#this started as like 2 sentences then ballooned

[stanwixbuster]

jynx absolutely fascinates me as a game dev because they're like. inspiration but in the opposite way of literally everything they've ever done

jynx decided they want to make touhou-like shmups, and decided to approach this by building most patterns around extremely fast bullets relying entirely on player reaction or having already seen a pattern before, infamously the most disliked and player-antagonistic way of approaching bullet hells

jynx added a great iteration on touhou-like shmups with flash bombing, an infinitely regenerating way to clear bullets if you put yourself in active danger in contrast to the use of bombs as a safe but finite resource, and then made sure you could only use it if you aren't focusing your shots, which you spend over 90% of a touhou-like doing

jynx created "absurdly extra" stages just as a complete fuck you to the player. half of them are humanly impossible to complete

jynx's version of character development is to add more characters. jynx will drop one of the most fascinating backstories you've ever heard that has groundbreaking and sweeping impacts on len'en lore, yet somehow being entirely consistent with it, and then proceed to do literally nothing and minutes later introduce another character with one of the most fascinating backstories you've ever heard. len'en has 40+ characters and all of them have been in perpetual Big Things Are Coming hell for over half a decade

jynx has spent over an alledged 15 years working on the world and lore in mugenri and the outside world, desperately wants to share this and continually mentions the short stories and lore dumps they write, which we never see, because they have somehow convinced themself the only way to show this story is through touhou-likes, which are notable for showing "story" as an excuse for people to shoot bullets at each other

jynx treats feature creep like an arms race. there isn't a single idea they come up with that doesn't end up in a game or is planned to at a later date. len'en 4 is still technically unfinished despite it having enough paths to dwarf all the previous len'en games combined thrice over and featuring the entire cast of the series in it (i will stress again, 40+ characters), and they've promised a dlc with even more stuff to do

jynx wanted to make a mobile cafe management simulator after having made nothing but bullet hell shmups on pc, just because it sounded fun, realised their previous tools couldn't make mobile games well, realised they'd be going in entirely blind on a new tech stack, realised they'd be going in blind on a genre they have no experience with, decided to tag on a second entire game to the cafe management with a turn-based rpg, realised they also have no experience with that genre, continued anyway, learnt how to use unity from the ground up, realised the multitude of issues unity development brings, decided every single character also needed to be in this one with unique boss battles, realised the problems of having 40+ character assets and 5min+ music themes in a mobile game that very infamously is a platform you need to stick to strict asset and tech limitations, decided to stream in assets from a server, made it a live service game because it would be online and that was an obvious next step, stuck through it, totalling in five years of dev time to make a full "gacha" game that is generous beyond belief and makes them a net zero in ad revenue vs server costs

jynx iterates nothing. literally everything you see in their games is the first go and if it sucks, too bad

jynx creates all their music with default fl studio sounds and the touhou trumpet. everything's unmixed. they earnestly believe that loud = better

jynx, allegedly, "blacks out" when making music after hitting some kind of flow state, and wakes up with a complete track. like everything else, these are never iterated on

jynx wrote the entirety of len'en 4's 100,000+ word script in one week. i don't even have a funny comment for this one

jynx doesn't think len'en would fit the format of a visual novel despite the fact len'en 4 has a 100,000+ word script

jynx refuses to collab with anyone for any reason. motives unclear

jynx did three 12 hour back-to-back livestreams crunching to finish book of the cafe. literally no part of this is a good idea

jynx is like the quintessential representation of everything you shouldn't do as a game dev. they should have burnt out years ago and been remembered as nothing but a random quirky touhou ripoff that was an interesting yet janky interpretation but ultimately went nowhere and YET here we are coming in to len'ens decade anniversary

how the fuck is jynx a real person. why am i so obsessed with everything they've ever made

[skyefeys]

A Comprehensive Guide to Writing Gina Dialogue!!!

Do YOU like writing tgaa fics, but find yourself struggling to understand the speech habits of Gina Lestrade? Well, fortunately for you, I love linguistics and accents almost as much as I love Gina - so I've compiled a breakdown of every quirk in her speech!

(Full analysis under the break!)

Most of Gina's speech patterns can be broken down by three fundamental facts:

She speaks with a thick Cockney accent

She's uneducated, which leads to various grammar troubles

She uses a lot of informal cockney terms/slang

Let's get into it section-by-section!

(Note: Formatting looks a lot better on mobile!)

Section 1: Cockney Accent

So I’m an theater kid, and I've done dialect training for Cockney accents before - it's one of my best ones imo - so that certainly helped me write this section! Even without that, though, it's pretty easy to identify how her accent appears in her speech. Let's break it down!

Drop h's

Example: Here becomes 'ere

Drop g’s at the end of words

Example: Going becomes goin'

A few other word ends that get dropped:

Of becomes o'

And becomes an'

Th changes depending on the word - Thank you to annoyingloudmicrowavecultist for properly explaining how this works in the tags!

Voiced th becomes v

Example: With becomes wiv

Unvoiced th becomes f

Example: Nothing becomes nuffin'

For writing purposes, if a word would become unrecognizable with this change, it's left the same (but in actual speech, it would be pronounced differently)

Example: Father remains as father (but would be pronounced like fovva)

Th always remains intact at the start of words

Example: Thing remains as thing (but would be pronounced like fing)

Miscellaneous word changes

Something becomes summat (but other times is just somefin' - she's not consistent with either)

What becomes wot, whatever becomes wotever

Tomorrow becomes tomorra

Because is often shortened to 'cause, which becomes cos

Isn't almost always becomes ain't

Thank you / no thank you becomes ta / no ta

Some words spill together or are slurred

With that becomes wivvat, with it becomes wivvit (This one isn't actually used in-game, so you don't have to use it either, but it reflects how she'd actually be pronouncing it)

Isn't it becomes innit

Doesn't it becomes dunnit

Suppose becomes s'pose

Don't know becomes dunno

Probably becomes prob'ly

You might change - Another loose/inconsistent rule. Can depend on how the sentence would be pronounced out loud, but mostly is just a vibe

You becomes ya

Your/you're becomes yer

Yourself becomes yerself

Section 2: Grammatical Errors

Gina is an uneducated East End orphan, so it should come as no surprise that she makes mistakes here and there. Here are her consistent ones! Some of these are confusing/hard to explain, so I included specific examples.

Will say me instead of my, and meself instead of myself

Example: "I dunno much about guns meself."

Incorrect tense usage of was/were in negatives - Instead of I/it wasn’t, she’ll say I/it weren’t

Example: "I was up in a balloon, weren't I?"

Incorrect tense usage of does/do in negatives - Instead of he doesn’t, she’ll say he don’t

Example: "Somefin' wot 'e don't want people readin'."

Double negatives

Ever becomes never in negative statements

Example: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."

Never + anything becomes never + nothing

Example: "I never done nuffin' o' the sort!"

Never + anyone becomes never + no one

Example: "All me life, growin' up in the slums, I've never trusted no one."

Haven't you ever becomes ain't you never

Example: "Ain't you lot never gone over an 'ouse lookin' for dough when the owners are out o' town?"

The word that or who in the context of ascribing a feature to a subject is replaced by the word what

Example: "She's always goin' on about all them cases wot Sholmes is lookin' into."

Other example: "I think I wouldn't fancy me chances wiv a lawyer wot lives in a place like this."

Will say them instead of those

"All them skylights open, dead easy."

Will say no more instead of anymore

"Ya dropped it, so it ain't yours no more."

She’ll sometimes mess up bigger, unfamiliar words. This one's entirely in your discretion what words she might mess up. Some canon examples:

“Supperment” instead of supplement

“Mantlescript” instead of manuscript

On a similar note, she'll sometimes confidently get sayings wrong and think she sounds smart

“Toby's...'ow did they put it...? ...Oh, yeah! A 'bone-fide' detective!”

Section 3: Cockney Terms/Slang

In addition to her thick dialect, growing up in the East End means Gina has also adopted a plethora of unique words and phrases. This'll be more like a vocab section!

Cockney rhyming slang - Some words are replaced with phrases that rhyme with them. She uses a few in canon:

Instead of believe, she’ll say Adam an’ Eve

“Would you Adam an' Eve it, eh?! Wot a mug!”

Instead of face, she’ll say chevy chase

“Yeah, I can see it written all over yer chevy chase!”

Interjections/Exclamations

Blimey - Express surprise or shock

"Blimey, yer right! That streak o' light in the photo looks just like an arrow, dunnit?"

Cor - A general interjection, kind of a euphemism for god

"Cor, listen to you! Ya stumble across a bit o' balloon an' suddenly yer the best investigator in the world!"

Oi - I doubt I need to define this one, but it's basically the equivalent of "hey"

"Oi! That's off limits up there!"

Words for people

Cove, bloke - A boy or man. Gina tends to use cove more often than bloke.

"That's where the cove ended up after 'is 'instant kinesis' or wotever they call it."

"When I lifted the last bloke's purse, 'e got wise to me."

Dandy - A conceited, fashionable upperclass man. Can be used as a noun or adjective.

In reference to Ashley Graydon: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."

Dee - Thank you to uzukirie for figuring this out in the replies of this post - dee is short for detective!

To Sholmes: "I don't need no 'elp from some stuck-up dee!"

About Gregson: "Yeah, the dee let me keep it. After I looked daggers at 'im for long enough."

Swell - A wealthy or elegant person. In canon, Gina uses this exclusively in reference to McGilded.

"It's because o' that, this swell found me. …'E did 'elp me get away, mind."

Miscellaneous vocab

Dodgy - Suspicious

"It was amazin' when you showed that dodgy professor's dodgy experiment was a total fix!"

Rum - Odd or strange

"I mean, wot's the point of spendin' a joey to make a few bob, eh? That's a rum idea, innit?"

Coppers - Cops

"If you do wot the grown-ups tell ya, it'll get yer mates dragged off by the coppers. Or worse."

Scarper - Flee/run away/leave in a hurry. Also comes from rhyming slang - Scarper = Scapa Flow = Go

"If I did that, 'e said 'e'd let me scarper before the coppers showed up."

Have a butcher's - Take a look. Also comes from rhyming slang - "butcher's hook" = look

"Most days I push the cushion up wiv me 'ead an' look out the crack. Then I can 'ave a butcher's at who I'm gonna fiddle."

Rude words/phrases :)

Gordon Bennett - Expresses surprise or contempt - kind of a euphemism for goddammit.

"Gordon Bennett! You lot!"

Flamin', bleedin', - General emphasis. Pretty much just gentler ways of saying fucking.

Note!! You might be tempted to make Gina say "bloody", since that's well-known British slang, but she never says that. She says bleedin' in its place.

"Don't be so flamin' rude, 'Oddo!"

"It's lies every bleedin' place ya look in this world, innit?"

Bleedin’ Nora - A variation of "Bloody Norah", a surprised/irritated interjection.

"Wot the bleedin' Nora, 'Oddo?! Wot 'ave you gone an' done?!"

Bogtrotter - A derogatory term for an Irish person. She uses this to refer to McGilded.

"Look at the mess it's got you into, believin' in that bogtrotter!"

Mug - An idiot.

"You can't do it from inside, you mug."

Blue blazes - An alliterative exaggeration of "blazes". A euphemism for hell.

"Where the blue blazes 'ave you been, eh?"

Cobblers - Rubbish/nonsense. Literally, it means testicles - derived from Cockney rhyming slang, where "cobbler's awls" = balls.

"All this nonsense about the boss plannin' to kill people… It's cobblers!"

And 1.2k words later, that's pretty much it! Now you can write Gina dialogue spot on <3

Feel free to suggest anything I'm missing/got wrong - I come back and edit this for accuracy's sake every time I notice something I left out, or when people in the replies/tags point things out!

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

I'd like to wish being transformed into a really dumb jock, and gross, but like, literal, so dumb i can't even say what 2 + 2 is, and i so gross i constantly belch and fart non-stop cause i think its manly and its funny, could you do it, pleasee?

You want to be dumbest thing walking on two legs. Thats all I read when I seen this. So that’s what we are going to do. People will look at you really question how something so dumb could even exist. As soon as your wish leaves you mouth instantly you tongue acts on it own hanging out of your mouth like a dog. You try to pull it back in but you can’t ! No matter what you do your tongue just seems to be too big you mouth and your jaw squares itself and drops. You look in the mirror shocked. You didn’t think didn’t think it would happen this fast but you can’t deny it. You look dumb. You start to burn up as your body begins to generate more heat than you’re used to and sweat begins to pour on your body. As that happens a puddle begins to form under you from all the sweat dripping off your body and your body begins to bulk with muscle. Your arms balloon out as your chest pumps up. Your abs pull your waist in and become tight forming an incredible 8 pack. Your face begins to itch as a beard starts to grow on your dumb face as your hair darkens. Your arms become hairy and your legs begin to bulk. Becoming swallowed in a furry mass as well. You back widens and you are overcomed with being lightheaded you have to sit down. Sitting in front of the mirror in your own puddle of sweat you can’t help but notice right arm and pec begin to get dark as a tattoos begins to streatch their way up your arms and across your chest. You look down and see a tattoo form on your right leg as your feet begin to swell. You notice that as your feet get bigger your tongue begins to push out more. Lower. DUMBER! Your pants begin to get tight as your package seems to be connect to your feet to. The bigger they become the larger your member becomes. Your feet stop ground at a sweaty size 17. Your body is massive now. Dripping sweat. Your veins are bulging from all the mass you’ve gained and your skin even has a tanned color to it.

But even though you look dumb. You said you wanted to be DUMB! Like the definition of full blown dumbass. And intense migraine moved across your head as you brain cramps. Losing the ridges that hold knowledge. Smoothing out as you become a literal dumbass. But I’m not cruel. I’ll leave you able to function. Unable to read. Unable to do anything other than lift weight and be a dumbass. You belch signifying lift off of your new dumbass life. Not even aware how stupid you are. I’m not even sure if you remember how to walk with how dumb I’ve made you but a muscle body like needs to crawl anyway. You’ll repeat simple sentences but anything complex you’ll have a glazed look pass over your dumb face. Instantly lost in all the confusion. Even yelling like a wild animal because of the dumbass you’ve become. You manage to stand up and stagger as your stupid brain tries to understand what you’re doing. A loud fart shoots out of your tight bulbous butt while another burp comes out. Still sweating and pumping out some serious Bo. You’re going to be a sweaty gas machine. To dumb to do anything and impossible to learn anything. Enjoy the new life you big dumbass.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

GIF: Originally posted by @sassycherryblossomtree

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dubious/non consent. Physical intimacy.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: What a full on week! I've had a job interview. Got turned down for said job. Went to a Sandman filming location (Natural History Museum) and watched Dune Part 2 (cannot recommend enough). It took away from my writing time a bit but part 3 is here now, and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think. Part 4 will be coming soon. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

"Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."

The sentence is a catalyst, fuelling the physical and emotional reactions in both the surroundings and your body.

The wind is gone, leaving a claustrophobic air that crackles with untameable energy. The streetlight above violently flickers and flares, the unmistakable noise of a circuit about to overload emanating with each surge.

You feel these surges within your chest too, stoking the warmth radiating through you to an uncontrollable blaze. The ferocity of the sensation makes you whimper.

The man's hands are still touching you. Cradling your face and holding your hand; he feels the tremble that couples with your vocalisation.

"I understand. I feel it too," he whispers. "Though I imagine it is much more intense for your mortal heart to bear."

He eyes are raven black as he strokes his thumb back and forth over your cheek, before strengthening the hold he has on your face.

"Let me kiss the pain away."

He gives you no time to respond. He leans in the last few centimetres and puts his lips firmly against yours.

At first, contrary to his intent, the pain amplifies. He grunts, indicating that he has felt this spike also yet begins to move his lips regardless. It's like your heart is a balloon and it is being overfilled with air, close to exploding and obliterating you from existence. You then feel as if you are about to black out and want to pull away, and are about to try when the agony starts to subside.

The seduction begins.

The fire is mellowing with each press of his mouth, transforming into a restorative, yet sensuous energy. It's alleviation akin to calamine on a sunburn.

It awakens a primal need in your soul. This man is fundamental to you. He is the only one who can truly protect you from harm. You must remain with him. Give yourself to him.

You act on this revelation and kiss him back with a hunger that you didn't think you were capable of demonstrating.

Your reciprocation sends him into a frenzy. He cages you against the damp wall of the building and kisses you with unyielding, dangerous passion.

His skill is impressive, changing technique frequently to keep you guessing. Smothering kisses, bruising kisses, slower kisses to give you time to breathe. The hand that was cupping your face is now stroking down your side; breasts, waist, hips and back up again.

Tentatively, you raise your free hand to the back of his head and run your fingers through his wild hair. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, a satisfied vibrating sigh of sorts that encourages you to dig deeper into the silken locks.

He escalates things by slipping his tongue into your mouth. You feel his lips curl into a smirk as you moan in response. His taste is a potent blend: a smoky base, herbaceous core and ambrosial top notes. You are drunk on it, and him seconds after exposure.

Logic has left you. Schedules and duties cast aside.

The juxtaposition between the present and minutes prior would be frightening if not for how correct all this feels. You had been disgusted and alarmed by his conduct, ready to bring in reinforcements and then all of it had dissipated like dust under a short, sharp breath.

It is not a ridiculous change in behaviour; you were supposed to be doing this. This stranger is all you want.

He pulls back when even his slower kisses are unable to calm your elevated respiratory rate, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he does so to draw another moan from you.

The blue of his eyes shimmer with a myriad of emotions. Lust stands out the most along with awe and relief. Your cheeks prickle with a light blush as he continues to stare and document every detail.

"I have been waiting to do that for thousands of years, my precious soulmate," he eventually says in reference to the kiss after absorbing your image for a while.

There's that word again. Soulmate. You hadn't exactly been allowed a period of contemplation when the man first uttered it, too swept up in the fire and his touch, but now with the semi-reinstation of coherent thoughts you begin to assess. It proves difficult. Your cerebral matter feels like a mixture of treacle, sap and epoxy. Trapping words and slowing down your processing power. It would be so simple to let yourself live in this mental mire and be carried along by his whims.

No. You scold inwardly. Ask a question.

"What do you mean by soulmates?" You force yourself to speak.

He guides your palm to rest on his heart and sets up a mirror image with his hand on your chest. "It means that we are bound together, made for one another."

The next question is easier to form. "And what now, given that you've found me?"

"Now," His hips grind into yours. "I will continue with the ritual of awakening you to the metaphysical connection between us, stripping back the shrouds and glamours that have been protecting your mind from the gravity of this gift."

That explained why everything shifted when he first touched your skin.

"Are you going to do that here?" Your brain is really starting to break free of its trappings and you need to ascertain his plan for it sounds like his intentions are of a sexual nature and you are in a public place.

"No, your time in this world has reached its end. I will take you to my realm, lead you to my chambers and I will not stop stimulating you until I have taken residence in your every thought, every cell."

The speed and confidence with which he is pouring forth all of these sentiments, and the near-full recovery of your mental faculties triggers a wave of nausea. Perspiration forms on your nape and ears and your core temperature feels off; warning signs that you get when you are about to vomit.

He still hasn't let go of your hand. You hone in on the softness of his skin, hoping you can use him as an anchor as you wade through the icky symptoms.

Recent events are starting to catch up with you. You replay it all.

Soulmates. Mortal. Thousands of years. Metaphysical. Realm. The unexplainable environmental manifestations. The strange shifting qualities of his eyes. What kind of supernatural devilry had you managed to become ensnared in?

Was he in fact the devil?

You are so conflicted. This being, for you are convinced that 'man' is no longer the correct term, is telling you things that threaten your entire way of life and your heart is pushing you to seek comfort from him!

Then the voices start.

Your sense of balance tilts and you instinctively grasp his forearm for stability. He says your name and you drag your focus from your thoughts to his face. He is looking at you with deep concern.

"Tell me," he commands gently.

"I feel dizzy... And I can hear voices."

"How many?"

"What?"

"How many voices?"

Your eyes are wide as you struggle to understand the relevance of his question.

You stammer out a couple of syllables.

"Breathe," he encourages.

You obey and concentrate on the hubbub.

"Three. Everything is being repeated three times."

The frown lines smooth and he is smiling faintly. "It seems The Fates are vying for your attention."

"The Fates? Like in Greek mythology?"

"The very same."

Was this being a God then?

"They're telling me to close my eyes," you relay as soon as the instruction is delivered.

He nods. "That will be the trigger that transports your mind to their location."

"Will I pass out?"

"No. It will be a temporary connection that keeps your body frozen for mere moments."

"I feel so dizzy though."

"I can hold you while you converse with them should you wish."

You nod somewhat frenetically as a sliver of fear creeps into your mind. "Yes, please."

He lets go of your hand for the first time since you tried to go back in the building, slips his arms around your waist and he pulls you close with a satisfied sigh. The neediness with which you are clinging to him lessens your apprehension just a little.

"How does that feel?" His voice rumbles deliciously through your chest.

"Good, thank you."

"You should close your eyes now. It is best that you do not keep them waiting."

"Okay."

"I'll see you in a few moments."

You shut your eyes.

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

The scene you awaken in is all lemon yellows, blush pinks and pastel blues. There's no landforms or structures. Just a never-ending stretch of bedrock, topped with a horizon that is beginning to show a sumptuous sunset.

You squint a little and then notice that there is a actually a point of interest. A lump of rough rock, waist height. There's a divot worn into the top that makes the obtrusion look like a font. For a moment you see a single figure standing at it.

A figure that appears to have three faces.

But then you blink and the number has tripled.

Maiden, Mother and Crone.

The trio block the worst of the sun glare, and the light that isn't obscured is highlighting the translucent layers that overflow from their intricately constructed and adorned outfits. Their curly hair, like the fabric of their clothes, flows freely in the gentle breeze.

You walk towards the group, thinking back to that term in school where you studied Greek mythology. Under no circumstances did you ever think that any of it could possibly be true, yet here you were.

You stop a respectable distance from them and quickly avert your eyes downwards to look at the ruby ring on your right hand.

One of them speaks, "You need not be intimidated by us, sweetness."

"I only wish to pay respect to you, your Graces."

You chance a peek at the Fates and see amusement in their eyes.

"Oh, you are going to fit in very well in his world," the Mother says with a smile.

You don't know what to feel about that comment however you don't have time to dwell on it for the eldest addresses you.

"Come closer. Let us look at you."

And look they did. Their resolute gazes are just as discerning as the stranger's but unlike his, where you knew he was soaking you in, you feel like the Fates are seeing through you.

You don't know what exactly it is that they are looking for but their smiles give the impression of being appeased.

"Has Morpheus told you how this will go?"

"No..." You hesitate before speaking his name, "Morpheus has not."

"He didn't tell you his name, did he?"

"We didn't get a lot of time for small talk," you admit sheepishly.

"We can see that from the state of your lips."

"He always was rather forward with his physical affection."

"Touch starved," the Crone finishes.

You are beyond embarrassed. How swollen were your lips for it to be that obvious? You can almost feel his touch now, it tingles like phantom caresses on the skin of your neck, chest and waist. You swallow hard before further lust can thicken your throat.

The Fates then speak in turn again, explaining the context of your rendezvous.

"You will have the opportunity to ask three questions."

"That is the custom when meeting with us."

"There is no need to rush."

Choosing only three questions will be tough when there are hundreds you could ask. Were you losing your sanity? Was Morpheus a demonic envoy from the underworld sent to corrupt your mind?

You suppose all you really want to know is whether this is real.

"Is he telling the truth about us being soulmates?"

The Maiden answers in a musical voice, "He is. The confluence of yours and Morpheus' lives has been written for millennia. Your souls have been intended for each other since he came into existence. You were never meant for anyone else but him."

You feel like you are about to cry. That last statement cuts deeply.

"All those times that potential partners lost interest or ghosted me. It was because of this soulmates thing," you murmur the statement, aware that you don't need to ask them to know if it is true.

Years of heartache and confusion had been for nothing. The nights spent wondering if you had done something wrong, the days where you threw yourself into your work to distract from it.

You cannot regret all the good things you managed to create as part of your team at the charity yet it is hard to look past the personal torment that countless unexplained rejections caused. You are human after all.

Selfishness rears its head and pushes the next question from your mouth with a tone of indignation.

"Why am I only finding out about this now?"

The Mother takes over, tone caring and brown eyes cordial, "It was not necessary for you to know."

Ire disintegrates into frustration. "But I could have been preparing. Not building a life that I was clearly going to have to give up."

"You would not be the person you are had we given you warning. You needed to live as a human, not as someone who was fated to be with the King of Dreams and Nightmares. Besides, there was no possibility of you being together. For 106 years, Morpheus was the prisoner of a human, and it was the recent end of his captivity that allowed fate to take its intended course. Reaching your potential on Earth gives you a strong foundation from which to guide and influence him in how to best serve humanity, and learn to trust in them once more after what he suffered at the hands of one."

The amount of information you have just received is like a freight train. One after the other, the revelations barrel into you and you take refuge in your mind.

The King of Dreams and Nightmares; not a title you had heard of before. Yet there is a strange sense of recognition. A forgotten memory that barely flickers with life. You ignore the niggling thought and focus on the more devastating one.

This King, your soulmate was held against his will, subjected to suffering. You cannot bear the idea of it regardless of how few details you have at present. Your chest aches and you know your soul is the source.

Fury twitches in your fingers, as fiery as the now burnt oranges and bloody reds of the ever-progressing sunset. You want to know who could do such a terrible thing but you realise that it is not the most important question you could be asking.

You look back to the Fates. You note their proud smiles at your restraint.

"What role am I expected to play in his future?"

The Crone moves to centre stage, "You are to be his everything. Muse. Lover. Queen. Advisor. Confidant."

Your stomach twists.

"Are you ready to return to him?" The Maiden asks, taking you off guard.

You feel like you a patron being kicked out at closing time with half a drink left. A fizzy one that you can't knock back easily.

What you've just been told honestly scares you. It's a mountain of expectation, the sort of thing that could birth an inferiority complex. There's also your self-preservation instinct starting to scream. You've seen darkness in his eyes, felt his physical strength and heard how resolute his statements are.

You have to say something.

"I'm worried about what would happen if I disappoint him, if he would hurt me."

The trio step closer, the scant remnants of sunlight reflect off their perceptive eyes and the metal of their matching earrings.

The Crone speaks solemnly, "It has been well-documented that Morpheus has a ruthless nature. As one of the Endless siblings, he is among the most powerful beings in the universe; equal parts creator, and destroyer."

The Mother touches your cheek with a warm hand. "But you have just as much power to hurt him, sweetness. We have provided you with it."

The Maiden nods in agreement, and takes your hand.

"He deals in fears, yes but his domain also lies in fantasies. He will be able to furnish you with yours. He has been made to be perfect for you."

"But -"

"This is not a loss of agency or an act of surrender. Put aside your qualms, listen to your soul and ask yourself this: do you find him attractive?"

"Yes." He's the most attractive person you've ever seen.

"Do you care for him?"

"Yes." Your reaction to his imprisonment is evidence enough of that.

"Do you want to a chance of happiness?"

"Yes." Deep down beneath all the doubt and overthinking and catastrophising, it's exactly what you want.

You want Morpheus.

"I'm ready," you say calmly.

You take a step back from the Fates and bow.

"Thank you for your time, your Graces."

The sky is an inky violet with daubs of dark blue, the sun is a thin line on the horizon. It sets, signalling the end of the meeting and your time as an ordinary mortal.

"Fare you well," the Fates' voices echo in unison as everything fades to black.

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

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

"Deep in my heart, deep in my mind. Take me away, take me away. This is my word, dream maker, life taker. Open up my mind."

[after-hours-art]

On the day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

Pairing: Chuck Bass x f!reader

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warnings: x

24th of December is nothing. At least not to Chuck Bass. All he can remember from those so-called Christmas Eve are either baquettes that his father was invited to or some quiet days in apartment suites, when he was still too much of a child to attend Christmas parties for New York business elites. Therefore, 24 of December is just that - a 24th day of December, 358th day of the year (359th if it's a leap year). That's, at least, until he met you.

//24th of December//

//3pm//

You sit on the couch at your family home, looking at your family rushing around the huge tree that's by the staircase. Chuck seats next to you. It took you whole November to persuade him to join you and your family for Christmas. He insisted that he has his own traditions, but you knew it's only a facade he puts up so as not to admit he spends Christmas usually just drinking alone. So he ended up here, in the last place he'd guess he would.

He looks at you, surprised to find out that you're not smiling. You're nothing like your mom who sings some children song about the Christmas tree, your sister joining in. You look tired. Exhausted even, and yet all you did whole day was little help with vegetable salad. Are you sad because there's no snow this year?

- Hey, you okay? - he asks quietly. You've never seen a shy Chuck Bass, yet the second he stepped in your family home, something switched in him. All the confidence evaporated like air from popped balloon. As if he's trying to do anything to not be noticed.

You look at him, sipping on hot coffee.

- Yeah. I'm just pretending I'm not here, so I won't be part of... all that. - you murmur, looking at your family. You love your family, it is obvious that you do. But family gatherings are hell for you. You don't like Christmas, yet you come every year because... that's what you're supposed to do.

- You know you don't have to do that, you know? You can just...do your own thing.

- Not everyone have Christmas in hotel rooms with stuff they can just send away. - you answer, swallowing with guilt when you realise how cold your words must have sound for Chuck. You look at him realising that Chuck probably never had real Christmas with a tree that he and his family decorated, with making vegetable salad on their own. You feel sad for him for a moment, knowing that Bart Bass probably isn't big on Christmas. And his mother is known to he dead in childbirth.

- I... - you start and take his hand. - I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just... the everywhere is better where we are not. While I wish for lonely Christmas, you... - you pause and look at your family, your mother and sister discussing Christmas ornaments placements, your dad running to the kitchen every 2 minutes despite being sick and having private chef for today he wants to make sure everything is right way. You sigh and look at him, his features softer than usually, yet there's a significant tension in him.

- ...you might have dreamed of what I have. - you finish the sentence quietly. Chuck takes deeper breath, putting hand on your knee. In Bass household, or rather hotel suite, Christmas wasn't a big deal. Lack of woman's touch may have also affected how Bass men have spent the last 20 Christmases of Chuck's life. And here's you, dragging him to Christmas party you yourself don't even want to attend. As if that's supposed to change his mind about all family things as well as celebrations. You two sit in silence for a moment, reflecting on your own pasts. After a while, you give him a gentle nudge.

- Go. Hang out with them. - you say, pointing at your family with sublte movement of your head.

- I don't want to. - he says quietly. You sigh and squeeze his hand.

- You're staring at them and that tree like an idiot. Go. Help them. I bet you never decorated a tree before. - you say, knowing that you're right. Chuck shoots at you colder glare - it's not time nor place for potential fights.

- And I'm not staring. - he scoffs. Another few minutes pass, and the air between you grows heavier with the tension. You catch Chuck clenching his jaw.

- Chuck... - you start quietly. He doesn't answer nor does anything to show that he's listening. You just observe your family, having a playful argument over the placement of the ornaments. He won't say it, but he is trying to imagine himself, ten years old, fifteen years old, and finally now at twenty-one years old, decorating a conifer. He wants to scoff at that. He wants to mock the stupid tradition. Yet, he can't. He can't because deep down, something in him strives to do just that - decorate the stupid conifer with mismatched Christmas balls, light chains and in the end put carefully, personally wrapped gifts under said tree. And there's you, who had all that for your whole life, yet you don't seem to enjoy it one bit. As if you are taking this family being close so much for granted, you're raised in so much love that you can't see or sympathize with him over that.

- I'll go if you go. - he says finally. You stare at him confused, not sure what he's referring to.

- The tree. I'll go help decorate it if you do too. - he says quietly, his leg shaking a litte, a sign of anxiety and nervousness. You feel your heart throb a little for him. You never saw him this nervous before. Maybe when he had to close a business deal or when something particu disturbing comes up in your lives. But here he is, the confident Chuck Bass, shaking like a leaf before hanging a couple of Christmas balls on the branches of the tree. You sigh. You hate it. You hate decorating, singing Christmas carols, all that Christmas crap. However, seeing a spark in his eyes, you can't say no. It's like seeing a twenty years old man turn into a boy. Finally, you nod.

- Fine. Let's go.

He grabs your hand, pulling you off the couch. Once you join your family, your mother smiles explaining to Chuck in which canton box are which ornaments, your sister rambles about the 'colour theme' and 'aesthetics' and whatever her future architect mind came up with. Your dad runs off to the kitchen again when he hears the timer go off, a sign that soup is ready. Everything looks like a scene from one of those cheesy Hallmark movies that Chuck watched once or twice when he was a kid. Then he loved the concept, yet never got to experience it. Now he does. And it feels to him better than anything else.

//5pm//

Once the tree it ready, it took you a good few hours since the tree is huge, and you sit down for supper. Chuck can't help but smile. Maybe not 12, but at least 8 dishes, candles, lightening, little hay on the table, oranges with cloves make the room smell amazing. None of his previous Christmases smelled like cloves. But this does. He swallows nervously when your grandmother hands everyone communion wafers. He never said any more meaningful wishes than 'Merry Christmas'. Maybe to you or his friends on their birthdays or in his best man's speech on his father's wedding with Lily van der Woodsen, but aside from that, never. Seeing you bite his lower lip, he leans closer and whispers to your ear.

- Wanna share wishes first? - he asks quietly. You nod. Wishes are hardest for you, too - simply because you're more of an introvert and sharing anything close to feelings constantly makes you uncomfortable despite years passing by.

- So... Chuck... - you start with unusual stutter in your voice. - I... I wish you all the best. Success with Empire. Friends. Family. Happiness. Health... - you murmur, shooting classic wishes. Finally, you lean to him and kiss him gently.

- I love you. - you say. - You're... Best things that happened to me.

Chuck's cheeks flush with pink, feeling somehow flustered by your words, simple and nervous, yet you meant them. He swallows and starts.

- Y/N... I love you. And...and I never really wished anyone anything on Christmas. It's some European tradition, right? - he chuckles. - So... I wish you all the best, for you to be happy, thrive at university, make friends, put up with me being an asshole... - he chuckles again. - And thank you for inviting me here. - he says, placing a kiss on your forehead.

After everyone break the communion wafers with every member of family and with Chuck it's time for fiest. Borscht, fish, ham, herrings in cream, vegetable salad... all the goodness of Christmas food land on the table. Your family talks loudly. First, about food, then somehow it shifts to politics. Chuck stays mostly silent, still little blushed after your sister wished you and him to get married, just taking in the atmosphere and warm feeling of belonging. Because he feels like he belongs in this gathering.

//10pm//

Supper passes in a warm and happy atmosphere, ends up in drunk adults, and your sister laughs hysterically on the couch after your mom and grandmother make a joke. You sit next to Chuck on the couch, many presents at your feet, a few at his. You tilt your head and rest on his shoulder. His hand lands on yours, gently squeezing it.

- Hey... you tired? - he asks quietly.

- Yeah. A little. - you murmur, visibly mentally drained from the celebrations and interactions. He gently brushes your knuckles with his thumb.

- Y/N... Thank you. - he says quietly.

- Huh? - you look at him. - For what?

- For inviting me to your family's Christmas. For giving me.... Christmas for Christmas. - he chuckles and smiles, turning his head to kiss your forehead. You chuckle and smile.

- You're welcome - you murmur in sleepy voice. The talk at the table shifts to the selling apartment of your late great-grandmother, investing in something new and renting it. You sigh in contentment. Christmas passed, you had relatively fun, and you saw that Chuck enjoyed it too. And that was all you wanted.

Chuck smiles softly.

- Wanna go to bed?

- Yeah.

He let go of your hand, stands up, and gently picks you up in bridal style. He says a quick 'good night' to your family members. They don't really listen as they're too invested in the conversation. He carries you to your bedroom, placing you on the bed.

- Help? - you ask quietly, wanting little help with unzipping your dress. Chuck smiles and helps you get out of the red satin, smiling at white slip underneath. You both change in the same room, replacing your fancy party outfits with cosy pyjamas. You move your plushies aside to make a little more space for Chuck in your bed. He smiles and slides under the duvets next to you, letting you cuddle to him and rest your head on his chest. He kisses top of your head, your hair ticking his lips for a moment. You close your eyes and pass out without saying goodnight, making him chuckle. He holds you a little tighter, pulling blankets over you to make sure that you're warm. He smiles to himself, holding you close, almost not believing that he got it all - the hotel, true love in the form of you, and family Christmas Eve he had always dreamed of. When he closes his eyes, he's happy, soundly falling asleep to the white nose of your soft breaths.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 24

The Second Doctor took Jamie and Victoria to Traken once. The Keeper at the time was so fond of Victoria he gave her a piece of his mind that would one day become Viola.

The whole idea behind clowns came from the ravenous predators of the Time Lords.

When the Doctor's biodata had been altered by the Faction Paradox, the Eighth Doctor's eyes pulsed between blue and green.

The Herald is a monstrous version of the Thirteenth Doctor from an alternate future where she was absorbed by the chaos while trapped in the Catastrophia, a universe of madness. The Herald exists alongside the original Thirteenth and the Sanity, another counterpart.

Katarina was originally judged to be neither good nor evil and was sentenced to wander for eternity in the fields. The First Doctor refused to accept this from the judges and instead went to the highest authority he could, Hades. (He wanted to talk to their manager.) After being convinced by Persephone, Hades relented and allowed Katarina into the Elysian Fields.

Even before this, it was difficult to even get Katarina across the River Styx anyway. Charon considered her unclean because she had taken her own life. To get her across, the First Doctor originally offered his signet ring as payment, but they instead scattered Charon's coins and stole his boat.

Susan made an archive of all of her adventures on the TARDIS. The Thirteenth Doctor would later find and watch all of them.

The Fifth Doctor, Nyssa, Tegan, and Adric once went to a planet full of statues. These statues were highly intelligent. Adric started turning into a statue after the statues started saying that he belonged with them, but the Doctor saved him (because no, that boy is not allowed to turn himself into a statue), to his shock and horror. Adric was very angry about this for a long time since the Doctor didn't let him choose his destiny.

Liv Chenka has referred to the Eighth Doctor as a "kitten with a ball of string" before.

For Yaz's birthday, the Thirteenth Doctor picked up a Sontaran Frosted Boom Cake from a Sontaran bakery, some Zeppelins from Blitz-era London to function as balloons, and a candelabra from Paris to function as birthday candles. The cake ended up exploding into a mess of pink chocolate, but Yaz was delighted regardless.

Padrac was an old classmate of the Doctor's and a member of the same zero-grav hyperball team. The Eighth Doctor referred to him as "Paddy" several times. Like many old classmates and friends of the Doctor's, however, Padrac was evil and tried to not only kill the Doctor but destroy the vast majority of everything in existence.

Cardinal Zero regenerated into an avian.

The Fifth Doctor and Nyssa landed on Mondas as the Cybermen were being created. Due to his alien biology, the Doctor was used as a template to produce fully functioning Mondasian Cybermen.

The Thirteenth Doctor once served as an undercover assassin to the King. Eventually, she was contracted to kill...the Doctor.

When the Twelfth Doctor caught the common cold, he thought he would have to regenerate.

A little girl named Lizzie once snuck on board the TARDIS while the Thirteenth Doctor was away and dropped a peanut butter sandwich down the console. This broke the navigational systems.

While trying to guess the Ninth Doctor's name, the Grimminy-Grew called him Brother Lungbarrow, Theta Sigma, and the Oncoming Storm.

One time while posing as a museum curator, the Thirteenth Doctor met Missy. Missy wanted to know the location of several items that had been stolen from her but never actually realized she was talking to the Doctor.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[sterekchub]

Stiles gets cursed into the werehog, growing bigger and fatter as he gorges. Swelling stronger and hairy with tusks poking out of his mouth. Derek actually loving the massive horny Hog stiles becoming as the man encourages the truck crushing boar to gorge from a trough, swelling bigger and bigger, mass so much that even Derek struggles with his werewolf strength, all whilst the growing giant of a boar Stiles belches, shaking the entire town, as he wants his fifth breakfast before his first lunch is ready.

You had me with Stiles being so heavy even Derek struggles to lift him. 😄

It takes embarrassingly long for people to notice the curse. Stiles….eats like a college kid with an unlimited meal plan, so him scarfing down food isn’t new. And even before he was cursed, the freshman 15 hit him hard before the first semester was even over. Scott only starts to get a hint something is wrong when he watches Stiles load up his tray one day and everything is piled on top of each other

No seperate plates, no nicely portioned mashed potatoes next to the burger next to the Mac and cheese…..it’s one heaping, disgusting pile. Pizza thrown on top, the apple crumble tossed on stop of mashed potatoes that are smothering the 2 burgers underneath…it’s gross even for college bro standards. And Stiles digs into it like it’s the best meal he’s had. Eats it down in record time, pats his belly with a belch, and waddles back for more.

Defintely the time that Scott calls Derek. And despite a lot of research, they can’t figure out what’s wrong or how to fix it. And really, Derek isn’t even trying that hard. Stiles is still Stiles, except now he’s eating so often, it’s hard to have a conversation with him without food flying from his mouth, words muffled by mouthfuls of food, or burps interrupting every other sentence.

Derek is the enabler. Stiles is hungry? He’ll drive them to get pancakes. An hour later when Stiles looks bloated and swollen still but grunts he wants tacos? Derek pays for delivery.

As time goes on, Stiles is eating so much, and struggling to reach over the blubbery mass of his stomach, it’s easier to dump his food into a trough. Doesn’t matter what it is or how badly the tastes clash. Stiles digs in with both hands.

And given he doesn’t really care what he’s eating- Derek mostly plies him with junk food and take out and snack foods and Stiles absolutely balloons. Waddling around wider than he is tall, looking positively pig like.

Annnd horny Stiles jerking off with one hand, burrito in the other. Seems to be constantly turned in, dick hard and getting buried in his fat pad and under his gut. Eventually his belly gets too big for him to reach around, and Derek finds himself panting and belching up a storm and frustrated he can’t reach.

But even when Derek is fucking him- Stiles is still cramming food into his mouth, overworked and aching stomach spreading out on the bed underneath him.

[ofmdee]

😵

been having some thinky thoughts today, and for a while, rly, abt my Feelings abt breathing underwater and i tried to type something up on twitter but that jsut was not letting me think my thoughts correctly

i love BU........... so goddamn much. it started out as nothing more than a silly idea abt little mermaid ed meeting stede and kind of ballooned into what ive built it up into today. it's so important to me... but it's making me a little miserable right now?

miserable because i dont want to work on it, but i WANT TO want to work on it, i want to tell this story and read the finished product, ive got so many ideas, but i just. cannot get myself to do the actual WORK of making sentences and then staging all the pics........... what used to be a fun little pastime now feels like a chore, an obligation, a compulsion almost. it sucks, but it sucks more NOT doing it, you know what i mean? idk.

i know ive built it up into this big THING to myself, like... idk, i do this so often, i have big ideas and love to plan and organize them and then i get going with such intensity until i abruptly fizzle out. i start things and dont finish them, and i guess i just rly dont want this to be another thing that gets thrown on my unfinished projects pile :/

i have the next 2 parts drafted, but every time i go back to poke at them and edit them i just get so disheartened because it's obvious that my heart wasn't really in writing them, and it's difficult to salvage a rough draft like that. part of me wants to just delete those parts entirely and say fuck it im taking an indefinite hiatus, and i will start fresh when this is fun again! which would probably be the best thing, actually, but... i am reluctant to do that, because i just dont have anything else to rly fill my time rn.

i havent been getting a lot of joy out of... anything, rly, for a long time now, im so bored and apathetic and even my normal go to things arent cutting it anymore. and idk if it's a depression thing or if im truly outgrowing some interests, but either way i know i need to get more Things in my life somehow, because writing and sims are my two biggest pastimes, and then i combined them, and then i got sick of both so ive got so little to go on! so i keep poking at the things that i used to love, hoping to find that spark again 😪 i love these little guys and their little world!!! and it makes me sad that im not actually having Fun with the PROCESS.

it doesn't help that i am constantly torn between man i wish more ppl read my fic!!! i work so hard on it!! and man i never want anyone to perceive me or my writing ever it's so amateur!! idk what i want and idk what i want to DO about it!!

so, idk!! idk where this is all going, lol, i just... wanted to try and organize these thoughts somehow.

trying to reason w myself that at the end of the day, i am writing a fanfiction. that's it. it's not that big of a deal, and yet it feels huge to me, somehow. I don't wanna let down the ppl who are reading it, and i dont wanna let myself down again, either.

BUT it's not supposed to make me feel miserable it is supposed to be fun i am lowkey crying rn because like urghghghgh why isnt it fun?!!?!

so. i think i gotta do some more thinking, because not making any kind of decision is making things worse! and idk, if all of this hasnt put u off of the idea of my fic, here is the series page lmfao i could use some encouragement i guess......

but i am going to seriously put more thought into an official hiatus, because i think i am getting Too preoccupied with it again and it's messing with me!!!

i actually had a decent time doing those kitty ed pics today, even tho they didn't do so hot, so maybe i am just gonna try to focus on that kind of thing, doing stuff that actually catches my attention, and also doing things without the intention of sharing them at all. allowing things to be messy. i get so caught up in the thought of someone else seeing my work that i paralyze myself trying to make it PERFECT.

i had a decent time doing that oneshot from ed's pov as well. so maybe i need to work on projects that are a bit smaller scale. i dont have to say goodbye to BU stuff forever, but i am just so ALL OR NOTHING that it feels like a way bigger decision than it actually is 😓

so i guess....... im gonna sleep on it for a while. think about it and try and come to a firm decision. because if i take a break, i need to REALLY take a break, which includes not thinking about it all the time and constantly beating myself up for not doing it 😅

idk, thank you if you read this far, here are a few kitty pics of ed for ur time:

[starrybouquet]

Tag Game: First 10 Lines Challenge

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

Tagged by @curator-on-ao3 - thank you so much!!

I have not been posting much recently so my last 10 fics span years (yes, years).

Caitlin Todd woke in an uncomfortable bed in a cold room.

Somewhere Beyond the Sea, NCIS, Kate/Gibbs, T

2. The United Airlines flight back from Fresno was long, boring, and cramped.

Mac stared out the window in a trance as the plane descended toward Dulles. The sun had long since set, and the entire city looked like a giant miniature train set, tiny cars moving down the roads as if controlled by some giant invisible hand.

this could be the end, JAG, Harm/Mac, T

3. Harm almost murdered Diane’s killer on a Friday.

He spent most of Saturday staring at the wall, trying to shove down the writhing mass of rope that seemed to have taken up residence in his stomach.

He felt guilty, he realized.

in case i need it when i'm older, JAG, Harm/Mac, G

4.

Say it was the right time To walk away When dreaming takes you nowhere It's time to play

—Playing with the Boys, Kenny Loggins

Maverick raps on the door sharply. When there’s no immediate reply, she shoves her hands in her pockets, where they curl into fists.

This is the most insane plan Penelope “Maverick” Mitchell has ever come up with, and that's saying something.

in for a penny, in for a pound, Top Gun, Ice/fem!Mav, T

5. Carter was perfectly professional all the way back to the tel'tak. She threw him a brief smile as they walked, and he felt his Carter senses light up, like the leaves of a plant on the first day of spring. But her face had stayed completely serious as they maneuvered Maybourne into the tel’tak and she helped him pack up the gear scattered across the campsite (it was laundry day, okay. They should be grateful he wasn’t going commando).

i won't let go 'til the end, Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack, G

6. It's the kind of summer night that clings to the skin, like the darkness has absorbed the heat of day and is breathing it out onto the world.

a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways, Top Gun, Gen (Maverick and Rooster's father/son relationship), G

7. Tess leans on the side of the register. Wednesdays are always slow, for some reason. Not many people at a supermarket looking to buy balloons for a party or flowers for a date on Wednesday, she supposes. Last week on Wednesday, she'd snuck The Great Gatsby out of her bag and skimmed it while she was waiting for customers. This week, though, she isn't feeling quite as productive. So she people-watches instead.

Rearview Mirror, Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack, T

8. “What do you want on your gravestone?”

Dearly Loved, Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack, G

9. Daniel walks into the SGC wearing a jacket labeled O'Neill, causing guards to stare. More guards stare when someone comments and he glances down, "Oh, I must have grabbed the wrong jacket."

Musical Jackets, Stargate SG-1, Gen, G

10. Jack was in the middle of reading a Sky and Telescope article on the latest electronic telescopes when he heard the telltale hum of Carter's engine.

Tensing, he set the magazine aside and waited for the knock he knew was coming. He tried not to think of the blue shine of his ring on her hand. He failed.

A Vein to the Heart, Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack, G

Apparently, I don't start with dialogue. Which amuses me because dialogue is easiest for me, and most of my stories start off as nothing but dialogue.

I write snappy, action-based beginnings, where a character is *doing* something. Which makes sense because that's what I like to read!

Clearly I need to stop starting the first sentence of a fic with a character's name, because seeing them all lined up like this makes me cringe.

No pressure tagging @sententiousandbellicose @sluttyhenley @redbelles @lannisterdaddyissues @doodledrawreblogs @tommyjop @geneeste and anyone else who sees this and wants to try their hand! <3

[tamararevolution21]

"what if akb48 had a sister group... with inanimate objects?" INS48

yay i finally created an au yayayyay it has been in my head ever since i started stanning akb48 and yeah i finally decided to make it public!! ik its kinda stupid but whatever

so uh basically the au is about mephone4 reaching out to aki-p himself and hes like "hey bro wanna collab?" then aki-p is like "ew no why would i collab with an iphone knock off" then mephone was like "cmon bro i have nothing else to do" and then aki-p finally agrees and there we go ins48 is formed wooo!!! ins48 stands for inanimate island 48 (the bold letters are the letters used in the name) (alr yall im gonna write in actual sentences n stuff now woo) unlike in ii where mephone creates everyone, he actually gets the members (the contestants) through auditions. 14 trainees are chosen as members, and those trainees are the first 14 contestants of season 1 of inanimate insanity, all chosen by mephone. 1. Baseball

2. Knife

3. Nickel

4. Balloon

5. Pepper

6. Lightbulb

7. Salt

8. Paintbrush

9. Bomb

10. Marshmallow

11. Pickel

12. Paper

13. Taco

14. OJ oh also when aki-p saw that there were only 14 members chosen he was like "how are we able to work with this many members?!?" and then mephone was like "cmon let me do all the work" and then yeah ok back to serious stuff now

their songs are sung in english. they officially debut with the single "beginner", originally performed by akb48. everyone was involved in the title track, and the 2 teams were formed: team epic and team chicken leg. both teams got to perform the coupling songs. the songs were "serious rock'n'roll (majisuka rock'n'roll)" performed by team epic and "cherry blossom petals (sakura no hanabiratachi)" performed by team chicken leg. those two songs are also originally performed by akb48. more stuff about the au coming soon!! also heres the ins48 logo :D

INS48!!! WOOO!!! EVERYBODY!!! A LIVE ACT YOU'VE NEVER SEEN BEFORE!!! HERE IN WORLD FAMOUS INANIMATE ISLAND!!! THESE ANGELS HAVE COME DOWN TO PERFORM FOR YOU!!! are. you. ready? ARE! YOU! READY!?! I! N! S! 48!!! I! N! S! 48!!! C'MON!!! ARE! YOU! READY!?!

[tooxmanyxships]

Brocedes for the "are you okay? are you hurt?" prompt 🥺

Ah Brocedes, my heart & soul

Let's go

Nico had watched it happen on the screen like everyone else on the paddock and on the stands.

The sudden crash of Lewis, spinning around until his car banged against the wall.

He watched, holding his breath, but there was no movement in the car.

He could feel Mark and Jenson's eyes on him, while he tried his hardest to avoid them, his eyes glued onto the screen.

He didn't know how long had past, but, he suddenly became restless and had to move. He had to get to the Mercedes pit wall, so that's where he hurried off to.

Toto didn't even seem one bit surprised to see him there, even if he doesn't get why. He knew first hand how bad things had been between him and Lewis.

Maybe he just suspected they made up, but they hadn't. Not really.

They were civil. Neutral.

So why did it feel like his heart was pounding out of his chest?

"Has he answered yet?" His question is aimed at Bono, who just stares at him like he has 2 heads. It's exactly the reaction he'd expected to be honest. "Has Lewis answered yet?"

Bono glances over at Toto, who nods at him, then turns back to Nico. "No. He hasn't."

Fuck.

Shit. Crap.

Scheißse.

Without another thought, Nico rushes forward and pulls Bono's headphones off. He doesn't get a chance to argue because Nico has the headset already firmly on top of his own head.

"Lewis!" He demands into the microphone. "Lewis, answer me."

And finally. Finally he hears crackling from the other end of the line, then a groan.

Nico feels like he can breathe again.

"Yeah..... Yeah, I'm here. Sorry guys."

Nico rips the headset off and tosses it back to Bono.

Without another word, he turns on his heel and struts into the Mercedes garage like he owns the place.

He ignores all the looks he's getting and finds a place to sit.

There's no way he's gonna leave before he's seen with his own 2 eyes that Lewis is still in one piece.

~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~

It takes way too long, at least according to Nico, before Lewis finally arrives at the garage with a marshal.

His seating place long forgotten, Nico had been pacing around, glaring at everyone who even dared to look at him like they were gonna say something.

When he heard exclamations of "Lewis!" from the mechanics, he immediately stopped pacing and swivelled around, looking towards the entrance.

His feet started to move on their own, pushing everyone aside. His hands reaching out, gripping Lewis' shoulders when he was in front of him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Lewis' head shoots up, he was staring down at the ground before, and he just stares at the man in front of him.

"Lewis. Answer me."

"I.... I'm fine."

Nico lets out a long, long breath, like a balloon deflating.

"Thank Gott."

And then... Then it gets awkward.

Nico finally realizes what he's doing. What he's done. He drops his hands off of Lewis' shoulders like they were burning him.

He just stands there, sheepishly, watching the cogs turn inside Lewis' head, his eyes widening a little bit every second.

"Nico, you---"

Nico breaks off the sentence.

"It was good to see you."

Then he slips out of the garage as fast as he came in, ignoring Lewis calling his name behind him.

This was as far as he was gonna let it get.

[hazelnootnut]

Thank you so much for the reception on the animatic I posted! Didn’t expect it to reach 300 views in like two days, that’s a little shocking but very much appreciated! 

As a treat, have some gifs I made from the video itself! I was going to put the still shots in but that would be a little too hard to pick from I think.

[id under the cut, since i’m not able to add alt text to posts using the old post editor; post consists of 10 gifs]

[gif 1 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove Holden from the game Our Life: Beginnings and Always. He flickers into different images, from abstract shapes, white poppies, a stick figure, and his Step 1 and Step 2 designs. The lyrics read "and so i wonder, hey, was it so". [end gif 1 id]

[gif 2 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove, sitting down on the ground. He stares, distraught, as a tear trails down his face. He flickers through a stick figure design, a rough sketch of himself, poppies blooming from his heart, and his Step 1 and 2 designs. Step 1 Cove looks up staring with tears in his eyes in the grass, while Step 2 looks at the camera with surprise. Step 2 is in a suit, referencing the Soiree moment. The lyrics read "no words left to be spoken. and as you left, i didn't stop to reach and grab your sleeve". [end gif 2 id]

[gif 3 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove, sleeping in his bed and in his pajamas. The gif flickers from a rough sketch, an overgrown field of poppies, binary text, and a Step 1 and 2 Cove. Step 1 Cove is sleeping in a sleeping bag, glasses put to the side as the MC's hand reaches for him. Step 2 Cove is sleeping in the bunk bed in the Roadtrip moment, but the MC's head is tucked against his chest. The lyrics read "it doesn't matter what day it is, or matter what i try to do. at the end i'm searching far, no matter what it is, for you." [end gif 3 id]

[gif 4 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove, in his pajamas, looking down at a bowl of strawberries, referencing the Patreon Moment. The bowl flickers into 20 dollar bills, X's and O's, and a scribble. On occasion, Cove flickers into the Step 1 version of himself. Step 1 Cove is sitting at a table with the MC, dolphin balloon tied to his hand and pretzel on the table. He smiles at the MC, whose face is hidden behind her own dolphin balloon. The lyrics read "when you left, the days turned to gray, every single place that i went to each day, it all stays the same". [end gif id 4]

[gif 5 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove, sitting down, with an astronaut helmet on his head. He flickers between a rought sketch of himself, a stick figure version, tiny hexagons, and his Step 1 and Step 2 versions. Step 1 Cove has a box imitating an astronaut helmet on his head, while Step 2 Cove has a fishbowl on his head instead. The lyrics read "with every day that passed, unknowingly, we were slowly going off beat. time ticking on, our love was gone, before i could even think". [end gif id 5]

[gif 6 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove, palm pressed to his face as he cries, a tear dripping down his hand and cheeks. It flickers into a rough sketch, abstract shapes, the sentence "i miss you" repeating over and over his silhouette, and Step 1 and Step 2 versions of himself. Step 1 Cove cries loudly, fist pressed his face, mouth open as he cries. Step 2 Cove hunches into himself, fist pressed to his eye with the other to his chest. The lyrics read "i'm wondering where the two of us will be, to places that we'd have to leave. to forget about it all and live our lives still standing tall?" [end gif id 6]

[gif 7 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove facing to the right of the screen, side profile in view. He cries, not knowing what to do. He flickers into abstract shapes, coloured lines of himself, a shark, and very briefly, into a Step 2 version of him, crying as well. The lyrics read "swear that you won't forget these memories". [end gif id 7]

[gif 8 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove and the MC back-to-back. He stares down sadly at a white poppy between his fingers. The gif transitions into him slowly turning to look at the MC with shock and sadness as she bows and walks out of frame, a tear falling down her cheek. The lyrics read "just passing by and walking on, your back to mind, we headed into the sun". [end gif id 8]

[gif 9 id start]: A gif of Step 3 Cove, clutching a white poppy in his hands. He blinks as tears fall down his cheek, and speaks something, before it very quickly changes into a Step 4 Cove. Step 4 is dressed in a wedding suit, holding a bouquet of white poppies in his hands. He cries, but he's happy. The lyrics read "then could it be that someday on the other side, we'd meet with our arms open wide?" [end gif id 9]

[gif 10 id start]: A gif of Cove, standing by the door of his house as he moves to close it. He has tears in his eyes, but he's smiling sadly but smiling all the same. He raises a hand in goodbye to the camera, presumably where the MC is. The lyrics read "cause it's you that i want to be here". [end gif id 10]

[igotanidea]

Eyes open: Jason Todd x banshee!reader part 2

part 1: not an average girl.

dedication: this is for my long anon, obviously ;) :*

warnings: some easter eggs, cause it's not only dc x reader, but also marvel x reader :D

***

We live in times plagued by an epidemic of loneliness.

8 miliard people in the world and yet - so many of them keep on carrying the weight of their own troubles by themselves, not having a single person to talk to.

8 miliard people and more often than not, even those who are surrounded by people on every day basis feels like they have no one they could truly trust and open up to.  

And Y/N felt it too.

Even when living in her little town where everyone knew everyone.

So once she moved to New York, which was like a whole new world and seeing the see of people, the lights and neons and commercials on every corner, the cars and underground and having to deal with to many things and stimuli all at one, almost gave her anxiety.

But she was strong, she had to push through and try and figure out who she was and - hopefully - what was her place in the world.

And that was why she choose the big apple.

***

Her conversation with her mum was not as bad as she might have expected, but also - the topic of the discussion couldn’t be further from normal.

A banshee.

She was a freaking banshee, also known as the messenger of the death.

Definitely every young woman’s dream, right?

And - classic - no one bothered to inform her about it and she had to find out from some dying talking wolf.

Y/N could barely remember the walk from forest to home, believing what happened to her was just a crazy dream, from which she would wake up any second and end up laughing about whatever her tired, stressed mind have been producing.

But this was not a dream, it was reality.

And even thought she didn’t look like an Irish demon there was still something in her blood that give her some special abilities.

In other words - she was a freak.

„Y/N! Just calm down!” her mother cried out, seeing Y/N’s pale face and trembling hands. In return she got a desperate half-chuckle, half-sob and spilled cup of tea. „Look, I had no idea you will be the gifted one and -”

„gifted? How is that gifted?! It’s more like a curse.

„Y/N--”

„don;t Y/N me!”

„oh, please” her mother almost rolled her eyes at Y/N’s distress. „You make a fuss about something you have no idea about and --”

„I have no idea.” the girl interrupted „because someone kept it a secret from me-”

„Told you I had no idea that it would be you who -”

‘but you knew it was a general possibility!!”

„I was lucky enough for the mutation to omit my generation-”

„Lucky?! So you’re admitting it is in fact a curse!”

„could you please stop yelling?” her mother stood up abruptly and moved to close the door shut. „they don;t need to know.” she was obviously referring to Y/N’s stepdad and stepsister.

 „How?! Why?! What else don’t I know?!Is there a vampire in the family as well? Or- maybe you’ll tell me that grandma was a werewolf?!”

„This is not a freaking twilight Y/N! Or whatever other teenage movie you have watched!”

„But sure as hell is starts to remind me of teen wolf!”

„Stop screaming!”

„No, you stop screaming!”

The truth was, that they were both screaming at each other and closed door did nothing to muffle the sounds. The voices were echoing through the entire house, even though the individual words were incomprehensible. (luckily for the rest of the household).

„Just say it, you were ashamed you had a daughter with some mutation!”

„For the third time - I didn’t know!I had my suspicions it could be you but-”

„You what?” Y/N;s voice got way more hurt and angered, all the emotions escaped from her like from a popped balloon after hearing this half-sentence. „Mum....”

„I’m sorry, sweetie...” her mother grabbed both of her hands squeezing them reassuringly, trying to make Y/N look into her eyes „I truly am, I should have told you about family blood, but I wanted to protect you....”

„Classic excuse.” the girl muttered

„classic excuse of a concerned parent.”

„i;m not a kid anymore! I’m 17! Almost 18!”

„you were not ready for it, Y/N.”

„well now I have to confront this crazy reality without any previous preparation! God, mum! It’s like waking up one day bleeding from the uterus without knowing what period is!”

„Did you just compared being a banshee to menstruation?” her mother chocked on the tea,

„I did not --oh...” her eyes grew wide „oh, damn, I did” she chuckled once, then twice and before she noticed, both she and her mother were laughing out loud about quite unfortunate parallel, the tension gone almost instantly.

„so what now?” the girl asked after a moment

„What do you mean?”

„dunno. You tell me. Do I get some training or something? How do I control it?”

„You don’t.”

„I don’t?!”

Her mother only shook her head.

„It’s not like in the movies or in the books. There is no magic switch that allows you to just turn it off or on. You just have to explore it by yourself.”

„are you sure there’s no instruction manual?”

„definitely not. It;s an individual matter and you have to find your own path” her mother just said

„Well, for the whole not-a-movie line of thinking, this one sentence kind of broke the whole argumentation....”

***

Her own path.

Since, technically speaking she still felt like a freak, it got the wheels in her brain turning.

What was the best place to find out herself and get to learn how to live with her so called gift?

What was the only city that could possibly accept another enhanced human?

Where on Earth she would both fit in the crowd and got space for pursuing the individuality?

Well-

She’s always been a fan of the Avengers....

***

New York.

To quote the classic: concrete jungle where dreams are made of.

Mhm. Right.

But before you reach your mental Empire State building, you have to adjust and become a countryman starting from learning the right accent ending on the skill of stopping the cabs in the never ending traffic and crowd.

18 year old girl living alone in a foreign city.

So many things could go wrong.

But for the first time in her life she felt like she was the one making choices and taking control of her own life. Freaking powerful feeling. And hey! She was a banshee! A literal banshee so everyone better make way cause here she comes!

Being smart and resourceful she got into NYU on R&D and technology faculty and all signs in heaven and earth was showing that she was on the highway to an internship at Stark Industries. If only it wasn’t for this little nerd named Peter Parker.... She could feel something was off with him.

***

So, generally speaking, life was good.

Except for the loneliness. The worst kind of it, loneliness in the crowd when on one hand you feel like  a part of buzzing life and estranged and cut out from society on the other.

But with 8 miliard people in the world, almost 19 millions in NY you just got to keep your eyes open.

***

They first met in the pots and pans section of the supermarket.

She was looking at an air fryer placed at the top that came with the Iron Man puzzle gift set.

Even though she was taller than most of her peers, she couldn't reach it. To hell with high store shelves!

Just as she was about to take a quick trip to shoe shop just to buy a pair of high heels for help, a pair of strong arms appeared in front of her and handed her the air fryer she wanted.

She took it dully, her eyes following those arms once more, her mind restless.

It was another air fryer, different in that the other one came with the Captain America puzzle gift set.

Before she knew it, she was giving a thumbs up.

Just then, he looked over at her.

The first thing she noticed was how handsome he was, and the second thing made her chuckle because he gave her a thumbs up as well. Talk about modern communication where gestures serves as words,.

"You have good taste," he told her, along with a devilish grin, that only confirmed her belief he gave her the star spangled man piece on purpose.

„considering what I was going for - definitely.” she laughed „but thank you either way.”

„wait.” he made a funny face „you’re not actually telling me you prefer the guy with money and technology over the actual hero.”

She smirked. It was no secret that there has always been a bit of civil war between Tony’s and Steve’s fans.

„And what if I do?” Y/N teased, shocked by her own boldness.Maybe the city was having bigger effect on her than she previously thought.

She smirked. It was no secret that there has always been a bit of civil war between Tony’s and Steve’s fans.

„And what if I do?” Y/N teased, shocked by her own boldness.Maybe the city was having bigger effect on her than she previously thought.

'There are so many wrong things with that sentence" the guy rolled his eyes, almost as if he got some first hand experience with billionaire heroes/vigilantes "I suppose I’ll have to convince you you’re wrong?”

„Huh! Classic mansplaining?”

„Say, would you like a cup of coffee? My treat." he raised an eyebrow and she hesitated. After all he was a stranger. „Backing down from a challenge, princess?”

„Oh it’s on!” he was a stanger and she was a banshee. If anyone would feel upcoming tragedy it would definitely be her.

Yeah... you just gotta keep your eyes open.

Out of all the places in the world - Jason and Y/N’s story began in a small household appliances department.

....

[oceanbug]

ghostbusters

smau an yujin x reader

2. Graveyard Culture.

~​˖⁺. ༶꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦🕸️꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷༶ .⁺​˖~~​˖⁺. ༶꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦🕸️꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷༶ .⁺

“Is everything alright?”

You and Beogyum whipped your heads up and quickly put away your phones. You knew there was no way for Yujin to know you were texting about her, but you did feel slightly guilty. Even psychopaths don’t deserve to be talked to behind their backs.

“Nah, Y/N’s just chicken.”

“Aw, are you nervous about meeting Nari? I know I was when I first met her too! Don’t worry, we can hold hands.”

Yujin grabbed your hands and held them tight. You didn’t have the guts to tell her you didn’t want to be there or that you thought she was really weird. Instead, you focused on the positive side of things: You’re holding hands with a pretty girl!

In a scary graveyard. Probably on your way to your death.

Kim Nari’s graveyard was very easy to spot. It was filled with balloons and all sorts of decorations and treats. It seemed like she had been very popular in her era; maybe you’ll go home and give her a listen? And it did fill you with ease to see that Nari was a real person and not a fig-mate of Yujin’s imagination. Maybe the pretty girl wasn’t crazy after all?

"Ok, let’s set up our blankets here. I’m so excited to have lunch!”

Ok, still slightly weird. Eating at a stranger's graveyard is slightly weird.

“Sick, I’m starving!”

Why is he okay with this?

You tried putting your nervousness behind you, slightly picking at the food given to you. Yujin was a pretty good cook! You sat there for 30 minutes and listened to Yujin tell stories about Kim Nari. She explained how she revolutionized K-pop in the 80s and how she rocketed to fame at only 18 years old! You were kind of impressed, then remembered you’re currently 18 and poor. You are now slightly sad. -5 HP.

After what felt like an entirety between Yujin’s stories and Beogyum’s awful attempt at flirting, it was finally time to wrap up. The experience wasn’t so bad! Would you do this again? No! But at least you solidified your role in this club.

“Ok, before we start leaving, we have to have dessert!”

Getting excited about what baked goods Yujin could have brought with her, all your attention had been on her hands as she pulled out.....

An Ouija board?

Nevermind. You take it back. Yujin’s crazy.

“It’s my favorite part of visiting—getting to talk with Nari! It’s a sweet treat.”

Beogyum and you had shared a look that clearly read: What the fuck?

Maybe he was finally starting to see how insane Yujin sounds.

“Oh, is this your first time? Don’t worry, I’ll lead you guys! We can work together, the three of us!

This is not how I imagined my first threesome.

“Really, this is exactly how I imagined mine.”

“Did you just read my mind, Beom?”

“No, you’re talking out loud.”

“Oh.”

Well, anyway, you braced yourself for what evil incarnation you’d be speaking to. Normally you would have left, but this is your only chance at passing the semester; you’d do anything at this point. Even playing ‘The Conjuring’ with some hot classmate.

“Okay, everyone, come in the middle. I’ll lay out the board and say the enchantment. No matter what, don’t take your hands off the board.”

You all got in a triangle, and put your hands on the board. Your heart started to beat fast; this was getting spooky.

“Okay, here we go! Oh, great spirit of Kim Nari, come to me. Come celebrate and honor your life as it once was, and walk on the path of the earth’s concrete once more. Spirit, if you can hear me, give me a signal.”

Nothing happened.

Until it did. Suddenly, you felt your hand move toward the yes part of the board. Usually, you would assume someone moved their hands on purpose to make things seem real. But once your hands were on the yes, you heard a low-barley audible whisper in your ear.

“I am here, child.”

That voice wasn’t Yujin or Beogyum. You panicked and whipped your head back, taking your hands off the board.

“Y/n, no! Your hands don’t take your-"

Before Yujin got to finish her sentence, the board began to shake, and a bright white light blinded you.

Before you, there was a pale, raven-haired woman who appeared no older than 25. If this wasn’t enough to scare you, she was levitating off the ground and translucent.

“No way, that’s..." Beogyum stared, eyes wide open.

“The names Nari, Kim Nari, and kid, you messed up big time.”

~​˖⁺. ༶꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦🕸️꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷༶ .⁺​˖~~​˖⁺. ༶꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦🕸️꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷༶ .⁺​

masterlist - next

(Synopsis) Joining your school’s ‘Poltergeist’ club wasn’t exactly on your list of high school goals, but summoning 1980’s idol legend ‘Kim Nari' definitely wasn't part of the plan. It’s up to you and your club’s president, An Yujin, to put her soul to rest. But how do you help a K-pop idol when no one else can see her?

taglist (OPEN): @i06kkura

[petite-guignol]

10 and 17 for the writing ask meme!

10: Shortest WIP I'm not sure what they mean by "shortest" but I think by any measure it's probably this Octopath Traveler thing that was intended to be the first of several 100-word drabbles, except I apparently stopped writing it mid-sentence and forgot about it forever. Did not even get to 100 words. embarrassing

17: Fics you'll continue next year well i really want to prioritize original stuff this year, but hopefully i'll be on top of things enough to write some fic too. of the stuff that 1) has actual writing associated with it and not just a blurb in an "ideas" doc and 2) hasn't been officially moved to the Graveyard folder, i think these are the ones i actually DO want to keep working on/hopefully finish: 1) FF14 - Golbez/Durante fic that started as just weird living armor smut but ended up getting really involved with flashbacks and shit. stalled out on it because i couldn't decide what Golbez looked like

2) FF14 - this emmanellain/honoroit fic i started writing when like Stormblood was current. its actually mostly done but i cant figure out how to end it and since it's been like 6 years i think i should probably make an effort to just like. figure something out. literally anything

3) Origfic - edit and figure out what to do with this necromancer/ghoul story i wrote in response to a prompt in some fic exchange ages ago and it ballooned into a novella, which i never quite finished so i never posted it. not sure if the intended recip is even still around honestly but i do kinda like it regardless

4) FF4 - i'm actually not 100% certain i will continue this but i started writing this Kain/Edward fic with background Kain/Golbez shit that was way up inside Kain's head, so it ended up being both extremely dark and not having a lot actually happening. idk i was just not sure where i was going with this but might revisit it

5) FF4 - the Feymarch Edward AU. hoo boy. ok the basic concept is that Rydia and Edward both end up clinging to the same piece of flotsam when Leviathan wrecks their ship, so he ends up swallowing both of them and Edward gets stuck in the Feymarch with Rydia. its mostly about their relationship and Edward figuring out how to navigate monster society as the only regular-ass human who has set foot in the Feymarch in centuries, getting embroiled in otherworld politics and Rydia's increasingly esoteric training and Golbez's scheme to acquire the dark crystals, that sort of thing. Until of course, without Edward around to help, the dark elf is like. effectively invincible and nobody can get the earth crystal. Golbez ends up cutting a cosmic-tier deal with the dark elf, shit hits the fan, Rydia and Edward have to leave the Feymarch early, etc etc.

it's complicated and i dont really know what im doing when it comes to writing long plotty fics and it involves SO much worldbuilding headcanon nonsense and i keep getting increasingly convoluted and niche ideas for it (scarmiglione is a major character? summoner edward?) but something about it keeps me coming back to poke at it

[sterekchub]

Derek gets into craft beer brewing to make werewolf friendly beers. Along the way he develops a beer belly…which only blossoms further the more into it he gets. Eventually he has a werewolf brewing company where his employees all refer to him as “the tank” based on his size.

Derek with a beer belly is...my EVERYTHING. He has to eventually open his own company because Stiles makes a few too many jokes about Derek and how he's becoming a personal beer keg and forgot a beer warehouse- Derek's gut is getting big enough to be a storage tank! Derek in tight jeans and a company T-shirt, love handles poking out the top, belly peeking out of the bottom of his shirt, and jeans so tightly stretched across his ass they're starting to look transparent. He's usually too busy at work to eat so he does a lot of "liquid lunches" but when he does go to company BBQs or has a taco truck come to the brewery (or when he finally goes on a date with Stiles)- it's obvious all that beer drinking has stretched out his stomach capacity and given him a BIG appetite. Most of the time- Derek is casually sipping the wolfsbane free beers to do quality and flavor control to avoid getting drunk. But on more than one occasion Stiles has run into a slightly tipsy Derek, hiccupping and burping and a little less aware of personal space. There's been a few times Stiles has been wedged against a doorway by Derek's bulk, or watched as Derek leans too heavily against a table and lets out a surprised belch as his belly spreads out against the surface. Derek who is a little grumpy and socially awkward so he empties at least a keg or two at the company Christmas party before he can get the courage to ask out Stiles... Ends up so filled with beer, Stiles swears he can hear it sloshing in Derek's stretched gut, his belly wobbling and slightly swaying back and forth with each unsteady step. AND on the subject of Derek "The tank" - the specific stages of Derek swelling with beer. 1. The "I'm not going to drink too much." He tells Stiles not to be ridiculous, he is having a beer or two because it's his job. Nothing more, they don't need a repeat of last week. 2. "Bloated and tipsy" is next. Derek hasn't been skinny enough to actually look bloated, but he reaches a point of "full" and his stomach is gurgling and stretching more with bubbles and the sloshing, carb- heavy weight building and building. It's really the stage MOST coworkers find him in, the middle of his day, happily chugging beer while he's sitting at his computer, one hand occasionally stifling burps as he barks out orders. 3. "Overloaded" comes next, when Derek is relaxed enough to not feel on edge around his coworkers, when he's laughing and joking like he's friends and not just the boss. He gets physical and affectionate with Stiles, will jokingly use his bulk to pin him against the wall (or occasionally go through with his threats to sit on him, which resulted in at least 2 broken chairs). Starts getting the lumbering waddle to his walk, like he's got a water-filled balloon attached to his middle, ready to burst. 4. The final stage is the "Team effort to fill the tank" when Derek is so full - he can't even find the energy to speak in full sentences. Mostly belches out "hic one buaaaaaarp more!" or "I got uaaaarp room for another bwarrrrp one!" It's become a workplace competition to bet how many more beers they can pour down Derek's throat. How wide Derek's gut will have swollen by the end of it.