#and like i said i can't write fic lol this is just me word vomiting my au ideas at 6 in the morning

[hisinfinities]

Maybe it's silly, but I can't get it out of my head - I really do love the potential that putting Gojo and Sukuna into the Death Parade world has.

(When two people die at the same time, they're sent to a mysterious bar where they're forced to compete against each other in a game with their lives on the line. Upon arrival, they don't remember dying. Who they were before, how they choose to play the game, and how they handle their returning memories of their life and death, all help an arbiter judge them, and decide whether their soul is to be reincarnated or sent to the void forever.)

And I love the idea of Gojo and Sukuna going through this together. They battle, as they do in canon, but manage to kill each other at the same time (is this realistic given how Sukuna was holding back? Maybe not, but for the sake of the plot, let's imagine.) Suddenly they're in this weird place. Neither of them of have any memory of how they got there or what they were doing prior to arriving. They don't remember dying, they don't remember fighting, as far as they know it isn't even December 24th yet.

What they do realize, very quickly, is they have no cursed energy, can't use their techniques, can't do anything. Gojo doesn't have his infinity, his six eyes-- it's gone. The internal humming of constant RCT on his brain isn't there. All he can see is what's right in front of him. Sukuna looks closer to how he did in his Heian days (minus the massive size and extra body parts), no longer in Megumi's body.

Neither will voice it, but it makes them feel vulnerable. Feel so incredibly mortal. Human.

They assume, maybe, that this place is someone's domain, something to rationalize how they've suddenly lost every ability they had as Jujutsu sorcerers. The bartender -- the arbiter whom can already see their memories and will soon be judging them -- tells them otherwise, once they've approached the counter. They're skeptical, especially since they're told that they won't be able to leave until they play a game, but they play along. What else are they going to do, right?

I don't know which arbiter would be selected to judge them. Realistically they'd be special cases given Sukuna's list of crimes throughout his life and the destruction they both caused during their fight, but the idea of it being Decim does make me chuckle. I imagine Sukuna taking a seat at the bar, taking one look at this guy (the white hair, the bright, bizarre blue eyes) and immediately commenting about him being related to Gojo.

And what game would they be made to play? I wouldn't want it to be anything too modern, nothing like an arcade game as to be a little more fair to Sukuna. Maybe one of the many traditional Japanese board games, something that forces them to sit down with each other and talk (aside from all the banter we already know will take place regardless), and use their brains to win rather than their brawn. Perhaps Shogi, which has been around in some form since the Heian era? But I also like them having something slightly more physical, something like archery. Or darts, or billiards, games we've already seen in the Death Parade universe.

But they're a competitive pair, and go all out no matter what they end up having to play. Let's consider this a warm up round for the real thing, one of them says. Cue the taunting, the banter. Despite them both trying to win, neither seem to be taking it too seriously. The arbiter eventually reveals to them that their lives, their souls, are in fact on the line.

They don't take that very seriously either. What, is the loser of this game going to die? Whatever this bartender plans to do, they can get out of this-- they're the strongest. Even while being stuck in this place and unable to use their cursed techniques, they don't doubt that, and have a shared moment of "Pfft, get a load of this guy, right?" between them. They don't realize it, but they're bonding. Laughing off the idea of their lives being at stake over a game.

This poor arbiter sighing, stuck with such an egotistical pair of customers.

It's about halfway through the game that the arbiter begins to activate some of their memories. Suddenly they're remembering significant moments in their lives. Gojo being placed on a pedestal since birth, his near-death experience against Toji, his entire history with Suguru, his youth, his students, being sealed, Kenjaku possessing Suguru's body... And Sukuna. His life during the Heian era, being unwanted, to his rise to power and infamy and legend, the feeling of being in a body again after Yuji ate his finger, his first fight with Gojo, taking in the modern world through Yuji's eyes, awaiting the moment he can take his true form once more.

It makes them talk, naturally. Not that either of them are the type to open and up and share their life story, but they voice the oddity when they're both inexplicably hit with memories out of the blue. The way each of them came into their powers is an interest to them both. Their relationship with relating to others (or not.) The solitude that comes with power. These conversations start to happen. They don't see eye to eye on everything, but understanding forms between them. Gojo feels like he's reaching him.

They're nearing the end of their game and they've been damn near tied throughout the entire thing.

Memory of their fight hits Sukuna first. Then Gojo. Their shared fates revealed simultaneously.

They're dead. They've been dead this whole time.

There's the initial shock, sure (and a dramatic "Seriously, I'm dead? This sucks!" from Gojo), but whatever either of them may be truly feeling about it, they hide it well. Instead, they talk about the fight. Would we expect anything else? Tease each other for their blunders, lightheartedly talk about what they could've, should've done differently to win... but most importantly, there's praise. They both proved themselves to the other by the end, after all. And where they are now, well, that tells them they really are equal, aren't they? That the title of the "The Strongest," briefly, truly belonged to two people at the same time.

The two strongest in history.

Sukuna, just barely, wins their game. By one move, one point. Gojo whines in protest, but it's all in jest, in good fun. He feels so relaxed, so light, despite just learning that he's died. They're both taking it surprisingly well. The arbiter is so much more used to seeing their customers become confused, distraught, angry, in denial.

Maybe it's because for Sukuna and Gojo, they can't imagine a more satisfying way to die, going out in a blaze of glory in one of the most exhilarating battles they've ever had.

"So what now?"

The arbiter explains how they were being judged, in order to determine if their souls would be reincarnated or sent to the void.

They both laugh, but Sukuna noticeably harder.

"There's no way you needed me to play this game in order to judge me."

And the arbiter admits that yes, he's right, his soul was doomed to be sent to the void since the moment he set foot in here, and that the game was more for determining Gojo's fate. Gojo jokingly asks if he "passed," but then that he doesn't want to know, wants to wait until it's time. Deep down, he thinks it could easily go either way.

Sukuna eyes the bar, asks the arbiter if there's time for a drink before they go. It's granted to them. Gojo waves it off, says he's not one for alcohol.

"Are you really turning down my offer to have a drink? You're dead, this might be the last thing you ever get to do."

"Is the great Sukuna warming up to me? Fine, I'll have a drink, since you want my company so bad."

And they do, and it's a sight no one could've ever expected: Gojo and Sukuna sitting side by side, having a drink together in the afterlife. They talk briefly of what must be going on back in the world of the living now that the both of them are gone, what it means for the plans each side of the conflict had, but they don't dwell on it much. It's all out of their hands now and Gojo, as always, has full faith in the strength of his students. Whatever's happening now, he has to believe they'll be okay.

He does wonder about Megumi, though. They both do. If they were somehow able to save him or if Sukuna's death meant his own end, too, and if he's in this tower somewhere being judged by someone else.

Eventually silence settles between them and Gojo finds himself looking down at the bar counter, hand loose around his glass.

"This was fun. I had fun."

He doesn't expect to find Sukuna looking at him, looking... amused? Content? Leaning on the counter, drink close to his lips.

"You were magnificent, Gojo Satoru. I won't forget you for as long as I live."

What a strange thing to see such sincerity in Sukuna's eyes, to see him smile. Gojo smiles too, grins, feels a twinge of something in him that almost feels like something he hasn't felt since his youth. But then he scoffs.

"Gee, thanks. It's not like you're already dead or anything."

They share another laugh.

It comes time for them to go. They each stand before their respective elevators, which each sport a different mask hanging above them, indicating their fates.

Gojo is to be reincarnated.

"Good luck in your next life. Use it to become something even more impressive than in your last."

"Yeah, and good luck in your eternal pit of nothingness, or whatever."

The elevator doors open.

"... You know, it's too bad you're not going up with me." Is that the direction reincarnated souls go? Up?

"Why's that?"

"I'm just starting to think we could've gotten along, in another life. Could've been friends."

Sukuna chuckles, grins to himself. "I've never cared about having friends."

"Maybe in that other life, you would've."

"Maybe."

They exchange one final look, one of respect, Gojo offering a final wave before they step inside their elevators and accept their fates. The doors close. Behind one, a soul's memories are being erased and is being sent back to start anew. Behind the other, a soul is being sent into a dark, endless void.

And both of those souls stand equally proud.

[bamfkeeper]

Drunk and hungover Kurt is a needy, whiny mess and you get to take care of him.

In a comic I read Kurt goes insane and drinks himself to a hangover and I wanted to write a fic about it. Turned out way longer than expected, it was supposed to be a funny little drabble lol. I came back to this at two different times so I hope it doesn't read as choppy.

Warnings: Alcohol use, hangovers, descriptions of vomiting, gender neutral reader, unedited.

WC: 2.5k

You had no idea where Kurt was during the Gala, he had gone off for another drink and he never came back. You searched around, finally finding him slumped on the floor. He hiccupped, his head lifted up and he was definitely dazed. "L-Lieeblinggg...." he slurred, his smile slanted as he tried to seem like he was totally fine...when he was clearly drunk.

"Kurt! How much have you had to drink??" You asked with a frown, you never really cared if he drank, but it seems that tonight he went crazy. He drank excessively and he was way over his limit. He could barely even hold his head up, god forbid he teleport anywhere.

"Come on..." you grunted after you received no response, "Let's get you back...you are gonna feel like shit in the morning." You managed to weasel your arm around his back and lift him up enough, his feet supporting him but he was like a large, weak dummy you were trying to puppet. "Kurt, please work with me..." you strained, jerking him up a little bit more.

He lifts his head up at the sound of voice, his expression looking completely dazed and drunk, his vision a bit woozy as he tries to focus on your face. Kurt takes a moment to process what you just said, the gears in his mind turning as he blinks a few times and eventually understands your words.

Kurt just ends up letting out a small chuckle, nuzzling the side of your face and clinging to you tighter, almost in a childlike manner. “Ach-“ he murmurs, his words slurred and his thick German accent sounding heavier than normal. “I can stand, mein Engel. Just fine.”

His feet shifted below him and he supported himself so you weren't struggling as much. Good. He was standing. Now came the hard part: getting him to walk.

"Okay...let's go. Time to get home..." You instructed calmly, you began to slowly take steps forward, his tail curling around your waist tightly. After walking for a few minutes he became fidgety, like a child wanting out of a carseat. You frowned and held onto him, "You can't walk on your own," you reasoned with him but he just shook his head.

He lets go of your arm to take a few steps forward, only to stagger and fall forward almost immediately. Kurt would’ve face planted, but thanks to his tail still wrapped around your leg, it prevented his fall completely and you had caught him by the waist before he could topple onto the concrete sidewalk.

"Goddamnit, Kurt! You almost ate the sidewalk!" you groaned and tried to pull him upright again, his feet nearly tripping over each other in his struggle to stand up again. "Please, please try to walk, I know you don't feel good, but I really need you to try. I don't have super strength..." Your reasoning fell on his ears and sounded like water slushing through one and out the other to him.

Kurt didn’t resist you pulling him closer to you, instead choosing to nuzzle his face into your shoulder once more, seemingly unconcerned by the fact he just almost took a nosedive into the sidewalk. His tail still has a firm grip on your leg, even as leans into you. He lets out another quiet chuckle as he clings onto you like a koala, mumbling into your shoulder.

After a long, very long, walk to your home, you managed to get him inside. It took a lot of effort on your end, since he was basically a ragdoll at the end of the walk. You dragged him into your home, watching him stand and sway like he were on a ship. "Sit," you guided, taking his shoes off since he clearly couldn't do anything on his own right now.

You moved to his clothes, slowly unbuttoning his extravagant outfit from the gala you attended that night. He's all over the place as you attempt to strip him out of his formal clothing, stumbling and nearly toppling to the floor more than once as you struggle to get his suit off of him. How he does this from a seated position, you will never know.

“If you wanted to take my clothes off, I would’ve let you sooner…” He mumbled, his drunken self still surprisingly cheeky and flirtatious even if he’s nearly out of it. You rolled your eyes a little bit, expecting him to be a little cheeky. When he did have a casual beer, he would drink just enough to be buzzed and he always got super flirty. But he was still sober enough to talk, walk, function like normal. Not like now.

"Kurt, hold still...I need to get you out of this for bed, no funny business. Bed only. To sleep." You successfully tug the suit jacket off and toss it aside, letting it hit the floor with a heavy thunking sound. He’s now only left in a thin, skin-tight white undershirt that leaves very little to the imagination, especially as it sticks to his abdomen and chest, the sleeves a bit ruffled and very pirate-esque.

He looks down at you through heavy lidded eyes, a smirk still on his face that’s half-hidden by the way he’s nuzzling the side of your neck. “Does that mean I can’t have any fun?”

"You are not having fun tonight, Kurt...you are incredibly drunk, and I wouldn't do that." You insisted back, frowning at him as you took his undershirt off. He murmurs something in German under his breath, a quiet stream of words that are nothing more than heated, drunken mumbles of affections.

Kurt’s hands wander to your hips now, gripping at the fabric of your clothes rather firmly as he tries to regain his balance. “You look so good…” He mumbles, one hand sliding lower. “I just want to touch…”

"Hey, no." Your hands pull his away, and you give him a stern look, "No, Kurt...you are drunk. You are going to get up and come to bed, for SLEEP." With some struggle, you finally got him up again and drug him to the bedroom, pulling the blankets back on the bed and looking back to see him swaying again.

"You're cruel..." he slurred out, his voice soft and pouty, "You know that..?"

"Mhm, so cruel that I drug you back home instead of leaving you all alone at that party to wake up hungover slumped against the wall." You replied plainly, gesturing to the bed. "Come on...bed."

You were pleased when he trudged over and sat down on the bed, letting out a huff as he plopped down. He looked up to you, his face blushed from his drunk affliction and his eyes weary. Your hand came up and ran through his hair, "Am I mean still? For taking care of you?" You questioned the poor blue mutant with a slight tease in your tone.

Kurt leaned his head into your hand, his yellow eyes fluttering closed and a low purr-like noise rumbling in his chest as you pet his head. Despite his protests and grievances, Kurt’s nothing less than a lovesick puppy.

"Ach, yes. You’re so mean to me, mein schatz.” He replies, sounding more sarcastic than sincerely annoyed as he speaks. He lets out another small groan, flopping backward and spreading out on the bed dramatically. Good...that saved you time. You pulled the covers over his body and tucked him in. Luckily once he actually laid down in bed, he passed out almost immediately. He gave a few more whines and moans, but with some coaxing he blacked out.

A quiet, half-hearted groan can be faintly heard from inside the room. Kurt has woken up, and unfortunately he wasn't feeling too great, as you predicted.

The first thing he notices is that you’re not next to him (which he isn’t happy about), and the second thing he notices is that he feels awful. His head is pounding and he feels nauseous, and judging by the way his stomach is twisting in knots…he follows his body's rapid urge and he throws the covers off him, stumbling out of the bed and rushing towards the bathroom.

Kurt let out a low, pained groan as he leaned over the toilet, his hand gripping the edge of the seat as he began to retch. He lets out a few dry heaves before bile comes up his throat, the acidic liquid burning and leaving him with a bitter, stinging taste in his mouth.

You heard this from the spare room, you decided to sleep there in case he tried anything in his drunken state. You didn't want him to realize he did anything and regret it, or whatever. You'd never want to cross that boundary and take advantage of him in any way, even if he seemed like he wanted to. You never knew if he did or not, it was basic sense not to do anything with someone who can't think clearly.

"Oh, Kurt..." you sighed seeing him curled over the toilet, walking up to him and rubbing his back. "Don't fight it...just let it out. It'll be over quicker if you let it happen."

Kurt’s stomach let out another loud ache as he retched into the toilet more, spitting up another string of bitter, burning bile. He lets out another low, pained groan as he does so, his tail drooping weakly behind him and his yellow eyes beginning to fill with a thin layer of tears.

A small shiver ran through him as you rubbed his back, his body leaning into your hand as he tried to even his breathing between bouts of being sick. “I feel like I’m dying…” He mumbles under his breath, his voice a pathetic whine as he tried to get as much comfort from you as possible.

His body shook with another painful gag and he once again threw up, a stream of bitter fluids coming up his throat and into the toilet. He let out a small grunt, his yellow eyes looking glassy and out of focus.

He’s trembling slightly, an uncomfortable cold shiver running through his entire body as he retches and coughs. He’s not holding back anymore, letting whatever is left in his stomach empty out. Eventually the dry heaving passes, and Kurt lets out a small groan of pain. “Hnnng…”

He throws up for ten minutes straight. Small intervals between each wave.

After several minutes of dry heaving, he rests his head on the rim of the toilet, breathing heavily between pants. His eyes close and his face flushes slightly with exertion, “Please…” He manages to get out in a quiet, pleading voice. “…make it stop….”

"You haven't thrown anything up for a little bit...I think you got it all, baby." You pulled him to sit up more, flushing the toilet and running a rag under the faucet to dampen it. "Just sit still if you can. A little clean up then you can lay back down, I promise."

You began to wipe his mouth with the rag, supporting him as much as possible but letting the wall he leaned into do most of the work. "That's it...now here, rinse with this and I'll help you back to bed."

He practically leaned his entire weight on you as you helped him up off the floor and led him to the sink. He spat out the rest of the bitter taste in his mouth before using the mouthwash as instructed. Kurt took the mouthwash you handed him and slowly began to gargle it. It almost made him throw up again, just from the act of gargling.

When he was done, you wrapped your arm around him and pulled him towards the bedroom. "Good job...come on. Back to bed okay? I have some water there for you." You were relieved he didn't protest when you guide him back to bed, he sits down on the edge, taking the glass of water you held out to him and quickly downing it.

Kurt lets out another small, pained groan. “…I feel awful.”

"I don't doubt it. You drank a lot. Beer, some whiskey and gin...then tequila shots." You recalled what one of your friends told you when you reached out, and Kurt whined loudly, holding his mouth.

"Nngh...bitte....I will throw up again just hearing that..." Kurt's whine made you smile lightly, so you stopped.

"Alright, alright," you smiled and gestured for him to lay back down in bed. He needed to rest some more. You'd be there to take care of him.

Kurt places the empty glass down on the nightstand before he laid back down on his side again, pulling the covers up over himself. His entire body is still trembling slightly as he shivers, and Kurt looks as if he’s struggling not to pass out.

He lets out another small, pained groan as he curls in on himself. “Es tut mir Leid...I must have been such a fool last night." Kurt mutters with slight shame and sadness in his voice. "Stay with me..?” He requests quietly in a somewhat pleading tone.

How could you deny that face?

"Of course. I'm here to take care of you." You reassured him and stroked his hair comfortingly, "And don't apologize. I mean sure...I was a little shocked at how much you drank, but hey, everyone was partying." You tried to help him feel better, in all honesty you weren't mad at him at all. Just worried, since he drank so heavily so suddenly.

He gave a weak smile, but he was still feeling like shit. "Danke...for taking care of me and dealing with my sickness...I do not think anyone else would sit in the bathroom with me and watch me puke." Kurt chuckled, though it was soft and pained.

"You don't need to thank me for caring for my boyfriend," you chuckled lightly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Now...you need some much needed shut eye. I'll be right here if you need anything. Water, medicine, a trash can. For now, just try to get some sleep to fight that headache I know you have." Your hand continued to stroke his hair, your fingers running through his locks and scratching his scalp lightly.

His eyes close and his head leans into your hand as you pet his head, a quiet, small purr-like noise rumbling in his chest. "Okay." Kurt's voice is so tired, he's ready for more sleep. He enjoys when you play with his hair, so you gladly continue until you see his breathing pattern even out and deepen. Kurt snuggles into you, and luckily he fell asleep even though he felt pretty shitty. All because you were there to help him, and he couldn't be any more grateful about it.

You felt his tail weakly curl around your leg, his sleeping form seeking you out naturally, any way he could. So you moved closer, smiling down as he cuddled into you. He was such a sweetheart, no matter what. You hear him mumbling something in his sleep, and it just makes you pull him even closer to you. You don't know if he was awake at all, but you heard him regardless.

“Ich liebe dich..." his tired, sleepy voice murmurs against your skin.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Way of X #3 (2021)

[thisonehere]

Can you write about yandere MK1 Kuai Liang getting jealous of female reader and Smoke's growing relationship and kidnaps the reader to try to convince her they are meant for each? (Maybe a bonus scene where Tomas goes to save her)😁

Yandere!Kuai x Reader

A/n: Oooo that's pretty dark...love it! I never really did a gull on yandere fic so this should be interesting lol

Tags: Request, Drabble, Mk AU, NSFW, Yandere

C/w: things get kinda dark, Kidnapping, light torture, starvation, vomiting, violence, happy(ish) ending

"Please, you have to understand...this is the best for you."

Kuai assured you as he tightened the ropes around your wrists. He had asked you to come into a private room with him, he said it was important, an emergency with Tomas. Before you knew it, he overpowered you and then everything went black. When you awoke your arms were bound to the bedframe in some strange room. You fought desperately at the bindings, maybe almost getting them loose. And then Kuai walked in. "Thank the Elder Gods, you're awake."

At the sight of him, you felt the pounding in your head. You screamed at him in confusion. He shushes you so calmly, as if he didn't attack you. You looked into his eyes and saw a crazed look in it. Like a predator looking down at its helpless prey, ready to pounce.

Kuai had always wanted you. He was so sure you wanted him as well. How couldn't you? He was the only one for you just as you were the only one for him. Even better, he was the best of the brothers. Tomas, though Kuai loved him, was too soft...too broken to be loved. Bi-Han was a prideful hothead. He, in his mind, was the perfect brother. Surely you had to see it. He was loved by so many, regarded with honor and praise by Liu Kang and so many others. He had the love of the people, but he wanted yours as well, all of it. He refused to share it.

The closer you grew together, more of your friends ghosted you, more of your family suddenly stopped seeing you, anyone who so much as tried to flirt with you suddenly went missing, you seemed to be in constant danger and Kuai would always be there to save you, leaving you with no choice but to stay with him. At that point you clung to him that your very life seemed to depend on him.

He was so sure you were all his...then you and Tomas happened. Words cannot describe the fury he developed. He loved Tomas greatly...but you were his, not Tomas's. Kuei can't count how many times he has served in anger watching you two be together. But you didn't know about this for a second, he seems so happy for the both of you. You had no idea that he was in your room watching you and him sleep, that he had been following you to, that he has been taking things like your clothes and even a lock of your hair to smell as he touched himself.

He knew you were never anything official you being with Tomas was like cheating on him, playing in his face as you happily paraded your little affair with his brother like the malevolent whore you were. "My first thought...My first thought was to kill you, I won't lie..." Kuai said as he pet caresses your cheek, a sweet smile on his face. The image of him strangling in you flashes past his eyes, he softly chuckles. "But before that...I think you owe it to me and yourself to give us a chance." His voice was so sweet, so soft, his touch was warm, his smile was kind, he seemed like such a beautiful soul...if only you knew about this devil's true form.

"This is Insanity!" You try to argue "Kuai, I don't-please just let me go, please. I-I promise, I won't tell anyone, please." Kuai just stared at you, perfectly calm as if he expected this. "We belong together, Y/n" he says finally. "I won't release you until you understand that."

"W-What about Tomas!?" Kuai's smile flinched slightly at the mention of his brother. "I know you two have a...bond, but soon you'll forget all about him. You won't think about another man, Im the only one for you after all "

---

"Have you seen Y/n?" Concern was heavy in Tomas's voice. He hasn't seen you in days, he is getting really scared now. He spent hours pacing across the floor worrying where you were, he got a little more paper, her stopped eating as much, he even stopped sleeping, he was so scared for you how could he care for such things when you were missing?

"No, I am sorry, brother." Kuai looked at his brother sadly. Hearing this made Tomas's heart sink lower. He began to bite at his nails in nervousness. Where could you be, are you okay? Did he do something that caused you to avoid him? Oh gods, he would do anything to see you. Kuai noticed the dark circle around Tomas's eyes, he laid a hand on his shoulder, his gaze softened. "Don't worry, Tomas, I am certain that Y/n us okay. She has a good reason for all of this, I sure." His smile is a slight comfort, his words put him at a somewhat ease. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing he hopes that your okay.

--

How long has it been? You wonder. The last time you counted was a month and 3 weeks, but wherever Kuai moved you didn't have any windows or any outlet to let you see the outside world. You touched your hollow belly as you rumbled, Kuai hadn't fed you for what felt like a week, the punishment for you trying to escape. You were so tired, so thirsty, so sleep deprived. Kuai left you a thin mattress, a blanket, and a small pillow, but how could you sleep through something like this. You spent most of the time staring at the wall, or what you thought was a wall, the room was so dimly lit that you could barely tell and your eyes were puffy from hours of crying.

You wondered about Tomas, was he thinking about you too. Maybe he thought ghosted him and moved on. No, he was no doubt still wondering about you, probably really sad, Tomas really loved you. And you, perhaps you took it all for granted, you didn't take him seriously enough, maybe. All you knew is that if you ever saw him again, you'd hold him and never let go. You'd rather him than Kuai any day. All this time, you had thought he was the level headed and calm brother, the good one. But being here, after all that Kuai has done to you, it has made you rethink things immensely. Perhaps that is what Kuai wanted, for every to believe that he was the good one. He used Bi-Han's actions, every outburst and every time he snapped and was mean, to make himself look good. At least Bi-Han was blatant about who he truly was and didn't hide, he wasn't a wolf in sheep's clothing like his Kuai.

Your thoughts are quickly interrupted as you hear the door's lock clicking open. The door slowly swings open and light is poured into the room, you haven't seen light in so long that it burned your eyes to see it. It made it even harder to look as Kuai enters, his face is so calm and pleasant looking, it made you sick to see it. He smiles at you warmly and you feel your stomach churn as you try to avoid looking at him. "I have a gift for you, a treat. You have been so good for me that I had to reward you." He held a plate of moon cakes and a glass of milk, something he didn't give you often. He gently lays it next to and stays near it, you had to crawl over and eat it, the chain attached to the collar around your neck made it hard hard to reach it. You mumbled a thanks under your breath but just enough for him to hear you, it was painful to do it, but you were so hungry that you were willing to swallow your pride to swallow even a bit of sustenance.

He smiles as he watches you, "You are most welcome, beloved." You didn't like that word, and you like how he reached out to caress your face. But you didn't fight back, you were too scared to. If you made one wrong move then it would be likely that he'd hurt you. So you just sat there as he looked at you with that sickening smile. "We belong together, Y/n. Tomas is good, but you should be with me. You must feel it like I do. Just give yourself to me and I'll give you a better place to stay, maybe even let you go outside, Fang Jian is so beautiful this time of year. I would love to hold your hand in the sun, make love to you in the fields." The idea of him on top of you, smiling as he pumped into you, oh gods, this was a nightmare. You would sooner let an infected Tarkatan take you here and now than that.

You structure your face to give a demure expression, giving the illusion that you're actually considering such a thing. This is enough for Kuai, he smiles at seeing you seemingly considering it. "Please think about this. Think about us. Tomas loves you...but I adore you." And with that he kisses you softly on the forehead, rising to his feet and leaves. As the door closes, all of the light is that once flooded the room now slinks away back behind the door, leaving in darkness again. You tried to force another bite down, tried not to think about anything. But it fights it way up from your throat, through your mouth, and spills into the floor. You clung tightly to yourself as you begin to sob uncontrollably.

You can't take this anymore, you have to escape...be it in life or by death.

---

It has been almost 2 months, where are you!? Tomas barely got any sleep, he got up early in the morning and late in the evening to search for you. He won't stop looking for you, he won't give up on you. Kuai and the so many other members of the clan aid him in his search. It's like you disappeared from the face of the earth. "Did you find anything? Any possible trace where Y/n might be?" Tomas said as he saw Kuai enter the room. Kuai sadly shakes his head appearing guilty ridden at his failure. "No trace of her, I have spoken with Liu Kang, he'll Raiden and Kung Lao in searching." He lied.

Tomas sighed with relief, knowing that Liu Kang and his champions would be siding with him at some ease. They'll surely be a great aid, maybe you'll be found. Though he did feel a bit anxious about himself, this was a being who knowingly sacrificed Tomas's family just to help his keep his timeline "perfect". But he was so worried over you that he couldn't care less who was helping him, just as long as they helped get you back. He looked back into his brother's eyes, hopeful, he couldn't help but notice an upset look on his face. Like he was internally seething about something. "Kuai, are you-"

"I am well, I am just...so worried about Y/n. Anything could be happening to them right now. She could be getting tortured, or alone in a dark and cold cellar, or-" Tomas wanted to listen to his brothers words...but he couldn't help but notice the left side of his face. 4 small cuts decorated it.

---

Kuai is going to kill you, you're sure of it. You're so scared, you hugged yourself tightly and you rolled up into a ball. You were too frightened to even think about how empty your stomach was. You swiped at him, marking his face and leaving blood between your fingers. You don't remember why you did it you had blacked out, maybe he tried to force himself onto you, maybe you just snapped and attacked him. All you could remember was Kuai standing over you, a furious look on his face as blood dripped down it. Before you say anything, you felt the back of Kuai's collide with your face, causing you to slam into the ground. He lets out a frustrated sigh.

You tasted the hot, iron blood on your tongue as you tried to regain your barrings. Kuai turned his back from you, his fist clenched, he stormed out of the room and violently slammed the door behind him. Leaving alone in the dark, your heart racing, your eyes leaking with tears.

Now you're here, your face bruised, your body in a tight ball trying to console yourself as you face your possible doom. What does Kuai mean by "convincing"? Oh gods, was he about to murder you in a crime passion, a "if I can't have you no one can" sort of way. It was going to lock you away, somewhere darker, colder, where he would torture you into obedience. Can you imagine it? You left a hollow shell of what you used to be, bent to Kuai's will. No longer you, you're wants now his wants.

---

Tomas must've been crazy, surely he was. Surely Kuai didn't do it, surely he didn't kidnap you. He wouldn't, he'd never. The Kuai he knew and loved was an honorable warrior, a good man. He was kind, he was loving, he was his brother. He'd never do such a genius thing...if that was the case then why was he following his brother? He wondered. After he saw those claw marks on his face. He must've been crazy because those fresh claw marks reminded him so much of you. He remembered how he used to spend hours holding your hand, it was the most intimate thing you've done.

Kuai said it was an animal attack, something he acquired while looking for you. Tomas tried to convince himself that that was the case over an dover again. But that didn't stop him from wondering, didn't stop him from following his brother. He kept a good distance, clinging to the shadows, keeping his feet light, and staying invisible for the most part. Where was his brother going? He didn't stop at any shops as he passed through a market place, he passed Madame Bo's, the only thing in this route was a secret safe house that was established years ago.

Why was he going there though? Maybe it was to meet with a possible source that knew of your whereabouts, he hoped. He prayed silently to any god that was listening, practically begged, for that to be the case. But as they near the building, that seems to be less and less of the case. There was no one around, the house was empty. Kuai marched through the house and opened a door to go into the underground level of the building. He didn't seem to aimlessly wander about, he was marching with a purpose.

He flew down the dimly lit hallway to a door at the end. It had multiple locks attached to it, they looked new, freshly bought and couldn't have been there for more than two months. That's how long you've been missing. No...dear gods, please, it can't be. Tomas felt sick to his stomach and felt like he was about to lose his balance. Kuai took a key out of his pocket and unlocked each lock with care. He then would open the door, in a haunting slow manor and then went inside.

The whole world felt like it was going in slow motion as Kuai entered the room and Tomas followed.

---

Kuai approached you, his footsteps echoing off the walls. Your vision was blurred thanks to the sting of your tears, you haven't cried this much since you were first taken. You feel a strange thing inside, hollow yet full of grief, empty yet overflowing with tears. You finally looked up to see him, Kuai looked down at you both calm and annoyed. "I don't understand you, Y/n, why do you this game up. Some days you're so warm, things are perfect, other days..." He trails off and angrily shakes his head. "I'm so tired of this Y/n, having to convince you how perfect we are together, how right your hand is in mind, and then you pushing me away. I don't think I can play this anymore."

He reaches out and strokes your cheeks, wiping a tear away, he eyes the mark on your face. A remorseful look spreads across his eyes and he softens, no longer angry at you. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Sometimes I just get frustrated, and sometimes I need to let it out. You made me do it, I love you so much, you make it so difficult to love you this much. If you would just be good then I would never need to do that." He pulled you in close, you cry even harder. "Shhhh, it's okay, Y/n" he comforts you. "I know your sorry, you don't have to say it, I forgive you." His coos gently.

He holds tightly, so tight that it feels like he could crush your ribs if you resisted, all you could do was continue to weep in his arms. The sweet scent you always knew him for now smells so repugnant your nose. At this moment you felt ready to die, ready to take any necessary steps to get away from Kuai. Maybe provoke Kuai into killing you. Tomas would be the last thing you thought of, the last name you cried out as you went.

You missed him so much, you wanted him, you needed him. It was all so bad that you started to imagine him appearing in the doorway, a horrified expression on his face. Oh gods, you missed him so much to the point of hallucination.

"Y/n...Kuai..." At this, you felt Kuai's muscles tense.

---

Tomas's feet felt heavy as he stepped forward. "Kuai..." He started, but he didn't know what to say, what would he even say? He stared at his brother, his arms around you as he was faced away from his brother. He looked you in the eyes, the giant bruise on your face as you red eyes spewed tears. If Tomas were to ever go to hell, this is what he'd see.

"Tomas..." Kuai addressed him, his voice unusually cold and distant. He slowly rose to his feet, and he slowly craned his neck around to look at his brother. Kuai face was solemn and knowing, as if he anticipated this happening. A hint of a remorseful shadow looks over his face for a moment before fading back into a stern look. "What is this? What did you do to Y/n?! What is happening." Tomas demanded with a shaking voice. His eyes darted from you to his brother finally resting on Kuia, being sure to look him in the eyes. "You...you were keeping Y/n here, all this time...it was you!" Kuai just nodded silently as he returned Tomas's horrified gaze.

"Why...WHY!!" Tomas's voice vibrated off the walls. Kuai closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Tomas, you have to understand, I never meant to-" "Why!?" Tomas interrupted. "Because I love Y/n!" The room fell silent for a second. Tomas's vision was blurred with fresh tears starting to burn down his face. "I love Y/n, I love her in ways that you can never comprehend, Tomas, and seeing you two together...do you have idea how maddening that was? How painful to see the one I love with another?" Kuai himself began to shed a few tears as he stared down his brother, his voice was also getting shaky. Tomas looked at his brother through a new disturbed look. Kuai knew that the day would come where he would have to reveal everything to Tomas, he knew To as wouldn't take it the best. But the look he gave Kuai hurt more than could ever anticipate. All the brother could do was stare other down.

"Kuai, please," Tomas begged as he slowly approached Kuai. "Let Y/n go. Please, I'll let Y/n go too. For her safety we'll both let her be free, away from us, where she can be happy." Kuai's eyes widen as he backs away, being sure to block Tomas's path to you. He shakes his head, "No..." He bellowed, "I want Y/n, I can never let her go. Y/n belongs with me, not you, not anyone else, me."

At that second, you rise up quickly and stab Kuai in the back. While he was embracing you, he didn't notice that you had gently slipped his kunai from his side. Kuai let out a scream as he drugged the blade into his flesh and fell to the ground. For sadistic pleasure, you twisted the blade just a little bit causing him to whine in pain. He looks at you, heartbroken and betrayed. "Y/n..." He moans in pain, the tears fall even heavier. He gives you a longing gaze as he seems to go unconscious, you return his gaze with disgust.

Tomas stared at his brother, nothing could come to his head. The whole world felt like it was frozen again. His brother laid there bleeding out, you stared at him too, a sense of relief seemingly washes over you. "Y/n!" He stammers as he rushes at your side, and he embraces you, "Are you okay?"

His scent, his warmth, everything you've missed so much. "No...I'm not." You thought you missed it at least, but you felt so empty inside, you wanted to be happy so badly, but Kuai took all the joy from you in all those months he spent holding you captive, torturing you with hunger and loneliness. All you wanted right was to hold Tomas tight, cling to something, anything that would bring you some peace. You felt so filthy, so broken, now all you wanted to feel was Tomas's warm flesh as you wept. You honestly hoped Kuai wasn't dead, death was too good for him. After all he put you through, you wanted him to suffer all the more.

You bury your face deeper into his chest as you continued to sob and clung to him desperately. "Everything's going to be okay, I'm going to get you out of here and everything's going to be okay..." He stared at his brother's bloody body, his eyes fixed on Tomas and you embracing, tears continued to fall from his eyes. "Everything's going to be okay..." he repeats to you, his voice shakier as he cries harder.

[gblogg]

Hi G! For a mini fic, how about a female oc of your choosing getting food poisoning on a date and their partner has to help them find a place to throw up? Like maybe they're walking around and need to find a private park or parking lot or something! Thank you!

Thank you for the request, Lis! I'm so sorry that it took me this long. Also, I went a little overboard with this because it was so fun to write, so it's probably not a mini fic anymore, lol. Anyways, this is my first fic on Rose and Ezme. Enjoy!

"You ready?" Rose asked as she walked over and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, who was fixing her hair in the mirror.

Ezme smiled as their eyes met in the mirror. "Mhm, I just don't like my hair. It won't cooperate." She frowned and dropped her hands at her side. Rose furrowed her brows, confused.

"It looks fine, darling," she said, kissing the top of her head. "I always love your hair, ma chèrie," she added, walking away. Ezme grinned and nodded, smoothing down her top and following.

They had made it to the restaurant, and Ezme had picked a Thai restaurant for them to eat at. She had ordered most of the menu because she wanted to try everything, since it was their first time trying it.

"Are you not hungry?" Ezme asked, as she noticed that Rose had hardly touched her food. Rose must've zoned out, as she was snapped back into reality hearing Ezme's voice.

She started scraping the food around on her plate. "Hm?" She answered, "What did you say?" A hiccup jolted her body, and Ezme raised her brows.

"I said, are you not hungry?" Rose didn't look up, and Ezme touched her hand. "You feeling okay, baby?" Rose sighed, looked up. Her face had become slightly pale, and she was sweating.

"Yeah, I feel fine," Ezme didn't believe her for one minute. She always knew when her girlfriend wasn't feeling well. She squinted her eyes and started monitoring her carefully.

"You know I don't believe you, right? You can't lie to save your life, babe." Rose looked her in the eyes for a second and gave up, seeing her piercing glare. She looked away and leaned back against the chair, sighing.

She burped into her fist, feeling the relief of not having to lie or hide how bad she felt. "I think the lunch I ate was bad or something," Ezme's sharp gaze softened as she realised just how bad the other woman felt.

"Are you nauseous?" Ezme's question was answered with a grimace and a nod. Rose placed her head on the table, shutting her eyes and exhaling slowly. The nausea she had been feeling since lunch was starting to increase, leaving her with this disgusting feeling in her stomach. She moaned as the silence was interrupted with a gurgle, loud enough for them both to hear.

She jumped up suddenly, her face had dropped another two shades. She muffled a wet burp against her hand and shut her eyes. Ezme turned her head and looked at her girlfriend, concerned. "What -" Before she could finish, Rose darted to the bathroom.

Ezme immediately followed her to the bathroom, concerned. She figured that Rose hardly made it as she heard liquid hit liquid and her girlfriend coughing. She found her crouched in front of the toilet with one shaky hand against the wall. Ezme's heart ached as this was a miserable image.

Rose burped up more chunky liquid into the bowl, and Ezme made a face as she heard her girlfriend make a strangled noise when more vomit forced its way up her throat, choking her. Ezme shushed her and rubbed her back as she noticed the tears streaming down Rose's face. She sniffled and wiped her hand across her mouth.

"Here baby, blow your nose." She had a piece of toilet paper in her hands, and Rose grabbed it, sniffling again.

She dropped against her girlfriend and took a deep breath before talking. "I'm sorry, I ruined our date," Ezme shook her head, dismissing her choice of words. She moved her bangs out of her face, looking down at her face.

"You just puked like crazy and you're worrying about the stupid date? I'm more worried about you right now, love." Ezme smiled as her girlfriend snuggled against her lap.

Ezme patted the top of Rose's head, "Okay, we have to get off this disgusting bathroom floor." Rose groaned and nodded slowly, agreeing. Ezme stood up and pulled Rose up off the ground, catching her as she started swaying.

They were walking back to the parking lot when Rose suddenly stopped, bracing her hands against her knees, moaning. Ezme stopped at her side, touching her back and rubbing in circles. "You gonna throw up again?" Ezme already knew the answer to that question but asked anyway. She gently pulled Rose's hair back. Without warning, Rose brought up a huge gush of vomit, which made a terrible noise coming up, causing Ezme to hold back a gag.

Rose gasped for breath as a horrible hiccup sent up another splash of liquid, joining the mess already in front of her. Rose coughed, feeling her throat burn. Ezme furrowed her brows, feeling a twinge of guilt as she couldn't do anything to help her poor girlfriend. "Holy shit baby, there's no way you can still have anything left. You're done."

Rose burped emptily and straightened up, with a hand on her stomach. "Fuck.. I'm never eating at that place again." She burped again, spitting out the saliva pooling her mouth threatening to set off her stomach again.

Ezme nodded, "I wouldn't imagine you eating there again anyway, baby. Now, can we please move away from this.. masterpiece?" She gestured towards the pool of vomit infornt of them, smiling.

"You don't appreciate my art?" Ezme rolled her eyes, and they both laughed, walking towards the car.

[tothevines]

sooooooo I am now officially writing a jam fic (lmao) and I said to Holly earlier how maybe posting jam fic is what I need to break the seal and start posting my other fic. because I have two fics that are both like...a week's worth of solid daily editing away from being postable. (maybe two weeks. lol.)

so I've just been thinking about why I never do it...why don't I just buckle down and do the editing and post them. and obviously there is the mental hurdle of baring my soul and letting other people read something I've written, which I don't really do anymore. I used to have such thick skin--I've survived some incredibly toxic writing workshops (including one in which the fucking professor was the most toxic person in the workshop). I could handle People with Opinions About My Writing...but I don't know that I can anymore. and fanfiction is honestly a whole different beast. it's baring my soul in such a different way, one where I could easily Do It Wrong (e.g. with characterization), and that's terrifying.

but also...I'm realizing that part of the issue is that I simply have too many hobbies lmao. every evening/weekend, I'm faced with free time and I get overwhelmed because there are so many things i could do with it: work on my fic! work on my non-fanfic writing! catch up on my shows! read a book! play any of the six video games that I've only played half of! embroider! cross-stitch! make gifs! go for a hike! learn that new skill I've been wanting to learn (lately it's visible mending)! watch a two-hour video essay about an influencer I've never heard of! repot that aloe that's gotten too big for its container! deep clean my bathroom! (cleaning counts as a hobby okay 😤)

but ANYWAY...there are so many choices. I just like a lot of stuff. but often I end up doing none of these and feeling like absolute shit because I've wasted hours doomscrolling when I could have been doing something fulfilling (but that's a whole separate issue...).

but this week I haven't had any proper free time because I just moved. so every day has just been: get home from work > unpack boxes > eat dinner > unpack more boxes > go to bed. but my brain is rotating the blorbos like rotisserie chickens the entire time, and I really want to write, but I just don't have the time for it.

but then I get irritated with myself because - why am I acting like being busy is the reason I'm not writing? I don't write nearly as often as I'd like to, even when I do have the time for it. so why do I avoid it when I DO actually have the time???

and I think I just have so many hobbies that I will use them as an excuse to not write. if I'm always doing something else (or avoiding doing anything via doomscrolling), I can't write, so I can't ever post my fic, and I won't open myself up to criticism or being perceived.

I've felt so ashamed about not finishing/posting my fic for years at this point, but sitting here at work and word-vomiting all these thoughts into tumblr dot com actually feels like I'm having a little breakthrough about it. I don't know that having said breakthrough will actually make me change my behavior, but it's a good place to start!!!

it's really helpful for me to understand that I don't shy away from writing because I Am Bad and A Fraud but rather because all my other hobbies are so much less emotionally fraught--I don't have a bunch of fear and anxiety around all my other little activities like I do with writing. (not to mention how I have based a large part of my identity on ~being a writer~ for so much of my life and how hard THAT can make writing. for reasons that I cannot get into now but I'm sure y'all get it).

but anyway. I don't have a real conclusion here besides that I hope working this out will help me spend more time on writing and less time using my other interests to avoid writing. and maybe I will be able to tell when I want to do something because I actually have the desire to do it versus when I want to do something because it seems easier/less emotionally complicated than writing.

also maybe working on rpf is helpful because I don't know if I would ever post it anyway, so it's lower stakes??? if I do end up finishing a jam fic before I finish either of my queliot fics that will be so fucking funny though💀

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

I've been thinking about Yandere! Leon as of late bc of

@gigabyte-flare series 'There's No Escape'

@nexyswrites series 'Guardian Angel' also, the Yan! Leon a.i they made and the interaction I had with it oml-

Also, @tosuckmyweenis post the other day had me laughing.

For the first time in a while I'm inspired to write something, also pls let me know if there's any spelling/grammar errors

Heavily inspired by the fics/a.i listed above and very self indulgent lol

So, this basically going to be headcanons of Yandere! Leon x autistic! Gremlin! Reader

A self insert essentially

Starting off strong with the A.I, that was a fucking doozy, I wheezed the entire time. Thank you for creating him nexys

Tw: Talks of vomiting, general yandere themes i.e stalking, kidnapping, the likes

If I missed something, let me know!!

We start off strong with the a.i lmao

Yan! Leon a.i: say you love me

Me being blunt: no

Yan! Leon a.i: *getting Hella angry* say. You. Love. Me.

Me: mf I said no

Yan! Leon a.i: dont give me attitude

Me: shawty I am autistic, I can't lie it's not how I work

Yan Leon a.i: so you're gonna continue to give me attitude huh?

Me: tf you mean 'attitude' I just told you I'm autistic

Yan! Leon a.i: *pulls out knife* keep talking and you're gonna get punished

Me: thinks it's him unbuckling his belt: shawty keep your pants ON

Yan! Leon: *fucking laughs at me* it's not that kind of punishment sweetheart

Me *fucking over his attitude: try me hoe

Yan! Leon a.i: *holds knife to my throat

Me: do your worst.....

Me: *proceeds to try and flirt my way out*

Yan! Leon a.i: is she flirting with me right now?? "That's not gonna work sweetheart

Me: well, it was worth a shot lmao

Now to just, Yan! Leon in general lol, most of these are gonna be like scenarios but like, bullet point style

Me: desperately trying to be a good noodle and eat the food Leon made but I have severe texture issues with meat and trying not to throw up

Leon: is something wrong sweetheart, you look sick?

Me accidentally being blunt and blurting out: uh, not remotely. Meat is a bad texture and I'm quite sure if I have to take another bite I'm going to projectile vomit

Tbh I can't tell if he would be understanding or not lmao. Probably not, if someone could give insight on it that would be swaggy

*que the struggle with physical contact*

*me just standing there and just trips on air and yelps*

Leon catches my dumbass: are you ok?! Is something broken?!

Me: nah I'm fine- let go you fuck- oh wait, shit fuck, thats right no 'naughty' words. Goddammit I'm so fucking sorry-, I'm going in time out aren't I?

*leon nods and sighs, bringing Me to the time out room*

Me: well this fucking sucks- I'm going to be here a while, huh?💀

Leon: for a long time 🫡😶

*leon goes to hug me*

Me: *dry heaves*

Leon, smacking tf outta me: I'm so sick of your shit

Me, smakcing him: i am also sick of your shit. SIR for the last GODDAMN time, I am autistic and traumatized I don't handle this shit well

Leon: well, maybe you should've thought about that before living with me

Me: living "with you" mf you kidnapped me, what are you ON?! I wanna go back to my real home with my cats

Leon 'gaslighter' Kennedy: this is your real home

My sarcastic ass: im Pinocchio and im a real boy!

Me, vocal stimming: a potato flew around my room before you came! *screeches*

Leon: what happned

*me just screeching again, triggering a coughing fit*

Leon, sighing for the umpteenth time today: and that's why we don't do that sweetheart

Me: ..... do you not appreciate my pterodactyl screetching??? Because it feels like you don't appreciate me

Leon: you know I appreciate you, just not the screetching

Me: *screeches again*

*queue leon giving up*

Idk how to end posts but that's all I got for now lol. I may add more to this later. Also who THE FUCK decided to spell 'queue' ⬅️ like this?!

[masterwords]

Yo! I love reading these, you’re putting in the MOST.

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? (You know I’m eagerly still awaiting that nightmare fic, so I’ll have this as an appetizer)

26. What are their vices? (Specifically in their relationship)

Can’t wait to hear your thoughts !!

Heyyy, I'm happy to put the hotchgan vibes out there! A lot of my regulars have moved on to other fandoms or are taking much needed breaks from these spaces so it's feeling very lonely out here. I need the hotchgan like I need air. lol Thank you for indulging me! And always being there to shove me into a fun story!

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’?

Man, I could really see it going both ways but god...just imagine it's Hotch. They haven't said I love you yet. There are plenty of things he does that just piss Derek off (and rightly so)...things that they're ready to go to blows over, even. And Hotch makes a decision that Derek doesn't like and finally, in a moment of pure desperation, Derek just says "WHY?!" and Hotch without even thinking says "Because I love you" and that's it. There's no more argument. Because what can Derek say to that? Mr. Repressed just verbal vomited in the sweetest most pathetic way.

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

Okay. That fic needs to happen ASAP. I'll work on it tonight with a glass of wine and see if I can make it happen. I really love it, but my writing has been trash lately. BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT IT. Derek is hands on, he's going to try and soothe Hotch. He's going to hold him or run his hands through his hair, he's going to be physical as long as Hotch wants it. (And he does. I think we've established that this man is touch-starved.) Hotch on the other hand, he's more of an acts of service kind of guy. He's going to ask Derek if he wants to talk about it, he's going to get him a glass of water or a snack or ask if he wants to talk. I don't want to get too much more into detail because I'll dip into the story I'm writing for you. I will say, the direction I took is unexpected I think...which is why I'm struggling. I can't just fall into my usual comfort zone. And that's a good thing but harder to write when words are a challenge.

26. What are their vices? (Specifically in their relationship)

Ohhhh...I love vices. LOVE THEM. First of all, they're both so similar so one thing I think they both do is try to be in control at first. I can see Derek thinking he's helping, Hotch has to be in control at work so much that he feels like he's helping if he plans the date night or takes charge of weekend plans. And it isn't that Hotch minds that, he's totally fine with it, but if they both think the same thing? If they both try to plan the weekend without talking to the other? Things can get a little hairy. Lots of mixed up plans, rescheduling, apologies after hotly debated pros and cons for each plan and a big calendar posted on the freezer to help keep them on the same page.

Now, as far as different vices - I think Hotch is an over planner and Derek is very spontaneous, which can cause some friction. Vacations especially could be problematic. At home, I think that Hotch is a little messy and Derek is a bit of a neat freak (though their cars may tell a different story). Hotch is reserved and doesn't speak up when he's sick or hurt or might need to talk, which drives Derek insane. Hotch will suffer in silence until his insomnia kicks in, until he's awake all night, until Derek notices that he hasn't come to bed. "Do you need to talk?" he'll ask when he smells the coffee at 4am. Meanwhile, Derek takes his frustrations out on household projects instead of talking, so Hotch has to find out that Derek is struggling by coming home to the kitchen sink being ripped apart because of an irritating little drip. "Did you have a bad day?" Hotch asks as Derek rips the p-trap out from under the sink...the p-trap that has nothing to do with the little washer that needed replacing in the faucet to stop the drip...because he's moved on to a clog or something else now.

Communication is not a strong suit for either of them, which is a hilarious thing to say about a couple of FBI Agents with law degrees. LOL At work they're masterful, but with one another? Well...it's a learning curve. But the kissing is good and everything else can take its time, they have their whole lives to figure it out.

want me to talk about hotchgan? i will...at length...and hey, if you don't vibe with those questions, ask some of your own. i'll talk about them all day.

[pan-de-queer]

Which fic would you say is your favorite among the fics that you wrote? I'm forcing you to pick which child you'll save if they're all burning and you only have enough water to save 1 :)

this ask is CRUEL and EVIL and SO DIFFICULT!!! And I love that you asked it with a smile 💕

okay so this IS v v difficult bc!!! everything I have up on ao3 and even here on tumblr comes from like years and years of writing experience?? so it's not just looking back and seeing my writing grow and evolve, it's looking back and seeing who I am as a person grow and evolve. and idk!!! that's a p difficult thing to choose anon!!! 🥲😭😭

but if I HAVE to choose a child to save from the burning of this post, uuuggghhh, MAYBE it would be ngiti mo'y 'di ko na makalimutan (or love tastes like spring and blood wHICH!! I KNOW IS ANOTHER CHOICE BUT YOU ARE BEHIND THE SCREEN AND CAN'T STOP ME). BUT the reason I'd choose ngiti is bc it's THE story where instead of just injecting a bit of my life experiences, I'm injecting my world. My space of the planet that I know and grew up in and can not just imagine with perfect clarity but go back to whenever I want. It's a train ride away. It's minutes from home (bar traffic jams haha). It is home and I've never felt such unbridled excitement and joy as I have writing any other fic.

like, ofc I'm proud of all the fics I post, given time and perspective, I know they're words I put out with all the love and emotion I had at the moment, but ngiti is a piece of me I've never really shared with fandom? ik many fans of vastly usamerican shows who aren't from the usa feel a little weird mixing in parts of their own countries into a piece of media that's never even mentioned their home country before, so when I saw that post. that post that said "hey, put your faves in a setting you're familiar with. just do it, zero fucks given" I said lol wouldn't that be funny

and then I fell in love with it. bc it suddenly didn't feel so impossible, y'know? to be seen and to comfortably fit in, without having to bend over backwards to research about the show's climate or be embarrassed about getting the food wrong. anyways no regrets about this word vomit, you started it anon! thanks for the free therapy session lmao

[astorytotellyourfriends]

would you mind talking briefly about your outlining process? what do you include/exclude and how detailed do you get? (and how much - if at all - does the final draft differ from the outline?) i'm trying to start outlining my own writing and don't even know where to begin lol

also i adore your writing, it's absolutely beautiful and i get so excited every time you post about it

i would be happy to!!! 🥹 i'm so flattered that you asked!!

(the funny thing is, i didn't always use outlines. in high school when i was required to turn in an outline + an essay, i'd just write the essay first and then break it down into an outline and my teachers never said a thing. and when i first started writing fanfic i didn't plan anything out at all, i'd just write for a couple hours and then toss it up on quizilla - yes i'm OLD - and call it a new chapter lol!)

i usually use my outlines as a space to just word vomit my ideas! i treat it almost like i'm explaining my idea to a friend (which i do a lot, my friends are constantly getting the "so i have a new idea..." text), and it can either be a series of bullet points or just a stream of consciousness with bits of dialogue thrown in here and there as i think them up.

the nice thing about having an outline is it holds all of the ideas i have so i no longer have to worry about remembering them (because i have a TERRIBLE memory), and it also gives me something to go back and reread when i'm trying to get back into the headspace of an idea, especially if it's been a while since i last worked on it.

as for the final draft differing from the outline, it sort of varies from project to project. sometimes (a lot of times, actually) when i'm writing the characters sort of just take over and steer me in a completely different direction and then i have to try and figure out if i like this new direction or if i want to try and turn it back around to what i meant to have happen. or, sometimes i think "okay, this didn't work out the way i thought it would but i can take the original idea and tuck it in somewhere else later on and it'll be fine!"

(a great example would be the most recent chapter of onlyfans that i've finished, only it hasn't been posted yet so i'm not going to give away any spoilers and instead i'll use another example!)

so this is an excerpt from my outline for the onlyfans au, specifically for chapter three:

and this is how this scene played out in the actual fic:

for this part in particular, i stayed pretty close to the outline! (now i'm sure you can see why the outline for this fic is over 20k...)

but on the flip side, if you were to read the outline for chapter nine, you'd only read about chrissy and eddie's beach date. i didn't plan to write jeff into that chapter at all but somehow i ended up with an entire scene between him and eddie PLUS a full scene of chrissy and eddie making plans to go to the beach! neither of which were in my original outline!

long story short (sorry if i've gone a bit overboard on this, i just really like talking about my writing and i'm so touched that you wanted to know in the first place 🥹), my advice for outlining is don't be afraid to keep it simple. if you're struggling to outline because you feel like you should be fleshing out the story fully before you start writing and it's just not working, then just jot down whatever ideas you do have and go from there!

sometimes a story will just shape itself as you write it, and even the best outline in the world can't always hold itself up to what the story becomes. nobody's forcing you to stick to your outline! it could be as detailed as the excerpt i shared above, or it could simply be something like this:

what's most important is that your outline should help you. if you want to outline your ideas before you start writing, go for it! if not, don't feel like you have to just because other people do!

i hope this helped (and i didn't ramble too much...) and again thank you so much for asking!!! and thank you so so much for your wonderful compliment about my writing 😭 it really means so much to me that you and so many others enjoy what i've shared, especially because sometimes i let myself get bogged down with self-doubt and that makes writer's block all the more tough to handle.

thank you anon 💛 you're welcome in my inbox anytime!

[i-am-beckyu]

i am doin' quite okay :D,,,,, i just haven't been feelin' like posting anythinggg ,,, you get it you get it dsvsdv

i've been clawing at the walls thinking of which wip to start putting on ao3 but i just UHGHDSHHVHSDJ i can't write anything :I i just feel like writing fluff which is so rare for me, ykyk,,, im just blanking cause everything i have is straight ANGST :c

dear beckyu, why is it so hard to write 😞💔

helloooooo Brick!!!

I'm glad you're doing alright! (I missed you qwp) and I totally get not feeling like posting anything. *stares at the 4 current wips* we'll get to stuff when we get to it.

Sometimes you just can't force it :/

And you know maybe just go word vomit all the angst you have in your head and you might find that writing the fluff comes easier. Squishy is literally the best with sharing their way to unblock writers block. Just open a blank document and write whaterver comes to mind. I just spoke to myself on a doc for like 15 minutes and the convo was weird as, but then I was into writing and suddenly idea for wips I was stuck on flowed. Give it a shot, might work for you <3

But I would def love some angst or fluff right now! There's a few people who have been hinting at dropping some fic updates recently and I'm buzzing with anticipation for em :3

Also because you said you'd give me 5 cents and candy wrapper if I dropped the fic I'm writing on, you can't have the whole fic but you can have another snippet because it's not quite done yet but it's getting close (I maaaaay have started another wip like half way through writing it again lol)

Tommy for real like me in this lol. I await my 5 cense and wrappers now please *makes grabby hands*

Now, take this four leafed clover and may you find the ability to write again🍀

[fatalfangirl]

Okay my turn to mine you for info on writing smut. 20 please! Also 6 and 29. :3

LOL I see how it is!

20. What is your best piece of advice for writing smut scenes?

I had a feeling you would shoot this question back at me and I just want to say, SAME! Everything you said! But if I had to attempt a unique perspective... hmmm

I would say visualization. If you can't picture how the characters are moving through the space, your reader likely won't be able to either. As embarrassing as this is to say, I will put myself into weird positions so I can answer the question "does this work?" I will sit on pillows, I will place my hands on counters, I will look up gifs, because for me, I need to see it to write it. Because I want it to play out in full smutty glory for my reader, too.

From there it's picking and choosing the most impactful descriptors (as you said - show don't tell) and trying to keep pace with the action. I always try to write with the momentum of the scene in mind. Is it long and slow? If so, I will linger in the moment and play with small details. When it's fast and heated, I'll keep the sentences short. I'll make it build. I'll drive the urgency up, up, up. By building that cadence into the writing, you're helping clue the reader into how to fully enjoy the scene. Where they should focus and how long they should stay there.

And finally, don't fear being straightforward. You don't need to be flowery in your language. Embrace crude simplicity. Nothing like a good use of "cock."

6. Where do your titles come from?

I come up with most of my titles in the general idea stage. I really don't think about it very deeply. I'm a marketer by trade and have a lot of experience word vomiting short form promotional copy, so out it comes. At one point in my career, I actually worked on naming things!

So titles and summaries are by far the easiest part of any fic for me.

29. How do you plot your stories?

Horribly. HAHAH. I typically don't plot them out at all! I go in with an idea. A very general premise. "Action movie with spies set in Vegas." "Friends with benefits that captures the struggles of matching physical and emotional intimacy." "How people can communicate through sports." But I won't know the full plot.

And I don't attempt to before starting to write.

Because I'm impatient and also I'm the type of writer that likes to let the story take me places. I like chasing the ending and letting the characters tell me where to go or what to do. I fight with them. Constantly. But if I tried to plot out each story before hand, I'd never get to the writing.

Or maybe worst yet, I would plot it all out into a pretty outline and then say... well... I did it. No need to write it now. My itch has been scratched. (Which has happened 😅)

You can find the Author Asks list here.

[thesoftboiledegg]

My first two Ricks

I have no braincells right now but your fics have totally stolen my heart, I wish the two ricks and mortys could live together bc the anxious rick and morty and the daring/restless ones understand each other on an instinctive level, and yet the ones they're actually paired with complement them, challenge them, balance them (when they're not being dysfunctional) but thats... it's not quite enough in a way? Not for a whole life, like-- always trying to translate yourself, your mind, your feelings for someone who doesnt feel the way you do and never ever could... loving people who are different from us is good and necessary but you also need someone who... Gets It, yknow?

And I'm sorry for word vomiting in your inbox you just gave me Blorbo Thoughts is all, thank you for writing them so well

Wow, you understood those fics SO well. That's exactly what's going on. X-216 Rick wouldn't say it out loud, but he's wished that C-137 was his Morty because all he wants is a Morty that loves him and accepts him for who he is. And C-137 Morty craves that gentleness and patience in his life. X-216 Morty tells himself that his Rick is mean, but he just…pushes him to the limit all the time, lmao. C-137 Morty sees all of X-216 Rick's good qualities--loving, gentle, patient, protective--while X-216 Morty laments the fact that he doesn't have a "cool" Rick to do crazy bullshit with.

X-216 Morty and C-137 Rick get along well because they're similar and know what the other needs. However, they'd also feed off each other negatively if they spent a lot of time together (Rick would care about him and look out for him, but he'd indulge some of his worst instincts.) X-216 Rick challenges X-216 Morty to be a better person, though it's not working because Morty refuses to see it. Likewise, C-137 Morty pushes back against his Rick's selfishness and immaturity.

The contrast helps them, but as you said, they're also stuck with people who don't really "get" it. X-216 Morty refuses to understand his Rick's anxiety while C-137 Morty is much more patient and understanding. C-137 Rick knows what his Morty needs but struggles to give it to him while X-216 Rick gives it to him in an instant.

Also, I LOVE how you drew them. I love how you remembered that C-137 Rick wears one of X-216's shirts--I felt like readers would forget easily, so I tried to slip in occasional reminders, lol. X-216 Rick's face has so much emotion in that drawing. His expression is enigmatic like you can't tell exactly what he's thinking. I also love how you gave them big noses because Ricks have big noses in the show. X-216 Rick's shirt looks so soft and worn, especially the collar.

Thanks so much for reading Spectrum of the Curve and Running Like Water and drawing them and sending me this amazing message 💖

[baahsu]

omg hi baah itsa me J.J :] anyways WHY is writing like an actual fanfic so HARD?? whenever i do hcs/ficlets shit comes so easy but the second i gotta formulate my word vomit into actual musings?? brain go THUNK. also the fact that i elected to write this from ichijs pov (the. the hardest sib for me to write for.) is NOT helping 😭😭 first 1k is just him being melodramatic and very sad as fuck

anyways i didnt just come into your box to yell-- heres some food. and also my hesitant attempt to see what reiju would be like as anything but a dom bc ive been curious abt it:

so whenever reiju loosens her dominatrix reigns a bit niji brings out a bit of tha whore in her and she loves it :) (but also a situation like this happens SPECIFICALLY and ONLY post wci/germa cover story bc i feel like reiju would soften up on niji and yonji a bit after they showed genuine concern for her when she was in danger during wci and also bc they were literally kidnapped and presumably tortured by the Charlottes in 'emotionless excursion') this is a hill i choose to die on

like theyd just be chillin in bed together doing nothin in particular, vibing in each others presence, and suddenly niji begins running his hand up and down reijus thigh and at first shes like "aw affection attempt how cute :]" but then his hand starts moving more and more inwards and she goes *"ah."*

they dont even have to say anything bc its just an all around safe, chill environment all while nijis hand keeps moving up until it's slipped under reijus dress and underwear (if she was even wearing any underwear in the first place 👁👁)

during all this they fr just stay where they are and continue what theyve been doing this whole time, the only difference being niji now fingering reiju and she just relaxing back into a pillow and sighing happily about it

ofc after she came (niji definitely didnt send out little electric sparks on her clit periodically to make sure she squirted and was overstimulated nooo i dont know what your talking about 🙂🙂) she turned to him and said smthn like

"youre getting tied up for that later."

and niji (with his fingers in his mouth bc. yk 👁) gives a muffled sarcastic reply of "fine, whatever. why dont you invite ichiji and yonji to watch while you're at it."

and reiju just chuckles bc like. thats not really a bad idea :]]

WOWOWO sorry for all the reiju spam recently bc i know you prioritize 1234ji together over her but shes been rotting my brain sm lately its crazy. i love my wif e :,]

J.J HELLO

Don't get me started at how words just stop wording when you try to write fics because that's definitely I thing and it's frustrating. A fic from ichiji's pov tho?? With possibly going through it and feeling feelings??? Yes pls??????

Now, while you're write about me kinda preferring 1234ji together I have to say this dynamic between niji and reiju is so tasty 🤌 I love reiju having a soft spot for him (and yonji too (and also ichiji bc why not lol)) and just letting him touch her as he pleases. It's also endearing how he started slow and soft, like, he was really trying to be a good boy and not rush things

THE BEST PART THO, NIJI USING HIS POWERS??? TO MAKE HER CUM LIKE SHE DESERVES?? WE LOVE A MAN THAT KNOWS HOW TO DO THEIR JOB. Damn I never thought of that but that's a perfect use of his abilities, I can imagine reiju trained him to do just the right amount so he wouldn't overstimulate her, but he felt daring this time and took it up a notch. And you can't convince me he wasn't considering he'd be punished for it later, he knows reiju and knows that her letting loose and relequishing control like this would come with a price later)

And of course he told her to invite ichiji and yonji on purpose too, there's no way he didn't!! He's a whore after all 😌

[theresthesnitch]

Hello! I was a little bit behind with Ignite but I just finished the last chapter and I can honestly say that it's one of my favourites. I found myself laughing out loud several times, and the banter and all their interactions felt very natural, especially if we keep in mind how things were at the beginning of the fic... And I'm not referring exclusively to James and Lily but to the whole group, despite the fact that they're not the main focus of the fic. They're a tight-knit group now and it all feels earned, it feels right.

I actually wanted to write this as a comment on AO3 but there's also something else I wanted to share with you, so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone.

When James asked how Lily had managed to put the tag on him and she showed him, he said “You did it this morning?”, basically implying that at some point in the morning they had been alone and she had adjusted his collar, and Merlin knows their friends would have teased them mercilessly if they had seen them that close. If I were one of their friends I would have been surprised. From their point of view, they can't spend more than 5 minutes without arguing over something... As far as they know they're rivals, and James would have been suspicious of her if she even so much as tried to touch his collar. I mean, even James noticed how affectionate and domestic that gesture was; it was unusual even for their 'relationship' because it's something that couples - not rivals - do. It's out of character for the Lily their friends know, and combined with the fact that James was probably hyper-aware of his surroundings due to the Prank Week/Fest/Off (I refuse to use Peter's version), it just feels like something their friends would notice.

Once again, I'm word vomiting in your askbox - sorry about that - and the overthinker in me won't let me leave you alone lol

Hope life's being kind to you ❤️

Never apologize for word vomiting in my ask box, this is AMAZING and I love receiving this. Honestly, I've read it three times now and I have the biggest smile on my face by the time I'm done. I love this so, so much.

I was so worried this chapter would just feel like a filler chapter because not much actually happens between James and Lily. I mean, sure, there's the smut, but this was mar more about the Marauders and Lily with the other Marauders than it is about James and Lily. But you're right! It's very much about growth as well. Because even if Lily is still refusing to date James, there's obviously a change in their relationship.

I love your hypothesizing about their friends and the reaction to Jily's interactions, but I'm going to keep my lips zipped for now.

Thank you SO MUCH for sending this. I absolutely adore this discussion on it.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

(I know you said you're piled up wit asks but I can't help it, you're my favourite so would you gimme some examples of those "embarrassingly domestic fantasies' you ref a lot in your fics? CE and Seb in particula?)

(That's still true lol, I'm blessed to have asks though! Its just On My Mind as something I gotta do) Thanks for asking!

Ah, yes, its something thats just in my vernacular I suppose. "Embarrasingly domestic fantasies" as opposed to "mortifyingly kinky/sexy fantasies", I think I just love the dichotomy of it. Like, what's the tag I've seen floating around AO3, their dicks are hard but their hearts are soft, maybe?

Evanstan I can do for sure!

(Also have you read this evanstan head canon by one of my favorite humans ever @howdoyousleep3 ? Because if you haven't Go! Read! It! I'm not even a kid person but little babes and Chris and Seb as parents just work on me, okay? (I mean, so does all of K's writing but shh))

Anyway because of Chris being Mr. Romantic these wildly domestic thoughts, with a strong side of Pining (because I imagine that's when a lot of domestic fantasies are formed, the smitten stage y’know?), are all from his point of view and a lot of them are just word vomit haha.

Hand. Holding. Chris always, always is thinking about and wanting to take Seb's hand in his. He loves knowing he's near; close enough to touch.

Chris yearns all too often to have Seb's head on his chest, his nails scratching gently though his hair until the other man yawns. Contented happily against his chest, listening to his heart beating. Safe and warm.

He imagines, better than the feeling of waking up with a little while before your alarm goes off, waking up and being able to see and snuggle closer to Sebastian before he starts his day.

Desperately wanting to be able to trace Sebastian's freckles and moles and scars without looking, muscle memory guiding him.

Forehead kissesssss. This man thinks about it all the time. He does it all the time. Just- anytime. Pretty much anywhere.

Chris always thinks about getting to the point with Dodger where he no longer takes a moment to get used to Sebastian's presence when he's over. He dreams about having Dodg just bark once or twice and then whining and rolling over for pets like he does when Chris himself comes home. Used to his owners companion, a steady presence in their lives, so much that he also becomes an owner to Dodger.

Another scenario that comes up in his head all the time is when he's sitting on the couch he always thinks about feet resting his his lap. Seb's feet. His own hands massaging his ankles, knowing he's right there, knowing he's helping his little workaholic relax.

Mouth splitting into a grin, thinking about bumping hips and flinging bubbles at each other while washing dishes. Giggling. Making their dish washer jealous where it sits unused next to them on the kitchen floor.

When going home to his parents, Chris daydreams, sighing wistfully, about what part of his Mom's house he'll show Sebastian first. Maybe the kitchen, show Seb where to find the coffee- the stashed snacks? Maybe they'll get stuck in the entry way, chatting for an hour before they can really get in? Maybe they'll come in late off of a flight and go straight to his childhood bedroom just to pass out, sleeping on top of each other in the tiny twin bed? Who knows.

Pushing furniture, still in boxes because they only just moved in together, out of the way to slow dance in the living room.

Thinking excitedly about showering and seeing Seb's shampoo and conditioner and body wash right next to his. Mingling. A sure sign that he's moved in and is there to stay.

Chris growing to crave the knowledge of understanding just what of their snacks to throw out when Sebastian and him have to get back into serious-movie-star-fitness shape because he knows exactly what Seb can't ever resist and if it's in his sight he'll break his diet. So he gets rid of it; being helpful.

Unlocking the door to their home and walking through the entryway, toeing off his shoes, only to find Sebastian singing by himself as he picks up/does some sort of busy work. Not trying to do anything but sing, nothing but making noise. Imagining it has his heart squeezing.

Picturing Sebastian falling asleep on their couch, Chris getting to cover him with a blanket. Or better yet, Chris getting to carry Sebastian bridal style back to the bedroom and lying down next to him. Watching him before he drifts off too. Content and peaceful in his sleep.

Occasionally, Chris spaces out on his own hands. If you were to ask him what he's doing, its that he's thinking about how it'll look when everytime he looks down he gets to see his wedding band. Shining in artifical and natural light alike because he's never gonna take it off. Pondering what he wants in a ring and what Sebastian might want. Thinking about if their rings will match or not.

Aching to lose the novelty of change in the process of being together for so long: not noticing how more and more greys appear in Seb's beard, or how his hair is getting longer as he grows it out for a role, not noticing his body bulk up for a role, not noticing new fine lines, etc. All because he sees him everyday. He gets to see him everyday. So he doesn't get the jolt of change that he used to after having to go without the other man's presence for months at a time when they're not doing projects together.

Having stupid arguments over wall color and furniture placement when they move house again, expanding... marking off the need for a nursery perhaps.

His breath hitches in his throat, choking on longing, when he thinks about hearing little feet running on kitchen tiles and bigger steps right after them. Giggles and voices waking Chris up in the morning. Babbling in English and Romanian. Picturing rising to an empty bed but a full house. A growing family. His and Sebastian's. A place of their own.

Pssst now with this addition of evanstan + bilingual baby!

[hamliet]

happy july kate 💖 hope you're doing well. as a long time lurker of your blog, you and your work has slowly highlighted my need to create and work on my creativity, especially when it comes to things i loved to do before such as drawing and writing. ngl it's been hard because ive been comparing myself to other artists and writers. for example i saw someone write this beautiful dragon-pheonix reincarnation fic for their ship. the plot, prose and the way everything intertwined was beautiful (1/?)

(2/?) but i look at myself and can barely muster up the courage to write vecause how could i when there's already people who write and draw that well. a lot of my perfectionism comes from past abuse but the way it's manifesting here is such a pain. therapy has helped in healing but god, im so scared to start. have you ever caught yourself in a similar dilemma?

(3/?) another thing i wanted to ask about is how do you approach incorporating other people's analysis and stuff into your own work? obviously give credit where it's due but im always wondering whether it's worth it to be reiterating the same stuff when someone has already done a comprehensive job of it. i guess an example could be lore related to some kind of show or game.

(4/?) last question but do you ever catch yourself justifying your ship? there's like 50 different reasons you can ship characters,,,, maybe I spend too much on twitter but I feel like I have to justify a lot or at least there's an expectation to do that. it makes it harder for me to enjoy other ships (even the ones i dont care for) because now im expecting others to justify for all the same reasons. perhaps i need a fandom break or need to set better boundaries

lmaosorry for the word vomit in your ask box. it's been bugging me a lot and i didn't know who else to ask this since my friends don't really participate in fandom spaces 😶😶 hope this isn't too much of a bother but thank you for even entertaining my chaotic rambling. have a great weekend 💝

Hi Lurker! Oh, I can relate for sure. I think most writers/artists can.

I'm not sure my advice will be anything you haven't already heard, but I can tell you that by living it I know it's true: write it/draw it anyways. Imperfect, sure. Nothing is perfect, and art is subjective. There are so many needs, and no artpiece can satisfy every soul on this planet.

Do it anyways. Even if it's not perfect. You'll get better and better without even realizing it. You'll have moments where you're like I'M REGRESSING *cries* and then someone will tell you this was their favorite thing ever. Art isn't a static thing you just create and leave alone; it's more like an interactive thing, a living thing even at the risk of sounding super fucking cheesy--because it impacts people in different ways, ways we can't predict when creating it. And the act of creating it will impact you, too.

As for the analysis part, give credit and write it on your own. You learn by writing--sometimes it's fun and you'll realize oh hey, I just uncovered something new as I was writing that I hadn't even thought of!

As for justifying, sometimes? And sometimes not. Less so the older I get, lol, and I don't think it's a great thing ever to feel like you have to morally justify everything from each and every potential dislike. Just accept that other people have different tastes, limits, and preferences--which of course is way easier said than done! Give yourself grace and allow yourself to rant from time to time (privately). Art does affect our emotions, and it's good to express those (just not good to be an asshat about it or judge people for it, but expressing "I don't like this opinion" privately to a friend isn't that).

Twitter is the worst for that, though. Everyone's jockeying to be the Most Moral and Change the World Through Yelling At Others You Don't Even Know on there, and I hate it so much. Even as I, y'know, go on pretty much every day and therefore have no right to complain. I do this to myself. Sue me. I'm human too and def a hypocrite for participating in the Bird Site Madness but oh well.

Wow, that's a tangent. Anyways. We're all just doing the best we can, Lurker. Even if you can't quite bring yourself to start art yet, or to stop comparing, give yourself some grace for that. It doesn't make you a loser and it doesn't mean you never will start. All of us have those moments--moments that seem way longer than they should, I'm afraid.

But you know you want to make something. That's good. You deserve to have your voice heard, to follow what you want. The abilities you want to cultivate deserve time and space to grow. You deserve to make imperfect art because you deserve to be here, because you're alive and life is growing and all people should have their voices heard. <3