#also i just like rereading my own writing sometimes. it's good for self confidence.

[orcelito]

Thinking about rereading Sentido before I reread ITNL

I peeked in the last chapter and I was like "damn ok this is actually kinda good"

[l-in-the-light]

Love your account ❤️🥰 What do you like best about Law?

Thank you <3 Sorry for the late reply, I was sitting on this one for a while, because I thought giving it time would help me write a better answer. But this is so difficult, because where do I even start? How can I say what I have in my heart so it doesn't actually just sound weak and pretentious, but also not extremely dramatic?

Maybe let's start from the fact I didn't fall for him at first sight. I totally didn't care about him in Sabaody when I first read that arc. The first moment he truly earned my sympathy was his confession in Dressrosa, I went all whoa, I was hoping for some open show of emotions, but I didn't expect this intensity hiding under the surface. Then Wano happend and he was so cool in Wano. And then I caught up with the manga in Egghead arc. He still wasn't my favourite, but things were slowly changing. I started noticing how much I actually miss him in the story. I started worrying for him. Finally, I gave up and just reread his parts from earlier arcs and damn it just hit differently the second time around. Before I noticed it he became one of my top 3 characters. Soon after, he sneakily took the number 1 spot as well without me realizing.

I love how unyielding he is, especially against Doflamingo, someone who constantly gaslights him. And oh boy I have been in that spot before, when a mentor figure tries to push their own way of seeing things without listening even for a moment to other reasons. I'm always surprised by Doflamingo-Law conflict in Dressrosa exactly because of that; Law keeps pushing in what he believes in instead. Even fandom buys Doflamingo's point of view on Law: yes, he's just a pitiful vengeful ghost, he's just lashing out, he needs to be put back into his place and silenced. But no, Law's not having any of that. It feels like a catharsis for me to see that and it restored my own faith, at least a little bit, because if Law could deal with all that shit and didn't truly lose (technically he did, but it was to his own good heart imo), then inevitably I also feel myself becoming more unyielding, it rubs off.

He's so unbelievably strong, but it's not about his attacks or power, but mental strength. And I wish I was at least a bit as strong as him. Between Doflamingo, Law's traumas, fears and putting up a confident front when he feels anything but that, smirking at those who lose to their own arrogance, I'm really amazed he is as strong as he is. And it's not just about him never giving up, because of course he has moments like that, but he always, always gets back up and it's probably never for himself, but for others that are dear to him.

And there's also his resemblance to Ace (and Sabo) somehow, because they're inevitably all older brother types. But while Ace is rough around the edges but his love is so warm, Sabo's soft and supportive but is also a bit self-centered, Law's something else entirely. He's just so avoidant, but at the same time kinda soothing and gently watching from afar, like the moon, you don't usually see it in the day but you know it's always there. That's his kind of love. It's captivating, but it doesn't exactly warm me up when I think about it like when I think of Ace, it doesn't make me feel the fluff like when I think of Sabo, but instead it's like a strong, tingling light that shines not in the sky but inside the heart, when you need it the most: in the middle of utter darkness.

His loyal love to Cora-san, his unobvious but gentle ways of showing affection, his good heart, his sharp smiles and unyielding spirit, reckless and petty paybacks, his shitty and brooding attitude, his serious but trolling sense of humour, I definitely like all of this about him. And sometimes he's just simply insufferable and I enjoy that about him as well. Every time I discover a new thing or detail about him, I like him only more.

[j2zara]

for the ask game!! 📚 💭 👖

Sorry these took all day i've been out and Tired as hell but thank u!

📚 Do you read your own fic?

I try to not feel embarrassed that the answer is yeah bc like I think if other ppl reread their own work it would make sense!!!! Like I would not judge at all and honestly co-sign rereading ur own shit. I literally tell ppl that the reason I write is bc like. It’s basically the chance to craft your own perfectly tailored special interest to share with others. So like. Why wouldn’t I like it? (And this was especially true when I was trying to write original stuff which is why it’s so frustrating I never finish anything. But also a little true now too. This whole weird cloneverse was the product of my dumb thought experiment “what if the clones were people who had the capacity to be just as tragic as Jace). It’s got everything I like in it. I try to tell myself anyway. In practice it’s like. Argh.I kinda go through periods where I like. And this is usually after I JUST posted. Wanna do other things but end up distracting myself by rereading the thing I just made over and over. And then I forget it exists and often in my mind it’s like. Oh I don’t wanna read that i think bc I have residual feelings of like. Idk embarrassment I guess? Like I convince myself it’s old and probably bad but sometimes when I’m glancing at old things I write for. Refresher purposes (usually on cloneverse lol) I end up getting suckered back into rereading it like oh hey is this actually. Good?

Anything older I mostly haven’t looked at in a while bc idk. I’m very hard on my old self. I did reread my Reddie sky high au thing and went. Hm this is actually fun I like this. Most of my IT stuff is like. Ok I think? This is kinda related but I JUST got a comment on a talent swap I wrote for DR and I literally haven’t updated the thing since 2018 and I feel so bad for abandoning it but. Part of it is bc I think if I were to come back to it I would wanna redo some of the old chapters and I feel so pained looking at the early chapters. I keep telling myself I’ll get to it. My Mukuro and Hiro proxy sibling agenda deserves it, they deserve to be best friends so bad, I’m sad I abandoned them. 

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

This is such a funny question bc I’m such a goddamn blabbermouth so I feel pretty confident that I’ve already posted so much cringe abt the headcanons for cloneverse. Like. Technically J3’s personality started as a headcanon in that i was like “oh, Porter was flirting with J3 the entire time he was falling in love with J2”. 99% of the time if i feel compelled to say it i will just say it? Actually you know what? I just thought of one that might be kinda schmaltzy and i feel bad for not saying its a 100% certainty but in my heart Ankarna grants all the clones some form of true life but it would probably be some fucked genie deal where its like there’s a reincarnation au or something. Like they have to find each other again or something. Very Hadestown Orphydice anybody got a match coded. Genuinely b/c J4 wishes she was never Of Jace she gets what she wants and its like good/bad. Bc i can never stop putting the clones in the torment nexus I don’t know if that’s completely stupid

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

I try so hard to be a planner bc I’m so frustrated by my pantser process. Like. Idk i tend to just ride momentum but without foresight you end up going in directions that can be kinda formless and completely wrong and idk. I have such hard time finishing things b/c of this i think. But when I try to plan I’m also so bad at it i don’t think I’ve ever finished a real and true outline before I start. I want to be the kind of person that has clean outlines but. Idk. So by default I guess I’m a plantser bc I do have docs full of notes but my notes are always super messy and like. Idk what I’m doing evolves so much while I work that half the time the notes end up not even accurate to what I’m aiming for. Worst of both worlds life

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Um hi so sorry to bother you but I really love your writing!!

I think your work is very well written and funny and entertaining!

That being said Ive been wanting to write for a while but get too anxious over getting the characters wrong…

You wouldnt happen to have any tips to get over this, would u?

First off, thank you so much for your kind words!

As a disclaimer, I don't know that I'm much qualified to give writing advice. I have dear friends who are Writers with a capital W; at this point I see myself very much as the hobbiest version: Writer Lite if you will. I don't mean to devalue or discredit my own writing; I just mean to say that...I don't feel like I worry about the things a Writer is supposed to worry about, at least at this point. I write what I want, when and how I want to, and I will regularly and cheerfully sacrifice grammar and canon characterization and pacing on the altar of my own whims.

And tbh, if you're looking at starting out in fanfic specifically, that's probably a good place to start. The stakes are really low so it's a great space to get comfortable. No one is paying you. You don't owe anyone anything. Some people will like your characterizations and style, and other people won't. And (assuming you're a Yuumori fan because you mentioned my writing), the Yuumori fandom is a GREAT place to test the waters, because while the fandom is small and there's never a huge amount of engagement, it's a really polite fandom. Basically everyone here understands the principle of "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

Anywho, practically speaking: I really like to try to vary characters' voices a bit. Sherlock gets his incredibly-irritating-to-write attempt at a Cockney accent. William and Albert are posh but get to swear sometimes because I think it's funny. Moran is just kind of casual; somewhere between the Moriartys and Sherlock. And so on.

If you're trying to stick really closely to canon characterizations, doing some rereading/watching of the source material before you start can definitely help. But it's also worth noting that sometimes fandom has its own interpretation that's widespread but not really sourced from canon. Can any of us prove canonically that Albert Moriarty is bisexual, promiscuous, and a little bit masochistic? Not in the slightest! And yet for some reason a significant portion of us have just gone "yeah that sounds right," and you'll never get shot down for writing him that way. So there's definitely a lot of space to just have fun with it (though acknowledging in your tags/author's notes that something is OOC can help lol.)

Then of course it's just...just do it! Have fun! Make playlists to write to if you're anything like me! Fall down Google rabbit holes researching what Victorians ate for breakfast! Pretend to be confident but not arrogant (I admit, I will sometimes scroll by things where the author is self-deprecating in the summary: it kind of feels like clicking there is agreeing to do some emotional labour, which is usually part of what I'm trying to escape via fic. 😅) Engage with your chosen fandom, and you'll start to see those group-workshopped headcanons that we enjoy reading about just as much as actual canon characterizations; you'll also make friends that way who will be excited to read your fics!

I hope you have so much fun writing! 😊

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Sending hugs always!

42.  How do you feel about love triangles?

43.  What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?

44.  How much research do you do?

45.  How much world building do you do?

46.  Do you reread your own stories?

47.  Best way to procrastinate

48.  What’s the most self-insert character/scene you’ve ever written?

49.  Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?

Please and thank you!

Hello again!! (From this writing ask game)

42.  How do you feel about love triangles?

I'm not the kind of person who finds a single trope unredeemable. Generally speaking, I don't like love triangles that much. However, that does not mean they can't be done well, or well written. It usually has less to do with the trope itself and how a lot of people execute it.

I feel like they work better when it's less of the "Hot Boy A and Hot Boy B oh no which should I choose???" thing everyone got tired of. Especially when there is a rivalry going on between A and B.

Sometimes it's done where it feels more authentic, of liking two people. Or maybe they're love interests at different times.

Idk I'm not gonna be turned off of something if it has a love triangle but it is hard (not impossible) to find one where I'm not at least a little annoyed.

43.  What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?

I change the outline! I need an outline to function so I know what to write, but I'm always happy whenever the characters go off on their own because it usually results in me changing the outline for the better. I love figuring things out or things falling into place. Also, it usually happens when I'm becoming less confident in a plotline and wondering how I'm gonna make it work, then the characters go off and do something else and I'm like "ohhhhh that's how I fix it!"

44.  How much research do you do?

As much as I need, but I mainly do it as I go. A character experiences something I've never experienced? Ok time to look that up. A character is interested in something I'm not? Ok time to look that up.

A couple things related to world building for example. Like I'm trying to science superpowers so I need to look up how to science superpowers, especially since a lot of people have figured it out already.

45.  How much world building do you do?

As much as I need to and maybe some more because I don't think everything can make it in. For TSP the answer is a lot.

I'm now working on the power database of my world Alium because I need the foundational work to even explain it. It's a little vague right now, and I want it to be less vague and arbitrary. It must make sense, and I'm making it make sense. But it is taking FOREVER. I'm having fun though.

I do need to work more on world building in general after this even. A lot of stuff I have is a little vague because I've only done stuff as needed. But a lot of things are becoming needed. Sigh. Anyways. I'm figuring it out.

46.  Do you reread your own stories?

All the time. I have some good stuff! Also, I like rereading stuff that I wrote a long time ago to see what ideas I had I can recycle, but also to see how much I've grown as a writer.

TSP isn't exactly something I can reread because I'm working so much on it, but SOTL I have reread, and same for older Drafts of TSP. Haven't reread Draft Four. I probably should at some point, it's just long.

However I tried to read the MCU fanfic I wrote when I was fifteen and I couldn't make it through. It was painful. Maybe some day.

47.  Best way to procrastinate

Tumblr. Obviously.

But to be fair the amount of tag games and asks I get is actually allowing me to explore stuff I never considered, so the procrastinating is actually quite helpful.

48.  What’s the most self-insert character/scene you’ve ever written?

Oh god.

The most self-insert character was Draft Four Lexi or Anahi from an older version of SOTL.

Scene? Back in my MCU obsession days I got into an argument with a boy who claimed I only liked the MCU for the hot guys and was surprised when I had like...non-stereotypical fifteen year old girl opinions (as in, I wasn't straight) and I wrote that into TSP. It's gone now thank God.

49.  Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?

I love my OCs I have to pick one???

I want Robbie and Akash to be my friends because they're just so much fun! They make me laugh and I love them. I know that I had to pick one but these two are a package set.

Thanks so much for the asks! This was fun!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

[lorcaswhisky]

🌿🎀🍭

(for the fic writer asks, please)

Ooh, thank you, @curator-on-ao3 ! These are fabulous questions.

🌿 how does creating make you feel?

Like a deity who left the intern in charge for the day. Simultaneously all-powerful and completely clueless. I can make the characters do *anything*! Wait, I can make them do *anything*?

(But also, can I be honest? Over the last 6 months or so of grappling with my writing, the answer has mostly been - frustrated. It's been like scraping every single letter out of concrete with a plastic spoon. I know exactly what happened: my real-life job got very toxic, very suddenly, last year, and although I'm out of it now and in a job I really love, the damage done to my confidence is taking time to heal. Reading back over the last few chapters and my notes for the final two installments with a clearer head and the benefit of distance, I can *see* that loss of confidence on the page - I'm over-explaining, over-complicating, all the time, bouncing around ideas without committing fully to them. Now that I'm safely in a better place, I've been recharging my creative cells now and working on being gentler with myself, and the words - and the joy - are slowly starting to come back, but it's been a slog to even get to this point.)

🎀 give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Usually I'd shuffle and dodge this question by mumbling something about being good at creating characters who feel like individuals. While that's true, I think, as part of Operation Rediscover My Confidence and Love of Writing (note to self: needs a snappier name), I've been rereading my work and I now have a new answer! I think I'm good at taking risks. I wrote a detective fic in space - something I'd never tried before - in which the answer to the mystery the central character is trying to solve is one everyone reading will know because they've *watched the show*, and it *works*. And then I took that story and wrote a sequel in a completely different style, another one I'd never tried before, and wrote a spy thriller slow burn romance in space between two characters who will likely never, ever meet in canon, and it *works*. I write plotty fics with ice cream and terrible heists and wonky robots and secret societies and telepathic gastropods and, for some reason, Harry fucking Mudd, and it *works*. Not without a lot of effort, and not without a lot of drafts that will never see the light of day, but it works. So, yeah. I take risks. I write weird shit, and I love that about my writing.

🍭 why did you start writing?

Because sometimes, just sometimes, I had ideas that made my brain itchy. And the only way to scratch that itch was to pour them out on paper.

[daz4i]

Honestly I'm with you that it is pretty hard not to get jealous whenever a fic gets suuuuper popular like that. Like when they write a fic, they get an entire fan base and waves upon waves of fanart; when I write a fic I get like three single sentence comments and one person listing every single thing wrong with it.

I know they don't decide to have that happen but like... What am I doing wrong? I'm trying my absolute best, I'm rereading and rewriting like ten times to make sure it's as perfect as it could possibly be, but no matter what I try, nothing works. Meanwhile they're like "yeah sorry wasn't feeling too well lately so this chapters not as good" and they get hundreds of comments, playlists for the their fic and a whole gallery worth of fan art.

Maybe I'm just bitter but it really does just crush your motivation and self esteem after a while.

this is an understandable reaction tbh 😔

for what it's worth, i don't think you're doing anything wrong. i can't say for sure bc none of my fics ever reached wild popularity or smth but i assume in their case it's a combination of

popular ship in an already popular fandom (also, gen usually doesn't catch on unless you're VERY lucky)

existing following. i noticed a lot of popular fic writers usually have a bunch of followers from stuff like art already

luck. ofc

common tropes. easily digestible stuff that is kind of familiar

length and consistent long term updates usually help (like, spreading it out as multiple updates keeps you at the top of tags when ppl click them)

this isn't for all of them. but like. one thing i noticed. and i mean this nicely. is smth i wanna call wattpad-style writing? kind of an underlying edgy vibe like more swears and ppl reacting to things in kind of extreme ways at times. every most-popular-fic-in-the-fandom i read fit that description, so. (i assume it's bc a big part of any fandom is teenagers, and this, well, fits a teen mindset)

if you don't wanna fall into common tropes and stick only to popular ships, it's better to stick to writing for fun, as hard as it is sometimes with no external validation 😔

i see why this would be very discouraging. i think ik who you are off-anon, and if I'm right then i saw comments you got on fics before, and yeah i would definitely get discouraged by these too

i think if you don't gain any joy from writing, it may be good to find an additional hobby, or try a different type of writing for now maybe :? (like if fics aren't working, try original work. or dabble in poetry. or switch up the genres etc. doesn't even have to be a long term thing, just to scratch the creative itch for now, and maybe get inspired to write what you're used to again)

i imagine you're probably tired of hearing that you should write for you and don't have to post it. bc i get wanting to get validation. so instead I'll tell you this is an extremely valid feeling, including the jealousy part. this is a very normal reaction honestly, and i could never blame you for having it

i will say tho! you should channel that feeling somewhere. not for others, but for your own sake. don't let bitterness eat at you or you'll always be miserable, and you deserve better than that :(

finding a new hobby can help with self-esteem (like, for example, baking smth and enjoying how it tastes, and feeling proud of yourself for making smth that tastes good) and is a good way to let out creative energy! it will take time, but maybe slowly you'll be able to lay out building blocks that will eventually make you feel confident enough in your own creation to not need external validation :0!

(ofc, you don't have to listen to any of this. please make sure to go at your own pace as well! either way i hope things turn out well for you, and i thank you for sharing your honest feelings with me!!)

[rainswept]

i’m not really interactive. i like to consume content and move on. it's easier just to get my instant gratification and keep myself from being perceived in any way because it makes me nervous. but even though i don't make use of tumblr’s basic functions, in my mindless haze i still remember feelings, words, and sometimes, urls too.

when i see “rainswept” i think of lyney. i feel like that's self explanatory, via the tag for lyney x reader, i found your blog. to be honest the first few times i came across your work i scrolled past it. wasn't really interested, wanted something shorter. but one morning, i was on the hunt again and actually sat down to read a fic from your account. it took me a while to process it after, and i was very distracted for the rest of the day. weeks later, still thinking about it, the words going from my head to a pit in my stomach that nothing seemed to satisfy. and then, strangely, i found myself looking up “rainswept” more and more often to reread instead of refreshing the daily “lyney x reader”

i dont know what model of brain you have, but it's great

your writing was not the idle comfort i was used to. it hurt to read, but it hurt worse to be without. i wanted to stay with my personal image of a flirty guy who's just that. flirty. easier to digest. i couldn't.

the way you described lyney in the few works i saw took my soft hand and shoved it into a hot fire of angst. longing. fire that rises, but also falls and churns like the sea. wholly consuming in its warpath. it did not let me keep that image of lyney. in fact, the tides of rising flame tore it away from me. burned it. because there's wayy more to be said about him and how he sees the world than who he falls in love with (“curtain call” is my roman empire)

absolutely crazy idea to me at the time. wow, imagine characters having actual feelings??? wtf. to be described so viscerally, picked apart by language and left crumpled amongst the carnage of your own being on a fandom page is to be loved. i want to love the way you do

so, to me, “rainswept” is the url that introduced me to really passionate interpretations of characters i like and the beauty of prose that holds you as if it were a lingering chill on the darkest of nights. i don't think i would be nearly as interested in trying to understand characters for who they are beyond romance without your work.

“rainswept” taught me how to love a character

it could have happened eventually with someone else's blog, but it was yours. through looking at your blog and the things you repost (v fun tags, by the way), i even found others i like too. (wow, it's almost like i’m discovering how the internet works!!!) you've indirectly taught me how to appreciate nuances in writing. now, i can proudly say my taste has definitely developed away from the 2018 wattpad era

that's pretty cool. character development for me i guess? i still have a long way to go before i can understand everything in my own way, but i’m learning. today was another one of those days where your url came to mind, it's been a while. i was more than happy to follow my whim

anyways! that's all, just thought i'd share. it's my first time sending an ask (´;︵;`) i had a lot to say, and i think i still have a lot to say, but i’m sure you know the difficulties of putting feelings into words. i wanted to make sure i expressed what i could before i lost the confidence to say anything at all

thank you for sharing your writing and silly thoughts, tumblr user rainswept

P.S. i would be sad if rain actually sweeps you off your feet, which is why i also offer an umbrella—in case the weather ever becomes too harsh. be safe, dude ☂️

long post i’m putting it under a read more

what in the WORLD anon. PH:WIYbpiHWbpi,HIDDNFLWUIEBFLIHABCKUGASVCKHVSEKUHBRWLUHBGW J,H?/?/?//

GOOD LORD i think something in me literally shattered with this ask. i am SHAKing TREMBLING EVEN i cannog even get a full BREAATH in i;m LOSING MY MIND

this ask is literally the reason i made my blog. the reason i ever posted to begin with. my writing ever being seen like this was my ultimate goal. if there was anything i’ve ever wanted it was this. to move people, to change their minds, to get them to see things beyond their outward appearances — and i guess i’ve achieved that because. oh my god.

i don’t know how to do this ask justice anon. i saw it and if i was standing i think i would have fallen over. you say my prose is beautiful yet yours left me breathless. seriously, not just because it being directed towards me meant so much but also just the quality of it. i understand not wanting to present yourself publicly on tumblr, but i think you are an amazing writer and if you ever did i’d be your first follower. i would read all of the writing of yours i could get my hands on. so if you have ever had any inkling to do that, do it. you only live once (and i’d go feral for it)

speaking of writing. aside from just writing because i want to, my whole mission of sorts on here is to change how people view characters. i know i can’t alter everyone’s perception — if they think someone like lyney is just flirty snd nothing more, they’re usually going to continue thinking that — but to know that i’ve had even one person change their mind on even one character is .. astounding. not even to mention changing how someone views characters as a whole? indirectly causing someone to look deeper into them, to analyze them closer, to pick them apart like you said, to feel more when reading about them? that’s absolutely insane (positive). i will never be the same after this actually.

i write to feel, and i write to make others feel, even emotions i or they may not want to. i like digging deep into characters, into pain and sadness, because i’ve always noticed that stories that hurt stay with me longer. they make me think and think and i keep going back to them. and they may not make me feel better, but i like it anyway because, to me, what is the point of reading if it isn’t going to stick with you? what is the point of feeling if, as soon as you pry your eyes away from the pages, the emotion fades with the ink?

to know that you kept thinking about my writing, then kept coming back, and that i altered the way you view characters is. crazy to me. absolutely crazy. despite desiring it so deeply, i never thought i’d have that effect on someone else.

maybe i changed how you view characters and writing, but you continue to give me the motivation to continue doing so. and actually both are so valuable to me. to know i have moved someone enough for them to send an ask like this. i don’t know how to put into words how much this,,, affected me?? i could honestly die peacefully right now. like this is all i’ve ever wanted.

“i want to love the way you do” i think you do. i think you have. i think to send an ask like this it may take more of it. this may have not been your intent or expected outcome but this has genuinely moved me. so so much.

“rainswept taught me how to love a character” oh my GOD.

i’m so glad you did have the courage to send this, because it means more to me than you know. i will cherish this forever. i’m so honored, both that what you wanted to say to me overpowered the fear of sending an ask and the fact that you even had these words to say to me to begin with. i get what it’s like to be afraid when it comes to reaching out, but know you will always be welcome here, whether it’s heartfelt words or genuinely anything. if you do have more to say, ever, i will absolutely welcome it with open arms

it takes a lot to reach out like this, but just know this is the most valuable interaction i think i have ever had on tumblr. if this doesn’t stick with me for life i think it’ll be safe to say i’ve lost all my memories. maybe i’m being dramatic, but i want you to know the extent that this has changed me (it’s fundamentally).

i don’t know how to say thank you for this. i think this will singlehandedly carry my motivation and will to keep creating for the rest of my life. i think i will keep writing because of it (and because of you, to know you are out there and once continued to return, even if i leave tumblr, even if you no longer do). to know someone out there was genuinely moved by what i also was is the greatest motivation i could ever dream of. whoever you are, i love you.

i was going to copy and paste some things you said and comment on them in particular, but i could literally do that to the entire ask. but i hope you know i will likely continue to reread every single word of this ask over and over until i can recite it because oh my god i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life

“curtain call is my roman empire” anon THIS is my roman empire 😭

this is so so all over the place because it made me so emotional LMAO i am so sorry. i don’t know how to summarize all i want to say, or go over everything you have said, but just know that i will keep every single word of this close to my heart and cherish it like i probably never have anything else.

thank you for everything. including the umbrella — rain doesn’t usually sweep me off my feet, but this ask did so i’ll use it for that instead.

[livingasaghost]

haven't written one of these in a long time but it feels like i should

i'm trying not to be too optimistic because we have a long road ahead of us but i opened up my manuscript last week for the first time in like....a year? it's been quietly sitting on my hard drive while i've worked through a million different crises the last few years and even though i haven't done more than reread it, i felt the Itch. a lot of that comes down to tour starting and feeling inspired by taylor once again (thank god for that woman) but it's something.

i found another indie author on instagram today that kind of gave me that feeling i felt when i found olivie blake (hi olive <3) a few years ago — that sometimes it's okay to just be an indie author and traditional publishing doesn't have to be the be all end all. and like yeah, i'd love to get picked up by traditional publishing and a cool agent, but so much of my fear about editing is That. that i'm not good enough, that i AM good enough and then i have to keep writing after this book is done, that there will be more work in this that just another edit.

i was so driven for most of 2020 and 2021 and then my entire life got ripped apart and remixed and only now two years later do i finally feel like i'm stepping back into myself. i started therapy again and in preparation for that i was reflecting on all the shit that's happened in the last two years and there was a comment i made to myself about how meeting EJ gave me the space to become my own person again post-lockdown and for a long time i thought that meant a New me that wasn't at all like the old me...i thought that i was giving up the old pieces of myself because they no longer fit or they hurt too much or i didn't know how to be who i used to be...but in the last month or so i really feel like i'm returning to the old me (taylor fan, reader, writer, TV binger, artist) while also honoring the new me (climber, cook, emotionally stable lol). i can't explain it but the old light that died in me at the coffeeshop is coming back stronger now.

and now that i'm (hopefully) moving (!!!!!!!) into my own place (AFJHSDK) i think i'm another step closer to that version of myself i've been chasing. which is to say, i'm having grace with myself and remembering all the old things i used to love doing and i feel like very very soon i will be in a safe space where i can finally explore who i'm meant to be. and while i'm terrified of living alone (for the financial reasons obviously) i also have to remember all the benefits of that terrifying prospect. that i'll have the space to be myself. and that peace will lead me to so many wonderful places i don't even know yet.

i'm still not sure when the writing will return to me...in rereading my manuscript i feel like i spend half the time going "NO NOTES!" and the other half going "this is the most cringe, most terrible writing i've ever seen fix all of it please!" it's intimidating and i'm no longer confident in myself like i once was, but now that i feel like i have no deadline and i'm sinking into the idea of a self-published book i'm a little more at peace with it. like i feel like when i do get back to it and start sitting in coffeeshops on the weekends, i will have the space to fully explore this story one more time and put the new pieces of myself inside it.

it's weird because another reason i was so scared of this story is that when i was last editing it i was deep in the trenches of 2021. i intertwined so many people and experiences from that season of my life into the manuscript and it almost feels like i'm just reading about ghosts now. but it's also the ghosts of lockdown and the ghosts of my early twenties and the ghosts of rep tour and the ghosts of all the people i hoped i'd be by now. it's a book about a 21 year old but somehow at 27 this story is more relatable to me than it has ever been before. i am writing my own story that doesn't have a happy ending yet and i think since i don't have the answers it feels like i can't explore that on the page. if i can't offer hope or the promise of a happy ending then does that story deserve to be told? (yes)

i thought i had given up on books and then something changed (as it always does) and i found my way back. i always do. and i always find my way back to writing too. it's just so hard to see life as a string of seasons and cycles when it feels like every second is the start and the end. there is space to grow and change and come back and return and revisit and leave things behind. there is enough time. and sometimes your time is best spent falling back in love with your life. i've spent the past few weekends feeling a little useless - sitting around, resting, not doing much of anything - and even though i can't keep doing that forever, i has forced me to get back in touch with what i want and who i am. sitting in my room with all my books and my cameras and my cool decor centers me, it gives me a reason to keep on living.

i truly don't know where i'm going this year. i have some ideas, some hopes and dreams, but i have resigned myself to "fixing" my every day. to focus on where i am, to make my day to day better and spend less time traveling. and while that would've scared me a few years ago before a global pandemic, i think now it's like a promise to myself. a promise that i am worth investing in and that i can get better and that even if i don't get better, right now is good enough. i had so many dreams for this time of my life that didn't come true and for a while i grieving them pretty hard. and then i set myself free from those dreams and i thought i'd never see them again...but that's not true at all is it? the things that love us, the things that we love never truly leave us after all, they always come back.

also i finally had a vision for the WIP book cover and even though it might change if i ever hit that point...it gave me a little push that sounded like "keep going" <3

[ginisbetterthanfirewhisky]

Thank you so much for tagging me! ❤️

What are you most proud of your writing right now?

I am really proud of my OotP missing moment that I haven't published yet. I am content just staring at my computer screen and admiring the words.

What is your process for going about writing a new chapter?

Sometimes I have these spontaneous ideas in the middle of the night that I have to write down in my journal immediately, while other times I stare at my screen for a long time searching for something to write. I can't sit down for a long time simply to write anymore because I've just started med school and there's too much to do

Describe your editing process.

I don't use tools like Grammarly as I'm scared of privacy issues, but I read through my fic at least once before posting, imagining myself as a neutral reader and try to decide if I'd like the fic if I hadn't written it. In doing so, I usually catch a few grammatical errors and continuity issues here and there. I started writing fanfiction at fourteen, and I like to think I've improved since then.

Is there a character’s voice that you struggle with? What about one you find easy to write?

Luna. I hate writing her. She's so complicated as a character. The same goes with Snape and Dumbledore. I have to try hard to make sure they don't end up as caricatures. English isn't my first (or even my second) language, so writing Hagrid's accent is a bit difficult for me.

I love writing Hermione. She's the character I relate to the most. so her voice comes naturally to me. Since the books are in Harry's perspective, it's easy to capture his voice too.

Where you do find yourself “hung up” while writing?

Most of the fanfic ideas I get are not very detailed. They're centrered around some major plot point and there are a lot of fillers before I can reach at that point.

I also have a point with scene changing, it always seems off to me whenever I reread my work. Again, most conversations I have irl are not in English, so I need to make a conscious effort to ensure that my dialogue flows naturally and is not stuffy and formal and all Percy-ish.

What methods do you use to get out of “hang ups” while writing?

I just re-read some of my published and unpublished chapters and try to gain some confidence.

What piece of advice did you hear/read recently that’s been helping you to improve your writing?

@iloveyou-writers posts such wholesome advice! Their advice about writing for yourself have been really helpful! I have not completed a single multi-chaptered story so far, and I haven't written anything in months, but it's okay because I am writing for my own pleasure, not out of a compulsion.

What do you feel that you are naturally talented with in terms of creative writing?

I think I have a good vocabulary and don't struggle much with grammar. I am also good with making sure my characterisations align well with canon.

Do you have any personal pet peeves about your writing that you’re working to change?

I'm very bad at transition scenes and I'm trying to change that.

Who/what is your greatest inspiration for your current story?

I recently heard a beautiful song on the radio titled "Maana ke Hum Yaar Nahi" (I admit that we are not friends). The lyrics are really lovely, and they inspired me to write 'If Only'.

Do you have anything you are self-conscious about in your writing?

I read other authors' work, and I feel extremely inadequate about my own writing. I am not a very good storyteller, and I'm not particularly creative either. Emotional scenes and conversations are not my strong suit.

Is there something you wish readers would pick up on more in your stories?

I put a lot of work into mental monologues, so I'd love it if someone picks up the unsaid significance of certain thoughts and actions. I'm not particularly witty, but I try to add a few lines here and there that make me laugh, and it would really make my day if those little throwaway lines make someone else smile too!

Where are you currently at in your writing mindset? Frustrated? Excited? Focused? Other?

I've currently taken an indefinite break from writing since I have to focus on medical school, but I try to write whenever I'm free. It is a great de-stress method, even when I don't post my work.

Are there emotions that come to you easily while writing? Or ones that are difficult for you to describe?

Unrequited Love. LOL. I think I'm very good at describing it. Years of scrolling through gloomy pinterest pages filled with unrequited love quotes kind of does that to you.

I'm not very good at describing grief or trauma. I see authors handling such topics so well and I am always awed by them.

Who is another author (fanfic or otherwise) that you admire? Why?

SO MANY. Literally every Harry Potter fanfiction I have read has tremendously inspired me. The first author whose work motivated by was @floreatcastellumposts , with her amazing way with words and her perfect characterisations.

I've always been a fan of how J.K. Rowling can create an entire universe from scratch, and all these three dimensional characters with their own talents and flaws. I also love Jane Austen, Georgette Heyer, Agatha Christie, and Stephen King's work.

All my favourites have already been tagged, but I was wondering if @honeydukesheroine has answered this too? I'd love to know more about their writing process!

Writer's Asks 🖌️

Because I'm skirting my responsibilities and nosy. I've been having a lot of chats with other writers recently, and curious to hear more about their writing processes!

What are you most proud of your writing right now?

Is there something you're specifically working on to improve your writing?

What is your process for going about writing a new chapter?

Describe your editing process.

Is there a character's voice that you struggle with? What about one you find easy to write?

Where you do find yourself "hung up" while writing?

What methods do you use to get out of "hang ups" while writing?

What piece of advice did you hear/read recently that's been helping you to improve your writing?

What do you feel that you are naturally talented with in terms of creative writing?

Do you have any personal pet peeves about your writing that you're working to change?

How do you plan out your story writing process? For chapters and/or the entire story?

Who/what is your greatest inspiration for your current story?

Do you have anything you are self-conscious about in your writing?

Is there something you wish readers would pick up on more in your stories?

Talk to me about how you go about word choice. Do you have an example of your writing that you're particularly proud of clever word choice?

Where are you currently at in your writing mindset? Frustrated? Excited? Focused? Other?

How do you use reading material to help you with your own writing?

Are there emotions that come to you easily while writing? Or ones that are difficult for you to describe?

Who is another author (fanfic or otherwise) that you admire? Why?

When do you get most of your ideas and inspiration for writing?

Reblog if you'd like to participate and tag some friends!

@fizzyginfizz @curse-04 @ginnyw-potter @rmwb-fanfics @deadwoodpecker @turanga4 @greenhousethree @welsh-green @four2andnew @ginisbetterthanfirewhisky @seriouslysam8 @ritualoflovesmemory

[chil2de]

How are you today? If its alright with you, can I request a Atsumu x fem reader where she has a super tomboy style and ALWAYS wears baggy clothes, but one day atsumu comes over to hang out and the only outfit she has left is kinda a tight fitting shirt and for the first time ever Atsumu realizes just how curvy his girlfriend is

sorry if thats to specific! feel free to ignorethis!

warning - miya atsumu x reader

hiii! i’m doing okay anonie, thank you and i hope u are faring well!!! so um this ended up being a LOT longer than i expected pls forgive me it was supposed to be a cute lil drabble but now its like uh 2k words aJdhfhhd, i really loved this idea!!! don’t worry ab it being too specific i actually like that and it helps give me a general idea about the req

well whilst this isn’t tooooo nsfw there are a few small themes in the beginning + swearing since i write atsumu like that and implications of sexual content ig at the end but aside from that? just some fluff for our fav king. characters are aged up and i am unsure how it would work but call it anime logic and enjoy! thanks for requesting! (okay rereading the ending is lowkey smut why am i like this)

“b-cup.” atsumu huffed with confidence. he took a large swig out of his water bottle, nodding his head wisely in affirmation.

“really? i’d say c-cup.” suna chimed in, his half-lidded gaze narrowing.

“nah, it’s b-cup”

“what the hell are you two talking about?” osamu interjected, concern and disgust thick on his features as he came over carrying a few towels.

“(y/n)’s bra size” suna nonchalantly responded, his eyes flicking up for a few seconds as he accepted the towel from osamu.

“‘tsumu i knew you were messed in the head but, suna? have you caught his germs?”

“fuck are you making it sound like i have some viral disease?”

“you don’t?” suna snorted, plopping down onto the floor to sit cross-legged.

“why don’t you just ask her?” osamu’s gaze flickered onto yours from across the court. you felt your ears burn from the way the three of them were staring at you.

was something on your face?

a bug? dirt?

“huh? like i’m supposed to say, hey baby girl, what size are your tits?”

“i’m still saying b-cup”

“c-cup”

“i think b-cup” osamu joined in, watching atsumu screw his face at him

“you goddamn hypocrite-“ “who’s being a hypocrite?” kita inquired with a half-hushed tone, making his way over with a few protein bars

“oh my god i’m going home” atsumu groaned, resting his palms on his knees as he stood up. he beelined towards you, his exhaustion painted his lazy smile beautifully. he still had the energy to turn around over his shoulder and flip his middle finger up at his team whilst his right hand snaked around to your waist.

somewhere around your waist. it took him a little bit of digging through all the fabric.

it didn’t matter to him, though. as much of a jackass as he might’ve been, he never judged you for the way you dressed. even if it meant that sometimes you looked a lil bit homeless, at the end of the day- he still had that glimmer in his eyes whenever he saw you.

you would be his favourite baby girl, no matter what.

“is that my shirt you’re wearing?” he hummed, glancing down to look at it.

it was, in fact, one of his shirts. it was matte black in colour, with a small dip that would showcase atsumu’s collar bones. it was a little bit faded from the many wash cycles it endured throughout its lifetime, but he would always notice the small tear in the bottom right section of the fabric.

“sorryyy, i know you just washed it but it smelled so nice. also, wow, did you put on deodorant? you actually smell like a man it’s kinda creepy”

“i always put on deodorant you dipshit, you’re always crying about how pretty my face looks so your nose doesn’t pick up the scent. it’s verbena citrus, buy your own because i know you’ll try stealing mine so i’m putting a padlock on that shit.” atsumu scoffed, digging his fingers into your sides to tickle you as you walked. you squirmed, swatting him away as you dug your hands into the pockets of your joggers. they were not atsumu’s, unfortunately, for you found out the hard way that you would literally have to drag the excess fabric behind you like some train dress or bundle it up and fold it, which, in retrospect- did not look too aesthetically pleasing. you settled for your own joggers and favourite high-top sneakers to match.

“you know you’ll say all this but give me your deodorant anyway, right?” you stuck your tongue out at him. he rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair.

“hey.” he called out, causing you to direct your attention towards him.

he nudged your arm with his elbow.

oh.

“give it here.”

you uncurled your left hand out of your pocket, zipping it up to make sure the contents inside didn’t spill. atsumu slid his right hand away from your waist and opened his palm up, intertwining his fingertips between yours into a tight lock. he grazed his thumb over the back of your hand, giving you a small squeeze.

“that was the cheesiest and most corniest thing you’ve done and i hated it” you made a mock gagging sound, averting your gaze.

you could feel the blush fresh on your cheeks, heart pounding in your chest like it was about to explode.

“wait, you thought i was holding your hand because we’re dating? i’m just doing it because i know your dumbass would get lost” atsumu snorted, throwing his head back in laughter.

well,

you could still see the light blush tinting his cheeks. and it wasn’t the sunset.

“mmm, should i wear this one- wait-“ you grabbed the shirt, folding it upwards as you took a small whiff. well,, you did wear it yesterday… yeah, you did put it in the laundry basket,,, no, it didn’t smell toooo bad, but..

you groaned, tossing it back into said basket as you furrowed your brows in concentration.

you heard the doorbell ring which only caused you to panic even further. you just needed a shirt. literally any shirt. you were about to cut your freaking pants out and sew them together to another pair for a shirt.

since it was a friday, you had atsumu walk you halfway home. you only lived a street away from him, and the apartment was conveniently built on a fork between the road down to his house and the supermarket. hence, he dropped you off and went to the store all by himself like a responsible adult to grab some snacks for the weekend.

“it’s open!” you called out, leaning your jaw back as you shouted in hopes for your voice to travel further.

in that moment, just in the corner of your eye- you saw a familiar flash of black.

you swooped the fabric up, quietly humming in pleasure when it smelled like laundry detergent and fabric softener.

you lifted the shirt over your head, struggling to pull it down for a few seconds.

you admired yourself briefly in the mirror.

it was a casual t-shirt. it reached down to the middle portion of your arms, though it was significantly less baggy than all of your other clothes. you liked to sleep in it during hot and stuffy summer nights, but rarely found yourself using it otherwise.

it’s not like you didn’t like these kinds of shirts.

but when given the option to look “stylish” or comfortable, who wouldn’t pick comfortable? that’s what was important to you above all. clothes that made you feel like you were constantly in bed were a godsend from the heavens.

“hey dipshit, i spent twenty minutes jumping stores for you but no one sold any (favourite drink) so i got you-“ atsumu halted in his steps, the grocery bags curled around his fists were suddenly forgotten and discarded as he caught sight of you through the doorframe.

you were clad in a pair of old white shorts and a black t-shirt, complimentary of the fact that everything else was currently in the laundry machine. atsumu could outline every single damn crevice and dip on you, and he burned that shit so deep into his retinas that he would still see it when his eyes were closed.

he felt his breath hitch, something deep inside him resonating, growing feral like hunger.

he still stood by what he said,

baggy clothes or not, you were beautiful.

but he wasn’t expecting this

“so you bought what?” you inquired, twisting your torso halfway to greet him as you finished brushing through some knots in your hair at the vanity.

“huh?”

“you said there wasn’t any (favourite drink) so you got what? did you fall and crack your head open on the way here? cause it looks like it”

you could feel your heart squeeze, body temperature increased twofold as icy hot waves wracked every inch of your skin. there was a cold sweat that rolled down the back of your knees.

“shut the hell up, i hate you” atsumu grumbled, forcing himself to turn away from you and stomp off to the kitchen with a pout.

“jesus christ give me strength i hate this woman, where the hell does she get off thinking she can get away with looking so good like that” atsumu mumbled incoherent curses underneath his breath, shakily unloading everything he bought out onto the counter and stuffing the groceries into cabinets and the fridge.

“‘samu, i hate you but dude i need twin telepathy, give me strength so i don’t deck this woman right here right now” he cursed, gritting his teeth. his self-control was about to fly out the window.

“you okay?” you popped your head through the door, leaning into the kitchen.

he could see the outline of your prominent collarbones, the way the shirt still fell a little bit and hung loosely off of your frame. he could see the start of your stomach.

god, it should’ve been illegal the way he wanted to grab your thighs. he wondered for a second what it would look like with his fingerprints etched into your skin there.

“want a few tissues and some lotion?” you snorted, nestling up beside him to help. you gazed at him, watching him keep his eyes narrowed on the packet of pistachios he was fumbling with.

you thought it was cute.

“listen- if you’re not ready yet then i’d suggest that you find something else to wear cause holy shit if you don’t get away from me right now i swear i will not restrain myself-“

“i’m ready” you hummed, giving him an innocent smile. you toyed with your hands behind your back, fiddling with them as butterflies swept your abdomen.

atsumu snorted, eyebrows creasing in confusion. he turned to face you, setting the pistachios down.

“alright i’m not saying this to boost my ego, but, what did you say?”

“i said i’m ready”

you watched his brain stir, gears ticking and turning like clockwork.

atsumu let out a low sigh.

“yeah, yeah. well, then.”

his right hand slammed against the wall, caging you in. he leaned into you, looming over you as his half-lidded eyes burned holes inside your soul. you felt the air tense and switch around him, carnal desires swirling behind his gaze. his chest was so close to yours, practically flush, save for the tiniest gap. you could literally feel his heart hammering.

he was so invasive, so close, yet so respectful. he still kept his distance, just n case you changed your mind.

“are you sure this is what you want?” his voice was hot and slick against the shell of your ear, voice husky and octaves deeper. you could feel the sexual tension dripping from him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against him.

“i’m sure, ‘tsumu.”

a loud chuckle ripped from the depths of his chest. it was so hearty, and fuck, it made you clench.

atsumu swooped you up all in one swift motion, hands hooking underneath your thighs as he shoved you against the counter. he sent everything clattering and thudding in the process.

“don’t say i didn’t warn you, doll.”

[schmergo]

I’m gonna get a little more serious and personal than I usually am on social media here for a sec, so sorry if this is annoying. Anyway, I never had an actual eating disorder, but, like many young people, I struggled on and off with somewhat disordered eating habits and negative body image for many years. 

Between ages 9 and 20, every year or two, I would suddenly get into a groove of weird restrictive behaviors around food, either because I felt like my life wasn’t going well enough and I needed to be punished, or because I felt like my life was going too well and that I wasn’t pretty enough to deserve it. I would stop for a year or two, and then when it came back, I’d be even more strict with myself.

 For example, for a year in elementary school, I only let myself eat yogurt for lunch, not because I particularly liked yogurt but because I Decreed It Must Be So. For a year in high school, I would throw out my lunch every day and go to the library during lunch time, on the excuse that “you aren’t allowed to have food in the library, and I need to do homework.” And while studying in London in college, I would only let myself eat 800 calories a day. I was only allowed sweets on Wednesday, but no actual meals on that day, just the dessert. I used the excuse that I was trying to save money on food, but calorie restriction isn’t the most efficient way to save money. These are just a few examples of some of the little phases I fell into-- I finally stopped after that last one because I felt so awful  when I came home from that semester and had to eat around other people again that I just went, “Never again.” I still don’t have very good body image, but it’s better, and I don’t do strict rules around food anymore.

I never lost much weight or developed health problems from it, and I was always either a healthy weight or slightly overweight, but I know those weren’t very healthy habits to have. But I guess I didn’t realize that even though the behavior itself wasn’t super extreme, the way it was ingrained into my mind was more insidious and deeply-rooted than I thought.

The reason I mention this is that I recently got into a kick of rereading some of my old writing. I did a TON of writing as a teenager and wrote a lot of book-length stories, many of them fanfiction. Most of my work is fairly humorous, light-hearted, and a lot of it falls into the ‘fantasy’ genre. There are darker themes at times, but the endings are usually happy. I was reading a romantic comedy “book” that I wrote in high school and enjoying the blast from the past when I realized something strange about the narration. It’s written in first person, and the heroine/ narrator is written to be a fairly attractive character-- her friends think she’s pretty, she receives a few compliments on her appearance, and she attracts the interest of at least two dudes in the story. As written, she’s athletic and in good health. 

But the narration CONSTANTLY seems to obsess over food, her appearance, people’s body types, and comparing her body to everyone she interacts with. If she’s eating lunch at the same time as a coworker, she complains in her internal monologue about having to make excuses for her food choices so that her coworker doesn’t judge her for what she’s eating. She makes jokes about a pregnant family member, saying she enjoys hanging out with the pregnant character because she feels skinny next to her. She seems to think she looks horrible and unpresentable when not dressed to the nines and frets over how unflattering her work uniform is. She makes snarky remarks about her best friend’s husband’s weight and constantly seems to feel inferior in terms of appearance compared to her own very athletic boyfriend, thinking other characters are judging her appearance when she’s with him. She both seems to envy and make fun of her skinny best friend’s body. And she talks about food A LOT. At times, she’s so conscious of her appearance and how she looks, even when she’s alone, that you almost feel like she knows she’s in a story and has strangers observing her.

If you had asked me at the time that I wrote it if I intended that character to have body image issues or food issues, I’d say no, she’s just a sarcastic, snarky, funny person who likes to make self-deprecating jokes and that she knows she’s considered conventionally attractive. But reading it seemed honestly pathological-- like, it permeated the entire thing. The comments happened on every page. I didn’t notice at all at the time, and that really tells you where my mindset was. 

I think it can be hard to separate an author’s feelings from a fictional character’s feelings at times. Sometimes when a fictional character has a problematic viewpoint, they’re really a mouthpiece for the author, and sometimes the author intends it to be a negative trait or a biased belief. In this case, I expressed opinions about food and body types that were way harsher than I would ever say out loud in real life or admit to anyone in my life and used a character who, if you asked me, had a healthy and confident attitude toward her body, to express them. I guess I just thought everyone’s internal monologue was like that. I figured attractive people were just as obsessive as I was but better at self-discipline. I honestly believe a lot of the books I read as a teenager may have been written with a similar attitude to mine.

I think I still have a slightly distorted self-image-- for example, at a recent doctor’s appointment, discovered I weigh 30 pounds less than I thought I did-- but I have a much clearer-eyed view of this stuff that I couldn’t see before when I was in the thick of my body issues. When you’re deep in this stuff, not only can you not see your physical shape accurately, you also can’t see your behavior, beliefs, and thoughts for what they really are. It all seems normal.

I’m not sure what point I’m trying to make here, but I do think that the stuff we create can reveal so much more about our own biases, insecurities, and sometimes even harmful beliefs than we’d ever suspect. Those thoughts tend to linger longer than the actions themselves-- I sometimes still think about myself the same way now that I did then, I just don’t let it change my behavior anymore. And like I said, my actions never got so severe that they harmed me physically, but I hope the thoughts that I expressed in my writing, which I published online for people to read, didn’t mess with any other impressionable young people’s self-esteem or habits. Fairly mild mental health issues are especially weird like that-- you don’t really notice the change the way you might with more severe symptoms, and you don’t really think you’re seeing the world or yourself any differently from your peers. It all seems totally normal at the time until you look back.

[aeligsido]

bold of you to assume I fight it off— /jk

Okay in all seriousness, here's a few things I think can help, maybe, I hope at least!

→ do something else. I feel like, often, when you start having those kinds of thoughts, it's best to distract yourself from it. Idk, I treat them like I treat my intrusive thoughts: I don't like you so I'm going to be busying my mind with something else. You wanna be mean with my self-confidence, I'm gonna FORGET you were ever here in the first place. Things like going on social media, reading, or watching TV is not exactly the kind of activities I would go with as it would make me think more of it than anything, so I'll offer things like baking, cooking, decorating your room/apartment, crafting, running, walking outside, gardening, etc. Get your mind off of things for a little while with things you love and you'll end up feeling better and more assured to confront those thoughts.

→ reread your own writing. And I'm not talking about the last fic you've been writing and stuck on for days; I'm talking about the old WIP you haven't touched in months, a fic published years ago you've forgotten all about it, even stories you used to write when you were ten or twelve or fifteen. Reread it, and be surprised and charmed all over again by your own writing, by how far you've come, by how much you still love it, by how much it makes you laugh and cringe with fondness at your past self. Read it and love it all over again. Fall in love with your own writing and never stop doing so.

→ reread your comments. I feel like it's something a lot of writers do! Just read the comments left on your fics; personally, I also read the bookmarks people left on my fics, their tags or little comments (sometimes they write way better summaries that whatever I could have come up with, seriously), and I have a specific folder on discord where I collect every little nice and loving little things reader or mutuals or friends said about me and my writings, so I can go back to it and feel comforted when I need it. It always brings a smile on my face!

→ once you're finally settled and feeling better in general, go back to those thoughts to think about rationally. Okay, so I'll say I'm perhaps a little weird for this; I do like dissecting my own thoughts to know where they come from, why they're here, and how I can make sure they won't come back again. I guess it's a little bit like in therapy, when you talk about something, try to understand how it happens, what your feelings are about it, etc? I would say it's not a mandatory part of it; as I see this as intrusive thoughts, once you feel better and relaxed I think you won't have them anymore, so there wouldn't be any need to force yourself to think about it if they're not here anymore and you don't want to. Though, if you want to do this, I'll suggest using a friend as an attentive ear to clear you up and make sure you don't self-spiral out of the good vibes™.

If you want to do it, here's some thinking on the subject, and questions you can ask yourself then:

What's the difference between fanfiction and original work? What's the difference in writing between fanfiction and original work? Why would one be better than the other? Does your writing change that much when you write fanfiction or original work? Why would one's writing be different or better than the other? Do you like what you write? Do you like how you write? Does it make you happy? Does this difference really matter to you?

And here's some of my thoughts to go with it, if it's of interest:

Fanfiction and original work aren't that much different. Some writing may change — there will be much more exposure in an original work, as in fanfiction one can assume the reader already knows the setting and/or the characters. I still write my fanfiction and my original works the same way, because my writing is what it is and I'm content with it. Everything is worth being written, and it will always find at least one reader, even if this reader is you. All creation deserves to exist, no matter how ugly or broken or unfinished it is. What matters is your passion and your love and everything you choose to pour into this creation. There's nothing you could write or create that wouldn't resonate with at least one person, even if this person is you.

Your stories are worth it, but nothing is more worthy than you.

Question for fellow writers

How do you overcome/try to fight off the belief that your stories aren't worth it?

(or that your writing is 'only' good for fanfictions but that your original works wouldn't appeal to anyone?)

[olivinesea]

Oooh fun! Okay, do you have any headcannons or thoughts on a dyslexic Hotch? I feel like I never see dyslexia with any characters really, and I like the idea of him with it. And if you do and you want to write something about it, a dyslexic Hotch with the team (and them being the supportive and protective family they are?) Thank you! ❤️

I hope you have fun, wherever/whatever you’re doing!!

I love this so much!! Thank you :) okay I don’t have much personal experience with dyslexia so hopefully I get this decently accurate. The biggest thing that surprised me when I was doing a quick search is that it isn’t actually a matter of reading words or letters backwards? It’s more an inability to connect letters to the appropriate sounds or to break words up into component parts; a general phonological awareness struggle.

So, as with many things, it seems to me to be a matter of slowing down, learning at your own pace. This ties in nicely with so many of my other Hotch thoughts, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Idk what this is, it’s neither headcanon nor proper story but hopefully it’s something like what you were looking for:

When he’s a kid he gets called a slow learner due to his undiagnosed dyslexia. It was much less common to get that kind of diagnosis back then in general and I am sure his dad would have hated the idea of his son needing any kind of extra help. So he’s slow to speak, slow to learn how to read, has difficulty with numbers, absolutely hates being called on to read out loud because it’s actual torture and the other kids have no hesitation about laughing at him. So he becomes withdrawn, labeled a “bad kid,” stops trying because, fuck it, he never gets any kind of support, who cares right? It’s always a fight at home, he starts hiding his work, lying about his grades. This works for awhile bc his parents are distracted by other things. His problems are much bigger than grades by the time they do notice.

However, while he hates school and the way people talk about him and his struggles, like he isn’t even there, he discovers that he doesn’t hate learning. There’s a small library in town where he found he could hide out, no one bothering him for hours if he just sat still for with a book open. He was good at sitting still, at being invisible. But eventually a librarian notices that he’s always got the same book open, some sort of technical manual, that he is rarely turning the pages. She asks him if he likes what he’s reading. He’s just alarmed to be spoken to, afraid that being noticed means he will soon no longer have this sanctuary. He nods and tries to bluff his way through but it’s obvious he hasn’t read it, despite having looked at it for weeks straight. The librarian doesn’t say anything outright, just lets him be for now.

Next time she sees him she brings him a different book, a collection of Grimms fairy tales. He wants to complain that it’s for little kids but is too nervous to refuse it. She asks if she can read him her favorite story from it. It’s dark and twisted and fantastical and he can’t help but be drawn in by it. He’s sad when she’s done reading, wants to hear it again, to capture all the details to replay to himself later. She shows him where it starts, encourages him to read it himself. He doesn’t look at her bc he doesn’t want her to see how upset he is by that, already frustrated by the anticipation that he won’t be able to get through it. But she stays with him, helping him where he gets stuck, asking him questions about the story, making sure it’s making sense to him.

They slowly work their way through the whole collection over the course of months. They spend days on each story, repeating it until he’s confident, she never makes him feel like he’s taking too long or wasting her time. Sometimes has to reread a section multiple times, gets hung up on the language rather than the story but it’s okay, she gives him a notebook to copy down parts that spin too loudly in his mind, saving them and also releasing him from their hold so he can move forward. She lets him keep the book, tells him it was too old to stay in circulation anyway, they had a new copy on order already. She’s the first person who was patient with him, that showed him he could do it, he just needed a little more time, a little more practice than other kids.

In college this is part of why he spends so much time at the library. Part of it is his natural inclination to overwork himself, push until he’s given more than he can in hopes that it might be almost enough. He knows he’s never been enough, why would that change just because he’s in a new place? But the other part is he simply needs more time to get through the coursework, to make it through the excessive amounts of reading he’s assigned. Some other students don’t even bother to read but he would never do that, he makes sure that he not only reads every chapter assigned but he reads it again, takes notes, highlights, annotates, does everything in his power to be prepared. Sure he might work himself to the point of exhaustion, to the point where he makes himself sick (though he’ll try to deny that too) but he’s never caught trying to read something while others wait for his answer, the letters and sounds meaningless, slipping away from him faster the more eyes he feels turn towards him, wondering what could be taking so long. No one ever gets the chance to laugh at him for being slow in college, he never allows them to see that side of him.

As an adult, the leader of the BAU, he’s too well respected for anyone to dare laugh at him but he still hates feeling unprepared. This ends up looking like long nights in the office, reviewing case files to the point of memorization, so that he won’t have to read any of it in front of his team. He can if he has to, he’s developed skills over the years, ways to calm the panic that only makes it harder, can fake it well enough that no one would really notice. Until one day, distracted by a migraine and the fallout of some fight with Haley, he gets stuck. He can’t remember something and he tries to read the sentence that has the information but the stupid word just won’t resolve into sounds that make sense and he just stops talking. He’s glaring at the form like it might catch fire. No one says anything for a moment while he tries to refocus, tries to work around echoes of laughter, decades long past but always ready to jump out at him if he lets his guard down, allows a mistake, a tired moment to derail the image of perfect competence that he’s built around himself. Penelope jumps in, finishing the thought, completing the list of traits shared by the victims. He forces himself to smile at her because he really is grateful, it wasn’t her fault. She scrunches her nose at him, dismissing his silent thanks with a toss of her head. It was nothing, everyone needs a little assist now and then.

No one brings it up and he doubles his efforts not to let anyone see. But he’s so tired on the plane coming back from a case, he’s been staring the same forms for an hour at least. He can feel his ears turning red with frustration. There’s really no reason he has to do this now but the fact that his mind is refusing, almost seems to be teasing him, makes him dig in harder. Emily sits down opposite him, pulling the folder away without asking. He’s about to say something sharp, something he’ll regret saying to her when he really means it for himself, but the expression on her face is so odd, smiling with a frown between her eyebrows. It isn’t pity, she respects him far too much, but there is curiosity and something else, something soft.

“Drink with me.” She slides him a glass and they don’t talk, just look out the window, look at the light playing off the ice in their glasses. He doesn’t see the file again until it appears on his desk, every form neatly filled out, the places needing his signature flagged. All but the last spot, where she’s signed his name eerily perfectly, difficult for even him to see that it’s not his own. Just so he knows she can if she wants to. Equal parts offer and threat.

Penelope and Reid start a book club. Derek joins right away. Emily rolls her eyes when she’s invited, muttering something about spending her free time on more work but they know she will join. Rossi flat out refuses to read the books but offers his house for meetings. Hotch hesitates, wanting to say yes but nervous to commit to an activity like that. He loves books, loves to talk about books. He doesn’t love a time limit on books.

The next time they have to drive to a case, Derek puts on a copy of the audiobook. It’s the first time they make it to a destination without any bickering from the backseat. They don’t get through the whole thing but later he finds a copy of the audiobook on his desk, complete with a disc player and headphones.

A different month, Reid tells him about how his mother always used to read him books and somehow finesses an offer to read to Hotch without him even realizing he’s accepted it. So Spencer comes in to Hotch’s office on lunch breaks occasionally and reads to him whatever the book of the month is. He loves it, remembering the first person who read to him, how shocked he’d been to be treated with patience, with understanding and wondering how he got so lucky to be surrounded by people like her, so ready to support him, wanting him there with them rather than off alone, uselessly fighting with himself to prove his self sufficiency over some uncooperative letters.

Okay, that was so much more than I was planning on but here we are. I hope you liked it and thank you SO much for the idea. If you ever have any others you want to share I am totally here for it. :)

Send me requests!

[alicemitch09writes]

hello author-san, u have made me a suna stan 💕

my heart wants to know more about how y/n fell in love with him and what she was thinking of when suna distanced himself towards the end of oli 😭😭😭

Oh my! The power of fanfiction!

Hahaha, but just know that there are a fiction of my ideas because canonically, we don't know how he really is. I do have gists of his personality after rewatching season 4 and rereading the manga and reading some fics.

Soooo...to answer your ask, and to cleanse myself from a sea of thirst asks, here we go:

When Suna asked her to date him, 'no' was ready to be said, it was at the tip of her tongue, but she saw the earnest look in his eyes, felt the sincerity in his words, too. And at the back of her head, there was a voice telling her to say 'yes'. And when she did say it, her heart quick started.

The first few days of dating him were clumsy, more so on her part, because she didn't know how to be a girlfriend, worried that he might be pranking her, worried that she's horrible at it. But Suna would patient with her, the same way she was when they were in high school and he was adjusting to his environment.

Slowly, she eased herself into the relationship.

She was the one who held hands with him first, fascinated by how long his fingers were, how pale he was compared to her, and how strong his hands were against hers. In turn, Suna, who was blushing so hard, sneakily snapped a photo of their joined hands, saw the scar on her finger and asked about it, then kissed it.

Reader found herself falling more and more for Suna for every time he showed her a piece of him, shared with her something new - loved how he was always involving her in things. And when the tables turned, he would be just as enthusiastic (evident in his eyes, because he has a constant poker face).

He didn't make fun of her after finding out her arachnaphobia or fear around dogs. In fact, she got herself to calm down after Murase-san's doberman visited, Suna helped her petting and befriending the dog, clinging against him the whole time.

After their one-month mark of dating, they became more and more intimate, they opened up to each other a lot.

Osamu was offended that she didn't tell him about their relationship, but calmed down after finding out that neither did their seniors. They were all leading busy lives, after all.

By their eight-month mark of dating, she suggested that Suna get himself pierced. She said it'll make him look cool or heighten his senses. It took a while until he relented and got an Industrial piercing. He already has lobe earrings from high school, but never really wore earrings much. Not until he dated her.

One time (and I was inspired of an art I saw on Twitter), some children approached Suna doing his infamous pose and asked for a photo. Suna jokingly said, "please ask my girlfriend, first" and the kiddies gasped and turned to Reader saying, "girlfriend-san! please?" Suna knew she wasn't really good with kids and had a good laugh, seeing her flail and fold at the kiddies' eyes and nodded. When they were done, one of the kids shyly told her, "you're pretty girlfriend-san!" and their mom said, "what a lovely couple you two make!"

Reader blushed, as did Suna, but he tried to play it cool. But he did capture Reader with the kids in 4k.

Suna is infinitely proud of his smart girlfriend, posting all her achievements in his SNS, when he's not surrendering to laughter at the twins' antics. He has her university graduation uploaded, her thesis defense uploaded, her crying because she got accepted at graduate school, and her crying because she received word that Mika got pregnant and got engaged.

Seeing how proud he is of her helped with her confidence and self-esteem.

When she does Shodo, Suna would sometimes walk in her study room to watch. And one time, she asked, rather shyly, if she could write on his skin. He relented, and she was fascinated with how beautiful he was inked.

AAAAAAND, they eventually did it. Thankfully, she has papers around to soak in the ink and keep the room from being totally dirty. They then talked about tattoos, tiny ones that'll allow them in onsens.

Reader just keeps falling more and more, feeling more and more affirmed as her own person and loved.

But when Suna distanced himself, it scared her.

Suddenly, she felt like she was a kid again, seeing her father walk out the door, hearing her mom cry.

The loneliness from before, post-incident came rushing to her. It didn't help that he was also ignoring her calls. In a fit of panic, she called her sister, Mika.

Mika, who was panicked when Reader called her, in tears, scared that she might lose Suna. This angered Mika, and Reiki, who was listening in because Mika answered in loudspeaker. Both of them had half a mind to rush to Hiroshima and beat Suna's ass. But Reader begged them not to.

Instead, they gave her some advice. Mika, telling her sister to try to talk to him. Reiki, telling her of what he knows (very careful not to mention him and Kaoru talking) and telling her to stand her ground.

[emy-loves-you]

Have Your Name (And Your Back) Chapter 7

Chapter 6 | Masterlist | Chapter 8

Summary: Prince stops by to ask a few questions, and Patton's fears have been confirmed. Or have they?

Warnings:  discussions of beating, taking away food and clothes, and other serious topics. Also mentions bruises and aftermath of a traumatic event, along with a lot of negative self-talk from Patton

After his first day of lessons with Logic, Patton's first few days at the manor weren’t very interesting. Even though he didn’t have any chores or much that he needed to do, his life had quickly developed into a simple schedule to follow. He would start his day each morning by getting up early and taking a long bath. Then he would get a new outfit from his closet and twirl around in it for a few minutes before settling down on his bed. He would then grab Logic's notebook and they would go over whatever chapters Logic had assigned the day before. After that was breakfast with Prince, along with that delicious jam that was quickly becoming Patton's favorite food. Then he would practice either math or English writing. After that Logic would assign him some chapters to read on Fae rules and customs. Prince would end the lesson with lunch and Patton usually took a nap afterward. He would then read over the chapters until dinner, and after that he would change into pajamas and go to bed. It was boring sometimes, especially in the hours between his nap and dinner when it only took an hour or two to read his chapters. He was used to always having something to do, and he could only sleep for so many hours before that became boring as well. He tended to spend that time rereading earlier chapters, since it tended to make Logic happy and made Patton feel useful.

Things were already beginning to change, however.

It started almost 2 weeks after Patton’s arrival. He had just finished eating lunch with Prince (well more like he ate and Prince read his book. Did fairies not need to eat or did he just eat at a different time? He’d have to find a way to ask Logic about that later) and was being escorted back to his room. Patton had expected Prince to say farewell before leaving him to his own devices until dinner. Instead, he stood in the doorway and rubbed his neck, appearing… nervous?

Patton tilted his head to the side, trying not to let his own nervousness show as he silently watched. What could make Prince nervous? Prince was never nervous. The thought made the pit in Patton’s stomach worsen with every second.

Eventually, Prince cleared his throat and looked up at him. “May I come in, Heart? There are quite a few things I’d like to discuss with you.” Patton nodded shakily and his Fairy Godfather quickly stepped into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Patton was nervously shifting from foot to foot but Prince didn’t seem to notice, instead carefully observing the room around him. “Has Logic been teaching you about Fae culture?”

Patton nodded, bouncing on his toes. “I’ve been learning a lot about negotiation magic and what the most common types are from a human’s per...pers…”

Prince chuckled and Patton jumped, startled. “Perspective?”

He giggled, trying to hide his nervousness. “Yeah, that!”

Prince smiled softly, his gaze turning back to the empty room. “Has he taught you how to properly defend yourself yet?”

His smile fell. “Well, not yet. He says he wants to wait until I can write well in English before teaching me, so I can actually respond to his questions.” He looked down at the ground, suddenly feeling queasy as he tensed up. This was a test, wasn’t it? It was a test and I failed. He had wondered why Prince didn’t make him clean or cook. He was good at it, Prince had even complimented him on how clean Hart Manor was the first time they met! Patton had assumed it was just because he had magic instead, so Patton’s skill set was rendered useless. He knew why now. The expectations set on him weren’t to cook and clean. They were to learn as much as possible and defend himself against fairies. And Patton had failed his expectations.

It had been so long since Patton had last been punished, he’d almost forgotten the terror he always felt leading up to it. The ice that traveled through his veins, making his muscles stiff and his mind run on a loop. All he could do was sit there and wonder how he would be punished, hope that he would be able to keep his clothes and bed and bath. Maybe if he was lucky Prince would use his fire magic to heal him after his punishment. It probably wouldn’t happen, but at least he could hope-

“Patton, breathe!” Patton’s eyes snapped up to meet Prince’s gaze, gulping down air as his mind cleared slightly. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been hyperventilating. When the black spots in his vision went away and he was finally able to focus, he turned his attention over to his Fairy Godfather’s panicked yet sheepish expression. “My apologies, Heart. You couldn’t breathe properly and you couldn’t seem to see or hear me, so I did what I had to do to calm you down.” He raised his hand and Patton flinched, waiting for pain. There was a moment of tense silence, and Patton barely suppressed another flinch when Prince broke it with a whisper. “Oh Heart. I will never purposefully hurt you like that. Don’t you remember me telling you that?”

Patton blinked quickly as he tried to focus on Prince’s shoes, tears blurring his vision. He didn’t speak up, not wanting to upset his caretaker. A part of Patton knew that Prince would never hurt him, that he didn’t want to cause him harm. But after years of knowing that he was worthless, of being beaten everyday for not meeting standards, it ingrained the idea that he had to be perfect. And he had thought that he was doing it well. He didn’t have any physical chores, but Prince seemed to relax when Patton smiled and twirled around, so he assumed he was meeting his expectations. But he wasn’t. He was dumb and couldn’t even do simple tasks like reading and writing! Maybe the little voice in his head was right and he should be punished-

Patton shook his head, letting in a shuddering breath. Those bad thoughts were wrong! He didn’t deserve it! He deserved to be happy and loved, just like Prince said. But Prince doesn’t deserve me. He deserves a better godson, not some broken kid who can’t even hold a conversation without breaking down-

‘Just because you have bad thoughts doesn’t mean you’re weak or broken.’ Patton forced more air into his lungs, trying to clear his head while he remembered what the Duke had told him on his first day here. He had seen some of Patton’s punishments, and he’s said that Patton didn’t deserve them. That had to count for something, right? Two different people telling him that he didn’t deserve to be punished?

Patton let out a shuddering breath. “I-” His voice cracked and he flinched, but forced the next few words out before Prince could worry more. “I know. I trust you. It’s just… I feel…” He groaned and flopped back on the bed. “Words are hard.”

His fairy godfather chuckled, easing back to lay down next to him. “Words can be such a fickle thing, can’t they?” They laid there in silence for a few minutes before he spoke up again. “Can you tell me why you started panicking?”

Patton starred at his ceiling, the twinkling fairy lights calming his nerves. “I could…”

Prince made an odd sound, and Patton couldn’t tell if it sounded humorous or irritated, or maybe something else. “Alright, will you tell me why you panicked, Hart?”

Patton sighed, the long sleeves of his shirt getting bunched up in his tight grip. “...Promise me you won’t be upset?”

He felt Prince shift next to him, probably to look over at him, but Patton couldn’t tell as he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t bear to see his fairy godfather’s face right now. There was a moment of silence, and Patton was sure that he would refuse to promise, or ask why he wanted a promise out of him in the first place. Patton had read a few chapters ahead to please Logic, and he had read about how much promises mean to the Fae. A promise wasn’t as powerful as an oath or vow, but it was still nothing to scoff at. When you promised something to a fairy- or, in turn, if a fairy promised something to you- it couldn’t be broken easily. Not without the person who made the promise suffering some form of consequence. Oh, why did Patton have to be so greedy, asking for something that he knew meant so much to the Fae? He opened his mouth to apologize.

“I promise.”

“I’m sor- wait, what?” Patton looked over at his fairy godfather, who was staring at him with an intensity that made him want to squirm.

Prince maintained eye contact as he took a deep breath, steeling himself as he spoke. “I promise that whatever you say next will not make me upset with you.”

Patton shuddered as he felt the promise wash over him, fueled by his fairy godfather’s magic. It seeped into his skin and made his insides all warm and fuzzy, like a warm hug etched into his very soul. It gave him a feeling of safety and support that gave him the confidence to continue. “I’ve been wondering why you didn’t want me to cook or clean, and at first I thought it was because you could do it better with your magic. But now I think I know why.” He carefully wrapped his arms around his middle, belatedly hoping that Prince didn’t notice the movement as he shielded his sides. Even though it had been almost 2 weeks, the bruises on his legs and sides from where Lord Hart kicked him were still there, the marks appearing like smears of jam against his skin. They still hurt often, and he just thinking about them made his sides throb. “My par- Lord and Lady Hart, they expected me to cook and clean for them. And when I didn’t meet their standards, I got punished. You don’t expect me to cook and clean. You expect me to learn all that I can about the Fae from Logic. And I should know more now, but I’ve been struggling with writing in English. Logic’s explanations leave me all dizzy and confused. Not that it’s his fault, please don’t be mad at him! I just struggle to understand what he means sometimes, and it’s hard to ask questions when you can’t speak or write to them.” He felt his sides ache in reminder as to what would come next. “I know you said you wouldn’t hurt me, but I also know that there’s more than one way to be punished, and that I’d rather get smacked than lose what you’ve already given me. The baths, the food, the clothes… they’re more than what I could ever hope for. And I know I don’t deserve it, but could you use your fire magic on me afterwards? It feels really nice and makes the hurt go away.”

Prince stayed silent the entire time, periodically clenching and unclenching his jaw as Patton spoke. When he finished, his fairy godfather took a deep breath, nearly growling as he spoke. “I wish to go downstairs and break those monsters down piece-by-piece until they’re left begging for death. The only reason I haven’t already done so is because the laws of Fae won’t let me.” His hand reached up to touch Patton and he flinched, squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh, Heart.” Patton nearly flinched again, this time at how utterly broken his fairy godfather sounded. Prince’s hand cupped his cheek and Patton shuddered at the touch, nearly sobbing at the heat (he couldn’t even tell if the heat came from Prince’s skin or his own, but it still burned in just the right way). ��Look at me please.” Patton shuddered and forced his eyes open, tears blurring his vision. His fairy godfather was smiling at him, his eyes watering as he spoke. “There’s those adorable blue eyes.” His expression suddenly turned… sad? “Patton, I swear that as your godfather, I will never purposefully deprive you of common necessities. That means I will never take away your clothes, bed, bath, food, or anything else that you may need. I also swear that I will never touch you with the intention of harming you.”

Patton bit back a gasp as the magic sunk into his skin, validating his oath. Earlier, his promise had been comfortably warm, like your blankets when you first wake up. This, however, felt like he was literally on fire. Every part of him tingled with an intense heat that somehow didn’t hurt. It made him feel more protected than he had ever felt in his entire life, and Patton embraced the feeling like a moth would an open flame.

When he was finally able to focus beyond the new heat running through his veins, Prince continued. “Let me make this clear, Heart: there are no expectations beyond trying your best. And even if there were expectations, you wouldn’t be punished for not completing them. Instead, we would sit down and discuss what you struggled with before trying again.If you’re trying your best and still can’t understand the material, it’s not your fault but ours. And I want you to know just how proud I am of you. You’ve been through so much in so little time, and you’ve still managed to defy any expectations that I could ever imagine placing upon you. You are amazing, and smart, and brave, and so, so kind.”

Patton let out a sob at that, and Prince gently pulled him into a hug, slowly so Patton had plenty of time to back out if he wanted. Patton all but collapsed into the warmth, sobbing uncontrollably. When was the last time that someone had said they were proud of Patton? Had anyone ever been proud of him before now? He didn’t know, but one thing was for certain; his fairy godfather was proud of HIM. And that was enough to bring in a new wave of tears as he clung to his godfather’s chest.

Eventually, the heat became too much for the touch-starved boy, and he weakly pressed against his godfather’s chest. Prince immediately let go and Patton scooted back to his previous spot on his bed. “Now,” Prince began, “I came here to discuss something, but I understand if you’d like to wait until tomorrow before we talk about anything else.” Patton shook his head and Prince smiled softly. “Alright. I had already suspected that you were struggling with reading and writing in English. When I was younger I also struggled with it, and I also know that it’s extremely difficult without help. And while Logic can help you somewhat, he isn’t here to physically talk to you or see what you’re doing. So, I was wondering if you wanted me to help you. I would take over your English studies everyday after lunch, and after we finished I would help you with the verbal side of fairy magic.”

Patton stared for a moment in shock before looking away, blushing slightly. “You don’t have to do all of this.”

Prince chuckled. “But I want to. I want to help you learn as much as possible, so one day you can explore this manor on your own instead of staying in your room all day.” He gestured to the room around them. “There was something else that I would like to discuss with you. I was wondering if you’d like any new furniture for your room. A desk for writing, a reading chair, anything you could think of? I’m afraid I tend to think on the extravagant side, so whatever I come up with might overwhelm you.” Patton opened his mouth but Prince beat him to it. “And before you say it, I know I don’t have to give you this stuff, but I want to. And trust me when I say that there’s nothing you could come up with that’s out of the realm of possibility.”

Patton bit his lip as he thought about it. Should he ask for it? He looked up at Prince’s encouraging smile and pushed the words out. “You can see my thoughts, right? With your magic? The Duke told me that he could see my bad thoughts while you could see my good ones.”

Prince chuckled softly. “That’s an oversimplified way to put it, but yes. If I wanted to, I could read your thoughts. But I don’t do it unless I have your permission.”

He looked away, another blush forming. “Well, a few months ago I saw this really pretty desk at the market. I couldn’t touch it or anything because then I would get in trouble, but I’m pretty sure I remember what it looks like. Can you use your magic to take a look at it?”

He nodded. “I can, but I’ll need to touch you in order to see it clearly. Just a finger to your temple should do.” Patton nodded and closed his eyes, feeling a finger against his head a few moments later. His skin burned and itched with oversensitivity but he ignored it, instead focusing on the memory. It had been a short but wide wooden desk, with drawers on each side to hold stuff. It was a pretty off-white color, and the place where your legs went had a pale blue cloth in place for Patton to hide behind (that last part might’ve been subconsciously added, but Prince didn’t need to know that).

When Prince pulled away Patton yawned, utterly exhausted. When he saw Prince’s worried look he was quick to apologize. “I’m sorry, this isn’t boring I promise! I just usually take a nap right after lunch.”

Prince frowned. “Why didn’t you say so? I could’ve waited until afterwards to talk to you.” Patton shrugged and he sighed. “Well, go ahead and get some rest now. We’ll begin our lessons tomorrow afternoon. Just call my name after you’ve read whatever Logic’s assigned to you and I’ll appear to start teaching you. And Heart?” Patton looked up, already starting to fall asleep. “If you ever feel unsafe around one of us, don’t hesitate to speak up. Even if you think you deserve it, bring it up to someone first. You have me and my brother, and when you master writing you can talk to Logic too. Just don’t let yourself hurt for our sake, alright?” Patton nodded and he smiled softly. “Thank you. I’ll let you rest now. Goodnight Heart.” Patton couldn’t respond, already drifting off to dreamland.

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