#rip to all my other projects this fic just happened

[momotonescreaming]

Our Sweetness

Rating: T | WC: 1.4k | Steve/Tommy/Carol Polyamory, Established Relationship [also on ao3]

“Okay, so,” Carol starts, capping her pen. The fluffy end bobbles as she gestures with it, looking over at her boys. She’s sat cross legged at the end of her bed, weekly planner in her lap. Music plays softly in the background — a mixtape Steve made for the three of them — from a boombox she has resting on her desk on the other side of the room.

Steve looks up at the sound of her voice from his place in Tommy’s lap. Sat in between Tommy’s legs, his back pressed to his stomach, arms braced over Tommy’s thighs — splayed wide. He’s comfortable. Tommy’s hands carding through his hair, smoothing out the strands and ruining his carefully styled locks. Melting into it, blinking slowly. It’s a little thrilling, that they get this. They’re allowed to ruin his hair, to hold him, to make him feel comfortable.

“I’ve got our week all figured out, so listen up.” She continues, looking a little pointedly at Tommy. He lets out a quiet but indignant ‘Hey!’ as Carol barrels on. Tapping the page with the end of her capped pen, looking down at her careful cursive, and then back up at Steve and Tommy’s tangled bodies. “Monday I have a haircut and style, and I will not be rescheduling. So you two can hang unless there’s anything else you haven’t told me?”

“Nah,” Tommy replies, still absently running his hands through Steve’s hair. He looks down at the man, tilting his head up gently so they can lock eyes. “Wanna come over then, baby? Parents won’t get home ‘til late.”

Steve just sighs, sinking into the feeling. “Can’t. I still have that Social Studies essay to work on, and I’m rapidly running out of time.”

“Study date, then?” Tommy says, grinning. And Carol knows he does not have any actual studying in mind.

“Monday.” Carol says, talking over him, smothering any answer Steve might have. “I’m at the hairdresser, Steve is studying, and Tommy is jerking off alone.”

“Hey!” Tommy exclaims, hands stilling, and Steve just laughs. Brings one of his hands up to rest on Tommy’s side. Runs his hand in small circles, a comfort. “What the hell Carol!”

“We will be graduating together, if I have anything to do with it,” She continues. “Plus you two need to keep your grades if you want to stay on the team.”

Tommy scoffs, but Carol can see he carefully doesn’t move out of Steve’s hold, away from his hand. He grabs it actually, pulling it away from his side, and brings it to his mouth. Places a soft kiss to the back of Steve’s knuckles, at the soft hair there, and Steve smiles. Soft, and sweet, and looking up at Tommy.

Fuck, she loves them.

“Tuesday Steve has swim practice.”

“Yeah, and it might run late too, with the meet so soon. So no hanging out after, I’m afraid.” Steve adds, sighing, not letting go of Tommy’s hand. He sounds a little disappointed.

“No worries baby,” She says, voice dropping into something saccharine sweet. Comforting. Reassuring. She always takes care of her boys. “I can have time with Tommy, and then we can make it up to you later.”

She deliberately keeps her tone sweet, not dipping into something sultry. Because as much as she loves making it up to Steve — taking care of him, making him feel good and taking him apart. Sometimes he needs it a little sweeter. Non-sexual intimacy. Massages and baths, cuddling while watching a movie. That they’re in it for him, and not just his body.

“Okay,” Steve replies softly, and she can see how much he yearns to reach out and touch. But they have to organise their week, or they’ll never get anything done.

“Wednesday Tommy has the dentist with his Mom after school.” She starts, pointing at the appointment in her planner, time carefully recorded. Tommy scoffs, but doesn’t interrupt. “And I have a study/hang with Nicole.”

She doesn’t say anything, neither does Tommy, but they both look at Steve.

“It’s okay,” He says. “I’ll go to the gym, go for a run. It’ll be good.”

“Keeping those muscles warm for us, huh?” Tommy jokes, mouth curling into a smirk.

“Oh you know it,” Steve replies, looking back up at Tommy, and then back to Carol, smile on his face.

“Thursday is basketball practice, obviously,” She continues, lest the boys get lost in their banter, their flirting. “So if you guys want to have a date after, I’ll have some me time.”

The boys basketball dates, Carol knew, were quite often sweaty gross things. Full of shower sex, rough hand jobs, and manly grunting. They needed to get it out of their system, flirt on the basketball court, work themselves up, and then fuck it out.

And most of the time it was best if they did it without Carol. They had a system, it worked. They got to have their jockish hookups, and get it all out so they could be good for her.

She watched as Tommy and Steve looked at each other, grinning, sinking into each others gazes. It was sweet — or it would be if she couldn’t tell they were being horny about it.

“Friday we’re totally free,” Carol says, adjusting her posture. Finally. That was the thing about they dynamic they had, the relationship they had built — all three of them — was it was occasionally very, very, hard to find a time they were all free. No extracurriculars, no appointments, no other commitments with friends. “So date night? All of us?”

“Matty from swim has been talking about throwing a party,” Steve adds. “We could go let loose? Dance? Have a few drinks and then go back to mine?”

“I thought your parents are home?” Tommy asks, brow furrowing as he looks down at Steve, still reclining serenely in Tommy’s laps. Cradled by his legs, his warm thighs. It’s a good place to be, Carol knows. She’d almost be jealous if she didn’t love the sight of it so much.

“They are,” he replies with a sigh, chest moving with the sheer force of the air leaving his lungs. “But they’re driving out of town for some dinner party. They’ll be back Saturday afternoon.”

“Well that’s plenty of time for us to have some fun.” Carol adds with a cat-like grin. “We can go out Saturday morning, get some brunch? Get Steve out of the house?”

“Please,” he says with another sigh. “They’re always a nightmare when they get back.”

“Perfect.” Carol says with finality, snapping her planner closed. She rests her fluffy pen on top, and pushes it off to the side. “That’s it then. So please, for the love of all that is holy, please remember it all.”

“Could never forget you, hot stuff,” Tommy flirts, holding out his free hand for her to take. That glint in his eye, that curl to his lips, the look he gives her. It’s addicting. It’s charming. She rolls her eyes, of course she does, but she grabs Tommy’s hand. Lets him pull her closer, into his grasp. “Love your organisation skills.”

It sounds like a joke, like he’s teasing — and Tommy sort of is — but she knows he genuinely means it. The way she merges their lives together in her little planner. Everyone’s sports, and appointments, school due dates and family commitments.

She lets herself tumble down onto the bed, into Tommy’s hold, Steve shuffling over to make room for her. They’re curled together like commas, Tommy holding onto them both, sharing the same breath.

Steve hooks an ankle over hers, anchoring her, and brings his free hand up to gently brush across her face. Her flushed cheeks, her sharp jaw. Tilting it up with a gentle press of his fingers.

“Thank you sweetheart,” he says, and she feels a gasp hitch in her chest. It’s the way he says it, that always gets her. The warmth, the sheer emotion in all his words, his tone. He cares for her, for Tommy, and for all of them together. It leaks out of him, like it’s too big for him to contain.

She loves it. Lets her eyes drop down to Steve’s lips. Plush and pink and right there. He sees this, Tommy sees it, and a shiver runs down her spine. “You gonna kiss me, or what?”

“With pleasure,” Steve whispers, voice dropping low as he closes the distance between them.

[gay-dorito-dust]

could I request randomly shouting “floor is lava!” In front of the batboys? I’m in the mood for a crack fic

It was a dreary day within the Wayne manor and everyone was bored out of their minds. Nothing they did was enough to cure the boredom they were subjected to that day.

However a day of hope appeared before them in the form of you bursting through the door, holding a unbothered Alfred the cat in one hand and a confused Jerry the Turkey in the other, screaming: ‘THE FLOOR IS LAVA!’

Dick is pushed to the floor and stepped on by a mysterious assailant but manages to get up and use his acrobatic skills -cheat skills as Jason would like to call them- to project himself upwards to the expensive chandelier and clung on for dear life.

He was 100% safe.

Smug bastard and his cheat codes -Jason Tood, certified older brother hater aka the younger sibling.

Jason pushed dick onto the floor and step onto his back, somehow trips and lands flat on his face against the carpeted flooring. However he quickly recovers by picking himself back up and bolts towards the curtains instead, where he tries to cling onto them for dear life as the sound of fabric slowly ripping could be heard by everyone.

Jason was on a time limit before he was sent plummeting back to the floor and towards his second death. 39% survival rate.

Damian is the first of the bunch to move into action as he -somehow- managed to grab Titus in a feet of hidden strength fueld by adrenaline, throwing the Great Dane over his shoulder, and still found it within himself to then clamber up the book shelves in the library where he stayed to watch the chaos below him like he was god.

The bookshelves are wooden, it was only a matter of time before he and Titus would have to change to a different location. 50% survival rate. Titus is a good puppy.

Tim shuts the computer, sets it aside and follows Jason’s example by lying down on the floor and awaits his fate with a blank expression. ‘My time has come.’

0% survival rate, instant death but Tim don’t give two shits, he’s lived long enough.

Duke: poor lad is freaking out trying to find a good spot and settles with standing on the table with the janky leg as he was forced to continuously fight for his balance atop of it.

He’s lost too many times just to loose again. He hates floor is lava with a vengeance. 50% survival rate if he doesn’t fall off and looses his fight with the table.

Stephane: the mastermind behind the whole ordeal, cackles as she stays lounging on the plush sofa, sipping her drink unbothered by the consequences to come through the door.

50% survival rate, may drop lower if she tries to reach for her phone that she had left on the table where Duke was. She hadn’t thought this whole thing through admittedly.

Bruce Wayne: heard the chaos and went to see what was happening and sighs upon seeing his children, plus you, practically having destroyed the library over a stupid game.

He’s too old for this shit but ends up showing all of you up either way by standing atop of the stone mantle piece of the fireplace, menacingly.

10000% survival rate bc it’s Bruce Wayne.

[phantomrose96]

okay so i know that you probably get a lot of asks about sham sacrifice but like, how does vlad age? he's clearly not a 19 year old any more, and he's not rotting, otherwise it wouldn't result in facial hair and the muscle growth in his chest. the reason i ask is that his explanation of "the ghost stacks cells where they should be and keeps the heart beating despite not needing to in order to imitate it" doesn't quite mesh because by the logic employed his body should kinda just be rebuilding 19-yo vladdie.

plus, ya know, he changes color. seems to imply a physiological change

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2)

So I talk about it here!!

It's not stated (yet) (in fic) (oops part 3), but Sham Sacrifice employs one of my long-time beloved headcanons which is that a ghost's appearance is psychosomatic. It's an ectoplasmic projection built on their sense-of-self. It's my headcanon that Vlad's original ghost form looked much like his human form (similar to Phantom/Fenton) but as Vlad keyed in on this aspect of ghost physicality, he used it to design his Plasmius self (boy you do NOT have vampire fangs naturally).

But also it's not a free-for-all character designer screen. It takes a genuine belief in your sense of self. It takes strong confidence and conviction to coax it to change from its steady state. Most ghosts can't employ this on a whim. It's buried in a sense of self they can't easily or readily change. Vlad is uniquely strong-willed.

Sham Sacrifice takes this headcanon a step further because, if halfas are full ghosts that never split from their physical dead bodies which the ghost is in control of building, shaping, and maintaining, then it is both ghost form AND human form which are sculpted out of this sense of self.

This has been fine for Danny "I'm not actually dead I'm just half ghost" Fenton, whose human form has passively maintained its form from when he was alive. It's his belief and sense of self. It reconstructs itself accordingly.

Vlad, on the other hand, in the same effort he put into sculpting his ghost form, ALSO put that effort into sculpting his human form. NOT a sickly, ailing 19-year-old at death's front door. He recreated and maintains himself as alive, healthy, strong.

And actively, intentionally aging.

Which is not something Danny has been doing.

And maybe Danny's passively done some aging of his human form, because his sense of self is still "I'm an alive 14-year-old and I'm getting older." But is this as much as he should have actively been changing and aging? Maybe. But probably not. (And now, that he knows he's dead...?)

Vlad was intentional every step of the way with what he did, and what's happened to him. His physical aging and maturing has been a self-driven process.

...And it leaves open some challenging questions. Is Vlad a dead 19-year-old who's been just manually changing his physical appearance for the last 2 decades? Is that dismissive of the life he's lived to act like he's just 19 because that happens to be the age he died? What does it mean to grow up if you're a ghost who's been ripped away from your natural biological processes?

And "at least" Vlad was an adult. Young. 19 is still young. But an adult. How much harder is this all when you're only 14...?

[cozy-writes-things]

Electric Love: Pt. 1

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

All of my fics so far have followed the same universe, so I thought it's only logical that I post an introduction to that universe.

The old man peering at you through puffy eyes and age seemed to have an air shrouded in mystery. His thin, white wisps of hair seemed to stagnate in place as he adjusted his button down.

“This old thing has been around for years now,” he gruffed—an unreadable tone—as his hand encased the yellowed plastic, “I don’t remember what happened to it; must have dropped it, or let some animal chip away at it.”

The dingy, vintage computer before your eyes surely had not been dropped, nor torn into by some animal. It sat upon his countertop completely destroyed; as if it had burst and shattered from the inside out, ripping the glass into jagged shards. You swallowed this thought; this was no time to debate the old man. He seemed to be quite senile as it was and pushing any further seemed like a fruitless effort. Instead, you stretched a thin smile his way, pursing your lips in thought.

“You actually think you can get this thing to work again?” he queried, raising a salt and pepper brow at your expression.

“Well, I’m not sure, but… I’d like to try,” what you hadn’t told him, however, was your infatuation with electronics. Ever since completing your bachelor’s in computer science, you have been tinkering away at many different projects in between jobs, building custom PCs, fixing old Game Boys, and many others. This little computer was an addition to your ever growing collection.

It came from a company you had never heard of before, only to learn it had become defunct in the 80s due to some inexplicable software issues in their products. This certainly intrigued you, as prodding into its code could provide some useful insight to real, vintage tech that just doesn’t exist anymore. But, that’s only if you manage to fix the heap of destruction limply hung before you.

The old man stiffened at your words, ever so slightly, before rattling out, “Well, if you do, don’t bring it anywhere near me. I can’t stand all this tech, and gadgets, and whatnot. Pisses me off.”

“Right,” you interjected, knowing people like him tend to go on long, anti-future, anti-technology rants, trying desperately to beat him to the punch, “well, how much do you want for it?”

He stilled, contemplating for a moment, “twenty-five should be fine.”

“Perfect,” you chirped, padding against your pockets and bag searching for some cash. Pulling out your wallet, you waded around the folds, only to find a crumpled up and faded ten dollar bill and a debit card.

“Ah, I’ve only got a ten…”

He rolled his eyes, “of course you do, you got PayPal, then?” Your cheeks flushed a burning red hot from embarrassment, “ah, yes, I do-”

“Great, just pay me that way,” he bent down and scribbled something messily onto a note, “here’s my information. I made sure to set this up for people like you, you know. Nobody carries cash anymore, or so my grandson tells me.”

You force out a nervous chuckle.

“That’s certainly true… these days, ah…” you unlocked your phone and began inputting his information into PayPal before pressing send on the digital payment, “okay, it went through.”

“Perfect. You need help getting this hunk of junk to your car?”

“No, I should be fine, thank you, sir,” you croak as you heave the broken computer into your arms, heading towards his door.

“Well, come back if you want to buy anything else. Nobody goes to yard sales anymore, it seems.”

You can only turn your head and chuckle at his quip, before awkwardly dashing out of his apartment and towards your car. The dampened asphalt from the rain squelched under your toes as you lugged the large piece of tech to the passenger side.

“There,” you whispered, to nobody in particular, as you awkwardly buckled the computer in place, “hopefully you won’t fall that way.”

And just like that, you were off, headed towards home to begin the massive project that was repairing this obsolete device.

“What to do with you?”

You groaned as you thumped the solid mass of plastic and metal against your desk, “you’re incredibly broken.”

First and foremost, it needs a screen replacement. Which is easier said than done. Especially considering the company who manufactured these things hasn’t existed in 40 years. Unfortunately, a close replica will have to do. Maybe you could even upgrade its screen with something with a bit more prowess.

Poking inside of its components seemed to tell a different story. Miraculously, none of the motherboards were damaged with the same ferocity the screen had been. There seemed to be some sort of dried, caked on water damage of some sort, that left a sticky residue, but otherwise, everything seemed to be relatively intact. The yellowed casing could use a wipe down from the thick layer of starchy dust, but it seemed to hold its original shape with surprising ease.

Following a closer inspection, it seemed as though the glass screen, and the components in charge of illuminating it, were the only things in need of replacing. A quick browse on Amazon, some tech forums, and a post on Reddit should be a good start in finding a usable replacement for this sad, broken gadget.

For now, however, you get some isopropyl alcohol and a soft bristled toothbrush to chip away at the water damage on the motherboards in hopes of restoring the electrical connections. You were quite hopeful that you’d get this little guy up and running just as soon as you could find the right parts. It’s only a matter of time.

[joequiinn]

PREVIEW | You Can Have My Hate | B.H. x reader

summary: Unfortunately, you got stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove as your partner for your final assignment in history class. Also unfortunately, Billy discovers you have a killer body underneath all those baggy clothes…

a/n: Billy is a disgusting little man and i love him dearly. as the title says, this is a preview of something i've been working on! the fic is already at 6.5k words and still isn't done, so i decided to put out a little snippet to see if there was any interest, so please let me know if you'd like me to finish the fic!

notes & tropes: fem reader, curvy + large chest reader, foul and suggestive language, canon typical Billy bullshit, awful behavior from both Billy and reader, minor allusions to sex but nothing happens (yet)

music inspo: Closer by Nine Inch Nails

preview wc: 1.9k

You let me violate you | You let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you | You let me complicate you

“Damn, little miss straight-laced,” Billy’s hooded eyes slowly crawled down your body, the corner of his mouthing pulled back in a lecherous smirk, “is that what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes?”

God, you hated Billy Hargrove. Absolutely despised him with every fiber of your being. You knew you should’ve begged your history teacher for a different partner, should’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded for literally anyone other than Billy fucking Hargrove to work on this assignment with you. An idiotic football player or a bitchy cheerleader would’ve been better than this. But no, you didn’t beg and you didn’t plead, so now you were stuck, and god if this wasn’t about to be the worst couple weeks of your life.

Ever since Billy showed up in Hawkins at the beginning of last semester, you detested him. Everything about him screamed disrespectful, hateful asshole, and so having two classes with him meant you had witnessed your fair share of this behavior. Why so many girls wanted to fuck him and why so many boys aspired to be him was a mystery to you, because you could see from the start that he was a no good piece of shit.

But, in a way, you were lucky because you were literally a nobody. And nobodies went unnoticed, which meant not having to deal with bullshit from 90% of your peers. Hell, when your history teacher was pairing everyone off and told Billy who his partner would be, his response was an amused “who?” as if he didn’t believe this person - you - even existed. He had gone the entirety of the school year not having a single clue that you existed, and damn you wish it had just gone on a little longer. You literally had one more month left of senior year, one more month until you never even had to think about Hawkins High again, and the last thing you wanted was to spend half of that month in misery while trying to put up with Billy fucking Hargrove.

This assignment shouldn’t have even been worth shit to you, considering that your grade was nearly perfect and it was your last big project before graduation, but that’s where your history teacher hooked all of you - if this assignment wasn’t completed, then you guys wouldn’t be able to receive your diplomas. Or so he said to deter kids like you from flaking on it - you didn’t know if your boring old history teacher had that kind of authority, but you weren’t about to risk finding out.

And for kids like Billy? Kids who didn’t give a shit, who were already struggling to pass? The grade on this assignment was make or break. Not that it affected you any, of course - Billy could fail his senior year for all you cared. But shockingly enough, he was the one to make a point of its importance to you, the one to emphasize that he had to pass this class and graduate. It was curious to you, since you’d never once seen Billy care about school, but perhaps he was also beginning to feel the fire under his ass to leave Hawkins.

So, for the past week now, you’d been meeting with Billy at the school library, trying your best not to rip out your hair while you did the majority of the work. Hell, you could’ve told Billy just to fuck off and let you work on your own - you’d still let him put his name on the assignment and everything. But for whatever reason, you didn’t and so now you were subjecting yourself to tolerating his bullshit.

And that’s what you were doing right now, sitting across from Billy in the library and using every fiber of your being not to lose it on him. He had been particularly difficult from the moment he sat down, his foot bouncing impatiently and his expression condescending each time you tried to talk to him. He was making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere other than here. The warm temperature of the library combined with your frustration at Billy was causing you to feel a little toasty, so you caved and tugged your large sweater over your head, leaving you in a tight, black tank top that left little to the imagination.

And said tight, black tank top is exactly what Billy was ogling, making you sneer and immediately regret taking off your sweater.

You never liked showing off your body, never liked the attention it drew you. You wouldn’t say you were self-conscious necessarily, you didn’t hate the way you looked in the mirror or anything like that. But you were very aware of how men looked at women’s bodies, and as someone who hated most forms of attention, you weren’t going to have any of that. So you wore baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, hid your frame under clothes that were always a size or so too big. It kept eyes and hands off of you, and you preferred it that way.

But damn it, it was so hot in the library that afternoon and you weren’t thinking clearly. You couldn’t believe your own stupidity - you just had to take off your sweater in front of Billy fucking Hargrove, a boy who only ever saw women as either sex pots or prudes. His lewd gaze was making you feel even more hot under the collar, but shit did you want to put your sweater back on already despite the heat.

“Will you please focus, Hargrove?” You begged in an exacerbated tone, trying to cross your arms over your chest in a way that wasn’t obvious while looking back down to the textbook open in front of you.

“You expect me to focus now, after you whipped those out?” Billy took such obvious joy in knowing that he was making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes once again traveling a salacious path down the curves of your body, “It’s Friday night, I got a pair of double D’s sitting across from me, and you’re asking me to focus on a damn essay?”

“Shut up.” You threatened between your teeth, trying not to raise your voice and draw attention. Your eyes were dark with frustration as you stared at Billy, who simply looked back at you like he didn’t give a damn, like he was just waiting for you to cave to him.

And how the hell could he tell you wore a double D?

You sank in your seat a little while attempting to cross your arms even more aggressively in front of your chest, feeling your cheeks growing red. Billy gave you that smooth, lazy grin that you’ve seen him use before, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in his chair. The feeling of his indecent gaze on your body practically made your skin crawl.

“Fine, Hargrove,” You quickly grab up your belongings and shoot to your feet, fumbling with your bag and sweater to make sure they kept your chest covered, “if you wanna be a prick who won’t focus, we’ll do this next week.”

You started to march out of the library, to retreat to safety. You didn’t like the way Billy was looking at you - it was objectifying and disrespectful and vulgar. Billy never once gave a fuck about - or even noticed - you before, but the second you remove a stupid barrier of clothing, suddenly he’s oh so interested. He was such a pig.

But shit, why was it also… kind of hot?

No, it was not hot.

You couldn’t let yourself even entertain that thought because there sure as shit wasn’t anything hot about it. It wasn’t hot that he objectified you, it wasn’t hot that he drank your body in with impropriety, it wasn’t hot that his tongue ran slowly along his lower lip as his eyes met yours with practiced allure.

No, no, no! You could’ve kicked yourself. Nothing about that should’ve been hot, god damn it.

“Oh, come on, killjoy,” Billy grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around to face him, having followed you through the library. His grip was firm as you looked between his face and hand and back again.

The library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday afternoon, but you looked around to find that the librarian and another student both looked in your direction. It made you even more nervous to know that eyes were on you; what if you got in trouble, what if the librarian reprimands you both for being disruptive? You looked back to Billy, your brows furrowed in annoyance as you whipped your wrist out of his hold with hostility.

“I’m serious, if all you want is to slack off and look at my tits that’s your business.” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widening slightly - that is not what you meant to say at all. Oh god, why the fuck did you say that? Shit, you should’ve just told him that you’d regroup next week, that you weren’t going to put up with him. But no, instead you said arguably the stupidest thing you could, and it was clear on Billy’s face that he was relishing in your stupid words, enjoying them even.

He looked back down at your body, luckily hidden behind your bag and sweater, “My business, huh? Sounds to me like permission to stare.”

“No.” You answered firmly; your cheeks and neck felt so fucking warm. You tried to get back on track, tried to shake off the stupid thing you said just a moment ago, “I just want to finish this project. So, go home and jack off to your Playboys all weekend, and then maybe we can actually get some work done next week.”

Despite your jabs, Billy still grinned wickedly, dipping his head a little as he took a step closer, his voice low, “So, that’s what you’re thinking about, huh? Me jacking off? You enjoying that thought?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find some quick response to that, but you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A sound of disbelief left your throat as you gaped with loathing at Billy for a moment. God, you felt like a damn fish trying to breathe out of water. With a glare in your eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, which seemed to be a great amusement to Billy, whose smile widened as a laugh escaped him.

“God, you make it so easy.” He said, shaking his head, “You gotta lighten up, you know?”

You sigh loudly, eyes still staring at him harshly, “Whatever, Hargrove.”

You attempt to walk away once more, but yet again Billy snatches your wrist, “Wait, wait, wait…”

“Stop acting interested in me all of a sudden,” You try to shake your arm out of his hold again, but this time Billy’s grip is tighter, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Look,” his tone was firm as he instructed, “let’s go back over to the table, get some more work done, and I’ll give you a ride home.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you studied his face, “I don’t need a ride.”

“You don’t have a car.” He countered immediately.

“I don’t need a ride from you.”

“You don’t, but isn’t it generous that I’m offering?”

“More like devious.”

“I’ll be a total gentleman.”

You laughed right in his face, “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

[highlynerdy]

"Aithusa has seen her father's mate in his memories and smelled him on her father's skin when he comes to visit, but this is the first time she gets to meet him for herself."

Nepenthe and Lavender by @0hheytherebigbadwolf

My latest fanARTifact is an entirely handlettered, handbound, and illustrated book of this beautifully fluffy fic (and it has actually been in various states of progress since March 1, 2021.) More below the cut!

So as I said above, I actually started planning this fic over two years ago. Which, yeah, I don't really want to talk about because adhd is a hell of a thing. I love love love this fic (and this entire series) and I was inspired by The Black Hours and other gorgeous manuscripts with metallic on black paper.

I ordered some black paper from Canson for the text block, used Arabic gold finetec paint mixed with water and gum arabic as my ink (I used three pans of the gold paint...), and a Nikko G nib with a straight pen holder for the calligraphy. I really wanted to use one of my broad tip nibs, but I just couldn't my Uncial letters small enough with it. I used Uncial since that was technically the alphabet/font they used in the Arthurian time period.

The paper was cut down and folded into signatures of three and then I drew out light pencil lines for the text and for the margins. Every single letter was done sooooo slooowwllly because if I messed up on one page there was no way to erase it, which meant I would have to do basically four pages worth of lettering again since they were all connected.

And I did mess up.

More than once.

I think the most heartbreaking mistake was at the very end when I was trying to erase my pencil lines and I just ripped a page completely in half. The tears were real, folks.

Once I finished lettering - which took hours and hours and hours over many weeks - it was time to assemble the text block and sew it. I used gold silk thread I had leftover from Arthur's scarf (which is also used as the backdrop for the photo shoot) to sew the block together and I love how it gives just another little peek of gold to the book.

I painted the end papers in a vaguely floral pattern with the same gold and also some silver finetec paint, glued them all together and put them in my book press and then promptly didn't work on it again from October 2022 to July 2023. Sigh.

But once I committed to getting it done, I asked @swanfloatieknight to help be my accountabilibuddy and make sure I finished it this week. I tested out so many different cover designs, from fabric and thread, to paper, to finally settling on this all over design done by my cricut. Historically accurate?? Nah. I'm about as historically accurate as BBC Merlin.

I tried my hand at gold foiling and that was a disaster so I just used a gold silk ribbon to give the color a little bit more color. Once it was bound, I painted in a triskelion and Aithusa on a double page spread I left intentionally blank.

And it was finally done!

All in all, I'm pleased with how it turned out. Was it an exercise in patience? Yes. Did I learn a lot? Also yes. Mostly that handlettering an entire fic is madness and also this is far too small to case bind, but I'm a stubborn ass and it was happening regardless.

All total, I probably worked on this for about 50+ hours. It was most definitely a labor of love and I'm so happy that it's finally done.

Thank you for inspiring me to take on such a project by writing such wonderful fics, @0hheytherebigbadwolf! And thank you for everyone who reads these long fanARTifact posts. 💛

[ridreamir]

How about some head cannons for blue berry academy students befriending a new student reader who turns out to be a faller? The reader is from our world and does have at least some memory loss.

And so I might have turned it into a fic and not a list of HCs... lemme know if you want me to rewrite it lol -- it was getting kinda long so this might just be a part one of two if people actually like it. If not I'll just move onto other things :p

With the multi-billion dollar project underway to extend Blueberry Academy's underwater campus, there's been an influx of new students lining up to attend the recently founded institution!

As for you who may or may not have crash-landed in Unova not long ago -you with no credentials- there's no way you could have applied to join the wave of incoming students... had it not been for a string of improbable events that tied you up in some top secret plot.

An unpredicted meteor ripped through the planet's atmosphere in the late hours of night. A burst of unusual green-blue energy had not only been visible to the naked eye, but it set off all the satellite radars in the region. And what stumbled out of the impact zone was the most unlikely part of the story.

... Where... were you? Did you... fall asleep again? Opening your eyes, the cold midnight wilderness flashed alight with an eerie aurora floating close to the ground. The dust was settling, but instead of dispersing into the dirt, it'd been floating up back toward the clear starflecked sky. The surrounding field stood littered with broken shards of... something. They'd been decaying into twinkling flakes light enough to float off the ground — and being that it was pitch black, the only light you had to see was quickly dispersing from the stripped soil and clumps of torn up grass. Once they'd burnt the last of their light, it had left you nothing but one last gentle light source. Registering the mysterious shimmering crystal not far from your face, you sat up, with no proper sense of how you'd got there or what it had been doing on top of you. You must've walked for miles with it in your arms before passing out from exhaustion.

...

You're really asleep again. You tried to cry out, open your eyes. Nothing happened. You tried to feel your fingertips, your breath in and out of your nose. Where is your body? Nothing... happened. The shell forming around you kept out the melded together white silhouettes, but it also kept you in. But a woman burst through the doors, and you couldn't make out here face as she yelled at them to stop. No, all you could make out was the familiar pattern of her earrings. "Can't you see that you can't drill through this?!" She pushed them out of the way, standing between you and their stainless steel tools. "You'll do nothing but hurt the both of them!"

. There's some illegible message displayed on the device you hold in your hands. You look down at it, not remembering what you were doing before.

You can't make out any of the details anymore, but you're unable to look away as you hear the sound effect from pressing the A-button. The symbols warp into familiar letters. You suddenly feel a slightly overshadowing presence behind you. At last, comprehensible text materializes.

"And so you have returned with some pretense of self awareness. Not as you were before, however."

You press the A-button again. "More a shell of what you once were... Something I lament to say likely cannot be reversed." A-button. "Nay, you are not the you that I once knew." You... press it again. "..." It does not speak, so you press it again.

And again.

"I am at a loss as to whether I should mourn a past that has faded into obscurity or feel at peace knowing that you are as ever-changing as the world you left in my charge." You press the button one more time, but the voice seems to hesitate for a moment, thinking of what next to say.

". . . "

"Regardless, I have been awaiting your return for a very long time."

.

.

.

Better to get up and put on your tacky school uniform now than fall back asleep and wait to be dragged out from your boring old dorm room by the scruff.

Being taken as a test subject in the most remote middle-of-the-ocean facility felt more like being held prisoner than enrolling in school. Your homeroom teacher, Ms. Briar, had served as a reminder that the muddy flashes of memories you had of being encased in a living crystal were, in fact, real. She seems to know a lot about the creature you woke up holding, but next to nothing about you. While still mildly annoyed by her poking and prodding, you've warily come to accept that her endless curiosity is not out of cruelty. She is... respectful toward you. Not of your boundaries, but she's fascinated with you in a mild manner that does not immediately endanger your safety. Speaking of, as you sat down and slung your bag over the desk chair, Terapagos came tumbling out, clinking clumsily against the floor. "Aaa-" It cried, stuck on its back. Or, well, not it. He. You quickly scooped him up and set him back on his legs. He's looking up at you, nudging your shoe with his head. His unusually large eyes sparkle as he stares with unmatched innocence, waiting for you to bend over and pick him up. Which you do, knowing the pink haired girl that sits a few rows behind you is vibrating in her seat. "Cute... so cute..." She's mumbling under her breath. Ever since you 'enrolled' she'd done nothing but stare at your companion, which he seemed to find uncomfortable if the pulling at your shoelace wasn't enough to convey that fact. "Alright, little guy, alright. I'm on it." You huff, gently plucking him off the ground with two hands. He cries out in joy and she suddenly clutches her heart, falling backward out of her seat.

...

Nobody here talks to you. Not because they haven't tried, but because every attempt has been met with you either pretending you hadn't heard them or getting up and walking out the classroom. All Briar had to do was take the attendance. They couldn't necessarily threaten you into forced bonding with others. No, your real confinement was having to go into the terrarium and complete menial tasks for the equivalent of money just so you could buy food and school supplies. You didn't even want to be here, you just didn't have anywhere better to go. Apparently they just wanted to protect you for the time being, but there's no way in hell you'd believe that's why they sent you into glorified solitary confinement in the middle of the ocean. Everyone else had permission to come and go whensoever they pleased.

No, your only equals here were your few Pokemon friends. The researchers might've claimed to be keeping your friends in the terrarium for the sake of their health and the preservation of the outside world it mimicked, but you'd never believe in their so called pure intentions. No, this was a pretty little garden for outsiders looking in, and a cage too small for ornate living decorations like you.

Terapagos had been your only one constant since day one, and he was wary of most other people. You trusted his judgement the most. Most other people. The lunch ladies were apparently the saints of the Pokemon world. The food staff are genuinely kind, and Terapagos is a fiend for all types of Pokemon confections you're quickly learning. They've told you that most Pokemon have a taste preference, but not your special little pal, though the poor thing had such a tiny stomach that does not match his monstrous appetite at all.

There's one other person Terapagos had once been intent on pestering in at the cafeteria, but was quickly distracted by another helping of berries and whipped cream.

Compliments to the hardworking Alcremie in the kitchen, they were the only ones who could truly keep his menace at bay... You were endlessly thankful for the distraction, anyway. You wouldn't have known what to do if he'd marched right on up to the four of them chatting amongst themselves over lunch. Red haired dude. Pink haired girl. Scary four eyes. Annoying dragon jerk. Everyone knew who they were. Those were the most problematic trainers in all the Academy.

[introverted-scribblings]

The RFA w/ MC who loves sewing

What? A post? From me? You're crazy, there's no way that's happening.

I'm trying to get back into writing for this blog and recently started replaying Mystic Messenger because I want poor sleep 💕 Basically I'm letting my fixation fuel my writing because... the sentence ends there.

Enjoy these headcanons! I thought they turned out really cute~

(FYI: I used fem!MC for these headcanons; girlfriend/wife/etc.)

Yoosung:

He found out in the RFA chatroom when the two of you were talking about games and hobbies.

Yoosung had been excitedly telling you about the armor set he had gotten in his latest LOLOL binge, sending a picture and saying how he wishes he could wear cool armor in real life.

“I can make it for you”

“MC… what???”

And this is where he discovered your passion for sewing and your side-hobby of cosplay

He had a little experience with sewing, he could sew on a button and fix small tears thanks to his high school “home ec” classes, but you’re talking about making entire outfits and costumes from scratch.

THAT’S. SO. COOL.

He is amazed and thoroughly impressed by your talents, even moreso after you send some pictures of your completed works.

It’s amazing that you can make your own clothes, but he’s definitely super impressed with your cosplays. They’re insanely detailed, matching perfectly with the source material. He often says that your cosplays look better than the source material. They’re true works of art in his eyes.

Praises your talents nonstop.

Talks about it all the time to everyone. Every one of his friends knows how skilled his girlfriend is. And the other RFA members know tenfold.

After hearing you talk about your projects, Yoosung decided to join the sewing club at school in the hopes that he could help you with your amazing work! (Not that you need help, he really just wants to participate in something you love)

What ends up happening though is him sitting beside you at the sewing machine and getting lost in your working rhythm. (“Yoosung, are you paying attention? I thought you wanted me to give you tips?” “S-sorry, MC!! You’re just… really good at this… Like magic!”)

There’s no way he’ll be able to catch up with your skill anytime soon, so you compromise with him. You’ll make the costumes, but he has to cosplay with you~

(I have a short fic continuation of this! You can read it here)

Zen:

He found out just before one of his performances.

The costume he was wearing was a bit snug but worked fine in all the dress rehearsals, so he didn’t think much of it at the time.

You were backstage with him before opening night, ready to tell him to break a leg and give the audience a show to remember, when you saw the rip in his jacket.

It was a seam rip behind his left shoulder. Not the worst, but clearly noticeable.

Curtain was in ten minutes.

“Hyun, take off your costume.”

“Jagyia, I know I’m irresistible, but can you wait until after the show?”

“Not like that!!!” >////<

You pulled a flat black case from your purse and opened it, revealing a small sewing kit. You had everything you needed for a sewing emergency. Pins, buttons, snaps, scissors, an assortment of colored thread. And needles, of course.

You fixed the rip and strengthened the seam with four minutes to spare.

Zen asks you about it after the show (which went perfectly, thanks to you) and you explain your sewing hobby to him. Mentioning that you always have your little sewing kit with you for emergencies like tonight.

You show him pictures of the projects you’ve made and entire outfits you’ve designed and created from scratch. A good chunk of your wardrobe are pieces you’ve made yourself.

Of course he supports you! He’s so impressed and is constantly gushing about how talented you are in the chatroom.

Though nothing could prepare him for the moment you said you wanted to make something for him. Looking up at him with big hopeful eyes as you asked if he’d let you design him an outfit. His heart nearly burst.

You poured hours of time and effort into these pieces for him, determined to make this your best project yet. Your magnum opus. (You also sent concept sketches and fabric swatches to Jaehee for her “professional fan opinion”)

When he put it on for the first time, he was speechless. Everything fit perfectly, there wasn’t a part of the outfit that was uncomfortable in the slightest.

And he may be a bit of a narcissist, but he swore that the clothes you crafted made him more handsome than he thought possible. He looked good but never this good.

Your heart was filled with sunshine and warmth when he decided to wear it to an interview.

“My outfit? It’s custom-made. My girlfriend is a very talented seamstress and this was a gift from her~”

Jaehee:

She found out when she called you to complain about the c-fur she was still cleaning up around her apartment.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, Jaehee. I know how bad that can get. I took care of my friend’s cat for a weekend once and I spent an entire month cleaning fur off all my fabric.”

Your fabric?? “What fabric, MC?”

The fabric for your projects of course! Once she got you started, you happily explained your passion to her and how you’ve been making your own clothes for a while now too.

She is also very impressed with your skill and also impressed with how handy it is. You very generously offered to mend her favorite blazer when one of the seams split. You also fixed the two loose buttons you found.

When you two open up the cafe together, you made Jaehee a custom apron to wear. Even going so far as to embroider her name on it along with some decorative coffee beans.

It’s her favorite apron and the one she wears the most while working. (until it has to be cleaned, but then it’s right back in the cafe for her to use)

It gets a lot of compliments too and you’ve actually had a few customers commission you from Jaehee’s (unintentional) promoting.

You since made more clothes for her, even an entire sundress similar to one she had been looking at while you both were out shopping. (You didn’t think the one sold was her color, so you made one yourself that would highlight her best~)

The only issue is the thread and fabric scraps that tend to scatter just as bad as the c-fur… but hey, at lease the end result is more useful! And she can always count on you to tidy your mess when you’re finished~

Jumin:

You mentioned it offhand. Simply mentioning the stitching quality on one of his ties and how you hadn’t made a tie before.

He followed up asking why you would want to make a tie, to which you explained that you often made your own clothes but would love to give yourself a little challenge with something you hadn’t done before.

Initially, he didn’t quite understand. He could easily have any outfit you desired tailored specifically for you, there wasn’t the need to go through all the hassle of making it.

You had to explain that it was your hobby. That, while time consuming and occasionally tedious, you truly enjoyed making your own clothes, and showed him some examples from your closet.

“I’m quite impressed, MC. I’ve only seen this kind of quality come out of trained professionals.”

“I’ll take that compliment. Thank you, love~”

He gives you an entire studio for your projects. While you insist that he doesn’t need to give you so many elaborate gifts, you have to admit that the space is very nice. Much better than working in cramped conditions or on the floor.

While Jumin doesn’t have an interest in joining your craftiness, your husband is more than willing to encourage your hobby monetarily with machine repairs and high quality materials.

Whatever you want, you can have. You’re his darling wife after all.

He even gifted you an antique sewing machine, a vintage 1902 Singer Treadle. You don’t “use” it, but you learned how to just for fun. It’s a lovely decoration of your hobby at the least.

And, yes, you did make a tie for him. Two actually, but you only gave him the second one, insisting that the first was practice only.

It quickly becomes his favorite and he always wears it to important meetings. It’s like having you right there with him for support.

It also becomes quite the talking piece at one of the RFA parties when a member of the Cultured Citizens asks about the brand and price.

“This tie was handmade by my wife and is certainly priceless.”

707:

He already knew because of course he did.

He would often send you (jokingly) ridiculous “orders” with impossible time frames, including:

An iridescent “Statue of Liberty” costume - 3 days

Twenty-seven onesies for ducks - 4 days

A prom dress made of pasta - 3 days

An overnight yeti costume

The two of you would banter about it in the chatroom until someone told you guys to knock it off, it was never not fun.

Whenever you finished a new piece or outfit for yourself, you would try it on and call him while standing in front of the camera in the apartment, asking for his opinion.

The cat-themed overall skirt was the one that broke him. You were just so cute with all the decorated pockets~! And the buttons looked like little cats too! You’re just too precious~

After the dust of the first party settled and Saeyoung had his brother back, you took it upon yourself to make Saeran some new clothes. He was going to be your brother-in-law, after all, you wanted to make him feel welcome.

Of course, it then turned into making both boys some new clothes as you kept thinking of new ideas. Not that you minded, this was your passion after all.

I think Saeyoung would also give you your own room/studio in the bunker. A place where you could spread out without worry. (Vanderwood was just grateful he didn’t have to keep cleaning up thread)

Saeyoung was also happy to help with any repairs your sewing machine needed, or he’d just make you a new one… or three… with some—interesting—added features.

“Saeyoung, dear, I don’t think my machine needs a Ph.D Pepper dispenser.”

“But what if my honey gets thirsty while she works?!”

“...But won’t the sewing shake up all the carbonation? It would explode on my pretty clothes T^T”

“OMG! I’m so sorry!! I’ll take it out right away!!”

This kind of conversation happens regularly.

Eventually, there was one top-secret project that you were working on… one that you made Saeyoung swear not to snoop through. Even going so far as to have Saeran keep an eye out to make sure his brother stayed true to his word. (He did but he whined about it)

The project took a long time and you had to have Saeran help you order the materials in secret.

Saeyoung didn’t like being kept in the dark, it made him uneasy. You assured him it was okay and that you just didn’t want the surprise to be ruined.

He was still uneasy, but he trusted you.

And it was all worth it in the end…

When you walked down the aisle in your handmade wedding dress, glittering and shining like stars in the night sky you both loved so much.

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE! BATFAM W/ MILES MORALES (BUT GENDER NEUTRAL) ! READER

[ PART ONE ] [ PART THREE ]

GENERAL CW/TW: Spoilers for Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. Typical Yandere themes of stalking, violence and whatnot.

PART CW/TW: Reader gets called a beauty (beauty/beautiful is gender neutral fite me).

EXTRA: also uh mind you most of my knowledge on the boys come from reading fics so if i get any of my info wrong feel free to correct me

current status: unedited

summary: reader gets into multiverse related hi-jinx and almost gets their ass broken if it weren’t for a tired, definitely sleep deprived senior catching them. (it’s tim you guys)

Reply if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

WHAT’S UP DANGER

(PART TWO)

“I like tall buildings so I can leap off of ‘em,

I go hard wit’ it no matter how dark it is.”

Turns out being a hero is hard skill to learn. Especially if you were working on a time limit.

You had recently gained the ability to uh- well you didn’t know what exactly. All you knew is that somehow you were at least 5x as strong as you were before and a lot more sticky.

Not to mention your senses were all over the place.

It’s like you could see, hear, smell and feel everything.

You didn’t really want to avoid Damian, but whenever you came across him — or just went within his immediate vicinity. Your “tingles” and enhanced “senses” would flare up and make you dizzy.

Usually it’d only be that bad when there were projectiles or insects around you. You surmised it was probably your powers warning you of the dangers he may potentially bring. Whether it’d be from himself (the heir must have some sort of self defense skills) or his name (you didn’t want to think of the target you’ve put on your back both in school and life in general by being his acquaintance. Jesus [Y/N]. Being distracted by your future and planned failure in academics doesn’t excuse letting that happen. Stupid.).

You were mostly stumbling around with your strange set of abilities until you met this girl named Gwen.

First of all, she was just — incredibly pretty. You couldn’t but just stare at her sometimes and—

Getting back on track — !

After getting some spidey sense feedback loop and ripping off a massive chunk of her hair. You find out that you’re this universe’s “Spiderman.”

And that she, was from another universe entirely.

Even a big sci-fi junkie like you had to doubt her words, but as she showcased her abilities you pretty much went on your knees and begged her to teach you.

The both of you get to work quickly. Investigating how she got to your universe and practicing the use of your powers.

The first part went really well. You even met a few other dimension traveling spider-people (and animal) along the way. After sneaking into a lab, you found out that it was a rich man’s, King Pin, “bring his family back project” that brought you all together. But that his actions were probably going to destroy the fabric of reality if he kept going.

The second part, not so much. Your stickiness was something you just couldn’t control.

Luckily it was winter break and that prevented you from ripping another schoolmate’s hair off.

Your “universe specific” abilities, as the other spider-people called it, like invisibility and bio-electricity only came out at random. Sometimes at the most inconvenient times.

Your webbing abilities were subpar to say the least. Many attempts led to you breaking several bones.

Praise super-regeneration and all

But f u c k did it still hurt.

and it was during one of those web-swinging practice sessions when you fall into the arms of Tim Drake.

Tim was just trying to get some fresh air.

After passing out on duty last night and having to deal with Damian suddenly abandoning his missions for some reason. He decided that maybe it was time for a break.

He didn’t exactly expect to have a young adult falling into his arms during said break.

He was just talking a casual stroll really. In a relatively quiet part of Gotham, he didn’t expect much to be happening much less a pretty/handsome giving him a small wave as they sheepishly laugh at their . . . strange encounter.

“ Hey. ” You smiled at him. Praying to all that is holy that he doesn’t notice the bits of undissolved webs you have littered across your hoodie. Thank goodness you didn’t wear your makeshift mask today. He was going to think you were even more of a weirdo than you already are!

“ Hey. ” Tim replied. Praying to all that is holy that you don’t notice his heart rate picking up and his ears turning red. It was the cold he swears! The cold!

“What’s a beauty like you doing around in a place like this?”

They both ask in sync with completely awkward delivery to boot.

Taglist: @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl

[ PART THREE ]

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Ficfinder finds: The Day the World Broke

TMNT Multiverse Fanfic Summary: When TCRI experimentation rips the fabric of reality open, things get weird. And for four totally regular teenage mutant turtles, the world is about to get a lot more dangerous. It'll be up to every turtle in the multiverse to keep them safe and figure out how to stop the end of the world for all of them.

The Day the World Broke: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is written by @saladmix, who happens to be an excellent writer!! Go show them some support! This fanfic centers around no particular TMNT iteration, instead focusing on one unique universe created by the author, with other iterations interacting with said universe. This fanfic is unfinished, and still updating, so as the fic updates, the post will too!

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Plot is five out of five!! Oh my gosh, the plot for this fic is so incredibly good!! Its seriously intense, like off the charts intense!! Its wild, and scary, and very unpredictable!! Absolutely amazing, totally enthralling, extremely captivating plot!!"

Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Suspense/Mystery is five out of five!! I can't tell you all how much sheer panic I experienced due to the suspense!! This fic has extreme amounts of both suspense and mystery, and its not light either. Very heavy suspense, hinging on life and death!!"

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Angst/Hurt is five out of five!! This fic has so much angst and hurt in it!! Pretty much everything is going wrong. It has extreme mental angst, and lots and lots of physical angst!!"

Fluff/Comfort: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is two out of five!! This fic has completely no fluff, and only minor amounts of comfort in it. Though, I'd say this fic contains less comfort, and more relief based emotions. Relief that the boys aren't dead lol."

Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Emotions Conveyed is five out of five!! First of all, just what the heck. This fanfic is wildly suspenseful, with an EXTREME fear factor!! Think horror, as this is definitely horror. This fanfic is filled to the brim with wildly potent emotions!! Its a terrifying read, filled with loads of triggers, and scenes that will rock you emotionally. I cried a few times to be honest."

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Drama/Tension Level is five out of five!! As stated before, this fic is a horror fic, so its really no surprise that there's a high amount of drama and tension. Pretty much, there's not a calm moment during the whole fic. Even in quiet moments, or moments of rest, you'll be worrying about the safety of the boys. So so much worry and tension."

Triggers: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Triggers are five out of five!! I CANNOT stress how HEAVY this fic is, ok?? Seriously, this fic has some very graphic depictions of gore, death, monsters and body horror, graphic injuries, torture, and even more!! This fic is ABSOLUTELY NOT for the faint of heart!! Its wildly intense, and has lots of triggers."

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Reading) is five out of five!! Beautiful writing, very well paced, highly intense! Its a winner!! This fic is wonderful to read!!"

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Audio) is five out of five!! The chapters are incredibly enjoyable to listen to, as it really amps up the suspense!! Would 100% recommend both listening and reading this fic!!"

Length: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Length is three out of five!! Currently, The Day the World Broke has a chapter count of 20+ chapters, though, as the chapters themselves are incredibly long, its been rated at a three rather than a two!"

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

The Day the World Broke: Chapter List

(Chapters will be added as I rate and appraise them ^^)

(Yet to be added)

[lynzine]

NaNoWriMo Alternatives

If you know what's happening (and has happened last year with NaNo) I want to offer some alternatives that people are working on to keep the event while ditching the organization.

@novella-november

I may reblog this post as I learn more but there are two right off the bat!

If you don't know why I feel the need to advocate for alternatives I will be getting into the second issue (not the triggering scandal last year) below the break.

(Long story short: On top of last year's scandal... they now have an AI sponsor. Which is a big red flag for me and feels like they are looking for content to train their AIs on as well as new consumers. What better place than thousands of unpublished novelists working on completing a novel in a month?)

(PS If you reblog... I don't need details of last year's scandal... please.)

-

Hi everyone, if you've been with me for a while you might know I'm a fan fo NaNoWriMo... The event, no longer the organization. I was wary... but willing to see how new policies and restructuring shook out after the major scandal last year (if you aren't aware, I won't be going into the details here, but you may find them triggering).

It's this second issue that I feel that I can actually speak on... Because NaNoWriMo has a new sponsor... and that sponsor is AI.

When I first heard that NaNo was okay with AI, I was wary but... not too upset. After all, NaNo's big thing for a long time was just "Just write" basically however you had too, whatever tools you need. I know that there are AIs designed to aid with grammar and clarity. And that seemed... if not fine, than understandable. NaNo (for me) is a major source of motivation and I could completely understand why NaNo wouldn't want wins invalidated because they used some kind of AI to help them along. Then I found out that NaNo picked up an AI sponsor and that completely changed the story for me. It went from the people NaNo served... to supporting one of the organizations that might be ripping off writers.

As I've said in the notes of my fics when I reluctantly took steps to protect my work from AIs like ChatGPT, putting my work in an AI is essentially monetizing my work without reimbursing me and other writers and undercutting jobs in writing that people like me truly want. I don't know what this sponsor's actual AI is like. But it is a massive red flag that they are sponsoring an organization that's focused on an event that generates thousands of potential books to train their AI on.

NaNo's official stance is "We also want to be clear in our belief that the categorical condemnation of Artificial Intelligence has classist and ableist undertones, and that questions around the use of AI tie to questions around privilege." NaNo is experiencing a lot of backlash.

I will be hoping that one of the alternatives are up and running come November.

[linonyang]

[19:42] bang chan

pairing: non-idol!bang chan and gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, domestic au, college au

warnings: none

word count: 1.7k words

note: hello i am back! here’s a quite messy and somewhat plotless fic (bc i’m kinda rusty rn in terms of writing rip) that i just did on the spot jhsdfjfadsfa i’m still working on some of my wips so i wrote this for now! i also decided to write this bc i relate with reader enjoying being alone lol i hope you enjoy somehow :DD

tag list: @awooghan @hwangsify @xiaoderrrr @cosmic-railwayxo ​ 

© linonyang - all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

It felt relieving to spend an afternoon class alone after spending most of your morning classes with classmates with whom you had no choice but to talk. To sit on your chairs and endlessly communicate with many of them was so exhausting until the point where you’d jokingly admit that you don’t want to talk to anybody for thirty business days to recharge.

Perhaps, it’s not a joke at all?

You’re finally on your way back to your apartment after spending a few hours walking around the campus, cooling down in the library, and finding something to eat for dinner on your own. You did not forget to buy food for two, since somebody’s waiting for your presence in that apartment of yours.

To be frank, Chan totally understood your eagerness to spend some time alone after your classes. He isn’t the type of person who feels tempted to not attend another daunting set of classes the next day just because he’s overwhelmed. He doesn’t get overwhelmed in public settings easily, especially since he is used to being surrounded by people.

Chan has known you for so long that he understands how you work as a human being.

He always waits for you at your apartment until sundown so he can bring you—in a way better mood, obviously—in his arms. If his last class in the morning finishes earlier than usual, he could grab you away from your friends for a comfortingly silent lunch if you’re not feeling to talk to any of them. He will always understand every time you send a text message that you want to spend time with him instead of other people.

It's really because he knows and understands you so well.

When you push your door open to your warm abode, Chan greets you with a lovely smile and long arms wide open. You drop your takeout food on your desk, walk up to him, and fall down onto him where he is, lying on your bed.

“This feels so good…” you drag your voice, almost feeling like you’re embraced by cotton. Chan chuckles and ties his arms tighter around you. “That project we did almost ended me, I had to buy some chicken wings to celebrate my survival,” Chan hears your muffled voice as you rub your face on his soft hoodie.

Chan traces shapes on your back and grins. “You did very well, love. You really deserve those chicken wings,” he almost cracks up at your choice of reward. “But first of all, why chicken wings?”

You snort and look up. You almost forget to answer him after staring at his angelic face for a few seconds. Fixing your position, you propped yourself on your elbows, your body still on top of his.

“Love, can’t I eat something delicious after constantly injecting myself with caffeine in my blood for the past weeks?” you can’t help but giggle at the sight of Chan sighing in disappointment. “I worked hard for that project! If I slacked off by sleeping all day, maybe things wouldn’t be as decent as what happened earlier,” you tell him. Moving some of his curls away from his eyes, you continued, “The coffee was worth it to some extent, I believe.”

He hums, “I believe I need to monitor your caffeine consumption over the next few days, baby.” Chan raises his eyebrows obnoxiously, “And let you eat more chicken wings instead. Is that okay?”

Your eyes light up at the idea of someone else paying for your food, “Yeah, as long as I’m not the one paying!”

He lets go of one of his hands on your back to gently caress your cheek. “So…” he drags his low voice, eyes glinting, making you chuckle in amusement, “Am I allowed to steal you from your friends for the whole month?”

Chan fondly gazes at the sight of joy reflecting on your face, not minding your last statement. He has been so happy being in a relationship with you. He loves you and your whole soul, and he’d treasure all of the times he gets to see your smile. He would give you the world just to give you the joy you deserve after every slump and hurdle you need to pass through. The world has been rough on you, and all he hopes is that he’s someone you can rely on just to feel comforted and validated.

“They’re going to make fun of me when they’ll know that I will abandon them for you,” you shortly stop there to tease him. Chan interprets this as a no from you, and he frowns. “But hey, I’m going to be with you, and I’d love that more if I’m being honest. So, yes, please take me away and bring me everywhere you want to go,” you finally continued.

Chan squeals and returns his arms around you to embrace you tightly once again. “You’re going to stick with me for a very long time, I’m very excited.” He continues to embrace you and rock you together side to side in delight.

You nuzzle his neck and agree, “But can I do the same stuff after class?”

“Oh, your alone time, you mean? Yeah, that’s absolutely fine,” he smirks, “unless you are okay with a clingy man silently following you around…”

You lightly bite his shoulder in response, Chan yelps and laughs. Your actual answer right beside his ear, “I guess that wouldn’t be that bad, right? If the love of my life is the one behaving like the dog he is, I wouldn’t mind him joining me in my alone time.”

“You’ll never let that dog thing die, aren’t you?” Chan remembers that you’re such a tease, and that’s just how you return the same energy since he does joke around with you quite a lot.

You nod in agreement. “You’re my pet, and I’d love to take care of you. I never knew you could bark like an actual dog!”

“I was communicating with Jisung’s dog, _____! He wouldn’t understand if I speak to him in English,” Chan excuses.

Cackling, you bring yourself up, away from Chan’s arms. “Oh, shut it! You tried so hard to act like a dog, it was cute and funny,” you respond.

Getting out of bed, you reach for the takeout on your table, “Let’s have our dinner in a bit!” You hear your boyfriend groaning and complaining for a solid ten minutes during your whole preparation for your dinner.

When you place the final piece, the glasses, on the table, you feel arms laced around you once again. Chan’s now the one nuzzling your neck, and you can’t help but mumble in amusement, “You are so clingy today, love. Did you miss me that much?”

“I… really do miss you, baby,” he softly spins you around to face him. “And today, maybe I kind of feel the same way as you feel usually, I realized I didn’t have that much time with myself or you today, so I feel like staying with you tonight.”

It is real that birds flock with the same feather. Not that you expected Chan to keep up with the same amount of energy every day, but you know times like this hit him once in a while.

He recharges with you.

You let him stay whenever he wants to be with you for the whole night. Aside from bonding through dinner and dishwashing, you two also get your own peace by doing your own work. It’s a win-win, you once said before, when Chan was feeling clingy like he is right now and both of you are in your own battles—dealing with final exams and projects. You spent the night typing away in your laptops and highlighting a stack of books and ending the day in each other’s arms.

He is so grateful that he gets to stay with you.

You reach for his hand and peck on his tender cheeks. “We’re in this together, I guess,” you purse your lips. “So don’t worry, we have the whole night together as usual. When you wake up tomorrow, I’m still beside you, okay?”

Chan nods and thanks you, pulling the nearest chair for you to sit on. He sits on the chair beside you and lets you put your leg on top of his.

Small acts like this make Chan fall in love with you all over again. There are things that you do that are reserved for him and him only. Those were signs that you’re his and he’s yours.

“Thanks for the dinner, _____,” he mumbles, slowly moving his head on your shoulder. “I’m going to start stealing you from your friends tomorrow, we’ll have lunch together, my treat,” he glances at your face above his. You nod your head and smile in approval, feeling thrilled that you’ll be with him once again, away from many people.

In a world where you get crushed by the weight of demands and pressures, you get to take your time and slow down at night with him. Perhaps you can conclude that Chan being with you hits differently than being alone. His presence is enough for you to feel better, and you hope your own presence can heal him to some extent like what you’re doing right now.

Awaiting by the dark night is the sight of the two of you, snoozing together under the blankets. The skies are pleased with the sight, and they want to give you a night without peril—silence, tranquility, and a beautiful sun to awaken you later on.

When your eyes open, you are welcomed by an adorable snuggling Chan, both arms and legs clinging onto you. You find your phone to check the time, and you decide to give yourself more shut-eye, it is too early to get up and prepare for another exhausting day after all.

Both of you are obviously not ready to face another day, but you two get to return home to see each other, and maybe that’s enough for you to go through the taxing mornings.

[novantinuum]

Which one is knowing, loving, being? Is that one about the blorbo Steven?

Yessss ahahah, this is the one with the Gem Steven design I won't shut up about on discord XD

(thank you for taking my bait and asking me about this fiUSHKFNSUGJH my evil plan worked)

E eeeeee *cracks knuckles* time to RAMBLE! I am so excited about this one, lmaooo. If you're wondering where all my "Crack the Paragon update progress" energy went these past few months, I am so sorry besties- but it got funneled to this project instead. I need to finish this goddamn fic by the end of the year like I need air.

The tl;dr of it all is that this story is my adult human!Steven/gem!Steven/Connie propaganda piece, and also a place to explore my personal take on how Steven works like,,, biologically,,, as a bizarre hybrid of two beings who are fused but also Not Really. Certainly not in the way fusion works for OTHER people.

Mind you, this fic is very NSFW, as will be the snippit I share- so the rest of my rambles will go under a cut. You have been warned.

Okay, so the broad strokes. This one's gonna be 4 chapters-

Chapter one will focus on a recently married 23 yr old Steven heading out to Rose's Room so he can work through some mental bullshit regarding the split he experienced as a kid. That trauma still lingers all these years later, and there's still so much he doesn't fully understand about... about what happened. About being outright cleaved in two. He ends up having the Room conjure a cloud version of his Gem half- the most unfamiliar and alien one of the two, to him- so he can try and talk out his confusions.

Chapter two features Steven nosediving into an obsession over an impulsive kiss he shared with that friggin' cloud version of his Gem half, and one thing kinda just leads to another, and well- said obsession ends with his component halves briefly split apart so they can fuckin' bang to work through whatever crunchy ass emotions they've got all stewed up in there. Progress wise, I am at this part of the fic right now, and I am having a lot of fun making this segment as "emotions and stimuli all mixed together" and intentionally confusing as I can. I am taking the depiction of "split POV" we had in Change Your Mind VERY seriously and literally, because I haven't seen too many writers dare to try.

Chapter three is mostly like, an interlude chapter- it's the aftermath of chapter two, where a confused and sheepish Steven opens up to his wife Connie about what he just experienced. In my head, my version of Steven is VERY demisexual, so he's like... just as "huh" as anyone else about what just took place. He and Connie talk shit out, and then Connie is basically like "baby. sweetheart. love of my life. why the HELL would you rip out your own gem like that, and MORE IMPORTANTLY, why would you ever do that when i'm not here to help you if things went wrong??" By the end of the convo though, Steven extends an open invitation for Connie to join in at some point and enjoy some intimacy as the three of them, both of his component halves and her.

Chapter four is entirely about that precise encounter, both the planning and the actual sex. The broad purpose I have in mind here is to showcase how such an encounter is something that's innately healing for them as a couple, in the way they get to re-contextualize this scenario in tones of love and trust and willful choice... as opposed to the horrid experience of being ripped apart by another's hand. I also just want them to get WEIRD about it, because like. Come on. Steven's half-alien. He (and the organic and Gem who combine to MAKE him) deserves to be weird about himself and the way he interacts with his own sexuality. And you just KNOW Connie would be into that. There is a lot of genital shapeshifting here, and they have a fucking great time.

I have overtly had the extremely general sketch of this idea floating around in my head since 2019, but never had the guts to actually tackle it until now. Now, though... I've actually gotten some practice with writing smut and feel confident in my ability to swing these scenes in the way I envision them, AND I finally have a circle of people who are down to talk about Steven being really goddamn weird about himself lmafo. Like, it's 2024, I'm allowed to ship selfcest if I want, fuck you.

But yes, chapter 1 is already done at 5.3K words, and I've got a solid 7.4K on chapter 2 (and rising.) For my actual WIP share, here is a snippit I recently wrote for chapter 4, working ahead a bit-

“So this is your idea of a big finale, huh?” he says with an impish smirk as he reads the last item on the list, a healthy dose of humor lightening his words. “Both of them fucking like rabid animals in heat as you merely lounge on the bed and watch?” “Oh, shut up,” she bites back, unable to even look her dear husband in the eye as she clunks her head down on the kitchen table, her cheeks burning like she’s destined to crumble to cinders amidst her own personal inferno of runaway lust. But Steven, damn that ridiculous man, won’t let her live this down. Ugh. Of course he wouldn’t. “Now, tell me… how long have you been secretly dreaming of this scenario?” She groans, mumbling her shameful little response straight into the table mat. “Only like… every other night since I saw you fall apart…” His rumbly chuckle— brimming with unquestioned warmth and just a tinge of bashfulness at the sheer risqué inanity of this never-before-spoken revelation— rings loud and clear, coating the whole room in its dense, chocolatey tenor. “What?” Connie whines as she snaps upright, her hands fidgeting on the table in the throes of such excruciating embarrassment. “What exactly’s so funny about that? I’m being very brave and vulnerable about this, you know!” He raises a placating hand, pushing himself through the final notes of his laughter before moving to respond. “Sorry, sorry, I promise I’m not making fun, it’s just— I guess you never really struck me as the, uh… the voyeuristic type?” “Does that… bother you?” she frowns, tilting her head a little. “The idea of me just… watching? I— it’s only a suggestion, we can always take it off, if you—” “No, I’m okay with it. Depending on how we set things up, I think it could be pretty hot. In fact…” Steven grabs for a pencil, and— waggling his eyebrows at her— begins to write one last line on their collective beat sheet. “I actually have a little idea of my own that I think would be fun to try out during this…”

[phanfictioncatalogue]

DanAndPhilCrafts 2024 Masterlist

awake and unafraid, asleep or dead? (ao3) - vvuptic

Summary: Phil wants to take it all back. But he can't.

Or, the inner workings of Phil's mind during the filming of Potato Prints.

title: famous last words by my chemical romance

Conversations of Cannibals (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Inspired by the new DanAndPhilCRAFTS video - some conversations about cannibalism between Dan and Phil.

creativity is nothing without friendship (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan has made Phil a promise and he is eager to prove his devotion. He will carve out Phil's heart and sacrifice him.

But he is also going to make sure that he comes back.

Following canon of DanAndPhilCRAFTS - Slime

do it without hesitation (ao3) - Wraithpinned

Summary: While Phil’s entire adult life was devoted to Him, Dan’s entire adult life was devoted to Phil.

--

Dan grapples with what Phil is asking him to do

euphoric in some strange delight (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: “Your turn,” says Phil, in a part they’ll have to cut out. “What do you mean?”

Phil hands Dan the blade, silver and sharp and bought in a neat set along with one for bread, one for vegetables, one for fish. Phil wouldn’t know this.

“I don’t want it to be me this time.”

finding beauty in the dissonance (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan ripping out Phil's heart for a santanic ritual sorry this is really short idk how to summarize it lol

Based off of DanAndPhilCRAFTS - Slime

UNEDITED CHAOS

hangman (answer me now) (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: How did you get used to the haunting?

Hell's Waiting Room (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Based on the 1733rd danandphilCRAFTS video.

i do not fear bloodshed (if the slayer is you) (ao3) - emsinof

Summary: a poem inspired by the events that took place in the most recent danandphilcrafts video.

Just the Beginning (ao3) - NotAHappyPancake

Summary: Once upon a time, there were these two guys called Dan and Phil, who met on the internet and created this entire world. And now it's time to end it. It's time to start over.

make a pact to each other (got when no one's around) (ao3) - philsbisexuallion (bisexual_lightning)

Summary: There's not much time left. He has to finish what he— no, what they started. That’s why they came to this place.

Never Be Safe in Crafting! (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: It happened again, but Phil can fix it, because Phil can fix everything. Dan just needs to follow the directions.

ominous (ao3) - TsingaDark

Summary: It starts on a Sunday, of all things. Nothing should start on a Sunday, frankly; it’s the one day where one is allowed to fully relax and lie around the whole day. Sunday is not a day to start new projects or change your life, it’s a day of peace and calm. Therefore, Phil notices much quicker than he usually would have that something is wrong.

Sacrifice (painted in the red from our hearts) (ao3) - Lesbianphan

Summary: "There's no fear in my lover's eyes, only trust in Him. Trust in me. I know what I must do: the ultimate sacrifice for Him. I must give Him what I hold most dear, the one thing I'd never part from. I must hold Philip's heart in my hands and offer Him what my lover willingly gave to me all these years ago.

If I love Him enough, my lover will come back to me. Reborn."

a.k.a the dark and raw 'DanandPhilCRAFTS - Slime' fic I was always meant to write.

surely the second coming is at hand (ao3) - ivylakes

Summary: From darkness they came, and to darkness they must return. And Dan is ready.

Or, a rewrite of the final events in DanAndPhilCRAFTS - Slime, as well as an analysis of Dan's internality during those moments.

That Deathless Death (ao3) - trancelover99

Summary: Date: April 1st, 2024. Time: midnight. Dan and Phil have returned to an abandoned cabin to carry out the one last ritual that will keep this demon away forever. But it comes with a price: Phil's heart and soul. With the right words, Dan can hopefully revive him after Phil's sacrifice, but he has other plans beyond that. Will he succeed?

The Craft Fic (ao3) - doctorhowlter

Summary: Dan is in lounge watching the reactions to DanAndPhilCRAFTS when Phil ask him if he wants to celebrate their April fools joke succes. But Phil's definition of celebrating doesn't seem to be that same as Dan's and things doesn't turn out as planned.

The Heart Fic (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Dan let himself fall into a trance, no longer thinking and instead just doing. Dan reached into the wound in Phil’s chest and wrapped his hand around his heart. Phil was already dead, yet the inside of his chest was still warm. Dan swore he could still feel Phil’s heart beat faintly as he began to pull the mass of muscle and blood out of his chest.

Before he had pulled all the way out, Dan paused and then slowly pushed his hand back into the wound. Warm. Wet. Beautiful.

Inspired by DanAndPhilCRAFTS - Slime

The Sacrifice (ao3) - Mysticallykai

Summary: DanandPhilCrafts is back again, with a lot to say and even more to do. We all saw the video, but what happened when the camera wasn't rolling? What was edited out? What if what we all thought was an April Fools prank, was actually very real?

to die by your side (is such a heavenly way to die) (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Despite no words being exchanged, they both know how the other is feeling, and that they are alike in their preparedness for what is about to happen. They understand each other so well that they can work in perfect tandem without issue. A connection so uniquely fundamental that it goes beyond communication as it is understood by the rest of the world. Something private, just for them—and soon, for Him.

you believe me like a god (i destroy you like i am) (ao3) - bunnyslipper

Summary: Tears stream down Dan’s face, mingling with the deep crimson of Phil’s blood, and Phil hates him. He hates that he loves him so deeply, enough to forgive him for tearing them apart like this.

[winteriron-trash]

pinned faq

hi, my name is roman. i used to be a semi-popular winteriron blog, but now this blog is mostly dead. so. rip, gone but not forgotten. but i still get some pretty common questions so here's a one-stop shop for most of them as well as links to the important things.

My Tumblr Fic Masterlist

My Ao3

My (dead) WinterIron Discord Server

Did you write the Tony Stark wifi tower fic?

yes, i wrote that fic! it is by far the most popular thing i've ever written and it will probably outlive me.

I found that fic on [insert site here], do they have your permission?

probably not, no. i have found that fic everywhere. and i mean everywhere. pinterest, wattpad, facebook, instagram, tiktok, mediachomp, and so on. honestly, it's been years and i can't control or chase down every single copy and i have no interest in doing so. i don't love that it was stolen from me (especially on for-profit sites) but it just is what it is. it's a fanfic rite of passage to have your stuff stolen, honestly.

can i do a translation/podfic/write something inspired by one of your fics/posts?

yes! there is always a blanket permission to do any sort of transformative work with my work, especially my older stuff. if it sparks joy and creativity in you, run wild with it. i prefer to be credited, but honestly, i'm just happy to see my stuff still inspiring people.

will you ever write winteriron/mcu fanfic again?

well, you should never say never. but in this case, you might want to say never. i have very little interest in winteriron or the mcu in general outside of nostalgia, and i likely will never write anything substantial for them again. it's sad, i miss it too, but i just don't have that spark for marvel these days. mostly i write dc comics fanfiction.

did you write [insert winteriron fic/post here]?

idk. maybe. probably. i wrote and posted a lot of things. you can scroll the tag on this blog to find all my old posts, some more popular than others. if you think it was me, chances are, it probably was. i got around a lot from like 2018 to 2020.

do you have a tagging system?

i used to but lord if i'm going to use it now. i don't even remember it, so your guess is as good as mine. tbh i just use tags as a place to ramble these days so navigating my blog is about as easy for you as it is for me. which is to say, it's not easy at all. because tumblr's search function is ass. i do know one of my old tags has my deadname in it. you'll probably find it if you look hard enough, but that is what it is.

are you going to revive this blog?

probably not consistently, no. if i have something i really want to say here, i'll say it, but i don't have much interest in maintaining this like i used to. i want to be able to, i miss posting here a lot, i just don't think it'll spark joy for me the way it used to, which sucks but that's just the way things go.

why did you leave this blog?

idk. life happened. i was an 18-year-old fighting chronic health conditions and mental health issues that led to me dropping out of high school so, tumblr sort of fell to the back burner, then got forgotten about entirely. eventually, i lost interest in the mcu as i felt the quality of it took a turn for the worst and i went back to dc, which i'm still into. i read some marvel comics, enjoy an occasional mcu project, but largely i just don't have the interest i used to. it sucks and i miss it, this blog probably kept me alive as a teenager. but now it's mostly just an archive of my past, and i'm okay with that.

can i talk to you/send you an ask/befriend you anyway?

sure, if you want, don't know if i'm good company though. but i'm always open to making friends and reminiscing about winteriron, marvel, and all that good stuff. i've gotta warn you though, tumblr fucking eats my DMs on this blog like no fucking business. i'm regularly fighting it. my discord is devilbonesofmetal if you wanna yell at me there, just say you're from tumblr.

[skyeward-otp]

Okay

Y’all!

I’ve have so many thoughts and feelings about the episodes (Spoilers under the cut)

Like…we finally got an Agathario kiss but at that cost?! Who called that it was gonna be a kiss of death? Who did it? Who spoke it into existence? Like damn the kiss itself was so good and like…was it just me or did anyone else think that Rio almost regretted that it happened? Like there was a part of her that didn’t want to actually do it. But the moment of her going into the ground was kinda beautiful, and loved her little moment of finally getting her purple back. She’s just so damn amazing I love her.

NICKY! That sweet little angel oh my goodness i love him (and it’s nice to have a little visual reference for him when writing fics now, lol) he’s the most precious human being in the world and oh gosh Agatha actually was a really good mom she was breaking the cycle she loved her kid so much when she lost him it almost broke me oh my goodness. (In regards to my post earlier today i hate that i was wrong about being certain that rio helped to raise Nicky, lol)

Also…NICKY CREATED THE WITHCES ROAD SONG?! That montage of them spending time together and singing together and actually crafting the song, oh my goodness. It was really WAS Agatha all along, the title has so many layers to it. But also…that montage of Agatha through the eras stealing powers…those outfits? Damn. She really was expecting Jen, Alice, and Lilia to blast her with magic because it happened every other time. Loved getting the little flashes back to the first episode to really zone in on what was probably going through Agatha’s mind during those moments.

EVERYTHING IS MAKING SENSE!

And then Billy connecting all the dots and realizing that he actually created the road himself and got the others killed because of it. Oh goodness i love joe locke so much he’s so brilliant.

Despite Agatha being dead (rip badass queen) I’m glad that she’s technically still around which means we’re likely going to see her in future live action projects which makes me very happy because i love Kathryn Hahn and Agatha Harkness deserves so much more screen time.

There’s definitely more that I’m not mentioning, but I’m still processing so i may make another post later? Probably not, honestly, lol. But feel free to reach out if you wanna chat, i love makng new friends and talking about shows i love.

(Side note: I’m definitely gonna be posting a new fic either tonight or tomorrow to make up for the fact that we didn’t actually get Agathario and Nicky family times.)

Anywho! I need to go cry inside for a bit because those episodes kinda wrecked me.