#how many references can i make relating to one fic

[wynncass]

i feel like a ragdoll being manipulated

[bewareofthenewphannie]

sigh....please don't kill me for this

AO3 Phandom Stats - Top or Bottom?

As many of you may have noticed there has been a shift in the depiction of Dan and Phil in fanfiction over the past few months from previously predominantly Dan being written as the bottom to now largely Phil bottoming. This post aims to put that trend into numbers and visualise it in a few overly convoluted diagrams below the cut.

Does any of this matter? Absolutely not.

Is it interesting? Oh boy, it sure is!

Disclaimer: This is an analysis of the fanfiction writing and tagging trends within the Phandom. It's at most tangentially related to the Real People Dan and Phil and is not meant to spark any type of discourse. I am doing this as an avid fanfic reader and with the utmost respect and appreciation for the authors of these fics, so I don't want to see any negativity directed towards them. Above all this is meant to be fun and interesting.

And as always - don't like it, don't read it <3

Note on accessibility: linked here is a doc with all the numbers shown in the screenshots of this post. Inspired by emma's stats I will be putting the cell range in the ID - if there's a better way to do this, please lmk!!

Methodology

To get the numbers shown here I filtered the works in the Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF) AO3 tag by "date updated" from the Jan 1st to Dec 31st of each year and by the following tags:

Bottom Dan Howell

Bottom Phil Lester

Top Dan Howell

Top Phil Lester

Short excurse on AO3 tags for those unaware:

The tags I chose are canonical tags, which means other tags that mean the same thing but are for example spelled differently are linked to this tag by tag wranglers and appear when you search for the canonical tag (see example below).

Additionally, the "bottom x" tags are metatags for the power bottom tags, which means fics tagged with "power bottom x" also appear when you filter works for these tags.

It's important to note that not every fic where one of them tops or bottoms is tagged as such. That means these stats very specifically look at the author's choice to tag fics with these tags and not the overall amount of fics where one of them tops or bottoms. However, I would argue it's fair to assume that it's at least somewhat reflective of the general writing trends within the Phandom.

For simplicity's sake I will refer to these tags as e.g. "Bottom!Phil" (b!p) going forward.

Stats 2013 - 2024

Here you can see how many fics were tagged with each tag in the respective year and the amount of bottom!dan and bottom!phil fics relative to the total amount of fanfic written in the same time span.

As expected, up until 2023 the split was about 2 b!d to 1 b!p fic (precise numbers: 71% to 29%; see pie chart above).

In 2018 we can see a peak in both in the number of phanfics written and the relative amount of fics tagged as bottom!dan.

Starting in 2023 (more on that below!) this flips and in 2024 the ratio of b!d to b!p fics was 1 to 4 (precise numbers: 81% to 19%; see pie chart above).

Furthermore, making up 4,62% of the total amount of phanfics written in 2024, the bottom!phil tag is relatively speaking twice as popular now as the bottom!dan tag ever was.

Sidenote: You can see that generally the amount of fics tagged with b!d and t!p, as well as b!p and t!d correspond to each other for obvious reasons (they're usually fucking each other). This year however there's 16 fics more tagged with bottom!phil than top!dan, which shows that there's been a very specific interest in writing and tagging bottom!phil in the last year.

Here you can see the total amount of phanfics written by year because I already collected the data, so I might as well put it here:

Stats 11/2023 - 12/2024

Now I want to take a closer look at the past few months post hiatus.

You can see that there's been a steady increase in the total amount of fics written per month!

That's incredibly cool!! (Love to all the wonderful writers out there <33)

Before we get into the actual stats, it's important to note that we're working with very low numbers here, so don't be fooled by overinterpreting percentages in the first few months depicted and look at the actual numbers! In the diagram below I excluded September and October 2023 because there simply wasn't enough data to produce useable results.

Contrary to what I expected, the increase in fics tagged with bottom!phil does not coincide with gamingmas 2023 (pour bot hem and top bunk kind of guy), nor phil's birthday live stream (topped by kakuna) but only really starts in June 24 and spikes in August for reasons I'm not fully sure about.

If I had to pin it on one thing it'd be the precious baby angel picture, which was posted in mid August.

Much more likely is though that this was simply a dynamic that built over months and had a wide array of reasons mentioned above and could very well be a self-reinforcing dynamic of more and more people looking for that tag and also writing for it.

If anyone has more insight on this, please share your thoughts :]

On that note, I'm finally done yapping, I hope this was at least mildly interesting!

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Plaid Flannel Shirt - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: I drew a lot from my own struggles with dysphoria for this, which is why it’s a little more specific than my other fics. I hope it’s still relatable. Let me know if I missed any warnings

Written for this request

CW: clothing issues; Reader is implied to be smaller than Logan; gender euphoria mentions; clothes stealing/sharing; cuddling; Logan smokes cigars in this; Reader is called handsome several times; language; praise kink; explicit sexual content; smut; grinding; Reader’s parts are referred to as dick and hole; dirty talk; mentioned mirror sex; manhandling; mentioned multiple rounds; mentioned nudity; maybe ooc Logan

673 words

It starts and ends with a shirt. One of Logan’s, to be exact.

You’ve always had an issue with clothes. They’re too tight, or too feminine, or too expensive. It’s always something with clothes.

So when you first steal the shirt from Logan’s closet, it’s a bit of a deal. Until you put it on.

Standing there, in front of the mirror, gazing at yourself in Logan’s shirt, you look a bit silly. Silly, but not feminine.

It’s something about the drape of the shirt. The particular shadows of the fabric. Something about the shirt. But it’s perfect.

You look like a guy. You are one, you know this. But you finally look like one.

That’s how the whole shirt stealing starts.

Logan seems to find it cute. At the very least, he doesn’t stop you. In fact, you’re pretty sure he’s left his room open on multiple occasions right during the times when you stop by to steal his shirts.

Whatever his reasoning is, he seems content with what you’re doing.

So when he asks about your reason for doing it one day, you don’t think anything of it.

The two of you are cuddling in his room. Door shut, window open so he can smoke in peace. He’s on his second cigar and you’re all content and happy.

“You like wearing my shirts, huh?” He plucks at the fabric of the plaid flannel you’re wearing. It’s his, of course.

“Mhmm.” You don’t open your eyes, head resting on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, low and steady.

“Any particular reason why?”

“They make me feel good,” you mumble. “Like a man. All rugged and fierce.”

He chuckles quietly. “They make you feel like a man?”

“Mhmm.”

He hums thoughtfully. “You look good in them. Handsome and shit.”

Your face heats up. Sure, he’s complimented you before, but he’s never directly called you handsome.

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest. “Say it again?”

“Say what again?” He glances down at you, taking a hit from his cigar.

“That I’m handsome.”

He studies you for a moment, then smirks. He leans closer. “You’re the handsomest goddamn man I’ve ever met.”

It goes straight to your dick, sending heat flooding throughout your body. Like a shot of pure lust.

“Again?” Your voice comes out raspy.

He chuckles and stubs out his cigar. He pulls you up, kissing you firmly on the lips as he guides you on top of him.

“My handsome. Fucking. Man.” He punctuates his words with kisses, sliding his hands down to your hips. “Thought I was dreaming when I first saw you. So sexy and fine as hell.”

You moan into his mouth, shifting to grind against his hardening cock. You’re ridiculously wet, just from his words.

He nips at your lower lip, thrusting up against you as well. “And then you, fuck, go walking around in my shirts. Making me go wild. Can’t tell you how many times I had to excuse myself ‘cause you looked so goddamn hot.”

You smother him in kisses, sliding your hands into his hair. You lick into his mouth, tracing his teeth with your tongue as you practically hump his dick. “Logan…!”

“I got you, handsome.” He groans back, rocking up into you. “Gonna fuck you so good after this. Stuff that delicious fucking hole of yours so full you can’t breathe. Maybe even do it in front of the mirror, so you can see how fucking handsome you really are.”

It’s enough to send you toppling over the edge, and oh do you cum hard. You fist your hands in his hair, crying out his name as white hot pleasure seeps into your bones.

Logan gives you one moment before pulling you up into his arms. To manhandle you into place so he can fuck you like he wants. He makes good on his promises, fucking you twice on the bed and once in front of the mirror.

The only piece of clothing you have on? His plaid flannel shirt.

[elizabethminkel]

hi i read your article on fanfiction culture changing and it reminded me of a comment i got on a fic in 2023. (i was going to say this year/recently but then i checked and wow time moves fast) it was phrased like i wasn't ever going to see it. which is weird bc there were only 2 other comments both of which i'd responded to. it was written almost to an audience that did not include me. idk what that says about the "culture" but i enjoyed your article!

Aw <3 thank you so much! (If anyone hasn't read it yet, this is in reference to "The Endless Appetite for Fanfiction.")

That's super interesting, and definitely relates to this broader ~thing~ imo. My first thought is about the (significant?) rise in people putting fic reviews on Goodreads. That's definitely part of the overall context collapse—and deeply annoys me!!—but it does make me think about the concrit conversation, and how fandom post-LJ has largely shut down critical discussion of fic, which was not a rarity back in the day. (I'm not opening that can of worms now lol.) Like, I have sympathy for the Discord fic book clubs, because you should be allowed to say whatever you want about a fic in private! But I feel like that needs to be just one component, especially if you have a lot of positive things to say about a work.

Funnily, I got a comment somewhat recently that felt, at least in one bit, like it was addressed more to the world than to me. It was a really nice comment! But I showed it to a friend in my confusion (and then just replied like it hadn't struck me as odd). I've also received comments in the last few years on older stories in which the commenter acts like I've long departed from my fandom—when I've published new works as recently as a few weeks prior, and post on my (linked from my AO3 profile) tumblr daily. Which seems related, too—like, me, the fan, is still right there, very easy to see?

I do think there's something to be said about depersonalization across social media, and the way people collapse "content creators" with their "content" (to be clear, I'm not calling fic writers or fic either of these things, but part of this whole situation is that a lot of readers are thinking of them that way). Like, the creator economy is structured to encourage people do that, even. And of course there's great commentary here on tumblr dot com and elsewhere about how people talk to strangers in ways they'd never dare to in real life. I mean, the digital disconnect led to plenty of...issues...back in the day, even when fandom and fanfic weren't as bifurcated as right now.

Anyway, I think this is all swirling together...and like, it's not great! (Haha this is like how I ended the article. "This sucks! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯") But thanks again for your message—this topic has so many interesting, if depressing, facets!!

[wtfsteveharrington]

take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader

push the reset button we're becomin' something new

description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.

content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.

author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!

even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.

But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 

It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 

She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.

And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 

Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 

The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 

No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 

As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 

“Hey - Been looking for you.”

Carmen.

Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 

He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 

There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 

“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 

Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 

You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 

T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.

Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 

Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 

And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 

You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.

Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.

“Hey.” 

You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 

He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 

“M’still mad at you.” 

He winces but he knew it was coming. 

The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 

And you still won’t look at him. 

He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.

Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 

“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 

Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 

The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.

Until now. 

You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 

He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 

A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 

Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 

You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 

“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 

The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 

“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 

He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 

Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 

Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 

Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.

He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 

Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 

Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 

Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 

He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 

It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 

“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.

You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 

There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 

[dailyhmsw]

what are The Gang's thoughts on darrell? the Chicken.

mind and the chicken he Didn't Want...... why... does darrell almost remind him of heart? Feathers and Wings and all? how does he feel that They have a chicken of all things?

when did darrell even come into play? wwas the Chicken Always there? has Resident Heart ever seen darrell? what does heart think of a fellow Bird Thing.....

was darrell just found One Day and soul just Picked him up and decided he wanted that damn chicken? Is there a Story to Darrell?

how often do they Dress Darrell Up in stupid outfits this ones important

i have So Much to ask about your thoughts on these Creatures but don't want to bombard you :)

YAYAYAYAYAYYA DARRELL ASK I GETTO SHARE HEADCABNONS I WOULDNT SHARE OTHERWISE OKOKOK

SO outside of universe i know darrell's origins.. i actually read a fic once back when i was still new to the fandom about the Losers finding and getting used to darrell, wherein soul just. conjures him. which is really funny to think about and i adore that fic so much if i can remember the title i'll edit this post to add it

but something within me just REALLY wants an explanation that aligns with the rest of the story. there needs to be MEANING BEHIND THE CHICKEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and so i present you with this:

he is technically of soul's creation, coming from a want for comfort and unity. but soul didn't create him on purpose, he just came out of his room one day in the middle of the night to find a feathered ball waddling around the living room. darrell is very soft to the touch and unbothered by most things, and he's more than happy to be cuddled and touched for long periods of time. soul doesn't remember when he first saw darrell but it's been so long it's like he's always been here.

as i've shared before, my design for him is based on a barbu d'uccle.. he's a fat little brown chicken with little mottled spots and feathers covering his little feet...,, he's also a hen. he has laid. eggs. but hms don't really seem to care about that too much

the thing is that everyone loves darrell..,, he often gets referred to as "soul's chicken" but heart and mind love him just as much. he's almost a part of them in his own right; a little beacon of hope, as stupid as that might sound. his presence is designed to be comforting and warm, like he's meant to evoke a feeling of wholeness.....,, soul especially sees him and his brown, almost orange-y feathers and feels an odd connection.

BUTANNNYWAYS to answer the other questions!!!:

mind relates all things animal to heart so he was a little apprehensive of the chicken at first, and the reasoning soul gave for his existence (being a comfort animal of sorts) didn't make much sense to him.,, he came around because having a pet to take care of and nurture felt very good for him, and in exchange he gets to hang out with a creature that Isn't Bothersome [even though it's a chicken, a farm animal - why couldn't it have been a dog or something?]

heart LOVES darrell and he has since the start. he's a very tactile person so, if the chicken is near, he is PETTING thoise FEATHERS. and he does find a little comfort in the beloved pet sharing so many physical similarities with him. unfortunately heart has never seen him, but soul has described darrell to him many many times. he pictures him as a big fluffy brown chicken with dumb little curious eyes and huge wings like his own and he loves darrell so much.

amd OBVIOUSLY they dress him up in dumb outfits OOBBBVIOUSLY it is a pet owner's DUTY to do so at least once!!!! often for holidays and stuff they give him little hats yknow . it is Vital for their Harmonization.

tldr god they LOVE HIMMMM he's sweet he's comforting and he provides them with the motivation to take care of both him and themselves C: and his existence comes from a desire for harmony.. he's the only thing that they will always love together

[simpjaes]

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏❤︎ SIMPJAES WRITING TIPS ͏❤︎

hello! I realize how often I get asked to provide tips for new writers and here I am making a full post for it so that way I can always have something to refer people to! So, here's my personal tips with writing. they might not work for everyone, but these are all things I do or have done when starting out.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏❤︎ ACCESSIBILITY.

• something I always do, and literally beg other people to do: please put works over 1k under a read more bar. not just for the ease of scrolling for others, but because when you don't you end up forcing anyone and everyone to scroll your work. this is not being mindful as there are minors who may run across your fics and you should not be allowing it to be that available for them to witness. better yet, force them to scroll through it. • see the gradient text titling this post? this is cute, it's fun, pretty to look at, but keep in mind not everyone uses light mode like i do, they may not be able to see the darker parts of my text because of this. same goes the other way around. maintain visibility if you're trying to make your fics legible. not everyone has the best eyesight either, keep that in mind when making your posts and trying to make them pretty. • tag. your. fics. properly. in. the. content. section. of. your. work. do not censor your trigger words, be blatant and honest about what you are posting so that people do not find themselves shocked or upset if you happen to write darker fics. • also tag your fics properly within the tag area of your post. do not tag every member on your post if they aren't in the fic. it will more often than not annoy people rather than get them to read your work. additionally: i wouldn't tag hard hours under the smut tags unless it's actually relating to smut or is long enough to be considered a drabble. Otherwise, tag it under the hard hours tag for your fandom, not the common fic tags. • no, you don't need a banner or "cover" for your fic though I will say that it helps tremendously to include a visual alongside it. many gif makers here do not want their work involved with smut though, so be sure to make your own banners or gifs and do not use someone else's images without their permission.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏❤︎ IDEAS & OUTLINING

• How do you come up with new ideas? typically, for me at least, ideas come naturally or when I get some sort of inspiration and build off of it. Many times, inspiration comes from a lyric or a scene in a movie. Other times, it can come from something as cringy as a dream, or a funny conversation with friends. You can even base your fics off of your real life, just be careful with that if you're sharing them publicly, as with anything personal, it's not always fun to share with everyone. • how do you start to flesh out an idea? I have different methods but my first tip is to keep your notes app open on your phone and write down literally any and every idea possible. whether it's for a new fic idea, or one you're already working on. Often times just a few words is enough to remember your state of mind at the time and inspire you all over again when you get to it. fleshing it out is different. my primary way of doing this goes in this exact order: ➤͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏write a few paragraphs that would sum up the entire fic in a document. from start to finish, summarize it however you need to. it does NOT need to be perfect.➤͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏give it a title and a make a banner. ➤͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏i always write the fic synopsis at this point, it helps me stay on track and stick to the plot. if I go off track anyway, I just change the synopsis lmfao. ➤͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏take your previous paragraph of ideas and one sentence at a time, start outlining each portion.

ex paragraph: jake is always alone, and it's driving him mad. so mad that he seeks the company of a familiar face that would never, ever, expect to see him again. Strangely enough, your curiosity upon your ex best friend's ex boyfriend contacting you drives you to places you never thought you'd go (his house.)

➤͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏now ask yourself questions: why is jake alone? why is he going mad? what makes him seek company? why does he choose you? how does he contact you? what happens after he contacts you? what is the point of view? how do you as the reader feel when he contacts you? where does this lead?

all of that is the very start of an outline. from there you can start fleshing out scenes vs. filler in as much or as little detail as you like.

example of outline: ① ➤͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏scene of jake alone in his room wallowing in his thoughts. angst angst angst filler. talk about his dynamic with his ex girlfriend and why he's so lonely at this point. move forward to his relationship with reader and explain why she's on his mind too. ② ➤͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ jake texting you, blah blah blah, you give him the run around but he seems really desperate. not for like...sex or anything, he genuinely just seems lonely. you're curious despite, you know, being well aware that if your ex bestie found out, she'd beat the fuck out of you. cute flirting for like a few weeks via text. ③ ➤͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏three weeks pass, you and jake are kinda flirty via text but it always ends abruptly. he's....very sad, like a lost puppy. you might sort of have some sort of crush. explain reader's point of view, her dynamic with jake before vs. now. she ends up texting him after he dips on his previous flirting again, being blatant and forward with him about it. "why do you keep flirting then acting like im weird when i flirt back?" etc etc etc, you get the point. I'm not seriously going to sit here and flesh out an entire outline i made up just now and don't intend to ever write, sorry KJFHDSKJ

• Do i need an outline? hell no you don't. sometimes it's better to just take your initial idea and run with it. my best advice here is to do a first draft. free write, as in: write without fixing anything, go wherever your mind takes you, then when you're done for the day just leave it be and come back with fresh eyes. if you like where it's going, keep going. if you don't, boom, second draft.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏❤︎ WRITING PROCESS

• don't be hard on yourself. no one is looking at your fic but you right now. try any and all ideas, shift scenes around, change whatever you want. it doesn't matter if it's not what you promised. you are the writer. • you may notice that i rarely proof read my works, you can search for a beta/editor if you'd like. just make sure they know the time frame you'd like for your fic to be posted and set some boundaries so they don't end up insulting your work. for instance, in the past, i only allow editors to fix typos, sentence flow, and grammatical errors. i do not ever allow them to comment on plot changes, character changes, etc. • don't want an editor but also don't want your fic to be full of typos? the best I can offer is: every time you finish writing for the day/night and pick up on another day...re-read everything you previously wrote. not only does this help get you into the right mindset, you can catch typos and errors along the way. • not every fic needs research, sorry. If you're writing a smut fic and you intend to focus on smut, just let people know you may have incorrect information regarding whatever. for instance: i like religion kink because i hate religion. because I hate religion, i do not do research on it and use the knowledge i know and what i grew up with. I make that loud and clear to everyone. It's kind of bitchy and lazy though, not gonna lie. but again, if it's smut, people are there for the porn anyway, and not the ins and out of the career one of your characters has.

• TALK TO YOURSELF. Speak the dialogue out loud, yes, even the dirty talk. This is the best way to determine if something sounds awkward.

• this is more of a me thing but, avoid using "y/n" in dialogue. more often than not, this is where it gets very very cringe. In reality, you do not need "y/n" as an indicator that your name is being said or called. You can change that part from dialogue to "He/she/they call(s) your name." or "You hear your name in a broken voice as you swiftly turn, only to find no one there."

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏❤︎ MOTIVATION

• Motivation is hard and not every method works for me. Meaning, it probably won't work for everyone else either. What I do is: i write fics in my head before going to sleep. I listen to songs that remind me of the fic. I re-read feedback from previous fics. If you've not written one yet, the best move here is to discuss it with a trusted friend.

• do not allow numbers, notes, likes, anonymous messages, or any form of "popularity" force you to write something you're not in the mood to write. sometimes we just need a break, and it's okay to break promises. people want fics you loved writing, not the ones you suffered for to get through.

• IGNORE ENTITLEMENT. This will kill your motivation more than anything else imo, and it will fucking destroy your confidence.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏❤︎ HATE ON TUMBLR DOT COM

• first and foremost, block and ignore any and every hateful or entitled anonymous (or not) person in your inbox. I'm not joking, if you respond to them, you will have your friends defending you but at the end of the day, it does nothing but generate negativity and pity. I answer my hate from time to time too, but at the end of the day, it's more like a slap in the face to the hateful anons when you ignore them and continue to be happy. do not let them feel like they have power over your emotions or mood, even if they do. do NOT let them dictate what you want to write and do not be a people pleaser. you are doing enough already by making attempts to write. you don't owe anyone anything.

• relating to the last point, eventually you just grow numb to it. the bigger your blog grows, the more people will hate you for one reason or another. stay kind, try not to let it make you a miserable bitch like I was at one point. focus on the plethora of love you can and will receive.

• don't resent or send anons to other writers either. so what if their fic did more numbers? so what if they didn't follow you? so what? so what? being a writer on this site has a lot of down sides to it, and the writing community + all the shit that comes with it can really be exhausting. My best advice to you is to remember that this is tumblr. nothing more, nothing less. it's not the end of the world if someone dislikes you, and it's not the end of someone else's world if you dislike them. feeding into that energy ruins the entire environment for everyone.

That's all I have for now! Feel free to ask anything else, i'll do my best to answer and add it here! I am open to giving advice on designing and editing your banners btw, i'm not some bitch ass gatekeeper. i will go into more depth with all of this too, such as "how do i write a good synopsis?", "how do you know when your fic is finished?", or "how do i start the fic in a way that's interesting?" etc etc etc

[ghoulsbounty]

can you make a fic abt baby billy and like being one of his wives or like when he's on the run from tiff idrk depends on what you want to do

A Fall From Grace

Uncle Baby Billy Freeman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Baby Billy comes seeking comfort, and you are always willing to shoulder the burden.

Warnings: smut (18+), backshot, cum eating (kinda), p in v, alluding to an affair, mentions of religious beliefs relating to the show, angst, alcohol, smoking, emotional hurt/comfort, reader pining for baby billy, dejection.

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: Anon and anon, thank you for requesting that I write for this emotionally stunted baby man. I love him, I love the show, and the world needs Baby Billy fics! This is set before he is with Tiff (because I love her.) I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

You longed to utter the words, to express disbelief at finding yourself in this familiar game of cat and mouse once more. But honesty was a luxury you couldn't afford, not when your conscience was already weighed down by a litany of sins. Each lie added to the burden, and you couldn't bear to heap more upon your soul.

There was a time, not so long ago, you walked the path of life with a sense of purpose and righteousness. Like any devout believer, you diligently carried out God's will, spreading His word among the neighbours of Pumpkintown. But then, on a scorching summer's day, destiny led you through Freeman's Gap, where you found yourself standing at his doorstep. From that moment, everything changed.

Baby Billy, with his irresistible charm and captivating façade, swiftly drew you into his intricate web of deception. His presence cast a shadow over your once-virtuous existence, blurring the boundaries between right and wrong. In his company, your convictions faltered, and the very essence of your faith began to erode. Slowly but surely, he transformed you from a devout Christian into a mere echo of your former self.

No matter how many times you had promised yourself that this would be the last time, that you wouldn't let it happen again, it all amounted to more lies to add to the growing list. When he reappeared in your life after an eighteen-month absence, you were poised to slam the door shut in his face. But he possessed a silver tongue that could persuade the sun to set twice.

So here you were, pressed face down against the mattress, your skin glistening with sweat as he drove into you from behind. This was your preferred position; it prevented him from gazing at you with adoration, as if you were the centre of his universe, while he consumed every inch of your being. It made it easier to bear his departure after he was done with you, when he didn't linger. The ache in your chest always remained, but your time with Baby Billy had made you realize that you were nothing if not resilient.

Your gaze lingered on the half-empty bottle of gin perched on the bedside table. It was his customary offering, always referred to as your favourite. Whether it truly held that distinction was a matter of uncertainty, but you always accepted it. Flowers and chocolate might have softened the edges of your encounters with him, but they could never dull the sharp pang of inevitable loss you’d feel when he returned to whichever-number wife he was on.

"I'll accept the bottle, but not the intent," you would murmur each time he presented it, extending the gesture like an olive branch. His eyes would gleam with anticipation, tinged with a hint of apprehension, as he waited to be welcomed in. How many lies had you accumulated by now?

More than you cared to count. This self-proclaimed righteous man of God would lead you to the depths of hell itself if it meant avoiding solitude, and you would willingly follow. That was the truth.

"Haven't lost you now, have I?" His voice snapped you out of your trance, his hips grinding against your backside with a fervour that seemed desperate to anchor you to him.

Clutching the sheets tightly, your knuckles turned white as you shook your head. "I'm here, Baby Billy."

He chuckled, his hands gripping the flesh of your hips as he pulled back slightly before thrusting back in with force. Your walls tightened around him, drawing out the most obscene moans from his lips as he maintained an unfaltering rhythm.

"You're always here for Baby Billy," he remarked with a hint of satisfaction. "You're a good girl."

The words ignited a surge of conflicting emotions within you, sending sparks flying through your mind. Somewhere deep within, a wire seemed to short circuit, and you found yourself instinctively grinding your hips back against him, matching his movements.

"Damn," he sighed, his voice heavy with gratification, as one hand dropped to your front. His fingers traced along your wet folds until he found the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a high-pitched wail from your lips. "Well, if that ain't the prettiest thing I've ever heard."

His other hand released your hip, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you against his sticky chest. The new position drove him deeper, your head leaning back against his shoulder in the crook of his neck as he slowed to a heavy grind. His fingers continued their expert ministrations on your clit, tracing familiar circles, while his other hand left your hair to grab harshly at your breast, pinching your nipple just as he knew you liked.

"Let me see you now," he panted. You hadn't realized you'd squeezed your eyes shut until he slapped your clit with an open palm, causing you to flinch against him, and when you opened them, he was looking down at you with those hazel eyes that sucked you in every time. "There she is. Tell Baby Billy what you want from him."

He always did this, despite your attempts to bury your face into the mattress to hide from what you were doing with him. He always found a way to make you look at him, to confront your demons and tell him what you desired most from him. It was as if he couldn't let you come out of this unscathed, regardless of his claims that he needed you right there with him.

He didn't truly need you, not in the sense of wanting you for anything more than warming his cock and easing the burden of the life he had created for himself. You were a distraction from the suffering he had caused, never once caring for your own.

You wished you could refuse him. In every other aspect of your life, you were strong, but when it came to Baby Billy Freeman, your resolve wavered with just one look. Perhaps it was the underlying desperation he always seemed to exude, making you feel sorry for him, as if you were providing a service by temporarily alleviating his misery. Eventually, you stopped trying to make sense of it, allowing it to happen and taking from it what you wanted, what you needed.

"I want to cum," you breathed against the skin of his neck, then remembered what he always liked to hear. "Please, Baby Billy."

The familiar tightening in your stomach signalled your impending climax, and he seemed to sense it too, his movements growing more urgent as your walls fluttered around him, drawing him deeper with each thrust. His fingers worked faster against your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing against his as you cried out into the silence of the bedroom.

He grunted, continuing to thrust into you through your orgasm, your walls milking him as you pulsed around him. Your body went limp as the last surge of electricity shot through you, and he tossed you back onto the mattress to reach his own release. A few more thrusts, then you felt the tell-tale stutter of his hips before he withdrew completely, leaving your pussy feeling empty and used. The sound of your juices squelching around him filled the room as he used them to pleasure himself, pumping once, twice before finally cumming hard onto your ass with a shout of release.

You laid there, your sweaty face pressed against the sticky cotton sheet as you slowly grounded yourself back to reality. He panted above you, running a finger over the curves of your ass, scooping his release from you before bringing it to your mouth. You accepted it, your tongue swirling around his finger, lips closing around him as you sucked the salty mixture and swallowed it down. It was a habit he enjoyed, claiming that if he couldn't cum inside you, he at least wanted to ensure you received what he was giving in some way. It had become a routine you found yourself needing more than you cared to admit.

He withdrew his finger, delivering a sharp slap to your ass before rising from the bed. The mattress groaned with his movement, and you lay still as he carried out his next habitual task. Moments later, he returned, a lit cigarette between his lips and a wet cloth in his hand as he gently cleaned off the evidence of his release from your behind before tossing it onto the bedside table with a wet thwack. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaned over you with an arm resting on the mattress. You turned onto your back underneath him, running your fingers over his forearm as he looked down at you.

"Don't look at me like that," you said, tracing patterns through the hair on his arm.

"Like what, angel?" he asked, his voice tinged with amusement as he brought the cigarette to your lips. You took a drag before he reclaimed it, exhaling slowly as your eyes met his.

"Like you might love me," you whispered.

He chuckled, briefly glancing away before returning his gaze to you. "Maybe I do."

Once, you believed you loved him, back when you were still innocent to the manipulative games he played and your part in it all. But that belief didn't last long; you soon learned to shut it out, along with the company of men who weren't him.

"Right girl, wrong time," he had once told you, but you quickly learned that the right time would never come.

For Baby Billy, love wasn't in the equation. It soon became clear that he merely enjoyed the possession of you. You were like an old toy to him, tossed aside until he desired to play with you again. Your emotions, your needs, they were secondary to his whims, serving only to satisfy his fleeting desires.

Baby Billy Freeman didn't love you, he loved having you.

He would depart soon, leaving you with uncertainty about when you would see him again. Yet, deep down, you knew he would return. He always did, seeking refuge in your presence to distract himself from the harsh realities of his life. And you would be there for him, as you always were.

Because unfortunately, somewhere along the way of Baby Billy using you like a drug, you had become addicted yourself.

[cpvnksabm]

@ rtc fic writers

you really do have to research neuromuscular disabilities if ricky significantly appears in your fics. few to no exceptions. sorry.

ricky potts is important disability representation and, more specifically, he has a rare degenerative neuromuscular disease. this specific representation is important and therefore it's important to depict his neuromuscular disorder accurately. all disabilities are different and it's a huge problem when people, not understanding and/or not wanting to research neuromuscular disorders specifically, just give him any disability while erasing the one he canonically has, and think it's fine just because "well he's still disabled isn't he?".

i think canon (as in 2015-2018 scripts) is a good starting reference point for depicting ricky accurately because again, the specific disability he has in canon is important to represent. but canon also only seriously depicts him as disabled very briefly on-stage and spends most of the musical doing singing and dancing that he wouldn't be physically capable of if he was alive. if you're depicting ricky realistically for longer than canon does then you will have to do outside research to see how his disability would likely impact him, because you're definitely not getting a full picture from him using crutches for 2 minutes onstage.

i think sometimes people assume they don't have to worry about researching to write ricky, because they don't think he's a major enough character for his disability to become relevant - or, more upsettingly, i think sometimes people make ricky a more minor character so that his disability won't become relevant, because that way they don't have to do research.

unfortunately there's one big issue here, which is that if you haven't done the research, how can you know when his disability will be relevant?

ricky has a complex disability that would realistically affect his whole life in varying ways and what we see in canon is only a surface level view. let's say you're writing a fic where you don't need to bother researching for ricky because his only appearance is going out for lunch with the choir - did you know that neuromuscular disorders, especially ones that cause difficulty speaking or an inability to speak (which ricky has!), often cause difficulty swallowing? this would affect his diet and in fact potentially imply that he uses a feeding tube (which is also implied by one of ocean's lines in WTWN), making it very relevant when getting lunch with the choir!

of course that lunch idea is just a hypothetical example, and it's just one example. what i'm saying here is that there are many activities that seem simple, that you wouldn't even think twice about in relation to ricky, that would realistically be complicated by his disability.

of course not every fic has to tackle disability in detail, or even has time to do so, but it's noticeable when something happens where ricky's disability would impact him and it just isn't mentioned. it's something that can accidentally slide into disability erasure, which is a problem, and it also just makes it really obvious when the writer wasn't aware of something or didn't think very hard about it. heck this post is mainly directed at fic writers but i've even seen headcanon posts where it's been obvious the OP needed to do a little more research.

so basically, when i say you need to research to write ricky accurately & understand his disability, i don't just mean that if you're planning on writing a fic that significantly involves his disability you should research for that fic specifically. i think that you should do some basic research before you plan on writing anything, just to make sure you understand his disability when you're active in the fandom. and then if his disability becomes more relevant in a fic - which you will be able to recognise due to the basic research you've already done - you can do more research as needed.

besides, even if it turns out you never write anything where this is relevant, there's no harm in learning more about neuromuscular disease and disability in general! it might become useful information in real life at some point, or it might just be good to know.

[starstruckkittensweets]

puppy love

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

My latest fixation, Chuuya with puppies! My precious boy deserves to be happy with a doggy of his own, so I decided to play into this little fantasy of mine (and his, probably). I'm planning on writing more parts to this lil series, I think it's helping me get out of my writing slump. Also parts of this fic are inspired by Shiloh, one of my all-time favorite books (so much nostalgia...) and a bit of a reference to that one puppy episode from Wan. And the panel I used for the banner is from the BSD manga (I think it's ch. 24) I hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of stray animals, Reader cries but it's in relief, mostly fluff, pet names (mostly "doll" but used only once in this part), the start of a slow burn perhaps? || words: 2k

Part I | Part II | Part III

He’s halfway through his usual trek home, muscles burning and head pounding from another successful night’s mission, when he realizes he has a shadow.

Chuuya doesn’t let up his pace; stay calm, don’t give anything away—but he has to wonder, who could be this stupid to try to follow a mafia executive? And they’re not being subtle about it either. Making no effort to conceal their breaths or their footsteps—

Wait a minute…that sounds too light to be footsteps…

He sucks in a breath and turns around to face the culprit. Hands clenched into fists at his sides, preparing for a fight—

“Woof!”

Staring up at him is perhaps one of the cutest fucking dogs he’s ever laid eyes on. (Not that he’s seen many dogs, but the point still stands.) Pointy ears, fuzzy orange fur, white paws and a belly that definitely looks too plump for a street dog.

He stares at it. The dog stares back, pink tongue lolling out the side of its mouth.

“…Woof!”

It takes every ounce of strength he can muster not to melt right then and there on the sidewalk. A thousand squeals on the tip of his tongue, gloved hands itching to scratch under that fuzzy little chin of his.

Never mind any dog hair, fuck that. Who’s gonna try to turn their nose up at this little cutie?

Chuuya briefly scans the area—not a soul in sight, just him and his companion beneath the lamplights—before dropping to his knees. The dog paws at the ground, his curly tail swishing madly in the air.

“C’mere boy,” he keeps his voice soft, holding out a hand. But the dog doesn’t budge. He just stares at him with that big dumb smile of his.

That really adorable dumb smile.

He tries again. The dog tilts his head and refuses to move. So Chuuya tries another tactic: “C’mere, girl?”

Still doesn’t move a muscle. Although now the dog looks amused as he paces from side to side, just out of Chuuya’s reach.

Yeah, gotta be a boy with that kind of attitude.

Chuuya sighs before pushing himself off the ground. Ah well, guess he’s too nervous to approach humans. Can’t really blame him for that; this city’s got its fair share of unpleasant people. He deals with them all the time, so he can kinda relate.

He shoves his hands back into his pockets (try not to think about how soft the dog’s fur must be) and turns on his heel to head home. It’s getting late anyway, and he’s got to get an early start tomorrow morning. He can’t be spending all night moping around some stray puppy following him around.

Even if he is the cutest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

But he only gets a few steps in before hearing the unmistakable click-click of the dog’s nails against the pavement. He stops, the dog stops too. He glances over his shoulder, biting back a smile at the dog’s happy face.

“What do you want, huh? I don’t have any food, so if that’s what you’re looking for…”

Not that he looks like he needs any treats to begin with. He’s seen a few of the dogs roaming around Yokohama, all skin and bones as they pick through tipped-over trash cans. And the stray cats are no better, ears flat against their skulls as they hiss and claw at everything in sight.

So why does this dog look so fucking proud of himself?

Chuuya sighs and whistles to himself—and suddenly the dog comes running.

Two dirty paws plant themselves on his dress pants, that’ll surely be hard to get out, but how can he get angry when the dog’s trying so hard to reach his face? He chuckles under his breath as he kneels down to his level, as the dog plants kiss after kiss on his face with his slobbery tongue.

“Who knew all it took was a whistle?” he says more to himself than to the pup. The dog’s tail is wagging so hard he thinks it’ll fall off, the tiny little thing that it is.

He slides one of his gloves off, letting the dog sniff his hand before scratching him behind the ears. He was right, his fur is so soft… And his smile only gets bigger when the dog licks him again, not even minding all the drool.

But then he stiffens, slipping his fingers through the dog’s fur, noticing a red band of leather fastened around his neck. A collar? No way he’s someone’s pet. Then again, he does look a little too spoiled to be wandering the streets for food.

He curls his finger around the golden tag dangling from the buckle. No name, only an address he thinks he recognizes. Right on the edge of Yokohama, where the scent of sea salt is the strongest. Is it someone’s house? Apartment? Maybe a  shelter of some kind?

Chuuya steals another look at the dog, at those sweet brown eyes and twitching wet nose, trying his best to ignore the icy clench of his stomach. Maybe it’s for the best, just to bring him back. What’s he gonna do with a dog, anyway? Not like his job allows for much time raising a puppy, anyway.

Even one so cute as this little guy.

“Alright,” he sighs, scooping the pup in his arms, “let’s get you home.” He tries not to dwell on how warm the puppy is, or how softly he nestles his face in the crook of his shoulder.

And definitely not the way he can feel the pup drifting off to sleep as he starts down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Gentle puffs against his skin, his curly tail twitching against his wrist.

“Kotaro! There you are!”

The engraving on the pup’s collar has led him to a tiny little shop a few minutes from the port. A bit shabby with a torn sign on the top and windows that have definitely seen better days, and he’s about to turn tail (no pun intended) until he sees someone nearly fly out through the set of double doors.

“Kotaro!” Your voice is strained, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sweep the puppy into your arms. Clutching him as tight as you can, smoothing down the fur on his head as he stirs awake from his little nap. “I was worried sick… How did you escape again?! I could’ve sworn I locked the doors… You’re just lucky I came back downstairs when I did—or else you would’ve been out there all night long!”

The puppy only wags his tail, staring up at you with those silly eyes and sweet little “smile.” He knows it’s your weakness, how could you be angry at a face like that?

Oh, well. As long as he’s safe, you can’t really hold a grudge against him. Not when he’s back in your arms, safe and sound, and it’s just the two of you, just as it always should be.

It’s only when you hear someone clear their throat that you realize you’re actually not alone. You hastily wipe your eyes with the back of your hand—it’s a little difficult with a nearly-twenty-pound dog in your arms—and stare up at the man before you. Kotaro’s savior, your savior. And suddenly you feel a fresh wave of tears surge forth.

“Thank you for bringing him back! I’m so sorry if he’s caused you any trouble, I know he has a habit of bothering people when he sneaks out—I thought I’d kept him inside this time! He just has a thing for running away like the little troublemaker he is. He’s still young, hopefully he’ll grow out of it when he’s older, maybe he’ll mellow out and settle down, and then…”

You bite your tongue and avert your eyes. No need to scare off the stranger with your incessant rambling, especially after he was so nice to bring Kotaro back to you. But he only shakes his head, a soft smile on his lips as he tips his hat over his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, he didn’t cause too much trouble.” He lifts a hand, allowing Kotaro to sniff him before scratching the fur beneath his chin. “Keep an eye on him, though. You don’t want him getting lost out there, especially this time of night.”

“I know… I swear, he’s gonna give me gray hairs before the end of the year. The other dogs aren’t even this mischievous, I don’t know where he got it from!”

Wait, other dogs?

He glances over your shoulder, towards the dingy windows of the shop. Pet supplies and part-time shelter, the sign plastered on the glass says. And sure enough, the closer he looks at your outfit, he can see little bits of dog fur clinging to the fabric—some gray, some brown, some white, and then a hint of orange thanks to Kotaro.

Just how many dogs do you have in there?

“Anyway, I just wanna say I really appreciate you bringing him back here. You didn’t have to, I know you’re probably busy. Let me just run inside and get my wallet, I think I have some left over if you want—”

But he’s quick to shut you down with a shake of his head, even a wave of his hands for emphasis. No money, he’s already got plenty of that to spare. And besides, it doesn’t sit right with him, paying him for something that should come naturally to any decent person.

And he doesn’t want to sound mean, but judging from the shape of that little shop of yours, you look like you can use every last cent you have.

“Oh, if you say so… But still, why don’t I make it up to you sometime?”

An uneasy silence settles in the air between you; Chuuya blinks as he watches you shift your weight, partially hiding your face in Kotaro’s fur.

“…I mean, you don’t have to—I just wanna pay you back some way! Maybe I can treat you to lunch one of these days? I don’t have many days off, but I can make it work! Or maybe…do you have a dog of your own? I can give you a discount on anything in the shop!” You throw an arm out to the double doors behind you, still holding Kotaro to your chest. “Name it and it’s yours! I really don’t mind, it’s just me here anyway. Well, me and the dogs, all nine of us.”

Wait, nine, including yourself…

“You have eight of them?!”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat at the look on Chuuya’s face. He reminds you of a child on Christmas morning, staring at the presents strewn around the glowing tree. He doesn’t seem one to enjoy the company of dogs, given his fancy attire and confident aura.

And yet, he still brought Kotaro back home, when he could’ve easily turned and walked the other way. You’ve learned not to judge a book by its cover, after all.

“Eight dogs, and hopefully more by the end of the year.” Your cheeks grow warm beneath his startling blue gaze. (His eyes are really pretty up close, aren’t they?) “…I can tell you all about them on our lunch date, if you’re interested.”

He blinks, eyes flitting back and forth between you and the dog in your arms. You’ve got guts, he’ll give you that; he can see it in the way you talk to him, the way you hold the puppy in your arms. Gentle as ever, but a fire brimming in your eyes. You love this dog, no doubt about it.

And you’ve got seven more inside? Do you love them all the same amount?

What breeds are they? How did you come to adopt so many dogs at once? Or did you adopt them at once, or sporadically over the years?

So many questions, and yet the night is crawling by. He shakes his head again, giving Kotaro one last scratch behind the ears, before meeting your gaze once more.

“Lunch sounds perfect, doll.”

Your lips pull up in a smile, and he can’t help but notice how it nearly matches the one on Kotaro’s face. Bright and eager, melting under the attention of the ones around you.

And yet your smile is infinitely prettier, and he finds himself thinking about it as he starts the familiar journey back home, as the night hours slowly tick by.

[whomstdosthouthinkiis]

my two cents on Horikoshi's end notes, and the fandom moving forward.

I know that other bakudekus and myself are #Going Through It™️and we want to be able to wash our hands of an ending we don't feel gives us emotional closure, especially when it comes to Kacchan's arc and their relationship. (I vacillate between seeing it as bittersweet with tints of hope and heartrendingly depressing and an absolute gut punch)

But I feel like a lot of us are jumping to conclusions and conspiracies way too quickly. When Hori says "he's turning off the camera and releasing them from their dramas" he's saying that he's not going to put them through another story. "their dramas" being the trials and tribulation and arcs that they went through over the course of the series, he's letting them off the hook and won't be putting another arc in the story. And, though he may refer to himself as the camera man, turning off the camera is just kinda a normal phrase to mean that the story is over, what ever happens now is up to our imaginations.

Now, I get why we are upset by this, ignoring canon wasn't how we got to be bakudeku shippers. Almost until the very end with very few hiccups, Kacchan and Deku's relationship was the most impactful and compelling one in the series, it grew and changed and blossomed in ways that only made the emotional resonance and investment stronger. They were each others most important person, to the point of insane unhinged acts of devotion, and their relationship was the driver of most of the stories major themes. it's not hard to see the appeal, even without shipper goggles (I legitimately only read the manga for the last 2 years when something bakugo or bakudeku related happened, that's how much this part of the story compelled me)

So, it really sucks to feel like we've been let down, when it felt like we had already made it to the end. I know I will always cherish those 5 months of canon compliant fluffy bakudeku fics and fanart after the first ending. It really felt like we had won in a way.

It sucks that now the last piece of canon we have is giving ammo to people who wish to belittle, hate, and judge us for our investment in, and interpretation of, these characters and this story. And, that all subsequent fan works will be colored by this development of the story, in a way that definitely shifts it in more angsty tragic direction. that this is the final note we leave off on sucks, even if we chose to ignore it, because not everyone will.

That sucks.

BUT, we can still ignore it.

We don't need it to not really be canon.

We don't need Horikoshi's permission to ship them, even now.

We have 400+ chapters of manga, side stories, anime, music, canon content that supports the bond and relationship that we love and hold dear, so much material to continue to interpret, and remix, and adapt, and transform from. so many moments, big and small, that can't be taken away by one chapter.

I know endings tend to re-contextualize things, but we can imagine a timeline that's different, that we like better or think is more compelling, or more fun, or just different. we can imagine 100 different timelines, all diverging from different points, filling in different gaps, and making new paths forward.

I know we're all coping, that our hearts are hurting, but I also see so much strength, and resilience, and creative energy, and love.

The cameras aren't rolling anymore.

Now, WE get to decide what the future for these characters will bring.

And I know we'll give them many many good ones

[blackkatmagic]

Hello! I've been binging your fics and I'm blown away by how you manage to craft these long stories that are both plotty and character driven! Every time I try my hand at writing I get so overwhelmed by all the details and get bogged down by some entangled plot thread that I just give up... How do you plan out these amazing longfics and keep up an update schedule for multiple fics at the same time? Do you make a plot outline and keep a canon reference on hand when writing? I'd love to hear about your process!

For me, not getting overwhelmed by details comes down to having a mostly-clear idea of what plot beats I want to hit, even if I don't know the exact beats themselves. I don't outline, because it makes my brain feel as if I've already written the fic and then I lose motivation, but I'll usually throw together a bullet-point list of spots I want the plot to go. I try to keep them vague - "thing that makes Jon confront his parental trauma here" or "event that makes Wolffe rely in Feral here" sorts of things - but all in service of the overall theme/direction of the story.

Everything that happens should be directly related to the overall plot, either in shaping the character relationships or shaping events. I know Tumblr likes to scream about how people need to bring back filler, but if you're not careful, and if you don't keep that filler tailored to show character growth/relationship growth, it turns into stray plot threads and bogs things down. If it's a side tangent, remove it and put it in a side fic - focus the main one on what's happening to your characters, and how those characters are shaping the plot.

I'm prone to adding too many subplots to things, personally, and I always want to explore more parts of a story or more characters. The best way to corral that impulse is to make sure all of those threads tie back into the main plot before the end, or help solve a problem in the main plot. As long as you're writing with that in mind, it makes stray threads less likely, and you can fix moments where you've written yourself into a corner by pulling on those threads.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Primal

I was thinking one where Janus believes the others have only excepted him/like him as his function of self preservation not as Janus the person? And because of that belief he is failing to care for himself as he needs. Pushing to do more for the others and masking his own feeling untill he can't anymore and the others take care of him and assure him that is not the case? Bonus for Janus having chronic issues either snake related or other. – ultrageekygirl

Had the thought of neurodevelopmental disorders showing up in the sides as physical disorders or disability. A side trying to hide a flare-up or otherwise bad day believing they wouldn't be helped, only to be found and promptly (affectionately) smothered? – diamond-blade

hi! i love your fics!♥️ my fav is the wings one and it got me thinking and search and i found that you already did one with naga janus (didn't read it yet. but i will!♥️), but i think naga janus is awesome. could you do something do with him? like a protective parent with his adoptive only child Virgil? make some drama, like They lose Virgil or Remus doing some usual bullshit or the light sides do something and get scolded or something of your liking. just please make Janus a Naga. i need my snake boi to be snake. – anon

Writing prompt if you're accepting them!: one of the sides for some reason grows up thinking he doesn't have or doesn't deserve a human name? Maybe Virgil would work best. ^-^ – anon

Random idea I just had, you can do what you will with it: something in the style of your Green Kitty Cat, where Janus is campaigning heavily for lying in a situation where that would clearly just make it worse, and Thomas ends up having a Talk with him about how he's thankful Janus is looking out for him, and it's okay to be scared, he gets it, but they're going to be Okay. <3. – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3836

There are differences between the Light Sides and The Dark Sides, but they aren't as…black and white as they seem. For one, there's no abject morality—if you'll forgive the wordplay—to being on one side or the other. Fear can just as easily be a key component of survival, as can Doubt, as can they be things that hinder you or hold you back. There is nothing keeping the two factions apart from that perspective, and so we must examine things a little more closely.

Namely, at the root of their core concepts.

Fear, as many will tell you, is primal. As is Self-Preservation, as is what is commonly referred to as Thought. Those who would tell you that there are different types of Thought would be willing to Split them, hence the two Sides of Creativity. But one of those is far more conscious than the other, is it not? Oh, obviously there are parts of Fantasy and Romance that cannot be so easily corralled or called upon as other Thoughts, but there are those and then there are the ones that drift around and careen into each other solely unbidden.

So. What do we do, when we are young and still learning how our minds work, but associate those things that are far more primal with animals?

Lies. Deceit. Doubt. Selfishness. A young Side waking one morning with a deafening scream trapped in his throat when he's greeted not to the soft comforts of his bedsheets, but instead the rippling coils of a massive snake. He thrashes, trying to get away from the terrifying creature, only for the coils to slip over and over and over until he realizes that it's him.

A child, shaking and shivering in the sudden cold of his room, his remaining human-like limbs growing sore as he tries to wrestle his uncooperative snake tail into some semblance of comfort. Growing at the speed of Thought, learning how to use his transformation abilities himself, learning how to care for the scales that grow up one side of his body, learning how to manage his internal temperature by wearing layers and layers to keep himself warm by force. A Side coming into his own with a silver tongue and golden eyes, learning how to hide the parts of him that he would rather the world not see.

Humans learn things at different rates. Lying comes easily after you've done it so many times, but we can never truly master what it is to be afraid. It makes sense, after all, we are not meant to immerse ourselves in Fear. It's a built-in alarm system, designed to make us flee from danger and get somewhere safe. And so, is it any wonder that Fear would take longer to grow into itself?

Janus has two little ones with him in the Dark. The first, another child that shivered in the cold and whispered about what could be hiding in the shadows with him, clutching onto his sleeve and trying to warn him about what might be lurking around the corner. This one stayed a child for a long time—but what else could Fear do as it tried to figure itself out? The unknown is terrifying, after all, and who could begrudge a child comfort? It made sense to be little for so long, it was a far simpler way to feel safe. But we learn, at our own pace, how to manage our fears, how to live with them, how to name them.

If only it was so simple a process for Fear itself.

Janus spends many nights soothing the little bundle with cuddles and warm blankets, whispering that it was alright, finding your own shape takes time, but you should still figure it out because it was you, and there was nothing better to be than yourself. Fear resisted for a long time, arguing that he wasn't something good, he shouldn't be himself, he shouldn't be named. It grew worse when thick furry legs began to appear on his sides, crawling and twitching of their own free will. Janus would pull the spider child into the warmth of a heat lamp and massage his pained limbs, trying to calm him down just enough that he wouldn't smack himself in the face with them.

It's alright, he would whisper, letting his tail wrap around the two of them, it's alright, it's only me, it's only you. There's nothing wrong with either of us, see?

But Fear could be stubborn, as young children are wont to do. I don't deserve a name. I'm bad, I'm not supposed to exist!

Fear keeps us alive. How else would I know what to do? You tell me everything, you tell me how best to keep us safe, what is more important than that? Janus runs his hands over the limbs, teaching him how to feel them, how to accept them, and more importantly, how to hide them when he needed to. It's up to you to control it, it's a part of you. You can do it.

Slowly, Fear learns. Fear becomes Virgil, spider legs hidden under massive baggy hoodies and sweatpants, curling up around Janus to keep warm and keep safe.

The other child takes much longer to even settle on a form to begin with. Thought races around with all the malevolent glee of a sprite, upsetting things and causing chaos and leaving the echoes of gleeful cackles wherever it goes. But something ephemeral cannot be held, cannot be comforted, cannot cause a certain type of chaos, and so a blob of a child forms with its skin pulsating and roiling with all the madness of a storm at sea. Janus would curl his tail around the blob, feeling it thrash against the confines until it settled into something more tangible. A child with black tentacles, with a bright streak of white in his hair, a manic grin on his face. Remus, the one who darted about with all the subtlety of a hurricane and left just as much carnage in his wake.

Thoughts are meant to be together. When Remus discovers that half of him is missing, he screams.

Shh, shh, Janus hushes, pulling him and Virgil into a cuddle in the warmth, don't fret, don't fret, there's nothing wrong with you.

He's gone, Remus wails, lamenting the loss of a brother he'd never truly gotten to know, he left me, he left me all alone!

Then that's his loss. You are worth just as much on your own, we would not trade you or bargain you away for anything. You are ours, just as we are yours.

I can't stop them, Remus sobs, hands hooking into claws only for Janus to tut and use two more hands to pull them away from his face, I can't control them, I can't—I can't do anything right!

You can be yourself. You can be yourself because it is the best thing you can ever be. You can learn to harness the energy, put it where it needs to go. Control it, use it, it's yours.

They grow. They learn. They control their more animalistic traits and by the time they are all round about the same age, they can hide them completely.

***

When Thomas learns of his Sides, there isn't a way to differentiate between Light and Dark. After all, Roman hasn't come up with the name yet, and he isn't aware that Janus and Remus exist yet. Or rather: Deceit keeps things hidden and Thomas still believes he has one Creativity.

At first, he worries. Virgil is by far the most sensitive about his status as a Side, but he could no more keep Thomas's Fear from him than he could eliminate it entirely, and so…Virgil it is. His little spider has developed quite the sharp tongue over years of dealing with him and Remus, and so he watches with no small amount of glee as Virgil holds his own against Logic, Morality, even Creativity. Certainly, watching Roman puff up like a proud peacock ready to be plucked—he blames Remus for that one entirely—is reward enough on its own. But there's a reason Fear is present in these conversations as Thomas tries to work through his issues, and more often than not, it's to be put back in its place. No one handle being cut down to size over and over and over with no respite.

He lets Virgil snuggle up to him in the warmth whenever he needs to. Strokes his hair and whispers that it's alright, still, he has his place, he's still useful to Thomas even when it feels like he isn't. His chest clenches when Virgil confesses his childhood worry that this would all be better if he wasn't here, that it might just make more sense for him to duck out. Nothing has him as terrified as when Virgil actually does it, not since he woke up twisted in his own tail. He hammers on Virgil's door, calling for him, trying with Remus to break it down when they don't get anywhere.

But then the Light Sides show up. With Thomas. And everyone can breathe again.

Virgil becomes…well, not a Light Side, but he becomes one of them. He shows up to their meetings, he helps them with their issues, and he…starts to join them. For things like dinners, movie nights, things that aren't about helping Thomas, but just about them as the Sides. Remus doesn't take it well at first, screaming that Virgil's leaving them just like Roman did, but Virgil points out that it wasn't Roman's fault they were never together in the first place, and, well, things don't go well.

Virgil leaves, because he can go to the others now. They understand that Fear is necessary sometimes, and so they let Virgil be around them. For Janus and Remus, well, they have always been at home in the shadows, and so Janus curls his tail around Remus's thrashing form and whispers that they'll be okay.

You're safe, little Kraken. It's okay. It's all going to be okay.

How is it going to be okay? They're never going to accept us! They hate us!

They don't know we exist, sweetie, that's not the same thing.

Why? Why can't we show them who we are?

And Janus, who has spent years managing the cold and the pain that comes from being half snake, just holds him tighter. It took them this long to realize that Fear is useful. I don't…I don't know how long it will take for us.

Remus perks up. But we can try?

But we can try.

Janus does try, for Remus's sake, because he can see how much Remus misses not one but two brothers, but if he doesn't give it 'the old college try,' Remus doesn't need to know about it. The longer it goes on, the more he resolves not to tell Remus the truth about what exactly goes on at the meetings, not when he sees how the others actually treat Roman.

He's heard enough of Remus griping that his brother's probably the more beloved one since they were old enough to have such sibling rivalry, but he hadn't truly put it together why Virgil stopped weighing in on those after he started regularly seeing them. It wasn't because Virgil was growing to prefer Roman, as he and Remus had feared, but instead because it simply wasn't true.

Roman was…treated badly, to put it mildly. Roman was treated like a work horse. An idea factory. A convenient excuse when things went wrong and a shiny accessory when things went right. He was so willing to listen to a kind word or a touch of praise that it made his initial foray as Patton the easiest trick he'd pulled in decades. And even when the masquerade had been revealed and Thomas learned of his existence, Roman was still there accepting his sarcastic compliments as though they were real.

He tells Remus his brother doesn't miss him. It's the first time he's not sure who he's lying for.

Things get worse before they get better. Far worse. Worse enough that he's not sure if any of them will actually recover from it, not when Thomas is closer to a genuine breakdown than he's ever seen, not when Patton is shaking and shivering from turning into a giant frog, not when Roman sinks out and a genuine stab of Fear makes him think they might just have One Creativity after all, worse enough that for the first time in years, his control over his snake form trembles.

Roman falls apart. He locks himself in his room and refuses to let anyone in. Not for the first time, Janus wonders if he's done more harm than good, lancing open the wound to purge the infection, but at the cost of causing Roman pain. He doesn't regret what he's done, not when it's gotten Thomas to take a good look at himself, not when it's begun to bridge the gap between Light and Dark, but poor Roman is the lynch pin to be sacrificed for the greater good.

The heroic sacrifice that he's sure the Prince would be happy to make, but he hadn't made the choice himself.

He worries that Roman might be alienated entirely. After all, he's no longer being useful. He's drowning, spiraling, drifting further and further away from anything that could possibly be productive, and none of the others know how to reach him.

Then Remus smashes through his door with a Morningstar and tackles his brother into a bear hug.

Janus watches, spellbound, as the others converge on Roman, wrapping him in their arms and whispering comforts. A foreign sight, a familiar sight, except they aren't saying the things they should be. They're not offering encouragement, ways out of the Dark, they're telling Roman how much they love him. How much he's important to them not as Creativity, but as Roman. Remus vows never to let his brother forget how much he loves him and Janus can only blink in surprise—last they spoke, Remus hated Roman, how did it come to this? How much has he missed?

He's missed a lot, it seems, as he watches Virgil be just as active a participant in comforting Roman as the others. He watches Logan and Patton pull Remus into their group hug without a second thought. He watches Roman's tearful face go from scared to relieved over the course of that hug, watches him relax into the embrace and drift off into an exhausted sleep. He feels a twinge of pain in his scales and forces a smile to his face, teasing the little prince ever so gently before sitting on the edge of the hug.

That must be another difference between Light and Dark, then. The Lights are more than just their functions to each other.

***

Thomas is…confused, to say the least. At least he's not alone. The others are also staring at Janus like he's just sprouted another head. Granted, that's slightly more Remus's territory than his, but Thomas wouldn't put it past him.

"What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you're suggesting we do something really, really stupid?"

"We've already vetoed Remus's ideas, actually."

"First off, ouch," Remus grumbles from Roman's side, "and second, you know damn well that's not what we're talking about."

Janus scoffs, crossing his arms and examining his gloves. "I really don't know what you all are so ticked off about."

Logan takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Janus, we've been over this. There is no point to lying about why we are attending this art show. We gain nothing by deceiving our friends."

"And we gain nothing by having them figure out where we are actually going and guessing that we're getting them a present that they specifically told us they do not expect."

"Yeah, which means it'll be a nice surprise!"

"Patton's right—" and wow, Thomas never thought he'd hear Remus say that, and judging by Patton's expression, neither did he— "besides, you know how important trust is to Addie, we can't just lie to them and expect it to be fine!"

"What they don't know won't hurt them."

"Okay, now you're not even trying—"

"J, I swear to God—"

"That's not true and you know it—"

"Temper, temper," Janus drawls, raising his hands like he's some overdramatic villain about to be executed, "aren't we all a little uppity today?"

"What the fuck is going on, J?" It says something that Patton doesn't call Virgil out on his language. "You've been pushing this sort of thing for weeks now. What's wrong?"

"Why would you believe something's wrong?"

"You've been trying to get us to make decisions that are objectively worse for us, despite your role as Self-Preservation," Logan lists, a furrow to his brow too, "you've been antagonizing us significantly more than usual, and you've been avoiding us outside of the meetings."

Thomas blinks. That's new. Sure, even he knows Janus isn't the most social of Sides, but missing things like their movie nights? The one time where all of them agree to be civil and get along for one evening? Yeah, no, something is wrong.

"—think you're all overreacting."

"We're not overreacting, buddy, we're worried."

"Same thing."

"It is not. You are clearly upset about something—"

"Oh, well, if you believe I'm upset—"

"That's not what he meant, kiddo, and you know it."

"Guys," Roman says, "I don't think trying to do it like this is gonna work."

"You should listen to Roman," Janus says, and Thomas winces at how sharp it's become, "you'd think you'd have gotten better about that."

Roman flinches, Remus glares at Janus, and Thomas gets it.

"Janus?"

"Yes, Thomas?"

"It's okay to be scared. We are too. But trying to push people away isn't going to work."

Janus freezes. Full deer-in-headlights. Distantly, he hears Remus and Virgil make noises of realization.

"It's hard, right? Trying to figure out how to manage it? But it doesn't have to come at the price of us being happy around people. We don't have to hide everything."

"Of course we do," he hisses, and it actually does come out as a hiss, which—he admittedly didn't see coming, "haven't you learned that by now, Thomas? People aren't kind about things like this."

"Like what?"

Janus stumbles, as though he hadn't meant to say that. On one side, Remus wraps an arm—oh, shit, that's very much not an arm. That's not an arm, that's a tentacle. That's definitely a tentacle. In hindsight, it's probably obvious that Remus had tentacles or was capable of having tentacles, but still.

"You're an idiot," Virgil huffs, but it sounds more affectionate than anything else, "you haven't let yourself shift since you started coming to movie nights, have you?"

"Excuse me for being polite," he bites out and Remus flicks his ear.

"You can just say you didn't feel comfortable doing it."

"It's private!"

"It's hurting you."

"Whoa, wait, what?" Patton steps forward. "Janus, you're hurting?"

"They're being dramatic, I'm fine. I'm—oh, for crying out loud—"

Remus had wrapped his arms around Janus's waist and squeezed tightly, just as Virgil comes up to his other side. "Sheesh, Snakey, you're freezing. Why didn't you tell me your heat lamp was out of batteries?"

"It wasn't important!"

"Of course it's important, it keeps you warm."

"Janus," Logan asks gently, and even Thomas gets a lump in his throat, "why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"

"Yeah, isn't that like, your thing?"

Janus looks around and seems to realize that he's not getting out of this anytime soon and huffs. "You don't keep me around for that, you keep me around because I'm useful."

"I feel like we went over this," Roman teases, going to wrap his arms around Janus too. Thomas chuckles at the muffled how are you so warm? "You're not an exception to that rule either."

"Thomas?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna join us for movie night?"

"Sure."

"Wait," Janus mumbles, flailing a little in the twins' grip. "What about—we need to decide—"

"Oh, we have time," Thomas grins, sitting down and watching Janus get man-handled into sitting too, "and you need to warm up first."

Janus lets out an affronted huff but lets himself be cuddled on the couch. He glances at Remus, who nods—they'll have a talk about Janus later, he's sure, but for right now, he settles back and watches Logan and Roman fuss over the movie selection.

***

"Hey," he whispers when the other Sides are asleep, "is everything okay? Really?"

Janus looks at him, and for a moment, he looks like a lost child. "Are you sure I'm…okay? Really?"

Thomas grins, opens his arms, and pulls him close. "Promise."

He feels a cold snake tail wrap around him in the dark and kisses Janus's forehead.

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[riggedbones]

ok now that chapter 2 of my fic is out I can finally share nearly everything consequence related I've been drawing over the last two months. so let's start with my design process!

it's probably pretty obvious, but I wanted consequence's design to pretty closely mirror loop's. I don't want to go into all of the reasoning behind what I decided to keep similar and what I decided should be distinct (some of it is spoilers for my fic), but generally I kept a lot of the more general design elements that seem to be a result of whatever the fuck wish craft did to make loop Like That. loop is naked? consequence is naked. loop has an objecthead? consequence has an objecthead. loop has a shape on their chest? consequence has a shape on its chest.

this all being said, I did also want to make sure that consequence was distinct. of course. my initial focus was pretty resolutely on the objecthead, as you can see in my first page of concept sketches, but I did explore some other elements early on as well!

you can also see my first concept sketch for odile's death screen, and just a smidge for the looping animation that is something i might also animate for a chapter, who knows.

more drawings and discussion under the cut, i'm realizing this is getting a bit long.

i had the node object head concept on that first page, but it was definitely something that needed iteration. which is where this page came in. i settled on the diamond shaped geode at around this point too, but was still struggling a tad on what to do with the general body texture. this was also, clearly, WAY too many squares. my beta kris told me as much.

i may be an animator but by god i love making my designs as animation unfriendly as possible sometimes. still wouldn't call consequence animation friendly at all, but i've done a lot since to cut back on the sheer volume of squares.

this was my second pass in an attempt to cut down on the complexity, still way too many squares, but this is when i started drawing the head as a foreground later of nodes with a more abstract cloud of squares behind. for the most part, just shading behind the foreground layer is still how i draw the head traditionally.

aaand then i started playing around digitally and i realized i did not like how that looked digitally. these are both doodles i did via mouse (for the second one i traced an odile sprite to help with proportions), so they're a bit looser in general, but this exercise generally let me know that i needed to slightly rethink how i was going to express the idea digitally.

because this, the final talksprite design i landed on, looks more complicated, but between the smaller amount of foreground squares and the fact that the ones in the background were just made with the rectangle tool, it's honestly not that bad. a pain to replicate? sure! but id5 reused loop's head shape for all of their art in the game, so i can do that too.

i think i solidified the idea of its body having strata before the talksprite (not sure which doodles that would be), but doing the talksprite really helped solidify the idea of a gradient in my mind, and also is where i decided on the textural element. i also decided to look at a reference image for the geode. that helped a Lot.

...i still do like drawing a more simplified consequence though. the key in my eyes is to just get the general shape of the head down, make sure you get a few of the squares floating in the air, and emphasize the nodes around its eyes. also make sure the eyes are offset vertically, it REALLY helps with the character of the design, sometimes i'll doodle a connie quence and think it looks a bit mid, move the eye on its left up, and then boom it's fine.

or you can just not do that because you drew it 2 crumbs big lol

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

One massive difference between the western vs JP TWST fandoms that I haven't seen anyone else talk about is that the Japanese fandom seems to dwell in "grimdark" territory while the western one tries to see the best in these characters. From my glimpses into the Japanese fandom, they seem to see these character's darkness as the main appeal. That's reflected in their fanworks, since yandere works or things that dive into their dark sides are more popular there. While there is plenty of yandere content in the west, it seems more like a niche than the most popular way to portray the characters in fics where as in Japan that seems to be the norm on Pixiv. The JP seem to LOVE their grim dark fan theories WAY more than the western one. The western fandom seems like the opposite. Works seeing their humanity, them being decent partners, etc is the norm. Thought?

“I can fix him” vs “I can make him worse”—

Mmm, I have many thoughts on this but before I get into them I want to clarify some things. This is so everyone reading is running with the same definitions and thus can better understand (and perhaps contribute to) the discussion.

Firstly, “grimdark” can refer to any and all materials which people may find disturbing, amoral, and/or violent. Grimdark is NOT just yandere content. Although yandere content is an example of grimdark, not all grimdark is yandere.

Secondly, I want to dispel the notion that “grimdark” and “seeing the best in the characters” are opposites. They are actually not mutually exclusive; it is entirely possible to have the two overlap. For example, it is common for assassins to be after Kalim’s life (which is dark). However, Kalim himself is very cheery despite being cognizant of this (which is not dark, he is able to see the nest of this situation and is often praised for being a spot of sunshine in the cast). There are also much darker takes while staying true to Kalim’s caring nature, such as fandom works which portray his big heart (a strength) as a detriment, causing him to fall into deep paranoia and/or guilt. For the purposes of this discussion, I will still refer back to those two original viewpoints, just be aware that they are not truly “opposites”.

Lastly, the ask is phrased such that it suggests that dark content is “the norm” in Japanese circles. In actuality, the content you see is dependent on personal biases and what the algorithms feed you based on your likes and communities. While it’s true that perhaps Japanese fandoms have more dark content than the western fandoms, that doesn’t necessarily mean it is “the norm”. It is still considered niche, it is just that the fandom culture of Japan is more open-minded about these depictions, as well as fans’ choices to filter out dark content if they do not wish to encounter it. Western fandoms are very different in this regard. Rather than ignoring content they dislike or find disturbing, western fans tend to adopt an attitude of openly renouncing that which they dislike and, at times, calling out those that do enjoy that kind of thing. It is this social stigma and pressure within western fandoms which creates a less welcoming space for dark content to exist and to be publicly shared. Rather than saying one type of content is “the norm”, I think it’s more accurate to say certain types of content are deemed as being “acceptable” or “unacceptable” depending on the fandom culture.

Now then, as to why the western fandom in particular tends to favor works that show the TWST characters in a favorable light rather than focus on their darker aspects? There are many possible explanations for this:

Cultural differences in fandom spaces. I already mentioned this in the opening paragraphs, but it warrants repeating here. Japanese fans are much more reserved in how they express themselves and tend to keep quiet relating to content they dislike or don’t care for. Western fans are more outspoken and may actively “call out” what they dislike. This is typically observed in collectivist vs individualist countries, as conformity with the group/not causing disruptions to the group harmony and standing out and being one’s own individual are opposing ideologies and values.

Japan’s culture is one that stresses the importance of politeness and being proper. The country has strict social expectations of people and especially women (which makes up the majority of TWST’s fanbase). It is only in the realm of fiction where Japanese women are able to freely express themselves and to explore subject matter deemed socially inappropriate, however dark it may be. Fandom is their creative outlet. Meanwhile in the west, it’s the opposite. Overt uniqueness is more acceptable overall, but there is also a present effort of policing online content, often in the name of social activism and inclusion. This makes sense for western countries, many of which sport much more diverse populations than Japan.

Going in with the certain expectations of the game. Many western fans mistook Twisted Wonderland for a dating sim when its marketing materials first released, maybe due to a language barrier. This set them up for the wrong expectations about romancing and potentially “fixing” a villain, even when the game finally came out (due to residual feelings; I know for a fact there are still a handful of fans who want TWST to have a dating sim spinoff or wish the game had been a dating sim from the start).

Changes made in the localization.

I’m not sure what the ratio of westerners playing EN to JP, but the official localization made several changes which “blunted” some details or changed the context of some characters’ stories. For example, Jamil is no longer a “servant” but an “employee”, Kalim is his “employer”, not “master”, and Jamil complains that his parents will be “so mad at him” when he is asked why he doesn’t rebel against the Asims whole the consequences are made much more explicit in JP (his family will be thrown out onto the streets). Cater, Floyd, and Idia have also notably gotten a lot more memey dialogue that was not there in the original. These softened versions the characters may make western fans more likely to see the a less severe backstory or have goofier interpretation of certain characters.

Popular western media’s interpretations of villains. A lot of western media nowadays tries to redeem the bad guys. For example, in many young adult and adult romance fantasy novels, the love interest is often presented as a misunderstood bad boy that has a change of heart because of the protagonist. Disney themselves is also guilty of “softening” many of their more recent villains and giving new backstories to older villains to make them more sympathetic (Maleficent, Cruella, etc). Compare this to “classic” era Disney villains, who are just evil for the sake of being evil. These will naturally inform the general public’s views on villains. (It is also to be noted that Disney villains and specifically their evilness are extremely popular in Japan. They are adored for being fun characters, not necessarily admired for being bad.)

Disney’s reputation, especially in the west. The company is closely associated with fairy tales —and, more importantly, with magic and happy endings. This, too, may contribute to western fans wanting to look on the “bright side” of things and wish for happy endings for characters that are, in fact, part of the Disney brand. The Disney message is perhaps strongest in the west due to having its origins there:

The age differences between the Japanese and the western fandoms. The western TWST fandom skews young overall whereas the Japanese TWST fandom is older (which is why a lot of TWST merch you’ll see is expensive household goods and fashion; this is to appeal to working Japanese women). As I mentioned in the previous point, this means younger audiences in the west may mostly encounter media which presents villains in a more sympathetic light, or at least much earlier (which leaves a stronger impression). This makes them more inclined to view other media in a way which is more flattering for the villains even when they are dark or morally ambiguous in canon.

Younger fans may also be not as informed and thus lack some perspective, which means they may have more limited views. A 15 year old wouldn’t have as much life experience as a 20 year old—that’s not a bad thing, it’s an objective truth that has an impact on their perspective. They may see things more simplistically or see easier solutions to complex problems. Younger fans may, for example, be able to identify circumstances as being traumatic or unfair (such as the case with Jamil’s past and Leona’s desire to introduce new technologies to his home country) but may not understand the full ramifications (ie why Jamil cannot just leave or have Kalim to speak with his dad about it, how difficult Leona’s plans would be to implement as well as the social pushback due to the harm the advances could pose to the environment). This leads to more of a lean to positive content, as dark content would inherently mean problems are much more difficult to resolve and have more factors to them than what was originally considered.

I want to also point out that younger fans are especially concerned with what their peers may think of them, and so they may feel too embarrassed to dabble in darker content. Some dark content may also not be perceived as appropriate depending on the fan’s age. Alternatively, some fans may just not feel comfortable exploring those ideas (and that’s totally fine!).

Western fans project onto/relate to the characters they love. I’m not saying that Japanese fans don’t do this, but I feel like western fans tend to do this to a VERY strong and sometimes parasocial degree (which has its roots in comfort character and kinning culture, things which largely do not exist in east Asian fandoms). Like… western fans can relate to a character so deeply that any criticism of that character can feel like a personal attack on them, the fan. Likewise, if that character is presented as having flaws or doing questionable things (even if it is canon), the fans that are strongly projecting onto the character may feel that they themselves are flawed or somehow “bad” too. This can lead into trying to defend or justify the character’s flaws or actions. Maybe a fan that has shared trauma with a character sees them as a proxy and want to see the character (and thus, themselves) in a positive way or in good situations. In eastern fandoms, it is more appropriate to consider the character a separate entity rather than relating to or projecting onto them.

The western rise in moral justification for the content one consumes. This is a big one, and it has been alluded to in some of the other points. There is this belief circulating in western fandom spaces that “the content you consume reflects your real world values and morals”. So… if you believe that (or are in a social space where it is believed) and happen to like evil or morally grey characters, what does that imply about your own character? Does that mean you are morally bankrupt or that you condone bad things? Personally, I don’t think so but I understand why this way of thinking could make people feel ashamed. They may avoid looking at “dark” interpretations of a character and instead focus on wholesome feel-good content so that the content they consume reflects “well” on themselves. In other cases, fans may try to twist the bad points of a character to make it “morally okay” to like them.

That’s everything I could come up with off the top of my head!! I hope this was interesting to read and maybe helped you see the international TWST fandom from a new perspective. With that, I’ll leave you with this relevant Wreck-It Ralph quote: “I’m bad, and that’s good. I will never be good, and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me.”

[newcathedrals]

can i ask you a dumb question how do you classify a 'classic' winnix fic i am so curious

I am so glad someone asked! I am so passionate about the “classic” style of winnix. “Classic” doesn’t refer to when the fic was written (it doesn’t matter if it’s old or not) or its popularity (it doesn’t have to be super popular). It's not a super common term or anything, but I found a pattern in many winnix fics bc I read so much and started thinking of these elements as part of a "genre."

Here are the musts of a “classic winnix” fic:

Not an AU. events line up closely to the progression of the events in the series, no huge divergences. diehard writers even line events up with the real Dick Winter’s book/other Band of Brothers books

If the plot includes time immediately post-war, it often takes place in NJ and involves Dick working at Nixon Nitration

Kathy, Nix’s sister, Nix’s father, and Dick’s family members are part of the plot if there’s any post-war plot

Lewis’s alcoholism is an issue in the plot and in Dick and Nix’s relationship. Nix struggles with some sort of mental health issue: alcoholism, depression, self-worth issues, etc

Nix and Dick both have issues related to their sexuality because of the homophobia of the period. Even if one or both of them have fully accepted themselves, this was a process they had to go through. Almost always, Dick has spiritually reconciled his sexual attraction with his Christianity. Internalized homophobia and societal homophobia are issues that they have to face. 

There are other elements that are definitely not “required” but are super common in the “classic” winnix fic style. Most of the classic style fics will have a few of these elements:

Depending how long the post-war plot of the fic is, Dick and Nix almost always end up farming in the end. Chicken farming, grain farming, and producing animal feed are popular choices. If they end up farming, they always end up in rural Pennsylvania 

Stanhope Nixon is an antagonist and blocks Dick and Nix’s ultimate goals of happiness and peace. He’s an alcoholic, and “gave” Nix the disease through childhood trauma, or even just genetics

Nix struggles to be a father to his daughter, and struggles with this issue. 

Harry and Kitty are Nix and Dick’s closest friends that remain from their time in the war. They’re not explicitly homophobic and accept Dick and Lew as a couple (especially if they’re not outwardly affectionate in front of Kitty and Harry)

Lewis often does not feel deserving of Dick and struggles to accept Dick’s love. Sometimes he thinks that Dick should move on from him and marry a woman, and that he stands in the way of Dick’s “true” happiness and progress in life. Dick has to convince Nix that he’s the one for him, and that making a life with Lewis would make him happiest. 

Bastogne foxhole activities (iykyk)

Some writers pay attention to the speech patterns and slang of the time, and incorporate 1940s language into their writing 

I never get enough of this style! Even though the fics within this “genre” have so many similarities with each other, each writer also brings something new to the style and plot. The longer fics within the classic style also feel the most reminiscent of published novels. Maybe I’ll make a list of my favorites in the classic style (although many are in both of my winnix fic rec posts). The peak of classic winnix is the “What Things We Have Heard Together” series by joissant in my opinion. Some other greats are Fiorediloto’s "The Earth Below My Feet" series and the shorter “Give Me Light, Give Me Life” by an orphan account. But I also find more fics that fit into the "classic" style every day!