#by like three books I had to end up finishing in 2023

[dancedance-resolution]

i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?

---

Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.

“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”

At that moment, Kara saw the painting.

She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.

Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.

Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.

It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”

Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.

“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.

“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”

Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.

“What’s the title?”

The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

---

Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.

Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.

At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.

The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.

The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.

With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.

---

The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.

But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.

Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.

---

The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.

She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.

The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.

A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.

Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.

They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.

While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.

Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”

The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.

“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.

Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.

Kara watched her every step.

Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.

---

There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.

After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.

---

Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.

Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.

---

Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.

#again i have no intention of finishing so be forewarned etc #supergirl #supercorp poalof au #i have been feeling a bit weird going through my old work bc. i don't think i've really improved in the three years since starting this??? #and i quite literally haven't written anything in 2023 other than like the 1000ish words to finish up this final chapter of tree of my song #&those thousand words genuinely feel worse than my old writing #because i'm out of practice i think #it's weird bc writing is something i think of as super important to me - like in less than a month i'll literally be at community college a #ain despite how bad my experience was last time with it bc i theoretically want to take classes that will make me a better writer #so like blah blah blah do i want to dedicate more of myself and my energy towards writing long term or do i just like the idea of being a #writer. #blah blah blah if i had to do a rose colored glasses on this all it would be. since january i have read 60something books and before this y #ar i hadnt been an avid reader in ages. and most of those books have been in the genre/niche i want to end up writing in #so i was learning writing by reading in that sense #hmm etc etc #i should probably stop taking myself and all of this so seriously lol idk #i'm theoretically back into writing and trying to prioritize it more again so (thumbs up emoji)

[satorhime]

. ･｡･ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ･｡･ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;

satoru is having a damn good day.

it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.

but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.

and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.

the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.

it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.

he would do anything to please his girls, after all.

“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.

“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”

“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”

“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”

“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”

“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”

but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.

“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.

oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.

it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.

“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”

“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.

“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.

“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.

“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.

ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.

whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.

“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”

“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.

“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.

satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.

“what ya got there, princess?”

“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”

“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”

“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”

“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.

“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”

“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.

“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.

“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.

you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.

“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”

“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.

but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—

“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.

october 30, 2018

the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.

four, no, five years?

his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.

while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—

“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”

“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.

“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—

“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”

“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.

or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”

he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.

“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”

“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”

“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”

“why? i don’t want to.”

your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.

“huh, that’s new.”

“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”

“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.

“do you need me?”

“what, you think i can’t handle her?”

“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”

he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.

her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.

he has to rip his gaze away.

“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”

“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”

“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”

“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.

you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.

“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”

she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.

“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.

“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”

“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”

satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”

“okinawa.”

“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”

a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.

time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.

you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”

#little novels. #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo angst

[mikeywayarchive]

Mikey Way: “I was borderline terrified a lot of the time My Chemical Romance was active. I was learning the bass in front of 20,000 people every night!”

By Gregory Adams ( Bass Player ) published June 9th 2023

The reunited emo kings’ low-end ranger reveals why he swapped out his signature Fender Mustang for a sparkling new signature Jazz Bass, learning bass in arenas, and how he overcame insecurity about his chops

Full interview under cut:

My Chemical Romance’s reunion has seen bassist Mikey Way thrumming through the high pomp punk of The Black Parade and Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge favorites with a familiar rhythmic fortitude, but keen-eyed band obsessives have probably noticed the musician is no longer sporting the snazzy, silver-flake Squier Mustang signature model Fender built for him back in 2012. 

The good news is that’s because, as Fender have just formally announced, Way has a brand-new – but just as glammy – Jazz Bass out now. There’s a good reason why Way’s made the switch: the Jazz Bass is his first love.

Though he started out on guitar, Way got the hang of a four-string in the mid ‘90s while playing a loaned-out Jazz Bass in his pre-My Chemical Romance project, Ray Gun Jones. He upgraded to a silver-finish Jazz of his own by the time MCR started touring in the early ‘00s, but a trailer mishap led to that instrument getting smashed to pieces on a highway.

Way tells Guitar World that he eventually became obsessed with the short-scale sturdiness of a Mustang bass guitar as My Chemical Romance were writing their 2010 full-length, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, after fooling around with a model Duff McKagan had left at North Hollywood’s Mates Rehearsal Studio. By 2012, Way had his Squier model in stores.

It was during the downtime after My Chemical Romance went on hiatus in 2013, though, that the stubbiness of his Mustang became a little hard to handle.

“I stayed away from playing bass for a little while, which is natural – I was just decompressing,” Way explains. “Then, sometime in 2014, I picked up the bass again, to get my chops back, [but] I noticed that the Mustang felt strange to me.” 

After reaching out to the folks at Fender, Way got a grip on his playing by stretching out on the longer-necked Jazzes they sent him. Way’s take on the Jazz Bass is outfitted with ’70s-style single-coil pickups, and a thinline “C”-shaped maple neck the bassist says is super-speedy.

The finish is silver, of course, but Way also wanted an aesthetically inkier black pickguard. The headstock, likewise, pops with its matching gloss-black finish.

Speaking with Guitar World, Way gets into the glam and grunge gods who inspired his love of a good sparkle coat, overcoming performance anxiety, and why a steady attack wins the bass race every time.

What were some of the musts when it came to designing this latest signature?

“I’ve been obsessed with the sparkle finish as far back as I can remember. Growing up in the ‘90s, the silver-flake [finish] was big in alternative music. Chris Cornell had the Gretsch Silver Jet, [Daniel Johns] from Silverchair had one – [with] the imagery the Smashing Pumpkins used, they liked sparkles.

“Ace Frehley, of course, was big into flake finishes, and as a kid, you love the larger-than-life, comic book world of Kiss. [And there’s] David Bowie – the glam rock stuff. That flake finish makes me think of so many different things, but that’s why I love it so much.

“I remember being younger and going into stores and seeing a flake finish and being like, 'Oh my god, that’s an expensive [looking guitar] – I can’t afford that, let alone play it.' It was almost intimidating.”

One aesthetic difference between your Mustang model and this Jazz is that you didn’t throw a racing stripe on this one.

“I thought about bringing it back and keeping the continuity. Maybe somewhere down the line we’ll throw a racing stripe on this. The thing with [seeing a] racing stripe was always like, 'This player is a badass!'”

Is there a psychology behind removing the racing stripe, then?

“The psychology behind it is that I forgot about it. When My Chemical Romance was talking about doing reunion shows [in 2019], I’d contacted Michael Schulz from Fender and was like, 'Is it OK if I make a new bass for this [next] era of My Chemical Romance?' I wanted to take my past and bring it to the future – taking my Mustang and melding it with the Jazz Basses that I loved so much. 

“I tried to have my cake and eat it, too. I wanted the thinner neck, and I wanted the silver-flake, but I wanted it on a Jazz Bass. They knocked it out of the park immediately.”

Getting back to how you used to admire those silver-flake guitars in the shops, you actually started out as a guitarist, right?

“So, the story goes that my brother [My Chemical Romance vocalist Gerard Way] had a Sears acoustic guitar when he was 10 years old. We would take a shoelace and make a strap, and we would stand on the couch pretending we were in Iron Maiden. And then it got real around ’93-’94, which lines up with the rise of alternative music. You started to see people that looked exactly like you, and they were playing guitar. They were playing Fender Strats! 

“My brother got a Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue. I found it not too long ago, and Michael from Fender hot-rodded it. That’s how I cut my teeth – that Mexican Stratocaster [was] my first foray into really trying to learn how to play guitar. I would watch bootlegs of concerts, and watch [guitarists’] hands and fingers – Thom Yorke, Billy Corgan, Noel Gallagher, Jonny Greenwood. I would watch what they were doing. It all started from that.

“Bass came out of necessity, twice. Me and my brother had a band called Ray Gun Jones, I guess in ’95-’96. It was kind of Weezer-ish, or us doing a surf-punk thing [with] a little bit of pre-mid-west emo. At the time we were really into Weezer, Jawbreaker, Promise Ring, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, Sunny Day Real Estate. 

“[Ray Gun Jones] needed a bass player, so my brother was like 'Hey, do you want to play bass for my band?' I was already a huge fan – I’d always tag along to practices. The ex-bass player let me borrow their bass. We had 4-5 songs, and I got the rudimentary from that. In that era, everyone was like, 'I want to be a guitar hero,' but I realized I had a natural knack for [bass]. I picked it up right away. 

“Then, with My Chemical Romance, it was the same thing. My brother was like, 'We need a bass player,' and I was like, 'Well, this is familiar' [laughs]. 'Here’s the demo; learn these songs.' They weren’t terribly difficult.”

Was that bass you had borrowed a Fender Jazz?

“Yup, I’ve only ever played Fender. I’ve tried tons of other basses from other companies, but it always feels alien to me.”

You mentioned studying the playing of Thom Yorke or Billy Corgan through those bootleg vids. Were there any bassists that you treated similarly, to understand the mechanics of bass?

“Matt Sharp from Weezer. I tried to ape him in the beginning, but my attack sounds vaguely reminiscent of a Smashing Pumpkins recording. I would learn Siamese Dream and Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, and the Blue Album [the band’s 1994 self-titled debut] by Weezer. Those were the three albums that I put the most time into learning. That’s in my DNA.”

How about from a hyper-local perspective. If My Chemical Romance started out playing New Jersey basements and VFW halls, where there any bassists from that scene that inspired you, or that you appreciated?

“Yes! We shared a rehearsal space with this band called Pencey Prep – that was [MCR guitarist] Frank Iero’s original band. John McGuire was their bassist, and he let me borrow his equipment all the time. He taught me fundamentals, and gave me pointers – he taught me a whole heck of a lot. 

“I always respected Tim Payne from Thursday, I loved his attack and stage presence. And when I’d watch Gabe Saporta from Midtown, I thought 'This dude is the coolest guy in the room.' He’s got this calm, cool, and collected [presence] that you can’t fake or learn. And then Eben D’amico from Saves the Day – brilliant! 

“I would try to learn Saves the Day basslines. They were pretty complex [compared to] what most bands were doing in that scene. Most bands in the post-hardcore scene had simplistic basslines, but Saves the Day did not.

“There’s also Ray Toro, the guitar player of My Chemical Romance. Not only is he truly gifted at guitar, but he’s truly gifted at bass and drums – Ray can do everything. He was instrumental, early on, with showing me the ropes. Ray gave me lessons when I was a novice. I can’t thank him enough for that.”

What kind of pointers was he giving you?

“He showed me proper fretting, or [how to maintain] a steady attack. I got a really great compliment from our front-of-house guy, Jay Rigby. He told me that I’m one of the very few bass players that he doesn’t have to go in and tweak the volume [for]. 'You’re steady, throughout.' I think that’s something that Ray Toro instilled in me: the consistency of attack. 

“It’s funny thinking about it, but I was such a novice going into My Chemical Romance that I would bring myself into an anxiety-ridden state of, 'Oh my god, we have a show tonight; I have to start practicing right now.' I would be practicing four to five hours before we played – I’d play the set [in the green room], and then I’d play it again. Other bands would be like, 'What are you doing?' I was so neurotic at that point, because there were so many people around me that were beyond gifted. 

“I got pushed into the deep end; you’ve got no choice but to figure it out. Ray and Frank are so gifted that I had to keep up. I didn’t want to ever do the music a disservice.

“That brings me back to the simplicity of the early My Chem basslines. The first album [2002’s I Brought You Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love] was me learning the bass, and somehow [producer] John Naclerio recorded me and said, 'You did a great job,' which I did not expect. 

“I thought I was going to go in there and they were going to have to do some studio magic, or someone would come in and play [my] part. I thought of the worst-case scenario, but I went in and did it. I played the bass seriously [enough] by that point.”

What are you generally looking for in a My Chemical Romance bassline? 

“What makes it for me is if I do a fill, I’ll only do it once. If you listen to [the band's 2022 comeback single] The Foundations of Decay, any fill on there I only do one time. What’s interesting about The Foundations of Decay is that it’s very loose and run-and-gun. We went in and punched things in for timing, which everyone in the world does, but the meat of that is first-or-second take. Which brings me to someone else who was very instrumental to my bass playing: Doug McKean.

“He’s no longer with us, unfortunately, but he was our engineer from The Black Parade [until his passing in 2022]. He was always a huge cheerleader for me – he instilled confidence in me. He was always good at getting a killer performance out of me.”

What are some of the biggest My Chemical Romance bass moments for you?

“I’ll say that fill in on Foundations. No-one saw that coming.”

There’s a YouTube video out there of someone playing their favorite Mikey Way basslines, some while using your signature Squier Mustang, but one standout in particular is The Black Parade’s The Sharpest Lives.

“What’s funny is Sharpest Lives has a bass solo, and I was terrified of it. I had performance anxiety [through] the 12 years before we broke up – I don’t have it anymore. Somehow when the band got back together, a switch in my brain [got] flipped. [But] while My Chem was active, I was borderline terrified a lot of the time.

“I’m playing with people far above my skill level, I’m playing [on bills] with bands where their bass players are way better than me, [and] our shows were getting massive. We were playing arenas! So not only are you learning the bass, but you’re learning the bass in front of 20,000 people every night. It made me tweak a little, but I think it shaped me into what I became.

“That solo gave me anxiety. It was when we were playing the biggest venues of our career, and it would break for the solo [Way starts singing his ascending bass lick]. I practiced it relentlessly, then it [became] second nature. Later on, it [became my favorite part of the show.”

You’re already playing the Jazz signature in your live show, yeah?

“It’s what I use for the live show. Basically, Fender built [it] for the reunion, and then we made a couple tweaks for when we release it.”

Was there a learning curve at all towards transferring My Chemical Romance songs you’d written on a Mustang onto the Jazz?

“There was Planetary (GO!), a song off Danger Days. I’d guess you’d say the whole thing is a disco beat. It’s dance-y – [Mikey starts singing an octave-popping bassline], I do that for the entirety of the song. I was very happy that I only had to do that on a Mustang, initially [because of the shorter scale]. But going back to what I said, [after] I took a little break, [I] went back to a Jazz Bass. 

“I missed the room, or the way my hand went up and down the neck. I wanted to go back to that, so I jumped back in and felt right at home again.”

How many Jazzes are you bringing on the road?

“I bring two basses out, [but] I stopped even switching [during the set]. This is a testament to Fender craftsmanship – that thing stays in tune. It’s got the four-saddle bridge, and it stays in tune so well. I’m a little neurotic so I’ll tune every few songs, but if I went five to six songs you probably wouldn’t even notice.”

What does it mean to you to now have a fully-formed Fender signature model – as opposed to the Squier – and with the body shape you began your career with?

“It’s really a dream come true. It’s funny, in 2002-3 we started touring across the country. I had a Mexican Jazz Bass, but [the band] were like, 'You have to use something with better electronics; better wood. Step it up!' So, I went into the Guitar Center on Route 46 in New Jersey, and at the time Fender had released a special Guitar Center edition that was silver-flake. 

“It always bugged me that the pickguard was white – it threw me off, aesthetically, and I was like, 'I’m going to change that pickguard one day.' So, I got that, and I was using that for a while. 

“We were out with [Boston emo quartet] Piebald – it was one of our first cross-country tours ever – and one night someone forgot to close the trailer door. We’re driving on the highway, and half the contents spilled out – unfortunately, my bass was a casualty of that.

“But Frank Iero, and his heart of gold, jumped out on the highway in the middle of the night and tried to recover [the bass]. He was like, 'Maybe we can fix it!' I’ll never forget him doing that. He got a chunk of it – it’s in one of our storage units.”

For more information on the Limited Edition Mikey Way Jazz Bass, head to Fender.com.

#mikey way #gw #fi #rt #whole gang #michael schulz #doug mckean #fender #mcr #return #interview #guitar world #bass player #2023 #jun 2023 #6/9/23 #limited edition jazz bass #the foundations of decay #song: the foundations of decay #the sharpest lives #song: the sharpest lives #planetary (go!) #song: planetary (go!) #text #originals

[fillinforlater]

It’s that time of the year again. What are some of your favorite smuts released in 2023?

Monday of Appreciation: Part 104

Hello everyone, Smite here!

2023 is coming to a close and it's been quite the year, a mixture of "this is a bridge year for greater things to come" and "WE LIVIN' NOW MF!" What is a bit different this year is that the highs weren't as high and the lows weren't as low compared to previous years---maybe that is just me getting older, maybe it's hindsight. Either way, I'm good and this year was good.

But some things are more than just good. I'm of course talking about these writers and their stories that I have featured today. All of them deserve special mention, but I want to focus on two of them specifically.

In a year of great, fantastic and already legendary fics, these two stand out.

Without further ado, let's dive into the final MoA of this year:

-1-

@fanfiction4sooya: Can't Save You Now ft. Chaewon, Kazuha, Sakura

I- I- I just read the damn tags and new I one day had to give this a shot. ff4sooya has crazy ideas, futa galore, different dynamics and kinks, which is SO MY THING. This has Mommy and Daddy involved in an absurd (and absurdly hot) threesome that I couldn't take my eyes off.

Now I definitely need to read more and you should too because I bet there are a bunch of Masterpieces in that long Masterlist!

-2-

@iznsfw: Drunken ft. Olivia Hye

Is it really a Monday of Appreciation post without IZ?

Seriously, what this genius is able to cook up in a commission or in the currently ongoing (HYPE) IZ DAYS OF CHRISTMAS is absolutely incredible. We have long stories with in depth characters and love drama that ends not only smuttily but sweetly. Who the fuck needs books, when you can just binge IZ?

With "Drunken", they have once again hit it out of the FUCKIING park. There is never enough Daddy kink fics, yes, but mine seem like nonsensical cringe porn compared to this beauty of a piece. I love how it plays with my heart, no I'm not crying---okay, now that is hot.

Let me change that: there is three very fucking special stories today!

(I think this might even be better than Levi's Hyeju, wtf)

-3-

@cataboliac: Enkindle ft. Wendy

Firstly: I LOVE YOU CATA, BIG QT!

Secondly: "Enkindle" feels a bit like coming home, like a day in Paradise, like the one person that shines so bright in your life that you don't want it to go. And you know, that is the great thing: this might be Cata's final fic, the farewell, but not only is his life gonna be great and he'll be super happy - we also get to read this again and again, and I'm sure I will one day.

Thank you, Cata, for hanging around!

Thirdly: I'M GONNA KISS YOU, CATA!

-4-

@writerpeach: Delectation ft. Wonyoung, Yujin

1.000 Notes, and it's still not enough for what is my pick for fic of the year (FOTY? FOOTY? There is a scene like that, yep). IZ*ONE truly never dies, but it is IVE and these absolute super stars, bomb shells with flawless faces and different, yet irresistible bodies that have us in a frenzy.

Talking about frenzy, all those 30,699 words are a frenzy. I thought Peach would set it up with a long and painful tease that has us edging the entire time BUT NOPE this has so much fucking smut, so many lines of neediness and horniness, it is impossible to finish in one try or two tries or... I dunno, seven-hundred tries?

It's detailed, it's straight forward, it's sex from every fucking angle, I can never get tired of this. I will go so far and say this is Peach's magnum opus, the GOAT fic by the GOAT writer. At least for that day, I can say this without a doubt.

Peach, you are crazy and thank you for that <3

#PeachPavedTheWay #AnnyeongzForDaddy

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #ive smut #izone smut #male reader insert #male reader #idol x idol smut #red velvet smut #wendy smut #loona smut #loosemble smut #olivia hye smut #hyeju smut #wonyoung smut #chaewon smut #yujin smut #sakura smut #le sserafim kazuha smut

[fozmeadows]

hey. i think i'm going through a phase of self-hatred and… I don't know, of believing I'm not capable of anything. would you have any tips or books that approach this from an AFAB/trans perspective so I can cope? (it's not that I hate myself for being trans. I just have insecurities, anxieties and I don't know what to do to stop most things from seeming so discouraging, for lack of a better word.)

I'm sorry you're having a hard time! I don't have any book recommendations, and I'm not exactly an expert, but:

Where possible, try to focus on what you enjoy about the process of an action instead of worrying about the end result. A lot of anxiety comes from privileging a hypothetical future version of yourself ahead of the person you are in the moment, and while it's still good to have goals and aspirations for the future, that doesn't render your present self irrelevant, because that's who you have to be to achieve them.

To give a personal example: late last year, I was really disappointed with how little reading I'd managed to get done in 2023 particularly, but also over the pandemic. I'd bought all these awesome books that I really wanted to read, but I never seemed to get around to starting most of them, and meanwhile, I was spending hours of my life mindlessly doomscrolling Twitter and TikTok, which regardless of anything else is a really good way to depress yourself about the state of the world. So I sat down and thought about it, and I realized that the problem was how much pressure I was putting on myself about reading. I wanted so badly to finish books that I was psyching myself out of starting them in the first place, because each choice had to be Perfect, lest I pick the wrong book at the wrong time and waste twenty minutes or an hour or three reading something I might later set aside. And because I'd subconsciously set the stakes for starting a book so much higher than they needed to be, I'd end up dithering and scrolling social media to delay having to make a high-pressure choice at all.

In other words: I'd become so concerned about Future Foz's hypothetical dislike of a book I was yet to start reading that Present Foz would be scared to start it in the first place. I was forever privileging a version of myself that didn't exist and likely never would over the person I was now, and it was making me wildly unhappy, because it felt like I was failing at something I loved.

So my single New Years' Resolution became: to value myself and my time in the moment. If I catch myself scrolling for too long, I ask myself: is there literally anything else I'd rather be doing right now? Could I start a TV show, or a book, or a game, or write something, or message a friend, or have a bath? It doesn't matter if the activity goes anywhere long term; what matters is that I inevitably get more pleasure out of doing something than not. My time now matters, because I matter.

And suddenly, just from that one change? For the first time in I couldn't even say how long, I've read something every single day this year. In the whole of 2023, I read just 67 books; it's now the 30th of March 2024, and I've already finished 33. By giving myself permission to start things without the pressure to finish them, I'm suddenly finishing way more than when I was telling myself I had to finish everything, and I am vastly happier for it.

Is the world still a burning hellscape that daily makes me want to yeet a solid 80% of elected politicians globally into the sun? Yes. Am I still working on self-improvement in other areas of my life? Yes. Is it magically any easier being trans and queer in the current moment? No. But it helps to focus on who I am now, in this hour, in this minute, instead of worrying so much about whether some future version of me will think I spent this time badly that I don't use it for anything at all.

I don't know if this is helpful to your situation, and if it's not, I apologize for rambling. But it's a little change I've made lately that's helped me a lot, and I hope it might help you, too.

#foz answers things #self help #anxiety #self improvement #self care #reading

[velvethopewrites]

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro.  There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate. 

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once.  As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle. 

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy.  They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow.  Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…”  Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah) 

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

#suptober23 #destiel #prompt:starlight #dean and cas #meet-cute #my writing #biting nails here #like posting stuff is scary #wth #I am not used this anymore #castiel #dean winchester

[hockeylovee12]

A Closed Book-Luke Hughes

Summary: you and Luke had been dating for a year long distance and in secret but now that he’s in New Jersey permanently it gets a little harder to keep a secret.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Sex

Luke Hughes had always been a very private person even to the people close to him. His brothers like to tease him and say he’s a closed book with about 17,000 different locks.

Personally Luke didn’t mind he knew he is a private person and you quickly realized that and had no problems with it. Sure you would have liked to post your boyfriend and engage in all the conversation with your friends when they brought up their own but at the same time you loved the idea of having someone and something special that you never had to talk about or share with the world. Something that was only yours and that’s what Luke was.

The two of you met one of the first times Luke had came to visit his older brother Jack. You were only 17 at the time and Luke was nearly 19. The two of you hit it off at a coffee shop that was close to your high school. Luke and you exchanged numbers and when you turned 18 you two made it official.

After finishing high school you choose to stay in state so the first few months of being official you two were long distance. It was a lot of work a lot of late night phone calls and texts but you made it work and it was worth it.

Now Luke has officially signed with the New Jersey devils and he’s here permanently and you’re both thrilled.

November 7th marks the date of both your birthday and your one year anniversary so Luke wanted to do something special unfortunately the Devils had a four day road trip the last game being against St Louis on the 7th but two days later they were home for a game against the Pittsburgh penguins and even better they had the next day off.

So knowing Luke’s brother would go out after the game with his teammates probably to a bar which Luke couldn’t join because he is only 20 Luke had the brilliant plan of spending an evening in together and you were all for it.

11/09/2023 Jack and Luke’s Apartment

The devils won in overtime leading the score 5-4. Luke had a pretty good game he had a single assist for which he was proud of and after the game the two brothers headed back to their apartment.

“Luke are you sure you don’t wanna come out with us you know we can get you into the bar it’s not a big deal” Jack offers his younger brother

“Nah it’s ok I’m kinda tired anyway I’m probably just gonna order a pizza and watch some tv you go have fun” Luke says

Jack looks at his little brother with a slight smile while he couldn’t be more happy to have his brother playing with him and living with him apart of him wishes Luke would go out more often because he doesn’t hang out with the team as much as Jack does.

“Also what time you think you’re gonna be back?” Luke asks trying to ask as casually as possible so he knows how long he has with his girlfriend

“Um I don’t know I think we’re gonna hit a few bars see where the night goes I’ll probably be around 3” Jack says

“All right see you later” Luke says waving his brother goodbye as his brother leaves the shared apartment

Almost immediately Luke pulls out his phone and sends you a text.

Then Luke heads to his room to take a shower and get dressed. He puts on a pair of blue jeans and a white t shirt that you told him makes his muscles look big.

Beep beep

From Y/N❤️

I’m here

Luke walks outside his room and comes gets you from the hallway.

“Hey there” Luke says wrapping his arm around you and pulling you inside.

Once the door shuts Lukes lips immediately find there way to yours.

The next three hours the two of you spend your time watching movies cuddling and eating Chinese takeout.

Near the end of the 2nd movie Luke whispers in your ear and asks if you want to go to his room.

A smirk appears on your face and you nod.

“I’ll be right there” Luke says

You walk to Lukes room while he throws out the trash and cleans up before meeting you in the bedroom where he sees you in a gorgeous black lacy bra.

Luke shuts the door with his foot and walks towards you picking you up and placing you on the bed.

Luke takes off his shirt and throws it on the ground then starts unbuttoning your pants and slips them off of you and starts making his way down your stomach with kisses and stops right before he gets to your pussy making you let out a frustrated sigh causing him to smirk

Luke leans over you and reaches into his night stand and grabs a condom

You watch as Luke takes off the rest of his clothes and rolls on a condom then he regains his previous position and starts rubbing his hands on your body. Soon he grips the sides of your panties and yanks them down. Before roughly pushing himself into you.

You let a loud moan.

“Luke” You moan out as Luke continues thrusting in and out of you. Within minutes you both cum and Luke rests his head on your stomach both panting a little bit.

“You ok?” He asks after a minute

“I’m great” You smirk

After laying down for about an hour the two of you decide to take a shower which results in more sex under the warm water.

Around 3am Luke checks his phone

“Oh shit Jack’s gonna be back soon” he says

You quickly realize what he said and jump up quickly putting on your clothes as he does the same.

Once your both dressed the two of you walk out of his room and back into the living room.

“I love you” Luke says pulling you in for a kiss

“I love you too” You reply

“What the hell?” A voice says and the lights flicker on

You both jump seeing Jack standing there

“Jack jeez I didn’t hear you come in” Luke says with an arm still wrapped around you

“Who’s this?” He asks

“Um this is uh” Luke starts to say

“I’m Y/N” you introduce

“Are you dating her?” Jack asks

Luke and I both look at each other

“Um well ya” he says after a moment of silence

Jack looks at him

“How long?” He asks taking a sip of water

“It was a year on the 7th” Luke replies

“A year?!!” Jack exclaims

“How the hell did you keep this a secret for a year?!!”

“Well um you know I’m like a closed book”

“Alright I’m gonna go to bed but it’s late so you both should as well” Jack says walking towards his room

“You wanna spend the night?” Luke asks

“Sure” you reply and the two of you head back to Lukes room and you strip and take one of his t shirts and put it on.

Luke changes into sweats and you both lay down in bed with your head on his bare chest.

A few minutes later the door opens and Jack steps in

“This door stays open all night” Jack says

Luke takes a pillow off the ground and throws it a Jack causing him to laugh

“Goodnight Luke and goodnight Y/N” Jack says retreating back to his own room and leaving the door wide open.

#luke hughes #umich hockey #hughes brothers #jack hughes #feel free to interact #one shot #nj devils

[steamberrystudio]

19/11/2023

Hey everyone! Time for the bi-weekly tumblr update for Steamberry stuffs!

Summary

Finished writing all routes up through the end of chapter 9

Started working on editing for now

Added in-game achievements

Received some new BG art

Ramble

Okay, so writing-wise, I wrote Yren's content up through the end of chapter 9. Also revamped my end-route summaries for Yren and Raif.

The current word count is 426,000 words.

But I decided to hold off on finishing the endings for the four remaining routes. The main reason for this is that I have planned a lot of early-story changes that are going to shift the trajectory of the route endings. And I was really struggling with how to construct the route endings with those planned changes in a more nebulous state.

I usually try to avoid working out of order because I find it is not conducive to forward progress. But there are some points when you have to break the rules and go back to make important edits because you need them there in order to be able to move forward.

I'm kind of at that point.

So I decided I would fully edit Asher's route, which will allow me to inject all those planned changes into the story which will make it much easier to construct endings that call back to that earlier foreshadowing.

So writing-wise, that's what I've been doing this week. I am currently up to Chapter 6 in the edit (which means I'm a little less than half through the route).

Other Stuff:

I have received new BGs of course. Those are coming in at a fairly steady rate of 1.5 - 2 weeks each.

I also have decided to add in-game achievements to WSC. I've been thinking about it for a while but putting it off since I know that one more screen (like an achievements gallery) means more tweaks to the UI. But I finally sucked it up and did it anyway.

I've also been playing with a colour slider for Wil's sprite. I'm not going to go into detail about it here because I've talked about it more in depth on Patreon and will continue to post most of the details there.

But the idea is that instead of choosing from 3 skin tones and 2 hair colours, there would be colour sliders allowing for a much greater range of selection. One of the big concerns with colour sliders is whether or not the recolours can be made to look as good as recolouring manually - which has always been why I've stayed away from them. 

The more complex shading styles have always struggled with colour sliders. But a developer friend - Feniks - has made a really cool and dynamic shader that actually can recreate even painterly or non-outlined art styles with incredible accuracy.

Using a slider is really useful because it increases the variations the player gets while *reducing* my work load. Instead of having to recolour manually, I would actually only need to colour everything once in grey scale.

Of course, it's not as easy as just dumping in the code and art. It requires some experimentation and learning but right now it is looking like I will be able to make it work. So I may be able to show off some examples in the future.

Screenshots:

None this time...

Upcoming Weeks:

I am currently editing Chapter 6 of asher/common routes and there are some pretty substantial edits I have to make.

It's always tricky to estimate what I will get done editing wise because editing does not flow at a more or less even pace like writing. Chapter 5, 6, and 7 had (and will have) major updates and changes so it may take a while to get through them. Though I'm already through with Ch 5. So...that's one of three.

Anyway.

And I'm also working on the GS lore book, still (LoL. 🙃). Someone today reminded me that I still need to go through all the deleted content to see if anything is salvageable for the lore book too.

😭

Thank you so much to that person (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. And you need to answer for your crimes, my friend.) 👀

#gilded shadows #whenstarscollide #indie otome #amare game #devlog #updates

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Weeks in Review (September 10-30, 2023)

I adore Godzilla Final Wars, but it's a movie with an identity crisis, unsure whether it wants to be headlining a Toho Champion Festival or mesmerizing American teenagers at a mid-aughts multiplex. @spacehunter-m's Final Wars 2004: The Year We Make Corn-Tack gives it a strong tug in the first direction, whittling the runtime down to 77 minutes and replacing most of the music and sound effects. She was inspired by Space Warriors 2000, of all things; as she put it, both films are "largely comprised of nonstop, monotonous action." As in that bizarro Ultraman compilation film, the kaiju trash-talk each other. It makes you wonder why Ryuhei Kitamura didn't at least bring back the speech bubbles from Godzilla vs. Gigan. Kaiju fan edits are rare, and this is in a class all by itself. Download it here.

Shigeru Kayama's novelizations of Godzilla (1954) and Godzilla Raids Again are out—hopefully the first of many to come. My copy only arrived on Saturday, so I haven't had the chance to read the whole thing yet, but I've made it through Godzilla. It's interesting to see Kayama, who wrote the initial treatment, take another swing at the story after the film was finished. He puts back moments like Godzilla eating a cow and attacking a lighthouse, and is also more overt with the wartime allusions. There's an incredible moment where Dr. Yamane muses that studying Godzilla and learning his secrets could be Japan's way of redeeming itself after "caus[ing] a great deal of trouble to people throughout the world." Note that these are novella-length, so much less in-depth than the novelizations of American Godzilla films you might be used to (Godzilla Raids Again is less than 80 pages). The book ends with an afterword by translator Jeffrey Angles contextualizing the tales.

Godzilla: War for Humanity continues to be a standout IDW miniseries. There's a new and very weird monster in the second issue, plus a no-nonsense Mothra (she tries to recruit Godzilla to fight Zoospora by shooting him in the back of the head and dragging him into the ocean in front of Minilla).

I've also got to mention the solicitation for another Godzilla Rivals installment, due December 20. Nola Pfau is writing, Megan Huang is illustrating.

Jen Onça is not excited to start her new, fast-paced fast-food career at Minilla Burger, but she'd much prefer a mundane day to the sudden return of Megalon! The monster brings destruction, trapping Jen in a forgotten lab deep beneath the restaurant with only the half-built form of Jet Jaguar to help her get out! She must repair the robotic defender to save herself and the city, but first she needs to escape the rubble trapping her in this tense adventure!

Yuzo the Biggest Battle in Tokyo, Yoshikazu Ishii's follow-up to Attack of the Giant Teacher, has also been picked up by SRS Cinema. No release details yet. I can't really speak to the film either, since it screened at the same time as Yumiko Shaku's panel at G-Fest, but as you can see from the poster, it's set during the pandemic.

The GAMERA -Rebirth- Gyaos has joined Godzilla Battle Line as an unusual sort of swarm unit. Your first summon of the match calls forth two sub-adults, and by the fifth summon you're sending out two sub-adults and three adults, still for four energy. They're probably the best swarm in the game, though still highly vulnerable to AOE units like Godzilla '01. I'm having fun with them in the Challenge Battles.

Notzilla, one of the sharpest kaiju comedies out there, is unexpectedly getting the graphic novel treatment. Mitch Teemley is adapting his own screenplay, with art by Zumart Putra. The comic is already finished, although I'm not clear on how folks who didn't back the Kickstarter (which wrapped on September 11) will get it. Useless trivia: the terrific cover above (one of four) is by Ben Dunn, who wrote the How to Draw Manga book I poured over in middle school.

After Troll shattered Netflix streaming records (according to Netflix), it's not super surprising that the company wants a sequel. Priority one: coming up with a title that's not Troll 2. Screenwriter Espen Aukan and director Roar Uthaug will both return.

Toy highlights of the past few weeks:

After confusing everyone by teasing its silhouette the day before April Fools', Tamashii has fully unveiled an S.H.Monsterarts Godzilla '72, a rare Showa figure from the line. It comes with two heads, one of them bloodied (see above). Due at the end of February.

After finally running out of ways to repaint their mold of Hedorah's Perfect Stage, Bandai is making a Movie Monster Series figure of the kaiju's Landing Stage. A Godzilla Store exclusive, it'll be released October 25.

After over two years, Funko is releasing a trio of Godzilla Singular Point Pops. Hopefully they go all-out with this show—it's not like there's any other plausible way for a Satomi Kanahara figure to exist.

#godzilla #kaiju week in review #godzilla final wars #troll #notzilla #gyaos #yuzo the biggest battle in tokyo #kaiju

[beltransadie]

Small tidbits about my Still Into You 2ha animatic

Coz it's April, exactly one year from now was when I started completing it and I'm in the mood now. + I don't think I made a proper one + it won the twitter poll

Check it out if you're interested... or not! I just want to dump my thoughts and fun facts that I thought of while making this.

To preface this, check them out if you haven't seen it yet: (Still Into You & Please Don't Leave Me)

If you've been hanging around my blog for a while, it's kinda evident that I did post a promo post for Still Into You back in January 2023. And that first part does have an in-depth explanation about what it covers (which is from the start to the first chorus).

If you're wondering why: TL;DR I can't work on An Act of Kindness coz I was back home from school for vacation and I thought of the idea during a trip.

Anyway, I ramble. Time to get to the actual discussion.

(spoilers!!) The Actual Discussion

Making the rest of Still Into You, unlike Mo Ran's feelings for CWN, was actually just straightforward. I already knew that it'd cover the rest of the book, given that I intentionally focused heavily on book 1 while making part 1.

Like part 1, part 2 was that type of animatic that just naturally flowed during the storyboarding and rough sketch process. The whole animatic is divided into three phases which covers the following: Book 1, Book 2 and 3, and lastly the Epilogue.

Book 1 I've already discussed in an earlier post here but I did find this interesting tidbit I wrote to my cousin:

Anyways the discussion:

Yeah I really wish I have a funny image to put here. I'm really enjoying looking back at my stuff and seeing my initial plans though.

Order at which I made each part.

One thing of note (and actually a common oversight I experience while doing storyboards coz I don't do timings) was that I storyboarded the frames when the vocals started and forgot the timings in between.

So I kinda had to fill the parts between part 1 and 2 last-ish? (don't really remember the proper timings).

Oh, oh! And another fun fact:

Still Into You Part 2 (Rough Draft)

Part 2 was initially done on my tablet in CSP so there's a whole different and rougher version of it. (pls lower the volume if you're wearing earphones)

Funnily enough, this took me like one sitting to finish and a whole lot of sessions to clean up. I do like this process though given that, around the time I drew this, I started leaning heavily into animation and prioritizing getting my thoughts across without care for cleanliness. (Something I felt held me back too much while making Please Don't Leave Me).

In fact, there are some obvious frames that I didn't really bother polishing up (mostly because they're too hard for me or they just flash by quickly). A glaring example is this frame from the third part:

Another fun fact about the scene where TXJ shows CWN the plant he's been raising is it's actually inspired off of a doodle I made for someone in the Two Lifetimes CSE back in April 16 2023.

I just really think that it's super adorable for them. Mo Ran in the the epilogue section alternates between TXJ and 2.0.

Aside from the plant, TXJ also appears in this frame which is inspired from one of the extras. Another silly intentional decision I did is to have him pour alcohol onto a cup and drink from the bottle.

Meanwhile 2.0 appears here:

The one on the left is also from (you guessed it) an extra! It's based from an offhand mention that CWN makes in one of them. (Let me know what your guesses are haha)

I kinda just jumped into the 3rd half of the song, huh? I hope my ramblings aren't too much! I just wanna let it flow naturally.

Returning to the topic of the storyboard, I really only had a rough idea of what I wanted for the 3rd half. The references to the extras and even Goutou's appearance just came when I was already putting it into frame. Like, this was what I initially had in mind for the 2nd chorus to the end.

I think one of the notable differences is that I initially planned on doing the half MR half CWN screen transition the same way i did with chorus 1 and 2 but decided against it. In retrospect, I think it fits a lot because both aren't divided anymore.

Something about the second verse + chorus of the song

Like in chorus 1 and chorus 3, this section of the song takes on a darker tone since it covers book 2 going into book 3. It's a lot to talk about so I'm gonna select a couple that I personally like that's worth mentioning and leave the rest to the viewers to guess.

Also sorry not sorry for those who got spoiled by the animatic lmao.

The confession scene

Another fun fact: The confession scene in Still Into You and Please Don't Leave Me are intentionally connected through the color palette.

It's just that Still Into You takes a dump at how it treats it. Yes, the stick figures are intentional. It adds to the funny and tbh Still Into You really is just a feel good animatic. The comedy also serves as a whiplash to the angst hell that is the chorus 🥰.

(Insert obligatory CWN running at a tree meme here)

My Favorite 2ha Moment

Gotta insert my favorite chapter here (ch 184) which I think is one of 2ha's peaks because it resolves CWN's doubts about MR's feelings all this times.

And I'm just soo glad I could incorporate it in an animatic because it's so important to me. AND Like, 'yknow, I think it echoes the song very well because guess what MR tells CWN then?

“It has always been you."

That one frame before the chorus

There's like this moment before the second chorus starts where MR tells CWN something. I wanted it to echo ch 207 where MR felt the pressure of having to reveal that he actually is reborn and has memories of his past life.

If this were animated I'd have had MR match the song and tell CWN "I'm still into you".

Anyways, here's the frame before it zooms in. Physically it's still at ch 207, but I wanted the shadows to imply what happens next which is the chorus.

Other Bonus stuff

Ran out of stuff I wanna gush about so Imma talk about cut content.

XM and the MHX twins are supposed to have more frames (I didn't include it because it felt like it had too much energy)

2. Ling'er and the village ranwan visits during farm arc is also supposed to make an appearance

3. I forgot to animate the butterflies

4. I was supposed to polish the sequence at 2:41 - 2:51 at one point.

5. Fuck ow

6. CWN was supposed to glomp MR at the reunion scene

7. You and I

anyways go watch it

#2ha #erha #ranwan #danmei

[notoriousbeb]

Why is Harry Styles All Over TTPD? A Timeline

TTPD Notes Glossary

Upon much ponderation and rabbit-hole-ing I think a truly stunning chunk of tracks on this double album (18/19) are about Harry.  

What will likely be my Haylor magnum opus is under the cut because it is a bit lengthy. Good luck. Or I'm sorry??

I think they both pined for each other for years (well documented amongst the Haylors).  

Then she split with Joe Alwyn before she left London for the Eras Tour, but she waited to make the announcement public (probably to give him time to pack up his shit and get out of their shared house) until April 8. However, excited to be “Fresh Out the Slammer,” she reached out to Harry ASAP.  

I realize I might sound like an absolute raving lunatic, but I legit think Harry was at Taylor’s Arlington, Texas, Eras Tour shows, at the end of March/beginning of April 2023, and followed her to New York City for several days. 

While Harry was tied up finishing up the Asian leg of his tour until March 25, I think he came almost straight to her after that, and love-bombed the shit out of her in his excitement.

But then right before he had to leave for tour, with a stopover in LA for the Satellite video and Late Late Show shoots, he gave her some sort of pulling-away speech about taking a pause or pulling back or something, (I’d wager because of the two world tours), which she took as a total rejection, which caused her to lose it and move on to the disaster we call Matty. 

Then, in June, he met Taylor Russell in London. And maybe they were just friends at first, but then Taylor Swift started messing around with Matty, and then in July she started dating Travis and it went public in September. So, I suppose at that point Harry figured, "Okay, to hell with it."  

And now, somewhere in London, I imagine their shared good mate, Ed Sheeran, has a pounding headache and wishes he still drank whiskey.  

I hope the truth of it all someday comes to light in a tell-all book or movie. Or, at the very least, it would be nice if some more clarity surfaces in one of their albums, or a record by Ed.  

Oh, and I think Stevie Nicks, of all fucking people, knows the tea. She considers both of them “like [her] children.” She gave them both matching crescent moon necklaces. And has performed with them. And she wrote the intro poem for this record. Read that and tell me it doesn’t match the story I’ve written in my head. Stevie knows.

And now, the timeline.

There are, I shit you not, about a fortnight of possible days (March 29/30-April 12, 2023) where they could have been together...

March 29/30

Harry likely leaves Toyko after his March 25 show. Love on Tour doesnt start up again until May 13 in Horsens, Denmark.

March 31

Eras Tour is in Arlington, Texas, for N1. It's a rain show. She replaces "Invisible String” with "The 1." The surprise songs were "Sad Beautiful Tragic" and "Ours." Read all my notes on TTPD and go watch these two live performances again. They're...really something.

April 1

She sings "Death by a Thousand Cuts" and "Clean."

April 2

She sings "Jump then Fall" and "The Lucky One."

April 3-6

Neither of them are seen these three days.

April 7

Harry is spotted at baggage claim in Atlanta

April 9

Harry is at the Master's Golf Tournament

April 10

Maybe this is when he leaves her. Taylor goes out for drinks with Jack and Margaret. However, this was an obvious pap walk (the day she had those butterfly jeans on); were the paps maybe called to this location to lure them away from her apartment so a certain person might or might not have could arrive unnoticed after a golf tournament in Atlanta?

April 12

In the afternoon, Harry is spotted with his trusty brown duffel bag (sporting an air travel tag) leaving the gym in LA. In NYC, Taylor is pictured on the roof of Electric Lady (maybe shooting music video?) with a Gucci lion ring just like Harry's but with a green stone. I Mr not the 10th, I think this evening was when he said whatever he said that made her so sad; maybe he thought they should take a pause until their tours were over? Maybe he decided their combined spotlights were just too big to overcome? Who knows? Not me. But my nosy ass wants to know!

April 13

Eras Tour in Tampa N1. Taylor cries during “Lover" and "Champagne Problems.” People think it's about Joe. I think it's not.

Stevie Nicks pens the poem for Taylor that opens this very album.

April 14

Eras Tour in Tampa N2. She plays "The Great War" (performed with Aaron Dessner) and "You're On Your Own, Kid."

April 15

Eras Tour in Tampa N2. She plays "Treacherous."

April 21

Eras Tour in Houston N1. She plays "Wonderland" and "You're Not Sorry" (these choices seem…significant. In a not good way.)

April 22

N2 in Houston. She plays "A Place in This World" and "Today Was a Fairytale" (for her mom, who I am sure was being a rock for her at this trying time)

April 23

N3 in Houston. She plays "Begin Again" and "Cold as You"

April 27 and 28

Harry does shoots for the "Satellite" music video and the last episode of the Late Late Show. The scenes for the music video aren't used. In my opinion his face looks puffy on Late Late (maybe from crying?)

Eras Tour Atlanta N1 Taylor sings "The Other Side of the Door" and "Coney Island."

April 30

Eras Tour Atlanta N3 she sings "I Bet You Think About Me" and "How You Get the Girl." She cries again during “Champagne Problems."

May 5-7

Ah, the Nashville Era's Tour shows. Such fond, fond memories. She sang “Sparks Fly,” “Teardrops on My Guitar,“ "Out of the Woods,” “Fifteen” (Abigail was there, and she dedicated this one to her)," Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” with Aaron Dessner and “Mine” (also Speak Now drop).

May 11

Dinner with Matty and Jack and Margaret at Casa Cipriani in NYC

Is it possible the villainy of Matty is that he planted the original story in The Sun that he and Taylor were dating? It ran May 3, two days before he showed up (from Asia) to the Eras Tour play with Phoebe Bridgers as the opening act in Nashville. I just always thought that was odd. Maybe he had a big fat mouth.

May 12

Eras Tour Philadelphia N1. She played “Gold Rush” and “Come Back…Be Here” (Aww, girl….)

May 13

LOT picks up again in Horsens, Denmark. He's smiling to himself all cute like during "Fine Line." Plus he played "Stockholm Syndrome" for the first time in yeeeears and looked delighted. :(

Taylor's surprise songs were “Forever & Always” and “This Love.”

May 15

I think this is when shit hit the fan. Maybe it’s that H was avoiding her for some reason. Or she just thought he was. I just wonder if she was mistaken...Maybe it was all a misunderstanding that spiraled out of control. (I'm sorry, did that come out desperate? Because I feel desperate).

Either way, she leaves Electric Lady studios with Matty in tow.

May 18

"The Black Dog" is recorded at Electric Lady. "Six weeks of breathing clean air/I still miss the smoke." If we're being very specific from this date, that's April 6.

May 19

She plays "Should've Said No" and "Better Man." (Well, that's seems...not good.)

May 20

Ah, the day of the “Question…?” and “Invisible” combo. (Oh, Tay). Matty is seen entering Taylor's apartment with a big Louis bag full of what many people believe is the typewriter. I always assumed it was a synthesizer or some kind of recording equipment. ¯\_(ツ)_/

May 25

This is the last day she was seen with Matty (and the chorus of angels sang)

May 26

Era's Tour Metlife N1. She sings “Getaway Car” with Jack Antonoff and “Maroon” (this was a very angry face Maroon). To me, at this point, Matty hasn't had enough time to ghost her yet (she just saw him the previous night) and thus doesn't yet deserve such an angry Maroon face. Point number bizillion that this song is about Harry Edward Mothafucken Styles.

May 27

Metlife N2. She sings “Holy Ground” and “False God," and cries.

#haylor #have i lost the plot? #i really don't think i have

[thetruthwilloutsworld]

The Scotsman interview 10 September 2023

Outlander star Sam Heghan has revealed he is ready for the "next challenge" when he finishes working on the hit show - and suggested it may involve scaling Mount Everest.

Writing in a new version of his first memoir, Waypoints, the Scottish stage and screen star revealed he has been pitching the idea of a TV documentary which would see him follow in the footsteps of the British explorer and mountaineer George Mallory.

He made three expeditions up the world's highest mountain in the 1920s but disappeared during the third along with climbing partner Andrew Irvine in 1924. Although Mallory's body was eventually found 75 years later, the mystery of whether he reached the summit has never been resolved.

Heughan was previously due to star alongside Ewan McGregor in a feature film recalling the race to conquer Everest in the 1920s, however, the project which was due to start filming last year never got off the ground.

Heughan started working on Outlander 10 years ago and seven series of the show have been made to date. An eighth and final series has been commissioned, although filming has been delayed to the writers' strike which has crippled Hollywood.

Heughan has already starred in Men in Kilts, an American documentary series following the actor and his Outlander co-star Graham McTavish around Scotland. A second series was made in New Zealand.

Waypoints, which followed Heughan as he walked the West Highland Way, was described as a "journey of self-discovery" as the actor, who was brought up in Dumfries and Galloway and Edinburgh, recalled the pivotal points in his life.

In a new final chapter of Waypoints, the 43-year-old actor revealed how completing his book had felt "like the end of the first chapter of his life and the beginning of a second."

He writes: "I'm nearing the end of my time on Outlander-eight seasons and ten years' of shooting - and the show has really shaped who I am.

"It has given me great opportunities and valuable experience that I can build on moving forward"

"I'm excited for the future. but it feels vitally important to acknowledge where I've come from"

"I would be where I am today with my past successes and (multiple!) failures"

"As a young man, I dreamed of working in the acting industry and being well-respected. It's certainly a dream come true and now I'm ready for the next challenge"

"A dream of mine has been to see the highest mountain in the world"

"I wrote in Waypoints about the Everest movie project that fell through and was disappointed I never made it to Nepal"

"However, more recently, I have been pitching a TV show that follows that dream (and the footsteps of George Mallory) from the UK to the Himalayan plateau and the slopes of Everest"

"Perhaps, If I'm lucky enough and dream hard enough I may yet find myself on the slopes of 'Chomolungma,' the earth's highest mountain"

"However, this time I'll be better prepared and ensure I'm not walking alone (and carrying plenty of snacks!)."

Instagram theoutlanderlounge

[tygerbug]

https://youtu.be/FC4sYmilGF8 The Thief and the Cobbler Recobbled Cut Mark 5 Work in Progress 06/20/23

This restoration is still a work in progress. It contains new animation which has not yet been completed, and is "half done" in this preview. At times, there are unfinished edits and smudgy frames.

"Animation among the most glorious and lively ever created!" - The New York Times "The best and most important 'fan edit' ever made." - Twitch Film

Chief Restorationist: Garrett Gilchrist

Directed by Richard Williams Screenplay by Richard Williams and Margaret French Master animator Ken Harris Produced by Imogen Sutton and Richard Williams

Here is your first sneak preview of a newly re-restored version of this lost animation classic, written and directed by legendary three-time Academy Award winning animator Richard Williams (animation director of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and the author of The Animator's Survival Kit). Nearly 30 years in the making, a labor of love by a team of animation greats, this was to be the masterpiece of Williams’ career, perhaps the most ambitious independent animated film ever conceived. It was taken away from Williams when he couldn’t meet his deadline, recut and destroyed. It has never been seen the way it was intended to be seen … until now. Based on Williams’ original workprint, missing scenes have been restored using storyboards and unfinished animation. Restored to its true form, this lost cult classic has finally been found - for you at home.

2023 could be considered the 60th anniversary of when production began on the film that would become "The Thief and the Cobbler." 2023 is also the 30th anniversary of when production ended on the film, when a reedited version called "The Princess and the Cobbler" had a very small release in some countries. 2023 is also the 10th anniversary of "The Thief and the Cobbler Recobbled Cut Mark 4," a restoration by filmmaker Garrett Gilchrist which intended to restore the film to its original intended form, as much as possible. This is also, approximately, the 25th anniversary of Gilchrist's first experiments with restoring this film.

So we thought it would be a good idea to go back and restore the film further, and see what could be done with it. We still do not have access to a high quality HD copy of any version of the film (such as the released version "Arabian Knight" or Williams' workprint "A Moment In Time"). We do have some 35mm workprint scenes, which we transferred in HD for this project, and which make up over 30 minutes of the film. Some scenes were also upscaled and rebuilt in HD, and all scenes were cleaned up and restored frame by frame by Garrett Gilchrist. Any Blu-Ray labels that would like to take on this project with us officially can contact us.

Garrett Gilchrist writes:

I had often said that I wouldn't do a "Mark 5" edit unless an HD version of the film (in any form) was released and could be used for a better quality version. The "Recobbled Cut" project was begun in 2006 and continued until 2013, originally. That's eight years of work restoring the film (frame by frame in Photoshop!) and building up a huge data archive of Richard Williams' work (Available via ocpmovie at archive. org). I wasn't going to return to the project without a very good reason to do so. No new footage has turned up in our hands in the last ten years.

But it's been ten years since the "Mark 4," and I was approached by animators Dennis Van Hout and Kiko Pablo (The Crow Artist), who had animated a few new shots for the film. It's very difficult, without a budget, to create the sort of high quality animation that this film requires. However, their efforts showed me that it's possible. I had just completed inking a Thief and the Cobbler Coloring Book (available at archive) and felt more confident that I could draw and ink in Richard Williams' style. I chose about twenty shots that seemed possible to animate, and began work on them in early 2023. You can see a half-finished version of the results in this video. I am still working to bring the results up to standard as much as possible.

I also "re-restored" most of the film for this version, rebuilding some shots in HD using cropped DVD sources, recoloring some shots to appear higher quality, removing dirt and damage in Photoshop frame by frame, and doing months of new work to bring the film to life like never before. We were never happy with the HD transfer of the scenes of The Thief in the War Machine, which are very red and dark and lack detail. Some color correction trickery helped bring more detail to the scenes, and dirt and damage was removed by hand in Photoshop over the course of several months.

Other HD scenes were also restored by hand, which had been overlooked for the previous version, because I'd been working on it for eight years at that point and had to stop somewhere. The U-Matic video source for the workprint was also revisited. Pencil test scenes are hard to see due to the low quality of the video source, and I went back to the original source for this version, and cleaned up the scenes very carefully frame by frame to bring out quality and detail that was previously lost. Scenes that previously switched from one source to another have been cleaned up as much as possible so that the sources match seamlessly. Some workprint scenes have been recolored by hand to improve their quality.

The scenes directed by Fred Calvert were done on the cheap and are not up to the quality standards that Richard Williams intended. In this edit I have reworked the Calvert scenes as much as possible, so that they play more smoothly with additional inbetweening. I have removed animation errors and improved scenes with special effects, and rebuild some scenes in HD. This work will continue as time allows.

Our newly animated scenes are also a work in progress, and will require further work to make the animation smoother and more in line with the rest of the film. I am just one illustrator and do not have the budget of a professional animation studio, so I'm really pushing my luck by trying to insert new animation into a cult-favorite masterpiece by one of the greatest animators who ever lived. But I also was careful to choose scenes that are less complex in how they move. It's been a lot of work, and it's still a work in progress. But I hope you enjoy seeing what I've been up to all these months, as well as the delightful new animation by Dennis Van Hout, Kiko Pablo, Chris Fern and others.

#the thief and the cobbler #animation #richard williams #theif and the cobbler #princess and the cobbler #arabian knight #thief and the cobbler #ttatc

[nerdieforpedro]

12/10/2023 - Weekend Update

Nerdie! Look at you staying on a schedule.

I know! Being half-way organized. It's kinda nice.

We'd never thought we'd see the day. So what's new?

I made some fic posts this week:

Sard'ika Sessions - Session Two (Din Djarin x plus size female reader)

Christmas List (Robbie Reyes x reader)

The Brave, The Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore (Volume 3)

A New Tradition with Frankie (Frankie Morales x GN reader)

We also spread positivity though everyone's ask boxes and exchanged lovely messages with each other and loved on each other.

Read anything this week?

I did. A large portion of it is in my Fanfic appreciation post volume 3 which the link is above. I also started a volume 4 because I love highlighting different author's works that I've enjoyed. 😀

I'm just going to pick my top three for the week:

Don't Drink the Punch by @wildemaven (Soft Dave and female reader. I'm a fan of soft Dave. He can be soft and sweet. He and the reader are married and they're at a work event. It's lovely.)

Exposed by @maggiemayhemnj (Ezra and female reader. Turns out this is her first fic. I was flabbergasted. The Imagery, word flow and cadence are all from someone who's pen name is one word, like Cher or Homer or Ms. PayDay.)

Insatiable by @pedge-page (Frankie Morales and female reader. Part three of their three part emotional sexual odyssey with Frankie and the female reader. There's big feelings and lots of smut abound. But there is a sweet end to it.)

What happened outside of fanfics this week?

I was sick most of the week. I ended up in the ED at work and was out for the week. Thankfully I'm on the mend and should be ready this upcoming week for work and beyond! I caught up on different FBI shows, watched Loki with my mom (she wonders if he's going to be at a convention - I'm hoping not so she won't bum rush the man,) and bought a book on flowers. I've also been starting back up on learning Spanish again.

What's coming up this week?

I'm working on another Robbie Reyes fic - likely to be a one shot but dark because the Rider is dark. Gabriel Luna had a birthday this past week, @musings-of-a-rose sent me all the pictures so this is where we are in life right now. All Luna’ed down and what not.

I'm gonna try for some more fluff, maybe with Dieter, Frankie or Benny. Not sure who. We'll see.

I could, possibly, be working on one of my other series that I started and dropped like a hot potato. Maybe they'll have new chapters. People were reading them, which was the weirdest thing.

Session Three of Sard'ika Sessions will be up on Wednesday. The Way is paved with Space Smut according to the Maker. 🫡 We'll be at the mid-point so we're in for a shift, but no worries. Session four, five and six took up a lot of pages in my notebook and it was all outlined with a lot of things. Maybe some more improper beskar use? Might need to touch base with The Armorer on that. 👀 Didn't know that was included in the ancient ways either.

Nerdie, don't be messing with The Creed like that.

To be fair, I did mention in Session one that there would be liberties taken with both The Creed and The Way so the latter sessions are where more of those liberties are taken. Maybe a lot, maybe a little. You'll have to read and see. Different Mandalorians see The Creed differently, why can’t I?

I am curious about what liberties my Space Sister @linzels-blog would make with The Creed. 🤔

Wait, why is it weird that people were reading your other series?

Since I haven't updated them for months, I didn't expect them to get any comments, then they did. It was very sweet and got me thinking, maybe I should finish that at some point, or at least add to it. I'm trying to focus on one at a time. Can't be crossing streams.

We get it, but that joke though? Could have done without that. Any last thoughts?

I need to work more on the pickled Peña project. Haven't finished that yet. Stay safe and hydrated. There are nasty bugs that are wreaking havoc on people's noses and sinuses. We’re very happy that @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @for-a-longlongtime have lived to tell their stories.

Also check your knives and watch your tips. I guess you can palm the tips or take them and do whatever as long as you're safe about it.

Nerdie, what are you talking about...? Do we want to know?

If you know, you know and if you don't, find some hot tips. 😘

Stay safe and don't get any in your eye,

Love Nerdie 💜

(escapes to a certain moodboard 🍆)

Nerdie! You can't just say that and leave! 😠

#fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #gabriel luna #weekend update #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #din djarin #the mandalorian #dieter bravo #robbie reyes #fic recs #watch out for those tips #don’t poke an eye out #Nerdie will always go for the dirty joke #it’s a sure bet

[allycat004]

Perfect to Me

Disclaimer: This is fluff with mentions of smut. This fic was based off of and inspired by a Chapter in a book I'm currently reading, Mile High by Liz Tomforde.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female reader

Summary: You are had a bad day and on top of that begin to feel self-concious about your body. Steve comes home and finds you crying then comes up with a way to cheer you up.

Word count: 1,452

© Allycat004 2023, please don't steal, translate, repost, or copy my work.

I woke up this morning hoping today was going to be a good day, but things did not go the way I had hoped. I dropped my coffee on the way to my internship and something I had been working on for weeks was deleted, it was gone. The only thing I really had going for me today, was my date later on with Steve. It was the one thing I had been looking forward to all week. 

I ended up getting home earlier than I had anticipated so I decided to take the extra time I had to finish a book while making sure I had time to get ready. After I finished my book, I decided to have a small snack before I got ready. Then when I was done I showered, did my hair, and did my makeup. When that was all done with, I went into my closet to pick out my outfit. 

Recently, I was trying to go out of my comfort zone because I was really self-conscious about my body, my curves. Being with Steve and having his support along with his encouragement was really helpful. So, I decided to go with the pleather jeans that I got at the mall a few days ago, a corset top, and my panda dunks. I laid out my outfit on my bed and took a deep breath then started to put it on. 

After having to jump to pull my jeans all the way up, I tried to button them and they won’t button. I tried three times and they still wouldn’t button, when I had bought them they fit me perfectly. The thing is, is that my body weight fluctuates all the time or I tend to be super bloated some days rather than others, I guess today was just one of those days where I was more bloated than usual. 

“ You’ve got to be kidding me, no, no, no, please don’t do this to me right now. “ I whined and sat on the bed trying to relax myself and not get super worked up. I took a few deep breaths then put my top on, which I had no problems with. So, I decided to wait a little bit before trying to get my pants to button again because I didn’t want to give up on them just yet. 

I got up, walked back into the closet, closed the door behind me, and stood in front of the mirror that was hanging behind the door. The moment I looked at myself in the mirror, I knew coming into the closet was a bad idea. One look at myself was all it took for me to become self-conscious and due to that I started to try and take off the jeans, but they got stuck on my thighs. 

“ Fuck, son of a bitch ! “ I slightly yelled then I looked back up into the mirror because I couldn’t help it and saw how the jeans looked stuck to my thighs. Which was my breaking point and I just started crying and put my face in my hands. 

“ Y/N- baby, what’s wrong? “ Steve asked, which caused me to snap my head up because I didn’t know he was home, I must’ve not heard him come in. 

“ I- n- nothing. “ I sniffled. 

“ Sweetheart, you’re crying, what’s making you so upset? “ He asked, then came into the closet, stood behind me, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my shoulder. 

“ I- i’m just having a bad day, that’s all. “ I wiped my face and then explained to him what had happened today leading up to now, excluding how I felt about my body at the moment. 

“ We all have bad days Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. “ Steve said then he rested his head on my shoulder. “ Now, besides what happened today, what else is causing you trouble, hm? “ He asked and I sighed because I knew I couldn’t lie to him. 

“ I- I just… I really don’t like my body. “ I sniffled and looked up into the mirror and made eye contact with him, he was frowning, but quiet. 

“ Do you trust me? “ He asked. 

“ O- of course I trust you. “ I replied. 

“ Okay… here, let’s get you out of these clothes, alright. “ He said, but waited for confirmation that I was okay with this, I hesitated a little before nodding. After I gave him permission, Steve helped me out of my clothes and now I was just standing in front of the mirror in my underwear with him hugging me from behind. 

“ Okay, let’s try something… tell me some things that you like about yourself. “ He said. 

“ …. Nothing. “ I replied as I looked up into the mirror. 

“ Come on Y/N, I know that’s not true. “ Steve said. 

I sighed and looked at myself for a little bit before I said anything. “ I like my eyes. “ I said. 

“ I love your eyes baby, they’re so pretty… what else? “  He replied as he kissed my cheek, which made me smile a little. 

“ uhm… I like my hair, how long and shiny it is. “ I said. 

“ I love your hair, now what else? “ Steve said. 

“ That’s it… ��� I replied as I looked at him in the mirror and he just nodded. 

“ Alright… then tell me what you don’t like about yourself. “ He replied while looking back at me in the mirror, making eye contact with me. 

“ I don’t like my thighs. “ I whispered, then I watched him place his hands on them. 

“ I love your thighs. “ Steve said as he gave them a light squeeze. “ I like them when I rest my head in your lap and I especially like them when they are warming up the sides of my face when I go down on you. “ I laughed a little at his response, which caused him to smile. “ But what I like most about them is when you’re sitting on my lap, facing me with your thighs straddling my legs because I like getting to see your pretty face. “ 

“ What else is there that you don’t like? “ He asked and I thought about it for a moment and let my eyes wander. 

“ I don’t like my stomach, I would like it to be flatter. “ I said as I looked to the side and away from the mirror.

“ I love your stomach. “ He replied and I felt his hands graze over it, which caused me to look back into the mirror. “ I love how soft it is, that I have a little something extra to hold while we’re cuddling… or fucking. “ 

“ I- Steve ! “ I laughed while shaking my head. 

“ Just being honest here Y/N. “ Steve said with a boyish grin. 

“ Well… I also don’t like my boobs. “ I said before he could even ask me to name something else and he looked at me like I offended him. 

“ You’re kidding, “ he replied “ There is no way that’s true, those are my two favorite things. “ 

I laughed, “ I don’t like that they aren’t the same size. “ I stated. 

“ Which is okay because you’re only human baby, plus I don’t have favorites. It’s impossible for me to pick between them. “ He said as he kissed my head and I chuckled. 

“ I don’t really like my stretch marks.” I said and I watched in the mirror as he glided his hands along them then wrapped his arms back around my waist. 

“ Well I love them because I think that it’s pretty fucking cool that your body can adapt, I mean don’t you think that’s awesome? “ He said and I smiled. 

“ When you put it that way, yeah.. It is pretty fucking awesome. “ I replied while chuckling and he kissed my cheek. 

After all of that, I felt better and we decided to stay in for the night. I put on some pajamas and we ordered in and watched our favorite show while cuddling in the living room. Since we were both getting tired, we decided to head into our room and cuddle in. Steve pulled me in close and I rested my head on his chest, he then kissed my head and started playing with my hair. 

“ I know that you won’t love your body every single day, but that’s okay because I will love it for the both of us. I will also be there and be your biggest supporter, to help cheer you up like I did today. You are perfect to me Y/N and you always will be. “  He whispered and my eyes teared up a little bit. 

“ I love you Steve Harrington. “ I said 

“ I love you too baby. “ Steve replied, then he kissed my head and eventually we both drifted off to sleep. 

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fandom #bodypositivity #self love

[tojivu]

PLEASE CALL ME [01]

a/n part 1 out of idk.. anyways this was so heavily inspired by phoebe bridger’s songs.. i’m so obsessed with her (=´∀｀) oh and also by a book i finished a long time ago but haven’t gotten over lol. i tried writing this in 3rd person pov but tbh it’s hard for me to display emotion in my writing if it’s 3rd person cus it’s like giving u instructions on how to feel 😭. I KNOW ITS 2023 OKAY I KNOW WE DONT LIKE 1ST PERSON ANYMORE BUT PLS LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT

warnings/tags barely proofread (i tried), if yall don’t like tis i’ll probably discontinue it LOL, childe x implied f!reader, sfw.

listen to chinese satellite by phoebe bridgers.

“Good morning.” Ajax is speaking to you, voice low. “It's a hot day.”

You were shivering, actually. Mornings were always cold no matter what the temperature was. Nevertheless, you nod and agree with him anyway. “Yup, isn’t it?”

You two were standing outside your house, waiting for the other to initiate the walking, to which you end up doing it. He follows behind, the path too narrow to fit the two of you—this was a familiar sound. Heavy footsteps you could only recognise to be Ajax’s only two metres behind you. You don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at the back of your head.

Such a nostalgic feeling, you think. You and him have been passing by the same trees and the same brown-cream coloured houses for 5 years now.

“Can you believe that we’re graduating in two months?”

He doesn’t answer.

You repeat the question again and he finally responds. You turn around, curious as to what had gotten him so distracted; his phone is in his hand, he’s looking into it and it’s pointing at you—his bright yellow phone case pales in comparison to the smile he has on his face.

“Not even going to let me pose?”

“You don’t need to do that. Your morning face is enough.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re pretty when you wake up.”

It’s 6 in the morning. Ajax was never one to think before he speaks, especially when the sun had just risen 5 minutes prior. You ignore what he says, assuming he just couldn’t tell that isn’t something you say to friends.

“Sure.”

—

It’s 8:27 am. You’ve been sitting through an hour of English, and you swear you thought the subject couldn’t get any more boring than when it was in middle school. You’re spinning your blue MUJI 0.5 tip pen between your middle and index finger, ultimately failing after 5 seconds and letting it drop to the floor. It rolls away, farther than you could bend and reach for—a soft metal clinking sound is heard when you realise it’s hit someone’s chair.

The red and black coloured backpack on the floor next to the chair made it obvious where your pen had gone and who’s chair it hit.

You whisper-yell, “Hey, can you pick that up?”

Ajax turns around and looks at you and then the floor. You’re thankful as he picks up the pen, but then quickly confused as to why he just turns forward again—keeping your pen at his desk.

—

YOU: It feels as though the evening has been stretched, like time is in slow motion and not in a good way; because I’m looking at Ajax sitting across from me and we have not spoken. I have a cup of coffee in my right hand, much too sweet for my own taste; a cat drawn from the latte art I don’t remember requesting. I’m very sure I asked for a bunny. I’m very sure. I think I left my Math textbook in class. The trees look really lively or something like that, I don’t really know, I am making sure to look away from Ajax because I know he’s staring.

“What?”

“What what?” He acts like he wasn’t just staring at me for the past 5 minutes. “Is there a problem?”

“My problem is that you’re being weird today.”

His mouth is agape, too dramatic to be genuine. “That’s rude.”

I don’t know what to reply to him now, knowing that he’ll just continue acting stupid. My shoes squeak against the wooden flooring as I lean back in my chair, it’s evening now and I’m so exhausted. People from the high school three streets away from ours are filling the tiny place up, passing by our table and some stare at Ajax as they do. The oak tables that were empty just a half hour ago are now full of teenagers, this whole place is infested with us; behind, left and right.

It’s not weird for people to stare at Ajax when we’re out together. It’s not like he’s a celebrity or anything, but somehow every girl I know has heard of him or has heard of him from someone who has heard of him. It’s a big chain of people I find impossible to keep track of. If you mentioned his name anywhere, someone would definitely go “you know him too?”.

I’m drinking my tea slowly and quietly. A group of girls are laughing so loud my eardrums could burst. Another group of girls walk in and the familiar bell sound of the café entrance rings, and it’s no surprise they know Ajax too; he smiles at them, I can’t tell if out of politeness, when they walk by. They’re giggling to themselves and I can’t help but feel a bit lost.

“What’s wrong with you today?” He’s asking me as if multiple things aren’t wrong with him. Suddenly, I’m the one with the problems.

I don’t bother anymore, I think about that moment minutes ago over and over again and I have no idea what to make of it. That giggle wasn’t a “what a coincidence” giggle, more like a teasing sort, the kind your friends do when your crush talks to you.

“Nothing is wrong with me.” I’m lying. “I’m gonna go home.”

He is so clueless, so oblivious to everything it is paining me. Oblivious to the amount of girls that are looking his way in this very establishment, at this very moment in time. It makes me almost angry, somewhat, that he doesn’t know.

—

AJAX: It is 7 P.M. and dark out. I think she’s angry but she’s just slouching over, but I get some sort of sensing that she will explode if I try to talk to her.

“Helllooo.” I’m next to her now, and she doesn’t want to reply to me; her eyes are on mine, eyebrows furrowed and clearly sending a message: Don’t even say anything.

I feel myself smiling because she looks very adorable. She is much shorter than I am. When she’s angry, I’m never able to take her seriously. I don’t think I ever have. Oftentimes in her fits of anger I am caught admiring her, smiling because I think she is so dramatic. When we were 15 she once yelled at me for using her charger, and apparently ‘making her phone charge slower’. She is one of the angriest and most short tempered people I know, yet I think she pulls off the frustrated pout and narrowed eyes very well. It doesn’t matter much to me.

“I’m not gonna ask what’s up with you because you got mad when I did.”

She looks forward again and we are still walking. Her house is still a few blocks down. I think she’s getting tired, too. I shouldn’t have dragged her to get milk tea with me. This path is too narrow to fit the two of us.

I walk in front of her and I can hear her tongue clicking out of annoyance. I bend down and stretch my arms, “Get on my back”.

I feel weight shifting onto my upper back, her long hair is tickling my neck but I don’t mind. Her arms are tired, slow in their movements as they wrap around me too, her head on my right shoulder and she does not say a word in all of it.

“Thank you.” she is whispering to me a few minutes later, and I think I am getting tired too. My legs want to give out. They don’t because I don’t let them.

It’s another 10 minutes and I’m at her front door, unlocking it using the key in her wallet; her parents are on the couch and watching TV and I start to wonder what this would look like to them.

“Ajax?” Her mother turns her head around and is surprised to see me, considering I wasn’t calling to say I was coming over. I haven’t done that in months.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s just tired, that’s all.” I tell her and I try my best not to speak too loud in case the girl on my back wakes up. I can feel her breaths on my back, slow and controlled. I bring her upstairs to her room and I lay her on her bed. Her room has changed quite a bit since I had last been in it, her desk is much more organised than it was a few months ago.

I found myself rejecting her invitations to hang out in her room over the summer break.

I think if I were to be alone in a room with her for too long I would end up blurting it out. I would tell her I’ve loved her since we started being friends, and she’d kick me out of her house and never talk to me again. But now she’s sleeping and I think I’m okay, so I pull her blankets over her and whisper; “Goodnight, I love you”.

—

YOU: I have no idea what day it is. I feel sticky. I look around and after a few seconds I sigh out of relief, realising this is my house, and these are my bedsheets. I don’t remember how I got here, though, my uniform is still on and the last thing I can recall is me on Ajax’s back.

I reach for my phone but realise it’s dead. A post-it note is next to my nightstand, ‘You’re welcome for the ride back. Call me when you wake up You owe me’, and on the bottom right corner there is an ugly and disproportionate cat drawn.

He didn’t even have the courtesy to remove my socks for me, but I guess that’s fair because I don’t think I’d go anywhere near his feet either.

I plug my phone into my charger and wait. I don’t know if he wants me to call him, but I think I should, I want to.

28 days later and i’m back with this shitty fic — 130423

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #childe fluff #childe x reader #childe angst #childe x reader fluff #childe x reader angst #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #genshin x reader angst #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia fluff #tartaglia angst