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The Fic I won’t write game

Send me a ship and a fic title, and I’ll post a summary of the fic with that title I won’t write.

(Original game started by the puckurt comm mods here)

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Talking with writers online

Their stories: Amazing grammar, soaring vocabulary, beautiful imagery and prose which flows like a river.

In chats: no capitalisation or punctuation, swears like a sailor, misspellings everywhere, acronyms and abbreviations every five words, idek

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Writing Prompt: Person A, B and C enter a room. Their reactions are as follows: 

What on earth did they see in the room?

Please send me a link to the result if you feel inspired! 

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I’m really excited to have poured my birthday money into a couple more books and stoked to do an LGBT+ book rec soon! :D

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Hey, I just read your kyouhaba pokemon AU on ao3 and was wondering if there were more chapters as it the amount of chapters was listed as 1/5. The whole chapter was really cute! I loved it

Thank you so much, I’m happy you loved it

That said … gah, there are more chapters that only need editing and I was really determined to finish the fic up quick and neat, but between things going on in my life and the time that passed since, it’s hard for me to go back to it just yet. No fic of mine is ever abandoned, but at this point in time I can’t guarantee when the story will continue. I’m very sorry for that! 

But, thanks for showing me you still care

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Do you have an ao3?

Yes, I do! It’s boxofwonder. :>

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Alright guys, here's a thing that's been burning under my fingernails for a while.

It's such a simple, crucial piece of writing advice. So logical it should not be worth mentioning. But I'm gonna do it anyway, 'cause I feel like sometimes we tend to forget – caught up in prose, pacing, characterisation and plot – caught up in all the crafty, theoretical, brainy aspects of writing.

Writing is not just craft. Writing is emotion brought to the page. It's a spark of a fire you want to unleash in your readers, it's the thick promise of thunder lurking on the horizon before you make lightning strike, it's a helpless cry, grasping fingers, breathless hesitation, boundless and unapologetic joy. Writing is so much more than just words.

So the most important advice I can give?

Feel. Feel your story, goddammit! Because that's what you want your readers to do, isn't it? You want them at the edge of their seats, turning pages like their life depends on it.

So if you want readers to care, you have to care first and foremost. Hell, you have to care more than anyone.

Be the first to bawl your fucking eyes out or put your fist straight through a brick wall because goddammit how idiotic can a main character be and you are forced to just sit there and watch. Be the first to jump up in your chair and raise your fist in victory. (Or, well, close your eyes and jiggle your fist just a little. Yes. Quiet, delicious victory.)

Laugh and hope and love, goodness gracious, you have to love your story more than anyone.

It's what you owe your characters and your story.

And most of all, it's what you owe your readers.

Honestly, if you can't be as passionate about your story as a sports anime protagonist in a training montage headed to capital V Victory after tasting the bitter jaws of defeat three episodes and some character development ago, then this is not the story you should tell.

Why would you?

You're burning to tell a story about a sea dragon princess taking up arms to fight the corrupt pirate king who terrorised her people for the past decades? HECK I'd actually love to read that, what the hell. You're really passionate about Character A and Character B smooching in the most horrifyingly tooth rotting way possible? Go for it! But if you're just doing it because … well, you can? You kinda wanna? Not really? Maybe?

Nope! Not the story you want to tell. Not the story you should tell.

You want to tell a good story, don't you? Else you would've stopped at the first obscure sports anime metaphor and scrolled past this pile of junk post telling you to FEEL! and nothing else.

But, really. This is the simplest first step.

Find the story you are passionate about and burning to tell. Bawl your eyes out over it. Be that one parent that hears the word 'child' anywhere and zooms in so fucking fast the string of photos dangling from their wallet slaps Aunt Debbie in the face as they race by, leaving the poor woman confused and mildly unsettled.

Do what you love. That's it.

Love writing and stories and words and especially your own.

And have fun!

Happy writing <3

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swirls of gold

Kagehina | Rating: G | Words: 1937

By popular demand and since it’s Hinata’s birthday, have a Kagehina AU!

Prompted by and dedicated to @volleycrows​

They lowered Hinata’s unconscious body onto the pillows with care, the countless candles in the room painting soft, dancing shadows across his peaceful face and the tense expressions of the priests around him.

Kageyama was only one amongst the crowd, hood drawn over his face to hide his own expression. No doubt anyone would call it murderous, when really, he did not feel anger at all. It was more helpless frustration, restless longing. An ache in his heart, deep and merciless. A hole in his chest ripped open by this stubborn, careless idiot sleeping so peacefully on the fluffy pillows.

The delicate swirls of gold painted on Hinata’s skin shimmered in the light, giving him an unearthly look, even more removed from Kageyama’s reach than usual. Kageyama’s fingers clenched tightly at the intense need to smudge over the paint and rub it away, revealing only the face of his friend.

No ceremony. No Fated One. Only this, him, them.

But it had never meant to be so simple, if you made the mistake of falling for the Voice.

The goddess of the sun herself had chosen him to speak her words amongst the mortals. Hinata’s unconscious mind was cradled in her embrace now, as she would choose the one fated to be at his side.

Certainly the goddess would not pick the rogue priest with the murderous frown for her treasured mortal companion. A person who treated the Voice himself as his equal more often than not. Any time Kageyama so much as tried to bid Hinata the respect and worship expected of those serving him, Hinata would protest and provoke him until Kageyama got so caught up in their competitive nature and bickering, he would simply forget the hierarchy supposed to dominate their relationship.

But it was hard to, as Kageyama clumsily joined in the soft murmur of chants.

What a joke, to ask for the right person to be chosen to strengthen the Voice’s back while every fiber of Kageyama’s being prayed for it to be him instead. Could the goddess see his ill intentions? Certainly they were not suited for this atmosphere. How selfish, to be unable to put aside these useless feelings even now.

But wouldn’t it be the intention of the goddess to find an equal? Didn’t Hinata have enough people worshipping the ground he walked on?

Kageyama remembered the first time he had met him, caked in mud and expensive robes ripped, a wiry boy with wild, flaming hair in the middle of a clearing screaming his lungs out without apparent reason. They had gotten into a fight, Kageyama yet to realise who it was standing before him when he demanded the boy shut his mouth and got bristling fury in turn. In the end, they had fought, raced each other, kept fighting after falling/dragging the other into a pond, and shared the soaked pound cake Kageyama’s mother had given him on his way.

Only after following Hinata to the temple and taking up training as a priest Kageyama had realised why exactly Hinata had spent an afternoon screaming his lungs out on his own as far away from the temple as his feet could take him.

In such a stuffy, dedicated atmosphere Kageyama finally understood why Hinata had felt like he was choking  

Ever since, he’d done his best to keep the Voice grounded. But, frankly, for Kageyama it had never been about the goddess of the sun or the priests or the pomp and glory surrounding all of it. He’d always just wanted to butt heads with Hinata Shouyou.

Certainly the goddess could feel this, too. How little care Kageyama put in his faith.

No, he would never be chosen.

Perhaps it would be someone in this room. Or a gentle, sweet girl in the village would gasp as the golden glow marked her wrist. Kageyama bowed his head, pressing his lips together. No, he could not pray for this.

Someone elbowed him in the side, and Kageyama tried to get back to the syllables, voice cracking at the sudden feeling of gentle breath on his neck. Every hair of him stood on end because he had made sure to stand with his back to the wall, at the very edge of the round tower so nobody would pay too much mind to him. There was a wall painted white behind him and nothing else.

I do not care for your faith, a voice whispered, charged with power the same way Kageyama imagined lightning to be. After all, I am searching someone devoted to my companion, am I not?

Shaken to the bone, Kageyama’s eyes darted around wildly at the undisturbed priests who kept chanting as if they’d never heard the actual voice of the goddess herself. It must have been, the sheer might in it was still prickling all over his skin, intensifying at his left wrist.

And this time those closest to him did gasp and turn their heads, hungry eyes boring into the same spot of skin Kageyama was staring at now, mouth hanging open.

A deep, hot glow of gold etched a sun into his wrist, the very same glow the other half of the room was witnessing appear on Hinata’s wrist.

Kageyama looked up at the shocked expressions around him, and somehow, all he managed to mumble was: “Shit.” before he turned and ran.

“You should talk to him.”

Huffing, Hinata tore his fingers from the sun on his wrist. Stupid subconscious, making him trace it over and over as if that would change anything. “He doesn’t want me, or else he wouldn’t have been avoiding me.”

Suga opened his mouth to give him advice which would probably super wise and smart, but something snapped inside Hinata before Suga could even begin his thought. “You know what!” he called, pushing himself up. “Enough of this. I don’t care! Yacchan apparently made a mistake and if Kageyama is unhappy he can tell me to my face!”

Suga chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’ve given the goddess herself a nickname. Don’t let the head priests hear, or they might faint.”

“She allowed me to,” Hinata replied, crossing his arms.

“Well, if you can be on nickname basis with the Sun Goddess, I guess you can talk to your best friend. Off you go, I’ll keep the priests off your back for a little, alright?”

“You’re the best,” Hinata sighed, and left after bidding Suga his thanks.

Truth was, he wasn’t exactly keen on the talk, either. The first moment he had woken and been told the news, Hinata had been overjoyed and giddy. It had been hard not to jump up and pump his fist into the air and start jumping all over the place, because he had dreaded this day so much and been praying for the past weeks Yacchan may grant him Kageyama as his Fated One. It would certainly shut up the priests who thought Kageyama was a bad influence on him.

And it would ease the burden of being promised to a stranger. And, perhaps, somehow, it would make Kageyama reciprocate his feelings … ?

Well, not that the latter had worked. But at least they could stay friends for life. Being the Fated One did not need to have romantic implications, it could as well be a platonic bond for life. As long as Hinata would know Kageyama at his side, he would be satisfied.

So this no-talking bullshit wouldn’t do.  

Sneaking through the secret passages of the temple, Hinata reached Kageyama’s simple chamber soon enough. If the dumbass wouldn’t be so dead-set on refusing to acknowledge their new bond, he could move to the room next to Hinata, but no. Ugh.

Hinata raised his fist and hammered at the door. “Open up, I know you’re in there and I’ve had it!”

The door opened without any protest. Hinata deflated a little, he’d been kinda ready to kick the door in if he had to, not to be met with zero resistance and Kageyama’s deep pout.

“You look constipated,” Hinata informed him as he ducked his way past Kageyama’s blocking arm and plopped down on his bed uninvited, as he had done a thousand times before.

Kageyama closed the door, but did not turn away from it, back towards Hinata still. He stayed silent for so long, Hinata was about ready to snap, when a single word fell from Kageyama’s lips: “Sorry.”

“Huh?” Hinata cocked his head. Of all the things he’d expected, this was …

“I am sorry, alright!” Kageyama gently knocked his fist against the wood of the door, tension in his shoulders and jaw. “I didn’t mean to -”

“Didn’t mean to what? Ignore me? Well, you did!”

This time, Kageyama did whirl around, heated fury in the blue of his eyes. “Didn’t mean to - !” He made a sharp, ruthless gesture at his wrist, covered in bandages as if hiding the mark away could undo it.

The words hit Hinata like a slap, stinging and quick. “Well, sorry you got stuck with such bullshit fate! I thought you were my best friend! Is it really so bad that the goddess decided you’d be good for me?!”

“What!” Kageyama stumbled a few steps closer, brows furrowed. “No, that’s not what I - what?”

“Don’t what me!” Hinata snapped, hands curled to fists.

“You don’t what me!” Kageyama snapped back without thinking, then blinked and shook his head like that could order his thoughts. “Ugh! I’m sorry I was so loud you didn’t get your village girl!”

What the. “Just what the hell are you talking about?!”

“Aren’t you listening?!” Kageyama was now standing before him, pawing away the bandages. “Obviously I’m talking about this. I was - shit, I prayed so loudly the goddess listened and it’s -”

“What?” Hinata asked, something inside him bursting into joy even when his head had not caught up yet. “You prayed for what?”

Kageyama only gestured at the exposed, golden mark again, head bowed.

Hinata blinked, and then he laughed. At the look of hurt and betrayal Kageyama shot him, Hinata only reached out and tugged him onto the bed next to him. Even when Kageyama was seated, Hinata did not let go of his hand, suddenly feeling bold and warm and alight. “Me too,” he told Kageyama, emphasis on each word. Holding his gaze.

It gave Hinata the honour of watching Kageyama’s eyes widen in confusion, quickly morphing to surprise, and then joy so warm it made Hinata squeezed his hand and reply in kind. “Me, too, okay?” he whispered.

Kageyama exhaled and leaned forward with too much force, knocking their foreheads together, his free hand curling at Hinata’s neck. “You want me as your Fated One?”

“I prayed every night,” Hinata breathed back, eyes closed. He could feel Kageyama’s fingers tense on his skin, and it felt so possessive it made Hinata’s heart stumble with exhilaration.

“I wanted you to be mine,” Kageyama said, voice harsh. Their noses squished together now, and lips so close Hinata could feel his breath on his lips.

“I’ve always been,” Hinata replied and he moved in for the kiss first, definitely - the two of them would forever fight over who took the first step but in his heart Hinata knew it had been him, no matter what Kageyama claimed.

What the both of them did agree on, though, was that despite awkward fumbling and neither of them knowing a thing about this, their first kiss tasted like fire and promises and those that followed with more finesse and a lot of practice each felt absolutely incredible.

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Let’s pretend you serenaded me

Oisuga | Rating: T | Words: 1393

Actor AU in which Come and get lost with us is the tv show Suga stars in, the media finds Daisuga the hottest topic, and his boyfriend Oikawa is Not Amused.

They're a tangle of limbs and blankets, and Oikawa has his face buried against Suga's warm skin. The silence in their bedroom, only breathing and heartbeats and the room half in darkness thanks to the closed blinds makes it easier for Oikawa to say things which he keeps to himself, most of the time. Bottled up under layers and layers and layers of bravado.

“Why don't you ever properly deny being with Daichi?”

His voice is quiet, and he tries to make it sound like it doesn't matter, but they're so close he can feel his eyelashes flutter against Suga's skin, his lips move against it, and after six years, Suga knows. Of course he knows that it means something.

He shifts, or tries to shift so he can see Oikawa's face, but Oikawa stubbornly clings to him, heart starting to race because he can't look at Suga's face right now, this is why he brought it up while they were like this. So close it felt like nothing could come between them, not even the fact that half the population wanted Suga to smooch the co-star in his damn TV show.

Suga holds him a little bit more tightly, and Oikawa hates that he knows how much it means exactly, how soft his voice is.

“You know we're just best friends joking around, right?”

Suga kisses the crown of his head and Oikawa closes his eyes and stays like this, frozen in time a little. He regrets bringing this up so much, he knows all this, Suga told him a hundred times. But, part of him wonders. Part of him is scared. Their schedules never allow them to see each other as much as they want to. Meanwhile, fucking Daichi and Suga hang out all the time, have interview sessions and time behind the set together, go out to eat ice cream or do stuff the press immediately declares romantic dates.

“It's you I love. You're the one for me. Tooru, look at me.”

He clings to Suga with more stubbornness, and they end up nearly wrestling over Suga trying to ease Oikawa off him to look at him. A few ridiculous minutes later, Suga has him pinned down, wrists at the sides of his head and straddling him in a way that makes Oikawa wonder if he could derail this entire conversation by rolling his hips the right way.

Too bad that Suga seems to see right through him and shifts so that this scene is less suggestive and more ridiculous and a little uncomfortable. He bends down, blowing on Oikawa's forehead to get a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, smiling down at him. Suga looks so damn happy, and Oikawa feels like the luckiest man alive to be the one he looks at like that.

“Listen to me. When I think of three years from now, I want to wake up next to you. In three years, in five years, in ten. It's your idiotic face I wanna see before I fall asleep and it's you I wanna wrestle for the blanket and it's you I wanna come home too. It's you, it's always been and it'll always be, so would you stop -”

“Then marry me,” Oikawa blurts.

They stare at each other and Oikawa is already panicking because fuck, did he just propose to his boyfriend with bed hair and morning breath and in underwear that has 'Sexy Bitch' written on his ass, did he really.

“Uhm.”

Suga is just blinking, his grip on Oikawa's wrist barely more than a little touch, and Oikawa can push himself up easily, ends up sitting with a boyfriend in his lap and a whole lot of regret and emptiness in his head. Holy shit. Holy shit. He just popped the question. It's not like he hadn't considered it or anything, of course he did. Fuck, it's Suga. It's not like he didn't want to ask eventually but he had thought more in the lines of suits and candles and picking a ring and being really grossly romantic and holy shit.

“Did you just -”

“Forget it!”, Oikawa yells, suddenly panicking, nearly smacking Suga in the face when he brings his hands up to gesture hysterically.

“No, but -”

“Nothing to hear, nothing to see! That never even happened! Haha, wow, what a funny joke, right?! I'm hilarious, aren't I?! Haha, God, the classic 'marry me' joke!” Classic marry me joke, what the fuck is he even saying. “I should probably get some pants now, so -”

Suga wraps his arms around him and pushes him back over so that they lie there all awkward angles and sharp bones and if Suga wasn't so insanely flexible he would have probably dislocated a knee or something.

“You're heavy,” Oikawa groans.

“You're insane.” Suga' voice is muffled against a pillow and Oikawa's neck. “And you're ridiculous. And exhausting. You're a crybaby and horribly unromantic, like what the heck was that even, Tooru. What were you even thinking.”

He wasn't, that's the whole thing, and does Suga have to be so insensitive about this?! Fucking hell.

“When we tell this story let's make something cute up, okay. And I don't want your 'Sexy bitch' underwear in there anywhere. You were wearing a suit, and you better get me a proper ring before dinner with the gang tonight so I can show off.”

“Wait, wha-”

Suga kisses him, no holding back, all smiles and teasing teeth and tongue, and it takes Oikawa's breath, ability to think, and willpower to even try and figure this out away. They end up making out like teenagers, shifting out of this uncomfortable stupid position into something much more suited for this, and hell yeah, hell yeah Oikawa can start his morning like this.

Except Suga pulls back before things can get real good and Oikawa stops whining as soon as he started because suddenly it hits him.

“Wait, does that – did you -”

Suga laughs and he looks ridiculously beautiful like this, lips red and swollen and colour on his cheeks and his eyes sparkling. He looks so beautiful it hurts and Oikawa can't wrap his mind around it, can't wrap his mind around blurting insane bullshit and being promised a lifetime with Sugawara Koushi in turn.

He must've been a saint in his last life.

“You better get me the prettiest ring, you hear me? You've gotta make being this unromantic up to me. I wanna brag to everyone.”

“Oh my God, Koushi, you -”

“Yes.” Suga cups his cheeks and looks into his eyes, smile soft and as happy as Oikawa feels. “Yes, I'm gonna marry you. But only if we can agree on there having been flowers involved in your proposal.”

“What if I wrote it into the sky?”

“Oh, I like that!”

Suga pulls him closer, so that Oikawa is leaning against his chest and his boyfriend – fiancé, his fiancé – can drum a little rhythm on his stomach with his fingers.

“But wouldn't the others have seen?”

“They weren't looking at the time.”

Suga hums his approval.

“What if there was a promise for puppies, too?”

“Or kids.”

“Tooru, we're not gonna talk kids in your goddamn 'Sexy Bitch' underwear. No way in hell. I hate it, you have to get rid of it.”

“Well, you could help me with that~”

“Forget it.” Suga pushes him off. “You go get me my ring now. If it looks nice enough, maybe I'll consider it. Go, take a shower. Time is running out, there's a dinner tonight and my finger is still empty. What kind of fiancé are y-”

The second the word fiancé leaves Suga's lips, Oikawa rushes forward to kiss him again. Suga goes along with it at first, but that ring seems to be pretty important to him, because he resolutely bans Oikawa from the bed and then the bedroom, throwing clothes after him.

“Go shower and get back soon!”

“You could shower wi-”

“Don't even try. Trust me, I have lots and lots of things planned with you, but I want my ring first.”

Well, that's a motivator.

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Introducing: Lemon Ink!

Yay, it's a new name! Still as lemony-fresh as citruswriting used to be, but now with some juice as ink. (That sounded a lot cooler in my head.) Heh, either way – here we are, bright yellow ink, a beautiful new theme, an actual fully functioning taglist AND! - best of all – some changes ahead!

(Cue party poppers.)

Now that I've blown the dust from this blog, why get back to just using it when I could go ahead and take it to the next level instead! So, besides regular new fictional content (fanfics and some original stuff) I plan to throw in a couple more cool additions.

The topics I'm passionate and versed in enough to write about may include writing (writing about writing, writeception if you may), mental health, LGBTQ+ stuff, cats, recipes … in short: buckle up, this'll be fun if you're interested in any one of those!

Honestly, at this point I'm not entirely certain what to expect myself – but that's the exciting part of it! I just can't wait to get kicking!

I'm looking forward to this summer and I hope you are too! :>

Kindest regards and see you soon ~☆

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Argh, I tried to read this chapter and again burst into tears! T^T Day Three ~ wow I didn’t think that I will stay as long … XD

big size

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It is an incredible fan fiction… I have no words 

“…When he awoke from the painful haze, Kageyama knew instantly that he had failed. The familiar lines on the stone over him were proof - and Suga, Suga was there, kneeling right next to him. The memories came back, flashes of what had been before he passed out, this horrible wrong sound – everything had happened so fast. One second he had been forcing his body forward, and then the world was tumbling and there was pain and confusion and he was left helpless, with tears in his eyes and a scream in his throat that never made it past his lips before he passed out. He kept fighting against the grip holding him down, no, no, not this time, not this time, he had sworn to himself to never let it get that far again, he’d never go through such a thing again, no, no, NO, PLEASE…”

a fanfic by this author 

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I really wanted to draw Suga with a braid!  I think it is cute:3 

a fanfic by this author

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a compilation of some of the come and get lost with us things I’ve done for Nico!

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I have an idea, the implementation of which will take me a few more months …  (º _ º l|l) This fanfic will not let me live in peace ( ಠ_ಠ) But I still love it (♡ε♡) I had this idea for a long time, I hope I have the strength (ノ_<、)

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“… would you have ever thought it would end up like this?”

i love luv daisuga so much ;u; drew some haikyuu fanart over break based on citrusfluegel’s fanfic Come and get lost with us (you will fall in love with this au)