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g1rld1ary · 3 months

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bloody genius ; anthony lockwood x fem!reader

➻ rushed to get this out before I go out tonight (wish me luck lols) but am pretty fond of it !!

➻ word count: 1686

➻ synopsis: after a long night of sifting through research for an impossible case with lockwood, you do something you didn't quite mean to

➻ warnings: light mentions of series typical murder/violence, kissing, idiots in love

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You groaned, tipping back in your chair and rubbing your eyes, trying to make them see straight. You and Lockwood had been pouring over photocopied newspaper articles, floor plans and assorted research for hours and you weren’t getting any closer to stringing any of it together. With Lockwood & Co steadily improving their reputation, the company was getting more and more cases with shorter and shorter timeframes. To combat this influx of cases and the consequent research that needed completing, you’d all decided to split the load where possible. This meant that currently George and Lucy were in the library researching one case whilst you and Lockwood had shut yourselves in the kitchen to struggle through another.

You supposed you had the better deal, though, supplied with easy access to tea, the thinking cloth, and, of course, Lockwood. He was your secret favourite out of your coworkers-turned-family, though if you asked Lucy she’d say it was no secret at all. Regardless, that brought you to the current moment where the thinking cloth was filled with nonsensical lines following trains of thought, all edges punctuated with a frankly ridiculous number of question marks.

Lockwood himself looked almost as frustrated as you felt, but you could tell he was trying to hide it and save face. He caught you staring and flashed a smile, but it lacked its usual charm when his eye bags were more pronounced than usual.

“Hey,” He said softly, putting his hand over yours to stop you drawing stress doodles — the latest one a crudely drawn murder scene, “We’ll get it soon, just gotta find the connection between it all.”

“Sure, Lockwood.” You tried for a smile but it came out as more of a grimace and Lockwood could see the exhaustion etched into your features. He frowned, more concerned for your wellbeing than the case at the moment.

“Maybe you’ve done enough for tonight? Go get some sleep and we can pick back up in the morning?”

“Are you going to go to bed?” You asked, already sure of the answer, “I’m not leaving you to do this on your own, not this time.” He opened his mouth to argue but you shut him up with a glare. He held up his hands in light-hearted surrender. As an alternative Lockwood suggested a break; only a few minutes, but enough for you to make two new mugs of steaming tea and him to crack open a new packet of biscuits. “I’ll even let you break the biscuit rule,” He stage whispered, ducking out of the kitchen to check on Lucy and George and refill their own stash of snacks.

You watched him go, smiling softly. You loved evenings like this — well not like this where trains of thought didn’t quite make it to the station and you had the infuriating feeling of knowledge being held just out of reach, but nights where you were all home and together. You liked them even more when it meant you got to spend time with Lockwood and he got like this; treating you just a little bit differently to George or Lucy, offering you extra biscuits and giving you that soft smile, the one that made your heart flutter in a way it probably shouldn’t when looking at your boss. It fed your delusions of one day telling him how you feel, sure, but the lightness of his attention overpowered the inevitable heartbreak you’d face when he got a date that wasn’t you.

He returned with a confident grin, snapping you out of your stupor. You buried yourself in a new file, scanning for anything that could make sense of the mess of a case you were given. Maybe a Type Two, could be a poltergeist or not, who knows who the ghost was — the whole thing was ridiculous and you had no idea why Lockwood would even take it, but he said he felt sorry for the poor old man who came to the doorstep of 35 Portland Row. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for what felt like hours, knee-deep in paper.

Your eyes were glazing in and out of focus until you caught a snippet of something that had you gasping and tumbling out of your chair, standing frenetically in front of Lockwood looking ready to perform.

“What if I told you,” You said grinning, “That your dear old man had a sealed criminal record until a few years ago? For being a suspect in a murder case no less!” Lockwood was solely focused on you now, dark eyes searching your face for more information. You were no less enthusiastic, eyes scanning the police report quickly for the relevant information. “He was a suspect in the murder of a Charlotte Black back in the 50s. Her sister alleged that the two were involved but the police found no evidence of his involvement, nor of their relationship at all, with the exception of two letters the sister sent during the time of the investigation. Officers on the case said his apartment was ‘severely lacking a female touch’ — ouch — and said to them he was definitely not in a relationship. The record was sealed because the allegations had a dire impact on his accounting firm!” You were buzzing despite the grim subject matter, as you’d finally found the link that could tie the case together.

Lockwood was similarly ecstatic. “Obviously the relationship had to be a secret for whatever reason which was why there’s no marriage certificate or record of letters between them. The letter I was looking at before must’ve been from this sister, it detailed her desire for independence and her interest in his business. She found out about his shady numbers—” He jumped up to grab a letter of complaint over botched figures from a client, “He got mad and killed her! Y/n you’re a bloody genius!” You flushed at the compliment.

“And she’s here now because he’s coming out of retirement, he bragged about it when you were hearing his case! God, it would just be great if we had, like, one more piece of evidence, just to confirm they knew each other,” You sighed, clenching your fingers at the single hole in the puzzle.

The door opened suddenly and George appeared, holding a small folded piece of paper.

“I think this might be from your case, not ours — odd looking couple,” George said, popping the photo on the edge of the dining table, giving a quizzical look at the two of you standing in the middle of the kitchen before heading back to the library. You and Lockwood exchanged a look, almost too scared to take a peek, it was too perfect. You grabbed the photo of Charlotte Black her sister had attached to the letter, plus the one of the man that you’d found in a local newspaper in the archives and laid them both out on the table for comparison.

Lockwood sucked in a nervous breath before slowly peeling open the photo. You couldn’t contain your joy, it was them! The whole night was suddenly worth it, the two of you jumping around the kitchen like little kids on Christmas. One second you were doing a stupid victory dance and the next your lips had pressed themselves to Lockwood’s. The moment you’d become cognisant of what had happened you stepped back, feeling your heart plummet to your toes. This was not how you’d imagined that would happen. Plus, Lockwood’s unusually stoic face was igniting your anxiety, cold spreading through every branch of your veins.

“Oh my God,” You breathed, willing your legs to work, “I am so sorry, Anthony.” Your body caught up to your brain and you headed to the door until you were pulled back, a hand on your waist twisting you to face him again. And then his lips were on yours with purpose this time, the hand not on your waist finding its way to cup your jaw. When your brain was done short circuiting you matched his fervour tenfold, bringing your hands up to rest on his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt to bring him impossibly closer.

You only pulled away when you were at genuine risk of passing out, unable to conjure a single word. Lockwood gazed at you with glossy, blown out pupils. That, mixed with the pink blush on his cheeks and swollen lips created your favourite ever version of Anthony Lockwood — an image you hoped would be privately yours from now on.

“So, is this where I ask to take you on a proper date, love?” He asked, his smile melting your heart into a puddle in his hand. You couldn’t let him have all the fun, though, and willed yourself to produce a teasing grin.

“Seems appropriate, doesn’t it?” Your eyes strayed to the clock on the wall that showed an inappropriately early hour of the morning, “I think we both ought to get some sleep, tomorrow’ll be a big job. Goodnight, Anthony.” You punctuated it with a soft kiss to his cheek before slipping out of the room to silently scream as you bound up the stairs, victory dance making a reappearance behind your safely closed door.

Anthony was left standing in the kitchen like a fool, hand sitting softly where you’d kissed him. A lovesick smile passed his face, thoughts of the impending case long gone from his brain, and in their place sat pictures of you and a looping memory of you slotting your lips between his. He wasn’t sure how long he was standing there basking in your light, but Lucy walked past to drop her mug in the sink, shooting Lockwood a knowing look before heading up to the attic. Lockwood found himself giggling uncharacteristically, giddy with the glee of finally telling you how he’d felt since you first walked through the door of 35 Portland Row.

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inkdrinkerworld · 8 months

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a change in place

cw: fluff, strangers to lovers, canon level violence, pre-atsv events, blood, needles, mention of food

wc: 3.1k

pairing: miguel o'hara x civilian!reader

It had started as a regular day, regular enough actually. It was raining hard, and your boots were getting wet and then there was a flash of purple, yellow and red and three people fell from the sky.

You were on your way to work, needing to get to work on time this once. The rain has been keeping you back all week- you’re not sure how your boss would take it if you’re late for the fourth time.

“Make sure you clear the area of civilians!” you hear and quicken your pace. Whatever is going on, you want no part of it.

You’re speed walking, trying to avoid puddles of water in the cracks on the pavement when a metal appendage is flung in your path.

“Hey!” you yell, turning to the direction of the body to see the three spider-people tying whoever it is they’ve been fighting with their webs.

One of them turns to you, black spider eyes blinking at you. There’s a little chill that runs down your arms as he leans his body in your direction, like he wants to hear what it is you have to say.

“Watch where you’re throwing those limbs around!” you don’t linger for something else to fall in your path, stepping over the limb as you carry on your way.

There’s commotion behind you, but you’re trying not to look. You don’t want another thing flung at you.

As it turns out, not looking wasn’t the best decision because you hear a shout and before you know it your umbrella is falling to the ground and your feet are hovering over it as you’re pulled off to an alleyway.

“Let go of me!” you twist and come face to face with the spider-person you’d reprimanded. “What’s your deal?”

“Do you go around grabbing every girl by the waist to save them from imminent danger?”

You can’t see the man’s expression behind his mask, but you assume he isn’t smiling by the tone in his voice,

“Do you go around telling off Spider-people?” you offer a real smile this time.

“When they’re not careful, course I do! That arm could’ve taken my head off.”

They don’t answer; only jut their chin to the villain they’d been webbing bursting through the constraints and is charging down the street, trampling the cars that had been alongside you.

“Oh,” you gasp, the spider-person putting you down.

“You could’ve been crushed.” they say and you flash an embarrassed smile as the person stands on the ground.

Before the man can say any more, there’s a little holographic woman that pops up on his shoulder that makes you gasp.

“Are you a fairy?” you ask, reaching a hand to the woman in yellow who flits around the man’s shoulders and head.

“Oh no sweetheart. I’m this one’s” her thumb points to the man standing beside you. “AI companion, though I guess AI is a bit wrong, because I do everything for him. He’s a little temperamental.”

You giggle at her teasing. He grumbles Spanish under his breath.

“Help him improve his vision, I almost lost my head.” The man wants to argue, but you’re bending down for your umbrella and shaking it. You turn to him, “This was really nice and all but I gotta get to work.”

He nods, watching you walk off. The woman returns, this time taunting him. “For someone so against love, you sure feel attraction pretty quickly.”

“Lyla, scan for any more anomalies.”

The next time you see the Spider-people, you’re on your way back from school. It’s late, too late for crime in your city- most everyone is asleep at this time. Except you, and your ten assignments that were due about an hour ago.

You’ve treated yourself to an Earl Grey tea and three slices of pistachio cake.

However, the Spider-people are trying to ruin it. You’re not sure since when your city had gotten so many super-villains that they needed to defeat but here they are again.

“Watch out!” you hear, the man in the red and navy spider suit from the last time comes swooping down, webbing himself to the bakery you’d just left and pushing you back inside. Even the owner is shocked.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you say to him, tucking the hair in your face backwards.

“We do.” he seems a lot more tense than the last time you’d run into each other.

“Is this one worse than the ‘Giant Metal Octopus’ from last time?” you’re quoting your local newspaper as you speak.

He doesn’t say anything to your question, just taps at his wrist before a series of little robots pop out. They look like the prongs of a ‘y’ on a tiny ball.

“These should keep you safe, don’t leave the panadería till I come back,” there’s no time to even say good luck before he’s gone.

You turn to the old man as the little robots attach themselves to the door of the bakery, “He was strange, no?”

It takes hours before they’re done, and after the day you’ve had, you’re barely able to keep your eyes open.

The large Spider-man comes in, his robots hopping back to his wrists and disappearing in his watch. He addresses the old man first, whispering apologies about keeping him awake so long, to which the man responds with a flick of his wrist. “We all need a protector, right kid?”

Then he turns to you, “Oye,” you blink owlishly at him as you stand, shoving your pastries into your bag. “How far do you live?”

You wave off his concern, “Two miles from here, s’not far.”

He follows after you as you leave the bakery. “If you’re going to walk me back, could I know your name? Just in case you turn psycho-murderer on me ?”

The man scoffs. You can tell he’s deliberating if he should give you his name and before you can tell ‘nevermind’ he mutters, “Miguel.”

You introduce yourself, “Why did you become Spider-man?” you ask, looking back at the man who’s still in his mask.

“Wasn’t much of a choice.”

‘Okaay,’ you think, ‘not big on conversation.’

There’s silence for about twenty paces before you ask, “Why didn’t you go back to wherever you come from, like the other spider-people? Do you have a crush on me?”

Again he scoffs, and the little woman from last time appears on his shoulder, “Miguel, there’s no more anomaly activity here.”

“Anomalies? Like things that aren’t supposed to be here?” you ask and Miguel bats at Lyla who looks shocked when she sees you. “Are you supposed to be here?”

He grumbles and you imagine his lips in a straight line that looks almost comical for someone as big as him. “Yes, I’m supposed to be here.”

You pout, dramatised and exaggerated, “Here I thought you just kept coming back for me.”

The little woman in yellow pipes up, “Well, he-”

Miguel cuts her off, “Lyla, go away.” She does; much to your dismay.

You stop before your apartment door and Miguel lets out a small chuckle at the door. It’s painted a blue that resembles his suit, and there’s a fairy on the handle. “Not all of us can get to your level of brooding mystery, Miguel.” you say with a bashful smile as you fiddle with the key and the lock.

“Not judging, it just makes sense.” you hum, reaching into your bag.

“Do you have nut allergies?” you ask, reaching into the bag as your eyes remain trained to his face to get his answer.

He shakes his head, ‘no,’ and you brandish one of the slices of cake.

“Take it,” you say when his hand doesn’t move. “As a token of gratitude.” you say with a performative lovelorn tone.

Miguel lets another chuckle escape before taking it, “Thanks, coqueta,” his hand makes the slice of cake look foolishly small and that makes your eyes widen a little. You’re not sure if he can tell, but he teases, “Make sure you lock up.”

You don’t see it but Miguel fights the urge to let one of his nanobots stay on your doorstep camera.

For no reason really, just to make sure you’re safe.

The next few weeks you delve deep into trying to track him down, trying to get even a crumb of who he is. You come up with nothing and then decide to take a different approach.

Someone who can make such advanced tech has got to get the information and the funding from somewhere.

Again, you find nothing.

“Who is this man?” you mutter to yourself, chopsticks holding a potsticker near your mouth.

You take a bite just as there’s a knock on your window. Your heart is in your throat and you grab your phone and a knife you have laid on your coffee table.

The knock sounds again, a little more impatient as you draw closer. As you look up, you spot a familiar red and blue suit and let out a big breath.

Opening your window, Miguel’s eyes widen at the sight of the knife, “Most women don’t take well to strangers knocking on their window,” you say amused at the way he’s holding himself on your window sill.

“I’m sorry,” then as a second thought he murmurs, “You were asleep.” clearly catching your tired eyes.

“Not exactly,” you lean towards him and whisper, “Are there anomalies here? Is that why you’re here?”

Miguel almost cracks a smile at your stage whisper.

“No, I’m here to give you something.” he pulls a box from his pocket. You’re surprised that his suit can have pockets, it seems stuck to him.

“What for?” you look up at him, eyebrows drawn low with your teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

“Repayment,” Miguel explains, “for the cake.”

You can’t argue when he opens the box and shows you a little pair of fairy wing earrings. “I highly doubt this was the same price of a two dollar slice of cake.”

They’re delicate things as you peer at them in the box. The pair are almost holographic in colour, swirls and delicate lines indenting the wings- like those from the fairy illustrations you’ve seen almost about a thousand times. You’re enamoured by them; by the effort it more than likely took to get a pair like this.

“No, they were a little over four dollars. Lyla spotted them for me.”

Your face flushes, then you gather yourself, “So you’ve been thinking about me then?” Miguel indulges your flirting with a chuckle.

He’s nervous though, or annoyed, you’re not sure you’re reading him right- but to aid your assessment, his hands are shoved into his pockets and his head hangs low beneath the mask. “They’re beautiful.” you say, taking them from his hand and inspecting them close up.

“There’s a little amethyst stone on the end of it.” he says and you smile wide.

“You went through all that trouble,” you say and Miguel frowns. “Do you want to come inside or are you just making your Spider-rounds?”

“Spider-rounds?” He’s confused and intrigued by you at the same time.

“Yeah you know, your little patrol of the city to make sure everyone’s sleeping soundly and safe from the anomalies.”

Miguel shakes his head, “I think you’re letting your imagination run away from you.”

Before the conversation can go further, Lyla pops up, eye mask pulled up as she says, “Some Vulture thing just came through a tear in the arachno-humanoid poly multiverse,” as a secondary thought she turns to you, “Hey honey, might want to get inside.”

It’s a blur, the moment between the Vulture attacking Miguel and him getting his mask on and pushing you into your apartment.

You hear a lot of crashing, shattering and grunts. You’d never been close during the other battles, but now it’s quite literally on your doorstep and you feel the pin pricks of panic settle in your chest and fingers.

If you’d had a little more blood pumping to your brain you might have stayed inside your apartment, hiding behind the door and the little fairy earrings. But your door is opened and you’re rushing outside to catch a glimpse of Miguel on the Vulture’s back claws digging into its back as he tries to get it to yield.

He spots you, eyes widening behind the mask as he catches you walking towards him and the Vulture.

“Get back in the house!” Miguel yells, the distraction enough to have the Vulture throwing him off his back and making his way to you as you hold your hands to your mouth as you watch Miguel’s body hit the ground hard.

“Hello dear, why was the Spider-man visiting you?” The Vulture is on his way to you when you grab a rock and launch it towards his head. It hits him square in the forehead, but it doesn’t slow him.

His wings are enveloping you in seconds, your screams ringing out as you’re off the ground.

“Pretty enough, maybe we could get a reaction from the Spider-man.”

It’s not like when Miguel had saved you those last two times- this time your heart is beating in your throat and your fingers are trying to grip some part of the Vulture that will cause him pain.

He gets to you first though, talons biting into your obliques and your bicep. There’s a burning sensation and you’re not sure if it’s poison or if it’s just the pain- but it stings like all hell.

You fight and twist, trying to get a good grip on him. You pull on the feathers just under his neck and you pull. As his wings open, and you’re free-falling you get why people would want to skydive. There’s an adrenaline rush that makes you feel like you could actually fly. It makes you sympathise with Icarus; the boy had a taste of a freedom that’s usually not afforded to humans and it’s freeing in a way that makes you accept the splat that’s going to be you hitting the pavement.

Miguel doesn’t let it happen.

His nanobots form a blanket on the ground, holding you as he rushes off to capture the Vulture.

“Lyla, call Margo and tell her open the multiverse anomaly receiver.”

You don’t hear much of what her response is because your hand is covered in blood as you press it to your side.

“Coqueta, pensé que dije que me quedara adentro?” I thought I said to stay inside? Miguel’s hand moves to his watch, giving new instructions to his nanobots that mould to your open wounds. “You have a hard time listening, don’t you?”

You look up at him, breathing harshly, “Sometimes pretty people distract me. I thought you said, ‘For sure come outside, I need help,’ it’s easy to mix up the words.”

“You don’t even know what I look like,” He points out and watches you roll your eyes as best as you can in your current position, “Hold on to me.” He thinks better of the simple instruction and lifts his mask up to look at you, “I mean exactly what I said. Hold on to me.”

Swinging with an open wound wasn’t as nice as the other times. This time you could tell Miguel was very conscious of where his hands were and how much pressure he was applying to your body.

You're wherever Miguel stays, and it looks very him. The room he takes you to is full of dark reds and blues, matching his suit completely. “Did you want to camouflage in your own office?” you’re a little breathless as you speak, body tired and growing even more tired as you lose more and more blood.

Miguel doesn’t say anything, he just clears a table and lays you on it. “Don’t scream or anything. The other Spider-people are asleep.”

“There’s more of you?”

He gives one deft nod and then digs around his desk till he pulls out a first aid kit.

Your eyes are fluttering shut and Miguel notices your breathing getting worse.

“Don’t close your eyes.” he instructs, tapping your cheek lighting to get you to open your eyes again.

“I’m tired,” you groan, jolting away from his hand on your hip. You melt into it when you open your eyes and find Miguel staring intently at you. “You could’ve left me at the hospital.”

“And explain your wounds how?” he holds an antiseptic cloth in his hand. “This might sting.” you nod, biting your lip as the cold cloth presses against your side.

“Fuck,” you murmur, clenching your fists as he finishes cleaning the blood. Miguel tries to distract you but talking to strangers isn’t really his strong suit.

“Is this your first time getting stitches?” he asks and you hum- a broken little sound as the needle pierces your skin. Miguel feels awful at the sound, “I’m sorry, it’s going to pinch the whole way through.”

You nod, trying not to focus on the way the needle pinches on your side with every stitch. “Do you have to stitch yourself a lot? Is that why you’re good at this?”

Miguel doesn’t say anything to your question, just ponders the way you put on a brave face as he closes the stitch.

The second time the needle pierces your skin you feel your head spin, “Think I’m gonna pass out,” you say and Miguel frowns.

You hadn’t looked that bad to Miguel, but he feels his mistake fester and feels the way it can all go wrong so quickly.

“Lyla, get her vitals up on the screen,” he instructs, hoping the nerves aren’t reflected in his voice, watching as your blood pressure drops. “Fuck,”

You go to say something but Miguel stops you, “You’ll have to stay here tonight. There’s no way you’re going back to your apartment.”

Your eyes feel heavy as you look at him, “Okay,” you twist to lay flat again but the movement seems to have taken the last bit of energy from you. “I’m sorry.” Your bones liquify and your breathing is even and Miguel swears lowly.

His chest feels heavy and achy.

“Looks like you’re getting bedside manner training,” Lyla coos as she finishes displaying all your vitals.

“I just don’t want her to die here, Lyla. When she’s a bit more stable I’ll take her to my room.” Miguel uses a gentle hand to brush your hair from your face, and he takes a moment to let his affection guide him as his thumb strokes the slope of your nose then the curve of your lip.

“You won’t die, no one else is dying,” the words are whispered as he finishes sewing you up, taking his time in cleaning the wound before sitting back in his seat, just watching your vitals till they’re good enough for him to move you to his room.

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i-love-def-leppard · 7 months

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Welcome Home (Def Leppard x Reader)

A/N: Hi everyone!! This is my first time ever writing something, let alone a fan-fiction so I’m a little nervous posting this. I am open to constructive criticism to improve my writing, which I promise will get better as time goes on. That being said, I hope you all enjoy my first story ever [EEEEKKKK]!!

🫶🏻 i-love-def-leppard

Dublin 1981 - Me and My Wine house

I walked up the rain stained steps of my home, thinking about how glad I was to finally be here after a long day of work.

Managing the local record store is something I am very grateful for. However, just like any other type of work environment, a few rude customers can quite literally turn my day to shit.

Quickly pushing my negative thoughts away, I step into the main entrance of my happy place as my nose becomes overwhelmed by the smell of someone cooking.

“Boooyyysss!! I’m homeee!!”

Immediately as those words leave my mouth, I become trampled by the one and only, Joe Elliott, running his way out the kitchen with pasta sauce stains on his shirt.

“Y/N, love! GOSH! The lord knows how much I’ve missed you and your precious face all day!”

He says as he releases his hands from my face while going in for a hug, never forgetting to leave a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

Suddenly raising his eyebrows with a smirk plastered on his adorable face, he says,

“Are you wearing what I think you’re wearin?!”

Quickly remembering that I’m wearing my cropped, v-neck, red Leppard tank top (paired with dark blue flare jeans and one of the boys leather jackets), I blush at his wandering eyes and proud facial expression.

“Well, duh Joe, of course!”

I say playfully shoving his chest.

“I’m very proud of you boys and how far you’ve all come with the band. Of course I’m gonna show you lot off any chance I get.”

“You are too good to us, love.” a new voice says from around the corner.

“Sav!!”

You exclaim, making your way around Joe’s figure to enter the curly haired bassist’s open arms.

Pulling away slowly from the embrace, Sav says,

“Nice outfit, Y/N/N.”

He smirks as his eyes trail down your form.

Leaving you blushing as always, he gives you no time to respond as he says,

“Anyone give you problems at the store today? Cause if they did, I swear on all things holy, I’ll-”

Sav’s words were suddenly cut off by two pairs of loud footsteps making their way down the stairs.

“I CALL DIBS ON HUGGING HER FIRST” yells Phil to his terror twin.

“Not if I get to her first, SLOW POKE!” Steve replies.

“I’m not slow Steve! I can beat you all day in a swimming race!” a furious Phil throws back.

“Yeah, alright merman. We all know you have some weird obsession with the water. Now knock it off in front of the lady.”

Steve says as he swiftly walks away from Phil pouting at the bottom of the stairs.

Laughing, you approach the taller blonde guitarist.

“Hi Steve. I’ve missed you.”

You say as you are engulfed in yet another Leppard hug.

His smell of cigarettes and signature cologne always gave you a comfort like no other.

“Apologies for Mr. Grumpy-pants, love” pointing at Phil.

“Now, I’d keep you in a hug all day if I could, but I’d upset blondie over there if I didn’t share you at least a little.”

Steve adds as he reluctantly removes his hands from around your waist.

“C’mere Phil” you look to him as you initiate a hug, giving him a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Instantly forgetting his small battle with Steve, a now relieved Phil whispers in your ear.

“Thank god your home. I’ve had to deal with them all day.”

Giggling at his words you see a sudden idea appear on his face.

“Y/N. Why don’t you take a break at that record store and let us take care of you. Come with us on our next tour, for the whole thing!”

“Then this way, we could see you all the time!”

“Phil, I’m only gone a few hours a day during the week haha” you reply.

“Just think about it, okay.” Phil slightly begs.

“Alright I will. And Phil, you’re sweet. You know I’d love that more than anything, but I’ve gotta contribute somehow” you reply.

“Aye! I know a way she can contrib-” Joe says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Oh shut it Joe” says Rick as he finally makes an appearance.

“I mean I wouldn’t be opposed to-” joins in Sav.

Rick is quick to slap Sav on the arm, while the rest of the group, including you, giggle at their dirty remarks.

Rick’s always been very protective of you, which you loved.

It’s no secret that the boys were all attracted to you in one way or another, and you to them.

Their constant flirtatious behavior was nothing new to you and you secretly loved it. They all knew that.

Pulling Rick in for the final hug, you can’t help but realize how grateful you are for your boys.

Snapping you out of your appreciative daydream, you feel Joe grab your hand.

You are suddenly being pulled out of Rick’s arms, into the direction of the kitchen.

“C’mon love. Into the kitchen we go!” Joe says.

“I’ve made dinner!” he grins.

“Ughhh” everyone in the room groans.

“We left him unsupervised for 30 minutes and he manages to sneak himself into the kitchen. Unbelievable.” a nervous Rick replies.

Shaking my head at their silliness, I can’t help but be forever grateful for getting to come home to this everyday.

My boys.

THE END!!!! Thank you for reading🩷🩷

#def leppard fan fiction #def leppard one shot #def leppard x reader #joe elliott #rick savage #phil collen #rick allen #steve clark #works by i-love-def-leppard #def leppard fanfic #joe elliott fanfiction #rick savage fanfic #steve clark fanfiction #Rick Allen fanfic #Phil collen fanfic

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razorblade180 · 10 months

Text

Growing Up

Scroll rings

Yang:Thank you for calling Domino’s. Is this pickup or delivery?

Ruby:Wow, it’s a week since Kovu left for school and you’ve already gone crazy.

Yang:I miss my little man so much! Dad never told us how much it sucked when we left for Beacon!

Ruby:Bet he’s laughing now. Welcome to club sis. You could always make another one?

Yang:*shivers* I don’t know about all that. Honestly I don’t understand how- ummm

Ruby:How I kept going after one? Heh, well… it took awhile.

Yang:…Sorry. I didn’t mean-

Ruby:I know, and I’m flattered. Also thankful. Carmine may not have been here if I didn’t see you and Blake’s adorable little guy.

Yang:Thanks, but you would’ve found the resolve. Always do. Garnet is even more proof. How is the little hell raiser?

Ruby:At the park with papa. Has Kovu called you about Carmine yet?

Yang:Pfft, no. I’m positive he doesn’t know she’s there, and I’ve been told not to tell him.

Ruby:She called you!?

Yang:Yeah. She was practically begging. Not that she needed to.

Ruby:Hmm….

Yang:….Hasn’t called you in awhile?

Ruby:Not as often as I’d like…I don’t know. It’s complicated. We’re complicated.

Yang:If she’s anything like her mom, which she is, I’m certain Carmine just doesn’t know how to talk to you these days. Let her be for now.

Ruby:I think the one she got from me is using work to ignore figuring stuff out. Can’t think about family drama if you’re busy shooting a Nevermore, hehe sigh… You know what’s weird? I can’t imagine how mom would feel in these situations. She never got see us start living our lives.

Yang:I’m sure she would’ve been a little conflicted like anybody else.

Ruby:On one hand, I want my girl to comeback not just to spend time together, but because I know the world can be dangerous. There’s moments I want to guide her through personally; even if they aren’t the ones she wants to know. On the other hand…I’m highly aware the world is better because of what she’s doing.

Yang:Gee, kinda sounds like when you ran off ahead of everyone all those years ago.

Ruby:That was…kinda different.

Yang:…….

Ruby:Okay, maybe not so different.

Yang:Eventually Carmine is going to learn to either slow down for others to catch up, or go back for them. In this case, I’m leaning towards her coming to you.

Ruby:You sound so certain.

Yang:Of course! Despite the ups and downs, it’s so clear your daughter doesn’t just love you with every bone in her body. Ruby, she’s your biggest fan; the hero she adores shamelessly. That’s tough feelings for a kid, especially when it’s mixed with family. It’s not exactly the same but didn’t you have days you wished mom was around as you improved? Imagine all the things you wanted her to say or do with you as both a parent and a mentor.

Ruby:I could write a book about it. *slouches* Daughters are rough. Don’t know how dad and uncle Qrow managed with us.

Yang:We were awesome and incredibly well behaved!

Ruby:….

Yang:Yeah I didn’t believe it either. Anyways I gotta go. Don’t stress out Rubes. Our kids are growing up. We unfortunately have to trust the process. No matter how much it hurts.

Ruby:Imagine Kovu comes back home with a girlfriend?

Blake, in the distance: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!?

Yang:Blake, you met everyone you love there. Including me!

Blake:Still against it.

Yang:What!?

Ruby:*hangs up*

Front Door opens

Ruby:How was the park you two? *turns around*

Carmine:…..

Ruby:…..

Carmine:*walks to stairs*

Ruby:Wait! Hold o- you’re here! In the house!

Carmine:Yes, those are all facts you just said.

Ruby:Did you…hear-

Carmine:Nope. Everything you said on the phone is a mystery. *walks up stairs* …..I’ll help make dinner tonight

Ruby:Heh, okay! Sounds like a plan!

…….

Carmine:*peeks from corner* It’s good to see you by the way. I…missed you. *leaves*

Ruby:(Yeah, definitely my kid.)

#rwby #carmine arc rose #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #rwbabies #rwby rosebud

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what-gs-watching · 6 months

Text

“Now, I may be wrong, but frankly, I doubt it.”

So I finished a draft of my new and improved resume today and I’m super jazzed about it. It looks hella professional (jokes on you, recruiters!) and it makes sense in a way my resumes never have before. I’ve got that nice, warm feeling of accomplishment going. Gotta appreciate the little wins where you can.

Keeping with this nice little boost ( while I listen to 1989 Taylor’s Version), I wanna talk about another comfort show I got into last year. Stay with me here, really.

Murder, She Wrote.

HEAR ME OUT!

Wherein a retired English teacher from a sleepy seaside town in Maine that never gentrifies simultaneously discovers she’s incredible at writing murder mysteries and solving real life murders.

If you were born in the 80’s like I was, you’ve seen at least pieces of episodes on tv when you were a kid. You could probably recognize the intro music and you most likely think ‘yeah, I’m good on that.’ BUT! But, but, but….

It’s really got everything. Random murders with ridiculous weapons that make you go ‘I really don’t think that would have killed someone’ and dead bodies with very little blood. Like, there’s never blood. And random guest stars you’d never expect. And murderers you can guess sometimes and sometimes you can’t because it’s convoluted or silly but that makes the episode better. But those wily murderers are always, always caught.

And there are TWELVE SEASONS! 264 episodes, running longer than the typical 42 minutes because we used to not shove so many ads down our fucking throats.

I spent like, nine months making my way through it and it was fantastic. Jessica Fletcher is an absolute badass, and she’s the grandmother figure I didn’t even realize I wanted. This bish is polite to a fault, whip smart, observant, and she faces down murderer after murderer without ever losing her nerve. She is utterly fierce, but kind. And you don’t really get a lot of female characters like that.

This powerhouse would outwit cops easily, solve their shit with the weirdest clues and seemingly random details, and then she’d make them feel like they did a good job and let them take the credit. She doesn’t want notoriety, she’s already got it through her best sellers, she just wants to help and ultimately catch the bad guy.

There are so many things I love about this show. It satisfies my pure, unadulterated lust for ridiculous murders, while making you feel cozy as hell. It’s comforting to know that by the end of the episode someone was going down and everything would be wrapped up neatly. Sometimes you need that.

And the fact that her character is an extremely accomplished writer in the universe is wonderful. Like, she sat down at her kitchen table one day and banged out some incredible book. And then kept doing it. Throughout the series, there’s mention of like THIRTY different books that she wrote. It’s totally implausible, there’s no way she’s writing like two books a year while also running into all these dead bodies but I love it. It makes my heart happy. It makes me want to write something, finally. Something real.

And y’all. The cameos. THE CAMEOS! Young Courtney Cox. JERRY ORBACH and his entire arc! George freakin’ Clooney. Baby Neil Patrick Harris! That one guy from that thing, and that chick from the other thing! Literally, everyone. I got my sister watching and she was behind me so every couple of days she was getting texts about who popped up. It’s impressive, really. If you were trying to be anyone in the late eighties, early nineties, you had to get your ass on Murder, She Wrote.

ALSO, Angela Lansbury is amazing. Hell of an actress, talent oozing from her pores. At one point, she plays her own British cousin, and it’s fantastic. She was in her 60’s when the show started! Like, someone gave a 60-year-old actress her own show. She was a ground breaker, a glass shatterer. She was a fucking icon.

I’m not sure what I’m driving at here really, but the show is just, such a place and time. And that place and time are really beautiful and relaxing and soothing and silly and entertaining. You don’t get shows like this anymore. Everything has to be edgy and dark and foreboding and yeah it’s a show about murder primarily but it doesn’t feel like that. Why can’t we make fluffy murder shows that make you feel like you're just hanging out with your cool aunt, and she’s radiating the intrinsic knowledge that everything is going to be perfectly fine? Why isn’t that a thing? Are we just that terribly jaded now?

Jessica Fletcher is a treasure. And she’ll warm your heart from the inside out. If you need to be snug and cozy, Cabot Cove is the place for you. It never changes and it never should and there are no loose ends. It’s just nice. And there isn’t enough nice out there. Trust me, and get it where you can.

#what g's watching #comfort show #murder she wrote #angela lansbury #jessica fletcher

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snapscube · 2 years

Note

I played FFXIV a while ago but had a hard time getting into it at the time, and I'd like to give it another go but don't really feel attached to my previous character and want to start fresh. Do you have any advice on getting really immersed in the game? I feel like you mentioned going through something similar before it really clicked for you so just wanted to ask! Hope you're having a good day :)

ABSOLUTE MOST IMPORTANT TIP: Take your time. Settle into the world. Create a character that you really like, and remember: it’s a role-playing game! Certain aspects and mechanics of the game you gotta do a little extra mental legwork to fully appreciate from an immersion standpoint. So roleplay! Take in the sights! Talk to NPCs if that’s your jam! But above all, pay attention to the story and the in-game tips. You don’t have to 100% understand everything right away. I sure as hell didn’t. But you’re only going to get out of the game what you’re able to put into it. It’s gonna be a long journey, so pace yourself and don’t try to rush through to The Good Parts. It took me like 2 years, no exaggeration, to get to Shadowbringers. It doesn’t ACTUALLY take that long to do the MSQ if you’re fast tracking it, or hell even just prioritizing it haha. I know of plenty of people who completely caught up with the story in a matter of a couple months or so. But that’s the beauty of it. I took my damn time getting there. I took MULTIPLE breaks, some for months at a time, and only ever came back when I was ready and the game seemed like something that would hit. And I still got an incredible experience out of it that remains my favorite game and one of my favorite stories ever. So, yknow, I would say in the early hours of the game you might find yourself a little bored or lost. Those are the moments where you want to make sure you’re playing enough that you find a HOOK for you to latch onto. Experiment with different content. Pick up as many blue quest icons as you can, the ones that unlock features & content, and see if you come across something fun. In my experience, it only really takes one or two mechanics or jobs that you find enjoyable to push you into sinking some serious time into the game. And once you’re giving the game your time, you’re likely going to realize that the game in turn really RESPECTS that time, and tries to make the most of it. A lot of features feed into each other, and if you’re enjoying something like, say, crafting really early on, that’s gonna snowball into a million other things you can do later down the road. Once you hit the point where you’ve found a rhythm and you’ve discovered what’s fun about the game to you, it’s all about the journey from there. So relax, give it your attention, and take it at whatever pace you find comfortable and enjoyable.

Here are also a few stray ideas you can take with you:

- I am one of the many who will insist that the game’s writing gets MONUMENTALLY better from Heavensward (The first expansion, included in the free trial of the game) onward. And when I tell you that the change in writing quality and the approach to appealing dialogue and pacing is nearly INSTANT, I really mean it. I would say, if you want to really understand why the story is revered as much as it is, you need to at least push through to Heavensward and see if the improvements to pacing and dialogue appeal to you. If they do, I assure you that (in my opinion) it only gets better and better from there. I can not actually express how good Shadowbringers and Endwalker’s stories are. It’s the kind of thing you NEED to experience to understand.

- There is a wonderful list I’ve linked here that will actually help you track what kinds of content you can unlock in-game based on whatever level your character and MSQ progress are at. It’s extremely thorough and if you need help finding stuff to do, this is a great resource.

- In a similar vein, the official FFXIV YouTube account has a really cute and genuinely well made/helpful starter guide series you can watch if you want some starter tips directly from the team

- Do not worry about the subscription cost for a while. I assure you, if you need to, you can get literally hundreds upon hundreds of hours of content out of the free trial. It took me over a year to get to the point of the game where the free trial gets locked off in terms of MSQ and character level, and even then I hadn’t even done like half of the available content.

My fingers hurt cause i’ve been typing this on my phone so I’m going to stop talking now :) Let me know if you have any more specific questions though and I’d be happy to answer and/or give my take on stuff! I love love love talking about this game.

#ffxiv

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megumiswife4 · 8 months

Text

Entwined Shadows 3

Part: 3

Pairings ~ Megumi x Fem Reader

Warnings ~ slow burn, (possible smut in later chapters), aged-up Fushiguro (as well as other characters), 18+ only PLEASE.

WC ~ 1.3k

This is my first fic here. Please take it easy on me, but I would love to receive constructive criticism to improve my writing; you guys can always leave messages in my inbox or comment below once again thank you for reading, and enjoy.

*( I will be posting every Sunday night for a new chapter)*

Part 2: 👇🏻

Megumi’s POV

I pondered on my own thoughts, trying to figure out a game plan. Was I going to try and confront this man? Or sit back letting this unfold steadily and strategically? I’d prefer seeing this man try to bypass y/n. She was his next target, and yet he thought I would be on board with his scheming plan of being able to drug her and believe he could take her home.

“Please tell me that you’ve seen that too, Itadori?” Rubbing the temples of my forehead annoyedly.

“Yeah, looks like we’ve gotta stay vigilant on this guy.” Tilting his head towards me.

I scoffed in annoyance, the one night out that we decide to unwind we already have trouble coming from our first stop. Y/n needs to have her moment on that stage with Kugisaki, the last thing she needs is some punk ass trying to take advantage of that all because of his greedy little ego; Too bad I’m going to ruin his night a tad bit early.

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

Y/n exuded such a presence on that stage and wowed the entire bar, that even after she was finished everyone applauded with Kugisaki alongside her. Itadori and Megumi both joined in with the rest of the crowd, excited to see the girls having a blast their guards down knowing that they could just be themselves even if it was just for a moment.

Y/n ran up to Itadori excitedly, “How did I do up there?!”

“You did so good!… look behind. You’ve got an entire crowd of people here that thought your performance was badass! Same goes for you too, Kugisaki.” Letting out a minuscule laugh. Both girls thanked Itadori for such a warm compliment, after all he was your guy's best friend and an honest person; If something wasn’t all that great you both would know.

Y/n was gradually making her way over to Megumi before she could take her final steps towards him, an unknown body figure appeared and it was most certainly not Megumi’s.

“Wow, you looked gorgeously phenomenal up there. Did my order of sake shots help a bit with calming your nerves?” The man lustfully smiled, gazing his eyes towards y/n.

“Umm.. yeah it did, I really do appreciate the drinks, it really eased the tension up for me to feel more comfortable.” Uncomfortably smiling.

“Oh my god, where are my manners? I never formally introduced myself. My name is Hayato.” Extending his hand towards y/n.

Laughing a bit awkwardly, reaching to his hand. Instead of having a soft handshake he slowly pulled her hand upward to his lips placing a small kiss. “Uhm… the name is y/n, nice to meet you.”

Finally releasing her hand from his, it was visible she was uncomfortable. “I thought you might like this drink, it was one of the special cocktails of the night that the bar advertised.” He insisted, showcasing the drink in his hand.

Megumi horizened his gaze over Hayato’s shoulder, taking notice that the drink looked awfully different; coincidentally there had been a weird fizzing reaction occurring in the drink and not to mention there was faint white substance slowly sinking into the liquid. Megumi had only recognized it due to Hayato accidentally dropping the small zip bag of the substance much earlier. Y/n nervously smiled grasping ahold of the glass he offered her, suddenly another man’s arm interjected between the two.

“It’s alright man I think she’s had enough to drink for the night. But she appreciates the offer.” Megumi let out a stern smile, offering cash to substitute his cocktail order for her.

“And who are you?” Hayato laughed cunningly, pushing Fushiguros forearm away between the two of them.

“That’s really none of your concern, other than my friend and I are accompanying the girls here.” He hovered over Hayato, vigorously standing between y/n and him now. Proceeding to grab the drink out of his hand pouring it beside him onto the tile floor, his other hand stuffing cash into the pocket of his button up shirt.

Megumi leaned into his ear, “It’s best that you go Hayato, once again thanks for the drink she won’t be needing anything more from you.” As he patted his chest with a small grin plastered on his face.

“You bastard.” He snarled, grabbing ahold of Megumi's perfectly creased collar. Yuji quickly pressed himself against Hayato, “It’s alright Yuji I got it.” Megumi insisted.

“I’m telling you right now man, you really don’t want to do this here.” Fushiguro huffed.

Hayato firmly let go of his collar, gazing over at y/n. “I didn’t really give a shit what your name was, in all honesty I just wanted you to come home with me to have someone accompany me in my bed for the night sweetheart.”

Megumi quickly grasped his throat, tight enough for him to still breathe and speak. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, speaking to a woman like that? You really think that me standing here is going to be the only thing I’m going to do to you for disrespecting her like that? Huh?!” His eyes widening, the color of them darkening with every word he spoke.

Hayato immediately withdrew his way out of Megumi’s hold, “Look man I didn’t mean any harm, I promise!” As he lifted both arms in the air initiating a truce.

“Next time I see you around, I’m not letting you off this easy now get out.” Glaring at the man. Hayato quickly found his way out the bar feeling flustered and was never to be seen afterwards.

“Megumi, what was that all about? All he was trying to do was hand me a drink.” Questioned y/n

“Trust me you’re better off not having it.” He stammered, a hardened look on his face.

Kugisaki looked over at Itadori for an answer, “What was that guy's problem? The one that Fushiguro almost murdered?” Chuckling.

“Well for one, that guy isn’t all sweet like he intended to be when he first greeted y/n. Fushiguro and I were waiting in our section when we noticed an altercation with him and his buddy. As soon as his friend stormed out, Hayato accidentally dropped a bag with white powder inside of it…and well we knew what exactly his plan was afterwards.”

“Okay he’s totally a creep for that, I know for a fact if I had known he was such a weirdo, I would have kicked his ass right in this exact moment.” Kugisaki exclaimed.

“Trust me Kugisaki, Fushiguro and I would have taken care of it. We came with you both. It's kinda our job to be the protectors here.” Itadori insisted.

Megumi and y/n were engaged in their separate conversation from itadori and kugisaki addressing the situation that had occurred. Megumi planted his hand above her head as he lightly patted it, “Y/n I’m just looking out for you, Itadori and I noticed he wasn’t a guy with good intentions just some scum bag looking for a good time, he planned on drugging you; I saw his bag laid out on the floor before he picked it up. And that drink he offered… he was trying to have you out unconscious.” A saddened look appeared on his face.

Guiding his hand to her mid back to ease the tension from this situation, y/n nervously felt his soft hand graze the back of her dress she knew he was only trying to comfort her; but oddly enough she just couldn’t seem to grasp this butterfly feeling in her stomach. He caught a glimpse of y/n, her cheeks bright red. He couldn’t discern whether that was the alcohol flush or just the nervousness displayed by his gentle touch.

“Let’s get going, we still have another place to scope out.” Itadori exclaimed. Nobara, Y/n, and Megumi followed his lead leaving the bar.

“Didn’t you mention that one badass nightclub? It’s got those crazy lights inside with an insane smoke machine?” Nobara responded excitedly.

“Yup! That’s where we’re headed to!” Itadori announced.

The entire group yet again, explored their way into the streets of Shibuya; finding the extravagant nightclub that was greatly talked about throughout the town and its well known locals.

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

TAGLIST: @mariapierce789 @afatalheat

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #gojo satoru #yuji itadori #toji fushiguro #nanami kento #nobara kugisaki #choso kamo #geto suguru #jjk fic #EntwinedShadowsFic #jjk angst #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi smut #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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saltminerising · 1 year

Text

Concerning DTDAY quality

Heya! Fun to see FR drama blogs still exist lol, didn’t know there was another one outside of DRR. Took a curious glance through the posts and was a little bummed to see some of the conversation around DTDAY or folks being scared to participate.

I do art for a living and don’t put a lot of effort into DTDAY, I’ll usually wrap up my drawing in 40 minutes to an hour. But because of doing this a thousand times/having a lot of experience under my belt the result will look good to most people that will receive the art. I can get proportions right pretty fast, I understand volume and colour so it’ll look “right” etc without pouring a lot of time into it. I’ve been doing dragon coms since age 14, I could draw these suckers in my sleep if I needed to. I think that’s probably the case for most folks doing “good” art on these sorta threads.

But if you’re inexperienced or just starting out with drawing I need you guys to understand we know that even an undersketch can take HOURS to look even remotely okay. Drawing decent elipses, or figuring out how snouts might overlap with the rest of the skull can be really tricky if you’re starting out, unless you’ve comfort-zoned into a very simplified style really soon into your art journey. Sometimes you genuinely can’t tell how much effort/time someone put into something. Any other professional could tell you we’ve been stuck on the dumbest thing, sometimes everything just looks off.

I think it’s best to treat DTDAY threads as a gamble. Even simple sketches usually take someone at least 40 minutes of their day. That’s a lot of time. I’ve received some cool art on DTDAY! And some where you can tell the artist is just starting out, and honestly, I think it’s lovely, I get a small piece of this person’s art journey. DTDAY _should_ be a space of low expectations. A place where people can experiment and learn with a fun drawing subject no matter their skill level. And I do think most other people understand that! We’ve all been there. If someome wanted art that matched the quality and effort their work reflects there’s plenty of amazing artists willing to do art trades.

I apologise for the essay, just want to make sure beginner artists know that the rest of us have been there. Whether you’re 34 of 14 we know how hard this stuff is. You gotta get the bad drawings out before you start making good ones and the fundamentals start clicking. Don’t let that keep you from enjoying the process and participating. I hope everyone joins in in DTDAY without fearing you’ll dissapoint or you’re not good enough. One of the best ways to improve is having a fandom thing you’re into and that mileage (and extra incentive to deliver!) can be a great part of your artistic development!

#art tag 🏷#long post #submission #draw the drama above you

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anotherwvba · 13 days

Text

Learning on the Job pt. 5

The sun started its rise over the WVBA Campus on a chilly Thursday morning. Long shadows were cast as the light bathed everything in a soft, golden glow. Gemma and Skye were already deep into what had rapidly become a morning routine. Both dressed for the cold November air, their breathe formed tiny clouds as they pounded the pavement. This was the second of their three laps around the Atlanta city block the WVBA called home.

As they ran, they talked. It was a conversation kept at a comfortable pace to match their run. They mostly discussed Gemma’s training, areas where she could improve, what she was doing well, and just general anticipation for her match in just two days. But, it wasn’t long before Gemma brought up the elephant in the room.

“Skye, if I may ask,” Skye began, her British accent pronounced from exertion, “why isn’t Mika joining us today? She’s been with us every step until now.”

“Before I answer that,” Skye glanced at Gemma with a slight smile, “I just gotta know. Still nervous about Saturday?”

There was a thoughtful silence for a few moments, only the ambient sounds of early morning in the city and their footfalls breaking in. When Gemma answered, her voice was a mix of apprehension and an honest confidence that wouldn’t have been there a week ago.

“Of course, I am.” Their pace remained steady as Gemma continued. “I’ve never done anything like this. That is to say, the fight itself. The audience, in the arena or on the telly, doesn’t bother me. But, the notion of a trained boxer trying to pound me senseless… I’m not terrified anymore, thanks to the training and sparring with you and Mika, but I am… let’s say, ‘anxiously excited.’”

Skye nodded as they rounded the corner past the Campus Apartments. “That’s good. Real good.” City sounds and shoes smacking sidewalk filled the air as Skye considered her next words. “Ya’ know, there’s another way boxing and acting are alike. It’s not just in the practice and the rhythm and the improv. There’s a lot of mental prep. A whole lot.”

Gemma chuckled lightly, “You mean like finding your character? Learning to think and feel as the person you’re meant to play?”

“Not far off,” Skye smiled, happy with how quickly Gemma was learning, but then turned serious. “In boxing, you’ve gotta get yourself to see the guy or gal in front of you as an opponent, not a person. An opponent is something to be overcome. Ya’ gotta be able to do things to an opponent you’d never do to another human being.”

“That sounds,” Gemma seemed taken aback as she searched for the words, “a bit… I don’t know, harsh? Wouldn’t you say?”

The pair slowed down near the steps of The Omni, the arena that Gemma where would be fighting in just two short days. Coming to a stop, Skye pulled out her water bottle and Gemma followed suit. After a deep swig and a little thought, Skye looked up at the marquee and explained.

“It is. And it can be hard, like, really hard.” Skye sighed and Gemma could see Skye searching for words. “I grew up in Chicago. It was rough. I was picked on in school, bullied. When you’ve got people wanting to beat you up for no reason on the regular, ya harden up pretty quick. So when I got into boxing, I channeled that. Like, if I fought you, as big a fan as I am, as awesome as it’s been hanging with you and showing you the ropes, when I stepped in the ring, I’d look at you and see my bullies and I’d do what had to do.”

Gemma looked at Skye as if seeing her for the first time. “That’s… I’m so sorry you went through that as a child.”

“Oh no, please,” Skye waved it off. “If I hadn’t gone through that growing up, I wouldn’t be the person I am now. But, my point is, for some people, we kinda have a conduit built in. But, for Mika? She’s one of the kindest, most compassionate people you’ll ever meet. For her to get herself to a place where she wants to actually hurt someone? It’s tough on her. I’ve been seeing it firsthand. For her to do that, she’s gonna need some distance.”

Skye took another drink from her water bottle as understanding flicker Gemma’s eyes. She stared up at the marquee now, too, the matches for Saturday scrolling by. Eventually, they saw it.

SATURDAY… MINOR CIRCUIT FIGHT NIGHT… WOMEN’S CIRCUIT ATTRACTION… “THE HEROINE” STAR MIKA… VERSUS… GEMMA GOLDEN… STAR OF “THE BIRMINGHAM BUTTERFLY”...

Gemma’s voice went quiet, “Like exploring a role that’s so different from who you are as a person that you question why you took the part in the first place.”

“Pretty much,” Skye affirmed with warmth and empathy, then rested her hand on Gemma’s shoulder. “Look, Mika doesn’t want to hurt you. She would never inflict pain just for the hell of it. I’m pretty sure I can say the same for you. But the difference is, right now, come Saturday, Mika will enter that ring determined to inflict as much pain and hurt on you as she needs to and win.”

Realization fell heavy on Gemma at that moment. Then, determination took hold. “If I don’t find it in myself, the person who’s willing to fight without reservation, I’m going to get hurt quite badly.” Steeling herself with a deep breath, Gemma looked Skye in the eyes, “Skye, performer to performer, I need to find my character before Saturday. Would you be willing to help me? I understand if not. It would be a bit awkward, what with Mika being your flatmate and all.”

Skye smiled without hesitation, “Girl? You think I’m gonna dip on you in your moment of need? I’d never forgive myself if my favorite actor got busted up and I coulda made sure she at least gave as good as she got.”

A tear rolled down Gemma’s cheek, “Thank you, so much, Skye.”

“We’ll find the fighter in you,” Skye said with confidence. “Besides, Mika wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s why she offered to help you in the first place and that’s why she asked me to pitch in. It’ll be hard, but you can do it.”

Renewed focus and drive swept over Gemma as she took a last swallow of her water and tucked the bottle away. With a gesture to the sidewalk, the rest of their run ahead them, Gemma smiled, “Well, then. We shouldn’t waste all this beautiful daylight. Shall we?”

Star Mika is an OC belonging to @cyrah-is-cool101 and is used with permission.

#punch out #super punch out #punch out wii #punch-out!!#super punch-out!!#punch-out!! wii #punch out oc #punch out fanfic #wvba #gemma golden #skye ivy

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stergeon · 23 days

Note

for the writer ask

💭🚦💛 💌

💭 What inspires you and your writing?

this is a real marketing major-ass answer (from your local marketing major), but i love sharing knowledge and telling stories. writing’s one of those things that’s a bit of a compulsion for me—i’m always writing something. i took a five-year break from fiction writing before i stumbled ass-first into fanfic last year, but even in those years when i was focusing on my career, i was writing guides and trainings and a ton of other stuff—just not anything fun, lol.

writing is also so cathartic. sometimes i set out to tell a specific story, but at other times, a particular emotion gets me in a vice grip and i have to put it to words before it’ll go away. my stories tend to wind up as emotional dumping grounds as a result.

i don’t write things pulled directly from my own life, but there are bits and pieces of myself and things that have happened to me scattered throughout stuff i’ve written, and usually when i’m about 75% of the way through a piece, i’ll realize it’s absolutely related to something i’m currently going through. funny how art works that way, even when you don’t intend for it to.

and occasionally i just have a fire lit under my ass about an issue and i get so hot about it that i gotta compile my thoughts. looking at you, silver snow

🚦 What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?

look, i would love nothing more for them girls (pick whichever girls you please) to have a happy ending where they kiss and are stupid in love for the rest of forever. i love reading those kinds of stories. but in my heart of hearts, i love an ambiguous ending. i like when there are still questions after the story ends. i like thinking about where things could go or how the characters will go on after the events of the story. like, shared space could be read as having a happy ending, but i don’t really think it is. and with the victors; the vestiges, well. you’ll see :0)

come to think of it, i’m not sure i’ve ever written a happily-ever-after, but i don’t think i’ve ever written a 100% bad ending, either. i read too many bury-your-gays stories and watched too many sad european queer coming-of-age films in my youth to ever be happy putting that kinda thing out into the world. i want to write about love with all its ugliness, but not despair or hopelessness. i think what most appeals to me about an ambiguous ending is that lingering feeling of hope. it’s not the same as the kind you get from a happily-ever-after, and something about it speaks to me.

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

honestly? how to take criticism. i took a creative writing class in high school where we had to read our work out loud and then receive feedback on it from the other writers in the class, and that did a lot for me. going into that class, i’d already been writing for forever and had won some little local writing contests and such, so i was a wee bit of a pretentious douche. but i’d never gotten real critique before beyond, essentially, spelling and grammar checks. it humbled me lol. it made me grow so much as a writer, and i could see where i needed to improve or where my head was wedged way too far up my own ass for others to follow. it also helped me recognize strengths i didn’t know i had, and that was huge. it’s easy to get into a self-doubt spiral when making creative work, and good, constructive criticism can do so much to help avoid that.

to this day i love critique. i like knowing what worked or didn’t work so that i can continue to improve as a writer and do better next time. did my themes land? did something really work, but another part fall flat? i’d love to know!! i try to treat everything i write as practice for the next thing, and frankly that’s helped take some of the pressure off so i don’t go into total Perfectionist Mode.

i know critique is kind of a sensitive topic in fan spaces, but i think that’s because a lot of people have gotten unsolicited criticism that is purely critical and isn’t constructive. but getting good, constructive criticism will do so much to help a person grow as a writer. it’s scary, and sometimes it hurts! writing is very personal for most people, and it stings when things aren’t received the way you think they will be. but i know i’ve grown more from having my failures pointed out (and, very importantly, having the good things about those efforts acknowledged) than anything else.

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

actually Just answered this in another ask!

#sterge.eml #foxyjeongin #thank you for playing my little game and letting me talk about stories (and about me lmao)#sorry this is kind of a long post #i talk too much #i think i sound pretentious in this ask whoops. sorry #unfortunately i kind of am. i’m working on it.#… i guess the short answer to that first question is ‘emotions and mental illness’ lol #if you follow me on twitter (not recommended as it’s just me complaining about the weather and not being able to ride my motorcycle)#you know that every time i bring up my writing in therapy my therapist rocks my shit by revealing the story is #in fact.#NOT about what i thought it was about #or more accurately it’s ALSO secretly about whatever’s going on with me in real life lmao #y’know what’s really fun? looking back at something you wrote in a manic or depressive episode and going ah. hm. interesting.#the signs were. in fact. there.#(this is in fact not fun and i don’t like it. but it always happens.)#everything i write is accidentally Also about being bipolar. no getting around that #i tend to have issues organizing my thoughts and feelings to even figure out how tf i’m feeling #(forget making any attempt at doing so verbally. i have chronic foot-in-mouth disorder and accidentally say shit i don’t mean all the time)#but writing stuff down has always helped me sort through whatever mess is going on in my noggin and i love it for that #learning how to take critique is my no. 1 piece of writing advice but no. 2 is to read #read the classics. find out why they’re classics. read weird shit. read shit you don’t like. find things you like about em anyway.#and importantly: figure out WHY you do or don’t like it #it’s funny to re-read a book i haven’t read in a long time and discover OH. that’s where i get that technique from.#or that’s where i got that idea. or that’s why i had X thing happen in this story.#or why i like this type of character or scenario #nothing’s truly new and original #we’re all an amalgamation of influences and that ruuuuules #celebrate it!!!

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memestockpile · 1 year

Text

newsies (1992) feel free to change as needed.

rise and shine.

wake up, [name], the world is waiting.

that’s my cigar.

since when did you become my mother?

aw, stop your bawling.

how’d you sleep?

the streets are full of fakes these days.

you smell foul.

met this girl last night.

for a buck, i might.

ain’t it a fine life?

what’s your leg say? feel like rain?

hey, stupid, that ain’t news no more.

why do i gotta be saddled with you?

i’m keeping my eye on you.

stupid question.

better choke it, before you need another patch.

boy, ain’t nature fascinating when you’ve gotta walk?

just gimme half a cup. something to wake me up.

we need a good assassination.

i get better stories from the copper on the beat.

dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma?

you ugly little shrimp!

you shouldn’t be calling people ugly little shrimps, unless you’re talking about the family resemblance.

ride ‘em, cowboy!

don’t rush me, i’m perusing the merchandise.

you calling me a liar, kid?

i don’t take charity from nobody.

alright, i give up.

what do they call you, kid?

how old are you?

i don’t need you, pal.

sixty-forty, or i forget the whole thing.

i got a hot tip on the fourth, won’t waste your money.

‘baby born with two heads’. must be from brooklyn.

you give me headlines that would put a whirling dervish to sleep!

what is that deafening noise?

i want to know by tonight.

you’re a natural, kid. you remind me of me -- and i can’t say any greater than that.

our father taught us not to lie.

it ain’t lying. it’s just improving the truth a little.

you young miscreant!

you wouldn’t kick me out without a kiss goodbye, would’ja?

where’ve you been, kid?

aren’t you the cutest little fella ever?

get that cake your mother’s been hiding in the cabinet.

i’m alone, but i ain’t lonely.

why should you only take what you’re given?

so that’s what they call a family.

you missed your supper.

bad idea, chief.

alright, pipe down!

what have we here?

we got a ton of rotten fruit and perfect aim.

the world will know that this ain’t no game.

so’s your old lady!

you don’t need money when you’re famous. they give you whatever you want.

i gotta be either dead or dreaming.

let’s get drunk.

ain’t i pretty!

it’s my city.

i’m the king of new york!

tomorrow, they may wrap fishes in it, but i was a star for one whole minute!

my name really gonna be in the papers?

spent a month there one night.

maybe you lost your guts.

don’t worry, i’ll carry you.

i don’t want nobody carrying me.

you check the funny papers this morning?

this brain of mine, always making mistakes. got a mind of its own.

you are so young...

he put an egg in his shoe and beat it.

sounds like you and [name] don’t do nothing but talk about me.

just being with you makes me feel all kinds of extra.

i’m dead! i’m in heaven! somebody give me a harp!

sometimes, the living is sweet. sometimes, there’s nothing to eat. but i always land on my feet.

i put on my best, i stick out my chest, and i’m off to the races again!

what’re we supposed to do to the bums? kiss ‘em?

you win some, you lose some, my dear!

i said hands off the kid, you red-faced baboon!

talk and eat, right? on you, huh, pal?

they’re building some mighty good jails, these days.

how ‘bout i roll it for you? double or nothing.

people think wars are about right and wrong. they’re not. they’re about power.

you bribing me?

ring for my coach, will’ya?

it’s past my bedtime.

shut your mouth and listen!

you’re going to do exactly as i say.

think over it in your cell.

that hand is not ready to work.

don’t be too hard on your friend.

‘scuse me, sweetface.

guess i can’t be something i’m not.

be quiet and let me think.

right or wrong ain’t worth a damn, now.

you thinking you’d like to take a shot at my schnozz, right? five to one says you can’t break it.

you’re going to listen to me, boy.

easy, lad! you don’t have to run, anymore.

won’t be the same without you.

i ain’t no good at writing and stuff, but i’ll be thinking of you.

#roleplay meme #tumblr roleplay #roleplay #tumblr rp #rp meme #rp #inbox rp meme #rp inbox meme #inbox meme #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starter meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #askbox rp #askbox meme #ask meme #askbox #ask

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kirby-the-gorb · 1 year

Text

reply roundup :)

I am so sleepy. also photo of my fancy phone case I was so excited about under the cut.

on [flap] @macro-microcosm said: HAPPY KIRBY FLAP HAPPY KIRBY FLAP HAPPY KIRBY FLAP- so glad I'm not the only one who thinks he does this. and I relate, things aren't great but at least there are cute things to be a comfort

he is my little projection orb, therefore he must flail his little nubs around in excitement as I do. (also I hope things have improved for you, I’ve still got another 2 1/2 weeks to wait but hopefully the news will be good -n- )

this is how the phone case turned out btw! it’s by CandyDulceDeco on [etsy] or at candydulcedeco.com, they were very patient with working out all the little details and everything :> (that little post in the top corner is for a little loop to put phone charms on, I repurposed a bracelet with rainbow gummy bears as a little phone strap sometime after taking this photo)

on [meds] @plushslug said: I have MCAS too. Sucks hard. Keep fighting the good fight out there and may your symptoms be manageable 🫡

same to you *salute emoji I can’t find rn* (love your icon btw)

on [milk] @graycoin said: Ah shit, that sounds rough. You can Get Through It, but I am sorry you gotta. :/

thanks, I appreciate both the vote of confidence and the sympathy -n- (and in your other comment as well. thank you in general to the folks leaving supportive comments even though I don’t post them all, I really do appreciate it.)

I also appreciate everyone who rushed to give baby his choccy milk or demanded he get it, with special mention to @justawanderingfan who went so far as to [add] the glass (and the resulting smile) themself :)

on [keyblade] @angeryspeedo said: look at him. he is just a little guy...

every time someone tags my kirb as “just a little guy” or “a bean” or something like this I become more powerful :) (I even made a post on my personal blog when I first saw this tag that it means I Win At Art. there are many ways to win at art and I win often. drawing something that makes me laugh, drawing something my wife thinks is pretty, drawing something, drawing something that makes a stranger add a funny tag, etc. these are all Art Victories of equal value. I think this is a good way to think of creative hobbies.)

also on [keyblade] @joekingv1 said: *wonders who was baby's favorite character*

I think of the playable characters in birth by sleep, ventus would be their favorite. (both because kirby probably relates to him most and because his combat is most amenable to just mashing regular attack and dodge the whole time (which is mostly what I did lol)) out of all of kingdom hearts I do think they’d vibe with sora. my dirtboys.

on [crochet] @duerme07 said: this -feels- crochet in a way that few other images have conveyed

thanks! it’s because I hate making small gauge amigurumi and have bad eyesight so this is exactly what I looked like for approximately 3 hours immediately following this drawing :)

on [blanket] @ceylonsilvergirl said: life has its ups and downs, is never just one or the other. stick it out through the difficult times And I will find comfy blanket time again

comfy blanket time can be anytime. even or especially during the hard times. (I hope you’ve got a break coming down the line too.)

on [valentimes] @wishiwould said: I sent this to all my family and sent the creator money on ko-fi bc delightful

extremely sweet of you, thank you so much! I always love finding valentines like this to send to my wife so I’m so glad I could make something similar for someone else lol (yes I did send this drawing to my wife and my partner for valentines day :v )

on [vacant] @sagessmoke said: he's a static image right, when i scrolled onto him he blinked and i need to know if im okay

yep, he’s a static image. when you’re seeing stuff directly from me, I always tag any moving image with “gif” even if it’s a small amount of animation. (my eyes play tricks on me sometimes too.)

anonymous asked: Do you like META KNIGHTTTT METAKNIGHHHHHYYYTTT

yeah he’s pretty neat! significantly more Shapes required to draw him than a kirborb tho lol

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bettsfic · 2 years

Text

i don’t want to bother my friends ranting about this thing i’m writing so for once i’m going to use my blog as an actual blog.

in what is becoming the grand tradition of going to writing residencies, i’ve pulled another “oh god i gotta finish this project before i go to this writing residency to work on a project.”

in this case i’ve taken the stray threads of dirtbag that i couldn’t follow in fanfic and shoved the characters from baby into it. and...it’s working? i remember writing baby thinking, these are the right characters but this might not be the right story. and now i think i have the right story. all my other projects i’ve been hesitant about because editors would want to label them YA when they have way too much smut for that. not to mention, you know, they’re just not for younger audiences. this story can in no way be construed as YA. everybody’s old and miserable. hooray!

this thing has 7 alternating POV characters, 43 chapters, and spans 50 years. i had to build a whole-ass airtable database to keep track of character trajectories, back stories, and motivations. not to mention outlining it was so complicated i couldn’t use gdocs for it. airtable is the only way to keep a handle on the plot. but! it’s doing a very good job of it. it was just a bitch and a half to set up. 100% worth it to be able to locate all my ideas and notes easily.

i started working on it on monday and now it’s friday and it’s 45k words (some of it is taken from select scenes in dirtbag, some of it is from several trash docs repurposing some darlings, so it’s not a raw word count; i’d say what i’ve actually written is closer to 25k). i’m starting to have some hand problems so i’m going to take it easy over the weekend i think, and probably invest in an ergonomic keyboard.

i honestly think one of the reasons this is going so smoothly is because of gdoc’s quality of life improvements. the way i used to draft involved a new document for every chapter, which gets confusing and annoying quick for big projects, but now i keep everything in one document and use the outlining feature for navigating and the drop-down menu feature for labeling what state of drafting each chapter is on. long projects have gotten sooooo much easier.

the best part is that i know all the major plot beats AND the ending. endings for original work have always been hard for me because i love my HEA, but literary fiction is all :/ about HEA endings*. but this one is too complicated for HEA, and anyway the whole thing is about secrets, so most of the conflict derives from a series of reveals. if you’ve been reading dirtbag, you’re getting a fraction of that already. it’s a lot of, how did we even get here? how have you made so many awful decisions and why?? the other conflict is, all these characters are distant from each other and they’re all slooooowly converging, which is one of my favorite plot structures.

ALSO my entire writing life i’ve wanted to write a bank robbery book. this is it. it’s finally it. i have a father/daughter bank robbing duo and they are everything i’ve ever dreamed about writing. i never wrote about bank robberies before because i just don’t think they’re interesting enough to carry a whole plot. i mean, there are only so many ways to rob a bank? there’s only so much drama there? but in this case it’s only carrying a fraction of the plot. the only things i have to research now are cuckolding and dodging the vietnam draft. i bought a book on the latter, but i don’t think there’s a book on the former (besides darryl by jackie ess, shout out to darryl by jackie ess). to reddit, i guess.

this whole thing is going to be very overwhelming, i’m sure, and revisions will probably involve a lot of paring down and killing darlings, but that is a problem for future betts. current betts is just having a good time organizing her silly little airtable base and formatting her silly little story.

i’m also glad not to feel too fragile about this. i really thought vandal was going to get published but i’m just still so terrified of it being out in the world. i feel more like how i felt about zucchini, confident that it belonged somewhere and had an audience. i know what it is and so i don’t think, once it gets to a good enough place, that feedback will feel as jarring. the only thing i’m afraid of is my own hubris, where every time i start a project i think “this is going well! i’ll be finished soon!” and then it’s three years later and i’m wondering when i’ll pick it up again and if i’ll ever publish a book.

i’ll probably keep updates going because sometimes i just want to think about the process of writing it rather than writing it. i feel bad for not finishing the other fics i was planning to work on, but i’m just too excited about this.

and for those reading dirtbag, don’t worry, it’s done and updates will continue twice a week.

* talking about endings in contemporary literary fiction is so funny to me because they’re all kind of awful. i had this running joke in my mfa cohort that every contemporary literary novel ends with a potluck. i mean it’s absurd how many lit novels end in a potluck.

#bk #writing update

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raxistaicho · 1 year

Text

Are we not Engaged? Part 7

Spoilers under the cut

Amber Alear C: He likes alpacas. This guy’s an idiot.

Alcryst Boucheron C: Alcryst wants Boucheron to be his fitness coach so he can be more confident, lol.

Citrinne Yunaka C: Citrinne is on to Yunaka and orders her to confess. Yunaka used to be a Brodian assassin but put that behind her. lol, “I’ll hear everything you have to say, but later.”

Heheh, Severa’s bond rings are better than Cordelia’s. That should please her.

Lucina Paralogue?

Oh this is one of those recycled maps. Figures.

“That fight was when I saw how strong my father really was,” Yeah he sure did abuse pair up to beat you :p

Oh I have to fight Lucina? I’ve already beaten her up a few times in the arena so this shouldn’t be hard lol.

Hmm her berzerkers are a bit spooky but that’s about all.

I fucking hate how I have to toggle network stuff back off after I check my relay trial thing.

So how best to tactically deal with the berserkers. I know, I’ll just do what I always do!

Please eliminate the stuff that’s bothering me, Celine.

“I don’t see where I could hit :(” but Alear has a 100% hit rate.

“Compared to when we first met, you’ve grown strong and become a formidable opponent.”

Yeah she’s gotten really good at unleashing Celine!

Lucina says her bonds with her allies helped her change a hopeless future, but she came from the game where you lowman to win. Hah.

Oh nice, there’s a whole 10 extra levels on Emblem bonds.

Alcryst Ivy C: Alcryst is still mad about his father’s death. Ivy apologizes, which blows his fucking mind. She just wants peace. Alcryst is surprised to be working with Ivy but wants to try to move forward. Good support!

Diamant Ivy B: Ivy feels awkward to be working with Diamant, but thanks him for the previous support as a first step toward improving relations between their nations. Another good support!

On with the story.

Soln is a desert. Oh no.

Ivy’s melting D:

Hmm, the Four Hounds tried to attack Solm a few times without success.

According to Ivy, Ike is among the most powerful of the Emblem rings. Gotta shill for Ike XO

Party’s lost lol.

Oh, it’s not-Claude. Fogado’s cocky as hell. At least this time I’m not getting shot at. Fogado has a mission, sound like Corrupted are about in the desert.

I just noticed Firene was the only time I met the older sibling first.

Pandreo’s freakout was funny.

I think I already don’t like Bunet.

Jesus Pandreo’s bases are stupid

I really approve of Engage’s use of desert movement slowing.

Neither Alfred nor Diamant has met the royal family beyond the queen. The Queen doesn’t keep very close tabs on her family, oddly.

Big castle.

This joke about Fogado being the prince and nobody knows it is dragging on much too long.

Lol jesus he just shouts “Hey mom, visitors!”

Oh no, Evil Marth and Veyle laughing about it.

Also what’s Sombron doing? Should he be going on a rampage or something?

Alear Chloe B: Chloe gushes about how Alear is living like a fairy tale hero, whlie Alear counters she’d rather a more normal life. This is actually not a bad one and it makes me like Alear a little more.

Alear Framme B: Framme’s fangirling again.

Celine Alfred C: Alfred is... digging a hole. He’s trying to dig a well. By himself. Because he heard the kitchen staff saying they didn’t have enough water. Celine gets exasperated and says they can fetch water from the river.

Louis Ivy C: He wants to cheer Ivy up, she’s a little awkward.

Framme Diamant B: Framme’s upset because she’s learned that Brodia’s history is almost constant warring with Elusia for territory, and she fears Diamant didn’t tell her that because he was deceiving her. Diamant reassures her he’s not proud of Brodia’s history and wants to make amends (also, Brodia is Red!Faerghus, lol, they’re defined by a strong warrior culture), but Framme still has trouble trusting him.

Celine Chloe B: Recounts how they first met: Celine was traveling incognito to a tea farm when her vessel couldn’t depart and she was sad and Chloe gave her a ride without recognizing her. Why the fuck does Celine make a habit of traveling incognito by herself for tea? It’s bad enough that she’s a princess doing this, but Alfred’s sick so she could still realistically have to succeed the throne.

Lyn Paralogue. It’s based off the Mulagir gaiden from FE6. They chose one of the worst maps from a game she wasn’t in :(

Lyn talks a bit about living in the Lorca tribe, which is cute.

Lyn’s pretty weak but she’s annoyingly dodgy and can use her Emblem attack to attack at 10 range every other turn.

Chapter 13

Seforia’s a rather plain woman. She’s goofy though. Of course. She has no idea what’s going on. Also she doesn’t know where the ring is.

Why does Timerra look and sound younger than Fogado.

Fuck I hate her too.

Bandit twins!

Lots of fog and destructibles.

Lol Ike powers up axes which Timerra cannot use. He’s going to Diamant after this.

This time the bandit twins were treated rather seriously. Weird.

Solm has spies in all the countries so they found out first Sombron was back, but they didn’t ask for help because they were too isolationist, what the fuck? This game’s plot falls apart if people stop being fucking idiots.

Also they have Corrin.

Also Hortensia is back, fuck.

#fire emblem engage #spoilers

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mass-convergence · 1 year

Note

For the fic asks!

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

Okay so for #3 I accidentally wrote a whole goddamn novel so I'm putting that under a cut because I don't want to clog the dash.

42.

I'm not sure - I love all comments and they all stick with me. I suppose one that did stick out with me was on my first chapter of The Ones You Trust the Most where someone left an extremely lovely comment about being intrigued by the premise and that my writing style was enjoyable.

Some of the other comments have come from my IRL friends who I usually go to when I'm feeling a little down on my self. One of whom has said they regularly pull up the PDFs of excerpts I send them whenever they're feeling down because they like my writing which ... 🥺

45.

Something I've improved upon ... whooo ... uh. Commas. Yeah. I mean I still sprinkle commas liberally through my fic but at least I'm more cognizant of the fact that semi-colons, conjunctions, and hell even periods exist.

I think, especially with a more complicated/intricate plot line that I'm planning with The Ones You Trust the Most (be forewarned) ... I've been getting better at getting into a character's mind and motives to really say "why would she do this?" "why would this be their strategy to achieve their goal? How would that conflict with another's goals/strategies? How can I create tension and conflict out of that?"

It's carried over into my NaNo fic though that pile of shit (and I say this affectionately) is going to need an entire rework since I'm just getting into the character's brains finally.

Tropes: I really like the Deadpan Snarker character trope and you can pry that from my cold, dead hands. Though I am careful not to fall into the Whedon-dialog trap where snark is literally all the dialog and there's no sincerity.

Self-insert: Self-inserts happen probably more regularly than I care for. There's like two warring factions in my head about it: the "most authors in original literature have put themselves somewhere in the story to comment on it", just have fun with it Mass and the deep-rooted self-loathing I've developed due to being a fanfic writer in the late aughts when Mary Sues and self-inserts were synonymous and also the worst crime unto fanfic/literature one could commit. I don't think I'll ever truly get over that mental block.

And the thing is, self-inserts ... aren't really that bad and logically I know that - again, many authors in original fic have done the same. Some of them were a little pompous with their insert-character waxing philosophical on some very weird shit (looking at you Heinlein) but some of them were so subtle you didn't really realize it upon a casual reading. Emotionally, however, I'm reverted to high school me just religiously checking a literal Mary Sue checker to see if they were Sues... Which wasn't great either. Because your character can be a fully fleshed out character with pathos, flaws, etc. and still have like purple eyes and bat wings or some shit and their name is Enoby.

Also ... y'know ... have fun with it. And I think my issue is that even though I have that instinct to put an SI in ... that other side of my brain that still clings to high school writing absolutely does not have fun with it while mature me is like, "I'm writing fanfic, not [insert literary "masterpiece" we had to read for English class here]"

Dialog and nodding as a crutch: and this is a kinda bad habit I've picked up over the years, I get a tad worried I'm using "[character] said" too much - and like I know: "said's not dead" etc.

But my brain's like, "Maybe add them doing some kind of gesture or movement?"

To which my instinct is like, "I WILL HAVE THEM NOD"

Which then upon rereading I realize my characters are a bunch of bobbleheads and I've gotta rewrite the interaction. I am working on rectifying that and finding better things for characters to do during dialog or even saying, "Every piece of dialog doesn't need a character doing something unless it's something worth pointing out in terms of the personality of the character."

Results have been varied and I have written an entire essay on my writing style. I don't apologize.

#fic asks #mass answers shit #seriously question 3 turned into a way longer answer than it aught to have but ... what can I say I'm verbose

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