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commander-krios · 5 months

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Kay's 2023 Fic Rec List

I haven't read as many fics as I wanted to this year and Baldur's Gate 3 hit me pretty late so majority of these are probably from the last few months. I have a bunch of my mutuals fics saved to read later so I'll get to them eventually. These are the standouts from this year that I've read.

The Portrait by @mightymizora

Lord Gortash requests a portrait of his paramour. The pay is good, the contract legitimate. It seems almost too good to be true... In pre-canon, a young artist takes a job from an upcoming player in Baldur's Gate society.

Sharp Teeth by @lemonsrosesandlavender

When you see Rolan again at the tiefling party, your mission to save the Realms becomes more about saving Rolan in particular. Even when he doesn't want you to.

Good Night for Company by @underdark-dreams

"Would you mind if I kissed you?" Sometimes you need to feel lonely before you notice the person sitting right beside you. Set during the party at the Grove.

crushed/breathless by cetacean

He tries, really tries, to shove all thoughts of Sundries– or, if he’s being honest with himself, Rolan– to the back of his head, which is proving itself to be really goddamn hard now that the man is master of Ramazith’s Tower.

Mezzo by @swaps55

Here in the light those eyes of his look real, staring Jacob down like a railgun locked on a target. Jacob’s never been much for religion or spent much time thinking about an afterlife. But being caught in the crosshairs of that cold, indifferent gaze sure raises the question about whether humans have a soul, and if they do, what happens to it when you die. And if you can ever get it back. The twists and turns of ME2, through the eyes of everyone but Commander Shepard.

Morning Stars by @eluvisen

The hope of the Republic and the doom of the Republic. When Bastila saves Darth Revan, she only hopes to uncover the secrets of the Sith war machine. But there is something more lurking between them, and she is torn between fear and hope for this woman she is to guide back to the light. This revenant she has set on the galaxy, for good or ill. (They both know something of pride, after all.)

Smuggler's Ruin by @starknstarwars

In part two of the Smuggler’s Run series, the heroic Sixth Line, comprised of two noble Jedi Masters, a Sith Lord with a conscience, and a Smuggler with a heart of gold, continue on their search to hunt for the Emperor’s Datacrons. Their quest leads them on a deadly race across the galaxy to stop nefarious Sith Lord, Darth Sheasea, from stealing the Datacrons to unlock the mysterious World Between Worlds, in her bid to usurp the immortal Emperor’s throne.

Phoenix by @mallaidhsomo

Shepard went down with his ship, only to wake two years later and find out the love of his life had gone down, too. Or so he thinks. ~ Like a knife he’d forgotten is there, Shepard’s heart clenches painfully. He swallows the lump in his throat. This is not the place to break down. “Don’t think you can’t talk about him around me,” Shepard says, which is the exact opposite of how he feels at the moment. “I wasn’t the only one he meant something to.” “I know,” Joker replies, shrugging. “But you two were like...” He waves a hand awkwardly to empathize his point. Practically married. Ashley had said.

Gods-Damned Hero by QueenRadish

Rolan could have traveled to the bowels of Neverwinter - he could have raced the lengths of Avernus, or burrowed into every crevice through the Underdark, and he would never find anyone who knew how to mind their gods-damned business. ---- Scenes and chapters of all the various times Rolan and Vell met on the journey to Baldur's Gate, detailing the exact amount of sanity lost each time he had to convince Faerun's nosiest hero to not get herself killed.

#fic recs #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic recs #mass effect #mass effect fic recs #swtor #swtor fic recs #kotor #kotor fic recs

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

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I've been thinking about Old Boss, Dazai and Mori a LOT, as of late; and I think it would be neat if Old Boss' madness made Dazai so miserable, and that he too thought the only way to stop it all was to kill him. Except this thought made him feel trapped and even more miserable, so much that he tried to drown himself. But he got lucky: he met Mori. A person who can do the job meets a person who can provide the enterance and the cover, isn't it grand? (1)

Hey, sorry it took me a little bit to get to this. I was in the middle of exams and I wanted to make sure I gave your ask a proper answer.

You know, it's really interesting to me - you've outlined this version of events, which is different to what I think went down but I can't really refute or support anything because we just don't know enough.

It's insane how little we know about the mafia in general, actually, given how many of the supporting cast members are a part of it. We get mentions, sure, and little tidbits of info but not nearly as much as we get for the agency. I wonder why it was so important that the mafia be a part of Natsume's framework over any of the other criminal organizations in Yokohama. Is it influence? Power? Or is there some other reason we don't know?

I'll try to lay down what we know for certain, and particular inferences we can make leading up to the old boss's assassination:

The Old Boss:

He was the boss during the chaotic years directly after the war and likely during it as well

He threw the city into turmoil, especially in the slums, through such orders as "killing a bunch of redheads because one vandalized his car" or "poisoning the inhabitants of an entire building because he thought a rival executive might be there"

The end of his reign was so terrible that he turned the city's inhabitants against each other in a kind of Orwellian dystopic "report your neighbours for dissent" command

He has history with Dazai ("If only we could chat about old times" line from Fifteen)

He was suffering from a kind of paranoia from his illness and his orders became increasingly more erratic and needlessly violent, culminating in his ordering of the deaths of anyone who opposed the Port Mafia on his deathbed (roughly 8 years ago)

Mori:

He was a medical doctor during the tail end of the Great War, roughly 14-15 years before the events of the main story (when Yosano was 11 years old and he was 26)

He drafted her with the intention of creating an Immortal Regiment and appears to have advocated for the use and manipulation of abilities to turn the tide of the war

After the war, between 12-14 years ago, he worked as an underground doctor with Fukuzawa as his bodyguard - he was already acquainted with Natsume at this point (they both refer to him as sensei) and interested in establishing Natsume's Tripartite Tactic

How he came to be an underground doctor is not known - was he disgraced after what happened with the soldiers on Tokoyami Island? Was he purposely trying to work his way into the mafia?

12 years ago, he fought with Fukuzawa to try and take Yosano back for his plan to overthrow the Mafia (he was 28, Yosano 13, Fukuzawa 33, Ranpo 15)

Somehow he became the old boss's personal physician. I literally do not know how he managed this.

8 years ago, he approached Dazai, as seen in the recent Fifteen manga adaptation, as his physician, and promised Dazai a painless death if he agreed to "help with one little thing" (which is clearly to be a witness for the death of the old boss)

Dazai:

He wandered for a bit at some indiscriminate time, where the Sheep made an offer to join them. He refused.

His youngest appearance is 8 years ago when he is 14, in the recent Fifteen manga adaptation, where he is shown secured to a hospital bed after attempting suicide - it seems likely this was not his first attempt. He meets Mori for the first time in this scene.

He somehow is close enough to the old boss to be a valuable witness for Mori, someone whose word would be believed by the mafia. He was already suicidal for unknown reasons and was assigned the current mafia boss' personal physician to treat him. Hirotsu assures Mori that Dazai "understands why he did what he did", as though Dazai would have some reason to be angry with Mori over the old boss's death. Higuchi's "your blood is mafia black" line. If it weren't for the fact that he was not part of the mafia at that point, and had apparently not seen death up close before the murder of the old boss and the events of Fifteen, I would say it's practically a given that he's a blood relative of the old boss, perhaps even the "rightful heir" to the mafia. However, given the conflicting info I just gave, I really can't be certain.

His eye is focused on in all adaptations of the scene with the death of the old boss. His eye goes dark in every single one. (The original chapter 30 manga panel is interesting because it looks like the darkness is seeping into it...)

There's so little here for how important this event is. Just as we still don't know much about the great war, we still know very little about the mafia and the old boss - even Mori and Dazai are still very much mysteries.

With how much we still don't know, I think the story may end with us cycling back to the mafia and finally learning the answers to all these questions that were introduced so early in the game. At least I hope so. Thanks for the ask!

#ok this was long and i had to fact check a lot so if i've messed up somehow please as always let me know!#i think this is all we have outside of pure speculation but feel free to add on if i've missed anything #i have my own thoughts on this matter but again there's no way to be certain given how little there is to work with #hope you enjoyed this anon!#bsd #bsd old boss #bsd mori #bsd dazai #bsd meta #storyrambles

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gracehosborn · 3 months

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I would love to hear why you didn't necessarily like My Dear Hamilton!

Hi! Thank you for the ask! So so sorry it took me forever to answer this!

A disclaimer before I explain things: this isn’t an attack on the authors, I wish them the best, but rather this is just me discussing their novel as a piece of literature. It has also been awhile since I read this novel, so my memory may be fuzzy. I also have no ill-will against anyone who enjoys this novel—if it makes you happy, I am glad—these are just my personal opinions as a result of my experience reading the novel.

TL;DR is that I believe the authors poorly handled Eliza’s POV, Hamilton’s characterization, and the overall narrative per the story they set out to tell. A longer explanation of these issues is under the cut.

As I am a writer and aspiring author myself, I will be looking at this from that perspective.

My Dear Hamilton is framed as Elizabeth Hamilton meeting with James Monroe in her old age, and beginning to discuss forgiveness in relation to the Reynolds affair, whereupon the narrative shifts to give us the context of Eliza’s life from her childhood up until this point, then it shifts once more to conclude this moment. This itself is an interesting framework: telling the story through a lens of reflection by the protagonist, however there are pitfalls with this framing that this novel unfortunately falls into. Namely, (and at least in my opinion) there is an excess of telling the reader what is happening, rather than having the reader experience Eliza’s life alongside her. This isn’t to say that we should have to be shown every aspect of the story, but rather there should have been a better blend of these. To add to this, the past tense of this novel led to some very poorly done foreshadowing of events to come, and these moments felt very jarring and at times pulled me out of the story, or took away from the reaction that those later events had intended for me to have as a reader.

I would not have minded this excess if not for a stark fact that I realized while reading: Eliza isn’t the main character of her own story. That would be her husband, Alexander, as the book title itself implies. This arrangement is an interesting device, however it only works well if the protagonist (the person who you are experiencing the story from—in this case being Eliza) is directly beside the MC throughout the main character’s journey. Due to societal rules, Elizabeth did not get to experience what Alexander did right alongside him, therefore leaving the reader to be told again and again what was happening with Alexander (or people and things connected to him that Eliza couldn’t herself experience or talk to) as Eliza reacted—which isn’t super interesting in my opinion. And to this point, Eliza never established a goal for herself throughout the story that did not have some connection back to her husband, creating a narrative that was befallen by lots of repetition and telling versus showing. This in my opinion led to Eliza not feeling like her own character, and rather a vehicle for the audience to read second-hand what was going on in this world. There was nothing particular that stood out to me and made me want to care about Eliza, and I became more interested in what Alexander was doing off-page as the story went on.

A large focus of the book was of course the romance between Elizabeth and Alexander, and this in it of itself was alright, however I feel like the authors relied too much on physical aspects (notably adding a ton of sex scenes), and not giving a proper balance to our characters getting to know one another in conversation.

This was not helped by the fact that strangely, I hardly remeber there being any arguments between Alexander and Eliza. The only two that I remeber taking up a large portion of the story were in the aftermath of Alexander stepping down from the office of Treasury and challenging the entire Republican Party to a duel, and of course the “Reynolds Pamphlet”. When in reality, they very well may have had arguments and disagreements over all sorts of things—as this is only natural, and would have helped to make this romance more believable. For instance, they likely would have argued over the fact that upon the capital city being moved to Philadelphia, they would have to pack up their family of seven (Eliza and Alexander, plus their four biological children and Fraunces Antil, the little girl they took in) and move from New York City—their home of eight years. Furthermore, when we consider this from Eliza’s perspective, her biological family were only a few day’s travel away for that time. Having to move further away from them due to her husband’s work must have been hard on her, and could have certainly led to some anger. However, this is not acknowledged within the novel.

All of this isn’t to say that I think giving focus towards the experiences of women during historical time periods is bad. I actually think this should be done more, as we cannot fully understand a time period without understanding the perspectives and roles of every person involved. This said, the largest pitfall of My Dear Hamilton is that I belive the novel was set too early and therefore did not accomplish the goal the authors had set out. The large majority of the novel takes its time following the love story and marriage of Eliza and Alexander, and only the last hundred pages or so are truly focused on Eliza as the central figure—as these are set after Alexander’s duel with Aaron Burr. Having thought long and hard about this, I feel like there would be three ways to better tell Elizabeth’s story in this format:

Easy (for what is here):

Split this book into three sections. Take the romance (the current main plot as the novel is based around Eliza recalling her life with Alexander) and replace that status with something more internal to Eliza's character. Section one is a few chapters diving into her childhood, section two dealing with her relationship with Alexander, and section three is post duel.

Moderately Difficult:

Take this main plot and replace it with Eliza in her older age hunting down Hamilton's papers for publication. You can save all of these romantic moments in the form of relevant flashbacks. Side plots include: orphanage/other charity work, the actual writing of Hamilton's biography (Eliza struggling to keep lo one on the job, and she and her son John Church Hamilton, according to John’s daughter, had frequent fights due to creative differences).

Difficult:

Rewrite the current book from Alexander's perspective, since much of the novel is focused on him anyway. But really due to the fact that, in terms of character, he's more active whereas Eliza has done little in this regard and the plot is just falling in her lap. No timeline changes needed. You can still have the romance be the main plot, but it's helped by the fact that Alexander actively made later decisions in what he did within the fields of law and politics which would add both more depth and some subplots to the narrative.

The second option would in my opinion be best suited for telling Eliza’s story as relates to her impact on history. For without her efforts, we wouldn’t have such an interest in her husband’s historical impact or person. I would love to see a novel like that idea someday. I feel like it would be a very compelling narrative and with lots of care could provide us with a proper and in-depth look at Elizabeth which she deserves.

This got much longer than I thought it would, but I hope it is at least enjoyable to read. As I said at the tip of this post, you’re welcome of course to like or even love My Dear Hamilton, but these are just my personal thoughts from my own experience of reading the novel.

#thanks anon #thanks for the ask!#my dear hamilton #alexander hamilton #amrev #elizabeth schuyler #elizabeth hamilton #grace’s asks #historical fiction #historical novels

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northern-passage · 1 year

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Hey, sorry I've got the technical question cause I'm kind-of bad with context; when I choose for MC to think of Noel to distract from thinking of the Chariot card I got the paragraph 'Noel is not the only person that's turned your head recently, and you can't help feel a spike of guilt, thinking about him. There is a reason for it, you know - a reason that you're feeling so clingy.' —And I was just wondering if that's referencing flirting with another RO, or referencing your friendship with Lea?

you get that line in that scene if you've flirted with anyone else at any point so far. the hunter feels guilty here for flirting with multiple people, but also the hunter knows they're sick and they know that they are getting desperate for any kind of real connection (romantic or otherwise) and they feel "clingy" because they are afraid of the rot getting worse and running out of time to experience it - hence the hunter potentially getting overly attached to the companions rather quickly in blackwater, and flirting with multiple people, which is not something they usually do.

basically, in the hunter's mind, they feel like they are "using" the companions, because they know that they are sick and that they are only going to get worse - and they already have a very low opinion of themselves, so they don't feel like they are necessarily deserving of any kind of relationship, and knowing that they are only going to deteriorate with the rot they feel it's unfair of them to try and pursue anyone... but they haven't been able to stop themself despite this thinking - they just want to be seen and known before they are gone. and that's where a lot of their guilt comes from.

this is not a healthy mindset, just to be clear, the hunter just doesn't have a very good concept of how friendships and relationships work, but they will learn as the game progresses :-)

there are a few lines in that particular section in game that are meant to be a tiny bit of foreshadowing, that the hunter knows more than we do, which is why it's a little vague and not expressly stated what the "reason" is. once we get the reveal at the end of the chapter, it's meant to clarify on a second read some of the things the hunter thinks internally, once you realize it's because they know they are ill.

#i had to go back and look at this passage bc i haven't played the game or looked at ch1 in so long rn 💀#but that line always appears regardless who you think of it's just if you've flirted with multiple ROs at this point #hopefully that explains some of the hunter's thinking #sorry the hunter just breathes and they feel guilty about it. they have problems #also when i say relationship here i dont just mean romantic #the hunter #ask #anonymous

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goron-king-darunia · 1 year

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Eggtober Retrospective by @goron-king-darunia Well, there they are. Every egg-related piece I drew in October, along with the behind-the-scenes or in-progress pictures, including bonus art. Individual links will be at the end of the post. I’m gonna get sappy here, but first, a poem to tie this whole thing off before I get into the details some may want to skip. Poem for an Egg An egg is such a simple thing. Child of beasts of scale and wing. Let from this verse my praises ring, A poem for an egg. Yolk of gold in chest of white Armor crackling, feather-light. Wet albumen shining bright From a calcium-cast keg. Coated tongue with holy wine Protein and rich fat combined Sunlight nectar so divine To stain the humble bread. Toothsome sponge of firming yield, Heated skillet firmly sealed. Poached from out the plundered field, Plucked from feathered bed. Broth of life in fragile cradle, Font of youth of myth and fable, Decadent and smooth like sable, Anointed and alone. Nourishment of king and peasant Harvested from hen or pheasant. Such is nature’s oldest present To nourish flesh and bone. An egg is such a precious thing From which my inspirations spring And for the world I’ll proudly sing This poem for an egg.

Now, a little on what eggs and Eggtober mean to me as an artist. Eggs are symbolic of a lot of things. But I’ll go over the particular symbolism that felt relevant and inspiring to me. Youth - Obvious on the face of it. One way or another, baby organisms of any sort of complexity start as an egg. Baby chickens come from eggs. Fairly direct symbolism. But for me, Eggtober was connecting to a younger time in my life, where art was just something natural. Where I wasn’t pressured by my own expectations or burdened by a lot of the fetters that come with visual art. It was about connecting with that feeling of whimsy. Even my personal projects started carrying a weight of expectation to them, even though I swore to myself that the quality didn’t matter. The level of skill I achieved with art had me in that sort of Valley of Despair in the whole Dunning-Kruger graph. I knew enough to know that I had so much growing left, and my confidence fell through the floor. But Eggtober was a chance to connect with the confidence of youth, and grow the skills I��ve been nurturing that went to atrophy over nearly a decade of no (or very little) art. To just draw what felt right, learn, examine, look, tweak, practice, and grow. No external judgements. No internal judgements. Just making. And I think that’s helped me a lot.

Looking Beneath the Surface - I’ve been forced to do a bit of introspection recently. As is the human condition, I inevitably end up harming people I care about. And while a certain amount of that is unavoidable, the stuff that is avoidable stems, in part, from unaddressed self-esteem issues. Through a combination of examining my own writing, discussing with friends, and examining things that have hurt me when they ought not (i.e. I burst into tears for “no reason” because a Hershey bar had the phrase “treat for me” on the back as part of its marketing) I’ve realized that I... kind of hate myself. I have this deep-seated unease about facets of myself that I’m ashamed of. Things I think people wouldn’t accept, fears I have that I know aren’t true, anxieties about my own interests, doubts about my own capabilities. Things about myself that don’t really hurt anyone, that don’t need to be changed, upset me.

It got to the point where I was inadvertently hurting people in a desire to medicalize my own idiosyncrasies to validate them because as a psychology student, I’d internalized a pretty unhealthy “If I can name it, I can fix it” mentality. “If I can just associate this thing I hate about myself with a known disease, disorder, or mental illness, I can totally just get rid of it with the right treatment (that I don’t have access to for a variety of reasons)” And that’s not a healthy way to think about myself. Especially not about things that don’t hurt anyone. Doubly especially when those are just little things I enjoy in fiction. Things that don’t really indicate anything about me on their own.

That festering self-hatred probably stems from a lot of external sources, but ultimately, it’s the fact that it’s sitting inside me, unaddressed, that it’s become a problem. I internalized a lot of external influence meant to hurt me and decided that because others wanted to hurt me, that I deserved to be hurt. I decided that instead of examining any of that, to just accept it wholesale and that instead of changing things (which I didn’t want to change and don’t need to be changed because, again, these things don’t hurt anyone) I decided to cope with self-deprecation. Like putting on a red shirt before going on stage, expecting tomatoes. “You can’t hurt me more that I’m already hurting me. If I tell you I already know there’s something wrong with me, you can laugh with me and not at me.” Needless to say, I know that stuff isn’t healthy, and I’m more aware now that it hurts other people, not just me. For a variety of reasons, I can’t get professional help right now. But knowing at least one root of the behavior that hurts me and hurts others means I can address it. And being able to look inward will be key to growing as I move forward. Just as an egg holds a white and a yolk, my body houses a mind and its thoughts. Being able to look within and see what’s there, like candling an egg, will help me root out things that hurt others and affect my quality of life. Food and Community - I wanted to stick with an edible theme, partly because I like food, but also because food means community. Unless you’re a hermit living alone in the mountains and living off wild berries and roots, it’s basically impossible to eat something that hasn’t involved other humans in the process. Even if you cook your own food and eat all by yourself, someone picked those veggies, gathered those eggs, butchered that meat. And usually, eating isn’t something you do alone. There are reasons that going out to eat is a common activity to do with friends and dates and family and why food is a part of special occasions. Eggtober, as a challenge, was something we did together. Whether you only participated once or twice, whether you just watched, whether you did an egg every day like @quezify. It was a uniting factor. And even though lots of people have decided the plague is over, it really isn’t. And even if it was over, those years of isolation and limiting togetherness for the good of the community was rough on a lot of people. Doing something together is just nice.

Can I offer you a nice egg in this trying time? - I’ve always been an absolute slut for pink Pokemon. And while I characterize myself as more of an Audino, I really vibe with Blissey for this. “Blissey senses sadness with its fluffy coat of fur. If it does so, this Pokémon will rush over to a sad person, no matter how far away, to share a Lucky Egg that brings a smile to any face.” “Anyone who takes even one bite of Blissey's egg becomes unfailingly caring and pleasant to everyone.” More than anything, I want to live a life of kindness and making others happy. I’m not always able to live up to that. But I strive for it. Various media characterize various things as nourishing and nurturing. And while the poster-child food for that in the USA seems to be Chicken Soup, the egg is only a degree or two removed from that. And while the best known pop-culture reference on this site which uses the egg as a short-hand for affection has been memed to hell and back, I think it has more sincere implications in my art. Even if it’s only one person, I just want to make this world a little better for someone. I want to be kind, patient, nurturing. I want to embody love. I know I’m only human. I know it can’t always be unconditional. And I know I can’t always be the best me every moment of every day. But I hope if there’s a stat sheet at the end of life that my metric for kindness, compassion, and love is my highest stat.

Final Thoughts: Eggtober’s been an artistic adventure. I learned a lot about the raw mechanics of making art, trained my eyes, my hands, refined my process. But it’s also been emotional. I’ve been crying writing some of this. Growth is a series of small steps and consistent choices, and I’d like to think I’ve come out the other side of this month a markedly better person than I was before, in more ways than one. I’m no stranger to sadness and depression. In fact, in terms of Pixar’s Inside Out, I’d pretty soundly say I’m “Captained by Sadness,” as the visual metaphor goes. But even with things outside my control, even with the crying, even with the concretely bad day, October was a good month. In no small part due to drawing for Eggtober. I’m a characteristically weepy bitch, so not all of these tears are sad tears. But there’s definitely a melancholy setting in. It’s been nice doing all this, and it’s a little sad for it to be over. But there’s also relief. I can get back to a few other projects I put on the backburner. I can free up brainspace for other creative pursuits and I can be a bit more spontaneous. There’s also an overwhelming joy that comes with being able to see I completed something. Just putting everything together into one collage to see all I’ve made was an emotional endeavor. Being able to put something out there in the world and say “I made something. Something that didn’t exist before exists now, because of me.” I’m trying not to cry because it’s over. I’m trying to smile because it happened. We all did something great together. I don’t think I’ve had a happier month, even with everything. Thank you to everyone who participated. This was a wonderful experience. My askbox is open for anyone that might want to put in an egg request, even if Eggtober is over now. If you all have any favorites, I’ll consider setting up shop and running prints if you want to support me. But until then, I hope you all are safe, fed, warm, and loved. All Eggtober Art, in order, Left to Right, Top to Bottom: Eggtober 1 - Fried Egg Eggtober 2 - Deviled Eggs Eggtober 3 - Toad in the Hole Eggtober 4 - Eggs Benedict Eggtober 5 - Hard Boiled Eggs 3 Ways Eggtober 6 - Poached Egg Eggtober 7 - Soft-Boiled Eggs Eggtober 8 - Scrambled Eggs Eggtober 9 - Mushroom and Cheese Omelet Eggtober 10 - Bibimbap Eggtober 11 - Tonkotsu Ramen with Egg Eggtober 12 - Avocado Toast Eggtober 13 - Çilbir or Turkish Poached Eggs Eggtober 14 - EGGxperiment (Naked Egg) Eggtober 15 - Scotch Egg Eggtober 16 - Tamago Nigiri Eggtober 17 - Ikura Nigiri Eggtober 18 - Egg Salad Eggtober 19 - Mooncake (Featuring Salted Egg Yolk) Eggtober 20 - Minimalist Shakshuka Eggtober 21 - Huevos Rancheros Eggtober 22 - Impressions of Broccoli Quiche Eggtober 23 - A Cube of Egg Casserole Eggtober 24 - Tamago Kake Gohan Eggtober 25 - The Imposter or “The Egg Plant” Eggtober 26 - Century Egg or “Beyond Reach” a Starbot Fanart Eggtober 27 - Soy Grilled Quail Eggs Eggtober 28 - Pickled Egg with Radish Slices Eggtober 29 - Cloud Egg Eggtober 30 - Halloween Meringues Eggtober 31 - Cadbury Screme Egg

Eggtober Bonus 1 - Intermission Collaboration Eggtober Bonus 2 - Sushi Eggs Eggtober Bonus 3 - Zucchini Egg Casserole Behind the Scenes 1 - Bibimbap, But Just the Veggies (Under Cut) Behind the Scenes 2 - Avocado Toast, Emphasis on the Tomato (Under Cut) Behind the Scenes 3 - Starbot Fan Art without Pixelation (Under Cut)

#Eggtober 2022 #Eggtober Retrospective #my art #my writing #poetry #It's been a hell of a ride #trying to take what I learned this month with me moving forward #both the art stuff and the self-reflection stuff

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aller-geez · 9 months

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Get to know: Levi Anderson

Owned by @thekinkyleopard 🖤

27 // Male He/Him // Homosexual // Irish & Russian Shifter Snow Leopard

Full name: Levi Flynn Anderson

Nickname: Lee or Kitten

Date Of Birth: Sept 24th, 1995

Big Three: Libra🌞 Sagittarius 🌝 Sagittarius ↗️

Physical Appearance —

Age: 27 looks 23

Eye Color: Light Blue

Hair Color: White with black roots

Weight: 118

Height: 5’7

Race: Irish & Russian Snow Leopard Shifter

Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: Freckles all over his body, especially his face, he always has his angel fangs and right hoop nostril piercing in. He has a white mullet style hair cut with black sides, he cuts his own hair.

Personality —

Greatest Strength: Kindness and Empathy

Greatest Weakness: His innate sense to try and see the best in everyone

Soft Spot: Remi always everyday.

Mannerisms: he is a very silent and balanced man, he always stands with great posture, but has a tendency to pick at his nails, and bite on his lip.

Miscellaneous Trivia —

When Levi was a young boy he used to love playing dress up with his older sister Erin before she was taken by CPS. They used to love playing Princesses. Levi always wanted to be Pocahontas while Erin was always Ariel. Typically this was a game they’d play when they would go to the lake or pool. Ariel always wound up giving Pocahontas special mermaid abilities so they could have tea parties together. While Pocahontas often taught Ariel how to be one with the land and nature. To this day, Levi’s favorite princess is Ariel because he thinks of his beloved sister.

Levi came out to his mom when he was 17, and she was less than supportive, telling him things like he wouldn’t ever know what real love felt like. It put a massive strain on their relationship, and before they could mend it, his mother suffered an overdose she never survived from. Leaving Levi to feel hollow and unfinished. Deep within in him, he sometimes wonders if it was his coming out that drove her to do it.

Levi was originally born in Ireland, however, as the shifter crime rate drove higher within the communities, and his mother’s reputation started to proceed her, they had to move to the United States while Eve (his mother) was pregnant with his youngest sibling.

Sneeze Content —

ALLERGIES

Marigold flowers

Dust

spices (such as pepper, wasabi, crushed red pepper, coriander and cumin)

No seasonal allergies.

How severe are they?

When exposed to a stimuli it is almost instant that Levi falls into a fit of sneezing despair.

Do they get sick often?

Not really, having grown up in poverty conditions as well as being completely used to a drastic change in temperature, he isn’t really the one bringing viruses home. However, with his partner being a super magnet for illness, he does find himself getting MUCH sicker, more often, now that they’re together.

How bad is it usually?

When Levi IS sick, he’s actually kind of pissy, he tries to hide it, but if anyone besides Remi tries to 1) give him a hard time or 2) tell him what to do that doesn’t align with what he WANTS to do? Major bitch vibes. He’s leaky, his nose gets super red and chapped because he can NOT stand the feeling of snot or ick on his face or dripping off his face, so he HAS to wipe it. If he has no tissue, which is unlikely as he always carries them around for Remi, he will use a sleeve or any other close by cloth.

Do they stifle?

Nope, Levi doesn’t stifle unless he’s in a particular situation where either he doesn’t want to get Remi riled up, or it’s inappropriate to make a loud sound. Otherwise, our boy is just trying to get it out and over with.

How loud are their sneezes?

Levi has a medium volume sneeze, rather polite in a lot of ways. He will always cover his mouth, unless instructed otherwise by his mate. It doesn’t cause a whole lot of a scene, though it does impress some people with how many will escape his mouth.

What do they sneeze into?

He sneezes into tissues typically but if he can’t get to one in time, into his sleeve or inside his shirt.

How often do they sneeze?

He doesn’t sneeze often unless he’s triggered by an allergen or induced

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?

It depends on what caused him to sneeze, marigolds it’s about 3-4 in a row, but with a pointed tissue? 1-2? Spices/dust? 2-4 depending how strong!

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?

With dust it’s more of a build up, same with tissue inducing, however with marigolds and spices it’s instant.

Do they sneeze in public?

He does, but tries not to in certain situations because he’s usually with Remi, and if he has things to do he doesn’t have time to find the nearest bathroom to sneeze and suck on Remi’s…you know..😏

Some examples of their sneezes?

—hah’ESHHh‘uh!!

HET’Shhh’eu!

Eh-TSHU!

Hh’Etshu!

T-SHU!

Eh’ehTSHU!

Backstory —

Levi was born in Ireland, along with his sister Erin. However, when his mother fell pregnant with, at the time, his little brother Connor, they moved to the states for better opportunities as the area they grew up in was slowly becoming too violent for them. Levi’s father left before he even knew Evelyn was pregnant with his child, Levi has never met his father, and has never been interested in meeting his father upon finding out he’s an unstable meth addict that knocked his mom up on a trade. They move to the states, but come to find out, the states is the least safe place for shifters. The stress of 3 children and having spent every last dime to her name to move out to the “Land of the Free” to follow the “American Dream” and her own life found to be too much and Evelyn started abusing pain medication after Connor’s birth, which spiraled back to any and every other various drug she could find to cope with the fear of living.

Levi was close to his big sister Erin as a child, she taught him to stand and walk. He would spend every waking moment hanging out with his siblings, until the pressure was getting too much, and Evelyn’s mom, Orla, who had also moved to the states to follow them (more so Levi) took Levi in. Orla had reservations towards the other siblings, there was no real reason she favored Levi more, but she did. Leaving Eve to care for Erin and Connor, however, a few months after Levi was given to his grandma temporarily, Erin and Connor were taken by CPS and placed into the foster system. Evelyn had left them outside the bar she frequented. Upon getting too drunk, and the kids asking for her outside, a lady called CPS. Immediately the kids were taken home to grab their things and were ripped away from Evelyn’s care.

At 13, Erin was adopted to a single man, who worked in the medical field as a professional. However, upon finding out his foster daughters affliction of shapeshifting, he started doing unethical experimentation on her. Causing her to pass away from infection due to complications at age 16. The man was free to walk, as shapeshifters have no human rights in the states. Therefore all shifters in the states, tend to go incognito.

Connor, was adopted at age 3, 6 months after being put into the system. He lived with an older Asian couple that were extremely strict and unnurturing to him. They kept his shifter side a secret, but he had to learn himself how to control it. Connor later comes out at 16 as Connie, a transwoman. His adoptive parents kick her out, and she lands on the streets. She tries to make a living for herself but falls into addiction and meets her best friend Alistar after a terribly devastating loss. He helps her get clean, as well as try to locate her siblings. Levi was returned to his mother at age 14 because his grandmother passed away from heart complications, his mother had started living in buses and RVs. Their first trip after being reunited was to the lake where Levi met Remi. She was trying to show her son how much fun life on the road is. Which he did, he loved life on the road! However, his mother’s addiction and affiliations only seemed to get worse and worse. Their relationship becomes more and more strained as time passes, Evelyn even rejecting to support her son when he came out as gay.

At age 17, Levi loses his mother to a fentanyl overdose and falls into his own perilous addiction to oxycodone. Upon losing his mother, he also loses the RV they were staying in, due to unpaid debt. The teen goes into full survival mode, applies to be a waiter and a dancer at his local club to support himself and his pill habit. In the meantime staying at shelters and couching hopping with some of the more trustful clients he’d meet at the club. Or anyone that did drugs with him. Occasionally he would also stay with coworkers. He does wind up getting hate crimed in a bar at age 21, suffering permanent nerve damage. In the winter time he can’t walk on it very well. Eventually by 22, Levi had saved enough to buy himself a bus, which needed a lot of renovations to become habitable.

At age 23, At age 23, Levi decides to create an Onlyfans account and get clean, which grows by 100 subs within the year. He follows the 12 step program and kicks the habit by 24 becoming Cali sober. Giving him enough money to sustain and slowly fix up his bus, he named Maybelle. Levi fills it with plants, tapestries, stuffies and colorful art pieces once he finishes it by age 25. From there, Levi works to grow his onlyfans, hoping to make enough money to track down his siblings and reunite.

Reference Sheet —

Shift —

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akindplace · 2 years

Text

I know some younger people might not remember this, but I was in my early teens when Skins came out and for several years tumblr still loved the series, and today I saw something from the show and it took me a while to remember the scene, though I watched the show more than once. Skins was such a fever dream on this website, but also a bit on real life too, because me and my friends enjoyed it but we didn't realize how much it romanticized mental illness among other things.

All the girls wanted to be Effie. I was often told I was like Cassie (I never had an eating disorder but I was skinny and depressed back then and I often spoke nonsense and I still do lol it's the neurodivergent brain going off). Those comparisons have so many problematic layers to them that I'm not going to dissect because this post would become an essay. We bought the romanticizing of the show, and we were kids with good education, we knew how bad it was to suffer from mental illnesses because we were actually suffering from them, but we were kids nonetheless and romanticizing it made us feel a little better about it, like our pain could make us as beautiful as Effy. It makes me worried about teens these days because media keeps pushing this romanticized idea of illnesses.

A girl's beauty is never, ever, measured by how much pain she can take, but the message over 10 years after the Skins came out still feels like that: the male gaze making the pain of young girls in particular something that is beautiful and attractive and even sexual.

Does anyone else remember the Skins fever dream? How it took years for it to die down? Can we keep it dead and can we kill other shows doing the same formulaic story? Please? Thank you?

#cw eating disorder mention #cw depression #cw mental illness #cw romanticizing mental illness #cw sexualizing minors

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fortheloveofwonderland · 2 years

Note

For the blurb emoji:

Spencer and Female Reader

👥. Friends to lovers

🎞 Missing Scene from S14 Episode 9 ‘Broken Wing’( episode where we find out Tara’s ex husband was a drug addict) The scene I would like is one where Spencer and Tara talk about shared experiences. Reader is there afterwards.

(Optional: 🥼 Tara Lewis as teammate/confidant)

Thank you!

This was such an interesting one! You have such great ideas and I love making them come to life. Hope this was the kind of thing you were after.

Send me emojis for my milestone celebration and I’ll write you a blurb.

Summary - Spencer tries to help Tara see the impact she had on her ex husband without realising by reliving his relationship with you.

CW - drug use and drug addiction, recovering, mild swearing, angst with happy ending.

WC - 1.4K

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

Broken Wing

Not my gif

Spencer wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Tara alone in Morgan’s old office upon arriving home from their latest case.

It had been a rough one for her, dragging up so many well buried memories she’d disguised from the team for three years.

He didn’t blame her at all for keeping this particular facet of her life a secret. Spencer knew all too well how to keep them from the people he loved the most.

He considered leaving her, the last thing she probably needed right now was company. But Spencer knew he was the only one that could even begin to understand what she was going through.

He rapped his knuckles against the half open wood door out of politeness more than anything.

Tara glanced up from her intense stare at her lap into Spencer’s eyes.

“Hey,” she croaked a little, forcing a smile.

“Hey,” he replied quietly. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” She shrugged, sitting up straighter in the chair.

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk but I just wanted you to know if you did want to talk…” Spencer trailed off, perching against the old desk.

Tara looked up at him, her usual stoic eyes held the weight of years of pent up emotions.

“Why couldn’t he get clean for me?” Her voice cracked as she spoke and her eyes searched Spencer for answers she knew he didn’t have.

Spencer lip drew into a tight, sad smile, bracing his hands against the desk for the conversation to come.

Even after all these years, thoughts of his past drug addiction still caused his stomach to coil into knots.

“I can’t answer that, Tara. But I’m sure he wanted to. Drug addiction is a beast. It’s the monster under your bed come to life and it grips you so tight you think there’s no way out. I wanted to get clean so many times before I actually did. It…it…sucks you in.

Drugs make us inherently selfish. I’m sure he wanted to do it for you, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t about you, it was bigger than that. Addiction is an illness. We want to get better, but actually doing it…I know it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Tara exhaled through slightly parted lips, leaning her elbows on her knees.

“Did he think it didn’t affect me? The nights he spent god knows where while I was worried sick about him?” Her tone got a little tense, her anger at Daryl creeping to the surface again.

“I think he probably didn’t think anything at all.” Spencer simply shrugged. “Honestly I know I never gave a thought for anyone else. Sometimes I stayed out all night just wandering the streets high out of my mind. I’d wake up with a ton of texts and missed calls from the team but it never occurred to me that I was hurting them too.”

“What about Y/N?” Tara’s eyes narrowed slightly on him.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile a little at the mention of your name.

“We were just friends back then. She tried so hard to help me, showing up at my apartment at all hours just to check in. Sometimes I’d stumble home in the middle of the night and she’d just be sitting outside my door waiting for me to come home. The drugs didn’t let me understand that she was just trying to help. I got angry, on more than one occasion. Pushed her away, told her I didn’t need her help and that I was fine.”

“Sounds familiar.” Tara smiled wryly. “He could get so violent at times.”

“Like I say, it’s a selfish illness.” Spencer relaxed a little against the desk, loosening his white knuckle grip on it a little. “I don’t think I was ever violent but I was certainly aggressive. Most of all with her. The same way Daryl directed his anger and frustration at you.”

“Why is that?” Her eyebrows pulled down into a frown.

“We lash out at those who care about us most. I think it’s a defensive mechanism? Push away those who care about us and who we care about because even in our drugged states we don’t want to pull them down this fucking rabbit hole with us.

I was undoubtedly in love with Y/N back then as I’m sure Daryl was with you. I didn’t want her to see me in my darkest moment so I yelled and I screamed and I pushed her away because I was…scared.” A few tears gathered at the corners of Spencer’s eyes as he spoke.

“He used to pin me against walls and yell at me like it was all my fault. I was only trying to help.” Tara’s voice pitched a little as though she might cry but Spencer knew her better than that.

“I once screamed at Y/N that I hated her and I wished she’d leave me alone. I told her I hated her and that she was a nosy fucking bitch for thinking she could just show up and think she held all the answers.” A tear escaped his eye as he unsurfaced that memory and he quickly wiped it on his jacket sleeve.

“But you did clean. And so did Daryl. Just not for me.”

“I don’t think that’s strictly true.” Spencer was quick to counter. “I know for me, every word Y/N ever said to me stuck. I might not have gotten clean for her but I did clean because of her.”

Tara’s eyes widened as an understanding passed between them.

Maybe it wasn’t until Mary came into his life that he actually got clean, but she’d still helped. Every fight, every bad word shared had stuck with Daryl.

Maybe she’d helped him more than she knew.

“You’re lucky to have her.” Tara smiled and it only held a hint of sadness.

“Don’t I know it.” Spencer chuckled. “I’m sorry for what you went through Tara, I really am.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry too.”

Spencer pushed himself up from the desk, shooting Tara a soft smile.

“If you ever want to talk again…”

“I’ll be sure to let you know, Spencer. Thank you.”

Spencer nodded and pushed on towards the door.

Outside in the corridor you were leaning up against the wall, a slightly wistful smile on your face.

“How long have you been there?” He cupped your cheek, grazing his fingertips along your skin.

“Long enough.” You shrugged. “Is she going to be ok?”

“I think so.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before slipping his hand in yours.

The two of you started walking towards the elevators.

“I’d say I can’t imagine what she’s going through but…”

Spencer glanced at you as you walked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“She helped Daryl in more ways than she might ever realise.”

You glanced back at him, the look in his eyes telling you he wasn’t strictly talking about Tara.

“I’m glad. And I’m sure she’d do it all over again.” You bumped your shoulder against his and he smiled softly at you as you reached the elevators.

He pressed the button with his free hand.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah Spence, I know. And I love you too. No matter what.”

He slid his hand out of yours and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body and placing a kiss in your hair.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever thanked you for everything you did for me. Sticking with me while I treated you like that.”

“You were my best friend.” You nuzzled into his chest. “And also, I was undoubtedly in love with you back then too.”

As the elevator doors opened you looked up at him with a smile.

He led you inside the elevator and as the door closed behind you he captured your lips in a kiss.

“I’m pretty certain after everything we’ve been through over the years, we can survive anything together.” You stroked a rogue strand of hair back off his face and he hummed at your touch.

“Doctor and Mrs Reid against the world?” He chuckled, taking hold of your hand again and feeling your wedding rings bump together.

“For better or worse.” You offered him a teasing smile as the elevator started making his descent.

He hoped Tara would see the impact she’d had on Daryl one day. It took you a long time to see just how much you’d aided Spencer’s recovery without even realising it.

Drug addiction is selfish and it destroys everything in its path. But without Tara’s insistence, without the fights and the harsh words, Spencer was sure Daryl would not be where he is today.

Maybe one day Tara would be able to take those broken wings and fly.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #tara lewis #criminal minds

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felixcloud6288 · 4 months

Text

Higurashi: Abducted by Demons Recap

I don't feel like I got all my thoughts out on this arc so I'm going to make a general post. I'll probably do this for every arc.

This is the first arc of the series. So it has to make sure a new reader understands the premise and what to expect through the series. The first half of this arc is very exposition heavy as a result. Once the audience knows what is going on, the story focuses on the mood.

Throughout the first half, we get glimpses of how something is not right about the village but the second half goes completely off the deep end. There will be moments that are more graphic and unnerving than what happens in this arc, but the first arc needed to be extreme so anyone curious will understand whether or not they're interested or can handle this series.

And as for the art style, I absolutely loved how Karin Suzuragi drew eyes throughout the arc. In particular, I loved the moments where a single uncanny panel would be included in an otherwise normal scene.

My absolute favorite panel in the arc is when Rena asks Keiichi if he ate the ohagi. Nothing before or after that panel is unusual. Then that one panel pops in and you can feel a shiver go down your spine only for everything to continue as if nothing happened.

And all it would take is a little bit of detail in her eyes to remove the uncanniness and unease this panel causes.

Since this is the first arc, the story also had to blitz through the process of establishing everyone's closeness. The arc is entirely focused of Keiichi and Rena's relation and how it completely collapses when Keiichi finds out about the series of murders in Hinamizawa. On a reread, Keiichi and Rena's friendship felt like it was focused on to the point the other characters are essentially background characters. Later arcs will flesh them out more, but we don't know much abut Mion, Satoko, or Rika outside their connections to the murder victims.

Similarly, Tomitake interacts with the main cast far more in this arc than he does in later ones. It makes his death hit harder.

Some notes about major characters from this arc:

Keiichi Maebara: He moved to Hinamizawa three weeks ago.

Rena Ryugu: Birth name "Reina".She had moved out of Hinamizawa when she was younger. At some point she assaulted three boys with a bat and smashed every window in her school. In her psych evaluations, she frequently talked about Oyashiro-sama as if she is possessed by it. She moved back to Hinamizawa a year ago.

Mion Sonozaki: Leader of the group's after-school club. She has several misdemeanors due to her actions during the village's protest against the dam project.

Satoko Hojo: Related to the second and fourth set of victims

Rika Furude: Related to the third set of victims

Curaudo Ooishi: A detective with the local prefecture who wants to figure out the cause of all the deaths. He suspects a group within the village is behind the deaths.

Jirou Tomitake: A photographer who visits Hinamizawa several times through the year. He died by scratching out his throat.

Miyo Takano: A nurse at the local clinic. She went missing after the Cotton Drifting Festival.

Satoshi Hojo: Satoko's older brother. He used to be part of the after-school club. He disappeared a year ago. Prior to his disappearance, he started carrying a bat and practiced his swinging. He also became distant from the club.

Now let's go over what we know or suspect about the murder mysteries:

Since 1979, someone has died each year during the Cotton Drifting Festival.

The first death was the director of the Dam Project. He was murdered and dismembered by several people. The person who took the right arm is still at large. However, the Director might still be alive.

The second death was Satoko's parents. They fell off a cliff. The wife's body was never found.

The third death was Rika's parents. Her father died of an illness and her mother drowned herself in the swamp. Her body was never found.

The fourth death was Satoko's aunt. She was beaten to death. Satoko's brother Satoshi also went missing around that time.

The fifth death was Jirou Tomitake. He clawed out his throat after apparently being attacked by several people. Miyo Takano has also gone missing. Tomitake's death is suspected of being drug induced.

Every death has a pattern of one discovered death and one missing person. People in the village refer to the disappearances as the person being "demoned away"

The villagers refer to the series of deaths as Oyashiro-sama's curse due to the connections to the dam project. However, each new victim is less and less connected to the project. Tomitake had no connection at all, and Ooishi suspects the murderers are just targeting outsiders at this point.

back

#higurashi when they cry #higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi no naku koro ni reread

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weirdpersonifiedpills · 2 months

Text

🌟💊-Welcome!-💊🌟

Heyo, I’m Mouthy (@mouthydraws), welcome to my funny pill blog! I’m an autistic artist with a special interest in pharmacology, specially psychiatric medications, more specifically antidepressants, even more specifically SSRIs. A lot of the stuff I post here will be older until I’m able to catch up, but that hopefully won’t take too long!

New blog for my medication personifications? First post obviously has to be the SSRI lineup from 2022, here come the white-tailed deer ready to fight for your mental health!

From left to right: Zelmid (zimelidine), Luvox (fluvoxamine), Prozac (fluoxetine), Zoloft (sertraline), Paxil (paroxetine), Celexa (citalopram), and Lexapro (escitalopram)

SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors) are a class of antidepressants used to treat a variety of mental illnesses, most notably anxiety disorders and depression. They’re my absolute favorite class and the reason I’m currently in college for pharmacology. Prozac’s history in particular is my favorite to read about, so expect plenty of him and his history lol.

F.A.Q.

What are personified pills?

Personified pills are, as the name suggests, personifications of medications. Each aspect of the character, from their design to their personality, is carefully chosen based on historical, chemical, and pharmacological aspects of the actual medication. I enjoy drawing the characters in scenes that reference the real-life history of said drug.

Are these your OCs?

Yes. While I don’t own the idea of personifying medications, the designs and characters themselves do belong to me. You’re welcome to design your own personifications, or use mine with credit!

Why are they animals/furries?

Each class of drugs is a different animal species, I think it adds a lot to the characters, and specific animals are chosen in the same way every other aspect of the characters are chosen. Having the characters be animals also allows for clear distinctions between drug classes. I don’t enjoy drawing humans, but even if I did, I’d still keep them as animals.

Do you have a personification for *insert medication here*

All of my personifications are on my Toyhouse (@mouthydraws) under the ‘Medications’ folder. It can take some background knowledge on the class of the drug/possible subclasses or categories to find some of them, so I’ll also be uploading all of them here and using tags to make them easier to locate. If you have a specific medication you want to see, feel free to let me know!

Will you personify illegal drugs?

Given that most illegal drugs either didn’t start out as illegal or are only illegal in certain forms/circumstances, yes. I’ve started on the opioid personifications, and diacetylmorphine (her0in) is definitely going to be a part of that, as well as ADHD medications, which means m3thamphetamine hydrochloride (crystal m3th) is also on the horizon.

Are real people/names included in character lore?

No, I try to keep real people out of the personified pill lore, as it is fiction that’s simply based on actual events. A lot of the history behind these medications can be upsetting, and I do my best to treat these events with the respect they deserve. I’ll talk a lot about drug companies (Eli Lilly, Pfizer, Novartis, AstraZeneca, etc. etc.) but I won’t mention anyone specific lore-wise. I enjoy talking about drug history OUTSIDE of these characters, and will probably do that here too (with appropriate tags of course).

My inbox is always open, but I’m more active on Instagram and Twitter (@mouthydraws). I post a lot of WIPs and general pharmacology ramblings on my Instagram stories, so if you’re interested come check it out! I’m always looking for more pharmacology mutuals!!

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there-was-a-hole-here-itsgonenow · 2 years

Text

Contrast of El’s and Will’s playlists for Midleven and Byler

Because I’ve been looking into Mike’s and Will’s playlists, I thought I should explore El’s too. I wondered how many of her songs might indicate her ill-fitting relationship with Mike.

Eleven’s Breakfast Jams has SO MANY songs about unhealthy/ insecure relationships and breaking up or breaking away from a relationship. And just straight-up wanting out of a relationship and even finding independence and self-confidence. There’s barely a genuine love song in her entire playlist. It’s kind of incredible.

One of these songs I want to point out at the moment is Kept Me Crying by HAIM.

There’s a particular set of lyrics from this song that is a dead ringer for a certain scene with El and Mike:

“Kept me crying for so long, my tears have dried

When I hear your voice, those tears they come back to mind

So don’t call me just to tell me

You don’t love me anymore

Still it wrecks me ‘cause

I was your lover

I was your friend

Now I’m only just someone you call

When it’s late enough to forget”

It’s a realization, clearly, just like El realizes good and well that Mike is not in love with her. Mike insists otherwise, but El knows better. And it hurts a lot and makes her feel worse during a horribly low moment. Maybe she thinks she’s just someone he’s been writing letters to at this point. Where does she stand? “I was your lover, I was your friend.” “Was.” They need to rearrange the way their relationship is—to step back as a couple and actually reestablish a friendship. After that monologue, El knows this more than anyone. She’s not going to want to return to an insecurity-driven, loveless ‘romance.’

I couldn’t help but compare this song to Will’s second-to-last song, Breakdown:

“It’s alright if you love me

It’s alright if you don’t

I’m not afraid of you running away honey

I get the feeling you won’t

There is no sense in pretending

Your eyes give you away

Something inside you is feeling like I do

We said all there is to say”

“It’s alright if you love me, It’s alright if you don’t”… and yet the singer is confident the one he loves feels the way he does. In fact, he’s secure about it. The song indicates an understanding of mutual feelings.

In relation to Mike and Will, we already see the signs of their friendship gradually stepping toward romance. We know Mike isn’t going to run from Will. Will may think otherwise for now, as of the end of Vol. 2 and whatnot with his band-aid-ripping, but he is going to realize Mike is feeling the same way he is. The pretending we see from them and their eyes that reveal so much love for each other is going to become clear to them. They’ll finally, mutually, know.

Part 2

#they'll figure it out #all these kids deserve better #jane be the strong single gal i know you can be #will put the band-aid back on #mike... i believe in you buddy #el's playlist #will's playlist #will byers #mike wheeler #byler #byler analysis #byler theory

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bleachbleachbleach · 9 months

Note

For the Fanfic Writing Meme: 22, 23, and 25. Thanks!

Fic Writing Meme

Oh man, these ones were super challenging but very thought-provoking on my end!!

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

I am not by nature a linear or plot-driven person, and am very happy just kind of. Exploring. Rhizomatically. XDD Which can be difficult when it comes to writing because I feel like I don’t have very much reflex for thinking, "I need to know what happens next!" Instead I’m like, oh, would it be beneficial to this story if there were any sense of suspense or destination? It would??

In the plot sense, I feel like usually it’s not surprising to me or the reader where the fic ends; it just slots into whatever comes next in the canon. In the sense of where a character ends up at the end of a story, I feel like I usually have a proposition for where I think they’ll end up, or an image I'd like to end on. But I try not to nail it down because I believe in writing as exploration, and if I’m too rigid about where something’s going, too early, it ends up feeling canned, or over-directed. So at best I have a suggestion of an ending, and whether it stays the ending really depends on how the character(s) end up feeling about it as the scenes develop.

23. How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)?

When I was working on the Timey Wimey Train chapters of the Train Fic, their shape changed a LOT from draft to draft, and some of it related to content but a lot of it related to where the chapter breaks were going to fall. There were some iterations that left off on cliffhangers (oh look! suspense!) but I’d look at them and be like, LOL that’s dumb as hell. Cheap thrills! An episode teaser during Sweeps! In that particular instance, when I was choosing where the breaks would happen, the main things I was making choices about were things like, Does this break function as an effective suspense builder or red herring, or is it a disingenuous act? Is this a good faith deception, or is it not? Is any deception of any flavor actually beneficial here? (No.)

My impulse is to tell a full story in a chapter—to have thematic or narrative threads that build over the course of a chapter and reach a satisfying node (landing pad, even if not endpoint) by the end. But then I remind myself that a chapter is not a full story, and my trying to treat it as such goes right back to that sense of a thing being over-directed. My reminder to myself is that what I really want is a chapter that tells almost a full story—there’s some kind of narrative satisfaction; a sense that the ending is someplace different than the beginning; but I don’t actually want it to come full circle, or resolve, or answer more things than it asks.

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?

In the sense of like, dead dove-type things, there’s nothing that’s going to upset or bother me in that regard. I’m a big fan of being upset my media—things that can engender in my things other than 'happy' or 'sad'; I love things that make me feel characters' frustration, disgust, other forms of upset. So when if I’m upset about media it’s probably on purpose and I’m happy about it.

I’ve DEFINITELY felt bad about things I’ve written, because X happened, or because Y chose to do Z. And I’ll be like, wah, I’m sorry!! But either I can be like, but that is the story as it’s meant to be, and you know it, Character Y. Or I work on it until I end up as close to that feeling as possible.

The fic where I’ve felt that battle most strongly wasn’t for Bleach, but involved child abuse by someone who wasn’t ill-intentioned or villainous but under no circumstances should have been left with anyone’s children, and it’s kind of hard to say "well this is how it’s MEANT TO BE." Maybe it’s more of a "you know this happened, Character Y. You do."

For Bleach, it wasn’t upsetting so much as deeply uncomfortable, but the two sentences in the Train Fic where Hinamori’s like, well, Hitsugaya has a good memory and a gift for extrapolation and if he wanted to imagine her naked body he probably would not struggle to do so, but that she didn’t think he did—I was like WOW WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I HAVE NO DESIRE TO THINK ABOUT THAT LOL. Which was maybe an instance of narrator Hinamori telling *me* this is my story as it’s meant to be and you know it. XDDD

#thank you for playing! <3333 #no brain just bleach #asks

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wizisbored · 2 months

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for the fic ask if you want!! 18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles? and 40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

18 - usually it'll be sometime between starting writing and finishing the first chapter. sometimes it happens where im ready to post chapter one and have to think of a title and its awful and i hate it. very rarely, ill have a title pop into my head right at the start and its great because i find titles quite hard (i knew snake oil would be called that from the start). as for how, i can only really say With Difficulty. most of the time i complain to @acecreamcone about it until i figure something out. but as much as i find them difficult i do really like most of my titles. in particular id say The Running Iron, Heritance of an Occultist, Until We Wake, Blood/The Book in the Birdbath, and The Paranormal Investigative Society of Dormitory Four are some of my favourites.

40 - im fortunate enough to have recieved a fair amount of fanart already (its all up on my wardrobe, im looking at it as i type) but if someone were to make more, obviously anything would be cherished but id kinda like to see some of netherborne. its my longest fic ive put loads of time and thought into it and not to play favourites but its one of my favourites. i kinda have a feeling that it might not have gotten any because its on the whumpier side of my stuff so people might not be as comfortable drawing it and i totally get that, but like if theres anyone out there willing to draw my fucked up lil gal... 👀

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wandering-soul-1993 · 2 years

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This story comes with a ⚠️ MASSIVE trigger warning ⚠️ for child illness. I dealt with one of the most traumatic experiences of my life this week that resulted in the death of a baby. Writing is how I cope and how I process. This is rough, and I probably missed a lot in editing, but I gave it a happy ending. This story is how I wish things would have ended. Also, I chose Armand for this one because (correct me if I'm wrong) I think there's a scene in Devil's Minion of him giving money to trick-or-treaters; I thought he'd be a good fit. I don't mean to offend; I don't mean to hurt anyone. I'm simply trying to understand.

------

RELIEF

At first he thought the crying was coming from inside his mind, though why he would imagine an infant’s cry, he had no idea. Armand stopped in his tracks; Daniel kept walking, only realizing he was alone when he reached the corner. When Daniel turned back, he saw Armand staring up at the whitewashed façade of the hospital. The red EMERGENCY sign lighting up almost an entire parking lot and spilling out into the street.

“What are you doing?” Daniel asked, coming back to stand next to his maker.

“Don’t you hear it, Daniel?” Armand asked softly.

“Hear what?"

“The crying.”

Daniel turned his attention to the automatic doors constantly sliding open and shut. “I hear a lot of crying; it’s a hospital.”

Armand shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “It’s a baby.”

Daniel cocked his head. “Yeah…” he answered, unsure of what was happening. “I hear a lot of babies crying. They’re born here, you know.”

Armand turned his large brown eyes to his minion. “I’m not talking about those babies, Danny. I’m talking about one in particular.”

Daniel sighed. “Well, you’re going to have to point them out for me, because I hear an entire nursey of squalling little offspring.” He crossed his arms.

“Very well,” Armand agreed, and rushed inside the emergency department.

Daniel didn’t have any time at all to make any attempts to persuade him otherwise. Even as a vampire, he almost had to break into a run to keep up with Armand’s lightening speed. They were moving too fast to be seen, Armand effortlessly dodging and weaving between patients, doctors, and visitors while poor Daniel was left dancing some kind of uncoordinated ballet to keep from bumping into anyone.

When they reached the elevators Armand paused long enough to smash the up arrow, leaving Daniel to jump between the closing doors. “Where the hell are we going?” he demanded, slumping against the wall.

“You said you wanted me to point the baby out,” Armand told him. “That’s what I’m doing.”

The fourth floor was painted some of the brightest colors Daniel had ever seen. Blues, greens, reds and yellows created a surprisingly comforting atmosphere while recognizable cartoon characters waved and pointed visitors towards the patient rooms. They past the Hundred Acre Woods, Micky Mouse’s Clubhouse and the island where the wild things are on their way towards this mysterious crying that Daniel still hadn’t heard. He knew better than to say anything, though. Armand was beyond determined to show Daniel this child, though what Armand would do next, he wasn’t sure.

He stopped so suddenly that Daniel nearly ran into him. The door had the most uninviting clown taped to it, but damn it they tried their best. Armand pushed the door open slowly, making sure the hinges didn’t creak.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Daniel asked, looking up and down the hall.

Armand didn’t answer, only stepped completely inside the room. Every monitor known to man must have been hanging on the wall, each with it’s own individual line that connected to a tiny body lying motionless in a hospital crib. The poor thing couldn’t have been a year old, at best, and her breathing came in shallow, hurried gasps. The heart monitor was either racing or plummeting. Across the room, curled up on the small, brick-hard couch, were two adults Daniel assumed were the girl’s parents. They stirred in their unrestful sleep, clinging to each other desperately.

Armand approached the crib and stared down at the pink swaddled bundle for a long time. Daniel stepped closer as well. The top of her head was wrapped entirely in bandages, iodine stains visible through the hair. Her blue eyes hung half-opened and lusterless. Daniel realized that she really wasn’t breathing on her own, a machine was doing that for her; it seemed like these machines were doing more for her than she was on her own.

The pain in the room was palpable, the stress tangible. Daniel’s Mind Gift wasn’t entirely developed yet, but he was able to surmise from the parents’ dreams that this was an accident; a horrible and unfair accident—one that only God himself could orchestrate and execute—had left this poor little human in the state she was in.

Daniel glanced back at the sleeping parents. “What happened?” he asked, but Armand only shrugged. “What are you going to do?” He wasn’t sure if he’d get an answer for that either.

He didn’t answer in words. Instead Armand pushed the blanket down, away from the baby’s face, exposing a chest full of sticky monitor pads and wires, the little lungs blowing up and deflating mechanically. Armand brushed the baby’s cheek and she twitched. “It’s alright, little one,” Daniel heard him say. “I’m going to help you.”

“You’re going to what?”

Armand didn’t look up at Daniel, but somehow he knew Armand’s expression was telling him to shut up. He stepped back from the crib and the other vampire, keeping an eye on the parents who were beginning to stir. Whatever Armand was going to do, he better do it fast. Daniel turned back to the crib in just enough time to see Armand prick his thumb on one of his fangs. Daniel gasped and covered his mouth. “Are you seriously doing what I think you’re doing?!”

“Just a drop or two,” Armand said without looking up. “She’s only a baby.”

“Are you crazy?” Daniel was beginning to panic. Who in their right mind—vampiric or otherwise—would give a child this dark blood? Armand of all people should know how that scenario ends.

Armand pushed the intubation tube out of the way slightly, making just enough room for his thumb to swipe against the baby’s tongue. She swallowed and almost instantly began to cough. Daniel gripped his hair with both hands, threatening to rip it out. They’d killed her; they’d killed this baby and they were going to be caught and experimented on and that was the end of it. Armand, calm as ever, simply stepped back and took Daniel’s hand. Together they watched as one monitor after another stopped blinking; all of them stopped beeping. The heart monitor steadied itself and the oxygen intake number began to rise. The baby, however, was still coughing profusely.

“I don’t think she can breathe on her own with that tube in,” Daniel said, though it was only a guess based on something he’d seen on one of those doctor shows. Armand looked up at him for the first time that night in alarm, his eyes begging for Daniel to fix the situation. At first, Daniel wasn’t sure what to do, but then his eyes fell on the bright red call button on the wall. He pushed it and immediately a light out in the hall above the door began to flash. “We need to get out of here; I just called for medical staff.”

They had just enough time to slip out as two nurses came flying into the room. Daniel and Armand stayed pressed against the darkened wall, listening to the commotion. The parents were awake now, and they were demanding to know what was going on with their daughter.

“I—I don’t understand it. She wasn’t going to last the night,” one of the nurses was saying. The mother began to cry hysterically. “No,” the nurse continued. “That’s what’s so amazing. She’s stable now. Go get the doctor; he’ll want to see this.”

They watched the second nurse disappear around the corner only to return minutes later with a tall, dark-skinned man. “What do you mean she’s stable?” he was asking as they ran.

“Her numbers,” the nurse panted. “I can’t believe it.”

Daniel leaned closer to the door trying to catch bits and pieces of the muffled conversation. It was a miracle, one of the nurses said. It couldn’t be explained by medical science. The baby wasn’t meant to see the sunrise, she was that far gone. In the next moment they heard the little girl’s crying as the tube was removed from her throat, followed by the harrowing sobs of relief from both her mother and father. The medical staff stepped out, telling the family they would be back to make sure the baby’s vitals were still good and her stats were holding. Each of them, Daniel saw, was just as dumbfounded as the next.

“You knew that would help, didn’t you?” Daniel whispered. Armand only smiled. “You know that was a good thing you did. Maybe you’re not such a devil after all.”

Armand chuckled. “I’ll always be a devil, sweet Danny, but only to those who want me to be.”

#vc #vampire chronicles #the vampire armand #daniel malloy #may be triggering #triggering themes #emotional triggers #vamptember

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lordoftherazzles · 2 years

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Day 06: Sweet Treats AU Verse: Between Vices and Virtues

Setting, Chapter 6 (Pre-final scene). Erebor has a visitor, a mighty important one at that, and Thorin is ill-prepared to host for an unexpected birthday party when his chef is out sick for the afternoon. Good thing Bilbo knows his way around a kitchen! (3113 words)

Happiest of birthdays to my friend, @mysandwichranaway!! You’ve been such a great friend to me and such a wonderful art partner to work with. I hope you have the best day, even if it’s quiet and relaxing! I wanted to do a little something for your birthday, and I hope you enjoy this, with the world we both built and love! (And yes, this “drabble” DEFINITELY got away from me loooool.)

I’m not sure how many I’ll finish, but I wanted to participate in a few of these #fotfictober prompts with some of my favorite universes!

If you want to see any specific prompts/AU verses, send me an ask!

I’m primarily using the universes I’ve already created (i.e. modern au fics like bookbinder//songwriter, where the shadows lie, etc.)

This by no means mean they’ll be canon to that particular story - like what you read? Maybe it could be canon.

These are small drabbles and I will not be spending a ton of time on them as I am working on other projects.

Bilbo had been trying to track down Thorin for a good fifteen minutes by now. After a meeting with Balin and a few representatives of the Iron Hills, it had been nearly impossible to track Erebor’s king down. That was the life of a busy royal though, and now that Bilbo was staying within the palace, rather than forking out money for a hotel, he got a bigger behind-the-scenes look at Thorin’s life. It wasn’t all coffee shop visits and duck feeding, but time was still made for the little things—much to Bilbo’s relief.

Today was supposed to be one of those days. A quiet afternoon spent scouring through the local museum at various pieces of artwork and history, but there was no other half to be found. The best place to start was with Balin, and if not him, then Nori. If anyone could find Thorin, it was the spymaster of the mountain kingdom.

“Oh, Bilbo! How nice to see you. Did you sleep well?” Balin asked with a twinkle in his eye that had been very common when speaking to the palace’s long-term guest.

“I did, thank you,” Bilbo chuckled, even though this was a conversation he and Balin had nearly every morning. “Have you seen Thorin? I know you had a meeting with him this morning…”

“I did see him take off for the kitchen with his nephews, not that I can guarantee you’ll find him there, but it’s where I would start.”

The kitchen. That sounded perfect! And Bilbo’s rumbling stomach agreed as he flashed a grin. “Thanks! I’ll see you around!” Without much else, Bilbo set off, walking at a brisk pace through the halls that still managed to get him turned around after several weeks of truly getting to know the place. At least the kitchens of Erebor weren’t hard to find, usually, all you had to do was follow the smell. Bombur always had something good on the stove for the royal family, but as Bilbo tilted his chin up, his nose giving a wiggle as he sniffed, no delightful scent came back to him.

That was odd.

It was the clattering sound of metal against the floor that had Bilbo flinching, even if he had yet to set foot in the kitchen. Peering through the doorway and spotting Thorin with his head hanging and his hands pressed to the counter, it was obvious the king was in a state of distress. Fili and Kili patting his shoulders was another dead giveaway.

“What’s going on here?” Bilbo asked carefully upon entry as he looked down at a metallic bowl turned on its head, and a powdery mixture covering the floor. “Where’s Bombur?”

“Out sick,” Fili answered with a shrug and a sympathetic smile towards Bilbo. “And with some of the staff with their hands full already, Uncle has taken it upon himself to fill in for Bombur. Which is going as well as it looks.” Patting Thorin on his back as the king wilted even more, Fili moved to start cleaning up the mess on the floor with Kili.

“Is there something important going on? I thought we were going to visit the museum—“

“We will need to raincheck the visit,” Thorin sighed, his shoulders loosening a bit as he stood up straighter to face Bilbo and looked akin to the mess on the ground. “We have a visitor to the mountain, and it would be in poor taste to not welcome him properly, especially when a day of importance is upon us.”

“Is that what the meeting this morning was about?” Bilbo asked with a tilt of his head.

Thorin merely bobbed his head in confirmation before stepping over to be directly in front of Bilbo, placing his hands on his significant other’s shoulders and pressing their foreheads together. “Forgive me, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

And as a blush crept onto Bilbo’s cheeks, he couldn’t help but grin. “Duty always calls for the King of Erebor, don’t worry about it. However, if you’d like the help…I do know my way around the kitchen relatively well.” Besides, Thorin was distressed, and even though this apron-wearing, man bun sporting, flour-coated king looked like a foodie’s dream, Bilbo wanted to help. This was one of his favorite hobbies, after all!

“You would do that?”

Bilbo nearly scoffed at the sound and look of bewilderment that Thorin had about him. “Of course. Besides, if crying over spilled cake mix is how you’re going to act, you need an expert in the kitchen.”

“I wasn’t crying,” Thorin grumbled, only to feel the burn of embarrassment at the tips of his ears as his young nephews both fell into a fit of laughter. “But against my better judgment, I got myself into this mess…and I would be grateful for your help getting out of it.” Those sharp blue eyes shifted to stare at his giggling nephews, but that glower didn’t hold the same effect as it once did. Ever since Bilbo had come into his life, Thorin had softened and learned to appreciate his family rather than try to control every aspect of their lives. They were just teenagers though, a little defiance and annoyance felt necessary. “Go help your mother decorate. Far away from the kitchen.” The less heckling, the better.

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Kili cheered, hooking his arm with Fili’s and half-dragging his brother out the door.

Meanwhile, Bilbo had managed to track down another apron, rolling up his sleeves and settling in at Thorin’s side. “Now, tell me something about this guest. What do they like?”

“What…do they like?” Thorin questioned with an arched brow, trying to tuck some of those loose curly strands back into the hair tie that secured the majority of his hair. “Like what? Hobbies?”

“Favorite flavors, maybe even color if you know anything about them. That way we know where to start. No one wants a bland dessert after all. Anyone can do plain vanilla or chocolate, but we’re going to make it better than that.” And to say that Bilbo was excited would be an understatement. He loved baking, whether he was in the calmest of moods or deep into the pits of stress, it was a coping mechanism for him, and now he’d get to show Thorin how it worked. It was like bringing a little bit of the Shire to Erebor–which was a vacation that had Bilbo practically buzzing in his shoes.

Thorin dropped his head a bit in thought, his arms folding across his chest as a humming sound buzzed between his lips. “I think he likes…fruits, those pair well with desserts, no?”

“Yes! That’s a step in the right direction. Now, if this was you, I would suggest blueberries or blackberries–”

“Strawberries, maybe?”

Coincidentally, those were one of Bilbo’s favorites. Not that he minded Thorin’s taste in sweet treats, but there was just something luscious and delicious about strawberries that no other food could touch. “Now you’re speaking my language, strawberries it is. And do you want to make a full cake? Or something smaller?”

“When I had inquired to Balin about the difficulty of a three-tier cake, that was with Bombur in mind. I am not…quite that confident, even with your help.”

“How about cupcakes? They’re small, no one has to cut any slices, and honestly, they’re simple to make. I think even you could handle them without my help if you tried.”

The cheesy grin was enough to make Thorin smirk, rolling his eyes and moving to put ingredients to the side of his former workstation before stepping aside. “Cupcakes with a strawberry flair, it sounds good enough to me, and I think our guest will be none the wiser on who made them.” Not that it mattered, but a good impression was always the goal. “You lead, I’ll follow, Bilbo.”

Which was more exciting to hear than it should have been, and Bilbo wasn’t going to disappoint his boyfriend if he could help it, regardless of that rather impressive title Thorin wore. “Yes, Your Majesty!” And while the eager cheer brought a sigh of exasperation from Thorin, Bilbo knew it all came from a good place. If you couldn’t tease your lover, then what was the point?

And Thorin was just such an easy target when it came to teasing.

==========

“You want to wait for the cupcakes to cool before we frost them, but everything is ready. Give them a few more minutes and then we can wrap these up,” Bilbo spoke confidently, dusting his hands against his apron and looking towards the mess that was left behind in the wake of their baking adventure for a few sweet treats.

A few? More like four dozen, but the impressive kitchen setup that Bombur got to work with daily was more than capable of handling some cupcakes. It was a dream kitchen in comparison to the one at home in Bag End, size-wise, and Bilbo wondered if the resident chef would let him use it more often.

“They smell good, I almost want to see what they taste like–” As one hand of Thorin’s crept towards the warm pan of cupcakes, one of Bilbo’s gave a firm swat to his wrist like an ill-behaved pup being swatted with a newspaper.

“Not yet! Sure, the sponge smells delicious, but you’ll want the icing as well!”

“Fine, we do it your way. But a taste test is necessary before I serve these to the guest of honor.”

Packing away some of the whipped-up frosting into a piping bag, Bilbo nudged his elbow against Thorin’s arm to gain the other’s attention. “Now watch how I do this, then I want you to copy me.”

“Me? No–”

“You’ll do fine. I know for a fact you have steady hands.” Bilbo’s brows waggled a bit at the commentary, but it had spurred Thorin into blushing again, as well as paying attention. “Start from the outside edge and go in a circular motion. Press an equal amount of pressure against the bag, and just swirl it until the cupcake is frosted entirely.” Pulling the bag away to reveal a beautifully frosted cupcake, Bilbo reached for a sliced piece of strawberry before gently dabbing that on the very tip of the frosting swirl. “Tada! Strawberry cupcakes for your guest. Now you try.”

Skeptical and hesitant as he was to take the bag, Thorin knew Bilbo wouldn’t let him out of this, and if this one turned out ugly…well, it’d be the taste tester one anyway. Swirling the bag in the same motion, going as steady and carefully as possible, it might not have looked like an expert dessert, but even Thorin had to admit it didn’t look half bad. Especially once Bilbo plopped a piece of strawberry on the top.

“See? That wasn’t so bad. You can take over for Bombur any day now! I’m sure he’ll love some extra vacation time.”

“Oh no, no, no, no.” But maybe on days like today when his resident chef was out of the kitchen, it wouldn’t be so bad stepping in. For small things anyway. “Let’s get these frosted, we don’t have much time before the celebration.”

“Do you want me to finish while you go change–” Bilbo had started, grabbing a second bag to help pipe the rest of the cupcakes, but the flash of a grin from Thorin halted him.

“I can change later when everyone’s distracted by cupcakes. Besides, we wouldn’t want you looking like the only flour-coated mess around here, would we?” Shooting Bilbo a wink and getting back to work, Thorin merely hummed the rest of the time as they found a system that worked best. Thorin worked on the left few cupcake pans, while Bilbo took the right, both saving the strawberry slices for last.

When each cupcake was decorated and had the proper toppings, Thorin plucked out a single candle from a box in one of the upper cupboards. “It’s not a proper birthday without one of these, I know that much. One may not seem like a lot, but I don’t think he’ll mind considering the circumstances.”

“What’s his name, anyway? We could have tried to write his initials or something.” Difficult as that might have been, Bilbo didn’t want Thorin to look bad in front of whatever prestigious guest they were hosting.

“I don’t think that would have turned out well, but his name…? I don’t–”

“There you are!” Dis shouted urgently upon her entrance to the kitchen. “Our guests have arrived and you’re still baking? Thorin, your presence is needed. You and Bilbo both.”

Shucking his apron aside and casting a concerned look at Bilbo, Thorin merely shrugged. “I’ll send for the cupcakes–but we can take this one. The one with the candle, it’ll be a perfect introduction.” Placing the solo treat on a plate, adjusting the candle, and handing over a lighter to Bilbo from one of the junk drawers (which was amazing that a palace like this had one of those), Thorin was off, trying to catch up to Dis’ heels as they echoed against the stone floor.

“You look nervous,” Bilbo pointed out as he struggled to keep up with Thorin’s longer stride.

“I’m not nervous, it’s fine…” He breathed out in a tone that contradicted the words. “I just want everything to go right. I’ve been trying very hard to ensure that things run smoothly around here, and this is no exception.”

And Bilbo loved Thorin for that! He truly was trying and his efforts were already bearing fruit–strawberries, apparently.

Dis had disappeared into the ballroom, the doors shutting behind her and leaving Bilbo and Thorin on the other side.

“You go first,” Thorin urged with a nod of his head.

“But what about the door–”

“I’ll be fine, thank you. Now, if you would…?”

Sighing, there was no use in arguing with Thorin’s lack of logic at this given moment, so all that was left was to comply, and as Bilbo emerged into the ballroom, coated in flour where his apron from before hadn’t saved him, a shout of surprise rang in his ears.

There stood Dis alongside her sons. Dwalin and Balin, Nori and his siblings–Bombur was standing right there looking perfectly healthy with his brother and cousin at his side! Alongside a handful of others that Bilbo had met during his time in Erebor. Even Gandalf had shown up! Which made this entire heart attack being yelled at him all the more confusing.

Perhaps it was the “Happy Birthday Bilbo” sign that should have clued him in, but for a moment, Bilbo stood frozen and simply staring at the happy faces of his newfound comrades. “What…? My birthday isn’t even for a week…” Bilbo breathed, turning to face Thorin who had his hands extended with a plate, a single cupcake, and a lit candle at the top.

“I know, but we’ll be gone when your birthday arrives, and everyone wanted to do something nice for your special day.” Thorin included. It may not have been an elegant party that might be thrown in Mirkwood or a lively festival like that of Dale, but it was a gathering of friends and family that mattered most. That was what birthdays were about. “Better make a wish.”

Dumbfounded and taken by complete surprise, Bilbo spared another glance towards the grinning company that had gathered to celebrate…well…him! Albeit a week early, but it made sense, and had kept him from suspecting anything along the way. “Are you telling me…I just baked the cupcakes for my own birthday party?”

Thorin shrugged, careful not to jostle the sweet treat he had in his hands. “You offered, I accepted. At least that way I knew you’d like whatever I managed…and it kept you busy while everyone else was busy setting this up.”

Sneaky Ereborians and their…sneaky behaviors!

Exasperated and filled with joy all at once, Bilbo just took the opportunity to blow out the candle as a round of applause fell dull to his ears. His eyes focused on Thorin so quickly and so carefully, and if Bilbo wasn’t mistaken, behind that soft smile was a glint of mischief in those blue eyes. Plucking the candle from his cupcake, Bilbo took the treat into his hands. “We never did get to taste test these…” He mused quietly, that same little glimmer of mischief flaring up in his eyes.

Then his hand launched forward. A mixture of strawberry sponge cake with cream cheese icing smashed its way into the center of Thorin’s face, decorating his nose, his beard, and practically splattering to his eyes.

“How does it taste?” Bilbo asked with a flutter of his eyes, watching Thorin clear his own with his hands after tossing aside a plate to the nearest table. “You know what, I’ll just find out for myself.” Rising on his toes and reaching for Thorin’s hands to give them a loving and reassuring squeeze, Bilbo savored that sweet taste as soon as his lips met Thorin’s. He was happy, and to think that so many people had wanted to celebrate him before they left for their trip to the Shire.

Pulling back with frosting coating a few good portions of his face, Bilbo grinned before bopping his finger against that beaky nose of Thorin’s. “Just as sweet as I thought they would be, you did well.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Thorin chuckled lightly, swiping a bit more of the frosting from his face. “You could have given me a warning though. Had I known you were about to shove cake my way, I would have at least opened up…”

“A surprise for a surprise, now we’re even.” Bilbo’s grin was wide just as it was bright. “I couldn’t resist, I’m sorry. You did say you were going to get cleaned up while everyone was distracted with cupcakes!”

“Indeed,” Thorin sighed, his hands resting on Bilbo’s shoulders again. “But I guess I’ll just have to take you with me.” Dropping his forehead to meet Bilbo’s before rubbing those frosting-coated cheeks against the top of Bilbo’s head, Thorin couldn’t help but laugh. A laugh that came straight from the gut as Bilbo fussed and squirmed with a light laugh of his own. “Happy almost birthday, darling. I do hope you enjoy it.”

“Don’t worry, Thorin, this is one I’ll never forget.” And now Bilbo could only hope for many more of these joyous days filled with love and playfulness with this man. “Just wait until your birthday.”

“I look forward to it, Bilbo.” Surprises, sweet treats, and all.

#the hobbit #bagginshield #thilbo #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #thorin x bilbo #modern!au #mysandwichranaway #happiest of birthdays my friend!!!#razzledrabbles #razzywrites #fic: between vices and virtues #i didn't expect this to be so long but here we are #sandy our universe is just that amazing

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