#so maybe more writing in-between art downtime

[gz-missfit]

A little something about what I imagine the aftermath of the prison break to be like, and why those 2 basically vanished for a few days.

Gotta love the platonic do not separate soulmates that can not live without each other no matter what!

20 Hours. Or maybe 10. Or maybe 5. Or maybe 40. If he's being honest Pac lost sense of time a long time ago after they left prison. And he didn't care too much about it either if he was being honest, huddled in a quickly set up safe room below the murder mystery arena with reinforced walls and blankets he collected with a quick run-through of the arena, in front of him curled up his best friend and soulmate. His own breathing was heavy and carried exhaustion with it into the air of the small cramped room, as his eyes carefully analyzed each movement his best friend made in fear of another nightmare ripping the hybrid out of his dream as anger and despair of the failure from the escape left his mouth with curses and yells. He counted 5 times so far, each being as terrifying to watch as they sound and each time he was there. Full focus on the other as he calmed him down, synchronizing their breathing and carefully lulled the other back to sleep. He was waiting for the next one, each twitch of the still slightly blood stained fingers sending a shiver down his spine, each stuttering breath making his own hitch as the anxiety ran through him, each little movement of the others eyelids making Pacs own eyes widen as he scanned his friend for more movement that could indicate waking up.

He was exhausted and saying it like that was an understatement, his whole body burned with the soreness of the treatment the guards gave him as well as his constant muscle tensing through anxiety. His knees protested the cross legged position he had taken on so he could be close enough to quickly help Mike in case he shot up after a nightmare again and his back ached as his body lulled forwards and his head connected with the others shoulder. His body going numb as his mind was drowned with white noise due to his utter refusal to finally sleep.

Forever's voice is what temporarily ripped his mind back to reality, the harsh realization of noise making his eyes sting with tears as a pounding headache carried through his skull. He doesn't bother to raise his head as he hears his close friends footsteps above him, he doesn't bother to move when his ears pick up the sound of his son's lighter footsteps alongside those of the long haired blonde. He didn't want to call out, and if he was being honest it was mainly due to not wanting to fear that he wouldn't be able to in the first place. So he didn't bother trying as he heard the noise of two warp stones followed by the silence that told him the arena was empty once again.

As he buried his head deeper in his friend's shoulder as a feeble attempt to get rid of the headache that had rushed over him he could feel the other stir, his own body tensing as the anxiety made his muscles scream achingly. He was barely able to raise his head as he managed to catch the attention of the green eyes he knew better than anyone else, he stared patiently as he watched wave after wave of emotion carry over the still slightly puffy from crying eyes which had been shut for so long, and once he realized that the glaze of sleep had left Mike's eyes and he was now staring back, Pac gave a weak smile as his own eyes barely managed to stay half lidded.

He felt hands engulf his face as the eyes of his friends were drowned in worry and he got a small scoff of annoyance in response to his delirious giggle.

"You need to sleep Pac" Mike's voice was rough, vocal chords obviously strained from the yelling earlier and the initial outburst that had knocked him out for this long in the first place.

"I know". Pac wanted to say more, explain why he even stayed up. How he heard Forever and Richas earlier. How he watched over Mike cause that's what they've done since they were kids, Orphans who had no one else to fall back onto but each other. How he needed to be there for Mike cause the only consistent thing they've had in their life's has been the other. But his voice was already barely above a whisper, the silent crying that shook his body while his friend was asleep at his side having strained them so far that he could barely use them.

Mike's look softened, he wasn't surprised to see Pac awake. They've always done this for each other, been there to comfort through nightmares and make sure the other could rest well even if it was at their own costs. He sighed as his own face finally relaxed from a worried scowl into a soft smile, he carefully let go of his friends face, hands guiding the other to lay down as Pacs face contorted into pain from his muscles screaming at the movement and his knee giving a loud pop as a response to being moved after God knows how long.

With Pac now settled at Mike's side the latter chuckled "God we're fucking bad at this" his voice was heavy with sorrow and failure as Pac raised an arm to slowly poke his side, his eyes now landing on his friend who was very obviously almost fully ready to fall asleep at any second "yeah. But at least we're bad at it together" Mike could do nothing but chuckle pained at the statement as he watched his other half finally drift off to sleep.

They may have failed, but they still always have each other to fall back onto. And as Mike watched his friend with the same attention and worry that the other had done for him previously he relived their past in his brain. Finding comfort in the way that no matter when or where. They won't leave each other.

They couldn't leave each other.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hey, steph! how are you, like, genuinely? not the small talk. i wanna listen

Hey Lovely 💜🖤

I want to apologize for putting this off for so long... which should be a clue as to how I am actually doing.

Honestly? Not good, but I'm trying my best. It's been... a time. Will put under a cut for those who don't want to read about the tagged items.

TL;DR – my real life is a bit chaotic, and I hide a lot from y'all because I REALLY try not to be negative here since my blog is where I come to be happy AND because I am a very private person, but I try my best to just keep going day to day as the chaos settles down slowly.

I've got some good things coming though, so I hope a week's rest next week when I'm off (and will probably take a break from here too) will reset my brain.

Work has been insane, and is most of the cause of my mental distress for the past few months. From Easter until Canada Day Weekend at my job is lovingly referred to as "Silly Season" simply because of how on-the-fly, balls-to-the-wall our workload is until summertime downtime officially begins for us. Without disclosing too much, it's basically non-stop, long hours for me until one of the 3 break weeks we get during the this long stretch happens where, incidentally because of the nature of my job and the team I work on, it actually gets BUSIER for us.

It actually ended earlier than we expected this year (yesterday) and we'll be "quieter" until the end of September now. See an opportunity, I actually took next week off between the two long weekends because my mental health has taken a severe hit and I'm having trouble just... enjoying things? I'm haven't gamed or drew in a few weeks, and blogging and writing feels like a chore. I literally just come home, file this blog, reply to one or two asks, and then go to bed, and do it all over again the next day. Day in and day out, for 3 months. On weekends I have to force myself out of my apartment because I KNOW I will sink lower if I don't leave.

On top of that, my brain has convinced me that literally everyone hates me: friends, coworkers, family, you guys, my damned plants. I just feel very alone these days and... I'll be real here, I've almost abandoned this blog a few times in the past few months. I feel like I make fic lists that no one reblogs or likes and tell me they're all shit. I post my art and I barely break 20 notes. I write something and I get maybe 2 likes. I can't really answer any thoughtful asks because my mental state's been in the shitter for months. I desperately want to reply to the few sexuality asks I have and I physically can't. Being on my computer – after working ON a computer for my day job for 12 hour days everyday – feels like too much, so I try to limit my time on the blog now too.

I just try to keep carrying on, encouraged by the once-in-a-blue-moon testimonial ask I get thanking me for still being here. I thank YOU guys for reminding me that people still like coming here.

Stressed about money and food and rent just like everyone else, and just getting frustrated at other things.

And finally, my uncle (my dad's brother and my godfather) hasn't been doing well health-wise, and he's being moved to assisted living next week. His health has been declining since Easter, so it's been a bit of worrying time for relatives.

Having my therapist helps a lot. She talks me through a lot of my complicated feelings, my sense of self and ways to cope with my anxiety and stress. I'm talking to her again next week, so no worries, gang. As I said, I just keep on keeping on.

Some positivity though:

I booked next week off to try to just... recenter myself. To forget about everything and TRY to get back to doing the things I love. I will probably take a break from this blog as well during that time to limit my social-media time. It's not ideal but I need a break from my computer, I think.

I go to the gym a lot more these days, which has helped with the seething annoyance I constantly have at work. Usually feel better after it.

And because of the gym and getting out more, I've been slowly feeling better physically, better than I have since before 2019. The break from work is for the mental health, LOL.

I'm getting my hair recoloured next week. Can't afford it, really, but I just REALLY need to feel better about myself again, and I always feel so different when I colour my hair. I was doing so good for awhile. I want that again.

Anyway, I'm sorry to bombard y'all with my complicated mess of a brain. I really do appreciate you asking, so THANK YOU. I rarely get asked in real life if I am okay because I keep very private due to past people betraying my trust. And I don't like seeing people unhappy, so I feel if I tell people about my problems, then I feel I am a burden, so I just... continue existing.

Thank you for letting me be a burden just this once.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Maybe a TADC X reader who loves either drawing or crocheting?

If you can’t it’s totally okay and I hope you have a good day/night <3

TADC cast x reader who drawing/crocheting!

Flip flopping between art and crochet for each character!

Writing these while I have some brief downtime! Sobs my feet hurt sm

CAINE:

Loves hovering over your shoulder in the air while you're working on art! Not in the annoying way that people do when they hover and watch your every move, literally watching you draw and having the nerve to ask if they can take your sketch and finish it (totally not ranting about personal experience)

Well

It can be a little irritating, but caine just loves how fluid you look when you get in your zone

Keeps every drawing youve given him within arms length. Probably keeps it in his hat. Comically has loads of storage in his hat

POMNI:

Crochet! You try to get pomni into it but she fails so so bad and has a tangled mess of material. Oooo please domt take her hands in yours and guide them on what to do that totally wont make the poor jesters soul part with her body I prooooomise

Gets so excited when she manages to make a simple thing, like a bee plush? Idk I love crochet bees, sm

RAGATHA:

I already headcannon ragatha to knit, sew, and crochet! So perhaps you two sit down and do dates where you guys make something for one another? Or perhaps, for a twist to keep everyones pieces unique, imagine you're new to crocheting and ragatha is helping you make stuff! I think thats a cute idea, me thinks

JAX:

Very bad at both but similar to caine likes watching you do either of the two. Now is he interested to learn either? No I dont think so, but he wouldnt make fun of you for your hobbies and he would join you if you offered or asked him to join you

Very bad at both.. probably gets a little salty that this is something hes not skilled in for once/hj

KINGER:

Make him crochet bugs please please please hes gonna keep them all on his bed/inside his pillow fort!! He always holds one in his hands while hes walking around

Very nice very silly I love him sm

Gives them all names and never forgets the names

ZOOBLE:

You guys sometimes draw together, but zooble is more so a.. musical artist, imo. Idk they give me musician vibes that I cant quite explain... loves keeping any art of you make of them in their room, probably tapes them all over the walls in a unneat fashion

GANGLE:

You and her draw a lot together! In fact that's what brought you two together! It's nice to have someone around who cares about you and shares your passion, I think... very nice.. honestly it's very refreshing for gangle to finally have someone! You guys gifts each other paintings and lil crafts and I think that's cute. Art dates

[oonajaeadira]

State of the WIP Address Poll

Hi. I usually do these on Friday but I'm in my yearnings and I need your help.

It's super busytimes for me, but I do have snatches of downtime in my day and I'd really love to be writing. The problem is that I have a number of wips and want to work on them all and so I get choice paralysis and I feel like I'mma die inside if I don't finish a story sometime soon. Help.

Here are some wips I have the capacity to work on right now.....

Omegaverse Javi G

Currently sitting at ~6K and about 2/3 done

Rating: Mature for a/b/o dynamics and couplings, but mostly angst and sweetness

You and Javi were part of the two ruling Alpha packs on Mallorca. You were an Omega assumed to wed into the Gutierrez family to seal the bond between the two families. The problem: Javi's uncle--not his father--was the ruling Gutierrez, which means Lucas is set to be head Alpha and Javi was the only boy in the Gutierrez family that didn't present as Alpha. And yet you were childhood friends and then sweethearts... Then everything changed.

.

Modern!dom Pero

Currently sitting at ~6K and maybe 2/3 done? It's in pieces

Rating: Mature for a sex scene at the end

Don't be fooled though, he's not a rough or controlling dom. I'm still a softie. You run a marital arts school with Lin and hire two carpenters to build out a second studio. One of them seems pretty grumpy but you find through fits and starts that you have more in common than you think. And not just familiarity with swords....

.

Sex Pollen Oberyn

Currently sitting at ~2.5K and I'd say maybe 1/4 done

Rating: Explicit for descriptions of things I can't stop thinking about

I mean, right now it's a hell of a lot of reader x Ellaria, but that's just the build up to funtimes. You are the representation of your Dornish provence come to Sunspear to negotiate land with other leaders....but that's just a convenient front for a secret mission. Your sister's marriage needs a little oomph and you've heard tell of a potion that might help, but only the maesters would know of it. Not like they'd ever give it over to a womanthough. But the Red Viper might know how to make it and if only you can get an audience with the Prince, you might be able to beg the favor.... And then, you know, misunderstandings and threesomes ensue.

.

Leave Off Your Wandering part 5: Spring Again

Currently sitting at ~750 and I don't know how long it will be

Rating: Mostly fluff with some domestic bedroom relations

Too much trauma happened in Winter for me to just end it there...I want to give them some time to heal and rebuild. So Spring Again is the epilogue and it won't have much for story, just checking in on everyone. Showing how they've settled. Letting them go off into their uneventful happy ending.

.

I've got a few more but I'm either not in a place to concentrate on the bigger stories or I don't have a next step for them just yet. (Din and Pats and Light/Shadow Max and Branded Pero are calling, and maybe I'd love to revisit Thief and Locksmith....I just need more uninterrupted time for them.) These are the one that bubble my thoughts from time to time lately.

Which one are you most wanting to read?

Pedro tax:

Thank you in advance. <3

[simonlynch]

HI DEX I hope you've been well!! I see you've been Jack posting a lot and I haven't seen the movie yet but I need info about your s/i or your shop lore. Or just anything!!

♡ @eternally-smitten

thank you nat! i know i havent gone into much detail but it was because i was still trying to think through things. will put it under a readmore as well bc its fairly lengthy for an ask!

my s/i is named harley! they are an artist (and i use general artist bc they often dip into a lot of different mediums for their art), and use their platform to push for social change; they gained notoriety from a very hefty anti war effort in the 60s & well into the 70s through various public demonstrations and art projects -- it's why they initially were interviewed impromptu via phone by jack sometime during '68, though back then he was still doing radio in chicago.

fast forward a few years, night owls airs for the first time in '71. within the first year or so of running, jack (who has only heard of harley's recent projects, being an ny resident themselves) asks harley back for a proper interview, this time on the show.

it goes fairly well, with high ratings solely because before this, harley mostly kept out of the public eye, their art and its messages being the centerpiece of public consumption (think banksy), and jack really only having the means to contact them at all because of that mostly-unnoticed interview a few years prior. harley agrees, hoping to get their message out to a wider audience, but beyond that, harley and him just mesh well in personality and humor, and quickly become friends.

from there, they keep in contact as casual friends, with harls helping him with some writing once in a while until after a couple years (i imagine we're into '74-75 at this point) they quietly resign to a creative co-partnership after the us pulls out of vietnam (read: harley decides to take a step back from the big outspoken antiwar efforts and focus on philanthropy for affected parties, leaving them with a lot of downtime and a lot of creative constipation) of some sort, with harls splitting their time between their own art and being around to help with jack's show.

obviously harley at this point is absolutely in love with jack, but wholly respects his marriage and never breaks those boundaries, leaving it as a one sided, unreciprocated (?) crush for quite some time. after jack's wife gets sick and dies, though, harley presents themselves as a shoulder for jack to cry on, and maybe he realizes he was always a little in love with them too, and that it wouldn't be so bad to go through the next few stages of the grieving process alone...?

so. yeah! friends to lovers, with a lot of slowburn and quite a bit of angst thrown in 🫶 theres some fun hcs i have for them (like jack calls harley "ziggy" after ziggy stardust, since their fashion sense and gender freakiness is VERY similar to bowie's act...or maybe bowie got it from them...? 👁️) but that's the basis!!

sorry it is so long i just have been thinking abouy them nonstop for quite a few days now ❤️ i would LOVE to talk more abt harley and/or their relationship though so please feel free to ask anything else !!

[robothipdips]

Probably best to keep scrolling, or alternatively go listen to literally any song from Buckethead's album Colma. It's beautiful. All of it. Heck listen to the whole thing. I'm just here to turn thoughts and feelings to words and maybe practice openness.

Frustrated with how easy my friends make it to figure things out. I would like to be as able to offer the same in return. I feel like I've fallen behind. I want to be a better friend and more of a person.

I want to learn what they know so that my requests for support/guidance feel more substantial, more worthy of their time. I stand by "there's no such thing as a stupid question", and so my guilt points to a sense of emotional self-sabotage with regard to my personal growth. Even now I feel so locked into mental rules I didn't even consciously choose. So were I to be more independently competent as a person, what would I be more independent of? I'd know to ask for help, so it wouldn't be a matter of individualism. It's not about denying myself the right to basic comforts, so it's not about feeling like I deserve less than others, or that nobody should have such comforts. It's not about feeling like a slave to instinct, instinct is valuable and important. I don't have a sense of being watched for errors or sins. It's not even a matter of coping mechanisms, I don't believe I get to employ my coping mechanisms as often or effectively as I would like. It is as though I have decayed, and in doing so ceded ownership of my brain emotional and cognitive sediment, and that sediment has taken on a life of its own. I'm not talking about other identities operating within my brain/mind. It's more like a million tiny remotes from the click movie. Tiny emotions and significances and connections falling to the wayside, throwing errors, failing to get across gaps or accumulate in the recursive cycles that constitute my being. I'm supposed to be starting CBT in a few months. That should have some value here, as should what it encourages me to get done. But aside from that, I don't know. I want to read more. I want to learn more, faster. I want to participate in things whose skills will give me a clearer reflection of my inner workings, the outer world, and the relationship between the two. Meditation, foreign languages, art, singing, programming, math, crochet, physics, animal husbandry, writing. Fervent learning is so core to my identity. I think that's what it is. I've been learning more and more slowly. Even with the medications that felt like breaths of fresh air. And maybe I ought to feel this way, regardless of how engaged I am with learning. Maybe this is what happens when fatigue accumulates. My sleep schedule used to be chaotic, but in a week I used to get a lot more. Now it's 2-4h a night, 6 if I'm lucky, none if I'm unlucky. 8-12 if I'm physically fucked up from exhaustion, and then back to 0-6. My sleep meds increase the quality of my sleep *f I can get it, but the vivid dreams at the cost of needing more emotional self/external care during my waking hours. My adhd meds calm me, and increase my connection to activities if I can start them... focus, stamina, patience, at the cost of needing better sleep and more relaxing downtime. But making the sleep happen? I don't know. I'm becoming less able to take care of myself and participate in my interests and responsibilities, which is increasing my stress levels, which is further impacting my sleep. It's a cycle. My mental health appointments mean missing classes, or having less time to study or relax. I've already dropped half of my interests since starting this semester and cut my social contact in half along with it just to maintain this sliver of a chance of catching up to my peers. I need more rest, a change of pace, and help. The grief of these last few years' losses have been so heavy. I want to be there for my loved ones. As the saying goes, I want to be able to keep people warm without setting myself on fire. Maybe I could catch up at uni if I had a spare two weeks. Maybe I could recover my energy reserves if I had a spare month. Maybe I could be okay if this all wasn't so overwhelming. That's not even getting into my finances. I can't wait those away. I need a real grip on things before this Winter when the Nordic dark months/super short days - I don't want even more cards stacked against my brain chemistry. Some peace shouldn't be too much to ask for.

I'm so tired of the decay. I'm so tired of being tired. I want to feel real again.

[missameliasmithers]

This is the longest of long shots, but I figured, who else would help a random Internet Stranger with a penchant for the arts but Tumblr.

I need some help.

Like many people on this website, I'm a writer. I love writing. I've loved writing for years. For what seems like forever, I've been plucking away at my keyboard in my free time, writing fan fiction or short stories because it was fun. And it still is. It's my number one passion.

Two years ago, I started writing a book. It began, as all my other writing projects, as a hobby. However, as my health got worse (and I won't open that can of worms), I started to have more and more opportunities to work on it. Sitting around waiting for tests results gives you a lot of downtime. Last June, I put the finishing touches on it, and, guys—it's good.

I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I've worked so hard on this bad boy, and it's my pride and joy. I can so easily see it taking over booktok or being discussed at length on blogs here, and I so badly want to share it with the world. It's my dream to have it published—by a big name if possible—and this is where I've hit a wall.

To get a contract with a big publisher, you need an agent. I have written dozens of query letters—some of which have received positive feedback, only to be politely turned down because there's so much competition flooding the market right now. I knew things would be tough. I just didn't think they would be this tough.

I'm getting very discouraged. To the point where I fear I will never find representation. I know my book is good. I know people will love it. I just don't know if I'll be able to find someone who can help me down the terrifying path to publishing.

That's where you guys come in.

It would mean the absolute world to me if people could spread this around. My hope is that if this post becomes big enough, the right person will stumble across it.

I know it's improbable... maybe even impossible. The better half of me is scolding me for even typing this all out, saying that people aren't going to care. But I have to try.

Of course I wouldn't ask for this blindly. I've included the first chapter so you can judge for yourself if you think the story has potential.

I know everyone has their own preferences, so if it's not your thing, no big deal. But if you fall in love with it as much as I have, I would really really appreciate you spreading this post. A share could change my world.

Anyway, I've taken up enough of your time. If you have any more, please consider reading Chapter One below. Feedback is always encouraged as well.

Thanks for reading. Have a great day!

Chapter One

It’s days like this that make me wish I were an orphan.

Circe smacks me on the calves and I nearly tumble off the tightrope. It’s not a long way down, but a fall would hurt my pride if nothing else.

“Again!” she calls.

I suck in a hiss between my teeth as I regain my composure. It’s a simple matter to find my balance on the rope underfoot. I’ve done this countless times. Sometimes even blindfolded. This type of exercise should be as simple as breathing. But this time the others have been permitted to observe, and the feeling of their eyes on me is impeding my focus. I train alone. Or at least I have for the last few years.

My gaze flickers to Mirette and Elena as they whisper to each other while I once again make my way across the fibre rope strung across the glade. Their eyes are trained on me from below, their judgement weighing on my shoulders. My balance shifts again.

Smack!

“Again!”

This time, I cannot stop the scowl from crawling up my face. I right myself and then gesture to my audience with a flick of the wrist. “It’s hard to concentrate with these fools giggling to themselves like children!”

Circe glowers as she always does when I resist her commands. “You have far more distractions to deal with on a job than a few people gossiping.”

She always acts as if I’ve never been on a job before. I have. Twelve to be exact. Each one had its own distractions—hounds barking, families arguing, guards patrolling—but those were faceless, nameless creatures. These vultures beneath me are my peers. Not that any of us really feel like we’re on the same level, but we’ve seen each other grow over the years. That’s as close to kinship as you get in this village.

“I said again, Sarana!” Circe barks.

My eye twitches, but I push my frustration down. The sooner I cross this meadow, the sooner I can leave the pit of vipers beneath me.

I start again across the rope. When it was first tied up, the rough hemp provided traction for the soles of our boots, but it’s smoothed out over the years, which makes it more difficult to cross. An accumulation of friction, shoe polish, and probably some blood and skin from when the coarse fibre used to scrape our hands raw, has created an almost slick surface. I’ve gotten quite good at making it across despite this, but it does require a moderate amount of concentration.

Shrill laughter cuts my focus.

“Hahaha! Oh my gods, stop! That’s so mean!”

It’s Elena, or maybe Mirette. It doesn’t really matter who. My eyes dart down involuntarily, and then I’m teetering.

Another smack from Circe’s cane has my legs faltering off the rope. I shoot my hands out to grab the hemp to keep me from a humiliating fall. Dangling by my fingertips is less than ideal of course, but it’s far better than landing on my butt.

Circe, of course, isn’t impressed. “Sarana.”

I huff in irritation and haul myself back up and into a starting position. Circe will not relent until I’ve done this properly. Always the perfectionist.

The scavengers, clearly delighted by my near miss, have begun whispering and snickering in excess. Tristan isn’t here to make matters worse, but it’s grating all the same. 

Anger is simmering beneath my skin to where all I want to do is slide down the tree behind me and tackle every single tittering fool into the dirt, but I know it’s foolishness. My temper has gotten me into trouble more than a handful of times. Sometimes I still feel the ghost of Circe’s cane on my back.

Deep breaths, Archer taught me. Inhale, pause, exhale. Center myself. Don’t think about the stares. Don’t think about the whispers. Think about things I can control. Think about what I want in the current moment. About what would bring me joy. Focus on that.

I imagine the disappointment that will darken everyone’s faces when I fly across this rope, the picture filling me with a warm satisfaction. That’s what I want. To see the bitter jealousy of those who scorn me. To know that their derisive words will dry in their throats with the envy and desire to be me. I want to witness the distress they will feel as they remember the crushing reality that I am better.

It’s not a pure thought. But there’s no room for purity in Greenwood, no matter how pleasant the name may sound.

A numbness takes over me. It’s not a gentle calm, more like the silence that follows the snap of an arrow being loosed from a taut bowstring or the ragged exhale that comes from steel piercing flesh. I hear nothing. I see nothing. The other trainees are gone. Circe has vanished. It’s just me. Me and the mission that lies ahead.

I can almost sense the click of the steely determination that sets in. It settles in the shadowy part of me that comes to life on a job. The part that Circe planted and nurtured. The part I sometimes revel in. The part I sometimes resent.

In the span of two breaths, I deftly saunter across the rope to the other side. It’s over before anyone even really registers I started. They blink, and I go from one end of the glade to the other. 

Without waiting for approval, I drop down. If Circe wants to yell, it won’t be at my prowess. I know there’s nothing to critique.

Turning on my heel, I offer the obligatory bow to Circe and take a moment to relish the myriad of bitter expressions from my cohorts before ambling out of the clearing, back to the main village. From the corner of my eyes, I see Circe’s glare, not at all lessened by my flawless—albeit slow—execution of the exercise, and know that I’m in for a lecture tonight over dinner.

I decide to go back to my room and check my stores until the impending harangue. I’ll suffer through it as I’ve suffered through them all. Better to get it over with. It’s not like I can avoid her forever. She is my mother, after all.

Sure enough, Circe bursts through the door as I’m cataloguing my stash of oleander. It’s been running low, and I’ll need to either place an order with Glen, or barter for a day off to collect it myself. I’m trying to decide how much a purchase would run me when Circe’s shadow falls over me. She's livid.

“You dare leave training without being dismissed,” she seethes.

I shoot her a scowl of my own. “You’re the one who put me up on display in front of the firing range.”

She rolls her eyes. “So dramatic.”

“I’m being dramatic?” I hiss. “You haven’t made me train with the others for years, and yet you put me up on a pedestal to see if they could knock me down.”

She narrows her eyes. “They almost did.”

“And for what?” I ask. “To humiliate me? Humble me?”

“To make you remember what I taught you.”

I fold my arms. “You’ll have to be more specific. Which one of your many lessons am I meant to remember, exactly? The ‘trust no one’ speech? The ‘you have no friends’ lecture?”

“Try ‘don’t get comfortable.’ You’ve fallen into a routine, Sarana. Routines lead to complacency. Complacency leads to laziness. Laziness gets you caught. And you know what happens then.”

“I’ve never been caught. I never will.”

Circe scoffs. “Such arrogance. Have you learned nothing?”

Indignant, I shoot to my feet. “I’ve learned everything! I mastered all your precious skills at eighteen. I’ve succeeded in a dozen missions, yet you still make me run drills! I’m the fastest runner, the best climber, the sharpest shot. I don’t need to have the trainees breathing down my neck, waiting for me to mess up so they can kick me while I’m down.”

Circe’s malicious frown turns to one of displeasure. “So, you’ll let your insecurities rule you, then?”

“Any insecurities I have, have stemmed from you,” I sneer. “You expect my every action, every word, every thought to be perfect.”

“Imperfection begets death,” she says. Then, gentler, “You know this.”

The memory of a letter between my fingers, crumpled and damp from tears, resurfaces unbidden. My gaze inadvertently peels off Circe to land on the chest at the foot of my cot where the weathered parchment lies folded neatly amongst my possessions. I sometimes wonder why I keep it. The ink only proves to invoke pain.

“Yes,” I say. “I know this.”

Circe takes my hand and guides me to sit with her next to the warm hearth. 

My mother is like a coin, her two sides diametrically opposed. One, the cold, strict, impersonal taskmaster, and the other the warm, tender, loving mother. Nowadays I see more of the former than the latter, but growing up, my mother was a source of comfort and adoration. We used to cook meals together, go on walks into the woods to pick herbs, have meaningful conversations while sharpening steel. She used to wear her mantle every day. Now she only shakes the dust off it when she sees I need it.

It makes these moments all the more precious. I yearn for them.

“Sarana, you know I care about you,” she says, giving my hand a squeeze. “Any harshness I show derives from the need to see you safe. People like us cannot afford to make mistakes.”

“I know,” I say softly. I know this not only because of the letter, but because of the faces that have never returned to the village. Nial the baker’s son, who was one of the first to play with me when I was a child. Cynthia the herbalist who suffered through my nagging questions as I learned the difference between royal fern and bracken fern. Rion the blacksmith’s apprentice, who gifted me his first set of knives, fresh from the forge. Miles. Fenway. Stella. Sven.

Archer.

Just as I have seen them disappear, so has my mother. The sting may even bite deeper for her. She chose them. She trained them. She sent them out. Only to never see them again. I wonder if she thinks about them as much as I do, but I see the shadows in her face of demons passed and know she’s haunted. I expect it’s a silent guilt she refuses to share.

I squeeze her hand back. “You won’t lose me.”

She gives me a rueful smile. “I better not. You’re all I have, moonbeam.”

The moment of sentiment between us helps give me the courage to request for the morning off to gather the herbs I needed to replenish my supply. I choose to do so over dinner. A frown settles over Circe’s face, but she wipes it away and brushes my cheek. “It is good to be prepared,” she relents, and as the sun rises, I grab my satchel and cloak off the peg by the door and hurry to the woods before my mother can change her mind.

When I was little, I never left Greenwood. I spent the mornings with my mother, played with the other children in the afternoon, and trained in the evening. As I got older, training took up more and more time, leaving less and less for play and socialising. Circe paid me special attention, gave me extra hours, and soon I was outpacing all the others. Well, almost all the others. Archer was always better than me.

Resentment among the other trainees grew with my skill until I slowly became a pariah. I was no longer welcome in their games or conversations. Their eyes regarded me with more bitterness and contempt. Their voices stuttered to a stop when I drew near. Their jabs during training became brutal and cruel.

I was too young to understand the darkness of jealousy then. I thought I had done something wrong. But no matter how hard I tried to force myself back into the fold, to be nice and kind and win back their friendship, I was pushed out with more ferocity.

I found solace in the woods. There were no malicious whispers or hateful glares, just the warm breeze, rustling leaves, and sheltering trees. The forest offered not only a safe haven, but various pastimes. During my time here, I studied the plant life, learned about the local fauna, and honed the skills I actually enjoyed. The trees were perfect for climbing, the bark and small game good targets for my knives, and I promptly learned—through some unfortunate trial and error—which forageables were edible.

At first, my mother was pleased with the improvement the forest visits were making, but eventually, my abilities plateaued. There were other skills I had to master, and she became less inclined to allow me the free time to venture into the woods.

On days like today where she shows more love than stringency, I’m able to escape for an hour or so. A far cry from when I was young, but things change as you grow. It’s a fact of life that I had to come to terms with quickly.

I know these woods like the beat of my heart, and I know exactly where the oleander blooms. I unsheathe a knife from the specialised scabbard at my side and twirl it around my fingers until it rests in the loose hold I use for throwing. The biggest danger in the forest are deer, but you can never be too careful.

It’s quick work to find the delicate pink blossoms. I use my knife to snip off several handfuls from the shrub and place them into my bag. I make sure to get enough for my various applications—some to suffuse in oil, some to dry, some to grind. Cynthia would have been proud.

Since they’re handy, I snag a few other plants while I’m out. It never hurts to have more snakeroot or jequirity beans, and it’s always good to have calendula and chamomile.

Along the way, I spy a branch under some leaves. I fish it out and examine the rough edge where it separated from the trunk. It’s splintered and doesn’t look too dry, meaning it must have broken off fairly recently. Likely by a stag. Maybe two fighting. It’s a bit too big to do anything with, so I half-snap, half-slice the excess off. I’m left with a good hunk of basswood. My favourite.

I set my pack down at my usual tree—a beautiful maple with sprawling roots that offer a perfect earthy seat to nestle into, and I do exactly that. I stick the knife from my hand into the dirt and riffle through my satchel for another. The ones I throw are not made to chisel wood.

The knife I pull out first is a special one. It’s a beautiful dagger that I keep polished to perfection. Smokey curls are etched into the quillons and a black leather grip leads to an obsidian pommel that flashes with dark promise. It’s also not made for whittling, and Archer would have murdered me if I ever tried—would probably come back to haunt me if I did now—but I just like to look at it. My most treasured possession. It never leaves my side.

I let my fingers graze the smooth lines of it before replacing it in the bag and pulling out what I’d originally been searching for: a sturdy sloyd knife. It’s nothing fancy, but it whittles like a dream. I picked it up for two copper pieces after a job seven years ago, and it’s served me well since. It doesn’t get used as much as I would like. Free time is practically non-existent these days.

I spend about an hour in the forest, carving the hunk of wood sliver by sliver. It’s taking a basic shape: the silhouette of a large cat. I haven’t decided which one. The only big cat I’ve seen is a mountain lion, but I’ve already made six.

As the sun sinks below the horizon, I tuck the figurine into my satchel and adjust the strap on my shoulder. If I don’t get back soon, the tentative peace with my mother will probably shatter.

Circe slips back into the taskmaster role with practiced ease as she has me running drills over the next few weeks. 

It's no surprise to me that she so quickly transitions after our tender exchange earlier. What does catch me slightly off guard is her lessened severity. She's usually all sharp commands, harsh critiques, and hissed criticism, but, while the strict orders and expectations are still there, she has also lightened. Her comments aren't as biting and she has allowed me to train alone once more, so something about our conversation must have struck her.

She watches me carefully as I run through the various combat forms one afternoon in the gloomy overcast of one of the training areas. Her eyes are careful, sharp, and dart around to land appraisingly on different parts of my body, checking for proper stance and posture. I can feel the moment she sees something she doesn’t like, but not in the harsh physical way I sometimes have to endure.

“Arms up,” she says. “You’ve allowed them to fall slack.”

I raise my arms higher as indicated and receive a satisfied nod. 

“Better,” she says.

She continues the lessons in this way—firm corrections and unaffected praise. Legs wider. Elbows in. Wrist down. Head up. Good. Better. Well done. 

A few days later, I finally recognize the shift in her tone and the adjustment of her behaviour to be guilt. It’s a rather gratifying realization that my words, however few in the grand scheme of things, had actually taken effect. I come to the understanding that just like I sometimes forget to be a daughter, Circe often forgets to be a mother. 

It’s a sad fact. But such is the reality of our situation. 

A whisper of a thought wonders idly why my mother has chosen now to allow guilt to reshape her actions, but as she hands me a glaive for the next exercise, it slips away.

“I have a job for you,” Circe tells me over breakfast one morning.

I perk up over my bowl. It’s been four months since my last job. “What is it?”

“Simple reconnaissance,” she says. “Hanival has a new governor: Odom Klaus. We need to evaluate his political standings and values.”

Recon is hardly my favourite kind of mission, but things have been so boring lately, I’ll take anything I can get. I feel a thrumming energy pulse in my blood as excitement and anticipation build. “I’ll get it done.”

My mother smiles, a rare expression these days. “I know you will. You leave this afternoon.”

To my chagrin, the job is cut and dry and I’m in and out in two days. 

Odom Klaus is an upstanding citizen: no skeletons in his cellar, no radical views that would dismantle society, no inappropriate actions towards his staff or townspeople. He is likely to be a perfectly respectable governor who will work to improve Hanival in the years to come. 

How boring.

The streets of Greenwood are bustling with activity when I return. People are chatting excitedly as they hurry to and from shops and houses or down the dirt roads. Some notice me, one or two of the older adults giving me nods of acknowledgement, but the others don’t seem to see me. Typically I’d find that preferable to the callous treatment I normally get, but I feel uneasy.

Close to the house, I hear Circe call my name.

She’s waiting by the front door. “Come here,” she says. I can’t tell from her voice if she's impatient or excited.

Her demeanour has certainly changed from her norm. It’s almost like she’s vibrating, an energy under her skin ready to burst free. I’ve never seen her like this. Her perfect façade is still in place, not a stray hair or expressive emotion in sight, but something is building. It’s either really good, or really horrible.

I follow her into the house and hang up my cloak. “What’s happening?”

“A messenger came while you were away,” she says. She’s got a piece of parchment in her hand, and for a moment, I am taken back to two years ago. My heart is in my throat, taking up too much space and making it hard to breathe or swallow, but I catch that gleam in her eye and I know now what it is that I couldn’t place about her. She’s positively thrilled.

It’s a sentiment she’s never worn. Not around me. Content, sure. Happy, sometimes. This is beyond that. She’s practically floating. To the untrained eye, her expression holds a semblance to that of someone who was told that crop yields would be slightly higher this year, but I’ve learned to read her better than anyone.

I slowly let out the panicked breath that I was unintentionally holding, and swing my bag off my shoulder. I set it next to the chest at the end of my cot. “They must have had something important to say. The town is tripping over itself.” And you’re buzzing.

“The king is looking for a wife.”

The world stops and my blood goes cold. We’re a tiny village known to the world as a small farming community. Why would such a message have come to us? The king should have no business here.

“What’s that have to do with us?”

Circe holds out the parchment. “The palace is encouraging all eligible women to travel to the capitol to see if they are suitable. They’re not limiting candidates to nobility.”

“What?” I ask incredulously, snatching the paper. Sure enough, it is as my mother said. Unmarried women over the age of eighteen are being invited to the capitol for some kind of application process. There will be no imposed limitation of house, family, or title. There’s a line that says the women will stay near the palace during the selection process, but there are no additional details besides that, and the whole thing sounds incredibly vague. “Why would he marry outside of the nobility?”

“It’s likely his uncle’s meddling,” Circe says, venom slipping through her words. She always goes ice cold when speaking of the royal family. “But that’s not important. What’s important is that you’re going.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for, Sarana. If you make it through the initial screening process, you’ll have access to the king.”

My brain feels as if it’s sputtering like a candle in a windstorm. The sounds from outside are replaced with a ringing that is both shrill and mute at the same time. It feels like someone took the dial of my pulse and cranked it to ninety. 

I stammer. “I won’t make it through any kind of screening. They’ll take one look at me and turn me away.”

“You’re beautiful enough to have attracted Duke Howden’s attention.”

I want to throw up. “Duke Howden was a lecherous swine that preyed on any pretty handmaiden no matter her age. He was a vile man who was dragged down to hell where he belongs.”

Circe nods in agreement, but maintains her previous argument. “You’ve caught the fancy of other, less abhorrent men. You’re as attractive as many noblewomen. Maybe even more so. You will have no problems on that front.”

True, I have had a number of men attempt to court me, but the vast majority—I do not count Vargas, the miller’s second son, for various reasons—had been while on a job. Those men had not fallen for me. They had fallen for Chloe, or Abigale, or Thalia, or whoever I had to become to accomplish my goal. The me on missions is flirty and gentle and dainty—a near complete antithesis to who I really am. Though, to Circe’s credit, I suppose my appearance never really changed much.

“What about the rest of me?” I ask. “I can’t compete with the higher class.”

“Sarana.” Circe’s voice takes a harsh tone. “You are talented. You are skilled. Have I not taught you how to blend in with all manner of crowd? Have I not instructed you in the ways of the court? What your beauty cannot convince, your finesse will supply.” She pauses, and her voice takes an even harder edge. “I would have thought this opportunity would delight you.”

“It does…” I say softly, because it’s the truth. The murky dusk in me is elated. I remember very clearly what the king took from me. Every day I struggle to push down the darkness the loss left me with. “I want nothing more than to take it, but along with everything else, you taught me to be realistic. They will not admit me. I am nobody.”

“You’re not a nobody, Sarana.” Mother takes my face in her hands. “You are my daughter. You were born for this.”

A surge of pride rushes through my veins. Praise has become a scarcer and scarcer commodity through the years, and despite my better judgement, the small girl inside me greedily yearns for it. It's a flaw I have yet to shake—the longing to please the few I care about. To be loved.

I curl my fingers around her wrists. “When do I leave?”

She hands me a bag I’ve never seen before. It looks packed full. “Right now.”

I nod. There’s no need for a sentimental goodbye since there’s no one in the village besides the woman in front of me who will truly miss me.

I peek into the bag to ensure I have the supplies I’ll need for the job. Sure enough, Circe has included various clothes in bright colours for days in court, and pitch black for nights in shadows. Containers of beauty products clink up against my vials of poisonous oils and herbs. Ribbons for my long black hair are wrapped around a cloth bundle that undoubtedly carries a selection of knives and lockpicks from my collection.

Everything a girl needs to assassinate a king.

[numptypylon]

I thought I’d do an early-stage wip wednesday today, because I haven’t in ages, and I do have stuff in the works. Currently doing what I can to prep for the planned follow-up to my S1-3 between-episodes fics Downtime in Wartime and Upside Downtime, working titled Downtime’s Up, because I’m drawn to cheesy titles and puns and am steering into the skid. It’ll add in downtime scenes within and between episodes, mainly focused on banter, romance, humor and character drama. I just really enjoy writing between-scenes stuff, so I’m so damn hype to have a whole new crop of episodes soon!

Of course, I can’t really do any writing before the season drops, but I’m trying to nail down a chapter header style that’ll work for at least the upcoming season but potentially this entire arc of seasons, so I’ve been experimenting.

The headers for Downtime in Wartime was the first digital art I’d ever done, so my repertoire was really limited and I was basically copying what I knew from traditional art, and for Upside Downtime, it was the first lineless art I’d ever done, so I was figuring out that style, and what I could do with it. I’m trying to be bolder this time, more high-contrast and saturated, and using more colors rather than sticking to the monochrome. I’m using the ‘fragments’ motif from the s4 concept art and build-up to the season, but with scraps of paper to mimic the older sets of headers.

Here’s some header examples I’ve done, although bear in mind they’re more style experiments/practice, testing to see if the range of motifs I’ll be dealing with over potentially 3 seasons’ worth of headers, are something I can pull off in the style. I might use the first though, since we have a pretty good idea about the contents of the first episode, and you know it’ll very probably be some sad Callum pov for that one, I just can’t resist the allure of that sweet sweet angsty pining.

You can see my terrible title brainstorming below, if you’re curious. I usually don’t HAVE a title until the ao3 title field is staring at me all judgy on posting day, maybe I’ve grown 😄

[wren-of-the-woods]

I posted 4,335 times in 2022

That's 472 more posts than 2021!

315 posts created (7%)

4,020 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@soundsfaebutokay

@wren-of-the-woods

@witcherbeech

@blaidd-gwyn

@samstree

I tagged 4,223 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#q - 2,300 posts

#the witcher - 1,845 posts

#jaskier - 1,438 posts

#art - 1,047 posts

#geralt - 956 posts

#amazing - 765 posts

#geraskier - 725 posts

#the amazing devil - 666 posts

#*applause* - 547 posts

#fic rec - 377 posts

Longest Tag: 131 characters

#“i’ll be your friend” he whispers. “i’ll be your bard. i’ll be your everything for as long as you’ll have me.” fkashdfj i love them

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Some irl friends and I were discussing the way Jaskier’s lute was broken in season two. They have come to the conclusion that Jaskier should get a different kind of instrument in season three. Suggestions include a balalaika, a xylophone, and bagpipes (to annoy Geralt).

730 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

#4

Today I’m having feelings about the symmetry between Jaskier (who left his noble life and his name as Julian Alfted Pankratz de Lettenhove) and Geralt (who tried to take the noble name of Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde and was denied). 

812 notes - Posted July 24, 2022

#3

Don’t think about Jaskier, lute-less and alone in Kaer Morhen, wondering if he’s wanted. Don’t think about him wondering what he is without a lute and an audience, wondering who would miss him if he disappeared. Don’t think about him trying to figure out how to keep going after so many changes, trying to compose again so alone that he doesn’t even have a lute to accompany him.

Don’t think about him eventually figuring out something that might work, about him pouring his soul into lyrics so heartfelt that they rival even Burn Butcher Burn. Don’t think about him spending his suddenly-plentiful downtime writing a piece about sadness and war and identity and loneliness, filled with metaphor. Don’t think about him singing it, haunting and unaccompanied, from the walls of Kaer Morhen.

Don’t think about Jaskier writing Elsa’s Song.

1,137 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

#2

Thinking about Geralt’s fillingless pie comment from the first season and how, despite Jaskier’s indignation, he wasn’t really wrong. All the songs Jaskier had sung up to that point were pretty on the outside but had very little depth -- Toss A Coin had little to do with reality, there wasn’t much to it beyond the surface, and Fishmonger’s Daughter was even worse. 

Thinking about how after the Mountain, after Geralt finally snapped and maybe Jaskier wonders if he really meant those complaints he made over the years, this shifts. Jaskier’s music has much more feeling, all of a sudden. His voice breaks in Her Sweet Kiss. The Golden One is mostly accurate to the events we saw onscreen. And then there’s Burn Butcher Burn, a soulful scream of anger and pain that comes, more than anything else, “from the heart.”

There’s filling in the pie now, whether Geralt likes it or not.

1,209 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Opening Tumblr today as a member of the Witcher fandom:

1,307 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[closedcoffins]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. ( REPOST DO NOT REBLOG!)

✿ NAME: Albatross! You can call me Alba if you'd like.

✿ PRONOUNS: Any pronouns. If you have to default to something I'd prefer they/them.

✿ EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): Um, a while? Like 4 years on tumblr and 5 more off tumblr.

✿ NAME OF MUSE(S): Like the entire cast of Baccano!, plus a few special guests. Namely Yuri Briar.

✿ PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: I prefer discord over Tumblr IMs since they don't notify me very often but I can work with anything.

✿ PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: Various online games including public Minecraft servers, Quotev, Skype, and Tumblr! I do Discord rp sometimes but not very often hahaha.

✿ BEST EXPERIENCE: Oh, goodness. I mean, just writing with new people in general? I always love making friends through rp! But runner-up is definitely when people take an interest in Baccano! because of my blog. Whenever it happens I get so excited I start like actually shaking. So yk what maybe that is the first best.

✿ RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS: When people don't communicate what kind of plots they want and leave all the heavy-lifting to you. I understand more so than usual with my circumstances because I know most people aren't familiar with my muses, but there's a line when it comes to the amount of setup I'm willing to do for a scenario. Plots should be a two-way street, yk?

✿ FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: I would say I like an equal amount of all three and not an excess of either. Really, I've said this in one of these I did a couple days ago, but I actually like crafting wider plots with everything involved. If I did have to rank them, though, it'd be Fluff > Angst > Smut.

✿ PLOTS OR MEMES: I like to establish plots in the long run, but memes are nice to get for shorter, more inconsequential interactions to flesh out relationships in between the larger plotted events, haha.

✿ LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: I get VERY long-winded, I shan't lie. It's hard for me to confine myself to a paragraph---I'd say I write around 3-4 on average, sometimes more or less depending on the muse, thread/ask, and the person I'm writing with.

✿ BEST TIME TO WRITE: Mid-day. I usually do all my drafts during downtime at work---I have a not-very-busy office job so it's easier to get things done there so I have time to do other things, like my art projects, at home.

✿ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Re: the last time I did a dash game like this---I think every muse of mine in some way has a little bit of myself added to them. But, no. I'm very unlike most of them.

Tagged by: @twiloid and @yorprincess --- thank you both for the tag!

Tagging: I know a bunch of my mutuals got something similar to this from me a couple days ago so just steal it if you haven't and want to!

[h2bakugou]

hello! May I please have a Dabi x fem reader in the lov who likes to draw? I think she finds his scars and stuff to be a work of art in itself and is like (oh heck I gotta sketch this). He glances at what she’s drawing and she gets all flustered! Maybe he even takes his shirt off at one point which can lead to some other things~ (I like smut but if you think fluff fits the prompt better that’s alright with me!) Thank you and I love your writing!

a/n: hii! of course love! this is super sweet omg i love dabi, i feel like i dont capture his character very well but imma try like hell😩😩this is probably ooc for him but it’s sappy and i love it

summary: dabi’s hard to read, but that doesn’t stop you from sketching him. you find beauty in his flaws, entranced by his scars, so much so that dabi can’t help but be interested in you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, sappy romance bc i love this man, some spicy themes, one mention of a slight(possible? idrk what counts) manga spoiler (e.g. dabi’s past/history) (manga spoilers in tags!!)

wordcount: 2k

;cut due to suggestive themes;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s never been a really big secret that you liked drawing. But when it comes to working for the league, specifically, the League of Villains, your line of work doesn’t allow for very much downtime unless you’re in the midst of planning some sort of attack or rebellion.

Whether or not the league keeps hopping from rendezvous spot to rendezvous spot isn’t up to you, but you never fail to get a little used to the eerily calming silence that falls upon the league during the first twenty-four hours of the new four walls that seem to keep you safe for the time being.

With a barely sharpened pencil in your hand, a small drawing pad in the other, you’re staring at Dabi as you sketch him.

It started as a bit of a joke, maybe just teasing him since he liked to tease you about being into him since you were the only one he was really super close, if you could call being the first one he spoke to every time he saw you or the one you sought out to be paired up with during missions, ‘super close.’

But now, it was something you enjoyed.

Dabi was one among the very interesting members of the league. Something about his scars just seemed to entrance you. Pulling you in further and further down a rabbit hole of questions that you had but never let leave past your lips.

It felt wrong to ask, not that it was a bad thing to be curious, but because Dabi was just so mysterious. No one knew anything about him, or about who he was, his past, even his real name was a mystery. 

It felt wrong to disturb the unnerving peace that was Dabi. The resting expression on his features balancing on a thin cable between anger and poor personal resilience.

Dabi’s scars were the highlight of your sketches, always standing out. What the others may have thought to be ugly, or unattractive, you thought were beautiful, and emotional.

There was a story behind them, one you wanted to know, one you wanted to uncover and read, page by page, line by line, and word for word, discovering just how truly deep Dabi’s past was. But only Dabi could show you that, only Dabi could open that book for you. And you were willing to wait. You’d wait an eternity if you had too.

His rough raven hair is messy and strewn about as you scribble down his facial features, the groggy lighting making it just a tad difficult to see as you lead the pencil over the warm white paper littered with graphite covered fingerprints.

His arms are positioned on a counter, the art work resembling how he was sitting sloped against the kitchen table, elbows pressed against the dark mahogany wood, hands resting by his mouth as his cerulean eyes peer off at the cracked cement wall in front of him, occasionally glancing back at you.

The other members of the league were scattered about but it didn’t bother you. Toga asked you a couple of questions, wondering what you were doing, if you were excited about the new plans and such.

You replied quietly as to not disturb the peace.

But soon some of the members left, going off to go eat or find something to do. And soon you were among the few left behind, along with Dabi, Shigaraki and Mr. Compress.

Having almost finally finished your current sketch, you were stopped by a pair of hands picking up your drawing pad. Rough and calloused fingers drew your pad away and your attention away.

“Hey I’m not finished.” You glanced up at Dabi. Dabi just admired the talent poured into the sketch. Dabi couldn’t wrap his head around why you drew him so often, but he didn’t mind. It was kind of touching in a way.

“Is that really what I look like?” Dabi joked, handing you back your sketch pad.

“You have looked in a mirror once before, right?” You titled your head to the side, adding a bit more detail to his scars as you began to draw again. 

“A few times. But I’d rather look at you, doll.” Dabi’s hands reached down again, this time pulling at your hands. Leading you out of the room where the other two members sat, finding a way to entertain themselves, Dabi lead you up some stairs in questionable condition.

Picking a random room, he sat down on the rickety bed and waited for you to sit down.

“Why’s that?” You tease, returning to drawing, looking up at him every few seconds to reference. And to admire him.

“You’re easy on the eyes, beautiful and-”

“Are you saying you’re not beautiful, Dabi?” You stopped him, not pausing to look at him.

“I’m not beautiful, I’m gorgeous.” Dabi chuckled, shaking his head jokingly as he laid back against the bed, his head dangling off the opposite end.

“You are.” You confirm. Finally finishing up your sketch. You get up and walk over to him, handing him the finished sketch. 

“You add so much detail to my scars. They’re just scars.” The tips of Dabi’s ears flush as heat floods to his face. He’s flustered but he won’t admit it. He can’t understand why you think he’s so beautiful.

You don’t speak. For the first time, you’re speechless. You sit down beside Dabi, and now that he’s sitting up, he faces you.

You reach your hands out and gently lift one of his arms, holding one of his hands in your own. You run your fingers across the scarred flesh, gently caressing his skin. 

His hands are cold compared to your warm fingers. He’s getting chills all down his spine as you touch him. It’s not meant to be anything out of the ordinary, but he’s still shocked that he’s letting you touch him.

“Your scars are beautiful. I’m sure there’s a story, something about them that might make you hate them, but I love them, and I think they make you that much more beautiful. You are a masterpiece, every scar a carefully calculated brushstroke on a beautiful canvas.” Your words finally come out, overflowing with love. You can’t sit quietly anymore.

“Dabi you are beautiful.” Your eyes lock with his, and you can tell he’s unsure of what to do. 

Dabi no longer felt he had the ability to cry, but if he’d let himself, he would’ve done it in that moment. Being so open and vulnerable around you just happened. It came too easily, and he hated it, but he loved you.

Pulling his arm away form your warm touch, he tossed his jacket off and to the side before tearing his shirt away from his body, allowing you to see his chest, and more of his scar covered skin.

Sitting quietly with a faint blush on your cheeks, you couldn’t look away. trying to avoid staring directly at his toned chest and his nipples, you raised your hand and allowed your fingers to sink down across his sternum.

Soon your fingers were met with his abs, which the heat on your face noticed far too well. 

“Say it again.” Dabi mumbled. You lifted your head to look into his eyes again, your hand still resting against his chest.

“You are beautiful-” The moment the words left your lips, Dabi’s own lips were pressed against yours. Kissing you roughly, more than he intended too, his hands mangled into yours, pushing your arms over your head.

His heart was pounding and it felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest onto yours. Pulling away for a few seconds, Dabi’s hair covered his eyes as he looked down, finding interest in the collar of your shirt.

“I want you.” Dabi’s words were simple, but they didn’t have to be complex. You knew what he meant, and you knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. A chance to see him in a different light, with deeper meaning.

A chance to connect with him, one on one. 

“Then take me.” Your fingers intertwined with his, your arms still resting above your head. It didn’t take long for his lips to magnetize back to yours, sticking to them like glue.

When Dabi thought about sex, he didn’t come anywhere close to making love. There wasn’t that sort of option when it came to him. He didn’t think he was at all capable of love, let alone a relationship that was going to have any sort of emotional connection strong enough to make him feel stable.

But you, you were so vastly different from anyone he’d ever fucked. So different from an excuse to get his dick wet, to get his mind off of league business or heaven forbid, his past.

But you, you were what he needed, what he wanted. It was far from therapy, but it’d work. Having you around was like a drug, addicting, and he’d be going through withdrawals if he couldn’t have you.

Feeling you, touching you, fucking you, kissing you, it was fuel to his fire. He was damaged goods, broken and shattered, impossible to put together, but you were doing your best, working on the smallest parts, exercising precautions, and opening your heart to him.

Hearing his name in the form of your moans as he rutted into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips drove him wild, much like the way your hands tangled into his hair, forcing his head into your chest where he kissed and sucked on your skin, leaving marks.

Your moans and his own grunts of pleasure were spewing from the locked room. Dabi didn’t care if the others heard, he was enjoying the moment.

Every part of it. Every part of you, every part of your body, your words, your love. And before he knew, Dabi was at his highest, his face flush against your naked chest, breathing heavily as he inhaled your scent.

Still inside you, he didn’t move, allowing the two of you to catch your breath. It was in this moment, if Dabi allowed himself to cry, he would’ve cried a second time. He was so infatuated with you, so attached.

“I love you.” Your words scared him, causing his cerulean eyes to peak at you through locks of his noir hair.

“That’s stupid.” Dabi kissed your sternum, kissing up your chest, stopping at your neck to leave a little mark, only to meet at your lips in the end.

“How?” You ask softly, your hands massaging his scalp as his lips hover over yours.

“I can’t explain it, it just is.” Dabi frowned, trying to understand what your eyes were saying as they clouded with emotion.

“Love is complex, and I think that maybe you’ve never really had good experiences with it. If you’d let me, I could show you just how beautiful it can be.” You offer, a small smile on your lips.

“If you feel the need-”

“I do. I love you, and I want you to know love.” You kissed his forehead. Dabi eventually pulled out, not minding the mess, he’d clean up later. 

“I want you to know why I love you.” You whispered, hugging him closer to you.

“Why I love your scars, your hands, your strength, the rasp in your voice, all of it. I love.” Dabi’s arms are strung over your waist as he lays, face nuzzled in your neck. It’s a bit of a stretch for him, and he feels out of place, but it’s oddly comfortable.

The next couple of times you draw Dabi, you ask to see him shirtless again. And with every new sketch, there’s something new to be learned, for Dabi. He’s learning about love, and loving you. 

He finds that you still draw him incredibly cute, and though he won’t admit it, he loves when you draw him. He’ll pose for you if you ever ask, and you always tease him a little about how it was like he was born to be a model.

It’s a long road ahead of you, but it’s one you’re willing to take, to show Dabi just how important love is.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[azurefishnets]

Chocobox Letter 2022

Dear Creator,

I’m so excited to have you join me in this exchange and I’m really excited for you to write or draw one of my prompts! I am happy with art or writing or any other medium you want to try. All my prompts are listed in no particular order and I would love any of them, or, indeed, anything using these tags that doesn’t match my prompts. I just hope you find something that speaks to you!

I love unusual interactions between characters that canonically are close but there’s not a lot of exploration of why, and found family is one of my absolute favorite tropes. I love these weirdo “&” pairings with all my heart, so I hope so m have fun that writing or drawing one of my prompts may prove inspirational to you!

AO3: AzureFishnets

LIKES: slice of life, strangers or acquaintances-to-family, friends-to-lovers, non-mundane AUs, fandom crossovers or fusions, bonding, taking a level in badass, slice of life, angst to happy end, hurt/comfort or plain comfort, missing moments, bonding and emotional support/intimacy, lingering touches, loyalty, banter, worldbuilding, sensory details, unusual interactions, puns and wordplay, cool symbolism, unexpected parallels, creepy, mysterious, and/or atmospheric stuff, anything showing your research into the lore of the world

OKAY WITH: any tense, any amount of plot or none, out-of-the-ordinary story structures, heavy dialogue, no dialogue, character explorations, slice of life art, characters appearing that aren’t requested as long as it doesn’t go against my DNWs

DNWS: any kind of consent issues whatsoever, non-requested romantic relationships, angst without a happy ending or at least some kind of resolution, infidelity, excessive blood and gratuitous depictions of bodily damage, things squirming under skin, anything to do with saliva or pus, underage relationships, non-canon children, pandemic stuff unless it’s, like, fantasy pandemic and warranted within the lore.

Prompts in order:

GHOST TRICK | PYRE | HEAVEN'S VAULT | TRAILS IN THE SKY | ZERO/AO NO KISEKI | LUNAR | FINAL FANTASY VI | IKENFELL | FAR: LONE SAILS | DISCO ELYSIUM

-PROMPTS-

GHOST TRICK: PHANTOM DETECTIVE

Love these people, love this canon, want all the people thrown at all the other people and the interactions gained thereby! Alma/Cabanela/Jowd are the OT3 of my heart, so if you write two without the other, please don’t consider it from an infidelity standpoint? They’re all so integral to each other… any timeline is fine and any prompt from previous letters is also fine!

· Alma/Cabanela/Jowd - As I write this, I have a head cold and it’s chilly out and all I really want from life is a bowl of chicken soup and a blanket, so, inevitably, my heart turns to sickfic. These are three independent people who don’t like being taken care of much, but I like seeing them being taken care of and loved! One of them’s sick and the other two taking care of them? Two of them are sick and the third is valiantly soldiering on? All three of them are sick and just having to take a downtime day? The couch is the limit… or maybe the floor…

· Alma/Jowd – Jowd asks Alma to help him find a gift for Cabanela; what’s the perfect gift for someone who saved your life and your daughter’s and took care of your protegée and also got blown up and neither your wife nor the person who did all this know about any of this? And how many times around the shopping mall do they have to go before Alma’s had enough of Jowd dancing around the reason for this gift?

· Cabanela/Jowd – Jowd imagines a scenario where he and Cabanela go visit Alma’s grave, whether in old timeline, or in the new, and take what comfort they can from being there together. Or something a bit more snuggly, maybe a them date when Alma is otherwise occupied? I’m sure Jowd would just looove the brand new aquarium…

· Alma/Cabanela – Any small shared moments of intimacy between them are good… aquarium without the facetiousness this time? Or going to a concert in the absolute fanciest clothes because they can?

· Cabanela & Pigeon Man – Shared custodians of the Green Coat… do they have any little rituals surrounding it in those days of desperate worry and strife?

· Cabanela/Jowd & Pigeon Man – I adore the idea of PM having to help them with a case, especially in early days where the yearning is absolutely palpable… break the tension, break the case wide open!

· Alma & Kamila & Sissel – Kid & cat shenanigans! Picturing something like Calvin & Hobbes except with a mother who knows quite well that Hobbes isn’t just imaginary. What might they get up to? And how will Alma curb the mischief?! Or will she just join in?

PYRE

What I really love out of Pyre and its cast is throwing people at other people and seeing who flinches first and/or adopts the other first? Most of these are very much in that vein; pick a location, pick a pyre, toss in the orb. Please feel free to consider any of these either up or down or at any point of the story. I love missing moments and all the found family fluff you can conjure.

· Big Bertrude & Jodariel – I’d love to see maybe Bertrude trying to teach Jodi some kind of alchemical potion to help with demonization (you know, in case one of them isn’t there anymore?) and just being in general prickly but helpful...

· Big Bertrude & Sir Deluge –Otoh, Bertrude is, despite herself, fond of Gilman but I wanna see her steamroll any other wyrm who tries to be overly Familiar… I have an image of Deluge coming to her with some problem post the split and her just absolutely roasting him…

· Big Bertrude & Volfred Sandalwood – I have such a soft spot for this friendship! Just… give them a moment. A good moment? A bad moment? I don’t know, but let them say what they need to say.

· Celeste | The Gate Guardian & Oralech – Oralech attempts to gain entrance to Mt. Alodiel for the first time after his fall. Celeste is…not unsympathetic but she has a job to do

· Celeste | The Gate Guardian/Jodariel – This is a rarepair but I think they’re just so…beautiful together? Opposites in so many ways but with a certain stubborn outlook on life that is just so complementary…

· Jodariel & Sir Gilman – Fishing? Hunting? Knight lessons?

· Sandra & Oralech – What did their old training sessions look or sound like? Or does Sandra have thoughts on Oralech after he shows up again?

· Tariq | The Lone Minstrel & Ti'zo – Ti’zo attempts to show Tariq his favorite fishing spot; Tariq’s not terribly interested in fish but is happy to gossip and maybe finds something else unexpected there.

· Tariq | The Lone Minstrel/Volfred Sandalwood OR Oralech/Tariq | The Lone Minstrel/Volfred Sandalwood – The inherent tragedy of two old revolutionaries and one who knows that revolutions come around again and again…but they have time? Lots of time to make sure THIS revolution goes as well as it can….

· Ti'zo & Vagabond Girl - *ae tries to facilitate a conversation between Ha’ub and his most valiant descendent. Perhaps fish would help somehow…?

· Ti'zo & Volfred Sandalwood - Ti'zo gets to lecture Volfred for once?

· Vagabond Girl & Volfred Sandalwood – Volfred what are you DOING Volfred she is like the world’s best resource to know more about the Scribes (except maaaybe Tariq which is I suppose an answer to this question) why are you not haunting her every move while you have access to her

· The Eight Scribes & Vagabond Girl - *ae asks the Scribes to tell her how to get Volfred to stop haunting her every move...

· Udmildhe VS Volfred Sandalwood – Volfred out to uphold the honor of the Scribes and also his oldest friend, Udmildhe mainly out to just…shut him up

HEAVEN'S VAULT

I love both the game and the book takes on things and I’m quite fine with mergings of the two, or keeping them separate. I prefer the game read of Enkei, for what it’s worth, but the endings of the book are delightful besides that? So something to integrate both would be considered optimal, at least by me!

· Aliya Elasra & Enkei – Love missing moments along the rivers or on moons we never see in book or game…Aliya don’t let her get away with not telling you stuff! She might not read but she still Knows Things

· Aliya Elasra & Huang/Mina – I absolutely adore the book ending for Huang and Mina and really enjoy the idea of Aliya as a platonic third in their research & reading group. Love the idea of Aliya starting to bring Mina little gifts too and Huang suddenly realizing where this is going…

· Aliya Elasra & Six & Talliin – Of necessity, a kind of book thing only but I like the idea of the three of them exploring the Citadel together, two robots forcing Aliya to take some safety precautions for her own good…

· Enkei & Six – I prefer the read of them as different layers of the same being, with neither being more inherently villainous but each bound to their own codes of ethics and morals. What do conversations between these two layers look like? Does Six have an inherent need to protect Enkei and vice versa, because of their Ethical Core?

· Six & Talliin – Two very unusual robots who can be unusual at each other! They seem to have very different interests and drives while still having to abide by the Ethical Cores; what draws them together? What do they disagree on?

· Talliin & Tapi – Oh, I want to see this confrontation that’s not a confrontation… Tapi is Elboreth’s chief purveyor of antiques and Talliin (figuratively) knows where the bodies are buried… they have THINGS to find under that Citadel...

TRAILS IN THE SKY

I love this whole series! The worldbuilding, the lore, the fantastic slice of life moments… I’m more than cool with weaving Sky timeline with Crossbell timeline with even Cold Steel timeline even though I’m not prompting Cold Steel. Please feel free to lean into explorations of interesting locations like Ragnard's lair, the Ark, Phantasma as a whole...any worldbuilding is MORE than welcome!

· Anelace Elfead & Estelle Bright & Kloe Rinz | Klaudia von Auslese – The only time they really get to hang out is in Phantasma but I’d love to see them maybe organize a short talent show to keep morale up! Only cute! No Olivier (so they say initially anyway XD )

· Cassius Bright & Olivier Lenheim | Olivert Reise Arnor – Talking sometime after the Erebonian crisis is over and planning long term for the next Osborne terror, maybe? Alternately, previously unknown talent Cassius (because that’s just what he do) and Olivier jam session? With lots of doubletalk because that’s also what they do…

· Cassius Bright/Lena Bright & Estelle Bright – Just need missing Bright family goodness, with whatever Lena-ness you can throw in there…

· Estelle Bright & Kevin Graham – A moment when Kevin needs a dash of Bright pragmatism, maybe in Phantasma, or when Estelle needs a moment of Kevin goofiness… I just really enjoy their friendship and wish we got to see more of it!

· Estelle Bright & Kloe Rinz | Klaudia von Auslese – I wish for nothing more than MORE Madrigal of the White Magnolia; it would have been fun if there was a missing moment in Phantasma that called back to that… but that’s what fic is fooor!

· Estelle Bright & Ries Argent – I really enjoy Estelle & Kevin’s friendship and would like to see Estelle & Ries grow theirs! Epistolary in the time after Phantasma? A missing moment when they sort of anti-bond over Estelle’s cooking?

· Estelle Bright & Tita Russell – That moment when Tita thought Estelle and Joshua were gonna die at the end of SC and she’d never see them again must have been hard on her. Comfort please!!

· Estelle Bright/Joshua Bright & Renne Hayworth – That time when they’re hunting Renne right after Phantasma, how they handle it, what they plan…

· Joshua Bright & Kevin Graham – I think these two are interesting because they’re both in such dark places and they both get dragged bodily out of them by the people they love. They should talk about this, and maybe also about Kevin uncursing Joshua…

· Julia Schwarz & Kloe Rinz | Klaudia von Auslese – In the time of Phantasma how do they stay close? Especially with Julia’s promotion and Kloe’s work on becoming more royal, I want them to have time together to be close as sisters once again… shopping? Tea? Sparring?

· Kloe Rinz | Klaudia von Auslese & Olivier Lenheim | Oliver Reise Arnor – It would be interesting to see a moment when they have to work together and present themselves as an actual viable couple despite being so very different and very clear between each other that it’s never going to happen? Alternately, AU where it IS going to happen and how they deal with it…

· Renne Hayworth & Tita Russell – I would love to know how they get back in touch after the events of Crossbell, or Tita’s considerations of how she will help Joshua and Estelle find Renne and Renne knowing this and figuring out how to circumvent her…

· Kevin Graham/Ries Argent – They went through a lot together and will do so again, in Crossbell. What’s their next step though?

· Mueller Vander/Olivier Lenheim | Olivert Reise Arnor – I just. The loyalty. The snarky tenderness. The intelligence. I need more, on the Ark, in Phantasma, pre-game. Wherever, whenever, just point them at each other and watch the yearning happen…

ZERO/AO NO KISEKI (CROSSBELL ARC)

I love this whole series! The worldbuilding, the lore, the fantastic slice of life moments… I’m more than cool with weaving Sky timeline with Crossbell timeline with even Cold Steel timeline even though I’m not prompting Cold Steel. I especially love the interesting locations in Crossbell? The Stargazers’ Tower, the Temple of the Moon, the Ancient Battleground… feel free to explore some of the worldbuilding here!

· Alex Dudley & KeA – It would be interesting to see a moment between the two of them just after KeA has become the Zero Child and Dudley is realizing he is going to have to start a revolution

· Elie MacDowell & KeA & Tio Plato – Pampering day!! Let them have good things to eat and time to play without thinking about everything that’s going on. Alternatively: tiny casefic involving Zeit or Koppe?

· Elie MacDowell & Lloyd Bannings & Randy Orlando & Tio Plato – Such a collection of sad people who bring out the best in each other… we get lots of slice of life casefic in game so I’d just like a moment when they get to have fun? A nice day in Armorica somehow?

· KeA & Sergei Lou – I love it when she uncles Sergei. More of that please. Maybe she secretly discovers when his birthday is?

· Randy Orlando & Tio Plato – The siblings they each need… their bond is great. Perhaps something like running into each other in an unexpected place (like the Casino for Tio or in the IBC basement for Randy) and having to scramble for why they’re both there?

· Ilya Platiere/Rixia Mao – Rixia taking time out of her busy Yin life to make sure Ilya does things like make dinner or get home safe or or or… she loves her you see.

LUNAR

I have so many questions and wonderings about what happens next or, frankly, what happened before! So much worldbuilding potential in either era, between Vane, the new dungeons that were built (or the sewers that are still somehow solidly under Meribia for that matter), the dragon caves…why did they move habitats between the old era and the new? In fact, the world seemed to change a lot between old times and new… what happened there…

· Alex Noa/Luna Noa – I’m really interested in their final years; what things did they do to prepare the world for a life without the Goddess? Did they go on any final quests? Go visit the dragons? Anything?

· Althena & Lucia – I’d like to know about their communications! They knew each other once and clearly Lucia felt strongly about Althena—were they friends? Sisters? Purpose-built? Just moments between them—what would happen if they sang a duet?

· Black Dragon & Cyan – I mean the black dragon after Rubeus but it could be before or really Rubeus & Cyan (who is the Blue Dragon, btw, just in case). They’re just so different! Cyan’s so happy-go-lucky and the black dragons (all of them that we know) are so intense! What would a team up between them look like? Do they ever find any points in common?

· Hiro/Lucia – I just really like how they teach each other things about their respective worlds. Blue Star time as they begin rebuilding? Missing moment on their travels?

· Leo | Mystere & Mauri & Ronfar – The mysterious phantom knight Mystere is out saving the day for beleaguered travelers everywhere, but plot twist; it’s not Leo? Who COULD this masked beastperson be…

· Leo | Mystere & Nall – I really like the idea that Leo sets out to become an actual dragon…knight, maybe, since Dragonmasters are no longer possible. What’s it like when he comes to Nall with this plan?

· Nall & Ruby – I love the idea of Nall being dragon mentor to Ruby! Teach her all those dragon-y ways! And spells! And stuff! And give her a friend…

FINAL FANTASY VI

At any given time I’m probably thinking about Final Fantasy VI. So many questions and trails left to explore! I still love the cast, the setting, the various unanswered questions, especially surrounding the War of the Magi, relics, and the Warring Triad. Any of these questions explored in context of prompts would be exciting. The World of Ruin, with its reopening of old wounds, is especially interesting to me. Hidden secrets from an obscured past… please lean into this stuff!

· Cayenne Garamonde | Cyan Garamonde & Celes Chere – Much has been made of that moment in Narshe but what about other times and places where they might come to a better understanding? I’d be interested in missing moments where they find some kind of peace with their shared Imperial trauma, maybe in Zozo or the Ancient Castle…

· Cayenne Garamonde | Cyan Garamonde & Macías "Mash" Rene Figaro | Sabin Rene Figaro - There’s a lot of parallels I don’t often see explored with these two, like the fact that they are sort of both royalty-in-waiting, in odd ways… their respective kings’ most stalwart supporters. I think it would be interesting to see where that takes them, post-game?

· Celes Chere & Chocobos & Macias "Mash" Rene Figaro | Sabin Rene Figaro - I am always always always down for cute chocobos juxtaposed with sad people, making their way through a chilly new world…

· Celes Chere & Daryl - Might they ever have crossed paths before the events of the game, in their respective roles as caged bird and free spirit? I’d be interested in seeing this treated as a VS prompt.

· Celes Chere & Macías "Mash" Rene Figaro | Sabin Rene Figaro - I’d be curious about their ongoing friendship, even after they’re no longer alone. What do they do, where do they hang out, what do they talk about? What are their surprising shared interests? Can they learn a new hobby together?

· Celes Chere & Tina Branford | Terra Branford - Terra would like to hear a redo on the opera thing she’s heard so much about and missed…but she’s not sure how to ask

· Edgar Roni Figaro & Macías "Mash" Rene Figaro | Sabin Rene Figaro: I wanna see old twins being goofy together personally… old men having fun!

· Edgar Roni Figaro & Setzer Gabbiani - Tech buddies tech buddies tech buddies!! I’ve always had a small hc that these two work together to establish a relationship of mutual benefit to Figaro and Setzer–what might such a relationship entail?

· Mog & Tina Branford | Terra Branford – Mog visits Terra and the kids post-game to see how she’s doing in a world with no magic…esper guardians still gotta guard I guess

· Sabin René Figaro & Terra Branford: Esper form Terra and Sabin arm-wrestling. That’s all.

IKENFELL

I just played this game this year and found myself especially fascinated with the themes of cyclical rebirth of different types of magic, the old world passing to the new, and especially the glorious amount of diversity among the cast. I’d love to lean into worldbuilding and exploring more about this world that’s passing into the summer of magic, and especially those who cling to the old ways but must learn to use the new.

· Baudovinia Aeldra & Eoc – They’re ‘old friends.’ What does a ghost consider friendship in this case? How can he be of comfort to Aeldra following her retirement?

· Baudovinia Aeldra/Ifig Everleigh – I need little old lady lesbians leaning into being there for each other, being enough for each other when ambition is laid to rest. Let them sit in a beautiful garden, and be at peace.

· Bax Twiford/Ibn Oxley – The continuing adventures! Can they ever figure out a way to use Ibn’s powers without nearly killing each other?

· Ima & Radegund – These two have very different ideas about the nature of power and responsibility but they can mentor each other through difficult times at Ikenfell…

· Pertisia Abednego/Maritte Hildegaard – I’d love to see some cute concert shenanigans where Maritte is cheering for her girlfriend SO LOUDLY among crowds of very fancy people…

· Petronella & Rook – I was so glad they managed to work their friendship out… I love the idea of older secret agent Rook working with older master alchemist Nel….

· Petronella & Sadio Liora – A missing moment where Nel teaches Sadio a little something about the alchemy they’ve been learning maybe? Or Sadio passes on the secrets of her best potions….mentorship!!

FAR: LONE SAILS

The tenderness and strength inherent in inheriting a lonely, uninhabited world with only an okomotive, an oppidumotive, and a mailbox to call home…and then losing both the vehicles and limping to the end with only the mailbox… Lone Henriksson, everyone, and I love her with all my heart.

· Lone & Okomotive - Missing moments on her travels! Taking a moment to shelter from a storm! There’s so much cool stuff you could do with the radio too… but I especially like the idea of Lone and the Okomotive being both characters that look after each other, in their respective ways, in their own rights.

DISCO ELYSIUM

I’m…honestly a little nervous requesting this one. I’m not shying away from the dark themes and inherent violence of this world, but I love exploring the moments of tenderness, of empathy, of connection, far more than dwelling on the vilenesses these characters can and do perpetrate on each other. So I guess all I ask is, not that you not talk about the violence inherent in being a cop in Martinaise, but that there is nuance here. A kind hand. And, above all: the Jamrock giraffes. They weren’t nommed so I can’t formally require them but…. I really want them. Just sayin’.

· Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi – Any kinds of small yearnings or tender moments… with giraffes.

· Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi & Lena/Morell – cryptid double date hunting… with giraffes.

· Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi & OR / Revachol – Look, you can see where my mind is here. Just…throw people into Jamrock and give me the damn giraffes already

· Kim Kitsuragi & Smoker on the Balcony - oh noooo a giraffe cryptid ate Sunday Friend and now Kim has to investigate whatever will they doooo

· Harry Du Bois & Ruby – Actually this might be too serious for giraffes. Ruby & Harry meet again under different circumstances (maybe Harry quit being a cop!) and talk about more about the implications of what she thought she knew about Lieutenant double-yefreitor Harrier DuBois…. (but if you…can slot giraffes in there…)

Thank you for making it all the way to the end! I hope something here spoke to you. Please enjoy Chocolate Box 2022 and see you at reveals!

[bob-events]

Friendship Bonanza Prompt List!

International Friendship Day is right around the corner, and our AO3 collection is going out to our authors any minute! That means we are excited to announce the prompt list for the friendship bonanza - which we have hidden under the “keep reading” because it’s ridiculously long. If you’d like to make a “gift” for any of the prompters, you are welcome to, and we just ask that you either post it to the AO3 collection and tag them (but please mark it as a “gift fill”) or post it on Tumblr and tag them AND us so we can share it! Happy Friending

@nowinnablewar AO3: unseelieCollapsar Will Accept: Fanfic, Other types of media Prompt 1: Skip bounces ideas off Easy Company for the letter he wants to send to Faye. Prompt 2: Easy Company craft a plan to get back at Sobel without getting caught. Prompt 3: A Yank staff correspondent (Reader or OC) interviews the officers at the Eagle's Nest. Prompt 4: Three Musketeers AU with Toye, Luz, Guarnere, and Buck

@softspeirs AO3: sunlightdances Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Speirs being soft (either gif moments from the show, art of your choice, or platonically with a canon character, or paired with an OC!) Prompt 2: Nixon + "I wish I didn't care about it" - gifs showing him caring about other characters canonically or fic with platonic friendship or background romance with an OC Prompt 3: Lipton being Easy's Mom and Dad. Fanart, a fic of a missing scene, or gifs from the show! (Post-war AU feat. a background romance is also ok too) Prompt 4: Any happy, smiley moments between Easy boys. Gifs of happy moments, fanart, or a fic of a moment we didn't see on the show! DNW: Character/character slash fic, modern AU

@serasvictoria AO3: Caren80 Will Accept: Fanfic, Other types of media Prompt 1: Chuck and Babe are supposed be doing guard duty at Membury airfield. Chuck takes Babe to a pub instead (this genuinely happened by the way). Prompt 2: It’s Christmas and since Easy is still stuck in Bois Jacques in Belgium, Joe Liebgott decides to share a Hershey bar with Chuck and Tab as a present. Prompt 3: We all know that Luz and Perconte ended up in a barn to steal eggs, but what happened before that scene? Who even came up with the idea to begin with? Prompt 4: It’s 1946 and word reaches Bill that Joe Toye is really struggling with the loss of his leg. He decides to show up at Joe’s place unannounced with Babe and together they will do their utmost to make sure that Joe cracks a smile. Prompt 5: After hearing Joe say that he could use some brass knuckles right before D-Day, Bill finds some for him.

@josephtoye AO3: corawrites Will Accept: Fanfic Prompt 1: Joe Liebgott & Floyd Talbert, one is trying to set the other up, or some other banter-y kind of situation Prompt 2: Johnny Martin & Bull Randleman, any historical AU Prompt 3: Buck Compton & Joe Toye, do with that what you will Prompt 4: Shifty Powers & Carwood Lipton, anything wholesome DNW: Any other characters, angst is okay provided it has a happy ending, no romantic pairings please

@churchkey AO3: churchkey Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Don Malarkey & Skip Muck. Canon-era. Don's not in love with Skip , he just wants to spend the rest of his life with him. Maybe the two of them talking about their plan for being "together" (as besties) after the war. Maybe some cute "I've never told anyone else this before" intimate self-revelations. Maybe Don's reaction to Winters splitting them into different platoons. Basically I just want any chapter in the epic love story of their friendship. Prompt 2: Don Malarkey & Skip Muck Post-War Fix-It. Don's the best man at Skip and Faye's wedding, wondering how this is going to change things and if anyone will over love him the way Skip loves Faye (bonus points for background Don/Joe [Toye that is]; pining, long-distance flirting, whatever) Prompt 3: Dick Winters & Harry Welsh. Post-VE Day. Dick is crestfallen after Nix leaves. Harry feels bad for him. He really does. He's also kind of like "now you know how it feels, don't ya?" Still, he hates to see his friend suffer. Just a couple of sad, lovelorn bastards being miserable together. Prompt 4: Dick Winters & Kitty Grogan/Welsh. Post-war or Modern AU (hence you decide if she takes Harry's name). Would super love these two just doing some GBF things together, shopping, getting coffee, complaining about their husbands and trading gardening tips. Maybe the convo gets a little spicy after dark. Maybe they've each got some private dilemma the other helps to solve. Or maybe they just wander around a flea market looking for good deals on Fiestaware. Prompt 5: Lewis Nixon & Harry Welsh. Post-War. ROADTRIP! (Bonus for background Winnix but it's not necessary). DNW: anything sci-fi/fantasy; OCs; xReader; Tab

@how-are-those-nuts-sarge AO3: whoahersheybars_3up3down Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Historian AU - one character worked at a museum/was a historian before the war and geeks out over a few things while deployed to their friends = any character/s. Prompt 2: Penmanship - one character has lovely handwriting, but something/s hit them HARD during the war and they write much less pretty; with one of their friends' support, however, their hand steadies and they heal (lotsa metaphors there I know 😅) = any character/s. Prompt 3: Chess - one character teaches the other to play chess = any character/s. Prompt 4: Bicycle - one character finds a tandem bicycle in Austria and convinces the other to go on a ride with them = any character/s. Prompt 5: Anything with Bill & Babe, Malarkey & Skip & Penkala, or Dick & Nix, I love their friendship dynamics so much.

@speirstookmysoul AO3: speirstookmysoul Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: mentor/mentee bonding Prompt 2: shoulder clasps Prompt 3: overdramatic arguments about non-important subjects Prompt 4: "getting mistaken as family and not correcting whoever’s mistaken”

@kmorecoffee AO3: vintagelavenderskies Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: gene and renee: diasastrous, chaotic cookie decorating! the rest of the gang can be involved too for extra chaos because who doesn't love chaos. anyways: gene and renee try to make holiday cookies but something goes awry. too much salt and not enough sugar? distracted and accidentally burn the cookies? luz plays a practical joke and switches out sugar for salt? go crazy! Prompt 2: gene and renee: stargazing!!! all the stargazing :) just two friends, vibing, talking about life and whatever comes to mind Prompt 3: can be modern au: chaos in the coffee shop! just the gang's shenanigans at the local coffee shop. mayhaps there's an ongoing bet of how long it takes luz to get banned? DNW: speirs. i mean, i guess he can be like mentioned or featured. but not too much speirs.

AO3: Muccamukk Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Renee & Augusta/Anna: Any backstory about how/if they knew each other before, their different points of view on things. AU where Renee doesn't die and what they do after the war. Would prefer racism not be the focus of the story, though it can be an element. I like it when there's queer characters and romance isn't the focus. Prompt 2: Winters & Guarnere: Something with them getting to know/respect each other better set early in their relationship, especially between Day of Days and Bastogne. They have such different outlooks, but in the end very similar values, and I'd love to see that explored. Maybe they get stuck together and have to survive? Prompt 3: Randleman & Garcia: I'd love to see more of Bull mentoring the replacements, especially Garcia, and how their relationship changes as the replacements get combat experience and integrate with the company. Would love to see growing respect for each other. I like it when there's queer characters and romance isn't the focus. Prompt 4: Guarnere & Martin: They have matching tattoos! They got in so much trouble with each other and were so ride or die even post war! Bill went to Martin's wedding! Pat and Frannie wrote too each other during the war. I would love them getting to know each other, or small moments of affection. Or just write about Pat and Frannie. That's fun too. Or Bill & Bull & Johnny. Or Bill & Joe Toye. Basically any configuration of this is great! Prompt 5: Powers & McClung: Basically them chilling in the woods silently understanding each other? Healing through chilling in the woods? Comparing their experiences as country boys on opposite sides of the country? Post war stuff where Shifty's so badly hurt and Earl's PTSD? I like it when there's queer characters and romance isn't the focus. DNW: Focus on character death (mention of canon stuff is fine), graphic sexual violence, hopeless endings of utter sadness, character bashing, zombies, AUs that change the setting (turn left AUs fine, AUs that add magic etc fine). PoV characters having strong racist or homophoic views.

@papersergeant-pencilsoldier AO3: papersky_pencilstars Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Airborne OT5 (Liebgott, Grant, Mcclung, Ramirez, Babe) missing scenes - can be fluffy or angsty (fallout from Chuck getting shot?), dealer's choice! Prompt 2: Mortar Trio - Early days at Camp Taccoa Prompt 3: Dukeman & Perconte & Tab (bonus Trigger?) teasing the replacements Prompt 4: Renée LeMaire  & Gene Roe- (everybody lives AU) connect postwar (I would die if this was a letter fic, but it absolutely does not have to be!) DNW: webgott (platonic or romantic background)

Prompter # 11 Will Accept: Fanfic Prompt 1: Dick, Nix, and Harry being involved in some shenanigans during their downtime in Mourmelon. Prompt 2: Bill and Babe reminiscing and sharing Philly stories. Prompt 3: The friendship between Smokey and Lip because I think it deserves more hype :) DNW: Nothing NSFW

@dansssks​ AO3: danesaber Prompt 1: Dick & Nix: The time they offered to protect Kitty for ice cream and Vat 69. Prompt 2: Spina/Babe/Gene: College AU? Prompt 3: Spina & anyone: They show Spina all their booboos Prompt 4: Mortar Squad: Any au, cannon or modern Prompt 5: Harry and Moose: Go sheep shopping as a present for Winnix on their new farm.

@anthrobrat AO3: anthrobrat Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Any of the Last Patrol OT5 (Chuck, Babe, Lieb, McClung, Ramirez) owning a business together - coffeshop, bar, accounting firm? Don't care. Can either be a post-war or modern AU setting. Prompt 2: Skinny Sisk and anyone being bros during the war. Maybe him and Frank deleted scenes in Bastogne fox holes Prompt 3: Shifty & McClung shenanigans during leave. The cat story is hilarious, and I'm sure there are more, and I just love these two because they are so calm and collected but McClung is a total wild card. I would also take a modern AU of them being besties. Prompt 4: Shifty and Popeye being best friends after the war maybe? I just imagine them at each other's weddings being disasters. I would also take the two of them as friends in a modern AU Prompt 5: Any friendship prompt that gives life to the lesser known characters would be awesome imo. DNW: Speirs or Lipton as main protagonists.

Prompter # 13 Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: shifty powers and floyd talbert - mermaid/fisher au Prompt 2: babe heffron x reader - ice hockey/team manager Prompt 3: dick winters x reader - college au! tutor au Prompt 4: easy company boarding school au DNW: pwp/smut

@mercurygray AO3: mercurygray Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Harry + Nixon - marriage, divorce, and everything in between. Prompt 2: Shifty + Smokey - Guess we're not in Kansas anymore - or Mississippi, or Virginia. Prompt 3: Tab + Grant - Chuck's really just here to keep Tab out of trouble. Prompt 4: Bill + Babe - First jump's the hardest - and while the jump into Holland is easy, what comes after it is not. Prompt 5: Tipper + Luz -  Tipper's pretty good at impressions, too. DNW: Liebgott and Webster (as a unit; individually they're fine.)

@lyselkatz AO3: Lysel Will Accept: Fanfic Prompt 1: Any group shenanigans/friendship fluff including Skip, Smokey, Nix, Bull. Prompt 2: "The guys are stranded on base without pass (or requisitioned to work overtime to meet an important deadline/exams, if modern AU) Prompt 3: Smokey does his best to cheer his brothers up with his peculiar brand of silly (Valentine) gifts. Extra ❤ if Skip and George offer their help. Chaos and ensemble fluff ensue. (+ playing Cupid/background ships if you like)" Prompt 4: "Lieb and Hoobs are bored so they decide to troll Web. Since it's valentine's day soon they'll play crack!cupid for fun. Prompt 5: Web is a shark nerd and Pat has a great shark smile. Infallible logic, right? (Input from the other guys /ensemble shenanigans are welcome)" DNW: Nothing I can think of, since it's a friendship fest

Prompter #16 Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: found family taking care of each other (feat. liebgott being happy and content <3) domestic fluff Prompt 2: anything fluffy coffee shop AU or flower shop or tattoo parlour or bakery or anything along those lines Prompt 3: university AU but they are the professors! DNW: webgott, fantasy AUS, omegaverse, mpreg, anything mafia related, not too much angst

Prompter #17 Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Era switch: take the boys and put them in the Vietnam War. WWI? The Korean War? The American Revolution? Any conflict that you're comfortable with. Prompt 2: The Pacific AU? Put the BoB men in the Pacific. How they get there or why they are there is all up to you. Maybe their parachute infantry regiment was simply assigned to the PTO instead of the ETO after training. Maybe Japan didn't surrender as quickly as they did. Anything. Prompt 3: Supernatural AUs are my favorite. Preferably I'd love to keep them based in the WWII era, but you can switch it up if you'd like to -- I'd be fine with that! Any type of supernatural is cool with me. I'm aware this might be super vague but I really don't mind whatever you go with :) Prompt 4: Role-switching scenarios: putting men from within the series in each others' positions. DNW: Romantic shipping, characters (Cobb, Sobel, any higher ranking officers above Winters like Sink), modern-day AUs, aged-down AUs (high school/middle school/college with the purpose of aging down = no); a/b/o trope; nsfw (no sexual material; show-level gore okay).

@mariamegale AO3: mariamegale Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Babe and Julian being best friends. They are snarky, excited, happy and having a good time together. Bonus if their boyfriends are Eugene and Spina, accordingly! Prompt 2: Baberoe. They're dating, but they're dating their own best friends. With romantic feelings taking the back seats, I'd love to see a healthy relationship of two people in love but doing normal platonic things because they're also each others' best friends in the whole world! Prompt 3: Roe and Spina being tired doctor friends, meeting up in between shifts or calls, being tired and exasperated and just having their sandwiches and a moment of god damn peace. Prompt 4: George Luz and Babe Heffron being best friends. They'd be a disaster, but that disaster that also knows how to step the fuck up if shit gets serious. But mostly they're a disaster. Prompt 5: Joe Liebgott and Eugene Roe. They're roommates, they're pals, Joe likes smoking weed, playing mario kart and complaining about whatever dipshit he's gone out with now, Eugene is trying to make it through med school and enjoys the soothing background chatter of Joe blabbering on about this guy's shirt, or whatever. DNW: Canon era (Ambiguous era is fine if you don't like writing/drawing modern!), Carwood Lipton, OCs, xReader stuff

@mizunoir AO3: mizunoir (but I use 49thpersona for reblogging stuff) Will Accept: Fanfic, Other types of media Prompt 1: Hogwarts AU! Would be lovely if it would include Babe. I leave it up to the artist if they would like to portray one specific house endeavours or all 4 houses befriending. Prompt 2: Stargazing, can be set in modern times or in the original timeline. For angsty interpretation it would be nice to read/see some Eugene and Spina bonding. Prompt 3: Stargazing (original timeline or modern times). For more crack-ish one it could include for example: Luz, Toye, Guarnere, Babe etc. But I leave it absolutely open - include whoever you want! Boys share their music taste. Bickering and reminiscing of the good times free of war ensues. Can be platonic, can be slightly shippy, AU or modern - up to the artist. Preferably including Babe with Eugene.

@thrillingdetectivetales AO3: ThrillingDetectiveTales Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart, Other types of media Prompt 1: Bill & Babe: Bill talks Babe through gay panic about his extremely obvious crush on one John T. Julian, convinces him to ask Julian out, and demands to officiate their wedding (not necessarily in that order) Prompt 2: Harry & Nix (with bonus Buck?): commiserating about trying to keep Dick out of trouble Prompt 3: Blanche Nixon & Ann Winters: they know each other because their idiot brothers are """"friends"""" but they both know what's up and cover for Dick and Nix at various times throughout their lives Prompt 4: Kitty Grogan & Franny Guarnere & Pat Martin: they meet because their fellas are on the line together and keep each other sane throughout the war Prompt 5: Floyd Talbert is everyone's best buddy DNW: No mpreg/pregnancy in general, no rape/non-con (dub-con like drunk!sex or sex pollen or hatesex is fine), no modern AUs, no ABO/dynamics, no kidfic.

Prompter #21 Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Speirs & Shames: These stern, "unlikable" men are just not very social or nice, but they get each other. Outcast gay solidarity. Prompt 2: Kitty & Nixon/Winters: Nixon and/or Winters gets to meet Harry's special girl at last. Harry's made her sound like the romantic lead of a novel and really cool, and they are completely unprepared for the tall, awkward chess club captain. Prompt 3: Babe & Guarnere: Post-war readjusting of a friendship. Disability, marriage, kids on the way, Babe is gay. You know, the usual. DNW: xReader, OCs, hopeless angst, AUs, heavy focus on heterosexuality

@aloraundomiel AO3: ElfLadyArwen Will Accept: Fanfic, Fanart Prompt 1: Dick admires Eugene’s medical skill and always shows interest in learning from him while he’s on the job. Eugene uses it to his advantage, making sure Dick takes care of himself (because shaving doesn’t count) under the guise of ‘teachable moments.’ Any battlefield setting would work. Prompt 2: Nix and Harry are joined at the hip, two class clowns who wind each other up.  When one gets them into deep trouble, the other one is always there to get them out again. Prompt 3: Dick Winters is jealous of Ronald Spiers ruthlessness/ability to detach and athletic prowess. Ronald Spiers is jealous of Dick’s empathy and ability to earn loyalty through compassion. Each man agrees to give the other lessons in order to be more well rounded leaders. DNW: Please no Blithe. Never Blithe. You can leave out Compton too.

@bandofmorons AO3: bandofmorons (pseud for sonsofmahal) Will Accept: Fanfic Prompt 1: Babe & Lieb friendship!! I don't have a ton of specifics for this, I just want them being friends and getting into shenanigans but also being supportive of each other... like they're just guys bein' dudes but they're also pretty close ya know! They take care of each other when they need to! Ideally this would be a modern AU, maybe they're college roommates or something? Prompt 2: But mostly I just want to see them goofing off but also being helpful when shit goes down or something, because that's what friends are for. Prompt 3: Some kind of traveling AU with the 5 officers (Winters, Nix, Harry, Lip and Speirs) all as friends and how going on a big trip like that can strain a friendship when something goes wrong or just from people being tired from traveling so much... maybe it's a cross-county roadtrip, maybe it's spring break in Europe, maybe they're going backpacking in New Zealand or something.. I just wanna see how all those 5 boys' different personalities interact on a big logistical venture! Prompt 4: I'm not picky about who necessarily but I want to see Webster getting close to & forming a close friendship with someone in Easy! I feel like in the show/fandom he gets a bad rap for being pretentious (which, fair) but I think it would be awesome to see him becoming good friends with someone and feeling more accepted among the company bc of it. This could be a canon-compliant thing or it could be a modern AU where the boys are all friends. Background Webgott would also be cool as long as Lieb is supportive of Web befriending more people. DNW: explicit sex

[oxnardsart]

Hmm, yesterday a friend wrote a long story, not quite my thing, but sometimes I read them anyway... but I kinda really didn’t want to. Just seeing a big wall of text, of stuff you don’t really know about and aren’t super excited for... I realized, that’s definitely how a lot of people are gonna see my writing too, no matter what I do with it. I myself always say, I love writing, but I really don’t like reading. It really does feel like a bit of a mistake to have gone into writing instead of comics, but, comics weren’t doable, and even if writing doesn’t get the same feedback, I’m at least really enjoying the work I do on it, and hope others will too.

I’ve been busy and haven’t updated Boxer Beats much, I sure switched between quick doodles and weekly updates, to consistent artless updates, to realizing I really couldn’t do that, and going back to updating when I can... to being stuck undecided. Even now I kinda think, maybe I should just release all the text and do printed stuff and focus on the art for it later. And a more unreasonable voice thinks, “Hey people like visual novels better, do you wanna try putting all your text into that and figuring out how to program renpy.” ...I’m really hoping I don’t. X3 There are many out there already. But, if it was like a free VN, I wonder if that’d get out more. It probably wouldn’t change my feedback issue though. X3

Anyway, when am I gonna be less busy... GDQ kept me busy a whole week, so this week I have plenty to catch up on, uh later in the month I’ll be a lil busy again... and I sure stay busy with friends and social stuff and games. ono; I wish I was better at making time for all this. But, it’s mostly just stress on myself, no one else is gonna sweat over my own projects! But I would love to be abe to make the art I want to, make time to finish the second half of the book, post and share it all, and move onto other projects. I don’t wanna spend years doing all that... I feel bad for starting this two years ago and being such a slow, sporadic all over the place mess with posting... pokemon can sure churn out games each year, I can’t do some giant story on my own in my downtime? >w> Well, it is a big project...

Hehe, just needed to write this all somewhere, and twitter can’t fit it all. Also, apparently even linking to my site on twitter might make it show up less in their algorithms... there really aren’t many story-friendly places out there. X3 So, after this I’ll definitely go back to art, or comics if possible - we’ll  see. :3 I just hope I wrap this all up sooner than later somehow in a way I don’t mind.

[oversimplify-it]

Story Process Tag by @herpixels​

I was tagged by @dynastiasimss​ - Thank you so much for tagging me!! 😊💖💗 This will most definitely get a bit wordy because I’m terrible at explaining things concisely! 😂 Also, I’ll mostly be talking about my process for 2.B.A Grandmaster but I’ll touch on my process for Erin in San Myshuno too!

I’m also going to get tags out of the way up here so that no one has to scroll all the way through this ... absolute novel that is under the cut LMAO so I tag: @cyansimblr  @x-simss @matchacake and any other simblrs who wanna do this!! and feel free to skip if you want!

1. Your writing process My writing process is very, very chaotic, and changes with the wind... Erin in San Myshuno doesn’t really have a process, I just play the game and then put in some dialogue based on the events. None of it is guided by my hand at all though! 2.B.A Grandmaster on the other hand is written in part based on what happens in game and in part by my own creative vision. Most of the time, I let stuff happen, and then fill in the blanks in between events. I go in game, play Sims as I normally would (skill build, take care of needs, go out to venues, etc.) and then watch what weird and interesting things happen. For example, Augusta’s meeting with Xavier in the beginning was completely the game’s doing! He was the only one to show up for the Welcome Wagon event, so I rolled with that. Scenes like Kaitlin’s meeting with Maverick and those sort of things are planned by me, as they’re necessary to create a more full narrative! It’s like collaborative storytelling, but my “partner” is a game that is weird and random and crazy. 😂 After stuff happens in game and I get screenshots, I then actually write for it. I chose to write novel style for the series because - as some of my long-term followers may remember - I had another story that was just screenshots with dialogue on them? And it was very hard, LOL, it didn’t suit my workflow very well and I ended up dropping it after a month or so. I wanted 2.B.A Grandmaster to be something I could post consistently, and so I opted for a style that I was more familiar and experienced with!

2. Scene building For the most part, I just work with what sims gives me, but as I mentioned above, some scenes I actually go to the trouble of setting up. For those, I still use the sims animations mostly (I’ve used poses about 3 times in 2.B.A Grandmaster so far) but I do usher my sims around the "set” as I see fit. I build a lot of my own lots and locations for 2.B.A GM because I tend to get a vision in my mind of what I want and refuse to settle for less. 😂 One such case is the scene where Maverick meets up with Octavia--

I made the alleyway we see here - it’s two entirely empty buildings sandwiched side by side on an otherwise empty lot in Oasis Springs. The only part I bothered to decorate was the alley itself because I knew I wasn’t going to use the rest of the area, but maybe we’ll revisit it sometime and I’ll finish the two buildings! I actually loved making this set and like how it turned out, LOL~

Then I just have whatever sims are involved in a scene interact with each other for ages until I feel like I have enough screenshots to make a scene. I usually have a vague idea of what’s going to be said in any given scene - especially the ones I actually planned out beforehand - but I get some excess screenshots to be safe. I try lots of different interactions and pause like every few frames to get interesting expressions and stuff, LOL. Lots of “Complain about Cold Weather” and “Give fake bad news” ...

3. CC/Pose making I don’t actually make my own CC for 2.B.A GM specifically (I’ve made a couple eyeshadows but I don’t use them super frequently) but there is a scene coming up in the future that I plan to make poses for. I have a very clear image in my mind that includes a lot of subtle expressions and very specific things that I doubt I could find poses for, so I’m gonna have to brave the terrifying landscape of blender in order to make it a reality. 😧

4. Getting in the zone I don’t have any sort of “ok, show time” ritual like some people do but I wish I did, because my motivation waxes and wanes so unpredictably. Some days I just don’t feel like doing anything, and other days I edit and write for 5 posts in a row! I am always listening to something though, usually music, every once in a blue moon a video with lots of talking. 5. Screenshot folder

UGH... 

6. Captions I don’t do captions on 2.B.A GM posts, but for my city living gameplay I do! I keep them simple, because I don’t want to make it too much work for myself. Erin in San Myshuno’s style of editing is 100% based around ease, because I wanted something to post often that didn’t put too much of a strain on me. Verdana in white, typically 35-40 px, with a gradient border. Each sim we encounter has a different gradient color, usually based on their outfit or just the ~vibe~ I get from them. Erin’s gradient is Hot pink to ... gee, what would you call it. Sonic the Hedgehog Blue LMAO-- I chose that gradient because that’s the color of the overlay, which I’ll talk more about in the next section!

7. Editing My two ‘series’ - and I use that term loosely LMAO - have different editing processes, so I’ll try to summarize them both. Basically, for 2.B.A Grandmaster, I touch up the saturation and brightness depending on the scene. If it’s evening in the shots, I usually won’t touch brightness, and if it’s night, I might even lower it a bit for more accurate lighting! Once that’s done, I blur everything but relevant elements of a scene, usually the character we’re following or who is speaking. I have to select the character from the background manually which takes a bit, but other than that it’s very minimal.

My shots aren’t super glamorous, but I prefer simple screenshots and actually being able to keep up with a story schedule as opposed to what happened with my last story. 😬 As for Erin in San Myshuno, barring captions which I only do when I feel it’s necessary, it’s literally just an overlay on otherwise untouched screenshots. 😭 I would do more, but again, it’s supposed to be an easy downtime sort of series for me so~

This goes over top all screenshots on the “Add” setting at 20% opacity. It brightens things up and softens them, as well as making the colors slightly more harmonious! If anyone wants me to go more in depth on editing, or maybe captions, please let me know! I’m happy to talk about it if it’ll help anyone, and I know that a lot of tutorials cover how to do stuff in Photoshop, whereas I use FireAlpaca (which is 100% free btw! It’s more of an art program, but not bad for editing) 8. Throwback!

Oh boy, so this is one of my first posts on simblr. For starters, I didn’t know about camera mode at the time, so that’s the first thing I would change obviously LOL. 😬 The framing I did at the time was ... cute, but it makes the pictures feel kind of cramped and small in my opinion, so I did away with that for all of my later stories. Also, Amy and Gemma aren’t very well centered in this picture! Other than that, this isn’t actually terrible I don’t think, so aside from maybe blurring the background as I do on 2.B.A GM now, I wouldn’t change too much! Thankfully, I had observed other people’s stories before making my own on here for a little bit, so I wasn’t starting with absolutely no idea what to do, but I still think I’ve improved since I made these. 😊

This was a ton of fun!! If anyone has questions or wants more info on anything I covered in here, absolutely feel free to ask, and thank you so much if you actually read through all of this - I know I rambled for quite a while!! 🙏

[overheardatthecontinental]

Kinktober Day 25: Teacher/student (all characters 18+)

Helen had always wanted to be a teacher. Since before she started primary school, she would line up her stuffed animals and dolls and would tell them every single thing that she knew. Every day, she could teach them a little bit more and it excited her.

She tutored elementary kids in middle school, and middle schoolers during high school. She tutored high schoolers in college. Teaching had been her dream. Her life’s goal.

And she was good at it. 

She went to college, to graduate school. And once she flew through the program with amazing grades and a fantastic internship, she had her pick of jobs. And more debt than she knew what to do with. 

She taught elementary students during the day and, to help pay off her loans, she began to teach GED classes at night.

It wasn’t as much fun as playing with kids and teaching them basic math. And sometimes it was nearly impossible to teach classes when everyone was at a different level and half her students didn’t fully understand English.

But there was also something incredible about teaching grown men and women, who for whatever reason, had been robbed of their education. There was something beautiful about watching them accomplish something.

And so she stuck with it.

She stuck with late night teaching four nights a week. She stuck with teaching students she struggled to communicate with without the help of translation books and apps. She stuck with teaching classes of grown men who were oddly proud to be hot for teacher.

The start of the school term was always a bit overwhelming. At the start of the year, there were three times the number of students that would be there at graduation and her room was packed. 

She began with a smile, introducing herself to the class, insisting they call her Helen, and calling for attendance.

It was the usual hodgepodge of classes. Men and women of all ages, multiple ethnicities. Some were eagerly leaning forward and ready to learn. Others seemed disinterested and a few had their phones in hand as she talked.

But the one who caught her attention sat in the back corner. He was one of the first to make his way to the classroom. Quiet and studious, he came prepared for every class and often reading for his own pleasure.

Every student has a story. Some had dropped out of high school to help aging parents or take care of siblings or babies. Some had to pay the bills or were homeless. Some had immigrated late in life. Others had flunked out the first time around.

She wondered about him. Obviously bright, from their first interaction.

He was sitting next to an elderly Vietnamese man who was struggling to find work without a diploma. He struggled with English pronunciation and reception although he could read it just fine.

Helen had been trying to communicate with him and had been ready to write down the instructions for him when John had coughed.

In a perfect string of Vietnamese, John had spoken to Anh, who nodded along excitedly before nodding to Helen, "yes, teacher." He said and Helen smiled, looking to John in surprise.

"You speak Vietnamese?"

He shrugs, "Rudimentary. Enough to get by."

Clearly more than that, since he was able to communicate instructions. She said as much and John shrugged.

"I have an ear for languages."

"What others do you know?" She asks with interest and his face flushes just a bit.

"I can get by in most Slavic dialects, and Spanish, Italian, and Mandarin. And English, of course."

He was brilliant, she soon discovered.

Utterly so.

He knew languages and literature. He knows about art and culture. He simultaneously fascinates her and makes her feel utterly small at the same time.

He’s well-traveled and while she can describe the works of Bernini from pictures, he has seen them up close. Idly, he mentions traveling to Rome for business.

She’s not quite sure what business a Slavic man has in Rome, nor what kind of job he has managed to snag without a diploma, but she doesn’t ask. Instead, she asks him about the sistine chapel and the colosseum and other things she’ll probably never get to see in the downtime before class starts, as well as in it’s end, as he stays to help her clean up.

A week into class, she has everyone split into pairs work on their critical reasoning skills through language arts. A young, pretty little brunette from Estonia asks John to be her partner. He accepts and she feels a surge of jealousy that she tamps down on quickly. He’s her student, she reminds herself. And there are ethics and boundaries and her feelings do not matter.

She forces herself to walk around the classroom, offering assistance.

And then she hears it. Maria says something to John in Estonian and he replies in kind. The words spill from his lips and she has no idea what he’s saying but Christ, he sounds so good saying it.

It sends a shiver down her spine and Helen knows that she has to be careful.

She’s never been tempted by a student before.

Occasionally, the boys in her class flirted with her. A few times, she was propositioned. It had never crossed her mind to do anything with it. 

Another one of her students, Rafe, has no problem flirting with her whenever he enters her class. He’s young and tall and handsome, but she feels nothing. Not even a flicker of attraction. Which, she reminds herself, is good. 

What isn’t good is the way her heart races when John walks into the room or the way her body aches when he starts to speak in another language.

Boundaries, she reminds herself.

Boundaries.

It’s easier when others are around. When they’re in a room filled with students, she can busy herself with others. She can remind herself that he is a student, sitting on the opposite side of the classroom.

Its when they all leave, save John. When the class is empty and she is left alone with him, cleaning up and organizing papers, she starts to struggle. She’s reaching to tuck a stack of books away in the corner above the closet when a few of the books start to tip, like they’ll fall. She reaches with her second hand to try to protect her head from the falling books when she feels a hard body pressing into her back. 

An arm reaches up around her and tucks the books onto the shelf. 

She has the urge to sigh with relief but her breath becomes stuck in her chest as she remembers who she is with.

John.

That’s his body pressed into hers. His warmth she feels.

And, Jesus fuck, that can’t possibly be his dick pressed against her ass. 

All at once, she can’t move. She can’t breathe.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“You’re welcome.”

He doesn’t move.

Her heart is racing and Helen slips out from under his arms. “You know,” she says, backing up, “You really don’t have to help. Not that I don’t appreciate it. I really do, but it’s part of my job.”

He is watching her, a small smile on his face that throws her completely off guard.

John steps forward and Helen finds herself continuing to move backward until, fuck, she hits the blackboard.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Of course not.” The words fall too quickly from her lips and John’s smile widens. His hands come up on either side of her.

"You're shaking."

Oh. Was she?

Maybe.

But how could she help it when John was crowding her. She could smell him, the musky scent of his aftershave. 

God, he smells so good. 

He looks so good. He sounds so good. John Wick was a walking wet dream and he was her student. Her student. And this wasn't appropriate and as the authority figure, it was her responsibility to maintain the boundaries.

It was a ridiculous thought, she acknowledges. That she is the authority figure while John has her boxed in against a wall.

"Helen," he says softly, tilting her head up, "I can feel you thinking and it’s time to stop.”

“Stop thinking?”

And holy fuck, his fingers are tracing her jaw, running along her hair and carefully removing it from its hold. Dark hair spills down around her shoulders and John runs his hand down the length.

“Yeah.”

Yeah? What was he saying yes to? She couldn’t even remember what they had been speaking about seconds before because John was leaning down and his lips were on hers.

Fuck.

His lips were warm and surprisingly soft but he is far from gentle. Desperation lines his kiss as he tilts her head back and shoves his tongue into her mouth. Whatever noise of protest she tried to make is swallowed by John.

His knee nudges its way between her legs, pushing them apart. His thigh makes her skirt ride up as his hands travel down her body, stopping at her hips. His fingers dig into her and she can’t help the little cry that escapes her at his punishing grip. They bite into her before moving again, traveling south towards the hem of her skirt.

Helen tries to turn her head, to break the kiss but John just leans into her, warning her with a small nip to her lips as he drags the skirt up her legs, teasingly slow.

This isn’t right, she thinks. Yes, they’re both adults but she’s still his teacher. She manages to get her hands between them, to push John off her but he doesn’t budge. He’s like a fucking rock and Helen tries to ignore how his body feels against her palms.

He’s hard and solid and her hands are feeling the muscles she’s only imagined but it still isn’t right. Ethical duties and obligations distract her, make her heart race both with excitement and anxiety as John sucks at her tongue.

And then she feels his teeth, biting down on her muscle and Helen lets out a startled shriek as John pulls back.

“Stop thinking.” He tells her again but this time, there’s an edge to it. This wasn’t a tease or a taunt anymore. It was an order and she feels it viscerally, traveling down her body and resting in her core, warming her all the way even as her hairs stand on end.

God, she wants to stop thinking. She wants to say to hell with it all and let him fuck her right there, against the blackboard, consequences be damned. But this is her job. And she has ethical duties. Moral obligations. 

Helen shakes her head as John’s hands slip under her skirt, dragging along her thighs and stopping at the edge of her panty hose. “You’re my student. This is wrong, we c--”

“What’s wrong,” John interrupts and he snaps the garter that holds her hose up, “Is you walking around this classroom in these tight skirts. It’s fucking sinful. Do you know what you do to me every time you bend over to help somebody?”

John grabs her hand from where it rests on his chest and yanks it to the bulge in his pants.

The breath leaves her chest as he flattens her palm over his clothed length.

“You feel what you do to me?”

Helen can’t pretend she hasn’t imagined touching him. Really touching him and feeling him. Peeling that fucking suit off him to see the body he hides beneath. To grasp at his long hair as she bounces on his cock.

Everything starts to shake and it takes her a moment to realize that it’s her, trembling against him. And John is moving his hips, gently, grinding against her palm.

She wants to reach inside his pants, to really feel him in her hand, not just through the stupid cloth.

Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries. 

“Look at you,” he thrusts against her hand, “trying so hard to be good when you’ve spent all night walking around, looking like that.”

Helen bites her lip. Her outfit isn’t revealing. She’s wearing a pink blouse that buttons down the middle and it’s tucked into her grey skirt. They’re form fitting but not so tight as to be revealing, in any way.

“Everytime you bend over me, I keep hoping those tits will spill out. But maybe they just need a little help.” His releases her hand from his dick and reaches up to the top button of her blouse. He slips it easily, trailing his hand down her blouse, snapping each open with ease.

He exhales a growl at the sight of her white, lacy bra and Helen feels her panties start to soak as John takes her in.

“Un-fucking-believable.” He mutters, shaking his head. He grasps the sides of her shirt and pushes back and tears it down her arms, letting it fall to the floor.

Helen, at once, realizes two things. First, that she is completely exposed. Second, that her hand is still resting on his dick.

She quickly moves it away, a flush tainting her cheeks as she tries to cover herself from his sight.

John uses her covering her tits to his advantage, quickly unzipping her skirt and pushing it over her hips.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he shakes his head in awe at the matching panties and garter set. “Dressing like that, practically waiting for me, weren’t you?”

“No!” She is quick to protest, moving her hands so as best to cover herself.

“Then who’re you dressing for, huh?” And now his tone is taunting, “We both know you’re single, don’t we, kiska?”

She shivers at the bit of Russian thrown in at the end but she shakes her head, “I’m not.” She lies, quickly looking for another way out because he doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck about the ethical boundaries of her being his teacher. And guys have that code, don’t they? “I’m not single. I… have a boyfriend.”

He tilts his head to the side, eyes flashing dangerously as he clicks his tongue, “Don’t lie to me, Helen. Bad girls get punished.” He catches her chin between two fingers and forces her to look up at him. “Who were you dressing for?”

Helen wants to deny it, again, feeling that flush rush to her cheeks. Truthfully, she hadn’t put on the lingerie with John directly in mind but she couldn’t deny that she had thought about this. About John cupping her breasts and her sex through lace. But they were thoughts. Idle and personal and meant only for her imagination.

She tries to avoid the question, “We can’t do thi--”

He pushes her chin further up, pressing her back into the blackboard. It was cold before but it feels like ice against her bare back.

“You’re a good teacher, kiska, but I think it’s time somebody taught you some fucking manners.” He leans down, his beard brushing delightfully against her soft cheek as he whispers, “When I ask you a question, you answer it. Understand?”

Gone is the taunt. This is an order and, fuck her sideways, but she feels compelled to follow it. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

She licks her lips, “Yes, sir.”

John rewards her with a smile as he pulls back. “Good girl. I suppose you can be a good student, can’t you, kiska? Now, who did you wear this for?” His finger toys with the strap of her bra. “Hmmm?”

Helen swallows heavily, “You, sir.”

He rubs her shoulder, “Good girl. You’ve learned your first lesson.”

First? Of course, she realizes, John is far from done.

His hands trail down her body, ghosting her breasts and sliding down her torso roughly. A hand slips into her panties and Helen turns her head to the side, embarrassed as the state of her panties.

A grin breaks over John’s face as he teases her slit and finds it soaking. “You’re fucking dripping.” He tells her, easily slipping a finger inside her. She bites her lip to suppress a moan, “And you were really trying to resist it, weren’t you?”

She nods, helplessly, as John slides a second finger into her soaking pussy.

He groans in delight, “Second lesson, kiska, rules are made to be broken.”

“This is wrong. You’re my student…” His fingers curl inside her and her head shoots back, leaning against the chalkboard as she resists the urge to moan.

“We only got so many years on this Earth,” John murmurs, rubbing his thumb against her clit as his fingers rub circles inside her, “and you think we should deny ourselves pleasures because of a silly thing like ethics? Kiska, I’m going to tear down every ethic you have.”

John’s fingers slip out of her and Helen finds herself moaning at the loss. Before she can think too much on that, however, John’s hands find her hips and she is hoisted into the air and carried over the handful of feet to the desk. Her desk. Where she teaches from and grades from and sits as her students work. It’s clear, now, save for two small piles of paper.

John ignores them, laying Helen on top of the desk. On top of papers she needs to grade and she can’t bring herself to care anymore. 

He climbs on top of her, undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. Helen licks her lips, staring at the space between them as John pulls out his hard, thick cock. He pushes her panties to the side and rubs the head of his length against her wet folds. She can’t help but watch, completely transfixed by the sight.

“Ready for lesson three, kiska?” He taunts. Helen opens her mouth with a protest, a last hail Mary, but before she can respond, John shoves inside her. “You belong to me.”

A shout escapes her as John coats himself in her juices, pulling out just a bit before slamming back in aggressively. His hips collide with hers and Helen whimpers at the glorious intrusion.

Her body struggles to adjust to make room for him as he quickly begins to thrust in and out of her.

“You’re mine.” He tells her, tugging her body against his, “my little kiska.”

Gone is the sweet, kind man who helps her put away books and clean the classroom. In his place, he has left someone dark and possessive. His words scream in her head you belong to me and that terrifies her and excites her all the same.

Hadn’t she wished for this? For the rules to just disappear so that she could have this man to herself?

The rules seemed so ridiculous now, as he fucks her into oblivion, letting the thoughts slide from her head until all she can think is yes and more.

John grinds himself down against her and she cries out in pleasure, arching herself forward and burying her head in shoulder as he brings her closer and closer to her own delightful ending. John teases her, adjusting his pace, before slamming back into her. 

His arms go around her, holding her in place so he can better use her.

Helen moans and whimpers and delights him with every little sound that escapes her pretty mouth.

“Look at you, kiska,” he teases, “So desparate for me, hmmm? Do you know how hard it was for me not to take you that first day? Looking so innocent, like you don’t even realize there are monsters in the world.”

He grinds down again and Helen tightens her own grip on John, moaning as he continues to move against her.

“So sweet, so patient…” he continues, “Who would have thought you could be so needy.”

He slows his pace and Helen whines, trying to grind up against him but it isn’t the same. She hears a small laugh in her ear and then John begins again.

“I”m gonna take such good care of you.” He tells her, “You won’t need this night job to get by anymore. You’re gonna spend your nights taking care of something else.” He drives into her and Helen cries out, feeling that heat swirling around her tummy. It feels so good, she can’t even bring herself to try and remember if she’s told the class that this is just her night job.

Nothing matters except the feeling that he is bringing her.

It builds, it builds, and builds until it is too much to take. Until it comes crashing down around her and she screams against his shoulder. 

John’s grip only tightens on her as she grunts at his own release and she feels the strong waves of cum spill inside her as he rocks out the last of his own orgasm.

Her body feels heavy and exhausted but John holds her close and whispers, “You’re mine now, kiska.”

....

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