#two more shorter snippets that really flow together

[aewinning]

Ohhhh I LOVE that Zhongli-as-Houyi concept! I really adore all the classically inspired ideas you have but I fully empathize with not writing them all out; that kind of stuff tends to take a lot of setup. But thank you for sharing, I'm glad to have heard the idea at least 🥰

As for the ones you asked...under the cut for length! I'll answer them from the perspective of Genshin fandom only since some might apply to multiple fandoms but people here don't really know my Homestuck works.

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Either "Wilting Flower on Crumbling Stone" or "Softly, Gently, Love Me" - both are Zhongzhu fics with an emphasis on accommodating Baizhu's illness, so I suppose it's safe to say I enjoy them being soft with each other as a general concept. Wilting Flower is a bit less overtly horny and a bit more focused on accepting what are commonly seen as flaws, but it also came after Baizhu's release so is a bit more accurate with the characterization.

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Realistically probably most of them in my giant file of ideas just because of my staunch refusal to treat writing like a job and only work on it when the creative juices are flowing (I burn out easily if I force myself). But one comes to mind that I'm not sure I'll ever write because it would be long and I'm historically just bad at keeping up the momentum to write longer fics (I won't even start posting shorter multichapter fics unless I'm done, because I want the assurance that I won't leave anyone hanging).

The idea is that Diluc needs some information from the Fatui that only a Harbinger would have, and he's smart enough to realize that a Harbinger isn't someone you can easily extract information from with violent threats like you can do with the underlings. So he decides to take a leaf from Kaeya's playbook and try to seduce Childe while he's in Mondstadt for something - only for that, he needs to actually learn how to seduce someone. And who better to learn such a thing from than Kaeya? So he swallows his pride and initiates an arrangement for Kaeya to teach him the art of romance, only to realize during the lessons that he's not as over Kaeya as he'd like to be.

I didn't have much planned out beyond that as for how the issue with Childe would be resolved, but I know that in order to do that concept justice it'd need to be a behemoth of a fic.

15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

A wide variety of methods! Often it's a line of poetry or a song lyric I think fits, and we all know I love my shitty puns. Occasionally I just snag a line from the fic if something stands out as a good title.

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

(promptly forgets everything I've ever written)

Hmm...the “Please don’t antagonize other dragons, love.” from Zhongli to Childe after Neuvillette just knocked Childe on his ass in "Justice is Served" makes me giggle every time. Just the absurdity of the situation and the calm way Zhongli says it really gets to me.

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

I know my published writing has been slowly lately but I have two zine fics done, a short Wriochi sickfic that I just need to edit and post at some point, and most of the "Clorinde fists Wriothesley while he cries of overstimulation into Neuvillette's lap and gets his hair petted" sexploration fic done. This is a snippet from the last one:

Clorinde thrusts the plug back in as suddenly as she removed it, and Wriothesley huffs out a surprised noise against Neuvillette’s stomach, still obnoxiously layered with robes. He’s seen the man with his top layers off at least—lean, not much muscle, a trim waist that begs to be held—but they still haven’t managed to coax him to take his pants off. Which: fine, whatever. It’s not like he jerked it to the thought of tasting the guy’s cock after that time they tied Neuvillette up together. That would just be embarrassing.

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

I'm a little nervous to post any fic; it's just a performance anxiety thing, I'm always like "oh god what if it's terrible and nobody likes it?" even when I know better. But there are a few that I've been more anxious to post than others: the Kaeya/Diluc fic and the dead dove Ayato/Scaramouche fic come to mind. I'm very much an oldschool "write what you want and tag it adequately and nobody has the right to yell at you about it" kind of person, and the Genshin fandom is, uh. Not super full of those people.

But I posted them off anon despite my aversion to drama so they could act as rent-lowering gunshots, so to speak. I sometimes write more mainstream ships or popular kinks, but that doesn't mean everything's gonna be vanilla and wholesome, and every now and then I feel the need to remind people of that so they can leave if they're not cool with that. I am who I am, I write what I write, and at the end of the day if others don't like that it's fine, because I write for me first and an audience second.

Surprisingly neither led to any drama that I can remember, though I may have just forgotten if there was because if anybody tries to drag me into drama I tend to just block them and move on with my life haha.

Fic writer asks: 5, 14, 17?

3, 5, 15, 18, 19, 27 for you!

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

I had an AU thing for Zhongli where he is actually a deified folk hero, much like some of the gods in Chinese pantheon (e.g Guan Yu or Zhong Kui), and he plays the role of Hou Yi in this story (because I'm obsessed with him being an archer).

He starts out as a normal guy, and got tasked by the emperor that he serves to think of a solution to save the land from getting scorched by 10 suns. These 10 suns are actually Jinwu (三足烏) and got playful but did not know they were harming the people (or didn't care). So when negotiation didn't work for them, Zhongli shot 9 of them dead with his bow and arrow.

Despite saving Liyue, Zhongli got himself exiled because the emperor feared his influence and power, yet dared not execute him outright lest the people riot. For his sin of murdering its siblings, the last jinwu cursed him with immortality. 

The story is supposed to follow how Zhongli will inevitably lose the people and places and things that are dear to him because of the curse, but the only thing that stays constant is his bond to jinwu, even though all the bird does is to mock and taunt him.

I couldn't actually figure out where their relationship was going though, and gave up.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Hmm... for Genshin Impact, it would be either Gift (Rezhong) for the cuteness and intimacy or spoonful of sugar (Zhongchibai). I'm fond of palace dramas and the scenes that I enjoy most are the 'behind the scenes' where people play a front before those they are not close to (among many other reasons, especially between the emperor's women and the emperor himself) and only show their true colours when in a private setting.

For DCMK, it would probably be Be Not Afraid because of how unsettling it is. I actually wrote that fic on pen and paper during free time at work and I'm immensely proud of how it turned out. The segmented, seemingly non-continous structure feels like it would adapt to a visual medium well.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

Researching dirty talk and humiliation for a fic (I forgot which one) as well as non-sexual d/s stuff people could do and 99.5% of it turns me off so badly. I had to come up with it myself. It's not my personal preference in reading or anything where humiliation is achieved by calling the bottom degrading pet names. It just feels so, so cheap. So that was one thing I learned about myself.

Also: One of the emperors that ruled ancient China loved pens (calligraphy/writing brushes) so much that people kept sending him pens as tribute and gifts. At some point he got to over twenty thousand pens in the palace and he had to officially go NO. STOP. NO MORE FUCKING PENS. (but in a nicer way). Also when the emperor shows up he has a whole orchestra playing music (emperor bgm) upon his entrance during special events. (information obtained from museums) (you probably know this already)

[faithfulcat111]

Vanya ran out of the house after her little brother, leaving her very much drunk brother with their sister. All of whom she had no idea existed this morning. It was more than enough to make her head spin, but after spending the last hour trying to keep everyone from just drinking from the ridiculous stash Klaus had bought, keep the conversation on track, and watch as Five continued to get closer and closer to losing his temper till he finally just stormed out.

"Hey," Vanya reached out to barely grab his wrist, stepping back as Five whirled around, his eyes flashing as she lifted her hand slowly. "I know that conversation didn't go the way you wanted it to. But you can't just run off like this."

"Why not?" Five snapped back. "It's not like they believe me. I don't know why I expected any of you to believe me, none of you did last time."

A shiver ran up Vanya's spine as she realized that definitely included her. "I know we didn't before. But Diego is trying to help. He may be getting distracted, but he seems to be trying. And I'm trying." She ran one of her hands up her arm with a sigh, "I really don't know how to help with all of this. Is there something different we can do from what you tried last time?"

Five blinked as he looked back at the house before sitting hard on the curb they were standing by. Vanya sat down beside him and waited for him to start, "I tried to do it all myself last time. And that failed in the worst way possible. I'm trying to change things this time. It just isn't working."

"Why don't we give them tonight to think everything over?" Vanya suggested. "We try one more time tomorrow and if they still aren't interested in helping, we can let them catch up on their time."

"You suggesting last-minute panic might motivate them?" Five asked with a huff. "Cause that, may not actually work..."

"I'm suggesting," Vanya cut in, "that a fresh day and whatever info Diego and Lila collect may give us a different way to convince them. It works with Harlen, it may work with them." She smiled slightly as she thought of him, before looking over at Five, who was tugging at the collar of his borrowed shirt as he stared out at the darkening sky.

Five raised an eyebrow before sighing, "Fine. We will wait, shall we go?" He held out his hand.

"Where now? I thought that was everyone?" Vanya questioned.

"It is, but Diego and Lila won't be back till late and I really want my clothes back. I know you told that lady that you might be away for a few days, but," he trailed off, his hand still awkwardly held out between them.

Vanya smiled, soft as she noted how tense he was. Emotions did not appear to come easy to her little brother. While she would have been fine keeping her word and staying away for a few days to help him, the fact that she could sleep in the only familiar place she knew was a comfort.

"Okay," she said, taking his hand. "Let's go."

**********************************************

Five had landed them at the end of the driveway leading them to Sissy's farm with a wince. Vanya noticed, not for the first time as he seemed to favour his left side as they started down the road. Sissy apparently had noticed them walking and was waiting on the front porch by the time they arrived. She looked practically bursting with questions, both from everything Vanya couldn't answer earlier, but new ones about why they were back. Vanya shook her head slightly, just asking, "Do you mind if he stays here with us tonight?"

Sissy softened immediately and said, "Of course. I just finished setting up for dinner. And I got his clothes clean, so they should be dry by tomorrow."

Five seemed to find this acceptable as he just grunted and pulled himself up the porch by the handrail and into the house. Vanya paused next to Sissy, "I'm sorry again for all of this. We found the rest of our siblings, according to Five, but none of them seem very keen on keeping any sort of eye on him and..."

"Hey, it's okay. You do what you got to do to help your little brother," Sissy said, brushing Vanya's hair back.

"Thank you," Vanya said with a smile before following her inside.

[belphegor1982]

A fanfic writer interview

(got tagged by @ricochetoconnell​ - and then, while I was answering it, @tinydooms :D Thank you ^^) Cut because it got long!

Tagging @kabbal​, @thisstableground​, @rose-of-pollux​, @marcvsjvnivsbrvtvs and @gorogues :o)

Name: I go by Belphegor on the internets and Pantxika (pan-chee-kah) irl.

Fandoms: Lots :3 I’ve been active online since 2000, I went through quite a few fandoms, some of which I still like from afar and some of which I still create or just enjoy content for. The ones that were the most influential to me were probably Harry Potter, The Mummy 1 & 2, The Lord of the Rings, and Hogan’s Heroes.

Two-shot: I looked it up because I didn’t understand the question? And then I only found “a story written in two chapters” as a definition and I still don’t really understand what I’m supposed to say here? :S I have exactly one two-shot, which is The Many Merry Majorly Mangled Demises of Major Wolfgang Hochstetter, which is a bit long to explain if you don’t know the premise of Hogan’s Heroes (a bunch of Allied prisoners of war are running a resistance operation from a genuine German POW camp - and it’s a 1960s sitcom).

Most popular multichapter: On AO3, Fairy Tales and Hokum (The Mummy Returns sequel, kinda), if only because that’s one of the only 4 stories out of 50 that has more than one chapter :D On FFnet, it comes second to Snapshot Collection, a collection of snippets and snapshots about the Justice League (Unlimited) 2000s cartoon.

Actual worst part of writing: Writing when the juices just won’t flow. And then feeling guilty because you feel the words are just there but you’re not actually writing.

How you choose your titles: Song titles, mostly. Since for the last couple of years I’ve mostly written stories set in the UK between the 1910s and the 1930s, finding a song with a title that fits is not as hard as it is in other fandoms.

Do you outline: One-shots, no, multi-chapters yes. I started Pirouette then Pas de Deux without any outline at all, but for the 3rd story I needed an outline.

Ideas I probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?: I have a two-page WIP about Sam Vimes (Discworld) waking up in the Waiting Room wherever the present-day parts of Quantum Leap happen. Basically I wanted Sam (Beckett) to Leap into Sam Vimes and Vimes and Al Calavicci to work together to figure out what needed to be fixed - while Sam Beckett dealt with things like magic, dwarfs and trolls and the sheer chaos of Anck-Morpork. I’ll probably never get past those two pages, but it would be nice, wouldn’t it? :o)

Callouts @ me: Would you just bloody make shorter sentences!? And ease up on the hyphens and parentheses!!?

Best writing traits: Dialogue, I guess? I just love character interaction, and dialogue is the best thing because you can also hint at what the words don’t actually say 💜 Oh, and research, probably. I have this complex where if I don’t include setting-accurate details I’m afraid people won’t find the story credible.

Spicy tangential opinion: Eh. It’s too hot here and I’m too knackered by heat and first day of period to have opinions. Sorry :-/

[atamascolily]

Fic meme

Thanks to @thebyrchentwigges for the tag and the excuse to ramble on about my fics!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 162, 12 of which are podfics under the lilypods pseud. Mostly shorter fics and one-shots, but some multichapter novellas and three novels!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 928,500

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? TOO MANY TO COUNT, LOL. Various Star Wars (mostly Legends, some OT, a smattering of ST), Puella Magi Madoka Magica, and Adventures of Sinbad have the most fics at the moment.

I really love crossovers and small niche fandoms, so that ups the number considerably.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

-In the Reptile House, a Harry Potter/Good Omens short.

-Through A Glass Darkly, a Star Wars Sequel Trilogy fix-it by way of Legends (novel)

-Total Eclipse - short Star Wars crackfic inspired by the North American eclipse of August 2017.

-Moebius, a Bleach/Puella Magi Madoka Magica crossover (novel)

-Four Fathers, short Star Wars OT character study.

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Generally yes, though I make exceptions for any comment that is rude, belittling, or trolling. I’ll try and give someone the benefit of the doubt if they’re on the edge, but if they repeat the behavior, then they lose their “communication with the author” privileges. and I do not engage with them. 

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? if I could turn back time, a Clannad/Puella Magi Madoka Magica crossover, which, given the source material totally checks out.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written? I LOVE CROSSOVERS SO MUCH! The most unlikely one is probably The Dry Land, which is a Star Wars/Earthsea crossover. But shoutout to Provocodictory, which is a Young Wizards/Princess Bride drabble.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Very little. I’m more of a fade to black kinda of person. My deepest respect for smut writers, though--it’s so hard and they do an amazing job of it!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of, at least.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Words for the Dead, a Star Wars OT missing scene, in French as Quelques mots pour les morts by Perspicacia.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I’m up for it with the right person.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship? must you make me choose? Sigh. Maeve/Sinbad from Adventures of Sinbad, and Luke Skywalker/Mara Jade from Star Wars Legends will always have a special place in my heart.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? *looks at folder and sighs*

15. What are your writing strengths? I know what I like, and I write a lot of it. Details, descriptions, creative and vivid imagery. Character studies and clever set-ups. Blending two diverse universes together into a coherent whole.

16. What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes. Smut. Original characters and the necessary mechanics to make original fiction work. Scenes with lots of characters interacting.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Like any trope or technique, it depends on the circumstances and context! I've seen it done skillfully and I’ve seen it done poorly. For me, if the POV character isn’t meant to understand what’s being said, I’ll throw in snippets if relevant (and put the translation in the notes), otherwise I generally provide a translation in the text itself. There are lots of creative ways to do this that don’t disrupt the flow of the story. For me, it’s best used sparingly, like salt or spices in a recipe--a little goes a long way and too much can be overwhelming or just too distracting.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Probably LOTR, but I have handwritten fanfics of the Adventures of Sinbad from the late ‘90s that I treasure.

19. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written? Must I choose? I love all my fics, but special shoutouts to Trompe-l'oeil and asynchronous--two PMMMs shorts--and Take My Breath Away, a Star Wars Legends Luke/Mara hanahaki fic, all three of which are dear to my heart.

[obscure-sentimentalist]

💖 🏅 ✨ 💭

Fanfic Ask Game

You know, I was going to make a wry "Asking the tough ones, huh?" comment to open this, but that was five days ago, and I think that speaks a lot to how accurate an assessment that was. It's been... a journey with my writing thoughts these last few days.

Putting under a cut, because I have no grasp on conciseness.

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Two things come to mind, though they vary in level of difficulty for me.

I’ve always been best at writing dialogue. Quipping comes pretty easily to me, and I have a bit of fun with character dynamics in conversation. (And what can I say, sometimes I can indulge in writing a dramatic villain monologue, as a treat.) Oftentimes, when I get stuck progressing with a piece, I’ll just jump in somewhere down the line with a bit of dialogue to put a pin on the map so I at least have something to which I can connect.

I also love doing very introspective scenes and works, really digging into a character’s head. It’s not something I say comes easily to me, exactly, but I feel very at home when I get to write pieces like this. Just spending a lot of time in a character’s head (particularly ones who don’t speak much, or who have plenty of secrets and insecurities to hide behind performative cheer) is something I thrive on.

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

This question is part of the reason why it’s taken so long for me to answer this, because when it came in I had barely written in a while (whatever I’d gotten down was sparse and painstakingly dragged out) and terrified about it. And I had this whole thing written up about how yeah, I hate feeling like this and want out, but I’m actually handling it better than I have been in this situation in the past.

But we’re going to forego that and just jump to the fact that I slapped some words out over a couple days this week. A few hundred scattered ones, not for anything I’m supposed to be or planned on writing--just a couple snippets of self-indulgent variations on a theme as an exercise. It may or may not go somewhere after some refinement, but for now I’m going to content myself with the fact that they’re finally words that have flowed easily enough.

✨ Choose three adjectives to compliment your own writing.

Soft, stabby, silly. (And sometimes all three at once!)

I like doing shorter, gentler pieces fairly often--fluff with substance, some quieter moments in between that often have some facet of introspection. I could pretty much say the same thing about the more humorous things I’ve done.

And then there’s stabby, because I will see little details and wonder, “How can I sharpen this to inflict maximum pain?” And revel in it.

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

I’ve been waffling on this one a lot, first because I wasn’t sure exactly how to interpret the question, and because I just didn’t know what to select for it. So I’m just going to take this to mean something I haven’t explicitly made canon in this fic universe (yet, if ever) but have Thoughts about, and fill in some blanks between what I’ve already established in the Old enough ‘verse.

I think quiet moments are a complicated thing for both twins, and not something either of them generally initiates. Tommy has his trauma surrounding silence and being left alone (which he takes a long time to even speak of to Connor, and still hasn’t fully dealt with), and is furthermore that natural showman, so he’s all about keeping things lively and entertaining. Connor, by comparison, could probably benefit from lower-key moments given his high-stress career, but he’s also notorious for bottling up his emotions and letting them simmer--quiet tends to get him stuck in his own head.

The key reason for both of them, though, is that they’re constantly trying to make up for lost time. There’s twenty-three years of separation between them at first, and the fact that they don’t live anywhere near each other and are trying to keep their brotherhood under wraps minimizes the amount of time they get to spend with each other. Tack on the 6.5 years between Tommy’s death and resurrection, and while Tommy stays in Chicago and moves into Connor’s spare room when he comes back, now they’re scrambling to fill even more gaps in time. With the way their lives have gone, the twins are under this unspoken pressure to use all the time they now have to the fullest.

It’s a system that works well enough in those first (just shy of) five years, precisely because they have that geographical distance between them--visits are like a special occasion, where they can fill the limited days with activities and shenanigans and plenty of talking before returning to their separate, daily lives. There’s downtime and recovery, but not together.

But after? After Tommy comes back, refusing to process that he came back and how that affects him; after Connor has spent years drowning in his grief and barely begun to cope with it, only for the universe to turn around and give him back his brother? Not only are neither of them in the right headspace for constant motion and eventfulness, they’re both too damn stubborn to acknowledge that. Add to the fact that they’re together practically 24/7 for a while in the immediate aftermath, and it’s not sustainable at best/a recipe for disaster at worst.

What I’ve written so far post-Old enough epilogue would suggest that, thankfully, they never hit that meltdown point, but the fact that it takes months more for Tommy to finally crack from the trauma of his death is very indicative that these two nitwits probably never had a real discussion about needing to slow down and why. They most likely just ran themselves ragged from trying to do too much and crashed, and only in the recovery period do they realize the importance of that downtime and how the quiet is nowhere near as lonely or overwhelming when shared with their brother.

[searchingforbucky]

Fic Rec (Part 18) :)

Hello everyone! So here it is, the Baker!Bucky fic rec list. I will say, there doesn't seem to be many stories like that out there :( so I mixed in some of my favorite Baker!Reader x Bucky stories too! These all were incredibly sweet, enough give you a cavity ;)but its fitting! Sorry its a bit short, I hope you all enjoy!💖

Love Handles by @jaamesbbarnes 

oh man OK, this one’s adorable. So this one is about baker reader, and Chubby!Bucky.  this one owns my heart just like the Raiders bakery owns Buckys. So this one is also about a sort of rain brings people together, Bucky stumbled across the readers bakery during the rain, and that was history. I really lovely personality the reader has in the story, how sassy and unapologetic she is. And to see Bucky kind of be the shy timid awkward one, it’s one of my favorite shops. But also Doriane does an amazing job of dealing with chubby Bucky. She really expertly handles the insecurity that comes with him having gained a little weight, in a really realistic way. And it made me feel for Bucky when he was starting to feel down about himself, but the fact that the reader loves him and doesn’t care about any of that is so sweet. Loooove this one!

Flour Girl Series Masterlist by @avengerofyourheart

ohhhhhh We have an enemies to lovers situation going on in this one. So this one is about Baker Bucky and Baker reader, And they’re rivals. So this one was awesome and so well done. It’s based on you got mail, and it was so wholesome and their relationship was precious. There was never that like inappropriate power dynamic or just harshness that a lot of enemies to lovers have, like yeah they didn’t like each other. But it was never really hateful you know? It was really sweet. And you just get so invested emotionally with their relationship you just want to see it grow, and you want to see them grow together. there’s some angst here in there, but Anika does a really good job at fixing it lol. ALSO SHE ADDED RECIPES

Eating Your Weight (Baker AU) by @propertyofpoeandbucky

so this one is also about Baker reader, and Bucky is putting on weight because of it. And it is also spectacularly done. I love seeing the dynamic between the characters, and I really relate to it because if I’m in a relationship I really want validation LOL. But I like this one because it’s such a passing thing, he knowledges he gained weight, but then he’s like you know what I love you, and she loves him too. It’s so cute. It really is just a sweet interaction between a lovely loving couple. Also check out other series That’s kind of a baker AU, where the reader is a baker and she visits Steve in a senior center and meet Bucky it is also adorable. (This Old Heart (Baker AU))

Why Can’t I Say That I’m in Love? by @buckthegrump

OK so this one is awesome, it’s a baker Bucky and a princess reader story. Like right off the bat, are you a killer plot LOL. So this one it’s kind of self-explanatory, the princess falls in love with the baker son, and absolute fluffiness ensues, this one was like a literal heart melter. The whole for bed and love thing, always gets me. But my favorite thing about this is like, how it wasn’t some sort of inability to be together and there doesn’t have to be this dramatic issue to get over it. I mean don’t get me wrong those stories are awesome too, but I love happy stories. Like the reader is bad ass and wants to marry bucky, so she told her parents and she does. Amazing! 

kitchen royalty by @the-canary

So this one is about baker reader and Bucky. Bucky has been secretly working at the bakers shop to get money and food, and honestly when she finds out the relationship just grows from there. I love that they found each other, after everything he’s been through, and all if the issues. They ended up together, and that helped them both so much. how she's just so understanding and sweet when it comes to him, it’s utterly adorable. She just immediately took him in, it was so sweet to read, and imagining Bucky in a hairnet?? My heart. And he calls her CUPCAKE MY HEART. Sooooo adorable. Like literally it’s like they just grow closer and healthier and happier and I’m so in love 

Honey and the bee by @chrevastan

This one was so utterly amazing. This one is about Baker reader, and really she’s part of the avengers in a way, and Bucky. So the reader decides to start baking, and it leaves her to get close to Bucky. But this one was so freaking adorable, there was such a natural flow to the story. It was so realistic, there was perfectly timed angst, so much fluff. It was one of the stories that you knew was something the writer liked doing, because you love reading it just that much more. just seeing the growth in their relationship, I know I’ve been saying that a lot in this one, but you can like feel every step forward Bucky is taking in becoming his own person and becoming a better person. It is the loveliest thing to see how literally you’re getting to his heart through his stomach. And the angst hurt because you were so invested in the story but God it was so good.

Butter Me Up by @captain-ariel-barnes 

OK, so this one is about Baker Bucky, and the reader who gets caught in the rain and goes in to Buckys shop for shelter. This one is absolutely adorable, and the fact that Bucky calls the reader sugar is an immediate yes for me LOL. It’s a nickname that I don’t see much in Bucky stories, but when I do I am all in. This one was just a shorter yet so sweet story, a little bit of a sassy Bucky here in there, just makes you feel good!

Feel Like Baking Love by @wehaveabucky-archive

OK so this one is about baker Bucky and single mom reader. The readers daughter has a birthday party coming up, the reader has everything planned but the birthday cake. In comes baker Bucky to save the day!  Wanda is such a little mastermind in this, super smart set up from her lol, we all need a best friend like that.  my favorite thing about this one was just how sweet both the reader and Bucky were, to have Bucky remember all of the little details down to the color of the box, to not even bad and I when it comes to the readers daughter. To having put so much work into the cake and only one day, and the reader who just loves her daughter. How guilty she felt. The fact that Bucky isn’t even like a real cake baker and he still did it. It was just a really sweet story you know?

The Sweetest Thing by @bucky-plums-barnes

so this one is adorable, it’s basically like a compilation of a bunch of different travels. It’s based on little scenes of the lives of Baker Bucky and the reader. I always love travel series like this, being able to see all of the little scenes individually, but also knowing exactly how they fit in together is awesome. This series is so cute, Bucky is the sweetest thing, seeing their love, and their relationship, and their family grow is absolutely adorable. Like, this sounds cliché cause I’m talking about Baker Bucky but holy shit it gives you a cavity is so sweet., How patient he is, how adorably cute she is. It really is one of those relationships that you want for yourself. I know I personally want a baker boyfriend LOL

Firebug Masterlist by @areyoureadyforsomemeatballz

this one is fantastic, so this one is about baker reader, and fire fighter Bucky. And the reader owns a bakery, and Bucky frequency regularly. This one is so incredibly sweet, it was something I read as chapters came out and it was absolutely worth the wait, and being able to come back to it and just binge it is absolutely amazing. It was so to throbbing Lee sweet, and everybody wants a hot fire fighter to dig their baking. it was so incredibly sweet, to see him be so loving and patient with her, and just to see their love grow throughout the chapters, it was like some of my favorite tropes smashed together, I love fire fighter Bucky. And I don’t wanna spoil the end but let me just say, motorcycle into the sunset. With a hot firefighter. Beat that 

black forest - baker!b.b. by @serpienten and @wintersoeldiers

OK so this one is an absolute trip, so it’s about Baker Bucky and the reader, and honestly like this story is a fantastic train wreck. It is so crazy, one thing after another lol. It’s such a delight to read. Like even if you just read the quick snippets you literally get immediately pulled in. You’re just like what? How is that happening in one chapter, but it’s not overwhelming, it’s not out of place or unfitting. It’s just a really well done story that’s so fun to read because you’re so invested in them and what’s going to happen next. I will warn that it’s not completed, and it kind of ends on a cliffhanger so read at your own risk, but it is really good and I felt like it was worth it

Sweet by @hcwlingccmmandcs

Oh man, OK so this one was adorable. It is completely fitting to the tile, it was so sweet. So it’s like a small business AU, The reader is a baker, and Bucky is a florist. Like how much better can you get lol. The two sweetest professions, coming together to fall in love. Was so sweet how kind of shy they were, slowly coming together. It’s really just a mellow sweet story, their interactions together when they talk about the things they love are so adorable. This is such a nice story to just sit down and slowly read. But I will say it’s not finished, and it gets a bit anxiety in the end of the last chapter so read at your own risk.

and last but certainly not least

Nothing Under 7 Inches by @hellomissmabel

Oh man, OK so this one is also a trip, it was a roller coaster of emotions. There is a lot of twists in this one, and a lot of angst. At least in my opinion lol. So Bucky is a baker in The readers hometown, The reader comes home for a special occasion, and meets Bucky. This one made me feel a lot of things, I will put a warning in there that there is a bit of sugar daddy Tony, so if you’re not into that this wouldn’t be the one for you. I did not think I would be into it. But I was. This one was always having me on the edge of my seat because I really wanted the reader and Bucky to work out, but there was always something coming up to stop them. And I will say this one is also not finished, but it ends on a note that is somewhat OK and not necessarily a cliffhanger, but still read at your own risk! but it’s really good! 

Alright! Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it ! :)

[sciencespies]

How Ancient DNA Unearths Corn's A-Maize-ing History

https://sciencespies.com/nature/how-ancient-dna-unearths-corns-a-maize-ing-history/

How Ancient DNA Unearths Corn's A-Maize-ing History

Smithsonian Voices National Museum of Natural History

How Ancient DNA Unearths Corn’s A-maize-ing History

December 14th, 2020, 3:00PM / BY

Erin Malsbury

Sequencing entire genomes from ancient tissues helps researchers reveal the evolutionary and domestication histories of species. (Thomas Harper, The Pennsylvania State University)

In the early 2000s, archeologists began excavating a rock shelter in the highlands of southwestern Honduras that stored thousands of maize cobs and other plant remains from up to 11,000 years ago. Scientists use these dried plants to learn about the diets, land-use and trading patterns of ancient communities.

After years of excavations, radiocarbon dating and more traditional archaeological studies, researchers are now turning to ancient DNA to provide more detail to their insights than has ever before been possible.

In a paper published today in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, scientists used DNA from 2,000-year-old corn cobs to reveal that people reintroduced improved varieties of domesticated maize into Central America from South America thousands of years ago. Archeologists knew that domesticated maize traveled south, but these genomes provide the first evidence of the trade moving both directions.

Researchers at the Smithsonian and around the world are just beginning to tap into the potential of ancient DNA. This study shows how the relatively recent ability to extract whole genomes from ancient material opens the door for new types of research questions and breathes new life into old samples, whether from fieldwork or forgotten corners of museum collections.

Cobbling together DNA

DNA, packed tightly into each of our cells, holds the code for life. The complex molecule is shaped like a twisting ladder. Each rung is made up of two complementary molecules, called a base pair. As humans, we have around three billion base pairs that make up our DNA. The order of these base pairs determines our genes, and the DNA sequence in its entirety, with all the molecules in the correct position, is called a genome. Whole genomes provide scientists with detailed data about organisms, but the process of acquiring that information is time sensitive.

“In every cell, DNA is always being bombarded with chemical and physical damage,” said lead author Logan Kistler, curator of archeobotany and acheogenomics at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History. “In live cells, it’s easily repaired. But after an organism dies, those processes that patch things up stop functioning.” As a result, DNA begins breaking down into smaller and smaller fragments until it disappears entirely. This decomposition poses the greatest challenge for scientists trying to sequence entire genomes from old or poorly-preserved tissue.

Researchers wear protective suits and work in sterile conditions in the ancient DNA lab to prevent contamination. (James DiLoreto, Smithsonian)

“You have to take these really, really small pieces of DNA — the length of the alphabet in some cases – and try to stitch them back together to make even a 1000 piece long fragment,” said Melissa Hawkins, a curator of mammals at the Smithsonian who works with ancient DNA. “It’s like trying to put a book back together by having five words at a time and trying to find where those words overlap.”

This laborious process prevented researchers from sequencing whole genomes from ancient DNA until around 2008, when a new way to sequence DNA became available. Since then, the technology and the ability to reconstruct ancient DNA sequences has grown rapidly.

Ancient DNA still proves challenging to work with, however. Kistler and colleagues collected 30 maize cobs from the thousands in the El Gigante rock shelter in Honduras. The material ranged in age from around 2,000 to around 4,000 years old. Of the 30 cobs that the researchers tried to extract DNA from, only three of the 2,000-year-old samples provided enough to stitch together whole genomes. A few others provided shorter snippets of DNA, but most of the cobs didn’t have any usable genetic material left after thousands of years.

The second biggest problem researchers face when working with ancient DNA is contamination. “Everything living is a DNA factory,” said Kistler. When working with samples that are thousands of years old, the researchers take extra precautions to avoid mixing modern DNA into their samples. They don sterilized suits and work in an air-tight, positive-pressure lab designed specifically for working with ancient DNA.

A-maize-ing possibilities

The ability to sequence whole genomes from thousands of years ago has allowed researchers to ask questions they couldn’t think of answering using individual genes or smaller DNA fragments.

“A whole genome is comprised of several hundred ancestral genomes, so it’s sort of a time capsule of the entire population,” said Kistler. For important staple crops like maize, this means researchers can study the genes associated with domestication and determine when and how people changed it over time. And knowing what communities were doing with crops provides insight into other parts of life, such as land-use and trading.

“Whole genome sequencing of ancient materials is revolutionizing our understanding of the past,” said co-lead author Douglas Kennett from the University of California, Santa Barbara. The authors dug into the whole genome for information about how maize domestication occurred and where it spread.

The cobs from 4,000 years ago and before did not have enough genetic material left for researchers to produce genomes. (Thomas Harper, The Pennsylvania State University)

Before their results, it was widely assumed that maize was mostly flowing southward. They were surprised to learn that improved maize varieties were also reintroduced northward from South America. “We could only know this through whole genome sequencing,” said Kennett. Next, the scientists plan to pinpoint more specific dates for the movement of maize and connect its history to broader societal changes in the pre-colonial Americas.

Growing applications

The same technological advances that made Kistler and Kennett’s maize study possible have also created new uses for museum specimens. Scientists use ancient genomes to study how humans influenced plant and animal population sizes over time, species diversity and how closely related organisms are to each other. They even expect to discover new species hiding in plain sight.

“Sometimes, species are really hard to tell apart just by looking at them,” said Hawkins. “There is so much more that we don’t know.” To make extracting and sequencing DNA from older museum specimens easier, the Smithsonian is in the process of building a historic DNA lab. This space, separate from the ancient DNA lab, will allow researchers to focus on older collections with tissue quality that falls between ancient samples from archeological sites and freshly frozen material.

The ancient DNA lab at the Smithsonian takes several precautions to preserve existing DNA and prevent contamination. (James DiLoreto, Smithsonian)

“It’s really amazing that we have the opportunity to learn from samples that have already been here for 100 years,” said Hawkins. “We’ve unlocked all these museum collections, and we can do so many more things with them now than anyone had a clue was possible even 15 years ago.”

Related stories: Our Thanksgiving Menu has Lost a Few Crops Scientists to Read DNA of All Eukaryotes in 10 Years Safety Suit Up: New Clean Room Allows Scientists to Study Fragile Ancient DNA

Erin Malsbury is an intern in the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History’s Office of Communications and Public Affairs. Her writing has appeared in Science, Eos, Mongabay and the Mercury News, among others. Erin recently graduated from the University of California, Santa Cruz with an MS in science communication. She also holds a BS in ecology and a BA in anthropology from the University of Georgia. You can find her at erinmalsbury.com.

More From This Author »

#Nature

[geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek]

smells like you love me

geraskier | explicit | 3.4k | abo au, alpha!geralt, omega!jaskier

today jaskier still smells of oranges and honey, but there’s something else underneath it that geralt can’t quite place. It’s not bad, per se, but it leaves him feeling on-edge, a tightness in his skin and tension in his muscles that’s different from the usual, and he just knows something is going to go wrong.

it always does, with jaskier.

( read on ao3 )

When Geralt opens his eyes that morning, he knows, instinctively, that the day is going to go to shit.

He can smell Jaskier from across the campsite, scent sweet but not saccharine like most omegas Geralt has met—they’re too sugary, too flowery, like candy with too much flavoring or perfume applied too heavily.

(His alpha senses don’t like it as it is, but his witcher senses on top of it makes his nose scrunch until he's scowling and then it all sours into fear and it’s not any better, but at least fear doesn’t make it feel like his teeth are rotting from it.)

Jaskier, though—his scent is softer, orange blossoms and honey, with a hint of something crisp, like the air when rain is on the horizon. It’s clean and fresh, and it doesn’t make Geralt gag or the alpha in him recoil in disgust when he gets a whiff of it on the wind. He also doesn’t smell of fear, the sour, acidic notes never present in his scent when he’s around Geralt, and that is something Geralt will never admit he treasures.

Today Jaskier still smells of oranges and honey, but there’s something else underneath it that Geralt can’t quite place. It’s not bad, per se, but it leaves him feeling on-edge, a tightness in his skin and tension in his muscles that’s different from the usual, and he just knows something is going to go wrong.

It always does, with Jaskier.

(Geralt tries not to think about what it says about him that he lets it happen anyway.)

They’re heading north up the continent, if only because they’ve already been to the south and the west and the east, and making a circuit is as good a plan as any. They haven’t seen each other in a few months, and Jaskier whines about not having any new material in that brief interim, and he tags along because he’s a fool who lacks a sense of self-preservation and finds a witcher to be good company.

Geralt...doesn’t hate it.

Their coin is low, as well as their food supplies, but there’s a town a few days’ trek away, and that’s their next immediate destination. He hasn’t been up this way in a while, long enough that another monster or beast might have moved in to terrorize people, so Geralt figures they might be in need of him (whether they want to admit it or not). Jaskier claims he hasn’t been through this part either, and that he’ll get to spread his songs to yet another town full of ears ripe for listening.

It starts as a nice enough day—but so do all the others before they go to shit. Today is no exception.

They have a quick, sparse breakfast before setting off. Geralt walks beside Roach, her reigns in hand, and Jaskier trails behind him, singing snippets of lyrics that come to mind, but never a full song. He’ll play a chord only to scrunch his nose up at it and play another, and Geralt finds amusement in occasionally glancing at him to see it. The orange blossom and honey scent follows them, surrounds their little bubble of space when they stop to have lunch, and it puts Geralt at peace, relaxes his shoulders.

They stumble across the cockatrice toward dinnertime.

Well. Jaskier stumbles into it and Geralt rolls his eyes as he pulls him back and puts his swords between the beast and the idiot. It’s not a big one, and it already looks wounded and weak, dripping blood as it screams at Geralt and lunges for him, and it goes down easy enough, but then the mother comes screeching out of the trees and suddenly the day goes from not too bad to utter shit.

“Fuck,” Geralt says with feeling, and braces himself for a fight.

The stench of beast blood fills the air as he throws himself into taking off the thing’s head, and it gets in a couple of good swipes but nothing his natural witcher healing ability and the last of his salves won’t fix right up. The acrid smell of fear— along with something cloying, something thick and heavy—mixes with the orange blossom and honey and permeates around him, and he grits his teeth and keeps himself between the cockatrice and Jaskier as much as possible.

In a show of rarely-demonstrated intelligence, Jaskier scrambles off and finds a tree to climb up into to stay out of the way. Geralt has one sense out for him but keeps most of his focus on the cockatrice until he takes its head off too and its body slumps to the ground, dead.

Adrenaline pumps through him and Geralt glares at the dead creature for a long moment, letting it pass. When his head is clearer, he sheathes his swords and goes to pluck what feathers he can from the cockatrices. He considers digging into them for their livers and tosses the idea aside because he really, really doesn’t want the smell of cockatrice guts all over his clothes for three more days.

Speaking of smells—

Jaskier has climbed out of the tree, eyes wide and hands fluttering about while he chatters nonsensically about the attack. His scent has lost the fear, but it still has that cloying and heady undertone beneath the orange blossom and the honey that’s dug itself under Geralt’s skin and refuses to let go.

“Gods, Geralt, that was magnificent!” His pulse races in his veins, heartbeat quick but calming already. “Terrifying, as well, but magnificent! It nearly ate me! I could be nothing but the digested shit of a cockatrice by now if not for you! Really, what would I do without you?”

“You said it yourself,” Geralt mutters as he wipes his hands on his pants, tying the feathers he’d gathered together and heading for Roach. “You’d be cockatrice shit by now.”

Jaskier gives him a look as he follows Geralt back to where they’d left Roach but doesn’t dispute it. His heartbeat sticks at something just above sedate, his face and neck flushed, and his scent is strong, pheromones spilling off his skin in waves. Geralt inhales deeply on reflex, eyes closing, filling his lungs with the familiar, calming smell, and catches the undertone again. It smells like—it smells like lust, like need, thick like molasses and just as sticky sweet.

His own skin goes hot, the alpha in him keening, and his eyes snap open. Jaskier is muttering again, looking anywhere but at Geralt, pulling at his tunic and breathing heavier than is really necessary, and it hits him—

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier cuts off mid-sentence and looks at Geralt, eyes wide and bright and so, so very goddamn blue behind the haze beginning to settle over them.

“You’re in heat,” Geralt says, and it’s not a question.

Jaskier huffs and rolls his eyes, pulls at his tunic again. “Thank you, I would never have guessed it,” he snaps. The flush deepens, and Geralt catches the lemon-sour scent of embarrassment. “I’m trying not to think about it, because that just makes it worse, but fine! Let’s point it out, shall we?”

Geralt’s brow furrows, his chest expanding as he inhales again, tasting honey and orange and molasses. Blood flows right to his cock and his pants are way too tight now, his skin tingling and the urge to touch almost too much to ignore. Bad idea . He grits his teeth against it all, swallowing thickly. “Why would you come with me if you knew you were going into heat?” he spits out, and he’s not angry, just exasperated, but it comes out more biting than he intends.

“It wasn’t supposed to hit for another week!” Jaskier exclaims. He’s breathing even more heavily, panting almost, pheromones so strong now Geralt is having difficulty concentrating on his words—too focused on the light sheen of sweat making his skin glow in the evening light, the way he bites his lip, the tent in his own pants. “We were going to get to the next town, and I was going to bid you goodbye and we’d be on our merry ways, and I’d deal with it like I always do, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”

He takes a deep breath, and Geralt doesn’t miss the soft whine that breaks out of his throat—he can smell Geralt and the answering pheromones of an alpha responding to him, but he holds himself still (barely, by the way he leans towards Geralt).

“Outside stressors, however,” he continues, looking petulantly at the remains of the cockatrice some yards away now, “can sometimes cause a heat to happen early.”

Geralt blinks, takes that in, and gives him his most deadpan, unimpressed look despite the way his alpha is begging to go to him and press his nose into the scent gland on Jaskier’s neck. “You scared yourself into heat, is what you’re telling me.”

“I scared myself into my heat!” Jaskier laments, throwing up his hands in defeat. The movement wafts his scent toward Geralt, and he can’t stop the growl that escapes him, low and predatory. His skin is tight over his bones, and his alpha wants—it demands this omega beneath him, writhing and keening and stuffed full of his cock and his seed.

Mine.

Geralt wishes that thought surprised him more, but of late he’s looked at Jaskier—his blue eyes and his soft skin, his scent that entices him instead of repelling him, his unwavering loyalty and brave spirit—and wanted it to be true.

He takes a heavy step forward, towards Jaskier, and forces himself to a halt when Jaskier sucks in a sharp breath, head tilting back in invitation. Geralt forces himself to think with his head instead of his dick.

“How long do your heats usually last?” he asks, voice rough, almost a bark. It does nothing but make Jaskier shiver, and Geralt knows it’s not in fear (there is definitely no fear here now).

Jaskier takes a moment to think through the haze no doubt clouding his mind. “Um, four days, I guess? Longer, if I’m just coming off suppressants, but I haven’t been on those in years. Shorter with a partner.”

“How much shorter?”

“About two days?” he says, like he isn’t sure. “Day and a half at the shortest.”

Geralt tries to think, lust clouding his own mind (because dammit if he isn’t, hasn’t been, and won’t always be attracted to this idiot of an omega). They’re about three days out from the next town, but traveling in the middle of a heat is probably the most unpleasant thing an omega can do—impossible, really, because they’re nearly incapacitated with the desire to fuck.

But having a heat in the middle of goddamn nowhere with monsters roaming around and drawn to the smell of heat pheromones isn’t a whole lot better.

Unless—

He doesn’t even think as he slides his swords off his back and lets them fall to the ground at his feet. His alpha pants in anticipation, impatient. Jaskier watches him with lidded eyes as he stalks forward, coming right up to him and crowding in close. Those blue eyes flutter shut for a moment, and he leans into Geralt as he dips his head down and presses his nose to that scent gland.

“Wh-what are you doing,” he gasps when Geralt places his hands on his hips, tugs him closer. Geralt noses against the gland, inhaling the scent from the source, and feels his chest rumble with a growl. He lets his nose trail lightly up the side of Jaskier’s face as he brings his head up, meeting his eyes.

“We’re too far out to travel with you like this,” he answers, “and your pheromones will start attracting who knows what kind of beasts the longer into heat you go.”

Jaskier mewls when Geralt dips back down and licks his neck, tasting that sweet and enticing scent for himself. “But,” he continues, voice rough with growing passion and want, need rising inside him, “they’ll keep their distance if they smell me on you, smell you claimed. ”

“Gods, yes, ” Jaskier moans, and he tilts his head back to let Geralt at him, going boneless and weak-kneed in his arms. His own arms come up around Geralt’s shoulders, fingers sliding down his collar to dig into the skin of his neck. Geralt reaches down, grips his ass, and feels slick soaking through his pants.

They go to the ground, Geralt above Jaskier and between his legs where he rolls his hips and grinds their cocks together. Jaskier moans again and returns the motion, spreading his legs wider and urging Geralt closer by pulling on his shoulders. Geralt keeps his nose buried in his neck, teeth lightly scraping over his skin, nipping at the bolt of his jaw and his collarbones, drawing blood to the surface and leaving pinpricks of bruises.

“Mine,” he growls, and Jaskier nods frantically, clawing at him in increasing desperation. It pumps through his veins, the urge to mate fuck claim mate mate mate. They struggle to get their clothes out of the way, coats and tunics discarded, belts undone and pants kicked off.

“Yours,” Jaskier breathes, throwing his head back. Geralt can’t resist the urge anymore—he bites down, sucking the skin into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth, careful not to break it. Jaskier keens, long and high-pitched.

The sun is low on the horizon, golden rays shining off the sweat on their skin as they move together, finding their rhythm. Jaskier is dripping slick, thighs covered in it, soaking the ground beneath him and Geralt as he presses his cock, hard and thick, knot already beginning to form at the base, against him.

Jaskier chokes on another mewl, thrusting up, legs around Geralt’s hips to urge him closer. “ Please, please, please, ” he begs, rolling his hips, his own leaking cock pressing against Geralt’s stomach, smearing precome. It makes Geralt’s cock slip against him, the tip barely breaching him before slipping away again. Geralt bites him again, snarling, and Jaskier just moans again and pulls at his shoulders. “Oh, fuck, please, Geralt, just fuck me!”

“You smell so good,” Geralt says, rough and deep. He presses hard kisses into Jaskier’s skin, tasting him—orange blossoms and honey and rainstorm and molasses—trailing from his collarbones up his jaw to his mouth. “Never scared, just clean. Should be scared, but you’re not. Oranges and honey. Rain. Like it.”

Jaskier pulls back—and oh, no, his alpha doesn’t like that—just enough to meet Geralt’s burning gaze, his own blue eyes shining with haze. His mouth hangs open, panting, and Geralt’s eyes are drawn to it. He watches as a tongue wets those lips, watches them move as Jaskier whispers, hotly, enticingly, demanding, “Fuck me, alpha.”

Take what’s yours, he doesn’t say, but Geralt hears it. He crashes his mouth onto Jaskier’s, claiming those lips, that tongue, and fucks into him in one motion with a roll of his hips, his cock sliding into that wet heat, knot catching at the end. He swallows the keening noise Jaskier makes and keeps kissing him as he sets a hard, fast pace, skin slapping loudly in the waning evening, stars beginning to come out above them.

It’s hot and rough and near goddamn perfect. Jaskier takes him like he was made for Geralt, like his body was crafted just to let him in and keep him there. He kisses back desperately, biting at Geralt’s mouth, licking against him to taste deeper. Geralt lets him, wants him deeper, inside him so far he’ll never leave again and Geralt can protect him always.

It’s over almost too soon, because this is just the first round of many they’re going to have tonight.

Geralt fucks hard and deep, drawing out the most incredible sounds from Jaskier’s mouth and swallowing them right into his chest. They’re soaked in sweat and slick, bruises dotting Jaskier’s collarbones and neck and scratch marks sting down Geralt’s back where Jaskier’s nails had dug into him. With one particular thrust, Jaskier finally comes, shaking as he spills between them, and the smell of him and the sounds he makes—begging, please please please fill me up alpha I want it I need it—has him pressing in as deep as he can go and finding his own release, knot growing and locking them together, a deep, satisfied groan leaving his throat.

He slumps down minutes later, still pumping seed into Jaskier, but no longer in possession of enough strength to hold himself up. His knees are scraped from the ground, and he thinks Jaskier’s back probably feels the same, but the contented humming he’s doing as he runs fingers through Geralt’s hair says he doesn’t mind.

“That,” Jaskier says, voice breathy, “was fantastic.”

Geralt just gives a soft hm, letting his body relax. The night air is cool, and he feels Jaskier’s skin starting to pebble as the gentle breeze catches his sweat. They’ll need to start a fire and set up camp properly just as soon as they’re not tied together anymore.

Jaskier’s scent has now lost that thick hint of molasses, though Geralt knows it’ll be back soon. It’s clean again, just orange blossoms and honey and rain, and he buries his nose in Jaskier’s neck again, inhaling it deeply. It makes Jaskier let out a soft sound, but he just holds Geralt tighter, and they fall into silence.

Sometime later, as Geralt’s knot finally goes down, Jaskier breaks the quiet. “I could never be scared of you. You know that.”

Geralt turns his head to peer at him, still too sated to work up much skepticism. “Hm.”

Jaskier brushes hair from Geralt’s face, fingers lingering on his cheek. “All those witcher senses, and you don’t know why?”

Geralt does know. It’s rare in this world—nothing that has a particular scent, just a...a hint of something, something natural and inherent. It’s clean and simple and pure, uncomplicated. Different for every person who feels it.

Love on Jaskier smells like orange blossoms and honey and rainstorms.

Geralt shifts, cock slipping out of Jaskier, making him suck in a breath. He pushes himself up, worn and tired, muscles aching but in a good way. Jaskier sits up after him, making a face when come and slick rush out of him onto the ground. He wipes at the mess on his chest.

“Gods, look at me! I'm filthy! Disgusting! I hate this.”

He continues muttering to himself as Geralt finds them a place—away from that particular spot—to set up camp. He feels Jaskier’s eyes on him as he goes to Roach and starts pulling out their supplies, trailing over his naked body shamelessly. It makes the alpha in him preen and his cock twitch again.

He gives Jaskier a look, eyebrow raised and mouth curled in a smirk. “Like what you see?”

“Always,” Jaskier replies, meeting his eyes. He returns the smirk with one of his own. “But that’s not news to you, surely.”

It’s not, but it’s nice to hear, anyway.

By the time the fire is going, Jaskier’s scent has molasses mixed in it again, and Geralt lies back and lets him sit in his lap, doing what he pleases to get himself off. They collapse together afterwards, Jaskier sprawled on top of Geralt, trailing nimble fingers, bard’s fingers, over his chest, tracing scars and other inane patterns.

“You have ruined me for all others,” Jaskier says conversationally, dramatic as always. Geralt just grunts in response. “You have! There is no other on this planet—nor any others, I’d imagine—that pleasures me as you do! Is it a witcher talent or is it just you?”

Geralt reaches a hand up to Jaskier’s face, tilting his chin with a finger so that he’s looking in his eyes, and kisses him deep and lingering just to shut him up. Jaskier hums in content and lets himself be kissed.

Geralt figures it’s a decent end to a day that he knew was going to go to shit.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Fanfiction Ask Game

Posting the ba test kitchen ask meme recently, I was reminded that I dislike waiting for people to ask these questions, so again I am just answering in full! This one is by @wornquillsandspilledink, so as always if you want to reblog, please do so from the OP.

A: How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]? Okay, so maybe this one will have to be asked...

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience? Not so much my full fics, but a lot of the tumblr ficlets for sure. They’re a great way to process emotional hardship or confusion. Pretty much anything to do with mental health headcanons are inspired by my personal experience.

C: What member do you identify with most? Lena, for some reason. We have very little in common, but she’s who my heart went “that one” and somehow feels most like my emotional state.

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]? I can officially say that I don’t have any specific playlists to accompany my fics, but I do use playlists to get the mindspace of a fic I’m writing.

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about? this would have to be asked, I guess. I could extrapolate sequels to almost anything, so...

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. Like, anything from Making Waves. It’s the pinnacle of difficult but mature adult conversations.

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order? I try to start with a primary action, from which everything else flows towards the finish. But I do jump around if I find myself struggling with a certain part. 

H: How would you describe your style? Emotional. I tend to write character-driven stories, even when there’s quite a bit of action. It always comes back to the quieter moments where the characters are processing internally.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)? I wouldn’t call it a guilty pleasure, but if I don’t catch myself, I have a tendency to turn ANYTHING into a whump fic. It’s a problem.

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic]. Oooooohh... ask me this one-- if you dare.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with? Y’all will have to tell me. I’ve written a lot of angst, and it’s a stiff competition between character death and a permanent supercorp breakup.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting? Lately? Zero. In my prime I was doing two revisions before posting.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share? Only a hundred billion thousand. 

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you? Noooooo... because that runs the risk of it being done wrong. What I need is for a story to spring fully formed from my brain like Athena emerging from Zeus’ forehead.

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters? I guess it’s characters? But more specifically, it’s usually a single spark of an image or snippet of document around which everything else forms to make it happen.

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?) “Architect or gardener” bish just use plotter or pantster like the rest of us. Shorter bits are pantsed, longer fics are vaguely plotted just to keep on track.

Q: How do you feel about collaborations? I think they are the pinnacle of creative expression. To see two artists working together to manifest a joint vision is just *chefs kiss*

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence? Oooooh... There’s one writer in the stargate fandom that really made me want to step up my game. Rachel500 had an ongoing companion fic that had chapters to accompany every SG-1 episode that read like a goddamn novel. I’ve read it multiple times and was like “that. i want to make stuff like that.”

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist? Whump for sure. Hurt comfort.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand? Certain pet names. In this fandom the worst offender is Maggie Sawyer’s “Little Luthor.” Fck that noise. 

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much. I’m way behind on reading, but I will say that I fall in love with any writer who builds a rich world (often found in the truly amazing alternate time period fics), and is able to really capture an image of the characters that I recognize and identify with.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose? Actually, not really. What I enjoy about reading other fics are hearing other authors�� voices. So there are plenty of fics I’d love to see sequels to many fics, I want it to be a sequel from the original author, because they are what helped made me like it so much.

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones? Depends on the mood. Some are vague, but seem to have something specific in mind, and I have anxiety trying to guess what they’re really after. But there’s something gratifying about truly general prompts where I can just run with it, and maybe turn it on its head.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer. Lena Luthor.

Y: A character you want to protect. Lena Luthor.

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate? I do. Only for characters I like. I can’t tolerate deaths of characters the AUTHOR clearly can’t tolerate. It feels too gleeful, and it’s rare that there’s any kind of emotional fallout for it. If there’s a CD, there BETTER be fallout.

[smolbeandrabbles]

For the fic game: B, F, G and L 💕

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

A lot of my stories can be inspired by situations I’ve been in, or conversations I’ve had or just personal things I would very much like to vent.  But in terms of like, a story that is 100% just me and personal experience given to a character? Diligence. And I can’t read it without hiding, thinking I went too hard and having to bail out.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I’m gonna kinda cop out on this one - because I knew it was either going to be something soppy or romantic. Which I just love hitting people with - and when those lines come to me I’m always like “Take note Future S/O!” or it was going to be from My Baby™.

So, inevitably, I chose this snippet from Sway Pt.1 - 

“Well, apologies for not realising you owned a restaurant on the riviera.” – Damn, that confidence had come out of nowhere, maybe it was the adrenaline but you sure were glad of it. He was clearly amused; “You never exactly asked.” “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly ask for your number either.” “Oh, you remembered I gave it to you, I haven’t seen you try calling it.” “You know girls like to leave guys waiting. Right?” “Not even on the cab ride home?” he shook his head “I thought Friday went down well.” “Would you call a guy that didn’t even give you his name?” “You didn’t seem all that interested in finding out.” You weren’t sure if you were riled or impressed that he was pushing this all back on you. “You seemed pretty good at saying mine.” Your friends switched from staring at him to staring wide eyed at you and you could see them bursting to ask the question. He almost took a physical step back; you were playing him at his own game. He liked you even more now. “Y/N. It’s a good name. I wouldn’t mind saying it more often…” His eyes flicked down the cut of your dress slowly – you’d already guessed that he wanted to pool this one on the floor of his little apartment too…

I think I’m particularly proud of this piece because for once I mixed dialogue and description in equal parts, sometimes I forget that and it’s just person A/person B/ Person A for sentence after sentence! Although they aren’t together at this point in time I wanted to get the banter, and the chemistry, and a sign of their relationship to come. Also when you look at these will they / won’t they conversations in context of the whole story I always feel proud of all the character growth.  It’s just the kinda snark I LOVE writing. And the fun feel of it - which I think kinda reflected my feeling at the time - I just wanted to write something fun that people would enjoy. And like, I can never take away from it that it’s the very first piece I ever posted here. ❤ Also, when you write something with a specific intention and someone gives you feeback like this -  I get the “see hot guy, wanna fuck him, let’s go to my place.” You started Sway like that and I really liked that. But there was a connection there. Both parties were interested and acted on it. How can you not feel proud that what you set out to do actually worked out? 😊🥰

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

OH! This is such a good question. It really depends on how I’m writing something. I can sit down and write something start to finish if I have time and am so inspired, and a lot of my shorter pieces are written in order. Usually if it’s something longer I will type out a framework and then write as scenes come to me. (For example, a lot of my series or over 10K projects are written this way - and I write all the connectors to the big scenes later) Sometimes inspiration may strike and i’ll write a completely random scene that I won’t know where it goes until much later (So could therefore be the beginning or end or whatever of a fic) I try to usually write from start to finish - even when writing my random scenes, I go “this is major scene one” “this is major scene two” and i’ll go back only to write connections.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

😅😅😅😅😅😅 Okay. I rarely, if ever, ‘revise’ a story in terms of deleting scenes or changing anything significant. When I edit however, sometimes I do add quite a lot in to help story flow. In terms of “editing” a fic:

If it’s very short, usually just the once. 

If it’s longer, perhaps 2 or 3 times. But then it depends on how much time I have - sometimes I rush my editing (and I’m sure you can tell!!) and I’ll only give it a quick once over. Half of that is because I have a ‘schedule’ (Sunday/Wednesday) and I like keeping to that. I had a bad run last summer of finishing the fic the night of posting and hardly editing at all. I don’t ever want to do that again! Out Of Nowhere Girl part 2 will always be my darkest hour!

Having said that, some pieces will go through many more rounds of edits until I think they are perfect. Mostly because I had the time to background write them whilst working on other things.  However - A lot of my work needs to be posted before I can actually do my final edits. This may sound really weird. But when I travel to work the morning after I’ve posted a fic I will read it back, and usually I find one or two things that need correcting - that even when editing something again and again I never spotted. And then that evening I’ll go back and fix those corrections Disclaimer: these corrections aren’t always fixed and I need to get in the habit of taking the time to go and edit back all my works Sorry this is SUPER long-! 😅 I guess I really do like talking about my work if people wanna “listen”--!!

[magicdepressive-blog]

Meet The Harveys

NWI native and Chicago resident Charlie Evans wants to introduce you to his one man band The Harveys, whose debut album, after over a year in the making, is nearing the completion stage. As Evans labors through the finishing touches of the LP and prepares it for public release, he sits down with me to talk about the project and tells us what we can expect from his esoteric alter-ego.

HW: You're getting ready to release your first LP; a collection of songs you're putting out under the name The Harveys. But essentially The Harveys is just you. What made you decide to release music as a fictional collective rather than under your own name?

CE: The Harveys isn't a real band right now, so the idea that it can be locked into only one thing doesn't appeal to me since I don't have to fight other people to have it be whatever it needs to be. I’ve never been comfortable with the idea of existing as a solo act. I feel like the idea of the Harveys started as a crutch of being afraid to do this on my own. For whatever reason, the idea of having a fictional band made it seem like a more viable project in my head, and more approachable as something to present out to the world.

HW: But you're not literally the only player on the record. Who else appears on the album, and in what capacity?

CE:  One song is an old one that was written as a group by Patrick Biancardi, Sam Evans, and myself....

HW: Right...that's Werewolf Teacher, isn't it? That's a great song and I remember you telling me that it has its origins in your time as a member of (now defunct Region band) Greenstone.

CE: Greenstone was a great time as a band, and helped form a lot of the stuff that I wrote and created on this album. When I began working on recording I wanted to get an old song down that we had never had the chance to properly record. It was a great point to learn how to use recording software and to test the viability of the fictional band project. A lot of the music I wrote afterwards feels similar in some ways to what we were working on with that project, but definitely is a different animal. Not writing in collaboration with other people or having to compromise things is both a blessing and a curse.

HW: Who are some of the other people who pitched in to help make this LP?

CE: Alex Akers contributed trumpet to I Sit Differently at the Piano. I met Alex while I was working for New Oberpfalz brewery, and we struck up conversation pretty naturally. I had completed about half of the the track, adding in the vocal snippet and guitar, but I felt that guitar all the way through would be frankly boring. I basically asked Alex if he wanted to add trumpet to a weird track that I had made and sent it over. About a week later he sent me his layered tracks and it was amazing! My primary instrument is the electric guitar, so it's always really awesome to work with other instrumentalists that can bring a completely different feel to a track. That song wouldn't work without Alex's contribution. Jake Egli plays the keyboards on The Somnambulist and helped me mix and master the record along with production work.

I'm definitely open to the idea of adding a more collaborative element to The Harveys. I would love to be able to flesh it out into a full band setting. I think a lot of these songs would translate pretty well to a live setting, and there's lots of song ideas in reserve. There's always ego involved in adding other people to a band, but I enjoy the collaborative aspect of writing music a lot. Sometimes it's okay to come in with an idea and see how it gets morphed into something completely new, original, and different that way.

HW: Having grown up as an aspiring musician in NWI and now living in Chicago, can you compare the two locales where musical heritage is concerned?

CE: I would say that both have a lot in common with each other, with Chicago getting the edge of diversity simply through pure numbers. Not unlike most other suburbs of Chicago, NWI filters a lot of its musical identity from Chicago, which I think is great. The Chicagoland area has an abundance of amazing music that doesn't always get the attention it deserves on the national stage.

HW: You recorded this LP at home on your computer. Were there any technical limitations that you encountered while making the record that, had you been in a studio, you might not have had to deal with?

CE: I think the biggest hurdle for doing all recording on my own is that my ear wasn't as trained, especially in the beginning, at what was good and what was bad. I improved rapidly, but especially early on I think that having a 2nd set of ears to hear everything is very helpful.

HW: Why did you decide to release a physical LP and how do you plan to market it? What streaming formats will you be utilizing?

CE: I love the idea and the ritual of vinyl...placing the vinyl on the turntable, setting it to the right speed, and letting the needle hit the record. There’s an art to creating a track list and an album that flows correctly from side to side. I think the best records still work with that duality; breaking it down into two shorter playlists and making sure those statements stand on their own and complement each other. That being said, I think the songs stand on their own, so I don’t mind pushing it to streaming as well where the majority of people (myself included) discover their music. I’m planning on releasing The Harveys on all major streaming services. The LP version of the album will be funded through a Kickstarter.

What I like about the idea of a vinyl release and giving yourself those limitations is that it really forces you to look at how songs flow as a cohesive unit. Balancing the amount of time you can put on a side along with making sure that each track is keeping the listener along for the ride is so important. Additionally, the 2 side nature of vinyl makes you look at it as a mini suite for each side. My process was mostly trying to balance all of these things to make the strongest single unit of an album. Sifting through all the songs I had written to put together what I feel is a cohesive album was a bit difficult at first, there’s definitely enough material left off to have an extra EP in the future or work towards another album. For me, I think the unifying threads that make this album stand as a whole are some of the themes touched on like growing up and the somewhat lonely existence that adulthood can be. There’s plenty of humor on the record, though, as well, which I feel is always needed. I don’t trust people who are too serious about everything. There's a lot of genre exploration that I wasn't able to make work cohesively on this record that could definitely fit in better on a slightly different project. I would love to create a great medley style suite, ala Abbey Road. I'd love to do something soaring, epic, and heartfelt like that.

HW: There are very few recording artists who so confidently pull off such a varied palette as what you've proven capable of on this LP; some that come to mind as exceptions are Ween and Captain Beefheart and Zappa and Guided By Voices. Were any of those artists a lighthouse for you while you were crafting these songs?

CE: All those bands and artists are huge influences, Ween in particular. Reading and getting into Ween was a huge part of what made me finally get off my butt and start making music again. The independent spirit that drove each of these artists to create despite not necessarily having the big push of a label was a huge inspiration. Learning about Ween using a drum machine and writing silly songs and just generally not caring what other people thought of them was a liberating idea, and also made my excuses for why I wasn’t doing anything seem like just that: excuses.

HW: Speaking of tracks that DIDN'T make the record, Feed Me, Human is one of your standout songs and I feel like it exists in a world of its own stylistically; some kind of avant garde heavy metal oddity...definitely something I haven't heard before. Is metal a big part of your musical tastes, and if so what can you tell me about this track? It sort of skirts a strange territory that's both playful and sinister.

CE: I love metal! Metal as a genre is so tongue in cheek, and I love that about it. I never trust any metal band that takes themselves 100% seriously. I remember reading a story that Adam Jones from Tool told about how when he met Buzz Osbourne from the Melvins he told him that Boris was his favorite song and was a foundation for a lot of how he built his songwriting and sound, and Buzz responded something along the lines of, "Thanks, it's about my cat." Metal is so great because it can occupy both territories of sinister and silly.

HW: Let's focus on what did make the album. Metropolitan Malaise is unabashed power pop exuberance; Hydration is Key is a blissed out, psychedelic signal from another galaxy. You cover Big Star's 1972 acoustic masterpiece 13, and then there's the aforementioned I Sit Differently at the Piano; four minutes of Badalementi-esque guitar and trumpet noodling atop which sits a bizarre sampling of an interview with a mental patient from the early 60s. The Funkalator struts and swaggers with ballsy, bell bottomed moxie, and Werewolf Teacher is textbook singer-songwriter gold. And that's just HALF the album. But maybe the standout track here is The Somnambulist, a disarming number that begins with a tribal, measured acoustic bounce before exploding into a veritable roman candle of life-affirming guitar-fueled adrenaline.

CE: I'm particularly proud of The Somnambulist. It has the most overdubs of any track, and took me the longest to assemble out of any of them. I'm particularly proud of my vocal performance, which incubated in my head for a pretty long time, and took even longer to build up the ability to properly sing. It's the classic rock track I always wanted to write.

HW: What's your writing process like? What do you find is the most challenging part of the formula?

CE: Wake up, make some coffee pick up my guitar and start playing something...pulling up Garageband and a virtual drummer and see if I can get anything useful out of it. Record it, and see if there’s enough there to develop. Sometimes there's something good there for a full song, sometimes there isn't. I built a lot of songs on the fly, and would do multiple takes of things to see what worked or didn’t work. Having a good feedback network of people to send songs to certainly helped as well to guide the directions that were working and not working in the music. I think the most challenging thing for me with this project was not really working with other musicians to create. If I wanted to finish the song, it was on me!  

HW: I really appreciate you taking the time to offer a little insight into what we can expect from The Harveys. I really think you've assembled a great collection of songs and I'm really looking forward to the vinyl.

CE: I think the biggest thing I’m hoping to offer is a bit of a blast of nostalgia that isn’t hopefully too derivative. Power pop and dad rock have reached the level of being uncool, but I still love making it. I’m hoping that I can bring some uncool music to people and hopefully get them to dig into the same things I love too.  I was talking with Jake while we were mixing and mastering and we both said waiting for lightning to strike will involve you mostly waiting. It’ll happen, and does happen, but you have to work at it no matter what.

-End-

The debut LP from The Harveys will be available soon pending a Kickstarter. Please stay tuned to Charlie's Facebook page for more info and show your support for this gifted musician. You can stream the unmixed demo of Metropolitan Malaise on Bandcamp here:

https://theharveysarentreal.bandcamp.com/track/metropolitan-malaise

Album art by Grace Calderone, 2019. Bar photos by Harvey Woodlawn, 2018.

[benscursedkid]

Okay, for the questions!!! 8, 16, 21, and 37? :>

thanks mori! hope they don’t put you to sleep! 🤙💙

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“I don’t really see you around the building too much,” You start, examining the nutrition labels of your items with suspicious interest. “Is this where you always run off to?”

Ben shakes his head, going a little slower on ringing up your –groceries?– things. “Ah, not all the time. Most of my time is actually spent at the library, I hardly do anything but study these days.”

“Oh, you attend college here?”

“Yeah,” He’s still a little unnerved, but he’s significantly pleased with how easy conversation flows with you. “I knew going for a double major was a bad idea…”

The exert above is from my first fic on this blog, Must Have Been The Wind. Now, this fic is very special to me for multiple reasons, one of which being that it’s probably one of my only fics that I am truly and genuinely proud of. The reason I chose these particular lines of dialogue is because I tried to build the characters of modern!Ben and Reader through them. I personally feel that, if done right, dialogue is a really good way to “show not tell” and establish characters and their key/common traits without feeling like you’re just shoving the information down the audience’s throats.

From this specific passage, we learn that Ben attends the local college, he often spends most of his free time studying at the library instead of their apartment complex, and that he’s a struggling double major student all while being introduced to a new story setting that before has only been mentioned in passing. It’s also the first real conversation he’s had with the reader, the other main character of the fic. I also tried my best to make the conversation flow and show that Ben’s interested without hindering his shy and anxious tendencies and characteristics. Normally, I would never “toot my own horn” so to speak, as I feel there is still a lot for me to learn and room for me to improve, but again, I’m just really very happy with how this fic turned out in the end.

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Okay, so this really depends but I will try to cut to the chase for this question.

In General: x Reader fics— I feel that the possibilities for these pairs are truly endless, but technically that’s not a specific pairing.

In HPHM Fandom: Ben x Reader— Okay so I’m definitely biased on this one, but Ben is truly a very dynamic and unfortunately very under appreciated character and I feel like you can really do a lot with him.

Outside HPHM: Caroline Forbes x Klaus Mikaelson from TVD (Klaroline) –or– Barry Allen x Caitlin Snow from The Flash (Snowbarry)— I started TVD when it was in season 3 and immediately feel in love with these two. I waited approximately six years for them to be endgame only to be bamboozled when he died in the end. Snowbarry, on the other hand, is a completely different ship with a vibe so opposite from Klaroline it’s insane. They are my new Klaroline. I’ve since stopped watching the show since I can hardly stand a key character who is always upfront and the plot lines are getting weaker and more absurd, but I’m still pulling for them. Unfortunately though, the likelihood of these two pulling a fast one on me and getting together seems to be more bleak than Klaroline’s was. *Heavy dramatic sigh*

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Only about once or twice depending on the fic. I’m a perfectionist, so I will at least always go through it once when I think it’s all done to catch mistakes, discrepancies, or other things I might like to fix, add, or reword. But once I do that, I tend not to waste any more time before posting it.

37. Talk about your current wips.

oof mori you sneaky sNakE–

So, I’ve been turning over two of the holiday prompts for about two or three weeks now. I’ve honestly entirely rewritten one of them three times already and am still only in the beginning stages and nowhere near completion. However, I think I’m going to go with something much shorter than originally planned and see how that works. Fourth time’s the charm, right? 😅 Also, there’s not really much I can say considering the requester asked to be surprised so... yeah?

So so terribly sorry, but I haven’t even gotten to your Badeea x Reader holiday prompt yet but I swear it will see it’s day before Christmas!

My Top Secret-Secret Santa fic. It’s coming along pretty well, I just need to make time to finish it. Also not a lot I can disclose at the moment, in case of prying ears but I quite like how it’s turned out thus far!

A Ben x Reader fic set during the second Wizarding War where Ben has to go into hiding from the ministry because of the whole ‘hunting muggle-borns thing’ and Reader can’t let him do it alone so they accompany him... no house or gender specific reader like always, still in planning stages though.

More recently, a Talbott x Reader fic set after graduating Hogwarts. With both of them having very different ideas for what their future might look like, they end up breaking things off the save themselves from more pain in the long run. Talbott goes and becomes an auror while the MC runs off to sort themselves out, traveling the world alone to try and find their answers. They weren’t sure if they’d ever see each other again but it seems fate was rather decided on the matter. Alternatively Titled: Four Times You Said Goodbye and One Time You Didn’t

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Love So Sweetly” (Part 1 of 2) (au)

Summary: If you ask either of them, they’ll both claim it isn’t their fault. It starts with feuding musicians, a pair of handcuffs, and the evolution a relationship can go through over the course of 24 hours. 

Rating: E

Warnings: handcuffs? 

A/N: Hello, friends. Can we talk about how fucking difficult it is to figure out the logistics of how two people would move while handcuffed together, and then to put those movements into words that other people will understand? Pain in the ass, but I hope y’all enjoy this. This was started almost three years ago for AU Week 2016, and I posted a snippet, and then never got back to it. Thanks to @xemmaloveskillianx​ for making @csmarchmadness​ so I could get back on this and finish it up. Except, of course, for the cosmic joke that is my life... It’s not finished yet. This is part 1 of 2. I will get Part 2 done as soon as I possibly can, because the end is so near I can taste it!!

And again, thanks to the whole CS March Madness Discord for being so damn lovely. I was so lucky to have you all cheering me on and entertaining me, caring when I needed that little bit of extra care (and advice), and just being all around excellent people. And a hearty thank you to my beta, @captainstudmuffin​, for finding all the shit I overlooked a thousand times. 

Find it on Ao3 or FFN!

-x-

The Storybrooke Music Festival has been a staple of Almost-Middle-of-Nowhere, Maine for longer than most people that attend it can remember. The tradition of the gathering, in some cases, has been passed down from generation to generation, where the kids of the rockers and attendees are now the ones rocking and attending, and this year is no different from any other.

From all around the country, bands have flocked after being invited to play – some are bigger names, some smaller, some lost in the between. Some are one-hit-wonders and others have topped the pop charts for months at a time. The thing they all have in common: they’ve gathered here because their fans nominated them and the committee voted to invite them.

Over the span of a few acres, there’s a main stage and two smaller ones, with a sprawling campground surrounding the whole thing. And then there’s the vendors and merch stands, the specialty shops that have paid to set up. During the few days that the festival takes place, it’s anybody’s guess who will be there, where the weather will fall, and what will happen.

It’s early summer, but in their particular location, that still means a pop up storm or two. The days are warm, but without the drought of mid-summer, the paths that are marked for walking are quickly turning runny with mud, which normally would be fine. Normally.

“Well, princess maybe if you didn’t want a little mud on the tires, so to speak, you should’ve avoided the music festival ring! If the lowlands here are so offensive to you, perhaps you should get back to your pampered mansion back up on the hill.” Ignore the fact that he can also access the VIP tents as a musician, but it’s the principle of the matter…

None of the parties involved remember how this all started, besides the fact that Killian Jones, one half of the small-time Hook & Crook, fell in front of the golf cart that Emma Swan and Ruby Lucas, two thirds of The Ugly Ducklings, were riding in while one of the web media teams interviewed them. To be more precise, he fell on the hood of the golf cart, after he slipped in a slick spot of mud. The hit to the hood did something, however, and now the two woman are standing outside the cart as the media team struggles to get it working again, while Emma and Killian snipe back and forth at each other.

“It’s not the mud I’m mad about. I would happily get the hell away from you if you hadn’t stalled out our damn ride, though. Why weren’t you paying attention? You could’ve gotten seriously injured, you know.” Her finger is jabbing into his chest, belying the message she was spouting off.

“Careful love, you might make a man think you cared with such impassioned speeches,” Killian tells her, toe to toe, boot to boot, in front of the stalled out cart in question. That his are knock off from a secondhand store and hers are knee high genuine leather matters little to either of them, now. He sways into her space in a tantalizing way, his arrogance getting the better of him in this situation.

In retaliation, Emma straightens to her full height. Despite being shorter than him by almost half a foot, Killian swallows. It’s not her star power. He knows damn well who Emma Swan is. He won’t admit to the tracks he listens to in his downtime, with Emma’s voice conducting his mood like a bloody maestro without even trying.

No, Emma is a powerhouse without having to stand behind her fame.

Keeping up the façade of cocksure, he knows that whatever her next move is will be the finishing blow. She opens her mouth to tear into him, but a high-pitched honking causes them to snap out of it. He actually releases the tiniest of relieved breaths after the interruption, after Emma jolts away from him, thankful that she didn’t have a chance to use that legendary sharp tongue on him. He thinks himself a proud man, but he’s not sure even he could take getting verbally filleted by one of his celebrity crushes.

“What seems to be the problem here?” The woman is one Killian has seen around the festival since the gates opened the day before. She’s older, gray hair loosely pinned in a bun and glasses hanging around her neck from a beaded chain.

“Granny!” Ruby rushes at the older woman with a bright smile. “I was wondering where you were hiding.”

“Goodness, child, there’s been no hiding involved. I’ve just been keeping feuding rock stars in line. Speaking of, this looks like some trouble.”

“It’s nothing, Ms. Lucas,” Emma says, her whole demeanor softening to the obviously familiar newcomer.

“You know to call me Granny, dear! And this doesn’t look like nothing,” she says, motioning between Emma and Killian. “This is a festival to bring all kinds of musicians together. Emma, you know that better than most since this was your first break, right?” Granny takes one of Emma’s hands in her own, smiling fondly at the blonde.

She turns to Killian next, looking him up and down once and giving him an appreciative grin.

“You look like a tall glass of trouble. You boys harassing my girls?”

“Not at all, ma’am. Just a mild stumble that began a misunderstanding,” Killian says, laying the charm thick by grabbing her free hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Mhmm, well, mild misunderstandings are solved easily enough,” she says. “I have just the thing.”

“Granny?”

There’s something in the tone of Ruby’s voice that catches his attention, and he turns to see the slightly horrified look on her face. With speed he would’ve never credited the older woman to possess, he certainly doesn’t have time to stop her before he feels the cool metal snap around his left wrist. He looks down in confusion at the chain, following the line of it to where it’s connected to the other cuff, which is now locked in place around Emma’s right wrist. When Granny managed to pass his hand over to Emma’s instead of her own is beyond him, but the older woman is moving swiftly away from them, a grin on her face.

“What – “

“Granny, you can’t!”

                                                                                                                     “Let’s see how that works for you two! Now get along and maybe I’ll take them off!”

Faster than anyone can react, Granny is back on the cart that brought her to them and she’s speeding away. Ruby runs after her, followed by Robin, who’ve both figured out that their bandmates have just been handcuffed together.

Killian and Emma, however, are still rooted in place, disbelief painted on both their faces. They make eye contact, the reality of their predicament slamming into them at the same time before they look at their rapidly disappearing freedom.

“Wait!” they call out at the same time, taking off sprinting as a unit.

How Granny manages to disappear into the crowd so quickly is beyond all of them. Of course, she does have the advantage of being on wheels where the rest of them are all on foot. It feels like they’ve been running and searching for miles, all while the crowd ebbs and flows around them.

The only thing they can really do is head back to the VIP tents with a quick flash of their badges. There’s beer waiting from them, handed over from multiple angles, and Emma and Killian both take one in their free hands and greedily gulp from the clear plastic.

“Any luck contacting Granny?” Emma asks when she’s halfway through the beer. She looks down at her boots and sniffs once in annoyance. They’re not covered, by any means, but he’s guessing she had no intentions of getting them dirty at all. His have about the same amount on them, but he’s eternally grateful that he didn’t fall in front of the cart, because he cannot imagine trying to clean up while Emma is with him. Or change, for that matter.

“None. She must not have her phone on and none of the techs will let me contact her on the walkie.”

“I’m going to kill her. You know that, right?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that,” Ruby mutters, sipping from her cup.

As they all settle in, assessing what to do next, Killian sits back and observes the people around him. The other women, he knows, are Mary Margaret and Ruby, and there’s another one off to the side on her cellphone, the stern set of her face speaking of management.

“Regina,” Emma says, catching where his line of sight is trained. “She’s our manager. She’s trying to track down bolt cutters or something. Ruby texted her on our way back up here.”

“Ah, well. Hopefully she’ll succeed. I cannot imagine having to be stuck this way for much longer.”

“You and me both, pal.”

“Killian,” he says, holding out his right hand. “Killian Jones.”

She stares at his outstretched hand for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face, before she finally relaxes and lifts her right hand as much as she can, given their situation. “Emma Swan.”

“I’m sorry for the spat earlier,” he tells her, honesty at the forefront. He genuinely can’t remember who started hurling insults first but it was bad form, all around.

Emma fidgets a little, her eyes looking anywhere but at him. “Same. It’s uh, been a long day already and the weather isn’t helping.” He knows that all too well. The temperamental showers passing through have been hell since he and Robin left New York.

Whatever Killian goes to say next is cut off when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He releases her hand to dig it out and opens the message from their friend-but-also-manager, David, who they may or may not have forgotten about in the interim.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Killian says, scrambling to chug the rest of his beer and motion to Robin. “We play in half an hour. We’ve got to get over to our stage. Now.” He’s not sure how he let the time slip away from him so fast; he’s been looking forward to nothing but this set for ages.

“What? Hey, you’re attached to someone, you know. Go easy on the tugging.”

He looks down at where he’s clearly moved without thought again, noticing at the same time that there are dual red marks on their wrists from where the metal has dug into their skin. “Please, Swan, don’t make me beg. We barely lucked into this slot, and if we don’t play then we won’t get invited back.”

Emma stares at him for the length of ten heartbeats, and then she sighs. “Fine. Let’s get going. This should be interesting.”

The trek from the musicians’ tent to the stage where Hook & Crook are supposed to play is not an easy one. For both being musically inclined, and thus, coordinated enough to play instruments, they’re both incredibly clumsy when attached to another person. The number of times they yank each other in separate directions is somewhere in the twenties by the time they reach their destination (and right on time, thankfully). Killian is convinced that they will kill each other if the cuffs aren’t removed in a timely fashion.

To say the crowd is a bit surprised at the appearance of one Emma Swan on stage is a bit of an understatement, as they first gasp in surprise, then cheer wildly when she raises her right hand (along with his left) in greeting to wave at them all.

“We seem to be the victims of a cruel and unusual social experiment,” Killian tells the audience when they get settled. His voice booms out among the audience thanks to the amplifiers, even if they aren’t as big as the ones Emma will be plugged into tomorrow on the main stage. He’s damn proud of their attendance, so now it’s important to make the performance match.

It takes Killian all of two seconds to realize the biggest oversight yet, just as soon as he goes to pick up his guitar. He realizes it’s a problem, of course, because Emma’s hand goes with his.

“Shit,” she whispers, at the same time much less pleasant words are coming from his mouth.

“What do we do?” Try as he might, there’s panic licking up his spine and bloody hell would it be so much easier if he played the keyboard or something.

“I have an idea,” she tells him, picking his darling guitar up by the neck and turning to face him for a minute. After making sure the shoulder strap is in place and his hands are where they’re supposed to be, Emma supports her hand on his forearm and otherwise turns so she’s partially behind him. It’s awkward, feeling someone standing close, and her hand will no doubt get tired, but holding it the way she is means he still has complete freedom to move his hand to play. He strums a few chords just to make sure it’ll work and gives her a look and a thumbs up.

He does his best to forget about the woman literally attached to him, which is a little hard at first. But then the music kind of takes over, as it always has with him, and he’s lost in the set list he and Robin have played for years; this is what he works for year round – this opportunity to play for this crowd, some of whom have followed their little duo for years.

To his surprise, Emma doesn’t get tired of where her hand rests, even tapping along to the beat with her thumb. After three songs, she presses her back against his and starts swaying back and forth behind him, compelling him to move as well. It becomes difficult to remain solely focused on the song he’s playing when he can feel her shimmying against him.

“It seems as though our unexpected guest likes my music,” Killian says into the microphone, turning his head just enough to smile at her as she looks over his shoulder. The crowd cheers again, and they launch into their next song, one the audience clearly knows well enough that he feels pride welling in his chest when they sing along. He knows their time is running out, but he lets the buzz of performing wash over him, enjoying the way Emma is still moving to the beat at his back.

Their last song is a crowd favorite, so while he gives the audience a moment to sing the lyrics back to him – the ones he spent hours getting just right – he takes the time to appreciate just where he is, almost forgetting about the handcuff on his wrist, and the argument from earlier. With the final notes, the crowd starts cheering and whistling, and he smiles as he leans towards the mic to thank them again for their time.

The coordinator to the side of the stage waves to get his attention, and Killian glances over expecting to see the gesture for wrapping up. Instead, he grins wide when he sees the girl asking him to stretch their set by just one more song. They’re out of songs that are ready for performance, so he’ll have to think up something quick.

“We have time for one more song, and I think we should let this one choose the tune,” Killian says, using the chain that connects them to pull Emma back around to stand next to him. She groans and rolls her eyes, but glances back at Robin. With a thumbs-up from him, she looks to Killian and raises her eyebrows.

There’s a heavy pause, one in which she’s clearly thinking of the right song that they’ll both know.

“Hold your hand up,” Emma tells him, and without further preamble, she stomps her foot twice on the stage, followed by a high five for the clap that should follow. She repeats the motion a couple times to the audience, getting them to join in with a little help from Robin, before she reaches for the mic. She keeps up the double foot stomps but lets the crowd do the claps.

He idolizes Freddie Mercury, and appreciates the way Adam Lambert sings the lyrics of the famous Queen song, but he finds he’s instantly attracted to the way Emma’s voice sounds singing the opening lines of “We Will Rock You.”

Without discussing it beforehand, they perfectly switch off between stanzas, singing the chorus together. Killian is no Brian May, but he manages a guitar solo that makes the crowd go wild as Emma stamps her foot through the end of it. The applause is a level of deafening that Killian has never heard before, having drawn even more of a crowd than they normally would’ve with those passing by who heard the song. And while they take their bows at the end and exit the stage, he knows it won’t be soon that his adrenaline wears down.

Just as they’re giving a final wave, he spots Granny on the outskirts, looking something like proud. Instead of pulling away and letting the chain drag Emma along, he grabs her hand, yelling out to Robin that he’ll meet him later if this works, and they take off running. At the stage entrance, he holds still long enough for David to unstrap his guitar. He gives one quick “Thanks, mate!” before they’re off again, running and hoping.  

By the time they reach where the older woman just was, the spot is vacated, and the audience is trying to clamor around them for autographs and pictures.

“Which way did she go?” Emma’s yelling to be heard over everyone else, both of them on their tiptoes to try to see if they can spot her.

“I couldn’t tell,” Killian says, his defeated tone obvious as he turns back to her. “Should we?” The circle around them is closing fast, and they either need to break out while they still can or resign themselves to signing and smiling for a bit while the stage changes set ups.

As if noticing the people around them for the first time, Emma’s face goes from fallen to smiling. She looks at him, shrugging a little and reaching for the nearest autograph book and pen that someone’s holding out. His hand jerks along with hers, and they look at each other and sigh.

The rain that falls just a few minutes later is a blessing, because they can finally slip away as everyone else scatters at the same time. With no sense of direction, they start running, and Killian is thankful for the open yurt he sees just ahead, especially when thunder rumbles ominously much closer than he expected. He pulls Emma in just as the rainfall turns to a total deluge, and lightning flashes brightly.

By now, they’re likely postponing shows and getting festival goers to safety, so there’s no chance they’ll be moving before the storm passes, and no chance they’ll find Granny in the meantime. Other than to check the weather outside, the occupants of the yurt barely pay attention to them as newcomers. There are blankets covering the whole floor, in a circle around a young woman with an acoustic guitar, and as someone stands to close the doors on the weather outside, Killian leads Emma further in along the curved wall. They find an empty spot to settle down, both shivering from the moisture that’s soaked through their clothes.

A young woman with a mane of fiery red hair hands Killian a blanket. Her eyebrows go up and she stifles laughter when she sees the handcuffs. He’s not one to blush, and yet he feels his cheeks heating in response to whatever this woman is imagining. He opens his mouth to explain, to defend his honor, whatever – but the quiet applause for the woman playing in the center of the room cuts him off, and the woman with the blankets wanders away.

Emma smiles at him gratefully as he hands her one end of the soft fleece. Working together, they manage to get it around their shoulders, huddling close to get the most out of the material.

In between songs, he finds time to ask. “How are you holding up, Swan?”

“I’ve been better, Jones. I’ve been better. Hey um, thanks for including me in your set. That was a lot of fun.”

“Aye. I’d wager the crowd loved it just as much,” he notes. He wants to say more, to tell her how much he’s enjoyed this little adventure they’re on together. He wants to tell her how much he loves her music, and that he’s been a fan for ages. That he never meant to let their meeting escalate the way it did. She’s looking at him, her eyes darting between his, as if she’s reading his mind and can hear the words he can’t seem to speak. The set in the yurt continues, so he resigns himself to a tight-lipped smile and a nod, which she accepts with a small bob of her head. He unconsciously presses a little closer to her, not realizing how she returns the movement.

It’s several songs later that they notice the sounds from outside the yurt have quieted down, and they fold the blanket and leave it where they were sitting. Emma makes sure to snag one of the cards and demo discs that are sitting out on a small table near the entrance, something Killian failed to notice on his way in. Then again, he was mostly concerned with finding dry and safe and warm at that moment.

The long trek back to the musicians’ tent is spent in amiable silence. Neither are thirsting for conversation, but it’s not the same hostile silence they had at the beginning of this day. Someone slams into Killian, though, and the quick jolt to their wrists is enough for Killian to grab her hand again, leading her over to a merch stand somewhere halfway between where they were and where they’re going. He chooses two wrist bands at random, handing over the money and turning back to Emma before she can even question what he’s doing.

“Here, should make things a little better.” He holds one out for Emma, waiting until she’s wiggled hers on with a relieved hum before he does the same. The cold metal is no longer digging into his skin, which is the most important factor. “Shall we?”

They weave their way back to the musicians’ tent, stepping as carefully as they can through the mud that’s starting to form faster with the sudden rainfall. He’s used to festivals being a little rougher than indoor shows, so he does his best to keep his eyes on the ground and guide them through the worst of it.

When they get back to their destination, Ruby is engaged in conversation with another woman, and Killian immediately notices a disturbing pattern of managers looking very smitten with band members, or vice versa. Robin might have actual hearts in his eyes as he listens to something Regina is saying. Meanwhile, David and Mary Margaret look like they’re about five minutes from planning their wedding.

Killian looks at Emma, who looks back at him with a similar expression. She shakes her head, working her way over to where they’re all sitting and throwing her hands up in victory as their friends all turn and cheer for them.

“Where the bloody hell have you been, mate?” Robin claps him on the shoulder, and Killian would buy his concern if it weren’t for the fact that he’s sure Robin forgot he existed for a bit, there.

“We tried to track down Granny,” Emma explains. “But we were too late. Then got mobbed by fans. Then got stuck in a storm. Then ended up in a tent listening to an acoustic show.”

“Sounds like you two have had quite the adventure,” Ruby comments, her grin directed at Emma and looking something along the lines of predatory, if he had to put a name to it.

Emma hums in response, eyes narrowing as she looks at her friend. Whatever conversation they have between themselves during that moment, it’s something Killian isn’t meant to understand. Instead, he focuses on checking his social media accounts with the phone that David has returned over to him. He’d plum forgotten that he’d given it to Dave before they started their set.

He’s surprised when the biggest trending picture from the festival is one from Ruby’s account. There he is on stage, glancing over his shoulder at Emma behind him, she who has her eyes closed and is clearly mid-dance move against his back. It’s taken from the backstage area, and he didn’t even realize Ruby bothered to follow them, but he’s going to have to thank her for it later, and get the original sent his way so he can frame it and hang it up. It’s not every day you get to play a show handcuffed to someone you view as an idol. But there was the living proof of that.

“I can’t just sit here,” Ruby announces not more than ten seconds after his thoughts. “Let’s go explore!”

-x-

As far as ideas go, Ruby could have better ones sometimes. For one, she could be tracking down her heinous grandmother (who she would never claim is actually heinous in any other circumstance – the woman practically helped raise her, after all) to get a certain key to a certain set of handcuffs. She could be walking back to Storybrooke’s town limits to find her own spare key, for all Emma cares. But no, instead, her friend and bandmate is talking about how she’s apparently bored.

“Uh, Red? I’m kind of… stuck to someone.”

“So what? We bring him along. And any of the others that want to join?” She looks around at their strange group as she says it.

“Wait, wait. That’s it? You don’t have any other back up plans? A hairpin? A lock pick set? A good set of bolt cutters?” The whole group turns to look at Emma’s outburst, but no one says a word.

“I mean, you can try. But I swear those things are made of magic. They’re the only pair I was never able to bust out of without the key.”

The fact that Ruby’s been stuck in these cuffs, or that she’d been stuck in other pairs of cuffs, is no surprise to her, but it doesn’t facilitate a reaction with anyone in the circle either. Where did she find these people?

“So, we going?”

Mary Margaret visibly brightens as Ruby draws attention to her plan. “You’ll come, too?” she asks David. Ugh, even Mary Margaret has forsaken her. She knows David by reputation only; she’s met him a couple times and even likes him, but she knows that as soon as the manager turns a hopeful look towards Killian, they’re all apparently going gallivanting around the music festival.

“I guess that can be arranged. Now that Hook & Crook are done for the day, there’s really not much else for me to do,” David finally says after a wordless conversation with Killian.

“I’ll sit this one out,” Regina says, clearly taking on the air of Important Manager of an Important Musical Act.

“Count me out,” Robin says following her declaration. “I’ve had quite enough excitement for a bit.”

“Suit yourself,” Ruby says, clearly dismissing him and turning back to the rest of the crew. “Come on. There’s a Ferris wheel with my name on it.” Without further prompting, she grabs Emma’s hand and starts dragging her away. Killian isn’t quick enough to move, so his shoulder gets jolted again before Emma grabs his hand and pulls him along. She makes sure to murmur an apology to him as they exit the tent, and his quiet reply starts her heart beating like it was when they were on stage together.

That’s quite enough of those emotions, though. She’s been back and forth on the emotional spectrum since this morning, and really, some cliché pitter patter of her heart is just one step too far. So she had fun with him performing. So he’s easy on the eyes. So what? So are plenty of other men, and she’s certainly not about to one-night-stand a guy she’s literally stuck to. That just feels like asking for the key to be lost or the handcuffs to be rotted shut and then they’re just living out their days: the losers who got stuck handcuffed together and had sex once. Nope. No thanks.

Okay, so that’s a little hyperbolic, even for her. But she’s noticing that she’s getting used to the feeling of his hand in hers, and the sound of his voice as he quietly asks about the newest joiner of their group.

At the head of the pack, Ruby walks side by side with Mulan, who Emma points out to Killian as Ruby’s girlfriend. She does casual security for them as they walk through festivals such as this, so it’s Mulan who clears the path for them to walk through, herding them easily enough through the crowds and making sure they have enough space at all times. It’s clear Killian is out of his comfort zone – while he seemed to have a great amount of his own followers at their show and afterwards, and even as they sift through the crowd, he doesn’t look like he’s used to this large mass of people clambering to get selfies or autographs. Mostly, he just keeps hold of her hand and does his best to keep up.

That’s not to say they don’t stop for some of the fans. There are quite a few times where the three women just can’t ignore the people around them, and Mulan sighs in mock frustration (a smile on her face the whole time) as they linger with fans for a couple minutes at a time, trying to cover as many people as possible. They have a reputation (Emma especially) for trying to get to everyone, and so Mulan is hard on her to move along after an allotted amount of time.

What does come as a surprise is the amount of people who ask for pictures of Emma and Killian together, their handcuffed wrists held up like some kind of publicity stunt or punishment depending on what people ask. He tries to keep up with it all, and Emma gives him a quick smile before they keep moving again towards Ruby’s ride of choice.

“How’re you holding up?” she asks as they get escorted to the front of the line. There are some tiny perks to their ‘fame’ if she says so herself.

“Better than expected. That is, it’s not every day you wind up handcuffed to some beautiful celebrity and find out how the other half lives.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as the carriage comes to a stop in front of where they’re standing. All six of them load in, and Emma tries to keep her wayward emotions in check as she ends up pressed tight against Killian’s side.

The whole grounds of the festival stretch before them, with the stages visible out one side and what feels like miles of camp grounds all around them. There are other rides, ones she doesn’t think they’ll be able to handle with two people trapped together, but she smiles as she watches them cycle through, the thrilled screams of passengers filtering all the way up to them at the top.

As the wind whips around them, Emma glances at her companions in turn. Understandably, Ruby and Mulan are huddled together, with Ruby’s arm wrapped around Mulan’s shoulders and their cheeks pressed together as they look out at their surroundings. David and Mary Margaret are holding hands, a new development judging by the nervous smiles on their faces, and they’re glancing between each other and the view. Killian, however, is looking at her. As soon as she looks back at him, he darts his eyes to the side to look out at the landscape, but there’s a hint of smile on his lips while his hair dances in the breeze. She is very aware of how tightly she’s gripping his hand, unnecessary while they’re not in motion but habit now, nonetheless.

When the ride is over, they slowly disembark to a bunch of fans waiting. The crowds at the festival aren’t quite mob mentality, so it’s something they can handle and enjoy – these small groups that just want a small introduction and a moment to say their thanks. While she may have a few more fans trying to capture her attention, Killian still has a few things to sign and fans to greet while Emma is preoccupied with her own. She smiles when she catches sight of him talking with a smitten teenage girl, enjoying the way he’s so genuine with the people around them.

To be honest, after hearing him play, she wants to look him up online, find his albums, find out who he is without… you know… talking to him. Because that’s how she is. If she asks him questions, she’ll have to answer some of the ones he has for her, and that’s not how she does things. What’s weirder is that this whole scenario should be in the realm of “SOS immediately” in trying to get him unstuck from her, but Emma can’t help but slowly adjust to it all. Is this an ideal way to meet a man? Hell no. Is she going to make the most of it? It certainly seems that way.

As Mulan starts to move them along the path again, Emma’s stomach makes a loud growl, and it’s the first time she realizes how hungry she is. “Where the hell can we find some food?” she wonders, grabbing Killian’s hand and pulling him away from the departing fans. “You okay?”

She’s very aware, all of a sudden, that they are alone again somehow. He hasn’t said anything for a minute or two and the silence is suddenly unusual coming from him. But then he shakes his head and smiles at her, blaming his momentary lapse on his own lack of food.

“Pretty sure there’s loads of places we can find something to eat, love. Let’s sail away,” he responds, swinging their hands as they go along.

There was something there she just missed, and she can feel it. There’s something he’s not saying, a lie by some kind of omission, covered up by hunger, but when her stomach rumbles away again, she forces down that part of her that can sniff out a lie like a drug-seeking dog and focuses instead on food options.

They wander from stand to stand, weighing their options and discussing pros and cons of the various food choices. As they go along, she relaxes again and finds that she’s enjoying herself way too much. It’s not often that Emma finds herself calm in the company of a relative stranger. No – usually, when it’s outside of her fans, her skin crawls at the very prospect of spending any time with someone she doesn’t know.

Add in the fact that she is handcuffed (she feels as if she cannot emphasize this enough) to said stranger… well, let’s just say that Killian Jones is lucky there wasn’t anything pointy or stabby in near reach when Granny first locked the cuffs around their wrists.

Every moment since then has been a learning experience. It took more self-control than she thought it would to be teeth-grittingly polite after their initial predicament became clear to them. But man, as soon as that bravado, tough guy act faded away, Killian has been nothing but sweet and accommodating.

“Swan, onion rings,” he says, suddenly dispelling her thoughts again as he says the most magical words someone could ever say to her. “And frozen hot chocolates.”

“I don’t know about the frozen thing. I’m already starting to get chilly again,” she says. And it’s true. She’d left her jacket in the VIP tent when they went out for their interview, but the day had been sunny and glorious to start out. Now, with the sun setting and another round of clouds moving in, she shivers. It turns out leggings and a fitted t-shirt don’t do much, especially after a good soaking from the earlier rain.

Killian halts her progress towards the food stand for a quick detour to a small merch tent nearby. The young man running it looks like he has about a thousand safety pins attached to his outfit, and a surly look on his face. But when Killian waves a twenty, the kid’s whole demeanor changes. “This for the largest size of the goth Tinkerbell jumpers, and another if you give me all the extra safety pins you can find, along with a pair of scissors.”

Emma raises an eyebrow at his request, but Felix, as he introduces himself, grabs the items Killian has requested in record time and piled them on the sticker-covered table in front of the stand. When Killian goes to cut the side of the hoodie, Emma’s stomach reminds her that she’s starving and she throws in her own money. “I’ll give you an extra twenty if you cut that and wait for us to get back.”

Suddenly, Felix goes bashful. “I’ll do it for free if you sign an autograph for my cousin. She’s the model for the logo there, and she’s one of your biggest fans.”

“Deal. Just let me grab my food and we’ll be right back,” Emma says, smiling in victory as she pulls Killian over to the food stand he’d already spotted. They come back to Felix’s tent after Emma is already halfway through her onion rings, with a grilled cheese and two waters in the bag Killian is holding. After Emma holds up her end of the bargain, making sure to also promise a selfie with the cousin in question if she’s around the following day, Felix even helps them with the makeshift outerwear, diligently pinning the top seam he cut after realizing it would be easier for her to step into it instead of pull it over.

Encased in the soft, fleecy material, and having been fed, Emma is far more comfortable than she has been since she woke up this morning. Of course, that brings a whole new predicament. How the hell are they going to sleep? Because surely, they’ll have to do that at some point. She planned on sleeping on the tour bus which is fine in a pinch, but it’s a tight fit for her. How will Killian fit in there, too, unless he’s on top of her?

Suddenly, her mouth is dry at the thought, but she’s saved from her earlier thoughts of attraction by Killian’s gasp.

“Is that Granny up there?” All she can do is keep up as he moves them in a direction, and Emma realizes as she hears a loud chiming in the distance that it’s after midnight already. A whole day gone, but was it ever truly wasted connected to Killian Jones?

-x-

See you soon for Part 2!

[pellicano-sanguino]

I just watched Makaze’s blu-ray box. I know the blu-ray’s description in online shops probably tells what exactly it has, but in case someone wants to know what this box is all about, I will share some random thoughts and try to describe its contents.

The blu-ray comes in one of those slightly inconvenient sized A4 covers, just like Reon in Budokan did. It’s a bit of a hassle to nicely fit in my DVD-shelf, but it comes with several gorgeous photos that look much better in that big A4 size. There’s one blu-ray disk and a CD.

I think the biggest attraction of this thing is the music video. The song is pretty nice but my attention was taken by the dancing, which was very beautiful, expressive and suits Makaze’s dance style. There are parts where her movements just flow so smoothly and naturally, but there are also some still moments when the dancing slows down and she seems to either watch or listen to something the viewer can’t see or hear. It’s quite emotional song and Makaze’s dancing is also full of emotion, a certain kind of restlessness. When the song ends, Makaze collapses on her back and reaches upward. Maybe if I knew Japanese better I’d understand the symbolism better. But anyway, it’s a pretty cool music video and I’m super happy they gave Makaze some good dancing to do.

This is followed by a making of-documentary for the music video. It’s fun to see the behind the scenes stuff, plus this also covers the photo shoots for those extra photos that came with the box (during which they have a wind machine buzzing in every other shoot, it’s like they want to make the kaze-puns a thing). This part is quite long, though, and consist mostly of interviews, which will be much more interesting to someone who’s fluent in Japanese. I think they could have edited this to be a bit shorter, but that’s just me. Seeing the dance practise was interesting. Also, when the making of-documentary of Makaze’s personal book came out, someone made a joke that their dream job would be to be the person who has to spray Makaze’s neck with water. After seeing this documentary I will have to continue this trend and say, my dream job is to be the person who catches escaped strands of her hair and tucks them back in with the rest during a windy photo shoot. That or be the person who pats her hair dry with a towel after she was laying down in an inch deep water pool for the music video’s final moment.

After this there’s small clips of the shows Makaze’s performed in. Most of the clips are very short and edited together, sometimes with a background music that isn’t from that show. If you’ve seen all the DVDs there are available of Makaze’s shows, there’s very little new material here, unfortunately. There’s bits and pieces from her shinkos but those are very brief. Most of the clips in general are very brief, understandably, since Makaze’s career has been quite long and if they added full scenes from every musical, they’d probably have to dedicate a second disk to just that.

Some dances are shown in full. Much to my delight, this includes three dances from the finale of Lancelot. I wished so hard that this show could get a full release now that Towards a Day in the Sun got it, but it’s probably never going to happen and so these three dances (and some other small clips) are the only officially released material I have of one my favourite shows (yes, I know that there’s only like two and half other fans who actually love this one but I don’t care, I sincerely adore it, in all its weird time travel nonsense and cryptic take on the grail myths). 

While we are talking about Lancelot by the way, when I watched this show and got to the love song Lasse sings to Guinevere, I could have sworn Makaze used the Welsh name for the queen, Gwenhwyfar. I couldn’t really be sure if I was just imagining it, but all along the musical I think I heard everyone pronounce her name “Gwinevee”, yet my ears told me Makaze was singing “Gwenhhifaa.” Well, now that I can see the name of that song in the CD’s titles - I have been proven right.

Also, as a side note, I’m refusing to call Valencian Passion by it’s correct name from now on. I have renamed it Aishiteiru Aishiteiru Aishiteiru Aishiteiru. A4 for short.

Another dance they include in whole is the Sapphire Dance from Classical Bijou. Never gonna say no to that one.

While the clipshows offer very little new material, they are edited rather well. They’ve picked some of the best scenes and dances and poses, and made them flow very nicely together, and the music, when not one used in the shows, suits them well enough. If you’re in the mood for some short best-of snippets, this is fine.

Haven’t listened to the CD yet, but it seems to have a different collection of songs than Makaze’s Applause-collection CD that was released earlier, so that’s good. 

By the end of the blu-ray there’s a short clipshow of finales so you can see all of Makaze’s parade feathers.

Bottom line: The lovely photos and the music video are very cool, but there’s very little brand new material considering the box’s high price, so bear that in mind when deciding if this might be a blu-ray you’d like to get. I don’t regret getting mine, but thought I’d share what the contents were so future buyers know what to expect.

[blenderface]

TV Show Quiz

Pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions. Don’t cheat. Tag 10 (or however many) peeps.

Dragon Ball Z

Good Omens

Aqua Teen Hunger Force

Da Ali G Show

Nathan for You

1. Who is your favorite character in 2?

The OTP, Aziraphale and Crowley.

2. Who is your least favorite character in 1?

Hard to pick a least favorite that isn’t just some throw away character. I guess Tien just because he doesn’t really do much of anything, at least at the point I’m at.

3. What is your favorite episode of 4?

I don’t know about favorite episode, but my favorite segment was definitely Ali G going to an ATF facility.

4. What is your favorite season of 5?

I barely think of this show in seasons. It all flows together very well and is consistently good. I guess Season 3 when looking at total episode that killed me. The Movement and the Antique Shop are some of my favorites.

5. Who is your favorite couple in 3?

Definitely Meatwad with Frylock.

6. Who is your favorite couple in 2?

Come on now.

7. What is your favorite episode of 1?

So far, still the episode where Krillin is about to murk Vegeta in cold blood and Goku talks him down.

8. What is your favorite episode of 5?

Honestly too hard to pick a favorite. The Gas Station episode is pretty extreme.

9. What is your favorite season of 2?

Only the one. The best episode is number 3 though.

10. How long have you watched 1?

I used to watch snippets, but never sat down and watched it until about a month ago.

11. How did you become interested in 3?

When Adult Swim first started airing when I was a kid I would catch an episode here and there. Then I sat down and watched full seasons of it when I was like 13 with my dad. Then it just carried on forever.

12. Who is your favorite actor in 4?

Gee, I wonder... It’s such a hard choice.

13. Which do you prefer, 1, 2, or 5?

Either 1 or 5. Depends on if I’m in the mood for a laugh or watching shredded dudes kick the shit out of each other.

14. Which show have you seen more episodes of, 1 or 3 ?

Hahaha definitely 3.

15. If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

Bruno. He gets into all kinds of sick fashion shows.

16. Would a crossover between 3 and 4 work?

Uhh, I guess. I wouldn’t really want it though.

17. Pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple.

Vegeta and Piccolo. They’d make out a lot. We all know the gif too.

18. Overall, which show has the better storyline, 3 or 5?

Hahahaha, neither of them have a single storyline. I guess probably 5 has more recurring things happens over a shorter amount of time.

19. Which has the better theme music, 2 or 4?

Definitely 4 even though it wasn’t as much of a song as a collection of noises. The sound design on it is way better.

Tagging: Whoever wants to do this as well!

[felixsfrecklesaremyaesthetic]

The winter ball pt.1

1.9k words 

December 20th, to most it was a normal day but to the excited teens of Hogwarts, it was the long-awaited day of the winter ball. Students sat around in the Gryffindor common room all huddled close to the roaring fireplace. All stretching their socked feet towards the flames trying to warm their practically frozen toes. 

There were considerably fewer students than before the Christmas holidays had started, Fred, noticed. Consequently, that allowed Fred to hear about every word of the conversation the two 6th year girls were having next to him. All they were blabbering on about was the ball. He happened to hear a snippet of the conversation, the blonde girl asked ‘if she should use Rachael’s pixie powder blush,” and ‘if they’ll play any of the whispering wolves’ music”. Fred rolled his eyes, in truth he also liked the whispering wolves’ music and hoped it would be played tonight, but he just couldn’t understand what the all the fuss was about the ball. it was just a dance for 5th, 6th and 7th years to mill around a bit and get uncomfortably sweaty in even more uncomfortable dress robes. It was a tradition stolen from the American wizards at Ilvermorny- it had something to do with the winter solstice and some famous wizard but Fred really couldn’t remember anything else about it.

“Freddie stop staring at them you look like a weirdo”, Lucie’s voice broke Fred from his thoughts. He turned to face her; she sat in one of the high backed, plush chairs stolen from around the fireplace. On her lap, face up, was one of the countless charms books Fred knew she kept in her trunk -her caramel coloured fingers absentmindedly ran across the very well-worn pages as she was speaking to him. she looked ever so small in the chair Fred thought; it's like the abundance of cushions were swallowing her whole. Although, she might have looked so small due to the deep maroon jumper that she loved so deeply (even though the cuffs were frayed to bits and there was a hole in the collar) was sagging sadly around her petite shoulders. The last full moon had really taken a toll on her this time, Fred made a mental note to make sure she ate plenty of food during the holidays and to keep some chocolate in his pocket just in case. The thing Fred hated the most was seeing her get ill; it made his intestines knot with guilt and worry and a cold feeling pool in the pit of his stomach.

“So, when we're both ready should we meet here or at the main hall?”, Lucie questioned, “because I think we should meet here so I can assess if your fashion is truly winter ball ready.’ Lucie laughed her way through the sentence, sarcasm dripping from her voice. A smirk played at her lips as she waited for Fred’s reply.

"Well for one I think we should meet here and two, I'll have you know I'm very fashionable.”

“yeah right, you’re about as fashionable as a mountain troll in a cocktail dress”, Lucie retorted.

The pair bickered for a little while longer before ultimately deciding they should split ways back to their rooms and begin to get ready.

Snow was falling thickly upon the grounds now, covering it in a blanket of white. All that broke up this blanket was the iced gingerbread house of Hagrid’s cabin; a pinprick of light glowing from one of its windows. Well, that was all Fred could see through one of the slits in the stone wall of the spiralling staircase he ascended to get to his room.

The more steps he took towards his room the more reality began setting in. He was going to the winter ball with Lucie- his best friend- and she was going to be his date. Before now it hadn’t been a big deal but he realized he’d probably have to do awkward things like slow dance with her and do other date stuff all night. Wiping his now sweaty palms on his trousers, other thoughts of what he’ll have to do tonight began bombarding his brain. Will it make Lucie happy if he does all that date stuff? What if he tries to dance with her and she laughs and him? What if it gets so awkward, she never wants to see him again, then who would help him with his charms homework?

Before he knew it, Fred was at the door to his room. Leaning closer to open the door, he heard the other boys getting ready and he began to laugh at himself and all his stupid thoughts. After all, it was just Lucie and he’d done way more awkward things in front of her before without her hating him and most importantly if the other boys are going to be there with him it couldn’t really be that bad.

James sat fully dressed on his bed in dark navy dress robes, his shoes and tie hanging from the chestnut bedpost by his feet. Fred thought he looked very smart in his dress robes and very much not like James. Even his unruly pitch coloured hair was brushed and styled neatly. Fred smiled knowing how desperately James wanted to impress Alice.

“Cutting it a bit close Weasley you’ll hardly have any time to doll yourself up for Lucie”, said James whilst raising his eyebrows mischievously.

“well at least I’m not waiting around in dress robes for no reason”, Fred retorted

“Oi, I’m meeting Alice in her common room on the other side of the bloody castle so I have to be ready early”, James said whilst throwing a pillow directly at Fred’s head. Beaters, perfect aim as usual.

Frankie, one of the other two boys in the room rolled his eyes, turned away and grumbled something about ‘potter’, ‘best friend’ and ‘my sister’.

After a mad panic of finding his dress robes, losing his shoes and finding them again and trying miserably to arrange his dark brown curly hair, Fred was ready and so was everyone else in the room. Looking down at the dirty blonde head of hair just by his shoulder, Fred noticed that Frankie looked just about as nervous as he felt. The taller boy clapped the shorter one on the shoulder telling him that he was bloody brave to ask out the 6th year and she was absolutely out of her mind to accept the 5th year's proposal. They both laughed, some of the nervousness weighing down their shoulders disappeared as they both set off the meet their dates, a little turquoise corsage held firmly in Frankie’s hand.

Lucie was late as usual. The sliver of black silky fabric that was once Fred’s bowtie laid miserably in his hand. He’d tried for the past ten minutes to try and tie it but to no avail. Every time it just looked like one of the bows on his grandmas Christmas presents. On the other hand, maybe he couldn’t tie it due to his hands sweating rivers and his brain feeling like a firework had gone off in his skull. After another ten minutes of Fred getting up, sitting down and staring intensely at the ink pot on the table in front of him, which he had seen nearly a thousand times before, he finally heard the click-clack of high heels on wooden stairs and knew Lucie was finally ready.

She was a symphony of deep reds; her satin dress tightly hugged her body. That was until her calves where countless large ruby red ruffles erupted and then neatly fell all the way to the floor. Fred thought she looked beautiful. He’d never seen her look like this, her usually choppy black hair was now smoothed into an ornate coil at the back of her head, she even had a rose placed neatly beside her ear. Most of all Fred had never seen her with this much makeup on, her warm brown eyes were framed by fluttering black eyelashes and her lips were the colour of red wine, her skin seemed to be made of melted gold as it shimmered with fine gold glitter. Fred couldn’t believe his eyes and felt his jaw drop when she came even closer, she looked even prettier.

“sorry I’m late I had to redo my hair at least five times and then I had to help Ariana get into her dress and …Freddie why are you staring at me?”, Lucie asked her eyebrows pushed together in confusion.

“oh, sorry I was just”, Fred felt his cheeks get suspiciously hot, “you look very pretty.” he rambled at one hundred miles an hour. Lucie shot a surprised look at him but smiled widely as she thanked him. Fred knew his face was the colour of beetroot and tried hopelessly to calm himself down slightly.

Lucie scoffed slightly. “need me to tie that for you”, she said pointing at the sliver of silk still held firmly in his fist. She began stepping towards him taking the bowtie from his hand.

“you tie a tie every day how’s this any different”, she said whilst leaning forward to wrap the bowtie around this neck. Fred felt his ears blaze with a heat like molten lava and his eyes linger anywhere that was not Lucie. How in Dumbledore’s name is he going to spend the whole night with Lucie if he can’t even look at her? Fred thought to himself.

“they’re very different ties”, Fred spoke with all the confidence he could muster. Suddenly, Lucie was finished with his tie. She leaned back and Fred began to miss the closeness of her next to him. Then they were off down the corridors, Lucie’s shoes clacking on the stone tiles and her hand grasping lightly at Fred’s upper arm.

Hundreds of students gathered outside the main hall where a rainbow of different coloured robes and dresses blended together, very much unlike their usual black uniforms. Fred scanned the room looking for his friends. His eyes laid upon professor Longbottom smiling lovingly at his daughter, Alice, she wore a dress of shimmering gold fabric that went very nicely with her flowing long blonde hair. Next to Alice was her brother Frankie and his date Minsu who were engrossed in a very energetic conversation about what Fred could make out as the proper way to do the perfect bat bogey hex.

“you two are just in time they’re just about to let us all in”, said James with wild eyes, excitement practically rolling off of him. “oh, and you look great Lucie,” to Fred’s surprise, Lucie blushed but thanked James shortly after. Then the minute of everyone complimenting each other was abruptly stopped by the voice of a loud Scottish woman telling the buzzing crowd of students that the ball was about to begin. Professor McGonagall stood tall in her green tartan robes, as she was the headmistress of Hogwarts, she had much to be proud of and it showed through the pure look of admiration Fred could see in her eyes as she looked upon her students.

“seventh years go first, then sixth, then lastly fifth. You will all go inside in an orderly manner; then we will start the festivities,” McGonagall announced.

An excited rumble erupted through the crowd as the vast oak doors of the main hall began to open. as Fred looked inside he was met with hundreds of sparkling snowflakes, crystallised and suspended in mid-air as if someone had frozen time as the snow was falling. The room was illuminated in soft blue light as glowing orbs danced around the room; on closer inspection, Fred realized that these were not any ordinary lights, these were real faerie lights with real faeries. He couldn’t make out any more of the hall as streams of 6th and 7th years began to stream forward and block his view.