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indierpgnewsletter · 9 months

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Recommendations: Books about RPGs

(This was first posted on the Indie RPG Newsletter.)

I’m always trying to level up my RPG knowledge and this has led me to look for books about RPGs. And there don’t seem to be that many! There are some academic books but while they have their strengths, easy reading isn’t one of them. Even as I wrestle with these academic texts (and I will emerge victorious), here are some books that are both interesting and fun to read:

Play Unsafe and Stealing Cthulhu by Graham Walmsley

Play Unsafe is a book of RPG advice. It’s a quick read (quicker than its 82 pages would suggest) and has some really gentle, grounded advice. For example:

If, while gaming, you can’t be clever or try hard, what can you do? The answer is: be obvious. Do the obvious thing: the thing that obviously happens next in the story; the thing that you think everyone expects to happen. Paradoxically, that obvious thing may, to everyone else , seem original and brilliant.

Stealing Cthulhu, by the same author, is about how to take inspiration from the stories of HP Lovecraft in a way that makes your own cosmic horror games feel fresh and unique.

Age of Ravens: Vol 1 and Vol 2 by Lowell Francis

These are two collections of various essays originally published on the Age of Ravens blog, formatted for easy reading. They’re essentially a greatest hits collection and do a good job of that. Volume I: Running has some of my favourite articles about running conspiracies, one shots, online games, and more. Volume II: Tools is mostly resources for play: story seeds and ideas to drop into your game whether sci-fi heists or apocalyptic hexcrawls. They aren’t connected by theme so you mostly can just dip in and out of them.

Unchained Mysteries by Jessie Burneko

Unchained Mysteries is a passionate call to ditch clue-based mystery design. Instead, the book proposes coming up with much more richly-layered scenarios where the players are drawn into a crime or crisis with no easy solution, where the players are caught up in a web of NPCs who are actively dealing with the situation, rather than passively waiting for someone to solve their problems. It ends up at around 100 pages so there’s real meat there if you want to engage with it.

The entire Knutepunkt line

Knutepunkt is one of the biggest larp events in the world - half conference, half festival, full of larps and talks and so on. Since 2001, they’ve been publishing books with essays (some more academic than others) about larp. They’re very well-respected. And as Evan Torner explained to me, if you’re not interested in larp, you can just mentally replace the word larp with TTRPG and still get lot out of these books. I’m nowhere close to finishing them but felt like I had to share them anyway. (Thanks to reader Mo, here’s the link to the books.)

The Ultimate RPG Gameplay Guide by James D’Amato

I have not finished this yet either but I can already tell the voice of the Ultimate RPG Gameplay Guide should resonate with newer players who don’t have a lot of set ideas about RPGs already. The author is the founder of the One Shot podcast network and clearly has a philosophy of play. For example, the first chapter is titled “Understanding Audience” and basically uses the idea that everyone has preferences in what they consume (books, moves, etc) to segue into the idea that RPGs emerge out of everyone’s shared preferences. It’s an interesting approach and if you want to know more, there’s a nice review here.

#indie rpg #ttrpg #ttrpg community #ttrpg design #ttrpgsolidarity #rpg

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shouldershimmycity · 2 years

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Helium - Prologue (Hangman x Mitchell-Reader)

Maverick never thought he would have children. Then he finds out he has a daughter, and he has to decide whether or not he wants to be a part of her life. But first, he has to get her out of enemy territory with the help of the man who will fall for her.

*****

I was writing another WIP when I got this idea so that one will have to wait haha. I'm back at school so I'm a little busy. As always let me know what you think! (Also Ice is still alive in this because I say so oops.)

*****

Maverick’s bike idled through the gate, the guard posted there didn’t need to check his ID to know who he was. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was probably the most well known man in the Navy, if not one of the top five. Of course, Iceman was up there as well.

Speaking of the Admiral, Maverick had been visiting his old friend when he had received a call from a Major General in the Air Force, who was stationed in Virginia. Mav had looked at Ice for an explanation, but the man who usually had all the answers had shrugged his shoulders. Then he had checked his work email, and insisted Maverick attend whatever meeting was awaiting him in Oceana. The admiral had turned pale, and he had poorly tried to hide the shock in his expression. He refused to answer Maverick when he inquired what was wrong. If Maverick wasn’t being given orders, his curiosity surely would have won out anyway. Ice had managed to get the load master manning the C-17 to clear a little space for his bike, which Maverick was thankful for. He could tell that he would be here for a while it seemed. Clearly, whatever waited for him must be of the utmost importance; but he couldn’t shake the look on Ice’s face from his mind.

Upon Maverick’s arrival, a Lieutenant saluted him, asking him to ‘follow me, sir.’ He opened the door for the Captain, and began leading him down a hallway, with nothing but government owned stark white walls, and an occasional newsletter taped up in random places. The Lieutenant stopped next to a door, which was opened, and Maverick thanked him, entering the conference room.

The blinds were closed, but the daylight crept through like sharp fingers, desperate to reach into the privacy of the dark. At the table were three individuals, two men and one woman.

The first of the men was Admiral Alexander “Beegee” Williams. Maverick had served under him briefly when he was sent to Bosnia after pissing off a different Admiral. Beegee had made sure to keep an eye on him for Iceman. He was younger than Mav and Ice, but a wise man all the same.

The latter of the men being Major General Leonard “Scythe” McConner. Maverick had heard of him, and he had clearly heard of Maverick. His face was stern and his hair was practically white, the lines on his face were twisted in a sour expression. Although Mav still had no idea what was going on, it was clearly bigger than he thought if the Air Force was being pulled into it.

It took him a moment to recognize the woman sitting in front of him, mostly because she wasn’t in uniform and their previous encounter had been a drunken one. She was much older now, as was he, but she was still very pretty. She gave him a weak smile, and he returned it although he was even more confused now. Hopefully he could get an explanation.

“Captain,” Scythe greeted him, and Maverick flashed his teeth in his signature movie star grin, nodding his head in salutation.

“Sir.”

“There is a situation abroad which you have been brought in to evaluate. Two F-22 pilots were shot down in enemy territory by 5th generation fighters. They are asking for a prisoner exchange, but their demands are higher than we’re willing to go. That being said, these pilots have top secret clearance and know information that we cannot allow to be… extracted from them. We need air support for the mission, and you have been requested specifically,” Beegee finished off his speech with the press of a button, which illuminated the screen behind Maverick.

Three images faced him, one of a young man, he was sturdy looking, built and had a strong face. He reminded Maverick of a pitbull. The picture next to him was of a young woman, she was about Rooster’s age, if not slightly younger. She had a confidence that only came natural to certain people, and he could practically feel charisma oozing from her. But he could tell she wasn’t cocky about it just from looking at her picture. He’d imagine that they might get along if he had the pleasure to meet her. Perhaps he could introduce her to Hangman.

On the screen below the two ID images was a slightly grainy picture, but it was horrifying all the same. Both of the pilots were held by the back of their shirts, and they were beaten to a pulp. Despite the perceived durability of the young man in the photo above, he looked absolutely terrified in the one below. The young woman seemed to remain strong despite the damage done to her body and her face; in fact, her expression was hard, twisted with the will to endure her circumstances. The photo reminded him of a seller’s listing, for an item. They were not items, these were human beings. It took Maverick a minute to tear his eyes away from the gruesome image.

“Where are they?” he asked, voice quiet from the shock. The images were replaced with a map, highlighting the enemy base involved.

“Boxer and Mayhem are right about here, we believe. The base is heavily monitored by 5th generation fighters. We would like you and the reassembled Dagger Squadron to take on the task of air support, most likely in the form of air to air combat, while a hostage retrieval takes place on the ground,” Scythe cut into the presentation, despite the vibe the old man gave, Maverick could see the worry beneath his face. These were his pilots, then?

“That’s possible, but I… I have to ask,” Maverick hesitated, his mind reeling, “why us? Why me? I’m in the Navy not the Air Force…”

That’s when the woman, who Mav believed was named Emily, burst into tears. When she stood to leave the room, his bewilderment must have shown, because Scythe pursed his lips together; eventually and reluctantly, he spoke.

“You’ve been called in with the expectation that you will complete this mission because you have motivation that no other team leader could have here,” he stated firmly, but Maverick was still so lost.

“Maverick,” Beegee spoke up, his voice was delicate; like if he spoke too harshly the man in front of him would turn to dust, “You’ve been called in because Mayhem is your daughter.”

Maverick blinked, then he blinked again, and once more before opening his mouth to speak. Nothing came out.

I have a daughter? How is that possible? She’s Emily’s daughter? Does she know? How could I have not known? Why wasn’t I told? I’m a father?

“Maverick!” Beegee called him back to reality, worry written all over his face. When the Captain made eye contact with him he continued, “I know this is a shock, and I would like you to be able to work through it, but we simply do not have the time, I’m so sorry. We need you to reassemble the squadron immediately.”

All he could do was nod, and when he was dismissed he stepped out into the hallway. Lifting his eyes, he saw Emily sobbing in the middle of the hall. He pointed a weak, accusatory finger at her.

“You– she– Why didn’t you tell me?” Despite his shock, his voice was stern. She went to speak, but he held up his hand, “No– no let’s not do this right now… I have to– I have to go assemble the squadron.” He brushed past her, and she only cried harder, and he could hear her mumbling something. He needed some air, and he needed to call someone.

*****

“I have a daughter.”

“WHat?!” Rooster choked on whatever he was drinking, and coughing filled the other end of the phone line. Maverick had no idea what to do, and the only person he could call about this was Bradley. He nodded, despite the Lieutenant not being able to see him through the cell phone.

“I know,” was all he could squeak out.

“Listen Mav, if you want to be a part of her life you can do that. I’m sure she’d be happy to have you as a dad,” he reassured. Mav took a shaky breath.

“That’s the problem. I have to call the Daggers back together for a mission. She’s a POW in enemy territory right now, and the Navy and the Air Force want air support on this mission,” he explained, and Rooster inhaled sharply, “I feel like the room’s spinning, Bradley.”

“Okay, well sit down, don’t pass out!” he demanded, and Mav did as he was told. “Okay, look, the fact is the mission needs to be completed first. Her safety comes first. You can’t be a part of her life if there’s no life to be a part of,” Maverick grimaced at Bradley’s words, but they were true, “so do what you need to do, and you can worry about it later, Mav.”

“Yeah… Yeah that is true.”

“I’ve got to pack. I’ll see you tomorrow and we can figure it out,” he sighed, and Maverick slumped against the wall, closing his eyes for some semblance of peace.

“Alright, talk to you later, Rooster.”

Maverick looked up and stared into the fluorescent light, he had no idea how someone’s life could change so drastically in a matter of hours. Not only did he have a daughter, but if this mission wasn’t successful, he would never get to meet her. He was not only confused, but he was starting to get angry. Maverick was a flight risk, pun not intended, and he had commitment issues, that was pretty much a fact. But never, ever, would he have neglected a child who needed care and love. Never. Especially if it was his own child. He knew what it was like to grow up without parents, he never wanted that for any other child. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t kick himself for putting Bradley through that. Did she even know who he was? Did her mother spend her entire life telling her he was a deadbeat? Would she even want him in her life? His head hurt. Why couldn’t he have been there?

Rooster was right. He couldn’t figure anything else out unless he could speak to her face to face. He had to focus on the mission first and foremost, then he could worry about it all later. He had a job to do.

He had to get his daughter and her wingman home safely.

#hangman top gun #hangman imagine #hangman #hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun #topgunmaverick #top gun x reader #maverick

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inairbinad · 10 months

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Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire! (7)

Now Complete! | Explicit Part One | Part Six | Read on AO3

warnings: none. just a fluffy little epilogue.

A few days after their first date—first everything—Steve and Eddie decided it was probably time to resurface long enough to actually socialize with other people.

Technically, only Robin and Nancy knew that he and Eddie were officially dating now. But Steve knew well enough that between Dustin’s big mouth and the fact that neither Steve nor Eddie had shown their faces anywhere but at work for several days, everyone in their little group had to know by now.

Not that Steve minded. He wouldn’t mind putting out a newsletter about it, actually, he was so fucking happy.

Especially when he kept getting to eat breakfast with Eddie every morning. Or Steve got to eat, at least, and Eddie usually watched while they talked.

It was sickeningly domestic, and Steve absolutely loved it.

“So we’re telling them we’re boyfriends, right?” Steve asked around a mouthful of toast. He considered torturing Dustin a little and pretending they were still dancing around it, just for shits and giggles. But Steve was pretty sure he was too enamored with using the word boyfriend to really get away with such a deception for longer than a minute or two.

“Mhmm,” Eddie hummed softly, not bothering to hide his own satisfied little smile at the thought. Steve had to brush his toes against Eddie’s leg under the table just to do something about how cute it was.

“What about the levitating thing?” Steve asked, unsure if Eddie wanted to keep that just between them. Eddie’s best guess about why it happened was that he was literally so happy he could fly, and Steve wasn’t exactly eager to dispel that notion in any way. Which is exactly what would happen if that became Dustin’s newest “problem” to solve.

It didn’t seem like Eddie was all that enthusiastic, either. He chewed his lip in thought for a moment before responding.

“I’m really not quite ready to be the flying monkey again, Stevie,” he sighed. “They’ve just started getting used to the new me, anyway. No need to go adding extra oddities to the mix.”

“That’s fair,” Steve agreed, but felt the need to clarify one worry that was written all over Eddie’s face. “But you know everyone’s still gonna love you, flying or not, right?”

Eddie huffed out a soft little sigh, like he did know that deep down, but he had needed to hear it anyway. Then the corners of his mouth twitched up in a teasing grin that made Steve’s heart sputter.

“Oh yeah? Everyone?” Eddie asked, holding Steve’s gaze until his face felt hot from the implication. Eddie didn’t make him sweat it out for long, though, and deftly moved back to the point. “If Dustin finds out about the floating thing, he’s gonna want us to recreate the initial circumstances, for science and shit, and he’s gonna want to watch.”

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathed out, realizing there was no way on earth Eddie could start feeding from his neck again in front of anyone without it being an embarrassing disaster. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Eddie crowed, then slipped his hand up Steve’s thigh beneath the kitchen table and squeezed. “We can always practice figuring it out on our own.”

God, Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, with a surprised jolt Steve realized he didn’t have to quash that impulse anymore. So he leaned across the table with a smile playing at his lips and waited for Eddie to meet him halfway.

Despite days of Steve practically hanging from Eddie’s lips every chance he got, sometimes Eddie still got this little surprised look on his face when Steve moved in to kiss him. On the one hand, Steve wanted Eddie to know deep in his bones that Steve always wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to show his affection in a million ways big and small until Eddie didn’t question it for a second.

And yet.

The little quirk of Eddie’s brow when Steve would start to tip his face to the side, or the sparkle in his eye that read something like again?, and really?, and lucky me, drove Steve absolutely wild. Part of him hoped Eddie never stopped.

Steve didn’t think it’d be a bad thing if neither one of them ever lost a little bit of the wonder at being each other’s, out of all the other people in the world.

Steve relished in that same sparkle for a moment as he nudged his nose against Eddie’s. “Let’s just not fly too high, yeah?”

He really never tired of making Eddie laugh, especially not when he was close enough to feel it, or to see the mirth that lit up his eyes.

“Deal, sweetheart.”

Eddie finally brushed his lips against Steve’s in a soft promise that might’ve been enough to send Steve flying out into orbit anyway.

— — —

A couple of hours later, Steve was lazily lounging on a floatie and trying to catch some sun before the gremlins arrived, while Eddie read a book in the shade nearby. It seemed only fitting that they have another day by the pool, considering how this had all started.

Soon enough, Steve’s peace was thoroughly disturbed by the sound of Dustin’s screeching reaching his ears. Steve bolted upright and turned towards the racket, confused, until he noticed literally everyone standing around the edge of the pool and staring at his chest.

His chest that was littered with bites, bruises, and scratches, all on full display as he sunbathed.

“Oh my god,” Robin said, just barely containing a full-on cackle. When even Robin was staring at his chest with wide eyes and a tilt to her chin, Steve knew he had to be a sight.

Steve nearly felt embarrassed—but not quite. This was his house, goddamnit, and he’d show off that Eddie was his boyfriend now as much as he damn well pleased.

“Get it out now,” he sighed as he paddled over towards the edge of the pool to climb out. Steve looked over to see Eddie’s reaction, only to find he was very determinedly hiding his face in his book.

“I knew it,” Dustin squealed, practically bouncing. Steve didn’t think that was a particularly impressive claim, since Dustin had been the one to set it up, but he shrugged it off as everyone else chimed in.

“How are you not dead?” Mike asked, and Nancy did the honors of pinching the back of his neck in response. “What? It’s a legitimate question!”

“Max, you’re staring,” Lucas pointed out, and Max shrugged him off without averting her eyes for a moment.

“So what? We all are,” she said, completely unbothered.

“Not like that,” Lucas argued as Steve finally got out of the pool and dried off. He wasn’t going to be the one to point out that Lucas himself was very much staring in the same vein as Max, since he was trying to stay humble.

“Dude, that’s true love right there,” Argyle said to Jonathan as much as he did Steve. It was the first thing that made Steve actually blush, so Robin took it as her cue to swoop in and shut down the commentary for now.

“Steve and Eddie are happy, yes?” she asked, looking between them. Eddie finally peeked out from behind his book and gave Robin a blinding smile and a thumbs up. Steve just nodded as he swooned a little. “Right. Then let’s be happy for them and try to act civilized.”

“Thank you, Robin,” Steve shot her a grateful smile that she returned in kind. Then he moved over to sit on the same chair as Eddie, folding himself between Eddie’s legs until his back rested comfortably against his boyfriend’s chest. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle, and Steve raised his eyebrows at everyone in a challenge.

No one was cowed, though. Dustin lit up like the sun itself, and the rest of the kids broke out in a chorus of “fucking finally”s while the older teens just gave Eddie and Steve looks of sympathy and happiness in equal parts.

“That went about as well as we could have hoped,” Eddie muttered in Steve’s ear.

Steve had barely hummed in response as Dustin came and plopped on the chair beside them.

“You could at least say thank you,” he grinned.

Steve twisted around enough to look at Eddie, who gave him a sheepish smile in return when he said, “Spoke too soon.”

“Hey, we helped!” Erica called Dustin out immediately, gesturing towards herself and El. Steve already knew that El was involved, but Erica too?

“How did you help?” Steve asked her, cutting right into whatever argument Dustin was teeing up.

“Tina’s brother was the one working the Ferris wheel,” Erica shrugged, and Steve tensed just thinking about being stuck up there again. Eddie squeezed him a little tighter, probably to help Steve remember they were on solid ground just as much as it was to keep Steve from shoving Erica, Dustin, and El into the pool over it.

Erica didn’t seem bothered by the queasy look on Steve’s face, and explained further. “I threatened to send pages of his journal to his crush if he didn’t let you all dangle for a while after El stopped the wheel. Now Dustin owes me a favor.”

The devious glint in her eye almost made Steve feel bad for Dustin. Almost.

“You little shits,” Steve grit out, somehow both impressed and irritated at their dedication. “I’m scared of heights!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten on the Ferris wheel then?” Mike chimed in, and Eddie snorted.

“What happened to leaving them alone?” Jonathan asked calmly. Steve wanted to kiss his forehead.

“I just think I deserve a little credit!” Dustin said. Robin came over to shoo him out of his chair so she could take it for herself, and by some miracle Dustin complied. Steve still wondered how the hell she got him to do whatever she wanted.

“Then so do we,” El affirmed, backing Erica up. “And so does Murray.”

“Murray?” Nancy perked up, more interested now. “What does he have to do with it?”

“Dustin called him up and asked for matchmaking tips weeks ago,” Lucas filled Nancy in. Apparently everyone was privy to Dustin’s plans, and had been all along. Steve didn’t know why he was surprised.

“Is that who you were calling sir over the radio?” Steve asked, the puzzle pieces finally slotting together. “For your ‘project?’”

“Yep,” Dustin beamed, still standing over them while everyone else dispersed to either the pool or their own chairs.

“So you didn’t really come up with any of those schemes on your own, then?” Eddie asked, sounding a little disappointed.

“I did so!” Dustin squeaked. “All Murray suggested was getting you two alone where you couldn’t avoid each other. Preferably in small spaces, and maybe to encourage some friendly competition. But I did the rest!”

“Yeah, that tracks,” Eddie hummed. “No one but Henderson would’ve come up with the linen closet story.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dustin challenged, and Steve didn’t really want to rehash how he’d fallen for the nasal spray excuse.

“And our dinner?” Eddie asked, trudging right along. “Did you know it was gonna storm?”

“Of course I did,” Dustin scoffed. “What do you take me for, an amateur?”

“And I assume El was why the power went out?” Steve sighed.

“Actually, no,” Dustin laughed, obviously proud of himself. “But she would have been if it hadn’t gone out on its own.”

Steve twisted around to give Eddie a look. “I told you so.”

But Eddie had a much more horrified expression on his face, and it took Steve a second to realize why. If Dustin had waited around to see if the power went out, that meant he could’ve seen…

“Wait,” Steve grit out, feeling like his whole body was about to erupt into flames. “How long did you wait around and watch?”

“Just long enough to see you kiss!” Dustin defended himself. And while Steve would admit that was a mildly relieving answer, it still left him thoroughly mortified.

“You little creeps just stood around in the rain to make sure we kissed?” Eddie asked, his voice sounding much squeakier than usual.

“We had raincoats,” El shrugged.

“I needed to be sure you had it covered, Steve,” Dustin said in his most condescending tone. “You weren’t exactly taking initiative!”

Steve didn’t know how Eddie escaped that particular critique, but Steve wasn’t really sure he could stomach any more of this conversation long enough to ask. He felt like he’d just dodged the most appalling bullet of all time—and one that probably would have ruined his sex life at that.

“If I say thank you will you shut up about it? Forever?” Steve asked, completely exasperated and unwilling to hear any more bragging from the little shits.

Eddie turned into Steve’s shoulder to hide a laugh. Even after days of not taking their hands off of each other, little things like Eddie’s breath on his skin still had Steve feeling all mushy.

“Yes,” Dustin said simply.

“Thank you, Dust,” Steve and Eddie both said in unison. Then Eddie added, “Now shoo. Go play with your friends.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning as he walked away.

Their peace only lasted about three minutes.

“I know I said we’d drop it, but…” Nancy trailed off, glancing between Eddie’s face and Steve’s neck and chest. “Does this mean we can stop our clandestine trips to the blood bank?”

Steve snorted, imagining Eddie and Nancy driving a getaway car full of bagged blood, but he could feel how Eddie tensed behind him.

“Uh, maybe less frequently,” Eddie half-mumbled. “Still not trying to kill my boyfriend.”

“Hey,” Steve turned his head to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m fine, okay? No guilt, please.”

Eddie’s lips twitched every time Steve said please, he noticed, so Steve might’ve been tossing the word around a little more than usual. He figured it couldn’t hurt to be polite.

“That reminds me. I got you something,” Robin perked up and started rummaging around in her tote bag. Steve and Eddie alike leaned forward, trying to get a peek at what she was doing. “Aha! Here.”

Robin held out a large, rattling bottle for Steve to take. He pinched his eyebrows together in confusion as he read the label. “Vitamins?”

“Iron supplements,” Robin said. Steve wasn’t sure how she managed to look both playful and stern about it, but she pulled it off with ease. “Take two every day so you don’t get anemic.”

Dustin apparently found this hilarious, which only set off a chain of everyone else snickering in appreciation at Robin’s gift. Steve hadn’t even realized anyone else had even been paying attention to them, but he couldn’t muster much more than an amused eye roll over their antics. Even Eddie chuckled lightly before pressing a soft kiss into the bare skin of Steve’s shoulder, which made it all that much easier for Steve to refuse to be embarrassed about this, too.

“Thanks Rob,” he said with a genuine smile.

“Oh you’ll thank Robin without issue,” Dustin said, which set Erica and El off again at demanding he stop taking all the credit. With the kids bickering again, Robin leaned in further so only Steve and Eddie could hear her.

“You should probably start eating more salads, too. Leafy greens in particular,” Robin suggested. When Steve just scrunched up his nose at her in reply, she sighed. “It won’t kill you. Might even make you taste better.”

Steve felt his bare chest flush, especially when Eddie’s grip on him tightened just a fraction as he huffed out another laugh. Steve powered through it anyway, shooting Robin a smirk. “I’ve heard I already taste pretty damn good, Robs.”

Eddie’s quick bark of a laugh came with an enthusiastic nod, and now it was Robin’s turn to look disgusted.

“Please don’t ever tell me that again,” she said, even though she was the one who brought it up in the first goddamn place.

Steve just leaned further back into Eddie’s arms and gave her a smug look.

“‘Pretty damn good’ doesn’t touch it, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured in Steve’s ear, too low for anyone else to hear. Then, quick like a cat, Eddie licked a stripe up the side of Steve’s neck until he reached Steve’s ear, and gently nipped at the lobe. It sent a shiver down Steve’s spine as he mentally cursed Eddie for making him want with such ease, and in front of everyone else.

“Eds,” Steve warned over his shoulder. “Not again.”

“What?” Eddie said, voice dripping with faux innocence. “I didn’t even make any popsicles today.”

Steve leaned his head back against Eddie’s shoulder, groaning as much as he laughed. It was going to be a long summer, and Steve couldn’t wait to dive in.

Yeah I definitely have more Vamp!Eddie ideas so. Stay tuned.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #fanfic #dani's drafts #steve's got a date #vampire!eddie

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mayakern · 10 months

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I figure with the RTS skirt drop and the sideways skirts timelines may have changed. Are the shirts being shipped simultaneously with the skirts, or did they get pushed back until the skirts were handled? I’m unexpectedly not going to be home and I’m asking my neighbor to take any packages that arrive inside, telling them what packages I am expecting, but I didn’t yet give them a mail key and I am not sure how shirts will arrive

YES!! ok a couple things have changed our schedule

our original schedule was to get the preordered shirts out during june and july and we are still on track for that!!

but when the shirts got in early i was hoping we could have all the preordered shirts out of our office and in the mail by the end of this week, and clearly that didn’t happen… for a couple reasons.

the main reason being, of course, that our whole production schedule got moved up by a couple weeks bc our manufacturer was faster than anticipated, meaning we had to pay some invoices earlier than anticipated. this meant that we needed to make some skirt sales to make sure the business had enough money for shipping for the preordered shirts, payroll, health insurance and rent, all of which were due in like the same period of time. so it was either list the skirts fast and ship the preorders less fast, or i’d have to dip into my personal bank account to make sure everything got paid.

the other reason is that the smoke has, unfortunately, returned to our area and the air quality downtown where our office is is unsafe. pretty much all of us here at maya kern LLC have some sort of preexisting health condition and even if we didn’t, i wouldn’t ask (or want) people to work in this situation. i’m waiting until the smoke clears up to make a newsletter email about this delay, since i prefer to send out as few mailing list emails as possible and i won’t have a solid idea of our timeline until we know when it’s safe to return to work.

anyway if you have concerns about the timing of your specific order, i would recommend emailing [email protected] and potentially having your order held, if necessary.

#ask #store

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ml-nolan · 3 months

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26 for timgerry!

Ok! This one is from SEPTEMBER when I was asking for blossoming romance prompts. Woof. Very sorry for the delay. Unsurprisingly, this is the Love & Nonsense AU and occurs around chapter 10–12 of Hiding in Plain Sight.

The prompt is: creating art inspired by them

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Every time the office door swings open, heat rushes to Tim's face. It's always Gerry; Fiona never comes back here, and that's probably wise. Over the past few weeks, ever since that first time, there's been at least one extended snogging session between Tim and Gerry per day and sometimes (well, usually) it goes further than that.

Otherwise, Tim spends his time trying to stay focused on social media and newsletters and booking events. It shouldn't be hard for him to do all his little tasks, but when he's in an almost constant state of arousal, literally everything is hard (yeah, that too, obviously). He has to keep his hands busy, his synapses firing, to even keep one foot on the ground.

So today when the knob turns, Gerry finds Tim with all his silly little gel pens out on the desk, his laptop shut, and an open book stolen from the gigantic cardboard discard box.

"What on earth are you doing to that book, you little monster?" Gerry says. He doesn't sound all that upset, though. Not in a way that doesn't make Tim shiver.

"Relax boss," he says, rolling his shoulders back and looking up at Gerry with what he hopes is a you don't scare me expression. "I just nabbed it from the gaylord. You were going to throw it out anyway."

Gerry grumbles. No leg to stand on—he's never been precious about discarded books and Tim doubts he'll start to be now. So instead of scolding, Gerry leans against the lip of the desk. Tim is sure he looks flustered, and when he looks up, the smirk on Gerry's face confirms it.

"Show me your masterpiece, then," Gerry says. Without waiting for permission, he pinches the corner of the open book and slides it toward himself. Tim sits back to let him see the multicolored eyeballs peeking out from every page, overlapping the discarded words that Gerry didn't see as valuable enough to put on the shelf.

"Couldn't really focus, so just some doodles," Tim says.

Gerry glance flicks from the page toward him. "It's very…colorful. Disgustingly so, actually."

"Disgusting! You wound me!" Tim says, with all the exaggerated affront he can muster.

Then, just to see if he'll be allowed, his hand strays toward where Gerry's holds the book open, thumb brushing over the black-lined eyeball tattoos on each knuckle. Miraculously, Gerry doesn't stop it, a curious look still shaping his face as he flattens his hand.

"Could do with a little color yourself, actually." Tim picks up the green gel pen from the desktop. His heart hammers in his chest, but he tries to ignore it as he colors in the iris of each of Gerry's tattoos, one by one. His heart beats even faster when Gerry does nothing to stop him.

"I do like green," Gerry murmurs.

"I know," Tim says reflexively. How does he know that?

Gerry lets him color in every iris on his left hand before Tim withdraws his pen with a flourish. Raising his fingers to eye level, Gerry admires each enhanced tattoo as if Tim had encrusted his knuckles with emeralds. He blows on the ink, then looks back down at Tim.

"Guess I know who to talk to if I need another tattoo."

"Oh, if you think I know how to draw anything other than eyes, you're sadly—"

But Gerry's already cut him off with a kiss, swooping down to cup Tim's chin with his raised hand. It's a biting kiss, claiming him like it always does, and as usual, it completely melts Tim's knees even as he's coaxed up and out of his chair.

"No offense to your artistic skills, but I can think of something better for you to do with your hands."

So much for trying to focus.

#GerryTim #GoofTroop #Love and Nonsense AU #No powers AU #Tim Stoker #Gerry Delano #blossoming romance prompts #ficlet #kick's fics

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sasquapossum · 11 days

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Here's a thought on how the internet is forcing people in multiple fields to monetize their work online, in the process making the online experience worse for everyone. Here's what I was responding to.

When lamenting the "old Internet", a lot of people forget that the vast majority of the people creating content on it were gainfully employed with strong career security. Meaning that they didn't need to make money from their hobbyist online projects, so they didn't need to monetize it. This is a lot different from today, where any sort of journalist/writer/artist/filmmaker is basically dependent on making content that sells ads or generates revenue, because their entire industries have gone online, or in many cases, been destroyed by the tech industry itself.

...and my response...

Interesting point. It makes me think of what happened to typesetters (including my mother) when desktop publishing came along. It was a bloodbath. Everyone was suddenly creating their own reports and newsletters, usually doing a terrible job, instead of paying professionals to do it right. Which is fine, actually, but it did lead to a lot of those skilled professionals losing their livelihoods. A few figured out ways to make it, either as a boutique business catering to those who still wanted work done to traditional standards or by teaching others how to do it themselves better, but most ended up leaving the profession. This is what's happening to a lot of artists, musicians, essayists, and others right now - even more so with "AI" everywhere. Lots of people unable to make a living with their hard-won skills, and insult added to injury as they have to watch others do those same things poorly. And programmers, just you wait until your livelihood consists of rescuing projects that went south because someone insisted on having ChatGPT write it instead of a professional human. For a fraction of what you used to make. I'm sure each and every one of you thinks you'll be one of the winners, still getting paid top dollar to do innovative work, but most of you are wrong. You'll probably get left high and dry just like most of your colleagues, and - unlike the typesetting example - it will mostly be our own collective fault. "Enshittification" already means something else, so we need a new term for when technology both drives people out of work and heralds a massive decline in median work-product quality. (So it's not just "disruption" which has become a word used mostly by tools anyway). Amateurization? Tyrofication?

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bettsfic · 5 months

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hey betts! i was wondering if you had any advice on dealing with the looming dread of a rewrite? as i was writing the first draft i realized i needed to rewrite the last two-thirds of it in order to tell the story that i wanted to write. and the realization that i have to do that if i want to feel like i'm doing this story justice is daunting as hell, i won't lie. thanks for your help!

oof, i feel for you, anon. the bad news is that there isn't much that can alleviate the discomfort of your current situation. the first time i was in that space, what helped was having friends that i could send each revised chapter to and get their cheerleading. knowing they were waiting for new chapters because they were invested in the story gave me the energy to get through major rewrites.

another thing you can do is take the 2/3rds of it you're going to cut, and go through and highlight all your favorite lines and paragraphs so you can see the stuff that really matters to you. all of the highlighted material (or nearly all of it) will find a new home eventually, be it somewhere in the existing project or in a future one. it may seem like you're throwing things away, but really you're just moving some stuff around and recycling other stuff. (i wrote more about the process of throwing words away in one of my recent newsletters.)

the good news is that subsequent rewrites for future projects will get easier. once you force yourself to rewrite or rework something huge, the next time you go to draft a story, you know not to be too rigid with your first draft, because you know you'll have to rewrite it anyway.

from a pedagogical perspective, i'd also like to point out the wide angle lens here. when you're drafting anything, you're teaching yourself the story you want to tell. when you're rewriting or revising, you're writing the paper or taking the test that shows you learned the material and internalized it. sitting down to write the paper or take the test is always going to be daunting, no matter how well you know your subject, simply because the stakes are higher and you haven't articulated your thesis statement yet or know what kinds of questions will be on the test. getting a draft right on the first try is like taking a test without having attended any of the classes or writing a paper without doing research, but still getting an A. like sure, it can happen, but it's not likely. so you have to allow yourself the time and freedom to learn your own material before you can turn it into something.

which is all to say, now that you know what you want to write, once you get started with rewrites i don't think it'll be as difficult as it seems. it may even be fun because you know you're on the right path now, and you may end up building up some good momentum and becoming even more immersed in your story.

#writing advice #process #revision

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dysthanasia-series · 5 months

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Phagophobia Pt. 20

Word Count: 1,701

Summary: It's rushed and not quite right, but I guess that's why they call it a rough draft.

This will serve as the ending to Phagophobia for now. What can you expect from here? I've started on an actual outline for the rewrite, so keep an eye out for posts of that as I go along. As for actual new chapters showing up, I'm estimating six months out? In the meantime, there should be some bonus stories and more detailed field guides for Coven agents to look forward to.

Whether you've been following this story from the beginning or came upon it recently, know that I appreciate the heck out of you. Seeing others get excited over the characters or show interest in bits of lore, as rough as this project is at the moment, helps keep me going.

Like Isaac, we still have a long road ahead of us but we'll keep working toward a brighter future. Together.

Content Advisory: Awkwardly witnessing an argument between exes, alcohol mention

Patreon | Newsletter

It was the longest walk he’d ever endured. The only mercy was Dimas staying a couple paces ahead so they didn’t have to speak. Luckily, whatever message Dimas had received on his tab proved accurate. An elegant, familiar model of black car sat in the shoulder of the main road with its hazard lights blinking. The driver side door popped open. A blonde person tall enough to comfortably lean one elbow on the roof watched their arduous approach. Black lipstick made it easy to track the smile growing across the stranger’s pale face.

“Well. You boys look like hell, but I have to say you smell delicious.” Vestiges of a drawl closely related to Kinslayer’s softened the edges of each word.

“Before you even try, Mergus already said no to eating anyone.” Renato reached for the handle of the front passenger door.

The driver snapped their fingers and glared at him. “You get in the back. Your boy-toy can sit shotgun. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to chit-chat about.”

“He’s not—”

Trademark bloodborn fangs appeared in the newcomer’s glossy goth smile as they turned to Isaac. “Did he stab you yet? Shove you off a building? Although I guess it’s still pretty early in the relationship for that, isn’t it?”

“You’ll have to excuse Oleander,” Dimas cut in. “She’s still bitter over me being happier with a goldfish than I ever was with her. And, apparently, because I shot her once just to kill someone about to stake her in the back.”

“Oh, so the whole shoving me from three floors up thing was just for funsies. Glad we cleared the air.”

A wave of nostalgia for riding to his death with Quinn and Zamora washed over Isaac. He sighed and gingerly slid into the front seat. The squabbling bloodborn followed suit shortly after. Thankfully, the crushing percussion, wailing guitars, and guttural lyrics that blared from the sound system saved them all from further conversation as Oleander flipped the car into an illegal u-turn and sped back toward the city.

When Isaac snorted awake again they’d parked in front of the clocktower. Oleander unclipped her seatbelt, but Dimas interrupted.

“Don’t bother. We won’t be more than fifteen minutes.”

“Hm. Awfully quick turnaround for both of you washing up and packing. Or are you going to scrub each other’s backs in the shower to save time?”

“We’ll have to stop somewhere before dawn anyway. We can clean up then. For now, we’re just grabbing a couple of bags.”

“Yeah, right. More like grabbing each other’s—”

“Ollie, wait in the fucking car, all right? Please?”

She twisted around to pin him with a basilisk-grade glare while Isaac pretended to be part of his seat. From the corner of his eye, he watched her reach out, wipe or scrape a sample of blood off of Dimas’s cheek, then stick that finger into her mouth. Whatever she tasted made her snort and turn back around.

“Fine, whatever. One second over fifteen minutes, though, and I’m leaving your asses behind. You can explain to Mergus why you’re running late.”

Isaac followed Dimas’s lead in exiting without comment. It wasn’t until they’d passed through the revolving glass door and into the privacy of the elevator that the wall of silence between them crumbled.

“Ollie will rip your throat out just to spite me,” Dimas blurted as they passed the seventh floor. “Don’t get caught alone with her.”

Isaac flinched as he reached into his pocket, cuts on his fingers and bitemark on his arm throbbing. “Would you rescue me if I did?”

In the shiny brass-plated doors Dimas’s reflection twisted like he’d swallowed something slimy and still wriggling. “I think we both know the answer to that already.”

The lines of his face relaxed, though, when Isaac nudged his arm. Dimas looked down to see his folding knife and rosary being offered back to him. He reached for them. Logically, Isaac recognized his cue to let go. Instead, he held on, their fingers a hair’s breadth away from touching. Dimas’s expression thawed fully as their stares met. He took a breath, lips parting.

A shuddering stop and cheerful ding announced their arrival. Isaac’s hand jumped away like it’d been stung. He fled the elevator the moment the doors opened.

And ran straight into another conversation he wasn’t ready to have.

“Oh, you were right!” Dorian told Kinslayer from where the two of them sat side by side on the loveseat. “They’re home. And they look terrible. Please tell me most of that blood isn’t yours.”

Kinslayer polished off the last of Dimas’s vodka before slamming the bottle down on the coffee table. They pushed themself onto their feet and flung their arms wide, grinning. “My favorite cousin and bookworm! How good to see you, alive and in one piece even.”

Renato lifted his eyebrows at Dorian. “You let them in?”

“She had the elevator code and seemed to know both of you.” They folded their arms across their belly. “Plus, I had no idea when…if…you’d be back. Ott made for good company while we waited. Even if she did drink all the vodka.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you, freckles. I’ll bring you some moonshine good enough to open up your third eye, even if it’ll be seeing double the whole time.”

“Or some mimosas and a big breakfast to keep it sleepy and closed instead?”

“Ain’t as fun, but sure, suit yourself.”

“As much as I’d love to stay and chat,” Renato interrupted, “Agent Soto and I on a tight schedule. We’ll explain later, but Ki—Ott. May I ask another favor of you?”

“You know you can, cousin.”

“Help me protect Dorian. They’ll be following Soto and me north but need to stay out of sight. Between the two of you I’m sure you can more than manage.”

Kinslayer glanced over at Dorian. “How about it, freckles? Mind if I tag along?”

“Not at all. I’m doing the driving tomorrow, though.”

“Not much of a plan, but it will have to do for now.” Shoulders slumped, Renato rubbed his hands over his face. A crimson snowfall of dried blood drifted to the floor. “I’m going to pack a couple of bags and then we’re off. I’ll contact you both as soon as I can.”

Then he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Isaac with the other vampire who’d almost-but-not-quite eaten him. At his own insistence maybe, but still.

“Bookworm,” they said.

He kept his eyes on their sand-sprinkled hiking boots, but his body was already rooted to the spot. “Uh. Hi.”

The boots went into motion, headed right for him. Isaac’s palpitating heart plugged up the back of his throat. He knew, somehow, that Kinslayer wouldn’t hurt him. They weren’t the one he couldn’t trust.

Kinslayer’s next step stumbled. Another spike in his pulse spurred Isaac out of his silent panic. He helped steady them with one hand on a shoulder and the other below their ribs. The smell of brine, liquor, and rain rolled off of them, salty, sharp, and sweet. Their dark shirt stuck to their skin, soaked with something hot and wet. Isaac’s palm came away smeared in red.

“You’re hurt,” he whispered.

“I’ll live,” they replied. “Jury’s still out on you, though. For a squishy little bookworm you sure pick a lot of fights.”

“What happ—”

“Not enough time, like your bloodborn said. It’ll have to wait.”

“Even if you still owe me an answer?” Isaac sucked in a breath when he realized he’d said it out loud. Apparently, it was going to take a while before the filter between his mouth and brain grew back.

Kinslayer let out a low laugh. “Brat. This isn’t a simple transaction anymore.”

Right. When was anything? “What is it then?”

A hand gripped him under the chin, forcing him to look up at last. Their eyes were still as black and lightless as staring into the barrel of a rifle. A wave of warm numbness dissolved the bundles of tension across Isaac’s shoulders. His breathing slowed.

He blinked. Then again in surprise. Isaac put a hand to his chest. His heart continued to beat, relaxed but steady.

“It’ll be what we choose to make of it,” Kinslayer told him. “Together.”

They released his chin and took a step back as footfalls came down the stairs. Dimas, wearing fresh clothes, reappeared with two suitcases probably worth more than Isaac’s entire wardrobe in hand.

“Agent Soto? Ready?”

“Oh. Um, yeah, ready.” He gave the most awkward wave of his life to a beaming Dorian and gulped at the smirking Kinslayer. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around?”

Getting into the elevator again came as a strange relief, but he took it.

As the lights for the floors counted down, Dimas half unzipped one of the suitcases and pulled out a dark blue shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons.

“Here. You might be a tad wider across the shoulders and narrower in the hips, but it should fit.”

Isaac hesitated. The shirt looked like it might curl up and disintegrate like a rare flower if he so much as breathed on it. Dimas, misinterpreting, mustered a smile that managed to be equal parts annoyed and amused. He turned his back to give Isaac privacy. Or as much as the shiny brass walls would allow anyway.

Shit. Path of least resistance it was. Just this once—he was too tired to explain. Isaac gingerly peeled off his old, blood-saturated shirt and shrugged into the new, fresh one. It wrapped around him, soft and light as the wings of an angel (though, a little snug when he stretched his shoulders, true). He finished buttoning it to the collar before the elevator doors slid open.

Dimas turned around and looked him over. Amusement won total control over his smile. Lightning-quick, he reached out and popped open the top button of the shirt.

“Live a little, Agent Soto,” he said, stepping out into the lobby, luggage in tow. “If nothing else, it will spite everyone who wants us dead.”

Isaac tried to glare, decided it wasn’t worth the energy, and threw his ruined shirt into the trash on the way out.

#dysthanasia #urban fantasy #writeblr #fantasy #vampires

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mementoboni · 1 year

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[part 2/3] Kaoru no Dokugen - Chapter 0: The person I admire

"Encouraged by the words written there with his signature, I vowed as a high school student that someday I would definitely make my dream come true to form a band."

Notes before reading:

This chapter is from Kaoru’s first book “Dokugen" released on October 2015. It is placed after Chapter 35 (the last chapter), not part of "Ongaku to Hito" magazine. You can purchase the book 👉 here.

The title is written in Kanji as "憧人" (Akogareru Hito), which means "The person I admire". (Actually, I'm not sure if this is how it's pronounced 😅)

I first translated this chapter into Traditional Chinese in 2021, but later I found that there was no English version, so I decided to translate it again into English.

The translation is divided into three parts (I didn't expect it to be so long in English…). This is the second part. 👉 part 1. & part 3.

In this part, Kaoru talks about how HIDE promised to attend DIR EN GREY's live at Shibuya Koukaidou on May 5, 1998, but everything changed just three days before the live.

Repost and share are welcome.🙌 This is the first time I have translated so much words into English, so please feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts.☺️

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The reply arrived with the X fan club newsletter, just as the Violence In Jealousy tour was starting. I couldn't stop shaking, I was so happy and almost cried. I just kept looking at the picture of HIDE-san over and over again with a sneaking smile.

Encouraged by the words written there with his signature, I vowed as a high school student that someday I would definitely make my dream come true to form a band.

And time flied.

DIR EN GREY's first live show at the hall was scheduled to be held at Shibuya Koukaidou (渋谷公会堂). A few weeks before the show, Tommy-san told me:

"Kaoru, I happened to meet HIDE-chan the other day. When I told him, ‘There's a guy who likes HIDE-chan, and his band is going to have a LIVE at Shibukou (渋公=渋谷公会堂), so you should come and see them.’ then he said he'd be there.” It's a little surprising though…

“HIDE-chan always keeps his promises, so I'm sure he'll come!"

I did not expect to meet the person I admire so soon, so I was in a state of confusion between happiness and tension. The time passed like a dream before we met. Until 3 days before the live…

Three days before the live show. During a rehearsal break of Shibukou, a phone call was made to our manager. From the conversation, I felt that there was not just a matter. After hanging up the phone, the manager told me with tears in his eyes:

“…HIDE-chan has passed away.”

On the way back from the recording studio, there was an article about HIDE-san in the sports newspaper that people in the train were reading. I couldn't accept the reality, but at the same time, I knew it’s true because it's in the newspaper. "What the hell is this?” I thought to myself; "How can you be laughing at such a time?” I said to the guy who was laughing in the train, then I went home while suppressing the urge to punch him. It was the same the next day and the day after that. I may have even wanted to run away somewhere.

However, it was the live at Shibukou that cheered me up. A lot of people came to see our first hall live, and HIDE-san would be here. Everything was some kind of mistake. Anyway, I told myself to forget about it and focus on the live at Shibukou.

The live at Shibukou. The first performance at Hall made me nervous, but I was still very dedicated to it. When I returned backstage waiting for the encore after the main show, TOMMY-san and GEORGE-san from LADIESROOM were there. Both of them were in mourning clothes. It seems that this day was a wake. TOMMY-san asked us with a smile and some concern, "How is it? Do you still feel bad?" GEORGE-san, on the other hand, said to me, “Hey! You like HIDE-chan, don't you? You have to work harder! This kind of live performance will make HIDE-chan feel bored and go home!"

Something was about to overflow, but I held it in and fuck it. I went back to the encore stage while thinking about doing a good job.

But then I saw it.

In front of the dressing room of Shibukou, there was a window-like place to shine a lighting spotlight. I could see TOMMY-san and GEORGE-san watching from there, and a picture of HIDE-san was put there.

I had been trying to forget. Oh, it's true… I finally accepted reality and cried on stage for the first time. After that, the show was a mess. Thanks to that, we were banned from Shibukou.

The next day was the funeral ceremony. I stayed near the entrance of Tsukiji Hongwanji Temple for a long time. I had no idea what was going on inside, but when I thought the ceremony was almost over, TOMMY-san appeared in front of us. "Come on, follow me!” I ran over to him as soon as I was called. I was led to the ceremony site, just before the coffin was about to be removed.

That’s where I met HIDE-san for the first time.

(To be continued…)

Words from the translator:

In 2018, Sugizo said on Sugizo Tube (with Kyo as a guest) that he often talks to Kaoru, Kaoru loved HIDE so much that he wanted to meet HIDE all the time, but he ended up meeting HIDE at the funeral. 👉 Read more on Tumblr It was Sugizo's words that made me decide to translate this chapter :)

Kaoru also mentioned his first meeting with GEORGE in an interview ahead of the 2020 no-audience LIVE "The World You Live In." 👉 Watch on YouTube (starts from 6:40)

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part 1. & part 3.

#dir en grey #薰 #kaoru #読弦 #dokugen #憧人 #akogareru hito #translations #kaoru translation #text translation #hide #松本秀人 #translation by yinfu

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sarah-sandwich-writes · 3 months

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HOLD ON WAIT UP HOLD THE PHONE

I KNOW I WAS GONE FOR A FEW MONTHS THERE BUT HAS BLUE LIKE DON'T FORGET ABOUT ME ALWAYS BEEN A PART OF A SERIES OR IS THAT A NEW DEVELOPMENT???

I FEEL LIKE ITS CHRISTMAS ALL OVER AGAIN FUCK Y E A H

Okay so

I...

have been cooking

by which I mean illusions of grandeur and

schemes

And I have not been forthcoming lol Everyone kind of disappeared all at the same time so I kind of stopped talking about what I'm doing but I have been biding my time, quietly putting mechanisms into motion and plotting and occasionally cackling over my cauldron.

I finished the first draft of Blue like don't forget about me and didn't like it so I cut out all the sci-fi fantasy stuff (bye bye aliens farewell superpowers) and in November wrote a new first draft that's all contemporary romance babeee and I'm so in love with it I'm turning it into a little 3-part (possibly 4 if I can't control myself) series.

The original childhood years have been split off into a prequel novella called Red like my bleeding heart in your hand. Then Blue like don't forget about me will take place 20 years later. Nash works at Cherished Hope Nursing Home

“And what is it you do? At the nursing home, I mean.” I wipe shit off of old people. And Teddy’s a hockey player. What’s Luke, an underwear model? He shouldn’t have come.

Teddy comes back to town for a funeral and

Teddy looks at him for the first time in twenty years and every ounce of warmth leaves his expression. Message received. He should not have come.

OKAY SO AND THEN the next book will be Jo's POV and is called Violet like these delights. and MAYBE there will be a 4th from Luke's POV bc he gets to live this time by the grace of god (me) but it'll depend on how Violet goes (its current state is mostly vibes and a single overarching theme so, stand by).

Red needs a clean-up round of edits to snip out the few little threads that connected it to OG blue. And rewritten blue is basically done. I've done the major revisions and am about to start line edits and after those are done I'm sending it out to beta readers (lmk if you're interested).

There are concise actual summaries in my pinned post btw lol

WHICH REMINDS ME

The series title is Wildflowers of Deliverance. Which I'm extremely proud of. Did you notice did you notice how each title incorporates a wildflower did you did you? and the town they grew up in where Nash and Teddy first met is called Deliverance!!! It's okay I know I'm a genius.

And this brings us to the meal okay? because like I said I've been Cooking™ quietly but steadily for a few months now. ANd what have I been cooking? PLOTS and PLANS

I've decided on a pen name: Sarah B. Elisa

I've created a(nother) side blog for it that will be exclusively centered on my og writing and geared more toward readers rather than writers like this blog is: @sarahbe-writing

I'm going to create a website (as soon as I convince myself to spend money)

and a newsletter (as soon as I convince myself to spend money and do work)

I'm still waffling between trad publishing and DIY. I really like all my hats and it would be a shame to have to share them but oh my god I don't want to do all the marketing but trad pub seems hit or miss on how well they market you so I might get half of my hats taken away and still have to do the marketing bullshit UGH

anyway

OH YEAH and the OG draft I wrote for Blue? I'm going to spin it back to its OG OG roots [parkner, naturally--Return of The childhood friends to estranged almost lovers to super-powered rivals to reluctant allies to friends to lovers finally wip!!! AKA: We Were Gods (we were kids)] and that will fix all the things that went wrong and I didn't like 😌 so it's basically like double Christmas I think

#i have been #a tad reluctant to use the tag list #since because I scrapped the whole plot and genre and started over #feels like a teensie bit of a betrayal?#so idk i think i need to make a post (way fucking shorter than this one) and tag everyone and see who still wants to be tagged in stuff?#or maybe im close enough to the finish line i shouldn't do tag list stuff anymore? I'm kind of wary of oversharing bc #i totally did before #and the word count is smaller now #and there aren't like Plot Twists #it's a romance we all know how this is gonna end #so idk that's mostly why i've been quiet like haha what should i say and to who?#But anyway this weekend I'm going to get my shit together and put up some posts and get the ball rolling again #share some excerpts #get people excited #put out a call for beta and sensitivity readers #you know. work lol #also i missed you and i'm glad you're back <3333 #my notes were sooooo quiet lol #and i don't just mean on my writing stuff i love seeing all of your tags in my activity like Yay that's my friend!! And they're yellin!!!#we love to see it <3 #anyway #:)

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spinachandhoney · 30 days

Text

SnakeFace episode 15 script

[prone to change]

[script under cut]

“Rain still not giving up?” Joey trodded down the stairs in a robe and slippers.

“Is that my robe?” Kim asked.

“You aren’t wearing it.”

“Touche. You can take it if you want, I never wear it.”

“How kind of you.”

“And yes, it’s still raining,” Val said, lounging on the loveseat.

“Where are Hans and Ivan?”

“Ivan’s still in his room, I think,” Kim said in a low voice, holding a mug in her hands. “Nothing on Hans.”

Joey nodded and walked across the room. “At least it’s not storming anymore. Still, it’s a lot of rain in 14 hours for early April.”

“Just be glad it isn’t flooding,” Val said. “I live on the cliffside, so when it floods the water level makes the house shake. Trust me when I say it is not a fun experience.”

Joey looked out the window. “You think they’ll call off school?”

“Doubtful,” Kim said. “Unless there’s a flood warning.”

The three of them waited a while longer for Ivan to join them in the den. Kim was making breakfast by then.

“Is it still raining?” The snake asked groggily.

“Take a guess,” Joey said. “It’s not coming down as hard as it was last night, but the winds are terrible right now.”

“Is that enough to cancel school, because I’m really not feeling like going today?”

“It couldn’t hurt to check.”

Ivan and Joey sat on the couch to check the weather app, and then the school’s daily newsletter.

“Looks like this is the least rain we’re getting all day. It’s supposed to storm again this afternoon. Principal Reid says it’s better not to show up today because of the wind. Looks like you get to stay home, Ivan.”

Ivan practically melted into the couch.

“My packages will still be delivered though, right,” Val grumbled. “I hate late packages.”

“Mail deliveries shouldn’t be delayed until after two, so I think you’re good, Val.”

Val whispered a silent victory “yes” to himself. “Oh, crap, what about Hans?”

“We could probably make a quick trip to his house and back before the weather gets too serious. Honestly, I’m surprised they cancelled school at all.”

“Maybe principal Reid doesn’t feel like driving in the rain,” Kim came into the room. “Food’s ready. Could someone go get Hans?”

Val toppled onto the floor. “I’ll get him. We’ll drop him off after breakfast.”

Ivan’s mom left soon after Kim finished cooking. She was off to look for another job to apply for. It was hard for Ivan not to have his mom around; he relied on her for a lot of things. He did have Kim to help him most of the time, but sometimes you just need that comforting “mom” presence.

Ivan and Val went with Hans while Joey and Kim stayed at the house. This was mostly in case Val managed to get lost again on his way home, and Ivan had a pretty good sense of direction. That, and Joey didn’t feel like getting dressed. <add a fun panel of Joey refusing to take off the robe>

“Come over again whenever,” Ivan said. “Hopefully next time Kim’s parents are home too.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hans said before closing the front door.

Val and Ivan hadn’t had a lot of time to hang out with just the two of them, but then again Ivan never really hung out with anyone one-on-one other than Kim.

“So, Val,” Ivan said as they turned around. “You said you lived on the cliffs; what’s your house like?”

“It’s pretty big,” Val answered. “Really old, too. The inside is always dark because, well, vampires. I try my best to stay out as much as possible, though.”

“Really? Why?”

“My family has never been super fond of me. My sister and I are… different from the rest of my family.”

“Different how?”

“Maybe another time. I think you’d like my sister, though. Anyway, back to the house. When I am home, I usually stay in my room or the music hall.”

“You have a music hall?”

“It’s more of a living room with a piano in it. No one knows how to play but my parents, though, and my dad hasn’t played in decades. I’ve never actually heard him play before. But my mom loves the piano. Any time she plays, she puts her whole heart into the piece.”

“So I take it you have a good mom?”

“I do love her a lot. She spends most of her time with my dad, though, so I don’t get to spend time with her that often. She’s really the only one of my family members other than my little sister that actually acknowledges my existence. My older brother and sister and my cousins… not so much.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up-”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. It’s not like I care about what they think, anyway. I’m my own person, and what they say about me doesn’t matter.”

Ivan admired the confidence in Val’s statement, but he could tell it wasn’t the full truth.

“You know, I might take you guys by my house sometime. It doesn’t have a stargazing tower, but it has its charm.”

“It sounds really cool.”

Val smiled. The wind started to pick up as they reached the woodline. They passed a delivery truck on their way down the street. When they got back to the house, several packages were sitting on the doorstep. Val’s face lit up.

“Aw, man, we could’ve picked up some paint on our way back,” Val stood in front of the boxes.

“Well, we can get the packages inside and then ask Joey and Kim if they want to go back out with us.”

“I doubt we’ll get Joey out of that robe, but we can try.”

Kim moved the boxes into Val’s room with ease (she used magic). They pitched the idea of going out shopping before the next storm hit.

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Kim said. “We could use some groceries, too. It is a pretty far walk, though…”

“I got this,” Joey said. “My sister’s place is on the way, we can walk there and I can get my car. Gives me an excuse to finally bring the rest of my things here.”

“Alright, you go get dressed and we’ll be on our way.”

Joey moped up the stairs as he took off the robe. He came back down quickly, his shirt only halfway on as he ran to the door. He straightened his clothes out. “Okay, let’s go.”

#snakeface comic #webtoon #webtoon canvas #webcomic creator #webcomic #script #snakeface script

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