#feel free to ask me things about the various fics!! I've got these and a few jnd ones locked and loaded

[captain-castaway]

WAH

BY WHICH I MEAN I got tagged in one of those Last Line Games like two weeks ago by @abysskeeper and uh never noticed bc I never check my mentions oops

anyways it’s supposed to be the last line of your WIP but I’m feeling vain today so you’re getting like a few last lines from a few different WIPs that probably won’t see the light of day for several years

so uh here’s one from a KH:COM rewrite/au bc I was having Namine Feelings last night

[It’s just information, Namine thinks, brushing away the guilt. It’s just data. It’s just a story. A story she’s telling with a friend, that’s all. A story where they are friends; a story where she’s the only friend that matters. Her hand stills, and the guilt in her stomach twists into something like longing. Wistfulness. Nostalgia for something that hadn’t actually happened.

It could have happened, she thinks. It will have happened, she thinks further. She looks up towards the locked door of her room, and the tiny hope she’d clung to so carefully sours instantly

It has to have happened, she thinks with finality, and she picks up her pencils once more.]

here’s a potential line from an After sequel in which Speedrun!Link tries his hardest to explain to Zelda how he got there so fast

[There are no common signs for how Link managed to make it to the castle so quickly. He starts somewhere in common, then jumps to Hylian by way of Zora and Goron in some weird mish-mash, and really Zelda would have been more impressed with how many different languages he had muscle memory of had he not been describing something utterly ludicrous.]

aaaaaaand finally a piece from a KH:BBS rewrite/au because I have just so many thoughts about why the fuck Pete got banished + reminiscing on Mickey’s Magical Quest for the SNES

[”Nows see here, your Majesty. Isn’t this a touch too far?”

“You kidnapped me, Pete,” Minnie said coldly.

“All part of a sting operation against the Beagle Boys.”

“You stole my dog,” Mickey protested in utter indignation.

“Heresay.”

“Pete you can’t just say that, I was literally there, I saw you-” With every word Mickey’s voice jumped in octave.

Pete, for his part, gave the mouse a long, annoyed look. “I liked you better when you didn’t speak.”

“Guards!” Minni snapped, “Get him out of my sight.”]

anyways don’t expect the KH ones to come out any time soon as they’re part of a uh Self Indulgent Whole Series Rewrite Magnum Opus because I’m God Apparently and have decided to replay all the games and take extensive notes on everything because I’m a Scholar (I do have a handful of scene sketches for almost all of the games if you ever want a peek under the hood though lol)

the BOTW one is likely quicker, assuming I don’t write something for TOTK first oops

and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @unironicallycringe and the rest of the Fanfiction Book Club I have forgotten your various handles but you’re all invited to play!

[enjolrasoftheday]

Hello!! Do you know any good Enjolras/Grantaire fics ? Asking for scientific purposes only, naturally

Well, if it's in the name of science...

I do have some recommendation lists in my fic rec tag, and I absolutely still stand by those. But! Here are some more recent fics, in no particular order, that I've enjoyed (and may or may not have speed-read in the last week since receiving this ask, I swear I wasn't ignoring you, I was just conducting important research lol). I’m not going to include the tags/warnings for each fic, so remember to take a look at those on ao3!

Also if anyone else has any recs, feel free to add them in the comment or reblogs!

Happy reading!!

Seek and Destroy by pumpkinspiceprouvaire (27,102 words)

Because Grantaire doesn’t feel that way about him. Grantaire is his friend, and Enjolras will love him from a distance, and that’s the way it’s always been, the way it’s always going to be. Enjolras’ blood freezes in his veins. It’s so obvious. This isn’t Grantaire.

restoring the balance by televisionbodies (14,427 words)

“How long are you stuck here?” He thinks for a moment. “The next train is in about five hours time. And then I’ve got work again, tomorrow.” “No wonder you wanted a coffee,” the bartender murmurs. “Well, then. You’ve got plenty of time to let me show you around.” — It’s 12:36am on a Wednesday and Enjolras, consumed with his work, has missed the last train home.

Les beaux cheveux que voilà by GayAvocado (9,184 words)

One should always have a hair tie around their wrist. If not for their own hair, for others’, or for the multitude of mundane situations that require a hair tie. So of course Grantaire has a hair tie around his wrist tonight. A pink one that might have belonged to Jehan or Azelma or both at some point. The neon colour will look lovely in the middle of Enjolras' golden curls. Or: For some reason, Grantaire finds himself braiding Enjolras’ hair way more often than he thought he ever would. Things change between them.

And Pages To Go by femmebingley (5,441 words)

Grantaire loses his sketchbook. /// “You’ve had it this whole time?” Grantaire couldn’t even find enough indignation to cover his growing terror. “Did you open it?” Enjolras sighed, and that was it. Grantaire’s life was over.

Lost in All of Our Vices by cx_shhhh (11,220 words)

“You will be banished for an indeterminate amount of time and stripped of your godly abilities,” Javert announces, voice booming in the echoing hall, not unlike the thunder he represents. “Until you learn that order is necessary for the gods to stay in power, that the respect of mortals is valuable to us, and until you learn to love them wholeheartedly, you will live like one.” Basically, Enjolras is banished from the heavens, and he learns that a god can, indeed, fall in love.

The Worst First Date by kjack89 (3,443 words)

Enjolras sat down at his desk, fresh mug of coffee in front of him, and took a moment to adjust the ring light behind his cellphone before taking a deep breath and pushing record. “So, um, I hope no one minds but we are taking a break today from our usually scheduled ranting at various governmental institutions because one of my best friends wants me to do a TikTok that’s part of this viral trend.” Or, the one where Enjolras makes a TikTok about his first date with Grantaire.

Green Rushes by loverism (6,043 words)

The mermaid, Enjolras, bites his lip, glaring at Grantaire like he's trying to determine whether he's serious. Grantaire supposes he was probably raised on stories of how evil the cave-witches are, how deceitful; how they mock everything they speak of; how they're driven only by profit; and above all, how striking a bargain with one of them is never, ever worth it. Grantaire can't exactly call those stories inaccurate. or: grantaire is a sea witch chilling in a cave, mixing potions and trying to mind his own business. enjolras has other ideas.

Love is Blind by kjack89 (32,982 words)

Enjolras sat down in front of the camera, and the producer just off-screen gave him a reassuring smile. “Nothing to it,” the producer promised. “Just introduce yourself and tell everyone why you’re here.” Enjolras jerked a nod before looking into the camera. “My name is Enjolras,” he said. “I’m 31 years old, and I’m here because this is the first season that this show has been open to queer contestants.” The producer cleared his throat. “So do you believe Love is Blind?” he prompted. Enjolras gave the camera a smile. “Well,” he said. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”

Love Bites by ShameDumpster (9,557 words)

"What—" Enjolras says, breath hitching at the sight, “What are you doing?” Grantaire immediately freezes, and then pulls back, slightly. Even still, it’s closer than they’ve ever actually been, barely a foot between their faces. "I…need to bite you?" he says, managing to sound both wry and nervous at the same time, "How exactly did you think this worked?" In which Grantaire has recently been turned into a vampire, and Enjolras offers to help him. For the Same-Prompt Fic Challenge 2022

Tell Me Why (Ain’t Nothin but a Heartache by cs_shhhh (3,281 words)

It starts slowly, of course. Grantaire already pays too much attention to Enjolras, so it’s easy to spot the white petals, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Enjolras seems to grow angrier and angrier when the coughing starts interrupting his speeches, so much that Combeferre has to take over after pushing a glass of water towards him, and he casts the flowers to the ground, glaring at them.

anything you want, boy (i can make it happen) by thewalrus_said (3,545 words)

As he’d been falling asleep, he’d expected to feel devastated, or heartbroken, or something negative after a clearly one-off night with the object of his long-held desires, but instead he just feels...satisfied, almost content. Enjolras clearly finds him at least physically desirable, and he’s apparently in Enjolras’ head at least a little bit, and that turns out to be enough for him. He’s finally had sex with Enjolras, and while it hadn’t been what he’d secretly hoped for, it had still been good, and so the memory doesn’t drag him down like he’d feared it might. So when he answers a knock on his door a week later to find a breathless Enjolras, who immediately pushes his way into Grantaire’s apartment and says, “I think we should have sex again,” he’s more than a little taken aback.

The Arms of the Ocean, so Sweet and so Cold by ShameDumpster (11,867 words)

Sirens attack the crew of the dreaded pirate ship, the Musain. They send out Enjolras to deal with it, as in the past, he’s proven himself to be unaffected by their song. Unfortunately for him, as he’s told Grantaire many times, things can (and do) change. And this change may leave his life, and heart, in the balance.

It Only Takes a Meow-ment by cx_shhhh (7,158 words)

“The prince is finally putting out a challenge for his hand. He has a very loyal cat, you see. Whichever suitor, man or woman, can obtain the ring attached to the bow around its neck will be given the time of day.” Or Enjolras is oblivious, and it impacts everyone around him in the best way possible.

neon loneliness by dyhtps (4,345 words)

He lets his gaze fall around the kitchen. A coffee mug left out on the side, a tea-towel hung over the oven handle, even one of those awful kiss the cook aprons that he figures must belong to Enjolras’ boyfriend. Grantaire blames the concussion for the sudden, awful sinking feeling in his stomach. He decided he hates the mystery boyfriend, maybe he's been an arse to future Grantaire before and it's just his subconscious warning him to get away from the guy as quick as he can. or Grantaire loses his memory, is jealous of Enjolras' mystery boyfriend and finally realises that's actually him.

visiting hours by televisionbodies (5,731 words)

”I guess I’m just surprised you’re still in here at all.” “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Enjolras says smoothly, knowing exactly what Grantaire means. “Two months?” One side of Grantaire’s mouth is turning upwards. “I didn’t think you were capable of sitting still that long.” — 5 times grantaire visits enjolras in prison, and 1 time he doesn’t have to.

[hobie-enthusiast]

I really love how you write!! I was wondering if you could so smth with hobie x autistic + sunshine!reader? I'm autistic, and i've constantly been belittled for it so it'd mean a lot to see my biggest cc with an autistic reader!! If you're worried about how to approach it maybe you could do smth like reader using noise canceling headphones? or like comforting when reader had an autistic meltdown?? Ofc these are just ideas, whatever you wna do!! Also don't fret if you don't want to do this request, just wanted to ask !!! ^w^

Oh and gender neutral with they/them pronouns please!! 🫶

- 🎀 anonymous

(Emoji signoffs are so cute!! hoping you don't mind me adding one !!!)

QUIET AND EASE !

— hobie brown x energetic!autistic!gn!reader

— fluff and comfort, autistic meltdown, noise canceling headphones, petnames (sweetheart, love), hobie’s worried and nervous, sensory overload, breakdowns due to loud noises, almost panic attacks

— time with your friends was always nice, but sometimes it got to be too much, and hobie is always there to help

— ill do u one better anon how about incorporating both 🫶 also ofc you can have an emoji! thank u for ur support!

— official disclaimer: the following fic and reader experience is based on my experience and also other aspects i have read up on. every autistic person is different, and they won’t all have this exact reaction when it comes to a meltdown. so pls keep that in mind when reading :) if anything seems wrong please feel free to tell me!

Everything was so so loud.

The two of you agreed two have friends over, a small hangout. It had been a while since everyone had hung out, so Hobie suggested hosting them. You agreed, wanting to see everyone again after a while.

You welcomed everyone excitedly, wanting to show off your place. “Hey guys! Come on in, let me give you a tour!”

You dragged them all around the apartment, pointing out various things that maybe they didn’t notice. Your favourites; some hanging pictures, pieces, and collectables.

The other owner of the place, Hobie, couldn’t help but smile a bit at your excited nature. That’s just how you were, naturally excited about your interests. He encouraged that, loving the way you seem to know so much about these types of things.

After a tour and explanations you so graciously provided, you ushered everyone to grab some dinner or snacks. You had some entertainment planned out, so you and Hobie let everyone decide what they wanted to do. It was a nice time, and you enjoyed your friend’s company.

But soon, they just got too rowdy for your liking. It was about a couple hours into get-together and Miles and Pavitr decided it would be a great idea to play some board and card games. Of course, the competitive nature led to some yelling between the teens.

You tapped out of the game a while ago, feeling an anxious nerve tapping at the back of your head. You hoped it was nothing. That you could continue enjoying your friend’s company.

Definitely not the case.

“Oh come on! I had it that round!” Miles groaned loudly, nudging Gwen. “I would have won!”

“But you didn’t! I remain the victor!” Pavitr declares loudly, collecting all the cards.

Hobie laughs lowly, finding amusement in the banter among the younger ones. It was nice hearing everyone just able to relax and not worry about their duties. Well, there was one person he hadn’t heard from in a minute.

The older turned to you, noticing the way you seemed to just be.. staring out. Your hands were messing with one another, and your leg was bouncing crazily. Your eyes were glassy, almost as if..

Oh. Oh no.

Subtly, Hobie scoots closer to you, minding himself to not touch you. “Doin’ okay, love?”

The words go into your head, you hear them. But it’s difficult to process. Were you okay? Was this okay? No, it wasn’t, but can you even say that? Should you tell him? Will you tell him? So many overwhelming questions.

“I-”

“Oh come on! You have to be cheating!”

A particularly loud yell from Miles causes you to flinch, head dropping to your knees. No, you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Tears sprang to your eyes quickly as your body rocks, hands harshly pushing against your ears.

This is when Hobie knew he had to spring into action. “Guys, c’mon, ‘s time t’ get goin’.”

Everyone looks up at Hobie, confused, with Gwen being first to speak up. “What? Hobie, we just got here?”

“‘m sorry, but you can come back ‘nother time. Please.” He requests, ushering everyone to stand up.

As Hobie tries to get everyone out and away, you’re off in your own world. Your head was spinning, all your sense coming at you at full force. Everything was crashing down on you, and you couldn’t stop it.

Once he managed to get everyone out, his feet were moving him to your shared room. He needed the essentials; your blanket, your headphones, and your phone. He’d get more once you asked, certainly. Rushing back to you, he kneels down, hands glued to his thighs.

“Hey swee’heart..” He says in a really quiet whisper, not wanting to upset you further. “‘m gonna put these on ya, okay? Jus’ real quick, then ‘m done.. I’ll be right over here for ya.”

He knew these types of things could be harmful, you told him that before. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally hurt him. But letting you know what he’s doing helped a small part of your brain, one trying to gain regulation.

Carefully, Hobie moves to put your headphones on your head, the noise from the outside world coming to a halt. He moves back after, hands in your view as he backs up. That’s how he shows that he’s away, letting you have your space.

Next, he mimics your position, drawing his knees to his chest. Hobie’s nervous, he couldn’t deny, but all he could do was sit and wait. You needed your space, and he would be here to help you with the aftermath.

And then he just.. waits.

Once the sound is blocked out, that’s one less worry on your mind. You focus next on the tears streaming down your face. Everything felt sore, your mind was hurting. That made you want to cry.

You bit your lip as you shake your hands, trying to get some sort of stability. You focus on the movement of your hand, watching the rings Hobie let you steal jangle together. No doubt they make a nice sound, Hobie probably hears it.

Your brain waves start to slow down, you can tell. Without the overwhelming sense, you start to feel at ease. Some thoughts are able to run through.

‘Breathe. Think. Safe.’

You try your hardest to repeat these words in your head, continuously stimming as the tears finally stop. Without the horrible feeling of crying, it’s somewhat easier to understand what’s happening. The loud sounds were gone. You were okay.

By the time you managed to gain more of yourself, your head was hurting badly. Glancing up, you notice the way Hobie was looking at you. He had a worried expression. He didn’t wear it often, but he was now. He was nervous for you.

He gives a small wave, gaining a small laugh from you as you wave back. Then, he holds out his hand, giving you the option to take it. He wants nothing more than to hold and comfort you, he wants to help make you feel secure.

You cautiously take his hand, allowing him to wrap his arms around you. This instantly made you melt in his embrace. Exhaustion was catching up with you.

But things could be okay now. You were alone with Hobie, someone you trusted immensely.

Hobie was relieved when you allowed yourself to be embraced by him. He felt better knowing he could give you this sense of comfort. It was better than being able to do nothing.

Gently, he kisses your forehead when he feels your body slumping. “Mhm.. rest, swee’heart.. ‘m here..”

He knew his words were blocked by your headphones, but he still whispered them anyways. Almost like assuring himself. Everything was okay. You were okay.

Hobie decided that tonight was a good night for a sleep on the floor. He grabs your blanket, putting it over both of your bodies while lying back. He lets you adjust your body so you can sleep comfortably with the headphones on, which happens to be on his side with hands intertwined.

He was comfortable. You were comfortable. And he could easily fall asleep knowing that you would wake up and hopefully feel as good as you did earlier that day.

[apollo-likes-writing]

June of Doom Day One - "Help Me."

Characters: Bruce Wayne/Batman, Clark Kent/Superman, Alfred Pennyworth, Ra's Al-Ghul (mentioned), Tim Drake/Red Robin, Damian Wayne/Robin, Stephanie Brown/Spoiler, Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Summary: Bruce has always been stubborn, much to the dismay of those around him. It's only when he has no other option that he actually decides to ask for assistance.

Word count: 1603

Tags: Light angst, light gore, injuries, depictions/recountance of injuries and violence, medicine/medical terminology.

Author's Note: In comparison to other angst fics I've written, this one is incredibly tame. Call it the calm before the storm for this challenge lol. Enjoy! As always, feel free to like, comment, and reblog. It helps me out a bunch.

@juneofdoom

Masterlist | Day Two

The Dark Knight is revered across the world as being untouchable. Unbeatable. The stuff of legend that you tell your kids about so they will behave. “You better be good, or the Batman will come and get you in the night!” It works a treat. There are some people in the world who don’t even think He exists. They believe it’s clever CGI or paid trauma actors or a talented cosplayer (as to what they’re cosplaying is up for debate, for obvious reasons). Like on of those fake movies where people on social media work together in their thousands to gaslight people into thinking they exist when they don’t. It’s not true, of course. Batman is as human as any other person on Earth (except for the large variety of aliens that also call Earth home, but that’s another thing to ignore). He is human. He has skin and lungs and teeth and a tongue; and with such things comes vulnerability. The Dark Knight is not untouchable, and he certainly isn’t unbeatable. 

Especially considering the state he is currently in. 

It is well-known throughout the hero community that Ra’s Al-Ghul is not a man to be messed with. Whenever his name pops up on mission briefs it is always given to the more capable heroes in the Watchtower. Usually the Big Three: Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, and today was no different. When the small-time hero of somewhere unimportant came shuffling over to his office to timidly poke his head through the door, Batman was surprisingly quite understanding. 

“That must have been a formatting error. I’ll handle it, don’t worry. Ra’s Al-Ghul isn’t a villain for the regular hero. Thank you for bringing this to me, Jerry.” 

How on earth he knew the man’s name was between him and the gods. He scampered off and out of Batman’s office before he got the chance to ask, his own fear getting the best of him. How heroic. 

Now, while Bruce is clutching his side and using his cape as an impromptu bandage across his torso, he wishes that Clark and Diana were not on their respective breaks. 

“The kids are on school break. I’m going to take them to visit Ma and Pa for the weekend. Shout if you need me, Bruce.” 

“My sisters in Themyscira have requested my presence for a ceremony of some kind. It is apparently important, so I will be back in about a week.” 

He can’t blame them, of course. Superhero work is tough, and everyone is in need of a break now and again. Jon and Kon are important to Clark, as are his own children to Bruce, so he understands. And the surprise birthday party for Diana has been in the works for months. Being the only naturally born Themysciran, it is a ceremony worth celebrating for the Amazons, so Bruce can’t fault them either. He just wishes their departures could have been spaced out a little more so he wouldn’t have to deal with Ra’s alone. 

Now, in the middle of god-knows-where in some North African country, he is alone. Crippled by some sort of Lazarus Pit magic that was blasted across his thigh and various sword-related wounds dotted around his torso and legs. He’s been in worse situations, but he’s also certainly been in better as well. With Alfred piloting the Batwing from the safety of the Batcave, he’s got about four hours until it arrives, and he can be brought back to his own domain. Back to safety. He hesitates at the idea of calling for help from Clark. The man has his own priorities, and it’s been an incessantly long time since he’s had time alone with his family without the stress of hero work. 

However, some priorities overrule others. 

“Clark, help me,” he whispers, voice cracking and hoarse after hours of fighting and sustaining injuries. As he treks away from the arena where Ra’s and Bruce fought (some secluded spot in the middle of a dessert - Bruce would personally guess Ethiopia due to the landmarks surrounding him, but he has been wrong before and wouldn’t be surprised if he was at this moment as well) and with the fact that Ra’s has been defeated in mind and handed into the local authority, he pushes forward. Every step through sand dunes feels as if he’s walking through treacle, and he can’t help but struggle with his own body as he reaches the crest of a particularly large mountain of sand. In the distance, the sparkling lights of a large city twinkle at him with the promise of assistance, but he highly doubts he’ll get there before he collapses to dehydration or his injuries. He’s already exhausted the little water he had in his utility belt and the bandages in it have already been used to patch up wounds of the highest severity. The strange green magic that Ra’s used on him made the material of his trousers stick to his left leg painfully, so he had to cut the cotton-Kevlar material off.  

So, there he is: trudging in the middle of some desert in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night - dehydrated, injured, and miserable with his incoming support not available for another several hours and half of his costume in disrepair. He can’t help feeling a little irritable towards his comrades for this, even if he is completely aware that it isn’t their fault. He was the one who deemed it too dangerous for his children to come with him to combat the Demon’s Head and made the incredibly intelligent decision to go alone. Even Alfred had urged him to go with one of his more mature children, but his fear of losing them after what happened to Jason put the rational part of his brain on autopilot in favour of the worried parent in him to disagree with every alternative. He can just hope that either his family or Clark finds him before it’s too late. 

That’s the last thought he has before he collapses, face first, into the sand. 

— 

He’s in and out of consciousness for a long time. When he’s got half a mind to take in his surroundings, Bruce notices that he is travelling. Rapidly. When he blinks, he’s in a vehicle, then lying down on something, then surrounded by darkness. He hears voices too, but they’re often mixed and warped together until he can’t discern whose is whose. Eventually, the soft timbre of Alfred reaches him, followed by the worried voice of his eldest son. It’s then when he realises he’s back in the Batcave and safe, so he closes his eyes again and stays like that for a while; not particularly in the mood for waking up. 

When he properly regains consciousness, he’s met with a pounding headache and a sharp ache overwhelming his legs and chest. Bruce opens his eyes and is immediately blinded by the bright LED of a medical light glaring down on him. He squints into it and brings his arm up to cover his eyes with a groan, and the room, which he didn’t realise was occupied by others, suddenly went silent.  

“Bruce? You’re awake!” That was the voice of his third son. 

“It was about time, Father. How was Grandfather?” That was his youngest. 

“Stop pestering him! Let him get his bearings before you overwhelm him with questions.” His eldest daughter. 

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t overwhelm me with questions at all. At least, not yet,” Bruce grumbles, attempting to sit up without triggering a massive headache and failing miserably. He slumps back on the hospital cot, closing his eyes. He feels a cool and damp fabric being placed on his forehead, realising that Alfred is busy doing his medical ministrations as he always does. 

“You gave us quite the scare, Master Bruce. I hope this acts as a lesson to not fight the League of Assassins without correct backup,” the butler states. Bruce sighs, the act causing pain to shoot through his ribcage. Ah, so he broke them.  

“I won, didn’t I?” he states, attempting humour. The joke falls flat in the now silent room and the man represses the urge to sigh a second time. 

“We all know that’s not the point here, Bruce.” His eldest son, Dick, steps forward and stands next to the cot where his father lies. “You gave Clark quite the scare.” 

That’s what gets Bruce to open his eyes. 

“He’s here?” 

“He’s upstairs in the Manor. He wanted to give you space.” 

He can’t suppress the sigh this time and it turns into a wince. 

“Damn it. Can you bring him down here? I want to apologise for keeping him from his family.” 

“Visiting hours are closed for a few hours,” Alfred states bluntly and shoots a poignant glare behind him at the several others in the room. They all look away, shuffling around awkwardly. “Unfortunately, your stubbornness is apparently hereditary.” He turns to face them all. “Children, Master Bruce is awake. You can come back later when he’s in a better state of mind and body.” As if on cue, Bruce groans in pain after a failed attempt to move his legs into a more comfortable position. 

“Right- yeah. Sorry, Alf. We’ll go.” Dick begins to turn away but stops himself halfway to the door. Once the others have left, he gives a meaningful look to his father.  

“Stop thinking you have to do everything alone, Bruce. You have friends. Act like it.” 

With that, he leaves, leaving the Dark Knight in the care of his butler and his own thoughts.

--

Will be posted on Ao3 later on :)

[facingthenorthwind]

So while reading Halo Effect, I naturally became obsessed with the one (1) Jewish character who turns up twice, one as a brief mention and one to write a single letter. Because I am extremely normal, I am writing a fic about him. Technically I've only written the first half (the second half is Peter and Thomas meeting up with him), but it's self-contained. It's been written for literal years, so I figure I should at least post it on tumblr. I hope you enjoy it, @alex51324!! (Also I haven't Yiddishised the Hebrew yet because I only know the standard pronunciation but I'm going to get someone to do it before I post it on AO3.) Hopefully this is comprehensible to non-Jews?? Please let me know if not.

Is it breaking a mitzvah if I say mourner's kaddish for someone who might not be mourned otherwise without a minyan? At most, there's a Green who has a J on his identity disc on one of the wards, but he's currently on so much morphine I don't think he'd remember the words, Issac wrote to his father once he finally got back to his unit. Honestly, he didn't much care what his father wrote back — if God didn't like him saying kaddish for Fitz, God could come down here and tell him what alternative he had. He asked his father to send a candle so he could light it for Fitz, but crossed it out and asked him for ten candles. Fitz may have been the first, but he sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

The news of Fitz’s death had preceded Issac’s return, but nobody had touched Fitz’s belongings yet. Cruelly, the most essential things, the things that meant most to him, had gone down with him, but Rouse eventually laid out everything that was in Fitz’s rucksack so they could decide what they should send back to his family — well, his brother. Fitz had said he didn’t have any other family left. 

They decided they’d split his cigarettes between them — Scogs tried to crack a joke about how Fitz had always been so free with his cigarettes it was almost like he wasn’t gone, but he trailed off, and no one laughed. His large collection of letters went in his rucksack, of course (he seemed to get them constantly, all from different people; sometimes he had even acted as some kind of go-between, passing on information from one letter-writer to another, as if they couldn’t just write to each other themselves). The scarf he’d worn every day from Christmas until mid-April, when even he couldn’t deny it was too hot, went in as well — Issac had always thought privately that it was fairly ugly, but then again, if he tried to knit a scarf it would probably turn out much the same. 

Dawson got Fitz’s copy of Prester John out of his own pack and removed his bookmark before handing it over to Rouse. “He’s made some little notes in it,” he said. “Nothing all that interesting yet as I can see, but it doesn’t feel right to keep it.”

Rouse packed it and Scogs didn’t mention that he had been next in line to read it. One of them could write home to get another copy, probably. Issac was sure he could — he had already received several yellowbacks which he’d left in the break room once everyone had read them so they could find a new home. Fitz’s sewing kit, playing cards and the various other things he’d been sent went on top and by the time they were done there was an all-too-noticeable hole where Fitz had once slept. 

It was only then that Issac noticed Rouse had gained corporal’s stripes. It made sense — Fitz needed replacing and Rouse was an obvious choice, being the smartest of the lot of them. He congratulated him, but Rouse wasn’t offended that he didn’t quite hit the right tone and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Rouse’s didn’t, either.

When he arrived at the wards for his next shift, Captain Russell clapped him on the shoulder and gave him an extra ration of brandy. And then they just had to get on with it.

------

Fitz’s brother never replied to the letter he sent, so Issac kept saying kaddish for him past the thirty days that were traditional. He knew there were lots of reasons he might not have written — maybe it got lost, or he didn’t want to hear from Issac, or any number of perfectly innocent explanations, but as Issac watched men die day after day he couldn’t stop thinking about how if Fitz’s brother was dead, there was no one to remember Fitz as family. 

He said it for eleven months, as he would for a brother — four months longer than he’d known him. About six months in, Rouse wrote to him saying that he’d been stationed with Fitz’s brother at a CCS. He was a corporal, apparently, and Rouse said he reminded him of Fitz — that they said some of the same things, though in temperament they were pretty different. The war dragged on.

He kept a list of people in his units who died as he transferred from place to place, but it quickly became clear that he couldn't light a candle for each of them. The list just kept going, a litany of names followed by the date of their death in the Gregorian and Hebrew calendars. Jerry Scoggins, 30 September 1915/22 Tishrei 5676. Billy Dawson, 2 October 1915/25 Tishrei 5676. Fred Keighery, 4 February 1916/30 Shevat 5676... It felt like keeping track of their yahrzeits was more of a motivation to note the Hebrew date than keeping the holidays, since it wasn’t like he could, not really. Even as he tried to pray every day for whatever service he had free, the words of the festival services just made him homesick, and he didn’t have any of the things you should have: matzah or his mother’s blintzes or a lulav. 

He wrote to Moishe about studying the RAMC periodicals at Shavuot instead of Torah; it felt... oddly fitting. He knew, logically, that this war was man's fault and God didn't have anything to do with it, but that didn't provide any comfort when he was on death watch, sitting beside a man who gasped as he drowned on dry land. If the only control he had in this hell was giving two fingers to God, then he was going to take it. 

His father sent him a machzor so he could pray Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but he got to Unetaneh Tokef and didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed when someone found him crying ten minutes later. Reciting the ways people would die in the coming year — who by water, who by fire, who by sword and who by wild beast — felt absurd when he could list just as many from who was on the wards. Who by phosgene, who by sepsis, who by bullets? And for the machzor to claim that repentance, prayer and righteousness averted the severity of the decree — that sure hadn’t fucking worked for the soldiers getting killed. It hadn’t worked for Fitz or Scoggins or Keighery or— 

By the end of 1917 he could no longer go over the top, having lost his hearing in his left ear from a shell exploding too close. The letters he received detailing how his nephew he’d never met could talk in whole sentences now and how Mr Rabinowitz had fallen and broken his leg felt like missives from a world he would never return to again; how could he, when all he knew was the war?

The Armistice meant the supply of wounded slowed, but he didn’t go home — he was stationed at a general hospital, so there were still plenty of cases coming through. Even when they offered to send him home because he wasn’t regular army and they were well aware that the other corps had mostly got the wartime recruits out… he knew it was cowardly, but he accepted the offer to stay on until the RAMC left France. He couldn’t picture how he was going to fit back into the Leylands, and perhaps if he put it off long enough he’d finally work it out.

He did not.

When he finally got off the train at Leeds, it felt a little like a fairytale — he kept being shocked that he could recognise the buildings as the train came in, and it sounded the same as it had before the war. The back of his throat began to ache, though he wasn’t sure why, but before he could focus on that his mother was calling his name and hugging him. Had she been there the whole time? She gave him a kiss on the cheek and led him to everyone else — there was Shoshie, who grinned at him and then prompted the child hiding behind her legs to greet his Feter Itzik. While the nephew he’d never met hid his face in her skirt, his father embraced him with a decidedly gruff, “Son.”

And at last there was Moishe, his smile twisted by the scarring on his face. He looked like he understood the slight bewilderment that must have shown on his face. “Glad they let you go eventually,” he said, slapping him on the back. He spoke into his right ear, probably noticing that Issac had turned so he could hear the people in front of him more clearly with it. 

“Yeah,” Issac said, not trusting himself to say anything else lest he start crying. 

“See, he’s not scary, Dovid,” Shoshie said, having coaxed his nephew out in front of her. “Say hello.”

“Hello Feter,” he said at last. “Why don’t you have a face like Feter Moishe?”

“Dovid!” Shoshie said.

Moishe shot Issac a grin. For the first time in too long, Issac laughed.

[thefallennightmare]

Hey there!

I just wanted to say I'm amazed at how you handle the anon hate with class and grace. It blows my mind at how hateful people can be, especially when they can hide behind being on anon (I see the irony in me being on anon now too lol)

Sometimes as an elder millennial, I feel too old for this fandom and too old for tumblr lol. But out of all the fandoms I've been a part of during the years across various social media apps, this little community right here has been the nicest and most welcoming. I've been here less than a year and haven't talked much to anyone, but the few interactions I've had have been very polite and respectful and sometimes very funny.

I've seen the hate you and other blogs/writers have posted about and it disgusts me. I haven't gotten involved in any of the discourse because I try to keep my vibes positive and friendly. But now I just wanna say something to you and your fellow writers - please don't stop writing or give in to the hate and negativity. Yes, their words hurt and are discouraging but for every "hater" you have, you have many more people who love and support you and your work, please choose to focus on that. I can't speak for everyone but I choose to read your stories as a way to escape from the real world, so I thank you for sharing your talent and creativity with all of us.

And if any haters are lurking, I politely ask that you please find something better to do with your time. Fic writers and fic readers are literally hurting no one, so direct your vitriol elsewhere. Don't shame others for reading and writing fics, when other people in this fandom and other fandoms have done worse things to celebrities. I hope that whatever is bothering you and causing you to be so hateful is resolved and you can find peace and positivity in your life. Treat people with kindness.

Sorry this got so long but I felt like I needed to speak up and offer my elder millennial wisdom lol 😅

🫶🏻

WELP HERE I AM CRYING!

Thank you so fucking much for this long and lovely message. It was something I needed after these last couple of days! I also stay on the good side of the fandom because there are SO many wonderful and lovely people here. I've met so many amazing people, and I am so thankful to call them my friends. I do my best to ignore all the anon hate messages I get but sometimes, I feel the need to defend myself and my blog(which seems to be a lot more recently).

I will never turn off my anon option because a lot of my followers love the option to remain on anon because it's what they're comfortable with. I refuse to let some miserable person who chooses to throw hate on anon ruin it for others.

I am choosing to always focus on every single one of you who always loves and supports me rather than the few who have nothing better to do than to spew unnecessary hate.

And one thing I ALWAYS say is "kill em with kindness."

Also, my inbox is always open! Feel free to pop in anytime and we can chat about whatever! My blog is a safe space for everyone. 🪽🖤

[rapid-artwork]

Are you planning to continue your ‘red lotus korra’ au?

Actually yes! I had to step away from my online art projects for a while due to my job obligations, but I've switched to a new job and have way more free to finish all the stuff I've been putting off.

My current schedule for finishing projects looks like this:

Mother's Favorite: I've written most of the script for the full game and I'm working on the assets and sprites

The Homunculus: I've actually been writing a full length fantasy novel that I'm in the process of publishing! Since it was started as writing practice, it's still very rough and I am polishing it up.

Red Lotus AU: Obviously I'm on a writing kick and I literally just re-read my fic and I'm already working on new ideas for the plot.

More Paper craft robots: I literally cannot stop making these little guys. They are actually for a homebrew table top I've been working on based on Armored Core 6 and after some play-testing I was thinking about publishing a PDF of the rules for free. Plus once I've edited the paper craft files enough I was planning on selling those online for like, a dollar or two for people who want to try making their own at home, and even opening commissions to build custom robots for people and shipping them through the mail.

Patreon Card game: I'm in the process of shutting down my old Patreon since I no longer feel comfortable asking for money since art is not my full time job. But I want to deliver on the card game I promised. I recently got into the Pokemon TCG and Magic the gather again, and I have a whole slew of ideas on how to fix the game and streamline it.

Rapid Pixel Art and Tara and Kevin: My children... I have abandoned my children... I intend to bring these guys back and actually tell their story. I have both of their plots fully written I just actually gotta... Do it ya know?

Mother's Favorite Sequel: Yeah the sequel is already in the works since I am insane. It's a murder mystery aboard a space ship where you have to interview the crew and figure out what happened. It follows a new protagonist but it slowly reveals how the two games intersect in horrifying ways. Imagine that episode of Firefly where they find the ship attacked by Reavers crossed with John Carpenter's The Thing and you've got a good idea of what I'm going for.

Various other WIPs that have been rattling around in my brain.

I've been dealing with ADHD my whole life but finally got an official diagnosis and new medication. It literally feels like an anime where I take of my limiters and I can suddenly use my full power.

I have all the same manic energy but finally enough focus to actually follow through on projects I started. I used to just start stuff cuz it interested me until I got bored and moved on.

No longer says I! I am gonna out in the work and finish what I started. I am going for the platinum medal and 100% completion this time.

[eccentric-nucleus]

so i signed up for that 404 media mailing list b/c i mean, why not. so now i am also getting emails from them and so far it has not been too annoying. several articles about various food delivery aggregators using bizarre ai-generated food photography, that kind of thing.

the thing i got today was about people on etsy making bespoke hardcover editions of fanfiction (not their own, just whatever fanfic is popular) and selling them. apparently a lot of draco/hermione fanfiction.

from the article:

“due to the seemingly unstoppable monetization of fandom and the sheer volume of illegal fan bindings being sold, I will be pulling all my works within the next few days,” they wrote on Tumblr. “thank you to those of you who worked so hard trying to keep fandom free and to all of you who supported my writing. it was fun while it lasted”

“I hate these shitty vultures who are destroying fandom spaces to make money before moving onto the next grift once we are burned to the ground,” a Redditor wrote in a thread about the announcement. “Vultures is exactly what they fucking are,” someone else replied.

it has been super weird to see fandom becoming more and more monetizable. i remember when even the suggestion that somebody might be exchanging money for product would get people kicked off fanfic sites. even running charity drives for fan in exchange for charity receipts was considered risky and dangerous! and now there's a bunch of people like "ugh ao3 is so annoying; why don't they let me post links to my commission form on my fics". money slowly and insidiously making its way into the fandom entity.

(i've actually had multiple people tell me they've gotten commissions inspired by my fics, or ask me if i take take money for writing further chapters of w/e fic, and it's always such a weird thing. that used to be such an out-there stance to take and now there are plenty of people that... i mean, i've just been posting about scribblehub. a large part of that site is absolutely hosting porn fanfic with patreon links attached. now it's a Market.)

i do feel like just saying that economic interests inevitably hollow out all hobbyist communities and turn them into empty enclosures filled with advertising is a little doomerist of me, but oof it's hard to see the increasing monetization of these spaces as anything other than another threat to any real community

there's this old saying about the difference between an author and an agent is that an author genuinely wants people to read their work. part of the value of getting published is so people see something you cared about making, not just the money. the agent is there to be a dispassionate advocate so that they can actually make money off of their work, b/c the author is kind of biased there. everybody having to be their own agent just kinda sucks for a lot of reasons

[crplpunkklavier]

I'm rereading Exorcism (now that its finished! yahoo) and I love Kitty Poes sm shes such an interesting characterrr would you wanna tell me about your process for developing her? ig I couldve DMed you but I myself love a chance to rant publicly so here you go lmao. I am unfortunately only on chapter 14 (though I got further than that last time) so if you wanna be spoilery just give me a warning and I'll read it later >:3c

kitty my best friend kitty

i think i can go over this without any spoilers past chapter 14! you have already seen her big arc and i am sooo happy people liked her <333

so! i've never mentioned this to anyone before, but kitty is a bit of a riff off of one of my oldest OCs. when i was about 18, i was big into katekyo hitman reborn, mostly because i was even bigger into organized crime as a general topic. catalena foggia was the youngest of four, and after a rival family took out her parents and all three of her older brothers (you know, the sort of backstory you give people as a teenager) she very grimly stepped up to the throne.

now whenever i need a female character with a "hello, i Run This Place" air about her, my mind goes to catalena, who of course was called cat by all her friends.

and i knew that i wanted a character like that as klavier's manager. generally, whenever i get to make OCs for my aa fics, i try to make most of them women if they aren't already implied to be men by canon like the rest of the gavinners, since aa refuses to have adult female characters that don't die. the gavinners started out as a bunch of teenage guys, the music industry is tough as nails, LA is horrible..... nobody but cat could've done it, man.

the whole dutch connection sort of happened on the fly. i knew i didn't want to call her catalena foggia, even if nobody but, like, the two irl friends i still have who knew me at 18 lol, knew of that oc. it was still important to me to differentiate, because this wasn't cat, this was a new oc who was very similar to and inspired by her. i remembered that kitty is a valid first name, so i went for that, because i like to think i'm funny. :^)

once you reach the end of exorcism, you'll find a little gdoc with bonus content i left in the end notes there, which among other things contains explanations for all the pun names i've used in the fic. including kitty's, but i'll reiterate here: the reason i stuck with a cat theme was that klavier gavin, in my mind, is absolutely a golden retriever, so i wanted to give him a manager/babysitter who is a cat. a big cat. kitty is short in stature, but i mention her lion's mane of hair often enough in the text, so, u know.

that's also part of what i wanted her to be. yeah, she had to be tough simply for the industry and for the fact that she was managing teenagers for a while, but i also knew that i wanted to give klavier friends, and people in his life who really care about him, and will stick with him through all this. kitty is lawfully loyal: if she doesn't agree with something, she has no trouble walking out, but once she actually takes to someone like she took to klavier, she will be fiercely protective. i never mentioned her age, but i imagined her in exorcism to be somewhere in her mid to late 40s. she's seasoned, she's experienced, she's capable - she's what klavier deserves!!! that's what i wanted. kristoph and daryan are so painfully incompetent, when it comes down to it. klavier needs people in his life who know what they're doing.

so, i wanted a big little lion lady for my dog boy. i sort of just clicked through my various dictionaries for a while looking up different cat terms in different languages to see if any of them sounded enough like a last name, and that's how i landed on poes. only after that did i decide to make the dutch conundrum A Thing.

thank you for asking about her <33333 enjoy the rest of the fic, feel free to keep me posted about ur reading experience too :3c

[geddy-leesbian]

hey look it's all my Serrennedy fic (note that I did not come up with tags for the AU's until making this post, meaning I have to go back to retroactively tag the posts I've made, which is going to take a while because tumblr's search is hot garbage.)

and also due to tumblr's search being garbage, searching my blog for my tags won't give you shit, but if you click to search all of tumblr instead, every post will show up. idk man, that's just how it is.

RE2 AU

started as a one-shot and then spiraled into a whole RE2 AU. the only thing I've written where things pretty much go right for them 💖 Leon isn't a government agent, Luis is a stay at home dad, and Claire and Luis lovingly bully Leon together.

tag: 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.

How Do You Talk To Girls? (2/3 chapters posted)

❝Don Juan, eh? Always thought of myself as more of a Don Quixote, but if the shoe fits… How about we try some practice anyway? I can talk to you like I'd talk to a girl, give you a first-hand demonstration.❞ OR Leon tries to learn how to pick up women from Luis, and instead has a bisexual awakening and picks up Luis. Task Failed Successfully.

“𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒏𝒈 ���𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝑰𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑭𝒓𝒂��𝒅” (unpublished WIP)

Claire and Luis are getting married.

Something A Little More Plain

Not in the same continuity as the other two fics, but it is an RE2 AU, so I'm putting it here. Just really soft Luis being a dad to twins content. The only thing I've written about them that is just fluff and no angst.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Signals // Childhood Friend AU

playlist

tag: 【𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙤.】

𝑇𝘩𝜀 𝛥𝜋𝛼𝑙𝜎𝑔 𝐾𝜄𝜕 (1988)

you move me, you move me. with your buildings and your eyes, autumn woods and winter skies. you call me, you call me.

»»————-💙————-««

somewhere out of a memory, of lighted streets on quiet nights… (1988)

»»————-💙————-««

ΠⴹⰞ Ⱎ⎕ᒥᒪᗪ ᎷᗅΠ (1988-2004)

he's old enough to know what’s right, but young enough not to choose it.

»»————-💙————-««

Digital Man // Open Secrets (2004) (1/? chapters posted)

Well I guess we all have these feelings we can’t leave unreconciled. Some of them burned on our ceilings, some of them learned as a child.

The things that we’re concealing will never let us grow. Time will do its healing, you’ve got to let it go.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

BU2B (aka Leon Fucking Dies)

(2/3 chapters posted)

❝That Agent Kennedy is proving to be quite a thorn in my side, much like you. I need him to live long enough for him to appreciate his gift and go home and begin to spread it to the rest of the world, but he's starting to cause a little too much trouble. But still, it would be a shame to have to kill him. Such a 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 it would be. If only there was some distraction to keep him occupied and out of trouble… You 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 him, don't you?❞ ❝This isn't about him. Say whatever you want about 𝘮𝘦, but keep 𝘩𝘪𝘴 name out of your mouth.❞ ❝But you'll want to hear this: He's quite fond of you too. He doesn't want to admit it, but I've been in his head. He likes it when you tease him. He 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘴 you. You could send him on wild goose chases over and over, and he'd just keep following you, until time ran out.❞

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 (𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆)

My very first Serrennedy fic,,, someday there will be a second chapter, but I have zero idea of when because I've been fighting demons tbh (by demons I mean various rough drafts because I can't figure out what the fuck to do with it. The ideas are there,,,,, but the execution is not 🫠)

Luis thinks he's a shitty person. Leon disagrees.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Other random stuff kicking around in my drafts (and feel free to ask about any of these because I love talking about them):

AU where Luis sabotages the Nemesis Project, gets caught, and sent to Rockfort Island.

Alfred Ashford notices that Luis was a child prodigy and thinks that's neat because he's a weirdo and Alexia was a child prodigy. So instead of being executed, Luis is forced to be his friend until Alexia wakes up from her cryo stasis thing. (And being his friend is not a good time, because he's a weirdo and threatens to get his sniper rifle and hunt down Luis for sport a lot.) Luis gets out when Claire does, and goes back to Valdelobos after to hide from Umbrella, meaning RE4 will still happen, although slightly different. Luis is much colder and very hesitant to help Leon, because trying to do the right thing previously got him sent to a concentration camp.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

DON'T WALK AWAY

Songfic. While Leon and Ashley are waiting on a helicopter to come pick them up post-RE4, Luis tries to quietly slip away, because he thinks he's a shitty person who doesn't deserve to have Leon. Leon notices him trying to leave and says fuck that and argues with him, insisting that he will come with Leon.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Don't have a title yet, but a little thing where Leon gets a call from Chris right after he gets back from Spain. Chris says the BSAA has been conducting their own investigation into what happened, and they found someone ex-Umbrella they had been trying to track down for years severely injured, but alive while searching the place, who claims to know Leon and that Leon would vouch that he's a good person now.

[hecatesbroom]

How I organise my (fic) writing in Notion

@this-geek wondered how I organised my works in Notion, and considering I'm nothing if not always happy to ramble about anything concerning lists and sorting my various things, here we are ;) thanks for giving me an excuse to talk about this haha

Under the cut because I have unfortunately rambled quite a bit (sorry!)

Okay so first off: I really only use Notion for my fic writing (I prefer to work on original projects in physical notebooks or Word, for reasons unknown to even me) and I only keep my first drafts in here. I move on to Google Docs for second drafts (again, who knows why I do this? I sure don't!) Anyway, onto the organisation:

This is what my main page looks like! I have some fancy sidebars I never really use, the to do list is horribly outdated, and I haven't updated that quote (from one of my favourite book series: The Locked Tomb) in ages, but I still think it looks nice!

The thing this is mainly about, though, is the part in the middle that says "all fics". This is what Notion calls a database. It's basically one gigantic collection of pages (in my case: fics) that you can add tags to and display in various different ways. I prefer gallery view because it allows me to add a picture to the overview if I want to. I used to do this for my Locked Tomb fics and it looked pretty fun:

The thing is that it's also a lot of work to find pictures to match your fics (and nowadays I'm more focused on writing than all the thing surrounding it) so my Golden Girls overview looks more like this! I still like the gallery view because it gives you a little preview of every wip :)

As you can see, there's lots of different tags under the titles. The stuff you see in this view is a quick overview (mostly to help with sorting, so all my posted wips line up, and the rest shows up according to which state of unfinishedness they're currently in)

When you click any fic in this view, you'll be taken to the actual fic, and its complete overview of tags & info! I like to keep track of a lot of things (when I remember to, anyway). Here's a little overview for the things I tracked for the finish line :)

Created: shows me the date I started the document (and therefore the fic). Very useful! I love this feature a lot

Fandom: is mainly there for organisation purposes! I set my gallery view to toggle per fandom, so it's all sorted into neat little sections thanks to this tag

Characters: pretty self explanatory

Type: I've got several categories here: "one-shot", "multi-chapter", "drabble", "ficlet", and (reserved for one AU in particular) "i honestly don't know anymore"

Status: again, there's quite a few options for this one: "plotting", "writing draft 1", "1st draft", "2nd draft", "finished", "posted", "hiatus" and "abandoned" (which I rarely use)

Quick summary: is where I play around with my ao3 summary whenever I'm bored and don't really feel like writing

Draft 1 wc: I usually just put the final word count for the first draft there, unless I remember to track individual writing sessions (in which case I add those word counts as well, like in the example above, because I love looking back on the process!)

Draft 2 wc: I tend to completely retype a fic into my google docs for the second draft. Once I've done that I put the end result into my Notion doc

Finished wc: after I've reread and edited my 2nd draft, and possibly managed to have it all get a little out of hand (like you can see in that doubled word count for the finish line, lol) I put the finished word count here!

WC goal: is just a fun way to see what my initial idea was for the fic (I try to set a goal when I've got a general idea of what I want the work to look like, and always end up exceeding it)

The rest of it is just my writing, basically! Scroll down from there and you get the body for the fic :)

I hope this was somewhat helpful! I'm not a pro at Notion by any means, but if you have any questions or need some help, feel free to ask! I'm happy to try to help out!

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

To Make a Heaven of Hell (8/?)

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Virgil is tasked to go collect more coffee than he can carry alone, thankfully someone comes to save him.

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Chapter warnings: None (please lmk if I'm missing something)

Notes: *rubbing my hands together like an evil genius* guess who's hereeeeeeeeeeee-

Anyway uh- sorry this took like three months? I genuinely don't know what happened - I was very busy over Christmas and then uni deadlines caught up on me - and I've been working on so many things that I'm just screaming into the void at this point. I'm glad I could finish this chapter, though!!! I love this fic so much!

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Whatever scheme Janus and the others had gotten up to had been almost pushed out of his mind by the time it actually came to involve him. 

Almost, because he hadn’t quite been able to stop thinking about the ‘yet’ surrounding his own involvement in the plan whenever he’d had a free second. But they’d spent enough time talking back to assholes at the Hellp desk - and at a good few hours of therapy sessions with Emile that had been mostly productive - to mostly put it out of their mind. For the most part. 

Once a week had passed since Janus and Angel had headed into Hell giggling about who knows what, Virgil started wondering if he really would be involved in this plan at all. 

—-

Barely even the day after Virgil had thought that, he was introduced to the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. 

Well, introduced is a strong word. 

He noticed the guy across the lobby - stood in the entrance to the tunnel that leads down to the residential levels of Hell. Remus was with him, it looked like he was trying to coax the pretty stranger to come further into the lobby, but when Virgil met his eyes - deep pools of molten gold that almost seemed to glow and make Virgil feel like his bones were melting but somehow in a good way? - the stranger ran. Well - good to know he was apparently scary to the pretty demon. What a great confidence boost. Virgil sighed - just as Remus seemed to across the hall - and Lily gently patted his shoulder in consolidation.

“He’s shy,” She said by way of explanation, Virgil just sighed again.

—-

“Oh Virgil!” Angel practically sang from the other end of the desk a few days later, “Can you do the coffee run alone today? Ruggy’s having a bit of a crisis over here-”

Ruggy rolled her eyes - Virgil wasn’t sure she was actually having a crisis, but it wasn’t their place to judge. 

“Sure, uh - can everyone write down their orders? I probably won't remember them alone.” Virgil said, standing up, Angel giggled and handed him a piece of paper that already had all the orders written down on it in multiple different handwritings, he frowned, okay - so they had planned this. What was going on? 

“You’re all grown up now,” Lily chuckled, probably misinterpreting his frown, “You’ve got this!”

“...Grown up?” Virgil looked at her confused, as far as he was aware, he hadn’t changed since he got here.

“Wait, did you not know?” Angel gasped, standing up again.

“Virgie you’re like two inches taller than you were before,” Sharkie pointed out, glaring at him - for growing? Which he’d apparently done at some point without his own notice - but didn’t Lily say…

“You’re settling in, kid!” Bel told him, ruffling his hair with a heavy hand that made Vrgil laugh and shove him away…. Maybe those therapy sessions were helping more than they thought? “Now go get that coffee!”

—-

The coffee shop wasn’t busy when Virgil went in, which they thanked the universe for as they nervously handed over the list of eleven wildly different coffee orders, not even realising there was an extra one - and then asked for his own too. He thought belatedly that he wasn’t sure how he would carry them all back to the desk. 

He stared blankly at the three cup holders full of various drinks and two paper bags of snacks that the barista put on the counter. He once again thanks the universe that the coffee shop is fairly empty as the barista looks at him sympathetically.

“Could no-one else on the desk come down today?” She asked, “If I wasn’t halfway through my shift I’d offer to help you take them down myself…”

“That’s okay,” Virgil waved her off, moving everything to the side so that if someone else wanted to order, they could, before sighing and putting a hand on his hip, trying to figure this out.

“Hey cutie, need some help there?” Someone asked from behind him with a voice smooth as butter in a tone that had Virgil blushing - even more so at the nickname. He turned and found himself face to face - more like face to chest, whatever did this guy get from being so tall? With the extremely pretty demon who he’d seen across the lobby in Hell just a few days earlier.

“Ha-h-hi?” Virgil stammered, feeling his train of thought screech to a halt as he looked up at the demon’s face. His sparkling golden eyes seemed to look straight through Virgil’s pale foundation to his hot blushing face - almost as red as the demon’s skin. From this close he could see bright golden freckles littering his skin like tiny stars, and Virgil could see a lot of his skin too - he wore just as little clothing as Remus did. His heart-tipped tail thrashed behind him - in a way Virgil thought seemed almost nervous, but that couldn’t be right. Smiling, the stranger picked up two of the three cup holders after putting one of the bags of pastries and cakes into the satchel he carried around his waist, an action which totally didn’t draw his eyes to somewhere where they were not supposed to be drawn - he thought he might combust with how much he was blushing as he forced himself to meet the stranger’s eyes again. 

“I see I’ve rendered you speechless,” he said, grinning to show pointed fangs - unlike Remus’ full mouth of shark-like sharp teeth, but still dangerous looking in a way that didn’t scare him, “My apologies, but I simply couldn’t leave a cutie like you to struggle after I saw you in distress.”

“I- wha- you-” Virgil stumbled to start too many sentences at once, not sure what he was even trying to say. The demon chuckled, putting his hand on his hip.

“Like what you see, sweetie?” He asked, tilting his head just a little. Virgil choked and covered his face, equal parts embarrassed and flustered by the callout.

“‘M sorry,” Virgil mumbled, trying to get his words back as his face attempted to cool down a little - but a look up to see the demon was still smiling at him just brought it back tenfold.

“What are you sorry for?” There was a hint of genuine confusion in the demon’s voice despite his smile, he tilted his head.

“I was- I was staring? That’s- rude?” Virgil said, now also confused - wasn’t he offended by Virgil blatantly looking at him?

“I’m an incubus, darling, I’m used to it,” he reassured, ruffling Virgil’s hair - someone needs to explain why that feels nice because it did even though Virgil ducked and tried to bat his hand away with a squawk of surprise that made the demon laugh, “As long as you aren’t scared of me - and hey, I was flirting with you, I dug my own grave just a little, what’s your name cutie? My brother just calls you ‘emo’.”

“Wait- you’re Remus’ brother?” Virgil perked up to ask, before immediately getting flustered again as a grin split across his face.

“That’s me,” he grinned, putting down the cup holders and offering his hand for a handshake - his claw-like nails were red but tipped with gold like he’d dipped them in glittering paint, “My name’s Roman.”

“I- ah - I’m uh- Virgil…” Virgil mumbled awkwardly, tentatively taking Roman’s hand to shake only to have their hand grasped tightly and shaken with enthusiasm. Roman’s hand was so warm. 

“Virgil? What a lovely name you have,” Roman said, bringing Virgil’s hand - which he was still holding - up to his lips to kiss, making Virgil blush a brilliant crimson, “You look like a sunrise, darling.”

Virgil could only cough and bow their head as Roman continued, “Pretty pink cheeks and lovely purple hair, hm, oh and your eyes are such a lovely blue, like the early morning sky, how perfect.”

“Oh- shut up,” Virgil mumbled, covering their face with his other hand - the one Roman wasn’t still holding, “Are you gonna help me carry coffee or not?”

Bursting out into boisterous laughter, Roman let go of his hand and picked everything back up. Virgil quickly took the others and thanked the barista - who winked knowingly at him for some reason - and began leading the way back down towards Hell. Many people stopped to stare as they walked, most of them at Roman, who’s tail had wrapped itself around his leg almost as soon as they’d stepped out of the coffee shop. Virgil couldn’t help but notice through quick sneaky glances that Roman didn’t seem half as confident out here in the universal hallway as he had been back in the coffee shop. Virgil debated asking why for a moment, deciding not to pray until they neared the gates of hell and Roman started to hide behind them. 

“Hey Roman?” Virgil said, glancing back at him, the demon perked up - as if Virgil’s attention alone had made him feel better, “Are uh- are you good? I mean- are you okay? You look more nervous than me …”

“Hm? What? No - I’m fine, totally fine,” Roman waved him off with a smile that was much faker than the ones he’d given in the coffee shop, “Why would I not be okay?”

Raising an eyebrow, Virgil looks him over, Roman’s smile slowly drops into an apprehensive expression, “Your tail is wrapped around your leg, your hands are shaking, you’re fidgeting with your claws, you’re trying to hide behind me…”

“Okay okay,” Roman put his hands up, seeming embarrassed, “I’m- I don’t really like being in the lobby of Hell, that’s all.”

Virgil tilted his head, “What - do you know what the problem itself is? Maybe I can help?” He understood anxiety pretty well after all, he hoped he could help.

“Oh it’s really nothing - it’s just - the way some of the souls look at me? It just bothers me, sometimes.”

Virgil frowns, “But- you said that me looking at you didn’t bother you?” they asked, suddenly worried he had actually upset Roman even though he’d said he wasn’t - but Roman shook his head quickly.

“It’s not the same kind of looking,” Roman said, before hiding his face with a hand when one lady from the main like glared at them, Virgil found himself giving her a fierce look in response - what had driven such protectiveness he would probably never know - but now he understood, at least a little. 

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, that was an issue Virgil was very familiar with - and he could imagine Roman got it a lot worse, considering the way he dressed and the kind of people they got at the desk. He hummed, “Hold on a second - I can- it might help…”

It was a balancing act as Virgil shrugged off his jacket without spilling or dropping anything, Roman watched in surprise as Virgil offered the jacket to him, “It’s uh- it always helps me, when I’m anxious, and it stops people from looking too hard.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Roman shifted the things he was holding and reached out to take the jacket. Where it was far too big on Virgil, it actually fit Roman a lot better, he even pulled the hood up as far as he could with his horns and covered his hands with the sleeves and gave Virgil a small smile.

“Thank you,” Roman said, Virgil noticed his tail slowly uncurling from around his leg to sway side-to-side as it had been back in the coffee shop, “This is- your jacket is very cozy.”

Virgil smiled, “Yeah? I’m glad,” it was strange - it had almost become a habit to let people borrow his jacket when they were more anxious than him - it seemed he was able to be more confident when someone else was less. Even without his jacket, in a sleeveless plum coloured turtleneck, he found he was able to keep his head held high as he led Roman back to the Hellp desk.

“Hey Emo!” Remus yelled as he approached, “Hey RoRo! I almost didn’t recognise you, nice hoodie.”

Virgil could’ve sworn Roman’s face got redder when he quietly pointed out that the jacket was Virgil’s.

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General tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

Hell's Belles AU tags: @awitchbravestheverge @twoalpacas @goldnskyart @anxious-mess19 @doteddestroyer @yourchemicallyimbalancedromance :)

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[perpetuallylatetothefandomparty]

3, 6, 10, 12, and 25 from the writer asks please!

3 - how you feel about your current WIP

I'm going to be completely honest here and say that... I kind of hate it? I'm just at that stage where the flaws are obvious and the good parts are a bit obscured from view. Once I've got it all down then I can edit it and like it a bit more. At least, that's what'll hopefully happen.

6 - the word that appears most in your current draft

"Keith" is top, then "Keith's", but excluding names the top 3 are "druid", "eyes", and "guard". Make of that what you will hehe

10 - what is the longest amount of time you've let a draft rest before you finished it?

Not sure if this counts, but when I was younger and doing original stuff, there was a story I left for 2 or 3 years before coming back and giving it a shoddy ending lmao.

Fic-wise... hmm. *glances at Google Drive and looks away from all the abandoned works* Generally that doesn't happen. If a story gets left for much longer than a month I'll take it as read that I'm probably never going to finish it haha because I'll have moved on and lost the inspiration/motivation to write it. (That's the main reason I don't post until it's all written, because I know I can't necessarily be trusted to deliver) I also don't tend to have many wips that I care about going on at once, because I'm slightly obsessive about getting them finished :)

12 - a trope you're really into right now

Ooh, I've been reading some darkfics lately- absolutely consuming that whump. (Which has inevitably bled into my writing hehe) Hurt and angst (accompanying comfort and fluff optional) are still dear to my heart in terms of genre though!

In terms of specific tropes, I love found family- it's an enduring favourite and one of the things I love Voltron for. I also go for trauma, cold-blooded and sadistic torture, Stockholm syndrome, caretaking, self-sacrifice, self-harm, human experimentation, pleading for mercy (bonus points if no mercy is forthcoming!), and of course hugs in pretty much any context absolutely destroy me. I could list more, but oops, the question was only for only one trope and that's... like... thirteen.

I guess my favourite set-up (getting a little off topic here but anyway) would be someone asking to be hurt in someone they care about's place (I'm kind of imagining a Keith scenario here) but that request is rejected and the loved one gets hurt anyway. The helplessness there is delicious to read/write.

25 - besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

I have a few! Still kind of mastering keeping the idea that 'it's okay not to touch hobbies every day' in my head, because really between classes and trying to have a social life and writing and sleeping I really don't have enough free time to pursue every hobby all the time :')

Music was a huge obsession for me a while back, and for a while I thought I'd end up studying it, but no (going for chemistry instead). Still a big part of my life though, so playing piano is one of my go-to hobbies. (Messing around on bass is a little more chill, I do that too.) And I listen to music pretty much constantly, especially when writing or travelling haha

Reading, obviously, whether that's fics or physical books. I used to do it a ton but distressingly less so since my schedule's got tighter and writing (the current dominant hobby) has been using up more of what free time I have.

Those are the main ones! I also do little bits of sound engineering and cycling (although that's usually just for my commute) and I dabble in various arty/crafty things; there's probably more, but that's all I can think of at the moment.

Thanks for the ask! ♡

[haz3-daz3]

Requests Open

I haven't written in a whole while and I don't wanna be rusty so I think I wanna get in to writing requests. This is my first time,

pls be gentle 👉👈

Headcanons mostly!! But I would take the odd full on story/request if the premise/idea is doable enough.

REQUESTS BY DEFAULT ARE SFW! IF YOU DON'T WANT THAT, PLEASE SPECIFY IT.

Fandoms

Dragon Age Origins and Dragon Age II

Drifters (I'M BEGGING YOU)

Fate/Stay Night and other Fate related stuff except FGO cuz I stopped playing the game, I'm familiar with most of it though

Fire Emblem Fates/Awakening/Heroes (I'm familiar with most characters, not all, but most)

RWBY (because vol 10 is taking longer than anticipated)

Rules

-I only do character x reader not character x OC sorry folks. But Character x Character? Eh, why not. Depends on the pairing so feel free to send them.

-NSFW is welcome. I can do SFW/Fluff too.

-Nothing too vague or super-duper specific or restrictive when requesting please, it's a little hard to get inspired when all I've got to go on is "general" like, what kind of general?? Fluff? Smeggs? Eh?? And it's also hard to think or write a scenario/headcanon with an all-too restrictive premise.

-But uh, nothing super restrictive too if that be okie 👉👈. I can accommodate of course but not ultra specific to the point where I can't work with the scenario properly

-I am female so uh, by default Y/N is female. I can write in the male perspective but not as comfortably as female so I tend to ignore requests where Reader is a male. So unless specified/asked, Y/N is female by default. Gender neutral Y/N is a-okay.

-I'm comfortable with most things except truly depraved things like forced/non-con or incest. I'd really rather not write about those things, ya know?

Don'ts

-As of now, I don't write Modern AUs. I have difficulties in writing a character from older/fantasy realms and putting them in Modern eras. RWBY's settings are fine since it has fantasy elements and a bit of medieval in it.

-Requests that are too restrictive or ask for too much. Everyone has their limits. I certainly have mine.

-Minors and NSFW combined. Fuck off with that shit. If someone asks me to write a smut fic with Ruby from Volume 1 or anything similar I'm deleting that on sight.

-Fire Emblem Three Houses and Engage. I've since stopped consuming Fire Emblem stuff outside of the ones I played (GBAs and the 3DS games and the gacha). So uh, yeah. Requests featuring characters from those two games won't be dignified.

Not every request is guaranteed. Some would be deleted due to various reasons and some will take longer than others depending on how my life goes. Please understand.

[streetkid-named-desire]

I've also been tagged in some wip whenevers but have had some morale issues lately

First is the collab smut fic between me and @luvwich

Who wants to beta 5,219 words of Bea/VG smut

Finally, he was free. Bea tilted her head to admire: V truly had a beautiful cock. It curved up to rest, heavy with blood and longing, on his lower stomach, still glossy with her spit and begging for more of it. She ran her hands up his torso, moving her body further up his, until her breasts settled on either side of his shaft. With a serene sigh, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his stomach. He was warm and soft, his muscles firm but not too firm: the perfect pillow. Eyes slipping closed, she might have nearly dozed off until she felt his cock twitch against her.

And then I wrote that lil sugar daddy thing about VG that is smutty and that I might actually turn into a longer origin thing also as more exposure therapy to writing butt stuff

Charles called to V when he entered the room to join him in the shower. V stripped on his way to the bathroom and as soon as he slid the shower door open, Charles grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him in. He attacked V's mouth, desperate for connection, for joining. V pushed him away, "Missed me?" Charles grinned and nodded. He turned V around and slammed him against the shower wall and trailed kisses down his spine. V spread his legs as Charles kneaded his firm asscheeks. He teased V, kissing his supple flesh but not quite digging in just yet. V reached his hand between his legs and stroked himself, sighing contentedly.

@merge-conflict gave me good feedback (like really good I deeply appreciate it) on chapter 3 but my brain keeps seeing it as A Whole Thing because there are some major holes I have to fill and I'm kinda just at a standstill. Tbh I'm debating fixing what I feel my brain can fix and then just publishing and moving on. I can fix those other parts later.

Anyway it did force me to resolve the whole V cheating on Panam thing

"Really? A fucking mine?" V stared at the fading blue architecture blueprint for an abandoned mine shaft currently being used by some Raffen. He folded his arms and read the notes in Panam's handwriting where she had annotated various points of egress and speculation around where they were keeping the captives. It was the most thoroughly documented plan he'd ever seen come from Panam.

"What, afraid of the dark?" Panam teased. V looked up at her smiling face, her eyes glinting with the familiar glee she got before gigs. After Saul had convinced her to let V stay with them, she took him aside and yelled at him. A lot. He stood there and agreed with everything she said, every name she called him. She didn’t forgive him–and never would–but she never forgot all that he did for the family, and that mattered. The more time he spent in camp, the closer they got to rekindling their friendship.

Otherwise I've just been playing DAO and taking VP. Been doing some roleplaying with @totentnz of the early years of our Vs friendships

V shifts uncomfortably in his chair and slips his phone back in his pocket. "Did you know you can get unlimited balls for Skee-ball by playing a specific frequency from your phone by the machines?" V looks around at the other games. "Okay, that motorcycle racing game and the snowboarding one? Shove a penny in a specific spot beneath the seat or board and you can lean farther to the side than you should be able to. Just...don't fall off." He stands up to get a better view at the other machines. "Air hockey? Actually, I'm just really good at that one, nevermind." V pulls out his phone again to reply, turned away from V, <got a working shower with hot water?>

My birthday is next month. Gonna get myself a fancy cake. Probably ask it to be decorated in the blorbo colors.

Just got the summer blues or something idk existing is hard

[otomiyaa]

Questions & Answers

Hi hi, finally some time to write this! Due to recent events I've been getting some questions from various people and I also have some questions for you guys so I'll try to do this in 1 post 😸

My answers:

Are you really not planning to write fics anymore?

That's the plan *nodnod*, but you know me. There's always a 'but' and a clown mask ready in my storage to put on if I happen to go against my own words. But the intention is to stop posting fics here, I'm too tired of it now lol. I might post a fic or two on AO3 once in a while, maybe write a collab with Mia if I feel like it. It's just... how do I say it.. my motivation to write more fics basically got washed down the drain together with blog #1. Let us see for how long that motivation swims in the sewers...

Can you reupload [fic name]?

If it's on my AO3, I won't. If it's not, hmm.... I probably also won't. But! It depends on the fic. Always feel free to ask, but please don't get angry when I say no! ^^ For now I have an exception: commissions. More about this down below in my question to you guys.

Why won't you try to get your old blog back?

It would require filing an objection against the copyright claims against me with all the legal risks, submitting my personal info from home address to name, and consenting to USA legal law stuffs bluhblahblah... :") For me too much of a hassle. I don't think my blog is worth it. Even if I don't know the exact details, I'm sure they're not wrong. Whether it's fair or not, most fandom stuff has copyright issues in the end, so I can't protest against the claims with 100% certainty it won't get me in real trouble. More info about this soon in another post!

My questions:

👇 only for those interested, feel free to comment, send ask or DM if you have can help :)

Do you have reblogs of my old posts?

To everyone who has some posts left on their blog that were mine, whether it's a headcanon, fic (still accessible one, so not a broken 'keep reading'- link), manga or anime scene, ask game, gif set or translation, if it's not too much trouble could you maybe comment on that post and @ me? Or... send me a link or smth in DM? Doesn't need to be every single trivial post. Maybe just the ones you liked most, or something... idk. I just might want to re-share a couple of posts here and it's so hard finding reblogs of my anonface-blog through search functions and stuff. Any help will be greatly appreciated!

P.S. I also found a lot of old posts, or posts that I liked (such as tickle art etc.) in the archives of @ticklygiggles, @ticklishdreams, @infrequent-creator - I hope you guys won't mind me making use of this (also thank you for the awesome support through the years afihs;ogojjoihgjn)!

Did you have a commission that was on my blog and do you prefer if this is reposted or not?

Some people 'bought' fics back when I had a shady kofi shop running and those fics were posted both on my AO3 and Tumblr (+ were sent in PDF format if requested). No matter how much you paid for the fic, part of the deal was that it would be posted on Tumblr so if by any chance you lost a commissioned fic and wish for me to repost this here on the new blog, please let me know...:3

Anything else? 👀

Well... With the loss of my account there were more things that went lost than just my fics, such as asks that were still in my inbox, DMs, personal stories and more. I did not back up anything and have zero overview and my memory is shit. If I am forgetting something, if you once sent me something and it's now gone (and you still have it), or if there's anything else I am missing smh, please let me know.

However please note that I am not planning to turn this blog into a copy of my previous one. If you submitted a fic to my old blog, I won't repost it here sadly (I hope you saved it). But if you posted an irl tickle story (I'll still accept these), a headcanon for your fav character or pairing or something else, I'll gladly accept it even if it's a copy of what you once sent to my old blog! With that said, I'll go back to finishing that second-to-last tickletober fic of mine... after I eat dinner. muhahah.