#the original version of that ‘heart of gold’ post from a week or so ago actually

[mjulmjul]

CORRUPTED HEART

#artists on tumblr #art #illustration #angels #supernatural #ish #the original version of that ‘heart of gold’ post from a week or so ago actually #small changes big difference in mood

[iheartyvesss]

eternity.

chapter 01, destruction.

dream of the endless x goddess!reader

warnings? none, tension between destruction and reader but it’s only a little!

wc? 2.1k

a lot of italics bc i’m a slut for emphasis//cross post from ao3! ♥︎

who does not know of the beautiful (name)? the sweet goddess of grief, misery and darkness that somehow holds the softest heart known to man. the goddess that comes to place gentle hands on children at the loss of their parents, the same goddess that passes entire villages on to hades. the same goddess that finds herself infatuated with her superiors.

the endless.

living as a young goddess was..stressful. you had too much to do every second of the day, and you begin to wonder how your elders have done this for so long. the life seems luxurious, you stay beautiful forever—young forever with very rare challenges. there are very few weapons that can kill you, and when you bleed it’s a beautiful gold color that is poisonous to your enemies. what more could you ask for?

that’s how you felt at first, your first hundred years or so of life were fun. you spent your time partying and dealing with the few duties you had. this was a prime time in greece and rome, and as both countries had roman and greek versions of you, you spent significant time in both places. the most you think you dealt with in this time was the peloponnesian war as well as the persian war, the misery that followed was plentiful. to you, it appeared over the area in a deep murky fog, hard to see through and even harder to relieve yourself of.

despite having a negative function, you definitely found yourself being rather positive more often than not. you didn’t have time to succumb to the misery nor the grief that your subjects went through nearly everyday. because of this alone, you found the roman and greek gods warming up to you fairly quickly. their original hostility was understandable, you didn’t have any blood relation to them and practically popped out of nowhere. i mean, technically, you did. destiny formed you himself, out of clay and his own power. you didn’t harness any of it, though, only gaining immortality among other things.

you believed that you were put here for a reason, part of a prophecy long lost to the centuries. after all, the greeks were not the first to roam this earth. your endless were. the ones who’d given you life were here following their parents; night and day. you felt honored to be created by the eldest, because if he created you then you had a larger purpose. something to look forward to, if you will.

in the meantime, you’d tend to your place within greece’s ideals of polytheism. you’d act as your own priestess, it kind of amused you to see people remark at the resemblances between you and the marble statue of you above the temple. you’d only hum, providing a soft smile and pretend to be bashful at the comparison. you were no prophet, but you did know how to help those wallowing in their misery. you knew how to relieve grief, and how to pass it on to your elder “sister” euphrosyne who was your exact opposite. the sweet goddess of cheer, joy, and mirth. you’ve happily come across her many times as you delivered people from their misery to her warm embrace of joy.

“sister,” you call softly, “do you think i am permanent?” euphrosyne looked up at you from her place on the balcony, nimble hands working on a painting she’d began a couple of weeks ago. worry flits across her face, a deep frown forming where a calm smile had once been. euphrosyne places her painting utensils down, wiping her hands on a cloth and inspecting her hands before making her way to you. she kneels in front of you, gently clasping her hands around your head, “(name), of course you are. who has put such thoughts in your mind? misery will live as long as joy does, and you will not whither no matter what happens. grief is permanent, death is forever. as long as death lives, so shall you.”

you purse your lips to attempt to fight tears, feeling pitiful for having such thoughts. how could joy treat misery with such gentleness? oh, how you loved her. you look away from her before meeting her eyes, “i am not of you, euphrosyne. i was formed of an endless, not born or nursed like a babe. i am practically nothing but a walking shell.” euphrosyne’s face twists into an expression you haven’t quite seen before. it’s a mix of grief and disbelief, and a twinge of anger in her soft eyes.

“you cry like i do, do you not?” you nod, but it isn’t enough for your elder sister. she stands up, forcing your chin upwards to see her, “answer me, sister.” she watches your eyes flitter, once away from her, then back to her face, then away again. you’re fighting yourself, but euphrosyne knows you very well. you will give in eventually, “i do, euphrosyne.” she hums in satisfaction, wiping the fresh tears that slipped down your cheeks. her hands don’t move, though, “and do you laugh, feel joy, happiness, love as i do?”

“yes.”

euphrosyne’s tone is sharp as she continues, “then you are not a shell, (name). shells can do nothing but mimic, not think for themselves. what you express is genuine feeling, you make your own decisions on how things do and don’t make you feel. you love endlessly, and are so gentle with your subjects. do not let such thoughts cloud you, nor your judgement.”

you still feel dumb for such thoughts, but you’d listen to your sister for now. there was no reason to continue to have thoughts that weren’t so much as close to true. you know your limits, euphrosyne knows your limits, so you shall calm the storm raging in your mind for now. your soft lips break into a sad smile, leaning into your sister’s touch before you stand to your full height. your arms wrap around her before you can think about it, and her beautiful laugh fills the air. “never worry yourself with such things, my dear little sister. even if you are not blood to me, you will still be my kin no matter what comes to us.”

“you are my opposite, as long as one of us lives, so will the other. i love you, and i will for eternity.” she kisses your forehead, her grip on your cheeks returning as the kiss turned firm. she pulled away, giggling at the prominent lipstick stain on your forehead. she wiped your tears herself before pressing light kisses to your eyelids, “now, let us go explore the city until we have more duties to tend to.” her hands leave your head to grip your hands, eyes glittering with underlying magic. she look you over, “come on sweet thing, we’re getting you dressed and going out.”

and, your sister did just that. she spent the next damn near hour dressing you with flickers of her fingers and giggles and hums. euphrosyne was so fun to be around, you’d already forgotten your earlier dilemma. there were no more worries about whether you were real or not, you were…content. maybe. you’d take this night out as something to remind you why you’ve enjoyed the centuries here as a goddess. to remember why you were you.

“it is rare that anyone dares to throw a party like this.” you gesture to the various men and women in less clothing than normal, the most obscene sounds filling the air from areas in the room no one could particularly see. euphrosyne laughs close to your ear, holding your hand in hers just a little tighter so neither of you get lost in the crowded villa. there were people everywhere indulging themselves in wine among other things. drunk sailors found themselves wherever they could perch, singing loud sea ballads with drunken grins on their faces. you heart felt warm. full. you were part of a culture and nothing could make you happier.

“um, i’m gonna get us some wine stay close to the fountain. i’ll be back, (name), don’t wander off.” she put emphasis on the don’t, knowing how much you enjoyed wandering off and getting indulged in various conversations with random people you knew nothing about. you were social and loveable, what could she possibly do about it? nothing, really, and that’s why you wandered off anyway.

this time, your adventure led you to a balcony. there was no one on it (surprisingly), so you took the liberty of being the first to welcome yourself to the open space. the wind was harsh against your body, leaving your dress moving to the side as your hair blew in the slightest. the moon was imminent tonight, and you could feel the energy of the moon goddess smiling upon you. feeling energies would never get old to you, everyone had their own energy that felt different to you. euphorsyne’s energy was soft…warm, almost. that’s probably why you felt such a need to be with her so often.

“i hope i am not disturbing you, goddess.” a gruff voice calls from behind you, soft in tone but rough in sound. you barely turn around, peeking over your shoulder at the man that’d discovered your little hide out. you picked up a white and gold chiton, and what seemed to be red hair. your lips formed into a smile as you fully turned around, “it is no proble- oh.” your eyes widened as you faced the strong man, veins shot. the man laughs softly at your reaction, “destruction? my lord, what are you doing in greece?”

even with your shock, you’d manage to keep honorifics up. it amused him, just a little. destruction steps forward, clasping his hands around yours, “i have heard your conflicts, i didn’t want to come whilst euphrosyne was present. i’d be causing conflict, she is not of my function, she is of delight.” he brings your hands to his lips, sighing softly as he tries to put his words together. destiny sent him to calm you down, and who was he to conflict with destiny? he isn’t, he believes, and even delight had said he should go. you tilt your head at the endless, surprised by the gentleness in his gestures.

destruction lets your hands go, gesturing for the both of you to lean on the balcony, “(name), your purpose is permanent, it is forever. you’ve nothing to worry about, things such as from which you are from and permanence should never concern you. you are misery, dear goddess. your function extends against every religion and much more, destiny would never make anyone less than what–or who–they are. he believes in you, as do i.”

you had felt yourself get over it earlier, but you didn’t think it would be so reassuring to hear it from an endless. it was quiet for a moment between the two of you, you were probably trying to collect yourself and your thoughts whilst destruction allowed you to do so. you pursed your lips as you watched the stars, feeling them twinkle and shine back at you, “i understand that, my lord, but i don’t believe these thoughts will stop for quite some time. i am three hundred years old, and i still have yet to stop thinking of such things. but,” you sigh, hiding your smile with your hair as you looked down to the people below, “thank you, destruction.”

destruction finds himself smiling as well, feeling the smile radiate from you, “don’t thank me for what has always been true, dear goddess.” his hand rests over yours on the railing, a reassuring warmth radiating from his hand to yours. your chest felt light, worries leaving as quick as they’d come. was this how it felt to be free? worries were plentiful, as were the feeling of relief when you let those same worries go. you wonder, how would the rest of your many (many) years go living, if this was how a measly 300 went? would you succumb to pressure?

“are you also here to enjoy the party? or have you only come to calm a childish goddess who questions herself?” both pairs of eyes are soft as they meet and destruction’s hoarse laugh fills the space between the two of you. he shakes his head, “you aren’t childish, but i was not given limits. so, i suppose i’ll stay a bit longer to amuse you.” you laugh softly as you squeeze his hand, “aw, if you wished to stay longer you hadn’t need to pin it on me. unless you’ve only stayed for me, dear destruction.”

the endless laughs. hard, and your face feels hot as you’ve gotten ahead of yourself. he looks up at the sky, calming his chuckles before finally turning to you, “i have stayed to know more of you, dear goddess.”

oh.

#dream of the endless #dc comics #dream x reader #dream x y/n #dream #dream smut #destruction of the endless #death of the endless #the endless

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

sir, ma’am, person, or other pronouns, you cannot just post good writing ideas right before I sleep /j

I’d like to see that golden house prompt as a short story,,, possibly????😳

-💃

spoiler! i ain't good at choreographing fights but uh i THINK i was poetic enough so it still sounds cool??? hope that's ok!! this is also inspired by some of the brainrot i've been having and getting in the past few days so i can definitely make a part two!! also normal Childe’s there for a bit original prompt was of FL Childe injuring you during the golden house fight!! read Part Two here!!: The Sky’s Tears ~ * ~ Golden House is Falling Down Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Angst Warnings: Worrying, descriptions of anger, fighting (battles), a corpse, allusions to blood, pain, potential death, lightning, electrocution

~ * ~

Sometimes Childe worried you. It came with his job, you supposed. You were well aware of his status as a Fatui Harbinger, although you’ve never personally seen him at work- it had been a casual accident when you walked into him discussing plans with his subordinates. The two of you hadn’t been close back then, only acquaintances, and he made you swear to secrecy. Well, technically he had threatened you, but you didn’t particularly mind. You weren’t as in love with Liyue as some of your friends were, and you, unlike many people, understood the importance of a well-paying job. Having his position exposed to the public could very well get him fired. Those had been your concerns, so long ago. But now, as you hurried after the Traveler in all their glory, those pitiful worries seemed so far away, replaced instead by anxious thoughts flurrying by about life and death. You weren’t anyone of particular importance in the harbor, but you always made sure to pay careful attention to any rumors and gossip you heard. You always took them with a grain of salt, of course, but you had long ago learned that it was good to keep things you heard in your mind as potential possibilities. Liyue had a habit of having “impossible” events happen anyways. It really got on your nerves sometimes. Last week’s whispers had been full of a Fatui plan about meddling with the panicking government, after Rex Lapis had allegedly fallen from the sky, his status as the oldest living archon gone. Seeing that the Fatui’s reputation wasn’t particularly good, you had filed the thought away to consider later. A few days later, it came true. And Childe seemed to vanish into thin air, shifting your worries instantaneously over to him. It was funny, how close the two of you had gotten in the weeks he’d been in Liyue. At least, you were close to him. The Traveler was kind enough to let you accompany them to the famed Golden House, just to cover all possible leads. Their steps are light and quick as you approach the elegant building, all lined with gold and jade, and you can almost hear the tinkling sound of mora within. The Traveler stares up at the enormous door, clutching their sword. They seem prepared for a fight. You gulp, hoping that their stance is just how they stand as a default. The doors to the Golden House swing open, and the Traveler gestures for you to follow them, a determined look in their eyes. You enter together, and momentarily you’re distracted by the piles of mora scattered around the floor- probably more mora than you’d see in your entire life. Your eyes scan the room as the glimmer of coins snatches your attention, a tendency that friends and family had always teased you lightheartedly about- they’d call you a crow or a magpie. You didn’t mind being a bird. It sounded fun, to fly away from all your problems. Finally your gaze lands on the corpse of Rex Lapis, floating in the center-back of the room like a morbid decoration put on display. Despite it being very, very dead, it emanates an aura of power, and you involuntarily shiver, the temperature seeming to drop by a few degrees. Suddenly you hear the great doors of the Golden House slam shut, and someone’s voice questions why they, the Traveler, still lingered. The three of you, little Paimon included, turn in surprise. It’s Childe, the very person you were fretting over and looking for. You sigh quietly in relief, but your fleeting moment of calm is quickly dashed as the Traveler silently challenges him to a duel. Hastily you scramble to get out of the way, and just barely find yourself “out-of-bounds” when the arena for their fight flares to life as they both ready their weapons. Childe retrieves his bow with a twisted smile, a counterpart to the Traveler’s iron stoicness. But it seems his gaze lingers on you, and softens for a brief moment, something you tell yourself is just your imagination, because you doubt he was ever your friend to begin with. As someone whose work isn’t associated with adventuring, your knowledge of combat is limited, but even you can see the

skill of both the Traveler and Childe as their blades clash. Several times a burst of elemental energy strikes the burning walls of the arena, and you’re thankful for the barrier between you and them, because you have very little chance of surviving the power of their abilities. When Childe’s clothes darken and the mask falls over his face, you remember hearing something about a far more powerful and dangerous version of Visions- Delusions, items the Tsaritsa, Cryo Archon and ruler of Snezhnaya, rewards to her most loyal and deserving followers. Childe’s is Electro, and the crackle of static energy he slashes towards the Traveler makes your hair stand on end. You shield your eyes from the bright lights dancing around the arena, and when you reopen them, Childe has disappeared. And he reappears next to Rex Lapis’ corpse. Several things happen at once. The Geo Archon’s Gnosis is gone, taken by neither the Harbinger or the Traveler. Paimon looks worried, the Traveler looks shocked, and Childe enraged- You blink and he’s changed. Suddenly several feet taller, he now floats, some sort of terrible creature you’ve never seen before. Everything is loud, too loud, and you clap your hands over your ears, as the floor breaks away beneath you. And you fall with the Traveler and Paimon into the chamber below. You feel something catch you- an enormous clawed hand- and set you down more or less gently into a single large room. The room is the arena, an arena you stand in with no escape. The Gnosis is gone, and Childe is a monster, one of both Hydro and Electro and a foreign, starry magic that makes your skin crawl. And the battle only continues. Luckily the Traveler is adamant on staying away from you, drawing Childe’s attacks to the other side of the arena entirely, and for a majority of the fight the most you have to do is dodge falling arrows and water amalgamations. Childe’s furious questions about the Gnosis soon fade into hisses and growls as he loses himself more and more into the horrible joy of battle. You lean over, coughing slightly from the water that splashed you as a consequence of his attacks and the exertion from dodging and keeping your balance in the Hydro-soaked room. The Traveler screams, and you look up too late as a burst of electro slashes across your chest. Then everything goes white and high pitched, your senses bursting alongside the elemental energy as it runs up your damp skin and clothes. The pain from the combination of Hydro and Electro in your veins brings tears to your eyes, and it’s only amplified around your torso as you vaguely feel something warm and sticky dripping down. Someone shakes you, panicking, calling your name, but everything is white, cold noise. The sounds around you are muffled as the battle slows to a halt, and all you hear is ringing. Another hand, sharp and clawed, brushes against your arm, but it retreats when someone starts shouting. A blade is brandished as someone yells at a monster to stay away, he’s done enough damage, how dare he, and you hear a mournful, desperate chitter through the haze of static. Ah, that curious sound, it makes your heart ache. But what, or who, is it? The sword slices through the air as the monster is pushed away by a blonde-haired Traveler’s rage, and it soon joins into the pitching, ringing note in your ears before it tapers into silence and sorrow, leaving only the inky abyss of darkness crawling up to your eyes as the pain fades into weightlessness. This time, you let yourself fall. In the harbor, the Fair Lady is informed that the Golden House is falling down, falling down.

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #gi ajax #foul legacy #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #foul legacy x reader #sfw #genshin angst #genshin x reader #💃 anon #anon #SHHH I AIN'T GOOD AT FIGHTS #BUT IT'S FINEEEE #also normal childe is here for a bit #i had to look up the cutscenes because it's been so long #i could def make a part two based off the brainrot hehehehee #i tried to give hints of him being softer to you did i do good??? #foul legacy childe #wifi writes

[su-era4-comic]

This is cute but you stole the design for ivory from ask-whitepearl-and-Steven aka thechekhov and I think that’s super messed up

You know, I was just gonna ignore this ask but, honestly, I knew this was probably gonna come up again sometime in the future. 

“Again? Lee, what do you mean again?!”

I say AGAIN because a week ago I got a different ask saying that I was ripping off @omy-chan01 ‘s design for their THEIR version of “White Diamond Steven!”

So, this is gonna be a little long but I feel like if I don’t THOROUGHLY explain this, this is gonna come up again and again and I wanna be able to just...plop down a link to this post just in case.

Alright, so...did I steal @thechekhov ‘s WD!Steven design for Ivory.

No. I didn’t.

And you wanna know something? That wasn’t Ivory’s original design. I had tried several different designs for Ivory! He was actually the most difficult of the Diamond Bros to design BECAUSE of his gem AND because of the fear of this very scenario!

So, lemme explain my entire thought process when I was trying to design Ivory.

This is a bit of an obvious point to make but the Diamond’s gem placement/positions clearly mirror eachother. Yellow and Blue: their gems are just a legit mirror and similar shape so the Gem placement for Gold and Azure was easy, their Gems are basically their hearts.

White and Pink are the same: they have the same cut of Gem but they’re just rotated to be vertical mirror images.

I wanted to keep that theme with the Diamond Boys so I wanted Ivory’s Gem to “mirror” Steven’s. But here’s where I got tripped up a little.

This is one of the design drafts I made when creating the boys. As you can see, I made 5 different designs for Ivory’s Gem placement. My first design was actually the bottom one but, as you can see in my notes, THAT was a no go (the amount of spinal issues that poor boy would have to go through lol)

So I just stuck with the head placement which was the obvious choice but I still didn’t know how I was gonna rotate it. I didn’t want his gem to be upside down, it just looked...weird to me.

I thought about just having his gem rotated to the same position as Steven’s but just on his head but still...looked kinda off to me. So I had decided on either one of the designs in Column B. I thought both of those were pretty good! The top-right design still have an up-side down gem but just moved back to be at the center of his skull. And I thought the bottom-right one would be perfect because “hey, mirror image, just flipped and I could get some jokes outta this later down the line in the comic!”

In the end, I had ORIGINALLY decided to go with my Top-Right choice cause I thought that’d be more interesting and I thought maybe it would make him look a little more original!

But a few weeks later, as I was scrolling through Tumblr, a Steven Universe AU comic showed up in my feed. This AU comic was the @theeldritchgemsau. I read through it (and you guys should too, it’s REALLY interesting and really good) but then I saw THEIR design for “White Steven’s” Gem...

Oh dear...

Welp, guess I couldn’t use that design because I thought “Aw crap, better go with one of my other choices otherwise people will think that I ripped off this Comic’s design and I don’t wanna do that!!”

But here’s the OTHER issue I now had to deal with!

I still didn’t want to use bottom right design because I was VERY WELL AWARE OF (and a fan of) @thechekhov “Ask White Steven and Pearl” comic series at this time so I had the same issue of “SHIT, I can’t use that design EITHER because I’d be copying” but I still didn’t want to use my other 3 designs because they just didn’t gel with me but I still couldn’t use the options in column B because then I was afraid I’d be accused of stealing other peoples designs and it was just a spiral of “FUCK WHAT AM I GONNA DO NOW!!?”

Yeah. Fucked with me real bad! Then a thought creeped into my brain that was like “Oh shit, what if came up something that was already done and I get accused of copying them too?!” So I started looking through Tumblr and DeviantArt for “White Diamond Steven” to make sure I didn’t accidentally copy someone else...and..

LOE AND BEHOLD I actually DID find @omy-chan01 ‘s WD!Steven design! And even worse!? They came up with a similar “All 4 Diamond Sons existing in the same place” thing too!

I panicked, over thought a lot of stuff, tried to change my ENTIRE STORY AND DESIGNS and I almost SCRAPPED my entire comic idea JUST because of this! It was just an anxiety triggered domino effect...(-_-)

So then I took a break, calmed myself down and began reading up on “how to be original” and all that stuff. Then I came to a realization.

Like...yeah, Omy-Chan01 and Chekhov both have a version of WD!Steven with the same Gem placement but I don’t see people accusing them of copying the other. The only thing that same about these design IS the Gem placement but everything else about it? TOTALLY different. The design of their clothes, the design of the hair, hell the art styles are absolutely different. The only common factor between these characters is the Gem place/rotation. And...

It’s the same with Ivory. Aside from the Gem, my character is completely different from theirs. Why am I panicking over such a small detail? I shouldn’t be! I said “Fuck it, don’t worry about it.” And continued on with my work.

So...

TL;DR

NO. I did NOT steal @thechekhov ‘s design for WD!Steven. I just happened to come to a similar design conclusion for my character. I didn’t rip them off. I didn’t try and pass off their design as my own. This is all just a bunch of coincidences. 

Thank you and have a nice day.

#Anonymous #asks #author note #so yeah #didn't think I'd have to deal with this but there it is

[ulalumewitch]

this was originally inspired by the prompt “The Pet” by @capriprompts … part 3 finally address the prompt proper and my version of it. hope you enjoy!

Author’s Note: This story deals with disappointments during the adoption process as well as references to parental deaths during childhood. Some readers may find this triggering. I hope I handled it with the care and sensitivity it deserves.

This is part 3 (and final part). The links to Part 1 and Part 2 are below:

https://ulalumewitch.tumblr.com/post/658329277505421312/betty-part-1

https://ulalumewitch.tumblr.com/post/658355318446800896/betty-part-1

(not sure why they both read “part 1” but i swear the second one is part 2. one day i’ll figure all this out - lol)

word count: 2,590

themes: angst and fluff

hope you enjoy - i just love these two.

“Betty: Part 3”

Damen frowned as he sat on a stool at the breakfast bar. He looked passed the living room and to the balcony. Autumn finally broke through the summer heat, but despite the chilly temperatures, Laurent had remained outside on the balcony. For over an hour.

He’d been there when Damen got home at dinner. Laurent refused to eat, stated he wasn’t hungry, and turned away from him. Damen didn’t push him. After eight years together he knew which battles to pick, and he knew if he picked this one, he would lose.

His stomach fluttered with nerves. Damen wanted to speak to Laurent about what was coming before it got here. He tapped his phone screen again. No new messages. Dammit, Jokaste.

The woman was always late. While he hated lying to Laurent these past few days, he felt it necessary. He’d never lied to him before and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to repeat. But he wanted this to be a surprise if only so that Laurent couldn’t argue himself out of it. This would be good for them. Damen was sure of it. Well ... mostly sure of it.

Damen opened up his text messages waiting for replies. The texts from the people he talked to most in his life waiting for responses he couldn’t muster himself to give at the moment.

Papa Theo - D. Kastor wants to host Thanksgiving this year. Don’t let him take over. You and Laurent are better hosts. I’m begging you. Do what you have to. If I have to eat salmon on crackers again instead of turkey because Jokaste thinks it’s en vogue or whatever her high snobby ass thinks, I’ll lose it. Thank you. Papa.

Auguste - Laurent keeps ignoring my calls. Everything okay?

Kastor - Bro, Knicks game next weekend?

Nik - Knicks game next weekend? Text Kas for info.

Nicaise - Tell Laurent to call Auguste before I kill them both.

Jokaste - I’ll text you once I’ve valeted with the package.

The text from Jokaste was from two hours ago. It was only a fifteen minute drive between their apartments. But Damen knew from experience if he pressured her she’d delay herself more.

But for the past few days Jokaste was oddly ... maternal. She’d listened without spewing unwanted advice and helped him find exactly what he wanted, pulling strings from a few of the charities she’d help fund over the years. He’d never been so happy she spent money and drank wine for a living.

His phone buzzed in his hand. Damen let out a shaking breath as the text from Jokaste finally came through: The eagle has landed. We’re on our way up.

Damen took a breath and replied back: Laurent is out on the balcony. Door is unlocked. If we’re still outside please wait in the office until I get you. He’s ... not himself right now.

Damen held his breath. It could go one of two ways with Jokaste. Either she would understand or she would say she was too busy and leave the surprise in the living room before walking out.

His phone buzzed: Ok

He let the breath he’d been holding out and resolutely walked around the breakfast bar and to the balcony. Damen opened the glass door and gritted his teeth against the blast of cold wind to his face. Laurent remained sitting in his chair, bundled up in a huge knit sweater, scarf, coat, and hat that left only his eyes visible. He didn’t move as Damen approached. Laurent didn’t even look at him.

Damen’s heart pounded in his chest. Did something else happen? Had he forgotten something important? He and Laurent never had a problem communicating until recently and it killed him. This had to end. And now.

“Laurent,” Damen said.

No movement. No glance of acknowledgement. Nothing.

The wind picked up and howled as if in warning from the gods themselves against the building. Damen grabbed a chair a swung it around directly in front of Laurent and then sat down. Two narrowed eyes of blue ice cut to Damen then.

“You’re blocking my view.”

“Laurent, I know this has been hard -“

“I’m not talking about this. Leave me alone.”

Damen took a breath. He was in a worse mood then he thought. Shit.

“Listen to me. Okay? Just listen.”

Laurent leaned back slightly and with a small flourish of his hand indicated for Damen to proceed before crossing his arms over his chest. Damen took a calming breath and looked away at the same view to steady himself.

“I don’t know how much you’re hurting, because I’m not you. But I’m hurting too. It’s difficult. It’s painful. It’s unfair, and ugly, and all of the things you hope to never experience,” Damen stated, “But we’ll get through this. We will have our family, Laurent. Yes, things are bleak right now but we can’t give up because somewhere out there is our son or daughter. Maybe they’re not born yet, maybe they are. But we don’t give up because that’s not what we do.

“We didn’t give up on each other. Hell, you spent your entire inheritance to start a firm with a man you weren’t even married to yet. You helped raise your younger brother when you were still technically a child yourself because the worst nightmare for children happened. You fought your way through school and internships all while spending hours volunteering with children’s programs when most of us in law school could barely keep up with the average demands. You are a fighter, Laurent. You can’t give up now. Please, don’t give up now.”

Laurent’s eyes flickered for a moment as he regarded Damen silently. He didn’t move a single muscle. He also didn’t respond.

Damen took in a shuddering breath, “I love you. I’m sorry life isn’t as we want it right now. I will keep fighting for it, but I need you with me.”

Laurent still looked at him with cool neutrality as he asked, “Where were you this week, Damianos?”

Damen’s heart lurched in his chest. Oh God ... Damen had known better than to lie to Laurent. But he did it anyway because he’d been giddy at the thought of the surprise now waiting for them in their apartment. Apparently Laurent’s foul mood had been exacerbated because of him. Goddammit this was not how he wanted this to go either.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Damen cleared his throat, “I’m sorry I lied to you. But if you come inside I’ll show you why. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Laurent huffed, “I’m not in the mood for surprises or apologies. Now, leave me alone.”

“No.”

Laurent’s nostrils flared as he shot up and gracefully moved around him to the door. Damen cursed under his breath as he went after Laurent. Before he could think he caught his arm as they entered the living room.

“Let go,” Laurent growled.

“I was with Jokaste,” Damen surged ahead, “I needed her connections to get something for you and me to expand our family in a different way until our child comes home.”

Laurent stilled. Damen immediately let go of his arm.

Laurent turned, his blue eyes glittering with fury, as he hissed, “What did you do?”

Damen ignored the churning in his stomach and called out, “Bring her out, Jokaste.”

From the other side of the apartment the sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed around them. Then, Jokaste came into view. Her gold hair pulled back, her makeup made her look more devastatingly beautiful than was natural. Her designer clothes understated but somehow still reeked of money - and in her arms she held a basket with pink padding. And within that, a small puppy yipped happily, wagging her tail.

Damen looked at his husband. Laurent’s mouth hung slightly open, eyes wide and staring. Damen took a step closer to him until they were nearly touching but not quite.

Damen murmured, “She’s a King Charles Beagle mix. Her owners were older and couldn’t care for her so they put her up for adoption. She’s twelve weeks old, spayed, up to date on vaccines, and mostly housebroken. Jokaste put word out to the charities for animal adoption she’s helped fundraise for over the years, and then one of her connections emailed her about this beauty. I’ve been meeting with Jokaste to spend time with the puppy and then more recently to finish paperwork on her, as well as visit dog training centers and to research their puppy programs.”

He stopped. Laurent still didn’t respond, though he’d since closed his mouth, his eyes on the puppy in the basket. The white and tan puppy yipped excitedly seeming only to have eyes for Laurent. Damen’s chest ached slightly ... it was like she knew.

“I wanted to talk to you about it earlier but you needed time alone,” Damen whispered, “I’m sorry. I wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise but not this much. Also, if you don’t want her I understand. Jokaste will keep her instead so she’ll have a good home. But ... but I thought it would be nice for us to have a pet to take care of, to start expanding our family this way until ... until we can get what we want. She’s part beagle, so I imagine she’ll utterly lose her mind with happiness on the farm. But again, Laurent, if it’s too much, Jokaste will take her home, no questions asked. It’s up to you.”

Laurent swallowed and Damen heard his throat click as he did so. His face unreadable as he took a step towards Jokaste and the puppy. As he walked towards her, Damen stayed in place, but didn’t suppress the smile as the puppy began to yip louder, and bounced on her front paws the closer Laurent got to her.

“She’s high energy,” Jokaste murmured, “But she does love to cuddle. I think she likes you.”

Laurent remained silent as he brought his fingers up to the puppy. She immediately began to lick them, her tail wagging at such a rate Damen wondered if it possible for the thing to fly off of her. Then, tentatively, Laurent stroked her head. The puppy stopped bouncing but remained with her eyes on Laurent, tail wagging, as he pet her. Damen’s gut lurched as he saw the slight tremor in Laurent’s hand every time he lifted it up to resume stroking her down her back.

Then Laurent picked her up and held her against his chest. The puppy reached up and licked his face. Laurent pursed his lips together but Damen swore a smile was there before he was assaulted with puppy kisses. He cradled her against him, her fur a stark contrast against the black coat he still wore.

When she settled Laurent looked at Damen. He felt Laurent’s stare go through him and straight into his soul.

“Her name is Betty Rue Vere-Akielon,” Laurent announced.

Damen grinned, “Your obsession with the Golden Girls prevails once again.”

Laurent looked at the puppy and whispered, “They are fierce and so are you.”

The puppy licked Laurent’s face happily in response yipping gleefully. Damen cut his eyes to Jokaste and she smiled softly at him.

“I’m going to go,” Jokaste stated, “Have a good evening.”

“Thank you,” Damen said.

She dipped her chin slightly in acknowledgement and left. Damen walked over to Laurent and sat next to him as he set Betty on the ground. The puppy ran over both of their legs as Laurent removed his scarf and jacket, discarding both on the floor behind them.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Damen whispered.

Laurent cut his eyes to him before focusing on the puppy again, and said, “Forgiven. I’m sorry I gave you the silent treatment.”

Damen huffed a laugh, “No you’re not.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Laurent’s lips and he said, “I missed having a dog. We had one when I was a little boy but she passed away just before our parents.”

Damen nodded and said, “They estimate she shouldn’t be more than twenty-five or thirty pounds. Both breeds are good with children. Training is a necessity. But, but I think she’ll fit in well.”

“She’s perfect,” Laurent cooed and picked her up again to hold her to his chest, and then looked at Damen, his smile finally wide and unrestrained, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Damen said, “I know this doesn’t fix anything, but I thought it would help.”

Laurent leaned closer to him and then pressed his lips softly to Damen’s. He closed his eyes and when Laurent went to retreat, grabbed the back of his head and kept their mouths firmly in place. Damen deepened the kiss, needing the contact, reveling in the taste of them together.

“I love you,” Damen whispered breathlessly, “I love you and I’m here for you. Through good times and bad.”

Laurent smiled softly, “I love you, too. Thank you for ... thank you.”

Damen slipped an arm around Laurent’s waist and pulled him closer. Laurent could talk circles around anyone. But when it came to expressing feelings, he still sometimes had difficulty. But Damen didn’t mind. Laurent loved Damen in ways that went well beyond the words, as it should be.

“Oops,” Laurent tittered, “Betty, darling, we must work on that bladder control. Come on, lets go for a little walk. Does she have a leash?”

Damen smiled, “Everything is stashed in the office, including a couple of different coats for her since it’s getting colder outside.”

Laurent snorted a little and stood up saying, “I’ll get her collar, leash, and coat on. You can clean up the mess.”

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Damen asked.

“Please tell me you bought her a collar and leash to distinguish her as the royalty she is and that it matches whatever clothing you got for her to wear,” Laurent called as he walked away from Damen without looking back or responding to his question.

Damen rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath before stating, “No, because I knew you’d hate anything I bought anyway.”

Laurent’s snort echoed as he made his way down the hall.

Damen smiled even as he cleaned up the puppy’s accident as he heard Laurent’s murmurs to the puppy, “Don’t worry, Betty, daddy is going to get you the most expensive collar, leash, and puppy coats money can buy. Papa doesn’t understand the importance of these things. What do you think pink with diamonds? Yes, I think so too ... or maybe a gold collar to compliment your white and tan coloring? Yes ... we’ll try a few on ...”

The pain of the rejection began to ease slightly in Damen’s heart. He knew it would take more time and more than a puppy for it to heal completely. But his gamble paid off and he reveled in the warm relief that coursed through his veins.

He and Laurent had work to do, but the dark cloud of anguish seemed to lift from over their heads. And as Damen put on his coat and grabbed Laurent’s from off the floor, he smiled as he walked down the hall as Laurent’s lament echoed loudly from the office, “Oh my God, was this made for peasant puppies? Nylon? Really?”

But Damen didn’t mind. He’d endure any cutting remarks on his sense of puppy fashion if it meant his beloved had a respite from his pain. Things weren’t perfect, but it was still a damn good place to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ End of this Little Story

thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. They are one of the many ships I love to follow and write about. have a lovely day, morning, evening, night wherever you are! xo

#captive prince fanfic #writing prompt #modern au #lamen #damen of akielos #laurent of vere #jokaste

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Susie, Kris, Two Frisks, Chara, Monster Kid And Flowey The Flower

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

Credit For Undertale & Deltarune goes to Toby Fox

-----------

I do have another drawing of this version of Undertale Susie,

which is in a crossover drawing.

(the only difference is that this drawing of Susie has black boots) 

but I will wait another time to post it up on here.

M.K. is called Monster Kid in the game,

the name Monroe is just a Fan Dub Name given to them.

Monroe is both a boy and girl name.

the last name Keidd is suppose to be M.K.’s Family Name.

I could of had their last name be spelled Keid

or have their last name be Kidd...

I will post this at the other place I post fan art at...

the Kris and Susie in this, are suppose to be the Undertale counterparts of the Susie and Kris from Deltarune.

I’m just gonna go watch Anime, and try to forget some stuff.

besides watching Anime, I do plan to watch a movie too.

I need to get something to eat too.

and later do some reading....

good thing about today, I was able to post that Tuckrif (Tucker x Grif) ship drawing over at the other place I post fan-art.

I’m a shipping dirtbag,

and Tuckrif is my new ship of Peanut-butter & Jam.

also Amazon better stop overdoing it with the Prime,

it’s not fair fans of SVTFOE can’t get the DVDs to have be send to their homes through the mailing.

Star Vs The Forces of Evil, Wander Over Yonder and any other Series that is still on Prime Only, Should Just Hurry and get to DVDs so fans can buy them.

I think before I watch some Anime, I will just watch Helluva Boss.

I think I will watch Ah My Goddess either tonight or tomorrow.

I think I can relate to Urd from Ah My Goddess,

because of my spiritual heritage.

no matter how many times someone reincarnates,

the spiritual heritage is stuck with you.....

for all your lives, past, present and future.

sometime when I feel really down, I think I would like to try to just lay down on the floor like how Blooky does in Undertale.

but the bed will have to do for now.

right now I’m doing okay, was feeling a little down a little bit ago.

I’m listening to Born Without A Heart by Faouzia.

so after I listen to that song, maybe a few times....

I will go watch some Anime, and I don’t care what Little Light Studios says....I still should try to watch their full videos....that talks about Anime and another video that asks if Disney Safe for Christians.

I wonder if it’s just me that is viewing the Little Light Studios,

as Toxic-Religious, it’s no wonder I want Mother/Goddess to get custody of me....even though I still believe in God and even Jesus,

and there are some friends and family that don’t act the way some toxic-religious people do.

but seriously I can’t stand when humans get all toxic-religious,

a person can be semi that way, so long as they don’t become the full thing that ends up hurting someone and causing tears.

I had a bad experience with a toxic-religious person a few years ago.

as I had explained before.

maybe it’s a good thing that I found out I am really a

Neo-Christian/Ma-Acolyte.

one of the things I really can’t stand

that some toxic-religious people do, is force convert.

converting to a religion should be of someone’s free will and heart.

plus you don’t have to go to church to prove your faith.

going to church can be optional.

I have to stay in the Aroaceflux, Gyno-Agender and Neo-Christian/Ma-Acolyte Closet with my family.

I did want to tell my Mom that I’m a Ace, but that didn’t go too well.

like I said before, I had to pretend I wasn’t after asking her thoughts about Asexuality and well I had decided not to tell her.

once I got into my room, I cried my eyes out.

there is different types of Aces, some will be Heteroromantic

or Biromantic or Panromantic, everyone has a different type of Asexuality/Sexuality/Romantic Identity.

I think things becoming better and more people becoming accepting,

might have to do with The Divine Mother/Goddess.

but that is just my view on it.

but yeah I have to stay in the Ace, Bigender Identity and New Found Religion Closet.

I still love my family, but I know I can’t come out of that closet.

I know even if I do, they wont try to do what some aggressive families do to try to “fix” someone who comes out of those closets.

they might still try to “fix” me, but still have love for me.

but the whole “fixing” wont truly make me happy.

even if there might be some positive videos from that Little Light Studios....they still shouldn’t bad mouth Anime or even Disney Movies.

I still need to check that video that talks about Disney,

but I don’t want to right now.

but if they misunderstand the Frozen Movie, then here is a clearing up.

an Act of True Love, doesn’t always have to be Romantic

and can be Family type love, which is even shown in that Maleficent Movie, where it was Maleficent’s Motherly Love for Aurora, that saved Aurora.

so of course the kiss from the Prince in that movie wouldn’t of worked,

because they didn’t have a deep bond and connection,

the kiss from the Prince would of only worked if the two of them got to know each other and fell in love, they had just met after all.

sure in some cases it can work like in the original disney’s sleeping beauty movie.

but in the Frozen I and Maleficent Movies,

both show that a true love’s kiss or a an Act of True Love,

doesn’t necessarily mean the romantic type of love,

and can be platonic family based love.

like a sister love or a mother’s love.

it does appear that there is a video called "All Are Welcome In The Church, Even LGBT" as one of Little Light Studios’s videos.

I can only hope it is full of something positive.

so I guess the first video I will try to fully watch, will be that one.

but not now, because I really don’t want to watch

any of their videos right now.

still want to wait a week or so before I watch any of their videos.

 even if there might be some positive videos from them.

I still don’t like the negative that is a bunch of pony spit.

in theory I think that the green color magic in disney,

represents the negative feelings, while the gold color represents the positive, pink could be a perfect balance of the two.

I want to try not to let toxic-religious people get to me too much.

I think I will watch Red Vs Blue, before I watch Anime.

 anyway so long as I don’t think about some stuff that make me feel bad, I should be good.

hope some of you like this drawing,

and now I’m gonna go get something to eat.

and even though I did a drawing on the day that red super-moon was suppose to happen, I ended up sleeping through it when it did finally happen.....might of been a good thing I did.

probably didn’t miss much.  

 fantasy & dreams is my sweet escape, and I know I’m a real weird gal.

see ya later and stay safe everyone.

#susie deltarune #kris deltarune #frisk the human #chara undertale #monster kid #flowey the flower #undertale fanart #deltarune fanart

[melforbes]

seaglass blue annotations

hello! i just posted the last chapter and thought i’d put together some ~fun context~ for that fic. it got way way more attention than i ever expected and for something i feel i didn’t put that much effort into i think i did in the end put a lot of effort into it so i might as well talk about it and answer some potential questions.

my favorite book of all time is the sunlit night by rebecca dinerstein (yes, that one) and something i find really compelling about that book is how sparing the prose is, forcing the reader to fill in certain gaps, and i think having to fill in those gaps makes the book a really acquired taste with which either you love it or hate it and there’s not really an in-between

i also really adore how in that book the natural world backdrop comes to life, something i find really challenging to write. recently i even read into thin air, the book about the 1996 mount everest disaster, and even though the writing was superb, i still had to google what the hillary step was because i couldn’t picture it on my own. i don’t know how people write nature because to me it feels damn near impossible, but this sparing approach really worked, so i thought i might try it out. i tend to be longwinded (gestures vaguely at this post) and wanted to have certain parts of this be a lot smaller and more contained without negating impact. whether or not i made it work is anyone’s guess. definitely not my normal style, so to speak

based on the comments i’ve received i think this might be everyone’s favorite part. in my mind age of consent by new order was playing in the background. in pretty much every fic i have a scene like this one and all of them are based on the poem first base gold by rh*annon mcg*vin from her book branches (censored because she has a tumblr and i don’t want her seeing this haha)

i absolutely can’t do the poem justice by describing what it’s about, but the simplest, most basic interpretation of the poem is that there is no better place to kiss than right here, right now, because of the past. i really like that imagery and tend to use it a lot. she as a writer has been a big inspiration for me and if you’ve read my fic true minds i should add that the nonfiction inspiration for that was directly as a result of one of her youtube videos. i particularly love how the last paragraph (stanza? im not a poet) is one big run-on sentence that’s jovial and tongue-in-cheek and colloquial and straightforward. it feels triumphant in a quiet way to me and i love how it’s done. obviously my attempts at something similar are nowhere near as insightful, but still, the most basic image of this is that there is no better place to kiss, and that’s how i felt about the two of them finding pudding in the supermarket

this part is autobiographical; while writing this last year, i went through six months of intravenous drug treatment, a month and a half of which involved long days of doctor visits on every weekday. when you’re on stuff like that for a long time you end up with a central line for better access (potential plot hole in all of this: scully never had one) but for a month and a half i got poked almost every day and strangely enough it got harder over time. the first couple you never feel, but a week or two later you start flinching, and if the needle goes in the same vein each time, it hurts the more it gets prodded. i reached a point toward the end of the in-office visits in which i would bleed a lot every time i got poked, and i can’t watch anything like that happen to me so i was looking away each time, and when i felt that the nurse was done, i would look back over, and sometimes i would be looking down at a pool of blood that i hadn’t expected to see. it’s weird, you don’t actually feel yourself bleeding, i would’ve expected a hot bloody feeling but instead it felt like nothing. and when i say a pool i mean that it would drip down beneath my elbow, stain the sheet they’d put underneath, and i wouldn’t get all of it off until i showered. i didn’t necessarily find it scary, but it was surreal and kind of pulled me out of normalizing the experience i was having. for a very long time needing iv drugs was my greatest fear and i was surrounded by that then and fine, and then, there was blood all over my arm, and like, haha, this is actually not fine. you’d think something else would’ve been scarier, but it wasn’t. and now looking back at this paragraph i wish i’d edited it differently but hey that’s life

i’d never really understood the purpose of religion as a self-driven part of life until i took anatomy in college. i was raised catholic and though culturally i understand having a religion and being raised with one, i’ve never really reached for religion when i wanted answers, and i haven’t personally understood why that’s someone’s first option. and i know there’s been plenty of commentary on the hypocrisy of dana scully as a catholic who believes in science, yada yada yada, i think everyone has read all of that by now. but what struck me while learning anatomy is that there is a kind of neuron we don’t know the function of. there are four kinds of neurons, and one of them is still a mystery to us. and then, there’s all of these different parts of human bodies that exist in a certain perfect way, but why do they exist like that? to support life, yes, but why is it that we can make comparisons? why were irises not the same color? and we name valves of the heart after religious figures. we are so hell-bent on meaning that something literal will never be enough. and all of that made me think that dana scully has god to fill in what science won’t answer, at least not yet. and there’s definitely a bigger conversation about science as denial of indigenous cultures that i am nowhere near qualified to start. after taking those classes, i think i would be more shocked if she wasn’t religious. you can ignore pretty much all of the paragraph above but it was important to me that at some point in this fic she willingly conceded that she didn’t know what would happen and that she didn’t have answers. with illness, there is no logic, there’s no thinking your way out of it, and i think that would plague her for a long time. to me, she only would accept her death when she could say she had no idea what would happen, she has no answers, there’s nothing filling in her gaps anymore, and she’s comfortable with that. and i put all of that in a paragraph about my thoughts on god because it made sense to me. there are times that just feel like you’re in a movie and there’s no one else you can say caused them. it’s not enough to build belief on but it’s enough to bring a certain kind of wonder. also one time my parents insisted on watching stripes because it was so funny and when watching it none of us found it funny at all and my parents grimaced and were like what were we on that made that good back in the day so that’s in here now haha

and now, the biggest question: does she die at the end? when i came up with the idea for this fic, i knew the beginning and ending but not the middle, and i posted this as a smaller project (ie: chapters below 3,000 words) while illness made my bigger projects harder to work on and essentially flew by the seat of my pants the whole time. i wrote the last line a long long time ago and have always seen the ending as written as the concrete ending. when i started writing this, i never intended for there to be a definitive answer to whether or not she dies. i like premature endings (the ending of girls burn brighter comes to mind) and i think that this works better without saying whether or not she lives. and i also have a hard time with giving a definitive answer because this fic very much is about death and having her die would, of course, be traumatic, but showing her living instead i think ruins any takeaways people could have. i’ve never had cancer but as a chronically ill person i think i can speak to how you never actually win with illness; the best you can do is tie, and sometimes, no matter how much effort you put in, you “lose” anyway, you lose spectacularly, and all of your effort was for nothing. i wholeheartedly believe that humans can’t emotionally or logically process natural disasters or illness, hence why much of the talk about illness in this is from mulder’s perspective as he experiences her terminal illness secondhand; that way, he doesn’t need to (but still likely will) find logic or reason or meaning for death from a terminal illness, so his discoveries and his coping mechanisms aren’t as urgently needed. had i written a chapter that describes how she lives, i think that the discussion of death in this would be voided altogether. and i also don’t believe the ending would be much different whether she lives or dies; there’s still the need for death acceptance and talking about dying, whether or not she lives, and none of the story in this fic would have happened had the characters known she would live. the whole point is not knowing.

for a little while i toyed with writing an unofficial sequel of sorts in which i spelled out what i think happens after the ending, but after realizing that that would end up being longer than the original fic and would also have some massive plot holes, i decided against it. i do have my own version and i don’t want to share that version because i never really intended for my version to be some kind of genuine sequel in which every question gets answered and everything is wrapped up and happy ever after and whatnot. it was just where my brain wandered in the same way it wanders when i watch an open-ended movie. all of that to say, if you think she lives, then she lives. if you think she dies, then she dies. it’s your decision. i’d much rather you choose than me. i never marked this as “major character” death on ao3 because, well, she doesn’t die in this fic. whether or not she dies after the fic ends, that’s for you to decide. 

thank you for taking the time to read my writing. i never expected this to blow up (it blew up for me at least, for a while it was my most popular fic ever, with i think thousands more hits than anything else i’d written) and the response has been mind-boggling and wonderful. i don’t respond to comments often because it makes me feel like a pompous jerk (”thank you for enjoying this! i, too, enjoy this thing i have written! oh ho ho!” is how it sounds to me in my head, whereas when other writers respond to comments to me it just looks like thanks man have a good day, feel free to call me a weenie) but i’ve appreciated all of them very much. THANK YOU! i hope your new year is a Whole Lot Less Shit than 2020. i don’t plan on writing more msr because i don’t really have any ideas for them. thank you for making my last time special <3

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Author Spotlight: Coffeegleek Day 3

Author : @coffeegleek​

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

At least a few revisions. Then multiple editing passes, and even with my spouse as my proofreader for the past 25+ years, and doing more editing passes before posting to AO3, I still find annoying little typos, sometimes large ones.

If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

There was a crack fic I stopped writing years ago. It was a self-challenge during one of those tumblr trope challenges. I was trying to combine all of the tropes into the same fic as they were announced. It got zero traction though so I gave up. I'd love to go back and complete it, make it better. I had the whole thing outlined too.

What do you look for in a beta?

My spouse. We've been together for decades. He's been proofreading my original science fiction work and various fandoms' fanfics since before we were married. He even proofreads my Klaine smut and doesn't blink an eye. (He's a Glee fan too and on tumblr.) He knows what I'm trying to say when I can't find the right words and supplies them. He catches things I don't. What I love the most is for my original work, he's written his own fanfic. It's BAD. It truly is, but it's so heartfelt and earnest. He even came up with a soundtrack should I ever publish my sci-fi novel and the movie or show rights be bought. You really can't get a better beta than that. <3

There’s a number of friends on tumblr that I bounce ideas off of and who give me advice for topics they know far more about than me and google. I try to thank them in my fics.

If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I’m going to steal another author’s recent answer and say that I could never do someone else’s work justice. However, I would love to see the author’s ideas for their fics even if they couldn’t write a prequel or sequel.

I suck at remembering titles and author names. There were two political fics that I would love to read more of should their authors ever decide to write in those verses again. One was where Kurt and Blaine's dads were running for president and Kurt and Blaine were along for the ride, staying in the same hotels at time (where they first met,) having to do school remotely, having to be the perfect sons for the press and Blaine being fed up because his parents were conservative Republicans. Then there was another fic where Burt was president and Kurt was the First Son living in the White House, along with Finn, and it was hard to date when your every move is watched by the press.

Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I write AU, so canon is only a word often misspelled by me. :) Seriously though, I try to incorporate as many canon elements and characters into my AU fics as I can. It's the kind of AU I like to read as well. What draws me to read and write AUs is taking canon characters, putting them into a different setting, and seeing how they'll react. At their core, they still need to remain the same in principle and have many of the same traits. Like Kurt will always love fashion and be headstrong no matter what. Blaine is always going to have that spark within himself, no matter how depressed or oppressed he gets. Burt and Carole are always going to be loving and nurturing parents at heart. Even in fics where Burt isn't woke, there's a part of him that means well. (Not one of my own fics, but one I read a long time ago.) Different circumstances will change the canon characters and make them react in different ways though. Like, Kurt could end up more withdrawn and hide his love of fashion as a matter of survival and self preservation. He or Blaine could turn into "bad boys." Coach Beiste will always have a heart of gold. Miss Pillsbury will always have a problem with messes. Things like that. I know canon. Give me all the alternate universe versions of it and I will be a happy camper.

Talk about a review that made your day.

I haven't checked for reviews on my fics in ages (because I'm an insecure chicken) so I don't remember any specifically. I do remember there were many that made my day. There are those who take the time to review every chapter. Ones who write only a short note to thank me for writing the fic - both the angsty ones and the cracky fun ones. I love it when someone mentions something that no one else has that I was hoping someone would notice because I was proud of it. I'm not a popular author and don't get a lot of kudos or comments or reblogs compared to many. So each comment and kudos means a lot to me and I'd like to publicly thank every single person who wrote one or hit that kudos button.

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

I once got a troll who decided it was his job to complain that I had misspelled hors d'oeuvres in one sentence out of an entire verse where the word was written multiple times correctly. It was a series of Klaine Advent one shots for the Empty Nest verse. At first I was shocked and replied with an apology. Then I was, "F this. The person is a troll who didn't read any other part of the fic or verse, just this one quickly written one shot entry, and if all they had to say was that I'd misspelled a commonly misspelled word, then they aren't worth my time." I deleted the comment. There's concrit and trolling. It wasn't concrit.

What advice do you have for people just starting to write?

Have fun writing, even the hard stuff. Know that it's okay to take breaks. Try your best and know you'll get better the more you write and the more you read. Pronouns are your friend and free. Don't put, "I know this is going to suck, so whatever," in your fic description. We all suck at times. It's a part of writing. But if you want folks to read it, using that as your fic's summary isn't the way to go. Just my opinions, which won't even buy you a cup of coffee.

Which fic do you most like to discuss with other people? Why?  

I think it’s pretty obvious from all of my rambling that I enjoy talking about both of my series - Empty Nest verse and A Very Hallmark Christmas verse.  I'm not a popular author and I know my fics, especially the Empty Nest verse ones, aren’t everyone’s thing, so I never get to really discuss them except with friends that I bug to death in private and via long replies to comments on AO3. (You all are saints blessed by all of the good and patient gods.) I have so much to say about them - the process of writing them, the world building, research, and character decisions that went into every single one. I know they’re not perfect. I know the Empty Nest verse grew miles beyond the ficlette about Burt and Carole that it was meant to be. I know my sense of humor in the Hallmark verse isn’t everyone’s thing either. I still worked really hard on them and am glad that I did. Empty Nest let me release a lot of the fear and anxiety I had for my Hispanic and gay son after the 2016 election. The Hallmark ones were a needed break to put some humor into my life. If others enjoyed them, great. If folks want to know more, my inbox is always open.

What's one aspect of writing fic that gets you really excited?

Writing humor even if I'm the only one that finds it funny. As I said above, writing the Hallmark Christmas movie dialogue and plot and the actors as they were filming it was a blast. Writing the commercials was fun and exciting. In my angsty fics, knowing I wrote a good scene, line, or moment that brought out all the feels. That's more of “satisfaction of a job well done” than excited.

***

Check out Coffeegleek’s Fics

Humorous Spooky Drabbles -  Humorous drabbles to spookish type prompts based on a tumblr post called October Drabble Prompts #1 by hallofceleano. The parts in bold and italic are from those prompts. Characters include Kurt, Blaine, Burt, Carole, and Finn. All fun; only #4 has some mild angst. #4 is for snarkyhag and regarding #5 - I know next to nothing about Twilight and had to look up Taylor Lautner on imdb. The liberties I took are my own.

A Very Sloppy Christmas - lucy8675309 posted to tumblr a series of gifs with Kurt dressed up as an elf. It inspired me to write the following prompt, which CoffeeAddict80 encouraged me to write as a fic:

I now want a fic where real Santa’s elf!Kurt gets drunk and vents to Blaine about all the woes of working for Santa. He’s over 100 years old and the outfits are terrible. Why couldn’t they wear clothes like the elves did in that one movie? Drunk elf Kurt has no idea he’s venting to Santa’s son.

Bonus if he wakes up and realizes he just had a drunken one night stand. He isn’t sure who it was with. Only that he’s naked, the guy in the bed beside him is naked and showing off a really great ass. Then said guy turns over and after Kurt’s done staring at his dick, he looks at the guy’s face and realizes who it is.

It’s a Twisted World -  I decided to challenge myself by combining the posted 5 weekly Klaine AU Friday themes and adding another one of my own. So that means: Farm, Fairytale, Vintage (1900’s,) Super Powers, Zombie Apocalypse, and Harry Potter World Klaine with a splash of a fic idea I thought of while in the produce section of the grocery store. Each week, the story will continue, though each part stands alone. This is not a brilliant work of perfectly composed fan fiction. What it is, is fast-paced, cracky fun, with a large dose of innuendo. At least it had my son laughing his ass off. I hope y'all enjoy it too. :)

#author spotlight #coffeegleek

[narukoibito]

charity work

Wow, so I wrote a published a thing after 10+ years away from fanfiction. Please check it out if you’re so inclined!

Summary: He'd only meant it as a joke, but here she was. Ginny Weasley, his celebrity crush, armed with economy toilet paper rolls and three dozen eggs, ready to commit a misdemeanor all in the name of charity. Muggle AU Harry/Ginny

Tumblr prompt: "You're famous and I jokingly left a comment on your social media post asking if you'll go egg my ex-partner's house with me this weekend, and I never actually expected you to respond, let alone show up Friday night with dark sweatshirts, toilet paper rolls, and three egg cartons tucked under your arm" & hp_fangal's version where Harry is the famous one, Shooting for the Stars.

FF.net | AO3

Harry flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, letting his bag slide carelessly to the ground. Sirius popped his head out from the kitchen.

“You alright there, Harry?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled from his dejected position.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and turned to Hermione, who lifted her head up from her book for a moment to give Harry a disapproving look.

“He’s been brooding all week,” she announced.

“Cho?” he asked knowingly.

“He hasn’t said, but…Cho,” Hermione nodded.

Harry made a rude gesture at his childhood best friend and godfather, who sniffed disdainfully and chortled respectively.

Yes, it was indeed his girlfriend — sorry, ex-girlfriend — who was once again souring his mood, but Sirius and Hermione didn’t know yet. He hadn’t had the heart to tell them that he’d caught her cheating on him with none other than Cedric Diggory. Not only had Cedric taken Harry’s position as a starter on the school team when Harry tore his ACL several months back, but then the recruiters who had originally come to see Harry had taken a shine to Cedric, and now several teams were making him offers. Hermione and Sirius had been going on for months about how Cho wasn’t being particularly supportive during Harry’s recovery period, but Harry had waved them off. Turns out they were more right than he could have imagined, and he simply could do without the knowing and pitying looks.

“This’ll cheer you up,” Sirius said, walking over to the wireless.

“I think something’s burning,” Harry grumbled as Sirius flicked through several stations. Sirius let out a yelp and jumped back to the kitchen, but not without first finding what he was looking for.

“Now tell me, Miss Weasley,” an unctuous female voice crowed, “about your victories off the pitch.”

Despite himself, Harry perked up. Ginny Weasley was his favorite football starter since she made a huge splash going pro at the young age of sixteen — and immediately proved her worth by leading her team to victory at her first game. He may or may not have several posters of her hanging in his closet.

“Oh you heard that I cook the meanest eggplant dish on the team?” Ginny’s sweet voice lilted over the wireless. When Harry laughed, Hermione peered at him over her book again, amused.

“That’s a very…lovely quality, my dear, but no, my avid listeners want to know all about your tumultuous love life. We all know how much you enjoy playing the field…”

Harry let out an ungraceful snort.

“I did always like playing with balls, yes,” Ginny quipped. “I’m pretty good at kicking them, so they say.”

The reporter cleared her throat loudly. “Too true. I believe one of your past paramours was reportedly found writhing on the floor when you parted ways.”

“Oh no, that was simply a handsy fan who didn’t seem to understand the meaning of ‘no,’” Ginny corrected her dryly.

“Your latest lover, Puddlemere team’s Michael Corner, and you seem to have had a bit of a nasty split,” the reporter’s voice oozed with false sympathy. “The photos of him and his assistant, Lavender Brown, in a passionate embrace —”

“You mean snogging in the dark corner of a bar?”

“Oh this must be so difficult for you,” the reporter sniffed. “You seem to have such trouble holding onto a man — they seem to prefer more feminine women over your company! Tell me, does it have to do with your being raised with six older brothers? Perhaps the rowdiness of such a boisterous family environment was not conducive for healthy relationships with men?”

Harry threw a stray cushion at the wireless, but from his horizontal position, he missed.

“Miss Skeeter, I’m not sure how my upbringing has anything to do with my boyfriends deciding to be cheating gits rather than about being forthcoming about their feelings.”

“Of course, dear. Please, tell our listeners as such a seasoned veteran, how you cope with heartbreak, especially when you uncover such deceit?”

“I’m a big fan of karma. People tend to find that what comes around goes around.”

“So mature of you.”

“And if they wake up with their house egged and teepeed, let’s hope they realize the error of their ways.”

Harry could picture Ginny’s trademark mischievous smile, and he felt his own lips curling up.

“Surely, Miss Weasley, you aren’t condoning such a crime?”

“All hypothetical, Miss Skeeter. But who am I to complain if the universe takes it upon itself to serve justice? Having grown up with my brothers, I find that anything is possible if you have enough nerve.”

As the interview wound to an end, Harry felt inexplicably lighter. He even managed to shift himself to a sitting position and found himself scrolling through Ginny Weasley’s public Instagram profile. He was momentarily distracted by a recent posting of her sticking her tongue out at the camera while cuddling with a kitten, where she alerted her fans to tune into her upcoming interview with the radio host of Me, Myself, and I.

He punched in a simple message in the comments: Caught my girlfriend snogging my replacement on my uni’s football team while I was supposed to be convalescing, and now I want to help push karma along the way this Friday. Care to lend a hand?

“You’re looking better,” Sirius observed, popping his head back into the living room.

Harry tossed his phone to the side and smiled. “Is dinner even edible anymore?”

During dinner (extra “crispy” chicken Sirius calls it, mashed potatoes, and vegetables), Harry finally caved in and told Sirius and Hermione what happened. They were so outraged on his behalf, it actually dulled his own anger enough for him to admit he was difficult to be around while he recovered, and he was probably not the best boyfriend at the time. They wouldn’t hear any of it though.

After Hermione headed home and Sirius to his study, Harry receded to his room where he took a moment to appreciate his hidden poster. Then he headed to the shower, where he may or may not have decided to relax by picturing a particularly sassy redhead. When his head hit his pillow, he immediately drifted off to a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

--

Harry let out a big yawn as he rose from his last class of the day. He paused to stretch out his right leg, which had a tendency of getting stiff after sitting too long post-surgery.

As his classmates trickled out, he whipped out his phone, already pondering where to grab take-out for his solo night in since Sirius was planning an evening out (don’t expect me home tonight). A red notification blared out at him, which was odd considering his rare use and minuscule follower-ship on Instagram. He clicked on it, wondering if someone commented on his recent post of Sirius with a big, black shaggy dog.

It was a message from…

The phone nearly slipped out of his hand.

Ginny Weasley? Bringing the phone closer to his face, he stared at the message beside her smirking profile picture.

I’m in. When and where?

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. Was he dreaming? His celebrity crush since he was seventeen, the one he had just wanked to two days ago (and countless times over the years), wanted to help him egg and teepee his ex’s place?

After a moment’s hesitation, he began punching in the details of the closest station to Cho’s.

Meet around 10?

His thumb hovered over the send button. What did he have to lose? He pressed down. He swallowed hard as three hovering dots appeared.

See you soon.

“Fuck,” Harry said aloud to an empty classroom.

--

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. Maybe someone had hacked into her account and was just having a lark. Maybe he was going to be mugged on arrival.

“Yes, that must be it,” he assured himself as he ascended the stairs to the front of the station.

“Are you H-P-Lightening?”

Harry looked around and nearly tripped over the last step. For a second, he thought he might have been right about being mugged, given the hooded figure that appeared on his right. But the figure pushed back her hood, and fiery gold-and-red hair spilling out like a curtain.

It was her. Ginny Weasley.

Standing in front of him in an oversized hoodie, a bag of toilet paper (economy size, she didn’t skimp), and several cartons of eggs. Her brown eyes glinted with mischief, and her lips were curled up in her devil-may-care smirk. She was close enough that he could not only make out the splattering of attractive freckles across her face, but he could catch what seemed to be the sweet smell of flowers.

“Er —” was all Harry could manage.

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re not him?”

“No — I mean, yes, I am. That’s me. Harry Potter.”

Her smile brightly. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Yeah, nice,” he said stupidly. “I’m a huge fan. I didn’t think, er, I never thought —”

“I seem to be a terrible influence,” Ginny laughed, and the way it made her nose crinkle sent shivers down Harry’s spine. “Since I put the idea in your head, the least I could do was help out and prevent you from getting caught.”

“Do you always rescue brokenhearted blokes on your public profile?”

“Only the really particularly pathetic ones,” she grinned back. “My publicist is always encouraging me to take on more charity work.”

“Smart,” Harry nodded sagely. “It’s good to engage with the people from time to time. Humanize you.”

She was laughing again, and he felt ridiculously chuffed that he was making Ginny Weasley of all people laugh. It did loads for his self-esteem considering Cho was always either bemused or offended by his snarky remarks.

“Exactly,” she said, holding out an extra hoodie for him. He thanked her and pulled it over this head, reminding himself that he shouldn’t be so pleased that they were matching. As he took some of the supplies from her, and they began walking, she continued, “I don’t know, your comment kind of stuck out to me.”

He glanced at her when she seemed to hesitate and was surprised when she quickly looked away, a bit of color on her cheeks.

“And the fact that you didn’t give off any stalker murder vibes was a plus.”

He laughed. “But really, thank you,” Harry said. “I was, er, brooding, as my friends and family like to call it because of Cho, and your interview cheered me up — the way you didn’t let that awful reporter get under your skin was truly something else.”

“Ah yes, Rita Skeeter,” Ginny smiled stonily. “Should have known better than to bet against my twin brothers.”

“Bet?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t believe them when they said Michael, my now notorious ex, was shifty. Swore it wasn’t true, and they bet I’d have to go on Skeeter’s show if I was wrong. They constantly goad me about my poor judgment in men, which was really what got me riled up enough to take them on. Then a week later, I caught Michael doing some yoga with his new assistant. ‘Course they tried really hard to explain why they were working on her downward dog naked.”

Harry grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said airily. “He was a prat. If he’d just broken up with me like a decent human being, I wouldn’t have had to deal with all the latest tabloids. Besides,” she glanced at him curiously, “seems like I wasn’t the only one who’s had some bad luck with romance lately.”

“Ah yes, my tale of woe. I caught my ex snogging the guy who took my starter position after I tore my ACL. All around the time when there were recruiters coming around. Her timing and choice couldn’t have been better.”  

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand touching his arm. He felt heat shoot through him.

“Ah, it’s not really fun hanging around a depressed sod.” One side of his mouth twisted up with a touch of bitterness. “She didn’t much enjoy my moods.”

Ginny snorted. “Right, because what mattered then was her having fun.”

Harry shrugged. Aside from some awkward, fumbling, and a bit sloppy kisses, he wasn’t really sure how much fun Cho seemed to have around him. She’d always been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, like about his parents or how terrible he felt about his injury or the lost his dream opportunity to go pro. Her insistence often made him clam up or shut down.

Ginny started asking him questions about his uni and his team, and soon they were chatting like old friends about football strategies and tactics, favorite moves, new players with potential. It was very possible he revealed just how well he knew her team’s stats, but if she noticed, she graciously doesn’t comment.

“Here we are,” he realized, skidding to a stop in front of a blue house. Ginny pulled him back behind a tree. He peered at her curiously, but she was scanning the quiet street and the house.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone is home,” she announced.

“There was a game today, with a party that tends to go pretty late.”

“Well isn’t that perfect?” She smiled at him as she pulled the hood back over her head, and he mirrored her motion.

With remarkable coordination and teamwork considering they didn’t speak a word but rather communicate with meaningful glances and stifled laughter, they began decorating the bushes, garden, porch, trees, and roof with toilet paper. Then they returned to the pavement with the egg cartons.

“Care to go first, Harry?” Ginny asked, a softness in her eyes despite her artful tossing and catching an egg with ease.

He picked up an egg and hesitated. The anger and betrayal churned through him, but there was a part of him that still wondered if maybe he should let it go.

“Hm, worried you’re unable to throw from here?” she asked casually, her eyes flashing with mischief.

Was that a challenge? She gave him an assessing glance before turning to the house.

“Maybe you don’t think you can hit that awful thing,” she said, pointing at a crow sticker attached to a window, grinning wickedly.

“Watch it, Weasley,” Harry said roughly. He wound his arm back and with impressive accuracy, hit the crow sticker on the window. “Hah!”

“Seemed a bit aggressive there,” she laughed.

“That thing always gave me the creeps,” he admitted sheepishly, remembering how the shadow of the crow seemed to follow him in that room. “Now then, you may be a great starter, but what about your arm aim?”

Her egg splattered noisily right at the center of the door.

“If we only conditioned our legs, we’d be pretty lopsided.”

He laughed as they continued to goad each other with more and more difficult places. But soon, they began to throw with more ferocity, each seeming to exorcise some past demons.

His egg cracked against the porch stair where she first kissed him in the rain.

“I wish she had never kissed me.”

Her egg smashed against a different window.

“I wish I had broken things off when he kept pestering me about wearing more dresses.”

Another cracked against the roof.

“Wish I hadn’t pushed myself too far for those stupid recruiters!”

One landed against the door handle.

“What does my love life have to do with how I play, Skeeter?”

As they went through the eggs, they spouted all the things wrong with their previous relationships before moving to other frustrations until all three cartons of eggs were empty, and the house was a comically gooey, papered mess.

Harry dragged a hand through his tousled hair, dazed by how much better he felt. He met Ginny’s eye and warmed at the sight of her flushed cheeks and pleased smile. She reached out and took his hand, and without a word, he let her draw him away, leaving the tangled mess of feelings about Cho and his doomed football career behind. Her hand in his felt like the only real thing in the world.

They walked together, hand-in-hand, in comfortable silence back to the station. As they drew closer, he grew nervous and turned to face her.

“Thank you, Ginny,” he blurted earnestly.

“You’re welcome. It was really fun,” she said. She seemed to hesitate for the first time the entire evening, looking over his shoulder.

Panic shot through him — was this it? Would he ever see her again?

“Actually,” she said slowly, “I rode here. I could give you a lift if you like, instead of taking the train.”

“Rode?” He echoed, turning to follow her gaze. His mouth dropped open. There, parked surreptitiously, was a gleaming motorcycle. “Bloody hell, Sirius will love you.”

“Sirius?”

“Um, my godfather. He’s got a thing for motorcycles. Treats his like it’s a national treasure,” he explained, blushing. “I’ve been riding them since he took me in.”

Something shifted in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he may have imagined it. Back was the shining amusement.

“Well then, I take it you’re not afraid of a bit of speed.” She wound around him towards her ride. She opened the storage unit and tossed him a helmet. “You’ve always got to make sure you have a nifty getaway vehicle.”

“See, this is why I enlisted an expert.”

He provided her his address, and after a quick search on her phone, she mentioned she was familiar with the area. It turned out he lived close to an old friend of hers, a Luna Lovegood, who was responsible for those quirky magazines about mythical creatures that Sirius always got a hoot out of and Hermione would turn her head disapprovingly from.

Helmet secure, Ginny hopped on and looked at him expectantly. He slipped on his helmet and sat behind her. He floundered, wondering where he should grip the seat.

“You better hold onto me.” Her voice was muffled in her helmet, but it sounded crystal clear to him. “Wouldn’t want the next headliner to be how I killed a man by not practicing safety.”

“Right — hardly a way to repay you.” He tentatively slid tantalizingly closer, wrapping his arms around her middle. God she was fit. “That, ah, safe enough?”

Ginny nodded jerkily. “Yep, that’s great.”

She lifted her left leg, kicked into gear, and soon they were roaring through the winding roads of London.

Harry loved to feel the wind whip around him and the familiar rumbling underneath him. It made him feel like he was flying. But damn Ginny wasn’t kidding when she liked it fast, and he found himself gripping her a little tighter than he had expected but enjoying every moment of it — the feel on her in his arms, the elevated rush of adrenaline due to her speed. Watching the buildings, streets, and vehicles go by in a blur of lights made the night feel magical.

All too soon, Ginny was pulling up in front of his home. He hastily pulled away, hoping that his graceless way of removing his helmet would disguise his blush. She made it seem so effortless when she pulled her helmet off and threw her head back, her hair cascading down her shoulders. They smiled at each other, not sure what to say, but he didn’t want the night to end. Harry couldn’t believe his luck, and maybe he shouldn’t push it, but when else was the universe going to wink in his direction?

“Would you like to come up?” He cringed. “I can make you a cup of tea, I mean — as a sincere thank you for being both my partner in crime and my savior.”

He braced himself for the rejection.

“Oh,” she said, sounding both surprised and breathless. “Yes. That sounds nice.”

Harry led her inside, nervously watching her glance around the cottage. “It belonged to my parents.”

“It’s lovely,” Ginny smiled, walking over to the mantle.

“It’s a good thing that Sirius isn’t home — he probably wouldn’t stop pestering us if he were.” He scrambled to tidy some of the papers and books on the coffee table.

“Is that him?” she asked, pointing to a photo of Sirius with a ten-year-old Harry in his arms. Harry was laughing really hard, his wire-frame glasses knocked askew, and Sirius’s attention was completely on Harry, a wide grin on his face and affection shining in his eyes. It was one of Harry’s favorite photos, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about Ginny seeing him when he was a bespectacled, scrawny boy.

“Yes,” he said, as she continued to gaze at the photo thoughtfully. “Er, kitchen?”

She let him lead her away. “Your home is a lot cleaner than my parents’ place. Though I suppose that isn’t too difficult to achieve. I have six older brothers and all.”

“Sounds nice. It’s just been Sirius and me, sometimes a dog — he can never resist a stray — and occasionally my pseudo uncle when he needs a place to crash.”

She pulled the dark hoodie over her head, and his breath hitched when her jumper lifted to reveal a sliver of pale, freckled skin. Harry hastily set about heating up the kettle, trying to remember his train of thought.

“Can’t imagine what it would have been like with so many more people.”

“Rowdy and loud,” she said, her affection in her voice obvious. “Never a dull moment.”

“Was it hard? Being the only girl.” He rummaged in the cupboard, praying that Sirius hadn’t eaten the last of the biscuits.

“Sometimes, but it taught me to be…inventive.”

“Sneaky you mean?”

“When I had to be. They insisted for the longest time that I couldn’t play football with them, so I snuck out at night and practiced myself.”

“You certainly showed them,” Harry laughed, emerging victorious with a tin of biscuits he’d baked with Hermione a few days prior — hers had come out a bit rockish despite following the recipe exactly, but his were decent. “Did you always want to play professionally?”

“Yes.” She thanked him when he placed a steaming cup in front of her, offering sugar and milk. “What about you?”

Yes was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason he paused. “I love football. I started playing as a kid, first with kicking the ball around the yard with Sirius.”

“Were you any good?”

“Um, was the youngest starter in secondary. Was scouted for my uni’s team.”

She gave a low whistle of surprise. “A lot of promise, then.”

“Hardly compares to you,” he smiled.

“If you want, I can refer you to some of the best physical therapists. You can be back to where you were in less than a year.”

Harry stared at the steam from his cup as he nibbled on a chocolate biscuit. For some reason, the prospect didn’t seem to strike a chord.

Ginny tilted her head. “It’s just a thought.”

“Oh — um, thank you. That’s really generous,” he cringed at his word choice, “I just —”

“This thing with your ex will pass, Harry.”

“I know — I mean, it kind of already has.” He fell silent, not really sure exactly what he was trying to convey. “I was really upset earlier about the whole thing — Cho and my replacement going pro in my stead. But right now, I just feel….relief?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling foolish and confused, but Ginny sipped her tea and gave him time to sort himself out.

“I love football and always will, but don’t know if…if I was all that upset about the recruiters so much as — ” He faltered, not sure where he was going with this. She reached over and squeezed his arm encouragingly. “As disappointing Sirius.”

“Your godfather?” she asked softly.

Harry nodded jerkily. “Yes. He was best mates with my dad. Practically brothers.”

He went quiet again, lost in his thoughts.

“I don’t know Sirius, but the way he looks at you in those photos makes it hard for me to think anything you’d do could disappoint him, Harry,” she said, a fierce look on her face.

A lump formed in his throat, and he cleared it several times, feeling heat crawl up his neck.

“My dad was about to go pro when…” Harry swallowed hard, his voice thick. He reached over and took her hand in his, marveling at how small and smooth her skin was. “When he and my mum got in an accident. A drunk driver on Halloween.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t mind,” he said and meant it. He was surprised considering he never talked about his parents, but with Ginny, it came so naturally. When she looked at him like that, he felt like he could tell her anything. “I suppose — I wanted to fulfill their dream — dad’s and Sirius’s.”

He stopped, taken aback by his admission. He glanced down at their joined hands as her thumb gently caressed his knuckle. Was that why he had been so upset lately? He and Cho had been on the outs even before his injury.

“Everyone always says how I look just like him. Except for my eyes. I’ve got my mum’s eyes.”

His heart pounded in his chest at the way her warm brown eyes stared up at his. “You’ve got the greenest eyes. They’re green as — ” She stopped, blushing.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Green as?”

“Er — I’m blaming it on the relentless practice making me barmy, but I first thought green as a freshly pickled toad.”

They both burst out laughing, the mood lightening immediately. Ginny withdrew her hand to cover her face, which glowed like the setting sun. His hand felt strangely bereft without hers.

“So what is your dream?” “Erm — I don’t know,” he admitted. He thought hard about his hobbies outside of football. “I guess…maybe becoming a cop or detective? Solve crimes, help people.” “So you’re not usually the type to egg someone’s house?” she teased. “Ha! No, not exactly, but it was worth it.” Getting to meet you. “Though don’t get me wrong, I’m not above breaking rules. Had a bit of a reputation back in the day.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “A troublemaker, are you?”

“Trouble usually finds me,” he grinned back.

They continued to talk late into the evening. Between all the banter, Harry found himself revealing a lot more of himself than he ever expected. Ginny, to his delight, seemed equally comfortable, even sharing a dark experience about a run-in with Tom Riddle, a wealthy and well-liked wealthy football team owner, which had Harry gripping his mug so tightly he nearly shattered it. But she carefully uncurled his fingers and her touch softened the edge of his anger. He never wanted to stop talking to her, getting to know her. Before they knew it, it was nearly three in the morning.

“It’s getting late,” she finally said, and he agreed reluctantly. They exchanged numbers and even took a photo together (would it be too creepy if he set it as his background?).

As he walked her outside, he wondered if it would be too strange or forward to offer his bed (he would obviously take the couch) or maybe call a cab so that she’d have to come back soon to pick up her motorcycle. He was jarred from his thoughts when he nearly walked into her.

“I had a wonderful night,” Harry said. “Best one in…I can’t even remember.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Do you think we can — do this again?”

“Have more exes who have done you dirty?”

He barked out a laugh. “Maybe not an ex, but I know a bully or two. Really, I’d love to see you again. You can even decide whether we commit another crime or not.”

Her lips quirked up. “Not sure that’ll help you become a cop, but yes, I’d really like that.”

They stared at each other, neither wanting to move away first. When the pressure in his chest grew unbearable, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began to turn and walk back towards his house.

“I guess I’d better… Goodnight, Ginny.”

Stupid berk, he fumed. So much for being brave.

“Harry?” she called out.

He turned around to see her running toward him, a hard, blazing look of determination in her face. She threw her arms around him as he opened his, automatically wrapping around her. And without thinking about his nerves, her fame, his crush that had blossomed into much, much more in only hours, he kissed her. There was nothing else, just Ginny, her lips sliding over his, her sweet-smelling hair in his hands, her body pressed against his. He never wanted it to end. After what felt like several sun-lit days, they broke apart.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “That was…”

“Yeah,” she said. “It was.”

They finally pulled away. He probably looked like a besotted fool with his mile-wide grin, but he couldn’t work himself up to care when Ginny was grinning up at him like that.

“So I’ll call you? Maybe — maybe we can get together tomorrow, er — I guess today?”

She bit down on her lower lip as her grin grew. She reached up and adjusted his skewed glasses. “Yeah, today.”

“A proper date,” Harry felt the need to say.

“I’ll let you woo me and everything,” Ginny chuckled.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

But instead of moving away, they leaned in and kissed again. They’d go their separate ways…in due time.

#hinny #Harry/Ginny #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #fanfiction #i wrote a thing #tumblr prompt #Muggle AU #football | soccer player Ginny #football | soccer player Harry #lots of sass and flirting #i can't believe i wrote this after all this time away #meet-cute #Ginny is the famous one #fluff #humor #My writing

[cryoculus]

Hello! I love the blog, was wondering of you can do a soulmate au for akaashi or bokuto? Maybe one about sharing the same tattoo? Thanks even if you reject!

» Word Count: 2,650 wordsCross-posted on AO3

This ask was sent literally a year ago, and I am so sorry for not filling this (and all the other requests dumped into my inbox) any sooner! This is part one for a reincarnation/soulmate AU for Bokuto because I’ve already done the matching tattoos one with Daichi, whoops. 

—

“And here we have the Crimson Dream, as depicted on a white canvas with red paint by none other than Sakurauchi Hide-san.”

Awed whispers resonated in your little tour group as your guide spared you a few minutes to observe the beautiful yet macabre painting among many others hung on the walls of the museum. Photographs and the like were strictly prohibited, and you’ve been giving your best friend, Kinuye, the cold shoulder when she opted not to tell you.

“What am I supposed to do with this, then?” you muttered, gesturing vaguely at the disposable camera hung around your neck. “You could’ve stopped me when I got it at the gift shop.”

Kinuye giggled, tucking a tuft of loose, brown hair behind her ear. “Well, for one, you looked so excited to document our first date in forever. What kind of friend would I be to take that away from you?”

You scoffed. “A practical one.”

“Hm. While you do have a point, you could always use that for other things, right?” She grinned, and dear god, you still rued the day the universe had decided that she would be the pretty friend. “Tetsurou will come pick us up a little later. Is there anywhere you’d like to go to next?”

Frowning, you asked, “This Tetsurou guy—he’s your boyfriend, right?”

She nodded gingerly. “Yup. Total sweetheart, I tell you. You’ll love him!”

You hummed in contemplation, wondering if you really will love the guy, as Kinuye had insisted. She’d started sending you photos of herself doing weird poses with her old Organic Chemistry professor only a few months ago. While he didn’t look like someone that would deliberately break your best friend’s heart, there was something off-putting about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

It’s not because he was older, really. Dating older people was normal in college. It was more because you convinced yourself that you knew him from somewhere, but couldn’t recall how.

“Now, moving on to the next work of art…”

The two of you shuffled along as the tour guide prattled on about the origins behind the next piece over. As a painting major, your heart practically melted when Kinuye texted you the previous week, saying that she’d scored the two of you tickets for the new art museum that opened a few blocks from your university. It’s been the talk of your department for weeks, and the tickets had sold out on the first day of the pre-sale. You weren’t lucky enough to get your hands on them, yourself, but life had apparently decided that you shall also be bestowed with your pretty friend’s blessings.

“Hey, that one reminds me of the painting you have in your living room,” Kinuye whispered, pointing somewhere behind you. With one eyebrow raised, you craned your head to sneak a glance at what she was pertaining to—only to be met with the sight of a massive tapestry framed at the other side of the hall.

As most tapestries were, the fabric that depicted a vast, orange sky with spires of land jutting from the clouds was being displayed behind a stretch of conservation glass. A few visitors were standing in front of it, murmuring among themselves while sharing contemplative stares. There was even a golden plaque placed underneath, but you were too far away to read the inscription.

But Kinuye was right. It did look eerily similar to the twilight painting you once did for your scenery final.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, but did you get your reference off the Internet or did you see it with your own eyes?” your best friend wondered, genuine curiosity brimming in her gaze. “It practically looked like a screenshot, you know. One of my favorites for sure.”

“Is that your way of telling me that you didn’t like the portrait I gave you for your birthday?” You pouted.

Kinuye gasped, appalled at your accusation. “I adore every single piece you make, and you know it! It’s just that…there’s something about that painting in particular, you know? I remember you holing yourself up in your apartment for days just so you could finish it before finals week ended. Now, the fan art for your original is being displayed at a museum—”

“That tapestry is not fan art, Kinuye,” you said in-between chuckles as your gaze wandered back to the twilight sky just a few feet away. “I guess we just happened to witness the same thing.”

One side of her mouth quirked upward. “Eh? So you did see it with your own eyes. Where is it? Were you on a hiking trip? Is it back in Hokkaido? You’re going to take me there, right?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair with playful exasperation. “You’re so demanding.”

“If some person made the effort to make a damn tapestry of the same scenery you painted for a final requirement, then it just means that it’s that amazing, right?” Kinuye folded her arms across her chest, declaring, “You will take me there.”

She was practically the first friend you’ve made when you moved to Tokyo, so of course you’d want to take Kinuye to places you knew she would like. But how were you supposed to bring her somewhere you’ve only seen in the plane of your dreams?

“I’ll think about it,” you told her, not really meaning the words.

“And that concludes our guided itinerary,” the guide up front said, almost sounding relieved. “You may now take a look at the rest of the artworks displayed in this wing on your own accord. But do refrain from going beyond as the other wings are still under construction. Thank you for visiting the Akaashi Museum for Fine Arts, and we do hope you’ll support the institution as time flows on.”

As time flows on. Those are some strange parting words.

Once your group dissolved into pairs and individuals, Kinuye seized your wrist so she could drag you off to the tapestry that she’d suddenly went crazy about. There were more people viewing the frame than earlier, but the two of you managed to get a decent spot, nonetheless. There, you could read the words etched onto the plaque much more clearly.

The Dawn of Our Ruinby Akaashi Keiji, 2014

“Says here that the guy who made this finished it on his third year of high school. So you’re the one who did the fan art after all, huh, (Name)-chan,” teased Kinuye as she carefully went over the rest of the details. “Oh, and he’s also the son of the museum’s director! Really runs in the family, huh?”

Her words, however, were a bit muted in your ears, given that your attention was ensnared by the artist’s interpretation of his own work.

“When heavenly fire swathes the clouds with reds and oranges, the rage of the gods cannot be fathomed by mortal minds. Those who oppose their justice will be struck down to the earth, where they will perish with their dying eyes transfixed on the fading daylight.”

You saw a beautiful sky at the dregs of twilight. Akaashi Keiji saw clouds on fire.

“You ladies seem pretty into that piece, huh?”

Startled, you whip your head back to face whoever addressed you and Kinuye so abruptly. There, a man who seemed no older than the two of you stood with his pockets shoved into his sleek black overcoat. He stood tall above the both of you, his grin blindingly bright. But the most peculiar thing about him, aside from his streaked, bouffant hair, was definitely the molten gold of his eyes—so mesmerizing that you’d almost forgotten he’d asked you a question.

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered. “I—”

“She painted something that looks exactly the same as this one!” Kinuye interrupted, patting your shoulder proudly. “She won’t tell me where it is, but she did promise to take me there someday.”

You shot her an incredulous look. “I did not make any promises, Kinuye.”

“I’m Yoshitaka Kiyune, and that’s (Surname) (Name),” she introduced. Your friend merely smiled at you like a Cheshire cat, before balking off at the stranger about your supposed skill with the canvas and brush. You could only shrink to the side when said stranger responded with the same extroverted eagerness that Kinuye practically exuded on the daily.

“Whoa! You got the highest mark for your version of this? I haven’t seen it, but I already know you deserve it,” he said, eyes glittering with awe. The wonder in his voice wasn’t staged. You’ve been on the receiving end of half-meant compliments all your life, and you could tell that his words were nothing but genuine.

Kinuye perked up from beside you. “Oh, if you don’t mind, can we ask for your name…?”

The golden-eyed man’s smile softened. “Koutarou. Bokuto Koutarou. I’m one of the curators for the museum.”

“You’re a curator?” you repeated, disbelief lining your features.

Bokuto hollered out loud, earning a few looks from the nearby visitors. “Ah, I get that a lot. I don’t look the part, but I know good pieces when I see them. I’m the one who’s in charge of this wing after all.”

You blinked at him, at a loss for words. “So, you know the person who made this, then?”

“Of course!” He nodded vigorously. “The Akaashis are a family friend of mine, and the dude who put this gigantic thing together is practically my best friend. Like hell I’ll leave out his best work to gather dust in their basement.”

“I see…” Your voice trailed off when your gaze latched back onto the tapestry. The details were breathtaking, each thread carefully placed where they could bring the depicted image to life. This close, you could see that, indeed, it wasn’t the sky that’s orange. The puffy white clouds were covered in a thin blanket of fire, as if the rage of the gods Akaashi had spoken of hasn’t boiled over yet.

“You know, I could sign your pieces up to be displayed on here, too.”

Your body reacted before your mind could even process the words. You felt your hands grow cold within a second, the chill spreading to the rest of your skin. Did you hear him right? Did the curator for the museum you thought you’d never be able to visit within the month just offer to display your art in the newly opened wing?

“You can refuse if you don’t want to though,” Bokuto supplied, a sheepish look twisting his face. “It’s just that I’m friends with Professor Konoha, and he’s been telling me about a certain student that had her own rendition of Akaashi’s Dawn, and that her pieces were, quote, out of this world.”

Feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up on your face, you turned your head a little to the side. “K-Konoha-sensei is a little superfluous with his compliments sometimes…”

He shook his head. “Konoha is the most honest guy I know! When he’s playing favorites, that just means your stuff is worth something.” Bokuto then reached into his coat before handing you a small, rectangular card. He grinned once more, and you could feel your blush worsen by the second.

“If you’re interested, just give me a call, and we can talk about it over lunch! Or coffee. Or—I dunno. Whatever you’d like.” The look in his eyes was so hopeful, you thought it would be a crime to turn him down.

You gulped, studying his business card for a few seconds before keeping it inside your bag. “T-Thank you, Bokuto-san—”

“Oh, don’t be so formal with me.” He pouted. “Back then you told me—ah, I mean… I’d prefer it if my future clients didn’t address me so stiffly.”

“Alright…Bokuto.” You spoke his name carefully, feeling how the syllables fit in your tongue. “I’ll call you once I’ve made up my mind.”

The curator clapped his hands together, like a child promised with a toy. He just wouldn’t stop smiling, and you felt as though he won’t do so any time soon. Beside you, you could feel Kinuye giving you one of her Looks, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Alright, thanks a lot, (Name)—uh, (Surname). You, too, Yoshitaka. It was nice meeting the two of you, but I’ll be going now,” he sighed wistfully, like he didn’t want to leave. “I have a meeting with the directors in a few minutes, and Keiji might just yell at me for being late. Again.”

You let out a soft laugh. “It’s okay, Bokuto. Thank you again for the opportunity.”

With a single nod of the head, Bokuto strode off to the restricted area of the museum, possibly where the offices were located. You were about to ask Kinuye what time her boyfriend would come pick the two of you up, but the Look she was sending your way only intensified once Bokuto was out of sight.

“He’s into you,” she spoke flatly. “He is so into you.”

Your eyes widened and you could feel yourself flush at her words. “W-What do you mean?”

“(Name), don’t act dense. You’ve had boyfriends in the past. I’m sure you can tell if a guy likes you or not.”

“He was just being nice!” you reasoned. “He’s friends with Konoha-sensei, so he must’ve seen some of my work. It’s purely professional—”

“With the way he was looking at you like you’re his next mistake?” Kinuye chuckled, patting your shoulder affectionately. “As if.”

Your bottom lip quivered with the itch to have the last word. “H-He’s older!”

“Tetsurou is a good six years older than me, and we’re doing mighty fine,” she argued with a smirk. “Come on, just admit that the pretty curator is into you and we can have lunch.”

“B-But—”

Your protest was interrupted by the sound of Kinuye’s ringtone, and she immediately fumbled around her bag for her phone. Her sea green eyes lit up when she checked the caller ID. “Just in time. Tetsurou’s already waiting for us out front.” Stuffing her phone back, she flashed you a faux-angelic smile. “(Name)-chan, you can continue wallowing in your denial later, but I would really prefer if you just owned up to it.”

“Whatever,” you sighed in defeat. “Let’s go. I’m starved.”

As the two of you made your way down the marble steps that led outside, you felt the sun practically glaring down on the both of you. Summer in Tokyo was excruciating in its own right, and you looked up to the sky just to give the big ball of fire a glare of your own.

However, in the distance, just a few buildings away, you spotted a bird—no, a creature in flight. It was too far away for you to decipher what it really was, but you could somehow make out the shape of massive wings jutting out from its back. Too big to be a bird, too alive to be a plane.

Remembering that you had a camera at your disposal, you raised it to your face so that one eye was posed on the viewfinder. It was one of those newer models that had a decent zoom in feature, but identity of the figure in the sky remained unknown when it promptly disappeared up into the heavens, high enough where no human could hope to reach.

“(Name)-chan, are you taking a picture of something?”

You let the camera fall, the strap straining against the back of your neck. Kinuye was looking at you expectantly from where she’s waiting beside an unfamiliar car.

Exhaling a deep breath, you shook your head. “No. Sorry,” you told her, before jogging down the rest of the steps.

#haikyuu!! #bokuto koutarou #fukurodani #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuu hc #soulmates #man i should really fix my tagging system #lol-life101 #hqscenario

[scifinal]

DW s12e03 "Orphan 55" or The Importance of Not Conveying a Message

I swear this is not a Doctor Who fan blog - there's simply no denying that what DW has become as of now is a major and highly influential sci-fi franchise, and there's also no denying that last week I, regrettably, dedicated two days of my life to binging its, as of now, most recent season (and to think I could've been re-watching series D of Blake's 7 instead!), which, in turn, led me to doing what I've had in mind for quite some time now – creating this blog (and returning to tumblr, which I wasn't planning on doing). I wrote my review on the season's finale just yesterday, but there are plenty more things in this season that, I feel, need to be touched upon.

So, here I am, doing just that.

Part One: The Idea

Now, I ask you to imagine a story. Imagine a story in which a neglectful mother leaves her child and, as years go by, gets so overwhelmed with guilt she decides to give said child a gift hoping that maybe, just maybe, this gift will make up for that horrible thing she did years ago. The mother wants to give her child a literal world as a gift. So she picks a planet that nobody will ever claim, an orphan planet, and tries to raise money to afford terraforming it. She becomes a mother to an orphan planet in an attempt to become a mother to her orphan child.

This sounds like a beautiful story. It is a beautiful story.

Part Two: The Science

Doctor Who, which started out as an educational show for schoolkids, is, as of now, at heart, a space opera. There is nothing inherently bad in space operas: these are merely a subgenre of science fiction that focuses on relationships between its characters and social issues, with little to no regard or often at the expense of the "sci" in "sci-fi". Space operas can be beautiful. "Dark They Were, and Golden-Eyed", one of my favourite stories by Ray Bradbury, and one of my favourite short stories period is a space opera. "The Stainless Steel Rat" series by Harry Harrison is a space opera. "Ensign Flandry" by Poul Anderson is a space opera. I love them all.

The surprisingly hard thing with writing space operas is that you have to be careful with science. What I mean by that is that a writer behind a space opera project has to be careful with inventing his technobabble in case he faces a necessity of explaining something. The writer has to be careful and make his technobabble so illegible yet science-y that his audience has no choice but to roll with it, regardless of whether they have the faintest idea what the words the writer has used mean or not. The space opera technobabble has to sound science-y but otherwise has no business using scientific terms that might happen to make some sense to an audience member that happens to be slightly more educated than average and thus more perceptive of your nonsense (bonus points if what the writer has created is not as good as they themselves think it is and that slightly more educated audience member has already gotten so tired of The Work that they unintentionally begin to catch more factual mistakes than they would had the author not oversuspended their disbelief), because at that point...

...Science Says "Hello, I'm Still Here!" (Part Three)

The third episode of the twelfth season of Doctor Who gave its seemingly made-up term "orphan planet" a very clear definition: a previously habitable world that, through processes which may vary in nature, has become unable of supporting sentient, if any at all, life. Here's an excerpt from the Doctor Who fan wiki:

Again, a fairly clear definition.

Except...

"Orphan planet" is an actual scientific term. There are many synonymous terms used to describe it, but, basically, an orphan planet is a planet that doesn't belong to a star system and travels on its own. Here's an excerpt from Wikipedia (I do realise that it isn't a reliable source, but in this case this actually is a correct definition):

And this isn't a rare term, either. In fact, the concept of a rogue, or orphan, planet is fairly common in science fiction – a strange cold, inhospitable world, incapable of supporting life, travelling through the vast cosmos all on its own, fearsome and unpredictable.

Now, why the difference between two definitions of an otherwise well-known occurrence?

Because the story I asked you to imagine in the beginning of this post wasn't enough.

Part Four: The Need for Relevance

There's no arguing that, in some way or another, every piece of media captures the time its creator lives in through the lense of their worldview. It might be obvious in things like clothing, technology, or societal constructs they, the author, perceive as normal or abnormal. There is no arguing that every piece of media ages, and no arguing that most media produced for mass audiences has to be relevant. And science fiction set in the future, surprisingly enough for some, is not an exception; more than that, it may even age worse than other genres as technology develops beyond what creators of science fiction of the past could possibly imagine.

One way of compensating that aging is creating an ever-relevant story. The reason the original trilogy of Star Wars still stands despite its dated effects and tech is not only that it's set in an alien world, but also that it tells a fairly simple story that is bound to be relatable for years to come: it's a journey a hero sets on to right the wrongs. The reason the original Star Trek is good after all these years despite its dated, er, everything technical is that its themes are relatable, its morals are clear, its characters – well-defined. Blake's 7 is wonderful (I mean, this is the third or fourth time I'm mentioning this fairly little-known show in two posts, it should be clear that I love it) not only because of its cheesy British-TV-sci-fi-show-shoestring-budget effects, late-70s-future-fashion outfits charm and well-done models, but because of its clear idea that's bound to last for ages: there will always be an oppressor, there will always be the oppressed, there will always be those who resist the existing regime.

But creating a story with a long-lasting theme is not the only way to being appreciated. We live in an era of information, and we live in an era of that information being at our fingertips, and we also live in an era in which, as always, people want to make profit. Fast profit.

And a much easier way of making profit is not making a story that will last forever, but a relevant story, a story with which its intended audience will resonate right now and not over a prolonged period of time.

This is the time for us to again return to the story I asked you to imagine in the beginning. That story is timeless. Its themes will last as long as there are orphans in the world, and as long as there are neglectful parents, and as long as guilt exists. It's a good story.

But people want more profit than a story that is merely good can make. People want a good story that is also currently relevant.

And so they add a currently relevant theme to it.

Part 4: Additions Have Got to Be Made

There's nothing inherently wrong with adding a new theme to your already existing storyline: it may lead to exploring new depths you didn't expect would open up. The problem arises when said theme is nothing but pandering and is there only to admit the existence of something so the audience can say "I know about this thing that they've mentioned", as if that gives them a figurative gold star, and get back to their business, satisfied that some story they connected with acknowledged a problem that they feel something about. This is pandering.

Now, what does this have to do with the two different definitions of one term and that story?

Part Five: Here's What I Think Is the Problem

I don't think that at the early stages of writing the screenplay for "Orphan 55" DW's definition of the term "orphan planet" was all that different from what an orphan planet actually is. On the contrary, I think the person who first pitched the story did have in mind actual interstellar objects – otherwise they would've devised a new term for uninhabitable planets; besides, almost everything in the episode makes sense without an orphan planet being a once inhabitable world. I also believe that this change was thrown in towards the end of writing the actual script, because then it would probably be written in a way that allows the idea of their version of an orphan planet to be more developed. So why did they, in my opinion, even add that?

You guessed it. Pandering. My best guess is that the higher-ups wanted to throw something "hip" into the story, to add something "relevant", because they wanted a bigger resonance and thus a more profitable episode. And what could be more relevant that the fact that we, the humanity, have kind of screwed our planet up and now everybody's talking about this?

This is the reason they've changed the definition of a pre-existing term. It's not that they wanted to make a statement: they wanted to make money. It's not that they wanted to raise awareness: they wanted to raise their profits. The message wasn't intended as a warning directed towards people who may not know or do not care about the subject: it was a corporation pandering towards those who already agree with it.

It hurts me to write this; I genuinely want to believe this isn't the case. I genuinely want to believe that the addition was made by some well-meaning script editor – but I can't. We live in a world in which corporations can and do use important messages as a means to profit off of people's beliefs. The optimistic option just isn't that probable.

And in the End...

Imagine a flower. Imagine a tender flower on a small flowerbed; a beautiful flower, carefully tended to, lovingly grown, a flower that will bloom for a long time. And next to it, a bigger, more colourful one, a flower that grabs your attention, but only for a short moment – and for no other reason that its life is so short. The big flower will wither, and it will wither soon, and the small one will go unnoticed simply because it's not as bright, and not as big... but it is beautiful when you notice it, and it will bring a smile to your face when you notice it again.

That story about a mother, her child, and a planet was a good story, but its theme about being an orphan wasn't what grabbed the viewer's attention: it was the blunt message about saving our habitat, and it distracted from the actual plot and its own underlying theme.

Your story is your flowerbed. A bright and resonating theme will live on for only as long as it stays popular, for as long as the public is interested in it, and the second that interest is lost, your flowerbed of a story dies with it. If that was your intent – you did well. But if you tend to your garden for the future generations to see, don't make it about here and now, make it about everywhere. Make it about always. Make it so the bright and eye-catching, and short-lived isn't what people know your garden for.

#doctor who #doctor who review #thirteenth doctor #critique #review #spilled thoughts #long reads #long post #sci fi #sci fi review

[popculturebuffet]

Giant Days (Boom) #1 “Like A Sexy Moon”

In honor of Giant Days grand finale one-shot this week, we go all the way back to the beginning of it’s long and storied ongoing where three first year university students consisting of a flighty energetic goth, a hardboiled detective metaphorically in the body of a med student, and a cheerful and naive small town girl whose mostly hair try to make it through lunch without chaos ensuing. Spoilers: Chaos ensues. Class, and a heartfelt mega-paragraph about my love of the series, is under the cut. 

A few years ago, i’d say about 2016, my mom had her annual oscar party. This isn’t all that relevant to the story, and reveals that even at 27 (I kept forgetting to correct my age on my blog), soon to be 28, I still live at home, but it’s important because it’s where I first read giant days. Buying the first volume during a comixology sale that had it for all of three bucks, I lapped up the series almost immediately,  then when I got home got my hands on every issue that had been out at the time and caught up asap, following the series since then to it’s conclusion this week. , only missing the “Where women blow and men plunder” special. For the past few years, in an ever changing comic book landscape where titles come and go, start strong and peter out or are just plain great or foul from the start but leave all the same , i’ts been my rock. My mountain in a sea of ever changing titles... and Wednesday said mountain breaks off and floats off into the either, maybe to become a new campus for the university of north carolina in the sky I dunno. The point is the series means a lot to me and it’s sad to see it go, even if it’s writer John Allison probably won’t leave my life and knowing him our heroes probably will return, or at least one or two of them will, someday, it’s still a sad end to a heartfelt, ungodly hilarious, sometimes rediculous but always intresting journey. My intrest may of waxed and waned, as is expected when a book runs 4 years, but it never left  my heart. So join me won’t you as I go back to where it all began.. not with the whole volume, but with the first monthly issue of giant days. 

------------------------- Giant Day is the creation of John Allison, who before creating this and other print works By Night and Steeple, which having not read past issue 1 or read it yet respectively will certainly pop up here eventually, was the creator of a large number of web comics, all of which I discovered thanks to Giant Days, in part because Giant Days itself is a Spin-Off from Allison’s second comic strip, and his most famous work pre-Giant Days: Scary Go Round

Scary Go Round itself was a spinoff/sequel to Allison’s previous comic strip Bobbins, originally following two minor characters from that strip before they were slowly shoved out of the strip in favor of Shelley Winters... and yes the name i intentional, not the actress from Cheers but a bubbly red head with a skewed sense of reality and a can do spirit and her two best friends: local layabout with a heart of gold Ryan, one of shelly’s old friends and Amy, the daughter of Shelley’s ex-boss, a sharp tounged young woman with a healthy libidio who grows from a spoiled princess to a responsible buisness owner. The three deal with relationship issues, wacky shenanigans.. and the supernatural stuff that happens in their town of Tackleford because it’s a hub of spoopy shit Just in case you thought it was just his other print works that were kinda weird in comparison to the mostly grounded Giant Days, nope. While his stuff post the original bobbins is well grounded in character work, it’s all got a tinge of weird to it. If you have the time check it out. While some things may fly over your head unless you read the original bobbins, and I strongly suggest you don’t, it’s otherwise a very good read and very much the blue print for his stronger later stuff. 

And as noted it’s from this weird and wonderful early goop we get the protaganist of this book: Esther DeGroot, a perky goth girl who intitally showed up with her best friend Sarah and their muscle Big Lindsay to have LIndsay beat amy into the ground for chatting up a singer they liked. Thankfully she quickly grew out of having her friends beat up college drop outs and instead became a weird, snarky goth and rival to Shelley’s snarky buttoned up sister Erin for the heart of local shy awkard lab assitant Eustace “The Boy” Boyce, himself introduced as fumbling assitant to local inventor and longtime pal of Shelley’s Tim. And you can now see why I had to get into everyone else as SGR’s characters tend to intersect and that web only widens. 

Esther would eventually win, and Erin would eventually end up in hell then forgotten from everyone’s memories shortly after, with Esther and Eustace staying together for the duration of the strip and through many shenanigans and were actually a rather adorable couple. By this time Esther and Eustace were just as much leads as the main three and Esther was a close friend of Ryan’s to the point he and Sarah went out briefly in their Senior Year.. when Sarah was 18 thankfully. Though Ryan did get punched over it by a drunken awkard teenager so things sorted themself out. Big Lindsay quitely disappeared and was revealed to have gottten pregnant. Both would later show up in Giant Days. The strip ended, after a soft launch for the next strip which we’ll get to in a second, with Esther and freinds graduating, Ryan and Sarah breaking up, Shelley leaving town (She’d later return but story for another time), and Ryan and Amy, who had a whole will they or won’t they thing, getting together. 

Allison did this for a reason: He felt Scary Go Round was collapsing under it’s mound of Continuity and thus decided to switch to a fresh cast. Same continuity but with less ties to the old so new readers wouldn’t be turned off. Thus came Bad Machinery. Set up during the waning days of SGR, it followed Sarah’s weird sister Lottie, her sluthy best friend Shauna and a bunch of other bright young kids i’m only not getting into because i’ve introduced enough characters and most of the ones i’ve introduced are either vital to SGR or show up in Giant Days , but are all fantastic, focusing more on the mystery while also having some coming of age stuff of it’s own as by the series end years later, the characters all grew into their late teens. It’s an excellent read and again worth checking out if you haven’t and unlike SGR is in print with the print versions adding more pages to the story and revising bits. I haven’t read them but I intend to eventually because of the revisal, but if you can’t afford them the entire originals are online free. 

Bad Machinery would later be a hit in it’s own right, as the print collections show, but in it’s first years it was actually a shaky proposition to uproot everything, replace almost the entire cast (Though Ryan and Amy, now married, stayed around as supporting cast, with Ryan being the kids teacher and Amy eventually mentoring Shauna), and change the genre from 20 somethings and teens slice of life to a bunch of 11-12 year olds coming of age and solving mysteries. And at first things dipped a bit apparently and Allison panicked and started working on a backup plan. And that backup plan was where Giant Days comes in: A Spinoff following esther and two new characters as they navigate college. He did three self published issues of it, the first put online, before focusing back on bad machinery as it picked up, and many other projects we’ll cover some day. Esther as a result was kinda left in limbo while Erin and Eustace’s stories moved forward. It seemed Esther and her new pals Daisy and Susan were lost to time...

Until 2015 when Allison agreed to do a mini-series for Boom! Studios that picked up where the original series left off, eventually getting picked up as an ongoing that lasted all the way to last month, with 2 winter specials, a one shot trip to Australia, and a final one shot finishing the series Wednesday.  As for said series I do own it, Boom has since republished it, and we will get to it.. but I felt given this is where I and probably most other fans of the series came in, it was the best place to start and issue #1 of the boom series recaps what’s come so far and re-introduces the cast well. Kinda like the second episode of a series after the pilot: some things have changed, including the series now having Artist Lisa Tremain on board to draw instead of Allison himself, some new characters have been added, but it’s still the same show and still a good point to start. And with ALLL that exposition out of the way, including exposition to set up characters for ISSUES down the line, and a little more to go, let’s dig in.  As seen at the top, the first cover is great. The yellow and red works well, as does the simple image of a morose Esther fiddling with her phone, boxing gloves on the back for reasons we’ll see shortly. A good genre setter and an excellent cover, something the series always delivers with. 

We open on our three Heroines, on their third week of college,  with a helpful narration that does a good job summing each up, so I don’t have to and you know how I like to jabber, the giant barrage of paragraphs before should be proof: Naive cheerful Daisy, dramatic and funloving esther, and serious and sardonic Susan. There will be, and already is, more to each as they grow and we learn more, and Esther of course has a few years of comics behind her to start, Giant Days even being named after a Esther and Eustace centric arc from Scary Go Round, but not something I could fit into the exposition wall. 

As you can see the ladies are having a nice talk about if they would be friends without living in the same hall, with Susan bursting Daisy and Esther’s bubble.. but it fits her personality. Susan is a realist, she sees the world how it is. Daisy is an optimist seeing the world how it SHOULD be and Esther navigates the space between, as she can be realistic once in a while but mostly tries to avoid reality like the plauge in this series. She had a tad of this in Scary Go Round but it’s really dialed up here, but there’s a good reason for why i’ll get to after Susan helpfully outlines the indie issues for me and new readers.

See this is why I went here first: while I will cover these issues, themselves covering their first three weeks of college, eventually, it covers most of what happened pretty well and makes it easy to fill in the blanks that it glossed over. The first issue did indeed turn into a scott pilgrim style brawl where Esther boxed her way to victory, Susan set someone on fire and Daisy tried to use meditation to fight but Paul Mcartney’s ghost said no. It’s not a bad issue but tone wise the series would be something much more diffrent. 

Issue 2 is where I need to go into more detail: Esther cheated on Eustace with the douchebag you rightfully see in a heap above, who then spread their night around and got his commupance. Esther told Eustace.. who dumped her over it and drove her into a depressive state, a weird heavy metal society, and booze, which she can drink because you can drink at 18 in England. She was saved from it by her new galpals.. and Erin, who was supposed to likely be a recurring character, possibly on the same level as two we’ll get to soon, and definitely figured into a major plot with Daisy, as Allison admitted. But with the gap between issues and having other plans for Erin, he decided to write her out.  Susan pegs Esther as a drama queen soon after, a “sodding drama magnet”, attracting attention like I attract X-Men comics and Kirk Cameron attracts terrible Christian movies designed to stroke his own ego. She proves this by handing her a piece of paper and well....

Well look on the bright side Esther, you have a good career as the bride of dr.doom with those skills. I mean he’s single, has a spooky castle, does magic.. he’s basically a goth’s wet dream he just needs to black up his uniform a bit. Or put on that awful leather made out of a human armor he had. Yes that was a thing. Comics are weird. 

The rest of the group chase after an angry Esther who after this immortal line, challenges Susan to a bet: if Susan wins she gets a nice massage, if Esther wins she gets to dress Susan up however she likes to torment her.

 And somehow DAISY is the one who has a coming out story in a few issues. Jokes aside I do like the friendship here: They’ll razz each other, give Daisy time, and poke at their flaws gently, or be brutally honest, but their truly and honestly friends and it shows. It feels real and it’s one of the series big draws.  The girls run into Esther’s friend Ed. Ed has a huge crush on Esther, even when she had a boyfriend something to the series credit he was called out on, but not the nerves or charisma to actually try and ask her out. Shockingly, I liked, and still liked, Ed a lot as he reminded me of well.. myself in college. Pining after girls or starring without actually going anywhere and the series will deconstruct this as we go. He’s also basically the fourth main character, getting issues focusing entirely on him and arcs of his own, but the girls are still the main focus. Susan freezes however upon seeing his friend...

This is our fifth lead, McGraw. Basically a more emotive and british Ron Swanson who as you can see clearly has a history with Susan and Susan splits before they can say more. While McGraw falls back on the old men streotype of “We don’t have to talk about it”, though unlike say Tim Taylor it’s less “I genuinely believe this nonsense, as well as that men are  incapable of commuincating unless my neighbor tells me otherwise and all loves sports. I unsuprsingly got divorced once the kids all left the house, aug aug aug”  and more “I don’t want to talk about this nor do I want to force my new friend to talk about a touchy subject yet. “ Susan is likewise closed off but in her own special Susan way and Esther reveling in Susan having drama after accusing her of being a drama queen. This ends about as well as you’d expect. 

Daisy has had best friends for all of three weeks and she’s already figured out lies are a key part of friendship. Good for her. Esther heads off for the Gym, and while Daisy declines due to, and i’m not making this up this is a genuinely good joke of john’s, worrying she’ll become a killing machine. Esther however needs it to work out her feelings over Eustace because punching shit is better than wallowing in her misery over loosing the love of her, at this point, short life. 

That panel on the right... that’s a blessed image. And really this image showcases the true heart of the series: as I said the girls are there for each other but it dosen’t feels schmaltzy or forced, it feels real and has plenty of great lines to add to that. Daisy goes back to try talking to Susan, but Susan takes a bit and when she finally works up the energy to visit daisy. 

I I understand that feeling. It’s like the realization Mr. Rogers had sex at least once. You don’t WANT to know something that pure and innocent is capable of fucking, but you do now and it will haunt you like that ghost that won’t stop stealing my soap. BUY YOUR OWN SOAP JEREMY I’M BROKE SON. Of course this wasn’t actually sex stuff as Susan soon relays to Esther as she fears she upset the poor humanoid afro lesbian. 

Side note I love the phrase having a fiddle and will save it for future use. But yeah with Susan somehow spooked, she suggests Esther change the subject as soon as they get in there. 

Susan.. ya brought this on yourself. Naturally she tries to avoid getting into the subject until eventually this happens. 

I’ll be saving this for future reference of course. And Susan gives us a LITTLE to go on... about two panels worth of ominus foreshadowing to the eventual reveal without any actual info about what in the bloody hell actually happened. 

Of course Susan calls for dinner time and says they’ll have to earn the rest later. Naturaly McGraw is also going in for dinner and Susan once again tries to deflect as her friends bascially call him a snack. I mean he is ron swanson crossbred with berkely brethead. who wouldn’t?

I love the line above.. especially since really the comic DOES pass. While there is boy drama, and girl drama for Daisy, this issue has plenty else going on besides wanting to bang someone, though given Esther won’t shut up about McGraw while talking to the human equilveant of an active volcano.. 

She’s lucky she didn’t instead bash her face in with a tray, but she’s a friend after all. Susan saves the savage beatings for her enemies and McGraw is wise enough to not let his tray anywhere near her and to duck if she tried her own. Natrually given her Drama Magnet powers Esther somehow finds the one cowboy in all of England. 

His chivlary, genuine or dudebro wise unfortunately causes a chain reaction. 

Naturally Susan was hoping for something like this, loudly gloating at activating the drama field and at having won the bet and tries to use the high that being right gives a person to run McGraw out of town. 

Unfortunatley for her, while her speech is awesome i’ll admit, it’s also entirely unfair: She expects him to change schools, and given his focus on architecture and general no nonsense nature he choose this one for a reason. Just because you two have a history dosen’t mean you can just make him leave and McGraw, as seen above, isn’t taking it. And he responds just as badassly. 

Gross? A little. But worth it to basically win the argument without even invoking the fact you have the moral highground. Yeah he had to know she was going here too, but again he came her for a reason and has no reason to leave. She can be an adult about this and work past it or just avoid him, also like an adult. Esther, not wanting to deal with Susan’s smug or her rage both of which are probably ping ponging back and forth, sits with Ed and talks about her dramatic nature. She really dosen’t intend to call it on herself, but does like not knowing what will happen every day. 

This really sums up Esther’s character to start: She enjoys life, loves the hell out of it, but often fails to see the consequences of her actions. The drama field sometimes is just shit happening to her because she happens to be young, attractive and entergetic, but other times it happens, like with the blow up of her relationship, because she does something impulsive and it blows up in her face. Speaking of character insight we get a character defening inner monologue from ed. 

And that’s Ed’s pain:  To Esther she sees it genuinely as him just being her friend. And I do think even with his massive crush he genuinely cares about her more than just wanting to be with her, but worried she’ll reject him, as I can again relate. And even worse is the worry of not wanting to make their friendship weird. And i’ve had crushes on female friends that have gone both ways: it’s made things toow eird to continue, but i’ve also had plenty where I was gently turned down and we’re still on good terms to this day. One of my best friends was a result of this. What makes it work, when we’ve seen this plot a thousand times before, is that both the narrative and Ed don’t think he’s ENTITLED to Esther. Yes the above has him asking god to make her love him.. but it’s not in a forceful sense.. it comes off more as a desperate want for them to end up together or for him to be able to move on. It’s what seperates ed from a “nice guy”: Sure he’s into Esther, but he dosen’t think he deserves her, or that because their friends he’s earned her or any such nonsensical bullshit. He’s just hopelesly infatuated with the first girl he met in college and wants to either see where it goes, or have the feelings end so he can move on with someone he does have a future with. I”ve been there. Shit sucks and Allison handles it well without falling into entitlement territory, and given just HOW many geek gets the girl storylines have been written, having it treated realistically with it being treated with him having to get over her instead of her just being oblvious is refreshing and I wish i’d had a narrative like this when I was Ed’s age to smack me in the face and tell me “No it dosen’t work that way, say something or move on man. “ With that monster of a pargraph done let’s check back with the girls. 

Again, I love the character interactions and how that’s the focus here over anything else, even my word sandwitch up there. But speaking of things, Esther just up and asks Daisy what she was watching. Turns out...

Yup, Daisy just likes ASMR, which I now know just what it is, just a static reflex people get. Susan tests it to prove Daisy is normal and it’s just good clean fun. Esther tries to put nosepicking under the same, Elbow’s susan over it and we get this to close out our main trio for the issue. 

I am glad he showed off more lady friendships, but they would’ve been a hell of a couple had Allison went that way. Could be an intresting AU, especailly if you keep Daisy gay and have their being bi or pan, dealers choice, affect things. HOw would that effect their relationshpis, how long would it last, would the McGraw thing impact stuff.. it’s some food for thought is all i[’m saying. We close however on Ed and McGraw as Ron Jr. unpacks his stuff and helps ed with his key sticking by rubbing a pencil on it because Graphite is a lubricant. Huh. Neat. And then we end on this. 

And on that note, we end issue 1. No write in contests though i’m damn sure given he’s mentioned he’d want a ROM/Giant Days crossover for the absurdity John Allison would love that. 

Final Thoughts;  An excellent start to the BOOM! series and a good second pilot. It’s clear stuff happened but the series helps you get the gist well enough to not have to buy the collection of the first three issues, and the characters are all dynamic with plenty of laughs as well as genuine moments. Susan and Esther’s banter is hilarious and both Esther and Susan are given plenty of layers: Esther’s grappling with her sorrow over her nuking her first romance and Susan being sharp witted, quick to be smug with Esther, but still gentle with Daisy and trying to careful with her given her sheltered life before College. Daisy isn’t given much layers in this issue, but is sitll shown to be incredibly sweet and realstically naive. McGraw is a welcome addition, his past with susan providing an intresting mystery for what was intended to be just 6 issues and solved by the end, while also having some intresting swagger to him enough to not make him JUST her love intrest or Ed’s best friend. Tremain’s art is also great, diffrent than what most of the series would end up being, a bit sketchier with more dot eye, but still nice and stylish. I’ll also confess the cafeteria scene is what let me know the book existed as I read it in the back of another boom title, I can’t remember which honestly, wher eit was featured as a preview and was intstantly intrigued. Overall a strong start. There’s a reason the series both caught on and lasted as long as it did and i’ll miss it terribly. I won’t be reviewing as time goes by this week, though I may post some quick thoughts on it, but I intend to review the full series, including the 3 indie issues and specials, so i’ll probably get to it at some point. An excellent series that I can’t recommend enough. 

If you liked this review, feel free to reblog it, follow me for more, or comisson one for a comic of your choice for just 5 bucks. Until then, have some giant days of your own. 

#Giant Days #john allison #slice of life #esther de groot #susan ptolemy #daisy wooton #ed gimmel #McGraw #scary go round #bad machinery

[blaurascon-kzk]

KZK Discord Digest [Week of Nov 22 - Nov 28]

SUMMARY: Work's still progressing on the LE Kirins. Some previews for the Aeterna (Time) one in this post! Kat's made a channel in the Discord specifically for posting quick WIP shots and previews while he's working. I likely won't be covering that channel in the Digests, given 1. there are a lot and 2. there are still WIP shots in Announcements, but we'll see. In the meantime, you'll have to check out the Discord to see em. Links in my SL profile. We migrated our databases to a new host the other day. The old host had been giving us fits for a long while, from downtime to failed purchases, but the recent streak of "vendors going offline and unable to come back online if we had to reboot anything" was the last straw. New host is much more robust than the old one - you'll notice this in faster purchase times, and if vendors need to reboot, they'll come back up faster. In addition, we'll be able to add item descriptions again! We weren't able to have these for quite a while due to issues with the old host. We'll get those updated soon as we have a bit of spare time. One caveat: If you happen to have any Vouchers left over from old events (e.g. the Sweetheart vouchers from Valentine's where you choose an avatar color), those will no longer work. They need to talk to the databases & don't have the right configuration now. You can manually redeem them from Kat if you need. Similarly, any vendors that we missed updating will no longer be able to properly talk to the item servers. If you happen across a vendor that seems to be failing to deliver an item, let us know so we can update it!

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Nov 22

KatLast Friday at 5:09 PM @everyone So one of the final 4 kirins to be release is Aeterna, the avatar of Time. Here's a quick concept doodle for it. It wears a mask resembling a ram's head, and the horns are notched like a gear or cog.

For the design, I wanted something that looked aged and wise, yet still had a regal air to it. its main colors will be bronze, gold, copper, and maroon.

KatLast Friday at 8:31 PM @everyone So tonight I was approached by a fellow KZK community member and friend, with a simple request to help them troubleshoot a rig. After trial and error, a solution was found and they were well on their way toward finishing a project that had been plaguing them for weeks.

And herein lies the problem. The individual, who will remain nameless, who rigged this model, seems to have taken umbrage to me assisting.

I don't understand this mentality. I don't understand why they're upset, or why they're taking it out on the person who asked me for help.

KZK wouldn't be where it was were it not for the contributions of many before me. Everything I've learned, I learned from youtube videos, forum tutorials, and industry leaders like Michael "Orb" Vicente, most famous for his 'Orb_Cracks' brush that basically every major game studio uses these days(I'm not kidding).

Im also not afraid to admit when I'm wrong, or when I don't understand something. Years ago, I didn't know how to make good LODs, until members of this very community gave me information that made it possible.

Point I'm trying to make is, and the reason I'm posting this: If you don't know something, reach out. Its not dumb to not know something. Its dumb to not ask for help, because it just makes you look close minded and ignorant. Don't punish others for your ignorance, because the files I worked with tonight were new territory for me. I had the missing piece to the puzzle and progress was made.

Art and progress can't exist in a vacuum. There's entire generations of others who came long before you did--And there'll be plenty more to follow in your footsteps and eventually surpass you. Its why I'm always so eager to help. always eager to teach, because someone else was kind enough to teach me.

This has been your latest 'Old man shouts at clouds', brought to you by Kat who needs another cup of coffee.

KatLast Friday at 8:39 PM @everyone Also, if you're new to KZK, or not familiar with this: Sometimes a topic will come up, or something will happen that sorta.. just sets me off.

I'm 'famous', at least as far as the furry community in Second life is concerned. I could use that power for evil, but I dont. Instead I use it to try and spread a message from time to time. Today's lesson just happened to be about 'learning to learn', a subject that's always been near and dear to me.

You can ignore these kinds of posts if you want, but if you do read them, Please take them either with a grain of salt, or to heart. up to you. Its just important for me to raise awareness for issues like this from time to time.

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Nov 24

KatLast Sunday at 1:57 AM @everyone Kinda dawned on me tonight that I wanted to make a channel where I could post updates and teasers to ongoing projects too minor/frequent to place into announcements(I don't like sending too many too often).

So, I've added a new channel to the General tab, called #teasers-and-wips. Reactions are enabled, but replies are disabled--you can share feedback in #general chat.  Enjoy!

KatLast Sunday at 5:25 AM @everyone My progress for today on the Aeterna Kirin. I've got the rings already modelled, just need to uv unwrap them and get them baked out once I get some sculpted detail onto them. Then its on to the floaty bits of fabric, which should go quickly, and lastly a new set of fur assets to make this old soul look wiry and wise. I'm particularly tickled with the skull so far. While definitely not true to a goat's skull, as intended, I much prefer the visage this design gives and I hope you all do too!

The skull and horns (and all other parts), will be static(with a bento alternative tail included, per the norm), so you'll be free to rip everything apart and repurpose it as your heart desires!

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Nov 25

KatLast Monday at 6:16 PM @everyone Progress on the Aeterna is probably 95% at this point. The skin/body textures in use are not final(jsut using the chocolate textures so its not solid white), and I still gotta add the belly scales and make the asset for the maroon fabric hanging from the rings all over. I'm pretty stoked with how these hair assets came out. Also fun little side effect, when you remove the mask/horns, it looks like a cool kirin/zebra witch doctor kinda, so hey, some modding potentiall there for people.

Bonus: No mask

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Nov 27

KatYesterday at 3:37 AM @everyone Hey reminder that there's a snazzy new #teasers-and-wips channel where I post progress on upcoming projects! I've been posting my recent progress on the Nova, complete with some behind the scenes  showing how I create assets that contribute to larger items. Its good fun!

KatYesterday at 4:35 AM @everyone At this moment, we're performing some server migration for our databases(We've got backups this time I promise!), so purchasing will be unavailable.

For those curious, we've had many vendors crashing and not coming back online in recent months. We originally suspected this to be a Second Life issue but it traced back to recent changes our host made, effectively crippling our servers.

We're migrating to a new host, and internal testing has already shown faster purchases, vendor boots, and the restoration of a long missing feature, item descriptions!!

We'll give the all clear once migration is done.

KatYesterday at 7:20 AM @everyone It is 7:15 in the morning, and Flame and I have powered through the night (although this is his day), to chase down a MYRIAD of issues that have been plaguing our system for the last several years. The crashing and failure to boot was definitely the nail in the coffin So this had to happen sooner or later.

BUT! We're ..technically code orange. The migration is complete, and as of the time of this writing, only the MAIN STORE KZK vendors and DIREWOLF Vendors have been updated to cache to the new server.

ANY Purchases made from ANY OTHER KZK vendor WILL NOT DELIVER at this time. I will be fixing the remaining vendors grid-wide once I've gone and copped a few hours of beauty sleep. This includes all KZK Multi-category vendors, and ALL Single prim vendors besides the Direwolves.

ALSO: If you are in possession of a voucher, they will no longer deliver items! There is no way to fix these going forward besides doing a manual delivery of the desired item(in exchange for the in-tact, unused voucher). All future vouchers going forward will use the new system.

TLDR: Only kzk main vendors work in Okarthel, as well as direwolves. Everything else is still fucked and im too tired to bother. I'll deal with those in the morning(after ive slept) (any purchases made to off-site vendors will be manually redelivered tomorrow as well, so if you wanna avoid failed purchases, just use Okarthel)

Flame SoulisYesterday at 7:35 AM Do note though that vendors and vouchers will continue to be recorded. All we have to do is re-add the purchase/item redemption to the newer system and your item will deliver.

So, in short, your purchase will be recorded if purchased outside the main store. It'll just be delayed until someone can update the newer system.

KatYesterday at 8:08 PM @everyone Took all day but I think I've managed to track down all active locations. All vendors, including the single prim stuff, has been switched over. In the event you find a vendor that fails to deliver properly, please let me or blau know.

Current vendor versions are 1.94(sergal and normal), and 1.51 for the stone pillar ones.

you are now free to move about the cabin. Now if you'll excuse me, I need more coffee and food. Stupid blood sugar @-@

#kzk-dd #kzk

[thenovelartist]

It Started as a Joke

Throwback Thursday! Yay!

It started out as a joke.

Alya had been following Ladybug and Chat Noir reverently since they day they came to save the city. Six years later, she still was their number one reporter despite the twenty-year-old having an internship at a news company. She would always drop whatever she was doing to catch the latest news on the superheroes of Paris.

She was also the number one biggest LadyNoir fan ever in existence. Which was fair considering she created the ship and captained it.

So for her birthday, Adrien thought it would be hilarious to surprise Alya with probably the biggest superhero “scoop” ever.

Hopefully, Marinette would play along with it. He wanted her reaction to be genuine, so the best way to pull it off would be to surprise her as well.

The most recent akuma—because Hawkmoth still ran rampant over the city, sneaky butterfly—was easily captured, no Lucky Charm or Cataclysm needed. So Ladybug and Chat Noir stayed for a few questions for reporters before slipping off into the dusk. And just as Chat was hoping, Alya was following.

Once they were out of view from the main commotion, Chat grabbed his lady’s hand to stop her before she could jump into the alleyway.

“Chat?”

He looked over his shoulder to see Alya filming them. Over his other shoulder was a great view of the Eiffel Tower twinkling with lights. Perfect.

He grabbed her other hand and with the most serious expression he could muster, said, “Please play along? For Alya? She’s watching over your right shoulder.”

Ladybug didn’t look at her best friend, just quirked an eyebrow at Chat. “What do you mean?”

“It’s her birthday, bugaboo. I thought a little ‘LadyNoir’ would make her happy.”

Ladybug tried to keep a straight face, but failed. “So…what are you planning?”

Chat leaned in, a slight grin on his face. “For you to say yes.”

“Well, if I knew the plan…” she began, a teasing smile on her face.

He dropped to his knee and pulled out a little black box. Ladybug looked sufficiently shocked. If Chat had to be honest, he didn’t think she was acting at that point. “Chat?”

He lifted the box to her, opening it to reveal a ring.

Yes, he did buy a ring for the fake occasion. He had to make it look realistic, after all.

Ladybug definitely wasn’t acting when her hands flung over her mouth at the sight of the ruby ring. “Chat?!”

“Ladybug,” he started, “Will you please give me your left hand?”

Dumbly, she nodded and extended that hand.

As he put the ring on his lady’s hand, kissing it for good measure, Adrien was fairly certain that he heard Alya squeal all the way up from the street. Considering the way Ladybug glanced over at her friend, she must have heard it too.

He stood and took Ladybug in his arms, making a show of embracing her tightly (which he very much was) while he chanced a look at the woman full-out dancing in the street.

“It’s a very pretty ring, Chat,” Ladybug commented.

“I’m glad you like it. You can add it to your collection.”

She chuckled. “Because it’s not big enough,” she joked.

“No. It’s not,” Chat said seriously. “So don’t expect me to stop.”

She sighed, slightly irritated. “I’ve given up on the hope of you ever stopping spoiling me.”

Now he was the chuckling one. He pulled away just enough to see her face. “Only the finest for a princess.” Then he leaned forward the inch distance and kissed her soundly. Even though the haze that always came when kissing his lady and princess, he could hear Alya screaming.

After that, they ran home, Alya no longer following them. Adrien had no doubt they would be all over the news tomorrow.

They jumped through the window of their room in the Agreste mansion. He had wanted to leave as soon as he turned eighteen, but when Marinette became his father’s apprentice, it was just more convenient to be here. And everyone who knew him knew anything that involved Marinette became number one priority. Besides, with Marinette around, a little more life came into the house, making it feel more like a home.

In a flash of complimentary colors, the superheroes disappeared, leaving a very happy, famous-in-their-own-right couple in the place of the superhero duo.

Marinette held the ruby ring in her hand. “It’s an appropriate color. I’ll give you that, Chaton. But I like mine better.” She gazed at the diamond and dual sapphire stones twinkling in her white gold wedding band.

“Good,” he said, taking his wife’s hand and laying a long, lingering kiss on it. “I’m glad.”

She pulled him close, wrapping her arms up around his neck while his arms snaked around her waist. “Alya’s face must have been priceless for all the screaming she was doing.”

He chuckled. “Hopefully she filmed herself so we can catch a glimpse of it on the Ladyblog tomorrow.”

...

The next morn—er, day since they had they actually had the ability to sleep in until lunchtime, Adrien pulled his phone out while Marinette groaned about how she didn’t want to get out of bed.

“But don’t you want to see the Ladyblog?”

Marinette paused for a moment. “Yes.”

While she scrambled up to take a place beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her hands around his arm, he pulled up Alya’s website on his phone.

The site had been transformed overnight to look more like a wedding invitation than the blog it was. Sadly, Alya didn’t film herself during the process, but hearing the very moment she gasped as well as seeing her excited face after the superheroes had disappeared was plenty rewarding.

“You know, I’m shocked Alya hasn’t called me yet.”

Adrien chuckled. “Or that Nino hasn’t texted me saying how his wife is driving him up a wall.”

“Which would have been your fault in the first place.”

“…Worth it.”

“Won’t be worth it if he demands divorce after barely a month of marriage,” Marinette teased.

Adrien just glared at her. Good-naturedly, of course.

As they continued scanning the Ladyblog, a new, just-posted article caught their attention.

Mayor speaks out about superhero proposal.

“Play the video,” Marinette said.

Adrien needed no prompting. As they watched, their eyes grew wider until the very end of the five-minute clip when he was certain his jaw had become unhinged and was now resting on the bed.

Apparently, entirety of Paris was going to throw them a wedding.

“We…we can’t let them…”

Marinette and Adrien exchanged a shocked look that said the same thing.

“Tikki, spots on!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

The duo ran out into the city, ready to beg for a meeting with the mayor of Paris. Instead, they interrupted the first—and hopefully only—Superhero Wedding Committee Meeting. They thanked the mayor for the effort but stated it wasn’t necessary. The whole room erupted at that. How dare the superheroes not get an all-expenses-paid wedding when they’ve done so much for the city. Who would even think of such a thing?

And then Ladybug tried to counter with, “But we’re already married.”

The committee froze. Chat thought for sure they were going to lay it to rest, but just as he was about to add a comment of his own, the room erupted into complete and utter pandemonium.

Apparently, the people of Paris were not happy that they were not invited to their superheroes wedding.

(They very much were, but that wasn’t something Ladybug nor Chat Noir were going to disclose.)

So after much debate, Ladybug and Chat Noir relented and let Paris throw them a second wedding. They had a few demands, though. Their suit and wedding dress would be Agreste originals, and the main wedding cake was to be made by none other than Tom and Sabine Dupain.

The committee readily agreed.

So four months later, the Notre Dame was closed off to the public as only the most esteemed guests got past the police barricade to enter (esteemed guests which may or may not have included Ladybug and Chat’s entire class [who may or may not have their suspicions] as well as a good handful of formerly akumatized victims). Some crazed fans camped out on blankets and lawn chairs in hopes they might catch a glimpse of the superhero couple. The rest of the general public just watched the televised version.

Because it was currently the only thing on TV in Paris right now.

Chat had to hand it to the committee, the wedding was about as extravagant as could be. The traditional white drapery was accented with plenty of red roses and black ribbons just to clearly state who the wedding was for.

Chat stood at the altar, dressed up in the black, twin tail—oh, he had a good laugh about that one—suit that Marinette had designed. His father, when offered the job, immediately thrust the project upon Marinette as though he wanted nothing to do with it. The designs had to be approved by him, but he was going to do none of the work. So Marinette had all the power to create whatever dress she wanted to wear. A good thing considering that one of the problems they discovered was taking their suits off was not an option. And they were not going to go out in public untransformed. It didn’t matter if they wore masks to cover their faces. They were going to be transformed. As their superhero selves. That was final. Therefore, anything Marinette designed had to work around their superhero outfits.  

Marinette had finished a week ago—which he was glad for because she was starting to really lose sleep over it—but she had insisted he not see her designs until the wedding. So when the organ started to play the wedding march (they got Jagged Stone to play for them. Actually, from what Chat understood, the man called the mayor and volunteered.)  Chat was just as anxious as the rest of the crowd to get a look at Ladybug.

Chat would have thought that watching the woman that would become his wife march down the aisle a second time, ready to meet him and exchange vows, would be easier to handle.

Nope.

His breath was completely and utterly stolen from his lungs and his heart completely ceased to function as he watched Ladybug walk down the aisle. Traditional was not a word to describe the dress she wore. On the contrary, the dress was made of black satin, looking like it had been twisted around her torso before draping delicately around her shoulders. Two small trains of spotted red fabric draped over her shoulders, reaching only her waist. Underneath that were two far longer trains of sheer white, draping to the floor and fluttering with every step she took. In that moment, Chat realized she looked like a flying ladybug.

Then she got close enough for Chat to see her eyes. The way her bluebell orbs sparkled with warmth and happiness and love…

Chat was certain that he was going to die. A very happy death but die nevertheless.

He finally snapped himself out of it just in time to reach out a hand for her. Giving him a smile that nearly took every last ounce of strength from his knees, she placed her hand in his and stood opposite of him in front of the altar.

Most of what the priest said flew right over his head, but he was able to hear the man say it was time to exchange vows. Just like the first time, he had spent the past few weeks planning them out. What he had to say to Ladybug was no less important than what he had to say to Marinette, so he knew he better make these count all the same.

“My Lady,” he began. “The first time I wrote vows to you, they seemed inadequate. I’ve spent a longer this time, yet they still seem to fall short. What do you say to your perfect other half? To your better other half? The one that makes you stronger. The one that make you better than what you really are. The one that believes in you even if no one else does. The one that accepts you and loves you even though you’re definitely not good enough for them. What can I possibly say to you that would be remotely good enough?”

Ladybug’s eyes were already growing misty. Chat swallowed as he tried to get out the words he’d been composing for weeks now. “I love you. I mean it in the deepest sense imaginable. Know you have all my heart and all of me, always and forever. You are my partner, my best friend, my only love, and my perfect other half. Me without you would hardly be anything. And I mean that in both senses. As Chat. And as me.

“As for the vows, my first vow is that I will always be at your side, whether that’s in the heat of battle or on a lazy day. Because we’re partners. Together, we’re stronger than we really are. You make me stronger. Furthermore, you give me a reason to be strong.

“My second vow is to cherish you, because you are absolutely priceless. There will never be another woman like you. Not even the next Ladybug will be like you, nor have any of the past Ladybugs ever been. You are absolutely one of a kind, and I will tell you that often. As both Ladybug, and as you.

“My third vow is to always protect you. Always. I know you hate this vow, because I know you value my life and well-being. While it touches my heart to the deepest degree, know that if I have the ability to protect you, to take a hit in your stead, I’ll take it without hesitation. Every single time. I’ll never regret it. Seeing you hurt hurts me worse than any hit I could take.

“My fourth vow is to always try to be the partner you deserve. I’ve strived to meet so many expectations of others, but then you come into my life and you just expect me to be me. And I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you want me, even though I know I get on your nerves and irritate you at times. Even though I’m not perfect and probably make more mistakes than I want to admit. You just take me as I am and that means the world to me. You took me as I was even when we weren’t dating, even when we were just friends, had just met. And it’s that reason that I want to strive to be my best for you. Because while I know you love me now, I want to give you even more of a reason to be proud. To love me. I want to try to be the man you deserve. Because you deserve the best and absolutely nothing less.

“And my final vow is to repeat these whenever you need to hear them. They are burned into my head and my heart so I will never forget them. But what I really hope is that you will never forget them either.

“I love you, Ladybug, and I can barely believe you agreed to marry me. I don’t know what this unlucky black cat did to deserve you, but I count myself the luckiest man alive to know that you chose me.”

Ladybug was crying at this point. No, hearing vows a second time wasn’t any less powerful than the first time. And knowing that Chat meant every word and did not take any of his words lightly at all further wrecked her.

The crowd wasn’t exactly dry-eyed either. The “aww”s were audible throughout the building, reverberating down the halls and outside. Cameras were flashing, capturing the earnest expression on Chat’s face and the loving one on Ladybug.

Finally, all that died down enough for Ladybug to speak. “Chat, I’ve never been half as elegant with words as you. I could spend months writing these words and they would not sound half as pretty as yours. But please know that I mean everything I say with everything I have.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I’ll say it every day because you deserve to hear it, and I’ll mean it every day, as long as we both shall live. I love everything about you. Even when I’m irritated with you or angry at you, know I never stop loving you. You’re my other half. You’re my better half. My husband. My partner.

“I vow to always be by your side. Because you are my perfect partner, Kitty. You match me in battle. You balance me out on a normal day. I could not be Ladybug without you. I shouldn’t even be this lucky, not even with my ladybug luck, to have you willing to stand at my side. Yet you are, and I can’t begin to describe just how thankful I am for that. So I want to give you back everything you’ve given me, and be your match on a day in and day out basis.

“I vow to learn how to value you better. It’s not that I don’t value you now because I value you with everything I have, but I know that there are times I’m selfish. There are times I don’t give you the credit you deserve. And as I’ve said so many times, we are equals, so that is very hypocritical of me. You don’t deserve that. Not with all you do for me. I want to value you to the fullest. You deserve to be. So I will learn how to value you better. To value you more.

“I vow to become a better partner. You are my other half just as I am yours. We are Chat Noir and Ladybug. I can’t be me without you, and you can’t be you without me. So I want to strive to be my best for you. Because you chose me. You give me your all selflessly and sometimes in disregard to yourself. You deserve that from me, too. You deserve it more often than I give it. You deserve a whole lot more than what I am. Yet you somehow chose me. Something I cherish always and should never take for granted.

“Which brings me to my last vow. I will not take you for granted. I’ve nearly lost you far too many times, and every time that happens, I get a glimpse of what my life might be like without you, and it scares me. Because I love just being by your side. Being with you. Tackling the world together. And while it becomes so easy for me to slip and think that it’s normal, that it will always be this way, there’s always a scary possibility that it won’t. So I will cherish every day I get to spend with you, hoping for a lifetime of memories we make together. But even if it’s only a short time, then I will cherish every minute of it. Because I love you, Chat Noir. I love you so much. And I am so, so thankful that you chose me.”

Another round of “aww”s, more camera flashes, and more tears. Including on Chat, which he quickly wiped away so that he only wore a very happy smile on his face.

Ladybug and Chat Noir barely heard the rest of what the priest said after that. The rings were exchanged, last vows were said, and then they were called husband and wife.

The priest didn’t even finish those famous last words before Chat scooped Ladybug up into his embrace and kissed her soundly.

Whoops and hollers and camera flashes were ignored by the happy duo in favor of a second and third kiss. When they parted, they were shooed down the aisle, where an ungodly amount of rice and flower petals rained down on them. If anything, it prompted them to get outside to the awaiting limousine faster.

The chauffeur had the door to the black limo open for the two superheroes as they ducked against the onslaught of confetti, laughing all the while. Chat guided Ladybug into the car first, blocking most of the chaos from making it in before she dragged him inside as well.

The chauffeur shut the door, and Chat wasted no time launching himself at his wife, kissing her fiercely. Gathering her wits against the surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him ever closer. One kiss turned to two. Three. Four. Chat broke the kiss for the sole reason of finding the button to flip up the privacy screen against the driver, diving back to her as soon as he did.

“You’re a liar,” he said in between kisses. “You have a very eloquent way with words.”

“I’m glad at least one of us thinks so,” she panted. “You, on the other hand, are unrivaled. I thought you had me the first time you said vows, but the second round made me fall in love with you twice over.”

Chat shoved her backwards, pressing her back against the leather seats just as he felt the car start to move forward. “And what do you think yours did to me?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

“Considering that you can’t wait until we run off from the reception to have our second wedding night? I think I have an idea.”

Chat closed the very small distance in between them, pinning his wife to the seats as he kissed her repeatedly with a fire that couldn’t be quenched while she returned every last bit of vigor with her own.

All too soon, the driver knocked against the divider, calling the bride and groom’s attention.

Ladybug pouted as she clung to him, causing Chat’s heart to double in speed. Quite a feat since it was already beating fast. “I still can’t believe they are throwing a huge reception for us.”

Because Paris was. All of Paris, actually. After the wedding, people were encouraged to gather at parks and common public spaces where there would be music and dancing and a variety of food. All in celebration of the superheroes, who were going to the actual reception underneath the Eiffel Tower.

“Well, we’d better go out there and pretend we’re having fun, don’t you think?”

She smiled at him. “You always do love putting on a show, Kitty.”

After fixing themselves—one of Ladybug’s hair ribbons had been yanked out and Chat’s collar looked a little too ruffled—Chat swung open the door, only to be greeted by cheers. He ignored them as he turned to assist his very lovely bride out of the limousine and to the heart of the commotion.

There was good food, sweet cake they got to make a show of cutting, (No matter how badly Chat wanted to shove some on Ladybug’s face, he resisted. That is, until Ladybug dolloped a bit of frosting on his nose. Then he had to return the favor.) and rock music. Jagged Stone arranged the perfect line up of songs to pass the evening away until the afternoon sky faded to dusk.

The guests were slowly leaving while the hired crew began cleaning up. Before they could leave—and hurry back home—Ladybug and Chat Noir were approached by the Mayor.

“I hope this wedding did you justice. Paris cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done for us.”

“We really do appreciate it,” Ladybug replied, “even though it was highly unnecessary.”

“Nonsense,” the mayor insisted. “We were happy to oblige. Now, I suppose there is one little matter left. Such as the honeymoon suite.”

Ladybug and Chat wore matching confused looks. “Honeymoon suite?” Chat repeated. That hadn’t been part of the plan. Ladybug and Chat Noir had been insistent upon going home after the ceremony, despite Mr. Bourgeois’ protests of giving them the best suite in the Grand Parisian Hotel.

“Of course.” Mr. Bourgeois smiled. “Where else does a young couple go after their wedding? I was determined that I could not let Paris’ finest superheroes be devoid of such a luxury, so I organized the absolute finest suite in all of Paris.”

“Mr. Bourgeois, please. We would be more than happy to just go home. No need to take up your finest room.”

“It’s not in my hotel.” With a large grin, he pointed upwards. Towards the top of the Eiffel Tower.

It took Chat a moment to realize just what Mr. Bourgeois had planned. Judging by his lady’s confused face, she was left in the dark. “Sir, how did you—?”

“I’m the mayor of Paris,” he assured. “Do you think I wouldn’t be able to secure the room at the top of the Eiffel Tower for at least one night?”

Now Ladybug was surprised. “What?” She stuttered for words, looking back at the top of the tower and the Mayor himself. “Mr. Bourgeois, we couldn’t—”

“But you can,” he interrupted, pulling out a set of keys from his jacket pocket. “And you will.”

Chat reached out to take the keys considering Ladybug just stared at them in utter shock. “Thank you.”

“Only the finest for Paris’ finest,” Mr. Bourgeois assured. “You’ll have it only for the night, unfortunately. That was all I managed to acquire.”

“Which is more than we even expected,” Ladybug assured. “Thank you, so much. For everything.”

“Of course.” With that, he bowed before the two superheroes before taking his own leave.

Chat looked down at the keys in his hand as if it were the key to the world. The Eiffel Tower Suite. Good gracious, how many strings did Mr. Bourgeois have to pull for that one?

“He wasn’t kidding, was he?” Ladybug asked, looking down at the key in Chat’s hand.

“Nope. I really don’t think he was,” Chat assured his wife with a smile. Suddenly, the smirk on his face grew as he picked his wife up bridle style. She squealed in surprise, an endearing trait she didn’t lose as Ladybug, which called the attention of the camera crew again. “So, my lady,” Chat purred, “shall I whisk you off into the sunset?”

She grinned seductively and shifted in his arms. Chat swore his heartrate doubled in an instant, pounding hard in his chest as Ladybug wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, kitty. Yes, you should.”

He whisked her away once again, ignoring the whoops and hollers that came from below. However, he stopped when he noticed the news crew zooming in on them.

He had nearly forgotten.

“Hey Hawkmoth,” he shouted towards the camera. “Thanks for not interrupting our wedding. Just thought you’d like to know we’ll be out of France for the next two weeks and taking our miraculous with us.” With a wink, he shot off again, holding Ladybug close to his chest.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He looked down at his lady, who looked somewhere along the lines of shocked and horrified.

“You didn’t think we weren’t going to have a honeymoon, did you, bugaboo?”

She sputtered but didn’t come up with any reply until they got up to the suite. “Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous?”

Chat shook his head. “Hawkmoth wants our miraculous. He doesn’t want the city. He doesn’t want revenge. That’s what the akumas want. If we’re gone, there’s no reason for him to akumatize anyone. He’ll be angry, but he won’t be a danger to the city.”

Ladybug stood, stunned. Slowly, her shocked expression morphed to a smile. “I have to say, kitty, I am very impressed with you.”

He smiled down at her. “Thank you. Hopefully two weeks in sunny Spain is okay with you.”

Ladybug dropped her transformation, revealing her beautiful face from the cover of the mask. Chat took it as his cue to drop his own transformation, leaving Marinette and Adrien standing in a pseudo-wedding attire in the nicest suite in all of Paris.

“Anywhere you go is okay with me.”

Taking a small step forward, Adrien took his wife in his arms and kissed her again. Once. Twice. Just little pecks. “I love you, you know that?”

“As much as you know I love you.” Marinette’s hands then crawled up his arms and into his hair while her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Now, I believe we were rudely interrupted in the limo earlier.”

Adrien’s grin was nothing short of cattish. “I believe we were.”

…

Gabriel Agreste sat sulking in his office with the window curtains shut to block out the night while only the little lamp at his desk was lit. Two weeks, they claimed. Two weeks, they would be taking a vacation out of the country to who-knows-where and for honestly-who-knew-how-long. Two weeks. Two. Weeks.

Irritatingly crafty little b—

“Mr. Agreste.” A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

He forced himself up to grab the files from Natalie. Hopefully they would provide enough of a distraction.

…

Somewhere inside the desk, a little butterfly that sat inside of a brooch sighed in relief. Two weeks of no evil? He’d take what he could get.

…

When morning came, the sunrise glowed through the unintentionally-left-open window of the highest suite in Paris. Shades of red and orange illuminated the couple hopelessly tangled in silk sheets. The dress and suit and the duvet cover were forgotten in heaps on the floor, highlighted in bits of yellow.

It wouldn’t be until the sun rose further up in the sky and the colors flattened out that the young man would awake. Drowsily, he opened his eyes, only for them to flutter shut again with pleasure. He was buried in his wife’s hair, and his wife was buried against his chest, their limbs wrapped around one another. It was the sweet calm of morning after a romantic night. Adrien loved mornings like these.

The young wife wouldn’t awake until after Adrien shifted, pulling the sheet up over them a bit better. She ran her hand lazily up his bare chest, relishing how every muscle tensed at her touch. She always found it amazing and strange and wonderful how she, little once-awkward-and-shy Marinette, could reduce her husband to shreds with very little effort.

But he could do the same to her, so they were on an equal playing field.

She sighed contentedly, and he could feel her breath roll across his shoulder in a way that left him buzzing. “Good morning,” he mumbled.

She whined and tightened her hold on her husband. “No. Too early.”

“That’s what mornings are.”

She pouted. “Morning shouldn’t come before noon.”

Adrien chuckled. His wife had never been a morning person.

Well, unless you counted her staying up till the ungodly hours of the morning working on her designs. Then she was definitely a morning person. “That’s just because you stay up too late.”

“And whose fault was that?”

…All right, he’d take that one.

It wouldn’t be for another hour, until after Adrien coaxed her further awake with kisses and… a little more (in his defense, she started it) that the “newly wedded” couple would leave. They left the keys to the suite in clear view on the table before they found a piece of paper to scribble out a thank-you note that they would leave in the mayor’s windowsill on the way back home.

They slipped in through the window of their room with hardly any issue. Only when they detransformed did they realize one little problem.

Mainly that their wedding attire was pretty incriminating evidence of being Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Well,” Marinette suggested after a bit of debate that took place between packing their bags for Spain, “there’s the children’s hospital auction set to take place soon.”

“The one we visited as Ladybug and Chat Noir for Christmas?”

“That one. What if we donated them?”

Adrien smiled. “I love it. But we’ll have to do it after we return.”

They had let time get away from them, and while they firmly believed they didn’t waste a moment of it, they were now going to cut it a little close.

Soon enough, the bags were packed and they were ready to leave. They reached the hallway when they ran into Mr. Agreste. He looked… less than pleased.

“Father,” Adrien cordially greeted. “Is something wrong?”

He grunted. “Some… unforeseen problems arose.”

“Is it with one of the clothing lines?” Marinette asked nervously.

Mr. Agretse’s severe look softened slightly, as it always did when regarding Marinette. It was a great relief for Adrien to know how kindly Father treated his wife.

“No, no,” he assured. “It’s not a problem you need to concern yourself with. Go enjoy your vacation. It should be remedied by the time you return.”

Marinette and Adrien watched skeptically as Mr. Agreste walked off to his office.

“How come I feel like he’ll spend most of his time cooped up in there?” Marinette asked, giving her husband’s hand a squeeze.

“Because knowing him, he probably will,” Adrien sighed.

“Not to interrupt the pity party,” a snarky little voice came from Adrien’s pocket. “But Mister Cranky can keep himself occupied while you two get going on your ridiculous second honeymoon.”

“It’s sweet,” a sugary voice chastised from Marinette’s purse. “You can’t appreciate the little things.”

“And you—”

“Plagg,” Marinette interrupted, gently as ever. “You do realize this is a two-week vacation for you too, right?”

Silence.

Suddenly, the black cat was all smiles. “Well, are we going or what?”

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[assortedfruitsnacks212]

I miss you, Tumblr! + Life update on stuff and things

Heyyyyy everyone. I figured it was high time I made a proper post talking about, well, everything that’s happened since I stopped posting so much. I don’t like that I disappeared - this site was where I discovered Reylo and made some truly awesome friends. So I want to stick around, you know? And I do hope to come back more often from now on. It’s just hard juggling so many social media platforms...

But ANYWAY. I promised an update, so here we go.

1. I’m moving across the country!

That’s right ladies and gents, I’m fleeing the New Jersey coop for my old hometown of Huntsville, AL. 

Why, you ask? Well, Huntsville is very much a city of the future. As the home of NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center (where they built the Saturn V rockets!) Huntsville has earned the well-deserved moniker "Rocket City USA." It's also undergoing a huge economic boom, which has led to a thriving arts community.

New Jersey? Eh.

I'm tired of just treading water and not making headway toward my dreams. I’ll talk about those dreams a bit more in this post. Needless to say, they’re very, very important to me.

So I'm not settling anymore. In August/September, I'm packing up shop and heading down south. It's the start of something new, and I can’t wait.

2. I started a Patreon for my passion project, and it’s going well <3

My passion project, The Oracle Fragment, has been the one thing I’ve returned to over and over again for the past 10+ years. Late last year I decided to step up my commitment by starting a Patreon. I’ve only done a soft launch so far, and I’m already at 38 Patrons :) It’s been a rewarding month!

My official launch is scheduled for Wednesday, February 27. I’ll be celebrating with a Twitch stream with fun games, sketch requests, and maybe a little giveaway ;) The stream starts at 9pm EST. Let me know if you want to come - as you know, I take Reylo requests ;)

3. I’ve returned to my roots: pencil drawing!

A friend of mine convinced me to do some traditional drawing again, and I’m so glad he did. I’d forgotten how lovely it is to put pencil to paper. Also, I know I’m far better at it than I am at digital sketching. So I’m gonna let myself indulge a bit - and maybe even find a way to marry my pencil art TO my digital art. People do it all the time, I hear ;)

People who are waiting on commissions: if you want me to sketch your ideas traditionally, shoot me a message and let’s talk about it! If I do a pencil sketch for you, I can actually mail it to you OR to the friend of your choice. Shipping is free! (unless it’s international in which case we’ll discuss it) @reylorianlovechild @immortalpen @faithren @rebelrebelreylo @jesssssah

4. I’m putting my art in local stores

My favorite stores in Woodstown, Barney Loves Books and the Woodstown Coffee Shop and Bakery, have agreed to let me display my art on their premises. I’m REALLY excited and also a little overwhelmed :) I’m gonna start small, with just a basket of prints and originals... BUT who knows where it could go from here :) 

If you’re in the Woodstown area, come take a look sometime! Woodstown is about 40 minutes away from Philadelphia. As a bonus, we could even meet - just message me and we’ll go get coffee from the bakery!

5. I’m raising money for Star Wars Celebration

I bought Saturday passes for my husband and me some time ago. Now it’s time for me to either (A) raise the money for travel and lodging, or (B) sell the tickets to someone else. :p For a while I was leaning toward just selling them, but hell, it would be SO nice to go, if only for a day! So I’m going to give it a shot. Keep an eye out for commission openings (once my current ones are finished) and other cool stuff!

6. I’m doing more portrait work

Again, this is all because my friends and family convinced me to... BUT I’ve decided to make a whole-assed attempt at making my portrait work a thing. I’m printing up brochures to display with my art, and I’ve revamped my listings on Etsy.

Portraits are my strongest point, after all. There’s something about the human face that utterly enchants me, and people tell me I have the ability to capture the subject’s heart and soul on paper. I’ve decided to believe them. :)

If you’ve been thinking about commissioning a portrait of a friend, family member, or other loved one (including fictional loves *coughKylocough*), you can go to my Etsy here, or just message me here on Tumblr.

Speaking of Etsy...

7. I’m adding lots more stuff to my Etsy store

I haven’t done much with Etsy since last summer, and it’s time I fixed that. Over the weekend, I FINALLY added a print option for Elf lord Kylo Ren (!!), and I’m about to add merch for him, too. Oh, and I just ordered fine art prints of Elven Kylo and Hades and Persephone Reylo so I can put out hand-embellished versions of them!! That’s where I paint on the prints with gold or silver so they look extra shiny and pretty. You can see a pic of my embellished Art Nouveau Padme here.

Other plans I have for my Etsy: 

- add pillow inserts to my custom pillows - add MORE fanart - add MORE originals

If you have ideas for other things I can add to my Etsy, please let me know! Especially if it’s Reylo things ;) 

8. I’m starting a regular Twitch stream with an art/storytelling focus

I’ve wanted to be a Twitch streamer for a long time, but I could never figure out what to do, exactly. Just recently, inspiration hit me like a bolt of lightning:

I want my stream to be all about storytelling.

Life gets crazy, depressing, and devoid of magic sometimes. I want to bring a little of that magic back by creating an intentional space outside of daily life for imagination and exploration. Dreaming, brainstorming, chasing plot bunnies, painting, sketching, talking deep subjects, and playing games - these will all be welcome activities in my magic circle. So if that sounds good to you, come make magic with me <3

My inaugural stream will be Saturday, February 23 at noon EST. After that, I hope to stream at least 3 times a week in the afternoons.

---

As for Reylo stuff...

Believe me, though I’ve been absent from Tumblr, I’ve never, EVER stopped thinking about Reylo. And I haven’t forgotten about any of my ongoing Reylo fics and projects!

I’ll make a separate post about that, though. I’ve talked your ear off quite enough for one post ;)

I’ve missed you all. If the urge strikes you, PLEASE come and see hi. I’d love to hear from you!

@reylocalligraphy @reylo-convert @enjoyallneednothing-blog @raven-maiden @obsessivepropulsive @ever-so-reylo @monsterleadmehome @reylolujah @pacificwanderer @dreamsdescent @faequeentitania @thewayofthetrashcompactor @deafield @dvrkrey @reylotrashpiler @recklessdarkness @cosmo-gonika @aionimica @creationsvixen @collegefangirl3791 @inmyownidiom @midnightbluefox

#assortedfruitsnacks212 #reylo #reylo fam #reylo fandom

[zrtranscripts]

Season 8, Mission 8: Seal My Fate

Deck Shoes

~

[rain pours, boat engine rumbles]

SAM YAO: [shivers] It's been a long time since it's been just me and you, hasn't it, Five? It's nice. Well, I mean, it's not nice. It's raining buckets. But now and then, I like having you to myself. [laughs] At least it's not another storm today.

So this is Shipwreck Cove. Pretty amazing, isn't it? The ships rusting away, half sticking out of the water. They must have been running aground on the rocks here for years. Look, look, there's one over there that looks like something out of Captain Hornblower. Or you know, Pugwash. 

Tom was right. If we can make our way across them, we should be able to get to the small island unobserved. Although it doesn't look like it's going to be easy. But you'll give me a hand if I need it, won't you, Five? Yeah, of course you will. You haven't let me down yet.

Yeah, okay, we're getting a bit close to the shoals]. You'd better cut the engine. Tom reckons you can hitch a ride from the small island on the automated boat that takes supplies from there to the scientists on Dearg. He's getting to the rendezvous by scuba diving because... because that's the kind of thing he does. And I think he thought that the fewer people travel together, the better. But we need to keep that radio equipment you're carrying for me dry. And then hopefully you'll find something that will help Janine.

Did you see her this morning? [sighs] I mean, she's walking again, but you can see from the way she winces that every step hurts. Paula's analyzed her blood. She might have as little as two weeks left. But we're going to make her better, which means we need to catch that boat. Which means we need to jump over to that first hulk and run across it fast as we can. Come on Five, let's go!

~

[rain pours, waves splash, metal creaks]

SAM YAO: Bloody hell. This ship's more rust than metal. Oh, we'd better get across it quick as we can before it falls apart completely. What do you think it used to be? Fishing boat, I reckon. You can still smell that kind of salty, rotten whiff. There's so much stuff like this now, isn't there? So decayed, you can't even tell what it was meant to be for.

You know that building in [?]? The big red brick one that used to be a school? All these cheerful colored swings and this one wall where so many kids had chucked a ball against it, you could see the dent! Anyway, just before it all went pear-shaped with Sage, I sent Runner Fifteen on a mission down that way. And the school's just... crumbling away. There are trees growing up through the courtyard, and the wall with the dent's fallen down. In 10, 20 years, you won't know there used to be a building there at all.

I don't know. Stupid. With Janine so ill, and after... after Ellie, I keep thinking about it. What we leave behind when we're gone. I mean, there's Sara, and that's amazing. But I want to make a difference. Everything's decaying away, and then there's Abel. And I really feel like we're building something. Or maybe just laying the foundations for other people to build it. 

Well, that's good, isn't it? Nothing lasts long without good foundations. But I don't think we'll be able to get any of it done without Janine. [laughs] She'd raise an eyebrow and look all schoolmarmish if she heard this. But I think she's the heart of us. So we have to save her. We just have to.

[metal creaks] Crap. I think I jinxed it with all that talk about decay. The hull's cracking, can you see? We need to get off here, make for the next ship along. Run!

~

[metal creaks, water splashes]

SAM YAO: Oh wow, look at that, Five! We only just made it across in time! I've never seen a ship just - just fall apart before! At least this one's less rusty. Huge, too. And it's the last one before we get to land. Yeah, I can see the shoreline up ahead. And – oh my God, are those seals? They are, look! Lots of lovely fluffy seals with big sad eyes! Well, not that we can see the eyes from this distance. We've still got quite a lot of deck to cross. I think this was a cruise ship. See? Over there, Five. What used to be the swimming pool. Full of algae and frogs now, but the deck chairs are only a little bit rotten. Can't have been wrecked that long ago.

What was a cruise ship with a swimming pool doing north of Scotland? Do you think it came here during the apocalypse? Trying to find somewhere safe from the zoms? [laughs] I remember there were all sorts of stories flying around then. How there were no zoms at all on Hawaii, or how if you played a zom a recording of its own voice, it would turn back into a person. We were desperate to believe what was happening wouldn't be forever.

Maybe that's the sort of thing that got stuck in Jones' head. He thinks that if he's the king of the rocks, then everyone will like him again and he can go back to being a happy kid. Do you think it was the Edda that did that to him? Like, he read it and something in it sent him over the edge? I mean... well, you'd have to be an expert in Old Norse to read the original. On the other hand, he is very single-minded.

Did you ever read it? It does break off at that very tantalizing place. [deepens voice] "When that the circles shall grow upon the bay of five arches - " [returns to usual voice pitch] They reckon that might be a reference to [?] Bay near Exmoor, actually. The Far Hebrideans were big traders and they might have seen it. Anyway, yeah. [deepens voice] "When that the circles shall grow upon the bay of five arches, then the day is come and the only road to stop its progress is to - !" [returns to usual voice pitch] and then it breaks off. Well, that's where someone nicked the pages from the only surviving version before anyone had thought to make a good copy of it. Cliffhanger, eh? Like Netflix for the post-apocalypse age. What do you reckon?

Oh crap. See up ahead, Five? A life boat's fallen down and blocked the deck. Uh, yeah, we'll have to try and find a way below. Um, how about this door that says crew entry only? [door creaks open] Oh wow. That's a lot of tartan. Almost enough to cover up the bloodstains. It's creepy, isn't it? Yeah, it's the places that are meant to be fun that are the worst. All the gold trim, and the pinball machines. And look, over there. A ball pit for the kids. And all totally empty.

[zombies growl] Can you tell where that growl came from, Five? Was it ahead or behind? How many zoms do you think are down here? No, doesn't matter. We have to keep moving forward. We have to get to that island before the boat leaves. Look, here's a schematic on the wall. If we go through those double doors, we'll reach the dining room – [door opens, zombies moan] Oh crap! Crap, crap! Someone must have got infected during dinner. I've never seen so many zoms in black tie! Look, there's a door on the far end that leads back out onto the deck. If we run really, really fast, we might make it before they catch us. Let's go.

~

[rain pours, zombies moan, water splashes]

SAM YAO: Well, I said dry land. More like razor-sharp seaweed-covered rocks. And uh, oh yeah. The zoms are still coming. The rocks are actually going through their feet. Oh, it seems to be giving them a better grip! You know, I was having a chat with Morag Brown, the baker, the other day. I think she's the sort of me for these islands. She knows everyone. Everyone knows her. She's always telling everyone's business. Not that I'd tell anyone's business.

Anyway, sorry. What I meant to say was Morag says Chief Macallan's been keeping a tally of zombie sightings. They're still going up even though Jones doesn't have any way to make new attractors. Maybe you and Tom missed a few components. Or he's worked out some other way to do it.

[sighs] You know, Five, I really do try to see the best in everyone, but it's hard with Jones. I mean like, either he started out killing the Laird's brother here, or he didn't. Morag reckons the brother might have just slipped and fallen, and Jones was so weird, everyone blamed it on him. But either way, he has kind of leaned into that murder persona.

I really thought we were going to be here for a few days, you know. Find Jones, cure Janine, get the Edda, eat some porridge, go home. And it's not like it's not pretty here. I'm starting to think we're going to be here for ages. But I miss my home. I don't think I've ever gone this long without seeing Maxie and Sara. It's lovely talking to them, but it's not the same.

And I didn't like what Maxie said in her last message. They think someone might have got infected by the red fungus on the beaches. Like, not from a zombie bite. Turned zom from touching the fungus with a cut on their hand. It is new and weird and I don't like it and I want to be with my family! Oh God, those zoms are fast. Still, we're nearly at the beach now. Just one more push. Come on!

~

[rain pours, zombies moan, seals honk]

SAM YAO: Oh, we made it! Actual proper dry land. Also, seals! [laughs] Um... have they always been this big? Oh yeah, of course. They're elephant seals. Zoe told me about them once. It's amazing how much one woman can talk about animals. She said they can grow up to 20 feet long and weigh 8000 pounds! The zoms are giving them a wide berth.

Bloody hell, the seals are actually heading towards the zoms. Do you think they want to make friends with them? [zombies splatter] Oh my God. They're - the seals are just tearing those zoms to shreds. That seal over there headbutted one and it burst like a ripe melon! Go seals! [laughs] I don't believe it. They've wiped out every single zom that came ashore! The beach is basically just zom sushi!

Those seals are amazing! They're so strong, they're – oh crap. They're all looking at us. Um, why didn't Zoe told me they could move that fast? Oh. We need to get away from them, Five. And from the zoms that are still on the rocks. Come on, run!

~

[rain pours, seals honk]

SAM YAO: We made it! I mean, we're still being chased by huge angry seals and slightly smaller hungry zoms, but they're all behind us. Although they don't seem to be slowing down much.

TOM DE LUCA: Over here! Lead them towards me!

SAM YAO: Oh, thank goodness! It's Tom on the rock up ahead. He'll know what to do. I don't know what you and Tom are going to find on Dearg Island. So far, most of the scientists we've met have been either power-mad or homicidal or whatever the hell Moonchild was. But they can't be as dangerous as Jones. 

It's worrying how quiet he's been recently, right? He's plotting something, and we all know it's coming. And until we figure out what it is, there's nothing we can do to stop it. [sighs] I hate that feeling. [gunshots] Oh my God, Tom's shooting the seals. Tom! Stop shooting the cuddly animals!

TOM DE LUCA: Rubber bullets, Sam!

SAM YAO: Oh. Oh, oh, right, yeah. You've scared the seals off. Oh, and now they've turned back on the zoms. They're ripping into them with their - ! Ugh. Actually, I don't think I want to watch any longer.

TOM DE LUCA: You've arrived just in time. I can see the automated boat through my binoculars heading towards shore. Sam, if you set up shop there, you'll be close enough to remain in radio contact with us through the mission. Everything else is down to us. Are you ready to head off, Five? My sister's life could depend on the success of this mission!

~

#zombies run #zrs8 #s8m8 #seal my fate #zr transcript #zrs8 spoilers