Streets are filled with --

I'm not a 100% about posting this as an on-going WIP, but letting it sit and gather words is like watching cotton-candy grow out of proportion. Better to release it into the DW wild before pruning it down for AO3? 8D?

Also, my titling skills do not, it seems, get better with age...

Handling

Fandom: Naruto
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kakashi; Minato and cast.
Warnings: Set during the Third Shinobi World War.
Summary: This is about how Kakashi handles.

1964 words and, mmm, gen!

( Hatake Kakashi, jounin, reported to the Hokage the loss of one of his team-members; other than that, the enemy had been prevented from taking a critical position, and the mission at Kannabi could be called a success.  )

This fic took my soul, beat it up, and when I wasn't looking, took it and beat it up some more, and then kicked it in the face. I am happy to let it out into the wilds; I want to set it free so that it will let go of my heart and the claws it has sank into it. I thank charlie_d_blue for hearing my confessions. Without you, Ambiguous Backstory Is Nothing.

So yeah, my GQMF. This is Inception/Ocean's 11, Slash If You Squint, Image-Heavy, Over 4000, OMFG, BBQ. ABCD. E. F. Maybe even a G. MY HANDS. WILL THEY EVER STOP SHAKING.


There are many things I will apologise for in the morning when I have my brains, including but not limited to: managling US phone numbers, mangling Chinese, mangling Photoshop, mangling architecture, mangling Japanese, mangling your eyesight. 以上です。



I Don't Think You Think I Think About Probability

Fandom: Inception, Ocean's 11
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Every effing one. Eames, Ariadne, Saito, Cobb, Arthur, Cast. Danny, Rusty, Cast.
Warnings: Slash if you squint. In all directions.
Summary: Saito, on a vacation with thieves and thieves.

4822 words and more everything than I can ever enumerate, ever.

( 'Rusty Ryan,' Eames pronounced, rolling the Rs. 'And the little bastard's stolen my food.' )

[edit] Because charlieblue is actually a magical unicorn of awesome, Without You, Ambiguous Backstory Is Nothing actually exists and if you don't go and read it immediately there is something terribly wrong with you.

Fandom check: Final Fantasy XII?! Yeah, I don't know either. \o\ Apparently screaming at your laptop for 30 hours makes you go a bit funny in the head.

First in the second triple bill: and they are all, all honourable men.

Make as much of me as gentry

Fandom: Final Fantasy XII (OGC)
Characters: Ffamran, Dr. Cid
Rating: PG
Warnings: Backstory here we come, Ffamran-who?
Summary: The good doctor once spoke to his good son.

1013 words and lots of Cid posturing! \o

( 'You know, when your mother died, I had a thought,' said the good Doctor. )

ellnyx and I were talking nasdack, and in between lots of guilty feelings and a lot of random conversational tidbits, she provided this prompt: Balthier/Tseng/Rufus - inversion of roles/ceremony - love came in accordance with what he promised, and not only out of gratitude. And lo, I have written something:

~900 words. Tseng/Rufus/Balthier. Very soft R.

( Tseng doesn't offer any explanation when Rufus looks at him in askance. 'I'm sorry we're late,' he says instead. )


THEN SOMEHOW, TENTACLES GOT MENTIONED. Mayhap it is because shoe-kink still is unfathomable to Nyx, she instead jumps forward towards tentacles:

(12:13:58 AM) nyx: b/t/r, TENTACLE SEX
(12:14:00 AM) K: OKAY
(12:14:02 AM) K: YOU ARE ON
...
(12:14:11 AM) K: I WILL TENTACLE SEX THOSE THREE
(12:14:16 AM) nyx: NO NONO
(12:14:23 AM) K: WHAT IS THAT YOU ARE SAYING
(12:14:24 AM) K: YES YES YES?
(12:14:25 AM) nyx: THOSE THREE SEX THE TENTACLES
...
(12:14:44 AM) K: RUFUS DARING BALTHIER OR VICE VERSA
(12:14:45 AM) nyx: YES
...
(12:14:52 AM) K: SUCKERS
(12:14:53 AM) nyx: YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Now that I have ascertained that this is NOT MY FAULT, I am here to enable. Here we go, tentacle porn. Or, uh, the closest I could get to it, anyway. NOT BRAIN SAFE. NOT HEAD SAFE. It's almost work safe. BUT IT HAS TENTACLES. FOR nasdack VERSE. If that doesn't warn you, NOTHING WILL! I blame the meds and 350am! CAVEAT LECTOR.

[edit] NOW KNOWN AS:

SQUID PRO QUO

Warnings for squick! ~900 words. R. Tseng, Rufus, Balthier/DRUG PRODUCING TENTACLE MONSTER.

( Crack, tentacles, and, uh, yeah. Crack and tentacles. )

[[edit]]

I think it is fair warning to direct readers to the copy of this post on nasdack, where, in the comments, Nyx illustrates how she is 2000 times crazier than I am.

I am not going to press the backspace button for the next fifteen minutes except to make grammatical and spelling corrections. I MAKE NO CHANGES TO MY INSANITY: these bits are all meant to Reggib Worg (I'M SORRY MR. DAHL).

[edit] Plenty of happy mind bickering in the second one. :D Even if you don't know Samurai Warriors, well -- Toyotomi Hideyoshi (united the land) and hired Ishida Mitsunari (to be his sharp-tongued logistics guy and eventual Big Time retainer; in the game he is v. pretty and v. kickass and beats people up with a fan, I mean, come on), who in turn hired Shima Sakon (who talks back to Mitsunari where all others cower in fear/adoration/envy and gets bought over by much money HONOUR in exchange for his 1337 strategy skillz0rs).

I'm so sorry, Japan.

( Final Fantasy VII: Reeve and Lazard for _ice_lady (433 words) )

( Samurai Warriors 2: Ishida Mitsunari and Shima Sakon (406 words) )


Also in progress:

• Batfic: Pauper!AU Dick and Jason on spring break fic for scheherezhad
  
• FFVII: still more massive Restorations, ajsfkljalsfjlk, the million dollar question being, Will Reeve Ever Stop Talking?
  

it is like, 2 in the morning and i have stuff due all over the place and what am i doing? I am watching a knight's tale, watching alan-fucking-tudyk and paul-motherloving-bettany and keith-whyareyoudead-ledger and rufus-ohshit-sewell and just, oh my god, why have i never watched this before, the level of awesome and braindeadness and love and i think i'm going to go take a nap now

Just finished 5000+ words of RPS fic. Am finally done with it. SHAKING WITH RELIEF. Brain needs to turn off now. Or back on. OR SOMETHING.

Also, mail went out today - Snow/Kristin/white_jenna, cards are heading down, do not throw out! ♥

My god, I haven't written in so long. *___*

Signal to Noise

Fandom: FFXII/FFVII (Stockmarket AU)
Characters: Tseng/Rufus
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Rufus, in Chicago.

1176 words and, uh, phonesex. Kinda. Sorta. Almost.

( Something in the air changes, as though Tseng can tell. )

Language altered to appear suitably Annoyed (R) and Irascible (TM); this post bears only minimal resemblance to members of the public that may or may not be either living and/or dead. I swear.

28/1: Enumerated List of Bureaucratic Stupidity

1. To the American Banking system (and its slew of derivatives): I do not see the need or purpose in your sending my father and myself endless streams of correspondence. I do not need additional paperwork regarding anything to make me feel more self-important about the amount of money this family has deposited in your incredibly (pun fully intended, along with your 0.0000012% per month interest rate) and needlessly complex credit system, and my father is considerably jaded as-is and does not want to be informed, by means of (to date) 7 formal letters, 3 brochures and however many bits and pieces of paper marauding as check(que)books and/or advertisements, that you are Fully Aware of where his money is at any and all times. Rather, I'd be obliged if you left me with less drivel, and more information regarding parts of my account that I should've been informed of beforehand, id est: the drawing limit on my debit card, the fact that said debit card cannot be used for online transactions, and the fact that your company - against all standards of common sense and integrity and the ability to read in sequential lines - managed to not only misspell my name but also managed to rearrange my mailing address such that the second line became the first and the first line became invention. Thank god for postal codes.
   
   
2. To the paper pushers with whom I am communicating in order to secure simple, no-frills interviews and tours of your facilities: I plead with you never to reply to emails with the phrase (verbatim:) "[i]n regards to the unformal meetings". I weep for you, your colleagues, and whoever it is that has to read your reports on a regular basis, Mms. "Manager of International Relations".
   
   
3. To the makers of such movies as Troy: mother of Hades, what are you on, people? I could've forgiven Alexander its woes due to the fact that its casting was doomed to begin with, but Troy? Troy? Troy? One would think that Mssr. Pitt, having acted as a vampire and a gambler and a psychopath and a de-aging-re-aging man, would be able to brush his neatly evolved American accent to one corner and do better than scream (verbatim:) "IMMORTALITY!!!!!! TAKE IT!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S YOURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", punctuation not exaggerated. Furthermore, Patroclus. If actual further elaboration is necessary: what of the ardent feminisation, and then the constant implications of "cousin", and then the fact that he - and Mssr. Bloom - served only to make Mssrs. Pitt, Bana and Bean seem muscular and manly in comparison? I decline to comment on the bad theatrical execution, the constant (and annoying) soundtrack, and the fact that the depicted Paris could be broken thus by kicking any particularly adorable puppy somewhere in his vicinity.
   
   
4. To my love, gmail: I trust you. Please cease being slovenly; I have work to do.

*g* Okay, I have to stop, otherwise I think my brain will fall apart. But, yes, today has been an interesting day: for one, I've rediscovered the effects of a cup of coffee. Maybe it's just the fact that I'd spent around 9 years of my life getting only four or six hours of sleep per night and then slogging the rest of the day, but I'd never been affected by coffee until a few months ago. Tragedy! For then I could not drink it ere sleeping. I thought that I'd acquired some strange infection of the lymph. Truefact: after sleeping only 2 hours last night and then braving the roads (thankfully dead: I guess everyone's still hung over) on my bicycle, drinking a flat white did nothing more than restore me to humanity, as opposed to pushing me over the edge into Hyped Up Psycholand. Profit!

Additionally: if you live in the Australasian continent and are on my flist, there's a pretty high chance you're getting something in the mail sometime during the next 4-6 days. *BEAM*

Also: note to self, write creepy random boring piece about how the roads were empty. ish.

Thus is my boring life. *sets to writing Tsengfic at last*

[edit] Ended up updating the downingjones section of nasdack; essentially: hell.

[edit] I think I'm going to sit here and stare at AIM for a while, so if anyone wants to catch me in my in between-caffeine-dosage lull, go 'head.

Every once in a while, I decide to inflict upon myself the non-duty of doing something with my non-skill in non-art. I suck at it, and yet I do it. :D I blame the genius of people like dnatio_memoriae and pere_chan, who both make me feel like picking up the stylus and TORMENTING YOU PEOPLE TO RETINAL DEATH. Oh, an regicialdwarf, whose dance playlist kept me sane. Ish. Sanish.



( Full version, in case you dare to go where angels blah blah blah )