#this was supposed to go in a different longer fic but it didn't fit

[deweysdenouement]

“This stays between us,” Ernest instructs his brother as Frank silently stitches the small but deep wound on his right side. “Seriously. Not even if Dewey asks.”

“I’ve never been accused of being a gossip,” Frank murmurs, finishing his work with surgeon-like precision.

“Come on, you owe me one.” Ernest nudges him with his boot. “That man thought I was you.”

“I always tell you not to do that,” Frank scowls. “You should have let me take the hit.”

“You would do the same for me. You have done the same for me.”

Frank drops the used needle into the tray beside his couch with a clank and a blank expression. “That was different,” he says. “I didn’t know the poison was in the sugar. I thought the violence would start after the tea.”

“You expect too much civility from your side,” Ernest tells him. “They were trying to kill either way. Why let someone finish their breakfast?”

“They were very polite.” Frank pours rubbing alcohol onto a cotton pad. “And J always…hey, do not scratch those stitches.”

“My associates just went for the gut.” Ernest winces at the burning sensation of the alcohol. “Didn’t take much of a look at me.”

Frank stares at him. He’s got the kind of stare that goes right through a person.

“What?”

“You’re upset,” Frank states.

“Alright, Captain Empathy.” Ernest rolls his eyes. “I scratched the stitches and it hurt, just get on with telling me off.”

“That would probably make both of us feel better,” Frank agrees. “But I’m asking you why anyway.”

“If you’d been the one who got stabbed, you’d have clammed up until the end of time,” Ernest says bitterly.

“We’re different people.” Frank puts down the cotton pad and folds his hands.

“I wish we were,” Ernest snaps, which he doesn’t mean to say at all, but his side is burning and a not-insignificant amount of his blood is on the floor.

Frank just nods. He doesn’t need any further explanation.

“Do you remember when we were little?” Ernest asks finally. “Before…before everything. And I cried because we all got different colour scarves for our birthday and I wanted red like yours?”

“So we’d match.” Frank smiles a little. “Yours was green.”

“And Dewey’s was yellow.” Ernest nods. “But Father sat us down and he told us that he didn’t want us to just be identical triplets our whole lives. He wanted us all to be as different as we could possibly be. That’s the only memory I have of him.”

“I remember,” Frank’s voice is soft. “I don’t think they ever mixed us up once.”

“I hate that they believed I was you so easily,” he says. Then, “No offence.”

Frank snorts.

“They don’t see a single tell,” he continues. “We’re one person on two sides. Where do you draw the line? What’s me, and what’s me pretending to be you? And what’s me pretending to be you pretending to be me? Are we both just pretending to be a manager?”

“Ernest.” Frank holds out a hand. “Stop.”

“Sorry.” Ernest shakes his head. “Too sincere for you?”

“I read the files on our parents,” Frank says quietly.

Ernest stills. Dewey had handed them each a copy of VFD’s records of their parents some years ago. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read them, and neither had Ernest. He had been under the impression that Frank had never touched them either. The last he was aware, none of them knew a single thing about their parents beyond blurry, unreliable memories.

“How is that relevant?” Ernest says at last.

“Because…” Frank considers his words. “I looked at all these photos. I read people’s accounts of meeting them. Letters they wrote, diary entries. Even their school reports.”

“And?”

“And I’m nothing like them.” Frank smiles grimly. “I’m too neurotic, I was too clingy at school, I don’t laugh much. Our mother loved sesame and I’m allergic. Our father couldn’t focus on anything, but I can’t put something down until it’s finished. And they seemed so fun.”

“Where is this going?”

“Let me finish.” Frank huffs. “Our father questioned everything. He made trouble every single day at school, but it was because he had the strongest sense of justice any of those teachers had ever seen. He was charming and funny and he loved the sauna. He was a terrible dancer but a great singer. He wanted to be a cowboy when he was little.”

“Frank.” He can feel a dam starting to crack, something swelling to bursting in his chest.

“You’re not me,” Frank says sternly but gently. “You’re our father’s son. And that man is so loved and so missed. Which I’m told he would have been cocky about.”

Ernest laughs a little shakily.

Later, when he returns to his own room to rest, he finds a photo tucked into the pages of the book on his nightstand.

The man in it has a squarer jaw and darker hair, but the smile that looks back at him is like staring in a mirror.

[windydrawallday]

[A Different Type Of Hunt]

[...] “Well then,” he capitulated, “if you won't interrupt, I'll allow your presence for the time being on this hunt,” he said, before he thought about the other a little longer, and spoke up cautiously: “Unless you wish to compete for the ‘bounty’?” “Is there anything to be gained from it?” came an immediate ask, which made him relax as he almost let out a snicker. “Nothing but personal satisfaction.” […] “It's almost cute how much you want me gone, Prowl.” “After all this, you better hope you won't find me straight up adorable,” Prowl shot back with irritation, making sure to cause the branch he was holding to hit the hunter straight in his stupid face, even if he had to jump up to reach one at the adequate height.

➡️[Keep Reading the Full Story HERE]⬅️

My art entry (and first year participating) for the @tf-bigbang ! And because this was a "Mini-Reverse" version, I took the opportunity of illustrating a very BIG COMPLEX picture of my fav TFA rascals of course 🐦🦡💚

🌟 And I matched with @ivycorp as a writer pal! She did such an AWESOMESAUCE job portraying them in this dynamic! Practically a 1:1 of how I see them personally: lots of funny, endearing, bantering, and even somber moments plus a delightful of descriptions that's like taking a sip of a tropical drink 🍹

✨ Please, give it a read! Or if you know someone who likes this pairing, recommend it! We tried to make something that can be enjoyed by many without the need to support them as a pairing and I think this will be one of the few SFW fics on AO3 of them LMAO that was a plus goal achieved.

Under the cut, I'll keep babbling about my piece because... this had quite THE journey of a process for me, enjoy!

If you think the final thing looks already complicated: watch again, here is the ORIGINAL PLAN...

I usually don't render this refined because I don't use textured-pattern-ready brushes but work stroke by stroke on the canvas like an old oil painting. Most of the time I render all in one layer (or merge various layers at the end). So it ends quite taxing, but so rewarding to look at!

It got quite the amount of rearranging and redrawing of scenes to fit better in each place, so that was another factor that burned me up slowly, I guess...

Sadly, I didn't take into account how much time these took, and because I'm not the same person from years ago with free time to sit down and focus for more than 3 hs on a pic (these usually demand between 6 to 8 hs of attention without counting extra corrections) I ended cutting down half the planed scenes :')

But hey! Probably I'll go back to them and finish them to set everything how originally was supposed to be. But for now, I'll take a good rest (my wrists are still trembling a bit) and bask in the beauty of my pal's work too... and bless the admins of the event FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME orz

Thank you, from the moon and back! 🌙💖

[americas1suiteheart]

Hi! Hope you are doing well! So, Tangerine x Reader: any headcanons about Tan as a partner? Thanks!

I'm doing great in fact, thank you for the request! Headcannons are my favourite thing to write, hope this is fitted to your taste.

Dating Tangerine Would Include...

Tangerine x GN! Reader Headcannons

Warnings; Violence, smoking, violence, it's a bullet train fic, guys

Notes; I love writing for Tan so much you guys have no idea, I get to cuss as much as I want to in these fics

Oh man, he's such a softie for you, you have absolutely no idea.

He can go from being the same grumpy prick to other people and have one of the worst days but when he's around you he's calling you love and darling, clinging onto you practically and just showering you in kisses.

He's so clingy, as soon as either of you get home he's begging you to sit with him on the couch just so you could cuddle. And if your making dinner expect him to try to help but just end up holding you by your waist the whole time.

Lemon thinks it's the cutest thing how tangerine acts around you. He thinks its hilarious how quickly Tan switches up with you.

"-you're the one that doesn't fucking know how to go on about this job correctly! You're such a fucking idiot sometimes Lemon it's insu-" Tangerine yells at his brother before being interrupted by you.

"Whats going on? What are you two fighting about now?" You say in annoyance.

"Nothing darling, just please go back to the living room I'll be right there okay love," Tangerine tells you softly, pressing a kiss to your head before you leave.

"You're a right fuckin' sap for them, Tan," Lemon snickers at Tangerines change of attitude and tone.

"I'll put your fuckin' head through a wall, honest to god Lemon."

He just loves when your laying with eachother and you run your hands through his curls.

I'd like to think you help him take care of his hair actually. Like, he would know how to take care of it properly before, but he let's you put different product in his hair to make sure he doesn't miss any areas on his hair, (In reality he just wants to be touched by you in some way).

Being a part time nurse for him and Lemon definitely became a thing almost immediately after you two started dating. Constant cleaning of wounds and such, just constantly.

The days when he's on missions he's constantly texting you as much as he can, checking up on you to make sure you're doing well.

There are times where he's come home a couple days or even weeks later than he had originally anticipated without being able to contact you, and you'd be absolutely furious, (sometimes not knowing that he wasn't able to contact you at all).

"What the fuck happened, Tan! I thought you were dead. You hadn't even texted me or anything, you were supposed to be back 5 days ago! You had me absolutely worried sick!" You yell.

Tan had been gone for almost 2 weeks when the mission was only supposed to last a week. And on top of that he hadn't phoned or even tried to text you. If it weren't for Lemon telling you that they were fine 2 days before they showed up you would've assumed the worst had happened.

"I really am sorry my darling, the mission was just much harder than we'd expected and we got stuck there longer than nessasary." He explained quietly.

"But why hadn't you contacted me at all? If it weren't for lemon calling me I would've thought you two were gone for good!"

"My telephone got broken by some prick the 3rd day into the mission whilst we were fighting. And I didn't think to used lemon's phone because I was so frazzled the whole time. Really darling, I didn't mean to frighten or worry you."

"Alright.. Sorry I freaked out on you but I really was worried. I'm just glad you're okay now." You walk to Tangerine, pulling him into a hug.

" 's alright love, I'm glad you and I are good too. Let's go wash up and go to bed, I've got blood all over me and my fuckin' clothes and it don't feel too great," Tangerine says, picking you up and taking you to your shared bedroom.

Loves taking baths with you, taking turns washing eachother off makes him feel all warm inside, that you trust eachother enough at that point in your relationship. He thinks it's so sweet though.

Sometimes when he goes outside to have a smoke he'll invite you out with him so you two can just talk. If you smoke he'll probably share one with you too.

Very protective.. Being he's an assassin and all, he'd most definitely go to extremes if someone had been bothering you. Some random person flirted with you? Dead. A someone you knew in high school used to bully you? Dead. Any person that has hurt you no matter how long ago will probably end up dead.

You two are so good for eachother though. Strangely the healthiest relationship you will ever have. Please don't break this poor boy's heart. He will be absolutely devastated and blame himself for it. Underneath all of that muscle and confidence he's very emotional and sensitive.

Will ask to marry you and even possibly start a family with you if you're up for it. (Adoption or old fashioned depending on your biological sex).

Loved writing this, and I was infact so excited that I finished this in just 2 hours🤭

[viviennevermillion]

flowers for an aching heart

✧ notes: day 2 of my "autumn remedies" event! if you liked this fic, consider reblogging and commenting! here's some useful information on how to recognize abusive behaviors in relationships. stay safe y'all!

✧ synopsis: gepard learns of your abusive past relationship and promises to always treat you with consideration and care. 1.8k words

✧ now playing: pink medley — kurt hugo schneider

✧ warnings: mentions of past abusive relationship, aftermath of emotional abuse

To Gepard, you were the most beautiful flower he had ever laid eyes upon. He'd smile at you when you weren't looking, just watching you idly go about your day beside him while asking himself how he had managed to end up with you. He felt lucky that he was privy to your love. After all, through the hardly intelligible stammering and blushing when he had asked you out for the first time, the chance had been there for you to just not understand what he was trying to convey to you. You had told him once that the bouquet of flowers he brought to you that day was pretty much the tell-tale sign that he was attempting to ask you out. Now that he got your affection and love everyday, he hardly remembered what it was he was so worried about. Although, that didn't stop him from getting flustered about it anyway.

At first Gepard had thought that you were shy, just as he was. But as more time passed with him being your partner, he found that that didn't quite fit the bill. You always seemed cautious, as if walking on a tightrope around him. He didn't know what to do to make you realize that he'd always be there to catch you when you fell. You chose your words carefully; always checked back with him whether there had been something you said that had upset him. He just shook his head. "I would tell you if there was anything, promise", he had reassured you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

To you, the love that Gepard gave was anything but self-evident. You've known love that was selfish and exploitative. Escalation and affection that spun an endless cycle, sucking you dry of emotion like a vampire who'd leave you to bleed after they had gotten their fill. You knew now that what you had experienced was but an abstracted distortion of the concept of love and you knew in your heart that Gepard was different. But unlearning that was hard. You tried your best to trust him and you only really noticed you had been tiptoeing around his reactions again when he seemed a little lost about your overly cautious nature.

Probably even more than he did, you too yearned for a love that didn't leave you on edge and you knew that being with Gepard was a step into that direction. He was kind and considerate. He'd always make sure you were alright; would check that you weren't too cold or uncomfortable or overworking yourself. You knew, rationally, judging from everything you had learnt about him, that he didn't expect anything in return; that your love wasn't currency for your freedom and safety. But you supposed that was simply part of the journey. Knowledge needed time to arrive in the mind of the individual and often even longer to settle in their hearts. You'd get there in time. You just hoped he hadn't enough of you by that point.

You knew Gepard was a patient man. Perhaps an amount of patient that astounded you and left you to wonder whether it was just your warped perception; an ideal of him that you conjured up in your mind. You were used to the world around you burning; always a little bit. Sometimes sparks would quietly rise from the wreckage; other times you had been caught in the eye of an inferno. But now that the fire was out; what was there ahead? Where should you start in this unfamiliar world?

You were so lost in your thoughts that Gepard's voice behind you caught you off-guard and you promptly dropped the flower pot that you had been holding. It was a rare seed that hadn't been seen in Belobog for 700 years during the Eternal Freeze. The plant had recently been imported by IPC merchants, but it was still quite hard to get one's hand on. The shattering sound echoed through your ears right into your head and you felt your heartbeat quicken. You remembered how excited Gepard had been about obtaining this plant. It had been growing steadily for about 3 months now and he had been really proud of how it turned out.

You made a mistake. The scars on your soul told you that mistakes would rekindle the fire; reignite the pain. It was why you were careful; why you'd tread lightly wherever you went. The world was burning again in this moment and at the same time the eternal cold was creeping up your skin, leaving you to shiver and freeze, only waiting for what would come next.

Gepard turned his head to you from across his small greenhouse abruptly, alarmed at the sound. He looked a little disappointed about the broken plant but the feeling immediately faded when he noticed the tears in your eyes which you yourself hadn't even realized were there. Gepard put the flower he was holding down gently and made his way over to you. With each step he took, you grew more afraid of his reaction. But instead of getting mad, instead of blowing up like a ticking time bomb, the man you loved simply took off his comically oversized gardening gloves so he could cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears away with his thumb. His delicate touch and the honest and loving look he gave you felt like it was about to burn your skin, yet it felt soothing.

"Hey... don't cry", he whispered quietly and pressed gentle kisses to your skin. First the tip of your nose, then your cheek; until his lips eventually met yours in a sweet kiss. Your lips trembled under his and you felt relief wash over you. And yet, somehow that made you cry more. It felt a little embarrassing, even though that was far from how your boyfriend saw you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, feeling a little lost on what to do. He sat down on the floor of the greenhouse and opened his arms to you. "Come here." You listened and sat down between his legs, letting yourself melt into his arms. You took a few deep breaths and closed your eyes, the world seeming to stop for as long as Gepard kept holding onto you. His embrace was one of safety and protection and sometimes you cursed yourself for forgetting that. But old habits died hard. "Can I ask you a question...?", Gepard seemed hesitant and you knew what conversation this would bring, "I've always noticed that sometimes you seem on edge around me... especially since we started dating... and I keep wondering whether it's something I did. Please tell me how I can make you feel better. I want to make you happy, that's all I really want." You spotted that familiar blush on his face.

This time it was your turn to press a soft kiss to his lips, which seemed to catch him by surprise and just made him even more flustered. You knew he deserved to hear the truth from you, to understand that he didn't do anything to upset you. So you told him. You told him of your previous relationship. How this person had made you scared and hesitant; made you afraid of messing up. How you had lost sight of the parts of you that you liked the most and instead became a people pleaser, at least for a little while. How they made you doubt your perception. First it had been the relationship, then you slowly had started to question your capability for accurate judgement even outside of it. You felt unsure, unsafe. Stuck on a tightrope and only one gust of wind away from falling. You remembered the nights in which you had found it difficult to rest. How you had felt ridiculous and embarrassed of things you had previously been proud of.

Gepard listened attentively. You mused that perhaps, now that you let it all out, you went on a little bit of a tangent. You just hoped you hadn't scared him off. Gepard took your hands into his and looked into your eyes with a sincere expression. "Thank you for telling me... I understand now", he whispered and gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb; hesitating at first, "I get it, really... my... my father was like that. I don't really talk about it often... in retrospect, maybe I should have."

He let out an awkward chuckle. "Believe it or not... Serval was always the strong one", he confessed, "I couldn't keep anyone safe back then." "You can now. That's what matters", you hugged him closely, "I feel safe with you." Gepard hugged you back. "I'm glad to hear that. I love you", he kissed your cheek again, "you don't ever have to worry about upsetting me. I would never want to hurt you." You nodded.

Gepard pulled out a pack with seeds from his pocket. "Oh, you have another one?", you asked upon realizing it was the same plant you had dropped. He nodded and smiled. "I came prepared."

He stared down at the seeds absentmindedly. "You know...", he began, "I always thought flowers are the most beautiful when they bloom freely without interference; no matter how they turn out. The same goes for people. Even if you mess up, I first and foremost want to see you thrive. I want to support you and be by your side through the good and the bad. And I'll be proud of you for every bit of progress you make."

You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a desperate kiss, tears falling down your cheeks again. But this time they did because you were moved by his words and how much love you had found in them. He kissed you deeply and lovingly, holding your hand in his to reassure you he'd be here with you for as long as you'd have him. He kissed away your sorrows and when your lips finally parted you found yourself with a bright smile on your face once more.

"Sorry about your plant", you sighed. He chuckled. "Seems we both just might be bad gardeners", he got up from the greenhouse floor and reached his hand out to you with an encouraging expression, "but we can try again - together." You took his hand, like a lifeline that was thrown to you to pull you from the deepest depths of the ocean. And looked forward to your future with him.

You knew now what came after the fire. Even the harshest inferno would eventually subside to make space for new beginnings and rebirth. One seed could one day grow into a vibrant garden if you just nurtured it and gave it time.

Life would always reclaim the space that destruction had left behind. And it all started with a couple of seeds, a few discarded flower pots and the warmth of Gepard's smile.

[mingkismain]

Wrong Ingredient - wooyoung x reader

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an; hi guys! i think i started writing this months ago and i finally had the inspiration to finish it! this was supposed to be a halloween fic if that tells you anything abt how long my creative drought was D: but xoxo hope you freaks enjoy <333

wooyoung x fem!reader

genre; smut

word count; 3,380

warnings/tags; pwp, piv, unprotected sex [don't do that], switch!wooyoung and switch!reader [muahaha], slight overstim for reader [and woo tbh], hair pulling, little bit of aftercare

MDNI

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Becoming a potion brewer wasn't your end goal once you had left school, but it helped put a roof over your head and pay for your other hobbies. Plus, your abilities had only improved with time which helped your clientele spread out past the town you lived in. Which was how you met Wooyoung, a wizard a little older than you from a few towns over. He was one of your only clients that would make a house visit to pick up an order, you usually just delivered right to the other towns a few times during the week.

Today, Wooyoung had decided to stop in and order instead of writing to you beforehand, which led to him hanging around your place while you worked on his order. He was no different from a house cat, walking around and exploring, getting too close to what you were working on and nearly ruining it.

"Woo for the love of gods please stay to that side of my cauldron! I don't want you knocking any of my ingredients off the shelves! I don't refund if you fuck up your own order!" You huffed, readjusting your hair and getting back to your brewing.

"Alright! Sorry, just nosey, you know I have no idea how any of this works! That's like, the main reason I come see you," he wandered back over to the other side of your brewing room, reading the spines of all your potion creating books.

"It's fine to be curious but too much curiosity and you can end up with a horrible result," you stopped stirring and looked up to face him, "this has to sit and simmer for a little longer. I'm going to run outside and check my request letters. Do not touch what's brewing or you'll be so sorry." He nodded his head repeatedly.

"Yes ma'am, I'll stay over here and read your books." He gave you a half salute as you walked up your stairs.

Oh, but of course, he was lying to you.

As soon as he saw you were out of eyesight, he crept over to your cauldron, peering in to see what you had made him. He inhaled and immediately went into a coughing fit.

"Gods this reeks! I can't have this shit sitting in my house, it'll drive all my company away!" He fanned his hand in front of his nose to rid the smell as he scanned your shelves for some aromatic he could sneak in. "Yeah, this'll do," he reached for a bottle you had labeled 'red ginseng' and carefully plucked it from your shelf. He had no idea how much to add, but surely a handful of this stuff would rid his potion of that awful smell. Wooyoung poured a handful [and whatever spilled out of his hand] into the mixture and watched it to make sure he didn't blow your house up.

Thankfully he didn't, but he changed the color of the potion by mistake, what was once a bright blue, now made a dull brownish hue. Wooyoung frantically scanned your shelves for something to fix his stupid mistake, surely you had something that could reverse something as simple as a color change??

There was something that caught his eye, on your bottom shelf, tucked away in the back was a bottle with the label peeling off, but from what he could read, it seemed promising.

"Hmm.. 'use in only your most dire of situations' or, something like that." He shrugged, surely that's what the barely there label said. He didn't have much time to think about it as he heard your front door close. He ran back to the cauldron, dumping the rest of the contents of the bottle into it and quickly stirring with the spoon you'd left out. He tucked the bottle into his inner pocket and ran back to your bookshelf just as your footsteps were heard on the stairs.

You squinted at him as you reached the bottom of the staircase, "I really didn't think you'd listen, I thought for sure you would blow my house up."

He chuckled weakly as he flipped randomly through one of your books, "yeah of course I would listen to you! Wouldn't want my order to get messed up like you said," he kept his eyes down at the book as you walked over to your cauldron.

"This should be done now, I'm gonna give it a quick taste test," you took your cauldron off the heat, grabbing your spoon and bringing some of the finished product to your lips, slowly sipping as it was still so hot. Right away something seemed off to you, "strange," Wooyoung moved his eyes to watch you, "Woo, you ordered just a food enhancing potion right?" He nodded. "Can you come taste this? It tastes different from the other batches I've made for you."

He cautiously got up, coming right next to you as you lifted your spoon to his mouth. Taking as much as you did, he spoke after a moment, "yeah it's sort of off, I guess."

You squinted your eyes for a second before realizing and whacking him on the arm with your spoon, "you idiot! I knew you did something to this! What did you add?!"

He backed up, attempting to run from your swings, "nothing bad! Just something to make it smell better! Ow!"

"Woo!" *thwack!* "That's what I was going to do after it was done simmering!" *thwack!* "Show me exactly what you put in here!" *thwack!*

He walked around you as you stood with your spoon still in hand and pointed to the jar of red ginseng.

"And how much did you put in?"

He shrugged, "about a handful? Give or take."

You walked over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him a little, "dude, when I say to not fuck with my stuff I mean it! Red ginseng is an aphrodisiac! Now we have to wait for this shit to run its course!" As you continued to shake him, something fell out of his robe and rolled onto the floor. You stopped and bent down to pick it up, you eyes nearly falling out of your head when you saw what it was.

You took a few deep breaths, "Wooyoung, I swear on all my mothers, did this come from my shelf too?"

He tried to take a few steps away but you grabbed his arm, tightly. "It might have....."

If you knew any of the spells to instantly kill someone surely your first victim would be Wooyoung.

You took another deep breath in, "Woo, did it ever occur to you that maybe this bottle was in the way back of my shelf for a reason? That maybe it's a little stronger than most of my ingredients?"

He shook his head no.

"Woo. Maybe if you had taken the time to try and read the barely there label, you would've seen that it says 'use in only your most desirable situations'. This is a very strong aphrodisiac! So not only did you add one aphrodisiac, you added another, ridiculously strong aphrodisiac to that! So now we are actually going to have to suffer while waiting for this to wear off!"

He went over to the chaise lounge chair you had by your bookcase and sprawled out on it, "alright look, we just have to wait it out. How bad could that be?"

----

Turns out it was really, really bad.

You began to count the stones on the floor to distract yourself from the worsening symptoms. Nothing was working. Every time you got to five or six your brain would reroute to all of the nasty things Wooyoung could do to you. You had to keep shaking your head to reset your thoughts but things kept getting worse and worse. As time went on and you tried to wait it out, you kept moving your eyes from the floor to Wooyoung’s hands, to the seam where his pants met, mind drifting to wondering how big his cock might be, if he knew how to use it, what he sounds like. You could feel your skin growing hotter, face starting to flush, more dirty thoughts were starting to crowd your brain. Your vision was about to go when Wooyoung called your name,

"How long can this go on?"

You met his eyes, "I'm really not sure, I've never had this happen before."

He began to crawl forward on the lounge, "well, what if we did something to help get rid of the symptoms?"

Your head was already starting to get foggy, without thinking you started to crawl towards him, "and what should we do?"

You met him at the edge of the lounge chair, nose to nose, lips just barely touching. He turned his head so he could whisper in your ear, “I think we should fuck each others' brains out, on this chair, until the symptoms wear off. And maybe even after they wear off I'll continue to make you feel good, yeah?"

Your breathing hitched and you swore he could hear your heartbeat, he turned back to meet your eyes and you leaned in to grab him in a deep kiss, crawling up to lean back on the chair with him under you.

"Aw, pretty girl wants me to make her feel good? That what you want?"

You whimpered and nodded your head quickly. The aphrodisiacs were putting your body into overdrive, rendering you unable to think about anything other than getting this man inside of you. You were grabbing at anything you could reach, shrugging his robe off his shoulders, followed by yours hitting the ground; soon it was a frenzy of fabrics flying around the room until you were both naked. In the mess of taking clothes off, you two had switched positions on the couch, you were now lying under Wooyoung, which gave him perfect access to your entire body. His lips began kissing and sucking and biting all over your neck, leaving small hickies that would surely darken as he continued. His hands wandered all over, unable to find a spot to rest. From groping your ass, to moving up and grabbing your tits, flicking and tweaking your nipples as he moved. His lower half wouldn’t stay still either, his cock constantly grinding against your bare pussy, making you leak onto the lounge and only aiding in making you feel like your skin was on fire. His lips continued biting and licking at your neck, moving up to your ear and lightly biting it, letting go to whisper, “what do you need babe? tell me what you want.”

You sighed and moaned, trying to hold on to the last bit of sanity you had, “fuck me Woo please, please I need you so badly right now I’ll do whatever you want just please get inside of me.”

He moved his head so he could see your face, dropping one of his hands down low so he could line up with your entrance, watching your face change as he guided the tip of his cock up and down your slit, hitting your clit each time, making you moan and groan as frustration started to build up. He grinned, “what’s the matter baby? can’t wait? that desperate to have me?”

You sighed as he bumped your clit again, “yes I don’t know how you aren’t! Please just get inside of me—” he finally pushed into you, cutting off your train of thought as he bottomed out inside of you. You hadn’t gotten the chanced to really look at how big he was, but from the stretch you could tell he was decently big, enough to make you drop your jaw and let your legs fall to either side of him. He locked eyes with you and flashed a wicked grin as he continued to push into you. You turned your head to the side, unable to hold the very intimate eye contact with him. Just as you felt him fully sheathe himself inside of you, he groaned and whispered into your ear, “if I had known you felt this good, I would have fucked with my order much sooner."

You had no idea how his brain wasn't as foggy as yours right now, the aphrodisiacs rendering you nothing more than a mumbling, moaning mess underneath him. Your hands against his back, dragging your nails down the expanse of it was your last ditch effort to try and stay on Earth.

He started to pound into you, strong arms caging you in on either side of your head. Eventually, one of his hands found its way down your body and to your clit, lightly rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

You moaned loudly at the added stimulation, not too far away from climax, Wooyoung picked up on that and kept the same pace, but leaned down towards your ear to continue whispering absolute filth to you.

"Come on pretty girl, I know it's right there just come for me."

"You're taking me so well, such a good girl."

Your orgasm hit you so quickly you didn't have time to register it even happening at first, hitting you so hard your back arched off the lounge, Wooyoung sealing your lips in a kiss as he continued to fuck you through it. After you came down, he pulled out,

"I'm not done with you, think you have the energy to get on top?"

You shook your head yes, and he flipped you two over, you now sitting right above his achingly hard cock, lining it up with your entrance and sinking down with a hiss. Wooyoung moaned loudly at the new position. You began to bounce your hips up and down, the lounge slightly creaking under you two. You sat up a bit so you could look at the man under you, an idea popping into your head immediately. You snaked your hand up to the column of his throat and gave a light squeeze at the sides, earning a gasp and another moan from Wooyoung.

You flashed a wicked grin at him now, "aw does that feel good? I had a feeling you would like that." You added a little more pressure to his neck and bounced with more vigor on his cock.

He looked up at you and whimpered, "yes, yes I fucking love it please don't stop." He gripped your hips tightly, likely bruising them in the process, encouraging you to keep at the pace you had set.

All that could be heard throughout your house were the sounds of creaking from the lounge you two were on, and combined moans from the both of you. You could tell that he was getting close from the way his whimpers got higher.

You released your hand from his neck, opting to pull at his hair lightly as you bent down to whisper in his ear, "come on pretty boy, I want you to come for me, give it to me."

He started to buck his hips up into you, rapidly chasing his high. Your second orgasm wasn't too far behind, you took your hand out of his hair and reached back down to rub your clit, trying to finish nearly at the same time as him. His moans grew so rapid and desperate, you knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

Your second climax came with a blurring vision and ringing in your ears, moaning so loudly as you came around him for the second time. Shivering and shaking as he pulled out of you and finished on your chest and stomach, moaning and groaning as he rode out his high.

You both sat there for a moment catching your breath, trying to register if the aphrodisiacs had finally worn off yet. You still had this buzzing feeling on your skin, groaning with frustration.

Wooyoung sat up on his elbows and looked up at you, "do you still feel it too?"

You huffed, "yes. I thought that would have fixed it."

He laughed as he flipped you two back over, "let me see if this will help."

He lifted your legs onto his shoulders as he got down onto his knees, face right in line with your still throbbing clit. He licked a long, painfully slow stripe up your slit, causing you to loll your head back and let out a low groan, already feeling close again.

Your hands found purchase in his hair, lightly tugging at it to encourage him to continue. He groaned at the sensation, sending vibrations through your body, giving you chills down your spine.

He continued to lick and suck at your clit, adding his fingers, curling them into you. You gripped tighter onto his hair, feeling like you could tip over the edge at any second.

Before you could get there, he stopped and sat up, earning a whine from you.

He took your legs off his shoulders, "get on your hands and knees, I want to be inside of you again."

You happily complied and flipped over, wiggling your ass a little at him, earning a slap on your cheeks. You let you another loud moan as he lined up and entered you with ease, beginning to fuck you into the lounge again.

The sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard throughout your house as he pounded into you, his hands gripping onto your hips to keep you from sliding down. Your orgasm from before already creeping up on you, Wooyoung decided to snake one of his hands up your back and into your hair, pulling you so your back was flush with his chest.

From this angle you could feel every inch of him, hitting that spot inside of you that was about to send you over the edge, he brought you closer by your hair and started to kiss and bite your neck, making you moan loudly. He chuckled as he let up on you, admiring his work of purples, blues, and a little bit of red that now adorned your neck. He moved up a little more to bite your ear, and that, combined with his thrusts and his grip on your hair, was enough to send you toppling over the edge again, making you nearly scream at the sensation. He left kisses along your cheek, jawline, and neck as you continued to ride your high.

"Think you can hang in there a little more? I'm so close baby." He loosened his grip on your hair, letting you fall forward onto your elbows.

"Yeah give it to me, come for me again, Woo." He moaned and picked his pace back up again, focusing on his orgasm as you laid there and took it.

He gave you a couple more hard thrusts before he was pulling out again, finishing on your back this time. You let your hips fall as he stood up, both of you taking in deep breaths.

You weakly stood up, now very aware of how sticky you felt. You huffed, "I think that finally did the fucking trick, I'm exhausted but I absolutely need a shower before I lay in my bed."

He laughed at the state of you, "yeah. Definitely. Sorry about that, let me help you." He guided you up your stairs and to your bathroom, keeping a hand on your waist as he turned your shower on, making sure the temperature was alright. He pulled back the shower curtain and allowed you to step in, following in behind you.

Once you both were cleaned off he turned the faucet off and guided you to your bedroom, helping you get dressed as you offered him something to wear.

You looked up at him as you crawled into bed, "you coming?"

He stared at you, "are you sure?"

You laughed, "of course I am! I'm not just going to let you go home after all of that!" He smiled as he crawled into bed, snuggling up behind you.

"Of course, I also want to make sure that the effects really, truly wore off, you know?''

You heard him chuckle behind you, "Oh yeah, of course."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

an; hehehe hope you guys like this one :D lmk what else you wanna see from me! also this was cross-posted onto my AO3 account

[cellsshapedlikestars]

do you plan out your stories in advanced or do you just start writing and hope for the best? I'm trying to get back into writing but I always end up completely deviating from any plan I made beforehand

My writing process is chaos, anon.

For a tl;dr: I just start writing and hope for the best

For a longer explanation of my process, see below the cut. Also, I feel dumb saying this, but spoilers for my own fics, especially the mysteries (which are better examples for plot planning than my romcoms)

1a) I get an idea, something super basic. Like, "time travel murder mystery" or "Sansa and Jon reluctant roommates". The idea then usually forms into a series of scenes or one particular scene in my head - for example: Sansa is dead, Jon goes to her funeral, later is questioned by police as a suspect, then time travel. Or, Sansa is already having a bad day and arrives at her brother's house only to find he's also letting his friend stay there and they were both unaware & kinda pissed about it, which starts them on the wrong foot as she threatens him with a knife.

1b) OR I watch a piece of media, go "wow they fumbled this great premise hard and I want to fix all the things I didn't like" and then I take the inciting incident and build my own story from there. (See: Doona. Business proposal is different, I actually liked the show, but Jon and Sansa did not fit the main leads' personalities so I had to change everything after the inciting incident. Plus I just find it more fun to come up with my own story than following the source material to a T)

2) this idea does not leave my brain, even if I want it to. I don't think you can force this step, tbh

3) I write a first chapter to get the idea/scene out of my head so I can get back to writing the story I'm already in the middle of. I post the chapter to exorcise it from my mind

4) this does not work

5) People in the comments are excited, which makes me excited! I obsessively think about it until I have a vague idea of how I want the story to go. Usually I have an end goal and some important story beats. Nothing is set in stone, and 99% of the time I don't even bother writing an outline, because I know I won't stick to it. The only "outlines" I make are just a string of ideas in the general order I want them to go in

6) I think of scenes I want, then work backwards to how to connect them

7) when I write a chapter, I know what I want the chapter end to be/the cliffhanger, and I write until I get there. Only once or twice have I had to cut chapters in two, but I try not to do this, even if the chapter ends up being pretty long.

8) sometimes you have to throw away ideas/scenes you thought were set in stone. Sometimes you start writing and those scenes Do Not Work anymore, and that's ok

For example, in mongrel heart, there was supposed to be this big, super dramatic showdown with Ramsay, like this big action movie scene. But when I got there, it felt totally wrong for the vibe of the story, so I went with a more intimate/personal final fight. The scene I had envisioned was totally gone. I had to add Oberyn kind of at the last minute, because I had come up with this elaborate world in the background, and needed to wrap that up.

For you on the run, I wrote the first chapter because "Sansa is kidnapped in a library" would not leave my head. I then posted it and had to scramble to come up with a plot. I knew the why, I knew I wanted it to be for Sansa's own safety, but WHO is out for her? I honestly don't think I decided for certain until she's back in winterfell.

In help me out of the shape I'm in, the bad guy was going to be ol' Bobby B, until I started writing chapter 4 when it switched to Joffrey because I had started fleshing out that case more and liked the horror of it being someone Sansa had "dated" more

Anyway, the gist is, I write as I go, and I go where the story takes me as I write. I'll be completely honest and say that a lot of the time, the excitement in the comments makes me excited to write and fuels my creativity. (this can backfire though. The few bitchy/negative comments on trojan horse kinda ruined the momentum for me on that one, which is why I'm not as actively writing it, despite REALLY liking it and thinking those comments were kinda dumb/narrow minded. And I'm not even talking about the rando anon who seems to have made it their mission to be negative on multiple jonsa fics, those people I don't even take into account. It was the ones from people who CANNOT escape a POV trap and make me so frustrated that I don't want to write anymore lol. I feel like how grrm must feel in these moments). But yes, the basic gist is: chaos and my obsessive brain that needs a creative outlet

I know this method isn't for everyone. I know there are authors out there who write an outline before they ever write a sentence, and they post their first chapter with the chapter count already out, bold and confident in their outline. This is not me. I could never aspire to this level of control

Anon, I hope you keep trying! Write those stories! Be creative! Remember the number one rule of fic: it's FUN, so have fun and write what YOU would want to read!

[areiton]

Current Fic Ideas:

Here's my current fic ideas--all of these are up for grabs to whoever wins my @marveltrumpshate auction. (Gonna do these in a few reblogs)

Fic Idea:

Steve and tony are outted by the press 6 months into a healthy happy relationship and it takes less than 2 months for them to fall apart due to the pressure and scrutiny. How they find their way back and manage leading the Avengers is a bit messier and takes longer.

Fic Idea:

Bucky has a one night stand before he goes to war. He goes missing in action and months later, Steve is sent his personal belongings. Including letters from an omega he's never heard of, named Tony, sending pictures of a pretty baby. Bucky's baby.

Steve finds Tony--if for no other reason, than to tell him about Bucky and to meet what amounts to his nephew. But he realizes how broke Tony is, alone and disowned and trying to finish school. Maybe Tony didnt mean much to Bucky--no one ever did--but he smells like home and safety, like everything Steve didn't know he wanted. And Peter fits, in his arms, a way nothing ever has. It's easy, to welcome them into his home, to help them. It's even easier to fall in love.

And then--Bucky comes home, and finds the pretty omega he barely remembers in his brother's clothes and home, and holding a baby.

Fic Idea:

Howard finds Steve in the early seventies. He marries Peggy but she's killed and he's left lost and angry and without any real purpose. Until Howard calls and asks for a favor. His son has been getting in trouble and could use a bodyguard.

Fic Idea:

After Endgame, Steve and Tony are together and life is good but there's the small matter of the cults that have sprung up worshiping them. Because Steve wielded the power of a god and Tony wielded the Gauntlet. And people are trying to process that so cults.

Fic Idea:

Today I'm thinking about that fic I started, in which Tony is an Omega in need of an Alpha chaperone at MIT and Rhodey takes the job. And then, when Howard & Maria die, Bonds with Tony so he can inherit SI and not be forced to Bond with Obie.

So for twenty odd years, it's very common knowledge that Tony Stark is Bonded to his college 'sweetheart' Rhodey, and then--Steve shows up and Tony falls head over heels for him and that's 100% mutual but TONY HAS AN ALPHA OH NOS!

And Tony can't figure out why Steve who is OBVIOUSLY into him won't make a move, even when he's in heat and throwing himself at Steve, until Steve explains, a little confused and a lot conflicted, that he's not gonna steal another Alpha's omega, and James deserves better.

And that's when Tony calls Rhodey from the other room and says, hey baby, do you mind if I break our Bond to get with Steve and he's like, FUCKING FINALLY, DUDE! And Steve finds out that it was only ever a platonic Bond because Rhodey would literally do anything for his bestie.

Fic Idea:

The PR agent responsible for Steve getting a Twitter is also responsible for every time he gets fighty online, which happens every time Tony is insulted. Tony is DELIGHTED he isn't PR's problem child anymore.

Fic Idea:

Tony watches WWII unfolding and knows that something is necessary to help win, so he sends a piece of himself to earth--the Tesseract. And when that's not enough, he falls, giving up his place with the stars, to help humanity.

And then he meets Steve, and uses his fading power--he's dying but he's not going to tell any of them that--to power Project Rebirth. I think probably too he's part of why Steve survives the ice, but I need to work on that.

Fic Idea:

Dragon rider SteveTony AU.

They're from different clans. But they're forced together because of blah blah reasons (oh maybe the dragons are mating?) And Tony loathes Steve who is a big damn hero his father won't shut up about. And maybe he's projecting a little--

He wasn't supposed to Bond with a dragon, he isn't supposed to even be here--but he's never going to live up to Cap's expectations, not the guy who rewrote the rules on dragon bonds and single handily turned the course of the war.

Steve meanwhile cant get a single word out because gosh Tony is pretty and smart and when he rides his dragon--🤯

Their dragons would Very Much Appreciate if the idiot humans would get their shit together.

Fic Idea:

Steve never had a soulmate. Never had a mark. But one night in late may, he wakes up to a burning on his arm and his name in almost illegible scrawl. Howard calls and tells him about the birth of his son the next day.

He goes to see the baby a week later and holds Tony and he can see it, his words too large on Tony's little chest, but he murmurs them anyway. It's terrifying and everything he wanted and Tony is a BABY so he puts the kid down and swears to himself to keep his distance.

But he has a half formed bond with Tony and he doesn't always stay away and then when Tony is two--he's brilliant but talks late--he says 'steeb' at a Christmas party. It's his first word and it completes the bond. Tony grows up with it. He never realizes that they're soulmates.

Because he was so tiny when they bonded and it's all he's ever known and Steve is convinced he can't be with Tony and Tony--wants nothing to do with the nameless faceless person responsible for his words, he just wants Steve.

Fic Idea:

Steve is a successful happy security contractor. He's kinda slutty but that's ok, he's not hurting anyone and he's always honest. And then one day he gets an email that he's pretty sure isnt for him but intrigues him anyway.

Tony is miserable. His company is on the verge of collapse, he hasn't talked to his best friends in years, and his husband is a distant asshole--and those are the good days. He emails a private investigator and somehow ends up contacting a security contractor instead.

isn't a working number, hell it doesn't even have enough numbers--they keep talking. And Steve maybe stops sleeping around because Tony, Tony is fascinating. Tony smiles more, even if sneaking around is dangerous.

And there are things that are…off. little bits of conversation that is just a little bit wrong. Not enough to concern them. Eventually they decide to meet, Tony's husband be damned. But when they go to the coffee shop they agree on--there's no one waiting.

And through the argument and hurt,they finally peace it together. They're in parallel universes.

More THOUGHTS: ok but when they realize this it spooks them both and they kinda retreat from each other. But. They both look, in their worlds. Tony find a Steve Rogers but he died as a little boy. He didn't have a best friend to protect and help him. Steve find Tony too.

He was killed by a buisness rival a few weeks after his father's death. Vanko is still in prison for it, but--Tony is still dead. It terrifies him, losing that Tony without ever knowing him, and it drives him back to his Tony, desperate to know he's safe.

It's heartbreaking because they're so close to each other, but they're universes apart, too, and Tony can't tolerate that. Won't. He's a genius, even if Ty's abuse broke him and made him small, and he's willing to try, if it means making his way to Steve.

[thedeadlycod]

so, I was digging for fanfics and came across a redit/ quora where someone mentioned a betrayed Percy story that I imminently dug to find. and I can't find it. they only mentioned it briefly but what they said was Percy was cursed by the Ari and everyone forgot about him then he makes a life in the mortal world until Grover finds him via empathy link.

I'd also be happy with some good percy is cursed by the ari fics and recovery/ trauma post tartarus fics

I think that's the fic you were looking for.

since the fall (nobody seems to know my name) by Chill_with_Penguins

Words: 13,283

Pairing: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson

Completed: yes

The thing is that is had all gone so suddenly and spectacularly wrong that Percy had never seen it coming.

(In which everything goes wrong, Adulting is stressful, and Percy has no clue how he's supposed to raise Estelle with a ton of help, much less when everyone has literally forgotten he exists.)

When it comes to some post tartarus stories these are great

the perseid by liminal

Words: 8,378

Pairing: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson

Completed: yes

"let me love the world like a mother let me be tender when it lets me down" maggie smith - rain, new year's eve

the world and the gods through percy's eyes, after tartarus but he's still going through hell

Behind these sea-green eyes by stuckInaDitch

Words: 1,798

Pairing: gen

Completed: yes

This is one of those things you observe about a person and never mention it to him. She knows very well That she's treading dangerous waters, and she knows the dismissal was her queue to drop it, but she's watched everything he's ever wanted slip out of his grip too many times from the sidelines.

Of Divine Moves by Valorem

Words: 2,244

Pairing: gen

Completed: yes

Percy smiles softly looking down into the water, Jason is for a moment certain he’d seen some Merepeople. “Triton is celebrating my return.” He says like it’s a very common thing for Gods to celebrate the lives of Demigods, “This is his domain,” He grins, “My brother really pulled out all the stops for this.”

or

There is something significantly different about Percy now that he's returned from Tartarus. Jason can't quite put his finger on what.

I am not what I expected (The poison just didn't take) by dcninja

Words: 29,524 

Pairing: gen

Completed: yes

After the War against Gaea, Percy finds himself struggling in the life he worked so hard to get back to. The more he tries to fit back in, pushing down his powers and emotions after the war, the more things seem to fall apart. As Olympus prepares to officially reopen at the Winter Solstice, Hermes takes notice that something is off with the Savior of Olympus. But when he asked for help from Hades, none of them could imagine what Percy’s trip to the Pit led to and what it will mean for the hero.

Or Percy finally reckons with the consequences of challenging Akhlys with a little help from his immortal family, who he might be around for a lot longer than he thought.

[sholiofic]

I've read a couple presumed-dead fics where Biggles is the presumed party, but I don't think I've seen one with the reverse dynamic of Biggles thinking EvS dead and coping (or rather, not as the case may be) until the sudden revelation/reunion- which seems like something that would fit your writerly wheelhouse

In my wheelhouse indeed. :D For a longer take on this idea, I also know of a couple of Sakhalin presumed dead AUs:

A Desperate Execution by Philomytha

But At What Price by me

...but there is absolutely NO bad time to write presumed dead.

--

The item came across Biggles's desk in a stack of other reports and files. It was his habit to come into the office early and read the stack of post, analysts' reports, and other items flagged for his attention over a cup of tea before the others got there. When Algy came in, however, it was to find him staring into space, the dregs of his tea going cold at his elbow.

"Something wrong?" Algy asked, taking his jacket off. Then, getting a better look at his cousin's face, he amended it with more concern. "Bad news?"

"What? Oh—no, nothing, I ..." Biggles jerked a little, as if coming back to himself. "A piece of international news that caught me by surprise, that's all." He shuffled the papers he had been looking at into a stack.

"Anything the rest of us should be worried about?"

"No—no, just ... a surprise," Biggles repeated, and as Algy continued to look at him with concern, Biggles hastily opened another file, almost at random.

He continued to be distracted all morning, occasionally missing the others' comments, staring uncomprehendingly rather than laughing at jokes. After a while, Algy went and sat on the edge of Biggles's desk, eyeing his oldest friend and disliking the pallor he saw, a drawn look that made him think uncomfortably of Biggles in wartime. "If you're feeling under the weather, go home. We have things in hand here."

"I'm perfectly well," Biggles said with a surliness that suggested to Algy he wasn't.

"Right," Algy said, hopping off the desk only to take Biggles by the elbow. "Time for lunch. Hold down the fort, lads."

"Wait a minute, we're hungry too!" Ginger protested.

"Get a takeaway then!" Algy said over his shoulder.

In the hallway, Biggles drew himself up stiffly, adjusted his jacket, and said, "You're behaving very strangely."

"I'm behaving strangely? You're either about to go down with a bout of malaria or you've just heard someone died -- oh God," Algy said in a very different tone, as Biggles looked away. "It is that, isn't it?"

He didn't say anything else, but he steered Biggles, not towards the main entrance, but down the back stair that led to a small courtyard with benches. A few people were having their lunches there. Algy walked to the end and sat Biggles on a bench.

"Now look," he said, sitting beside him. "If it's anyone I know, I won't thank you to stay quiet about it. I suppose it's something awful from the way you're acting—it's not old Wilks, is it?"

"No, you've the wrong idea entirely. I knew you'd—oh well, why not." Biggles sighed and reached into his pocket, and pulled out the sheet of typewritten paper he had been reading earlier. Algy hadn't even noticed him tucking it into his pocket, folded and folded again. Algy took it and opened it, noting as he did the softness of the folds that suggested it had already been opened and refolded more than once.

It was an analyst's report; he had become familiar with the dry tone of collated reports distilled from firsthand sources. This was a brief summary about mercenary operations in the North African desert involving cargo aircraft ... an Algerian police action leaving six dead ... the names of the deceased ...

"Ah," Algy said. He laid the paper down on his knee, unsure what to say.

"It shouldn't really be as much of a surprise as all that," Biggles said quietly. "I always knew—well, that I'd see that name on this sort of list someday. I simply felt that ..." He stopped abruptly, looked off into the distance for a minute, and then said, "He was capable of better things. That's all."

Algy rather doubted that, but sensed that now was not the time to say it. "Look," he said, handing back the paper. "D'you suppose there's a—a next of kin, or something?"

Biggles folded up the page with an odd sort of care, handling it gently as if the typewritten sheet of bond meant something to him. "I suppose there must be," he said, looking a little more focused and less pale and unhappy with something to do, as Algy had known he would. "Unless all his people were lost in the war—but no, there must be someone. And they might like to hear from someone who knew him. I'll ask Major Charles about it, that's a good idea, Algy."

Lunch was a bit funereal all the same, and Algy found himself lifting a glass in a toast. "I won't pretend that I liked him," he said. "But a lonely grave in the desert's a hard end, and—and I'm sorry for it." He was a little surprised to find that he meant it, and Biggles smiled a little, the first smile all morning, and clinked glasses.

They ordered takeaway sandwiches for the others and returned to the office. As they came in, Ginger called, "A fellow from the Air Commodore's office was in and left you something, Biggles. Eyes only. Do we have a case or not?"

Biggles strode over to his desk, one hand in his pocket. He swiped up the folded slip from his desktop, opened it, and read it. Algy was close enough to see the swift flash of delight that crossed his face, all the animation that had been absent for the entire morning returning in a rush.

"Oh, it's nothing much," he said casually, and tucked it in his pocket beside the other.

Algy took the opportunity later that afternoon to slip off to the coat room during a quick trip to the loo, and was very much unsurprised by the contents of the slip.

Earlier report from Algiers in error. Five casualties, not six.

Algy replaced it carefully; he supposed it was likely to end up into some box of souvenirs in Biggles' room. So, he thought, not the end of an era after all. But after seeing Biggles that morning—quiet and dull, as if the best part of his bright energy had gone out of him—Algy discovered that he couldn't find it in himself to be too upset about it.

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Ficfinder finds: The Neon Void

Chapter 1: Mandarin Oranges

Rottmnt Fanfic Summary: Five years. It's been five years. Hamato Leonardo was b͕̱ͮ̉͐͊ác͎̯̯̈͗͐͑ͯ͑̚k̦ But he was no longer who he once was.

Mandarin Oranges: Appraisal and Ratings

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

Disclaimer: This fanfic is completed, and is written by @sugarpasteltmnt, so go show them some love and kindness!

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

Plot: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Plot is four out of five!! This first chapter starts right off by dropping a hint of a plot ripe for the discovery!"

Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Suspense/Mystery is two out of five!! Chapter one has an interesting element of mystery, and that good ol' suspense at the end of the chapter due to it being a cliffhanger."

Angst/Hurt: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Angst/Hurt is one out of five!! The angst is not as prevalent in this chapter, beside in the very beginning where deep hurt is expressed."

Fluff/Comfort: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is three out of five!! The way the brother interact with each other is very wholesome in a sad sort of way."

Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is two out of five!! This chapter really compelled a sense of interest within me. While the chapter itself didn't influence my emotions very heavily, I was quite curious as to what was going on."

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Drama/Tension Level is two out of five!! The drama level is fairly moderate, though very enjoyable to read!! The drama itself is for sure family drama lol, which is always the best drama."

Triggers: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Triggers are one out of five!! Chapter one of The Neon Void has minimal triggers to worry about. The only bit to keep an eye out for, would be the beginning of the chapter where some powerful emotions of grief are written."

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Reading) is five out of five!! Man, the way this chapter was written is so interesting and wonderful!! The unique characters (letters and symbols) really make it fun to read!! Like a treat for the eyes!!"

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Legibility (Audio) is four out of five! While chapter one does use some special characters in the writing, this chapter is able to be listened to audio book style."

Length: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Length is two out of five!! This chapter runs on the shorter side, taking about 14-15 minutes to listen to."

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

Next Chapter ->

The Neon Void: Ratings and Chapter List

Personal thoughts on chapter below cut (Contains Spoilers)

To start off, I'd like to talk about the chapter name. Mandarin Oranges. Mandarin oranges are symbolic for good fortune, happiness, and wealth, so it would make sense that Splinter would want them for the Shrine, especially since giving mandarin oranges to others is originally a Japanese custom.

In regards to how it fits as a chapter name, it could just be that the boys going and buying mandarin oranges led to them seeing the happenings at the Nexus Hotel. It could also be more symbolic than that. The oranges are supposed to bring good fortune. Seeing the Nexus Hotel get attacked was actually in their favor, especially with who attacked it. Anyways, moving on before I spoil something XD.

I absolutely adore the designs the boys have in this fic!! Different, yet similar to what I've seen before.

I literally can't get over how much I love the atheistic design of how scenes are separated!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I mean, look at that!! It looks like chains!! Very cool in my opinion.

The novelty treat fell to the ground as Raph rushed to shield his brothers. It had been sheer instinct. A muscle memory carved into his very bones. The loud sound of something exploding had him grabbing his brothers and holding them close faster than the ice cream bar could hit the sidewalk.

While reading this bit, I was distinctly reminded of the many times in rise where Raph easily scoops up all three of his brothers to carry them around, hold them, and hug them. How easily he can fit all three in his arms. Then I realized he's only holding two brothers, and my heart hurt.

[thrandilf]

9, the devil you thought you knew

9. Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Usually there weren't alternate versions as much as I discovered new places I wanted to go/new developments within the journey. I've known what the ending couple of chapters will be for about a year now (likely chapters 40-42) but the route there keeps expanding

I hadn’t known that I'd want Viravos to actually get married but they are and it'll matter for more than just shipper reasons, for instance

When I first started writing rather soon after S4 I hadn't been a Sorvus shipper so that was a pleasant surprise, most stuff is like that where I grow into the idea that fits alongside the trajectory I've always had. Including some Ezran POV snd Rayla POV chapters and the Pentarchy were also things I really loved writing but hadn't known I would do at the start and I'm glad I have

I also have been on the fence about how much I wanted human mages to progress with learning magic, but I think it's clear now that I'm angling for them to be able to connect to an arcanum without using dark magic first, and I've spent a lot of time in fic establishing that through Aaravos, Callum, and Viren being teachers to my Eveneran mage circle. I suppose I worried for awhile if it would seem too OP or like Mary-Sueish to let myself have non canon characters connect, but I think that showing the effort has been rewarding and that I can earn that world state bit. Villads is also connected to the Sky in my fic but with a dormant connection so there's that as well for precedent

The biggest thing is yet to come, and it's what I'm going to do with Sol Regem. I've considered every option for what feels ic to resolve his stuff with and how to try and make it realistic but not like, horrific, and so I'm satisfied but it bothered me for months (probably like, chapter 38 or 39 we'll see).

So there haven't been total AU versions but I've weighed a lot of it in my mind and come into things. I've had a few major plotting sessions- one around chapter 10 when I realized I didn't want to leave off with Callum going with Aaravos and mage fam, and then another around chapter 20, and before Evenere was fleshed out I had anticipated ending in the 30s but I decided to stay ambitious and let myself spend time there, so the ending has always been there but the journey there has been pushed further and further by chunks of about 10 chapters at a time plotted in detail, always knowing what's coming after

And at this time I do have every chapter mostly mapped to the end, though knowing me it'll be a bit longer than I anticipate

Sometimes I wish I had made Viren get Star rather than Ocean, but hitting the wrong mage with the right arcanum is still funny to me and I think for how my fic has gone it works

I also wish things had been paced a bit differently as sometimes I feel I'm too fast or too slow, but alas, that's what writing a serial is like

Thank you so much for the ask! 💜

[koyue]

Finished uploading all the chapters of Fragments! Normally I struggle with endings, but the ending was actually the first thing I wrote and I really love how it turned out, so if you'd like, please check it out ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

Random trivia for this fic (with spoilers for Jujutsu Kaisen and the fic itself) and personal ramblings are all under the cut (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

—

I've been wanting to write a SatoSugu fic for a long time and it was really the ending of JJK that made me start writing it. I actually liked the final chapter because I love that Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji just got a breather with a silly little case, but I was definitely unsatisfied with a lot of the lead-up and I didn't like how we didn't get any proper closure on Gojo (Plus, isn't the world of JJK a lot worse off now? And nobody really talked about it? And Sukuna had some sort of backstory that never became relevant until the last three pages? Plus Yuji found out the truth of his parents offscreen?? Huh???)

So I wrote this to cheer myself up ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

—

I had fifteen chapters written out before I posted it because originally, I'd done the outline for twenty chapters. Then stuff happened and it somehow ended up being thirty five chapters long. I couldn't decide whose POV I wanted it to be from, so I settled on switching between Gojo's and Geto's POV

—

I loved Riko's character from the get-go and, even though I knew it was going to happen, I was heartbroken when she was killed. So I had to include her in and give her the happy ending she deserved. I like to think she would've been good friends with everyone at Jujutsu High had she lived. I also gave her a water-based cursed technique because a lot of her happier times in JJK seem to revolve around the water (the beach, the aquarium, the river)

—

Somehow this fic turned into a little personal contest to see how many of my favorite characters from JJK I could include. I just wish I could've expanded on Yuki's character since I really liked her too, but I just couldn't figure out how

—

Shoko was supposed to appear at some point, but by then, the story had gone in a whole different direction than what I had drafted, so I had to cut her scenes out because they no longer made sense

—

I made Gojo and Geto childhood best friends just because I love that trope so much. I love the idea of them being reincarnated in a peaceful world where they got to grow up with each other. I'd like to write a oneshot one day set in this universe where they're kids getting into trouble

—

God, I struggled with chapters 29 and 30 and rewrote them several times. Everything sounded a little OOC because there's a lot of emotional vulnerability and neither Gojo nor Geto (especially Gojo) seem like the sort of people who would allow themselves to be that vulnerable with another person, but eventually I came up with something I liked. Plus hey, maybe they're a little more emotionally intelligent in this world ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

—

I like writing dream scenes. They show up in a lot of the fics I've written and there are a ton in this one. They're not prophetic dreams, but mainly manifestations of the character's fears coupled with past and present memories

—

I'd always planned to include original characters since it's a reincarnation AU, but I didn't plan for Satoko (Gojo's grandmother in this fic) to have such a big role. I made up a whole story of what happened to her during her first life as a member of the Gojo clan, but it was too much and just didn't fit with the rest of the fic, so I had to cut it out. I really wish we could've learned a little more about the previous Six Eyes users in canon (actually, I wish we could've learned a little more about everyone in canon, particularly their families)

—

I wrote most of chapter 31 while listening to the Digimon: The Movie soundtrack (yes, that "so bad it's good" pastiche of three different movies that came out in North America). I'm a Digimon fan myself, so I had to include a few references in the fic

—

The final chapter is my favorite. The idea of the trio somehow seeing Gojo's ghost when they visit his grave is hilarious to me. I also wrote it while listening to "Ao no Sumika/ The First Take" because it's just perfect

[yesimwriting]

I support you in the tate interest bc I'm right there with you

Has he done crimes? Ya sure but look at him he's cute!

And I'm intrigued with your modern day fic idea if you wanna share 👀

a/n i love you for indulging me <3

also i will be the first to admit that i don't think i ever fully got what AHS apocolypse did to murder house?? like the time travel and new timeline? ig there's no more murder house??

idk i didn't love it so i'm leaving it out partially out of preference and partially out of being a little confused lol,, and i honestly don't want to get into all of that!!

and there's time in between the end of AHS murder house and AHS apocalypse so you can also imagine this is somewhere in there, where season 1 trauma is less fresh to all the characters but not season 8...if that makes sense??

anyways this made me so excited i decided to use this as my homework study break instead of the fic i was working on earlier

----

"And maggots crawl up their nose and eat their brains."

And just like that, I no longer have the luxury of letting whatever Kayla's into these days be just background noise. "Wait a minute..." She looks up from the large book laying in front of her, raising an eyebrow like she had been talking about something any seven-year-old girl could be into. Like brain eating maggots are no different than Barbies or baby dolls. "Maggots?"

"Mhm," she nods, sitting up a little straighter, "It's in my new book, I checked it out at the library."

Kayla lifts one end, giving me a way to check out the cover. 500 Weird Ways to Go. Ugh. Can't blame her, I blame the person raising her. I look away from the dining room table and glare at my mom who's searching through the boxes that have lived on the kitchen counter since we first walked in about a week ago.

"What?" My mom doesn't even have to look up to sense my disappointment. "It's educational, and you were into some weird stuff, too when you were seven." She pushes aside the box she's looking through in favor of the one next to it. "...Used to tell me how much bacteria a single roach could carry."

I set down my pencil. "Doesn't matter--Kayla's been having nightmares." The trig homework was frustrating before and I can't tell if this is worse. "It's not appropriate." She walks away from the boxes, giving me a chance to see the low cut, silky tank she's wearing. "And neither is that top if that's what you're wearing for the PTA meeting."

"Lighten up, sweetheart." I don't. She sighs, nails tapping against the counter. "Y'know you used to be fun."

"Yeah, well," I stand, picking up my school supplies, awkwardly forcing them all into my arms, "That was before some crazy lady forced me to move halfway across the country to live in some house that we shouldn't even be able to afford."

Her glossy lips fall apart in mock surprise, "I'm not crazy." She shakes her head once, "And I've told you...the financial stuff just worked, okay...so just relax and be a kid for once. Worry about decorating your room, or-or making friends, or throwing a rager and making me hate you."

I am so not in the mood for the you worry too much speech. "Lot of ways for me to make you hate me." Before she can respond, I reach over and steal the mug of coffee she had been drinking from. "Just saying."

I walk out of the kitchen, mug and school supplies all awkwardly balancing in my arms until I'm in what's supposed to be my room.

There's nothing wrong with the space. Actually, in another situation, I'm sure I could have really loved this space. The room has dark blue walls and wood arches that make it feel unique. It also came pre-furnished and everything feels like it fits. But none of it feels mine.

Maybe it's just the lack of unpacking...the boxes of posters and personal items pouring over the dresser and onto the floor...the suit case I'm still living out of. Or maybe the good qualities of the room are the issue. It's put together so perfectly I feel like I'm what's wrong with it. Like I'm intruding--a guest in someone else's room...someone else's house...someone else's life.

Sometimes when I can't sleep I imagine what it might've been. Some nights it even slips into my dreams. The story rarely stays the same...sometimes it's a teenage girl who wanted to be here even less than I do...other times I picture a little kid who grew up here...and sometimes I even think of this as some boy's room that relies on rock music and doesn't get along with his mom.

None of that matters, I guess. It's my room, obviously, and imagining who might have lived here before won't help me with my homework. I squeeze my eyes shut, rubbing my temple before turning my attention back to the real villain. Trigonometry.

I breeze through most of the questions as much as anyone can breeze through trigo until I'm on the last one. I'm stuck. I work on it again and again and it keeps being wrong.

I sigh, grabbing a pillow and using it to muffle my groan of frustration. How many times can I do what I'm supposed to do and still get it wrong? I pick up my eraser, knowing what I should do. I should just start over. Instead of dragging it across the page I throw it across the room.

Instead of smacking into the door and falling to the ground, the door pushes back. I sit up quicker than I thought possible.

"Warm welcome." The sarcasm comes from the stranger lingering way too comfortably in my doorway. His dark eyes scan the room before landing on me. He takes in my appearance openly, which I'm not used to, so I instinctually do the same. He seems like he's average height with blonde hair that's long enough to shag slightly and he's wearing an oversized sweater. "Cool room, by the way."

"Uh..." He's definitely lying, because all I've fully unpacked are a couple of books, a few pictures, my record player, and a single movie poster. "Thanks."

I'm not stupid. I know home intruders can be anyone, even cute boys that look like they're around your age and act casual enough to gaslight you into feeling like you're the weird one for not inviting them in. But if that's the goal, he's really good at it. I feel awkward and like I should be doing something to compensate.

"Sorry about the eraser." The words feel flat, almost shy. "That wasn't--wasn't about you--" Like I wouldn't have been well within my rights to throw something at someone who may or may not be breaking into my house. "That was...trig."

He nods once and I can't tell if it feels indifferent. I'm not sure why it matters. The stranger steps further into my room, his attention briefly focusing on the framed photo of a younger me and one of my best friends from back home. He's closer than a stranger should be now, close enough to lean over and look at my homework, which he does.

"Uh..." I sit up even straighter, a part of me wanting to grab my notebook and shield it even though that's irrational. There isn't anything he can get from it. "Who are you?"

The stranger holds my stare for a beat before answering, "I'm Tate." I nod, even though that does nothing for me. "I live around here."

Okay--that makes a lot of sense. I wouldn't be surprised if my mom ran into him on her way out and waved him down and told him to just let himself in and find her oldest daughter. Maybe this is an ambush attempt at getting me to make friends.

"Oh," I mumble like that explains everything, "Did my mom stop you?" The assumption feels like it could make me seem weird. I don't know why I feel like I'm the one that needs to come off as casual when he's the one that has less of a right to be here. "She invites people in sometimes, especially when she's new to a place." I scratch my knee to have something to physically do. "She never thinks anyone could be a murderer."

Oh my god?! Did I just accuse the only attractive guy I've met here of being a murderer? "Not that I think you're a murderer." I fight the urge to physically cringe. "--I um--I've been doing math for way longer than physically tolerable so my head's kinda mush right now."

"Explains why you divided wrong." Before I can ask what he's talking about, Tate places his finger against the bottom of the page. I look at what he's pointing at, some throwaway basic math...that I messed up. That's why it wasn't working.

"Oh?" I pick up my pencil and cross out my mistake so that I remember where to start over. "You totally saved my life." I rewrite the numbers so that I can actually solve the problem. "I'm Y/n, by the way."

Only halfway done with my math problem, I look up. He didn't ask for my name, which doesn't matter. Maybe he feels less comfortable in a stranger's room than he seems or maybe I've weirded him out and he has no intentions of speaking to me again. Not knowing is making my skin feel like it's crawling. It doesn't make sense for me to care.

I want him to like me. The realization burrows itself deep into my chest. It's an uncomfortable feeling, making it hard to just sit there and stare.

I've never considered myself someone that needs validation from guys, but this doesn't feel quite like that. School hasn't seemed too promising and every day I talk to my friends from home or I see their posts online and realize that they still have everything I did. I'm not mad about it or surprised--the world doesn't and shouldn't stop and start with me--but it hurts to suddenly have no one. And even though I know nothing about him, Tate's the first remotely cool seeming person I've met.

He waits a beat, eyes focused on a point that feels just past my head. I don't know why, but something about the silence feels pivotal. Tate then dips his chin downwards, a nod of acknowledgement. "Cool."

Tate takes a partial step forward, body angling itself towards the nightstand that I've been using for my record player. "This work?"

"Yeah," I turn myself so that I can watch him, "I know everything's online, but I like having physical copies." My nails press into my knee.

Tate reaches forward to mess with the volume dial. "What kind of music do you have?"

"A little of everything," I force my hand to relax, "But most of my vinyls are still being shipped."

His eyes briefly flit in my direction, "Got anything worth listening to?"

"Uh..." Is he implying that he's staying? Do I want him to? I'm lonely and kind of desperate for friends, but I should probably at least try to be a little suspicious. "We can listen to whatever you want on my..." I move a pillow and straighten my comforter in search of my, "Phone."

After a second of searching, I find it under my textbook.

"Anything?"

I unlock my phone, "Yeah, your pick, I owe you for the math thing."

Tate shrugs, "I just wanted to make sure you'd stop at the eraser, y'know, as a friend."

He gestures towards the door in a way that almost feels teasing. I can barely register the fact that he's kind of making fun of me because my mind's stuck on the last word. "We're friends?"

"You wanna be?"

The bluntness of the question surprises me more than it should. He's yet to feel particularly invested in social norms. "...Yeah." I scratch at the back of my wrist awkwardly. "That'd--that'd be cool."

Tate's head turns his head away for a second. He takes a step forward before sitting at the edge of my bed. The proximity nearly makes me jump out of my skin. I redirect my nervous energy into grabbing my homework and moving it to the other side of the bed. "You got any Kurt Cobain on there?"

----

a/n i accidentally developed the background way too much for something idek if i'm going to touch on again but i spent all day doing hw and deserved to give into a harmless impulse

might have to make a part 2/mini series bc what did i do all that for 😭 i lowkey wanted to add violet and reader friendship to add some angst so maybe that? idk

[yaqamole]

as someone new to your blog could you go into your racebent romano? thank you! could you go into how you write the character? how it effects him? what brought you to that interpretation of him? i am very curious /gen

Of course!

So the reasons that I ultimately decided to make Romano as a mixed man have to do with me disliking the way that Hima stated Romano was mixed race only to then claim it was his "Arab blood" that makes him so mean and violent. That's just....yikes. For so many reasons. I'm really surprised the fandom doesn't talk about that more.

But I suppose that would mean people admitting Hima is not great and people lose their minds over that. But ANYWAY

The other reasons that I ended up making him mixed-race is because I write him to be in touch with the Arab influence in Southern Italy anyway and it fit. As well as me also being a person of color, I wanted to see a little bit of myself in his character even if I am Latino and not European haha.

But for some more details.

As far as Nationverse goes, I headcanon Romano and Veneziano to have different mothers. While Veneziano's mother was Ancient Greece, Romano's mother was Phoenecia. When in humanverse, Romano's mother is Lebanese (I believe in one of my fics I made her Tunisian but that is scrapped for everything else humanverse) or Syrian. Feliciano's mother is Greek.

Overall, his mixed-race identity has greatly affected him over the years. It's led to a lot strife due to colorism and racism, has bothered him in Europe, and was a great factor in the way he treated during Risorgimento.

He was greatly impacted by the idea that his Arab heritage made him more violent, more barbaric, and unable to be a fit leader for his people. This especially had a big impact on how he was dealt with during Unification. Often times he was dismissed or treated like he was incapable of changing into someone that could be a good leader.

The other thing it historically impacted him with is that it caused him to be viewed as an outsider to his own home. Even though he has always been there and has a deep history with the land, the fact that he looks different and comes from a nonwhite mother caused a lot of poor treatment for him.

For a long time, he tried to make himself more European and erase the racial/ethnic background he comes from. So a lot of his early portraits and such lighten his skin and make his hair look a lot more loose or wavy compared to the curls he has now. He stopped doing this around the time of Risorgimento as he didn't want to feel ashamed of who he was any longer.

I think it's a complicated thing for him. He doesn't feel shame anymore and he takes a lot of pride in the fact that he is a testament to his people's history, but he would be lying if he said he didn't sometimes wish he and Feliciano came from the same mother. Oftentimes, he struggles with feeling like he'll never quite reach the place he wants to be in life. He worries he'll never be seen as fit to represent his people and he worries he might have done all this fighting in Risorgimento for nothing.

With modern attitudes towards Arab immigrants in Italy, he especially is hesitant to talk about how he feels with people. The last thing that he wants is to give his government yet another reason to limit the impact he has on things in Italy and how it's governed.

He definitely struggles a lot with either being seen as an outsider or being seen as someone who can't fully understand the needs of his people. Though he works hard with everything going on, the impact of ideas such as The Southern Question (the 19th century idea that the South of Italy was backward and unable to be reformed) still limit him. HIstory has taken its toll on him and he definitely has a lot of feelings about that.

Overall, he doesn't feel shame but he does feel frustration at the idea that he might never be seen as capable enough to govern his people simply because of who his mother is/the color of his skin. It's something he is passionate about and he definitely puts up a lot of fights in the current day about it, refusing to be fully silenced by his government. But in the end, there are still a lot of things that are restricted for him because of this.

He's a fighter until the end. He always has been. Even when he knows he might lose, he has always fought and he continues to do so. No matter what the attitude is towards him, he will always be firm about knowing he deserves more. No matter how Europe has treated him, he perseveres. He's a resilient character and that is such a core aspect to the way I write him.

Until his last breath, he will fight to prove everyone that has looked down on him wrong.

[snek-panini]

At long last, I've finally finished a new book! And it's actually not a fanfic this time! This is a bind of Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days. This was supposed to be my fourth book for Binderary, but I didn't finish it in time. Procrastination's a bitch. Fun fact: the first thing I ever bound was a public domain short story called The Machine Stops, but since it was the first it is...not a good skill showcase. This one is so much better. More pics and process talk under the cut!

Close-up of the cover, and a pic of the spine. The blue bits are cardstock, and brown ones are faux leather left over from when I bound Pray for Us, Icarus. The images and author's name are in black embossing ink. Something weird happened with the texture on these--the author's name came out nice and smooth and solid like always, but the stamped images have a bumpy texture to them and some leather visible through the powder. They were done with rubber stamps on an ink pad and the text was done with an embossing pen, so I think it's a difference in the ink. It's a nice texture though, so I don't mind. I had originally thought to put the title on the front, but I really liked both stamps and I like how it came out.

Top view and endpaper. I'm really pleased with how the case fits; that's been something I struggle with on a lot of projects and I think I'm finally getting it down. The endpapers are a floretine print that I bought from Hollander's and cut to size. They got a little wrinkled when I cased in, especially in the back. It's my first time working with this kind of paper and I used too much glue. I also tried stitching them to the text block this time, but I don't think I'll bother with that again. I didn't like how flimsy the single-sheet signature felt next to the thicker ones in the text block. Fun fact for those who've seen an adaptation of this story but not actually read it: there is actually no hot air balloon in the book, even though it's in all the adaptations. There was a movie made in the 1950s which added the balloon and it's been in every version since then.

Title page and chapter header. I've been saying for a while that I wanted to up my title page game, and I really love how this looks. The image here is a free vector pulled from Seekpng.com. It's the same image on both pages, the one on the chapter header is just smaller and in gray instead of black. I've also chosen a name for my bindery, largely because other people had names for theirs and I thought it was cool and wanted my own. It's Paper Snake Press, you can see it at the bottom of the text. I want a logo too but haven't gotten around to making one yet. 2d art is, uh. Still not a strength for me.

The text I used was pulled from Project Gutenberg. Typesetting it was and interesting experience, surprisingly different from typesetting fic. When I do fic I keep the editing very light, just really obvious things like misspelled characters' names and quotation marks that are flipped the wrong way, but it always needs something. This one didn't need any of that, which was nice. It also has way longer sentences and paragraphs than fic, and I thought that might be a product of its age, that writers just wrote longer sentences and were more verbose in 1873 than they are now. But then this week I started working on another fic that has the same features, from someone I've suspected for a while is a published author, so I wonder if it's actually a professional author thing instead of a shift in reading tastes over time. I'm not really going anywhere with this speculation, I just thought it was interesting.

I have two more works-in-progress printed and waiting. One is an author copy and just needs casing in, the other's in a halfway stage and has a lot to be done, so it might be a bit before I have more books to post. But there's a whole stack of things I've typeset that I'm waiting to print, so there are good things coming.

[mickimomo]

Before I f*ck my doodles up trying to color them, lemme share them. 🥲

- Set in The Sun and The Sky AU

Soooo. You know how Attuma explains to Okoye that the hammerhead shark is his wayob, in my book When it Rains, It Pours (on AO3)?

I dunno if I'll write about these doodles in Storm or make a side fic for this, but I kinda brainstormed if Oni, Okoye, and Shuri had one chosen for their attire in Talokan.

I always tell y'all, I have the drawing skills of a chicken nuggets. 😵‍💫 But It's not... that awful... when I put my mind to it. 🥴

Alright. So this is a fashion show. And I'm going to explain it to you like I'm presenting a dish to Gordon Ramsey.

Okoye - Portuguese Man-O-War

I picked the Portuguese Man-O-War because they are beautiful and feared. Getting stung by one of these, sucks ass. As a fish, you're going off to the big fishbowl in the sky. And as a human, you may end up with some nasty zig zag stings (or, in very rare cases, a one way ticket to the pearly gates) because their tentacles tend to stick to your skin and you're just getting stung all over until you get free.

I don't think, Okoye would be limited to just this jellyfish in particular. But, because Attuma likes her in blue, she reps it most of the time.

- I didn't paint the jellyfish tentacles on yet for the skirt of her dress. If all goes well, you'll see the finished product in a day or two.

- It's supposed to look regal and ethereal. Giving the essence of look, but don't touch. Unless you're Attuma. Then you can touch. 🤭

- I attempted to draw Pakal. 🥲 Baby boy will be making his debut again, soon.

- I incorporated shark teeth in her arm bands and the idzila Attuma gifted her when he proposed. It'll definitely look more put together once I bust out the paint. 😤

- She's also dawning her Dora/Midnight Angel cuffs. Along with her beloved spear. I might make it a little longer.

Oni - Blue Dragon (Glaucus Atlanticus)

So, I picked the Blue Dragon for Oni because they eat the venom of the Portuguese Man-O-War. Kinda signifying all Oni has learned from Okoye and how much she looks up to her. Especially in her journey of becoming an honorary member of the Dora Milaje. I also picked the Blue Dragon because they look innocent. They're small and cute, but if you touch them, you will end up in the hospital. (They'll sting you if they feel threatened. 🥲) And if you know Oni, sis has a thing for sending people off to their ancestors.

I also felt the feathered look of this animal was complimentary to Namora's lionfish wayob.

- The feathers on her headpiece are remicient to horns and the fins of the blue dragon. The two short feathers that look horn-like represent her nickname: the Demon of Wakanda.

- The dress is designed around the overall body of the blue dragon. I think you'll be able to see it better once I paint it.

- Also. You can see I incorporated her two spears. Her father's and the one Shuri gifted her. She also dawns an idzila, holding true to the Dora Milaje.

- Her overall dress looks sun-like in design, with how the feathers lay. Yes, they're in respect to her wayob, but they also point to the nickname Namora gave her: Yuum K'iino. Where k'iino tends to point to k'iin (sun) and kinich ahau (the mayan sun god). Being a priest in mayan times had you in a position, second to the king. Which is fitting since Oni is the vessel of bast and priestess of Wakanda.

Shuri - Blue-Ringed Octopus

I think the spots of the blue-ringed octopus are reminiscent of a panther's spots. (I just learned that they have them. They're just so hard to see with the black fur. Sorry for the disrespect, Killmonger 🤭) Also. These octopi have a venom that lacks an antidote. Which can be reminiscent of Shuri's strength and rage. (Shoot. If it wasn't for Queen Ramonda, BP2 would have ended differently. 🥴) And since octopus are very intelligent. It can reflect her intellect. 🤔

- I kept the blue rings on a body suit she'll wear beneath the dress, so the outfit doesn't look too busy.

- I think having a few feathers incorporated into her collar indicates that she's a Queen in Wakanda (and eventually in Talokan. 👀) They also look like Panther ears. I'm thinking of making them reminiscent of K'uk'ulkan's. 🤔

- Her nails are sharp because she's wearing her vibranium claws. You can also see notes of her claws on her bust, like her black panther suit.

- I got kinda cliché with the skirt of her dress. But I just think the royal seamstresses would want to go all out with their beading skills. Imagine each tendril flowing in the water as Shuri swims and having it sparkle from every angle. I have no idea how I'm going to paint this yet. But the vision in my head is immaculate.

Welp, thanks for attending this Ted talk and wish me luck as I attempt to paint this. 😮‍💨 If all goes well, I might draw more lewks for the gang. Shoot. I might draw something for Aneka, Ayo, and RiRi. Or even a Wakandan style look for Namora. 😤

And before you ask, no, I can't draw men. 💀 I've been practicing, but it's not good enough to present to you guys. 🤧