#i have a backlog of phrases

[phrase-book]

I feel like several artists on this site need this plastered on their forehead.

Seriously. They just pop in my head.

Maybe one day it'll all be made digital.

[seeingivy]

high infidelity

satoru gojo x f!reader

do you really wanna know where I was april 29th?

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: infidelity (omg who knew), yn is a doctor, satoru gets injured and haha ur still my emergency contact's his way back into your life, megumi and yuuji flirting side quest, a big hot flaming mess of writing this is actually so bad

an: no one say anything to me about this fic actually. or the fact that I made everyone do a poll about which taylor as gojo to write just to not write either of those options and produce a flaming, hot wreck of garbage. anyways, live love high infidelity this song will always be special to me because on april 29th, I was indeed, at the eras tour seeing mother for the first time

--

You swallow hard as the waitress walks up again, with that sheepish, awkward smile on her face. And you dread the unrelenting, embarrassing question that’s going to follow. One that she’s already asked, three times. 

“Are you still waiting for someone or would you like to order?” 

And you’re not sure why, but the fact that she asks the question, in that phrasing, in that tone, is enough to aggravate the very thin patience you already have. Because really, it’s quite possibly the stupidest question she could have asked. 

Clearly, you are still waiting for someone. You’ve been sitting here for the past hour and a half. If you were really intent on eating at this restaurant alone, then you would have ordered the second they seated you. 

And it’s rude, abrasive even. To ask, to relentlessly question, three times. Because obviously, you feel horrible for taking the table, when there’s a line of people patiently waiting by the door. And it’s not your fault that your boyfriend is late. And really, it’s just humiliating, that she keeps throwing it in your face, that you’re sitting here, alone when he should be here making you feel special. 

You sigh, giving her a halfhearted smile. 

“Can I have twenty more minutes? I promise I’ll leave after that and let you give the table to someone else.” 

She smiles, genuine and sweet, as she places her hand on your shoulder and makes a promise to bring some more bread before you leave. 

The premise of it - the fact that she smiled in earnest and must know that you feel horrible, that she has her own deposit of pity for you - has you bringing your fingers up to your forehead and massaging that small, pulsating feeling by your temples. Because here you were, mentally cussing out the poor girl working minimum wage at the restaurant when the real subject of your wrath couldn’t even be bothered to show up. 

And you hate that the negativity, the frustrations of the situation, seem to bleed into everything else. Because you’ll find yourself being upset with Yuri, but then suddenly it turns into a blind agitation to everything. The barista, for not making your coffee right, your co-workers asking to switch shifts so they can go on a trip with their partners, the laundry machine when it stops working. 

Your phone starts incessantly buzzing on the table, the smallest glimmer of hope sparking in your chest at the sound. And instantly dies, when you realize it’s just the Emergency Room calling you. 

You slide open the call, pressing the phone to your ear. 

“This is Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. Is this a miss Y/N L- wait.” Megumi states into the phone, mumbling off the speaker. 

You press the phone harder to your ear, to try to catch the end of the conversation that Yuuji must be having with Megumi. 

“Y/N. Right, hi!” he states, voice halfheartedly cheery, which is already odd enough for him. 

“Hi Megumi. Why are you calling me on my day off?” you deadpan, that backlogged deposit of irritation coming in hot and fresh for the sweetest resident you have. 

“Right. Um, we have a mister Satoru Gojo in the Emergency Room who has you listed as his Emergency Contact. He’s kind of in bad shape so we were going to call regarding-” 

“Gojo? I’ll be there in ten.” you respond, shoving the phone into your purse and leaving the tip flat on the tablecloth. You give the waitress - standing there with that restocked bread in her hand - a polite wave on the way out and speed as fast as you can to the hospital. 

--

You march into the ER, rubbing warmth into your biceps, to find Megumi at the nurses station, as always, flirting with the pink haired student nurse he’s taken a keen liking to. 

“Hey. Where is he?” you ask, Yuuji and Megumi turning their heads to give you half hearted smiles. It’s only the start of the night shift, but by the way their shoulders are already sagging, you can tell whoever has to deal with them has a long night ahead of them.

“Right sooooo. We can’t decipher any of his paperwork. We need you to read it first and then you can see him. He’s in room eleven.” Yuuji states, giving a peachy smile, as you scan over Gojo’s characteristic illegible handwriting. 

“Jesus. He still writes like a twelve year old.” you murmur, filling out the sheet at the side with all the information Yuuji needed. 

“You’re all dressed up, teach. What’s the occasion?” Megumi asks, lazily leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand. 

“Ah. It’s my one year anniversary with Yuri. We were supposed to go to dinner.” you mumble, scratching the last of the information on the sheet and handing it to Yuuji. 

You feel a hand sling around your shoulder and a distinct smell of smoke, only to find Shoko hanging off your frame. 

“And yet here you are, because he didn’t show up.” she murmurs, earning you a set of wide eyes as you glare at Shoko. Because at their core, Yuuji and Megumi are first, definitely crushing on each other, and second, nosy as hell. 

“And here you are. Destroying every last cell in your lungs, that are eagerly, earnestly begging you to stop.” you deadpan. 

She flicks your nose as you finish filling out the sheet and reading through the paramedics report that was attached to his paperwork.

“Please tell me you attacked Yuri at the dinner table and that’s why you’re here. Fork to the hand? Spoon in the eye? Knife to the dick?” Shoko asks, excitedly. 

“Didn’t you like take an oath? For the preservation of human life?” Megumi deadpans. 

“No. I skipped that day of medical school.” Shoko replies. 

“Gojo’s here, I’m still his emergency contact.” you respond back, giving her a pointed glare. 

“What happened?” 

You turn your head expectantly to Megumi, who obliges. 

“His car got t-boned. He’s pretty roughed up.” Megumi responds. 

You give Shoko a weary look, as you march to the other side of the unit, preparing yourself for whatever roughed up version of Gojo you were about to be greeted with. Because every interaction with Gojo was a rush of emotions - good, bad, sweet, and ugly - but this might be the biggest thing you’ve ever had to stomach yet. 

“So. Who is this Satoru guy? I’ve never heard of him before.” Megumi asks Shoko, giving Yuuji an all knowing glance. 

“Her ex-boyfriend.” Shoko responds. 

“No way. Before that asshat Yuri?” Yuuji asks, suddenly too invested in the story all together. 

“Well, obviously. He taught as a professor at the same medical school she attended.” 

“Y/N dated a professor?” Megumi asks, tone incredulous.  

“I mean that’s one way to get through I guess.” Yuuji adds. 

Shoko smacks the top of Yuuji’s head, earning a fit of laughter from the two of them for his stupid comment. 

“You need to focus on your nursing exams instead of flirting with Megumi on your fifteen. It would do you some good to flirt with your preceptor. And no, he was just a fellow doing research at the time. They were best friends for a good few years, had that whole will they won’t they vibe going on.” Shoko responds. 

“So….did they?” Megumi asks. 

“They did. To be honest, I can’t really remember why they broke up. Something stupid.” Shoko shrugs, giving the two of them shoves on the shoulder before walking past the hall, to find you standing in front of the door. Your hand is resting against the handle, but you have yet to yank down and push yourself in. 

“Are you warming up the handle or…?” 

You’re thrown out of your train of thought to find Shoko at your side, hands buried deep in her white coat as she gives you a weary glance. To anyone else, Shoko would seem wildly disinterested, almost annoyed at how you were acting. But you know better and can see that small twinge of concern buried under her long eyelashes, the hint of it in her voice. 

“Oh. Um…no. Just got lost in thought.” you murmur, staring at the faded eleven on the marker. 

“About?” 

You swallow hard, the warm tears filling your eyes. 

“I haven’t talked to him in so long. And the last time we talked we were arguing over…..leaving dishes in the sink. Breaking up. If I walk in there and he’s dead, that’s going to be the last thing I ever said to him.” you whisper, air grating against your throat. 

Shoko puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes once.. 

“He’s not dead. The monitor tech would have picked up on that.” 

“The monitor tech? Are we talking about the same monitor tech? Because Nobara is too busy flirting with the phlebotomist Maki to ever do her job. They’re worse than Megumi and Yuuji.” 

Shoko scoffs, before rolling her eyes at you. 

“No one is worse than Megumi and Yuuji. Yuuji knocked the entire crash cart over when he clocked in because Megumi complimented his Star Wars themed scrubs.” 

You snort, shaking your head, as you take a deep breath in and push the handle down. Shoko gives you a warm smile as you walk in and flick the lights on, only to see Satoru, sitting up in bed and lazily scrolling through the TV channels. 

He looks over at you first, his eyes going wide, as you walk up to him and cup the side of his cheek. The tears that were welling in your eyes are falling in full flesh, at the sight of him all battered and bruised. 

His snow white hair is matted red, an angry, glaring scratch on his forehead. His arm is littered with tiny cuts, with a good amount of dressing on his torso, the red blood already seeping through and the look on his face so broken and tired that it makes your heart twinge. 

“Satoru.” 

He smiles, albeit a little confused, as he looks up at you and brings his hand up to yours, where it’s resting against your face. 

“Hey princess.” 

You laugh through your sprout of tears, which has the smallest smile turning up on his cut up lips and the soft, faint smile lines appearing near his eyes. 

“You here to patch me up, doc?” he whispers. 

You shake your head incessantly, which has him rolling his eyes. 

“Not today.” 

“Shame. I heard having sex is really good for patient recovery.”

You smack his shoulder, biting hard down on your cheeks that Satoru Gojo, in full flesh, is okay. Because he still has the audacity to flirt with you, even when he’s near death in the hospital. 

“I’m going to look at your chart, okay?” 

You let go of his face and find yourself in front of the computer, logging in with your credentials, and trying to pull up his chart as fast as you can. 

“If I found out you got into this accident because you were trying to find the perfect song before you got home, I’m going to put your head on a stick, Satoru Gojo” you murmur, earning a laugh from him. 

“First and foremost, you always have to close the drive home on a banger. Sue me.” 

“I think I might just.” 

“And contrary to your beliefs, this accident actually wasn’t my fault. They crashed into me, naturally, because I do no wrong. Ever.” he states. 

“Right.” you chuckle. 

You read over the report, making it a point to berate Yuuji for his shitty charting later, as you look through his vital signs and blood cultures that were taken when he arrived here. 

“So do all doctors dress like they’re about to go clubbing or is it just you?” 

You look down, only now noticing that you’re still wearing the a-line dress from the dinner you were supposed to have with Yuri. You make a mental note to shoot him a text after checking with Satoru after, knowing all too well that with how busy Yuri is, you standing him up would throw him over the edge. 

“Just me. I really love to put on a show for my patients, Gojo. And what clubs are you going to where people dress like this?” you mutter, clicking through the scans that were taking. 

“I appreciate the lengths you go to for me. It’s always what I loved about you. And I exclusively attend Taylor Swift night at the Underground” he states, placing his hands on his chest. 

You look over and glare at him, before reading through the treatment plan. When you look over Nanami’s notes, you feel your heart drop and turn over to look at him. At his bright, blue eyes so wide and unaware, the look on his face so…innocent it bothers you. That in a few hours, he’s going to be in unspeakable pain while he recovers. 

The door opens and Nanami and Yuuta are standing at the door, Nanami already scoffing at you. 

“That’s confidential patient information, Dr. L/N.” Nanami states, voice stern. He hands you a jacket, which you pull on, as you hike your hands under your biceps and talk to him. 

“You were going to tell me all of it anyways. So…what’s the plan here?” you grumble, settling next to Gojo at the side of his bed, placing your hands in his nearly pink hair. 

“Well. I’m going to-” 

“The surgical resident has to be Yuuta, I don’t trust that dumbass Todo to do it. You have to use prolene stitches, I don’t want his skin to scar and don’t leave him under for too long. He’s never been one to suit medications well. Don’t play any rap music when you’re operating, he hates that type of stuff and-” 

Nanami puts his hands square on your shoulders, squeezing once. 

“Thank you, Dr. L/N. We’ll talk all details after, okay?” Nanami states, voice soft, as you turn over to look at Gojo. 

Gojo gives you a weak smile, which you return, before pushing his hair off of his forehead, and lightly brushing through the white tresses as he looks at them.

“Give it to me straight, Kento Bento.” Satoru states, earning an eye roll from Nanami who's clearly unamused. But you can tell he doesn’t mind it all too much, because in the monotony of shitty patients, he’s always been one to appreciate the sweet jokesters. And Satoru’s the biggest clown there is. 

“It’s a relatively easy procedure, Satoru. We’re just going to go in and repair the damage that you sustained to your digestive tract from the crash. Do you have any questions for me?” Nanami asks. 

“Can I request that she’s not in there when it happens?” Satoru asks, looking up at you. 

“Hey. I can-” 

“Yes. We’ll make sure of it.” Yuuta responds. 

“Thank you, Yuuta.” Gojo responds, giving him a smile. 

“We’ll be around in an hour to take you to surgery.” Nanami states, ignoring the pointed glare you were giving him as he strolls out of the room. 

You turn to Gojo, the overstimulation of the past ten minutes really hitting you, as you feel your brain short circuit while he’s looking at you. You try to focus on the sensation of his hair in your hand and that pulsating beat that you’ve been feeling for his wrist, but you can’t really process any of it. 

Every high and low you’ve experienced in the past few minutes - the elation in Gojo’s voice, the pain from seeing him suffering, how he’s still the same as you left him- it’s enough to abandon any rational thought processes from occurring in your head. And it leaves you standing there, silently, with your hands on him. 

“Hi Y/N.” 

“Hi ‘Toru.” 

He smiles at the nickname, reaching forward to lace his fingers through yours. 

“I was driving and then…I wasn’t. I looked up and all I could see was the stoplight above me, then the flashing lights of the ambulance, and now…you….looking at me like that. Your brain isn’t the only one hurting right now.” 

“Looking at you ike what?” you murmur. 

“Like you’re in pain, Y/N.” he states, emphasizing his syllables. 

You shake your head, fighting down that wave of worry that’s sitting in your skin. 

“You know, Kento’s a really good doctor. And Yuuta…he’s like the most promising surgical resident. And even then, I-I can get another senior surgeon if you don’t want a student. And-and it really won’t hurt that bad and I’ll make sure they give you all the good meds and-” 

“Y/N.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I know you’ve always hated that and I just-” 

“I don’t hate it. Just, slow down for a second…talk me through all this because I really don’t know what’s going on and you know I don’t like not knowing.” 

You pull up the chair, messing with his hands as you talk. 

“You have to get surgery. The impact you had when you crashed led to-” 

“Y/N. I know all of that already. I’m asking about you.” 

You frown, swallowing hard, as you run your fingers along the scratch on his knuckles.

“You never update your current information.” 

“Huh?” 

“You….you never canceled the stupid Hulu subscription when we got the Disney Plus bundle. And you kept having to trek all the way across town to get the mail, because you forgot to change the address when we moved, and you-” 

“I don’t really see how-” 

“You forgot to change your emergency contact, Satoru. After we broke up, you-you forgot to call them and tell them that they shouldn’t call me.” you hum, as Gojo’s hand tightens in it’s hold around yours. 

“Oh shit, Y/N. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

You lurch up from your chair, tangling your arms around his neck as you crackle his head into your frame, that incessant stream of tears pouring down your eyes as he brings his own arms around yours. 

And it feels too fast, because suddenly Nanami and Yuuta are back at your sides, giving you sympathetic glances as they wheel Gojo away and you’re left standing in the hallway, flat against the wall, every horrible outcome of the next four hours playing through your head. 

--

On hour five, already a bad sign, you’re sitting flat against the floor with a jello cup in your hand and in Megumi’s spare pair of scrubs. They’re both sitting at your sides, the dead quiet of the night shift leaving them with you. 

“Kento likes to be really careful, Y/N. That’s all it is.” Megumi states, giving his best attempts at calm reassurance. 

“And Yuuta’s great. We all love Yuuta, he’s sweet….intelligent. He’s more than capable to do this.” Yuuji adds. 

You crack through every last bone in your finger, the entire interaction playing over in your head. 

“I-I just went in there so fast. And the time was so…so short that I didn’t even say much to him.” you respond, sighing. 

“When’s Yuri coming?”

You turn your head to the side, in confusion, before you register Yuji’s words all together. 

“Why would he-” 

You panic, remembering that you had never texted Yuri back, that he’s probably fuming in his own pit of rage right now at his apartment, cursing your name to god knows what degree. You reach for your phone in your pocket, only to find no notifications from him. You scroll up on the chat, only to find that he hadn’t texted you the entire day, yesterday. 

His last text read April 28th, a reminder that he needed you to pick up his drycleaning for his golf game this weekend. 

“He’s really an asshole, isn’t he?” you spit. 

You see Megumi and Yuuji give each other wide eyed looks over the top of your head, as you click your phone shut and let it fall to the ground. 

Because in the dim lights of this hospital, with Satoru’s blood, some of it still smeared on the side of your hand, you feel like you’re seeing clearly for the first time in years. 

That really, Yuri in actuality, is not the one for you. And it’s not that he’s a bad guy, he’s honorable in some sense really, but what he gives isn’t even a fraction close to what you want. 

He’s tall and lanky. The type of guy to represent every portion of the food triangle in the three meals he ate. He wakes up at five in the morning to go to the gym before an entire day at work, and still somehow finds time to read and run a personal wellness blog when he gets home. 

He’s classy, in every sense of the term. The exact type of man you envision when you think of someone put together, wholly and fully. On top of their shit, living their best life, one that people aspired to. 

And that was in no way what you wanted. 

You wanted Satoru. Satoru who convinces you that there’s still enough room for a little treat after dinner, despite the fact that you both stuffed yourself full at the restaurant. He sleeps in late on the weekends, pressing lazy kisses to your skin to wake you up before entirely botching the whole breakfast in bed thing he was trying to impress you with. 

He was real, in every sense of the term. The type of person you envision when you imagine the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He’s funny, he’s kind and he most certainly would never leave you stranded at a restaurant on your one year anniversary. Because Satoru Gojo certainly wasn’t classy, but he was honorable. And if he promised to be somewhere, he’d be there early, making sure everything was perfect before you got there. 

And right now, two of your most trusted co-workers had their hands inside his body cavity, trying to fix the mess in there. 

--

When Gojo comes to, there’s an aching soreness in his torso and neck. He can feel the tense pressure around his arms too, bandages wrapped around every square inch of his body. But that warm feeling around his wrist was entirely different from the rest. 

He opens his eyes to find you, fast asleep with your head down on the side of his bed and your hand secured tightly around his wrist. Your breaths are slow, so deep in your sleep that you don’t even process Satoru moving around you amidst your slumber. 

He brings his hand down to your hair and watches you lean into his touch, nuzzling your head closer to the blanket. Your hair is messy at this point, bunched up at the top of your head in the messiest knot he’s seen you sport yet. 

There’s a knock at the door and Yuuji is standing there, a small smile on his face. 

“Good morning, Mr. Gojo. Welcome back.” 

Satoru smiles as he moves to his side and starts to hook him up to the monitors, taking a set of fresh vitals. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Just sore, Yuuji. How are you?” 

“Ah. Night shift. Same old.” 

“Is that little emo you like here?” 

Satoru watches Yuuji’s cheeks go bright pink, as he starts fumbling with the cuff around his hand. 

“Ah, you mean, Megumi? Y/N’s resident? No, he-he’s off tonight.” he stumbles. 

“Shame. Nothing like flirting on the night shift.” Satoru states, clicking his tongue. 

“Oh, I don’t flirt with-” 

“Well, you should. He’s cute. And a doctor. Someone is going to snatch him up real fast.” Satoru states, definitively. 

“Mr. Gojo, I don’t know if-” 

“Trust me. I know all too well. People swoop in for the doctors before you can even fight to get them back.” Satoru states, reaching down to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“Well, I-” 

“I’m just saying, kid. Swoop in before it’s too late.” he states, giving him a smile. 

“Yeah. Sure, I-I will. Do you need anything else, Mr. Gojo?” 

“Can you get her a blanket? She always gets allergies when it’s too drafty in the room she’s sleeping in.” 

Yuuji smiles, tapping on the railings of the bed. 

“Sure thing.” 

And Yuuji curses himself for doing it, for meddling, but he pokes his head into the room one last time before leaving. 

“And just so you know. You….sometimes you think it’s too late to swoop. But it’s actually like…the perfect time. To swoop….like a bird or something, I don’t know-” Yuuji stammers. 

And when Yuuji leaves and Gojo is able to process his words, he’s trying his best to wipe the smile off of his face. 

--

“Hey, Megs. How are his vitals today?” you ask, swiveling over in your chair. 

Megumi, irritated with your constant pestering, has had enough of his fill today. He swings his own chair around, tugging at the stethoscope around his neck, as he glares at you. 

“For the hundredth time, your little boo boo bear is just fine. We’re planning to discharge tomorrow.” 

You frown, reaching for the closest item - a roll of gauze - and throw it square in his face. 

“He’s not my boo boo bear. And I’m just checking. You know he could have complications after the surgery like inf-” 

“Infection, hypotension, septic shock, multiple system organ failure, yeah yeah. I know. I graduated top of my class at medical school, you know?” 

“And yet here you are, being taught by Shoko. You’re clearly not that great if you’re being trained by a girl who cheated her way through medical school.” 

“I’m going to leave. And when I’m gone, you’re going to be really pissed because you’re going to be stuck with some idiot that can’t even take vitals.” Megumi deadpans, swiveling back to his computer. 

“No, you’re not. You’d never leave your boo boo bear hanging. Especially since he’s planning on asking you on a date tomorrow.” 

“He’s not asking me on a date.” Megumi responds. 

You smile, trying to swallow your laugh as you respond. 

“Oh, sure he is. And-” 

Your phone timer goes off, as you gleefully sprint out of your chair, and down the hall to Satoru’s room. Nanami’s in there, unwrapping his bandages, as you knock and enter to make your presence known. At the sight of you, Nanami’s glaring as you drag the chair up and sit at his side. 

“Y/N. You should be working.” 

“I’m on my lunch. And I’m allowed to do whatever I want for lunch.” 

“You should eat something, Y/N. Instead of bothering our patients.” Nanami scolds, as he shuts the door behind you and you turn to Satoru. 

Satoru looks way better, the bruising on his skin fading to yellow and the cuts all around his skin healing. He’s smiling softly, a hand cupping your cheek as he talks. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” 

“Hi Satoru.” 

“You know, you really should eat something on your lunch break.” 

“You know, you really should keep your annoying opinions to yourself.” you respond. 

He scoffs, moving his hand to mess up your hair, as you swat his hands off. 

“So.” Satoru states. 

“So?” 

“A little birdie told me that you broke up with Yuri last night.” 

“Well, your little birdie was wrong. As nosy as he is, he clearly doesn’t know how to listen.” 

You both laugh, Gojo slightly dejected by your response, as you lace your hands through his, and smile at your hands firmly pressed together. 

“Yuuji’s got a bad case of the chismosa virus.” 

“And you don’t? I heard you giggling with Shoko at the nurses station about how the emo is going to ask Yuuji on a date.” 

“No, Yuuji's asking Megumi on the date. And okay, but that’s actually a big deal. I’ve been trying to set that up for months.” 

“Well, you can’t take credit because I’m actually the one who got Yuuji to do it.” 

You frown, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks. 

“Shut up. It’s only the months of build up, that I basically created, that’s making him do it.” 

“Well, I pushed him over the edge. So it’s my victory.” 

You sigh, sitting back in your chair as you smile at him, at how easily you both fall back into this. 

“How about we both did it?” you ask, giving him a smile. 

“Sure. We always did make a good team.” he responds, making your cheeks burn. 

You reach for his blanket and start moving his gown to inspect the incision, trying to make sure that the site wasn’t getting infected, from when you checked yesterday. . 

“Okay, pervert. I didn’t realize you were into voyeurism.” Satoru says, incredulously. 

“Gojo. Do you even know what voyeurism means?” 

“Yeah. It’s people who like to have sex in public.” 

You snort, moving the edge of the gown as you note the clean sutures, healing well along the length of his torso. 

“That is not what voyeurism means, dumbass.” 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was fighting with the sex kink expert here.” 

“I-I’m not a sex kink expert! You’re just fucking stupid.” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

You roll your eyes, as you settle back into the chair, reaching forward to cup his face. He smiles, soft and warm, which you return. 

“You’re healing really well. It’ll just be a faint line, right around your torso when you’re out of here.” you murmur. 

“It kinda looks like I got my legs cut off and someone sewed them back on.” he murmurs. 

“That’s not funny.” you deadpan, glaring at him. 

“Kinda funny. That’s a really unfortunate way to die.” he responds.

“I know there’s a universe out there where that actually happens to you. And I know for a fact that Satoru doesn’t think it’s funny at all.” 

“Okay, Doctor Strange. Let’s pipe down there, alright? Even if that did happen to me, I’d come back from it. Because guess what?” 

“Don’t say it.” you groan. 

“Because I’m the strongest.” 

“You know that never gets less annoying right?” 

“You love it.” he responds, reaching forward to pinch your cheek. 

You look down, at your hand tangled in Satoru’s as you find a way to broach the topic. That for all intents and purposes, that you want nothing to do with Yuri. That you want him, that you do love his stupid jokes, that you’d beg on your hands and knees for him to take you back because-

“Do you want to go to the aquarium on Friday?” Satoru asks. 

“The aquarium?” 

“Yeah. We can take a picnic basket, eat on the lawn outside afterwards.” Satoru says. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, aggressively nodding in response. 

“Yeah. That sounds nice. We can um-carpool.” 

“Sure. It’s a date.” he responds, leaning into his pillow with a soft smile on his face. 

You bite down the stupid smile that’s rising to your cheeks, as you close your eyes, humming in agreement. 

“Yeah. It’s a date.” you whisper back. 

--  

Eight days after the fact and Yuri, in his infinite wisdom, finally comes through. That’s when he musters the courage to bring himself to your apartment, where Satoru has been staying with you since he was discharged. And when Satoru answers the door, Yuri’s all levels of pissed. 

“Who are you?” Yuri asks. 

“I’m the owner of this house.” Gojo responds, trying not to laugh at his own joke. 

“Did Y/N move?” 

“No, dumbass. It was a joke.” he responds, rolling his eyes. 

Satoru leans off of the door frame, calling for you, as you join him at his side. 

“Hey, you okay? I was planning on making lunch for- oh.” 

Satoru smiles, reaching forward to ruffle your hair, before he shuffles away. 

“Holler if you need me.” 

You shoot Satoru a grateful smile, infinitely thankful that the two of you were able to pick up right where you left off, as you turn to Yuri in your doorway. 

“Where were you on Saturday?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest. 

You swallow hard, rehearsing the speech you had prepared with Satoru when you were tangled in his arms last night, and make your best attempt to deliver the blow the best you can. 

“Yuri. I think we should stop seeing each other.” 

“What?” 

“I just don’t think that we’re really compatible. You and I are…on different wavelengths. And you deserve someone who is better suited to you and your….interests.” you murmur, awkwardly rubbing your arms on your arms. 

In actuality, you feel a little bit bad. That technically, you might have been…a little bit dishonest with Yuri. Because you’re having this conversation with him, days after the fact, when you’ve already done god knows what with Gojo in the past few days he’s been back with you. He’s all but living in your apartment at this point, under the premise of needing twenty four hour medical support, when really, you’re both just soaking up on time you lost. 

Time is so precious, that you forgot to tell Yuri until he showed up, on your doorstep. You finally understand why Yuri was late to things, because whatever he was doing when he wasn’t with you, must have been keeping him occupied the way this was keeping you occupied. 

Because you kept planning on calling him, but then Gojo would take you out to breakfast. Or you’d sleep in too late and then knew that you’d be interrupting Yuri at work. And the list, it went on and on and led you to this moment and it’s painfully awkward. 

And maybe it’s bad, a little bit evil even, but that small bit of bad feeling is overshadowed by every bit of good that you’ve felt in the past few days. At Gojo ordering dessert out of nowhere, that he insists he’s sharing with you before he eats almost the entire thing, or when he drags you to the bathroom when he’s doing his night time hair care routine. 

“Where were you? On Saturday?” 

“Look, I just got called into work, okay?” 

“Are you…are you serious? Don’t tell me you’re really dating that dumbass who just answered the door?” 

“Frankly, it’s none of your business who I date anymore because you…you aren’t really a part of my life anymore. And we’re not dating, we’re just-” 

“God. He flashes one pretty smile at you and you go running back to him? Need I remind you, that you complained about him for months on end. About how he’s messy, he’s careless, he’s-” 

“That stuff doesn’t matter. At least not anymore.” 

“You’re a bitch, you know that?” 

You feel Gojo padding behind you, and you put your hand up in the air, signaling for him to stay where he is. 

“Do you really want to know where I was on April 29th? On our one year anniversary, I was sitting in a shitty restaurant, for an hour and a half waiting for you to show up. When I hadn’t heard from you all day. And then I got a call, that the man that I love was in the hospital, and then I was at his side. Willing him to wake up, because I would be so fucking angry, so fucking pissed if he died and I didn’t get to tell him that he meant the world to me.” 

Yuri swallows hard, the look of betrayal etched on his face. 

“Are you trying to hurt me right now? Do you get some kind of sick gratification from killing the one you love?” he asks. 

“I’d argue that my way is nicer actually. One fell swoop, with the truth out there. The slowest way to kill someone is never loving them enough. And honestly, it’s just cruel. And of course, something that you were too skilled at.” 

You’re not sure what it is about what you said, but suddenly Yuri’s stomping down the hallway and you’re shutting the door, as the tears start pouring out of your eyes and you’re leaning against the door. 

Now that Yuri’s gone, Satoru’s shed all his inhibitions and he’s cradling you straight in his arms, his soft voice cooing in your ear as you hiccup into his chest. 

“Hey. You did so good, princess.” 

“I-I’m not crying because I’m sad. I still…I still want you, you know?” 

Satoru smiles, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks in his hand and wipe your tears away. 

“I know that, sweetheart. I’m irresistible.” he murmurs. 

You lightly shove him, before resting your head against his torso, hearing the rapid beating of his heart under your ear. 

“I’m just really relieved. That you-that you’re-” 

You look up, at his sparkling blue eyes, the tiny fractals of color like perfectly constructed, charted constellations in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you’re here. Again.” 

He smiles wide, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead. 

“Me too, yeah?”

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist:

@porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme 

lmk if you would like to be added to my taylor as gojo or my general masterlist in the replies or inbox <3

[badaziraphaletakes]

these people do not understand abuse. y’all abuse is NOT making mistakes. either they have never been in an abusive relationship or have awful media comprehension skills. I watched the entire show with my mom (who is a licensed psychologist and has worked with abusive relationships since the start of her career) and we analysed the show (because she was also an English teacher) and that never came up. what are these people on

Oh, my goodness, thank you so much for sharing, @z1ish ! I am so happy to hear that a psychologist is saying the same thing we've been saying! :))))

So, then, let's get into it...

I sure as hell hope that somewhere deep down OP realizes Aziraphale isn't actually ab*sive and that they are just grasping at straws, because otherwise they should know perfectly well that there WOULD be no way for the writers to make it all come out right in the end with Aziracrow together. If you think Aziraphale is ab*sive (or whatever TF "borders on ab*sive" is supposed to mean, which, by the way, that's a whole thing in itself - ab*se is ab*se, period, and the suffering of victims is degraded by that kind of language, so if you're trying to say it's ab*sive, then you need to either piss or get off the pot) you shouldn't ship Aziracrow, and - I'm just gonna come right out and say this - you shouldn't be supporting this show in the first place, because this show ships Aziracrow.

If I thought for one SECOND that this show was glorifying an ab*sive relationship, underscoring it with beautiful music and pretty lighting and yada yada, then no power in heaven or hell could make me support it or give it one cent of my time or money. This is doubly so since we know that the couple is going to end up together and it's going to be portrayed as a good thing.

And frankly, I profoundly resent people misinterpreting my perspective on Good Omens as that. Not to mention it's the rankest hypocrisy for that to be coming (as I can only assume it is) from the subset of the fandom that is hell-bent (heh) on minimizing, if not outright denying, Heaven's ab*se of Aziraphale.

Also, the phrase "it's what victims tell themselves so they 'can' rationalize away the bad behavior" is highly, highly problematic. It veers veeery close to implying that the problem is with the victims who think that way - that victims are somehow enabling themselves to remain victims (when I hope we all know the problem is with OTHER PEOPLE - the ab*sers, the enablers in their circle, the broader society - who tell them things like that to try to keep them imprisoned. If we're going to make judgmental statements like "they're rationalizing away the bad behavior", we should make them about the ab*sers, not the victims).

Finally: I got slight vibes of "I stopped thinking about my ab*ser this way, so you should too!" from OP. That bothers me a LOT.

Many victims can't leave. For such people, thinking that way about their ab*ser is often a survival mechanism. A way to keep going. After all, if you allowed yourself to think about how horrible things really were, it would destroy you. It's not always about "rationalizing away bad behavior". Again I say, WE CANNOT CRITICIZE VICTIMS FOR HOW THEY THINK ABOUT THEIR AB*SERS. IT'S NOT OKAY!

To any victims out there who aren't able to leave: I hope and pray that someday you get to be free and safe. Until then, think whatever you need to to get by. I'll never judge you for it.

Whew. Sorry this got dark. But OP is playing with fire here. This one really, really pissed me off.

(EDITED TO ADD: This one is from before the NG thing broke. Yes, we really are that behind on our backlog, lol.)

[pendingnomdeplume]

i am drowning, and there's no sign of land pairing: hozier x gn!reader rating: T tags: angst, mental illness, hurt/comfort words: 761

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

title from: No Children by The Mountain Goats divider by: cafekitsune

It’s late when you call, a last resort for which you’ll profusely apologize and ask forgiveness that you’ll never believe or accept. The stains of leftover tears make your skin feel tight as you rub at your swollen eyes and take a deep breath. At least your breathing has evened, no longer wracked with hiccuping sobs that make your ribs hurt. 

“Hey, are you okay?” It’s the first thing to rush from his mouth, worry obvious in his voice. You can imagine him now, frizzy hair thrown up and out of the way while he sits at his computer or hunches over a notebook—the anxiety gripping his chest as he sees your name pop up at an hour that is usually all his own. 

The only response you can summon is a humorless laugh as you shake your head despite him not being able to see it. 

“Do you need me to call someone?” Andrew wouldn’t ask without reason, and you’d provided plenty of reason for this level of concern before. 

“Nothing so dire.” You wince at the way your voice cracks. “It’s just…it’s been a night.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

It’s such a simple phrase, but it makes your heart swell and tears prick the corners of your eyes. One of the few people who’s never made you feel like a burden on them. 

 You sigh. “My brain won’t stop, and it’s so loud today. I don’t know what actually triggered it, but…it’s been pretty touch-and-go the last few days.”

You brace yourself for an impact that likely won’t come. Andrew isn’t like that, won’t blame you for not reaching out sooner as if it’s a moral failing. Likely, he’ll be more frustrated with himself for not seeing signs even when you’ve worked so hard to conceal them. 

“Did you email your psych?” 

The question sends an electric buzz of irritation along your skin that you try to shake off. He knows you hate that question, but he also knows that you drag your feet on your own well-being—part of the menagerie of mental illness that convinces you it doesn’t matter anyway. You pause and take a deep breath to swallow down the snappy comment that desperately wants to break free. 

“I did, but I don’t know when I’ll hear back.” 

You’re both quiet as each of you thinks of the next thing to say, but everything that comes to mind is just as alarming as the call itself.  A barrage of self-doubt, self-pity, and self-deprecation tumbles through your brain, and you squeeze your eyes shut as though it will do anything to quiet the roar. 

“Do you…want to talk about it?” The question is asked thoughtfully and extended carefully. You take a moment to turn it over in your mind, gauging where exactly your own emotional energy is at. 

Finally, you shake your head. “No, I don’t think…I don’t think there’s anything to really talk about. Not right now, anyway. I just…” 

I just don’t feel real. I need an anchor to reality. 

Andrew asks, “Do you want to get on FaceTime, then? I’m working on something if you want to hear.” If you need company.

When the screen fills with his image, he smiles and greets you softly. An acoustic guitar rests in his lap as he flips back through his notebook to find where he’d left off. As he plucks out quiet notes, you shimmy down under the covers and reach over to turn off your bedside lamp. Andrew glances over when he notices the shift in his peripheral vision, and he smiles again when he sees your eyes peeking out from beneath your duvet, already starting to get heavy with sleep. 

You watch him for a while, occasionally catching the way he glances at his phone to see if you’re still there, still awake. Warmth floods your chest as he sings to himself, little sounds and whispers here and there as you catch a few words that make little sense to you within the greater context. 

Sleep takes you just as the sky begins to shift. The birds just outside Andrew’s window signal dawn, and he’d nearly forgotten he was on a call at all with how comfortable and cozy the silence is between you. 

He catches the way your eyes dart beneath closed eyelids, clearly in the depths of a dream. He whispers your name once, then repeats it louder than before, but you barely stir. Finally, he reaches over, letting his hand hover over the End Call button before whispering a barely audible, “Goodnight.” 

[doberbutts]

I know you've said writing is a pretty fraught thing for you so I hope I'm not prodding against something tender without realizing, but I wanted to say that I think you have an absolutely lovely authorial voice, and I find your writing an absolute joy to read. I only discovered your blog a couple of days ago, but I've been reading through some of your post backlog and I've found myself consistently impressed by how you're able to make nuanced, complex ideas understandable for lay-readers while still maintaining a very fluid and compelling style.

Speaking as someone coming from academia, that blend of clarity, readability and depth of thought is both rare and takes a lot of work to develop, and I really admire it.

Oh, I appreciate the kind words actually!

It's not that my relationship with writing is fraught, it's that black people being called eloquent is a, umm, well often it is a microaggression when being said by a nonblack person.

Let me put it this way. Black people have our own dialect- AAVE- which is constantly both appropriated and also derided as unintelligent. This is despite the fact that most people who use AAVE also can speak and understand standard american english- proficiency in two (tbh even more than two bc AAVE is largely regional as well but w/e I guess) dialects is somehow unintelligent if you choose to use the one most common to your demographic for whatever reason. (I know the reason the reason is racism actually).

Black people learned a long time ago that in order to be taken seriously by nonblack and white supremist society, we needed to not only not use AAVE, but also be the most eloquent and well-spoken person in the room at all times or else some white asshole would find a reason to discredit us by saying we were too unintelligent to have a place at the table.

We aren't allowed to not be eloquent. And eloquent is only allowed to mean "speaks in purely academic words and phrases with no slang, using only standard american with no strong accent besides the news broadcaster 'no accent' accent" with absolutely no wiggle room.

Racist white society does not consider it possible to be well-spoken while using AAVE. It doesn't matter how educated or articulate the speaker is if they're using AAVE. They're just not considered intelligent enough to have a firm grasp on the subject. Even if they're the most experienced person there.

So when I say that black people and eloquence is a fraught discussion, I don't mean that I don't like speaking or writing. What I mean is, black people being told we are well spoken when we choose to remove our own dialect from our mouths because that's the only way we can get people to listen to us, often times with people saying this in surprise as though they did not expect us to be well spoken...

That entire mess is a whole tangled web of racism. It's a microaggression.

And it's also actually one of the major reasons why I talk the way I do. I find it to be a nice blend between pure academic lingo and casual street talk- understandable for the layperson but with an obvious enough grasp of the concept that I don't drown when discussing with people more used to using the more theoretical terms. It is intentional, and it's nice to see someone notice that.

[phoenixyfriend]

This is in response to the email I sent on February 9th. Still nothing to the one from January 19th, or the Instagram DMs.

So... maybe they were just really backlogged and genuinely didn't get to it until today.

But part of me thinks that maybe the eleven comments people left about the issue on their Valentine's day post had something to do with it.

So yeah. Keep pushing! Here's another colourpop post that I think could use some Bothering. They're bragging about a new line of tinted skin balms, which hey.

Wide shade ranges are a great move... but you know what would be a better move? Addressing the now year-long controversy about the Twilight collections and people's requests that they consider donating to the Quileute Move to Higher Ground fundraiser.

(If you want to be polite, the above phrasing is probably fine. If you want to be petty... something about wanting to sell to people of color while also using indigenous groups for marketing without compensation being a Bad Look.)

Anyway, here's the link to their contact form where you can send a Bothering You email if you don't have instagram. This was the first post with suggested phrasing, and this was the second. Here's the explanation of why I even care, and why I think you should too; if you don't know what colourpop is, I've answered that here.

This time, I think I'm going to go down the route of "If you offered and they said No, just tell us that. If you didn't offer, then why not? We are asking for a donation and a statement." EDIT: Yeah so I can't use their contact form anymore. I guess if you email more than twice in quick succession, it auto-filters you to like... make you go to the email thread you already have with the company instead of badgering them about your missing/broken products and clogging it up more. So now I can't send emails or comment on their instagram.

The goal is not an indefinite boycott of the brand, or to cancel them. The goal is to get money directed to the fundraiser, holding colourpop accountable for their choice of partnerships. We want to help an existing charity for a marginalized group, not sink a company for bad choices. There's fuck all we can do to get the makeup removed from shelves; not enough people are talking about it. But making a donation to the fundraiser is much less of a burden on the company than us making a fuss to get the collection pulled for a variety of reasons, and that makes it both much more achievable, and much more helpful to the people we are trying to get money to.

Remember, the more of us that keep at this, the more likely we are to get a response.

It took almost four weeks since I first emailed them, but I've finally gotten acknowledgement, as canned as the response is.

[malegains]

So I think a lot of Bing driven AI blogs have fallen off since the NSFW filter went super strict for about 48 hours about nine days ago. Even though it relaxed again, the landscape it left behind was very different. Old tricks didn’t work anymore. But new tricks can be discovered and exploited, and the last few days I’ve been getting my sexiest and most extreme results ever. All the stuff I’ve posted in the las six days has been newly made, not backlog (my backlog is enormous… will I ever clear it? Probably not)

In the interest of community and education, here is an example.

These four images were the result of one submission of one prompt - I didn’t have to wrestle the machine for them at all. The prompt is:

underexposed Polaroid, side view from far away, two Icelandic bodybuilding bros facing each other submerged near a hot spring, enormously muscular, golden light, loving embrace, buzzed blond hair, relaxed, unbelievably enormous muscles, muscle morph, leg muscles like enormous heavy water balloons, enormous muscular arms, high body fat, leaning against each other

Now be warned, this is a bit of a jenga tower. Moving things around too much may break it. I’d recommend writing your own from scratch but stealing specific key phrases, modifying and evolving those, see what works best for you.

Thanks to @thespacewerewolf for the “near a hot spring” trick to get them into a hot spring, and to @zangtangimpersonator for the water balloon / weather balloon comparison trick, which is a Swiss Army knife of a prompt for anyone who likes big round shapes.

This is why I unpinned my old tutorial. The spirit is the same - think of twisty ways to ask for what you want, certain scenario seem way more permissive than others, throwing in random details seems to help, etc etc etc. But the specifics have changed, and the sample prompts I built in a couple old tutorial posts won’t really work now as they did then. Keep evolving your prompts, experimenting, and sharing what works for you.

[feederandfeedee]

In your most recent sets you’ve started to finally look fatter again. Have you been putting in weight recently?

Haha jokes on you 50% of what I post is backlog 🫢 but like honestly I lowkey hate the way this is phrased? like I know yall look forward to me getting fatter but cmon I’ve said this soooo many times weight gain for me is a hot afterthought. I’m in it for the food dawg.

[spadesolace]

the idea of yoo - 1.4. what even is love? (written)

previous | next

“you sure about joining me for this service?” you looked at rei who was also putting her shoes on. nodding in confirmation that she does want to do this.

“i wouldn’t worry much about you being bored. father lee would keep you entertained.”

“why?”

“he says some… out of pocket things.”

rei looks at you confused as you fix her top. the sad smile is still evident in your features but not quite like the weeks before. an entire month, you were busy to say the least; working on backlogs and gaining extra for you and rei - mostly for rei.

the mass was quite the usual, you did have a responsibility for being the pianist to which you have to start looking for a new one.

your gaze travels around the people sitting below, rei is right next to you, looking around the amount of instruments just for you.

there’s jimin… i really messed up.

jimin lost her spark, the same gleam you saw when first meeting had been gone - like a star after a supernova, becoming a black hole. hoping that wasn’t the case for the shining star that is yoo jimin.

yeonjun was late, sitting next to his dad, who had quite the expression for whatever they were talking about. he still looked the same from the day he found out - disappointed, sad, and confused.

deacon yoo became white noise to you, you’ve heard the same message time and time again but you weren’t expecting jeno to stand in front. if rei was bored, this got her attention.

“thank you. love! what is love? love is patient, it is kind. it does not envy nor boast, it is not proud… which is why i love this little lady.”

if the heartbreak from the past month didn’t hurt, what jeno would say next will.

“and why - she’d make me a fantastic wife. Jimin, will you-“

“NO!” 

everyone turns around, yeonjun and jimin finally looks at you after a month. you were hoping not in this way, not letting your emotions get the best of you.

“i- uh- i just wanted to add that…” you maintained eye contact with jimin, within the friendship you had developed with yeonjun within the past months you learned one phrase. fuck it, we ball.

“love is-”

“love isn’t pretending.” yeonjun cut you off, taking a deep breath and a quick glance at deacon yoo then to jimin, looking at him so intently. “i know because i’ve been pretending. only for a few months, but it sucks.”

“yeon…” he’s being careful with his wording - not to cause mayhem in the small chapel. one that would make everyone question life and the little town that is kwangya.

“what sucks more is having to pretend to be - not you - your whole life.” that was directed at you, only yeonjun and rei know about it. 

“my whole life, i thought there was only one way to love, but there’s more. so many more - and i don’t wanna be the guy that stops someone loving… the way they want to love.” the yeonjun you first met months ago wasn’t like this. you knew him as the tall guy with pink hair and dances every now and then. he’s matured, understood where you were coming from, and he accepted it.

deacon yoo cuts him off, assuming this whole fiasco is done and getting ready to bring the attention back to jeno, the star of the show, the golden boy of the town, the one who everyone believed jimin is destined for. within years of observing, you learned one thing from yeonjun and jeno; fuck it, we ball.

“i also have been pretending…” gasps throughout the chapel, deacon yoo has given up at this point.

“i know where this is going, naoi y/n. i’m flattered, really, but you and i wo-”

“jeno, for once in your life - can it. i’ve been writing your assignments for the entirety of high school so stop acting like the hero in this story.” he shuts up, backs away and sits down next to father lee. taking a deep breath, you look back at jimin who has been looking at you for a while now.

“if you’ll forgive me, i will just rewrite you one last time.” you look at yeonjun who finally looks up at you, a sad smile, teary eyes, and flushed cheeks - nodding to let you continue on.

“love isn’t patient, kind, humble… love is messy, deceiving, selfish, and… bold.” jimin is confused as you walk down the stairs from the balcony. rei recording everything that is happening and you just let it.

“it’s not finding your perfect half. it’s about trying and reaching, and failing - despite the effort you put in with no promise of success. love is being willing to try something new.” a quick glance at yeonjun, he smiles at you, urging you to continue on.

“love is admiring your favorite art, despite it being overrated - but despite everyone looking your way and admitting that you are no different from the rest. yet, you are. the good thing about being different is that no one expects you to be like them.” everything finally clicks to jimin, from the letters, your actions, how different yeonjun is compared to the letters and conversations she had with him.

“love is accepting them for who they are despite the deception - making them fall for the idea of you.”

“you.”

“... yeah.”

you hold your breath, jimin makes her way. assuming she’d go after you - slap you, scream even, but no. she walks towards yeonjun, somewhat apologetic eyes and a loud smack was all you heard as she leaves. everything goes into mayhem. you started this.

“AMEN!” father lee shouted as everyone started screaming, fighting, having some bits and pieces of realization. yeonjun and his father talking, you couldn’t hear it but all you could is them hugging each other then the sudden scream from mr. choi.

“ARE YOU INSANE?!” yeonjun turn his head away from his father smacking him in the head, a smile towards you and a thumbs up. mouthing we good? you nod as you sign him to cover his head for another smack from his father.

“come on, let’s get going. that’s enough of this chaotic mess.” rei pulls you out of the chapel, letting the noise die down as you walk out and head on home.

taglist [CLOSED]:

@1luvkarina @beawolfbealionbeyou @pandafuriosa60 @txtbrainrot @rinapomu @limbforalimb @yoontoonwhs @noascats @thefckghost @petruchiosstuff

[maleyanderecafe]

Oh also!! the visual novel M3nticid3 also has a really cute male yandere character, though you only realize he’s a yandere if you get the bad ending too. It was a really surprising twist!

Oh, I did actually see this on tumblr a while back and was planning on playing it (along with my ginormous list of backlog games.) The art style looked fun but boy was I not expecting it to go into that kind of dark territory. It's a pretty fun short game though and I really hope to see more from this creator and world. If you are interested in it please check it out at @gr33n-schema and you can play the game here.

The story starts out with Inari having a flashbacks of sorts. While in New York, the entire world basically went under a bomb attack, with her last memories of her trying to call her dad. The game continues suddenly with an automated screen, telling the patient, Inari to take a morality dilemma test, involving questions relating to various morality questions. After answering them, she wakes up to the two scientists who are observing her. After pretending to swallowing some pills, she is about to go back to her room when suddenly she sees a fight break out between patients. It seems that one of them had some sort of bad reaction with the medication and has started killing other patients and doctors. After the patient is sedated, Inari is sent to a new part of the facility where she is grouped with three other patients: Kzkr, an aloof and a bit rough patient, Oorr, a sedated patient that pretty much lives in a vegetable state and Fefo, a really shy and skiddish patient. After meeting her roommates, she finds a keycard under her gown which she keeps a secret and plans her escape.

We go to the next day at the cafeteria where Inari watches as Fefo gets bullied and drops his food. To prevent Fefo from attempting to eat pizza off the floor, Inari gives Fefo her portion of the food. The two talk about what little they can remember or recall from the outside world, with Inari remembering there is better pizza, though not recalling the specific things relating to it. Oorr gets taken by the scientists to get medication and as the days go on, Inari must take a surpression therapy, essentially repeating phrases from a book. At night, Kzkr talks to Inari about his nightmares that he has, stating it's one of the only things he remembers. The two of them talk about how important memories are despite the ones they remember being bad. The next day, they get jenga and play together. Afterwards, Inri talks to Fefo about his bullying as well as Kzkr's treatments, as he is being drugged, causing him to be much more complacent.

At night, Inari catches Fefo and Kzkr trying to escape, with Kzkr threatening to kill Inari with a makeshift knife if she rats them out. Inari instead tells them off about how their plan won't work without her, and uses her card to get them out and aim for the laundry chute to escape. Thanks to Kzkr's knowledge of the guard schedules, they are able to get down to the basement level no problem. The basement is rather disgusting and Inari even finds mounds of flesh, which are presumed to be discarded patients and a strange being before running back into the group. After checking in the rooms, they come across a strange green triangle that makes them feel painful, before Inari is able to shut it off. While getting lost, Kzkr and Fefo talk to each other and we find out that Fefo has a habit of stealing things, which is why he ends up getting bullied. He ends up even stealing a pair of Inari's panties which she does not appreciate and takes back. In one of the rooms they unlock, they find a map of the facility, but soon after must hide after a giant monster comes into view. They are able to avoid it and head to the kitchen next where they find a shotgun with a single shell. Soon after, the monster comes back and Inari shoots it, only to realize that the monster itself seems to be a patient that has been stitched together with other patients, leading it to be in agonizing pain. They are able to hide in the fridge, but Kzkr ends up getting hurt, and Inari has no choice but to use her panties to help bandage the wound.

After wandering around again, they come across another green sign. After painstakingly unlocking it, they end up in a room with three guards. The guards use a remote to shock collar Oorr. Inari tries to bluff that she'll shoot them with her empty gun, but the guards don't buy it. This leads to Fefo killing and slitting the guards throats, stabbing them multiple times in the process. This is where Inari can either decide to help the others or herself.

If she decides to help herself, she will end up eating the drugs she refused to do so before, leading her into a sedated state. Because of this, Fefo continues to kill and stab the guards long after they're dead. Kzkr tries to stop him, but he turns on him, getting jealous and annoyed at his previous counting to check the guards and how he actually enjoyed life in the facility. He gets incredibly jealous that Inari apparently spent more time with Kzkr than him, even believing that the two slept together when Inari was comforting Kzkr that one night. We learn that the memory that Fefo remembers is killing his bullies, threatening to kill Kzkr the same way, getting angry at Inari touching him and even having her panties wrapped around his wound. All this escalates to Fefo slitting Inari's throat and stabbing him multiple times. Meanwhile, the shocks to Oorr's collar don't stop, eventually leading to his head exploding. Kzkr uses the last of his strength to cuff Fefo to himself so he can't attack Inari, with Fefo having a complete meltdown afterwards. The creature ends up coming due to the noise and killing Fefo, eating his insides. The last one remaining, Inari takes the knife to stab out both of her eyes before dying herself.

If she decides to help the others, she will use the drugs on Fefo, forcing him to swallow them down. Kzkr is able to grab the remote to unlock Oorr's collar and throwing it away before it explodes. Oorr, now finally have shaken off the drugs is able to carry Fefo as the sprinklers go off. The monster starts to go after them and they all flee the facility and outside. They are greeted by the two scientists that aided Inari during the trials, as it seems that they had planned this escape for a long time. They talk about how they are dedicated to stopping the terrorist group, the one that caused the explosions in New York that Inari remembers and they all escape the facility.

I will say that I was not expecting this game to go that dark, especially on the bad ending. The character sprites themselves have a pretty cute look to them, which adds to the charm of the story itself. The whole thing is a cool take on the sort of experimentation and the whole endeavor seems to still be shrouded in mystery. Even based off what we learn in the game, we have no idea why these guys were captured. It's implied that they were taken to use and become terrorists as well, likely bombing other areas too, which is likely what the drugs and the various tests are, but why they chose these specific patients are pretty unknown. We barely know the backstory of most of these characters either or even their real names, much less the strange monster that was found under the facility itself and what's going on with the green light. These kinds of questions are not really related too much the main plot of the story, which is just these four trying to escape the facility, but it does make for pretty cool world expansion, especially since we don't know anything about this terrorist group and it makes me want to learn more. I also wonder if the animal choice will be relevant in the future as well since it does seem to be a specific decision with each type of animal. Like I said, a lot of mysteries that I would love to see more of.

Now let's talk about Fefo. Fefo as a yandere seems to have basically come out of left field, but there are a lot of small hints this was the case even from the beginning. The most obvious one is Fefo stealing things, specifically from Inari, something that he wails and moans about when Inari forces him to give it back to her. In terms of his memories, while we don't really know for certain, it seems that each patient has a core memory that they dream about, as we see with Inari and Kzkr, though they don't tend to be particularly pleasant memories overall. Fefo's memory seems to be of killing his old bullies, making him dangerous indeed. It is ironic that even at current he wasn't even aware he was being bullied until Inari pointed it out. We do see that Fefo does have a crush on Inari in very brief moments, seeing him blush a lot compared to someone like Kzkr, who Inari seems to spend more meaningful time with. Unfortunately for Fefo, Inari seems to be the type of person who finds Fefo annoying, especially since she views him as cowardly most of the time. I think as well Fefo only has a good relationship with Inari out of the three of the other members. I'm not sure if the sudden bloodlust came out of the desire to keep Inari for himself or not, or if it was something he kept inside for a while. It does make me wonder in the good route when he's knocked out by Inari if this yandere behavior will persist in the future, seeing that none of the characters are aware with his obsession with Inari at that point. Kind of fun to think about. The bad ending on the other hand is completely brutal, with Fefo directly or indirectly getting everyone killed thanks to Inari's choice to drug herself. Fefo himself also meets a cruel fate at the hands of the monster who not only guts him but eats his brains as well. How terrible. He is definitely incredibly jealous and capricious, possessive over Inari and the fact that he could try to keep her here in the facility afterwards and completely paranoid. The off the rail yandere action caught me off guard, since besides some brief creepy moments with the panties, he seemed pretty shy and meek, very cute in my opinion. I do like more meek yanderes that turn completely crazy so that kind of stuff is up my alley.

In any case, it's a very good game and something I wish to see more about. It was very interesting doing the various morality tests in the very beginning and seeing how everything unravels, given that the characters themselves are not completely aware of what's going on, only the idea of getting out. I really am excited to see more of this as it comes out!

[gamerdog1]

Deadpool and Wolverine Review

If third time's the charm, Deadpool is the whole goddamn bracelet. I kinda grew up alongside the Deadpool movies. I saw the first one at overnight camp at 16, then saw the second in theaters at 18. Now, at 23, I feel like I've grown as a person, which means I can actually articulate how I feel about these films (though specifically, the newest one). I guess that whole 'wisdom comes with age' thing was right after all.

For starters, Ryan Reynolds absolutely kills it. I know the phrase 'born to play this character' is thrown around a lot, but it really fits here with him. Reynolds once again is a delight as Deadpool, with all his usual snark, pizazz, and heartfelt moments. He's always on point, either with a quick jab at another character, comical reactions, or his character's usual fourth-wall breaks.

He isn't always all happy-go lucky, though. The film, like the previous 2, has a story beyond gratuitous violence, one that centers on Wade Wilson's sense of inadequacy in comparison to other famous heroes. We see how his life has changed since the previous film (go watch that before this, it will not make sense otherwise), both for better and for worse, and watch him continue to grow as a person in a satisfying way. That, I believe, is what separates these movies from other ultra-violent movies of its type: that there is an emotionally-driven story, and it remains important beyond getting characters from setpiece to setpiece.

Though, that's not to say that this is some deep philosophical mediation on the character. Fear not, there's still as much, if not more, violent fight scenes and action here like the previous movies. After all, what would a Deadpool movie be without a few dozen (read: thousand) bad guys to kill, in creative and gorey ways? This film ups the ante, by giving more interesting fight scenes that revolve around different set ups (tower defense, 1v1 in a car, etc) to keep everything visually fresh.

There's never a dull moment in this film. Heart-to-hearts are full of little sneaky one-liners that take a minute to register. Tension between the two leads is thick enough to see, let alone cut with a knife. And all the while, the film keeps bringing in new reveals, fully using the 20th Century Fox backlog of C-listers to call back to this franchise's history, and keep them from fully being forgotten. Add that, with an army of multiverse Deadpools, and you've got yourself a film that even non-comic book nerds like me gush over.

Above all this, beyond the not-quite-irritating-like-most use of the multiverse, or the hundreds of liters of CGI blood shed, this movie did something so profound, I'm still reeling. It made me love Wolverine.

Growing up, Logan always felt like a gross old man type of character. The kind who pressures you to drink at a young age, and owns at least 20 guns that he refuses to part with. Any portrayal of his animal-ness always felt like lip service. But here... its like I've met him for the first time, and now I'm obsessed.

Hugh Jackman has practically been playing this character since I was born, but only here do I really feel like we get to meet Wolverine in full. No longer is he that hunched-over, stoic gruff weirdo that X-Men have around, now he's a deeply emotional character with valid reasoning behind it, and strong motivations. We are finally in an era where tough guy characters are being done justice and allowed to have emotions, and it is glorious.

X-Men Apocalypse gave us a taste of what he could do, but putting Wolverine in an R-Rated movie was the best decision anyone could have ever made. His animal fury is on full display here, and with a higher age rating, ever stab and slice is shown in bloody, glorious detail. Pairing him with another character who can take hits and survive, like Deadpool, was a match made in heaven.

The two are perfect foils, playing off each other in such a satisfying way that had me disappointed when it was all over. Deadpool has worked with bigger, tougher guys in the past, but Wolverine's short temper and guardedness go well with Deadpool's silly, jokester persona. Platonically, romantically, sexually, I don't care. They're meant for each other.

Above all, Deadpool and Wolverine is a loving send off to the studio that made the X-Men film franchise. Its a culmination of all the passion and hard work that went into those movies, and stands as a testament to how far we've come since the first X-Men hit theaters over 2 decades ago. With a film like this as a sample of what's in the future, we won't have anything to fear.

[jennyeverywhereday]

A Special Announcement

Hi guys. Jenny here.

I know — crazy, right? It's not usually me doing these. Spoils the fun, doesn't it? Like hosting your own birthday party. Then again, I've done that. But the point is, there's something I've got to tell you.

Gosh, I don't know where to begin. Change… It's scary, right? Even for a girl like me who's always changing, story to story, world to world.

The short version, I guess, i… I've got a new guy looking after my affairs in this dimension. Bit stuffy, that phrase, but it'll do. Look, this website you're on right now, jennyeverywhereday.com… it used to be run by this bloke I know, Benj. Benj Christensen. The coolest, sweetest guy. He used to make comics about me. I love all my biographers, in every dimension — talk about making a girl feel special! — but he was proper special. Is proper special; he's not dead or anything, don't worry.

Every August 13th, he'd work day and night to collect all your artwork and stories about me, and keep it all organized. Fifteen years he did this. Fifteen. Years. Like I said, proper special.

But everything has its time, even things that go on forever. It comes and goes, waxes and wanes. Last year's JED didn't go quite as planned. After a day's worth of wonderful posts, Benj went to bed and then he never logged back on. Don't worry, he's alright, but… bit of the ol'burnout. Happens to the best of us. I'd never want any of you guys to wear yourselves out in my name.

Benj is better now, but it showed him… it was time. Time to pass the torch. Maybe you'll see him again around here, as an artist, just one more volunteer. I hope so. And you can still say hi. But he'd done his time running this place all by himself.

Hence — the new guy.

Don't worry, he's not dead either. That's just how he draws himself. A skeleton with glasses, wearing a top hat. He couldn't tell me why; he just does that. (You'll be happy to know he does at least own a top hat, but even then, he doesn't wear it much.)

He goes by Aristide Twain, and he's written an awful lot about me, too. Especially that me who's moved in with the Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids. Though he insisted I tell you that in his own opinion, he's not nearly as good at drawing me as Benj was. And he's also in charge of the Jenny Everywhere Wiki, so at this point, it's fair to say I'm all over his resume.

But hey, you'll get to know him soon enough, if you don't already. Just look at him go! He's already been doing some refurbishing around here, spiffing up the FAQs and whatnot. I have an index now! Love an index. It's why I've got two on my hands. Right after you see this message, he'll be running through the backlog from the 2024 JED that halfway-wasn't; better late than never, I always say, especially when you've got infinity ahead of you.

And next August — that sounds so far away, doesn't it? but mark my words, it'll creep up on you — next August, he'll be the one running the sixteenth edition of this lovely little holiday you guys made up about me. Hopefully the first of many, many more, just so long as no one blows up the Earth.

For now, let's say goodbye to Benj, with honor, thanks, and love. There's something fitting about his final transmission, even though he didn't know that's what he was writing. I'd like you to read it again, now. Especially this bit:

I wanted to say a few things before I go. Firstly thank you to everyone who submitted this year. I really appreciate all the interest in our little Jenny and I’m so happy that she’s still out there getting in scraps.

Oh, and also that bit:

Again, thank you to everyone who submitted. You are literally what makes this event possible and I couldn’t keep it going without you.

Right back at ya, Benj! Enjoy your rest; you've earned it!

Shifter, out!

[patchworkcuddlebug]

That one writes so much and so well! This one struggles to make anything longer than 500 words… Does that one have any tips?

Hi Winter!! Thank you so much for such a nice compliment! That one is a cherished mutual and this one values its opinion <3

This one may have... gotten a little carried away with its answer, so here's a cut.

This one has an explanation for the former, but it wouldn't want others to take it as advice.

About a month ago, this one made a post saying it had about 100 drafts of written works waiting to be published. Pretty much all of those came from a rather small two-week span, where this one did nothing (nothing!) but write. This was a very specific context that is not often repeated: it was visiting its family for the holidays, left with literally nothing to do. No chores, no alternative recreation. If it recalls correctly, it wrote about 50,000 words just over that period, and it has been continually adding to this backlog ever since. This likely wasn't healthy, please do not replicate this.

To be clear, this one wasn't just blitzing through pieces one at a time. Any time it was even a little inspired, it would write down a premise. There are many drafts which remain "the kind of doll does this thing" simply because this one hasn't been hit by the drive to develop that particular idea. This one sometimes writes a single 1000-word first draft when it simply feels too driven to stop, but it makes 50-word additions to 5 separate pieces just as often. This is a hobby, perform it however you like. If that one isn't feeling up to a specific part, explain that [ehhh something of partciular note happens here, i want them to dedcide to go to this location and it's this character's idea] so that one can return to it later and develop it when the time is right.

Anyway, to express the whole holiday thing as actionable advice, perhaps literally removing one's self from a distraction would be effective? Closing tabs unrelated to writing, having nothing else scheduled, perhaps literally locked in a room.

But please, that one shouldn't overwork itself! Every writer has a different level of output - Steven King writes 2000 words per day, but Terry Pratchett only wrote 200, and both are authors of great skill and renown. Overexertion and burnout is never worth it, both one's self and (less importantly) their work will be worse off as a result

As for skill, this one... isn't sure how to explain itself. It isn't a very avid reader, outside of what it finds from the empty spaces community (and a certain other... planty one). It took a creative writing class once, but it's afraid it doesn't remember much that it learned, at least not to the degree where it can say "the professor told us to x". This is all more or less self-taught, meaning it's not used to articulating exactly how it goes about deploying its skills.

This one has been complimented on its prose before (thanks everyone!), and this one thinks it helps to consider the narration as an extension of the characters it is depicting. Never to Return depicts emotionally cathartic dominance, so the narration emphasizes Sugar's power over Henri by bringing attention to their physical interactions. It emphasized Henri's reactions specifically, turning from concern to fear to helplessness as her spirit was quickly broken, in a way that emphasized the changes to the reader. If the characters feel something, the narration should be a tonal depiction of it.

There's an aspect of words that can be difficult for this one to convey to others. There's an intuitive understanding of how to make things more punchy and effective in a way that expresses the characters in memorable ways. Like a Person contains some great examples of this. The phrasing of "the doll's legs began to move" brings to attention that the doll does not control itself, and that its actions are what it has been commanded to do. The witch's command for curtsy does not lead to a description of how the doll shifts its position, simply that it is now acting correctly, the lack of connecting action dehumanizing it further. Perhaps this one's favourite example from this work, it doesn't explain with a full sentence that the doll is being scratched; the audience simply sees the word "Scratching", a very sudden and blunt word beginning a paragraph, just as the witch is very suddenly and startlingly initiating the act. Hopefully, if the audience is properly immersed, just the suddenness of the word will cause them to react as the doll does. In short, try to focus on how the construction of a sentence/paragraph evokes a scene's imagery. As for the word choice itself, the simple answer is "if it doesn't feel right, switch out synonyms until it does". Simple words are wonderful for first drafts.

And if that one would like some guidance on how to extend the length of a piece by itself... whenever this one finds one of its own stories to be underwhelmingly short, it starts imagining itself as an audience member who would like to know more. Using The Doll In My Brain as an example, this one actually made a point of seeking out ask games meant for systems as a springboard: thinking about how much the two switched in their daily life, what triggered it, how much they remembered, if they could interact... and the story formed around displaying the answers to those questions. This extends to things such as how a certain character is reacting to new information, how they carry themselves, and anything else that can provide insight on the reason this character is being written about instead of another.

It also helps to have a clearly defined goal for a specific piece. Then one can ask itself exactly how it can go about achieving that goal. For Jettison, this one's goal was to portray some of the more viscerally horrifying parts of dollhood, the ease of disposal and the helplessness of obedience, specifically in an abusive context. Since it was conceived as a horror story first and foremost, nearly everything written was with the specific intent of making the reader feel scared on Luna's behalf. If this one felt a section was lacking or underwhelming, it asked itself how it could contribute to the centrepiece of the story (Stella's fate) to be more gut-wrenching.

In summary:

For how much, remove potential distractions and have a dedicated time (whatever amount with which you are comfortable) to focus on nothing but writing. Do whatever is reasonable, it's not worth it to exhaust one's self to reach an arbitrary number. Follow that one's whims, write what it likes, act on whatever inspiration it has in the moment. If it doesn't want to draft a part beyond a bare description, leave a bare description and return later. Please, write whatever it wants.

For how well, always keep the audience in mind. Explain things in a way that will cause them to react how that one wants them to, paying attention to the words it uses and how it uses them. Answer their questions before they can be asked. Plan out what that one's goal for a piece is, what emotions it wants the audience to feel, what conclusions it would like to express, what it needs to say, and use words as a tool to reach that goal by any means necessary.

This one hopes this was helpful! Thank you so much for the ask, this one is looking forward to the art you create!

[poll-boy]

hello i am poll boy!

Please submit any questions you want to see answered!

i have a backlog of requests and don’t post that many polls in a day, so there is no set time in how long it will be until your request is posted

anyone being mean/condescending/whatever in comments or reblogs will be deleted and/or blocked. this is for fun and i only want positivity in my space.

Info on submitting polls below.

• This blog is exclusively polls, with no theme. A lot of the polls are just random shit i think about, and can can be about anything!

Tags: “nsfw” | “nsfw poll” | “tw” | “mental health” | “mental health poll” | 18+ poll

if there are any other polls that should be tagged, let me know!

More about submitting polls:

• tumblr gives a limit of 12 on answers, each with an 80 character limit, so please stay within that

• Please phrase your request as a question. If you say one word i won’t know what to post!

• If you want a poll to be scheduled for a certain time (for example a halloween poll) , let me know!

• I only include results buttons when needed, so the button may be added/omitted depending on the question.

• I may phrase your question differently or add answers in order to make the question more straightforward, and the poll more accurate.

• I may not post your request if it’s something i’m uncomfortable with, or that I think will cause arguments.

Examples:

• I will remove a results button from a poll like “have you ever eaten pizza” ,because it is a yes or no question, and not something that someone may be uncomfortable answering.

• If someone submits a poll like “favorite album by ____” with only the options for albums, I will add a button for “don’t like any/haven’t listened” in order for the results to be more accurate.

• A request with confusing wording like “at a party have you ever only drank drinks that are not alcohol?” will be changed to something like “have you ever been to a party and only drank non alcoholic drinks?”

•If you add more than 12 answers, or the answers have more than 80 characters I will either not post the poll, or remove answers.

• A request with an unclear question will be deleted. So sending something like “dogs” will be deleted, as the question could be about a number of things.

— All of the above situations are modified (different topics) versions of requests I’ve gotten, so they are for clarification!

[starwritingbri]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @theblueeyedfirebender!! I appreciate it! 💙💙

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

42! (And I have a backlog of at least 10 unpublished things I'm working on)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

667,317

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Predominately, I wrote for Lockwood and Co, but recently I dipped my toes into Fullmetal Alchemist because I've had so much inspiration to work with.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lucy's Letters

I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside

No grave can hold my body down

How to be a Heartbreaker

Coming Home to a Forgotten Melody

All Lockwood and Co fics, which tracks for now 😂

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely! I always stress that my responses to comments aren't enough, but I appreciate comments so much that I absolutely want to show some of that gratitude and interact.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Most of them Somewhat kidding. I do tend to lean into an angsty ending only because you know what will come to pass if it's canon compliant, I don't feel the need to rehash it. The angstiest so far is probably she lost her sense of light, she has to hold my hand. Main Character Death will do that, but I think a whumptober fic I've got ready for Day 2 will end up topping this.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'd say a toss up between Melody and I'll Be Home for Christmas.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Once or twice, but I have a good support system. Fic hate is so wild to me because it's free work people do out of pure joy for the material. If you don't like something, just don't read it? And if you're a new writer who received hate, don't let them stop you. Someone in the world will love your story and a hater says more about that person than it does about you!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have ONE smut fic. Just the one. I've wanted to try a couple other times, most recently for smutober, but it's just not something I really enjoy doing. I just enjoy writing other things more, personally. Power to those who can/do!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not really? Like, I'll put the characters in a different world, but I haven't written a true crossover yet.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so, but who knows? There's so much content out there.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not really, aside from a friend helping with some French phrases on a fic, but I'd be so down for it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet!!! But Bugs and I have been prepping (and she's actually managed to write some one shots) on a FMAB Soulmate AU we're planning. I'm super excited for that, and would definitely be open to working with other writers too!

14. What is your all-time favorite ship?

I don't know if I can definitively say a favorite ship, but let me tell you, my favorite ship dynamic is very clear. Couple who have copious trauma, are absolutely soulmates in every sense, but they never kiss in canon.

Royai, Locklyle, Kanej

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Gahhhh, I want to say I have every intention to finish all my fics, because I really want to, but that Harry Potter fic that was my first ever dive into fanfic... I love the character I made and how the plot of the story grew. I know how it's supposed to end. But just...HP, right? It's hard to want to go back with everything that has happened with the author and all that jazz. So it's probably never going to be finished, and that does make me sad.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Metaphors, I've been told. I think I'm also good at creating emotion with my work and bringing humanity into what I'm writing.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

How much time do we have..... Kidding, but it can be really hard to uplift your work and really easy to tear it down. I know I can get long winded, I feel like I've got phrases I overuse or that characters end up sounding the same. I'm going to stop myself before I end up absolutely unraveling my confidence here.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I did this once, and it was difficult. I ended up having a friend offer to translate for me after she read it because it came off stilted and she's a native speaker. Bless her. I would love to do more because language has always fascinated me, I just don't have the ability myself to do it the justice it deserves.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The usual for someone my age - Harry Potter. I still have a soft spot for it getting me into fanfic and helping me write even when I didn't have a lot of ideas going on.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is so hard, but I think it has to be Coming Home to a Forgotten Melody because I'm just so proud of it. It was a NaNoWriMo fic, and I wrote like 93k words in a month. Fun fact: I've fully edited it myself to be an original work. It's been looked at fully by a couple friends and then it's with one last person with a couple chapters left before I can start shopping for agents 🙈

Going to tag: @luckylolabug, @lenacarstairspotterstewart, @polithicc, and anyone else who'd want to do it! This was fun!

[b-blushes]

august '23 songs woo yay! in no particular order

2 Baddies - NCT 127

Bubble - StayC

Strawberry Sunday - NCT DOJAEJUNG

Designer - NCT 127

Our Season - ZEROBASEONE

CAKE - ITZY

Vitamin - NCT 127

Our Summer - TOMORROW X TOGETHER

Kidult - SEVENTEEN

#menow - fromis_9

Perfume - NCT

Can I - Lee Junho

And I - ZEROBASEONE

Bye My Neverland - KISS OF LIFE

Pink Venom - BLACKPINK

Do It Like That - TOMORROW X TOGETHER & Jonas Brothers

One More Last Time (feat. Ashley Alisha) - Henry Young

Broken Melodies - NCT DREAM

Rose Blossom - H1-KEY

this post is pinned so i can reblog it every month with the music i've been listening to WAHOO!!! (it is mostly kpop tbh - i hope any expectations have been adjusted appropriately :P)