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bamsara · 2 years

Note

i know "When did you stop loving me?" is an angsty one, BUT what if it was actually an overly dramatic lament bc someone didn't get their way?

(I love that twist! Note: This written prompt is fluff/domestic shenanigans with Y/N having a habit of poor self-care, but the DA helps that.)

(This is a bit long so maybe not a drabble but a one-shot, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!)

You're a college student with a hetic, inconsistant schedule job and more stressers in your life that would make a therapist whistle, so you're not exactly the best at self-care, or even regular human maintence. Your eating schedule was flakey at best and the contents of your fridge wasn't anything healthy if just something to pop into the microwave very quickly to save time. Sometimes your apartment would get dirty quickly and with no mental energy or time to clean it up, you just lived a little gross for a while. Don't even get started on your sleep schedule.

The Daycare Attendant, you realize, became quite aware of your situation more-so than they already had after their 'permanent moving' into your home, and thus you've been subjected to more life changes in the last week than you'd ever be prepared for.

Sun uses your phone to order healthier groceries and and tsks at the instant-microwave meals in your cabinet. He's gotten into cooking, which is both incredably odd considering he's a robot, but amusing when you walk into the living room and he's watching an a show of middle aged women teaching the viewers how to make veggie pasta.

Maybe he misses arts and crafts back when he was at the pizzaplex, and just liked to work with his hands. Something hints at you this is a correct assumption because the fruit he cuts for you are star and heart shaped and he likes to take pictures with your phone afterwards. You don't get it, but it makes him happy and keeps his mind occupied elsewhere, so you don't mind.

Moon cleans up after your mess and threatens you (in a friendly manner, of course. You think.) to go to bed at a proper time or he becomes rather aggitated.

Any attempts at using your phone underneath the covers will result in a small EMP attack that takes out your phone and the neighbor's Television. You know, because Gramps mentioned that her TV only seems to cut out around the same time every night and nothing he does seems to fix it until morning. Moon holds no remorse, obviously.

It's nice. Even if they're a little bit pushy about about it. Honesty, you think these acts are just remants of their care giving programming, the need to feel useful after everything that happened or just trying to busy themselves with the human they're invested in. Maybe a mix of all of those things, but that's to be unpacked later.

The exchange wasn't unequel either. You've learned more about robotics in the last 6 months than you'd ever expect to know, for sure, along with some other things. You're an adult, you can keep yourself alive just fine, but it's nice to have the extra support.

It does, however, get a touch on your nerves at times.

"Moon, c'mon, I'm like, so close to the end-" You make a lunge for the remote, and it's closer to you than it was before. The animatronic holding it over your head doesn't even blink as you make a grab for it again and your fingers only brush air. "Dude! The season finale came out today. It's literally the last couple of episodes!"

"Sit." Moon states plainly. "Kitchen table."

"I'll eat later. It's not like the fridge is going anywhere, Moon. C'mon. Everyone has seen it but me and I'm already getting spoilers on my feed. Just another episode? You two said you've watch it with me anyway."

Moon blinks dully at you, and stuffs the remote underneath his hat. "No."

"C'monnnnnn"

Fingers find your collar and hook underneath the fabric, and routinly, you are dragged away from your unhealthy habit of binging new series of media to attend to your oh-so-delicate human needs that are far too demanding for your liking. The Daycare Attendant has long become acustomed to your whining.

The dinner table chair because your metaphorical prison as Moon lightly pushes towards it, sitting with a slump and a over-the-top dramatic sigh as the animatronic walks through your kitchen. The lights are dimmed, but he still squints at the refridgerator lights that greets him when he opens the door. "What do you want."

You resist the urge to snatch his hat and run. "A robot that doesn't nanny me."

Red eyes and white pupils side eye you, and Moon pulls out a a few items. He speaks deadpan. "Cry about it."

"Maybe I will." You snark back. He makes a noise somewhat akin to a snort, and you pretend your pinching his head inbetween your fingers from across the room. You raise from your seat, resigining yourself to your fate and getting yourself a drink. It's a sugary soda (caffine free!) that Moon glances at but leaves be. Sun would have polietly recommended water by now.

It's almost a funny image: a tall, clown robot standing in front of your microwave in a t-shirt and slippers, just staring at the glass with mild dissassioance until the counter goes down. You duck, popping your head underneath his elbow and his arm raises to allow you. "So." You sip at your drink, and Moon makes a face above you. "What's on the menu, Starboy?"

"Leftovers." A pause. "That we made this morning."

Right. Sun must have made a meal set during the day for the opposite half to make for you at night. Clever bastard. "...Can I have the remote now?"

Moon, without looking at you, adjusts his hat to sit better on his head.

"Bitch."

"Sit." He shoos you to the table. "And sleep after this. It's late."

Very late, actaully. Around the wee hours of 1AM and half-past god knows what. You'd been so caught up in your favorite show that you just sorta forgot to do everything else for the day, so eating, showering, studying were all at the bottom of the list. Regaurdless, your TV called to you.

You heave a dramatic sigh, falling back onto the kitchen chair and resting your elbow on the table, cheek resting in your palm. "I can't believe you'd treat me like this after all we've been through. Denying me the simple pleasures in life, for shame."

The microwave counts down to single digits and Moon's fingers hover over the handle. You can't see his face from this angle, but a faint chuckle is in his tone. "Tragic."

"Ugh, how could you?" You sigh again, more dramatically this time, and even go as far as to place the back of your free hand against your forehead and calling back to all the cheesy soap operas you and Sun watch in your free time. "I feel soooo betrayed. When did you stop loving me?"

The microwave starts beeping and Moon's fingers lock onto the handle, and freeze.

A couple of beeps ring by. You hand lowers and you raise a brow at the animatronic's still form. You give him a moment, because sometimes the Daycare Attendant stalls sometimes, and you chalk it up to being a robot thing. But the beeping was starting to get annoying. "Hey, man. The food's done."

Another two seconds. His fingers move and pop the microwave door open. You can smell heated up veggies and broth from across the room. "Funny."

"Yep. I can be a jester too."

"One episode." Moon grabs your dinner with one hand, and pulls the remote out from under his hat with the other. "To eat your food with. Then sleep. You're lacking."

The smile on your face comes naturally, and you swipe the remote from his hands. "Yeah, sure. Like I'd let you boss me around anyways. Come lay with me on the couch and watch it with me. There's aliens in this episode."

#Solar Lunacy #honestly i might start posting these to A03 to keep them organized #writings #fnaf #fnaf moon #moon x reader #this is totally not self projecting with the reader btw no sir /j

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fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat · 1 year

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Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 2

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: You have this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of Steve's chest with words alone.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick (among other scarier pregnancy symptoms), language

Word Count: 3614

Previous Chapter! - Next Chapter!

My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!

Rain slammed against the window panes of the Harrington house like bullets. The cold seeped through the walls and ate straight through Steve’s pajamas, and the cup of coffee in his hands was doing little to remedy it. There was zero hint of sun in the sky, it seemed like there would be none all day, and Steve was really regretting coming out from under his covers.

Steve had only slept in his own house three times over the past two weeks; he’d made quite the home for himself on your couch, living out of a backpack of clothes he’d stuck in the corner of your living room. You had asked him not to leave you alone, and what kind of man would he be if he had said no to that? He probably wouldn’t even have been able to, anyway.

He didn’t know if he would be allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and he had been too afraid to ask.

While his father never really bothered to care where his son was, and his mother trusted him enough to let him do his own thing most of the time, he was still expected to show his face at home every once in a while. He’d been stuck with the closing shift last night (even though it was outside of his availability, so thanks for that, Keith), and he knew you’d be fast asleep by the time he made it back to your apartment. You’d called the store after you got home at the much more reasonable hour of six thirty. ‘I think I can live with being alone for tonight’ you’d told him. ‘I’ve got a paper to write, anyway.’

Fuck, Steve really needed a better job. Preferably one that paid him more and wasn’t open until eleven p.m. on a Thursday night.

You worked a big girl job at the Roane County Historical Society museum. You were just a secretary, but you had a salary, insurance, and all that other grown up stuff. Nine to five, four days a week, and they helped with your college tuition, too. Come May, you’d have a History degree and a teaching certification, and word on the street said Hawkins Middle was about to have a need for a new History teacher. Unlike him, you had the perfect five year plan laid out right in front of you.

Y’know, as long as Steve hadn’t ruined it for you.

By the time he woke up on Friday, his father was long gone. It was nearing one in the afternoon, and the big empty house felt extra big and extra empty today. Steve glanced out the window as he poured a second cup of coffee and saw the rain collecting in the bottom of the long-since drained pool in his backyard. A handful of stray leaves sat mixed with the rainwater, some stuck in a brown mass on the bottom, some floating lazily atop the puddle.

He was startled out of his trance by his mother’s voice and nearly dropped his full mug.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, heels clicking along the tiles. “Or, good afternoon, rather.”

Meredith Harrington was the opposite of her husband in more ways than anyone could count. She actually enjoyed spending time with her child, for one, but there had never been an angry bone in her body. She wasn’t immune to frustration, or worry, but it was never unfounded. Yet still, for every wild flame of rage that shot from her husband's mouth, she counteracted with calmness. Or, more accurately, quiet, fearful resignation. Her husband never put his hands on her or their son, but Steve could always tell that she had spent her whole marriage walking on eggshells, waiting for the terrifying moment that he did, as if it was a simple inevitability.

Steve loved his mom, but fuck, he wished she would just stand up for herself for once.

“God, Mom, you scared me,” Steve responded, leaning against the counter.

“I do live here, too, y’know,” she poked back with a smile. “When did you get so jumpy?”

If she ever found out the real answer to that question, she would probably never let her son out of her sight ever again.

“Haven’t seen much of you these last couple weeks,” his mother observed. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he insisted. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. She put the pocketbook she was holding down on the marble countertop of the island and crossed the room to lean against it, opposite her son. “I can tell, there’s far too much going on in that big head of your’s.”

Steve snorted at the well meaning insult.

“It’s nothing mom, I promise.”

“Come on now, you know I don’t buy that,” his mother asked with arms crossed. “Talk to me, kid.”

“I-I don’t know.” Steve was absolutely, in no way, ready to talk about any of what was going through his head, especially to his mom. ‘You might be a grandma come September’ wasn’t really something he could just drop in the middle of casual conversation.

“Is it a girl, maybe?”

Steve’s quiet was proof enough that his mother was, at least partially, right. She gave her son a knowing smile.

“Tell me it’s not Nancy again, right?” she asked. Meredith was generally a pretty forgiving woman, but Nancy had really broken her son’s heart. So, while she would always show nothing but kindness to the eldest of the Wheeler children, she didn’t have to like her.

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Steve assured. “That ship sailed a long, long time ago.”

“Good,” she replied. “Will I ever get to meet this mystery girl?”

Steve just shrugged, deciding it best to omit the fact that the “mystery girl” had lived across the street for eighteen years and swam in their pool every summer for a decade.

“You should invite her over for dinner some time,” his mother said. She leaned forward and pulled a piece of errant lint off of Steve’s shoulder with perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll roast a chicken. It’ll be nice.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken?” she parroted back. “What kind of person doesn’t eat chicken?”

“She’s a vegetarian, mom,” he explained.

“Ah,” his mom accepted. “Then I’ll make that broccoli cheddar casserole you like. You know, the one I make during Lent every year? Think she’d like that?”

“Yeah, I think she would.” Steve was trying his best to hide his smile, though he wasn’t doing it all that well.

“Alrighty.” She patted her son’s shoulder as she walked past him and gathered her purse. “Well, I have to go run some errands. You’re more than welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Right. You’re much too cool to tag along with mom to the grocery store. How could I have forgotten?”

“No! No, it’s not that, I-”

“I’m joking, Steve,” she assured with a smile. “Make sure that cup ends up in the dishwasher, okay? Not just in the sink.”

“Dishwasher. Got it.”

“I love you! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!”

With that, the heavy front door shut and Steve was plunged into the silence of deserted suburbia.

You were at work, he had the day off with no plans, and the idea of being at all productive sounded absolutely exhausting. He finished his coffee in two big gulps and decided the best way to spend the day would be to crawl right back into bed and wallow in his feelings.

Steve had, very much on purpose, kept most of his thoughts about your current situation to himself. Partially because every time you two did start talking about it, you ended up a slushy pile of tears in his arms. The other reason, though, the bigger reason, was that he was terrified that you would put all of your own wants and wishes to the side and do whatever he wanted you to. The concept of you having a baby you didn’t want just to appease him made him sick to his stomach.

His parents only got married because his mom ended up pregnant at nineteen, and having a baby out of wedlock in 1967 was a social sin of the highest order. So they planned a wedding in two weeks time (a small family affair, exclusively to save face and avoid the questions that arise with courthouse ceremonies), and moved into a big, fancy house so that everyone knew the Harringtons were a normal, run-of-the-mill, perfect American family. His father loved to point out all of the things he didn’t get to do all because Steve came along and got in the way, and his mother. . .

She loved him. He knew that. He also knew that she had to pack up her life to play house with a man she was always a little bit afraid of, all because of him. His father always resented him for it, but his mom never did. At the very least, she never told him she did.

The thought of doing to you what his father did to his mom absolutely fucking terrified him, but ‘terrified’ had been his baseline state of being pretty much constantly over the past two weeks.

Steve was no stranger to fear. He’d had extensive experience with the feeling; that sharp heaviness that settled itself behind his ribs and sucked every drop of oxygen out of his lungs. When it came at him hard and fast, that was when he could handle it best. This was not that. This fear was slow and achy, all-encompassing. It sealed itself onto his bones, like some sort of emotional slime. Like a fungus.

And, honestly, most of that fear was for you, not him. The worst thing that could happen to him was that he could end up being a shitty father, and while he would hate that more than pretty much anything in the entire world, it did sort of pale in comparison to your worst case scenario. You could die.

Yeah, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic, but you still could. It wasn’t all that far outside of the realm of possibility. You were already horribly sick, you had been for the past few weeks, and while you had been taking the constant nausea and incessant dizzy spells like a fuckin’ champ, it wasn’t like a positive attitude would be able to save you if you started hemorrhaging.

Steve really hoped, for your sake, that you had yet to go down this train of thought, but he knew you most likely had. As terrified for you as he was, he understood that you were probably feeling all of it tenfold.

And yet, behind all of that, he was having a very difficult time squashing that tiny inkling of reckless hope that had been planted in the back of his head. He was still a 21 year old dick-head who had zero business taking care of a baby, and he definitely wasn’t allowed to be excited about it. For, like, a million different reasons.

Eventually, he fell back into a heavy-limbed sleep, but was woken up however many hours later by the shrill ring of the phone. A bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was just passed six o’clock. His mother should be back by now, right? He let it ring.

A moment passed, and it rang once more. He debated for a moment if he even had the right to answer it anymore, but he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed and picked it up anyway.

“Harrington Residence,” he grumbled, hoping whoever was on the other side could tell how frustrated he was to be awake.

“Steve?” Your voice came through the line. It was strained, and he heard you trying your best to disguise the sobs coming from your throat. “It’s me.”

“Hey, woah, what’s going on? What happened?” he questioned, any annoyance gone.

“Are you able to come pick me up?” you stuttered out between sniffles. “I’m at work. I-I have a flat tire.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I can,” he said.

“Okay.”

“I’m on my way, alright? Five minutes, tops,” he told you. He had the earpiece of the phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder, and the cord was stretched as far as it could go to reach into his bedroom as he haphazardly swapped his flannel pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans.

“Thank you.” Another sob.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he insisted. “Hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

The rain had slowed back to a dismal drizzle that splashed into the puddles stretched across Steve’s driveway. The drive to the museum was usually short, but the evening rush (as if the barely-there Hawkins traffic could ever be called that) slowed him down just enough for it to be annoying. The museum had officially closed an hour ago, though stray patrons and evening administrative duties usually kept you back after hours.

Steve saw you shivering underneath the awning that hung over the front doors, comparable to a lost kitten stuck in a thunderstorm. The shoulders of your sweater were soaked through, and as Steve pulled into the parking lot and stopped his car, he could see the angry black rivers of runny mascara that dribbled down your face.

“What the hell are you doing waiting for me out here in the rain?” Steve asked as he jogged up to where you were standing. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Why aren’t you inside? It’s freezing.”

“That creepy research assistant is in there and I hate being in the same room as him when there’s nobody else around,” you choked out, syllables broken up by wracking sobs.

“Alec?” Steve asked, and you nodded. He pulled you tightly against him before adding, “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“Please don’t do that,” you squeaked.

“Let’s change your tire, huh?” Steve said, though he made no move to let you go. “Do you have the spare?”

“That-” your words were cut off by a pitiful sniffle. “That is the spare.”

“Of course it is,” Steve sighed, though he most certainly should not have, because it just spurred on more crying from you. “Hey, it’s alright. I can take you home and we can get a new tire on it in the morning, okay?”

“I just had a really bad day,” you wept into his shoulder.

“I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“I spilled the hottest tea in the universe all over my legs,” you croaked. Steve winced at the image.

“I’m sorry,” he said into the top of your head.

“And since it was so hot, I accidentally said ‘motherfucker’ in front of a tour group that consisted exclusively of second graders!” you added. Steve would have laughed at that if you weren’t so wildly upset. “And Creepy Alec was being creepy all day long-”

“My offer still stands.”

“And then I came out here and my fucking tire was fucking flat!” you exclaimed, punctuated by another bout of wailing, the kind that made your whole body shake and your voice stutter. Steve took it the best he could, petting the back of your head and holding you tight, wishing he could go into your brain and dig all of the bad bits out.

“Let me get you home, and we can get you into some dry clothes and deal with your car in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimpered.

Steve let you go, but when he went to pull you along to his car so the pair of you could leave, you stayed planted right where you were. You lifted your watery eyes to meet his, and he gazed at you from where he stood.

“Steve?” you quietly asked him.

“Yeah?” Steve responded. A silence fell between the two of you, though the lazy rain and evening downtown traffic poked holes through it.

“I wanna keep the baby.”

You had this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of his chest with only words alone.

“That-” came out of fucking nowhere, holy shit!, he didn’t add. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you muttered over a wobbly lip.

Steve was paralyzed. The soles of his shoes had been superglued to the pavement and his arms had been turned to stone. It was somehow both exactly what he did and did not want to hear all at the same time, because deep down in his gut he knew he wanted that too, but there was a laundry list of reasons why it was a bad idea, why it was irresponsible, why it was maybe everything he ever wanted, and-

“Steve, if you don’t want to do this, that's okay, but I need you to tell me. Now.” Your voice, shaky and full of fear and yet so, so determined, pulled him up and away from his thoughts once again.

“I do!” he exclaimed, maybe with a bit too much fervor. He regained his ability to move and closed the gap between the two of you in one wide step. “I do.”

You stood silent with your glassy eyes staring bullets into his.

“Look, I’m gonna start talking, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop, so if it gets to be too much, just shut me up, okay?” Steve said. He brought his hands up to grace your shoulders.

“What?” you questioned, confusion laced throughout your miserable expression.

Steve had spent the last three and a half years doing everything he could to drown out the sounds of his feelings for you, and Robin was right. It was destroying his brain.

“I’m really, really in love with you,” he said. “And I have been for a really, really long time. Since way before this, fuck, since before Starcourt, and I’m so fucking sorry for not having the guts to say it until now. I’m the universe’s biggest coward for that-”

“You are not a coward!”

“-And I know you deserve better, but for some reason that still eludes me, you’ve stuck with me through all the bullshit, anyway. You could’ve run away whenever you wanted to, you could’ve gone with your parents when they left, but you didn’t, and that has to mean something, right?”

“Steve,” you wept.

“I promise, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to do this with you, alright? Not a single fucking thing,” he assured you. “I meant what I said. Holding your hand the whole time.”

Steve took your trembling hand into his own, fingers fitting together like lock and key.

“If you’ll have me,” he added.

Your lips wobbled, you let out another shattered sob, and you kissed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Like you would drop dead right on the spot if not for his lips on yours. Steve kissed back, because he knew he would drop dead if he didn’t, and now he had tears to match your own.

“I’m really, really in love with you, too,” you blubbered after the pair of you pulled apart. You had a hand on either side of his face, fingers ghosting over the junction of his jawline and neck, and Steve had his wrapped delicately around each wrist.

“You really wanna do this?” Steve asked you. “You really mean it? You’re not just saying it?”

“I really mean it,” you said definitively. You were still very much crying, though you were infinitely less miserable than you had been five minutes ago. The pair of you stayed swaying in each other's arms, protecting each other from the cold.

“Good, because I really mean it, too,” he responded.

The thick, foggy haze of emotion was beginning to dwindle, and despite the warm bubble of affection the two of you had created, you were still standing out in the rain. And Steve was pretty sure he could see Creepy Alec spying on them through one of the second story windows.

“Let’s go home. I’ll make you dinner,” Steve murmured to you, and you nodded in agreement.

Steve drove you both back to your apartment and made a feast of plain scrambled eggs and buttered toast, because it was all your stomach could really handle right now. Turns out, he very much was allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and after he’d finished doing the dishes in the sink, he joined you under the pile of blankets that adorned your mattress. Your cat curled itself up at the end of the bed as you drew yourself into his side. He didn’t remember you being this cuddly, but it was a change he was more than happy to welcome.

After a few minutes, when he’d thought you had fallen asleep, your voice pierced through the quiet of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna be someone's dad,” you muttered into his pajamas. Fuck. He was, wasn’t he?

“You’re gonna be someone’s mom,” he shot back.

“Weird,” you responded. “I think you’ll be really good at it.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Definitely.”

And of course Steve was still fucking terrified. Terrified of the monsters, and of his dad, and of all the different ways this could go south, but he had you tucked up against his chest, and he was gonna be someone’s dad, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care about any of the scary stuff. In this moment, for the first time in as long as Steve could really remember, the underlying current of fear that ran along his thoughts was finally overpowered by just how much he fucking adored you.

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#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #joe keery #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things imagines #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x f!reader

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aurevell · 5 months

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❄won't mean a thing, dear (if you're not here with me) ❄ Steter | 34k | M

Stiles, who was just about to comment on the blinding glare from the Christmas lights, slowly shuts his mouth. Realization is dawning, and he feels like an idiot not to have seen it coming. “Surprise! Christmas isn’t your thing,” he guesses, resigned. Peter gives him a look like he’s insane to even bring it up. He probably is.

Peter and Stiles’s whole relationship is built on sarcasm and disdain for the world at large. No topic is safe from mockery. (Unfortunately, they may not be on the same page about the holiday season.)

Some days, Stiles is convinced Peter’s only dating him because the guy gets off on pushing buttons. That’s Peter’s main source of amusement. He knows Stiles is never more than a second away from some minor crime at any given moment, and he likes watching Stiles reconsider and bend his already flexible morals. Likes being the one to urge him on.

Some days, Stiles likes to let him.

Some days.

“Yeah, I dunno about this,” Stiles mutters dubiously, peering through the chain-link fence. When he grabs on, squinting for a closer look, the metal is icy against his skin. “It’s kind of a stretch, dude. Even for me.”

“What’s the harm?” Peter inquires, his tone even. Still, Stiles can hear the smirk without looking. “It’s just a peek. Sixty seconds.”

“Psh. Yeah, right. Sixty seconds now, until we actually get in there and look around.”

It’s late, maybe a little past one in the morning, and the two of them have been meandering a slow circuit through the neighborhood around Stiles’s apartment. Which, yeah, is kind of a weird or even suspicious thing to be doing at this hour, depending on who you ask. Dangerous, too, considering the area. But it’s safe enough when one of you is a literal creature of the night and the other knows his way around a curse book.

It’s also kind of a necessity. Late-night walks are sometimes the only thing that helps Stiles nod off when he’s got too many thoughts rattling around in his head. The rhythmic steps, or maybe the familiar neighborhood setting, always calms his nerves somehow. Or else it just burns off his restless energy. Stiles hasn’t psychoanalyzed himself or anything, but it does the trick.

As for Peter’s presence, that’s a semi-recent thing. He used to just pretend to get offended that the sex alone wasn’t enough to tick the right boxes and knock Stiles’s lights out. But it must have gotten boring sitting around indoors and waiting for him to come back, and the guy has never been one for pillow talk anyway, so he’s started tagging along. Plus, he likes fucking with evening joggers who don’t expect to find someone lurking around the corner in the dark. (See? He’s all about the amusement factor.)

Anyway. They’ve paused here by the fence because Stiles has been keeping an eye on this city block for months. Construction has rattled the ground and diverted local traffic forever. Gleaming in its wake is a new building, freshly raised: a mixed-use space, with apartments above and a couple shops at ground level. One of which, the signs promise, is a coffee shop. A coffee shop, and this cannot be emphasized enough, that is only one block away from where Stiles lives. It’s like some beneficent cosmic being decided Stiles Stilinski does deserve nice things, after all. Things like fresh coffee after an all-nighter. Wi-fi when his shitty router kicks out. Maybe even sandwiches and pastries and stuff—he’d sell his soul for decent bear claws within walking distance.

“You did say you wanted to see the inside,” Peter reminds him idly. The building’s been done for weeks, but the fence still blocks half the sidewalk, keeping pedestrians away from the new facade. Even to Stiles’s human nose, the whole area smells pleasantly of sawdust and fresh paint.

“Yeah, but c’mon. I meant when it was finally open. And anyway, can see it fine from here,” Stiles retorts, and it’s kind of true: with the glow of the streetlight behind them, he can make out the gleam of new machinery and the dark shadows of tables and chairs. “Hey. Look, they even have folding windows. For when it’s nice out.”

“Those are nice.” Peter observes. “Easy to break into.”

Stiles tries his best to fight back a grin, because you can’t encourage Peter at times like this. Give him an inch, he’ll take a mile. “Ok, babe, just so we’re clear. We are not breaking—”

“—into your new favorite coffee shop, which you haven’t shut up about for more than five minutes at a time in weeks? I’d think twice about passing on the opportunity. Once they’ve set up their security system, it won’t be as easy.” He hums, as if a thought has just occurred to him. “You know, they probably have all kinds of decor in there. For your sign collection.”

There are a bunch of dark shapes spread out on the walls, some kind of decorations. A few large ones that are probably just menus or something, but smaller ones too. Could be signs, could be art. “I don’t have a—it’s not a collection.”

“It’s eleven signs. What’s that you always say? Two’s a coincidence, three’s a pattern? ‘Eleven’ is probably a collection.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Stiles laughs.

The squeal of bending metal cuts through the quiet. Stiles drags his eyes away from the cafe windows to find Peter peeling up the bottom of the chain link fence, all casual, like it weighs no more than a sheet of paper.

Peter smirks. “It’d be a crime not to.”

“Peter,” Stiles replies, amused, “this is a crime. This is a literal crime.”

“I bet they have those deluxe espresso machines you get so hard for.”

Stiles heaves out a long-suffering sigh, taking in those dark shapes through the window, and pretends to still be thinking about it. He briefly glances around, like anyone else is crazy enough to be out in the cold this time of night, like Peter wouldn’t hear anyone within earshot anyway. Peter lifts the chain-link fence a little higher. An invitation. The same way some boyfriends might hold open a door.

“Alright, fine,” he mutters under his breath. He ignores Peter’s triumphant smirk as he ducks beneath the fence. “Sixty seconds.”

A week and a half later, Cuppa Life Cafe opens to very little fanfare. It’s just a tiny cafe on a tiny street in a tiny town—who cares? But to Stiles, it’s revolutionary.

It’s a shiny new distraction to break up his days. When he’s doing research for his magical consulting clients, when he’s combing through digitized bestiaries for Scott, when he’s delving into police files he one hundred percent did not swipe from his dad, he’s got somewhere to go. No more is he confined to slogging away within the four walls of his cramped and arguably dim apartment (he likes the vibe of his scattered ritual candles, but they don’t always do the trick for him, focus-wise). When he needs a change of pace, he can head downstairs for a three-minute walk to sugar and caffeination and sunlight.

And then there’s Peter, who’s trekked here four times already for dark roast coffees he continually claims are beneath him. Either he’s full of it, or he knows Stiles is more likely to peel away from his work if Peter’s within easy walking distance as well.

Presently, Stiles’s phone chimes with a text from a contact listed as Big Bad Creeperwolf, a label he hasn’t changed since their first meeting. (Anyway, it’s still accurate.) When Stiles checks his messages, there’s a snapshot of the Cuppa Life menu and a text that just reads, Unfortunate.

Stiles stares, squinting and wondering what Peter’s point is, but he can’t work it out. He could text back, or he could grab his current working bestiary from the bed and go around the corner to figure it out.

The place really is cute. They’re clearly going for that modern chic look, with chalkboard menus, lighted glass cases full of Instagram-ready pastries, and graphic art peppered across warm, red-bricked walls. At a glance, you wouldn’t know anything’s missing at all. Stiles only feels a little guilty about nicking his latest sign, inasmuch as he ever feels guilty about nicking anything (and then, you know, returning to the scene of the crime afterward). Look, the display was probably a free one the coffee brand shipped to the cafe as an ad. And Stiles is a regular customer now, and he always tips well, so it’ll probably even out in the end.

Peter’s snagged a table toward the front, right where the late fall sunlight streams in. It’s just barely warm enough that all the windows are folded to the side—they really are a nice touch, even if Peter’s right that they’re easy to sneak through—and when he spots Stiles walking past outside, he glances up with a knowing smirk. Because of course Stiles was going to jump up to visit. Annoying, Stiles thinks, how that one look sends a coil of pleasure into his stomach every time.

“That wasn’t an invitation to drop by,” Peter drawls, typing into his laptop, when Stiles appears at his table.

“Then you shouldn’t have announced your location, babe,” Stiles counters, dumping his book. The pet name slips off his tongue without thought again: he started using it ironically a few weeks back, almost taunting, just to dig at Peter for his condescending little “sweethearts” all the time, and now…

Peter smirks at the face he’s making. “Can’t stop it, can you? Cute.”

“Shut up,” Stiles says without bite. He sinks into the opposite chair, his attention catching on the little cardboard table menu. It’s done up in red, with glittering holly leaves, to cheerily advertise the seasonal specials. “About time! Peppermint hot chocolate?”

“Didn’t you see my text? We’ve gone from pumpkin spice to peppermint season,” Peter informs him, voice dripping with disdain. “It’s all Laura’s been complaining about for days.”

“Is that why you sent it?” Stiles asks distractedly, flipping the menu to check the drinks on the back. “And—wait, what are you even talking about? Peppermint’s the best.”

It’s all the good stuff, he finds: butterscotch caramel coffees, peppermint mochas, gingerbread spice cold brews, s’mores lattes. Man, this place does not disappoint. Stiles must have accidentally done a good deed to deserve it, but hell if he knows what it was.

It’s not until he lowers the menu that he sees Peter’s dismay. Too late, he picks up on the haughty tone, which is Peter’s default whenever they parry insults or dogpile on something they mutually believe to be garbage.

“Is that a joke?” Peter demands. “Peppermint is nature’s mildest poison. Who wants to eat something whose primary flavor is ‘cold?’ The whole place reeks of it now—even you should be able to smell it with that chunk of marble you call a nose. We’re going to have to avoid every cafe in town for the next two months.”

Stiles shakes his head, amused. “Every now and then, I feel really grateful I don’t have all your wolf stuff going on. There are definite downsides to super sniffers. But you’re right about pumpkin spice, I guess—that stuff’s a travesty. RIP to Laura and all the pumpkin spice girls probably crying into their scarves as we speak.”

“You’re a witch, and fall's barely over. Are you even allowed to voice a dislike of pumpkin spice?”

“I’m a spark and you know this. And yeah, I guess they’ll probably revoke my card,” Stiles jokes.

With his stuff now scattered across the table, he heads off to the counter, deliberating over his drink choices. He ends up going with the peppermint mocha, partly because he does, in fact, really love peppermint and needs to carpe diem the fuck out of it while it’s still in season, and partly because he knows it’ll annoy Peter.

Once he grabs his order and gets back to his seat, he takes his first taste while making pointed eye contact with the werewolf. Unfortunately, Peter’s crinkled nose just makes Stiles snort into the drink, and he ends up choking on a puff of whipped cream for his trouble.

“Lovely that I’m only learning now that you enjoy drinking toothpaste,” Peter snarks. He looks almost disgusted, but he’s still wearing the delighted smirk that means he’s back in his element. “What other dealbreakers don’t I know about you?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Stiles coughs, still laughing a little. “Out of all the shit I’ve done, peppermint’s the dealbreaker?”

“I already know about the live theater thing. The—musicals.”

“What, that I’ve witnessed some without fleeing the theater?” Stiles asks, covering his grin with a sip of his drink. It really is good, with just enough peppermint to boost the chocolatey taste of the mocha without being overpowering. “I stand by Heathers, my dude. J.D. is hot. I won’t apologize for that.”

“Sickening. What else do I need to know? Do you put motivational quotes in your email signature? Do you unironically follow astrology? If you’re a secret cryptobro, you’d better tell me before this goes any further.”

Stiles snickers into his drink. “No to all of the above. But if either of us was gonna turn into some condescending asshole trying to peddle something skeevy, it’d probably be you.”

“Excuse you.”

“Speaking of dealbreakers. Met this cute guy earlier today.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Did you now.”

“You’d better watch out.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Fat. Tan.”

“Tabby?”

“Maybe, but the fur was pretty long. I took pictures. Wanna see?”

He’s grinning: it’s a bluff, of course, and they both know it. Peter just grunts. There are few things the werewolf finds more boring than pictures of small animals. He’s insane that way. Like he would honestly rather pry his own eyes out than witness a cute cat displaying its belly for scratches. Stiles doesn’t even know what to do with him sometimes.

“Keep your beaus to yourself,” Peter replies, returning to his book.

“Your loss.” Stiles pulls his laptop to him, booting it up. “By the way, did I tell you Pudding’s rash is gone? Saw her this morning.”

“If I have to hear another word about cats,” Peter sighs, “and especially a cat’s skin condition, I’ll swear to god I’ll find a way to get you banned from this cafe.”

Stiles mimes zipping his lips and gets back to work, though Peter looks at him with distrust for a full minute before he resumes reading. But while Stiles does sometimes get a perverse sense of enjoyment from Peter’s poor attempts to feign interest in his interests, he’s got shit to do today. Peter’s off the hook. For now.

Harassment has always been one of Stiles’s love languages. At least when it comes to Peter.

The feeling is clearly mutual, though. And Stiles knows Peter well enough to tell he isn’t the type of guy who’d stick around if he were actually offended.

They’ve come a long way since their first meeting, the first formal introduction of their respective packs. Back then, they were all circling each other warily, a prospective alliance built on contract negotiations and polite adherence to ceremony.

Everyone except for Peter. Peter was an immensely egotistical shit the entire time—not that he did or said anything outright insulting, anything to make the McCall pack cut their losses and back out, just things that were right on the cusp. Snarky insinuations. Snubs. He clearly thought them an insignificant pack of amateur shifters, and bitten wolves at that, a term he used with this pitying tone that suggested he wanted to turn up his nose but wouldn’t for propriety’s sake. It rubbed Scott and Isaac the wrong way right off the bat, and even Kira got sour about it. And Kira believes in peace and forgiveness and pixie dust for literally everyone.

Maybe Stiles only found it so funny because he knew how wildly wrong Peter was about them. The McCall pack, after all, is a bad enemy to underestimate and a good ally to have in your back pocket.

And then, somewhere amidst the getting-to-know-yous and the haughty diplomacy, it became clear that sure, Peter may have been sneering and abrasive, but he backed a lot of the same things Stiles championed: an aggressive defense, strong tendencies toward revenge where appropriate, doling out the harshest possible punishments against offending packs. His mean streak, in fact, aligned very neatly with Stiles’s.

For half the alliance negotiations, Stiles found himself arguing beside Peter, who looked delighted at the unexpected support, especially when it was just the two of them against ultra-forgiving alphas who indulged their reasoning but came down firmly on the side of living and letting go and other bullshit.

“Fine,” Peter had said when it was all done. All pleasant and smirking, of course, because he’s always refused to show weakness after a loss. “Well, I’m sure none of us will ever regret this.”

Talia just rolled her eyes with the exasperation of someone who’d borne this kind of barbed statement all her life. And Peter turned and gave Stiles this meaningful look, the first of many designed to invite his judgment as well, as if to say Can you believe this? You and I are the only ones who truly understand.

Stiles was a little bit in love. Even then.

After they all dispersed for friendlier conversation, Stiles sidled up to him, phone held out imperiously. “Give me your number.” At Peter’s raised eyebrow, he added, “Don’t tell me you don’t want the backup. My alpha wasn’t the only one who said the words ‘minor territory breach’ like it’s not an oxymoron.”

It was hard to disagree. And Stiles wasn’t misreading the exasperation: by the time Peter finished entering his contact info, the werewolf had already begun to complain of all the extra work he often put in just for his own peace of mind given Talia’s relaxed policies. There were no known hunters or magical threats in the area—a feat only accomplished because of strict border enforcement, thanks very much—and the Hales were diligent about maintaining alliances with several nearby packs. But you never really knew. The Hale library, Peter added, was brimming with insights on defenses and known threats for that very reason.

Stiles perked up at the magic word. “A private library, huh? So…we’re officially allies now, right? When do I see it?”

Peter’s grin turned sly.

The attraction was clear as day. Even Stiles could read it, and most people’s flirtations went right over his head. Regardless, both of them were reluctant to make a move right away, both of them aware how disastrous the fallout could get for their respective packs if things went south between them. Or at least Stiles was aware of it, and Peter—perennial schemer that he is—must have at least considered it.

But maybe it was inevitable.

On a totally normal day, Stiles showed up uninvited at Peter’s, just to annoy him into loaning out a bestiary, and then they were just—on top of each other. It was the first and only time Stiles understood what people meant when they said they had sex by accident, a phrase he used to think was a stupid excuse people used for not bothering to control their own impulses, but holy shit, it was like someone just flipped a switch: one second they were staring, and the next second Peter’s tongue was down Stiles’s throat and Stiles was so fucking turned on that he was trying to climb him like a tree about it. He could not stop, could not stop for anything, like the only way out was forward, and forward meant tasting every inch of Peter’s skin.

The sex was amazing. Stiles was fucking wrecked. And of course when they came down, they said they should probably not do it again, absolutely never, because of pack reasons. And that they probably should not even mention it to anyone.

But those turned out to be more impulses they couldn’t rein in.

They became a thing. Somehow.

God knows they still rub each other the wrong way: Stiles is and always will be an annoying little shit, and Peter keeps making condescending offers to help broaden the tiny McCall pack—the implication being, again, that they aren’t perfectly fine as they are.

But somewhere along the way, Stiles has realized that all Peter’s stupid negging and random hints about his current location might be construed—if you looked at them through your dealing-with-a-manipulative-prick lens—as indirect attempts to coax Stiles into spending time with him. They’re the efforts of someone who has never bothered to invite anyone anywhere, and isn’t any good at it, and doesn’t even know how to do it without trying to manipulate the person in question into wanting it.

And now? Well. Peter’s never been one for grand, romantic gestures—he’s allergic—but it’s turned out okay. Do they have a relationship the average onlooker would describe as “normal” or “tender” or even “level-headed”? Hell no. But Stiles feels more comfortable with Peter than he does with just about anyone, and it’s clear Peter feels the same, and that’s enough.

Even now, the silence stretching between them is warm and companionable, with Stiles’s books and notes covering more than his fair share of the little table, and one of Peter’s legs stretched out beneath it to lean against Stiles’s, and the occasional question swapped between them to punctuate the calm.

A while later, after Stiles finishes the peppermint mocha and finds his limbs stiff, he stretches and returns to the front counter. When he comes back, he’s got a plain black coffee to replace Peter’s empty cup and, because he sometimes decides to be a just and merciful boyfriend, one of the gingerbread cold brews for himself instead of the peppermint.

That’s the kind of thing you end up doing when you get a little too invested. Not that Stiles would say it aloud.

Read the rest on AO3

#steter #steter fic #warning in advance that i will be having a little too much fun with this one #this is probably where i will be outing myself as a Christmas Freak #mine

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medicallymercury · 4 months

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Tinderbox (30/12/23)

I did end up waking up super early (on accident) and watching this episode but I decided not to post my review until after it had been on TV. I've really got to start getting into writing my essays now cause I have less than two weeks even with the deadline extension but I can manage to spend 12 straight hours thinking about writing it (rotating Casualty in my microwave brain) and not even realise I've done it until my mum's alarm goes off.

Well, it was an episode, wasn't it? Sometimes Casualty gives us masterpieces of television (cough Switzerland) and sometimes Casualty gives us "what the fuck was that?" (cough Too Much, Too Young - that was a very mixed Saturday) and Tinderbox was, at least for me, pretty much in the middle. I guess I wasn't as invested as I could've been cause there wasn’t much of my faves, I'd probably be more positive if we had more of them.

Pretty busy and all over the place episode but that’s to be expected at the start of a miniseries, I guess.

Stevie my beloved, she was great in this one. Elinor Lawless is very talented!! This has got me looking forward to her own storyline even more.

I know Ryan was unpopular but I loved him as a problematic little bitch character. Shows like this sometimes need a Ryan to cause problems for everyone and he served his purpose. Like, he is terrible but it was amusing to have a terrible member of the predominantly very sweet baby nurse quartet. I’ll miss him, honestly. I don’t imagine he’ll come back since there’s a new new (I still think of the baby nurses as new) nurse joining next week.

I made this last night, he didn’t actually die but I still think it’s funny:

I really liked that final shot of Jodie, Rida and Cam together but, to quote my mum as it happened, “I feel like all three of them have wanted Ryan to get beaten up at least once before”.

I love a good family storyline, especially when the family has multiple members in the main cast cause I think it allows for more development of the relationship (gestures wildly at Jan and Teddy), and Max and Jodie were great today. Loved all their interactions. Especially loved their conversation about Max’s kidney failure and especially “I wouldn’t allow it, even if you wanted to.” “Which I don’t.” “Well at least we agree on one thing” and “I’m sorry I’m not what you expected” (!!!!!!!!!!). I think they’re more similar than either of them realises, and I love that kind of dynamic - in both my ‘main fandoms’ my favourite characters are girls whose relationships with their fathers could be described as “I’m nothing like my dad (I’m just acting exactly like him)”. There’s definitely examples of that in this episode but back in Driving Force I remember a scene where Dylan tells them that neither of them should be treating Max’s mum and they both stand there looking at him with the same expression.

I expected that knowing the Teddy infidelity arc will happen would affect how I watch the show and when Paige and Jodie were treating the same patient I was 👁️👁️ the whole time. Whatever, I’ll get over it (hhhhhhh).

Sah was in this but so barely that the credits didn’t actually include Arin, which is weird to me.

I will say I think Casualty has been on weird pacing recently. I’d blame the miniseries format but it feels like there has been some storylines that are too long-running without saying anything new (FAITH) and other ones that get dropped too quickly without enough time to actually go into the ideas they implied were happening.

I think it was a good start to the new series but I would’ve liked them to cut the Faith stuff and have something actually happening with the paramedics instead.

Yes, I know complaining about Faith is beating a dead horse. However, in continuing to write her and this storyline, the writers have invented a dead horse beating machine to keep beating the dead horse perpetually. It goes on endlessly and has absolutely nothing new to say. And while some storylines have been getting these rushed and incomplete conclusions, Casualty had an opportunity to give the Faith storyline a conclusion with her going to rehab and staying there and then they didn’t. Tired of it. Also, not to be mean to the presumably overwhelmed Holby HR department but why would they ask Faith of Drug Theft Fame to come back??? This is why your hospital is like this, your hiring practices are terrible.

#cas ep: tinderbox #bbc casualty #casualty #shoelace fandom #stevie nash #ryan firth #jodie whyte #max cristie #eh vaguely:#teddy gowan #sah brockner #paige allcott #as always #anti faith cadogan

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violetstormms · 2 months

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DCA x Reader Random Recommendations Post 1

Welcome to the random recommendation corner. Here fics are recommended that sounded interesting but I have not gotten the chance to check out yet. This means that besides the description I have no idea what they contain so pay extra attention to tags and read at your own discretion. Some may eventually make it onto the regular recommendation list as this is essentially my “to read” list. If you are curious about the symbols before the fics you can check out the pined post for an explanation. This will be the same message before every post so you can just skip to read more if you have read this once.

(Since this is post 1 it will probably be a lot longer than future recommendations as there are many fics to get to)

+Overshadowed by skitterplant

archiveofourown.org/works/52145545/chapters/131892796

Having learned of a streak of dissapearances plaguing the areas neighboring the Pizzaplex, Sun desperately tries to prevent more kids from going missing by any and all means necessary. Even if a highly suspicious "staff" woman, the one that's been stalking his children for weeks, must get lost instead.

Unluckily for him, Management seems uncharacteristically protective that person. Left with no other options, Sun uses the most powerful instrument at his disposal — a half-baked Moon AI. A tool that was supposed to get rid of his problem, and do it quickly. Was supposed to do it efficiently. Was supposed to do it cleanly.

What it wasn't supposed to do was wake up.

+If you'll be my star / I'll be your sky by Kamuucab

archiveofourown.org/works/36594289/chapters/91273864

You can hide underneath me and come out at night

When I turn jet black and you show off your light

I live to let you shine...

Burnout sucks, man.

While taking time off from getting your degree after a pretty disastrous exam season, an off-the-cuff request leads you into the walls of the huge and colourful Pizzaplex. After an encounter with an intriguing jester, circumstance leads to a newfound job and entangles you within the sticky web of the mysterious and infamous company that is Fazbear Entertainment Inc.

Also, you befriend two clowns. Eventually. Turns out when you mix advanced AI with childcare things get a little weird.

Fazbear Inc: I have made a daycare supervisor

You: you fucked up a perfectly good robot is what you did. Look at it. It's got anxiety.

+Two Choices by Maelstrome

archiveofourown.org/works/43132227/chapters/108398172

You chose this.

There was regret of course, but turning back wasn't an option anymore. You couldn't lose this new game you found yourself in, and somehow you managed to feel more and more alive the longer you played...

You have worked in sanitation since the pizzaplex opened, but that all changed when you had a bit of a mishap in the kitchen. With the only real option left being an assistant in the daycare, you decided it couldn't be worse that your previous position.

Between the surly daycare attendant, bosses breathing down your neck and the corporate overlords coming for a visit, your starting to think you make really shitty life choices.

-Abandoned Yet Alive by Be_NotAfraid

archiveofourown.org/works/51888442/chapters/131200477

This is SO CLOSE to being a self-indulging fic but yk. I'm holding out here.

You like exploring. A lot, actually. Seeing the plant life reclaiming buildings, cars, and all that stuff is just amazing. Of course, you do come across a few oddities along the way. But that's what everyone expects! What you don't expect, however, is not one, not two, but four animatronics. One of them even seems to work, still. Maybe you could get the others up and running? Just a maybe. You didn't delve into robotics for nothing, after all. This just isn't exactly where you expected to use it.

`Kill the Lights by hahskeleton

archiveofourown.org/works/52911100/chapters/133839028

When you moved to the big city of Evergrove after college, assuming you’d find a suitable career for yourself but end up working at a lowly 24-hour coffee shop, you don’t expect your life to take a wild turn when you come across a movie, short on actors.

At least you’ve made a few new friends despite not having any before, right?

Wrong. Something you never could have imagined is circling Afton Movie Studios, and one lonely day after a scene shooting could change the course of your future, and the studio’s unforeseeable demise.

`Pluck my Heartstrings by Nekomiko and Wandering_Leprechaun

archiveofourown.org/works/52834789/chapters/133640092

Fazbear Entertainment LLC decided to purchase and buy out a rival (but less successful franchise); Medieval Times. It has now been officially announced that the first Fazbear Medieval Times is due to open in early 2035, according to sources.

___________

You're a classically trained vocalist and FazCo offers you a job to perform as their new Regent character, under the condition that no one finds out that the Princess animatronic is really being puppeteered by you. But your Royal Jesters are really distracting with all their weird flirting. Moon only seems to flirt with you when you're out of costume, while Sun can't get enough of you while you're in costume. Working in Castle Faz is weird.

A love triangle of mistaken identity and bonding over a love of performance. And robots, of course.

Jester!Sun/Moon x Vocalist!Reader (SFW)

updates Fridays

+Tokens by VoidSupernovae

archiveofourown.org/works/43201384/chapters/108582367

Tokens were something that was very prevalent to you growing up.

They are the first thing your parents use to teach you about monetary value. They are the gifts that you receive unexpectedly from the people you love. They are offerings of affection for the people you care about.

Token are everywhere in different sizes and shapes.

And although adulthood has faded some of the significance around them, you can't help but recognize when they fill your life again.

*Latest and Greatest by TheHomophobe

archiveofourown.org/works/53474080/chapters/135348469

Years ago, humans were overthrown by an invasive alien species known as the Raptures. We headed underground and created a new home called the PLEX. During our new life, we created a set of equipped robots known as the Final Nation Android Fighters, which are built to protect the remaining citizens of the plex and fend off the raptures on the surface.

You are the newest commander and were given the offer of testing the newest version of the F.N.A.F, version 7, the Glamrocks.

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

AKA a FNAF SB au inspired by NIKKE: GODDESS OF VICTORY

`Love, Death and Rollerskates by Spadillelicious

archiveofourown.org/works/50709166/chapters/128098096

After moving to Crescent City in the 80s, you pick up a job at the local roller rink Party Planet. Ironic, considering roller skating is definitely not one of your talents.

On the bright side, you get to work with the friendly Sun. On the other hand, you also have to interact with the gruff janitor and security guard Moon on a daily basis.

But when staying after hours one day, despite being strictly instructed not to, you find out a terrible secret that changes everything you knew about Sun, Moon and Crescent City forever.

*A Love Most Monstrous by StarvingMe

archiveofourown.org/works/53370430/chapters/135076891

Alternative title: What Has A Varying Number of Limbs And Misses You Terribly?

You're sent to fill in for another scientist one day for a pair of recent additions. What's the worst that could happen?

*Earth-Movers by CapriccioFarce

archiveofourown.org/works/53599036/chapters/135677824

You were boring, and you liked it that way. Yet when three immortal dimension travelers stumble their way into your life, you find out that you too can travel dimensions. Now, excitement has entered your life, and you must adapt with the tide or else you'll get swept away.

`Rising Stars and Celestial Bodies by Laurzzz

archiveofourown.org/works/52294807/chapters/132288019

Your attention snaps back to the silence of the man that called you to his office so early in the morning. He sits there, giving you an indispensably formal expression.

He’s always so hard to read, and that irks you.

“What is this?”, you ask dryly, raising an unamused eyebrow at your stuffy boss. The bright sunlight shining in through the massive window to your right only fuels your irritation.

“Details for the tentatively temporary partnership with FazEnt.”, his voice drizzles slowly. “More specifically, in regards to the Celestial Twins.”

`Shooting for the Sun by SourTomato

archiveofourown.org/works/43264908/chapters/108748113

Owning a gun shop, you've met your fair share of A-holes. Your first animatronic customers come in and catch your attention. Why do they keep talking to you like you've met before?

`(love is) a seed that grows by starboundpix

archiveofourown.org/works/52658560/chapters/133197724

You just want a regular scarecrow, not whatever this shiny metal scarecrow-esque thing is. Too bad your aunt didn't get the memo.

(a mini series depicting the life of a farmer who is sent a top of the line farm helper animatronic.)

`Aquatic Animatronics by AmethystApple

archiveofourown.org/works/53493703/chapters/135399952

You got a job at Fazbears very first Waterpark!! Yippie! It’s just a water job with robots how bad can it be

*Shooting Stars by AmethystApple

archiveofourown.org/works/53493439/chapters/135399349

Reborn into a new world, Sun and Moon now have to adapt to the new rules and systems in the environment, that they’re no longer inhabited humans. It’s strange for these sheltered animatronics to be pushed into the real world, completely different from what they had known previously as a daycare attendant. Especially when they now have their separate bodies. They aim to simply survive and stick together, but a new interest causes their world to turn.

Being born into the organization's biggest lab for humans, you are raised to become a performer for the enjoyment of others. Singing songs, playing music, dancing, it was never forced on you, the staff just realized how much potential you had. And you readily accepted your role, optimistic. When two animatronics enter your life, it gets all too exciting, even when they attempt to shake you off you all manage to meet again and again.

`Dealer's Choice by Certified_Handler

archiveofourown.org/works/41631765/chapters/104426508

1960s; William Afton runs the most state of the art casino on the Las Vegas strip employing a predominantly animatronic staff that draws in a lot of... interesting clientele. And YOU, you lovely thing, have just gotten a job as the bartender in the VIP lounge where the most unsavory characters you come across happen to be Mr. Afton's most distinguished guests. Thankfully you seem to have stumbled your way into the good graces of the blackjack dealer and the head of security.

These will be a series of tiny, bite-sized ficlets taking place in this Alternate Universe

-Ashes Make Good Fertilizer by BuzzyBee3

archiveofourown.org/works/53445730/chapters/135275146

It's been your dream to own a greenhouse since you can remember. Currently living in a small town known as Doland Springs in Arizona, you are currently on your way to making this dream a reality. You just don't realize that your life is about to change because of a certain daycare attendant, who is about to make a surprise appearance in your life after the horrific fire at the Mega Pizza Plex.

~The Future Stares Back by vivisols

archiveofourown.org/works/52742515/chapters/133400584

After a meteor strikes the Earth and a large chunk of the population gets wiped out, the remaining humans undergo rapid evolution in order to survive rising sea levels and much harsher temperatures. Decades later, the daycare attendant wakes up from an emergency shutdown. Desperate to navigate the new world and find a sense of purpose after everything they've ever known was ripped away from them, Sun and Moon eventually stumble upon one of these evolved humans.

You. A mer on land and very far from home.

With no way of understanding each other, the three of you now have to work together to survive.

*From the City that Hates You by Times30

archiveofourown.org/works/48696412/chapters/122837956

It's truly amazing that you got this far. Lies, broken promises, corruption, greed, scorned advances and three bots forced into a city that hated them from the moment they existed. What happens when their dark dealing reach your ears and your own hidden past comes to light?

Hitmen Sun & Moon & 80T x Cyberpunk Future Y/N (SFW)

-Twisted Metal by KingAggressive

archiveofourown.org/works/52732204/chapters/133375747

You're an automotive mechanic repositioned to work on a sentient animatronic after the well-known Fazbear Co. first got hands on the ruined animatronics of their former enterprise. Do you have any idea how any of this works? Nope. Are you willing to try because a specific two-faced robot made you feel sympathy for a piece of metal? Yes.

It may only be a paycheck to you, but its a lifetime to them.

`Tools, Oil, Blood, Sweat by DepthoftheVoidnest

archiveofourown.org/works/53786599/chapters/136142272

As a little mechanic in a world of smog and smoke, things can be hard. Corruption ran thick, gangs and mafia ruled the city, and kindness ran thin. Luckily your little shop was there for those in need, no matter the problem you wasn't afraid of a little pain to get something fixed. Hands in hot oil? No problem. Deep bites from a fearful animatronic? No problem. This little back alley shop was a breath of fresh air for many tin-cans who was in need for a little oil, and eventually problems come stumbling in you just cant get rid of. That is, if you even wanted to?

Ill add more tags later down the line <3

~Ocean Symphony Fiasco by Melanierana

archiveofourown.org/works/47178157/chapters/118868140

You're a surfer but due to some unlucky circumstances you have to sit out for a couple of days. So you go to a zoo where you meet an interesting creature.

TW: reader get insulted by teenagers, swearing and mention of blood

starting out good.

#moon x reader #sun x reader #dca x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #violetstormm fic list updates #daycare attendant x reader #Violetstormm random recommendation corner

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fluffyotters · 21 days

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I love Them Both

I love them both but I actually personally like Bucchigiri?! more than Delicious in Dungeon as a show and to watch. I'm going to miss getting new episodes every week. I'm not expecting a season 2 most likely given the mixed reviews but I could hope for one or some ova would be nice. I really do like Delicious in Dungeon and Laios is my other boy and is structurally better written and paced (because it has a source manga) but Bucchigiri is in my wack genre of hard to describe awesomeness like Jojo's Bizarre Adventures (though not as bizarre as that) magic, fighting, friendship, flamboyant gay love except even more, stand users?! (lol Senya and Ichiya are close to stands). And even though Arajin is controversial understandably so (llike I'm not a huge fan of him either and gah I wanted him to be punched too) he actually goes oh I see why he's the main because the other real main Matakara if you focus on him would...well let's just say shock people. But Matakara I love and adore and Marito is wild and Senya I love and even though Arajin does suck he actually does have his moments and the end wow. And I fully applaud the guts of being outside the box of main character and fully going with it being certainly not the best, and cringefail, and not a power fantasy (except in his own mind) and yet well parallels well with the other emotional heart Matakara (which isn't obvious at first but once things start happening then it's going to be...)

And the opening and ending of Bucchigiri are bangers. (I love the new S2 of Delicious in Dungeon too almost as good as those, but meh on S1s) And boy do I love Laios and Matakara and Laios is also a fave and extremely popular with good reason and oh I am ready to see Kabru now too hah. Manga out of context images and fanworks got me primed to see him too that I was honestly shocked he barely made an appearance S1 so I had that weigh on me. And Laios is a fascinating goof odd goodboy and I love him and the food looks so good after (and probably is) but it is ultimately mainly a comedy cooking show outside of the opening of his sister Fallin getting eaten and going after the dragon (I know the other actual serious, ethical, and dark stuff oncoming later) but most of it other than that was a meander 10 episodes of cooking (and horror, I'm more Marceille a picky eater and just utterly horrified at some of Laio's tastes at the thought of eating some though) before finally back to action Buchhigiri just appeals to me more as a fight, bromance, gay, friendship, powerr of love, Jojo bizarre light, magic Genies, comedy and surprise genre swerve oh there's the plot and kick to the face the latter half of screaming awesomeness.

#Bucchigiri #delicious in dungeon #I love both #But I actually liked Bucchigiri more #Though Matakara and Laios are both my favorite boys #Jojos Bizarre adventures

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russian-soft-bitch · 8 months

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Robert Langdon general dating HCs

Robert Langdon x fem!reader Author's note: i got this request in like january, @rae-and-mezo i'm terribly sorry it took so long, but i guess we all had those bad times when work is extremely draining Author's note #2: i kind of mixed all the versions of him in my mind, so it probably won't be accurate Requested: yes

i feel like in order to really build a relationship with this man, you have to work in an academic field, not necessarily in his area, but something close (probably the history of art)

it took him a lot of time and building up courage to ask you out on a date, 'cause you had this aura around you that told men not to mess with you; you were, after all, a smart woman. Smarter than a lot of other professionals at Harvard, in Robert's opinion

since the early stages of your relationship, he always tried to ask for your opinion on things, even consulting with you about bits of his book. that alone was something you never experienced before; those idiots you dated before had hard time with accepting the fact that you were known really well in academic field

also, he's a simp for you, okay

you could do whatever, and he'll support you and will brag about your success

your schedules are working extremely good together. the only time you were barely seeing each other was when you were writing your doctorate

Robert convinced you to go swimming with him at least once a week. it was hard at first, but in a month or so you started to actually like it

if you want to get married, then expect something over the roof for a wedding gift; he probably wrote to the Pope and asked for permission to take you to the archives

you rarely fight, but if you do, you will scream at each other for like 2 hours and then just fuck your frustrations out (it's never about serious stuff, you just have to have different opinions on significance of the kind of strokes Leonardo used on his paintings)

Robert will always make sure that he has time to kiss you and say he loves you before your work day

most of the time, he drives you both to the campus; the first time it happened you students were making all kind of comments (at some of them you actually smiled)

sometimes Robert is so far up his mind that you have to remind him what's real and what's not

he realized that he loves you when you had helped him through his panic attack not even knowing that he has a tendency of having them

you realized that when he did the most mundane thing ever; something like installing your new bookcase without you asking him to help you

you also were convinced at that moment that there's nothing more sexy than a smart man doing something with his hands (especially with his shirt's sleeves rolled up, oh my god)

i won't describe your sex life, but considering the fact that you're both sensible adults, you probably have no troubles with speaking about it and discussing your opinions

his favorite thing about you is the way you eyes light up when you speak about something you're passionate about

his second favorite thing, though, are your tighs (especially when they're on his shoulders and wrapped around his head)

he once asked what you liked about him. he had to stop you because the list was going on and on

you love his arms and ass more than anything

but the real thing you love about him is his intellect

expect him to have his hand on you at all times. holding your hand, having it at the small of your back, on your hip, whatever comes to mind

you love the way he relaxes instantly when you play with his hair

you once caught him dancing to your playlist (he said he didn't really liked it)

every week you choose a day and just dance together to your playlists

Robert is also not afraid to be goofy around you, which you appreciate and adore

#robert langdon x reader #robert langdon #tom hanks #ashley zukerman

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dreamingofmuses · 4 months

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New Year's Resolutions: RP Edition

Howdy all, Ash here. I've been having a think while with family this week, and I've decided I'm going to implement some new 'resolutions' to try and help make writing in 2024 be way more successful than in 2023. This will include things from the running of blogs to jobs I really want to get finished. I'm putting them under a read-more to keep the dash nice and clean.

I will say, this has taken me an hour to write up, and I'd recommend you doing likewise if you think there's little ways you want to improve.

Overall Running of Blogs

I'm going to experiment a new approach to running the blogs. For this, I'm going to put all active blogs to low-medium activity. In other words, even if I am personally lurking on mobile, I won't be constantly writing things if I'm not able to. (Work is just about to get super busy and I'm anticipating chaos)

A queue/schedule function will be used for all blogs. I intend to dedicate one weekday evening to working without interruption on replies. Taking commutes to the city and family visits into account, this is looking to be a Thursday, which is the only day I am neither travelling to the city nor have a guaranteed family visit. Of course, this may fluctuate, but that's what I'm hoping to work with, assuming those things stay as they are.

However! What all this means is that I am going to tentatively take skullandbowties off hiatus. With that blog being quiet, it should be possible to juggle it better now. Plus, it's officially off-season so the demand for him from new blogs ought to be low. I'm very smart :D

I also plan to update all pinned posts. I am aware some of them are marking a vacation from months ago.

Individual Blog Maintenance

Create "New Here?" posts to add to the pinned posts/info tags. This is going to be a very quick crash course on what to expect from the blog, especially where some characters might diverge from fanon expectations.

FINISH. WILF'S. BIO. It's not actually relevant to anything being written on the blog itself at present, but I really want to flesh out his character and show that he was stuck in stories for years, decades even! The doc has the word count to 4,888 at this precise moment. This is a mix of summary and brainstorm. Since it's getting a 'little' out of hand, I intend to have a 'tldr' at the start that people can read, and then longer versions if they're curious to get the full story. Maybe even have it that they can jump to particular parts but... I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Likewise, Noah's version of Space needs to be finished. This one is going to be a summary, but it's a case of making sure the pieces are in place sufficiently to have parts match canon Space, but also make it clear that there is a lot of differences between canon and what he went through, with his plot entirely spiralling away for 'Part 2'. This is at 5,794 words, and the ending has yet to be ironed out...

(I am going to stop creating needlessly long-winded projects for myself that realistically add nothing of value to my blogs. These two projects are exhausting...)

Theauthorlives is returning to a very small multimuse. Any muses that aren't ones I genuinely enjoy writing are being fully archived, unless they are muses that get no traction but I want to keep the possibility open. Details of that will be shared when I do this.

Redo some muse icons (not all of them!). Though the selection I have for particular sets is a lot, I still feel like I'm missing some expressions or poses. I would like to remake one batch of icons for three characters, and finish iconning a third. Replies seem to be shifting toward iconless, but I like them for asks or IC commentaries.

OOC/Mun Related stuff

Following matters that have happened both online and IRL, I've decided to take a step back from actively engaging with people. My focus will be people that I have been in good communication with for the last twelve months (as well as people I don't talk to frequently but am on friendly terms with) rather than people I feel I have to 'chase' after. Saying that, I'm going to try and not let past experiences meddle with anything in with new writing partners - whether these are brand new to the community or people I've not had the chance to properly interact with prior to this. Just be aware that I might not be super outgoing at first. (This is where setting limits and boundaries is good practice, everyone! Don't sell yourself short, and don't spread yourself out too thinly!)

Which is where I now say I want to send even more asks! Not just memes or sentence starters, but general questions about headcanons or muse opinions. I want to get people thinking more.

My stance on Discord still stands, in that it's solely for OOC stuff, but I'm not giving it out to everyone. However, I have been in two group servers that have little-to-no connection with writing rp threads in them. I would hope that I can fully regain my sense of comfort using Discord as a whole.

Art related

Despite socially stepping back, I still want to keep some semblance of 'community' where my blogs are active so people don't feel isolated. For instance, I want to do something that encourages invasions of ask boxes. That was good fun to watch as the chaos began to spread, and when people are good-humoured to go along with my silly ideas.

I want to have one huge art-related event at some point this year. I'm not entirely what or how to do it, but I think it would be a great excuse to practice something. Portraits, comics, something like that. I'll have a think. (For those who remember, the water gun event was supposed to have an art conclusion but plans for that fell through.)

I want to try and upload drawn responses to heythereneighbor once a week if I can. Obviously, this is depending on how busy it is.

I'd also like to try doodling more on other blogs? But I'm not sure if this is even something people want to see anymore. People might prefer I focus on writing if I have free time instead of doodles or little comics.

... the writing blog. I need to do stuff with that in general. Whoops.

Finally, I want to do what I can to the best of my abilities on a particular day. I've always told people over the years that real life comes before rp, and I still stand by that. Whether I'm around or not every day isn't the end of the world. The communities I write in are a lot slower paced than they were when I started, which is great! I need to remind myself that I don't need to be writing just because I have a bit of free time.

#(but some of these won't be starting this week because my work week is a little jumbled up)#(one tldr is that I intend to have one day a week for writing that should hopefully be a Thursday #but not Thursday of this week because I'm commuting to work and have personal stuff on as well)#(aaaand now I sleep. Have to catch a bus in the morning.)

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londonrih · 1 year

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||Lucy’s POV||

I was sitting on the toilet seat—closed of course, I was chewing my bottom lip as I glared at the pregnancy test in my hand. For the last couple of weeks, I haven’t felt myself. I wouldn’t say that I feel sick, but…it’s something, and I think I know what it is, hence why I’m looking at the pregnancy test in my hand.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered as I tapped the test against my hand.

I jumped when a knock appeared on the bathroom door, “Hey, baby—are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while…I uh, I brought you your favorite food, if you’re hungry.”

“I—uh, Tim, I’m fine.” I stammered, “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

He heavily sighed as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “Alright…but uh, when you are ready to come out, just know that a veggie burger with extra pickles, and fries is on the island waiting for you.”

I chuckled shyly as I looked back at the test, “Okay, I’ll get it in a few minutes. I just have to take care of some things first.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you be.”

My eyes fell back onto the test once again. Three minutes had officially passed. I sighed shakily at the results…I didn’t know how to feel, or react. I gulped as a tear slithered down my cheek, “I’m pregnant,” I whispered to myself. A breathy chuckle escaped my lips. Now, all I have to do is tell Tim.

I knocked on the doorframe to the bedroom Tim and I share. There were a couple of boxes yet to be unboxed, but we decided to take a bit of a break, we may have to hold on that a little bit longer. Tim was sitting in bed with his laptop in his lap. His face illuminated when he saw me, “Hey, baby!”

“Hey,” I greeted him softly. I slowly entered our bedroom as I sniffled. I noticed the way Tim’s smile disappeared as he began to frown.

He closed his laptop shut and placed it on the bed. He pushed the comforter off his legs as he rose from the bed, “Lucy,” he said my name sternly, “Are you okay? Like…really?”

My eyes widened as I sighed, “Uhm, I’m getting there. I found out some news earlier, and…you should be in the know.”

“Oh, okay—is this about the wedding? I know that wedding planning can be stressful, and uh…you haven’t really been yourself today—”

“—I’m pregnant,” I blurted out. I gulped as I looked into his eyes. However, Tim didn’t say anything, he just stood there, frozen. I was a bit worried. We already have another stuff going on, adding a baby into the mix was definitely going to complicate things.

His eyes fell to the floor as he crossed his arms, “I was not expecting that.”

I bit my tongue when I pulled the pregnancy test from my pocket. I mean—sure, Tim and I have talked about having kids before, but…we wanted to wait, I mean, we just moved into this new house, we’re engaged, and now we have to prepare for a baby.

When he looked at me, he knew that I felt…off. It was written all over his face, hell the worried expression that had been plastered on my face ever since I found out has been written all over my face, “Lucy…” he said my name softly.

I couldn’t even look at him in his eyes, “Luce, what’s wrong?” He whispered.

All I could do was shake my head, but even that couldn’t help, I flopped onto the foot of the bed. She covered her face with her hand.”Oh my god,” I muttered in frustration.

Tim removed my hand from my face and interlocked his fingers with mine, “Baby, talk to me…”

“This isn’t how this was supposed to go, Y’know? We’re supposed to be having this huge extravagant wedding. The wedding I’ve always dreamed of having. It’s gonna be difficult to find a wedding dress that would actually go with my baby bump.”

His thumb caressed the back of my hand, “Luce…you and I both know that there’s more to this than just…trying to find the right wedding dress. Come on! I’m your fiancé, Luce! You can talk to me.”

My left leg began to shake as I chewed on my bottom lip, “I couldn’t even take care of Kojo for an entire day, Tim! And that’s basically stage one of becoming a parent. If I can’t ‘mother’ a dog, what makes you think I’ll be a good mother?” I scoffed, “Our kid is gonna hate me, and I’ll never get to have a true relationship with them—”

“—Luce, listen to me, you will be an amazing mom. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself if you compare yourself to when you first got Kojo. I mean…look at where we are now. I swear you love Kojo more than you love me, and as hurtful as that sounds it’s true. Look at how you took Tamara under your wing, you gave her a place to call home. That’s what a true mother does. You’re gonna be amazing.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, “…Thanks.”

Tim placed a kiss on my temple, “Of course. I hate when you doubt yourself. ‘Cause you’re amazing at everything you do. You are gonna be an amazing parent…We’ll be the parents ours could never be.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true,” I chuckled, I looked up into his eyes, “I love you, Tim.”

He rested his chin in my hair, “I love you too, baby…”

“And you’re gonna be an amazing father. You’re so good at pep-talks, it’s kinda scary…Just make sure you don’t lose our kid.”

“Okay, first off—that was one time! And we lost the kid together!”

I shook my head as I hummed, “Mmmnn! You lost the kid twice! But Y’know what? I’ll take accountability for what happened. Even if his dad nearly got his own son arrested just so that he could remove his traffic tickets.”

“As long as you’re also taking the blame for losing the kid twice, I’m all good.”

“Oh whatever.”

—-

Thinking about making this into an actual fic after my hiatus

#chenford #chenford drabbles

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lil-tachyon · 1 year

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A New Year's Eve Tradition: One drawing from each month of the year

Below the break: the other New Year's Tradition where I go over my art goals from last year and reorient myself for the new one.

Another big year. Mixed results regarding my plans from last year.

Successes/Positives:

-Been doing art full-time for a full year now and haven't even come close to running out of paid work to do. Haven't had a slow week since I started so it's encouraging to know people are still interested in my drawings and willing to pay for them. Hopefully an indication that this is still a viable career path for me.

-Got a website and a newsletter up and running which turned out to be a pretty good investment of time what with the mess that twitter has become and how boring and unreliable instagram is.

Finished two comics this year! One for me, one for Spacewalk Comics, publisher of Holy West. Right now you can see them both on Patreon (and I'll throw in my book Coelum for good measure if you sign up). In total only ten pages, but comics have always daunted me so it feels good to finally have finished some. And I found that I actually really really like doing them, even more than I though that I would, so I want to build off that momentum in 2023.

-Got to meet and interact with so many great artists this year and that's always a pleasure.

Failures/Negatives:

-I was going pretty strong with teaching myself Blender for the first couple months and then completely dropped it some time in spring and have hardly touched it since.

-Likewise with some other experiments in painting and different media- was inconsistent in practicing them and became even less consistent as the year progressed.

-Aside from the two short comics, I barely worked on any big personal projects.

-Although I finished all my commissions on time I fell behind on some unpaid but important collaborative work that I still have yet to catch up on.

-In general, as the year progressed I found myself spending all my time trying to deliver commissions as quickly as possible at the expense of investing in my own artistic development or in completing any major works of my own.

-Although I haven't run out of paid work to do, I'm still struggling to bring in enough money to even make minimum wage and I'm only able to continue drawing thanks to the hard work and patience of my wife and I don't want all that pressure on her.

-In general, feel like I haven't made significant progress towards any long-term goal for the last half-year

-My poor musical instruments have hardly been touched this year :,(

-Lots of non-art things I wanted to do that I didn't even get close to

Goals for 2023:

-Get organized and stay organized. I do better when I divide my day into chunks and I lost track of that recently. Get back into that habit. Try to start each morning by going over goals for the day.

-Found that larger illustration commissions eat up a ton of my time and even with price increases have only recently started to bring in a decent amount of money. Will probably prioritize smaller commissions, be more strict about charging for revisions, and in general try to allocate more time for personal projects rather than spending weeks on other peoples' and not getting paid a lot.

-Spend more time drawing away from a computer. I feel like being in front of a screen with internet access all day for the last couple years has really eviscerated my attention span. I'm constantly pulling up new tabs of stuff to listen to or reference to look at it. I need to be able to focus. Probably draw some stuff that I can see around my room in the morning before even turning computer on.

-Finished up undisclosed, ongoing collaborative projects

-Work on a book. Got two ideas that I think are achievable, should narrow in on one by the end of January.

-Gonna try to make some woodblock prints this year. I got a printmaking kit for Christmas. We'll see how it goes. Whatever happens I expect to have fun with it :)

-Be more consistent about assessing and re-assessing goals. Try at the end of the week and end of the month. I think neglecting to do this is what got me so off-track this year

-Keep desk clean, room organzied

-Do more artist interviews. If you're reading this and have an idea for someone I should interview or we're mutuals and I haven't asked you yet, get at me.

Misc:

-Get sewing machine back in working order, sew some stuff. Need a case for my banjo, could try that...

-Read more books

-Spend more time outside

-Take train into city, draw at museums

-Be realistic about whether art is a viable career. Wouldn't kill me to go back into engineering and I do miss some aspects of it sometimes. The trick would be either to find a STEM job I actually enjoy or a low-stress part-time job...

Conclusions:

Thanks for sticking around, you guys are the best. No matter what happens I'll keep drawing this year and the next and on and on until my hands don't work anymore or I die. Happy New Year. Peace out. Best of luck.

-Logan

#art thoughts #really appreciate anyone that takes the time to read this #and everybody that's been following me and supporting me the last couple years #you guys rock #got questions?#send me an ask!

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 1 year

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BUTCHER BABIES To Release Double Album Of New Material This Summer

In an interview with Rapture Radio, BUTCHER BABIES vocalist Heidi Shepherd was asked if fans can expect to hear a new album from the band anytime soon. She responded (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET): "Yes. Absolutely. There's actually a double album coming out this summer.

"We took 2019 off of touring to write and record an album that we were set to release in 2020, and, obviously, the world died — it was basically a fend-for-yourself moment," she explained. "So we put everything on hold and we decided to use that time to write. And so we wrote a ton during that time. And so we decided to put the album on hold and go and record more. So now we have a double album coming at you this summer… And I'm so excited for people to hear all of this music that we've made within the span of the last four years. In fact, this morning we got the final mix to one song that's just finished. So you're gonna hear stuff we wrote in 2019, and then you're gonna hear stuff that we wrote and just finished last week."

Asked if BUTCHER BABIES' recently released single "Beaver Cage" is a good representation of what fans can expect to hear on the upcoming LP, Heidi said: "There's a lot going on [the upcoming double album]. Because this was written in two different parts, I think you're gonna hear a lot of different sides to BUTCHER BABIES. But I would say overall 'Beaver Cage' is a great representation of the album. There's a lot of really, really dark stuff on this album — we haven't done that in a while; there's really dark stuff — but then there's also really playful stuff, like 'Beaver Cage'. So I think that this is a really great representation of not just the album but the band too."

Earlier this month, Heidi told Heavy New York that songwriting definitely does not get easier as she and her bandmates get more albums under their belts. "I think that there's something to be said about evolving," she said. "[BUTCHER BABIES' debut album] 'Goliath' was 10 years ago; I'm a totally different human than I was 10 years ago. I've experienced, I feel, a whole lifetime of stuff, touring the world multiple times over with my friends. I'm just kind of deciding what to even touch on. And especially whereas… in the industry, people say, 'Oh, you need to be doing this now.' 'Oh, you need to do this. This is gonna make you successful. You need to transition into this way, that way, this way, this way, that way.' So kind of maintaining the integrity of what you want to create, I think, is a lot harder album to album to album.

"In this band, I'm super grateful for having the bandmembers that we have because we love to experiment and try different things," she continued. "And on this [upcoming fourth BUTCHER BABIES] album you'll hear some of the softest stuff we've ever done… A lot of these songs have been released, like 'Bottom Of The Bottle', which is a total radio song, and that was a song that I went in with the intention and totally [said], 'This is the kind of song that I wanna write for this.' And then you'll hear songs like 'Beaver Cage', where it's wild and chaotic. So I'm excited that we have bandmembers that let us experiment in that way. But when it came to deciding what kind of album we really, really wanted to do, we ended up with a double album because we kind of had two different directions that we really wanted to showcase."

Heidi went on to say that "Beaver Cage" is "quirky, it's silly, it's fun, and I think the whole album really reflects that. But the album has a dark side as well," she revealed. "And something that we're very excited about is showing these different sides of BUTCHER BABIES.

"When [2017's] 'Lilith' came out, I actually had quit smoking immediately after that album, so my voice changed so much between then and now. So you get to really hear the fun ranges I was able to discover in my voice after quitting smoking."

BUTCHER BABIES fourth studio album was recently completed with producer Josh Schroeder (LORNA SHORE, KING 810).

Last October, BUTCHER BABIES shared the official music video for their cover version of rapper Saweetie's chart-topping single "Best Friend". The clip was directed by Dale "Rage" Resteghini and was filmed at the Bare Den adult entertainment club in Newton, New Jersey.

BUTCHER BABIES have been performing their cover of "Best Friend" at their recent live shows.

"Lilith" was produced by Steve Evetts (THE DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN, SEPULTURA, SUICIDE SILENCE) and marked the band's recording debut with drummer Chase Brickenden, who replaced Chris Warner in 2016.

In July 2019, longtime BUTCHER BABIES bassist Jason Klein announced his departure from the band. He has since been replaced by Ricky Bonazza.

In 2021, BUTCHER BABIES embarked on a headlining tour, "Butcher Babies Vs. Goliath", which saw the band performing "Goliath" — released in 2013 via Century Media Records — in its entirety along with recent hit singles and new material.

Since 2020, BUTCHER BABIES have independently released a handful of newly energized singles, some of which were produced and co-written by Matt Good (FROM FIRST TO LAST),including "Bottom Of A Bottle", "Sleeping With The Enemy", "Yorktown", "Last Dance" and "It's Killin' Time, Baby!" The latter was inspired by the DC Comics character Lobo, a heavy metal bounty hunter.

#carla harvey #Heidi Shepherd #Butcher Babies #2023 news

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itsavgbltpta · 9 months

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Should You Watch The Anime? (An Intro Post)

Should You Trust My Thoughts on Anime?

I figure if I’m going to be publishing my thoughts on anime, you may as well get to know some of my likes and dislikes to see if you vibe with said thoughts. Or, I guess if you don’t vibe with me, you can use my reviews to avoid the shows I do like. XD

I’m still working on a definitive Top 10 Anime list, but I’ll be honest… I may never have that list done as new shows are coming out all the time. So instead I’ll list out a few of my favorite anime in different genres to give you an idea of what I like.

Heads up that I’m a bit on the older side, plus I got into anime when I was fairly young. That means there will be shows here from a good span of decades!

Magical Girl: Sailor Moon

It’s a nostalgic pick as this was my first real anime, but it still holds up even today.

Sports: Free!

I tend to like my sports anime 80% character interaction, 20% sports.

Mecha: Neon Genesis Evangelion

A classic for a reason. I get something new from it on every rewatch.

Sci-Fi: Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex

Deep psychological stuff mixed with cool technology in an amazingly put together show.

Isekai: Re: Zero

It’s a good and actually unique isekai with more depth than I expect from the genre.

Shoujo: Fruits Basket (2001)

Yes, I like the original better. It’s got a great mix of funny moments and tragic angst.

Shounen: Jujutsu Kaisen

This show takes the best parts of other shounen shows and puts it all together in one package.

BL: World’s Greatest First Love

Is it problematic? Yes. But I’m invested in the couples and how they will end up.

Horny: Interspecies Reviewers

Surprisingly deep world building and well animated kinky stuff? Sign me up.

???: Samurai Flamenco

I love everything about this anime. It defies genre.

Do I Hate Any Anime?

There is a redeeming feature or lesson learned from every anime I’ve watched, so you won’t see me list any hated shows here. There are certainly some anime I’ve watched that make me think I really could have spent my time better doing anything else, though. >.<

If I get bored or don’t love a show, I will not be afraid to mention that. I’m not being sponsored by anyone, so there’s no need to curb my own opinion.

My History With Anime

I’m putting this part last because you may not care about when/how I got into anime. And that’s A-Ok with me. But if you are curious, here you go.

As a very small child I was exposed to shows like Voltron, but I didn’t know it was anime at the time. Then Sailor Moon started airing on broadcast television (I didn’t have cable TV growing up), and I got absolutely obsessed.

In a perfect storm, the internet started becoming easily accessible around the same time, so I hopped online to get more Sailor Moon in my life. In doing this, I started seeing links to other recommended “anime” - which I pronounced as Anne-Nyme at the time.

Between Blockbuster, Suncoast Video, and the local comic shop (which no longer exists, sadly), I dove into the world of anime. I sank my teeth into things like the Dirty Pair movies, Ranma 1/2, Record of Lodoss War, and even pre-ordered each VHS of Neon Genesis Evangelion as it was coming out. $25.01 for each tape with 2 episodes on it (dubbed, since it was cheaper and I only had my allowance to work with). I was dedicated to the hobby.

I never stopped liking anime from that point on. I ended up leading two anime clubs (high school and college), and I still host a group of friends every week to come over and watch anime.

I'll post a link to my MAL, but it's not complete. I've seen too many shows and have forgotten some along the way. I'm concentrating more on shows I've actually completed on the MAL and probably won't mess with trying to find all the stuff I watched decades ago.

And that about wraps things up for the intro. I've been watching 10-15 shows a season lately (plus whatever we watch in anime club), so I have a lot to talk about. Let me help you figure out if you should watch the anime!

#anime review #itsavgbltpta #should you watch the anime #anime

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liugeaux · 9 months

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Repost Vol. 59: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - A Movie Review

Oh boy, a new TMNT movie is coming out next week! To celebrate, let’s take a look at my review from the last time Paramount launched a TMNT movie series. Time hasn’t been kind to this film, and I’m happy to say its sequel was higher quality, but I’m even happier to say this iteration died very quickly. Here’s to hoping Mutant Mayhem is a better reboot.

Cheers!

Originally shared via realitybreached.com on August 8, 2014.

For better or worse there’s a new Ninja Turtles movie in theaters. Its the first release since 2007 and the first live action release since 1993. The Turtles have a VERY mixed history when it comes to films. The first movie gets universal praise, but everything after it is hit or miss. I really dug 2007’s “TMNT”, but that’s not the movie we are talking about here. Sigh, let’s just get this review out of the way, so we can move onto bigger better things.

No movie this year went through as much scrutiny as the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Even I, the self-proclaimed biggest TMNT fan in the known universe, was hyper-critical of the entire film making process. Not only did I dedicate an entire post on my personal blog to the production of the movie, but an entire episode of the Reality Breached podcast was dedicated to destroying the film…pre-release.

Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting much. I went in cautiously optimistic, but in the end there’s alot of stuff wrong with that movie…too much. Let’s start with the good, why not? One thing the turtles have always been good at is humor, and this film hits that nail hard. Hands down some of the funniest stuff ever seen in the series comes directly out of Michelangelo mouth here. Pair that with well placed “Raph is angry jokes”, Will Arnett being Will Arnett, and an absolutely hilarious elevator sequence, if you don’t laugh you might actually have a broken soul. Also, for the most part the cast was good, Arnett was a highlight and Fichtner played bad-guy really well despite having a half-assed script from which to work. The biggest casting surprise was Megan Fox. Sure she played April a bit too ditsy, and her constantly pouty lips were out of place most of the time, but Fox didn’t under or over play her part. In fact, she almost fit the role. She was enough eye candy to make you not hate that she was on screen, and she wasn’t too damsel in distressy. Amazingly, of all the things that broke this movie, Megan Fox was not one of them.

The action was also pretty decent, there’s an exciting Splinter/Shredder fight, and the turtles get really physical with the foot clan. The much shown downhill snow fight is the highlight of all of the visuals, though. Its as ludicrous as it is flashy, but in a movie starring 4 talking mutant turtles it works well. This is gonna get a bit spoilery, but the fears of many fans were quickly put to rest as the characters got introduced. Despite being marketed as “the Shredder” Fichtner is quickly revealed to be a new character (Eric Sachs) and the Shredder is seen very early being Asian and very classicly Shreddery. I’ll need to watch the movie again, but that could be something was added or changed at the last minute during the infamous reshoots. Nevertheless, the changes made to the origin are much more similar to the changes seen in the current IDW comic series than any other version of the story. While not ideal, the origin didn’t offend me until giant inconsistencies popped up mid-story, but again, of all the things that broke this movie, the origin was not one of them.

Fun is to be had while watching the movie, and if you can COMPLETELY detach yourself from both your brain, your concept of proper story structure, and wear huge plothole blinders, you may really in enjoy it. And by enjoy it, I mean the way you enjoy terrible B movies starring retired wrestlers that come on the USA network. With all these good not terrible things in the movie, all the writers had to do was glue everything together with a consistent and coherent story. That’s the part that Liebesman and company get tragically wrong, the part where the movie has to actually be a movie.

I’ve spoken at length about how much I dislike the designs of the turtles in this film. That has not changed. Obviously the production design team decided that since zero script time would be spent developing the turtles as characters that they needed to communicate their individual characteristics through the gaudy nonsensical clothing each turtle was wearing. You tell me where on earth would you find a pair of sunglasses that would perfectly fit a head the size of a watermelon, like, a BIG watermelon. To communicate Donny is the smart one they loaded him down with the biggest stereotypically techy back-pack they could animate and even went as far as giving him coke bottle eye glasses. Donatello’s portrayal of smart or nerdy people in this film is almost as bad a The Big Bang Theory. The only two turtles with significant screen time and lines of dialog are Raphael and Michelangelo. Leo and Donny are just window dressing on the movie’s concept of Mutant Turtles. Dumb!

The Foot Clan’s motivations for their actions simply don’t make sense. Again, spoilers, but the idea is for Eric Sachs, to release a flesh eating disease on the city of New York and blame it on the Foot Clan. He would then sell the antidote to this disease to the city and make billions of dollars. Let’s not deconstruct the fact that Sachs is already an extremely wealthy man that owns multiple companies and has enough money to do whatever he wants. Instead let’s look at the deal the Foot have in place with Sachs. While Sachs gets money from the con, the Foot supposedly get power. Releasing the disease, and selling the cure doesn’t give the foot clan power it just kills people. Once the antidote is spread, things return to normal, and the foot clan have an even bigger target on their head. That’s not a deal, that’s being a scapegoat. Dumb!

15 years ago, Splinter and the turtles were created in a lab by Sachs with mutagen containing a cell regenerating agent that could make him tons of money. This means that Splinter, a normal rat, was never exposed to the art of Ninjutsu, something so crucial to the framework of the origin story, that Ninja is in the name of the characters. Splinter being trained in or even being exposed to Ninjutsu was not-so cleverly replaced with Splinter conveniently finding a book in the sewer that explains exactly what Ninjutsu is, with detailed pictures. Splinter is now a self-taught Ninja master, that within 15 years, learned the art, and trained his sons to use it. That screams of a writers room stuck trying to figure out a way to write themselves out of a hole. “Screw it, let’s just say he found a book, ninjas can teach themselves right?” Dumb!

Every scene in the movie is seemingly held together with thinly veiled plot devices duct tape. How does Sachs find the turtles? The business card he gave April just so happens to be a tracking device. How do the turtles get from Sachs home to the tower they need to protect? The snow hill scene, just so happens to be a short cut directly to it. Oh no 3, of the Turtles are captured, and their blood is being drained. How are Raph, April and Vernon going to save them? The tanks they are in just so happen to also have a massive amount of adrenaline on tap to inject directly into the captive turtles. It sure was convenient there was so much adrenaline available because they sure did need it in the fight scene immediately following the injection. Let’s just discard the idea that 3 of the turtles just had what seemed like gallons of blood drained from them. I’m sure they were good to fight a giant robot ninja master. Dumb!

Unexplained explosions, physics defying iron girders, slow-moving gravity, bullet-proof soft underbellies, virtually unguarded captured mutant turtles, a paper-thin plot, Tony Shalhoub as Splinter, this movie has so…many…problems. Its unfocused, poorly executed, badly written, and painfully predictable. Everything bad about this movie can be summed up in one quote from the movie itself. “Drain them of all their blood, even if it kills them!” Yes folks, that’s what we are dealing with here, a primary villain, who also happens to be a scientist, that is unsure of what will happen if you drain a reptile of “all their blood”. Dumb!

With all of that said, I’m not going to say don’t go see it. Its fun, it clearly doesn’t take itself too seriously and like the Transformers movies, it will have you smiling really big at several parts. The classic turtles references are few and far between, but they hit pretty hard and one thing they got right was the four turtles sense of family. That sense is only present for like 20-30 seconds of the movie but its there and kinda touching. TMNT’s flashy visuals and non-stop action will keep your attention, but beneath the shiny veneer is a cobbled together shell of a movie (pun intended). The worst part is that if it ends up making bunches of movie, which it will, these god-awful turtles designs will start to appear in the other forms of the characters. The Nick show might get all brooding and the TMNT will start to wear dumb-ass clothes, or the comics will abandon actual art and just let the 12 year olds that designed these giant hunks of disgusting start drawing the panels. On second thought, don’t go see this movie, only bad things could come of it.

Verdict: Don’t just don’t, I can’t even being to…no, just stop…wait…yeah, just go watch Guardians of the Galaxy.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt2014 #ninjaturtles2014 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2014 #tmntmovie #tmnt mutant mayhem #ninja turtles movie

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