#{meanwhile ignoring all my other drafts here}

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

A/N: Forgot about this little number in my drafts.

Eddie is so unhinged by what he had just seen that he assumes it's just a dream. In reality, Chrissy doesn't buy drugs from him. In reality, she doesn't fucking die like that in his trailer. In reality, he wouldn't have been able to overpower a jock especially Steve Harrington, the subject of his dreams since sophomore year. There is just no way that Steve fucking Harrington hit him with an oar and there's just no way that Eddie is pressed up against him, holding a bottle to his throat.

"This is a fucking dream. You know how I know this is a dream?" Eddie asked quietly.

"How?" Steve asked.

"Because you're here, and why would you be here with me if it wasn't a dream?" Eddie asked, and Steve's eyes softened. "You know what happens next?"

"What?" Steve asked, looking intrigued.

"This."

It's a dream. There are no consequences in dreams, he tells himself. Eddie drops the bottle and places a gentle hand against Steve’s throat. He pressed his lips against Steve’s, kissing him. Eddie ignored the shocked gasps from behind him. He was pretty sure it was Robin who squawked loudly. Steve froze. That's weird. He never froze in his dreams. Never. Shit, maybe this wasn't a dream. Just as he was about to pull away, Steve gripped the back of his vest and started to kiss him back. Oh, fuck. It was better than he could have imagined. So, yeah, definitely not a dream. Just as Steve slipped his tongue into his mouth, Dustin tapped him on the back, and he pulled back to look questioningly at him.

"I give you full permission to feel up our babysitter later. We have questions now," Dustin said.

"This is definitely not a dream," Eddie said.

"Uh, yeah, we can definitely finish this discussion later," Steve said, licking his lips.

Eddie moved away before he could be tempted again and leaned against the wall as he started talking with Dustin. Meanwhile, he vaguely saw Robin go check on Steve, and then he heard his whispered voice.

"I don't know, Robin! I didn't know I liked guys until now. Yes, you would have been the first person I told!" Steve exclaimed.

Eddie didn't focus on what Robin had to say, too focused on Steve. Did he give Steve Harrington a crisis? Eddie smirked. He hoped so. They didn't have a chance to discuss what happened until they had all been dragged to the Upside Down. He had seen the way Nancy and Steve had looked at each other. Of course, they made more sense than Steve wanting to be with him. She'd be better for him anyway. So, he started pushing Steve towards Nancy, giving him a speech and everything. He was also trying to ignore how good he looked in his vest. Meanwhile, Steve was giving him a look like he was an idiot, his hands on his hips.

" - That's an ambiguous sign of - "

"No."

"What? But you don't even know what I was going to say!"

"No!"

"But Steve - !"

"Yeah, no, not happening."

"Why?"

"Really?"

Steve sighed. He cupped Eddie's face and kissed him sweetly for a moment before pulling back. His hands were still on his face. He stroked Eddie's cheek with his thumb.

"You're acting like an idiot. I like you," Steve said.

"Why?" Eddie asked.

"I'm starting to question that myself," Steve smirked.

"Are you sure I'm not dreaming?" Eddie asked.

Steve sighed and reached behind him to pinch his ass. Eddie squeaked.

"Yeah, okay, so not a dream."

Steve chuckled and laced his fingers with Eddie's.

"So, you dream about me?" Steve asked.

"On and off since sophomore year," Eddie said. "I saw this freshman sitting with his friends who laughed like they were hyenas, and even though he had friends, he never looked more lonely. I couldn't get him out of my head since. Plus, he was cute as hell, especially in those tight little polos he wears. Still thought you were an asshole but I'm glad I was wrong about that."

"I thought I hated you for a long time, you know. I was kind of obsessed. I tried not to look at you, but you made it hard with those speeches of yours. I looked anywhere else but at you, and I realize now that it was because I actually liked you. I always thought you were pretty. Still do. I think I was jealous that you didn't have to hide behind this mask that my parents so lovingly gave me. You're brave, Eddie," Steve said.

"I'm not - " Eddie started to say.

"You're brave."

"You're brave too, Steve."

And later, when he's laying in a hospital bed with Steve Harrington holding his hand, a part of Eddie still couldn't believe it. He glared at Steve.

"How is it that you still look beautiful under these shitty hospital lights? I take it back. This isn't a dream. You're the dream. I mean - Jesus H Christ! I can't even look at you," Eddie groaned.

"Eddie!" Steve laughed.

"Nope! Fuck off!" Eddie exclaimed but the corners his mouth were twitching.

"Eddie!"

"To gaze upon such beauty is to gaze upon death! I shan't look upon thy face anymore," Eddie said dramatically.

Steve giggled, blushing. What the fuck? Did he just make Steve Harrington giggle? No, this can't be happening. Steve reached over and kissed him, biting his lip as he pulled back.

"Not a dream," Steve muttered.

Eddie looked at him, and he actually believed him. He couldn't make shit like this up. Steve took his hand and kissed it as his eyes began to flutter close. He smiled, knowing that Steve would still be there in the morning.

[hsslilly-blog]

Here's Grace and Sofia, Claire and Hunt’s babies. Grace is the older one and she was born on January 12th, 2021. Sofia came three years later, on November 24th. So they're not here yet.

Both their birth-dates are prone to change, as I think Grace may have been born a year or two later, and I don't think Sofia is a November baby. This post has been in my drafts since August 7th and I haven't been able to decide that yet. I use mostly she/her for Sofia throughout this post, but later in life they start going by them/them. Anyhow, I've written a bit about them both under the cut.

Grace was born prematurely at 28 weeks, so she had to spend a few weeks in a NICU in a respirator. As a consequence, she ended up developing asthma. It’s not something life-threatening nowadays, but the entire situation was very stressful for her parents and it definitely strengthened Claire's anxieties around being a mother. Nevertheless, Grace grows up to be a happy girl. As for Sofia, she was a full term pregnancy and she was born a little under 8 pounds... big baby. This was a much more positive experience for everyone.

They were both planned pregnancies. Claire took a lot of issue with this at first — with Grace — due to her own upbringing. Overall, her first pregnancy really took a toll on her and it added to a list of problems Claire had been ignoring and bottling up. She went through a little crisis some time after Grace was born, which, well, made her feel even more inadequate as a mother. Hunt stepped in so Claire could take a moment for herself and work through her issues. It worked out in the end, but it did leave her wondering if her relationship with Grace is what it could've been.

Personality-wise, they're both very cheery and sunny kids. Sofia is the extroverted one and she's very practical. Grace is more measured and shy, but she's very friendly. Sofia takes things easily, is very quick to apologise when wrong and doesn't hold grudges. Meanwhile, Grace is very stubborn, but very dedicated too. And they get along very well! Grace enjoys being a big sister.

Out of the two, Grace is the one most interested in their parents' careers and in the arts, in general. When they were planning for their kids, Claire and Hunt both agreed they'd allow their babies to pursue whatever artistic endeavour they wanted to as long as they didn't do it professionally until older. This means Grace starts acting, and she enjoys it a lot, but her true passion turns out to be filmmaking. She loves making short films, usually with her sister or with her friends from school.

On the other hand, Sofia loves football and basically every other sport there is. They do gymnastics for a while, then she plays baseball for another while, and once she gets bored of that too they take up swimming. Most of all, Sofia loves dancing. She starts taking ballet classes after watching Barbie's The Swan Lake. She also loves drawing. As you may notice, she's very fleeting and always trying new things. Sofia starts experimenting with their gender very young and they start going by Fee and using they/them pronouns around the time they're 12.

They're named after Grace Kelly and Sophia Loren (by me, not in universe; though it could be in universe too since their parents are nerds.) That's all I have to share for now!

[wqterlillypdfs]

everything i need is right here

pairing: platonic!sully children x fem!reader, bestfriend!tsireya x fem!reader + a brief ao'nung appearance (can be read as gn)

summary: you are an ilu riding instructor in the Metkayina clan, looking forward to spending your one day off relaxing on your own. However, the arrival of some new Na'vi changes your plans - especially when your best friend is determined to get to know them

word count: 4.3k (this is the longest fic i've ever posted!)

warnings: none! there's some use of asshole and skxawng, but it's all completely platonic fluffy-ness! also, not completely proof read and the ending kinda sucks, as per usual

a/n: i'm so proud of this fic! i think it's one of the best things i've written. also, it's very self indulgent, i just want to be best friends with all of them 😭. i also plan on posting more metkayina!reader, i've got some stuff sitting in the drafts that i'm so excited to share with all of you. hope you like this one!

The warm glow of Pandora’s sun basked down on your face, your body pressed against your ilu, one leg hanging off the side of its body as you floated through the water along its back. Your eyes were shut softly as you drifted in and out of your thoughts, you felt truly at peace, nothing but yourself and the crystalline waters that rocked and swayed against you.

Without warning, there was a loud splash, followed by a shower of ocean water raining down on you. You gasped as you shot up from your equally as startled ilu, only to be met with the face of a familiar Metkayina girl. She had one of her hands covering her mouth to stifle her laughter, another hand helping her tread the water to stay afloat.

“Reya, you skxawng!” you hissed, playfully splashing water back at your best friend.

How foolish of you to think you could get a moment's silence.

She laughed at your reaction, which made you giggle with her too, but she quickly beckoned both of you to fall into silence. “You are needed,” she informed you, a playful grin still present on her face.

A low groan escaped you, “no, today is my day off.”

You along with Tsireya were instructors of the Awa’atlu village for the younger children. She was a free-diving instructor, meanwhile you were an ilu riding instructor. The both of you had been inseparable since birth as your fathers were close friends, and both of you had decided at a young age that no matter what you did, you’d do it together.

Tsireya tsked, shaking her head playfully, “sorry, but there has been a change of plans, we have visitors.”

What? That’s when you noticed the presence of four other Na’vi children swimming towards you and Tsireya. They looked to be around your age, but they were definitely not from Awa’atlu, or any of the Metkayina clans at all for that matter.

While you couldn’t tell their exact ages, the one who seemed to be the oldest boy introduced himself first. “Kaltxì,” He said, with a small wave. 

You waved back as Tsireya introduced them to you. "This is Neteyam," she said, motioning to the boy who had waved at you, then to the one next to him, "this is Lo'ak," then to the eldest and youngest girls, "and this is Kiri and Tuk”.

“Kaltxì,” you greeted back at them. “You.. are forest Na’vi?” you questioned, noting their darker, more blue skin and their thin arms and tails.

“Yeah, no shit.” Lo’ak scoffed, a too-confident smirk resting on his face.

You rolled your eyes at him, but Neteyam whacked the back of his brother's head before you could make a witty comeback. "Use your manners," he chastised. Kiri rolled her eyes at her brothers before silently apologising to you; you laughed it off and motioned for her not to worry.

Tsireya giggled at the brother’s antics and smiled shyly at Lo’ak, which was much unlike her - usually if one of her own brother’s friends had said something stupid and ignorant like that she’d groan and swim off.

You brushed it off for now, continuing your conversation, “If you are forest Na’vi, why are you here?”

“They seek uturu,” Tsireya informed you, “their father is Toruk Makto.”

Oh, you tried to suppress your surprise at the statement but you couldn’t help yourself. Almost all Na’vi children of your age grew up listening to the stories of Toruk Makto, how he had eradicated the sky people from Pandora all those years ago, leading the Na’vi to great victory.

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and back into the current moment, you didn’t want to keep these newcomers waiting. “So, you want help learning how to ride ilu?” you asked, sliding off your own gorgeous ilu and running your hands along it’s back.

They all nodded. 

“Okay then. Come, we don’t want to waste time.”

—

The six of you had gathered along the shallow banks of the Awa’atlu village, and somehow in the time between when you had gone to gather some ilu saddles and returned, Kiri had disappeared. The boys had told you not to worry, and that she had only gone off to explore the reef.

A small crowd of Ao’nung’s friends had also seemed to gather around to watch the Sully children ride their first ilu.

You rested the saddles down on a sandy bank, before wading into the water where the ilu were tossing and turning as they played with each other.

“These here are the ilu,” you told them as one swam past and brushed against your leg. “They are playful, but not hard to tame. If you want to live here, you must learn to ride them.”

The same ilu swam back around to greet you, affectionately rubbing its head against you to earn your attention. You gave the ilu a soft pat, before turning back to the Sully children. Lo’ak seemed to already be warming up to one of the more affectionate ilu, and you could tell the young Tuk was eager to get in the water and away from where she was resting on Neteyam’s hip. You had already found yourself becoming fond of the young Omaticaya girl, she was both incredibly endearing and knowledgeable.

“Come, Neteyam,” you beckoned for both him and Tuk to follow you. 

You then turned to Lo’ak before saying, "Lo'ak, Tsireya will instruct you." Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Tsireya trying her hardest to suppress a giddy smile. You weren't oblivious to her rapidly blossoming crush, as much as she probably hoped you were. You had always known Reya to be one to fall fast.

Neteyam set Tuk down next to him before wading through the water after you, following you a bit further away from where Tsireya was with Lo’ak. “I apologise for my brother,” he said, for probably the fifth time already. 

“You are very good at apologising,” you teased him, as you called for an ilu. “But please, do not be sorry - you should see what I have to put up with from Ao’nung.”

He let out a breathy laugh as his hand skimmed across the ilu’s skin. Tuk was not far behind him, and when she finally caught up, you helped her sit on a rocky outcrop above the water. 

“The ilu are our friends,” you told them, as you fastened a saddle around the ilu, it chirped playfully at your touch, as if it was being tickled. Tuk laughed in delight at the sound.

You reached for Neteyam’s hand, placing it onto the saddle’s harness. “Hold here,” you told him, but before he could even get on the ilu you noticed that Tsireya was already getting Lo’ak to make the bond.

“Wait,” you paused, pointing to where Lo’ak and Tsireya were, “we have to see this.”

You waded back around the ilu until you had a clear view of the group. You watched as Lo’ak took a deep breath, and before another word could be spoken, he was off. You watched his shadow from above the water’s surface, and you could already tell that it wasn’t going to end well for him. Alas, you were right. Mere seconds later, Lo’ak was sent tumbling off his ilu and the bond was broken.

He resurfaced above the water with a gasp, wiping the water out of his eyes with his hands. Ao’nung and his friends break into a fit of laughter at the sight, “he is like a fish out of water! - except he is in the water.”

You rolled your eyes as hard as you could possibly will yourself, you would never understand why so many of the Metkayina girls were obsessed with him. Ao’nung was nothing short of an asshole and his jokes weren’t even funny.

Tsireya chuckled softly as Lo’ak stood up and walked back towards them. Meanwhile, Neteyam did not hold back his loud laugh. “You okay, baby bro?” he called out to his younger brother, hands cupping his mouth like a megaphone to make sure that Lo’ak could hear. Lo’ak didn’t even spare his brother a second glance before he flipped him off, which made you burst out into laughter. 

“You two are too mean to each other,” Tuk huffed, crossing her arms as kicked her feet softly in the air.

You turned back to the ilu and shook your head, a warm smile still on your face. “Come Neteyam, it is your turn.”

Neteyam mounted the ilu again, placing one hand on the harness where you had told him to before, as you handed him the ilu’s queue so he could make the bond. “Feel the bond, Neteyam,” you said as he reached behind his back to pull out his braid, “when you are bonded remember you are one being. Feel the ilu’s heartbeat, it’s breathing. Trust it completely.”

The boy nodded his head as he took the ilu’s queue from your hand and attached it to his own. Neteyam seized up a little when the ilu went rigid underneath him. “Relax,” you reminded him, and as he did, so did the ilu.

Lo’ak, Tsireya and Ao’nung’s group of friends were making their way towards you and Neteyam, ready to watch the second brother try his hand at ilu riding.

“Trust the bond,” you reminded him as you swam backwards slowly until you were next to the rocky outcrop where Tuk was sitting. Neteyam nodded once at you, before he took a large breath - and he was off. The ilu dove right into the water, you ducked down so your face was submerged to get a better look. Tsireya, Tuk and the other boys did the same.

You couldn’t believe it. Neteyam seemed to be an absolute natural. While he still looked like he was getting thrown around when the ilu cut sharp corners, he was managing to hang on quite well. When Neteyam broke through the water, you resurfaced along with the others.

“You did it!” you shouted, “that was amazing!”

Neteyam was wearing a million-dollar-smile, clearly very proud of himself, even Tuk was clapping and cheering for him.

“Nice one big bro,” Lo’ak congratulate as Neteyam rode the ilu until he was closer to their group, “you can now add ilu riding to the list of things you are perfect at.”

You snorted, “I was wondering when the witty comment would hit.” and for the first time since you had met him, you saw Lo’ak smile properly, a big wide grin on his face. It suited him.

Neteyam just rolled his eyes playfully. “No need to be jealous, little one.” He mocked, messing up his brother’s hair as he said it.

“Don’t worry Lo’ak, with my help you’ll be an ilu riding prodigy in no time.” You declared proudly, “I think Tsireya should stick to her breathing exercises.”

Your best friend scoffed at your antics, “my way of teaching is just different from yours!”

“Yes, sister,” Ao’nung starts, “and clearly one is better than the other.”

The Metkayina boys started laughing wildly, and it didn’t take much for their laughs to turn contagious. Even Tsireya couldn’t help but chuckle. Okay, maybe sometimes Ao’nung was funny.

Once you had managed to control your own laughter and level your breathing, you were reminded that Tuk still hadn’t had her turn at riding the ilu. “Okay I think it’s Tuk’s turn,” you said, turning to the young Omaticaya girl who now adorned a face of pure excitement.

You bent your knees as you motioned for her to hop on your back, “come Tuk, I want to show you something.” Tuk quickly clambered onto your back, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you carried her to where the marui pods hung between the large mangrove roots hovered above the ocean. You felt Tsireya’s presence not far behind you, and when you turned to face your friend, you also caught sight of Lo’ak remounting an ilu behind her, accompanied by his brother who was too proud to get off on his own. The two of them dove into the water together, and it occurred to you that they were trying to have a race. 

Finally, you reached the bouncy walkways that connected the marui together. You set Tuk down in the water as you reached for a tall rattan basket that was sitting on the walkway. Its width was decorated in intricate wave-like designs. As soon as you took the basket off the walkway and passed it back to Tsireya, two ilu had already come to join you, chirping and clicking joyfully at the familiar scent that wafted from the basket.

Tsireya broke into a smile when a particularly playful ilu tried nudging the basket out of her grip. She clicked her tongue before shaking her head, “not yet.” 

You called for Tuk to come closer and join you as Tsireya handed her a small fish from inside the basket. “Give it to the ilu,” you told Tuk. The Omaticaya girl didn’t even hesitate as she dropped the fish in the ilu’s waiting mouth, it snapped up and swallowed the fish quickly. Tuk laughed joyfully, before patting the ilu’s head and cupping its face. “I love her already!” she squealed, making both you and Tsireya smile widely.

“Would you like to ride her?” asked Tsireya.

Tuk nodded her head vigorously, “yes!”

“I think you should leave the ilu instructing to me,” you joked as you helped Tuk onto the ilu. Tsireya scoffed and shoved your shoulder playfully making you smile again for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

Tuk took the ilu’s queue that you passed to her, quickly attaching it to her own. Her excitement was evident on her face as she wasted no time in making the bond. She held on tightly to the ilu’s harness, the same way you had taught Neteyam to. Tuk was observant, you noted.

You and Tsireya both called your ilu quickly, mounting them before the three of you dove into the crystalline waters. Tsireya took the lead as she manoeuvred her ilu through the reef, leading both you and Tuk through underwater archways and forests of coral. You yourself were no stranger to these parts of the ocean, but the wide-eyed awe that you saw on Tuk’s face filled you with warmth. It reminded you of the first time you had ever rode your own ilu with Tsireya, discovering the reef on your own, both of you with eyes sparkling full of wonder.

The three of you swam through a particularly large pod of small fish which dispersed quickly as you shot through not far behind Tsireya. Tuk was starting to catch up as well, and when you turned your head to face her, you noticed another presence alongside her. It was the other Sully daughter - Kiri. She was gracefully riding an ilu next to her younger sister, a gorgeous, genuine smile stretching across her face as she took in their surroundings. You’d never get tired of seeing that face of pure wonder and awe.

—

It had been a few hours of exploring the reef, practising ilu riding and various breathing exercises. You were utterly exhausted, and you could tell the Sully children were feeling the same thing. Tuk was passed out on Kiri’s lap, Tsireya and you sat side by side next to them as you talked to Neteyam and Lo’ak.

Apparently during the boy’s race, Lo’ak had fallen off another four times. At least that’s what Neteyam had told you - grinning proudly at the fact that he had beaten Lo’ak all those four times. Lo’ak rolled his eyes lazily.

“You might be able to beat Lo’ak,” you told Neteyam, “but you wouldn’t even stand a chance against a Metkayina baby.”

Lo’ak grinned and laughed loudly at your remark, Tsireya joining in with a quiet giggle. Neteyam turned a shade darker at the teasing, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry Lo’ak,” you reassured him, “you’ll be a natural in no time.”

He grinned even wider at what you said.

The sun was starting to set in the sky, casting a dusty purple glow over the water, meaning it would soon be time for the evening meal. It was a custom of your clan to eat your midday and evening meals. It was a time to connect and share stories with one another.

Ao’nung and his friends had disappeared to the communal eating pod a while earlier to ‘help’. But you and Tsireya knew damn well they just wanted to get early seats. 

You looked back at the beginning of this day, when all you had planned was to laze around and enjoy your single day off from teaching the Metkayina kids. But now, you were more than glad that you had agreed to help, because although these forest Na’vi were strange - they were also fun. You hadn’t smiled this much or laughed this loud in a very long time, and you think Tsireya would agree.

“We should probably get going,” said Tsireya, breaking away from the conversation she was having with Kiri. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

Neteyam’s stomach growled loudly at the mention of food, “sorry,” he apologised, grinning sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. Your stomach was starting to ache from mild hunger too, the amount of physical exertion that you had endured today left your entire body feeling more sore than usual.

You pushed yourself off the sandy beach, brushing the sand off your hand.

 Kiri tried to wake Tuk up from her nap, but the poor girl was still tired, refusing to get off her sister’s lap. Neteyam - being the perfect big brother he is - lifted Tuk off Kiri’s lap and carried her on his back, her cheek resting on his shoulder as she continued to snore softly in her sleep.

It was hard not to admit how cute they were.

After you helped Kiri up, you turned to where Tsireya should’ve been standing behind you, but she was nowhere to be seen. Your ears perked in confusion until you caught sight of Neteyam pointing ahead, “the love birds are far gone” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Tsireya was already walking across the beach with Lo’ak towards the marui. Both of them were chatting enthusiastically with each other which made you grin widely, a quiet chuckle falling from your lips - you were totally going to tease Tsireya about this later.

“Hey!” Kiri beamed as she nudged your forearm with her own, “I'll race you there!”

You turned to Neteyam who still had Tuk resting peacefully on his back, you didn’t want to leave him alone with her thinking that he’d likely not participate to avoid waking Tuk from her nap. But your thoughts were interrupted quickly as he piped up, a knowing grin on his face. “Don’t go easy on me just because I’m carrying extra weight,” he said, a challenging tone to pair with his confident demeanour, “I could still beat both of you with ease.”

You quirk your eyebrow at him as you stifle your laugh, “okay, fine then. You’re both on!”

Kiri grins widely, and before you can even say “go!” she’s off, laughing wildly as she races across the sandy beach. Shaking your head, you run after her, determined not to let Neteyam come close to beating you.

The cold evening ocean water nipped at your ankles as your feet hit the wet sand. The sound of your laughter echoing through the beach as you sped past Tsireya and Lo’ak - the former giving you a quizzical expression at your antics, and the latter getting shoved forward by Kiri as she ran past him.

“You two are slow,” Kiri voiced dramatically, sounding as if she found them boring.

Lo’ak seemed to have taken her words personally, shoving her back as he skipped forward, “I’m not going to let you win, Kiri!” The Omaticaya boy sped past both of you quickly, and you had to admit. - Lo’ak was fast. 

You couldn’t even contain your laughter, the adrenaline coursing through your body from the excitement of having so much fun, but your competitive nature would always get the better of you. There was no way you’d let the Sully children beat you.

—

“I win!” you beam, looking behind you to see your friends who were panting in exhaustion. Tsireya looked like she was physically unable to walk another step, hands braced on her knees as she sucked in deep breaths. 

Kiri had given up on running, and was now jogging slowly as she approached you. Her lips were pulled up in a smile as she rolled her eyes at you playfully. “you cheated,” she declared, which made you just snicker to yourself. 

Sure, you might have cheated a little bit to win the race, but who could blame you?  The Omaticaya children were quick on their feet and you weren’t about to let them win on your home turf. And anyways, even if they were fast, their feet were still not used to running swiftly on the sand, and their tails just made it so much easier to throw them off balance.

Lo’ak and Neteyam were also catching up, Lo’ak had a look of betrayal on his face, meanwhile Neteyam couldn’t stop grinning. He still had Tuk resting on his back, but now she looked slightly disgruntled, she had definitely been woken up from all the running.

“I can’t believe you pulled my tail!” Lo’ak bursted, giving you an accusatory look that said I’ll get you back.

You laugh at his tone while Tsireya leads your group further into the dining hall. 

“Maybe next time don’t flick it around so much,” you shoot back, poking his upper arm playfully, “it’s as if you were taunting me.”

He only rolls his eyes back at you. Neteyam sets Tuk down, she rubs her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up more, her gaze wanders around the large eating hall. It’s a big open hut, with no walls but a canopy cover. The entire village gathers here to eat together, sharing the stories of their eventful days. The Metkayina use gorgeous plates made of large round shells. Delicate carvings decorate the outside of the shell plates. Tsireya hands one out to each of you as she begins serving the food out. A variety of diversely cooked fish is sitting on large shell platters, accompanied by a variety of Pandoran vegetables that were native to this part of the world. The aroma of the food makes your mouth water.

Once all of you have got your food, you sit together on the large woven mats and start eating your meals.

Your gaze drifts around the eating hall, Ronal and Tonowari - who were basically your second parents - were sitting together, eating with the Sully children's parents. Jake seemed to be making a great effort to get to know both the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik, but Neytiri seemed not as invested, she looked almost bored as she picked at the fish on her plate. Ronal seemed to be mirroring her expressions.

However, your meal with your new friends held a starkly different energy altogether. You joked, and laughed, and told stories of your childhood. Kiri went as far as to tell you and Tsireya of a time when Neteyam and Lo’ak had a very serious prank war that almost resulted in them burning down a tree. When Tsireya tried to question why, all you got out of them was a “don’t ask.”

As the bustle in the eating hall died down, and the stars started to decorate the night sky, you and your new group of friends made your way through the village. Tuk bounced along the walkways as you talked to Kiri. You had grown incredibly fond of her, she was like a sister you never had. Her sense of humour never failed to make you double over in laughter, and she was packed full of knowledge and interesting facts. You admired the fact that she was so open to learning new things. 

Her eyes lit up as they looked out in the ocean, a small gasp falling from her lips as she noticed the bioluminescent glow emitting from the reef. Gorgeous purples and blues illuminating the ocean’s surface from below, you smiled too at her pure awe.

“It’s gorgeous isn’t it?” you said.

She smiled, “it’s much more than that.”

You heard the unanimous ‘woah’s’ and ‘wow’s’ from the other Sully kids at the sight, their reactions made you smile even wider.

Teaching these completely unknowing Omaticaya children of your own home, made you fall in love with it all over again. You were reminded of how much you loved your way of life, being surrounded by the ocean and the sand and the salty sea breeze at all times was something you could never give up.

As you waved your new friends farewell, watching them disappear into their marui for the night, you couldn’t help but be excited for what the next few months with them would hold. A part of you was sure that you’d learn just as much from them as they would from you…

atwow taglist: empty

if u wanna be added to my general taglist, or a specific fandom taglist just let me know!

[custardmylove]

Could we learn a bit more about your hsr oc?

OMG YES YOU CAN! thankyou for allowing me to yap guys, i love him so much and you have made my day <33

I'm going to be talking about my Honkai Star Rail OC Viane! Who by the way looks like this,

Viane is a four star Imaginary unit that follows the path of destruction and uses a pen as his weapon for attacks as seen in his splash art I made :3

i wrote a lot guys so open the cut for more-

Viane uses he/him pronouns, is human and is sixteen years old. He would be introduced into the game at the beginning of the Penacony Trailblaze Quest but would have been mentioned in game multiple times before as he's a famous anonyms author who writes under the name 'Moros'.

Moros is most well known for their incredible fantasy / mystery series with three books currently published and a fourth announced but with no release date, leaving many readers restless causing some to sour and begin to criticise him and his older books.

-

Viane began writing because he wasn't very social, not doing well with large crowds or loud noises and as such led him to avoid many children his age when he was younger. He began to share his writing at the age of twelve when he gained international acclaim at age fourteen with a short story of his.

Viane keeps himself and Moros very separate, the public only knowing that Moros writes his books himself and travels a lot.

Viane has a very small number of people who know his identity and even then, he's never met them in person as they are primarily his publishers and other such people.

The reason for the fourth book in his series taking so long is that he has simply lost motivation and the spark he once had for writing being lost and he doesn't really know what to do with himself. It was then when he received an invitation for the Charmony Festival on Penacony.

Usually Viane ignores invitations and the such but the difference here was that the invitation referred to him as both Viane and Moros, meaning the sender knew his true identity. And thus, Viane went to Penacony to find out who sent him the invitation and get some inspiration for his fourth book.

How he gets roped into the main troubles in Penacony is basically when his drafts for the fourth book are found in his hotel room without him in it by March and the Trailblazer sometime after the death of Robin. The weird thing is that the draft has some very strong parallels to the situation, as if someone was emulating the crime written in the draft and so the Trailblazer and March have to try and find Moros.

Viane meanwhile is freaking out when he realises this, it truly being a coincidence since he wrote that draft months ago. Viane also gets closly acquaintances with Misha who he can see thanks to the fact that his believes align so closely to the Astral Express / Trailblaze as well for the fact that his Mother once briefly travelled with the Express before he was born.

ANYWAYS, angst ensures thanks to Misha and Viane being so close and Viane discovers himself truly and his passions and from Penacony onwards, travels with the Astral Express to further discover himself and to try and figure out what to do with himself. (also wanting to hold onto what Misha found dear and not let Misha disappear from the world fully)

Viane is a bit blunt if not stand-of-ish but thats just his pure lack of social skills. Even when he notices something that might be important he often doesn't say anything for fear of being called stupid for mentioning it, even if he knows that the people on the Express would never do that.

Viane's attacks involve his love for writing. Basic attack is him writing a word in the air before directing it at the enemy to attack them dealing imaginary damage.

I don't know about his skill or ultimate so any ideas would be nice to hear :D

UH, I think that's all I have for now, thanks for letting me yap a lot lol, I usually have a lot of stuff thought out for my ocs but can never find a way to share it all -w- Here are some other stuff I made for Viane as well to finish this rant off -w-

[moodsandtenses]

Dracula's Guest: in which a business trip gets off to a rough start

Welcome back to Dracula Daily season! If you want to kick things off a little early this year, why not treat yourself to a read-through of Dracula’s Guest? Cut from the novel in the drafting process (ETA: the specifics of where exactly it fit into the plot of Dracula are a little fuzzy, for complicated reasons), and later published as a separate short story, it takes place today on April 30, also known as Walpurgis Nacht. The whole thing’s available here, thanks to Project Gutenberg.

Some further discussion of this absolute wild ride of a not-quite-canon side trip below:

Dracula’s patented “when in doubt, address the problem with Wolves” strategy gets off to an early start

We join Dracula’s guest - unnamed in the story, but pretty obviously Rough Draft Jonathan Harker - in Munich, on the first leg of his business trip to Transylvania. If this had been part of the finished book, it would have really front-loaded the tension, giving Jonathan a whole Vampire Sidequest to get involved in before he even gets to Transylvania. A few fun facts worth noting here: 

The Dracula Daily community has done a lot to rehabilitate Jonathan Harker’s reputation, restoring his place as a courageous, resourceful vampire hunter and countering the pop-culture image of him as a clueless naif that’s persisted since the early film adaptations. Rough Draft Jonathan, meanwhile…well, he really is a whole lot more Like That. The whole first chunk of “Dracula’s Guest” mostly consists of him cheerfully ignoring a SPECTACULAR parade of red flags: 

Whereupon he burst out into a long story in German and English, so mixed up that I could not quite understand exactly what he said, but roughly I gathered that long ago, hundreds of years, men had died there and been buried in their graves; and sounds were heard under the clay, and when the graves were opened, men and women were found rosy with life, and their mouths red with blood. And so, in haste to save their lives (aye, and their souls!—and here he crossed himself) those who were left fled away to other places, where the living lived, and the dead were dead and not—not something. He was evidently afraid to speak the last words. As he proceeded with his narration, he grew more and more excited. It seemed as if his imagination had got hold of him, and he ended in a perfect paroxysm of fear—white-faced, perspiring, trembling and looking round him, as if expecting that some dreadful presence would manifest itself there in the bright sunshine on the open plain. Finally, in an agony of desperation, he cried: “Walpurgis nacht!” and pointed to the carriage for me to get in. All my English blood rose at this, and, standing back, I said: “You are afraid, Johann—you are afraid. Go home; I shall return alone; the walk will do me good.” The carriage door was open. I took from the seat my oak walking-stick—which I always carry on my holiday excursions—and closed the door, pointing back to Munich, and said, “Go home, Johann—Walpurgis-nacht doesn’t concern Englishmen.”

Abandoned village plagued by rumors of the Un-Dead? Carriage driver crossing himself repeatedly and refusing to go near the place? Even the horses are panicking and trying to get away? Sounds like a lovely place for an afternoon stroll! Sorry, I’m simply too English for foreshadowing. 

(Maybe this is just what comes of being engaged to Mina Murray, goth girl extraordinaire, who will later display the same “when in doubt, make a beeline for the creepiest local ghost stories” approach to vacation planning in Whitby.)

The inscription on the tomb of the vampire that Jonathan 1.0 encounters - who might or might not be one of the Brides of Dracula - identifies her as “COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ, IN STYRIA.” Styria is, of course, the setting of Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1872 vampire novel Carmilla, suggesting a direct connection between the two stories that didn't make it into the final novel.

The tomb is also inscribed with a Russian translation of “The Dead Travel Fast,” the same line from the German gothic ballad Lenore that will later get quoted at Jonathan on his first encounter with Dracula himself. He just cannot get away from that quote (and the gothic heroine narrative parallels inherent therein). 

Jonathan is saved from his nearly-fatal encounter with Countess Dolingen by a very familiar wolf, before being rescued by a search party of soldiers (who are understandably pretty freaked out about the whole affair). The maître d’ of his hotel later reveals to him that he knew to send out a search party thanks to a quietly hilarious telegram from Dracula himself, who’s evidently decided to take proactive steps to protect his guest/investment/snack for later:

Bistritz. Be careful of my guest—his safety is most precious to me. Should aught happen to him, or if he be missed, spare nothing to find him and ensure his safety. He is English and therefore adventurous. There are often dangers from snow and wolves and night. Lose not a moment if you suspect harm to him. I answer your zeal with my fortune.—Dracula.

The whole story is obviously Not Canon as far as Dracula proper is concerned - and in particular, the more oblivious narrator here is a pretty far cry from the Jonathan we've all come to know and love over the past several time loops. But all the same, it's a fascinating look at what could have been, and furnishes some intriguing ingredients for Dracula-adjacent storytelling (thanks to that Carmilla connection in particular). And it is pretty funny to imagine Jonathan going through All That and then just cheerfully getting back to travel-blogging his trip for Mina like absolutely nothing happened. All like, “Well, that was terrifying! Anyway.”

[jeonginsleftcheek]

omg okay so this is definitely inspired by not only the fuckboy lix but also the other works in your masterlist and they all swirled up and mixed in my brain and im just in emo hours right now so theres also that so...

College au ofc where the pretty and popular hyunjin falls in love at first sight with y/n but she thinks he's a player. He doesn't even act like it, he's actually rather shy and sweet and awkward but shes like oh no way he has to be getting pussy bc he is too damn hot! So she fucks him riiiiight? And the sex is... ok, he's very passionate tho and she goes on with her life. Hyunjin is clinging to her more and more though and she's like ??? bc isnt he supposed to be a player? Even though shes developing feelings, she keeps pushing him away bc she doesnt wanna get hurt when he leaves or plays her, but that only makes him go after her more which is strange bc theyre casual right, like shes still sleeping with other people (FELIX) and flirting around. Here's the thing though- hyunjin assumed they were dating the whole time. Like he's in love with her. She's his first relationship. Not a player. No bitches. Ngl im thinking of semi delusional hyunjin who is like "well why did u flirt with me if you werent serious" because he's such a pure romantic at heart. So however y/n finds out that hyune thinks their dating, maybe she overheard him tlking to someone else or her called her gf or something, so she panics and goes to talk about it with her fuckbuddy best friend Felix. But wait more drama!!! Felix knew the entire time because he shares a class with Hyunjin and has heard him gushing about you for the past few months. He's a possessive little shit and not about to allow you to be taken away from him, even if it means making you look like trash to hyunjin. So now youre between having to tell your boyfriend that youve been cheating and him and that he's actually not even your boyfriend. Oh and your best friend cant keep his hands off of you 🤷‍♀️

Thinking of the angst- when you ignore him hyunjin is scrambling to "mend" the relationship so u dont leave him, meanwhile u have no idea. Ugh and when lix leaves a mark or you smell like him and poor hyune thinks its ok as long as you come back to him at the end of the day like 🥺. Or felix seeing you slowly fall for hyunjin but deny yourself so he keeps putting words in your head about this and that so that u keep pushing hyunjin away and pulling him closer AAAAAARGHHHH

bestie when i started reading this ask, my heart leaped out of my chest bcs i have something similar planned for months and it's in my drafts-

literally a college au with hyunjin where she thinks he's a player but he's actually not, just that is the same but i won't reveal the rest of the story🤭

though i love your idea i might think about it eventually😏

love the drama💅🏻

[tessarionbestgirl]

If you could fix S2. How would do it?

Oh boy.

I, look there is so many things I would change about the show.

But, ok, second season only, plot wise. I would have had more locations to the story.

In the show we had, technically 5. Kingslanding, Dragonstone, the Driftmark the Arryn and Harrenhall. But truly there were only 3 relevant ones. I would change that.

For the first 4 episodes I will had Jace and wall 3 episodes focused on him the North, bounding with Cregan and Sarah. Make him seeing the nature of what being a bastad means, show him people making less of him. I would even make Sarah Snow older than Cregan and actually, in this sense, the royal heiress, would add so much in the sweet irony of his life, have to bargain and becomes close with people that have the same mentality of his enemy.

Meanwhile as close he get to Sarah, we saw Baela frustration with her father getting bigger and then receiving news that Jace didn't texted her. In episode 4 Jace cames back, he ignored her over shame and the. her grandma died. But she wouldn't go to Rhaenyra, because one thing I would change was Rhaenyra sending Rhenys, so she would not feel comfort to talking to her. In my drafts for the fix fanfic I had for S2, this scene was one of the first that come in mind.

Alyn walked to the docs at night, and see Baena sit there, he turn around, not wanting to disturb the young princess, but she stop him by making him a question in a defeated voice.

"What was my young mother like?", Alyn turns around and swallows noticing the young princess was looking at him. Baela laughs dryly.

"I know.... My father, my sister and even Jace don't think I understand, just because I don't say, but I always observing, I am always listening, and listed when Rhenys told me years ago Driftmark had a direct male sucessor."

"I don't pretend to hold such responsibility, a man like me.." Baela laughs again, interrupting him.

"The future king, my future husband is a man like you." Alyn is surprised and shocked by her honesty. He doesn't know whether to leave or stay there.

"For the days I only had my mom, my grandmother and my sister." She closes her eyes holding back tears. And open again, there is anger there. " Now I lost them both, 2 by dragon fire, and the other for the Vale."

She pauses and a tear runs down her cheek, Alyn is touched.

"But the worse part, I I barely remember my mother." Alyn sits next to her.

"I don't remember mine either." Both looking at the sea ahead. " But I do remember yours, she had the fire of the dragon on her, it took awhile for her that fire to burn inside her, but when it did, everyone saw how much it shone, you have the same fire on you."

Then after in episode 5 I would have choose to show add another location the Reach, Otto would be captured and they could introduce Daeron here, and show the conflict there because Ryan had the brilliant idea of making kings landing lack of food because of a barricade at sea, but forgot to explain why neither Reach or Stormlands are not sending food into kingslanding and plot would be useful for this, and I would end with Daeron marching.

Then in Kingslanding I would change some things. First I would make Alicent being conflicted about the war, but after Jaehaerys, that would confirmed every fear she had, and that would make her embracing revenge and the desire to make them pay and since the show likes to play this as Rhaenyra vs Alicent I would have make Alicent actually advising Aegon behind the doors, until the battle in which he became a dragon barbecue, now that would male sense for Aemond shut her down and seeing how dangerous he is all the power she lost she goes to the Harrenhall with Healana and met Daemon and Rhaenyra with Cole and the green army to propose to separate the kingdom in half.

For Rhaenyra I would have make her saying " A son for a son." Instead of only "Aemond." Because at least when Daemon and her fight the blame not only would fall on him, and would be a better transition to her character accepting she needs to do bad to win, and you could read her mind going "oh well That was horrible but it suits me, maybe the ends justify the means."

Helaena is other story but all her arc that happened off screen I would make on screen. She realising her visions are a thing, probably through a conversation between her and Aemond where he would say to her he feels sorry for the Jaehaerys' death.

Then she accepting his fate, and meeting Alys in a dream, and probably dreaming with Maelor and having sex with Aegon after he got burn. Because that only would add to the tragedy of her conceiving him because of a vision she had and then he dies. That would drive someone suicidal.

Is that good enough? I don't know but maybe when I was not tired as I am I even write that fanfic.

[atlasofthestaars]

ok wait i just reread one of my drafts for a fic and like ??? ok i think i miss my old writing style here because I COOKED imo

uh blah blah it's under the cut, it's a little snippet of that little drabble set I was working on "a heart's beat" where they realize they're in love with you. the part below is just PART of bi-han's section because one of my favorite past times is bullying the man by giving him emotions

It was the moment Bi-Han realized that he didn’t quite mind your presence.

Bi-Han was not a man who socialized. That was a well known fact. Anyone who met him would know that immediately from the standoffish aura he had. One wouldn't even have to even to talk to him, in fact, to know this. The almost permanent glare he seemed to wear was an indication enough. Bi-Han was fine with this reputation. 

And yet, despite this reputation, you seemed to always be nearby. Oftentimes, if a Lin Kuei member went to the office of their almighty grandmaster, you would be lounging casually there. You would always look relaxed, comfortable, as if the room were instead yours. Despite you being an intrusion on the supposed privacy of their grandmaster, Bi-Han never seemed to mind. In fact, he almost seemed to encourage it. After all, it wasn’t just mere coincidence that you just so happened to have your own little sofa to relax on.

If anyone were to ask Bi-Han though, he’d simply send them a glare. If it were Tomas or Kuai Liang asking, he’d also mutter something on how you would be messing around with his other furniture otherwise. Everyone saw past the glares and knew the silent truth, but no one said anything. It was nice to see their grandmaster be a little more soft.

Not that anyone would tell the grandmaster that. 

The extent of your presence around the Grandmaster wasn’t limited to just hanging around in his office. Outside of the office, you could be seen sitting next to him during meal times. Or you could be seen by his side when he went to observe training. You two were attached at the hip, and the members of the clan would never stop marveling over it.

Sometimes they joked in the quietest of rooms, since they feared either you or their grandmaster would overhear, that you would soon accompany their grandmaster on missions. You didn’t, but when he was out, oftentimes they found you lingering near the entrance. No matter how many times they jested or gossiped over it, they all knew that deep down they were at least a little envious of the close bond the two of you had. 

Bi-Han, meanwhile, took a little while longer than everyone else to realize the fact that he too, craved your presence. Was it a matter of pride, unwilling to recognize the little signs of attraction? Or was it a matter of ignorance, being so emotionally stunted he was unable to identify the signs since they seemed like a foreign language to him. The reason was unknown, but did it really matter? In the end, he figured it out and it hit him like a truck all the same.

[fincalinde]

nice to see you back on here! if you're answering questions again, i've had something i've been meaning to ask, if you don't mind. do you have any thoughts on the things wwx and jc did for each other?

I'm never truly gone. Whenever you see a fox scurrying about its business in the twilight, I am with you in spirit. By which I mean I'm very busy but I do get a notif if someone sends me an ask.

This one has sat in my drafts for a while and it's still quite messy, but I thought I'd better just get it off the to do list and move on. So, the Twin Heroes!

I've seen quite a bit of negativity towards JC in my time, usually accusing him of all manner of iniquities that aren't actually supported by the text. To make my own position clear: I don't think JC did nothing wrong ever in his life. But I do think he's a capable clan leader and an extremely loyal brother who tried very hard to make things work with WWX.

Let's start with the biggie: WWX gives JC his core. It is an incredible act of love to be sure. Functionally it saves JC's life (he's not going to last long in that state) along with preserving the existence of the Jiang Clan itself. I don't have a problem with WWX making a unilateral decision here, because he knows JC won't agree otherwise and the stakes could not be higher. It also makes sense that the Grandmaster of Impulsive Cultivation conceals the entire thing from JC. He knows the effect the truth will have on JC, and he's just trying to get them through the current crisis and worry about the consequences later. So I think his choices are understandable in a desperate situation where there are no good options.

To be honest, what bothers me is WWX's subsequent dumbassery. My god, man, what is the point of making a monumental sacrifice for someone and then proceeding to fuck shit up for him on a regular basis afterwards?

WWX's behaviour is catastrophic for the Jiang. I understand that he's in his emo goth era and I don't expect him to make perfect decisions at all times, but the way he treads on JC's toes makes my teeth hurt. Quite probably WWX himself was never going to end up in a good place, since his demonic cultivation made him too much of a threat for the Jin (or society at large) to leave him in peace. But that's not particularly relevant to the way he undermines JC. On more than one occasion, JC is doing his best to navigate a delicate political situation and WWX clomps in with his size 13s and makes everything worse for everyone. This, as much as popular sentiment turning against WWX, is a huge driver in why they have to fake their falling out and sever ties publicly.

Meanwhile, JC makes an equivalent sacrifice for WWX—he lets himself be captured, even though it results in the loss of his core and, as far as he knows at the time, the functional extinction of his clan. This is revealed right at the end of MDZS, encouraging the reader to look back at the novel and recontextualise JC's actions throughout. JC put WWX above his own life and the continued existence of his clan. There can be no question that he made as enormous a sacrifice for WWX as WWX made for him. Their mutual ignorance of this fact for so many years is the heart of their tragedy.

But crucially, there remains a difference between WWX and JC. Because JC doesn't only come through for WWX when the stakes are high. Right up until the death of JYL, JC is the one trying to balance his responsibility to his clan with his desire to protect WWX. For a start, they fake the cutting of ties between WWX and the Jiang, when it arguably would be much less risky for JC to cut ties in actuality. JC is also the one taking further risks by allowing WWX to see JYL in her wedding clothes. He even suggests WWX gets to pick her child's courtesy name. These things show a pattern of consideration that WWX simply does not match.

Let's not forget, JC does a decent job as clan leader. He's very young, and unlike NMJ or LXC, he has to build his clan again from literally nothing. Disciples need to be recruited and trained from scratch. Lotus Pier needs to be rebuilt—without Jin gold. He's doing what needs to be done to ensure the Jiang Clan continues to exist, yet still attempting to balance that with his loyalty to WWX even as WWX becomes more and more of a liability. Yes, WWX is being affected by the resentful energy he's cultivating, but his arrogance has been present from the start. It's not that the resentful energy is creating new traits in him, but that existing traits are being exaggerated.

WWX does a lot of very admirable and brave things and he is pretty much always trying to do right by the people he cares about i.e. the Jiang and the Wenmants. The trouble is that he's fundamentally not capable of recognising the damage he's also doing. His altercation with JZX over the soup is one thing—though JC (with JGS) has to pull him off JZX and it makes a bad situation worse, it's an understandable impulse reaction to seeing his beloved shijie being mistreated. But despite the negative consequences of his impulsivity, he never learns to stop and gather more information before reacting (unlike JZX!). He continues to undermine JC by letting the whole world see that he doesn't respect his authority. This really is where I as a reader get stuck: what use is the grand gesture of the core swap when the more everyday consideration is so totally lacking?

I also think it's interesting that in the temple JGY points out to JC that if he'd stuck by WWX, no one could have done anything about it and things might have turned out quite differently. I don't think JGY is being truthful here; or at the very least, if he is being truthful then I don't agree with his assessment. It's a remark intended to goad JC and prod him where he's most sensitive, and it's successful in that regard. I'd be willing to bet that deep down JC does fear that if he'd backed up WWX then everything might have been all right and JZX and JYL would still be alive.

But it's simply not true. WWX's affiliation with the Jiang is catastrophic for them. He openly flouts JC's authority—and of course his demonic cultivation taints the Jiang by association, particularly in light of the Jin smear campaign. WWX's intervention to rescue the Wenmants is the last excuse JGS needs to do what he planned from the beginning: put a target on WWX's back. This isn't a post about whether or not WWX's actions to protect the Wenmants are moral; it's merely an observation that they put JC and the Jiang at risk by association, especially when WWX also deliberately insults the Jin in a public forum. The Jin don't exactly need to work hard to sabotage WWX's reputation: they're merely handing him the rope and he's merrily tying the noose. On a pragmatic level, an actual estrangement rather than a fake one would have been the more better option for JC if his sole priority was the wellbeing of his clan and not also his love for WWX.

On the other hand, if WWX had continued with his demonic cultivation but respected the authority of his clan leader and not undermined him in public, JC might have been more able to effectively protect him. I'm not entirely convinced by that argument, but I certainly find it more plausible than the idea that JC backing WWX would have prevented the consequences of the determined Jin smear campaign.

Essentially, my point is that I'm not splitting hairs about the degree to which JC and WWX love each other. Their love for each other is not in question. Nor is it in question that they have made equally huge sacrifices for each other. But there's the rub. What about the small sacrifices? Who is making those? More often than not, it's JC. JC has the weight of his clan's survival on his shoulders and he still does his best to remain privately loyal to WWX despite the risk it poses to his own position. He only turns on WWX when WWX's actions result in the death of JZX and JYL—JYL being arguably the only person they both love even more than they love each other. (Sorry, LWJ. You only make the leaderboard in Life 2.) Meanwhile, WWX is willing to give up his core for JC but not willing to make the effort to present a united front against political foes who are actively trying to destroy them. He loves JC, but I see no evidence that he respects him.

[anulithots]

ok so i'm a bit curious

why does anuli hate faerself, and how does faer happiness cause harm to others? i've seen some posts about faer and fae is so interesting!!! if the reason is a spoiler for your wip i completely understand!!!! fae is my favorite <33

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASKKKKKKK! <3 <3

I think spoilers are better than trailers, shrugs SO YES I SHALL INFODUMP!! (Also most of this is backstory and I'll eventually get to the present day plot... aka: Anuli's insane shenanigans in an effort to rewrite faerself.)

("ANULI GUESS WHAT? YOU'RE GETTING FANART AND BEING A FAVORITE!!!"

... ignore faer reaction.)

Anuli is a houseplant, and given that fae's outside and permanently separated (fae doesn't remember how and I don't want to write it... it was in previous drafts, and I wasn't feeling it.), the elders of the Unseen deemed faer as condemned pretty much immediately, no whole 'evaluation period' like with other fairies (it's a whole process that's still pretty much inescapable when someone important suspects a fairy, but since the process is complicated the elders can use the excuse that they give the condemned/fallen fairies plenty of chances.)

So while all that happens in the background -Anuli's never that aware of the worldbuilding... or the world in general - Anuli's tethered to a 'fence' near Kamari's tree, (The elders wanted to condemn them both, so they placed Anuli near Kamari... meanwhile found family ensues). Anuli spends faer day daydreaming, telling stories, and hoping that Kamari stays forever and STOPS LEAVING.

Anuli gets both understimulated (can't get faer ideas out that much and this causes faer feelings to build up) and overstimulated (faer tether is really itchy to faer and without anyone around to distract faer from it, the tether bothers faer) when Kamari leaves, which causes faer to do everything under the sun to stay happy and pleasant. Anuli feels everything so strongly: happiness, distress, boredom, and fae often gets overwhelmed by them.

To deal with said emotions, fae makes stories to process them, and its happy endings fae clings to the most, and it's happy endings fae has a difficult time with.

All that's to say, one day Kamari leaves for a little longer than usual, and Anuli gets sooo upset at everything that fae tears off faer tether and goes to search for Kamari.

One whole arc I still have to write later, in which Kamari's entire life implodes, and the platonic ship implodes, and Anuli's safe place implodes, and Anuli is effectively a fallen fairy and...

Whenever Anuli is happy, fae makes some sort of mistake. Mistakes cause pain to others, ruin thier happy endings. Happy endings are what Anuli struggles with, so the story must not want faer to have one. What sort of character can't have a happy ending, what sort of character hurts others and deserves to suffer?

Villains, of course.

And because Anuli processes all faer thoughts and feelings through stories, fae puts faerself in this box, and justifies it because every. single. time. fae's happy fae makes some sort of mistake and spirals right afterwards. Every. single. time. fae's happy then Kamari suffers (fae isn't exactly wrong here...) and it's awful and there's so many icky emotions that Anuli cannot handle. Every. single. time. fae's happy Anuli re-realizes that everyone would be better off if fae wasn't.

So fae tries not to be. (fae wants it so bad)

Fae repeats the whole 'ripping off tether' situation, Kamari's distress afterwards, over and over and over again, constantly stews in that regret, over and over and over and over.

Fae deserves it. All that self-caused suffering and little self-destructive behaviors. It's a good thing, then not only will no one else have to suffer, but faer sensitive soul won't have to deal with the pain

TL;DR: it's a safety mechanism so faer past doesn't repeat itself (it always does).

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE ASKKK!!!!! KKFDSF I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY LITTLE BEAN

[berrypass-de-murdler]

52. A Return to the Institute

I was feeling crappy about the series again, and then I saw stuff you all said, and I feel better <3 I love everyone who reads this series <3

I have Admiral Navy done but I was kicked upstairs so I can't take a picture right now, yayy!! guess I'll have to save him for next episode ;;

For the time being, I finally gachafied the goat lord!! I spent multiple drafts on this so I hope he looks okai. He's a silli babiboi <3

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Logico goes back to the Institute - of course, the place where he first laid eyes on Irratino. It’s overgrown and dead (just like Irratino), and the only person there is a body… and the other people who work there. But ignoring that… the luxurious tree that smothered newcomers is immediately a dying wilt without the goat lord’s warmth, and no one wants to play mini-golf ever again. Oh right the body.

Raven flies around the lookout tower, circling it.

LOGICO: Like a vulture above its newest prey.

Onyx pokes around with a poking stick because she’s too short, until she sees Logico, and realizes what the real definition of short is. Meanwhile,

FLINT: I want Irratino’s money. He’s got so much of it!

He’s met with a swift kick to the nuts. Angry tiny man is not fucking around. 

Logi goes to pee, and his magnificent eye tears up as he remembers how he always used to go pee in the middle of an investigation, and see heartfelt messages written to him on the mirror… 

His heart nearly stops when he sees one. 

“The second shortest suspect had the hypnotic pocket watch.”

That… that’s something only Irratino would say. Logico breathes onto the mirror and writes a message of his own.

“Are you here?”

He prays that the mirror’s fog is a line of communication. But unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get a response. 

Guess the stupid murderer! The greedy bastard.

FLINT: The dude was LITERALLY carrying around a million dollars cash JUST ‘CAUSE HE COULD! I wanted to get SOME of that money, just SOME of it! And I would have, if not for you! Inspector Irratino willed this whole place to the guard who died, because he said he could be trusted!  LOGICO: His… will? He was so young… FLINT: Except that guard trusted ME! ‘Cause of my HYPNOTIC POCKET WATCH! And I used it to get him to put me on the will! And then, well, you’ve figured out what I did then. Haha. And I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for you meddling short grown man!

Night was there the whole time (but no one noticed and that made them very sad), Onyx was poking at shit the entire time, and Raven was looking for love on the ground below. But Logico doesn’t care.

In fact, he ACTUALLY DOESN’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT A MURDER.

Except one.

The end!

(happy irratino gif to distract from encroaching angst)

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[edennill]

I got a lot of comments that time I made a poll about potential Silmarillion adaptations, to the effect that there already are two musicals of the Lay of Leithian, and this, among other things, has prompted me to write down my thoughts on the Rock Operas. I know there's more of them, but I will confess I've only had much contact with the two most famous ones; also fair warning that I'm mostly going to point out faults in this post (not that there aren't things I like in them, but that's not the focus here).

To start with, I'm going to quickly get out of the way the fact that even if none of the following were issues, the Rock Operas would still not cure my hankering for a Beren & Lúthien musical, because out of necessity, they don't have the same vibe as a greater-scale Broadway production and thus aren't really comparable. Now, moving on to my bigger issues with the two productions:

(1) It is difficult for me to get engaged in an entire musical in a language I do not speak — and I admit I'm probably in a better position than many because as a polish speake, with the translation underneath I can understand maybe one word in ten? And when I do — say, when Mandos sings "o synie Barahira" in Leithian — that moment is powerful because it's exactly the same as it would be said in my mother tongue, but otherwise it's reading prose poetry (translated by people without much experience with one of the languages, which shows, though I greatly thank them for their work) with music in the background for me. As a disclaimer, I'll add that this is not a technical complaint, but it certainly impacts my own listening experience.

Edit: This post has been waiting in my drafts for a while, and in the meanwhile, I've realised I can get to one in three (I counted) through repeatedly giving a song an intent listening. I'm even thinking of maybe making a semi-translation into Polish of some, one where I try to keep to cognates when possible even if they're not entirely correct. But I do not see how more people who speak no Slavic language do not find it a problem.

Of course this can sometimes backfire in a way that makes a phrase sound ridiculous.

(2) I also don't agree with all the narrative choices — for one, I am dissatisfied with how the romance is handled in wither Opera, as both make it out that Lúthien falls in love against her will which leaves a bad taste in my mouth — and Finrod Song makes Beren behave like a jerk towards Finrod at times, among other things — neither of which I understand. Then there's the visual side, which I mention since the choreography of most songs bugs me in Leithian. And to top it all off —

(3) We can argue about what historical Russian culture is worth to us right now another time. But these are ongoing productions, and unfortunately I dare say at least 50% the participants are probably in favour of the current war — which, you may understand, makes the situation quite awkward for me as an Eastern European. (I suppose if I found the rest of it absolutely perfect, I might elect to try my best to ignore the fact, but as is I find it bothersome. Which, I suppose, makes me a hypocrite given my thoughts about cancel culture, but never mind.)

[landwriter]

Oh my god your writing has me in a choke hold!!! I’m curious about Hands and/or Shut Up, please! Your brain is amazing and lovely and I’m very excited to hear anything you have to share about your WIPs💚

Thank you so much! I've got a couple Hands asks marinating and nothing to offer for them yet, so Shut Up is the Twitter Beef AU (another excerpt here) where Hob is a comparative lit professor and Dream is an underground electronic artist, and Hob comes for him on Twitter. Death meddles and drops a diss track. Hob finds out at his last lecture before hols and plays it for his course in a fit of pique, and...ends up having the best two hours of his teaching career?

He slides into Dream's DMs for the first time under the cut:

He catches sight of the time and is surprised to see it’s five minutes past the hour. Normally, his cue is when a handful of students start pointedly packing their things in the last few minutes of the lecture. “Okay, we’ve gone on too long, because you’re all still here, letting me, but I do need to get to office hours, so let me conclude with the argument that this is why textual analysis is so important, right? The author chooses their words to say more than one thing, and, as we learned, having additional knowledge of where they’re coming from - historically, socially, culturally - is the real Rosetta stone for understanding their message. I encourage you to think about that while you choose your final paper topics over break. A final reminder that your draft thesis is due on our first week back, and yes, I will be able to tell if you came up with it that morning, so please, please, give it some thought. If anyone feels keen and wants to talk about their ideas now, you know where to find me. Office hours go until 6. Alright, go, be free. My apologies to anyone who was excited for Marlowe - we’ll cover him when we come back instead! Have an amazing break, folks.”

Students are coming over already and he holds up a quelling hand. “Office hours, guys. I have other classes! I’ll see you there.”

It’s true, of course, but also he wants just a quick moment to himself to do something. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he pulls out his phone and ignores all his notifications to send a DM to Morpheus before he can think too hard on what he’s doing.

didn't know you needed to be protected by your big sis, next time i'll go easier on you x

He hesitates, deletes the x, and sends it, and jams his phone back into his pocket. After his office hours - exhaustingly well-attended - he finally has a chance to check his phone again. He's not used to actually having three hours worth of students to talk to.

There's three messages from Morpheus.

she insisted also i wrote most of it for the record

He raises his eyebrows. The messages are from nearly two hours ago, which he hopes means it's not uncool and weird if he replies right now.

it was you? it's incredible writing

Then, feeling suddenly far too earnest, he quickly adds:

almost like you went to school for being something other than a pretentious goth cunt

His reply is marked read immediately and he nearly chokes on his tea. He desperately wishes he could delete the last message now. Too much, he thinks. Always too much, Hobsie. Morpheus is typing.

don't need to go to school for that x and thanks

He puts down his phone violently and stands up, breathes out. He feels like a teenager with a crush. His phone buzzes again and he snatches it back.

meanwhile i bet u have student loans still prof

Hob laughs.

only a little. some of us had to learn how to be pretentious actually x

He thinks for a moment, then adds, wincing a little at the size of the text block:

thanks btw. aside from threats from ur insane fans I also had the best lecture attendance in ages and my office hours were 'sold out' lol. if all I had to do for better student engagement was get in an internet feud with a random musician I'd have done it years earlier.

so u concede i'm a musician :)

you still have terrible taste in shoes hey i see you typing if you say anything about my sweatervest i'm blocking you!!

then have a good night, professor gadling

you too

Then he waits a little too long, maybe, before adding:

morpheus

[historypoem]

Ohhh, so your life is the lyrics of Tears Over Beers by Modern Baseball? Really out here, with the self-pity playlist blaring, building an entire personality out of this one scene where you’re trapped in conversation with a girl who’s nice, pretty, and, let’s be real, out of your league, but instead of saying something remotely interesting, you’re mentally rolling your eyes, thinking “Ugh, meathead monologue? Really?” Like she owes you some world-altering epiphany about life and love just because you shuffled in with your pathetic sad-boy complex and thought it would be deep if you could suffer through it? Buddy, you’re not living out a poetic tragedy—you’re just a guy with unrealistic expectations and zero self-awareness, sitting there expecting some “angelic muse” to read your mind and fall head-over-heels for your imagined brilliance. Spoiler: she’s just talking about Brad, and you’re not getting a Pulitzer.

So this is what you’ve reduced yourself to? The eternally suffering indie sad boi, trapped in his own mental cage, sighing into a beer about how nobody understands the depth of his introspective pain because they’re all too busy with “shallow” things, like relationships or having fun or, God forbid, talking about things that don’t revolve around you? You’re the guy who hears one girl mention a bad breakup and immediately thinks, “Wow, she’s got no substance.” All the while, you’re sitting there, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re the most boring person at this table. “Oh, she’s ‘friendly and thoughtful and quite awfully pretty’—but she’s got a meathead monologue? Tragic.” My guy, if you’re that picky, why don’t you just date a character from Dostoevsky? That way, she’ll be as tragically boring as you are.

You think you’re deep? Just because you can sit there judging every word that comes out of someone else’s mouth? As if you’re some tragic sage, wallowing in your own self-important critique of society. “Oh, she’s just talking about Brad.” Yeah, well, maybe if you weren’t mentally drafting your next Reddit post about “why women don’t appreciate sensitive guys,” you’d actually realize she’s just trying to make conversation. And you? You’re out here thinking the world owes you an Oscar for enduring her so-called “meathead monologue” while you sit there like a wilted Victorian damsel, like, “Oh, woe is me. Will no one lift this curse of mundane conversation?” You’re basically the guy who thinks he’s too special for small talk, but if we ever got to your thoughts, it’d just be a never-ending stream of self-pity and outdated pop-culture references.

And the way you’ve internalized this Modern Baseball song? It’s actually impressive how much you’ve twisted yourself into thinking you’re some kind of romantic anti-hero because a pretty girl dared to bring up something that doesn’t align with your imaginary script for “How Interesting Women Should Talk to Me.” You’ve convinced yourself that the true tragedy is how she doesn’t understand you, even though you’re the one ignoring her every word and counting the seconds until you can get back to your endless, sad-boy doom scroll through obscure YouTube videos.

Like, you think people are just gonna show up and start spilling their guts with deeply profound insights the minute they meet you, without any effort on your part? You think you’re so special that others should sense your tortured soul, feel your vast emotional needs, and go, “Wow, he’s worth diving deep for.” Meanwhile, the most complex thing you’ve said all week is, “Nobody gets me.” You’ve got all the depth of a kiddie pool filled with store-brand energy drinks, yet you expect people to wade in like it’s some intellectual ocean.

And let’s talk about why Brad ran away, shall we? Because Brad probably ran the second he realized he was gonna have to listen to the same mopey, monotone monologue about “the pain of misunderstood love” for the rest of his life. Brad saw that bleak future coming and did what any sane person would do—he left. Brad looked at you, looked at the energy-sucking black hole of your self-obsessed sad-boy routine, and noped out, faster than you can say “My Chemical Romance.” And now here you are, painting him as a meathead, acting like you’re the victim of shallow people. But in reality, he’s just some guy who didn’t want to end up talking about 18th-century nihilism over beers every night until his will to live evaporated completely.

Let’s face it: you’re so caught up in this romanticized image of your life being some tragic indie song that you’ve forgotten how to actually interact with people. You think you’re the dark knight of loneliness, the patron saint of misunderstood dudes with too many opinions on anime and philosophy. But what are you really? A guy who thinks he’s too good for basic conversation, just sitting there with your arms crossed, mentally berating a girl because she dared to talk about anything other than you. You think you’re Hamlet out here, when really, you’re just a dude at a bar with too much time on his hands and an inflated sense of importance.

This “life is a Modern Baseball song” mentality isn’t a personality; it’s a defense mechanism. You’re hiding behind it because actually getting out there, actually putting in the work to get to know someone? Terrifying. Because then you might actually have to talk about your own life, your own choices, and who you actually are outside of this darkly romanticized pity party you’ve been throwing for yourself since age 15. It’s easier to sit there and sulk, pretend that everyone else is too basic, too boring, too “meathead,” while you get to be the tortured artist sitting on a barstool, counting all the ways that life just doesn’t understand you.

[cypanache]

okay darling. for the wip ask game that you tagged me in. I know it's been a minute since you posted it, so feel free to ignore, but i'd like to know more about either 'date my wife' or 'raised a sith'– you pick! since I know all about the obidala stuff, and very little about those, i'm curious.

Ugh, I've been so heads down on Countdown, I'm finally getting around to going through my ask box so apologies for the insanely late reply on this.

I talked about the 'date my wife' wip here. So let's do the raised a sith au, because I'm insanely excited about this one, and it even has a title now "Chirality".

So after repeatedly and painstakingly walking back sexual tension in like every draft of every obidala fic I have ever written, because they're just so damn good and they wouldn't, not yet ... I really just wanted to let Obi-Wan and Padme be unrepentantly hot for each. So I asked myself what would it take for them to stop worrying so much about it all and the answer as you so eloquently put it, is 'they could be evil, as a treat'

That's it, that's the fic.

No really. Imagine a world where Obi-Wan got left on Bandomeer by Qui-Gon and then eventually rescued by Dooku and taken as his apprentice and later left the order with him. Meanwhile imagine a Padme who never left Coruscant after her appeal to the Senate in TPM and instead stayed under house arrest while she watched her world ravaged by the Trade Federation with Palpatine stoking her outrage and anger into something truly spectacular. But to the galaxy she still presents as Padme Amidala as we know here during AotC. So drop poor baby Anakin into the events of AotC and The Clone Wars between these two opposing dark proteges who are sort of allies and sort of adversaries, but are definitely obsessed with each other, watch them ruin him.

I honestly feel a little bad tagging this obianidala because its me, so its definitely very obidala focused and Anakin is in way way over his head being manipulated and gaslit at every turn, but it is there at least as an implied future state so there you go. Also its a SithAU so while I don't write terribly explicit or kinky sex, all the warnings for mind games, manipulation, violence, unnegotiated everything, and basically terrible people who should absolutely be kept away from Anakin Skywalker at all costs, but won't be. Sexy, though not explicit, excerpt below the cut:

He’s waiting for her when she gets back to her apartments.  Lounging on the bed like he owns the place. Utterly unconcerned with the fact that in less than a day’s time all of the Senate will be calling for his head along with his Master’s. 

One of her handmaidens comes over to assist her and Padme grits her teeth in irritation as she takes in the blank expression, the clumsy movements.  Oh, she despises when he does this.  True, it was amusing the first time or two.  And she has always had a weak spot for power in all its flavors.  But these days she just finds it tiresome.  They’re utterly useless for anything more complicated than the most basic of tasks for hours after he does this.

Dismissing Eirtae with a wave of her hand she rounds on him in a huff.

“I wish you would stop doing that.  You know you don’t have anything to worry about.  They’re all completely loyal.  I’ve made sure of it.”

Obi-Wan grins, vulpine and vicious and absolutely unrepentant.  “To you.  They’re all completely loyal to you.  I doubt there’s a single one among them who would spare me a second thought.”

“That’s not true, there’s at least three who would strangle their own mother for the opportunity to put a blaster to your temple and pull the trigger.”  Turning, she holds out her arms and then looks back over her shoulder, imperious and expectant.  “Well?  You can hardly expect me to get out of this on my own.”

He doesn’t.  That’s the entire point of this petty little show of his.  He likes the opportunity to undo her, deconstruct the facade she presents to the galaxy layer by careful layer.  Until she’s laid bare in more ways than one.

Coming up behind her, he trails his fingertips up the length of each arm before he settles his hands against the line of the high collar in a way that from anyone else would be a threat.  But he could force choke her from halfway across the room and they both know it.  And they both know Palpatine would make him regret it for the rest of his very long and very painful life if he ever tried.  

She smiles at him in the mirror and presses back a little into the joints of his fingers calling his bluff.  “You know we debated putting a bounty on your head this afternoon.”

He tsks.  “How very uncivilized.”

“Yes, well, attempting to exterminate the entire Jedi Council does tend to provoke people’s ire.”

“Oh, is that the version they’re selling to the Senate?”

She spins in grasp, indignant now, “Don’t be insulting.  You know better than anyone how useless the Jedi are at politics.  It’s the version I’m selling to the Senate.  Very effectively I might add.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he says, skimming a kiss once against her mouth.  Then deepening it as his hands come up to her headdress and she feels him begin to remove the hairpins holding it in place one by one.  It’s not precisely what she had in mind when she told him to undress her, but Obi-Wan wouldn’t be Obi-Wan if he wasn’t always looking for the loophole and Padme allows it.  It’s been months since she’s been kissed well.  Whatever Anakin’s potential, both as a lover and a darksider, and it is glorious, it’s all raw and unrealized, it will take her years to mold him to her liking.  Pleasurable work perhaps but work to be sure.  Sometimes a lady just wishes to rest on laurels.

Particularly when her laurels are so very, very appealing.

Obi-Wan frowns against her mouth, “Your shields are down.”

“Are they?” She asks innocently, biting at his bottom lip with just a little too much force in punishment for both starting and stopping without permission.  “And did you like what you heard?”

He pulls back.  “You know I didn’t.”

She turns away with a huff, and removes the last few pins herself, running her fingers through her hair to free it and denying him the pleasure.  “Oh yes, you’ve made your feelings on the matter quite clear.  His arm, Obi-Wan?  Was that really necessary?”

“Maybe not, but it was fun.”

Padme scowls at him over her shoulder.

He just laughs.  A cocky, contemptuous sound that sets her teeth on edge and her blood on fire, “Oh dear, are you upset I scratched up your pretty plaything?  And here I thought you were a fan of my work.  I even signed this one for you.”

“And if I thought it had anything to do with me, rather than breaking the boy Qui-Gon Jinn actually wanted enough to take as an apprentice, I might be flattered.  Besides–” she gives him her most petulant pout, “I didn’t even get to watch.  You know that’s my favorite part.”

[3katanas]

I've had a few people ask me lately or comment on how many threads I can get out in a sitting sometimes. So I thought I would share some of my 10 years on this hell site/have had way to many muses at one point wisdom with the dash.

First off, for your sanity's sake :)

It's always important to go at your own pace. Don't worry about how long it takes to reply! Because the people who really want to write with you won't care. They'll just be happy that it appears when it does!

If you're not feeling a thread then drop it and start something new. Its really ok to do that and sometimes we forget that. We're here to have fun after all!

Sometimes it's refreshing to just take a break from your drafts/inbox. Spend a day or two just enjoying the dash and interacting with people!

If you're a multiuse, remember that muses can wake up and go to sleep on us without warning. That's ok, roll with it!

Feeling like you've lost momentum? Try adding a new verse or chucking your muse into a new fandom. Sometimes we love our muses but can need a break from the fandom so giving them something new can revitalize them.

Take breaks. Allow yourself time off from Tumblr. If it's stressing you out then it's not doing what it's supposed to do and that's relaxing/hanging out with other nerds.

Try mixing up your writing. If you write longer threads typically, try a day of doing one-liners and let the chaos ensue OR vice versa, expand your writing and dive into your muse and what they are thinking/feeling/doing when replying.

You and your friend vibing one night? Reply back and forth immediately!

And most importantly, its ok to respectfully say no.

Drowning in Drafts/Asks/and Starters? Try these fun ways to tackle them!

Figuring out what your 'average daily limit' is can be super helpful. For me personally, I average around about ten things a day. Use this amount as your benchmark of how many things you want to try to get done. It can help it feel less overwhelming because you're setting a smaller goal. (I actually mange to keep somewhat ontop of my drafts and things with this method personally)

Throw everything into your drafts box (ignore the number of drafts on the side if you do this). This will give you variety when replying to things and make it easier to see what you have on your to-do plate. It also helps you keep on top of old memes/starters because you'll see how long ago they were sent/requested.

Try munching through one muse at a time if you're a multiuse blog OR munching through a specific verse. Pick one and do all the drafts for that muse/verse.

Have a lot of threads from one person? Reply to them all at once (I suggest queuing if you do this so as not to spam them or yourself if they reply quickly). This can get you into the grove because you're following the same timelines/relationships throughout all of the threads.

Don't know where to start? Use the luck of the draw to pick! I personally will throw all of the verses I have to reply to onto this wheel and see what it gives me.

Spend a day doing just memes or those starters you owe.

Does music help you write? Make playlists for different ships/verses/moods etc! (My current count of playlists for Zoro is 27....and counting)

Queuing and Scheduling

The Queue and Scheduling are your friends! I personally use a mix of approaches to these two methods. Here are some things I have found help me:

Have someone you love replying to but responds at lightning speed? Queue it, or schedule it to post the next day so that if they respond quickly it doesn't stress you out while you're trying to get your drafts down.

If I have a lot of threads with someone I'll typically queue more of those, meanwhile if we have only one or two threads I try to post those right away. This helps me feel like I'm not making one person wait longer than another, etc.

Some threads are amazing, but long and can take it out of us. Queue them.

Want to reblog everything at once but also don't want to? Schedule those out for one a day at a time. That way it posts sooner (especially if your queue is large) but not right away.

Adjust the speed at which things queue. In a slump, set the number slower. Writing more? Up that queue posting speed.

And finally, and I can't stress this enough, because I used to also be shy about doing it. Reach out. Start new things. Try new verses. Make new friends. Throw memes at each other. Don't let your drafts box or how much you have to do hold you back from simply enjoying your time on this hell site.

From one mun to another,

Yuki <3