#but this is the most i've written since december so i'm not going to be that picky about the out put

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: teen? cw: swearing, relationship drama, trying to talk things out but failing, mentions of show typical horrors, mentions of migraines, hints of nightmares tags: established relationship, red string of fate, robin's pathetic love life, steve's a romantic, the boys are on two different pages, but they get it together, grand gestures of love word count: 3685

written for @steddiebingo's Kissing Booth Card "soulmates"

huge, huge thanks to @hbyrde36 for the push that got me to where I needed to be with this! you're the best!!

read it on ao3

-

In an unfortunate tradition forming in their house, Steve and Eddie laid in their bed not yet ready for sleep but knowing they both had early shifts tomorrow and should be sleeping. Since sleep wouldn’t come, they laid in the dark and stared at the ceiling. That got old fast and was always followed by Steve filling the air with his thoughts. 

That was the best part, it made the insomnia worth it. Never did Steve speak so freely as he did when laying there in the dark. Sometimes it was an in depth analysis of why Han Solo really is cool and not a loser but other times it was childhood stories and big worries. Both were welcomed but Eddie liked the latter more. 

They’d landed somewhere in the middle this time. A conversation that started out simple enough; Robin had been lamenting her “horrible” love life again. Steve was always trying to win the best best friend award because Eddie would have locked Robin and Vickie in a room by now and told them they couldn’t come out until they kissed. 

He still might. If only for his own sanity because Steve brought this shit home every time Robin was feeling low about it. 

Steve dutifully listened to every repeated worry she had. Never complaining. He was a good guy. Better than Eddie deserved, that was for sure. Probably better than Robin deserved but who was worthy of a guy like Steve? Robin and Eddie were the ones lucky enough to be picked by him. 

Or, like Steve’s conversation led to, brought together by fate. Them being cosmically meant to be wasn’t something Eddie had expected tonight but maybe dating the sort of guy who could only drink store brand cola when his team played or else they’d lose was the kind of guy to have thoughts on destiny and fate and other made up magic made to sell things. 

The skepticism wasn’t welcome and Steve asked, “So you don’t think we’re tied together?” 

Eddie sighed, all too aware that this teetered on being a thing. The sort of the thing the other mechanics complained about on smoke breaks but Eddie didn’t understand fully. Until now, that is. If he didn’t say the right thing, there was going to be a problem. 

If only the thoughts in his head matched the words coming out of his mouth. “No! How would that even work? What if you lived in China? We’d never find each other!” 

“What if I decided to visit America and then I was a tourist going around Chicago and your band was playing that night but you and Jeff were bored so you wandered the town and we both got pizza at the same place? You’d invite me to your show, of course I’d be wowed, and no one would know why we ran into each other but we were supposed to.” 

Steve came with that answer so quickly that all Eddie could do was stare at him in disbelief. Was that a dream he had? Why did he do that so fast? They also needed to revisit that some other time because those storytelling skills had other uses. 

“What if you were a woman?” Eddie asked, prodding the issue a little. 

“Then you’d figure out you’re bisexual a lot quicker than you are now,” Steve scoffed. 

Again, he came with that too quickly. It brought up even more questions than the fairy tale Steve spontaneously composed. Namely what evidence did Steve have to say that in any universe. What did he know? 

Rather than get into that particular discussion, Eddie huffed and pulled the blanket over his head. He took a moment to himself to think about all of these and maybe brainstorm a few ways to make Buckley’s life hell for dropping this on his doorstep. 

It was one thing to whine and complain and pine but when that caused troubles in Eddie’s relationship, something needed to happen. Something more than pushing these hopeless lesbians together. Right now, Eddie’s only thought was getting Vickie dates with anyone else. Really make Buckley suffer. 

Steve didn’t need Eddie’s participation to continue though. That’s how he always talked at this hour, it was what Eddie loved about laying here too tired to stay awake but too awake to find sleep. Steve would just fill the void until sleep came for one of them. Tonight, Eddie wasn’t sure if it was a good thing but he listened. Cautiously. 

“I’ll wait for you to figure it out, it’s not a big deal. I’m not rushing you or whatever and it doesn’t even matter, right? Like, you’re not dating anyone else so who cares.” 

Eddie groaned and tried to roll over to wrap himself up in the comforter completely but Steve must have been holding his end. There was no give in the blanket so Eddie flopped back in place and grumbled again. 

“But Robin says she can feel it, the string that connects her and Vickie. There’s a pull or something and everything leads to Vickie. She was nothing but evidence. Mountains of evidence. No mountain ranges of evidence and I know how you nerds love your evidence but it was too much.” 

“I’m not a nerd,” Eddie deadpanned. Another thing he wasn’t going to get into right now. 

“You are but that–” 

“So are you,” Eddie countered, the same thing he always said in this conversation. On paper, Steve was a way bigger nerd than Eddie was. 

“Anyway,” Steve said forcefully. “I don’t feel that with you. I don’t think we’re connected by a string or anything else. Like it’d probably be chains or something but Robin says that’s not how it works. Plus, I guess, chains are usually a bad thing in relationships. I just thought they sounded cooler than a string.” 

Oh, okay. Someone slapped the metaphorical television and now Eddie was seeing the picture clearly. This wasn’t another long conversation about Buckley’s miserable pining, this was about Steve and Eddie. 

Well shit. Here Eddie was being a brat about the sentimentality and idea of yet another evening dedicated to Robin’s inability to make the first move. Only it wasn’t about any of that. Mental gears needed to be shifted and a bit of recovery was in order. Neither were easy right now. 

To avoid the apologies part, Eddie rolled to his side despite the blanket not coming with him and tried to think this all through. All he could think about was meeting Robin in a back alley and thanking her with his fists. That wasn’t helpful but it was an enjoyable moment. No one caused more problems between Steve and Eddie than her. 

“I’m not even sure how Robin knows she has one,” Steve said and the hurt in his voice stabbed Eddie right in the chest. This stream of consciousness was getting real serious, real quick. 

“Motherfucker,” Eddie said as he shot a glare at the back of the comforter, emphasising the last syllable with every annoyed bone in his body. 

“How’s she know the other end goes to Vickie? How would anyone know where the other end of theirs is? I mean, what if mine goes to Robin? I’ve called her my soulmate so many times before but that’s not the same as, like, you?” 

Eddie knew those questions weren’t asked to have answers, they were part of Steve working this out. He was saying all the things he couldn’t ask Robin in a moment that was about her. Everything he’d held back to be a supportive best friend was spilling out here. 

Not that Eddie didn’t want to be there to help him work things out. Sometimes his answers were better received outside of this sort of spiraling though. Eddie did shift back to his back, no longer trying to freeze Steve out here but he stayed quiet as his boyfriend poured out his worries. 

“But also, why’s she so worried about soulmates? Can’t she just be happy we’re alive and that there’s anyone in town to even have a crush on? That’s really unfair of me to say, I know. I mean, look what I got, but it just seems like the only thing she wants is this whole big grand storybook thing.” 

Eddie caught the wistful sigh, Steve was just as romantic as Robin was. If not more so. Sure it was different flavors of the same soup or whatever but they were the sappiest romantics Eddie had ever met. It was no wonder they found each other. Occasionally, that wasn’t a good thing. This might be one of those moments. 

“And besides, if there were red strings attaching soulmates that people knew about then how come Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler are married? It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“But you want one,” Eddie said, moving the blanket off his face. He easily ignored the comments about other people’s marriages. Loads of people didn’t marry for love but it was that romanticism, Steve thought everyone did. Despite a fine example of people not marrying for love were his parents. 

“Do you think we have one?” 

Eddie lifted his arm to dangle in the air and then yanked it as far away from Steve as he could without falling out of bed. “Did you feel that?” 

“Yeah, dipshit, you shook the whole bed.” 

Whoops, so that wasn’t the right answer. It was marginally better than talking about how dumb Eddie thought the whole concept was but still wrong. He could think of a million reasons that he and Steve were meant for each other, current conversation aside. Why did they need some silly stupid string to connect them? 

The rant sitting on the tip of Eddie’s tongue was too lengthy, they were supposed to be sleeping and maybe part of growing up was learning not everything needed to be an epic speech. Still, Eddie was one breath away from flipping on the lights to explain everything he felt right now. It wouldn’t help anyone, though. 

Maybe in the morning, Eddie would have a more coherent argument. He was sure if he got up now it’d be a lot of incoherent rambling. Angry, incoherent rambling that would probably lead to him sleeping on the couch. 

Neither of them said anything after that. Steve tossed and turned a bit but eventually filled the air with his snoring. Eddie had a tougher time finding sleep as he replayed everything that happened over and over, practicing all the things he wanted to say. 

Starting with a long winded explanation that there was no string connecting Robin and Vickie, Robin just needed to believe it wouldn’t crash and burn if she tried anything while giving herself a reason to not do anything. If they were connected by fate then they’d be pulled together when the time was right. 

A wonderful thought that would lead to nothing. Eddie couldn’t take on the insurmountable task of explaining that to either of them though. It didn’t matter who believed in mysticism and bullshit meant to make marriage look better, what mattered was Steve believed this. He wanted a soulmate and, apparently, wanted that to be Eddie. A terrifying thought if ever there was one. 

Steve should probably aim a little higher. Maybe find someone who believed there was a string tied between them. 

The alarm rang out way too soon. Eddie hadn’t worked this all out or gotten any rest. Nowhere in Steve’s fairy tale version of being in love did it talk about staying up all night because of irrational worries one’s partner had. Or how life had to go on after some weirdness. Bills still needed to be paid. 

—-

It’d been two weeks since Steve laid awake struggling over where his red string of fate was. They hadn’t talked about it again but it’d been a constant in the back of Eddie’s mind. Every idle moment it’d shuffle to the forefront and he’d grapple with it again. 

Not that it’d been a fight between them, at best it was Eddie saying the wrong thing and they were used to that, but Steve was kind of right. Something Eddie was okay with admitting, he just had to find out a way to do it. There needed to be more than an apology but if Eddie was good at one thing, it was making a production out of something. 

Soulmates hadn’t ever been anything Eddie was looking for in his life. He didn’t dream of a prince charming or even like rom coms. If the club tried to force romance into their quests then Eddie would kill someone’s character and get them back on track. He wasn’t sappy like the rest of them. 

Every couple of months or so Eddie would fall into some sort of funk thinking Steve was going to wise up and get out. Even as he had his own little love story, he didn’t buy into it all the way. His invisible hand wasn’t tying strings anywhere, it was waiting to pull rugs out from under Eddie. 

However, in the days since the subject came up, Eddie realized how almost unbelievable it was that he ended up here with Steve. There were so many points in their brief history together that one tiny decision would have pushed them apart. That over and over and over again fate stepped in and kept him in Steve’s Harrington’s path. 

Which was all a little too serious for Eddie. He spent an entire day thinking about how sad it was that Steve was destined to be with him out of all the people in the world. Which was followed by several days of thinking about how fucking lucky Steve was. Not that his soulmate was right where he was but that it was Eddie!

So, yeah, they didn’t rescue each other from some tall tower to prove this was real but maybe there was a little something to Buckley’s stupid belief. The jury was still out if the other end of her string went to Vickie or not but as thanks for creating this mess in Eddie’s life, he decided not to point that out to her. 

Once Eddie got himself on the right side of this debate, he started to think about ways to help Steve over this little hurdle. That brought up some other feelings and prolonged anything as Eddie struggled with it too. Not in the same way as Steve though. 

Why wasn’t everything he’d done good enough to show they were meant to be together or that Eddie was very, very happy with Steve? Why did they need some mythical string tying them together when Eddie could pick up on Steve’s migraines before Steve could? Or that Eddie could make Steve’s favorite dinner better than anyone else? What about the fact that he didn’t hang up a sword on the wall in the living room? 

There were so many things that screamed out love while Steve was looking for a whisper. In the recurring self doubt, Eddie realized it was a difference in language and sometimes he had to communicate in a way Steve understood. If this was something he needed then Eddie would wrap a string around the planet all so Steve could find his way back to him. 

Unfortunately that wasn’t in the budget and after a few days of brainstorming and a couple of Girl Scout books from the library, Eddie found the answer. An infinity knot bracelet. It wasn’t complicated or expensive but when was a gesture of love about either of those things? It was well within Eddie’s skill set and did exactly what he wanted it to.

With his photocopied directions and practice string, Eddie got it worked out in twenty minutes. It’d have been faster but the directions were a little misleading. They made an incredibly simple thing seem like weaving a whole tapestry. Those poor little girls. 

He made a matching set but made sure to make one end longer than necessary, that was the part that went on and connected to the other. Eddie road tested it one afternoon while Steve was at work and it didn’t get in the way. It was long enough to show it was deliberate but not to endanger them. 

From there it was figuring out how to give it to Steve. Like someone waiting to propose, Eddie carried the bracelets with him everywhere he went, hoping Robin’s sad string would come up again or…well Eddie didn’t know what else. If the universe was so invested, it’d give him a good moment. 

Instead, Eddie got a dead tired Steve who plopped himself face down on the couch to groan and whine about customers. Eddie brought in sodas and sat cross legged on the coffee table to listen to every complaint. They were always the same but if Eddie had to deal with customers he’d have committed a real murder and not just been accused of one. Listening to their crimes was the least he could do if it kept Steve (or him) out of prison. 

“This can’t be the rest of my life,” Steve moaned, a sentiment so common it was baked into the apartment walls at this point. 

Why that was the moment, Eddie will never know, but he sprung from his spot and ran to his jacket. Soda nearly spilled all over the entryway as he searched the pockets to grab that now familiar handful of red rope. Once he found them, he ran back to Steve. 

Eddie launched into an answer despite the gap in time. “Look, whatever. Sometimes life is dumb, right? It gives you a stupid job and, I don’t know, fucking monsters man. It’s given us some shit, god, but it’s not all bad.” 

Steve pulled his face up from the couch and looked at Eddie like he was speaking another language. A fair reaction, Eddie was sure that didn’t make a lick of sense. 

“Okay, lemme try that again? I think the universe tells you stuff but you don’t know how to listen and I think it’s been screaming at you to go to college. You’re not supposed to work at a register all day, man. I really think you gotta do something else like be a teacher or, I don’t know, a hand model. Something really important.” 

“Why’d you have to run around the house for that?” Steve asked after shifting to lay on his side. 

“Oh!” Eddie shook his head and held out his hand. “Because you thought you didn’t have a red string like Robin. You thought we didn’t and if you can’t see what the universe is giving you, I’m going to make it undeniable.” 

With that Eddie held out his hand, two tangled up bracelets tried to spring to life from where he’d been clenching them together after retrieving them. 

Cautiously, Steve sat up and inspected the pile. He pulled one out and Eddie immediately tossed his to the side and snatched Steve’s back. A little too aggressively, he took Steve’s hand and slid the bracelet on before he pulled it tight. Then put his own on to hold up to Steve’s. 

“See,” he said. 

Steve sat there and turned his wrist back and forth, Eddie slid to the end of the table and tried to read this look he’d not seen before. Unsure if he’d done the right thing and was dying inside waiting to hear anything from Steve. 

When he couldn’t wait anymore Eddie tried to help the situation. “I made these parts longer so you know that’s the part that’s connected to mine and stuff. I don’t know, man. I don’t think there’s any doubt in my mind that you’re the one for me but if you can’t see that, I’ll help you out. Always.” 

Steve sucked in a few breaths so quickly that Eddie thought the guy was hyperventilating. Eddie put his hands on Steve’s knees, ready to launch into the “nightmares protocol” here but after a few of them, Steve started to breathe normally again. 

“This is so fucking sappy,” Steve said, his voice choking on the words. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Well you’d know. Good god, if there was an expert on the subject…” 

With the weakest hand, Steve shoved at Eddie’s shoulder but instantly pulled it back to go back to staring at his newly decorated wrist. 

There were a few beats of needed silence before Eddie leaned in and said, “I mean it though.” 

Maybe he wasn’t the best at saying what he was feeling, even now when the moment called for it, but all Eddie could do was try. Judging by the way Steve looked right now, that was enough.

Butterflies filled Eddie’s stomach, the same way they did before him and Steve did anything. Back when they thought they’d just be friends and Eddie didn’t want to be in the same room as him because he couldn’t stop undressing Steve with his eyes. Or, in the stuff he wouldn’t admit, wanted to take him to the movies and fancy dinners and shit. 

It was the sort of feeling that Eddie wanted to crawl inside of and make a home. And how did he tell Steve any of that? It was hardly a beautiful poem or whatever romantic people liked, though it would make a good song. One Eddie started mentally writing, wishing for a notebook nearby or something.

Steve struggled with his words too. Which was kind of nice, in a weird way. So they sat there for a long time, together and not saying anything. Until Steve dragged Eddie to the couch and curled up against him. 

They didn’t bother with reruns or the nightly news, they just sat together. What else was there to do when someone made the proclamation of a life together forever? And there wasn’t a single doubt in Eddie’s mind that he would be with Steve until the day he died. Maybe the universe did know a thing or two. They just had to listen a little closer. 

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 48!

hello loves i'm so sorry for the delay!! life has been kicking my ass lately BUT i've been reading some good fics still and i'm happy to share them <3

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

any way the wind blows | notathingtoseehere | 10.1k | M

A post s08e08 look into how Buck could backslide into his season 1 habits when his best friend leaves him. hmmm tis the season of speculation for many more months... may i recommend this one to start off with? i love a return to buck 1.0 so much!! also op i need you to know i did in fact say good job out loud lol

can i be close to you? | myemergence | 4.2k | T

“Woah, woah,” Chim laughs, “please, Buck, do not tell us what or who it is you’ve been dreaming about.” A fic written for a prompt on the Buddie discord, about forehead kisses. Fluff ensues. yes i have in fact been going through the entire buddie forehead kisses tag this past week. no i do not wat to talk about it. but i DO want to talk about this lovely little fic!!

cool | LovelyLittleGrim | 5.6k | T

Buck keeps kissing Eddie on the forehead. Eddie has some THOUGHTS about it. eddie has thoughts and so i do and those thoughts are that buck should keep doing this forever and ever <3 so cute!!

eddie diaz can't have sex | notathingtoseehere | 11.9k | M

Eddie Diaz would like to say that the 118 needs a more involved HR department, or maybe he just needs friends who do less meddling. i love firefam shenanigans and i love demi eddie and i love buddie so basically i love this fic <3

eddie diaz vs the buck's boyfriend agenda | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 23.4k | M

Eddie starts gathering information about why no one trusts Tommy. As he grows to hate their relationship more, he learns more about himself and what he wants. eddie's agenda ���� my agenda. all of this author's works are a delight and this is no exception <3

feels like falling in love | justhockey | 5.2k | not rated

five times Eddie doesn’t mean to kiss Buck, and the one time he does. delicious delicious 5+1 fic <3

home is not a place | ithilien22/@ithilien-writes | 9.7k | T

In which Eddie has a series of long overdue conversations - with Chris, with his parents, and also with Buck. eddie and chris having heartfelt conversations at the lake!! this is brilliant and captures their dynamic so well <3

howling all night | clytemnestra/@clytemnestraaa | 3.3k | E

Buck helps him pack. Of course he does. Buck’s helpful like that. Eddie leaves for Texas. this hurt in the best way possible <3 so gorgeous!

i've lost my mind | evenatraitormaymend | 9.4k | T

Buck doesn’t tell anyone about his insomnia for six months. Eddie notices anyway, but neither of them talk about it until it’s nearly six am and he wakes up to Buck climbing in his bed—not having slept since before their 24-hour shift started yesterday. Eddie gets to show Buck how much he’s loved. okay two things i LOVE are eddie taking care of buck but also buck researching and setting up routines and taking care of himself, so basically this is the perfect fic for me <3

the aftermath of liberation and love confessions | ElvenSorceress | 17.3k | T

In which Eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, Buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year. this was a lovely lovely morning read a few days ago!! i love me some good idiots in love <3

the missing children's parents club | notathingtoseehere | 34.5k | T

With Christopher in El Paso and Mara pulled out of custody, there's a lot of parents around the 118 that are missing their kids, and a lot of comfort that can be found with each other. not me realising as i'm putting this together that i keep reccing the same author... i had no idea but i promise they're all brilliant brilliant fics!! think i might have to check out their other works lol this must be a sign

'til my lungs give out | time_leigh | 1.1k | G

Buck wakes slowly, gently. He lays still, breathing slowly, enveloped in the soft embrace of a duvet. He is not awake enough to open his eyes and shifts, slowly turning his head deeper into his pillow, feeling the drag of the cotton, smelling home. There is an arm laced over his chest. Slowly, an ear-splitting grin grows across his face. soft and sweet and absolutely tooth-rotting fluff in the best way possible <3

transduce the mind | detectivemeer/@buick118 | 2.4k | E

Buck’s talking about how nearly a third of US gymnasts are in the southeast and how Maddie did rhythmic dance—not dance, Eddie—and he’s reaching for the remote to find their next binge when all the bad ideas Eddie’s ever successfully obliterated resurrect themselves. And Eddie figures, in a cold empty echo, that his life is already ruined. What's one more grenade launched at the rubble? this is STUNNING and so so so well-written, i loved every second of it!!

trying to be cool about it | jukoist | 6.1k | G

Buck and Eddie have always tried too hard to force themselves to like the people they're dating (to varying degrees of success). They have very different responses to realizing how easy it has been to be in love all along. this is the most brilliant most buddie premise ever and it's executed so so well and i love it!! such a good time <3

when everything's on fire | beartowns/@glowingyears | 15.4k | T

Eddie and Chris move in with Buck after a fire. Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, buys a house with Eddie, and realizes he's in love. In precisely that order. oh the buddie house hunting always hits so good <3 this is a beautiful take on that trope and it's just such a wonderful fic!!

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #45 | 12.02.24 ๋࣭⭑

well, this is more like a half devlog if i'm being honest

Hi everyone! Man, it's been a while since we last talked, huh? Somehow my last devlog to you all was end of August, and now we're all the way in December. It's crazy to know I was in my cave for that long LMFALSIDJF

I don't usually do devlogs starting the last two months of the year---usually because I end up getting busy, and with it being the holidays, I just give myself the devlog off as my one little "holiday treat."

This year, it's a bit different since I haven't given you all a devlog in quite a while. I have exciting and boring news to share with you all this month! First off for exciting news, as I'm sure you've all heard....

I'M A DOCTOR!!!!!!

That's RIGHT. The step away from Alaris was everything I needed to be able to crunch my dissertation and graduate this semester. To say it was painful would be a complete understatement. For context, people usually spend about 1 year writing and defending their dissertation. Since I last spoke to you all, I ended up analyzing, writing, and defending my entire dissertation in the span of about 2-3 months. Basically every moment that I existed as a living being was spent working on my dissertation (if I wasn't working), and even a month after I defended I'm in disbelief that I was able to pull it off.

But here I stand before you all, finally free from the confines of academia after a grueling 4 years.

I have worked on Alaris the entire time I've been in PhD school, and so there's literally no one here who knows me outside of being a PhD student. So it's crazy to enter a new chapter of game dev where I no longer have to balance work, PhD school, and Alaris. And instead, I can be a normal person that just balances work and game dev.

That being said...

I know I had told you all I would be back in the Alaris grind in November since that would be around the time when my defense would be. And while I've literally tried my damnedest to get back on the game dev horse, it's been a Fckn Struggle, everyone.

I don't think I realized how hard I was working myself until this past month rolled around and I entered recovery mode. Admittedly, I actually think I was working myself harder when I was balancing Alaris with work and PhD stuff than when I was crunching a 1 year dissertation project into 2 months. And this might not be a new revelation to some people---even earlier this year, I remember getting comments of like "wow, you're working so fast/hard!" "omg how are you getting all this done?" "you need to be nicer to yourself, i don't think you realize how much work you actually do" etc. etc.

But I think because I enjoy game dev so much, I didn't see it as working myself hard. Now, though, after getting some clarity and seeing how much that was affecting my physically, I really want to make it a point to take care of myself better and not push myself too hard (life is too short and healthcare is too expensive LMALSDF).

So, while this isn't me saying Alaris is going on hiatus or anything scary like that, I do hope you all can extend a bit more of your patience and understanding at least until the end of this year for me to get back into the swing of things. I have genuinely been thinking about Alaris a lot---the script and scenes I want to write, CGs I want to draw, etc. But I just haven't had the physical energy to do it.

I'm hoping writing this devlog will help me get back into the swing of things this month. But I do want to be transparent that the holiday season tends to get busy for me, so I don't want to make promises of working on Alaris at any kind of full capacity.

Luckily, a lot of Alaris is done. If you all remember, the only route that needs to be written at this point is Aisa's. And half of the routes have been programmed! While Etza and Kuna'a's routes do need to be cleaned up and edited, a lot of the foundational work, which is most time-consuming for me is done. So I do still hope to get Alaris to you all (at least the Central routes) in early 2025!

Thank you all as always for being patient and understanding. As I get back on the Alaris horse, I also hope to get back into answering your messages <3 Hope you all are staying warm and having a restful holiday season.

[jeysslut]

Pregnant

I didn't know what to title this 💀💀

The stories I was writing before were taking me too long so I'm writing this because it's more simple 😭😭 but those stories will be out later

Requests are always open!

Also guys, Remember, I haven't written since December 2023 so that's why this is bad 😭

Anyways

Jey Uso ( I'm gonna call him Joshua/Josh in this ) X Fem!Reader

( not proofread, sorry if any mistakes )

18+ Minors DNI!

You take a deep breathe as you set the pregnancy test down on the counter

You sit down on the toilet ( it's closed ) and wait for the results

You immediately start panicking

You've personally always wanted kids but.. You and Josh never talked about having kids so.. What if he doesn't want kids?

What if you are pregnant... Then he gets mad

Maybe even.. breaks up with you?!

You flip the test over but there's still nothing on the test

Time skip to 5 minutes later

You take a deep breathe again then you slowly flip the test over

There's 2 lines..

You burst into tears

" omg.. " You say under your breathe

You pick up the test and just stare at it

" Wha... I'm gonna be a mom? " you whisper to yourself

Then, You hear the front door open which scares you so you immediately jump up

" Shit! "

You wipe your tears so it doesn't look like you were crying then you put the test in your pocket of your jeans

You leave the bathroom and see Josh putting his bags down by the front door

" Oh! Hey, Baby, I didn't think you would be home for another few days? " You say while walking up to him very slowly

" Yeah, I wasn't supposed to but Drew attacked me so the doctors told me to rest at home — Did you not watch raw last night? " Josh says

" Well.. I- no I didn't, sorry baby, You know I've been really tired lately "

" Aye, Don't be sorry, It's all good " Josh says

You stand on your tippy toes and kiss his lips

" I love you " Josh says

" I love you too, but um.. I needa talk to you " You say nervously

" Oh? Ight.. What's wrong? "

You take him into you and his room

Then you both sit on the bed

" I- Uhh.. I need you to promise me that you won't get mad and most importantly, You won't break up with me " You say as you gently grab his hand and hold it

" Gawd dayum y/n? Did you cheat on me or some shit " Josh says while laughing a bit

" What? No? I would never do that to you "

" Mm.. Okay, Then.. I promise not to get mad " Josh says

You slightly smile

" Okay good — Uh- I'll actually just show you in- instead.. " You say nervously

" You know what, Just close your eyes and I'll put it in your hands "

" I-.. Nah, y/n, Why can't you just show me? " Josh says

You exhale " Okay, Fine "

You slowly take the test out of your back pocket

Then you put the test in his hand

He stares at it for a very.. long time

" Wh- Wait.. What does 2 lines mean " Josh says

" I-.. I'm pregnant, Baby " You say softly

" Wha-?.. For Real? " Josh says as his eyes start to get watery

" Yeah.. " You say under your breathe

He smiles then immediately picks you up off the bed

You squel then wrap your legs around his waist " W- Wait.. J- Josh?? Your not mad? "

" What? Hell no! Why would I be mad, Princess? " He says as he lays you down on then bed then looks you in the eyes

" Cause you don't wanna have kids with me? I dunno.. "

" What? Baby, I've never said that? The only thing I've ever wanted is to have kids with you "

" Really?.. " You mumble while sitting up

" Yeah! — Do you wanna g- " He tries to say but you cut him off, not realizing he started talking again

" Why'd you never tell me? That.. You wanted to have kids? " You say softly

" Cause I didn't think you wanted to " Josh mumbles with a slight shrug

" Aww Josh, Of course I've always wanted to have kids with you too "

He smiles then kisses your cheek

" I love you, Baby " He whispers

" I love you toooo " you say

" Well anyways, Do you wanna go out to dinner? Andd.. I'll buy whatever food you want " Josh says

" You always let me get what I want at restaurants, Josh " You say while laughing a bit

" Yeah I know but like, Whatever your craving, ya know? "

" Mm okayyy.. Wafflehouse? " You say with a little grin

He smirks " Ya know, That sounds real good right now but, I think for this occasion, We need somewhere more fancier "

You choose a restaurant that's really expensive and fancy ( idrk what that restaurant would be so yall can decide 😭 )

" And, I was thinking we could invite trin and jon to dinner wit us so we can tell them that your pregnant " Josh says

" Oohh okayyy " you say

____________________________

The end😭😭

sorry this was so short

I got lazy so sorry it just ended like that and I felt like the dinner part wasn't needed so ykk

And the end of this, I was half asleep while writing it so that's why it's so bad 💀

Anyways

Requests are open, Will get to the ones I already have soon!

Hope yall liked this! 🫶🏼

[bokettochild]

🎶For the twelfth day of Christmas, my Ketto gave to me-🎶

Closure!!!!!

So, I've been talking about this for a fair bit now and debating the logistics, and I have decided to do it: A Christmas of Closure!

I have so many unfinished/on hiatus fics, some that never got past the first part, and this is my effort to (1) relieve myself of the guilt of not finishing them and (2) give a bit of closure to the readers who still wanted more from the story.

How does it work? You guys can choose any story of mine that you wanted to see more of, and the first twelve will get a little love this holiday season, with me posting one update every day leading up to Christmas, and ending on Christmas day with either whatever I was most excited to share, or what took me the longest and I needed more time for LOL

They key to this is that it's stories I've already started, so rather than spending half my writing time trying to figure out what it's going to be about, I'll hopefully just be giving words to something that's sat in my brain for the last few months/years. I'll get to share with you what was supposed to happen, while maybe jump-starting my own creative process so maybe (no promises) I'll actually be able to finish the story! (Again, NO promises, but also I hope so!!!)

(Specifics below)

All stories are on the table with the exception of TBBU, since that's already a work in progress and I will get there independently (*she lied, like a liar*). There might be others that have reached their natural end as well, and I'm not up to making zombies, but I can't name any right off, so go nuts and choose whatever you feel has been on life support for too long :)

Whumptober/Sicktember/Febuwhump prompts are up from grabs, but only in the form of continuations of already written pieces. I will not be writing prompts that I failed to post on time in this challenge (maybe another time)

The age of the fic doesn't matter, but be aware I might not be able to capture the same voice as I used to use. My writing style has changed and developed, but I will try and match my own freak when I can.

You CAN ask for specific things! I will not take unkindly to you popping in to say "write an update for story XYZ and maybe have ABC happen?" I can't promise that ABC will happen of course, because maybe that's not what was meant to happen, but I promise to consider any and all suggestions regardless, and try and make a Christmas present that you'll enjoy :)

The stories will get posted starting on the 14th of December and ending on December 25. There will not be an Ao3 collection, but I will have a master-list here on tumblr.

I hope that covers everything, but if you have any questions I didn't answer, please feel free to send an ask, so I can answer publicly, in the case others had the same question <3

[wings-of-ink]

Mini progress report, some ramblings and Patreon planning

Hello all! I just wanted to drop a note and check in. I haven't been around as much lately as I've had some busy things in my personal life going on (all good things, btw), and they've made me a bit sleepy. I have some asks baking in my inbox, but I will attend to them when I've got the energy saved up.

For now, I am still working on chapter 5 and she is a biggie. I do not know when the update will go through. I had hoped for October, but realistically it will probably be November. I'm giving myself some wiggle room since the season for me is shifting, and I often experience fatigue and some strong-sads when autumn/winter set in. I won't know for sure until it hits if I will be a sleepy mess or not, lol. Sometimes it doesn't hit until December.

Assuming I remain in good humor, I will be doing a lot of writing and testing in the coming days. Around this time last year is when I was finally writing the first chapter of GC. It really helped me get through the winter months, so I hope that this year will be much the same.

In fact, I found when I made the document for the outline and rough draft for the start of our story:

Between here and the very beginning of February 2024, I wrote the prologue and chapters 1 and 2 and then published them. This coming February, we should celebrate our 1 year anniversary, right?

Chapter 5 is coming along well. I've had a couple scenes that I want to go back over and refine since I either forgot something or they just didn't turn out the way I wanted. I have also written out an event that happens in chapter 7 which I am very (unreasonably) excited about. I could not help myself, it was burning a hole in my brain. It will, of course, develop a lot more after I have 5 & 6 actually done, but I can't wait until you get there.

Here is where Chapter 5 stands now:

This looks massive, but keep in mind there are two paths at the beginning of this chapter and each have unique events/consequences. Some of the text is shared here and there between them, and then they meet. This also includes code and such. I am at the mid-point of the chapter currently where there is a bit of downtime and the MC can get up to...a few things.

Such as this tease for a Duri-moment:

Just what are you two up to???

As for Patreon, if anyone is curious, I am still planning. The feedback I got from the poll along with messages and such have helped a lot. I am not sure when I will have things running since I am prioritizing the actual chapter writing while I've been busy with other things. Since my weekly schedule is going to be back to normal now, I can think about it more.

I have determined to take Patreon nice and slow. It will focus on just a few tiers to start (centered on only God-Cursed for the time being). From there, we'll grow things at a sustainable pace. Most were interested in extras (POVs & drabbles), so I will focus on those, early access, and spiciness. I had debated about starting this next year as opposed to, say, November or December. I may just shoot for whenever I have chapter 5 done. I feel like that's a good round place we can branch off from, and it will open up more flexibility in any bonus content I write.

I think that's all of what's been on my mind lately, and I've prattled too long as it is. I hope you are all safe and well!

Take care! ^_^

~ Lunan 🐦‍⬛

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

I’m Still Standing.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

author's note - this concept came into my head really randomly and it’s the most angsty thing i’ve ever written on this account, so i hope it’s good for you all!!

please understand that i’m not trying to portray harry’s fans as people who would laugh about scars, i made this up so it would fit the outlook for the story.

word count - 6.8k

in which, you and harry first met when you auditioned to be a member of his love band, since then, your relationship has only just got better, friends turned to best friends and best friends slowly morphed into lovers. it was definitely love at first sight. but in december of 2022, you were the victim of an accidental road injury, you were hit by a car. it took a long time for you to recover, your fiance tried to cancel the shows so that he could care for you but you didn't want him to miss anything, so whilst he toured oceania and asia, you stayed home. june, 2023 was when you thought you were ready to appear on stage again, but that all takes a turn for the worst when some fans make some nasty remarks, but harry's quick to remind you, that you're still standing better than you ever did.

trigger warnings - mentions of panic attacks and car accidents, mentions of scars and hospital terms, mentions of mental health and body dysmorphia.

You stand backstage, your fingers nervously strumming the strings of your guitar, trying to get it into tune. This audition for Harry Styles' tour band feels like the culmination of all your hard work and dedication. 

The stakes are high, and the nerves threaten to consume you.

You didn’t really know what you were doing there, your mother had recorded you playing your guitar in front of your dog Monty and had posted it on her facebook, loads of people saw it and that was when you got an email from Columbia Records requesting that you come in for an audition, apparently Mr. Styles was looking for someone to join his band for his 2018, Live On Tour, tour.

To say you were nervous would definitely be an understatement, your hands were shaking and you didn’t really know how to stop them from doing it.

Just as doubt starts to creep in, the sound of the door creaking open catches your attention. 

Your eyes go wide when you turn around and there he is, Harry Styles himself, leaning casually against the doorframe with that captivating smile on his face.

He was wearing a black loose fitted shirt, with flamingos adorned over the material, the buttons not fully done up so you could see the tips of his swallow tattoos peaking through, his legs were fitted with a pair of beige trousers and some yellow loafers attached to his feet.

He looked good.

"Hey there," he says in his velvety voice, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "You must be the talented guitarist I've been hearing so much about."

For some reason, your breath caught in your throat, resulting in you losing the ability to respond back to him.

Your heart skips a beat, and you struggle to find your voice. "Uh, yeah, that's me. I'm a big fan, by the way."

Way to embarrass yourself, (Y/N).

Harry chuckles, his laughter like music to your ears. "Well, I'm flattered. But remember, I'm just a guy with a few decent songs. No need to be nervous."

A few decent songs, he definitely needed to be humbled. His songs were like going to space, beautiful and rare, there was hardly any music like his nowadays.

His words instantly put you at ease, a wave of relief washing over you. You offer a shy smile and respond, "Thanks, Mr. Styles. I needed that."

He steps closer, his eyes fixated on your guitar. "Mind if I take a look?"

Harry Styles wanted to hold your guitar.

Harry Styles, heartthrob, wanted to hold your guitar, how could you ever say not to that.

Control yourself.

You nod and hand him the instrument, your fingers lightly brushing against his. Call it cliche, but a jolt of electricity shoots through you, and you can't help but blush. 

Harry strums a few chords, effortlessly coaxing a beautiful melody from the strings.

"Sounds fantastic," Harry remarks, returning the guitar to your waiting hands. "I think you're going to fit right in."

Your confidence begins to soar as Harry's charm wraps around you like a warm embrace. The audition becomes less daunting with every word he speaks, his encouragement laced with playful banter.

"So, do you always have this effect on musicians?" you tease, a twinkle in your eye.

Harry smirks, leaning in closer. "Only the ones who make my heart skip a beat."

Your breath once again caught, you made his heart skip a beat?

His words catch you off guard, and your cheeks flush with a mix of surprise and excitement. You try to maintain your composure, but deep down, you can't deny the flutter of anticipation building within you.

He was really good looking.

You didn’t even know that you were auditioning until the audition progressed, your fingers gliding effortlessly across the strings, the music resonating with every fiber of your being. Harry's presence fuels your performance, his voice blending seamlessly with your guitar, creating a harmonious masterpiece. It's as if you've been playing together for years.

Maybe that was how it was supposed to be.

In between your audition, Harry flashes you a sly grin and quips, "You know, if you keep playing like that, I might just fall head over heels for you."

You blushed once again.

Your heart skips a beat, and you laugh nervously, attempting to hide the blush that creeps up your neck. "I think I'd be okay with that."

Did you really just say that?

The air in the room crackles with a charged energy, and you find yourself lost in a dance of music and flirtation. Each note you play is a secret message, a longing that speaks louder than words. And in Harry's eyes, you catch glimpses of a shared desire.

By the time you reach the final chords, the room erupts in applause. Harry rises from his seat, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You were incredible," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I'd love for you to join the tour."

I’m sorry, what?!

You can hardly believe your ears. The moment you've been dreaming of is here. With a wide smile, you respond, "I'd be honored, Mr. Styles."

He reaches out, his hand finding yours, and pulls you into a warm embrace. As his arms encircle you, you can't help but notice the racing of your heart and the way his touch sends a surge of electricity through your veins. The world around you fades into the background, and all that exists in this moment is the two of you, entangled in a moment of undeniable connection.

Harry's voice, barely above a whisper, caresses your ear. "Welcome to the band, love."

You lean back slightly, looking into his eyes, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty swirling within you. The unspoken tension between you is palpable, and you find yourself wondering if Harry feels the same magnetic pull that you do.

Maybe you were just imagining it.

As you break from the embrace, a mischievous smile tugs at the corners of Harry's lips. "I must admit, there's a part of me that's relieved you're joining the band. I wouldn't want to miss out on the opportunity to get to know you better."

Your heart skips a beat for about the millionth time that day, the words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken possibilities. A playful glint dances in his eyes, and you find yourself being drawn closer to him, your bodies now only inches apart.

"Getting to know you better sounds like a delightful prospect," you reply, your voice laced with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

Harry leans in, his voice a seductive murmur. "Maybe we could grab a drink after rehearsal? I'd love to hear more about the person behind that incredible talent."

A rush of warmth floods through you, and you nod eagerly. "That sounds perfect."  

That was just over three months ago.

So far, you were rehearsing for his first tour as a solo member and things had been going great. You had met Sarah, Mitch, Clare and Adam five days after your audition and instantly got along with the two of them, calling them your best friends within two weeks of knowing them.

As for Harry, things were definitely starting to get better with the two of you. If you seemed to be having a bad day, he would find a way to put a smile on your face. He was cute like that.

As you join the band and embark on rehearsals, Harry's presence continues to fill you with a sense of comfort and confidence. His playful banter and infectious laughter become the soundtrack to your journey together.

During breaks, you steal stolen glances, your eyes locking and holding for longer than necessary. The air brims with unspoken tension, each encounter tinged with the promise of something more.

One evening, after an intense rehearsal, Harry takes you aside, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. 

"I've been thinking about us, you know," he admits, his voice filled with honesty. "There's something between us, something I can't ignore."

You weren’t sure you could ignore it for much longer either.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your own feelings echoing his words. "I feel it too, Harry. It's like we've found a connection that's hard to put into words."

He steps closer, his hand reaching up to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Would it be too forward of me to say that I'm falling for you? That being around you makes everything feel right?"

No…never.

A smile tugs at your lips, your heart soaring with newfound courage. "It wouldn't be too forward at all, Harry. I'm falling for you too."

In that moment, the world around you fades away once again. It's just the two of you, standing in the quiet embrace of a shared revelation. And as your lips meet in a tender, passionate kiss, you know that this journey—this tour with Harry Styles—will be more than just a musical experience. It will be a love story for the ages, where the strings of your guitar intertwine with the strings of your hearts, creating a melody that will resonate long after the final notes have faded.

You had finally found the one.

Five years.

Five years you had been in a relationship with Harry and during those five years, the relationship between the two of you had done nothing but flourish.

On your anniversary in 2020, he proposed to you. He got down on one knee in your shared London house and there was no doubt that you were going to say yes.

You adored the man with every fiber of your body.

You find yourself sitting on the cosy couch in your shared hotel in Werchter, Belgium, a gentle warmth filling the room. Your fingers trace absent-minded patterns on the fabric of the blanket thrown over your lower body, keeping you warm as you let your mind wander, reflecting on the journey that has brought you to this very moment.

You cautiously cross the road, anticipation pulsating through your veins as you head towards the café to meet your boyfriend.  The air is crisp, carrying a hint of autumn's arrival, and the city buzzes with its usual energy.

The road was safe when you crossed, until it wasn’t.

In the midst of the bustling crowd, a danger lurks, unseen and unforgiving. 

A drunk driver, his senses impaired, careens towards you without warning. Time slows down, and your instincts kick in, desperately trying to avoid the inevitable collision.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you attempt to evade the oncoming car, but the impact is inevitable. 

Pain sears through your body as you're flung through the air, crashing onto the unforgiving pavement. The world spins, and darkness descends upon you like a heavy curtain.

Inside the café, Harry sits near the window, a cup of untouched coffee growing cold before him. As he waits, a knot of anxiety tightens in his stomach. Suddenly, the tranquility of the moment shatters, and his gaze is drawn to the horrific scene unfolding just outside.

That’s when he sees you.

Time slows to a torturous crawl as Harry's eyes widen in disbelief. He watches in helpless horror as the car strikes you, his heart pounding in his ears. With a mix of disbelief and raw emotion, he stumbles out of his seat, knocking over his chair in the process.

His voice trembles as he shouts your name, the desperation and anguish evident in his cries. "No! Oh God, no! Somebody help! Call an ambulance!"

Passersby freeze, their eyes widening in shock as they witness the aftermath of the accident. Harry's voice breaks, the weight of the situation crashing down upon him. He drops to his knees beside your motionless body, trembling fingers reaching out to touch your cold skin.

Tears blur his vision as he cradles your face, his voice choked with pain. "Please, wake up…(Y/N)... Don't leave me like this, m’angel… I can't lose you."

Amidst the chaos, someone steps forward, dialing emergency services and relaying the dire situation. The sound of sirens grows closer, a faint glimmer of hope in the midst of despair.

As paramedics arrive on the scene, Harry is forced to release his grip on you, not without giving a fight, another paramedic holds him back, running soft circles onto him as his hands shake uncontrollably. He watches, a mix of fear and agony etched on his face, as they work to stabilize your fragile form.

His heart shatters with each passing second that lacks a sign of life. He whispers desperate prayers into the void, his voice trembling with emotion. "Please, don't take her away from me...I can’t…I can't live without….her…"

Finally, a flicker of movement, a gasp of breath escapes your lips. Harry's eyes widen in disbelief, his heart surging with a renewed sense of hope. "She's breathing…she’s breathing, you saw that…right?!" he exclaims, his voice filled with equal parts relief and disbelief.

As the paramedics prepare to transport you to the hospital, Harry is forced to release his grip on your hand, his gaze filled with a mix of longing and determination. 

"I'll be right behind you," he promises, his voice steady with resolve.

Alone in the hospital waiting room, Harry paces anxiously, his mind clouded with thoughts of what could have been lost. He replays the accident over and over in his mind, tormented by the what-ifs that haunt him.

He had been waiting just over an hour and half for someone to come and talk to him. Give him an update on what was going on with you.

Hours stretch into an agonizing eternity as he clings to the faint hope that you will recover. The sterile hospital walls offer no solace, and he finds himself retracing the steps that led you both to this point, questioning the fragility of life and the unpredictable turns it can take.

Finally, a weary doctor emerges from behind the double doors, his expression a mix of weariness and cautious optimism. Harry's heart lurches in his chest as he rushes towards the doctor, desperation etched on his face.

"How is she? Is she going to be alright?" Harry's voice trembles with a mix of fear and longing, his hands clenched into tight fists.

You needed to be okay.

The doctor meets Harry's gaze, his eyes filled with compassion. "She's stable now. It was a close call, but she's a fighter. She sustained some serious injuries, but we're doing everything we can to help her recover."

Relief washes over Harry, but it's quickly replaced by a wave of guilt. He clenches his jaw, his voice strained. "I should have been there to protect her. I should have... I should have done something."

The doctor places a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "Accidents happen, and it's not your fault. What matters now is supporting her through her recovery."

Harry nods, a mixture of determination and guilt playing across his features. "I'll be there for her. Every step of the way."

Days blend into nights as Harry sits vigil by your bedside, his fingers tracing the contours of your hand, desperate for any sign of improvement. The beeping machines and sterile hospital environment become your temporary reality, a stark contrast to the vibrant world you both once knew.

He called his mother about what happened to you and she and Gemma took the first flight to Los Angeles, so they could support not only you but him as well.

They forced him to go home and change his clothes, promising to call him if there was any news.

Sarah, Clare, Mitch, Adam and Jeff and Glenne were by your bedside as much as they could be but with there busy schedules it made it harder for them to be there.

In moments of silence, Harry finds solace in sharing memories of your love and laughter, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and longing. He whispers words of encouragement and love, as if the sheer force of his devotion could bring you back to consciousness.

And then, one day, a miracle unfolds. Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment, confusion clouds your gaze. But as you take in the sight of Harry, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, recognition dawns, and a feeble smile graces your lips.

"I'm here, love. You're going to be okay," Harry whispers, his voice laced with relief. He brushes a gentle hand against your cheek, his touch a testament to his unwavering love and devotion.

A month into your recovery, was when Harry finally realised just how bad the whole ordeal was affecting you.

Harry arrives home from grocery shopping, his arms laden with bags filled with fresh produce and essentials. He enters the bedroom, expecting to find you in your usual spot, engrossed in a book or working on a project. But what he sees stops him in his tracks.

There you sit, in your wheelchair, wearing nothing but a sports bra and shorts. Your eyes are fixed on the floor-length mirror before you, your gaze filled with a mix of vulnerability and frustration. Harry's heart skips a beat at the sight, his instinct to protect and comfort you kicking into high gear.

His eyes never leave your form in the mirror. With a deep breath, he approaches you, his voice soft and filled with love. "Hey, beautiful. What's on your mind?"

You startle at his voice, a mixture of embarrassment and sadness crossing your face. "Harry, look at me. I can't stand on my own. I feel so... broken."

You were struggling, really fucking struggling.

Harry kneels down beside you, his hands gently grasping yours. His gaze meets yours in the mirror, his voice filled with determination. "But look at everything you've overcome. You've faced unimaginable challenges, and yet here you are, still standing."

Tears well up in your eyes, a mixture of gratitude and self-doubt coursing through your veins. "I don't always feel strong, Harry. Sometimes, I feel defeated by my own body."

Harry's thumb strokes the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "I know it's not easy, and it's okay to have moments of doubt. But remember, you're not defined by what you can or can't do physically. Your strength shines through in countless other ways."

His words resonate within you, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your soul. You take a deep breath, allowing his words to wash over you. "I guess... I just miss feeling independent, like I used to."

Harry's eyes never leave yours, his voice filled with unwavering support. "You are independent, love. It may look different now, but that doesn't diminish your spirit or your worth. Remember the chorus of that song by Elton John? 'I'm still standing, yeah yeah yeah.'"

That was the song that was getting you through the hard days, the lyrics of the song reminded you that even though you had been through hell and back, you were in fact still standing.

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as the lyrics echo in your mind. You meet Harry's gaze, a flicker of determination in your eyes. "You're right. I'm still standing, and I won't let this define me."

Harry's face lights up with pride, his voice brimming with admiration. "That's my girl. Together, we'll face anything that comes our way. We'll rewrite the rules and show the world just how resilient we are."

You lean into him, finding solace in his embrace. In his arms, you feel a renewed sense of strength and acceptance. With Harry by your side, you know that you'll navigate this journey together, overcoming obstacles with unwavering love and unwavering determination.

As the echoes of Elton John's lyrics fade into the air, you realize that standing on your own two feet is not just about physical ability. It's about resilience, love, and the unwavering spirit that resides within. And together, you and Harry are an unbreakable force, ready to face any challenge that comes your way, still standing.

Memories of the accident resurface, the one that left you with a broken leg, a few broken ribs, and scars that tell a story of resilience and strength. The pain you endured during those days in the hospital, the grueling physical therapy sessions, and the long road to recovery—all of it has shaped you into the person you are today.

The accident left you with a lot of scars and sometimes, you didn’t like how they were on your body, you didn’t want them, you shouldn’t have had them in the first place had it not been for the drunk driver that had struck you.

One time, Harry had caught you sitting in the wheelchair the hospital provided you with and was sitting in front of the floor length mirror, eyes wet and feeling disgusted with the way your body now looked.

Lost in your thoughts, you feel a comforting presence beside you. Your fiancé, the person who has been your rock throughout this entire journey, sits down, his eyes filled with love and concern.

"What's on your mind, love?" Harry asks gently, their voice laced with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to share your thoughts. "I've been thinking a lot about everything that's happened, about how far I've come since the accident. The fear I had of losing my ability to play the guitar, to perform on stage, has slowly transformed into a burning desire to reclaim what I love."

Your fiancé listens intently, their hand finding yours, providing a comforting anchor in the depths of your vulnerability.

"I think I'm ready," you continue, your voice filled with determination. "I'm ready to join you back on tour as your guitarist. I want to step back into the spotlight, to feel the exhilaration of playing for a crowd again."

A flicker of excitement dances in their eyes as they take in your words. "Are you sure, love? I mean, I've seen your strength and resilience, but I want to make sure you're ready for the demands and challenges of touring."

You had thought it over. So many times, you kissed touring with him and not being on stage with him in what felt like forever, you just wanted a little bit or norm back in your life.

You smile, your gaze meeting theirs. "I am sure. The accident made me realize that life is too short to let fear hold me back. I want to embrace every opportunity that comes my way, and being on stage with you is the greatest opportunity of all."

Your fiancé's face lights up with a mixture of pride and love. "I've always believed in you, in your talent and your unwavering spirit. I can't express how happy I am to hear you say this."

Their words fill your heart with warmth, and you lean in, your forehead resting against theirs. "I couldn't have done it without your love and support. You've been my rock, my inspiration. And now, it's time for us to conquer the stage together."

24th June, 2023.

The day you would be back on stage, and reclaiming your spot next to Mitch as Harry’s guitarists.

As you stand before the mirror in the dressing room, your heart pounds with a mix of excitement and apprehension. It's been seven long months since the accident, the incident that left you scarred physically and emotionally. But tonight, you're stepping back onto the stage alongside your fiancé, the incredibly talented man that held your heart captive.

You peel off your clothes, revealing the remnants of the past—a tapestry of scars that litter your body. Each mark tells a story, a chapter of pain and healing. Your fingers trace the scars delicately, memories flooding back with each touch.

Your fingertips glide over the long, jagged scar on your stomach, a reminder of the surgery that saved your life. It stretches across your abdomen, a visible testament to the fragility of existence. You can still recall the sterile scent of the hospital, the sensation of being under anaesthesia, and the sound of the surgeon's voice assuring you that everything would be alright.

As you trace the path of the scar, tears well up in your eyes. The emotions overwhelm you—the fear, the vulnerability, the gratitude for being alive. You hastily wipe away the tears, refusing to let them consume you. You don't want Harry to see you like this—fragile, still grappling with the remnants of the accident.

Taking a deep breath, you collect yourself and begin to change into the performance outfit meticulously chosen for tonight's show. With each article of clothing, you shed the emotional weight and don a cloak of resilience.

But it's not just the scar on your stomach that serves as a reminder. Your fingers move upward, skimming over the faint marks on your chest. They are the remnants of broken ribs, the physical proof of the impact that threatened to shatter your entire being.

As your fingers dance across the scars, a mixture of emotions swirls within you. You remember the excruciating pain that radiated through your chest, making each breath a struggle. The nights spent gasping for air, wondering if you would ever be able to play guitar again. And yet, here you are, on the verge of reclaiming that stage.

When you finally emerge from the room, you plaster a smile on your face, determined to project confidence. Harry turns to you, his eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"Hey, love, you look absolutely stunning!" he exclaims, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

You glanced down at what you were wearing, nodding softly. You had decided to wear short sleeves tonight due to the humidity of the Belgian air and had gotten Elin and Madi to cover up the scars on your arms with foundation, if you had to get through this performance tonight without a hitch, you needed to make sure the fans didn’t see the state of your arms.

It wasn’t second nature to the fans and the world that you had been the victim of a car accident, paps had eaten the story up and it wasn’t long before the world were all feeling sorry for you, and telling you ‘get well soon.’

It wasn’t second nature that the fans knew you and Harry were in a relationship. They were happy for him, some fans weren’t, some were bitter but the majority were kind hearted.

The fans knew not to expect you to be on stage for a while, they liked your replacement , you just hoped they didn’t resent you for reclaiming your spot.

"Thank you," you reply, your voice tinged with a hint of nerves. "I'm so excited to perform with you again, sweet boy. It's been too long."

Harry nods, his eyes filled with adoration. "I've missed having you by my side on stage, baby. Tonight is going to be incredible."

When you first walked onto the stage with the rest of the band, the crowd cheered, happy to see you back.

You wanted to perform at Wembley when he was there but the 90,000 people just made your nerves too hard to get rid of.

It had gotten to the part of the show where Harry introduced the band helping him perform tonight.

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause, their cheers blending with the pounding of your heart.

Harry steps forward, his charm radiating as he takes hold of the microphone. "Thank you all so much!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "Tonight has been incredible, and I want to take a moment to introduce you to the extraordinary people who make this show possible."

The spotlight shifts, illuminating each member of the band in turn as Harry introduces them, acknowledging their talent and contributions. The crowd roars with approval, showing their love and appreciation for the musicians who have taken them on this unforgettable journey.

"And last, but certainly not least," Harry says, his eyes glimmering with affection as he turns toward you, "I want to welcome someone very special back to the stage tonight. Please give a round of applause for my incredible fiancée, who's been through so much and is now here, shining brighter than ever. Welcome back, (Y/N)!"

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause once again, their cheers echoing throughout the venue. The sound washes over you, filling you with warmth and a renewed sense of purpose. Harry walks over to you, his smile radiant as he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"I'm so proud of you, love," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. "You're incredible."

Touched by his words and the overwhelming support of the crowd, you turn to face the audience, a beaming smile adorning your face. You raise a hand in gratitude, acknowledging their cheers and the immense love they've shown.

The performance took a turn for the worst when Harry was performing Matilda.

As Harry takes the centre stage, his voice resonates through the venue, captivating the crowd with his heartfelt rendition of "Matilda." You stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder with Sarah, Madi, and Elin, proud to be part of his performance.

However, as the heat intensifies under the stage lights, the foundation covering the scars on your arms begins to melt away, slowly revealing the marks beneath. Unbeknownst to you, a group of fans standing in the front row notices the scars and begins to snicker and laugh, their insensitivity cutting through the air.

Caught off guard, you glance down at your arms, now exposed for all to see. Shame washes over you, accompanied by a deep sense of vulnerability. The laughter echoes in your ears, a cruel reminder of the pain you carry on a daily basis.

The song concludes, and as you go to step back, picking up your guitar, tears well up in your eyes. The weight of their laughter presses heavily on your heart, and without a second thought, you bolt offstage, seeking solace in the privacy of the dressing room.

You stumble through the corridors, your vision blurred by tears. Jeff, who was standing on the side stage, attempted to touch your arm and see if he could do anything but you bolted straight past him, too upset to even attempt to speak.

Finally, you reach the dressing room, the door becoming a barrier between you and the outside world. You lock it behind you, the sound of the latch giving you a brief sense of security.

Collapsing onto a chaise lounge, sobs wrack your body as you struggle to catch your breath. The pain of their laughter reverberates through you, and the scars that you've worked so hard to embrace now feel like glaring flaws. In this moment of despair, you feel utterly alone.

Through your tear-stained face, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The scars etched on your arms serve as a painful reminder of the journey you've travelled—a journey that has tested your resilience and strength. But at this moment, they seem to mock you, amplifying your vulnerability.

You don’t know how long you were sitting there.

But the panic that has gripped your chest refuses to subside, and the air feels thin, suffocating.

Amidst your distress, you hear Harry's desperate pleas from the other side of the door, his voice filled with concern and love.

"Please, love," he implores, his voice cracking. "Let me in. I need to be with you. I can't bear to see you like this."

You find it difficult to think, your mind clouded by fear and self-doubt. Harry's words echo in your ears, but a part of you hesitates, questioning whether you should expose him to your vulnerable state.

Yet, Harry persists, his voice growing more desperate with each passing moment.

"Please, just open the door," he pleads again. "I'll do anything to make this better. Just let me in."

As the minutes stretch on, your panic intensifies. The room feels smaller, the air heavier, and you begin to scratch at your arms, hoping to erase the scars that have become a constant reminder of your pain. The act is born out of frustration, a desperate attempt to regain control over your emotions.

But the more you scratch, the more the scars stand out against your skin, marking the battles you've fought and the strength you've shown. The pain intensifies, both physical and emotional, and your nails dig deeper into your flesh.

Finally, Harry's voice breaks through the chaos in your mind.

"Love, please," he pleads once more. "I can't stand being separated from you like this. Please, open the door."

His words penetrate your fog of panic, stirring a flicker of clarity within you. You realise that shutting him out would only deepen the isolation you feel. With trembling hands, you reach for the lock, slowly turning it until the latch clicks, allowing Harry to step into the room.

Harry rushes toward you, his eyes wide with worry, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. Your breath hitches as he embraces you, his warmth and steady heartbeat serving as an anchor amidst the storm raging inside you.

But as the panic continues to surge, your scratching becomes more frantic, fueled by the desperation to rid yourself of the scars. Harry's eyes widen as he notices your self-destructive actions, his heart aching at the sight.

"Stop, love," Harry pleads, his voice filled with a mix of concern and determination. He gently grasps your hands, restraining them from causing further harm. "Please, you don't need to do this. Your scars don't define you. They are a testament to your strength and resilience."

Tears stream down your face as you struggle to find your voice amidst the overwhelming emotions.

"Harry," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling, "the fans... they laughed at me. I feel so exposed, so broken."

Harry's hold on you tightens, his voice filled with unwavering support. "Love, never forget what Elton John said in 'I'm Still Standing.' 'I'm still standing after all this time.' We've faced adversity together, and we've triumphed. We won't let their laughter dim your light."

His words wash over you, reminding you of the battles you've fought, the hurdles you've overcome. In that moment, you realise that their laughter, though painful, is a reflection of their ignorance, not your worth.

As Harry's arms enfold you, a newfound resolve begins to take hold. You slowly cease

Your frantic scratching, your nails no longer leaving trails of desperation on your skin. Instead, you allow Harry's touch to calm you, to remind you that you are not alone in this struggle.

As you gradually regain control of your breath, Harry's soothing voice fills the room once again. "You are beautiful, inside and out," he assures you. "Those scars are a part of your journey, a testament to the strength that resides within you. They are not something to be ashamed of."

With each word, the weight of the fans' laughter begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of self-acceptance. You realise that their cruel taunts are not a reflection of your worth but a testament to their own insecurities and ignorance.

In that moment of revelation, you look into Harry's eyes, finding solace in his unwavering gaze. He pulls you closer, his embrace a shield against the world's judgments.

"You are loved," he whispers, his voice filled with conviction. "By me, by your fans, by all those who see the incredible person you are."

After the storm of emotions, Harry guides you to rest your head on his lap, finding comfort in his presence. He senses your need for warmth and reaches for a soft blanket that carries his familiar scent. As he carefully drapes it over your body, you feel an instant sense of security, as if his love and protection have enveloped you.

Harry pulls out his phone, his brow furrowed with concern. He dials Jeff's number, his voice steady but laced with an undertone of worry.

"Jeff, mate," he begins, "I need to talk to you. We can't continue with the show right now. (Y/N)s head is in a bad place, and she needs me here with her."

You hated letting the fans down as much as Harry did, but right now, you needed him, you needed him more than anything right now.

As he speaks, his free hand finds its way to your hair, his fingers gently running through the strands. The soothing motion sends waves of comfort through your body, easing the tension that had gripped your soul.

There's a brief pause as Jeff responds on the other end of the line. Harry's voice grows firmer as he continues, his protective instincts kicking in. "I know, Jeff, but she's my priority. We can't push her right now. She needs time and space to heal. I hope you understand."

You feel the weight of his determination, his unwavering commitment to your well-being. His words, spoken with conviction, serve as a reminder that you are not alone in this battle.

As the conversation with Jeff continues, your body begins to relax, the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster setting in. Harry's touch and his voice lull you into a state of tranquillity, your eyelids growing heavy.

You listen to Harry's voice, a mix of concern and reassurance, as he explains the situation to Jeff. The sound of his voice becomes a soothing melody, guiding you towards much-needed rest. The world outside the dressing room fades away, and in that moment, it's just you and Harry, wrapped in a cocoon of love and understanding.

With Harry's presence anchoring you,drifting you into a peaceful slumber, your mind dances on the edge of consciousness. Harry's comforting presence lingers, filling the room with a sense of love and security. In the hazy realm between wakefulness and dreams, you hear his soft voice whispering.

"I love you," Harry murmurs, his words like a gentle caress against your skin. His declaration of love resonates deep within your heart, a reminder that you are cherished and adored.

In the quiet of the room, Harry's fingers trace the scars on your forearm from when you hit the ground and the skin collided with the concrete of the floor, resulting in a skin graft on both arms, with delicate reverence.

His touch is tender, his love evident in every stroke. With each pass of his fingers, you feel a mixture of vulnerability and acceptance, knowing that he sees beyond the scars and embraces every part of you.

Touched by his gesture, you shift slightly, gazing up at him through half-closed eyes. The love shining in his eyes mirrors the love you hold in your heart.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and in a soft voice filled with gratitude, you whisper, "I love you too, Harry."

His lips curve into a gentle smile, and without hesitation, he leans down to press a loving kiss against the scars on your arms. The warmth of his lips against your skin sends a rush of emotions cascading through your veins—a blend of love, acceptance, and healing.

In that tender moment, you realise that Harry's love is not conditional. It extends far beyond the physical, embracing the entirety of who you are—scars and all. With his unwavering support, you find the strength to embrace your own journey, to let go of the pain inflicted by others' judgement.

As Harry's lips leave a trail of love and reassurance upon your scars, you feel a renewed sense of self-acceptance. You understand that love has the power to heal, to transcend the wounds of the past. With each kiss, Harry affirms that you are worthy of love and that your scars are a testament to your strength.

In the warmth of his embrace, you feel a newfound sense of peace settle within you. The doubts and insecurities that plagued your mind are replaced with a quiet confidence, knowing that you are loved unconditionally.

One thing was for sure though.

Just like the legend that is Elton John Said:

I’m Still Standing.

In fact you were standing better than you ever had, with the support of friends and family and the one man you don’t think you could ever stop loving.

You were starting to look like a true survivor, and not so much a little kid when you got overwhelmed looking at the scars on your arms from the impact of the accident.

“I’m Still Standing…” you whispered , voice slightly scratchy.

Harry smiled, letting out a small sniffle, “— yeah you are baby…yeah you are.”

[theprettynosferatu]

State of the Blog, December, 2024

IN THE GRIM DARKNESS OF THE FAR FUTURE THERE IS ONLY KINK

Sorry. Couldn't help myself. I have to say, there is a part of me that looks forward and sees grim and dark times indeed. So this might be a bit of a bummer post- feel free to skip it and resume your blessed edging. Edging pleases She Who Thirsts.

I - On Output

Well, we're back to a semi-regular schedule! I've been managing to write a lot more than on the first half of the year and the Library keeps growing! I haven't been able to do as many captions as I'd like for a variety of issues, which will be addressed in another section.

I do want to write more short, direct-to-reader texts. It might seem silly, but those texts are for me harder to write than stories: since they don't have the structure of a regular narrative tale, they need to come from a particular mood on my part, which has been elusive these days. But I really want to make more of them when I can.

But to be honest I'm quite happy that after months of semi dormancy I was able to write and produce stuff for you all!

II - On Captions and AI

Yes I'm still using AI and yes I still hate it- and I haven't found a viable alternative yet. See the previous state of the blog for details.

One of the keys, to me, to making captions is to look at a picture and see what vibe I get, what secret longing could be hidden behind it, how it can be transformed by text into something both new and enhanced by the image itself- and AI sucks for that. For every caption I make, I stare at or try to generate a ton of images. There's a... soulless quality to most of what the machine spits out. I can't quite put my finger on it. Can't simulate a soul, I suppose.

III - On The Current Times and Kink

Perhaps you've noticed a slight shift in tone lately. For instance, I've only written commissions that were girl/girl since the election, and the captions have more or less steered away from themes of female submission.

I'm sure this is a temporary thing, and I'll be back on my patriarchy kink train soon enough- but it feels a bit iffy to make such content right now. When assholes are screaming "your body, my choice" outside of kink, in real life... well, it feels a lot less like fun escapism, doesn't it? The last thing I want to ever do with my content is to harm someone or contribute to an ideology I absolutely despise.

So just to recap: fuck fascists, fuck real sexists, fuck real racists, fuck anyone that ever sees someone else as lesser. And a special fuck you to transphobes- emboldened little twerps.

So be kind to one another. Help one another, especially if you are in America. A lot of shit is going to happen, and mutual aid and support will be crucial.

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Rain

My contribution to @elriel-month. This is just something I decided to whip up for my friends and other folks to read. Ever since joining the fandom in December 2023, I've met so many kindhearted Elriel fans that I wanted to give back to. This little piece is probably best for the Choice prompt. (Yes, I'm late. Sue me.) Go easy on me please, as I haven't written for a fandom in years lol.

*Inspired by the song Rain by Sleep Token, who I just know Azriel would be a fan of*

Word Count: 1.5k

*Divider by @tsunami-of-tears* (Check out their blog and other pretty dividers!!)

Pain. Blood. Torture. Death. 

For the better part of five hundred years, Azriel has been subjected to unfathomable horrors, the kinds that would no doubt break a human male’s spirit. As the Night Court’s stealthy spymaster and feared shadowsinger, it’s been his job to inflict unendurable pain upon the bodies of his enemies. He spills their traitorous blood and tortures them into the long hours of the night until they have no choice but to finally succumb to death’s sweet song. 

It’s become a routine, so much so that the panicked screams and the precise slicing of his most prized dagger feel like second nature. He doesn’t blink as they plead for their lives. He doesn’t flinch as crimson liquid splatters across his cheeks, in his hair, down his hands. He takes away life as easily as the Mother creates it. And just as Rhysand has perfected the mask of the High Lord, Azriel has mastered his own cruel, stoic front. 

On nights like tonight, however, Azriel questions if he truly does have a mask, or if the centuries spent brutally maiming wolves in sheep's skin has turned him into an irreparable monster. The voices in his head are loud enough to wake creatures that have been asleep for hundreds of years, and a long flight around Velaris does nothing to silence them. Even the shadows at his shoulders swirl in agitation as the words replay on a loop in his mind. 

Killer. 

Bastard. 

Good for nothing. 

Irredeemable. 

Unworthy. 

It is only until he gently opens the front door to his home that he feels some kind of relief. The kitchen smells like jasmine and banana bread, courtesy of the warm loaf cooling down on the marble countertop. A cozy heat burns from the stone fireplace, and the lights in every room are dimmed to a soft glow. And he only permits himself to breathe when his hazel eyes connect with the beautiful brown ones that belong to the most exquisite female he’s ever had the pleasure of calling his. 

Elain Archeron. His love. His lifeline. His Mother-given solace. 

She rises from the sofa, setting aside her book and abandoning the treat she’d been munching on to stand before him. He doesn’t move or speak as her eyes drink him in, observing the blood on his leathers and assessing for visible injuries. Satisfied with the lack of wounds, Elain gives him a small smile and gently reaches for his hand, guiding him into the bathroom. 

Hot steam and the scent of eucalyptus fill the air as Elain turns on the shower. It was the first renovation they’d wanted for their home, a bathing stall large enough to accommodate the both of them, along with the width of Illyrian wings. 

Azriel watches as Elain delicately works the soiled leathers down his body. Her brows furrow slightly at a few small gashes along his chest and side, but before she can fret, his thumb rubs away the tension from the crease. 

“I’m okay,” he says. He means it, too. Her presence has always been a comfort for him. All he’s ever felt around her was peace, something he never thought he would find let alone deserve. On nights where his thoughts run rampant, a soft smile is enough to break the vicious cycle of self criticism. 

Her lips quirk, not fully believing him. Azriel may be the spymaster who can conceal his emotions with ease, but Elain had effortlessly clocked the haunted look in his eyes when he’d first crossed the threshold. “Physically, yes. But I worry more about what goes on up here,” She taps his temple twice. “What can I do to help?” 

Elain’s perception astonishes him. Her ability to pick up the subtle changes in his voice or mood has only grown sharper the longer they’ve been together. Their quiet understanding of each other is something neither one will ever take for granted. To be loved is to be seen, to be wholly understood, and they’ve never taken their eyes off each other since the moment they met. 

But his thoughts were a bit too loud tonight, and the last thing Azriel ever wants is for Elain to worry. And so he says, “You’ve done more than enough already, my love, by simply being here with me. Let me wash, and then I’ll read with you, hm?” With a chaste kiss to her forehead, Azriel enters the shower and slides the door closed. 

Searing water pelts his skin when he steps underneath the shower head hanging from the ceiling. The droplets feel like rain, cleansing him of every violent act he willingly committed in the last several hours as part of his duty to the court. Hands braced against the wall, he silently watches the bloody water race down his body and swirl around the drain. His eyes flutter momentarily, allowing the heat to soak into his aching muscles. 

Behind him, a soft palm latches onto his bicep, turning him from the wall. Elain stands before him, wet and gloriously naked, with a bottle of shampoo in her other hand. She waits for his permission, letting her back hit the cool tile as he cages her against the opposite wall. When he nods, eyes never breaking from hers, she lathers the shampoo in her hands. 

“What are you thinking about?” Elain probes gently, delicate fingers working the soap into his hair. Azriel can’t stop himself from leaning into her touch, allowing her to take care of him in the way only she knows how. 

After a long moment, he whispers hoarsely, “Sometimes I wonder if this is who I am. That this job…this life…that in trying to rid the world of evil, I’ve become it.” His throat bobs once as a few tears slip down his cheeks. “Some days the thoughts are louder than others. Tonight they were relentless.” 

Elain listens intently, switching to a bar of soap to clean his chest, his arms, his back and legs, and finally his wings. All he can do is gaze at this beautiful female as he pours his heart out. He’s never been a man of many words, but Elain makes him want to talk forever. To share his joy, his pain. His hopes and fears. To shed his armor and bare his soul to her. 

“When I came home,” he breathes, fingers moving from the wall to trail down her cheek, her neck. Her skin flushes, and not from the heat of the water. Azriel chuckles softly. “All it took was one look from you and my head went quiet. The power you hold, Elain…not a single person in this world has ever been able to do what you’ve done for me.” 

She’s trying to focus on his words, the love that fills them, but gasps a breath as his hand skims down the side of her breast, warmth building in her core. He can scent it, she knows, by the way his nose flares slightly. “And how exactly do I look at you?” 

The corners of his lips twitch upward, palm finally resting against her hip. He tugs her closer so their chests touch, never wanting to have even a sliver of space between them. “Like I’m worthy,” he answers. “Of love and happiness and everything in between. All things that I’ve found once you waltzed into my life and chose me.” 

A choice that he would never truly believe was real, if only considering it a beautiful dream. 

A choice that Elain had made with such unwavering conviction, it had brought him to tears. 

A choice that allowed them to love each other openly, for the rest of their existence. 

“You’ve always been worthy, Azriel,” Elain says, mouth ghosting over his own as her hands tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Your job is not who you are. You put on a mask and play a role, just like we all do. And underneath that mask, is the most gentle, kind-hearted, beautiful male. Choosing you was the easiest decision of my life because you made it easy, just by being who you are. And I will continue to choose you until my last breath.” 

He lets the tears fall freely now because vulnerability has never been something to shy away from, not with her. She tenderly wipes the tears with her thumbs, holding his face with a gentleness that shatters his heart.   

“I’ve waited for you for a very long time, Elain, to the point where I almost gave up on finding any semblance of love or joy or tranquility,” Azriel says truthfully. The sheer longing in his bright hazel eyes tugs on her heart strings. 

“Well, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, handsome,” She replies playfully through a wet laugh, bumping her nose against his as tears mix with water. “But I hope you know that I would choose you in every single lifetime, no matter what. You are so completely mine, Azriel.” 

He kisses her. He kisses her hard and long and fierce, claiming her mouth with a passion solely reserved for her alone. His arms slide underneath her thighs, laughing quietly at her brief shriek as he lifts her against the wall, one hand gripping her wrists against the tile above her head. The wicked smile she flashes his way is as stunning as a sunflower field in springtime, and the only thought now in his mind is how utterly thankful he is for the beautiful female in front of him. 

“And you, Elain Archeron, are so completely mine.”

[solitude-of-stars]

Yesterday I got accused of using AI for my writing

At first, it simply baffled me. Then I thought about it for a while until I didn't really know what to think or feel anymore. Anger? Amusement? Resignation?

A bit of context:

This December I posted an Advent Calendar for the fandom I'm most active in. One fic a day for 24 days. Various ships and other relationships, various plots and AUs, and all that jazz. I'm assuming this is what the person is referring to by mentioning "mass production".

Now, I know there are people out there that actually write a fic a day. I might have even tried something like that had I been younger, but these days I'm working full time, I'm married, and I need to do annoying things like chores, so I definitely didn't have the time or mental capacity to do that. Instead, I started planning and writing the fics in mid October and it took me almost two months to finish all of them. I don't know exactly what mass production in the context of AI fic means, but I have a hunch that writing roughly 27k words in the span of two months is not that.

I am also not a native speaker. I've been writing fic on and off for over 15 years, but I've only really started writing in English less than two years ago. I take great pride in it, and I've always gotten very positive feedback. Not a lot (because my fandom is mostly dead by now), but whenever people comment, they are very kind and supportive.

Nevertheless, deep down I still expect criticism of my writing. Bad grammar, wrong use of idioms, awkward wordflow ... you name it, I've probably worried about it. There's this feeling that probably a lot of non-native speakers experience: that you have to be better than most native authors to even be considered good enough. Every little mistake, typo, every awkwardly written sentence is proof that you're 'faking it', and that people will see you for the fraud you actually are and tell you to just go back writing in the language you're used to. No one has ever actually told me that, fortunately, but it's a feeling that has been persistently nagging at me since I changed to writing in English.

So yeah, I expected criticism. I just didn't expect this particular brand of it.

I understand the concern about AI fanfics. Really, I do. I read about fandoms getting flooded by authors churning out fic after fic after fic. Personally, I am very lucky that the fandom I write for is so small that AI is basically non-existent (as far as I know). There's only been one author who openly wrote a fic by using generative AI, but the fandom collectively chose to ignore it. No hits, no comments, no interaction all together, until the author deleted the fic.

Now, the only use of AI one could maybe accuse me of is that of an online translator, in the rare case I'm searching for a word/sentence and it's not this abstract feeling but something I can actually pinpoint in my native tongue. But that's it. I've never even considered using AI for one of my fics, because writing has always been enjoyable to me. Why would I leave something that gives me joy to a machine to do it for me?

But, in all honesty, I don't think the bad part about the comment I got was that the person thought I might have been using AI. Because I know I didn't, and most of my readers know it as well.

No, the devastating part to me is that the person feels the quality of my fic can be compared to whatever it is AI would spit out. That's what's getting to me.

I don't actually mind constructive criticism. Maybe it's a generational thing, but I grew up on fanfiction sites where you were actively encouraged to tell the author how they could do better. There were how-to-write-comments that gave you pointers what to focus on, and what could be considered helpful constructive criticism.

Or maybe this is actually a cultural thing. Coming from a country of people that are generally considered very -and sometimes uncomfortably - honest, I don't mind people telling me if there's something specific I could improve on. Will it sting? Yeah. But keep it nice and civil, and I won't be angry at you for it - I'll appreciate it.

Comparing my writing to, or even accusing it of being written by AI, feels like something entirely different. It's a very simple way of saying that what I write is something even below mediocrity. That it reads like it was written by an algorithm that can't understand and will never experience human feelings. Can't comprehend emotions, something that can't be captured by lots of 1s and 0s. Equates me to a thing that takes the stories and feelings other people created, before bunching it all up into one big pile of words, lifeless and replaceable.

And that's what's getting to me. I always thought my fics were good. Not great, but good enough that I personally enjoy rereading them. Writing helped me through some hard times, helped me find joy in creating again, something I remember from when I was younger but hadn't felt all throughout college. Writing was fun, a wonderful way to pass the time, and a way to connect with other people who enjoy the same nerdy stuff as me.

Now I don't feel like writing anymore.

Some people will probably say I'm exaggerating. That it's just one comment among many positive ones. And they'll be right. It's only one comment, but just like one bad day can make you feel like all the good ones you accumulated before don't matter, one bad comment can negate all the positive ones.

Fortunately, I had many people come to my defense already. Geat people that keep telling me I have worth. That congratulated me for writing 24 fics in time, that tell me I improve with every fic I write, and that never get tired of being simply awesome human beings. I'm lucky to have them.

My anxiety keeps telling me they're all wrong. That the one person is right, and that I should just stop trying. That I'm not good enough, that I will never be good enough, and that it's a miracle I've managed to fool them this long anyway.

Now, I will get over it. I know I will. I'll meet my friends and celebrate New Year's, I'll read a good book, listen to some music, play some Skyrim, and, before I know it, I'll be back in the mood for more writing. I can handle it. Because my enjoyment will be more important, in the end.

But you know who wouldn't have gotten over it this easily?

16 year old me. She would have been completely gutted over getting a comment like this. And I know there are many teens like her out there who are probably getting similar comments on their fics. And they don't deserve this.

So I guess what I want to say with my elaborate rambling is this:

Please stay kind. I know, AI is terribe, and seeing people using it to do something that you enjoy, and take over all those safe spaces we have built for ourselves, flooding carefully curated and beloved tags, is incredibly frustrating. And I'm afraid that I don't have a solution for that.

But please think twice before throwing around accusations like the one I've gotten. Maybe you actually find somebody who secretly used AI. They probably won't care enough to stop. But more likely you'll find someone who's just taking their first steps, deciding to write and post something they care about. That takes incredible courage, especially for people that write in a language that isn't their native one. They simply want to reach people, want to interact with them in a way that wouldn't be possible in their own language.

Don't ruin it for them.

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

https://www.tumblr.com/didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback/771101988545069056/guiris-complain-about-everything

as an american who’s been supporting barça and watching soccer/football since i was 6 (thanks to my father and grandfather) ppl like this make me want to put my head through a wall. it is so much better to sit back quietly and learn than to look stupid all over the internet.

hi anon - thanks for your message. and even though it's día de los inocentes/dia dels sants innocents, i'm going to get serious for a moment. (by the way, @useless-catalanfacts has a good post about how we celebrate this day here!)

it is quite wonderful that so many people outside of spain are interested in barça and invested in our players, and as a result, want to know more about spain, barcelona, catalunya, and its culture. and we are very happy to share that with others! 🙏

what is not okay and quite annoying are some of the posts i've seen this week, either making fun of our food and christmas traditions (the worst was a post making fun of alexia, sopa de galets, and eating disorders 🙄) and getting angry for not understanding our holidays and culture.

the other point i want to make is that a lot of our content is written in spanish or catalan for a spanish and/or catalan audience. so if you don't understand what is going on, don't get upset! rather, research it on your own or ask someone to explain it to you! 🤔

like the tweet early this morning: it was written by a spanish person in spanish about a spanish player and using a parody of the break-up post of the most famous spanish lesbian youtube couple/influencers on 28 december (spanish april fool's day). clearly, the intended audience knew exactly what was going on. 😅

so instead of getting upset and having a knee jerk reaction online, like frankly so many people have been doing all week and what the american did in the post you were referencing, stop and think and ask!

anyway, i think it's only a minority of people who are acting this way, but it's frustrating for the rest of us when this type of discussion starts dominating the discourse. so this is just another reminder! 🙏

let's all have a good laugh today and enjoy ourselves! 😄

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Christmas Celebration - Requests

Requests are CLOSED

FANDOMS: Twisted Wonderland & Obey Me!

(I'm thinking of having 10 slots for Twisted Wonderland and 10 slots for Obey Me, or I'll close it when I feel like I have enough or too many requests for me to handle 😅)

I wanted to open requests again and I thought the best time to do it would be around Christmas time. You know, as gifts for you. 🎁

Meanwhile, I haven't had the time to open more requests and my number of followers grew very quickly, so I ended up skipping the other follower milestones celebrations.

But now I'm taking the opportunity to also celebrate 3000 Followers as well. THANK YOU SO MUCH! 🥰

If you want to see the list of previous requests, here it is:

500 Followers Celebration - Requests

1000 Followers Celebration - Requests

Please click on keep reading below to see the rules.

I WILL NOT WRITE:

NSFW / smut

Yandere

Dark Themes / Themes that require some kind of trigger warning. (Examples: suicide, eating disorders, abuse, etc.)

Angst UNLESS it ends with fluff/comfort 

I like to read these kinds of things for comfort, so I also write to comfort the reader. So something that strays too far from that, I won't write.

No need to request Yuutsu 3, I will write it, I'm just waiting for the event to go to the Eng Server. 😉 Or kissing under the mistletoe, I've already written, it will be published in December. ❤️

I only write Reader-inserts. (Reader being MC/Yuu)

If it's something short like headcanons that are usually bullet points you can ask for as many characters as you want. If it's something longer please ask for fewer characters.

I always write Gender Neutral Reader. If you want a specific gender, I just feel comfortable writing Fem Reader, since I myself am one.

I follow the English Server. So please don't ask me for anything about history and/or events that have only happened on the Japanese Server. Sorry.

No Royal Sword Academy Students. Because I don't know them well enough to know how to write them.

I always follow Canon. So no crazy AUs.*

*I can write simpler things like: What would it be like if they became babies, what would it be like in situation X if they were MC/Yuu's boyfriends, things like that. I can not write things that are extremely far from canon like literal alternate universes, crossovers with other series or games, if they were all vampires, things like that.

I only write Reader-inserts.

If it's something short like headcanons that are usually bullet points you can ask for as many characters as you want. If it's something longer please ask for fewer characters.

I always write Gender Neutral Reader. If you want a specific gender, I just feel comfortable writing Fem Reader, since I myself am one.

Characters that are part of the Intimacy System only. In Luke's case, uniquely platonic. I still don't know enough about Mephistopheles, Thirteen or Raphael to know how to write them.

If necessary, tell me which timeline you would like: Original or Nightbringer. Otherwise, I'll pick the one that I think will make the most sense.

I always follow Canon. But if you want some kind of AU, please let it be something I can adapt to some Levi’s cursed game or Satan's cursed book or something like that.

You can make your requests by asking me.

If you landed on this post out of nowhere and want to know read some of the things I've already written, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[turbulentscrawl]

very curious abt your oc 👀...

The time is now... To preface, I made this character back in December, before Faro Lady was even teased, and I'm not willing to change Evelye's name...but for the sake of sparing confusion, I'll call her Evie most of the time.

(I'm also going to start posting some of the blurbs I've written about Evie and Luchino later.)

Warnings for canon-typical violence, cannibalism, and one mention of sex.

Evelyne Bailey, The Butcher

Age: 29 Nationality: American Likes: cicadas, needlework Dislikes: winter, mystery meat, teeth Talents: cooking, cleaning, trapping wild game Favorite Dish: Fried Okra

Test Indicators:

Selective Food Intolerance

Delusional Paranoia

emotionally starved

She is from America in Appalachia, and her backstory is loosely inspired by the Beast in the Cave.

Evelyne was an only child and her folks ran a little ranch/butchery kitchen in a small mountain town. They were sweet, generous people… Then somewhere in her youth, they made "friends" with strangers who lived further into the mountain range, and in time began killing travelers who passed through town, even going so far as to butcher, and eat them. Evelyne was young enough to not fully grasp what they were doing, and by the time she did, she felt it was too late for her to stop going along with it. Her parents grew to be dark and twisted people, and she took up running the store front due to how horrifying they'd become in appearance and behavior. As she grew older, she helped lure male travelers home for this process.

External Traits

TIDY UP

The Butcher knows how to clean up a mess. The trail left by the Butcher disappears 1.5 seconds faster. After taking damage, she leaves no trail at all for 3 seconds.

BREAD CRUMBS?

The Butcher has a bag of Remains and can use them to mislead a hunter by creating a fake trail for them to follow. At the start of a match she has enough Remains to leave a trail up to 30 meters long. This trail can persist up to 30 seconds and only one trail can exist at a time. Additionally, a new trail will activate the Hunter's tinnitus for the first five seconds after being placed. This ability can be recharged by healing teammates. Each time The Butcher heals one instance of damage, she recovers enough Remains for 10 meters of trail.

STERILIZED

Survivors healed by the Butcher have been thoroughly cleaned and leave no trail for 10 seconds.

HEMOPHOBIA

The sight of a bleeding human makes the Butcher uneasy. She heals allies 10% slower.

PERSONALITY/GENERAL HCS

Evie’s experience running a store front has made her a decent actress. She has above-average persuasion skills and can maintain a friendly facade during small talk. She flounders with deeper conversation, however, and has a tendency to shut down when asked about her pre-Europe past.

Evie’s living situation for the last few years back in Appalachia has made her paranoid of people. She believes that, since her own parents turned on her, everyone else is capable of it as well. Additionally, she’s afraid that people will try to slip her human meat for consumption without her knowledge. Evie is functionally a pescatarian; she will not eat non-fish meat that she did not hunt, butcher, and prepare herself from start to finish. (Beyond this, however, she is not a picky eater.)

Evie refuses to talk about her years in Appalachia. She’s convinced that if people knew what she did, everyone would turn on her and the manor would become her eternal hell. On some level, she thinks she’s a monster deserving of that fate. But her fear is too strong for her to test the waters.

Her paranoia has also made her very aware of physical body language. She’s only average at analyzing people’s words, but she was so used to watching her parents for signs they may attack her again, that she’s excellent at spotting tension, fear, and anger in others. She has also memorized the sounds of every hunter’s and survivor’s footsteps to identify them at a distance. Anyone familiar with paranoid behaviour will notice that she has a tendency to periodically slow down or pause completely during any noise-making activity and listen. When footsteps can be heard, she stops to identify who it is, and only resumes working when she’s determined it’s someone she trusts, or when they’ve passed.

Evie also suffers from nightmares and sudden bouts of extreme nausea.

While friendly at face-value, Evie is paranoid and distrusting of people. At the end of the day, she puts her own security and safety above anyone else's. She avoids standing within arms reach of people, and jerks away if someone leans close, as a reflex to avoid being bitten.

Her pain tolerance is a bit higher than average. Which is fortunate, because she's slightly resistance to pain-relieving medications. She's also somewhat resistant to anesthetics.

She's most comfortable with the Arms Factory and Dark Woods maps, as the taller trees and dense forests remind her a bit of home. She occasionally goes out to trap fresh meat from these maps when they're not in use--this has led to some tension with the Gamekeeper....

Evelyn's relationship with Luchino is a bit complicated. In the beginning she's nervous about him. He's polite and kind enough, but he has a quiet masculinity and bodily enhancements that make him a physical threat to her. But he's private and respectful, and Evie is emotionally and physically starved, so the door is first cracked open through casual sex. Over time, the things that first made her scared of him begin to make her feel safer around him. He's observant, and has good intuition, so he's good at anticipating and curbing Evie's paranoia bouts before they get too bad. The situation with Evil Reptilian further complicates things, as it gives Evie a window into the part of Luchino most like her parents. But at the end of the day, he might just be the bridge she needs to accept her own past and what it means for her own identity.

A Snippet of Evelyne's First Match

Evelyne could not hide from this “game” under the covers of her bed, it seemed. Though she had tried very hard to clutch her sheets, had squeezed her eyes shut until they ached, when she opened them again she was standing in an unfamiliar, forgotten church. The scene was dilapidated, dark, and dreary. If there was a sun, it was hidden behind an endless expanse of murky clouds. It was quiet, save the ominous caw of ravens outside.

Though it had taken Evelyne nearly too long to figure out what she was meant to do with a messenger bag filled with remains–bloody rags and scraps of cloth, tiny chunks of cartilage, bone, fresh offal–it was certainly coming in handy for the twists and turns of ruins. They worked well as gruesome “bread crumbs,” spiraling and coiling in confusing patterns around the crumbling ruins of the ominous church to mislead this Hunter into chasing a false injured prey. She had not so much as seen the face of the Hunter yet, but knew he or she was on-and-off her trail by the strange hammering of her heart. Sometimes she seemed to lose them entirely, thanks to those trails, but they were growing closer. Smarter, perhaps, or used to her tricks.

Another gong-like sound echoed in the distance. That was the second ‘cipher,’ she believed, which left three more to go. That seemed like too long.

Evelyne paused next to a set of lockers to catch her breath. The crackly voices of her ‘teammates’ sounded off in her earpiece with their decoding progress. For a moment, her fear seemed to ebb and Evelyne thought she might finally be in the clear.

A wave of fog suddenly surged over a wall and towards her, and before she could even wonder where it had come from, the Seer’s owl dropped down from the sky in front of her. It cut through the fog with wings like blades, and then surged off again with a screech, leaving Evelyne frozen and confused. All at once, she was hit with the feeling that she was in greater danger, that her enemy had just gotten stronger somehow, and that she was being watched.

A chill ran up her spine just before the wall across from her came crashing down.

Evelyne briefly took in a gangly man with a top had and a hand of long razors climbing over the rubble–giggling–before she took off in a sprint through the maze. Another rush of fog surged after her, and her feet kicked up dirt and dust with her skidding attempts to dodge. When it flew past, she swore it felt like someone had grazed her with a knife. As she doubled-back around a sharp bend, she heard a sickeningly sweet voice calling from beyond the walls.

“How tasteless of you,” the unsettling man said with raised volume. “Leaving me only stale, rotting scraps about when your fresh meat is so close at hand!” She felt eyes on her back again, but couldn't place from where. Another gong, but this time the sound covered the one of another crumbling wall.

It collapsed on top of her, and Evelyne dropped under the crushing weight with a cry of pain. Some of the rubble had cracked against her skull and now the dreary world was spinning and pulsing. The gangly, too-tall, top-hatted man stands over her, wiggling his knife fingers like he’s waving hello. The blades were almost as long as her arms; he had to stand at least 7 feet.

“Finally I get to meet you face to face,” he says. “You can call me Jack, my lady.” Jack the Ripper, she briefly recalled of the Seer’s lessons. A real, bonafide serial killer. If she had the energy, she would have spit in his face.

Jack bent down and plucked Evelyne from the rubble with one hand, lifting her like a weightless ragdoll and holding her in his arms. Though dazed, sore, and confused, she had sense enough to struggle in his hold. She squirmed and kicked all the way to the “chair” he would be placing her on, until she suddenly remembered the bag slung across her torso. As a last-ditch effort, Evelyne swung the half-filled thing into Jack’s face, splattering him with the gore he claimed to love so much. He yowled and dropped her.

The fall knocked the wind out of her, but Evelyne scrambled to her feet and ran as fast as she could.

[screebyy]

hi this is a crowlyon dump

I'm just sharing my whole comic outline for this whole crowlyon AU I've created bc I really like it but we're just kinda moving past this part of the story in canon w/ TFS coming out so. Woe, hurt/comfort be upon ye.

I'm planning on finishing the first "arc" of the comic but I actually wrote stuff starting from the starcrossed radio message in december all the way through Crow going into the portal. Incomprehensibly, there are a whole 27 chapters that I have written out beyond the first arc and I still have plans for more! The AO3 fic starts w/ the most recently posted comic (The Summit), since it's a 3 part scene and I've only finished part 1 of the comic.

Hopefully the format is fairly easy to understand! my comic planning is kinda chaotic in that "it makes sense to me" kind of way but I tried to clean it up a bit. Also, exactly one (1) actual fic is present (chapter 5: stakeout) and I really like it, if that's more your vibe. Also also I uploaded most of this from my phone so uhhhh sorry for any copy/paste errors please lmk if you see any clownery.

There's just no way I'll ever be able to draw all of this out but I may still adapt some of it into comics or more fleshed out fic stuff? Idk. I think my perfect world would be to write it all out as a polished fic and have mini-comics of key scenes to go along w/ it but. The wheel of time, ceaselessly turning.

[comfortlesshurt]

2024 Skyler Wrapped

Little 2024 update because my ass can never get enough statistics! (I enjoy the writing, but I fear my true love is math.)

Anyway, skip this post if it will bother you reading about a year of someone else's achievements! I will totally understand. Literally jerkin' myself off under the cut on this post, my dudes.

This year's new fics (in order of date first posted):

Ratings and TWs can be found at the links. Please check the TWs before reading!

09-Jun-2024: 5 Times Lance Doesn't Matter +1 Time He Finally Does (my first fic after an 18-month break!)

01-Jul-2024: Smiling 'cause you're used to it (a house that's always haunted) (first fic where I truly let myself go wild & write for my own dick & no one else)

03-Jul-2024: Chemicals, chemicals in my brain (where'd you go, where'd you go anyway?) (first time writing the fluffy part & enjoying it)

01-Aug-2024: Nowhere to call home (so I'll pack and run away) (first time completing a writing challenge on time)

10-Sep-2024: What are you wondering? (What do you know?) (I hate this one actually, but I wrote it this year so we'll just give it..... shortest fic I've written in AWHILE)

15-Sep-2024: On it, yes, indeed (on it, watch me bleed) (ugh opposite problem... I loved this one! but there's nothing really standout about it, I guess. just accept that I love it even if it doesn't have a Special Thing)

14-Oct-2024: 5 Times Keith Relies on the Blade +1 Time... (first time creating something to celebrate a fictional character's birthday. also first OCs with more than one line of dialogue, I think)

07-Dec-2024: With talk of love (as I make-pretend) (first work for a gift exchange! whole new scary experience for me!)

22-Dec-2024: Maybe this thing works out (if I'm lying too) (longest thing I have EVER written and shared. the inspiration for this thing is endless, I fear)

Stats I thought were interesting:

I wasn't actually back in fandom until June 3rd, 2024, so all the AO3 stats are based on the difference between my snapshot of that date and my snapshot on December 31st, 2024. Not a huge difference; it's just chopping out all the January through June interaction with my Spider-Man stuff that was already up since the last time I took a stats snapshot before that was 2021.

Published in 2024: 92k words, all VLD!

Written in 2024 but not yet published: 188k words, also all VLD

General new stats in 2024: 128 new work subs (we're so back), 20k new hits, 1.2k new kudos, 94 new comment threads (and i happy screamed at every single one), & 339 new bookmarks (and i crept through every single one with comments or tags attached... like a creep...)

New finished works: 7

New unfinished works: 2

Top artist for title lyrics this year: Those Who Dream at 16 unique titles (1 work title & 15 chapter titles)

Word count range for 2024 published fics: 527 (complete snippet) to 26k (WIP)

Most common additional tags: Keith-centric, POV Keith, Hurt/Comfort (these are surely surprising to you....)

Number of times I used the word 'just' in published & unpublished fics this year: 993 (0.355% of all words I wrote were this word.......)

Other milestones: first time writing someone who was Not My Blorbo and having fun with it, first time writing without it being an escape from something terrible, first shipfic, first time participating in a fandom event where there would be Consequences if I'd backed out, first explicit content posted on my main account, closest I've ever gotten to finishing NaNo* with one single project, first time c*mm*ssioning art for my fics, first time learning you have to censor the word c*mm*ssion to avoid getting scam bots in your tumblr DMs (just a huge milestone year actually)

New word count for this year technically doesn't beat my previous record of 315k in 2021, but 1) I was only employed full-time for 5 months of 2021 so I had way more free time then and 2) I didn't write a single word in 2024 before June 3rd, so 280k in 7 months of 2024 feels like a lot more than 315k in 12 months of 2021.

Also since literally no one IRL cares, some non-writing achievements I'm also proud of for 2024! Going in rough order from earliest in 2024 to latest:

Quit the most abusive job I've ever experienced

And immediately got my first job in my intended career field

Finally coded an AO3 stats tracker after 6 years of having it in the back of my mind

Grew my first ever eggplant (it was very small....)

Paid off my car

First semi-solo business proposal presented with a base price totaling more than all of the bids combined that I supported over 2 years at my last job

Made new friends I love <3

Acquired an unquenchable thirst for vld merch....

Went to my first con

And finally as of today, I'm under 89% of my original mortgage balance & on track to own this thing in half the original loan term! (praying this series of words doesn't wake up the sugar daddy bot again, he LOVES when I discuss my mortgage)

Also, some shoutouts for the year! In order of when we first met:

@zelandiangelo for being one of the few OGs I know still around and always being so nice to talk to and supportive. ;_; In case anyone's forgotten, they're the one who convinced me to write and post my first ever hurt/comfort fic and sucked me right back into fandom after I'd been clean for like... six years at that point.

For the record, there are other OGs and I'm glad to see them around! We're just not as close (but you can change that in 2025 ;) )

@hurtwithabitofcomfort for also being crazy supportive through all the fandoms I've been through. I didn't get to shout 'em out last year since I wasn't active on Tumblr then, but they're the one who kicked off me getting back into writing in 2023. I know I didn't SHARE anything from 2023, but they made me see how much I loved writing again around that time when the rest of my life kinda sucked and I was giving up on everything.

@perpetuallylatetothefandomparty for their incredibly nice comments! Deadass, I probably would've just posted my first one or two fics of this year and disappeared for another year or two if they hadn't been such a constant presence this summer, hyping up all the gen fics I was working on then.

@voltrohgodwhat for being so easy to talk to and being the kind of friend where either of us can like... disappear for a month and still be totally cool with each other. Also for sharing WIPs that still haunt me on a weekly basis because they're so unique and good ;_;

@existwound for being too intimidatingly cool for awhile but STILL hyping me up. If you've liked anything I've posted in the past three months or so, you've probably got Astra to blame for brainstorming it with me, letting me ramble about it, giving me fresh ideas when I'm stuck on something, or hyping it up.

@langst for always yapping to me about Klance and ALSO hyping up my WIPs and letting me ramble about ideas. Also special shoutout to El because she got me back into writing sprints and that is the source of a LOT of this recent word count. There is something so special about getting to stomp people's asses as you write.......

I'm not gonna harass all the writers I like who aren't like... people I talk to regularly, but even though this has been a VERY light reading year for me, there's a whole little list of VLD writers who I read over and over and like... instantly got motivation to write on my own fics afterward. If you've been in any of my 2024 fic rec lists, it's you... you are my motivation....

(Also, I am OLD and don't have my incredible teenage memory anymore, so if you see me add someone to the shoutouts later, no you didn't and I'm SORRY for not remembering in the first place.)

And final thing! Goals for 2025!

500k written in 2025: Just a little above my daily average in 2024 when you account for the 5 months I wasn't writing this year. The goal is to keep up the pace I've had since June 2024, but extend it through the full 12 months of 2025. Might be a bit of a reach but hey, I'll be happy to get anywhere near 500k in a year, so it works!

Start posting In Love and Death by the end of 2025: I'm running SO behind on where I thought I'd be with this project when I started, but there is no excuse for this to not be close enough to finished to start posting by the end of next year. Mark my words.......

Continue posting work I love: I fell out of habitually writing the last time because I was writing based on what I thought other people wanted to read and holy shit, it is so much easier to write what I want to read. So I'm gonna keep doing that in 2025. In 2024 we moved between gen whump, semi-shippy whump, and shippy non-whump, and I enjoyed them all because that was what I felt like writing at the time. I'll slide between them all as I feel like it again in 2025.

Prioritize my mental health online: I've mostly gotten through it fine, but every burst of bad mental health that affected my writing this year was a direct result of continuing to follow people who are just plain assholes and ruining my mood for no good reason when I'm trying to enjoy scrolling my dash. In 2025, I'll be reminding myself more often that no one is talented enough to make up for being a dick, and I will be more brutal with the unfollow and block buttons for anyone who's making my fandom experience worse.

[lennsart]

Art summary

I've been wanting to do an art summary for several years now, but always realized I didn't drew enough every month to do one... Until this year ! 2024 really was under the sign of Linked Universe, but I do not complain, it inspired me a lot :D

January

So I legally had to include The Beans™

But really, my big drawing from january is this one :

February

...This is the only thing I have drawn in February. My greatest masterpiece, of course

March

April

I'm still very proud of this one <3

May

Didn't do much in may, mostly wips that I never finished :

June

July

Ah, Yes. Still one of the greatest thing I've ever drawn !

August

A little nostalgia for this month since these two are my Kingdom Hearts OCs that I hadn't drawn in a while...

But do not fret, I do have some Linked Universe for this month as well :

September

Hero Fable, I hope to write more of your story in 2025...

October

October had visibly been a month of artblock, but I was saved by the Halloween treats !

November

Despite not having posted much in november, I did draw something that might be the drawing I'm the most proud of this year...

:)

I started the comic by the end to be sure to have something to show when the deadline came !

December

I was still working on it for this month, so have some panels that I'm pretty sure I drew in December :

And there we go ! I'm so happy I managed to have at least one drawing for every month (even with February being a, uh. Minimalistic month !)

And you know why I managed to do more than the other years ?

Because of everyone's engagement and encouragements.

I've always drawn and written my silly little things in my corner up until then, and it's good to do things for yourself and not for validation.

But damn, do the validation help to stay motivated !

I've done so many new things this year, and made so many new friends... I'm just very grateful ! I put myself out there, and was rewarded for it.

I remember so many days that have been made (and often saved !) by kind comments. It's just been really nice.

I'm very glad I put myself out there, and I'm really glad you all answered.

And to making even more in 2025 !