#i'm looking forward to this y'all

[aparticularbandit]

also finished the outline, and it does look like thirty-five chapters + prologue (already posted) + epilogue.

i'm in chapter thirty-three, so i have. 33-35 + epilogue left.

...and the five remnants chapters i haven't written yet, but i think i'm going to try and write those in one swoop probably next week? i have a general idea what those maintain, and i don't expect izuru to show up until maybe the second fic (i haven't decided yet because i want to see him in dr3 before i decide what to do with him).

so nine chapters total left to write.

chapters are usually 2-3k.

that's another 18-27k.

except that the first remnants chapter is relatively short in comparison with the other chapters and i expect the others to follow suit - so those should be between 1-2k. so that's 5-10k + 8-12k.

except again that the prologue was shorter, too, and i suspect the epilogue will follow that, too, so i'd put that one closer to 1-2k and not quite 3k.

which is 6-12k + 6-9k. so 12-21k. roughly.

right now i'm at a little over 67k, which means 79k at the lowest end (i'd round up for 80k) and 94k at the highest end (and i'd round up for 95k).

so this thing will likely end up anywhere from 80k-95k.

and there's a second fic.

i'm tired. XD

[abd-illustrates]

☃️ Eira ☃️

Finished art from this week's video! It was really nice to draw my ice boi again, but even nicer to see him (and the video itself) getting such a warm reception from y’all in the comments - thank y’all so much for the lovely energy 💖

[DO NOT EDIT OR REPOST TO OTHER SITES / ACCOUNTS] ♻️reblogs are lovely tho!♻️

[mobius-m-mobius]

#brb telling detective Aziraphale everything I know

[pushing500]

Well... I'm sure you did your best, Kwahu. Perhaps we'll find an artistic skilltrainer or something sometime and see if you can do a better one, but it'll do for now.

Before we recruit our lovebird prisoners, we have to convert them to see the truth of our ways. Ivy is a remarkably good socialiser, so she's on prison wardening duty. She's doing amazing!!

We usually feed our dead to the harbinger trees, so we don't have too many corpses lying around for this death pall to raise, but nobody likes choking on this smog while it's around. Everyone is annoyed about it (except Alistair who has never complained about anything because he's perfect)

Oh, hell...

What can we say except... welcome to the family!

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[kipskiptrip]

[viperwhispered]

Too Little

Part three of Jamil (not) dealing with feels here we go. Jamil x reader, Jamil’s pov Previous parts: part one, part two

This was stupid.

Here he was, rolling around in bed, unable to sleep because thoughts of you filled his mind.

It had been futile of Jamil to think that he could simply brush your presence aside, that he could treat you like just another schoolmate and not let you consume his mind. 

Not when every quiet moment had him reach for his phone in hopes of a new message from you.

Not when you kept on finding new ways to make his heart skip a beat every time he saw you.

Not when he missed you more acutely every time you weren’t there.

So, despite his best efforts, his mind treaded those same paths, time and again, occupied by all the parts of you. Your expressions, your mannerisms, your words, every single detail committed to his memory and played over and over.

He suspected that at this point he’d be able to recreate most of your expressions just from memory. Your voice, too, playing so clearly in his mind.

Not to even mention those oh so tantalizing what ifs, supplying him with even sweeter temptations than the confines of reality and memory could provide.

What it would feel like to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No. No no no. He would not go there.

Jamil could feel the heat burning in his cheeks and he rolled over, groaning into his pillow.

This was ridiculous. Absolutely preposterous.

Yet, there was no getting out of it.

He wanted you.

He wanted more of you, so much more than what he had.

Because each taste of you left him craving more, each glimpse made him want to uncover everything there was to you.

Even the parts you might consider ugly, as sappy as that was.

What kind of people did you like, anyway?

Charming? Intelligent? Funny?

Rich and influential? 

Did you even like guys? Or relationships in general?

Just the thought - relationship - made Jamil's cheeks burn even brighter, made his legs twitch under the covers.

Yet, somehow, it did not sound so bad.

To have you.

To be yours.

To know and be known.

He huffed and turned over onto his back.

As if his duties left room for something for himself, left enough of him to share with someone like that.

And would you like what you saw in him, anyway?

Yet, his excuses were beginning to sound more and more hollow.

After all, he was nothing if not resourceful, and so far you’d shown no signs of shying away, even as you dug your way deeper.

Jamil stared at the canopy over his bed with unseeing eyes.

He’d have to do something about this.

Because if he didn’t, he might just lose his mind.

But was the alternative any better? Could he even handle it? The full force of you, if - and it was a big if - you were to accept him.

Even now, when you looked at him in that particular way of yours… He never could hold your eyes for long when that happened. The softness and the warmth he saw were far too overwhelming, always forcing him to turn away lest he made a complete fool of himself.

If he were to have that, with the full force of affection intention behind it… How could he even bear it?

Like the other day… You’d found Jamil in the middle of his chores and dragged him away, his to-do list crumbling when you grabbed his hand and led him outside.

He was all too aware of how his protests had been half-hearted at best. How your sudden appearance, your touch had shut down every sensible part of him, leaving him unpleasantly raw.

And by the time he’d gathered himself, nearly convinced himself he had other things he should be doing instead, you were sharing ice creams outside Sam’s, to celebrate the first warm day of the year.

As if it wasn’t warm in Scarabia year round.

As if he hadn’t been too preoccupied by your happiness and enthusiasm to bring himself to heel.

Sometimes, it was all he could do not to be swept away by you, barely keeping his head above the surface.

So, what choice did he have but to act?

You’d made a home in his heart already, whether he asked for it or not.

All he could do was take control of what he could.

Eta: you can find part 4 here and part 5 / the final part here. Oh dear I'm starting to get tempted to write this from the reader's pov as well. Or maybe I'll just have to ramble about the thought process behind this at some point to get that out of my system. I also considered going to a more horny direction with this but decided to go with this kind of yearning in the end. But, if the horny version is of interest for y'all, maybe I can do that as an alternative / supplementary thing to this series, or some sort of a standalone at some point. Hope y'all enjoyed! One or two more parts are still to come. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @mazapanmiau @perilous-pasta @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, do let me know! Also feel free to specify if you only want tags for particular kinds of works (like sfw/nsfw for example).

[aliencatart]

so the story goes....

seriously such an amazing series and i'm going to be missing these kings very dearly

[croquettish]

stardew memes (3/?)

[the-all-seeing-l]

[addicted-to-the-knife]

I think it's very important that we bring back this inherent understanding that actors are also just some fucking guys (gender neutral)

[redo-rewind-if]

(o゜▽゜)o☆ progress report time! ☆゜

Next Update (Chapter 4):

Opening: 100%

Avoid August/Confront Him: 100%

A Normal Day at Work: 100%

You Can Fix This, Right? 🤡: 95%

Keep Your Friends Close...: 35%

Avoidant Route: 0%

Good news everyone! I'm getting really, really close to finishing the writing for this chapter. I'll still need time after for editing and coding and all that jazz but soon... soon...

My current (admittedly probably too optimistic) estimate for the Chapter 4 release is late February/Early March. No promises but I think it's doable. This chapter is shorter than the last, it's just complicated due to the time loops and the variations I need to add. Oh well, got nobody to blame for that but myself lol. 😅

[buggyrulez]

i need to be diagnosed

[pushing500]

The Sightstealer Saga: Part 2

Ahhh, I just love royal tribute collectors, don't you? They cleaned up a few sightstealers that must have been loitering near the trading spot, which was very nice of them. The fewer sightstealers we have to deal with, the better!

Jut and Ivy seem to be getting along—I like to imagine they've bonded over their shared void-tentacle-parasites. Jut's ideas of appropriate conversation topics for eight-year-olds are... well, they're unique, for sure.

I also love his sombrero lmao

We are the Mechanitor's Message, and it seems like the best way for a pair of Mechanitors to fight a swarm of void monstrosities is to, y'know, summon mechs.

While a lot of sightstealers did wander into our killbox (and get completely obliterated for their efforts), there were still far too many of them for our liking. We did contemplate going out to meet them face-to-face, buuuut... in the end we decided it's safer to huddle in the safety of our walls and wait for the mechs to arrive.

Oh, and also Ludwig—the crash-landed fifteen-year-old from the last update—recovered and decided to leave. We ushered him out while the sightstealers were busy with the tribute collectors and the killbox, so he's not taking up resources anymore.

Next time on The Sightstealer Saga: can the hostile mechanoids defeat the sightstealers? Or will we be required to turn to... other places for help? *squints at the psychic ritual spot, the nociosphere, and the outposts*

Stay tuned to find out!!

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[redgearsmovin]

🎊🎉

[wolfsbanesparks]

🌹!!

Hi anon! Thanks for the ask!

This is from an upcoming chapter in Pretty Little Thing (it's technically 2 sentences but I like it too much lol)

J’onn could mimic his musculature, could copy his smile, could even speak in his voice, but he couldn’t radiate kindness and love in the same way. He could fight his villains, save his city, but he couldn’t make them feel at peace.

[4th-make-quail]

Happy WIP Wednesday everyone!! Here is a good chunk of my Eric/Assad fic for your zamasian pleasure, with screenshot text is under the cut~!

The fic is 5.2k total, give or take when I've done edits and got my beta back hehe

Assad was more aware of the position of his own hand than he’d ever been in his life, it felt like. The way he could feel the warmth of Eric’s thigh under his palm, the way he wasn’t moving away - god, the way he was running his fingers over Assad’s shoulder, fingertips just skimming his skin where the shirt hung off there. He shivered. That had to be on purpose. Right? Fuck it.

He squeezed Eric’s thigh, slid his fingers down the inside and squeezed again. Good thighs. Really good thighs.

“So, uh.” He felt his cheeks warm as Eric’s fingers slipped down under the seam of his shirt, caressing his shoulder then up to his neck. “Not misreading this, then.”

“No, you’re definitely not misreading.” Eric cupped his neck and stroked his jawbone with his thumb. “This is what you want, isn’t it.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” Assad tossed back the rest of his glass of wine and nearly threw it onto the floor in his haste to put it down. He unfolded his leg and draped one of them over Eric’s lap, scooching in closer so that his still-folded leg pressed up against his thigh. “Is it what you want?”

“You think I’d be here doing this if it wasn’t?” Eric put his own glass down on the side table, then leaned over and wrapped one arm around Assad, slipping his hand up the back of his shirt while cupping his face with the other.

Fuck, but his hands were nice. Big and sturdy. And then Assad couldn’t possibly be thinking about hands because Eric pulled him closer and kissed him, deft and slow.

He made a startled sound into Eric’s mouth, then melted against him, glad he’d got rid of the wine glass so he could reach up and push his fingers into those lovely curls. Their tongues brushed and Assad’s eyes closed, giving himself over to sensation; soft lips and the flavour of red wine, plush mouth and the curve of a smile he could feel along with a deep chuckle.

“If I’d figured this out earlier, we could have been doing this so much sooner,” Eric drawled between kisses.

Assad laughed. “And there was me thinking I’d been pretty obvious. All those interviews and fluff pieces and I was sure you weren’t interested.”

“Mm, well now you know. What do you wanna do about it?” Eric’s hand roamed up Assad’s back, “because I can think of a few ideas.”

“Oh, I bet you can.” Assad couldn’t suppress a shiver, though, and he was suddenly too warm with a hat on, so off it went, sailing through the air behind him and leaving his hair free and not too frizzy given that the scenes earlier that day had called for the heavy oil and gel routine. “This is nice, but I think-” Assad straightened, then knelt up and swung his leg over Eric so that he was straddling his lap, “this is nicer.”

He was very suddenly aware that he was getting hard, but considering the whole… everything… he didn’t think that’d be a problem.

Both arms slotted over Eric’s shoulders and he bent to kiss his jaw, the corner of his clever, sardonic mouth.

“Yeah, definitely nicer.” Eric's hand dipped down to Assad's lower back, pushing past the elastic of his pyjama bottoms and boxers to cup his arse.

Assad's hips bucked and he moaned against Eric's neck, pressing open mouthed kisses against his skin. He smelled like aftershave and sweat and wine, a heady and distracting mix, and suddenly it wasn't enough contact, wasn't enough skin.

He sat upright and grabbed for Eric's shirt, pulling it over his head without ceremony and flinging it across the sofa in his haste to finally get his hands on Eric's body.

He was broad and sturdy, with soft tummy and a coating of softer silvered hair all across his chest and down, and Assad couldn't stop himself from touching, from smoothing both hands across his pecs and down to squeeze at his tummy.

“You are so damn hot,” he breathed, eyes wide and cheeks warm.

“Like you're one to talk, wearing this.” Eric's hands went up under Assad's shirt again, framing his waist and moving to cup his pecs too. “The amount of times I thought about you, goddamn. They really know how to dress you, that's all I'm gonna say.”

Eric leaned up and captured Assad's mouth in another kiss, then divested him of his shirt too. His hands were big enough to squeeze Assad’s pecs like tits, and he bent to suck on a nipple greedily, late night stubble prickling deliciously.

Assad's head fell forward and he pushed both hands into Eric's hair, gripping hard as he sunk teeth into his nipple, biting and licking it to ripe hardness.

“Goddamn,” Eric said against his skin, muffled, “you are so fucking hot…” Another bite and then he turned his attention to the other nipple, suckling at it hard enough to make it darken, teeth nipping hard enough to make Assad’s hips buck again, his toes curl.