#it's been in the back of my writing folder since april and i want it out XD

[catatombi]

beware of fang

Hey, im gonna say it outright and state that this is a call out. people get called out for being dangerous. fangs nearly pushed 3 people to commit suicide(including myself) and i had to be hospitalized because of him, so this feels justified. Im sorry if you disagree, ill keep it short and to the point If you’ve been a long time follower of his im sure you’ve seen his vague posts about his ex friends, the cotl tumblr community and “fandom drama” with little to no context behind it, other than various people appearing on his DNI. his vague nature in the posts is intentional, he doesn't want to let on that he was abusing his friends. Ive tried time and time again to write something but it never seemed right, like what he’s done to me and my friends wasn’t severe enough to warrant something like this, but it is and i don't want to let this go any longer, esp not when he has my friends, their names, usernames and literal contact information in his DNI list Over the last year ive been friends with fang hes been horrible. Hes never changed and refuses to acknowledge what hes done to his friends and how horribly he has hurt them, to keep this short im keeping this bullet pointy Here is his carrd, he has everything neatly outlined for yall to block on every platform Dont harass, dont contact. all of this is public information so https://web.archive.org/web/20240713073710/https://fanged-info.carrd.co/#boundaries

https://fanged-info.carrd.co/ Twit: FFANGEDD / narilamb_ / mewhenimsilly Insta: ffangedd / narilamb Tumblr: ffangedd / fanged-cotl / fanged-xeno Cara: narilamb Blusky: fanged / narilamb Itaku: fanged Artfight: FANGED Toyhouse: FFANGEDD Sheezy: fanged Discord & telegram: narilamb All the people mentioned have given consent Cw !!! abuse, suicide, self harm https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG

The drive is a bit out of date, as I logged it all before april. Hes posted more awful shit and vented to me again since then Feel free to request the letter i wrote to him, i might share it anyway because it sums up my thoughts on the matter If you want any additional context feel free to ask

Fang uses suicide and self harm threats to control and manipulate his friends, hes begged me for assisted suicide and when i refused to help him commit he begged in groupchats. He begged on instagram stories as well as twitter, so much so that his twitter for suspended for 12 hours. He has admitted to wanting someone to commit suicide with him and has previously formed suicide pacts and nearly followed through on one with a friend. fang backed out first. he continues to redirect blame. refusing to take accountability for his actions. He still blames his previous medications, his ex psychiatrist, his self diagnosed BPD & OCD, psychosis, and states of beings from disorders he doesn't have (claiming to be manic or sociopathic whilst not having bipolar1 or ASPD) fang blames his (ex)friends, claiming they were projecting their mental illness onto him when they were just reacting to his abuse, that they the ones in the wrong and that how they treated him/cut him off was vile and unfair, and believes that he never got real closure when he did. it just wasn't what he wanted to hear and now feels entitled to an apology from these people when all he’s ever done is traumatize and terrorize them. He describes the amount in which he has cut over pavi, wart and kat because what they put him through and how they traumatized him. The traumatizing actions were: Kat asking for a content warning, pavi didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore and blocked him without an explanation & wart blocked him after being emotionally abused for months Hes described how he would carve their names into his thigh and told me that he will carve my name into his skin when i leave too. He demanded wart and surf choose their “real friends” and cut off their community for him because fang hated that they were being “two-faced” and hanging out with “people who hate him” He would spend hours venting relentlessly and graphically in his friends DMs, demanding their time and attention and expecting immediate replies. His friends are not professionals and shouldnt be expected to be an on-call DIY therapist for him, for hours, without consent. Fang has said he is completely unwilling to self censor for other peoples safety fang has vented to a 13 year old (they were not hiding their age) He referred to me (and our friends) as a phone person, a voice, icons. Concepts he can talk. Completely dehumanizing everyone that cared about him even to their faces. He blames his ex friends for his poor mental health and has said he wishes they watched him commit suicide, he wanted his friends to be traumatized from this (as if they werent already.) When a friend posted a screenshot of a gamenight to tumblr he had a breakdown so severe and so dangerous for so long that several of his friends has to mute the DM to keep themselves safe from his verbal abuse and suicide/SH threats He doesn't care about how triggering any of this can be for someone and will subject anyone (including people in danger) to his “venting” He didnt care about triggering me and contacted me at the worst of my suicidality in january and exasperated the danger i was in so severely I had to be hospitalized against my will before I could commit suicide. 

Im honestly not entirely sure what to even think. he knew the severity of my suicidality. he knew I had been hospitalized for an attempt in 2022, and still he chose me, probably the most vulnerable of his friends at the time to vent that heavily too back in janurary Hes a dangerous selfish person whos proven over and over that hes not getting better and isnt willing to change, i honestly had hope when he slowed down his graphic vent posts and victim blaming on twitter and insta but he decided to say fuck all and get right back into his shit train of shame and misery. Heres a link to all of the screenshot, damning ones are in important bitz if you’re not interested in going through them all https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG in these screens alone he: admits to sending his cuts to his friends, threatens to cut if i leave, admits that he was going to go through with a duel suicide and begged me for assisted suicide

warts screenshots v

full screenshots & complete context in the drive as for him claims that i was stalking him: i was scared, i was his friend. i tried so hard to be good enough and never was. the screens were a by product of confiding in my friends about what was happening and the drive was made to share w/ them i admit i prolly shouldve combed out some of it but, ykno also big phat apology for tagging cotl!!!!! only did bc fang has, please stay safe everyone, and thank you so much if you have read everything (the doc encase anyone was wanting it ! figured i;d just use tumblr regular posting method) https://docs.google.com/document/d/17QjXUEdQVd8c4GZS--vPo-xR3kgmoLl4ZmN3ROMutg0/edit?usp=sharing

edit as of 8:30pm 7/17/24 here is a link to pavi's response warts response and kats response

[linane-art]

GF's AUpocalypse 2024 - Cinderella AU

Bonus fullsize Fili

MY OTHER EDITS

There's also a bit of a story to go with this one, some 5.2k of it. I've been sitting on it since April 2017.

However, before you read it, you should know that it's not great, in fact, I consider it to be sub-standard writing for me, and will not be publishing it on my AO3 or anywhere else. It's also unfinished and will not be getting finished - you should also know that.

Fundamentally, I wrote as much as I did and had a major disagrement with the concept of 'love at first sight'. You see, to my mind, it doesn't work for FiKi as a pairing (or possibly it just doesn't work, full stop). What my heart wants is about 80k-100k of a slow burn, covering the span of about 6 decades where they get to know each other, heaps of mutual pining, construct proper personalities for both Fili and Kili, unpack the blatant inequality of power between them etc. etc. I want to flesh out and develop plot-lines for Dis, Thorin and the Ri-brothers, and figure out how the magic works in this universe.

But the original Cinderella fairytale doesn't allow me the space for all of that. It's all: ball > marriage > happily ever after. Which to me, frankly, is utter nonsense. *Shrug*

But it fitted perfectly with the photoset I came up with and I'm glad to see it aired out and of my Writing Folder, so here goes nothing:

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

Prince Fili’s Third Coming of Age Ceremony took place at a tender age of 65.

It was early perhaps, but then these were perilous times: the Prince was not only battle-ready, he’d had some practical experience of it, having taken part in a number of skirmishes with orcs around the kingdom’s borders. He was a fierce warrior, a cunning diplomat and a hot-headed idiot in turns, which in the common folk was met with a mix of disgruntled admiration and exasperation. But he was liked well-enough and easily acknowledged as King Thorin’s heir both within the kingdom’s borders and outside of them. He’d inherited the position; but he made it truly his own with charm, charisma and hard work.

Had he fully understood what the Ceremony entailed, Fili himself would have perhaps resisted, but he was young and confident and used to getting his own way. Besides, the Third Coming of Age meant far greater freedom and independence from the Crown and, like any young dwarf, Fili pounced at the opportunity of having a longer leash.

The celebrations were planned to befit the grandeur of the House of Durin: there was to be a great ball of course, guests from the four corners of the world, tables laid full to the brim with good food and drink, music and entertainment, and even a firework display at midnight.

Once again, Fili graciously agreed, happy enough to share his own joy with others and delighted to have some merriment within the walls of a usually restrained palace.

The trouble started when Thorin let slip that he’d be looking for a bride for Fili during the ball. It was important that Fili was married as soon as possible and would be better yet if he had a bairn on the way not long after. Succession was paramount to kingdom’s stability and Thorin was nothing if not determined to have not only an heir, but also a spare.

There was a meticulously planned and researched list of eligible princesses, all lined up to be whisked away onto the ballroom floor, in appropriate order of course, sized up as potential brides, and romanced just enough to become an enthusiastic fiancée or an un-problematic rejection. The ball was now less than a month away and all invitations had been sent, with folk pouring into the mountain day and night, all excited to boot at this excellent opportunity to get utterly plastered at someone else’s expense.

In short: it was too late now to back out.

Luckily, Prince Fili, who at that point had 65 years’ worth of experience in dealing with his King and uncle, kept his cool.

“Yes uncle,” he agreed with a grin just wide enough to suggest to an ardent observant that mischief was brewing in that clever head of his.

Luckily, King Thorin, was not the most ardent of observants.

Fili bowed with just a touch too much charisma and left the Council chambers to the respectfully low murmur of voices.

And then he did what any young dwarf would have done in his place: he hatched a plan.

---

Kili gave a triumphant little grunt, as he finally managed to remove a particularly stubborn patch of soot from the inside of the fireplace. He’d been scrubbing at it for the past 20 minutes and had to admit that it felt good to be finally getting somewhere.

“You’ve missed a spot,” Dori supplied behind him helpfully, pointing to the opposite corner with a poker.

Kili sighed and crawled in that direction. When it came to cleanliness, Dori was a tyrant.

He started scrubbing anew.

It wouldn’t be fair to say that Dori was being mean per se. He himself had been polishing all the wooden furniture just feet behind Kili, which might have been a cleaner job, but no less labour intensive. It was simply that Dori had really high standards when it came to cleanliness of a respectable dwarven homestead. Higher even than Kili’s own mother and that was saying something.

Still, could be worse, Kili supposed: Ori had been relegated to cleaning the outhouse.

He sighed and attacked the stonework again. At least Nori was nowhere to be found, which meant that Kili couldn’t get into trouble. For now.

---

It took Prince Fili a while to weasel the right info out of the right people. It was important though that he got this right, and Fili took his time. He only had one shot at this.

It was only a week before the party when he finally managed to get away from the Palace for long enough to make the trip.

He pulled his hood tighter around his annoyingly-recognisable golden head, before stepping confidently into the light.

“Are you the one they call the Fairy Godmother?” he addressed the dwarrowdam by a cart, who was overseeing it being loaded with some heavy-looking casks by three burly characters.

She turned away from the wagon slowly, giving him a measured once-over. The scrutiny chafed somewhat, when directed at the royal heir without an ounce of respectful deference, but Fili stood his ground and offered what he hoped was a friendly smile.

“That depends on who’s asking,” she said and tilted her head curiously. Behind her, three sets of hands produced an array of heavy and sharp objects indicating that there was a correct answer to this question.

Fili held out his empty hands, hoping that the pommels of his daggers weren’t showing. “A simple, unarmed traveller, who has use of your… services and will pay for them handsomely.”

He produced a heavy purse of coins and offered it on his outstretched palm.

She arched an eyebrow at him, as if to say ‘that’s what you’re going with?! Really?!’, but took the coin and gestured for the other three to stand down and get back to loading the barrels.

Fili attempted his best friendly smile once more.

“And what is it that you want from the Fairy Godmother? Fame? Fortune? Both?” her voice was dripping with sarcasm.  

Fili took a deep breath. “I wish to marry the one person in all my life that I will truly love,” he demanded. “And soon. Like�� in the next week or so.”

The woman snorted. “Honestly, lad, in your position that’s hardly a sensible wish. Fame and fortune would have been easier.”

“Sensible or not, is it possible? Men in taverns all the way from the Mountain to the very ends of our lands swear by your name, so I understand you have the power equal almost to that of the wizards. Unless this simple wish is beyond you?”

Flattery, sprinkled liberally with a hefty dose of goading. He’d honed that particular technique on the Elven delegations.

“Son, I sell spirits,” the dwarrowdam deadpanned. “Spirits happen to be exactly what men in the taverns wish for more than anything. Sometimes they call me the Fairy Godmother for it. That is all.”

It was an unfamiliar feeling, as if he had lost his footing all of a sudden, but Fili recovered quickly. “Fine spirits too, as I see. Is that blue absinthe seal that my eyes see on those barrels already loaded?”

“What’s it to you?” the sorceress’ eyes narrowed and, as if by some unspoken command, the sharp implements behind her manifested themselves once again.

“Nothing,” Fili took a step back in a minor tactical retreat. “Only if I am to have my heart shattered, I should very much like to purchase one of those. You know, to soothe the pain.”

“They are not for sale. Already paid for and going to the Ceremony,” she gave him a Look that was more of a threat than the blunt tools she indirectly controlled.

Contrary to the popular belief Fili did have a self-preservation instinct. He just wasn’t very good at consulting it.

“Oh, I see! Only, I happen to know that the royal requisitioners are out of the invoice forms for these,” he said. “Something to do with the printing presses and a mucky contingent of ink, I believe. So that would make this little operation of yours technically… um, black market.”

The sorceress glared and Fili had to admit that the glare was rather impressive.

Still not completely sure he had the upper hand, he gave her his best dimpled smile, the one that made people drop things sometimes.

Finally the Fairy Godmother sighed, rolled her eyes, unceremoniously grabbed Fili by the elbow and pulled him away from the others. “There may be a way, but it doesn’t work well on young, hot-headed fools,” she hissed ominously once they were out of the earshot.

Fili nodded seriously, reassured that he was at least eligible. “Excellent.”

“The Spell of True Love. It will work regardless of whether you agree with your heart’s choice or not. People often overlook that last point.”

Fili nodded again.

“There is a price to pay.”

“I was expecting that.”

“For every moment you spend with your love when you first meet them, you will spend years and decades apart before you can finally be together.”

“… Years or decades?”

“A long time!  It’s not exact science!”

“Right, right. And how long do you consider to be a moment?”

“Seriously?!”

“This is quite important,” Fili protested.

The sorcerers spun on her heel and made to walk away.

“No, wait! I accept!” he decided on the spot.

The dwarrowdam stopped.

Turned.

Looked him up and down.

Fili, once more, withstood the scrutiny.

“Alright then,” she said finally and the Prince breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, truly. Now what do you need for your spell?  Some of my blood? A lock of hair? A black chicken to sacrifice at midnight?”

She stared at him again. It was getting unnerving. “Your heart is young yet, but kind and likeable enough for someone who might find that cockiness of yours charming somehow,” the sorceress said finally, making him feel strangely flattered. “But you’re also an idiot,” she finished.

“Er…” Fili was not used to this kind of treatment. “Thanks. Mostly. Now, about the contract –“.

“No contract,” she threw over her shoulder, now almost back to her wagon.

“No contract?!” Dwarves felt strangely unnerved when they didn’t have a piece of parchment in their hand which clearly defined each party’s roles and responsibilities. “But then how will I know?!”

“You just will.”

“But when?!”

“Soon.”

“How soon?! It would have to be at the ball at the latest, otherwise I fear even your magic won’t be able to make my uncle change his mind.”

Fairy Godmother calmly climbed to the seat of her cart full of contraband booze. “You’re going to have to trust me,” she told him by the way of goodbye and clicked on her ponies to walk on.

---

Dis got back home later than she expected.

By then the house was mostly asleep, including Kili, who had somehow slotted himself, legs and all, into an armchair in front of the fire. He’d clearly been waiting for her.

She paused to watch her son for a moment. He had a smudge of soot on his cheek and dark stains, probably of the same nature over the knees of his trousers. He looked exhausted and his knuckles were scuffed.

She sat heavily on the sofa opposite from him and stared into the fire for a moment.

This was not a life she had envisaged for her son. When she and Myori fell in love, both of them widows – she, once, Myori staggering three times – it looked as if life had finally slotted itself onto the right tracks.

They both had families of their own of course, but with all four boys between them grown and close to leaving home, it seemed like they could make it work. Dis finally took over her father’s brewery full time and Myori dived head-first into her fledgling alterations business.

It felt like they were living once again and there was laughter in the house even if every now and then teenage boys sparked into some new drama.

Little did she know that they only had three short years together ahead of them. Illness took her love and there was nothing Dis could do about it. It was then that she promised herself never to dabble in love magic again.

Love – she couldn’t remember any more why people craved to be loved so much. 

And now she was the only mother the four of them had left.

There was no backing out though, not when they all depended on her, not to mention all the families the brewery employed.

She wasn’t spending nearly enough time with Kili, and if she was honest with herself, that was the one thing that was eating at her the most.

He must have felt like an orphan at times, but he smiled for her all the same and did his best to be useful around the house. She knew he worked hard, perhaps harder than he should have, if Dori was involved. Dori, who was a perfectionist and had his own home for a time, but returned now to help her look after his two younger brothers.

Kili deserved better; they all did.

Dis sighed and licked her thumb so she could try and wipe the soot off Kili’s cheek.

“Wha -?” he blinked at her owlishly and stirred in his seat.

“Hey, there, Grasshopper. You should be in bed,” she smiled at him.

“Cooked you dinner. S’ on the stove,” he mumbled and returned the smile when she kissed the top of his head.

“Thank you. Now scamper off to bed.”

“No. I’ll sit with you.”

“Kili.”

Her son sighed dramatically in that peculiar way all teenage dwarves seemed to have, but obediently padded towards the stairs.

“Night, mum.”

“Good night, Kili.”

Dis didn’t move immediately. Instead she sat back for a moment longer and pondered the dubious problems of a princely life.

And then she blinked, as a terrifying thought gained momentum in her mind like a fully loaded cart with no breaks on.

---

Prince Fili made it back to his chambers just as the steps sounded on the corridor outside his door. Thankfully, this was hardly his first time sneaking out, so Fili kept a cool head: he kicked off his boots, ran his fingers through his hair and in one smooth move rolled under the covers.

“Fili?” his uncle peered into the room before approaching his bed.

Fili performed his best snore and tried to slow down his breathing.

Bed next to him dipped a little as his uncle and king sat on the edge of the mattress and moved to stroke Fili’s soft, golden hair away from his face.

“You must be exhausted from all the preparations,” his uncle’s low voice sounded in the spacious chambers. “Don’t you worry, sister-son. We will find you a worthy bride, I have taken all the right steps. In your position there will be times when she’ll be your only source of solace, so we’ll be sure to get it right,” he whispered, then tugged Fili’s fur-lined covers up to tuck his shoulder in.

Fili supposed that it must have been difficult, not having a child of your own, or a consort to share your life with. Thorin had had plenty of offers back in his time, but he’d always put the affairs of the kingdom first, until eventually the offers stopped coming. Fili was going to do it all in reverse: consort first, affairs of the kingdom second. Not because he was selfish, but because he thought that a good consort made for a brilliant king.

Blue eyes opened just as the door closed once again. “I have taken steps too, uncle,” Fili informed his chambers, before setting about pulling the rest of his clothes off and making himself comfortable.

---

Dis cast her runes.

She squinted, peering at the answer they formed.

“No,” she huffed, gathered them once more and cast them again.

Yes, the runes insisted.

Dis rolled her eyes and lit another candle. “Give me another option,” she demanded and cast again.

This time all of the runes bounced straight off the table, landing in a complete gibberish on the floor.

“Absolutely not,” Dis insisted with emphasis, focussing all her energy and causing the six candles around her to burn blue for a while. “Tell me.”

The runes, perhaps fed up with the stubbornness of dwarves, bypassed the subtle hints and suggestions and simply lined themselves into neat, straight lines of a name:

KILI

---

A lazy Saturday morning, some 6 days later found Kili fighting with his tunic.

“This is way too fancy, mum!” he whined, when his hair caught in the elaborate lacing around the neck.

“Nonsense, you have to look your best. It’s the Royal Palace, Mahal’s sake!” she snapped and helped him find the edge of the collar only to reveal the desperate state of his hair.

“Fancy clothes or not, I’ll be standing out like a sore thumb,” Kili huffed, but finally managed to fit all his various limbs into the right holes. “I don’t belong there! They probably won’t even let me in.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! The posters clearly invited everyone who wished to attend ‘with good will in their hearts and best wishes for the Prince’.”

The rest of the household was still asleep when Dis slipped into her son’s room with a little parcel in her hands – which was just as well, since they only had the one set.

The clothes had been made by Myori, as one of her most lucrative orders ever, and then returned for some petty reason or another. The tunic was a beautiful navy blue shade, embroidered in real silver thread, free-flowing from the waist down. The trousers were made out of fine, dark fabric and had a flattering cut.

Thank Mahal, although Myori would have wanted to alter it here and there, for the most part the clothes suited Kili great.

“But why do I have to go?!” Kili whined for the umpteenth time and attempted to sort out his hair, which only made everything worse.

Dis huffed and took a brush to it yet again. “It’s fate,” she told him once more, matter-of-factly, like the previous five times. “Besides, there will be free food and drink for all. All the high society, the great and powerful of our kingdom. Who knows, you might even find the love of your life there!”

“Amad…” he gently caught her wrist and half-turned to look her in the eye.

“You’re going, and that’s final,” she told him sternly, ushering him out into the corridor. “Come on, your carriage awaits!”

“My carriage?!”

“You’re taking the cart.”

“I can’t take the cart to a Royal Coming of Age Ceremony!! I’d rather walk!”

“Which I would approve of normally, if we had about 2 days to spare. But since we don’t, you’re taking the cart,” she practically shoved him up onto it. “Now then. Mind your language and manners, always remember who you are and – oh. You must return the cart by sunrise. My other orders do not stop just for a fancy dress party.”

“By – sunrise?! But that’s -”

“You’ll need to leave at midnight at the latest.”

“Mother!”

“Don’t you ‘mother’ me, young man!” She gave him a look, which seemed just a tiny bit too harsh to be believable. “Now off with you.”

After that she slapped the pony’s rear and suddenly Kili went from naught to twenty in no time at all.

It wasn’t until he made it to the next town over that Kili realised that with all the ushering, grooming and cajoling, he was still wearing his comfortable, worn house slippers.

---

Prince Fili was certain that his legs were going to fall off any minute now.

He’d danced twenty dances straight. A lesser dwarf would have thrown in the towel by now, grabbed the nearest fair-bearded, highly-accomplished, delightfully charming, brilliantly-intelligent, exquisitely-well-connected beauty and called it a day.

But not Fili.

Fili could, and would out-stubborn Thorin, who was widely regarded as the most stubborn dwarf in the land. It was a point of personal pride, honed over long decades of his childhood. So instead he stomped towards the ale station and poured himself an entire tankard of whatever happened to be on the tap.

He’d chugged down about half of it in one go, which deprived him of a view of one excellently-dressed, yet utterly befuddled dark-haired youth stumbling in through the main entrance.

Fili licked his moustache and threw a desperate glance at a hall heaving with excellent opportunities.

Then blinked.

His heart beat faster and if Fili believed in such nonsense, he’d swear that the room fell silent in that moment, the candles twinkled around them a little warmer, the air smelled sweeter and –

The lad, with an unerring instinct of his young and thirsty dwarven blood, zeroed in on the drinks station and strutted purposefully towards it, with every intention of drinking the house down.

He was coming towards Fili. For Fili. To save him from a love-less life.

The lad reached for an empty tankard, and Fili, like a seasoned battle commander that he was, made his move.

“Would you do me the honour of a dance?”

The dark-haired dwarf jumped and turned to look behind himself. Then to the sides. “What, me?!”

“Yes, you.” Fili cringed and then slapped himself mentally. “Forgive me, I’m being rude. I would have addressed you by your name, but I’m afraid I’ve missed it upon your arrival.”

“It’s Kili, actually,” the lad replied, head cocked to one side curiously. “And you are –“

“Prince Fili of the House Durin –“

Kili dropped his tankard.

“Excellent, now you have free hands!” Fili decided for both of them, practically threw his own tankard at the nearest servant and swept Kili right onto the dance floor.

---

“Oh, hell no!” Dis groaned, watching as a delicate silk ribbon, which up until a moment ago peacefully occupied one of the drawers of her dresser, now tied itself into a perfect, triple bow.

She yanked at one end, but it held. Beside her a candle flame turned blue.

Dis narrowed her eyes and breathed deeply. She supposed if she got her son this far, she’d have to get him the rest of the way too.

---

“You… look uncomfortable,” amused, but not unkind blue eyes watched him as they sailed across the sea of swirling couples.

“I wasn’t exactly planning on dancing with a Prince.”

Fili arched an eyebrow at him and Kili wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. “Would you have danced with any other dwarf?”

“Depends on the dwarf.”

That got him an incredulous smile and Kili stared at the dimples which peeked from behind a neat, honey-coloured beard.

He wasn’t prepared for the easy charm, strength and intelligence he saw. Something else underneath it all, quiet, but hopeful. He wasn’t prepared for the normality of it all. It didn’t feel like he met a Prince; it didn’t feel like he met any other dwarf either.

It felt like he met someone special, someone who might have been a friend if they had enough time together.

Kili swallowed, torn about what he should do next. He didn’t want to joke and flirt and try too hard to keep their conversation casual, when it simply wasn’t. Equally, he couldn’t very well plunge into any meaningful conversation, when they only likely had a few moments together.

“You look like you have questions,” Fili guided him gently, the same way he guided the movements of his body. “You should ask, even if only a couple. Otherwise you’ll forever wish you had.”

---

Thorin did a double-take.

Fili’s partner was beautiful and dressed in a way that spoke of pedigree, wealth and class. She was grace and poise itself, as they glided across the dance floor like they belonged together. They were also deep in conversation, real conversation, which was more than could have been said for any of Fili’s previous partners.

His nephew had been nothing if not courteous to all of the various assorted princesses and duchesses and ladies of appropriate breeding, and he’d danced with all of them in the pre-prescribed order, until Thorin was beginning to feel kind of guilty about the whole affair.

He knew Fili and he knew when he was being polite, but not invested. If he was honest, Thorin was expecting much more of a rebellion, so when Fili continued on his best behaviour, Thorin started to wait for the other shoe to drop.  

But now… now the whole thing was beginning to look like it had been worth it.

He watched as one song came to an end with Fili swirling his partner in a wide arc, which landed her in his arms, with her rich, dark brown hair sweeping around his neck like a shawl.

Their eyes locked for a moment, their chests heaving as they held on.

And then Fili disregarded his next ticket and guided the mysterious lady into another dance.

Thorin allowed himself a single smug grin and then ordered another shot of the excellent blue absinthe they were serving.

---

“I saw a fire moon once. It rose over the pass near Dunland. Huge! Red and gold it was, it filled the sky.”

Fili was drowning in expressive brown eyes. Right in that moment he wanted to see the fire moon too, with Kili. He could have listened to him for days, describing the smallest and biggest of adventures.

Then the clock chimed midnight and the magical tales stopped abruptly.

“Oh shoot, I have to go!”

“What, now?!” Fili whirled them to gentle stop around the edge of the dance floor.

“Yes, right now! Mum will kill me if I don’t return with the – ah, carriage – on time!”

“The – what?!” Fili blinked. That sentence didn’t make any sense.

“I’m sorry!” Kili threw him a pleading look and took off back towards the entrance, promptly disappearing in the throng of other guests.

“Kili!” Fili tried to follow, but was hampered by all those who spotted that he was finally free to engage once more. By the time he’d made his excuses and got outside, all he could see was Kili at the very bottom of the staircase –

- Tripping over his own feet and very nearly face-planting into the gravel of the front drive.

Kili waved his arms about and, through sheer witchcraft it seemed, managed to find his balance once again. Something flew off his person and he stopped to search for it briefly, but whatever it was, from his position Fili saw that it wedged itself high in a nearby hedge and got stuck there.  

He tried to run down to help, but he was too far away.

Kili threw a few choice words in the general direction of the staircase, which would have impressed the Mountain’s mining community, turned on his heel and stomped away, somewhat unevenly.

Around Fili, who was only half way down the grand stairs at that point, a thousand brilliant fireworks exploded, making him duck automatically and try to take cover.

And somehow in that moment Fili just knew.

But Kili was gone. For several dreadful heartbeats Fili felt horribly alone, left with an array of princesses, all of them completely disqualified by the lack of the right laughing brown eyes.

And then he remembered that he had had a plan. A brilliant plan, which so far had been executed flawlessly.

Fili moved. He had a shoe to find.

---

Thorin rolled out of the grand banqueting hall as soon as he realised that he couldn’t see Fili and his lady dancing anywhere.

This proved to be a bit of a challenge, since the floor decided to resist him, what with the copious amounts of blue absinthe he had ingested during the course of the evening.

Thorin snarled. He was the King, damn it; he had people for just such things! He called for Dwalin and together with his best friend and a loyal companion of many other such battles, they defeated the evil forces of gravity just enough to make it outside after his nephew.

---

Fili sat on the stairs and stared.

The shoe was – there was really no other way to put it – a worn, falling-apart, slipper. It was stretched, discoloured and if he was honest with himself, it didn’t smell too good either.

He held it cautiously at arm’s length and debated his options.

In all fairness, Fili wasn’t paying enough attention to Kili’s feet to be able to identify if it was the same sort of footwear as he had been wearing right from the start. He was certain however, that the brunet left sans one of his shoes and the slipper happened to be the only shoe available.

Perhaps it held some sort of sentimental value, like a treasured family heirloom, to be worn only on special occasions, Fili tried to reason with himself, when his uncle and the Head of is Personal Guard both barrelled down the stairs towards him in a slightly life-threatening manner.

“Well, where’d she go?!” Fili’s King and uncle demanded.

“She?!” Granted, Kli’s beard hadn’t grown in properly yet, leaving him with an adorable stubble, which made Fili want to run his fingers all over it, but that was an uncalled for remark.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me now, it doesn’t suit you. Your lady! Dark blue dress with silver bits. Dark hair – we are taking that one, I hope you agree. Now, what was her name? We shall send for her within the week.”

Fili hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone being sent for on his account. Perhaps Kili didn’t want life in the palace at all. Perhaps he preferred his fire moons and the freedom that came with them.

“I don’t know. I didn’t catch it when she first arrived, and it seemed silly to ask for it later, when we danced” he lied smoothly, without batting an eyelid.

Thorin gaped.

Fili stood his ground, metaphorically. If he was going to marry the person he loved, he was going to do it because they loved him back and not on the orders of a King, damn it. Somehow. This was going to happen. He just needed to… aid his spell a little.

Thorin sat down heavily next to him on the stairs. “Do not fret, nephew. We will find her. At least we have this –“

He took the slipper from Fili’s hands and stared, mesmerised, at an exquisite, petite crystal pump which seemed to fracture the moonlight like a diamond.

Fili stared too, at a shoe which changed between one glance and another, and silently kicked himself for not having insisted on a proper contract when he’d had the chance. With a Sorceress no less!

He had no idea what the terms and conditions of this romance were.

---

Dis’ son arrived with the first rays of sunshine and missing one shoe. He looked exhausted.

“Well, how was it? Did you get to meet the Prince?” she issued a quick-fire round of questions.

Kili threw her a Look and in the warm, golden rays hitting his face at a low angle, he looked like nothing less than a King himself.

“Like I left a piece of me behind,” her son told her and slipped heavily off the wagon, throwing her the reins.

---

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

Writer Questionnaire ❦

Taking a break from writing to catch up on my tags writing 2 books at once is not for the weak 😭 so thank you @drchenquill for the tag as always!

- how long have you had your writing tumblr/writerblr? a fast and loose estimate is fine!

At least since April or early May!

- what lead you to create it?

I wanted to connect with other writers and creatives to make new friends!

- what's your favorite thing about the writer community?

My favorite part is the absolute powerhouse of creativity and innovation. You all have this incredible knack for coming up with unique ideas that never fail to inspire me. Plus, they're hilarious! Their sense of humor adds a delightful twist to everything we do, making even the wildest ideas feel approachable and fun. Honestly, being around such talent and laughter is a constant source of my motivation and joy!

- what’s one thing you'd like in mutual to know about you?

No notification I receive on this app goes unnoticed. I'll be at work, smiling because someone found my writing and enjoyed it! It means so much to me and only makes me want to write even more!

- is there anything you'd like to see more of on your dash?

I would love more collaboration and interaction in my messages. I am open to discussing and exchanging ideas with another writer. I’m particularly interested in co-creating a planetary system and bouncing creative ideas back and forth.

- which wips or writing projects are you noodling about lately

I'm currently working on fleshing out a novel titled Journals from The Whitmore Estate, which is a modern/historical fiction story. The novel explores the slave and civil war era, and also delves into our near future. It centers around the actions of a power-hungry ancestor who sought to shift power dynamics, and the resulting centuries of generational backlash.

- how long have you been working on them?

Its been about a few months, I had to take a break to give myself new perspectives and coming to a decision on who the main character was!

- do you remember what inspired them/what got you started

I was looking at writing prompts and came across one that said something along the lines of “Your character inherits a manor from a distant relative. Upon moving in, they discover what lies within its walls, answering why your family has been plagued by bad luck for as long as anyone can remember.”

- how much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

Wayyy too much! Now rhat I've found the main character, I can't put it down!

- when someone ask the dreaded "what do you write about?" question what do you usually say?

“I write whatever comes to mind!” Or “You can read my writings to find out.” 😗

- name any characters you created. Side characters, protagonist, antagonist, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

Kirjani is my favorite oc to date! Her chosen family: Rick, Raelin, and Lena. The three sisters from the Isles of Aurorith! Imani, Jade and Jasmine, the first ocs I ever created, they deserve their story to be told. (I’m working on it!!) My scrapped character folder is at about 60 something, but the one I just couldn't figure out completely was their grandmother Queen Amara, those who've followed me for a while probably remember her! She was just a bit too sinister and I tried to work around certain motivations and rationality kept getting in the way 🤣 I might use her for another story of mine I've been thinking about

- who’s the most unhinged?

I think it would be between Amara or Kirjani for sure. One of them is justifiably so, the other… not so much LOL

- who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Jules a gay sophmore in high school who is grieving the sudden loss of his mother (I haven't introduced him yet!) He's the first character I've ever based on myself or someone like me rather.

- do you ever cringe at them?

Oh yeah, that’s when I'm writing his best romantic scenes. Love, especially teen romance is supposed to be cringy and awkward at times. That's what makes it so!

- how much control do you feel you have over your characters? do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? to what degree? are some less cooperative than others?

They literally form their own lives that I just go with, its their world I’m just living in and writing it! I'm considerably outnumbered lmao

- do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? and do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? for example, as asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on ao3, etc.

More than words can express, that's why I love sharing my characters and their personalities. I want to open discussions on humanity and how the human condition can create dynamically and perplexing people!

- what makes you want to follow another writeblr account? do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? do you follow based on wips, or vibes?

I don't really have enough mutuals or followers, so I follow people based on their creativity and if they're on Writeblr. I don't have much discernment at the moment :)

- what makes you decide against following?

Just depends. I guess I haven't found a page I've ever said, “Oh no, can't follow that,” too.

- do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Not really, and if I follow you and you don't follow me back, I will give you 24 hours before I unfollow. We're all creatives here; no one is more creative than the next person, in my opinion.

This was so much fun to answer, I have so many more tags to do, but I’m not gonna stress ah finishing them all today 🥲 I have some short stories I wanna post as well from the weekend.

I tag @leahpardo-pa-potato, @slenders1ckn3ss, and @coffeewritesfiction. + open tag to any writer interested!

[rurpleplayssims]

📰Campbell Quay Update

I know I already wrote a post a few days about CQ, but I've been tempted to head back to the series with more inspiration than I did before. I have a load of screenshots that have been in my Drafts folder for the past year...and I'm fed up with looking at them there. I don't feel inspired to write the story text for them, but I do want to post them.

So, in the same tradition as my Skyrim fic, I will post the screenshots on their own to give the illusion of time passing in town, and you can fill in the blanks (even though it's been a year since the last post! 🤣)

There's not a massive amount but once they're posted, I will load my Sims 2 game and see where the inspiration takes me, if it comes to me. I'm hoping it does as I do miss writing this series.

UPDATE: The screenshots will be posted on Monday! (this is not an April Fool's joke, I promise!)

[blysse-and-blunder]

midweek commonplace book: the rough drafts

5pm, wednesday, june 28, 2023

it's been over a month since i drafted the following ilcb post, and here i am again, in the same coffee shop i was in back then, again avoiding working on a cover letter for a course instructorship position. in the intervening time, i a) got that job b) taught that whole class, c) took a weekend trip to see a friend get married, and d) am now applying for the next one! figured it was time to open the vault (my chaotic drafts folder) and let these musings see the light of day. maybe it's the key to my success.

edits and new text below in [brackets] to preserve the original draft's ~authenticity~. XD

in lieu of a commonplace book: may day

3pm sunday, april 30 -- 6pm sunday, may 7, 2023

it's rainy and there are so many flowers starting to emerge in the neighborhood, and i've been cozily reading escapist fantasy instead of writing my syllabus or facing the future head on.

reading since i last made one of these posts, i've finished reading the following: the golden enclaves by naomi novik (audio), the jasmine throne by tasha suri, the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid (audio), dial a for aunties by jesse sutanto (audio), and the tyrant baru cormorant by seth dickinson. this not being exclusively a book review series, unfortunately, we're just going to talk about the [left out the title but did include the picture so we know it was at the feet of the sun by victoria goddard!].

[i think i failed to actually write out my thought about this one because a number of people who follow me (@spoonierbard, @hematiterings) were either reading it or were about to start reading it, and i didn't want to color their experiences. i was also not entirely sure how i felt about it? i think i went in with expectations this time, which is a recipe for disappointment-- and i also had actual literary 'critique' thoughts primed and ready, as opposed to the pure vibes and pleasure with which i approached hote. overall-- and i say this as someone who reads and loves fan fiction-- it felt like reading fan fiction, ambitious, self-indulgent, big focus on relationships and feelings, and with a definite Point to Make. a behemoth of a book, and full of things to love--but less transcendent, for me, than its precursor. happy to expand on these feelings in a pm!]

listening

[i didn't write anything here, but i did include the two videos below. both were new to me this spring-- i never had a fallout boy phase in high school, please don't laugh, so it was very exciting to fall in love with first so much for stardust and then, at the recommendation of my housemate g, this track from folie a deux. 'disloyal order of water buffaloes']

[i think both of these songs are saying something about the mood i was in this spring-- yearning? defiant? a little pissed off? "hundred days" was a sptify recommendation, and fuck if they didn't get me in one. i have since investigated the duo behind the album a little and realized i have... possible thoughts, about their oeuvre, about making art out of their relationship, but this particular song unfortunately goes extremely hard for folk so i am compelled to love it! there's just something about the main melodic hook, the plaintive/desperate tone of some of the lyrics (especially 'i want / a hundred days / of bright light' each! time!), and the way there's so much going on in the arrangement at 2:34 ish-- i wish the rest of the album was as good as this one track. i want a hundred good days! of bright light! I do regularly think about things i'm trying or striving for and think "I want ! a hundred days !" of whatever it is. At least 100 days. there's something almost reminiscent of tiffany aching to this, for me-- using your selfishness/unvarnished wants to motivate you.]

watching taking a break from prestige tv!... with more prestige tv. started severance while my fellow succession and ted lasso-viewing housemate is out of the country. i love the stylization, the aesthetic, the eeriness! this is what i was hoping don't worry darling (2022) would be, in terms of combining a mid-century aesthetic with our main characters working for some enigmatic brain-washing Company or Project. Lumon better not be a simulation-- as i discovered back in january, i like it when there's some *there* there, when the conspiracy is actually as trippy as it seems, i understand that sometimes people want to write misdirection but man i am sad anytime something was all an illusion after all. also watched a bit of the first season of the gilded age and the first truly wild episode of mrs. davis with another housemate; there is no witty comparison or fun snappy one-liner i can come up with about these two.

[the above remains true-- i just watched a bit more severance yesterday! there was a massive cliffhanger just where i stopped, but the tone of the show is so Much that i actually was glad for the break. don't get me wrong-- i love how stylized it all is, still, i love the aesthetic and all the visual and verbal details that build up to mad-men-esque 60s office culture-horror, it's fantastic. getting that little extra moment with dichen lachman's character and hearing her talk about her experience was...gutting... but my favorite character continues to be devon.]

[playing]

[triumphant return to both dnd campaigns in the past week or so! it hasn't been entirely my fault that neither group met for most of the past six weeks, but i didn't help. campaign B had our one-year anniversary on sunday! one of the players went really overboard and commissioned a bunch of beautiful cards and badges and coins for us and our characters' little secret organization!! we broke the dm's screen door briefly and saw how big her baby has gotten!! we cried over @dimir-charmer's wedding dress! we successfully escaped the wild west!]

[making]

[didn't even draft this section. i thing i had just fixed...something, but who remembers what. pro cooking tip, leftover tortilla soup can become poor grad student shakshuka so easily. two eggs + in a pan + simmer = profit]

[working on]

[aforementioned cover letter for a course instructorship for next fall is due tomorrow. technically there are two i could be going for, both of which have definite pros and cons, but i'm pouring all this time and angst into one and just kinda forgot about the other? also i'm grading for two different classes, figuring out how to have sooo many tabs open at the same time and how to juggle spreadsheets+answer key+word+ pdf reader all at the same time. oh for the days of paper submissions, you know? last but not least, i am desultorily staring at the manuscript + outline for my conference paper for next month (less than a month now! fuck!) for like an hour a day, and making very little practical progress on it. so.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Here, have some content no one asked for!!

I got to looking through my old writing folder on my laptop, this is a short story I wrote quite a few years ago, in case anyone is interested in my original bullshit.

Horror with sci-fi elements. About 3.5k words.

No reason, just for the hell of it.

Harriet

Most residents in the lakeside mountain community of Harriet, New Hampshire, are amputees. That’s what my buddy Doug told me. This was at least a year after he initially told me he lost his legs in a car wreck when he was a kid, back when I still thought his name was Douglas J. Smith. You wouldn’t believe the shit he told me when he realized they were onto him up there. Hell, this is probably going to disappear pretty fast, too. Everything about Harriet goes up in flames sooner or later. From what I’ve heard about it, it wouldn’t surprise me if someone decided to send the town itself up in a blazing inferno one day.

Apparently the place has been quarantined for the past decade and a half, and security there is tight. I’m talking Area 51, Dugway Proving Ground tight. The airspace above it is restricted and you’re not going to find it just typing it in on Google Maps. If you’re lucky enough to find an old roadmap detailing the place, it’s not going to be in your possession for long. For all intents and purposes, Harriet, New Hampshire does not exist.

It’s not like you’d want to vacation there, anyway. Trust me.

Doug spent the last weeks I saw him gradually changing from the pretty chill double-amputee I had befriended in college a couple years earlier into some kind of paranoid freak. I tried to understand, I tried to be around for him, but he never wanted to tell me much. He told me he had been lying to me since he met me, that he had been lying to everyone. He went on to reveal that he didn’t transfer from a college up in New England, that I didn’t even know his real name. Of course, I ask him what the hell he’s on and why he isn’t sharing, but he wasn’t in the mood for joking by that point in time. He wasn’t in the mood for much of anything but locking himself away in his apartment and brooding.

The last time I heard from Doug, it was via email. I saved it to my email account and saved a copy to my external hard drive. The copy in my email account was gone when I checked it this morning, so it’s lucky I saved the back-up, because it may be the only written testament of Harriet, New Hampshire left in existence.

Some names and emails will be replaced or deleted for the sake of privacy.

#####

From: Doug <X@X.com> To: "X" <X@X.com> Sent: Saturday, April 27, 2012 5:05 AM Subject: [ no subject ]

X,

You’ve been a great friend the past couple years. That’s why you came to mind first. Maybe I’m actually damning you by telling you about this, but it wouldn’t feel right leaving you in the dark. I probably won’t be here after today. You won’t ever be able to find me again, and you sure as hell shouldn’t look for me.

This is about my hometown. My real hometown. Harriet, New Hampshire. I grew up there, lived there my whole life. In fact, I never once left the town, from the age of five until the year we met. Not because I didn’t want to, no, but because I couldn’t. No one who was there at the time of the incident could. The only ones who could were babies, X. Babies. If anyone in Harriet had a kid, they’d be taken and put in foster care somewhere else almost immediately, given new names and identities. They were drug babies, or their single mother died and the father couldn’t be found, or their parents died in some horrible accident. I know, because that was my job. I came up with new identities for these babies that were being taken away from friends and neighbors I had known my whole life. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think they were better off never having to know about Harriet. No one needs to know about that hell.

I need to back up. It started back in the nineties. I was only five, but I remember it. It was 1994, mid-July. I was outside with my dad, stargazing. He was telling me about the constellations when he came across a star in Orion that shouldn’t have been there.

Then the star darted to Ursa Minor, next to Canis Major. It moved like you would not believe, X. It wasn’t like a shooting star. It moved with deliberation, stopping and starting, turning angles no aircraft I’ve ever heard of could manage. This had to have gone on for five minutes, this little white dot in the sky just darting back and forth overhead. By the time we realized it was slowly getting bigger, it suddenly increased in size tenfold, and we could see it was not a single light but rather a collection of lights. There was one big light, right in the middle, and six more lights surrounding it. It was still small, and those were the only distinguishable details.

There was a flash of light in front of us, had to be a few miles off from where we were. It was just a flash, didn’t last for any more than a second, and when I looked up again the small collection of lights was gone from overhead. My dad and I were out in a field behind our house, pretty far off from the house itself, and he decided then that it was time to head back.

Almost as soon as I stood up, I was knocked back down by a burst of wind. My dad only barely managed to stay on his feet. It had to have been as strong as a small tornado. The wind dispersed quickly into a gentle breeze, and my dad picked me up and carried me quickly back toward the house. Of course, once we were inside and I was safe and sound in my room, I was asking him ten thousand questions about what had just happened. He just assured me that everything was fine and told me to get some sleep. I snuck out of my room later that night and heard him and my mom discussing what had happened, and knew that everything wasn’t fine. My dad was scared. My dad. When you’re five and you think your parents are invincible, that isn’t something that settles well. I snuck back to my room and spent all night staring at the ceiling, wondering, terrified.

That was back when you could still find Harriet, NH, on a roadmap, no problem. The government is probably still in the process of confiscating older roadmaps of NH and the states in general that list the place. Maybe they’ve got all of them. I don’t know. All I did for those assholes was rename babies. Even that was too much for me.

No one can really explain what happened in Harriet after that night. Maybe some of the government officials that rolled in afterwards could explain, but those tight-lipped bastards didn’t give a damn about us. My dad and I found out that we weren’t the only people in town that had witnessed that light show in the sky, that a barn not two miles from our house had been blown to pieces in the spot that microburst originated from. You don’t even want to know what happened to the animals they were keeping there. I’m just glad I never had to see the aftermath in person. Hearing about it was enough.

Not long after, we started seeing these stones around town. They were flat, almost round but angular, and black in color with white veins, usually a thick white vein running straight down the center, all the way through. They didn’t seem unnatural, just…pretty little rocks. They were great for skipping across the reservoir. Pretty soon they were scattered all over town, and they caught the interest of geologists in colleges around New England. They were the first to be affected, working so closely and deliberately with the stones. The ones who survived were relocated to Harriet after the military came in and quarantined us.

See, most of the residents of Harriet, NH from around that point in time are amputees. The majority of those who aren’t are dead. I’m not sure if you’d consider me one of the luckier ones or not.

My best guess is that the stones were markers, that they held some kind of tracking device. I don’t know the exact details. No one really seems to understand exactly what they were. But once they were activated—that is, once they stopped being these pretty little black marble stones and became something else—they wreaked havoc on us. Maybe something those geologists did set them off, maybe they were set off remotely once they were spread out through the entire town. Whatever the trigger was, you sure as hell didn’t want to touch a single one of them afterwards. It didn’t matter if it touched your clothes or your skin. You were marked as soon as you came in contact with one.

It was maybe a month after the lights in the sky, after we first started seeing the stones, when I stepped on one playing outside one day. I felt a sharp pain shoot up to my left shoulder. Always the left shoulder. It wasn’t unbearable, a little like getting a flu shot, like a small bug was biting you, but it just didn’t go away. You’d find yourself scratching at it for hours on end, but it wasn’t that bad, not bad enough to tell Mom and Dad about and waste a trip to the doctor over. I figured it was probably just a bug bite.

Then my dad started complaining about a little pinprick in his left shoulder. Then a couple of my friends, some of their parents. It went from being a mild annoyance to an epidemic of mild annoyances, but an epidemic of anything at all is enough to draw attention. Doctors couldn’t seem to find anything at all physically wrong, and nothing abnormal showed up on the brain scans. Whatever this was, it seemed to be purely psychological. A psychological epidemic of mild shoulder pain. Nobody knew what the hell was going on.

A week later, we found out.

Out of the six to seven thousand individuals that populated the town, around nine hundred were affected. Out of the nine hundred effected, following the night of July 27, 1994, about five hundred survived, all of them with some degree of handicap. My dad and I were both among this first batch. You’ve seen me. My dad only lost one limb, his right arm. We were lucky compared to some who lost internal organs, had partial lobotomies as they slept that night. Some of them actually survived. This shit, it wasn’t done by some psychopath with a hacksaw. You saw me. No scarring. I may as well not have even been born with legs. That’s how it was for everyone; you couldn’t even tell if there was an incision made to take out the organs by the time they woke up the next morning.

The military rolled in the next day and locked us down. No one could enter, no one could leave, and there wasn’t a single news report about it. There was the occasional independent journalist who caught wind of it, thought they’d get a good story out of it. I saw a few of them get gunned down.

And you know what? It kept fucking happening. It would happen in spells. For a little while after the stones were inert again, just harmless pretty little rocks lying around everywhere. The military picked up quite a few of them, but there just seemed to be one hundred more lying around for every one they found. Then they would activate again, the shoulder pains would start in a new group of people, and about a week later, the same thing. There were fewer victims each time, since everyone was deliberately avoiding the stones, and it seemed like those of us that had already been affected weren’t susceptible anymore; but it wasn’t stopping, by no means was it stopping, and the military wasn’t going anywhere.

They started sending off kids not long after the second wave hit. Kids who couldn’t talk yet, kids who wouldn’t be old enough to remember, kids who hadn’t already been affected. Of course, I wasn’t old enough yet at that time to be of any service to the military, so I had nothing to do with them. The second wave, I was six. It was actually a few years before the next wave, but the military never left, because we couldn’t be allowed to leave the town and spread the word or, God forbid, take any of the stones anywhere else.

It was slow, it went on for years. My mom, she was so careful to avoid the stones, and that kept her safe until I was in my early teens. She wasn’t as lucky as my dad and I were. Her autopsy showed that her brain and spinal cord were gone. Just fucking gone, no signs of how they were removed, just like all the others. And I swear to God, the night it happened, I heard something in the house. Footsteps. Moving quickly, moving with some unknown purpose, down the hall. I managed to get out of bed and hurry to my door, but I was out cold the second I opened it, before I could see anything. I woke up on my bedroom floor, my door still open. I know there was someone in the house that shouldn’t have been there. I don’t know who the fuck it was, whether it was the military or someone else, something else, but something was there.

It was a few years later that I was forced into helping with security measures. Pretty much everybody of age and of sound enough mind was. They found out I had a creative streak, so they set me to writing new identities for children born in the town, so they could be sent off to orphanages and foster care with no questions asked. I hated it. I hated myself for it, friends and neighbors understood the position I was in but I knew they still resented me. They were trying to make us go extinct, getting rid of the youth and letting only the older remain and die there.

It went on for five years before I couldn’t take any more of it. It was either get the hell out of Harriet or die trying. I couldn’t bear to live in that place for any longer. I couldn’t take being their dog.

A few, very few people were allowed out of town in supply trucks, with military accompaniment. My dad was one of them. He had been in the military before I was born, navy, and he was well-trusted. He took that trust very much to heart and it took me a long time to convince him. It wasn’t until I gave him an ultimatum that he agreed to do anything, that I threatened to storm the perimeter with stolen weapons and either escape or die trying if he wasn’t willing to help me. I was desperate to get out of Harriet, even if it was in a body bag.

As it was, I wasn’t the only one that escaped. My dad got out and we decided to separate after the fact to make it harder on the field agents they deployed to find us; and there were a handful of people we gathered in secret as guerilla soldiers, who rode in the back of the truck. It took months of planning in the dark, in the basements and attics of a few different houses of a few of our makeshift militia. It was a stroke of luck that none of them panicked and reported our activities to the military, or a stroke of genius on my dad’s part. He chose everyone, and I guess having lived in Harriet his whole life he knew who was made of tough enough stuff to handle it. It was difficult, but it was manageable in the long run. We kept track of who worked what shift, who would be easiest to take out quietly and swipe weapons. My dad decided we would leave at midday in December, just before a storm was going to hit to make it harder on them to track us. It might be more difficult for us to get out, but he took the risk and it worked. He stole a uniform for me and we stuffed the pant legs and stuck boots in the bottom while I was sitting in the passenger seat; everyone else hid in the back, behind a row of supply boxes.

It went off without a hitch. When we were checked out they waved my dad on through and we drove out. We were supposed to drive five miles down the road and turn right, due north, toward a nearby army base, where supplies were waiting for us. There were two soldiers at the checkpoint. One came to my dad’s window, one to my window. He gunned his down like it was nothing, and I was sincerely afraid of him for one moment in my life. When I hesitated, Dad gunned down the soldier now reaching for his sidearm in a panic at my window, pushing me back against my seat with the long barrel of the rifle. He got out of the truck, put an extra bullet in each of their skulls just to be safe, got back in, and put the car in drive, turning silently to the left, due south.

We didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves by riding into town with a military supply truck, so we ditched it near the next town, a small city called Jasper, and we all parted ways there. That was the last time I ever saw my father or any of my neighbors from Harriet, and I always hoped it would remain that way. I guess it did after all. I guess that’s for the best. It means when they come and get me, it’ll only be me. I’m not putting any of them in danger. I know I’m probably putting you in danger right now. You need to hide, as soon as you read this, because it’s not worth trying to spread the word. Anyone who knows about Harriet is probably going to be doomed.

Someone’s knocking. I’ve got to wrap this up. If you’re going to stay out of this, you need to leave town. You were talking about leaving anyway since we’ve just graduated, so do it. Leave town. Change your name. Lose contact with everyone you know here. And for fuck’s sake, don’t you dare come looking for me.

Have a nice life,

James Douglas McMurray

#####

I didn’t heed his warning. I grabbed my laptop and ran two blocks to his apartment after I got his email and found the door hanging open, I found everything in disarray, I found his fucking wheelchair overturned in front of his computer desk and his computer smashed.

When I came back to my own apartment, it was completely trashed. They had been there. They were looking for me. I grabbed a couple bags of clothes and other essentials and found a cheap motel with wireless internet. That’s where I am right now. I don’t care if they know at this point. I want them to know where I am, because I’m going to fuck them over.

See, I disagree with Doug. I don’t think this is something that needs to be kept quiet, I think the word needs to be spread. If everyone knows it…well, the government can’t kidnap everyone, can they? I’m posting this on every forum I can find before they find me and I hope everyone who reads it will repost it. Everyone needs to know about Harriet. Doug was a great guy, best guy I knew, and the best way I can think of to immortalize him is to spread the word. Tell everyone you know about Harriet, New Hampshire. I’m doomed, I know that, but if this spreads like I hope it will then no one else will have to be, not ever again.

I want you to let these bastards know that we mean business. I want them to know that Harriet isn’t their dirty little secret anymore, that the world knows what they’ve been doing to these people. I want them to know that they have lost.

I hear knocking. I guess I only have time to post this here before I have to go greet them.

Spread the word, and remember Harriet. Remember Doug.

[flareflarerp]

Are you looking to be a writer or an actor?

(Sorry for the late & long answer Silvy I passed out last night after watching a movie with my girlfriend. I also apologize for my outburst I woke up from a nap and didn't let my logic brain take over.) Eventually.....Yes! I know others have the right to their own opinions but I can't let that rip away my dreams of achieving my goals I've been working since '15. I actually have a lot (like 10-15) of scripts in which a couple of them are MLP action movies that I would like to be in motion capture which is one of my favorite type of acting to see and would love to do (If they can turn doctor strange into a dragon in the hobbit, we definitely have the technology to make motion capture MLP). I've backlogged them because I lost interest for the last seven years to write anything. I go back to them every once in a while to show how shitty of a writer and amateur I was before college. I've even done acting for a while as well. Mostly stage acting back in middle school where I did Shakespeare (Othello, Hamlet, & yes Romeo & Juliet) and college (I got to do a scene from a good play called 'Red' where I got to show off my acting skills in front of people not even familiar or interested in acting and I raised a few eyebrows indeed. Yes a lot of movies seem lack of creativity but there are a lot of them that do like a movie that me and my partner @noxs-mun watched last night which was 'Nimona' which was the best. I'm not gonna say nothing. This is one that you will have to watch yourself. Now, I have been on a professional movie set back in May, it was a horror feature length film called, 'Skinwalkers' and in which I was brought on as a Camera Production Assistant and where I met my new best friend Gene Sung (the Director of Photography) and I was promoted to 2nd Assistant Cameraman now I am a Assistant Cameraman they are both different job roles. 1st A.C. works closely to the D.P. and does all the focus pulling to make sure the shot isn't too blurry and it's very sharp (unless the shot require it to be blurry). At the end of the shoot day (depends on the set and director and how they want each day to go which is the Assistant Director's job. They come up with a schedule each night to say what shots need to be done each day and some days go from 10-19 hours) the assistant cameraman what we call 'media dump' onto a laptop or PC and save it in a folder along our shooting process. I just wanted to added that last part to kind of teach you about some of the behind the scenes work on what happens on a professional set in movies. The process is similar in television but they work on multiple episodes instead of a long movie. I agree to your point yes movies are getting longer and longer but for some of my scripts I kind of need that amount of time to put more into my stories. I'd love to discuss more of this with you and have a nice conversation about movies cause we share a lot of movies we like in our long friendship going on almost 10 years (as of April 14th of next year) Ghostbusters 1&2 (Fuck 2016 one. Haven't seen Afterlife yet) Mad Max (All of them. I just love all of them) if your laptop ever decides not to fuck up I am on discord in which I hold movie nights with my girlfriend every Friday. We're clearing our backlogs right now and watching something new as well. Love ya Silvy, ~Flare Flare

[macgyvertape]

I spent the weekend going through and backing up data to my server which included the long overdue task of downloading fanfic that I wanted to save that I had read over the past 3 years. I should have done it sooner because there was a fair amount that have been deleted or moved to a hidden collection. I intend to automate this process in the future, especially for fics that are in progress and then are deleted before they are ever completed.

Searching through this blog I recorded in April 2018 that "earliest fanfic I have goes back to 2008 ... w/ 2,045 Files, 93 Folders". Slight correction that I found a really old BTVS crossover dating to 2007.

As of Feb 2023 I have 3,370 files. About a hundred of the files aren't individual stories but chapters saved individually of now deleted fics before I started using FanFictionDownloader. Raid6 organized storage hates lots of small files so I've gone through and redownloaded all the stories I could from chapters into a compiled work, so the actual number of new stories added is probably larger.

My folder organization has changed a lot since so it's separated into 102 Fandom Folders, 15 Author folders (for those who write a lot across different fandoms), and a mostly unorganized Crossovers folder.

My top 5 fandoms by size were: DC, Transformers, Marvel, RvB, Warhammer 40k; top 10 by number of files: Warhammer 40k, DC, RvB, Destiny, Star Wars, Marvel, Transformers, Fallout, Naruto, Star Trek. 40k is definitely an outlier, because there's a lot of meta analysis posts included and pdf versions of tumblr pages where the css doesn't save well. That RvB, Destiny, and Fallout rank up there with other juggernaut fandoms really speaks to my small-to-medium fandom bias where I read a lot more shorter works by more authors that would normally get overshadowed in bigger fandoms.

Reading through the earlier stuff I saved, a lot of the fics haven't aged well; bad writing, super cliched plots, flat characters. Fics that I wouldn't finish reading now, let alone save; but aside from deleting a few, I'm glad to have this record of what I used to like. It's a lot easier with fanfic than the bad pulp novels I sold to the 2nd hand bookstore because physical books take up a lot more space.

[giigil]

how did you start to write? kinda curious to know your trajectory

story time! (really happy you asked, hehe.) note: if anyone's interested in going through my past writings, let me know and i'll probably make a google drive folder lol.

I've been addicted to gaming ever since I was younger and I've always had hyperfixations that would come and go. Middle school was when I realized I had a love for reading books (mainly young adult, romance, fiction + manga) and I used to always spend my time in the school library during my lunch breaks.

2012: I was 13 and almost graduated from middle school. I adored Zelda/Link as a ship so much that I Googled 'Zelda x Link' to look for cute art, only to stumble across a website: Fanfiction.net. Yep. That site.

I read through a couple of stories and found myself hooked. I made an account, and I decided to start writing my own stories.

Super Smash Brothers Brawl had a huge impact on my life and holds a special place in my heart. It was all I'd ever written and thought about when I first started.

( putting a read more to elaborate further on my writing journey. )

Around 2013, though, someone put a wrench on my Fanfiction.net journey by reporting my story -- it wasn't anything horrible, it was just a cringe Truth or Dare fanfiction that someone and their group said was "against" Fanfiction.net rules. That story got deleted, and out of impulse and feeling depressed, I deleted every single fanfiction I'd ever posted on my account.

I deeply regret doing so, because there were so many ideas that I can't look back on because my memory isn't able to recall a whole lot of them.

At least a few weeks after, though, I got onto Tumblr and got into Tumblr roleplaying! Fairy Tail was my next huge fixation and I made a roleplay blog focused on Edo-Cana from the Edolas arc (after I spoke with an Edo-Lucy blog). After I lost my inspiration for Edo-Cana, I moved on to Evergreen, and then Lucy Heartfilia.

I believe I lost interest in roleplaying on Tumblr around 2014.

2014: I was still writing on Fanfiction.net, but as usual, I would delete my fics when they didn't satisfy me. I wrote for a couple of other fandoms ranging from Big Hero Six, Rise of the Guardians/Young Justice, and more. I'd also joined websites like Quotev and Wattpad.

2015: In my junior year of high school, I made a friend who also had an interest in roleplaying. She introduced me to this one roleplaying website which allowed me to continue with writing.

However, as you can probably see, I have the absolutely terrible habit of losing interest in things quickly. I ended up quitting roleplaying due to that.

I also joined Archiveofourown. I don't remember if I'd ever posted anything around the time of joining. This is the one year I don't remember much for.

I also continued to post on Fanfiction.net:

As per usual, it lasted for *almost* a year.

November 10th, 2016 was the last time I ever posted on my Fanfiction.net account.

I had a dry spell when it came to writing for a good year and a half from 2016-2017.

April 21 2017: I played Final Fantasy XV and (it's what I hyperfixated on for a good 2 years). Around April 27-28, I already had a hankering for wanting to write fanfiction for it. I have so many ideas that haven't seen the light of day, and probably never will.

There's so many drafts, mostly unfinished, just sitting in my Google Drive.

August 2018: I posted a Prompto Argentum x Reader fic on archiveofourown, but eventually orphaned it and everything else I had posted.

October 2018: My hyperfixation for Red Dead Redemption 2 started. I thought up of ideas, plotlines, etc.

February 2019: I posted 3 Arthur Morgan x Reader fics. Which, you can probably already guess what the fuck happened to those. *orphaned. woooow.*

March 2019: I swore off writing anything else for my old Fanfiction.net account, and have left all of my fanfiction saved there.

2020-2021: Once more, I stopped writing and focused on trying to get through day by day life considering it was the COVID outbreak and I was only ever working. I never stopped reading fanfiction though. It's what's kept my writing decent -- at least, that's what I feel like. 2020 was when my hyperfixation on Final Fantasy 7/Remake started. I would think up of things.

March 23, 2022: (Not a writing thing, but I like to make note of it.) The start of my hyperfixation on Jujutsu Kaisen and Gojo!

December 2022: I finally posted a fic after so long. Haven't deleted it, and I swear I won't.

January 2023: Wrote my first ever M rated fic for Nero the Sable from Final Fantasy 7 Remake x Reader, and told myself I'd go back to writing. I haven't posted anything else on AO3 since then.

August 11, 2023: I learned of and created an account on character.ai!

September 18, 2023: I started making character.ai bots!

TL;DR:

As you can see, I'm an inconsistent person and have occasional moments of inspiration and eventually get tired of things. There will be times when I need a break from writing, so I apologize if it takes me a bit to get through all of my requests.

[nenekiribookwyrm]

April 2023 Update!

Happy end of the month! I've got quite a bit of news to share so let's get into it.

I finished my project for the Werewolf Jam and I'm pretty pleased with how May The Hunt Be Everlasting and May Nature Guide You Home turned out. I think I did something neat within the time frame of the jam and I got a chance to jump back into Twine development after many years away. I also used public domain art and some creative edits in GIMP to make the cover art for the game. I didn't have quite enough time to draw or paint an image like I wanted to, so I felt like this was a good compromise. If you're interested in playing the game yourself, it's available for free and runs in your browser over at: https://nenekiri.itch.io/may-the-hunt-be-everlasting-and-may-nature-guide-you-home

The voting period for the Werewolf jam runs until May 6th, so if you have the time I'd appreciate a review and what you thought about the game!

I was lucky enough to have a poem of mine featured on the Voice of Dog this month for National Poetry Month and it turned out really good! This piece of writing is a really personal one to me and I'm glad that Rob let me read it for the podcast this month. If you'd like to listen to it you can do so here: https://thevoice.dog/episode/forest-by-nenekiri-bookwyrm

There's going to be a few more of my poems planned to be read out on the podcast at a later date, so I made a poem section for the website. If you'd like to get a sneak peek of what could be featured you can read my poetry in my collection I have on my SoFurry page: https://www.sofurry.com/browse/folder/stories?by=520851&folder=66067

I've sent in my author bio for the Post-Self short story anthology titled Clade and gotten word that Madison is targeting a summer time release. So get excited for that later in the year! I wrote my bio in-universe and I really like how it turned out. Since the story focuses on more human characters rather than the usual furry animals, I opted to use my human name. Don't cast any binding spells on me with that deep knowledge! It's also a bit of an experiment to see how using that name works out. If I end up writing more fiction that deals with humans primarily over animals, I may end up using that name for those kinds of stories in the future. Would be an easy way to let potential readers who are familiar with my work engage with the kinds of stories they're looking for.

I've started working on a new big project! Until I hear back about the short story anthology with dragons, I'm kind of at an impasse with working on that for the time being. So I'm switching gears for a while and I'm going to try and write a story featuring butterflies. I was very much into butterflies as a kid, but haven't found a good angle to write a story about them now that I've fallen into furry writing. This project is an attempt to do that. The basic premise is that I'll be following a group of butterflies as they perform their annual migration from one side of the world to the other. This migration can take a very long time, depending on the butterflies you're looking at, it can anywhere from 3-6 generations to make that trip. I think this is the angle I've been looking for. What would it be like to be a butterfly on this journey knowing that you will never see the destination that you're traveling towards? How do they get through their day to day? What hardships do they face in their travels? All of these questions excite me terribly and I'm itching to get started writing.

But before I fully commit, I want to do some preliminary research. This is going to be a lot bigger of a project than I'm used to. Depending on how I end up tackling it, it could very well end up being novel length. And if not that, at least the length of a novella. Which means I should get a decent baseline of information on butterflies before I get too far into the weeds in writing a bunch of characters for the story.

Thankfully, my local library had a ton of books on the subject and I'm working on reading through a bunch and taking copious notes. One of the books, The Language of Butterflies has had a very interesting first couple chapters. There seems to be a concerning amount of butterfly researchers who had some sort of experience when they were growing up that led to them spending their lives studying them. In an obsessive fashion. The author makes references to this phenomenon as a kind of “Butterfly Madness” (I am paraphrasing, she doesn’t actually call it that) and I’ll be honest that it gave me pause as I was reading through the first few chapters, lest I fall into this pattern myself. I was enamored with them a lot when I was a kid, so maybe I’m immune? Or was it a long dormant madness waiting to re-emerge at the correctly precise trigger? This is the closest I have come to actually experiencing the unease that is supposed to be common in cosmic horror. Perhaps, I too, will become an acolyte of Prodryas before long.

Speaking of the library, they had a big book sale this weekend and I picked up a good few books that I'm excited to dig into at some point. The Dragon's Luck book is probably the one I'll dig into first, but the animal anatomy and painting with acrylic book are going to be invaluable for me to practice painting more.

Work has unfortunately been very busy as they shift my job duties around. I don't see it slowing down any time soon unfortunately, so I'm hoping to stave off burnout for the time being with being able to work on my personal projects in my free time.

On a brighter note to end out this update post, the weather has been good enough to take walks again and I've really missed being able to do that.

That's about everything I have for this month. Hoping that the next month treats you well!

[wren-of-the-woods]

Publicity Pandemonium

Jaskier, a musician with a quickly-growing fanbase, is asked to do an interview before his newest album is released. To his surprise, he is also asked about his relationship with Geralt Rivia, an actor whose connections to Jaskier have recently been subject to great speculation on the internet -- speculation that may be closer to the truth than anyone expects.

Geraskier, rated G, 2k words. Also on AO3!

---

"Hello! I am Howard Fredrickson, BBC. Today we’ll be speaking to the quickly-rising star among pop musicians: Jaskier Pankratz."

The interview, which is being held over zoom and will be posted to Youtube later, has been a topic of excitement among fans for the past week. Hundreds of people will doubtless watch it the moment it comes out.

Jaskier adjusts his mic slightly, looking perfectly comfortable with the virtual setting. His hair is a bit messy, as always, but he is wearing a formal shirt and has his usual charming grin on his face. Unlike Howard Fredrickson, who has a pristine white behind him with a cardboard BBC logo perched on his desk, Jaskier is clearly in his house. Visible behind him is a large, slightly chaotic bookshelf covered with everything from classic literature to paperback thrillers in German, along with a side table holding a lamp, a potted plant, and a ukulele.

"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to be with us today, Jaskier," says Howard.

"It's my pleasure!" says Jaskier with a grin. "I've always wanted to do something like this, even if things" — he gestures wryly at his camera and headphones — "Are a bit different than I expected."

The interviewer chuckles. "'Different' is putting it lightly. How have you been doing with the lockdown?"

"Pretty well, actually," says Jaskier. "It's been hard not being able to play with the band in person, but we've kept in touch virtually. I'm kind of enjoying the break from everything. I've been organizing my house, though as you can see, it still needs some work." He gestures at the bookshelf behind him with a chuckle.

Howard Fredrickson laughs. "You seem to have quite the collection there."

"Yeah, no kidding." Jaskier twists to look behind him at the shelf. "I don't even remember where I got half that stuff. I'm always picking up books. I'd say it's a problem, but I guess it's come in handy with the libraries being closed."

"Do you spend a lot of time reading?"

"Oh, definitely. The only problem is finding the time, what with life being what it is. Again, the lockdown has been helpful with that." Jaskier chuckles again.

The interviewer nods. "Many people find literary references in your music. Should they take this as confirmation of their theories?"

"They absolutely should. There are a lot of references and easter eggs hidden in there, but I won't give them away!" Jaskier winks.

Fredrickson nods with a smile. "So, speaking of fans, your corner of the internet is going wild with speculation about the hints you've dropped for your latest album, debuting in less than a week now. Anything you can tell us?"

"Well, I don't know how much Essi and the gang are comfortable with me giving away." Jaskier leans in toward the camera for a conspiratorial whisper. "I forgot to ask them. Don't tell."

Fredrickson chuckles.

"Oh sure, laugh about it. You're not the one who has to face Essi's rage later," Jaskier says with mock-indignance. "But anyway, I think it's safe to say that we're very excited to show it to everyone."

Fredrickson nods. "I'm certainly excited to hear them. So, I take it you're looking forward to the album’s release?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, actually I'm absolutely terrified, but yes." He and Fredrickson both laugh.

"In all seriousness, though, I can't wait to be able to talk about it. Some of the songs have a very personal tone, and I'm quite proud of all of them. It should be fun. Hopefully. Unless they're all shit and we're just deluding ourselves, but that's unlikely." Jaskier chuckles a little nervously. "It's always nerve-wracking to show my work to the public for the first time, but it should be good."

Fredrickson nods again. He seems to do that a lot. "I'm sure it'll be wonderful, if what we know is anything to go by. Your fans are certainly excited."

Jaskier nods with a grin. "I know! It's absolutely incredible. I never expected to get a fanbase like this, but I am so, so grateful for all you wonderful folks out there. I just hope we live up to your expectations!"

"I'm sure you will," says Fredrickson. "Oh, and speaking of internet fanbases," — Fredrickson smiles conspiratorially — "I don't know if you know, but the new album isn't the only reason people are talking about you on the internet."

Jaskier tilts his head curiously, almost like a bird. "Go on."

"There's been a lot of interest in your relationship with a certain actor who's very popular right now. And so, since this is such a big topic right now, we thought we might invite a special guest onto our meeting."

Jaskier sits up, eyes going wide with surprise.

"Virtual ladies and gentlemen," says Fredrickson with a grin, "Please welcome our surprise guest, Geralt Rivia!"

A prerecorded tune plays as another screen pops on to the zoom meeting. Geralt Rivia, handsome as always, looks like he can't decide whether to be awkward or pleased. He is obviously more uncomfortable with the virtual setting than Jaskier is, adjusting his headset and squinting at the screen for a moment before sitting back. His background is much more organized than Jaskier's. The wall behind him is painted pale green, and a corner of a window peeks into the edge of his screen. A potted plant, similar to Jaskier's, is visible on his otherwise-neat and empty desk.

"Geralt!" says Jaskier, obviously surprised. "Wow, okay. Hi!" A quick series of emotions pass across the musician's face before he settles on a startled smile.

"Hello," says Geralt, a small and rather mischievous smile playing around his lips.

"I didn't know you were coming!"

Geralt raises an eyebrow. "That is the point of a surprise, yes."

Jaskier rolls his eyes but can't quite suppress a smile. "Oh, shut up."

"Good to see you, too."

Jaskier laughs.

Fredrickson looks amused. "I take it you two do know each other?"

"We've met," says Geralt.

Jaskier nods. "So, why is Geralt Rivia crashing my interview again?"

“To discuss the rumors that have lately been making their way around the internet,” says Fredrickson with a smile. “Rumors about you and Geralt.”

Jaskier tilts his head again. "Okay, go on."

“People have spent a lot of time speculating about the relationship between the two of you, lately. Have you noticed?”

"I've been avoiding social media lately, for the most part. Geralt?"

"I'm terrible at the internet."

"Okay, neither of us know. Enlighten us."

"It started about a month and a half ago," says Fredrickson in what appears to be a prepared speech. "Geralt stated in an interview that you were one of his favorite musicians, and shortly afterwards, you said that he was one of your favorite actors. Then there were rumors that you would be composing a song for the credits of his next film. Now there’s a growing group of people who are

“They ship us?” asks Jaskier.

“Essentially, yes,” says Fredrickson.

Geralt nods. "Makes sense."

"Wait a second," says Jaskier, "Are we talking 'people discussing it on the internet' level of shipping, or are we talking 'actual fanart and fanfiction' level of shipping?" He looks excited.

"It started as the former," says Fredrickson, "But has lately become the latter."

Jaskier sits up in his chair, eyes wide. "There's fanfiction about me?"

Fredrickson nods.

"Oh my god, I have got to see this," gasps Jaskier. He reaches somewhere behind the camera and grabs his phone, types something quickly, and presses a few things. His face lights up. "Fifty-three works? Really?"

Geralt looks amused. "You seem very excited by this."

"I am!" Jaskier shouts, not looking up from his phone. "I know you actors get fanfiction about your characters and yourselves and stuff, but I never thought there'd be fics about me! This is great!"

"So you don't mind people writing about you?" asks Fredrickson.

"Well, I won't deny that it feels a bit weird, but that's just an occupational hazard at this point. The bigger thing is that I've inspired people to create! As long as they're polite and just having a good time, I am one hundred percent okay with this."

"And you don't mind people shipping you with Geralt?" asks Fredrickson.

"Definitely not," says Jaskier with a small smirk. He scrolls further, then glances up at the camera again. "I keep seeing tags referencing a window. What does that mean? Is it a movie you were in, Geralt?"

Fredrickson shakes his head. "It probably has to do with an actual window. When the lockdown hit and we all stayed at home, your mutual fans started to think they saw similarities between things like your schedule and your houses' interiors. One person pointed out that you had what looked like the same view out your windows. Another thought you had the same type of furniture. Another thought you had similar potted plants. They were little things, but people started going wild with speculation."

Jaskier starts, finally looking up from his phone. "Oh. Wow." His face is unreadable. "I had no idea people look that closely at things." He laughs. It sounds slightly awkward.

Geralt sits up in his chair, a small smile playing around his lips. "The potted plants? Really?"

Fredrickson nods. "Like the ones you have on camera right now, actually. Do they have the same kind of pot?" He squints at his screen.

Geralt sighs, not quite able to suppress his smile. "I guess the game's up, Jask."

Fredrickson blinks. "What?"

Geralt, ignoring him, picks up his laptop and starts to walk across his house. There is a slightly dizzying view of walls, windows, and furniture passing by behind him as he moves.

Jaskier's eyes widen. "Geralt, what are you doing?"

Geralt smirks. "You said you wanted to tell people soon. Here's some drama for you."

Fredrickson sits up in his chair. Jaskier looks offscreen to his left. Geralt shifts to hold his laptop in one hand and reaches to open a door with the other.

The sound of the door creaking can be heard through both Jaskier's and Geralt's screens. Geralt steps into the room, shuts the door behind him, and tilts his camera to show Jaskier's chaotic room, with Jaskier sitting at a desk behind a laptop. He's trying to glare at Geralt, but the effect is slightly ruined by the fact that he's barely stifling a grin. Geralt’s smirk widens into a real, fond smile.

Geralt walks over to him, maneuvering across Jaskier's cluttered floor, and sets his laptop next to Jaskier's on the desk. The two cameras provide a double view as Geralt gently moves the mic out of Jaskier's face, leans forward, and kisses him on the lips.

They break away after only a moment, both grinning. Jaskier scoots over, pulls Geralt to sit squished next to him on the chair, and they both readjust their headsets.

Fredrickson stares at them, momentarily speechless.

"It turns out that some people on the internet are very smart." Geralt looks far too happy with himself.

Jaskier shoves him playfully in the shoulder. "You had this all planned out, didn't you? Show up to my interview, actually, wait for someone to bring up fan theories, and then do this. And claim I’m the dramatic one in this relationship!”

Geralt smirks. "You must be rubbing off on me. And I didn't have this planned, exactly. I just thought it might happen."

"You could have at least warned me you were coming! You said you had a meeting!" Jaskier's attempt at sounding angry would have been more successful if he weren’t smiling.

"I do. With you."

Jaskier shoves him again, then turns to face the camera. "As you can see, the internet has it right. We're together. Um. Surprise?"

Fredrickson blinks, flabbergasted. "Wow."

Jaskier laughs. "We just ruined your plan for this, didn't we?"

Fredrickson laughs too, a little disbelievingly. "Most definitely."

"Sorry about that! It's all Geralt's fault."

"Sorry," says Geralt. He does not look at all sorry.

"No need to apologize. This is the most interesting day I've had for a while." Fredrickson laughs again. "So how long have you two been together?"

Jaskier glances at Geralt. "It depends."

"About six months," says Geralt.

"Or approximately twelve years," says Jaskier. "It's a matter of perspective."

"He said 'together,'" says Geralt. "That means 'in a relationship.' We've been dating for six months."

"But we've been best friends secretly pining after each other for essentially as long as we've known each other. Which is approximately twelve years now."

"Maybe you were pining from the beginning. I took a few years to warm up to you. You're annoying."

Jaskier pokes him. "But you love me!" he chirps.

Geralt smiles. "But I love you."

Jaskier leans his head against Geralt’s shoulder and smiles at the camera.

“I think we’ve given you more than enough gossip for today,” says Jaskier to Fredrickson, still smiling. “Not to mention completely ruining your script. How about we call it a day?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” says Fredrickson

“Until later, then,” says Jaskier. He winks at the camera, and Geralt turns to kiss his cheek. Jaskier laughs, reaches toward his computer, and prepares to leave the meeting as Geralt does the same from his laptop.

The last thing the video catches is an image of the two of them sitting side by side, Geralt’s arm wrapped around Jaskier’s shoulders, both grinning widely.

“Adieu,” says Jaskier with a laugh, and he and Geralt leave the meeting.

[minniesmelody]

I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if they still were because I have an idea for Eddie. So reader and eddie have been friends for a couple months since reader moved to Hawkins in the winter. so obviously wearing lots of layers and stuff. But come late spring/early summer it's shorts and tank top season. This leads Eddie to seeing all their tattoos and being super awestruck and just a little jealous. I think it would be kinda cute. Like two full sleeves, one whole leg, one massive rib piece, and working on a back piece. Kinda like what I got going 😊

April weather

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Summary: The winters are cold in Hawkins, meaning lots of sweaters, hoodies, and sweat pants will be worn. But that also means lots of skin will not be shown, also meaning you're newly best friend has zero idea of what is inked into you're skin underneath the clothes.

Genre: Fluff

POV: First person- Y/N

Warnings: a few cuss words, tattoos? I know some people are against tattoos for their own personal reasons so i'm just gonna put it as a warning even though it's pretty much the whole plot.

A/n: i'm obsessed with this request! I've been thinking about tattoos a lot lately so this request came at the perfect moment! I have already decided that i want a handful or two of tattoos. I love that you kinda based it off yourself too, i bet you're tattoos look amazing! Thank you sm for requesting my love! Hugs and kisses - Minnie x

April, the start of spring. The perfect season for weather, not too hot, not too cold, just the weather, other than it raining most days of the week.

Ever since i moved to Hawkins in December, it's been nothing snowy and chilly. Weather that requires long sleeve shirts and heavy sweaters, clothes that cover most skin.

Speaking of Hawkins, It fucking sucks here.

Not everything sucks, but most of it does.

One of the very few things that didn't suck was i met one of my best friends here. The trailer park freak, Eddie Munson. He was one of the very few people to actually understand me in this town. Or any place i've ever lived if i'm being completely honest here. He was one year older than me, me starting school late and him failing and having to repeat his senior year twice now, him currently in his third attempt in graduating. But ever since my first day at Hawkins high, he has been there for me, and i have been there for him.

We would hang out every weekend together, sometimes we would go out and go to the drive in or something, and other times we would just stay at his beat up trailer that he shared with his uncle and watch a movie there or just do whatever in the moment we felt like doing, even if it was just sitting in each others presence, we always did something.

Which lead us here, me walking into his trailer, the first Saturday of some semi-what warmish weather.

I didn't even knock, Eddie knows when i come over so usually he keeps the door unlocked for me, easy access for me to just let myself in, the door is always open for me.

I didn't see Eddie sitting in the living room, looking over down the hallway of the trailer was the door to Eddies bedroom, slightly cracked open, like usual i started walking towards his bedroom.

"oh Eddie!" i said as I opened the door a bit more and walked inside.

His bedroom, a mess like usual, cassettes placed everywhere, and of course Eddie, sitting on his bed, dnd folder open, writing down different ideas for the next Hellfire campaign.

He went to look back me and like usually, give me a nice welcome, but this time, it's like he....froze?

He just stared at me, his face unreadable.

"Um- Eds? You alright there?" i asked

"I- uh-"

"Hello? Earth to Eddie" i said, snapping my fingers in front of his face, breaking him out of whatever planet his just went to.

"Uh yeah- sorry it's just...i never knew you had uh...tattoos"

Shit, it had totally slipped my mind that Eddie had never seen my tattoos, let alone just hear or have any knowledge that i have any in the first place.

Most of my tattoos, currently on display for eyes to see since the weather became suddenly warmer, meaning i was in a tank top and shorts, also meaning my arms and legs were free to the eye.

"oh yeah, um- surprise?" i said with a small smile.

"you got more than i do, can i have a closer look?" He asked, a look of plea and hope in his eyes.

"sure, i don't mind Eds" i said as i sat down on his bed with him, he quickly took my arm and started examining all the art work inked into my skin.

"Who did all these? they all look fucking amazing"

"lots of different tattoo artists, some i did myself, and there a few that some random people at this frat party did"

He looked back up at me and raised his left eyebrow "You did some of these yourself?"

i nodded my head "Yup, i have a tattoo gun back at my house, i usually do easy designs on myself, you know? Let the pro's do the hard ones" i said, giggling at my words, him laughing along with me.

"Maybe you can give me one some day? or get matching ones? i mean if you don't want to i totally-"

"Eddie"

"Like i don't wanna pressure you into-"

"Eds"

"Tattoos are like perm-"

"EDDIE!"

"yeah?"

"i'd love that"

I may not be a pro tattoo artist, but for Eddie, i will try my best.

[maelerie]

WIP challenge: write the last paragraph of your most recent work then tag 3 others to do the same.  

Thank you @snowywolff and @oumaheroes for tagging me! It’s not something I have been working on recently. It’s been in my wip folder for a couple of months now, but I do hope I’ll finish it someday! 

She promptly produced a packet of cigarettes out of her skirt pocket and offered one to Belgium.

“Dank u,” Belgium said as she readily took a cigarette and sat herself down next to Ireland. She fumbled around in her pockets until her hands found the little rectangular box she was searching for. “You want a light?”

With a nod in thanks Ireland inclined her head as Belgium stroke a match and held it out. Taking that first, long, drag of her cigarette, she closed her eyes blissfully, before slowly exhaling the smoke.

Belgium laughed lightly at the expression on her companion’s face and lit her own cigarette, hoping to find the same comfort. 

As she inhaled however, Belgium immediately knew she would not.

“Merd─” she still managed before her lungs felt as if they were melting away from the inside out and she lurched forward, violently coughing into her hands and gasping for air in between.

“Ah feck!” Ireland jumped up from the bench and started hitting Belgium on the back before realising that didn’t help a thing and rubbed circles between her shoulders instead, while Belgium almost literally coughed up her lungs.

Grabbing a handkerchief from her pocket, Belgium held it to her lips as the coughing lessened. When she could breathe again, she saw it was covered in blood and the copper taste now filled her mouth.

Ireland cursed up a storm when she saw. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I know they say these things help with the airflow in the lungs, but I’m starting to believe those cigarette manufacturers are all gobshites!”

Despite just having recovered her regular breathing, Belgium let out a laugh. “That could very well be, but it’s okay,” she discretely folded the handkerchief back into her pocket. “I’ll be fine in a bit.”

Ireland wasn’t laughing. “Right. I don’t think coughing up blood is something that’ll be fine in a bit, seeing as you and I both know you have had lung issues since that gas attack in April, but I admire your enthusiasm.”

I’m not sure if there’s anyone left to tag! So if you see this and you want to join in: I tag you!!  

[exovapor]

I'm OBSESSED with your writing. Can you try.. Maybe, Donnie being a filthy boy being an 'stalker-ish' of his long time crush? Be checks their FB for new posts, saves every picture of them he finds? He doesn't mean to be a creep, feels guilty, but just doesn't know how to ask for more than friendship?

Good afternoon Anon. Here is my short story in relation to your ask.

I wasn't sure where you wanted me to take this, so I had to do a bit of guessing on my part. I hope this something like you were wanting.

I will admit that this ask was a bit of a struggle for me, not knowing a clear direction to take it outcome made me a little unsure of my writing and guessing abilities LOL. However, I will admit to crying along with the characters in this story more than once.

Thanks again for the ask and the initial compliment. I hope to continue to earn your favor in future posts.

· Stalker [noun]: 1a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention. 2a person who hunts game stealthily.

· Donnie stared at the definition on his one of his monitor screens while his various other screens were busy flashing receipts of files downloaded, text trail streams from your phone, notices of any social media post/update/like/heart/emoji, a GPS line grid of your routes today (overlayed over the routes you’d taken previously), and data search hits of anything and everything that pertained to you.

· At this point, the boy had literally every picture you had ever posted, anywhere, of yourself. In fact, he had all the pictures that other people posted of you in them. He had even gone through the effort of designing a face recognition program that picks you out of the background of total strangers’ pictures and, yeah, he had those in a file too.

· He has special file folders that compile things that you like, things you don’t like, things that make you happy, things that make you sad. He is your own personal Pinterest and you didn’t even know it… and maybe that is the part that keeps bothering him so much.

· He sits staring at that word and definition and chewing his bottom lip. True, he knows the word and the meaning, but he needed to LOOK at it, analyze it, mull it over in his guilt ridden brain.

· He just KNEW the word Stalker couldn’t apply to him.

· After all, he isn’t harassing or persecuting you, you don’t know! So, it isn’t necessarily ‘unwanted attention’. It is just…unknown attention.

· Stealthily, hmmmm, did that part apply to him? Well, He isn’t EXACTLY being stealthy.

· If you knew about technology like him, then you would probably see his programs running on your devices and be alerted to his activities. AND, if you shared his love and view of technology, then you would probably be more understanding of his activities and not consider them stealthy…just data mining. In fact, you might applaud him.

· ‘Ok, that was taking it a bit too far’, Donnie thinks to himself and he feels a band tighten and squeeze around his infatuated heart.

· He is almost certain that you would be shocked to learn of his extra curricular activities and how they revolve around every aspect of you.

· Regardless of how he tried to spin the truth and wiggle out of the definition of stalker, Donnie still felt guilty for invading your privacy. However, he honestly couldn’t help himself…at least not anymore.

· He has fought the urge, the nagging thoughts and the burning need, to know more about you for what seemed like an eternity.

· Listen to him, he is starting to sound dramatic like Mikey! What is his turning into? He is losing his rational edge!

· To be accurate, it hasn’t been an eternity. In fact, he has known you 1 year, 36 days, 14 hours, 11 minutes, and 23 seconds to be exact. However, you started occupying space in his mind 2 minutes into meeting you and your claim over his mind has grown exponentially over time.

· You were quiet and reserved during that first meeting, so there wasn’t much to go on. It started as a simple visual interest with a thought of ‘Oh. She’s pretty’.

· However, then you started talking and that changed everything.

· You opened up more and more each time you hung out with their little group, revealing layers and layers of interests and personality. You were fascinating…and that’s when his thoughts about you really started to snowball and spiral out of control.

· You went from being a simple pretty face to being a walking embodiment of everything he seriously ever dreamed of having in a mate.

· Early on, there were three sticking points that really made Donnie’s feelings problematic. 1. He was a nearly seven foot tall walking talking turtle and you weren’t. 2. You had a boyfriend that you were deeply in love with and adored. 3. Donnie was too insecure about #1 and how you felt about inter-species dating to let you know that you had started to OWN his heart.

· Now, thanks to his surveillance, there were only two sticking points….#1 and #3.

· He still remembers the feelings of that day, 44 days ago, when the blip of information popped up on this screen alerting him to the fact that your boyfriend was starting to stray.

· Donnie had severely conflicting feelings bombard him at once and it was overwhelming.

· The initial knee jerk reaction was elation, one of the problems blocking him from you may soon be null.

· However, the feeling of elation only lasted for a second or two before the intense anger and sadness set in. Donnie was honestly shocked at the depth of his anger, he didn’t even know he had that level of malice in him. Had he been in physical proximity to your boyfriend at that moment in time, Donnie isn’t sure that he wouldn’t have hurt your guy…or worse.

· How COULD this guy do this? WHY would he? He HAD YOU! What the heck was this guy thinking? Not only did he have you, but you thought the world of him. When you spoke about him you would smile so genuinely, your eyes would shine and gaze off into a bright imagined future. Donnie was always so jealous to watch it happen, he wondered what it would be like to be THAT GUY. And here the idiot was throwing it all away and meeting up with another girl!

· WHAT THE…(yes, this called for a curse) HELL…IS WRONG WITH HUMAN MEN?

· As the anger set root in his heart, the sadness engulfed Donnie like an all-consuming wave. He realized he was going to have to share this information with you, somehow, and that he was going to have to watch as it destroyed you.

· At first, Donnie had a plan to try and save you both from that fate. True, it would hurt him more to save your relationship, but he would rather be the one facing the pain and not you.

· He TRIED to circumvent the situation. He sent anonymous messages to your boyfriend stating that he knew about the infidelity and that he would tell you if needed. However, it didn’t seem like your boyfriend cared because he sent messages back stating Donnie could, basically, go fuck himself.

· Life had cruel sense of irony, thought Donnie, that is exactly what I do since this moron has the woman that I love.

· So, after trying for nearly two weeks to stop what was happening behind your back, Donnie had no choice but to let you in on the secret.

· Donnie couldn’t come right out and tell you that he caught your boyfriend cheating by hijacking your data streams and the data streams of those around you. So, Donnie intercepted some texts between your boyfriend and his mistress and he then sent you a text, under the guise of your boyfriend, telling you to meet him at a specified restaurant for a date.

· It had been a gut wrenching night for Donnie. He remembered watching it all play out on camera feeds from around the restaurant and street outside. He watched you dressed up in your pretty dress get out of your cab in front of the restaurant. You had such a lovely smile on your face, you must have thought you were in for a romantic evening.

· He watched as you walked inside and how the hostess got flustered and confused by a 2nd girl showing up for your boyfriend’s seated-for-two table.

· Donnie stopped breathing as your eyes found the new couple holding hands and giving each other sweet kisses across the table. Hands and lips that were supposed to be yours were touching some stranger.

· Donnie watched your smile and eyes die…the light of your inner sun go out…

· …and it killed him.

· He’s not sure who was crying the hardest, you standing there in that restaurant witnessing the scene or him back at the lair watching your world crush around you on his monitor.

· It had taken a while for you both to recover from that night.

· His brothers noticed his melancholy mood for a couple of weeks but Donnie wouldn’t tell them what was bothering him. And you stayed in your bed, refusing to face the world, for nearly as long.

· Eventually, the group began to notice your silence and absence, so April stopped by your apartment to check on you. She was the one to pull you out of bed, get you to shower and eat. She visited everyday and made sure you had someone to vent to and a shoulder to cry on.

· Donnie was glad that April could be there for you when he couldn’t. He didn’t think it was appropriate for him, a male, to be your confidant at that time. Especially since he felt so much guilt over having to be the one to expose you to that pain.

· No, he didn’t CAUSE the pain, but he did have to make you face it and he didn’t like not being able to protect you from it. You were such a rare, precious creature and watching you in pain felt like he was suffocating slowly.

· There were some points during those first few weeks that he questioned if he did the right thing, but logic told him it would have eventually come to pass with or without his involvement. It was better to rip the bandage of quickly and let you start to heal than it was to let you linger and drag out the inevitable.

· Donnie did secretly check on you every single night during patrol. And, of course, his surveillance feeds were always running. He watched from a distance as his beautiful phoenix burn down to ashes and, eventually, started to rise again.

· Now, it’s been over 3 months and you’ve begun to be more like your old self. Donnie can tell there is a silent sadness there, but you are able to laugh and smile with the group during your get togethers. And each time you two are left alone, his mind nags at him about those last two sticking points.

· Would you be at all interested in him? And HOW does he go about telling you that you have become the center of his world?

· Still staring at the monitor and the Stalker definition, Donnie sighs and rubs the bridge of his snout to release of the pressure now pushing against the inside of his head. The memories of what has happened, the emotions of what was and what is, it was all starting to be too much.

· “Bro, what’s all this?”, Mikey says standing behind Donnie’s chair, talking around a mouth full of pizza.

· “NOTHING!”, says Donnie, voice breaking from the stress of being caught. A startled Donnie quickly taps some keys on his keyboard and the screens revert back to the standard lair camera feeds.

· Mikey may look or even come off as naïve at times, but he’s no fool, he can sense that his older brother is trying to hide something. “Dude, seriously, what was that? I’ve been standing back here reading the screens. I saw Y/N’s name and that looked like her phone number on that other file…, you know the file that looks like texts messages. And why is there a plotted map of the area around her apartment, her work, and to the lair? What’s up?”, Mikey said giving a disapproving look at being thought a pushover.

· “Just standard surveillance, Mikey, nothing to worry about.”, Donnie says trying to placate Mikey’s curiosity. Donnie hates lying, especially to Mikey, but he’s feeling so guilty about being such a…(inward sigh)…stalking creep that admitting the truth is hard to do.

· Mikey stands there staring at Donnie and, as he does, Donnie begins to fidget with his computer chair armrests.

· Mikey stuffs the remnants of the pizza slice into his mouth and does his best Leo impersonation by crosses his arms and staring down at Donnie as sternly as his jolly face can achieve, “Dude, I’m not going to ask you again. You’ve been weird for months. We’ve let it go for the most part but now you are hiding things from me…from ME, dude! You and I, we’re like peanut butter and jelly, we’re ice cream and chocolate fudge, we young dudes have got to stick together. Trust me, bro, I’ve got you!”.

· Donnie stared at the floor, too ashamed to meet Mikey’s eyes any longer. He gave a heavy sigh and reluctantly started to speak, “Sorry Mike, I…I honestly don’t know what’s come over me lately. I’m doing things I never thought I would do, I’m feeling so guilty about it, but I don’t know if I can stop doing it either. I feel…lost.”.

· Mike relaxed his leader stance and leaned against one of Donnie’s lab tables, “Bro, I can tell you’ve been carrying some heavy stuff lately. You need to let it out.”

· Donnie felt the heat rise up through his body like he was suddenly being consumed by a fire and he ripped his glasses off his face and drew them down on the desk in frustration, “Mikey, I’m in love with Y/N. I have been for a while. I have been…”, Donnie hangs his head in shame, “…tracking all her digital foot prints and watching her. In fact, I’m the reason she found out that asshole boyfriend of her's cheated.”

· Mikey’s mouth drops open at Donnie’s demeanor and use of the word ‘asshole’, “Whoa, dude, why didn’t you say something earlier?”.

· Donnie can feel a stinging at the corners of his eyes, this was so embarrassing, so frustrating, so…..so many things at a once. He didn’t have a response for Mikey, all he could do was shake his head.

· Still with his head hung down and staring at the floor, Donnie starts to hear Mikey chuckle. Donnie looks up to see Mikey’s eyes on him and for some reason they are full of merriment at his painful dilemma. Donnie stares at his, normally, very considerate brother in astonishment, this isn’t like Mikey at all!

· “Mikey, I’m more than serious here, now is not the time to make fun of me. What is so funny?”, Donnie asks exasperatedly.

· Mikey shakes his bald head and claps his brother on the shoulder with his green hand, “Bro, she thinks you’re cute.”.

· “W-What?!”, Donnie stammers out.

· Mikey, still chuckling, says, “Yeah, dude, that’s why I asked WHY you didn’t say something about liking her sooner, she’s always thought you were cute. She and I talk about it all the time.”.

· Donnie just stares at his jolly brother in silence. His mind is too blown to form a sentence.

· Mikey turns to leave stating, “And by the way, dude, stop watching her like that…that’s just creepy.”.

@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @kokokatsworld @nittleboo @the-second-circle-of-shell

[esperantoauthor]

I was gonna ask about the Tech Thriller one, but Bella beat me to it, so please tell me more about the Quaratine fic (signed by me, who had covid around a month ago)

My idea was to write a story inspired by the below news article. I wrote 800 words on April 18 2020 and haven't come back to it since. This is one that probably won't ever get written (never say never, though). I think I just wasn't in the headspace to write about pandemic life; it was too depressing.

I'm sorry to hear you had covid and hope you are feeling better! I am still one of the rare few who has never had it.

🌟Ask me about my WIP folder🌟

Here's the 800 words I wrote below the cut, if you anyone is curious:

Chapter 1: If you want to sing out, sing out

“We’re going to be the only ones out there, Rachel!” Kurt protested. “If you want to look like an idiot far be it from me to stop you but I’d like to survive this pandemic with my dignity intact.

“If we’re the only ones out there, then there won’t be anyone to look like an idiot in front of, genius!” she countered.

Kurt let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine!”

Rachel immediately brightened up, took Kurt by the hand, and yanked him over to the back door of their tiny New York City apartment. They burst out onto the fire escape, suddenly thrust back into the world. Kurt inhaled the fresh air and soaked in the sense of space that had been in short supply lately.

“Okay, here, look. I pulled up the lyrics, just in case.”

Kurt gave her a scornful look. “Don’t insult me.”

“Do you see anyone?” she asked nervously.

Kurt looked around for signs of life. They could only see a handful of other apartments from their vantage point; the odds didn’t look good.

“Well, it’s 7 o’clock. I guess we start?” Kurt was unsure. Should they wait longer to see if anyone else decided to join or should they just begin.

The lone pair fumbled their way through the first verse, forgetting where the song actually started, but once they got their footing Kurt forgot about looking a fool and just let the song fill him up.

She says, we've got to hold on to what we've got

It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not

We've got each other and that's a lot for love

We'll give it a shot

Woah, we're half way there

Woah, livin' on a prayer

Take my hand, we'll make it I swear

Woah, livin' on a prayer

Then Kurt heard it! Another voice! They weren’t alone after all. The figure must have noticed them too because he began to wave frantically. Kurt couldn’t help waving back just as energetically. There was such joy in the simple act of seeing another person, of bridging the distance between them through song.

On the line “take my hand,” the figure reached his arm towards them over the balcony railing. Rachel giggled and Kurt felt himself drawn as if by some invisible force to reach back.

In the distance, Kurt could hear other unseen voices join their song. He might be apart but he wasn’t alone.

After the last notes of Bon Jovi had faded, Rachel and Kurt looked out over the quiet street below them for a few more minutes, soaking in the final rays of sunshine before returning to their enclosure.

Rachel folded her arms across her chest, looking smug. “Admit it. You had fun.”

“I just wasn’t sure if it was really going to be a thing, you know? But yeah, it felt like a moment.”

Rachel’s expression softened and she joined Kurt on their living room couch.

“Did I tell you that Aaron finally got his diagnosis confirmed? I mean his understudy has taken the role for the past three weeks, but still this makes it official.”

“Wow, yeah, that’s intense. He’s doing okay, though, right?”

“Yeah, the director updated everyone after the 8pm show yesterday. He’s recuperating at home. I think his wife is looking after him.”

They had all but assumed that Aaron had the virus at this point, considering his symptoms, but it still shook Kurt to have it confirmed. Someone he knew, even tangentially, was part of this thing now. At first, Rachel had insisted that her director was overreacting by putting the entire cast and crew in quarantine for two weeks but now… well, Kurt was supremely grateful that Rachel had been as protected as possible from exposure. 

Kurt suddenly glanced over at his roommate, as if to double check she wasn’t in respiratory distress and he was just noticing.

Correctly interpreting his expression, Rachel reached out to give his hand a squeeze. “I’m fine, Kurt. If I was going to get sick it would have happened already. Besides, you know I keep my immune system operating at peak performance.”

Kurt snorted. 

*bzzz*

“One sec, Rach.” He pulled his phone out from his back pocket, eyes growing wide at the cryptic text message from Santana. “Turn on the news.” 

He fumbled with the remote for a moment, before getting their antique television turned on and locating the local news. 

“…has been and will continue to be the health and well-being of Broadway theatregoers and the thousands of people who work in the theatre industry every…”

Rachel gasped and pointed to the ticker tape rolling across the bottom of the screen. 

Broadway Goes Dark

Rachel’s hand was clammy in his, clutching at him, breathing irregularly. “No, no, no. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening Kurt!”

[straighttohellbuddy]

📓 !!

Okay im so excited please know I think about How The Light Gets In's world every day still, and so anyways here is a side story I want to write but there's a lot of set up regarding the reader and eef becoming friends again. For context, they were incredibly close around 2014-2017, but people were getting creepy and invasive and demanding about their friendship (think 2012 toxic side of the Phandom, if that makes sense), and a lot of the reader's relationships were strained at that time because while they had been successful before, they were absolutely blowing up after their first album released and they became far more mainstream. They felt like they were bothering the people they had become closest to, both because they're worried that they're a bother, and because gossip rags and paps would harrass their friends looking for a scoop, and so they ended up just completely cutting off contact without warning one day right before they went on their first tour. the start of HTLGI is about 3 years since they'd been in proper contact with any of the creators they were close to at that time.

DON'T LOOK AT ME on their 2017 ep Hyperfocus was a more general song in response to everything that had been happening in their life around that time, with a focus on how they stop associating with anyone for a while, without outright addressing it, but on their latest album n o s t a l g i a, read at 5am ft. Troye was specifically written at the start of quarantine, when the reader was getting back into YouTube, about their feelings regarding how their friendship with ethan ended, as they spent a lot of this time looking back of their YouTube career, and he was the person they were closest to for a very long time, before they iced everyone out.

OKAY SO THERES MORE OF THE BACKGROUND OF THE WHOLE FIC AND THE READER BUT

Werewolf Ethan & Mark. I'm sorry I don't make the rules. They have golden retriever energy you cannot change my mind. But also because this is the HTLGI you know that supernatural characteristics are able to be activated rather than just triggered by the full moon. What I'm trying to say is since this is set in the year of Unus Annus, they film a video together that's like, you know that show where a person has to try and outwit a professional tracker? Except its the reader being tracked by two werewolves at night in a national park. Reader is wearing some sort of night vision camera on themselves so whenever it cuts to them the audience can't actually see how they're using their powers, if that makes sense.

Also the reader agreed to this knowing it would probably be when they ended up telling Mark and Ethan about them being a demon.

Video is titled Hunting Down An Old Friend

A few Moments that the boys edit out:

The reader using their stupidly sharp prehensile tail to swing from tree branches, though they leave in shots where the reader's tail can't be seen.

Knowing that with the werewolves having advanced hearing, the reader would give themselves away by talking to the camera, they take a few minutes having flown up to a high tree branch, to pull out a notebook and do a little sketch of how Mark and Ethan appear in their Demon True Sight, and holding it up to their camera.

Werewolves being one of the animals who can kind of sense demons without being able to identify them, essentially like dogs can sense natural disasters and are often good judges of character, this can be heightened on command for werewolves. There's about 15 minutes of footage cut out of the boys discussing or mentioning how this place has awful vibes and that they should have done this during the day. It gets worse as they get closer to the reader, who didn't realise that the boys hadn't thought to ever use that particular power around them before.

("I say this with so much love and appreciation for you, dude," Ethan yells, looking up at you from the base of the tree they'd finally found you in, "but I- this is making me anxious I feel like something terrible's gonna happen, and we should probably get out of here and film the rest of the video back at Mark's." And behind him, Mark's nodding, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eyes scanning the trees for whatever was most likely the cause of this terrible impending doom.

Oh. It's you. And they don't know its you.

Now or never, you suppose.

"Can you cut the cameras for a second? You're going to be fine I promise," you called back, and though they obligingly did, they both seemed antsy. You cleared your throat awkwardly, "that... that terrible feeling, that's not the park or anything in it- well I mean, it is, but it's just- it's me."

and later

"Dude your wings smell like rotten eggs."

"To YOU Ethan! And no they don't!"

"If it makes you feel better they smell like burning and rotten eggs."

"It does not."

(for reference, when enhancing their sense of smell werewolves can kind of distinguish various supernatural creatures, or parts of supernatural creatures. Some creatures have an inherent scent, but some, like angels and demons, only have distinct scents when they've activated certain attributesor abilities; demon wings smell like fire and brimstone, which unfortunately means burning and rotten eggs. I like to think angels wings are like the love potion in Harry Potter that smells like the things you love the most. Mark and Ethan usually don't enhance it around each other because they smell like wet dog to the other)

This gets about 2k notes on tumblr. The reader likes it:

Ethan finally finding Y/N at the end of Hunting Down An Old Friend (2020) Colourised.

Other things to note regarding all this:

It takes a while to rebuild their friendship to the point where they're comfortable enough to be on camera together (eef and reader specifically).

However, the Unus Annus video is the first thing they properly do together, and the reader, in an effort to connect more and make up for the past, will join in multiplayer gaming streams if asked.

Impromptu duet in proximity Among Us of Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy, which has their respective chats and fandoms losing their minds, except it stops abruptly after the first chorus as they both remember the opening lines of the second verse (make it easy, say I never mattered -- those lyrics hit a little too close to home)

But also the reader convinces him to join him for a proper cover in like, February of 2021, and it's something deeply sappy (I'm thinking Bon Iver by mxmtoon because I think its sweet and fits them well)

Also Ethan being reminded that the reader is kind of a much bigger deal than when they'd been friends before.

designed to hurt (touch me) from their ep Working On It is nominated for a Grammy for Track of the Year, and n o s t a l g i a wins Best Pop Album (because it's my fic and I said so)

FIRST OF ALL designed to hurt (touch me) is a beautifully produced song about Corpse (which people do not know) and the title itself is literally making fun of something he said IMAGINE his reaction to it being Grammy Nominated 😂😂😂 God he'd be proud but lowkey fuming, meanwhile the moment the nominations are announced the reader tweets:

me: here is an album where I processed my entire world view including heartfelt explorations of the trauma of existing and oversharing in the public eye from a young age without the traditional barrier between audience and entertainer

the grammys: that's cute BUT you know the song you wrote to bully your boyfriend and also be horny on main for him before you guys were even dating? THAT deserves its own recognition.

meanwhile Ethan's like..... this is the same person who I filmed a video with playing cards against humanity, and you laughed so hard you almost threw up. I am very proud but deeply confused.

The Hot Meme of Late April 2021 is "2 time Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N" with a gif, still, or quote from the reader where they're just being an absolute chaos gremlin.

Of course we have "If I bleached my asshole for charity I'd do it tastefully."

2 Time Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N speaking to their actual boyfriend in the year of our lord 2020: You are being executed for Clown Crimes.

ethan posts a short video to twitter simply of his screen where he's renaming a folder from "Never Before Seen Images of Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N" simply changing it to 2 time Artist. The reader responds specifically to his tweet with a video of themselves asking Google how to hard reset someone else's computer.

So many screenshots from old videos surface that week.

I miss this world. Sorry this is rambly!!