own work, no deadline, no editor, it’s tempting to just keep putting it back in the oven. But at what point are you like, I’m making crackers. I thought it was bread but it turned into crackers! 

Page 7

3-4pm last hour of the con

My parents came! My Taekwondo teacher came! A trans teen who came to my first Gender Queer event in 2019 came! I saw so many friends & my heart is full! Thank you Luma! 

4:30

Maia: I think I’m ready to go…

Table: EMPTY

Martina: Me too! 

Maia & Martina: LOOK 

Anna- nothing packed, stuff fully out

Anna: Haha, you go! I pack slowly! 

In the parking lot & rain 

Maia: I’m really glad you came! 

Martina: Thanks for talking me into it! 

Martina: You’ve been manifesting this since September! 

Maia: Haha yes, 

(I talked both Martina & Anna into applying for this show; Martina’s first zinefest table! 

Page 8

5pm I drive home 

after all the rain, the ditches & fields are flooded 

Maia (texting): I just got home

Anna (texting): I haven’t left the venue yet

Page 9

6pm I should be unpacking but I’m lying in bed looking at my phone! 

Maia: Wow so many hourlies! I haven’t even started! I’d rather read them on tumblr & patreon later. How is my finch doing? 

Nic incepted our entire friend group into the finch app back in January. I’m pretty hooked. In the finch app you make a little bird persona who travels the world & gains experiences. You give it energy & earn points by crossing items off your to do list & completing self care tasks like stretching or drinking water. 

Maia: To be honest, I don’t really need an app to help me do tasks. But look how cute my bird is!!! Also! You can get pets for your bird! I have five! Owl, seal, caribou, ball of fluff, cow

Later, I pet my real cat. 

Maia: Don’t worry you are my actual favorite pet. 

Page 10 

7pm: Dinner with my parents. Big salad, fried tofu. We talk about clay deposits in odd places. 

My dad: There’s that Bentonite clay at Shell Beach! That’s the kind you want for poison oak rashes. 

My mom: And the deposit at school by the office, some teachers have kids use that for crafts. 

8pm: Formatting my January book reviews

I really like the monthly wrap-ups that Storygraph generates. 

Books: 11 Pages: 2855 Average Rating: 3.91

LGBTQIA: 5 Fantasy: 4 Comic: 4 Contemporary: 3 Romance: 3

9pm: I fall into the trap of looking at the news which I’ve avoided all day. Escape to tumblr where I discover some amazing Ranma ½ fanart. Should I reread it? 

10-12am: I draw the first 4 pages of these comics then go to bed! 

In total, drawing these takes 6 or 7 hours across 3 days. -Maia Kobabe 2025 

[effiecalvin]

Hi everyone, I just wanted to give an update on where I'm at on the reprint and everything. This is gonna cover a couple different things.

So, my original plan last year was to release book 7 on patreon in the same way that I released book 6, but taking my rights back from NSP threw all my plans into complete chaos. While I still don't regret it (I feel better than I have in a long time, honestly), my plan to republish the entire series in 2025 turned out to be a little too ambitious. I really wanted them back online so quickly that most people wouldn't even have time to notice they were gone. But when I sat down with TQOI for the first time in years, I realized just how many problems my publisher had missed and how much better it could be if I had an editor who actually cared about the story.

At first I was sort of resistant to this because

It would slow down my release schedule significantly

Professional editors are expensive

I didn't believe I would be able to find a professional editor who cared about my work

Luckily, I managed to find an editor who not only is already familiar with the books, but has agreed on a payment plan that will take a huge burden off me. I had talked a little bit about crowdfunding to cover costs, but I felt so guilty doing that when people have already been supporting me on patreon.

I think the reason why I initially thought I'd be able to rerelease the series all in the same year was because I was thinking about them as a series. Like, releasing ONE series instead of SIX books. Yeah. I don't know. That sounds dumb. I don't know why my brain did that.

So, where I'm at right now is we're looking at Winter 2025 for a release of TQOI. I know that's way later than any of us wanted, but TQOI was the weakest book in the series by a long shot and it needs significantly more edits than the later books. I'm hoping the release pace for the rest of the series will be much faster once we're past it. At the same time, I'm really excited about all the changes I'm making. It's going to have more chapters, more scenes, and more character development, and I hope it will just be a superior story overall. No major worldbuilding elements are going to change, it's just a lot of small details that I think will add up in the end. I did joke about giving everyone normal names, but I think it wouldn't quite feel like Inthya anymore if I did that.

I've also contacted Brenda Scott Wlazlo, who read the audiobooks, and she's agreed to read the revised versions! I know so many people love Brenda's voice, and so I was thrilled when I was able to bring her back in. I'm really hoping we can get the book and audiobook out at the same time, but there might be a slight delay simply because she can't start on the audio until the final draft of the book is finished.

As far as Patreon goes, I want to get back into giving it the attention it deserves. Like I mentioned above, I was originally planning to release book 7 on there, but I'm not sure that's a good idea while the series is out of print and Princess of Domeysil is unedited and certain elements of the continuity are in flux. So, what I'm thinking is once I've got a little more breathing room (I'm drowning in TQOI right now), I'm going to start on a novella about either Lexandrie and Svana or Lisette and The Courier Who Definitely Has A Name I Promise and release those on Patreon instead. I'm leaning towards Lisette because 1. I want to show more stuff about Courier Culture and 2. that seems to be what people want most, but I'd like to write both and maybe release them as a combo book or something.

I'm also thinking about trying to run a Discord server for Patreon supporters again. I did try one a long time ago in the past but it didn't quite work out for a couple reasons. I think I'm in a better place mentally now and, most importantly, I know how to stand up for myself against people who push my boundaries and make me feel afraid. I'm not going to promise that a sever will definitely 100% happen, but it's something I find myself thinking about a lot.

Okay, I think that's everything for now. Thank you so much for sticking with me when I've been so quiet.

EDIT: Another thing to add is I'm not sure if I want to release book 7 on Patreon. Book 6 as it is now is basically an unedited rough draft, and that's a little embarrassing for me, especially since I'm afraid of it leaking to piracy sites and people thinking it's the final version. I think it might be better to write book 7 in private while releasing novella chapters on Patreon instead.

[manicrouge]

John Price and your hobbies

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 823

I can imagine that Price is one of those people who just embrace everything that you love- why? Because he loves you of course! He loves to see you happy and he knows well that embracing your interests is the easiest way to your heart; all you have ever wanted is someone who likes what you do and he makes it his mission to fulfil that desire.

You're trying out a new recipe while baking sweets? Best believe he will be there helping you taste test every single flavour you make, and when you ask for his honesty, he will give you it. But he will say so softly, he won't try and ruin what you've made, not at all!

Think that needs a little more sugar, love.

Or, when you take up the hobby of writing, he will sit there in the living room, reading quietly while you're curled next to him with your head resting on his lap with your laptop open on the draft you printed just for him to read. And he will read it; he knows how much work you've been putting into what you're writing and he has a genuine admiration for anything you put your mind to. He thinks you're one of the smartest people he has ever met!

I don't know if it's good enough.

Seems pretty fuckin' good to me, sweetheart. My pretty talented girl, eh?

And when he's out on missions, he keeps drafts of what you've written on him for whenever he gets a moment of rest. Being unable to have contact with you for a while is brutal, though, he knows you're always with him in the words you have poured your heart into. You live through your art and your art lives through the articulation of you.

Not to mention when you decide to open a small business, nothing big, to sell art prints and stickers of your drawings... oh my goodness, this man cannot get enough of your creativity. To see you making art so freely and producing it for him to keep is a blessing. You make a new sticker? He'd buy you out of stock just to see you smile (also for his equipment back at the base... he's comfortable enough to rock your dainty flower stickers on the hilt of his knifes).

The fuck is that, Cap'n?

My girl made it, you want one for your throwin' knife?

And when you take up gaming with some of your friends, he'll sit on the sofa, sometimes having you sitting on his lap as you sit with a headset on your head, looking at the TV. It's some shooting game they persuaded you to try, and he sits with an amused look on his face, watching you kill the enemy, the occasional scoff or squeal of frustration escaping you when you get shot.

And when it comes to gun customisation on the game?

He has got you covered!!

Wouldn't it just be better if you could put a suppressor on a shotgun though... like, imagine how effective that would be.

You're overly passionate about this, love.

Yeah, well, you are underly passionate about this and this is something you do for work.

You will have the best gun in the game, and you'll sit with him even when your friends aren't online, listening to him giving you orders while playing- in true Captain fashion, of course. And, he even goes as far as buying an extra controller so he can play the game with you (also to beat you; the pair of you have a competitive streak and he isn't beyond using his expertise to frustrate you).

His heart especially melts when you seek interest in his hobbies and what he likes to do during his time off work. Even if you're not fond of his music, while he's away, you will walk around the house while cleaning with Led Zeppelin and Slipknot at full blast.

You been listenin' to my playlist while I've been gone?

Might've; I want more recommendations.

His eyes light up whenever he hears you humming a familiar tune whenever you're cooking or writing- doing anything, and he'll take a moment to just stand there and observe you with a smile on his face.

And you also both have an agreement with one another that, when he's away, you can with the TV shows the pair of you started together, although, you never do. If you ever want to, you'd rather watch the last episode the pair of you watch over and over again before ever thinking of committing such a crime.

It's the small things in your relationship, even living in the absence of one another that make everything so special, and the intimacy of something as little as interest is the one thing that has the pair of you falling head over heels for all each other over and over again <3

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[pablitosgf]

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 ! — jb05

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! — jude bellingham x fem!reader

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 ! — in which you surprise jude with a special vacation.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! — nothing!!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ! — this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS! even before i posted on this blog. so i hope y'all love it. btw i wrote this before he turned to the big 20 thats why it says 19. <3

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ! — writing

As you sat in your office chair, you couldn't help but smile as you thought about your anniversary with Jude. You had met him back in grade 11, and now he was a professional football player while you were studying to become a pediatrician one day. You had always wanted to have children, but of course, not at the moment. You and Jude were only 19 and had graduated high school a year ago. However, you had it all planned out – from engagement to marriage, pregnancy, and kids – for the future.

But for now, you needed to focus on finding the perfect anniversary gift for your beloved boyfriend of four years. You didn't want to give him something too basic, but you knew that he had always wanted to visit the Bahamas. Unfortunately, with his hectic schedule, there had never been a good time to make the trip. As you brainstormed ideas, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the time you had spent with Jude so far and excited for all the adventures that lay ahead for the two of you.

"That's it!" you exclaimed, a grin spreading across your face. "I'll surprise him with plane tickets for a week in the Bahamas. He has the whole next week off, so it's perfect timing." You couldn't wait to see the look on Jude's face when you told him.

With the apartment to yourself for a few hours due to his training, you quickly went to your laptop and booked a flight from Dortmund to the Bahamas. As you clicked "confirm" on the booking page, your heart raced with excitement. You knew that this trip would be a lifetime experience for the both of you, and you couldn't wait to share it with Jude.

After printing out the tickets, you headed to the store to pick up a fancy box and some accessories to go with it. As you were putting the finishing touches on your surprise, you heard the doorbell ring. Your heart racing with excitement, you ran to the door to greet Jude.

"Baby, you're finally here!" you exclaimed, barely containing your excitement. "I know we were supposed to exchange presents after our date, but I just can't wait any longer."

Jude raised his eyebrows, intrigued by your eagerness. "I can't wait to see what you've got for me," he said, leaning in to give you a light kiss.

You took his hand and led him to the box you had prepared, a huge grin on your face. Jude looked at you with a mix of confusion and anticipation as you urged him to open it. "Just open it," you said, barely able to contain your excitement.

Jude eagerly unlatched the box to reveal the tickets inside. At first, he looked confused, but as he examined them more closely, his eyes widened in disbelief. "What is this?" he asked, his voice filled with astonishment.

"You're joking, right?" he exclaimed, unable to believe his luck. But as he looked at you and saw the excitement written all over your face, he knew that this was real.

“You've always talked about how much you wanted to go," you said, smiling at him. "So I thought, why not make it happen?"

Jude's response was immediate - he wrapped his arms around you and began showering you with kisses all over your face, murmuring countless "thank yous" in your ear.

“You're welcome, my love," you said, feeling your heart swell with happiness.

You woke up to an enthusiastic and energetic Jude. "Come on, babe, get up!" Jude exclaimed, pulling your arm. You groaned and tried to resist, but Jude's excitement was contagious.

"Ugh, I'm too tired. Let me sleep," you complained, sinking back into the bed.

"No way! We have to get ready," Jude insisted.

"I just wanna sleep…" you muttered groggily.

"What did you say?" Jude asked, looking confused.

"Nothing," you replied, shaking your head and trying to shake off your sleepiness.

You posted a story on your Instagram and now you were sitting at the gate, waiting for the plane. You let out a sigh of boredom, and Jude noticed. "Hey, do you want to play chopsticks?" he asked.

You looked at him quizzically, "What's chopsticks?"

Jude was taken aback, "What?! How do you not know what chopsticks is?"

You just shrugged, which earned a loud puff from Jude.

"Fine, I'll teach you," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He explained the rules and how to play, but you made snarky remarks here and there, calling it "boring" and "not fun." Jude being Jude, responded with a sassy retort.

As Jude turned his head to you, he exclaimed, "We're actually here!" His lips barely missed yours as he spoke, and you couldn't help but smile at his excitement.

"Of course, my love," you replied, returning the almost-kiss with a soft one of your own. "I'm so happy we're finally here in the Bahamas together." You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his hand as you headed towards the exit, eager to start your week-long adventure in paradise.

[worrywrite]

I don't like sharing my writing. I would call it advertising, but I'm not selling anything; most of my writing is freely available online. But telling other people that I have writing they could read, and then actually asking people to go read my writing... I don't like it. Kind of feels like I'm begging. Doesn't help that I know I don't edit my work particularly well. I consider myself a writer, but I know people (who aren't writers) expect writers to be able to basically print out a finished draft whenever they write, and I know I can't do that (I don't think this really changes whether I am a writer or not, but it doesn't feel great, you know?). Hell, I don't even consider myself a particularly good writer in practice.

Anyway, I'm forcing myself to share my writing because I have two stories in particular that I would appreciate more readers on. I'm not selling my work, I'm not paying to have my work reviewed. I kind of just want to figure out if I really am just writing for myself, because I don't think my writing resonates with anyone else. But also there are other more substantial reasons.

I write, primarily, on RoyalRoad because most of what I write is original fiction. However, I know my preferred genres do very badly on RR because RR is a bastion of litrpg and gamer fiction and I'm not particularly fond of either. However, I do actually really like the build of the website itself (it does suck that it got eaten up by Amazon, but the influence is limited and bearable). Anyway. I'm stalling. See? If no one wants to get through this wall of text they'll never scroll down to where I actually link my writing. I'm also posting late at night for the same reason. They'll never know I suck, because they'll never read this far and actually get to the stories.

Whatever.

First story is called Vanisher. I started it almost four years ago because I had an action movie dream that ended with jumping off of a sky scraper and that being a good thing. While it was originally an action story, it very quickly became about "who are you? is that who you are in your head or who people think you are? what if who you are meant to be is dead, but you could change that?" Which was more of a paranormal-ish intrigue story. And then stopped writing the story for nearly four years (because I'd been a lot less stressed... for reasons, and wasn't writing as much). Then I came back to it (because I got a lot more stressed... for reasons, and started writing more) and I realized that that core of the narrative also lent really well to a sort of romantic self discovery, and then I made the main characters kiss. And that went well. But the thing I'm concerned about is that the first five chapters are missing something. I know they're missing something, but I can't really put my finger on it. And the only way to really figure it out is to have a bunch of people read the whole thing. The only problem is that it's longer than Twilight now and not quite finished (though it will be soon). But it is queer media, and the main relationship is poly, and I quite like writing both.

Second story is called Aether Drop. This one is simultaneously new and also very very old. You know that thing you did (maybe you still do) when you're a passenger in a car and you look out the window and imagine a guy running on the power lines or look at the clouds and imagine there's a massive airship up there or people walking around on top of the clouds? That is this. The airships. The sky people. When I was a kid I imagined those airships a lot. I loved Castle in the Sky and everything even close. And in order to make that image of an airship in the clouds a story, I came up with a world for it. Earth, but re-formed and inhospitable. The kind of earth humanity would never survive on, so they'd have to make big stupid helicarrier type airships to keep humanity safe but still moored to the rock they came from. And of course that would cause some serious complications for the survival of humanity, because you can't just live in the upper troposphere forever, it's not exactly hospitable. So it's about the next evolution of humanity inheriting the wreckage of the earth horizon zero dawn style (though I swear I came up with my version of the re-terraformed earth setting before horizon, they're different in practice but similar in general concept). It's told through the lens of two boys from different airships being stuck on the surface. And I wanted more eyes on it because it's been entered into a contest and I think better metrics on the fiction page might give it a better shot of getting in the top twenty out of the three hundred and forty submissions. Also just getting some actual readers on it would be nice. Like I said earlier, this kind of genre is not popular on RR.

If you're actually reading this part of this post... why? It's mostly just for me to shout at the clouds. But also. Go ahead.

I like writing Vanisher. As a story, it's special to me. It represents a lot of what I've discovered about my own identity. I started writing it when I was question whether I was cis or trans (turned out not quite either), and I thought the story would resonate with people that went through that same self-questioning process. So far it hasn't, though I'll grant anyone that's read it, transness hasn't exactly been a focal point. It's a long road from trying to fit in like a very normal cis straight person to even questioning if that's what you want to be. You have to question other aspects of who you are or think you are first. And this story is really only into those early questioning stages so far. Mostly it kind of lingers on the villains of 1) wanting to be alone so that you don't hurt other people and also wanting to not be alone because that hurts just as bad... and also everyone else kind of feels the same way, and 2) social and economic equity are sort of impossible and success in life, as nebulous as that is, does stem from the sociopolitcal station of the family you grow up in and that sucks. I like envisioning a world where you can buck the forces in life that tell you that you need to conform to survive, because there is a world out there where you actually can but it's actively being attacked by the people trying to convince you that you need to conform. And writing this kind of story, that exists in that exaggerated version of our world, makes the part of my brain that thinks about philosophy and social systems and how beautiful other people are... it makes that part of my brain happy.

And I've tried to write Aether Drop a few times. I've called it Aether, Up in the Aether, Aetherum, stuff like that. Aether Drop just sticks better (at least that's my current opinion). And I've tried to frame it as a lot of different things over its various iterations, mostly about the importance of telling stories to your kids and grandkids and leaving behind a legacy. But I don't think I've ever been set on going very far with the story itself. The longest draft I have, which isn't the one I'm currently writing, has a lot of thinking about it and has gone nowhere over a lot less words. I think I get a little too in my head with establishing story elements, and spend too much time setting things up and then getting distracted and forgetting to pay them off soon enough. But I try, above all else, to have fun with this version of this story. I was laughing to myself earlier because my shortest possible summary of the story (thus far) is "Shadow the hedgehog, Tails, and Treebeard are stuck on a mountain and there's a big cat that wants to kill them." And while it's not literally those characters, it isn't far off. I also had a good long chuckle about the character I'm describing as Treebeard poking said big cat in the nuts with a stick to ward it off, because the text kind of just spilled onto the doc without my thinking about it too hard. You know, every now and then you just let your fingers write and don't pay attention and you read it back and there's a dirty joke or something? It was like that.

[fanfictionsweetheart]

Worlds Collide

Chapter Four

Pairing: Neron “Creeper” Vargas x OC

Summary: Sometimes to stay sober you need to find a way to fill the quiet moments when your demons start to gnaw at your mind once again. That is something Creeper knows far too well. He’s been steadfast but there are some nights when even he still struggles. So he decides to do something new to quiet the voices. He doesn’t know what he expected from this community center class…but finding love definitely wasn’t it.

In this chapter: The end of the class is drawing near and both Creeper and Salacia know that they don’t want this to be the last time they see each other. And one night makes that perfectly clear.

Trigger/Content Warning(s): mentions of addiction and recovery, mentions of disability, mentions of chronic pain, smut, fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk

Word Count: 3883

A/N: cross posted from my ao3. This chapter got away from me a bit because I had so much fun with the smut portion. Hope you enjoy it. This gif is my fave of his, I can’t lie. This is also my first real but of smut on this blog. I hope you enjoy.

Previous Part(s):

Masterlist

Salacia locked her front door behind her as she turned to find Neron waiting for her in her driveway, leaning against the passenger side of his car. After their date he had taken to giving her a ride to and from the Saturday evening class.

They were getting close to the end of the class and she had been the most encouraging person he had ever met. She supported him throughout the entire writing process and he was actually really excited for tonight. It was time for her to read through his penultimate draft for final edits.

David Greene had been acting even more put out as the weeks had gone on and Neron was still in the class with Salacia supporting him the entire time. He loved to see her cut the pretentious asshole down subtly in the classroom. Walking in together every class night was definitely a delightful ‘fuck you’ to the man that irritated both of them so often.

Salacia sat down first, leaning her cane against the table and Neron followed. He smiled at her, he had the print out of this next to final draft in his hands and set it on the table. The class began and David began to explain the process of how to go about submitting your final draft.

Salacia made a mental note to watch Neron send it off. And she would go to the head of this program to be sure that it got added to the book. She would not let David fuck this up. She knew that he wouldn’t come back to teach another class after his mistreatment of Neron. She had kept a record of everything.

And it wasn’t just because they were an item of sorts now. She was just tired of him fucking this community over by being a bad instructor. She even had to help more than just Neron in this class. Emailing back and forth and answering questions that David had ignored.

When David walked back to his desk to scroll social media or whatever it was he did when he ignored his class, she pulled the pages over to her with her red pen in hand.

“Edits first like usual, right?” She asked with a friendly laugh.

He nodded and let her get to work. She didn’t have to edit much. He had taken each small but if advice or critique in stride and applied it to his work. She still made a couple grammar or spelling notes. But there were barely any marks she had to make.

Some of them were probably typos. Which is why she insisted he print it out for this final read through. She felt a few tears roll down her cheeks at the sadder parts and Neron reached over to gently wipe them from her cheeks making her blush a bit.

He was really good at expressing the emotions in his writing. She smiled at him and set her pen down.

“It’s...so good.” She said.

The story of a man struggling with his sobriety. And the voices in his mind fighting with each other. The aching in his body to give in and go back on so many years. Have a drink. Find a plug. And just feel nothing again. And he fought against that voice. He did everything to make it quiet. The appearance of a voice he called his angel, either in his mind or in his life, helped silence the dark voice and inspire the other voices who supported him.

He was happy and still sober in the end.

She smiled at him, “You really are good at describing every emotion. I’m really...I love this story. It’s honestly my favorite short story I’ve read for these classes.” She said.

“I did settle on a cover for it.” He said, there was an option to have a special cover for your story in the book, “I drew something.”

He pulled out the notebook and showed her the inside back cover where he had drawn what he wanted to be the cover art for his story. She felt her cheeks heat up when she saw it. The art was of two people. A man and a woman. Her hands were on his cheek, staring into his eyes. She was subtly shown as an angel. While the man seemed to have signs of being a devil that were disappearing as she held him.

“Is this why you didn’t take an art class, you would blow everyone out of the water.” She teased to cover up the fact that both characters he had drawn had a few obvious resemblances to the two of them.

He chuckled and set his hand over hers. “Hey, I’m glad I took this class...I’m pretty sure I met my angel.” He murmured softly.

“If there weren’t so many around I would be a sobbing mess.” She laughed and leaned in to kiss his cheek softly.

He laughed, “I’d honestly like to leave you a sobbing mess for another reason.” He murmured, making her blush darkly.

She playfully slapped his chest making him chuckle again. He liked the way he could get her to blush. They hadn’t had the chance to be properly alone. His club duties kept him occupied most nights. And he wanted to have an entire night to take his time with her.

—

Class ended and they left together like always. Agreeing to meet at the library before the next Saturday which was the deadline to email the final draft. So she could give it a finally full read through and be certain that it was sent properly.

He had his hand on her lower back as they made their way to his car. He kissed her temple and opened the car door for her like usual. He liked helping her out in small ways like this. He’d dropped by her place a few times to help with something that needed taking care of. She made him dinner and baked for him a few times as a thank you for his help.

He knew the drive to her house just as well as the route to his own place now. He took the long way every time he had to drop her off. Wanting to have her in the passenger seat, happily singing along to her playlist, for as long as he could have her there.

Neron was still worried that after this class fully ended that he would lose her. But he could see from that look on her face that she didn’t want to stop meeting up with him.

“I’ve got some leftover pasta at home if you want to hang out a little longer tonight,” she offered, hoping she sounded casual.

“I’d like that, Querida.” He said loving the way she blushed at the sweet pet name.

—

They ate together in her dining room. Laughing and flirting. She liked these casual, private moments the most. He told her about his friends, fellow MC members, and the crazy shit they did when hanging out. Her laugh was like music to him.

He knew there was a lot about his life as a Mayan he couldn’t tell her about. And he was certain she did as well. But she didn’t ask. He was certain she didn’t want to know. And he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know.

He wanted her to stay his too sweet little escape.

They were now sitting together on her couch watching some cooking competition show she had been wanting to check out. He didn’t mind, he just wanted to spend time with her. He had an arm around her as they sat practically cuddled together.

Unfortunately when she went to adjust her hip twinged in pain, the muscles more messed up than the joint most of the time. She hissed and reached down to rub it.

“You okay, Ma?” Neron asked, worried.

“My hip, the muscles knot so damn easy.” She muttered, “I need to go rub some pain cream on it.”

“Can I help?” He asked, sincerely.

She blushed and tried to tell him that it was okay and that she could handle it. But he smiled and insisted he wanted to help. She conceded and stood up on wobbly legs from the twinging pain in her hip. He got up and let her use him for support while walking with her to her bedroom after she told him which room it was.

After being sure she was okay when she sat on her bed he grabbed the cream she told him to from her bathroom. When he walked back in he felt his own face heat up because she had taken her skirt off so he could more easily get the cream onto her skin. Her face was bright pink as she explained it.

He chuckled, “Not the way I expected to get under that skirt, Querida.” He said, regaining his composure and making her both laugh and blush darker.

He walked over and sat on the bed with her. She did her best to adjust her body so he could massage the knot and pain out of her hip. He was gentle as he did so. Wanting to soothe her. Help her. He enjoyed it, he found, taking care of her like this.

She was blushing but smiling softly, looking at Neron, as he looked at her, watched her face as she relaxed from his slightly calloused yet still tender hands. She moaned softly, when he did manage to ease the pain even better than expected. Better than a heating pad and her own hand rubbing the cream in.

He chuckled, “Feel better, Mami?” He asked when he finished.

“Yeah...gracias, Neron. Really. You didn’t have to.” She smiled and sat up pulling her skirt back on when he went to wash his hands.

He walked out and smiled softly at her. It was the most tender look she had ever seen on his face. He held a hand out and helped her stand up.

“Let’s finish your show, baby.” He offered.

She smiled and pecked his cheek and let him guide her back to her living room. He had every chance to try and take advantage of her undressed state just a few minutes ago, but he didn’t. He’d flirted with her, of course. Which was welcome.

They sat back on her couch and he wrapped an arm around her as she did her best to settle down after he massaged her hip for her.

“Does putting it up help?” He asked.

“Sometimes...but not straight out.” She sighed, “It’s hard to find the right position half the time.”

“Maybe...this…” he suggested and grasped her leg gently and moved it to where her knee hung over his leg, “Is this okay?”

She nodded, it was the most comfortable that she had been in ages. It stretched her hip muscles just right without adding any extra tension to the joint. He smiled and wrapped one arm around her and set his other hand on her thigh as she started the show again.

Her cheeks were on fire, but she was so comfortable with him. She settled into the position to rest. She smiled, she didn’t want this pleasant evening to end.

“I don’t want the next class to be the last time we see each other.” She admitted shyly after her show ended.

He looked at her, surprised at how plainly she said that. She was always honest, but asking for things and saying what she wanted tended to be places where her shyness truly took hold.

It was obvious that she had the same fears he did. That after this class was over they would have to part ways. That the class was all they would have.

She wanted him in her life.

He wanted her in his.

“Then we won’t let it be.” He said, a slight cocky smile spreading over his face.

She blushed darkly but smiled, “As just friends or…” she murmured, she wanted to know where things were going with them.

“I think we’re well past the friendship threshold.” He chuckled and ran his fingers along her thigh, teasing her slightly, goosebumps blossoming on her skin, “You’re my girl if you wanna be.”

Her mouth felt dry. He truly did see her like just any other woman. She wasn’t a disabled woman. She was just a woman. And more than that a woman he wanted.

“I’d like that, Neron.” She murmured, “I’m surprised you want me…” she admitted, “Most guys just see the cane and think I’m...I don’t know...undatable...unfuckable...not even worth a real chance…” she sighed, shaking her head.

His grip on her thigh changed to grasp it properly. He rubbed it gently and leaned over using his other hand to pull her into a kiss. He would show her exactly how fuckable she was to him. She kissed back and reached up to cup his cheek moaning at the obvious desire in his kiss and the way his deliciously calloused hand was rubbing her inner thigh.

She wasn’t as experienced as him, but she had had sex before. Not in a few years though. And before it was only an adolescent mistake. So she was slightly nervous. She knew her body though. She had a couple of toys that she used regularly. And much more since she had met Neron, moaning his name into her empty bedroom.

But she was still nervous about him actually touching her.

And he seemed to sense it, “Have you done anything like this before, babygirl?” He asked.

He wanted to know, to be certain of how to proceed. There were so many things that he wanted to do to her, but he needed to know exactly what she had done before so he knew where to start with her.

“A couple times before the accident...but...I mean...I know myself…” she blushed, she didn’t know why admitting that she masturbated to this man made her feel so shy, but it did.

He nodded and kissed her again, gently. He would take it slower than usual. He didn’t plan to fuck her on her couch as it was. Since this was him wanting a relationship with her, he planned to have an actual date before taking her to bed and feeling her.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun tonight.

He moved his mouth along her jaw to nibble her earlobe. Teasing her, loving how she gasped softly. She was so cute, so innocent. Perfectly corruptible.

“You’re used to your own touch...do you wanna know mine?” He growled in her ear.

“Please…” she gasped.

His hand continued to rub along her inner thigh as he kissed along her neck. He was murmuring sweet and erotic things into her skin, his breath fanning over her heated skin. He moved to rub her through her thin panties. Her arousal obvious through them.

He teased her and nipped her soft spot while murmuring her name.

“Mmm, you like it when I touch you?” He purred, the desire to consensually corrupt her obvious in his tone

“Yes…” she whimpered.

“I can tell...you’ve ruined these panties already. You want me, babygirl?” He growled and nipped her shoulder after pulling the strap of her tank top down with his teeth.

She nodded her breathing heavier, “Yes...Neron...I want you…” she gasped.

He slid his hand into her panties and slowly began to trail his fingers along her wet slit. He sought out her clit and began to swirl his fingers over it.

“So wet, all for me?” He asked.

She whined and nodded, her brain already going fuzzy from his touch. He hadn’t stopped kissing and nipping from her shoulder up to her ear along her neck. His fingers toying with her clit until her thighs were shaking.

“Please...Neron…” she begged she wanted more.

“Please what? Use your words, babygirl.” He chuckled against her neck.

“More...please.” She begged.

“You want me to finger you?” He asked, “Is that what you want?”

He couldn’t help but tease her. He was pushing a little. Wanting to see just what kind of girl she was when she played with herself.

“Yes.” She whined.

“Tell me. Say it.” He instructed her gently.

Salacia let out an even louder whine, her cheeks heating up. She felt so shy at even the thought of actually talking that way. She trusted Neron, even though she hadn’t been with anyone in so long.

“Please, f-finger me…” she gasped.

“Good girl.” He praised her for asking, and he slid his middle finger into her.

It was long and reached so deep. She whined, her fingers didn’t feel that good. The slight calluses he had didn’t hurt, they heightened the sensation of his movements. She moaned his name, biting her lip.

“God your pussy is so wet, it doesn’t wanna let my finger go, baby.” He purred, his voice holding a tone of lustful gravel.

He began to slowly move his finger, curling it, slipping it almost all the way out before pressing it back inside. Figuring out exactly what her body liked. His cock was painfully hard in his pants but right now was all about her. He wanted her to feel amazing.

He slipped a second finger inside, his index, and kept up his movements. Teasing and toying with her overly sensitive pussy. The sounds she was making were soft but full of desire.

“Don’t hold back on those noises, babygirl.” He chuckled, “Let me hear you.”

The blazing blush on her cheeks intensified, but she did her best to do as he had asked. Whimpering and moaning and panting as he fingered her.

“That’s it...good girl...damn, you’re so fucking wet…” the things he was saying filled her mind fogging it with more lust.

She whimpered his name and slightly bucked against his hand. She was doing her best to be careful of her hip like every time she had played alone. But staying still was harder when a sexy biker was fingering you perfectly.

“Fuck...I’m gonna cum…” she whined.

“Cum for me, babygirl...cum all over my fucking fingers…” He growled and nipped her shoulder harder, desperately wanting to mark her up.

He kept his fingers moving just as they had been. Curling them just how she seemed to love. Her moans and whimpers got more high pitched as they raised in volume. He didn’t know if she had ever had an orgasm caused by another person before. That just encouraged him to make sure it was the best she had ever felt.

“Ah, ah, ah, Neron!” Salacia cried out, hips shaking, head thrown back, cumming hard on his hand.

Neron worked her through it gently. Watching her as she panted, chest heaving, skin flushed, mouth hung open, those pretty silver eyes closed, pleasures tears barely visible in the corners of them. She was the picture of pure lust for him. And she was still fully clothed.

She expected him to pull his fingers out and this erotic moment would end, but he had other plans. His thumb began to rub over her clit as he began to curl his fingers again.

She squealed out his name in shock but he just chuckled.

“Think you can give me another, baby?” He asked, “You look so good when you cum.”

She whined but nodded.

“Use your words, Querida.” He reminded her.

“Yes.” She gasped, “I can give you another.”

She was already so perfectly submissive. So sweet and pliable. He knew he had to take it slow still. He could see exactly what they could be in this moment with his hand in her panties and fingers buried inside of her. But that would be too much to spring on her all at once.

He would take his time. Lead where he needed to. But let her set the pace.

He wanted this relationship. He wanted her.

And she wanted him as well.

He curled his fingers and thrust them inside of her, his thumb being relentless against her clit. She had lost all shame in her moans. It was a delicious sight.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” He purred, feeling her clench around his fingers at the praise, “Are you gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“Yes!” She moaned louder than she expected, “Neron...please…”

He kissed her harshly as she screamed out her orgasm against his mouth. Her body shuddering intensely. She gripped the back of his neck and bicep as she shivered. Kissing back as best she could.

After working her through it, Neron slid his fingers out of her, but didn’t take his hand off of her. Instead moving his fingers back to her clit and gently swirling his fingers over it, still lightly teasing her. Testing if she could handle any more.

He swallowed her gasping moans before pulling back to give her a lustful and cocky grin. His brown eyes were dark and took in her every feature. Her face was flushed, tears in the corners of her silver eyes which were glazed in pleasure. Her lipstick was completely smeared and her mouth hung open as she gasped his name.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this…” he growled.

She whimpered, clutching onto him like her life depended on it. Her body craved everything that he was so willingly giving her. She didn’t know how much more she could take though. She whined loudly and looked at him, needy tears slipping down her flushed cheeks.

“Neron…” She gasped.

“Just one more baby...can you give me one more?” He asked, his lustful tone going right through her.

“I don’t know…” she was breathless and her body was shaking, “I want to…”

“You can do it.” He encouraged softly, kissing the corner of her mouth, “Just relax...cum one more time for me, babygirl.”

Her moans were breathy and whiny and music to Neron’s ears. He swirled his fingers around her clit before slipping them back inside of her. Even though she had cum twice already her pussy welcomed his fingers back in easily. He could only imagine how amazing she would feel around his cock, but tonight was about her.

He wanted to make her feel amazing. Like the angel he saw her as.

It didn’t take long for her to get her to the edge again. And even less time for him to make her fall over it. She cried his name, head thrown back in bliss. Tears rolling down her cheeks. As she did something she didn’t think her body was capable of when a burst of liquid soaked Neron’s hand and her panties.

“Oh fuck.” He cursed as she lay back against the couch breathless and stunned.

“God damn, baby, you’re so fucking sexy…” he breathed.

He slid his fingers out of her and raised them to his mouth and lewdly sucked them clean. Salacia blushed darkly as she saw him do so.

“You taste delicious, sweetheart.” He chuckled at how shy she still seemed.

He couldn't help but to lean over and kiss her once more. She was his now. There was no question about it.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #404

Brain Curds are barely-edited fiction, poetry, or just about anything else - drafted in a day or less. Resource not found. Refresh and try again?

Set in a far-off post-scarcity utopia, Solarpunk 3072 follows Eustace - who, like everyone else, has everything. Everything except something to do, that is.

Eustace grumbled as he exited the cafe and sat on a nearby bench. He pulled out his SmartCom and unfolded it to his desired size, a full eight times. What was there to watch today? As it turned out, Orange & Lemon was holding a live presentation in just a few minutes.

Orange & Lemon, to translate to early twenty-first century culture, was something like a mixture of 2010s Apple and what Sony was like before the iPod made everything but the PlayStation obsolete. They were a group of ambitious and excited tech-heads and designers motivated entirely by making products they found exciting. As we established earlier, there was no profit incentive to speak of. They just liked gadgets.

The Orange & Lemon logo faded from the screen to reveal the founders on a white backdrop.

The tall and bulky one spoke first. “Hey trace-heads! I’m Mannfred Mandarin!”

“And I’m Arthur Lemon!” said the second, who was scrawnier and wore glasses. “Sorry for the short notice, folks, but we just found out something that’s blowing our minds! You’ve gotta see it!”

Mann held up a laptop. “I’m sure some of you out there remember these, right?”

“I know I do, Manny! I miss that click-clack of the keys sometimes, but it’s just so inconvenient to lug it around!”

“That’s right, Artie. Good luck fitting one of these in your pocket. That’s why our data shows more and more people are choosing SmartComs as their primary computing device.”

“Here at O&L, we’re very proud of our work on SmartCom design. No other device category has been able to offer so many different display configurations. It works great for everything from reading a book to painting the next digital masterpiece!”

“But one thing it’s not so good at is typing.”

“Click-clack, Manny.”

“Click-clack indeed. That’s why we’re so happy that our team has come up with a new design that builds a mechanical keyboard right into the screen! Right into the screen! Isn’t that fucking cool?!?”

“It’s so fucking cool!” Artie practically jumped through the roof.

“Here, take a look at this prototype!” Mann presented it to the camera with both hands. “The screen now not only folds, but changes its shape in real time and with - I’d say very convincing - force feedback. It’s remarkable!”

“The keys really move! How do you think they managed that?!? I don’t even know!”

“There’s only one problem.”

“That’s right, Manny. Unfortunately, to squeeze this new tech into such a small package, the engineering team had to take out the solar panels. As enthusiasts, we’re disappointed to say it, but this tech isn’t ready for the world at large.”

“But as optimists, we’re sure we can make it work! Eventually!”

“That’s why we’re not releasing a new production-ready SmartCom design this year.” Artie crossed his arms. “We don’t want to waste your time with a device that can’t even charge outside! What is this, 3063?”

“But as always, the beta branch is open to the public.” Mann held out a thumbs-up. “If you want to play around with it, simply ask your local library to print one out for you.”

“That’s all for today, folks! We hope you’re having the time of your lives!”

“Signing off!”

The stream ended and Eustace rolled his eyes. Who would get so excited about typing? What even was there to type? He sighed and tossed his SmartCom to the ground.

Before even a moment had passed, the local PairE unit picked it up, dusted it off, examined it for damages, re-folded it, and gently set it on the bench next to him.

“Ugh…” Eustace complained. “Isn’t there anything to do around here?”

A passerby chimed in. “You could go to a virtual amusement park.”

“I did that yesterday!” Eustace straightened out his body as he complained, which was difficult to do while sitting up on a bench, and it had the unintended effect of tripping up the passerby and causing him to fall on his face.

Eustace was shocked. Did he kill that guy? No… no, he was still breathing. He was fine. Just knocked out. But suddenly, Eustace felt a spark. He felt like… no, he knew that he’d finally found his calling! What he was always meant to do! And it was so simple:

Eustace was a natural-born asshole.

Penned 2025.05.01

Please reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed, and leave a reply even if you didn’t! See you again soon!

[mrs-theirin]

quilllllll! hi, hello, i simply had to let you know that i've been slowly but surely re-re-rereading the road, the hidden truth, and you, and first of all, gorgeous, beautiful, touching, magnificent, imagine a rainstorm of chefs kisses raining down uponst you <3 but i got curious and had to ask...are there any cut scenes/fun facts/behind the scenes special features you might want to share with the class? 🥺 hehehe i just know /i/ always end up having a bunch of stuff like that once a project's done, and i'd LOVE to hear any juicy tidbits you've got!!! :P (either way, had to remind you how gorgeous this - AND ALL YOUR OTHER WRITING - is!)

we are somehow on the same wavelength as i was rereading it myself when i got this ask.....i'm onto you queenie......

all jokes aside THANK YOU i am always blown away when you compliment my writing, truthfully, it means the absolute world to me and i'm glad you enjoy what i put out. from the bottom of my heart, your support is greatly, greatly appreciated

that being said. well. as far as fun facts go. one fun fact is that this was barely my idea. that's well known at this point i think but you can thank @merrybandofmurderers for originally giving me the idea of a fake dating, roadtrip au. second fun fact is that i winged the HELL out of this fic. 19 years old staying up (apparently, since i checked the outline???) till 5 in the morning trying to get it done. winged the hell out of it. i had a broad idea, but i built the chapters based off of da2 quest names. so like. i had almost nothing planned. i took a da2 quest title i liked and built a modern au plot around it. great idea i think. poor execution LMFAO

no cut scenes or anything due to the rushed and unorganized nature of the original draft. there are things that i cut from the original in my rewrite, but that's because i felt like they weren't serving a real purpose. i also was super excited to change it so it was modern au but with elves and kirkwall and all that stuff. does it make sense orzammar is in new york? no. do i care? also no

i have been intending to write a follow up ever since the ORIGINAL story, but it just hasn't felt right yet. i know i want to do it. and i really hope i will do it. but for now it will stay in my drafts, lovingly titled "trthtay superbowl follow up". between that and the eden/varric wedding at skyhold fic, we could place a bet on which one gets finished first! (psst, it's probably the wedding fic. i've written more for that. unrelated but maybe expect that? soon? ish? don't hold me to that)

anyway, i'd say the biggest thing is that trthtay was my "i can do better" fic, truthfully. i was STUNNED when it got on a screenrant article (before it was even finished too?), i mean, i still have my section printed out in my dresser. it was exciting. but to see so many eyes on something i didn't think was of the quality i'd like it to be was stressful. i wanted to be great. i wanted the thing that so many people saw from me to be groundbreaking. and i really didn't feel like it hit that mark. i don't even think the rewrite hits that mark! there are things that i've written that i feel are better than both. but, there's a bright side to everything, and that's that even what i would consider one of my worse fics was loved. it was loved. it was enjoyed. not only by the author of that article (david caballero, there's nowhere i can message you on that site, but if you ever see this, thank you so so much) but by everyone who decided to click the link and give it a try. by YOU, one of my biggest inspirations and someone whose writing i aspire to match someday. i cannot thank you enough (you, personally, queenie, and you, plural, anyone who's read my writing) for giving me a chance and pushing me to be better

so. anyway. i'm sure you didn't expect your question to get an emotional response, but i think any conversation about trthtay comes back to that. to hope. to gratitude. it truthfully blows my mind that you love it the way you do. thank you thank you thank you. i'm glad i have you in my corner :)

[buzzdixonwriter]

How To Edit The Buzz Dixon Way

This is descriptive, not prescriptive.  This is how I do it, I’m not telling you to do it this way.  Take from it anything you find useful.

There are two types of editing:  Copyediting and Story Editing.

Let’s start with the former.

Copyediting is focused on fixing spelling / grammatical / typographical errors; it is not significantly altering the underlying material.

MSWord and programs like Grammarly tag potential errors but often miss a lot of them, too.  For longer manuscripts I print out the document in full then start at the very end and work my way forward, looking for errors.

Physically going through a document backwards makes errors pop out more readily to the human eye. 

One I finish my preliminary copyedit, I then begin story editing.  I do this in red pen on the same printout I just copyedited, then when entering the changes in the file, again start at the end and work forward.

This keeps the page count from being screwed up; start at the front and even a small change can alter the page count after it, making it harder to locate passages you’re looking for.

There’s a bit of advice that says never start editing until you finish the first draft.

This is one of those aphorisms that’s meant with good intent but soon falls short in practicality.

When this advice is short for “Don’t endlessly rewrite your opening but get the story down so you can work on it in toto,” that’s valid. 

But many is the time I’m 2/3 of the way through a story when I realize the scene I’m working on would be better if Suzy owned a hamster so I go back and find a couple of places where I can lay track by referencing Suzy owns a hamster even if I don’t make it a major story point.

Conversely, I might recognize I have two characters who could easily be melded into one.  In that case I simply start writing the combined character from that point forward and make a note to go back and meld them in their earlier scenes.

It’s a matter of degree and complexity balanced against work discipline.  In 50-plus years of writing, I developed the discipline to go back and make adjustments on an unfished manuscript then resume telling the story where I left off.  If you’re easily sidetracked, you may want to wait until you’re finished to start editing.

I tend to write shaggy and loose, others write very sparse first drafts.  They need to go back and add and embellish, I need to whack away deadwood.

It’s been said one needs to write a story three times:  First to tell it to yourself, then to figure out what you’re trying to say, and finally to figure out how to say it to readers.

I over explain and put in way too much detail in my first drafts.  For my personal understanding of the story, I need to completely understand its world.

Sidebar:  Many think “world building” only applies to sci-fi and fantasy stories (and truth be told, it’s lots of fun coming up with exotic imaginary environments) but contemporary stories need it just as much if not more.

From research I’ve done for stories I’ve written, I have detailed knowledge of how live TV studios operated, what the social order of Wild West mining towns was like, and why the movie industry came to Southern California (only partially for good sunny weather, mostly to get as far away from Thomas Edison as possible).

All of this grounds me in the environment of my story, making it real to me – but not necessarily vital for my readers to now.

Case in point, this passage from a story set in a 1950s TV station:

Before the early evening news, Kline showed her the technical aspects of the job.

“We’ve got two big maps of Winnemac and the Midwest you’ll stand in front of,” he said.  “Both are painted on a thin sheet of steel.  We use magnetized symbols to show where the weather is coming from.  Miss Perkins will set up the maps with pressure fronts and storm warnings and whatnot before you go on the air.  You just point to them as you read your cue card and leave the rest to us.”

“Tell her about the Technamation,” Miss Perkins said.

“The what?” Mary asked.

“It’s a filter system we put on the studio lights,” said Kline.  “The magnetized symbols use polarized designs.  When we turn the filters on the lights, it makes them pulsate or look like rain is falling and stuff like that.”

“It’s a cheap way of adding effects to an otherwise static map,” Perkins said.

“I thought people just drew on weather maps,” Mary said.

Kline snorted derisively and Miss Perkins smiled.  “Connor tried that back in the late forties when we first started using weather maps.  He’d draw on them with a heavy black grease pencil.”

“The problem is that Connor is no artist,” said Kline.  “He’d try to draw the weather fronts the way they appeared on the maps we got from the weather bureau, but they always ended up looking like…well, you were married, you can guess what they looked like.”

Mary looked puzzled then she realized what Kline meant and blushed deeply.

Miss Perkins laughed.  “That’s why I do the maps now,” said Miss Perkins.  “Snow didn’t want that segment to be known as the wiener report.”

This technology was ubiquitous on black and white TV in the 1950s and early 1960s, abandoned only when color broadcasting proved incompatible with this system.  It’s an authentic detail for TV shows of the era, particularly weather reports.

But it doesn’t advance the story!

As a result, it’s gone.

Later, when the station switches to color and the accompanying chroma key matte system, I do mention that because that detail does figure into the plot.

My first draft prose tends tp be a tad too formal and academic.  I look for every place where I can change bland passive verbs into vivid active ones (viz. “I was on the deck” to “I stood on the deck”; even though “stood” isn’t dynamic it conjures up an image), I trim lengthy clauses (viz. “I started tp edit the text” to “I edited the text.”)

“I also trim my dialog.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll take two or more lines and condense and meld them together.”

“Is that all?”

“No, I’ll also eliminate some back and forth between characters.”

becomes

“I trim dialog, condensing and melding lines together and eliminating some back and forth.”

Seriously, there is no such thing as realistic dialog.  Read some court or interrogation transcripts and see how awkward and cumbersome real speech is.  What passes for naturalistic dialog in fiction is stylized in a very special manner.  Take a look at the plays of Harold Pinter; nobody does a better job than him when it comes to creating what sounds like natural dialog but really conveys an enormous amount of multi-level information.

My first drafts typically come in at around 120K, which I ideally hope to trim down to 80K but more typically land around 90K, which is a reduction of about 25% to 33%.

This ain’t easy.  It frequently requires not merely trimming dialog or removing short scenes, but whacking out entire subplots.

Some of these subplots aren’t fully developed.  For my story set in a 1950s TV studio, I laid track for a subplot involving a list of fan club members that I originally intended to be part of my story’s conclusion.

But as I got closer to the end, I found the fan club subplot extraneous, enabling me to not only cut references to it earlier in the story but related subplots about characters involved in the club.

Entire families and their associated subplots went out the window with it, but all scattered throughout the novel, not in one big easy to remove lump.

Part of my challenge in story editing is that I do not write linear stories ala most adventure or mystery stories but rather a web of interconnected plots where seeming unrelated characters put things in motion.

In a purely linear story I can simply drop enter chapters, linking things together with a simple “After fighting their way through the Swamp of Spiders, Thundarr and his companions…”

Interlocking subplots, however, require rerouting certain plot threads through other characters and events to make sure the story winds up where I intend it.

Using geographic terms, I know which city I want my stories to end in, which neighborhood, and frequently which block.

But the exact address, floor number, room, and chair where the climax finally plops down usually isn’t determined until I’m almost at my destination.

As I said, this is all carved in Jello, not stone.  Use whatever you can.

  © Buzz Dixon

[r0b0tb0y]

BIG writeup of process notes, just the first two pages for now:

I can't remember what sparked the original idea: I've done werewolf!Brasso in a fic before, and this is almost a prequel to that fic. I knew the story would work better as a visual narrative than prose, but I really wasn't sure if I could manage the scope or skill required.

Initially it was scripted as a webtoon: I was keen to make use of generous negative space, dynamic panels, colour pops, and the narrow continuous scroll that all work really well with horror pacing. I scripted with numbered panels and no page breaks:

When it came to setting up a canvas on Procreate (I'll start doodling and see how far I get), I decided to begin with the standard screen size and lengthen/shorten the canvas where the natural beats fell. I soon realised there was a natural rhythm to the page-turns (an important skill for print-comic writers, but I always used to struggle with it) so I divided up the script into ten pages. That was really handy if I want to print it, especially when I confirmed I could do it in monochrome.

PAGE ONE

I wasn't sure I could do the whole comic in black and white without even halftones, but I wanted to try and it ended up being great on pages with big backdrops because I was only obliged to scribble a bit of mess and that's as much junkyard as you're gonna get

Made blxcksqvadron find me a crisp cap of Zorbys sign, inked it as one of the final additions to the draft, then decided to replace the sign with the Alibi title

our dropbox has troves of reference images for Ferrix design, which I glanced at before doodling a few lumps and going 'yeah that looks like a ship/house/prop'. The cyclone fencing and keyhole were the least scifi looking features in the end, but both useful visual cues and look, the Andor art team extremely shopped at Ikea

drawing clouds is so fucking difficult. 'they're just blobs' I thought! go fuck yourself

hounds are a delight to draw, and were one of the first things I got stuck into. I thought they'd be difficult, but I based a lot of the poses off my greyhound and the expressions off a friend's pug and they are impeccable pubbies

looking back at early pages, really pleased how intuitive Cassian was to draw and pose

when I first posted this I forgot to put white behind the WOOF panel, so the parallel of WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF/SHITSHITSHITSHIT disappeared (shitshitshitshit indeed)

thank you Diego Luna housebrick hands for being really easy to draw

the greeble kept looking like it had a cute face, which was fun but became too diverting as a mini-character

I was originally going to have more text, like the popups from the show (eg the Wanted: Kenari Male graphic). This page would explain the greeble was an expensive Imperial gizmo, and later on identify the corpse as a murdered corpo. The labels on the map of Ferrix and the $AFE note on page two were the only captions I kept. Exposition slows the pace down and takes up space, and I always prefer the art to do the bulk of the storytelling work.

The comic is full of rhetorical panels (non-square panels, especially ones where a diegetic detail escapes into the gutter) partly because it adds tons of dynamism to the monochrome, partly because it's a perfect visual metaphor for Cassian sneaking through boundaries, but also because I regularly pencilled too big despite sketching my borders in first.

PAGE TWO

I sketched page one, sketched page two, inked page two. This helped me figure out what would be technically possible/necessary before pencilling the whole thing (if I could finish this page in monochrome, it should be feasible for the whole story). It also meant I could share something comprehensible with the groupchat to keep me motivated. So this was my first finished page, where a lot of the stuff got figured out.

I love the layout on this page, and the squad did too. The manga-style polygon panels happen to look very Star Wars, and lead nicely into the composition underneath with three columns where the hounds recede, Cassian takes a breather, and the big reveal looms.

The borders are made using Procreate's Drawing Guide/Assisted Drawing with 48px grid (my default for lettered graphics). The brush can have a very uneven taper or come out blobby if I use the quickshape tool, so I get better control of border thickness with Assisted. Sometimes I'll do an entire grid then erase the gutters, or draw a set of rectangles that don't perfectly align, depending on how tight I want the layout to be. For the angled panels, I use quickshape on the brush/eraser, which takes some fiddling.

I'm really pleased with how the hites and briffits (💨) came out. Motion lines often end up looking stiff, and dust clouds like chunks of broccoli, but my main brush (True Grit Acrylic Liner from the Rusty Nib collection, without which I wouldn't have even attempted the project) handles them really well.

Generally the onomatopoeia are lettered with the messier acrylic brush, while dialogue and captions are a smoother style (Procreate's Studio Pen with extra motion control, which is my default).

The first running Cassian was freehanded, and I was very nervous about doing full-body action poses! I didn't mind this one looking a bit wacky for the sake of physical comedy, so I didn't go back to fix it.

The next four of him running and jumping use references from parkour photography, which gave me some really amazing angles and shapes to exaggerate. I added the details of boots and cuffs, which were really helpful to keep his shape consistent and to make the references look less derivative. Drawing moving clothing is new for me: I find lapels very tricky but boots are easy (rip liefeld).

I wanted a shot of him swinging around a corner, and the closest references I could find were all from pole dancing, but none of them looked as good as the vault on the left. Just know that Cassian almost used his pole skills, which I know he possesses.

Making the junk pile background where Cassian lands was a challenge: the stuff can't be so detailed it detracts from Cassian in the foreground, but a line in the wrong place ruins the inference of a tall stack of objects. This is where I discovered putting a turbine in an empty space helps: I went back and added one in the trapezium above (also whoops, needed a sense of Cassian's interaction with the space around him).

Had a ball with emanata and onamatopoeia on this page—I firmly believe you can barely overuse both devices. The CRUNCH and Cassian's exhalation were great.

The borderless panel was a really important centrepiece. I didn't want six repetitive blocks in the bottom half, and the bleed signals a moment where the chase slows down inexplicably.

This gives us a bit more space for the first proper close-up of Cassian, which ended up pretty close to my original freehand. Given Diego Luna has such a distinctive face*, I was surprised by the times where I found him easy/difficult to draw. Some panels are traced from screenshot references, but even then I'm obviously exaggerating major features.

The coat was originally flat black or white depending on the contrast in the scene, but as the pages progressed I needed more texture. The grid pattern gives a nice sense of a woven fabric, but I also chuckle at the idea of it being Burberry tartan. Here I went back and added a bit of hatching, but still minimal so it doens't get distracting.

I drew his shirt as seldom as possible. Couldn't be bothered with the crossover V-neck, didn't want to add another texture to shade, and didn't mind the idea that he was barely wearing a shirt.

The vertical pattern as a portent of doom is a technique I love in manga, and it neatly resembles the slope Cassian's just descended here too. I made this with a similar technique to the borders, where I use Assisted Drawing to make a sequence of tapered lines. This looks a bit more organic than a premade texture, and I can control the gradient. Aftewards I erase around the foreground details.

Scaredy hounds were really fun: lots of homages to my beloved late greyhound Grim and his anxieties. A little 'yipe' there because there's a lot of Looney Tunes subtext to this comic. If you look closely in the middle you can see the snout of a cowering hound, my goofy fave. The plewd looks a bit weird, but spiky hackles work well. I can also spot where I started using a grainy brush for the junk, which had mixed results throughout.

We always need reminders the moon! I'm pleased at how the hound paws came out: I worried that drawing their backs and running legs would be confusing, but it seems to work. Backlit house shapes didn't give me too much trouble compared to later: lots of practice with isometric pixel art.

A fun detail: the onomatopoiea of SKITTER SCATTER, and then SKEDADDLE... which could be an onomatopoiea, right?

blxcksqvadron is traditionally not a fan of stories where dogs dislike werewolves (they are family!) but compromised on the hounds being intimidated by a resource-hoarding big dog whom we know is being protective, not possessive.

A little broccoli puff of relief from Cassian, and the cheeky '$AFE' caption of the greeble in his pocket. The shadow coming into focus was something I envisioned as an iconic werewolf trope, but a scribbly edge in a monochrome comic is tricky—especially with the risk of drawing a koala.

Werewolf GROWL cannot be contained by borders: it's too deep, resounding, and a fun game with discourse time when the tapering crescendo creeps up on Cassian.

What is Cassian but a little shadow with big eyelashes?

The final wolf's shadow eclipses the borders slightly—it's larger than life—and the upright ears counter Cassian's drooping terrified hair. Glad I could get the major conflict introduced before the end of page two!

* The robotboy house style for drawing Diego Luna: huge wide-set eyes in a д shape. Heavy lower-outer lashes exaggerated down/out to the cheekbone. Sharp inner eye corners with lots of spikes. Big dark irises with lots of highlights (unless he's terrified: a tragic compromise I made often in this comic). Upper lash line sometimes has a visible lid on the outer side. Left eye corner has a little loop (𐋰) that sometimes appears where it meets the brow. Eyebrows are a curving zigzag that usually meets the outer corner of the eye, spikes down near the pupil, then angles up into a jagged inner edge. Nose has a prominent zigzag at the top, and a triangular tip that can be tilted very askew. A few vertical lines on the brow, a " on the chin. Mouth can be extremely small, generally a ^ shape. Jaw is angled much narrower than reality, with a small squared chin. Stubble only needs thin lines at the chin, sideburns, and halfway along the jawline, plus a moustache with a wide gap for the cupid's bow. High sharp cheekbones, tall brow that tilts back near the hairline, big earlobes often hidden by hair. Hair parts to the right, bigger wave on top with tighter curls underneath—always a few arcing tendrils to cover problems or steer the reader's gaze.

It's full moon! AWOOO!

Thank you @distressednoise @notasapleasure @bright-thorn and @blxcksqvadron for cheer-reading me through my most ambitious comics project to date.

[caramariafilm]

A TIGHT SPOT - Secondary Role for Film Workshop

CREATING THE PRODUCT - JOLLYBAR

For the JollyBar, I came up with the idea of buying Yorkie bars and covering them with my design, that way I’d have the shape and weight of the chocolate bar without having to construct it myself! So, I printed out my second draft of the JollyBar and used some clear, sticky plastic wrap to attach my design onto the chocolate bar.

Here was my first attempt, obviously the Nestle and the cut off ‘ORIGINAL’ would have to be covered. That being said, for my first attempt I was pretty chuffed. The colouring matched up perfectly and the size was exactly what I was looking for, with the print out getting close to the colour I wanted too. The plastic wrap also added a shine to the paper so I didn’t have to worry about the textures not matching.

After this, I figured out that adding a larger blue background to the JollyBar meant I’d be able to cut to the exact shape I needed to cover the Yorkie.

Here is that design:

I also added the ‘Luca’s!, cleaned up the text a bit so it was neater, and upped the saturation as printing it out decreased the vibrancy.

Luca asked if I could make multiple JollyBars, and at this point we both thought that having the JollyBars in a matching cardboard box that would slot either underneath the counter or next to it.

At this point, I started working away at making the JollyBar’s :)

I kept the information at the back and sides as this was just extra information that would make the bar look more realistic, however won’t have a closeup shot so doesn’t matter if it it’s slightly distorted! Once I got the hang of making these, it was super easy to recreate them as I had made a system.

After making 10 of the JollyBars, I got to making this box. Vanessa picked up a box for me to cover in the JollyBar logo.

This was SO helpful!! Like unbelievably so, made my job so so much easier. I printed out the same design as my chocolate bar and stuck them onto the front and sides.

The JollyBar’s fit perfectly into the box, with one bar fitting nicely on top making it easier for the actor to grab.

I was honestly really really happy with the chocolate bars. It’s one of the things I’m proudest about so far :) they look super realistic and I think my design just works perfectly with the aesthetic.

[zeawesomebirdie]

Oh my god okay hi i havent been online bc ive been reading On Writing by Stephen King and omg okay, i feel so much better about my drafts now

[strawbxrryneptune]

Hiiiii!!!! How are you?? Hope you're doing well💖💖

Although w kinktober you must be so busy, bt I wanna suggest smthng you might like. If you've seen the tiktok trend "come n get your girl, she be tryna flirt" or the waist whine thing(if not you cld check it out on yt),, it's just I can't getting my mind off abt thinking how katsuki(not bf katsuki jus him and u hve a crush in each other) wld find out abt your secret tiktok accnt and stumbles across your video on this and he's hooked n horny n in love all sorts of things . You guys may end up alone for hw or something by chance snd things take a wild turn djvinkjjnn.... I hope you like this idea bt regardless of all that, I wanna say I love your writings and have a beautiful day 💖💖💖

Reference + 2 person version

Let's ignore how long ago this was <3

Bit of an ooc Bakugou ?? I'm experimenting with my writing style. Unedited !!

♡♡

Come and get your girl, she be tryna flirt, so-

"Oi, what shit are you watchin'? "

You jump, your heart racing cause fuck you thought Bakugou was a teacher, catching you watching tiktoks instead of studying.

"Oh I was just scrolling through my fyp."

He scoffs, pulling out a chair next to you and plopping down in it, making it creak from the sheer size of him.

"You made any?"

"Videos?"

He shoots you a glare and you let out a huffing laugh, fingers tapping at your screen to bring you to your drafts. He leans closer and you're surrounded by his cologne, taking a small inhale and side eyeing him to make sure he didn't see.

You pull up the most recent video, and the music plays softly from your phone's speakers as he watches you lip sync, then move the phone down and move your hips along to the beat. Once the video starts to play again, you tap the screen and glance at him, your chest tightening a bit at the awkward silence.

"Uh, have you made any videos Bakugou?"

He scoffs and leans back, head titled as he stares at the ceiling.

"Nah, I'm not a tiktok junkie."

"I-"

"Didn't say you were, woman."

You nod and look away, starting to imagine Bakugou getting sturdy or doing stiff hips. You stifle a giggle before turning back to him.

"You should do one, just for fun. I'll teach you."

"Fuck no."

"Cmonn Bakugou I won't post it or send it to anyone, I won't even save it just try. If it's too hard for you just-"

"-Fuck off. Show me the dance."

"Do you want me to fuck off or show you the-"

He cuts you off with a glare and you grab your phone, setting it up against your water bottle and showing him a tiktok of two girls. After a minute, you start to set up the video and set the timer.

"Alright, you wanna be behind me or in front?"

"What do you think."

You roll your eyes at his attitude but get in front of him regardless, reaching over to grab the phone and start the video. You extend your arm to record you both and silently curse the gods for making him so tall cause you could barely get him in the frame.

The video starts and you lip sync along, trying not to laugh at Bakugou's pout, then bring the phone down to your hips and start to move.

Once the song stops you bring the phone back up to your face and laugh. He was barely visible at the lower angle, his hips rolling but way behind you.

"Why are you so far, Bakugou? You're supposed to be directly behind me."

He grumbles under his breath but doesn't protest when you start over. You lip sync once again and bring the phone down, and this time Bakugou is on you, his print pressing snug against your ass and almost making you drop your phone. You push your ass back hard on the last part, elicting a punched sound from his throat.

Once the video starts to play again you try to take a step forward, but big hands on your hips stop you.

"The fuck was that?"

"Excuse me?"

"That shit you just did, at the end."

"I dont know what you're talking about."

"Yeah?"

He presses against you again, and you can feel his dick throb underneath his sweats, fat and hot. You gasp softly, instinctively pushing back.

"We're in a library you fuckin sicko."

You grind against him again, laughing softly.

"Mm, I'm not the one who got hard though, hm?"

He snarls at you but presses into you once again, lingering for a second before pulling away.

Youre about to say something, but he turns you around and presses his lips to yours, sucking your bottom one into his mouth and holding your waist, groaning softly when nip at him.

"Grab your shit, we're going to my place."

You nod quickly before putting your books back in your bag, exiting out of tiktok where the video is still playing and shutting your phone off. Who new tiktok could be the reason you get laid?

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

one year

“--And I’m not sure about the ducks,” Dean hears Cas say as he shuffles into the kitchen. Cas is already sitting at their table in the breakfast nook that overlooks the backyard, with its picket fence that Dean finally put up just last week, and the lake beyond. He’s got his phone pressed against his ear.

The person on the on the other end of the line says something, Dean doesn’t recognize the lilt of the voice, and Cas replies, “I mean, I’m not sure about--oh, okay. Okay!” He glances up at Dean, a smile spreading across his face. “I’ve got to go. Tomorrow? Okay, great. Thank you! Bye.”

“Who was that?” Dean asks as he fixes himself a cup of coffee--Cas already seems to have one. “And what’s this about ducks?”

“Nothing about ducks,” Cas replies.

“Really? Because I could have sworn--” Dean stops at the look on Cas’s face. “Alright, no ducks.” 

They’ve been in the old lake house since early summer, but in many ways, it feels like they actually started living here this winter. The early days of their time in the boondocks was marked by mosquito bites, uncomfortable inflatable beds, and hot air rushing in through broken windows. 

(Dean fixed the windows just in time for the first thunderstorm, but then they discovered that the roof leaked.)

Now they’re onto finishing touches, which means that he finally feels like he can start properly enjoying his time here, but he also misses those early days. He misses the calluses on Cas’s tan hands that came from trying to turn their front yard into something resembling a yard, misses catching himself right before he fell off the ladder while trying to paint the shutters blue, misses nights where the power would short out so instead of watching television, he and Cas would stay up late talking. 

Dean feels like he’s gotten to know not only Cas but himself better here. 

And now, tomorrow, it will have been a year since this whole thing became silver-ring, kiss-in-front-of-all-their-friends, go-on-a-beach-honeymoon official, and that just feels--

It feels--

Dean opens the fridge and says to Cas, “What do you want for breakfast?”

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

The morning of February fourteenth dawns chilly, but warmer than most of the days out here on the lake. Even with the new insulation, there’s still a draft in the old house, but it’s aided by Cas next to him, an arm wrapped around his waist. Dean smiles to himself and brushes his lips against Cas’s forehead.

Cas’s eyes blink open slowly and then he smiles at Dean, one of those soft, broad ones that Dean spends half his time these days trying to coax out of Cas.

“Happy anniversary,” Dean says softly.

“Weird,” Cas replies.

“Gee, thanks.”

“I mean, it’s weird that it’s been a year. Already.” Cas props himself up to kiss Dean, and Dean kind of loses the thread of the conversation for a minute. “But it’s nice,” he finally says.

“What do you want to do today?” Dean asks. He has a feeling they’ll be fielding phone calls wishing them a happy anniversary, especially from Sam, who accidentally sent a card four days early (he and Eileen had both signed it, with Eileen adding in tiny print, I told him he didn't need to send this). Otherwise, though, they’ve got twenty-four wide open hours, and he’s thinking of something they could do right now without getting out of bed at all--

And then a horn honks outside.

“Who would be here this early?” Dean asks. They seldom get visitors, this far out, just left of the middle of nowhere. 

Cas’s cheeks turn curiously pink. “I never told them a time to show up.”

“Them?” Dean sits up. “Sweetheart, what did you do?”

They head downstairs in their pajamas to discover a truck parked in the gravel driveway and all sorts of quacking commotion coming from the truck bed. There’s a guy standing next to the truck with a clipboard. 

“...Ducks.” Dean turns to Cas. “Yesterday, you were on the phone with someone about ducks.”

“They’re from a wildlife reserve nearby where they take care of injured animals and then release them back into the wild...they like to do it near farms and things so people can watch the ducks.” Cas blushes more. “I read about it in the newspaper.” 

“And you got us ducks for our lake?”

Cas nods.

It’s the weirdest gift Dean’s ever gotten. He’s never been married until now, but in the movies it’s always jewelry or a trip or flowers for an anniversary. But he doesn’t really want any of those things (okay, he wouldn’t say no to flowers), and he loves the way they’ve turned this old lake house into their home, and he’s already imaging the contented look on Cas’s face while he feeds the ducks, and--

"I love you,” Dean says. “Did you know that?”

“You say it every day.”

“Well, bears repeating.” Dean takes Cas’s hand, kisses his cheek. “Let’s get our ducks.” 

(That afternoon, when Cas is by the lake’s edge, communing with the flora and fauna like he loves to do, Dean snaps a picture with his phone. The smile on Cas’s face as he plies the ducks with crusts of bread is even better than he could have imagined.) 

(All of this has been better than he ever could have imagined.)

[whoabo]

all i have

pairings: bo burnham x reader.

part one: all i wanted.

warnings: swearing, angst, sad bo.

era: inside (2020–21)

a/n: thank you guys for waiting so patiently for the second part. i’m so sorry it’s been so long, i accidentally deleted the first draft and had to re write it. so hopefully you enjoy. ily <3.

four days.

four days.

three nights.

you left four days and three nights ago. not even saying ‘i love you’ back.

bo hadn’t stopped calling you since that night. the only time the phone stopped ringing was when he fell asleep. clutching a tear stained pillow with bruce asleep by his feet.

he didn’t realize how much he royally fucked up. he didn’t realize just how much harm he did. he thought you were fine while he was working in the guesthouse. she never complained, so he never asked.

he now realizes how flawed his logic truly is.

when he awoke, his face felt hot. it felt wet. lifting a hand to his cheeks he sighed and stood up. the sound of bones popping as he stretched made him cringe.

he walked down the hallway— not without bending down a smidge to block from hitting the doorway. reaching the living room he collapsed on to the couch. he stared at the wall, one that held a framed photo. it was a picture of you and him, about four to five years ago, it was when he adopted bruce.

he always laughed at the picture when lever his eyes happened to land on it. it was pretty much a selfie of you two, that he printed and framed.

looking at it now makes a feeling rise in his stomach, a feeling that he can’t really describe. it’s not painful nor is it a good feeling. it’s more dreadful, anxiety ridden, if you will.

“jesus fucking christ.” he groaned sitting up.

he could already tell the layout of his day.

sit down, get up, call, sit down, get up, let bruce out, sit down, get up, call, sit down, get up, make lunch, sit down, call, get up, feed bruce, sit down, get up, call, lay down, and eventually cry everything out.

sounds eventful.

as he stood over the stove, cooking some eggs. he made a decision to take a two week long break from his special. he’s gonna spend. that time trying to get you to come home.

grabbing his phone he noticed the time; eleven forty nine. (11:49 am) and zero calls. well one from his mother but not one from the person he so desperately wants to talk to. back to his mother, he’ll just facetime her before he goes to bed.

he opens his phone as he turns off the stove. clicking on the green phone icon, he presses the oh so familiar contact.

the sound of your phone ringing was enough to pull you out of your sleep. your eyes squinted as you lifted up your phone to your face.

the name displayed caused a feeling in your stomach. guilt, anxiety, happiness, anger? who knows. it’s hard to depict the feeling to an exact word. if that makes sense.

“fuck it.”

accept.

not daring to say word, you hold the phone against your ear. the sound of his breathing is almost too loud, that being the only thing audible.

“hello? did- did you answer?” hearing quiet shuffles from the speaker, you close your eyes at the sound of his voice.

“you answered.” he spoke, sounding— almost— marveled that you did.

you sigh and open your eyes, “would you rather i didn’t?”

shit. you didn’t mean for that to sound snarky. but he deserves it.

“no, no. i just— you haven’t been answering me all week so i didn’t really expect you to answer.”

you sit up, leaning against the headboard of the bed. you anxiously note the tip of your nails as you figure out what to say to him.

“i’m sorry.”

really? ‘i’m sorry’? you have nothing to be sorry for, he’s the one who should be apologizing. he ignored you for months while living in the same house together and your gonna say sorry cause you didn’t answer his calls for four days?

that’s not shit compared to what he did.

a bittersweet chuckle left bo’s lips, “you’re sorry? i should be the one apologizing. i was a total fucking douche and left you alone. i shouldn’t have put this special so far above you. and to yell at you— .. god, i’m so sorry, honey.” his voice changed a lot during his mini ramble.

it started off very emotional, then started to get louder. not yelling but not taking in his regular speaking voice. it stood directly in the middle. but. it ended with boarder line whispering.

the way his voice sounded like a plead, in some sorts made you want to just drive home and hug and hold him.

he cleared his throat, “i miss you.”

did you miss him?

of course, who are we kidding.

“i miss you too.”

a gasp was heard from the other side of the phone. it sounded hopeful, excited, happy, etc.

“oh, you have no idea how happy that makes me, honey. god, i’ve missed you so much. i truly realized how much of an asshole boyfriend i was— am. i promise i won’t do that again.” he pleaded.

you take the phone away from your ear and look at your sheets.

just go back home.

“i.. uh.” you stuttered.

“you what, baby?”

you squeezed your eyes shut. it shouldn’t be this hard you’ve said this to him a thousand times before.

“i- i love you, bo. i don’t know when, but i’ll be back. soon. okay?” you whispered. so low, bo could barely hear it. but he caught it.

a noise crackled through which sounded like a sigh of relief.

“of course. take your time. i love you too, y/n.”

two am.

two o’ one am.

two o’ three am.

eventually, two thirty am.

weird time to be waking up and deciding to leave your friends house with a small paper on the fridge thanking her for letting you stay.

with a bag thrown— quite dramatically— in the back seat, you’re off.

there was something about that call. about his voice. the way he sounded like he had been sick or crying, maybe even both. how would you know, you’ve been gone.

the time spent away from him, it was needed. but now it was time to go back and see him. hold him. or hold bruce, whoever came up to you first.

pulling up to the house, you turned you headlight off and sighed. it was relief. the relief of finally being home.

all the lights were off but you saw his car in the drive way. luckily he’s home. but hopefully his in the house.

unlocking the door and making it down the hall to the bedroom door, which was already half way open. you snuck in and saw bo facing away from the door and clutching a pillow to his chest. bruce laid comfortably at his feet. you smiled, eyes tearing up the slightest bit.

your legs and feet start to move, somewhat, on their own and you walk to the other side of the bed. slowly, you slip under the covers and place a hand on top of bo’s.

he jolts a little and mumbles out your name, not able to open his eyes fully. he feels your hand come to contact with his cheek and he sleepily smiles.

“holy fuck, you’re home. i’ve missed you.” he slurs, seemingly too tired to even say words properly. the best he can do to show some kind of affection while being half asleep is moving his head to rest on your chest.

“i missed you too, bo.”

“i’m taking two weeks.. uhm, two weeks off from making my thing.”

you laugh at how tired he sounds. not being able to remember what exactly he’s working on at the moment.

he wraps an arm around your waist and soon enough falls back asleep. you smile and pull the blankets up more. almost covering both of your guys chins.

“goodnight, bo.” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“goodnight, y/n. i love you.” he murmurs.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #73

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way.

This is a follow-up to The Prom Consort (Brain Curd #22) - read that first!

Do you ever get the feeling you’re needed but not wanted? Lately, for me, it’s more than a feeling.

Claudia and Brie (though mostly Claudia) explained that they were angling for spots as prom royalty, and competition was fierce. If they wanted the votes, they needed to “make a splash” with something no one at our school had ever seen before: a triad. Or a ‘throuple’ as some are inclined to call it. Who could resist the idea of school staff scrambling to get a third crown for the prom consort? It’s too funny to pass up.

“What’s in it for me?” I asked, not bothering to swallow my chewed broccoli first. “Actually, better question - what’s in it for both of you?”

“Well…” Claudia said, “In case you’ve been living under a rock…”

“Stairs, actually.” I pointed up.

“… There’s a scholarship up for grabs. The richest guy in town is funding it. Five thousand dollars each to the prom king and prom queen.”

“Doesn’t sound like there’s any room there for me.” I ate another scoop of rice. “Or you for that matter, if there’s gotta be a king.”

“It sure doesn’t.” Brie shot a dirty look at Claudia. “But that’s just what’s on the posters. In the small print, it says five thousand each to all the prom royalty. Not ‘both’ and not gender-specific. Probably because they’re offering it to the prince and princess too.”

“So what you’re saying is, if we pull this off, we walk away with five grand each?” I pursed my lips and nodded. “Interesting.”

“Yes!” Claudia clapped her hands and giggled.

“And all I have to do is walk around holding hands with the two of you where everyone can see?”

“That’s right!” She bounced on her feet. “Are you in?”

“No.” I took another bite of my lunch. In the corner of my eye I could see how deflated she was by that simple utterance. It was delicious.

“Why not?”

“It sounds far-fetched to me, honestly.” I pointed my chopsticks at her. “And you know I don’t like that kind of attention. The money is nice, sure, but it’s no guarantee. Why go through all of that pageantry for what’s essentially a lottery ticket?”

Brie huffed. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this either, but there’s a power vacuum at the top. I have inside knowledge from the cheerleading squad. Chad and Stacy broke up this morning.”

I tilted my head. “No kidding?”

“It’s anyone’s game at this point.”

Chad and Stacy were the darling couple of the whole school. They’d been favorites for prom king and queen since they got together in freshman year. If they were no longer an item, that meant the couple with the best gimmick could easily win. And what better gimmick than being more than a couple?

I stood up and crossed my arms over one another to shake both their hands at the same time - my right hand to Brie and my left to Claudia. “I’m in.”

Being needed isn’t so bad, really. There’s good job security in that.