#sharing wip because this will take longer than expected

[thedrotter]

goofy wip closeups !! (ft. a mysterious character yall have never seen before in this page he is NOT plastered all over my page he is new here /j)

[ddejavvu]

HI!! I rlly like ur spring fling jake seresin x reader series and was wondering if you already started writing part five?? (no rush, ofc <3)

if you have, would you be willing to share a small part of it was a WIP maybe?? :)) you don’t have to if you don’t want to! just wondering bc I literally love this series w/ every fiber of my being💗🫂

I'm so thrilled to hear that you like spring fling!! as a matter of fact i have started writing chapter five, actually i'm almost finished! but i'll admit it has taken me a long time to write it, and I think you all very much deserve a sneak peek!

The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.

“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”

“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.

“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.

“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly squirmy happens in your stomach.

[regthomas1728]

Confidence is Underrated, Humility is Overrated

That title is misleading. This is to any of the writers who are waiting until they think their writing has to reach a certain level of "awesomeness" before they can share it with others for editing, beta reading, and/or publishing.

You are going to want to share your writing before you write it. I know. I understand. The issue? Your writing looks like shit! (Not really, this is just the critique in each of us telling us we could never be a good author or writer.) You think you can't share it until you've attained damn near perfection!

Let me tell you, this simply isn't true. HOWEVER! If you'd like a few quick and dirty tips to make your writing a slight bit better before trusting yourself to share your story, I've included a few things below.

1.) Take a break from your writing.

Work on another project or don't write a single word on anything. Either way, give yourself and your mind a break. Try a few days or a week for a good cleanse. When you open the document back up, change the size and font of your story then reread it. Go through and make comments or use parentheses for commentary as to what you want to change or fix. If you have time, you can wait even longer than a week! I've done this with a few works, a few times. I've waited a year before touching a WIP. It's up to you.

Another thing: sometimes the person and writer we are now isn't the person and writer that needs to create your story idea. Sometimes, you need to grow and mature a bit before you can touch that idea. That's okay, too.

2.) Know your strengths and weaknesses.

If you know you suck at keeping to one tense or one perspective, write that down. Reread your work with that ONE goal in mind. Don't approach two or more unless you can multitask. Even then, you may miss some and you'll need to be okay with that. You aren't perfect and no one expects you to be.

3.) Utilize Resources

Pinterest, Tumblr, Youtube, and many more will teach you grammar if you're willing to learn it. In fact! I'll hold grammar lessons any time for any one FOR FREE if you want to learn and apply it to your own writing. I have plenty of textbooks and plenty of resources to help anyone who wants it. Pinterest includes hot tips, Tumblr includes detailed descriptions and people who are willing to help, and Youtube holds lessons.

Find what works for you and get down to business. If you really want to improve, you'll take the time to learn. And be patient with yourself when you don't get it immediately.

4.) "The BIGGER the issue, the smaller you write"

Think of the war scene in the first Mulan movie. There's a burning/burnt village int he background and what's int he foreground? That child's toy. A doll. It shows how evil the opposition was, that they could kill a child and leave her toy next to a soldier's helmet. The opposition not only didn't care for the innocent lives they were taking but they were cruel enough to mock our protagonists with a dead child's toy. We saw so much more with that than we ever could if they'd shown the burning village. We could only guess the horrors but with that picture set, we don't have to guess how cruel the opposition is. We know.

This also goes into the "Show don't tell" thing and I'm not gonna get into that right now because plenty of people have. I feel like it's still strongly debated because everyone has their own method.

5.) "There is/was"

I saw a tip saying to search up every instance of "there is" or "there was" and rewrite it. They said it helps "declump" the writing.

Ex. "There is a strike of lightning" becomes "Lightning strikes the sky"

In my opinion, the "there" isn't what's bad. But, you are making the action happen quicker? I don't know if that makes sense. It sounds better because the lightning is actively striking rather than a strike is happening "Oh and it's lightning". Make your action active rather than just happening.

______________________________________________________________

Hope this helps. I have a few more tips but this is a good start.

Keep in mind that the first draft is so the story exists and makes sense to you. The second draft is to make sense to your beta reader/free audience and to make it functional. The third draft is to achieve the goal you set when starting this journey. You can create more drafts than three. Some steps take longer than others.

Regine Thomas Tumblr Arse | With (His) Spunk regthomas1728@gmail.com

[in-my-loki-feels]

I'm very curious about 'Threesome threesome sequel' for the WIP ask game!

I wondered if anyone would take that bait. 🤭 Thank you for the ask!

As I was finishing My Mind's Aflame, I was already thinking about what might happen with these three in the future; specifically how President Loki (who revels in being in charge) would handle meeting God Loki. 👀

What I came up with was a scenario where after Loki ascends, Mobius goes back to the Void to see if President Loki has survived, because he still has a soft spot for broken things, and he still occasionally thinks about that time in the Void. He brings President Loki out but surprise! Our Loki (now God Loki) is also there!

God Loki isn't free of his multiversal duties yet and he doesn't want Mobius to be lonely (and he knows Mobius still thinks of that time in the Void). Mobius does genuinely want President Loki around, but is also determined to get Loki out of the tree. President Loki thinks he can waltz in and boss the both of them around but boy is he in for a surprise! (Plus an even bigger surprise when he realizes these two people might actually care about him. OH NO! FEELINGS!)

This one is more outline than fic but I can share a little snippet:

“You expect me to believe that offer is genuine?” “About as much as I believe this desire to continue being a big fish in a small pond. But it's up to you.” Mobius shrugged and stepped back through the Time Door. It hung open, a yellow-orange rectangle of temptation.  Loki snarled wordlessly and conjured a dagger before diving through. If he was walking into a TVA trap, he wouldn't go unarmed this time.  He arrived in what appeared to be some kind of Midgardian domicile. It certainly wasn’t the TVA. Mobius stood in front of him with his hands in his pockets, a couch and television behind him. His smile widened when he saw Loki; it didn't seem mocking.  Then Loki’s dagger was ripped from his hand by an unseen force and sent flying. Loki turned to see a variant of himself—identical, familiar—standing off to the side, arms crossed. “So it was a trap,” he spat, shooting a glare at Mobius.  “No, but I won't allow threats this time,” said the other Loki.  He was different than when Loki had seen him last, older somehow. He was also no longer dressed like a pet of a TVA. He wore deep green robes, far more simple than anything Loki would’ve chosen for himself, and he had horns where his head had been bare before. Massive, seemingly made of black stone with gold veins running through it, they curved high above his head. Loki would’ve made a joke about overcompensating but there was something about this Loki that put him on edge, made him wary.

From this list. Other answers here.

[weirdbrothers]

Stranger Things Fic Rec

Let me get one thing out of the way: absolutely nobody asked for this. But I love these pairings and stories so much I had to share it with you all. This is heavy on Steve/Billy with some Steve/Eddie sprinkled in.

If you've never read Stranger Things fic, or when you saw this post thought "oh yeah, that 80s kid monster show" I encourage you to give these a try! You don't have to know much about the show besides the bare bones of the plot. (And my ask box is always open for Qs!) If you like angsty teenage boys who are in denial about their feelings and hate their hometown, read on.

Now, on to the porn and depravity!

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Steve/Eddie/Billy

After the end of the world, Billy Hargrove is a mess. But at least he has company.

Notes: Literally one of my favorite fics of all time, I will never shut up about it. Gay threesomes. Angst. A sweltering midwestern summer. Homoerotic undertones that builds to filthy gay porn. The vibes are all there.

Pressure by Yellow_Blue_Books | Steve/Eddie

"You never did tell me your name," he called at Munson's back. The older man was already in the trees when he turned back around and stated his name, eyes bright and grin wide. Steve never heard it; he couldn't read his lips from so far a distance between them. So instead, he watched Munson walk away; the teen, now wide awake, went to sit on the hood of his car to wait for Hopper to show. On that crisp, cold January night in 1985 - Steve Harrington heard the sound of Eddie Munson's voice for the first and last time. He never even knew his name.

Notes: The only WIP on this rec list, and totally worth the wait. Great characterization. So many little tidbits of information that have me squealing with joy. But also dark and grounded in reality.

chokechain by @brawlite | Steve/Billy (and Tommy is there)

Tommy H. invites Billy to a party at Steve's house. Billy expected hot chicks and booze, but when he shows up, there's only the latter. Steve and Tommy teach Billy that in Hawkins, sometimes you just gotta make do.

Notes: When I think of this fic I literally start sweating its so sexy. The fic that got me hooked on Steve/Billy and gay Steve in general. Its so subtle and gritty and grimy and hot. And Tommy is egging everyone on, yet oblivious, just how I like him.

so good at being in trouble, so bad at being in love by @the-copperkid Steve/Billy

Steve's sophomore year, Billy showed up.

Notes: A fandom classic. The perfect example of Steve/Billy getting together in world, and dealing with their feelings (+ porn, because I'm me and I need porn in all my fic).

We'll Go Down in History by @eternalgoldfish | Billy/Steve

Hawkins High takes a field trip to Baltimore to see historical sites and Steve would rather jump out his hotel window.

Notes: So much teenage angst and tomfoolery in this one! A little more lighthearted than others on the list. Gets to that theme in ST that I love: the idle hands of teenage boys are the devil's playthings.

Dom 4 Hire by @lazybakerart

Steve is naked, on his hands and knees, in the apartment he shares with his high school sweetheart for a man he only just met in person five minutes ago.

Notes: From the second I saw Steve Harrington on screen I knew that boy was a sub dying for someone to call him a good boy. And Billy is just the dom for the job. My only complaint is that I wish this was longer!

Maybe we're something uncool by desert_dino | Steve/Billy

It’s only noon; Billy knows neither of them have work that evening, and their shitty gen-ed biology lab was cancelled. They’ve only been hanging out for an hour, and maybe Billy isn’t quite done fucking around with Harrington yet. Maybe he’ll indulge him.

Notes: Cocky Billy is what the world needs! Great banter and dialogue. Just a snapshot of what I imagine their afternoons would look like, and the teens of Hawkins would be like "why the fuck are they always hanging out?" totally oblivious.

slipping through by sightetsound | Steve/Billy

It was the weed, and the pilfered whiskey from Steve’s daddy dearest they passed back and forth. It was actually how Steve’s eyes caught the moonlight. How his mouth moved when he spoke, and how it curved on a grin Billy would call relaxed when they were alone. Admitting as much felt too much like giving ground, and so it was the weed and whiskey.

Notes: Really bittersweet, heartfelt, and sincere. A different kind of pace for this pairing.

You Get Too Close by @trashcangimmick | Steve/Billy

Steve sits at the back of the bus on the way to a basketball match in Gary. Billy Hargrove sits right across from him.

Notes: Be for real- when we saw that basketball and shower scene we were all hoping it would go in the direction of this fic. Gives me the vibe of an 80s porno in the best way.

Reflecting on the Longest Wavelength by @trashcangimmick | Billy/Hopper

Billy’s heat hits early. Jim Hopper happens to find him before anyone else does. 

Notes: This pairing is a little rouge, I don't see it often and its hard to pin down for me past all the basic tropes. I really like the A/B/O world-building here and find myself returning to it.

[hyperbolicreverie]

❄️ share a WIP snippet? 👀

Gladly! This one is from the post-Dressrosa WIP I mentioned in my last post. Here are two snippets:

Zoro’s eye goes wide as his arm dips under Kikoku’s unexpected weight, and Law almost congratulates himself on startling the generally stoic man. He knows from experience that swords like those Zoro favors are much lighter, and while Kikoku is by no means the heaviest longsword out there, there’s still definite heft to her. “How the hell are you swinging around something this heavy with those stick arms of yours, Torao?” And good feelings gone. Bastard. Law very much wants to protest that a history of severe illness that directly affected his musculoskeletal structure as well as being in possession of a devil fruit that consumes a stupid amount of energy that might otherwise go to his body are perfectly legitimate reasons to not have passed whatever arbitrary strength expectations are rattling around inside the other swordsman’s green head. That there were several reasons why different people develop muscle at varied speeds and levels of effectiveness. A hissed “I do not have ‘stick arms,’” is what comes out of his mouth instead, because being around the Straw Hats makes him dumb. “Yeah, you do,” Zoro says absently, but he’s not really paying attention to Law or any embarrassing outbursts he may have just indulged in, focusing instead on Kikoku and acting much like a kid in a candy store. Law guesses he hasn’t had a lot of experience with longer blades. Well, aside from the one that put the scar on his chest. That one was pretty big. “Does she bite?” Zoro asks suddenly, as Law starts walking off. “Kitetsu bites.” “Kikoku? No, she doesn’t bite,” Law says, turning back briefly. Zoro just nods, still giving the lion’s share of his attention to assessing the nodachi in his lap. If anyone were to ask him later, Law will deny the admittedly shit-eating grin that steals over his face. “She might scream at you, though. Hope you weren’t planning on going back to sleep.” He more feels than sees Zoro’s head snap up behind him as he continues to walk away, ignoring the shout of “What do you mean, scream? Oi, Torao!” that comes from behind him. It’s fun being on the other side of the Straw Hat stress equation, he decides. He should do this more often.

and

Law takes a deep breath. His fault for alluding too much, perhaps, but Luffy’s got the bit between his teeth now and quite frankly, Law is far too tired to deal with the full and complete spectrum of Straw Hat’s stubbornness. “My full name is Trafalgar D. Water Law.” He’s not sure what he’s expecting. Recognition, maybe, of something shared. Complete obliviousness, perhaps. With Luffy, it was impossible to predict. An advantage in battle, certainly, but not when you were trying to have a conversation with him. What he gets is the most put-upon sigh he’s ever heard come out of the man’s mouth, and a look that actually appears to be somewhat annoyed. “Torao,” Luffy says, almost plaintively. “Your name did not have to get any more complicated.” Well. Now Law’s just offended. “It’s not complicated,” he protests. “Your name is almost as long, and you don’t seem to have any trouble shouting the entire thing from the rooftops anytime someone asks who you are.” “Yeah, but—” Luffy says, as if it were obvious. “My name is my name. Of course I know how to to say it, Torao. It would be really weird if I couldn’t.” He squints suspiciously at Law. “Besides, it’s all easy sounds. Half of yours sounds like you’re gargling on rocks.” He shrugs. “Torao is easier. Saves time.”

[cherrychilli]

18+

All of my WIP's are on ice for the moment because ✨writer's block✨ Have some saucy HC's about sharing an apartment with Steve because wouldn't that be nice?

🍒Morning sex before heading off to work? definitely, but on those days Steve's running a little late, you're in the kitchen bagging up something for him to eat on his way to work. He'll sneak up behind you once he's dressed, hands inching up to your breasts, kissing down your neck, teasing you for thinking that he'd leave without getting to fuck you first. You end up bent over your kitchen table getting pounded until your breakfast gets cold and when the two of you are done and you slump exhausted into a chair he'll zip up, kiss you all sweet on the cheek before he plucks the bag you'd fixed for him and tell you that he can't wait to take his time with you when he gets back.

🍒Cleaning the house in your underwear is a great way to rile him up. Acting all innocent on your hands and knees, pretending to scrub at an imaginary smudge on your floors just to give him a view of your ass perched out for him. Or just being naked around the apartment in general because why not? It's fun, it's freeing and you're bound to get fucked when he sees you walking around like that.

🍒Showering together all the time. All you have to do is strip and step inside and he takes care of the rest, soaping you up, probably lingering on certain areas a little longer, lathering your hair with shampoo and when you're out of the shower he'll offer to rub lotion on your legs but to him this is all just foreplay because of course his fingers are going to wander up your thighs and between them. You're definitely going to end up having to shower a second time. He also likes to hide the clothes you left out on your bed when he comes home to find you showering alone just so he can play dumb when you come out dripping in your towel before he playfully tugs it off you for some fun.

🍒During movie nights he likes to keep you close. He's got an arm draped over your shoulder while watching a movie on your couch with his hand dipping into your shirt to hold your boob. At first it's just a comfort thing, something soft and warm to hold but eventually he'll start squeezing it and teasing your nipple, working you up as you lean closer and palm his bulge over his sweatpants. I also think he'd be into having you cockwarm him during the movie. He'd keep you still in his lap when all you want to do is bounce on his cock, teasing you and telling you that if you're good, he'll fuck you when the movie's over.

🍒He's into exhibitionism because I say so. He loves fucking you on the balcony when it's late at night or really early in the morning and you hope your neighbors are still asleep. He'd also fuck you on the rooftop of the apartment building if you're feeling extra risky.

🍒Your neighbors might not love sharing a wall with the two of you. A few noise complaints seems likely. This'll start a sort of competition between you and Steve to see who can make who cum the loudest and each resultant noise complaint is just a tally mark to keep score of who's winning. Also, competing to make the other cum first and assigning chores to the loser to make things more interesting around the apartment. Like loser has to make dinner or do the dishes or laundry or something like that.

🍒If you're going out to meet friends or head out for an event you're almost never on time because the two of you have to have a quickie that ends up being anything but quick before leaving the apartment.

🍒Walking in on each other masturbating when one of you gets back home earlier than expected. If Steve catches you when he comes home early from work he'll make you touch yourself while he watches, probably jerks off at the same time. Some good ol' mutual masturbation for sure.

🍒I couldn't think of one more. Just imagine getting to fuck all over your shared space with Steve - like every room and against every possible surface - walls, floors, tables, chairs, sofa, the fridge, in the closet idc. Sign me up.

[aristocratic-otter]

Hey y’all! I’m here, despite a shitty flare up of my fibro this week. I appreciate all of your art and writing so much, you have no idea! Thank you to : @emeryhall,  @monbons, @thewholelemon, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @best--dress, @blackberrysummerblog,@rimeswithpurple, @Iamamythologicalcreature, @artsyunderstudy, @theearlgreymage

Here’s one from each of my official WIPs

From Saving Simon Snow: 

 “What did he add?”

She thinks for a bit longer, but then shakes her head. “I don’t remember. We’ll have to ask him.”

“Ask me what?” comes a voice from above our heads. Baz is there, looking sleep tousled and heavy eyed. A knot of longing forms in my stomach and I suddenly want to drag him back into our (our!) bedroom and tumble him back into bed. I restrain myself, because I don’t really understand where Baz and I stand right now, and because Penny’s sitting right next to me. 

From the Heart in the Well

“Simon,” I breathe, “[Redacted] is one of the fae! Fairy kind disappeared centuries ago!”

Now Simon’s smile drops away. “Yeah, well tell him that. At least I know why we’re here now, though. It’s so stupid—you’d think it’d be safe to eat a loaf of bread someone left out on their porch.” 

Now I’m shocked and annoyed. “You mean you ate a fucking fairy offering, Snow? What in Morgana’s name is  wrong with you?

From Snow Fox: enter Premal

“Word has it,” Gareth drawls, as he strolls into camp, “a passel o’ Tory boys is lookin’ to sign up with the Snow Fox. Turning their coats, as it were.”

Penny lifts a skeptical brow from where she is sitting in the corner of my tent. She’s been poring over what we’ve gathered on British movements for the last several hours, and her eye has developed a bit of a twitch. “Says who?” she asks.

“Says Premal Bunce,” Gareth says. “Ran into him at the tavern.” 

From TikTok Dancer: 

.I frown for a moment about the freckles. How does he get enough sun on his arse for freckles? He’s got no visible tan lines…

I shake my head at my woolgathering. He’s probably a devotee of tanning salons, that’s all. Though it’s odd, I think, as I trace an outline of the constellation Leo by connecting some of his many markings. 

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

He’s not looking at me now that he’s said his piece. His jaw is locked, and his arms are crossed over his strong chest, which is heaving from exertion. He’s staring out over the horizon with a fixed look on his face. Probably pretending I don’t exist. 

And I don’t. I don’t exist to him now. And it’s my own damned fault. 

From Cupid’s Shield:

It’s 12:30 pm on February 14th, and the day has been so unseasonably warm that most of the school has taken their luncheon out to the Great Lawn to picnic in small groups. Penny and I are no exception.

I spent my entire morning in a pleasant glow of happiness, thanks to my mysterious Valentine sender. 

I think, whoever she is, she’s grown more skilled each year, because this morning’s card looked worthy of being displayed in a museum. I couldn’t do more than gape at it, for a long moment. I think I also wanted to delay touching it, because the feelings trapped inside have become more potent as each year has gone by. And it’s started to really bother me that someone in the World of Mages loves me so much and I’ve got no notion of who she is. It feels unfair, unbalanced or something. 

From my COBB project:

Penelope Bunce and Christie McCoy take the second room on the left without comment. That means, since Rhys and I are sharing the first room on the right, that Simon Snow and Baz Pitch are left to share my old room, the second on the right. 

I don’t know if the two men expected to have rooms to themselves, but there’s definitely some odd subtext to their interaction when I offer them the final room with a silly flourish. They don’t laugh at me. They don’t even look at me. Instead, they’re eyeing each other intensely. Snow looks uncertain for the first time, and Pitch looks…if I didn’t know better, I’d say he looks scared. 

What’s there to be scared about in a bedroom?

Baz

And now we’re roommates again. Lovely. 

I’m also itching to start another WIP because I had a super angsty (meaning fun!) idea. But I must be good…if I finish Heart in the Well, I’ll let myself start it. The only teaser I’ll give now is it starts with an (apparent) major character death 😉 . 

Tags and cheers to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @messofthejess, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @larkral, @confused-bi-queer, @j-nipper-95, @facewithoutheart, @nightimedreamersghost,  @thewholelemon, @youarenevertooold, @nausikaaa, @ileadacharmedlife, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii,@you-remind-me-of-the-babe,@hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @prettygoododds, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello, @wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart, 

[ladykailitha]

Star Child Part 7

Yes, you’ve read that right, I am back with the rockstar AU. I finally got part 8 done (this one ends in a bit of a cliffhanger) I’m still not sure where this story is going other than knowing the ending. That I’ve had since the beginning. So I don’t know how regularly this will update. Plus I have three other WIP that need to be worked on as well. But I hope this chapter was well worth the wait.

We meet Steve’s bodyguards and Eddie has an encounter of the dangerous kind.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

***

Steve arrived in LA three days later, a day before he needed to be in the studio. Which meant that he would have a day to relax in his pool before being locked into the studio basement for the next two months.

Okay, so that was an exaggeration but that’s what it felt like the last four albums. When he got to his house, he found the most unlikely of pairs waiting for him. They were both in black suits and button downs. His was a light green and hers was pink.

He was tall. Taller than Steve by a lot. His dark skin contrasted with the freckled red-head next to him. Her long hair was braided to the middle of her back and she was short, barely coming up to Steve’s chin.

Janice got out of the car. “Steve, these are your new bodyguards. Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield.”

Steve looked at them blankly. “Yeah, okay.”

Lucas caught his look and laughed. “I’m just here to pull her,” he jutted his thumb at Max, “off bad guys to limit the liability.”

Max just grinned.

Steve huffed out a laugh. “So how is this going to work?”

“They will go out with you whenever you leave the house,” Janice explained. “So be sure and call ten minutes before you leave, so that they can arrive. If you have a schedule for the studio, please have your manager forward it to us. Schedules are great for us, but bad for you, because people can pick up on it and stalk you.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. “I just want to let you guys know that I’ve had trouble with my security spying on me for the label, so if anything gets back to them that I don’t want them to know, your ass is grass faster than you can blink.”

The other three shared glances, but all nodded. “You have our discretion,” Janice said.

Steve nodded. “I go into the studio at 10am, but I run every morning at 6am.”

Lucas and Max shared a glance.

Lucas sighed. “I guess I’ll be digging out my running shoes.”

Steve chuckled. “You think you can keep up?”

Lucas laughed. “Just try it, pretty boy.”

*

Steve let himself into his house and sighed. It wasn’t one of those white, sterile monstrosities that other celebrities tended to go in for. It was warm and welcoming and everything his parents’ house never was.

He immediately went for the pool, opening the sliding door to his backyard. There on one of lounge chairs was his favorite person in the world.

“Robin!”

She looked up from her magazine and grinned. “Steve!” She jumped up and gave him a hug and big kiss on the cheek.

“You ready for this?” she asked gently. “Just two more months and you’ll be free to be you.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah I know.”

“The label called me yesterday,” she said leading him over to the chairs and sat him down.

“What did they want?” Steve asked, wearily.

“They’re pissed,” Robin said. “They were expecting you to take longer for the five albums and are threatening legal action.”

Steve’s eyebrows went up. “Holy shit!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve contacted a good contract lawyer,” Robin said, putting her hand on his knee. “We meet with her tomorrow.”

Steve sighed. “I didn’t do anything wrong. They wanted five albums, I gave them four platinum selling albums and about to give them another. They can fuck off.”

“I think they were expecting you to take longer than six to eight months touring,” Robin said.

“I don’t like performing, everyone knows that,” Steve groused.

“I think people might disagree with you after seeing the Love Loud concert,” she said, sing-song.

He laughed. “Okay...let me amend that. I don’t like performing pop.”

Robin laughed with him. “I don’t know why they tried to box into that. Think of how much money they would have made if they had given you creative freedom?”

Steve shook his head. “I know, right?” He got up. “I’m just gonna change into my swim trunks and be right back out.”

She nodded. “And don’t worry about the contract. I made sure it was air tight in our favor.”

Steve grinned.

*

Eddie was lying in bed at their hotel in Austin, Texas, thinking about Steve. He was always thinking about Steve, so that wasn’t new. But was new was that he was thinking about writing a song about Steve.

An actual fucking love song.

Corroded Coffin had dipped their toes into the love ballad pool a couple of times in the past when Eddie got infatuated with a boy. But this felt different. This felt monumental. And he didn’t know what to do about that.

So he did what he always did when he needed to relax, he called an Uber and got decked out in finest threads. Then he asked the driver for the best gay club in town. Usually Eddie asked the boys to go with him, but he wanted to lose himself in the music for a bit.

He wasn’t stupid. He let them know where he was going and set up an Uber for them to be taken to the club later.

When Eddie got to the club, he knew it was his kind of place. There were two crossed guitars behind the name saying “Upside Down”. The bouncer at the door was a tall, thin man that didn’t look like much, but Eddie didn’t doubt that the man could toss the most determined drunk.

The man barely glanced at him before making a check mark on his hand and waved him through.

The inside was wicked cool. It had Tesla coils and plasma balls that were red, giving off the effect of red lightning hanging from the ceiling.

The dance floor seemed to pulsate with sickly red cracks.

Eddie pulled out his phone and took a couple pictures sending it to Gareth with a message to get their asses down here.

Usually he would loosen up with a beer, but he wanted to get to that dance floor. He pulled his hair back and slipped into crowd that was practically hopping with the music. He let music take control and began to sway. He let his mixed up emotions about a certain teen idol go and just listened to the beat.

The music washed over him like waves. He wasn’t sure how long he was out there, but he began to feel fatigue in his bones and thirst in his throat, so slipped back out into the club proper.

But before he could make his way to the bar, two large men directed him to the VIP suite.

Sitting on the dark red sofa was a gorgeous man in a white suit. He was slim with sharp cheek bones, his blond hair was shaved on the sides, the top swooping over his left eye artfully.

Eddie was impressed. Not his taste, even if he hadn’t been in the middle of the biggest crush of his life. But very easy on the eyes.

“Hello,” he greeted, unsure why he was here in the first place.

“Hello, yourself,” the man greeted. His voice was smooth. “I was surprised when Gorgon said that the Eddie Munson was in my club. I just had to see for myself.”

Eddie jutted his head to the door. “Gorgon the door gargoyle?”

The man smiled. “Very good. He’s named thus because he is my stony-eyed guardian.”

Eddie half shrugged. “Yeah, I can see it.” He looked around. “It’s a nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thank you,” the man said, smile never faltering. “Please sit.”

He patted the sofa next to him, but Eddie opted to sit across from him in a black velvet arm chair.

“You have me at disadvantage,” Eddie said, tapping his fingers on the arms. “You know who I am but I don’t know who are.”

The man grinned. “And if I wanted it that way?”

Eddie moved to stand up and the man held up his hand. “Please stay. I’m Henry Creel.”

Eddie settled back in his chair, wiggling, a smug look on his face. “Nice to meet you, Henry.”

The smile never faltered, but Eddie could tell that it took on a hard edge. He wasn’t behaving the way Henry wanted him to. And that made him the bitch.

“How are you like our fair city?” Henry cooed.

Eddie half shrugged. “So far so good, I’m in town for another day, but I’m not a tourist, I ain’t got time for site seeing.”

“And do you have to rush off?” Henry asked leaning forward, elbow on his crossed legs. “I mean you could send your band in the tour bus and then you could take a flight out the following day. You could be a tourist for one day.”

It was something that Eddie had thought about doing that day with Steve. Go to the children’s hospital, take a flight to Chicago. But he couldn’t do it. His band was his family, other than his uncle, Wayne.

“That’s sweet of you to offer,” he said with a grin. “But I take this gig very seriously. Maybe in a month or so when the tour’s up, but until then...”

Henry’s smile slid off his face for the first time. “I don’t believe it was a suggestion.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth. He knew that the two bodyguards were behind him, blocking his exit.

“I’m not some pet you keep in a cage.” He put his foot on his other knee, making a four with his legs. “I also don’t play well with others.”

Henry licked his lips. “I have my ways. You’ll come to me. They always do.”

Eddie steepled his fingers together and pressed the forefingers to his lips. “You went about this all the wrong way. You immediately asserted your dominance. I hate authority. Oh so much. If you had been soft or even a bit on the simpering side, I would have been putty in your paws. But no...”

Henry scoffed. “I don’t beg.”

“And I don’t heel.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

He planted both feet on the ground and gripped the arms of the chair. “I also told my band I was coming here and to join me.” He looked at his watch. “About twenty minutes ago. So they’ll probably be here any minute now, if they aren’t already. And since you didn’t know they were coming, you didn’t think to tell Gorgon to keep them out.”

Eddie held up one hand and three fingers. He counted down on his fingers. Three, two, one...

“Eddie!” Gareth called out.

Henry’s head snapped up to see the rest of the Corroded Coffin boys standing behind the two guards.

Eddie cocked his head playfully. “Why don’t you tell Castor and Pollux to let my friends in and we can lots of fun the five of us. Or I could just go. This wasn’t as much my scene as I thought.”

Henry waved and the guards parted like the Red Sea.

Eddie stood up as Jeff, Gareth, and Brian came rushing into the room. He let them know he was okay.

“Until next time, Henry,” he called over his shoulder.

***

Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14 Part 15  Part 16

Tag List:

@bejeweledbaby @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @ohlook-afrog @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever @gleek4twd @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @novelnovella @celtrose-ish @artiststarme @plasticcrotches  @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @anaibis @nelotegreitic @steddieassheg0es @abstractnaturaldisaster @scheodingers-muppet @tiny-enthusiast @yes-im-your-mom @thegingerrapunzel @milf-harrington @avacrebs @gregre369 @raisedbylibrarians @reverseteehee @lillys-weird-world @deadlydodos @runyousillydetective @justrandomfandomstm @piebook67 @clumsywriter @donttouchmycarrots @fiore-della-valle @idkareallyreallygoodname  @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @ravenpainter @ellietheasexylibrarian 

[dirty-bosmer]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @skyrim-forever @lucien-lachance @thequeenofthewinter @kookaburra1701 @mareenavee Thank you <3

Tagging: @gilgamish @atypicalacademic @elavoria @dumpsterhipster @wispstalk @miraakulous-cloud-district @ladytanithia @viss-and-pinegar @nuwanders @sylvienerevarine @paraparadigm @rainpebble3 @inkysqueed @throughtrialbyfire @orfeoarte @weirdisme @fenverflymm (<- forever keeping up with ur usernames lol) and whoever else has something to share this week :D

Back on my Slither and Writhe brainrot. A snip from chapter 5.

An hour or so later (who could tell, really), Sylawen returned to the large indent in the ground she’d come to claim as her bed. She wondered if the ransom letter had ever made it to her parents, if they were gathered around the hearth having sent off the money as demanded, praying to their disparate gods for her safe return. And if it hadn’t? Surely by now they’d know she hadn’t made it to Whiterun. Yes, of course. Surely. With a groan Sylawen curled inward, reverting to a primordial grub-state, hoping some pale, filmy membrane would sprout outward from her spine to enclose her, and she prayed to whichever of her parents’ gods would listen that when she woke up, either the world would be sparkly and brand new or she would. “... done wasting all my time with this, Thrynn,” came Garthek’s voice from the floor above. “No word yet, and it’s been weeks. I ain’t waiting around to hear back about this damn rendezvous.” “C’mon, it’s not been so long. Not sure if you’ve bothered looking at a map, but Falkreath is several thousand miles away from—” There was a thud and a stumble, the sound of wood scraping against wood. Someone had been shoved against a chair. “Don’t smart mouth me, boy,” Garthek hissed. “Now, I’ve wasted too much damn time on this plan of yours, and for all we know, her family’s sending mercs instead of money. We need to get back to the Pale, been south for too long with nothing to show for it, and now the damned Jarl is hounding me for tribute if we want to keep working in his hold. Says he needs a cut, and it’s sure as all hells’ ain’t coming out of my pocket.” “I know it’s taking longer than expected,” Thrynn said, his voice strained, “but her family’s good for the money.” “That’s what she told you? Shit, I’d tell you my papi was good to lick your ass if I thought it would keep me alive a day longer.” “Look, it’s slim pickings here. Few caravans come through the pass this near to winter, and scouts say the Legion’s been gathering near Helgen, so we’re pretty much limited to—” “Nah, we ain’t limited to shit. We’re going north, Thrynn, back to the camp, and we’re not bringing your little elf bitch with us, so get rid of her.”  “Garthek—” But Garthek didn’t reply and as his heavy footsteps stomped out of the room to an inaudible distance away, Sylawen realized Thrynn was left alone upstairs, alone with his orders and his bone-handled knife.  She bolted up. From above came the sharp creeak, creeak, creeeaak of the floorboards and his steps moving closer to the basement hatch. He wouldn’t. She sunk her hands into the dirt beneath her as if to find a root buried nearby, something to grasp onto, to ground her. He wouldn’t. He can’t. Creeak, creeak, creeeaak. There he was, right outside the hatch now, and she could hear the rattling of the iron rung as he grasped it to lift. The rusted hinge croaked out its late lamplight dirge because for all it knew, this was the last time it would be opened, and once it shut again, it would remain forever closed.

For whatever reason the fact that Thrynn had a history as a bandit has remained embedded in my brain, and if there's anything I know about writing fic, it's that I have to cram in all the random NPCs I can.

[ekwolfwriter-blog]

WIP Zutara Month Challenge: Scarf!

Finally! I can Finally share something that I have been holding off for a while!

Ever since the Live action (Be it good or bad or however you see it, I personally thought it was good and need to talk about it more, but any who~), I - like any other Zutara fan - fell in love with the scarf scene. I watched clips of it and it just just hits in the feels!

But... for the praise of it, I do personally feel like it could have been a bit longer or fleshed out, at least with the scarf and the moment that they met. I honestly thought there was a scene cut because in one scene Katara is facing one way, Zuko is right behind her, but then she is directly facing him. So I am fairly certainly something was cut, but that is okay.

Because if gave me this snippet! Enjoy!

Katara in her hurry to find Jet to get answers left her both on high alert but open to any prying eyes. Eyes that seem to recognize her from anywhere in his travels.

Zuko saw her from afar and can tell she is in a hurry. Maybe to find something for the Avatar. He needed to follow her. He pulled his own scarf over his nose to keep his face from being discovered by her. He knows she will recognize him otherwise.

~~

Katara glanced around for any signs of Jet in the crowd, bobbing and weaving like she was ice dodging in the south again. Dodging people was no different. That was until a cabbage cart cut her off. She staggered a moment as she bumped into a stranger that she did not expect to be there. A tall, strong stranger from what she can tell. A male from his hands that braced her fall. And he was warm, extremely warm.

Katara is quick to pull away from the stranger that surprised her and looked up at him. He was wearing light colored browns and white fabric would not draw attention normally. However, everything except for the right side of his face was covered. As if to hide something but his right eye was still visible.

Enough for Katara to notice the color of his golden eye.

They shimmered like the sun on the water at sun rise. Or as she noticed in the real world, gold that had melted in a pool of flames. They looked at her softly before pulling away and adjusting herself, trying to look anywhere but his eye. “Sorry,” she managed to say. “I am not used to big cities.”

Zuko wanted to say something. He could feel his words on the tip of his tongue, demanding to know where the Avatar was and that she would take him to him. But his mind was stuck on how blue her eyes were. And how soft she was in his arms, and the chill of the south did not seem to leave her after being miles from her home. She seemed anxious; the crowds seemed to put her on edge.

Zuko recalled their village in the south, and how much smaller it was from this city. He understood better than anyone how scary and nerve wracking it could be to miles away from home and yet developed the sense of how to navigate the city. He needed to say something but when her eyes returned to him, staring right into his soul for some reason that he lost his ability to think clearly.  

He opened his mouth and finally said: “It’s nothing. Just be careful.” His voice was lower than usual and muffled to keep her from hearing his voice, and a low rasp of his voice came through the fabric on his face.

Katara blinked as she heard this stranger speak, and a chill ran down her spine. She wanted to say something else, but she suddenly saw Jet with Smeller Bee. She looked at him and nodded curtly before excusing herself to hurry after them.

Suddenly, Zuko’s mind finally caught up as he realized he was going to lose the waterbender and his clue to the Avatar. He reached for her but missed her arm. He had the scarf in his grasp, but he is not cruel to use a scarf to choke someone. But something else happened.

As he had the scarf fly from his fingers, one of the strands caught on his nail and arm brace before it freed itself from the tug of her pulling it close. In that second of it caught on him, Zuko could feel a shiver down his spine. He paused as he looked at his finger, the pinkie finger specifically, and felt some kind of lingering tug in his nerves. His breath stuck in his throat.

Zuko gripped his hand before he pushed down that confusing rush that sent his heart and mind a blaze to continue his mission to follow her. Ignoring the raging fire in his heart.

~

 Zuko managed to find Katara talking with some bushy haired mess of a man, lanky, but still has some muscle on him. Certain a heart throb for anyone, Zuko will admit to himself as he could see why she was in a rush if she was trying to meet him. He wondered if they were about to meet for a date, feeling jealous for some reason.

However, that idea was dismissed as their voices and body language looked like they were arguing about something. Zuko wanted to inch closer to hear but he knew he would be seen easily. It did not stop the raging urge in his blood to get that man to back away from her. He could see she was tensing up at his remarks and looked ready to cry but determined not to as she threw the scarf down and hurried away. The man looked at it a second before reaching to grab it before the second person with him urged him to hurry, making him forget about the scarf.

Zuko knew he needed to follow Katara, but he could not leave her scarf behind for some reason. He managed to see where she was going and when the two other people left, he quickly grabbed her scarf and stuffed it in his vest. Not sure why he had the urge to do it, but maybe it would prove to be useful for him.

~~

Challenging the Avatar in the Earth Kingdom’s territory was definitely not Zuko’s brightest idea. But he definitely regrets it as he saw his uncle basically surrendered himself to let Zuko escape. He knew uncle could take care of himself normally, but to he surrounded by the guards like he did, Uncle Iroh was good as captured and would be sent to the dungeon. Zuko cursed under his breath as he realized he had to find a way to save his uncle. Even if it meant losing his chance to capture Avatar, he would not lose his uncle.

He hurried through the crowd and tried to find anything to hide his face in case any of them saw he was the true culprit. Suddenly he reached into his vest and found the scarf that the waterbender had before. He looked at it a second, standing still a moment as he looked at it more. Out of all the things that could have fallen out of his vest or on his person, this should have been it. But it was not.

It stayed for some reason. This blue scarf stayed and Zuko was not sure what to make of it or why in the deepest part of his heart that this made him happy that it stayed. Lapis blue eyes flash in his mind as he looks at the scarf and seeing how worried she was. Zuko wondered if she was okay in all of this or if she might have gotten captured by the Earth Kingdom too.

However, he did not have time to think as the crowd kept pushing and people were starting to notice him standing. He huffed and began to wrap it around his head and face, hoping it would help him keep a low profile. But in Zuko’s heart, he cannot stop the beating of the fact this scarf stayed with him making him wonder if this was fate or just dumb luck. And hoped some of that would help him save his uncle.

Hope you enjoyed and more snippets to come!

[stolitzsings]

💖, 🖋 and 👨‍👩‍👧 for the ask game! (I probably got at least one of the emojis wrong but hopefully they still make sense 😂) - @blitzwhore

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Can't believe you're gonna make me think of something nice to say about myself 🤣 I've been told I have a very "lyrical" style of writing, and sometimes I'll write a sentence or paragraph that flows really well and just Hits. I love those moments when I feel like I've really nailed it at a word-for-word level.

👨‍👩‍👦 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic?

Most people in my life know I do writing of some sort, but I'm pretty vague with the details lol. I only talk about writing fic with irl friends who also write/read fic (and I don't tell most of them that I write smut, just bc I know it isn't their jam). I told my therapist I write "character studies," because what is smut if not horny character analysis? 🤣

🖋 Post a snippet from a current WIP

Putting this one under the cut!

Ok I was a little nervous about sharing this because it's from a longer AU I've been toying around with, and historically I'm very bad at sticking to longer projects. But regardless of what I do with it I had a lot of fun writing this scene of M&M tormenting Blitz lmao

Blitz could feel his face heating up. “He isn’t— It’s not like—” Fuck, he was losing this one fast. “Okay, so maybe we’re boning or whatever, but it’s just a casual thing, you know? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” Moxxie raised an eyebrow. It was almost impressive how smug he looked. “Who said anything about dating?” “I think he just did, babe.” Okay, now they were getting on his nerves. He could feel his spines starting to bristle.  “Look. It’s just a convenience thing, ‘kay? He gets to have his bad boy fantasy, and I get a reliable fuck who I know won’t steal my kidneys while I’m asleep.” It wasn’t like Stolas would ever really consider a relationship with someone like him. Disowned or not, he was still a royal. And that was fine! Blitz didn’t want anything complicated, anyway. Fucking was easy. It was comfortable. It was all either of them was looking for.  “If you say so, sir.” Moxxie had somehow dialed the smugness up to eleven.  Blitz rolled his eyes and walked towards the door. “I’m firing both of you. And I’m keeping your shares for today.” He was pretty sure Moxxie started to say something in response, but he was out the door before he heard it.  He let himself stew as he made his way down to the parking lot. “Looking for excuses,” for fuck's sake. They were hired killers! What did they expect? He was going to get injured sometimes. And it only made sense to go see Stolas, who knew more about this shit than any of them did. Besides, a quick fuck sesh was good for you, or something. Boosted your sero-whatever levels. Got your blood pumping. It was basically healthcare, anyway. Talk about a bedside manner, he thought to himself, grinning. He made a mental note to use that one with Stolas later. He'd think it was funny.

“C’mere, B, let me take a look at that scratch for you.” Millie had opened up their first-aid kit and had just finished bandaging a shallow cut on her thigh. Blitz looked down at the wounded arm that she’d gestured to. It wasn’t serious— an annoyance, more than anything. He shrugged. “Eh, that’s okay. I’ll just have my guy take a look at it.” Millie eyed him skeptically, like she was trying to catch him in a lie. “You know, you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with this mysterious “guy” of yours lately.” Moxxie looked up from his paperwork with a conspiratorial smile. “You’ve been seeing him for everything, even minor injuries. Almost like you’re looking for excuses to pay him a visit.” Oh great, the famous M&M tag team. “What? No, I haven’t.” Even he knew he sounded defensive. “Sure looks that way to me.” Millie crossed her arms and perched on the edge of the desk so that she and Moxxie could give him the double stare-down. Cute. “Are you sure that medical attention’s all he’s been giving you?”

Thank you for the ask @blitzwhore! I'm still answering these prompts if y'all are curious 😊

[devsgames]

i've been thinking about a thing for a while, how come i feel like game developers shape their games a lot based on player feedback and requests, whereas it isn't the case in other artistic mediums? like if you were to be doing a visual artwork, you wouldn't stop at the sketch and ask ppl to look at your lineart and say what shapes are good, what colours should go where, or how a background should look... right? while in game development i feel like it's more common to make a demo or a wip and actively ask people for feedback beyond just playtesting for bugs and unintended effects and whatnot... am i wrong about this observation, or is there some reasoning for it? ofc this would depend on things like whether ur game is a commission piece or if you're aiming for commercial success...

I see where you're coming from; On one hand games aren't exclusively art but rather a blend of consumer software and art, and the software aspect works against the art aspect in that sense. On the other hand I'd argue that games aren't unique with respect to actively seeking feedback.

Games sit at an intersection of art and software both in their production and representation, and software is typically viewed as tool where changes are expected to be made in order to improve it (e.g. fixing bugs, improving features, streamlining processes). If a traditional artist wants to change something about a traditional painting they'd have to like...re-do that part of the painting and call everyone who previously saw it back to the art gallery or something, whereas software pipelines have empowered changes through just uploading a new build for users to see. I think games are viewed a bit more like software so they're just obviously just implicitly easier to update than traditional art forms, but also that they're going to be revisited again and again by the end user, as opposed to something like a painting which is usually only viewed occasionally at a gallery. I think in that respect games are just sort of a more 'flexible' medium than some other ones.

Games also take like...way longer to make on average than a painting or piece of art on average, and typically with any art the more time you spend on it the more you want to validate your assumptions lest you find out it actually sucks. I'm sure if a painting took 4 years to complete the artist would be checking with other people to ensure that their vision isn't way off-base, because that's a lot of time to spend on one painting only to mess it all up. Because of long and resource-intensive production times, things like crowdfunding and Early Access exist in order to preemptively secure capital to ensure the rest of the game can be made (because games are EXPENSIVE). This - for better and worse - also means that devs have to include consumers as part of the production process, lest they have invested in something that doesn't meet their standard.

However I generally think 'video game exceptionalism' is pretty ridiculous in almost any conversation, and I'm against the idea that games do almost anything exclusively that other mediums don't or can't. I don't often believe that is the case.

For example, there's people who commission artists and are given WIPs of the piece as it comes along, and are within their right to ask and tell the artist to change things, re-do shapes, and so on. Art commissions and patrons have existed on this relationship basically since art has existed. I've done mural work and the process is similar, sending owners the WIP of the piece and asking for corrections or feedback, and WIPs or plans of works are often shared with the local community to ensure the mural meets the standards of people living in the area who aren't even paying or it. In the case of commissions they're usually the exclusive financial contributor to the piece, which isn't dissimilar to an investor or publisher telling a dev to change an element of the game either, and could equally apply to early access or crowdfunding contributors. There's also movies which do preview screenings of films about to come out and adjust them based on the feedback of the viewers, which isn't dissimilar to how demos or betas work on a conceptual level and I understand this is a fairly common practice in film. I think any medium that's intended to be sold usually has some element of review within the process, because everyone wants their product to both be good and sell well.

This being said I think one thing games culture has done is uniquely distorted players into thinking that that's some sort of...consumer 'right' that they have to demand change, despite the fact they are not personally and exclusively paying the artist for the development of the work and ultimately are buying a product that is already completed. I won't elaborate on that here because this reply is already long, but I have often found that the loudest and angriest voices are the ones who are actually the least invested in the final product.

[rewordthis]

Episode 17

Right, ok, let me be salty for a moment at Gege for making me believe that Sukuna is a heartless fiend that has absolutely zero care in the world.

He was so freaking excited to see Uraume, man! Did you hear him properly? Did you? I never expected his blasé ass to be so damn happy from literally the bottom of his heart about anyone and anything other than bloodshed!!!

And then he goes off to save Megumi because he has business for him. Like… can you please not be so all over the place, King? I know that you need Megumi for your agenda and that was the sole reason you performed RCT on him, but now I am curious why you wanted him. Is it because he’d make a good candidate for something? Because you only realised halfway into the battle that Makora was able to adjust to your CT. And pal, was I looking at a Sukuna that truly loved the fact that someone (something) was able to see his technique. See him. I’m 100% sure he’d drag the battle a bit more just for kicks if it didn’t have an immediate effect on Megumi’s life. And that was actually terribly honest of him, saying that if Megumi had indeed summoned Makora back in the detention centre then he’d really have bid farewell to this world. Hahaha I sure love him, for that aspect of his character. He’s not afraid to admit his opponents worth or his worthlessness (caused explicitly by his meat-suit) so far for that matter… 😎

Ah, but you see… I am very, very , very curious as to how he’d react in case Uraume gets killed. Bonus points if Gege has the balls to do it in front of his eyes. 😈

And Megumi. Megumi saying sorry to Yuuji because he was going to sacrifice himself to perform the ritual… 🫠 Why are you like this, child? I love the little details that come up in his character. And the fact that Megumi and Nanami share the same MBTI type is just… pfff~ the cherry on top, ok? Because why did I ever made Nanami in one of my WIPs say the same thing? Why? Why are we so predictable, Gege?! 😩

Also, now that I think about it, what did Sukuna do with Haruta? 😗 He said that it was a good thing he saved him, but I got the sense he was referring to his CT. Could it be that Sukuna hacked his technique, too? Like he did with Jogo? Hmmm… didn’t seem like he did in that very moment but maybe at some point? 🧐 And on that note, I’m also contemplating the way he spoke that incantation during his battle with Jogo. I always thought that the box was a means of censoring but in the anime he really mouthed ‘hako’ aka box. Well, considering how accurately an anime can replicate the way something is pronounced that is… after that, the kanji for ‘fuuga’ is the kanji that means ‘to open’, but is also used in other meanings as well like ‘starting’ etc. However, and you can totally call me stupid or paranoid, the first thing that I remembered the minute I heard it was the name of Maya from Saint Beasts. ‘Fuuga no Maya’ had the power to manipulate and control ghosts, which considering how interconnected and vague almost all of those meanings are, could potentially also mean that Sukuna commands the ‘spirit’, or like I had mentioned in a previous post the subconscious that is ‘jujutsu energy’ to open up to him. Well, this is a stretch, but somehow it feels very possible?

By the way, Yuuji’s eyes burning red when he changed back made me think that he’d go full berserk mode but baby boy seems to have had so much rage in him that he just snapped and decided that that’s it; he needs to die and take Sukuna along in Hell. He must definitely believe he can’t handle this beast any longer. Because those black-hole orbs just weren’t Yuuji’s eyes anymore ok?! He’s gone crazy right now. He’s checked out and that is the one thing Gojo tried to tell him he should not do! Jujutsu sorcerers need to keep levelheaded, Todo said the same thing, in order to be able to summon their full strength when they’re fighting. Please, Gege don’t make my kid lose himself any more than this. Don’t drop on him all Hell, all at once! Give him a moment to breathe. Let him meet up with someone that will calm him down enough to realise that he should not waste his energy without a care.

Megumi despite all odds is safely at Shoko’s hands…

Nobara as far as we know is ok…

Nanami should fucking go back and receive treatment because I don’t know what that man is trying to do by going down there in this state… I mean, you know there are special grades in the station, love! You know you can’t really compete with them if you already faced such an awful ‘defeat’ by one that didn’t even stick around to finish you off. Where are you going?! Why are you going? But you’re going because you care, huh? Because you want to make sure everyone is alright. To protect them…. Because one way or another, you believe that the only one who can save everyone is Gojo and you need to help him out because you are the one qualified enough that’s left to help. Stupid! Have you never realised that Gojo trust you to be the first after him?! That he considers you second only to him?! Have you only ever looked at him through those stupid glasses, idiot? He trusted you his students! His biggest secret when he needed someone to take care of Yuuji — the resurrected vessel of Sukuna — the boy that every single higher up wanted dead by all means. He believed you to be his ally. His little minion! He trusted you with the future of the jujutsu world, even if you considered him just a self-centred and indifferent individual, he still wouldn’t want the world he loved and thrived into to be destroyed! He trusted you�� because you were you! Why are you acting like you have a fucking death wish?! Why are you doing that?! Don’t you care how much disappointment you’ll feed him? Or maybe that’s your revenge, for being the kouhai that gets teased all the time… Tsk tsk tsk. You got too caught up in your sense of duty, Nanami and that’s not going to end well(yes, I know. It’s been splattered on my feed for a year now…). I hate you. Actually, I hate that you’re so… proper on your everything. Be a little more disobedient, damn it! Why are you a little sarcastic prick only with Gojo but never to anyone else? I bet if he’d told you to “go down to that platform”, you’d first come up with a snarky comment and then go because he’d force you to… Jeez~ 😑

Why my 57 heart… 🥺

[astromechs]

💧 for the WIP game

💧share something romantic/hot from your WIP so! i realized that everything i'd written recently was sad! but i didn't want to leave you hanging, anon, so i... wrote an entire 1k drabble from scratch in about the past hour and some change, just for this? and now that this is in existence, i'm sort of thinking of expanding on this modern au. anyway, without further ado: (and also now on ao3!)

It shouldn’t make Cassian feel anything, honestly, when he wakes to the sight of an empty bed beside him; that’s just life, and he’s an adult who knows better than to expect more than what a situation has to give.

There’s a heaviness tugging at him now, though, as his eyes linger, as a hand reaches out before he thinks to stop it, smoothing over sheets that are no longer warm. A heaviness, like the smoke left in the air when a fire has burned itself out on its embers, like a sense, in what remains, that something is missing. It’s stupid to think that, to feel that, after just one night, and with a woman he barely even knows beyond the name that she’d given him (Jyn Erso), but —

Even within a second of locking eyes with her, much less actually being in her presence, something had felt different. It hadn’t been in a way he could really explain — but after so many years of drifting aimlessly, it’s as if she’d pulled him to shore; it’s as if something in him had woken up, as if some part of him that had never actually returned from the war had been kickstarted back to life. And when she’d kissed him, when her body had been pressed to his and he’d known nothing but that heat, and the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard, he’d known, without a doubt, exactly what had been missing.

But it doesn’t even matter, anyway, does it? Because she’s gone. She’s moved on with her life, same as he should do with his — and there’s more than enough to move on to today; he might not be physically going into work until the middle of the afternoon, but before then, he still needs to carve out some time to continue to adjust the new menu, and soon enough, his phone will be ringing.

Exhaling a long sigh, he stretches, beginning the whole meticulous process of starting out his day in a way that’s least likely to aggravate the old back injury that will never quite heal.

That’s when the distinct shrill of his apartment’s smoke detector begins to ring in his ears.

He freezes in an instant, heart pounding, fingers twitching to reach for a weapon like they still always do, even more than a decade away from any warzone. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath again, for his brain to come back online enough to steer him toward an actual plan of action.

There’s no actual smoke that’s immediate or obvious, but the scent of burning wafting through the air guides him down the hall toward the kitchen with a purpose. Is there some kind of electrical thing going on? Had he forgotten to unplug the coffee maker at some point yesterday, and now an outlet is sparking? He doesn’t think that he had, but those are the only potential explanations his brain can produce.

And those come nowhere close to guessing the actual one: Jyn, standing in the kitchen, fanning one hand over her face as she drops one of his pans (which he can tell, even from this distance, is charred) down onto the counter with the other.

Cassian can count the number of friends he has on one hand, and every single one of them knows this: his kitchen, as well as all his pots and pans, and his set of best knives, aren’t to be touched. He keeps his home as ordered as his workstation — and he takes pride in that. He should be annoyed at the sight in front of him; if any of those friends had done this to him, he would have an earful for them later.

Somehow, though — he isn’t annoyed. Maybe it’s the way that when Jyn creases her brows, her whole face seems to scrunch up right along with them; maybe it’s the way that her hair falls loose and unkempt to her shoulders, or maybe it’s the way that she’s standing there in one of his shirts, and it’s so big on her that it practically goes down to her knees.

Maybe it’s the glint of recognition in her eyes when she finally turns to face him, the hint of something soft that’s there even through her scowl, even through her shrug when she says, probably unnecessarily, “Tried to make breakfast.”

No, in a surprising turn of events, he isn’t actually annoyed at all.

Actually, a smile threatens to break out on his mouth as he crosses the kitchen, only coming to a stop when he’s close to her. (And the damage. All things considered, though, it isn’t that extensive or devastating; the charred pan is one that’s lived almost past its usefulness, anyway, and he has much better sitting in his cabinets.) It threatens, still, as he tells her, placidly, “That was thoughtful.”

The crease in her brows only seems to deepen as she regards him, silently, for a time. Then: “You’re laughing at me.”

“Hm.” The hum is as noncommittal as the expression he tries for on his face — an effort to continue to keep that smile under wraps. He loses, though; he’s not sure he’d really had a chance of winning this particular battle in the first place.

Besides, the smile that mirrors on her face in turn, and the huff of a laugh that escapes her, isn’t something he’d want to miss.

There’s so much that he doesn’t have it in himself to be happy about; happy is hardly even a word that exists in his vocabulary. But for whatever it’s worth, he finds himself… relieved that she’s still here.

“Why don’t we order something?” He reaches a hand for one of hers, pulling her closer. Leaning in until his lips are practically touching her ear, he adds, “There are other things we can do while we wait.”

Without letting go of his hand, Jyn pulls away with a grin, hoisting herself up onto an empty spot of counter before tugging him back toward her and crashing her mouth into his.

[heartstringsduet]

Thanks for creating this Weekend WIP ask @welcometololaland . Guess who's not just wide awake at 5 am and half-blindly misunderstanding this is not a ask game but a fill-in thing? OOPS. SORRY thanks for tagging me @rmd-writes @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom For Writers

1. WIP List: First Aid (Lying fools trying to fix the other)

Let Me Part 5 (D/s verse) TK turning 30 collab with @strandnreyes New Year's Day (meeting over and over on new years) Fathers (daddy issues the fic) 5 things Carlos isn't good at Christmassy short?

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest? First Aid. 120k that might be cut down or...expanded? but like 100k for sure will end up published.

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest? See above. Want to take some time away from more than 50k projects after this. Good luck Michelle.

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

Right now TK turning 30 is a wonderful reprieve because it doesn't really have a plot and I love written character deep-dives. But also, seeing the finish line of First Aid really made me sit down and enjoy writing it again.

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

Ugh don't want to be a one-trick pony but First Aid has a lot of things that intimidate me. Like making both of them recognizable despite some very different circumstances for them. But also keeping all plot-points and the pacing and the OCs consistent and in line? UGH.

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why? See above. Added pressure for me thinking no one will like it because it really does have flawed characters and a lot of lying and back and forth and drama baby drama. Maybe people won't like the finished thing as much as the snippets. Maybe I will be disappointed by the response.. Maybe maybe maybe

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why? For longer fics or fics that mean much to me I do ask betas and they are TREMENDOUS helps and just a joy to me. I am in awe of all of you, taking the time to help make something shine more. <3 Still considering asking someone to sensitivity read First Aid but feel like 120k might a bit too much to ask of someone. So maybe I will ask for feedback once I update instead and hope I don't offend anyone and am open to criticism. Or maybe if you read this and want to be a sensitivity reader particularly for representation of Latino characters, would love that <3

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block? Oh some have been on hiatus more like. like the 5 things Carlos can't do or the Fathers one. I really like what I have there so far but then other projects get in the way. First Aid definitely had some writer's block moments so I wrote other things like Let Me in between.

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

Well, First Aid has a few OCs actually and none of them totally the ones everyone will love. But I do like writing Arturo, as a cousin to Carlos, even if he definitely won't be liked much.

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

Let Me series for sure. That's just where the 5% sexual frustration I feel a year goes lol.

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

First Aid is like a dark pool of angst. Whoops. Let Me isn't without its fair share of hurt/comfort though.

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)? Fathers. I try to be very close to the source material to explore the relationship of TK and his father and Carlos and Owen through the lense of Carlos and how it changes over time.

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)? My weaknessss. I guess First Aid though. Trying to do some of New York justic,e but ultimately won't probably.

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

Well for the sheer length and plot and time: First Aid.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why? See above and see my doubts about First Aid. 😶

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

I WISH. I wish I dreamt about people other than my former high school friends?

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't? The new part of the Let Me series deals with grief and self-harm in a very specific scenario of being in a relationship with Dom/sub dynamics. I think that's fascinating and I wanted to write that part for a while.

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour? Did i mention the angst part? But I guess 5 things Carlos isn't good at

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process? Yes! TK turns 30 is actually about so many relationships TK has outside of the romantic one. I LOVE that. Since I have more experience with friendships than even family ties, and deep-dive into my own psyche way too much, I think this one is really challenging and fun.

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

I ave like 10k minimum of First Aid that is all different versions of the characters and scenarios that make no sense anymore. Also, coming up with 5 fun things Carlos can't do wasn't that easy. he is TALENTED. I tag @decafdino @ambiguouspenny @carlos-in-glasses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @lightningboltreader @noxsoulmate @chaotictarlos @louis-ii-reyes-strand @carlos-tk @ladytessa74 @freneticfloetry @orchidscript