#i'll stop feeling the need to scrap the entire story...

[glowingreverie]

.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Can you PLEASEEE write a Hero x Villain only one bed trope! Love ya

"Did you know that single people, on holiday, often pay more than couples because all of the hotel industry is built around the assumption of shared rooms and beds?"

The villain turned their attention from the double bed, the only bed in the room, and back to the hero. They blinked. Once, slow, deliberate.

The hero's met their gaze. "Down with amatonormativity?"

"You're sleeping on the floor."

"Oh, come on. It's not my fault! This is the only room they had."

"You're a hero. Be heroic and heroically take the floor."

"I'm not sure my being a good person extends that far," the hero said, eyeing said floor. "There's not even any carpet."

"Well, we can't share!"

"Only child, huh?"

"Don't fish for information about me."

The hero's lip twitched with a maddening and entirely too endearing amusement. "If you're worried about me attacking you in your sleep, I don't think my being on the floor is going to save you."

"I don't think - it's not that -" The villain felt colour rise up their face. They folded their arms. "It's not weird that I don't want to share a bed with you."

The hero's head tilted, studying them for a long moment, before they shrugged. "Fine. Bed's yours. I'll grab the chair."

The villain eyed the chair. It only looked fractionally more comfortable than the floor; less hard, but also significantly more cramped given the hero was hardly small.

"So, what," they demanded. "You'd be just fine sharing with me?"

"It's just a bed," the hero said. "I'm going to be unconscious, all things going well."

"What if we accidentally end up touching each other?"

"I already said you could have the bed."

"Well, now I feel bad!" the villain snapped. "I'm taking the chair. I don't need more reasons to encourage your sanctimonious attitude!"

With that, they strode into the small shared bathroom to change and firmly locked the door.

When they returned, the hero had already fetched a spare blanket from the cupboard. It was large-enough, if a little worn. They'd squished themselves onto the chair.

"I said I'm taking the chair," the villain said. "My god. Do you have to win at everything?"

"I know I got us into this mess."

The villain stopped short, not expecting the quiet words.

"I can take the chair," the hero said. "Not being sanctimonious. It's really just fine, okay? I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or whatever."

The hero looked up at them, with an expression that the villain couldn't quite read. Whatever it was seemed earnest.

The villain swallowed.

They got into the bed, on the side furthest from the hero and the chair. They switched the lights off. They heard the hero shift and shuffle, trying to get comfortable. The villain could see the beautiful curve of their face illuminated in a small shaft of moonlight, the hunch of their shoulders, when they glanced over.

The villain glared at the dark ceiling for several long minutes.

"...Just get in the bed."

"What?"

"Get in. We can share."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me say it again. You look ridiculous. Like a lion trying to fit into a shoebox."

"If it fits, it sits."

"Well, you obviously don't fit!"

A brief silence passed, before the villain heard the hero move and felt the mattress dip. The hero kept to the far side of the bed, oh so respectfully, but the villain could still feel every inch of space between them. They folded their arms across their chest.

"Would it help to tell me what you're worried is going to happen?" the hero asked.

"No."

"Okay."

Another brief silence passed. "Is the thought of accidentally touching me really that hideous to you?" the hero asked.

Their voice was different in the darkness. Softer, somehow.

"Is the thought of accidentally touching me really that hideous to you?!"

"No?" the hero sounded bewildered. "I never said it was?"

The villain ground their teeth, even as their stomach gave a stupid little flip. "Just shut up and go to sleep."

"Goodnight."

The villain couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever wished them that. It caught them unexpectedly, in the gut and the throat. Winded. Fatal wound.

They glanced over at the hero again. They had their eyes closed, seeming perfectly at ease now that they were no longer scrunched up.

No. It wouldn't be hideous to touch them, not at all. It wouldn't be ghastly at all to roll across the expanse of mattress and wrap their arms around the hero's stupidly broad body, to nestle their face against the hero's shoulder, to hold the solidness of them.

Accident-smachident. The villain hated everything.

The hero fell asleep within ten minutes. The villain listened to the steady metronome of their breath, aching. Three hours later, the hero made a soft sleepy little sound and rolled, nuzzling their head against the villain's chest. A tangle of limbs.

The villain snagged their phone off the side table and held it up to take a selfie, making sure to look as unimpressed as possible. Just in case. For the morning. So the hero would know they didn't start it.

Then, and only then, did they finally melt and fall into the sweetest sleep they'd had in a long time.

Bonus:

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Out of Darkness - Chapter Five: Promises - Alastor x human!fem!reader

Hello~~ You wouldn't believe how difficult this chapter was to write. Initially, I had a completely different idea, wrote it down entirely, but scrapped it because I didn't like it. Then, I almost finished this chapter when I learned an important lesson about saving your work while writing on the phone… So, I hope it turned out at least acceptable. If you find Alastor a bit off and don't enjoy it, please let me know. Sometimes I might write him in a better light, I guess haha. Enjoy reading, loves <3Go to the table of contents.

Words: ~4080 TW: swearing, angst with happy ending

(Y/n) was walking back home, the empty streets covered by the dark of the night, making her almost run to the safety of her house. She held her phone to her ear, listening to portions of Brenda's stories about her day, still aware of her surroundings.

"Anyway, she's a bitch..." Brenda ended the long story about one of her coworkers who keeps hitting on her boyfriend. "You listening?"

(y/n) snapped out of her trance, realising that her mind was wandering off indeed, and it wasn't only because of her fear of getting kidnapped. "Yeah, I just... I try to be aware of what's happening around me, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. But you know what would've been great? If your boyfriend would've picked you up from David's, not let you wander off alone, especially knowing that you're uncomfortable doing so." a slight annoyance was present in Brenda's voice. (Y/n) sighed. It wasn't the first time Brenda or David warned her about Alastor.

"He's not my boyfriend, Bren."

"Oh, yeah. Because you've been taking it slow for the past few days. Too slow."

"And what's so wrong about it?" (y/n) said back, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Oh, no, girl, don't take me wrong. It is great to take it slow. But not when you're the only one who seems to try." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow at her statement, not understanding what she meant.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on! He doesn't call, he doesn't show up at your door, he doesn't ask you on dates. It's like... He's not even trying to take it slow at this point, he just straight up tries to ignore you, but you always come back."

(Y/n) froze for a bit, thinking about her words. As much as she wanted to say the girl was wrong... she wasn't. Alastor never reached out to her, but he never declined her offers either.

"Ok, but then why did he never reject me?" (y/n) asked, mostly trying to convince herself that Brenda was wrong. "He could've just said no."

"Girl, you saved his life. He probably feels guilty to turn you down, but goddamit, you need to stop!" Brenda sighed, trying not to hurt her friend. She was never the sensitive type, but she has always been straightforward when helping a friend. For this reason, (y/n) always appreciated her. "I don't want to seem a bitch, but I'm saying this for you... I hope I'm wrong because I can tell you really like him, but you should stop being so clingy."

"So what should I do?" (y/n) asked as she entered her apartment.

"First, stop calling him. No calls, no texts, no asking out, nothing." Brenda told her, her voice demanding and confident. "Second, if he does in the end reach to you, you do not answer. Not immediately, at least. Maybe wait a few hours... or better - days. And obviously, it also depends on the reason he's calling. What do you do if he asks you on a date in the park?"

"I say yes?" (y/n) asked, curious if she was right or wrong.

"Wrong!" Brenda cut her off before she could even finish. "You say 'I don't know yet. I'll let you know later.'"

(y/n) chuckled at how silly this conversation seemed.

"Don't laugh! Now, on the other hand, if, after all these days of not doing anything, he asks you to lend him 20 dollars, what do you do?"

"I say I'm not in town?"

"Bravo!" Brenda said proudly. "You need to keep him on his toes. Or else, he will think you're a little puppy who's willing to do everything."

"I see, Bren. Thank you. I need to go. We talk later?"

"Sure. Oh, and (y/n)?" Brenda started, (y/n) humming in response. "I know things between you and Mark didn't work out and it altered your brain, making you see things differently than the rest of the world..." (y/n) smiled softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "But you're wonderful. And you deserve someone who cares about you. So don't settle for less just because. Trust me, been there." the girl said softly, a side of her that didn't always come to light.

"Thank you... Means a lot. I love you!" (y/n) said and hung up, sitting down on the couch. Her eyes got a bit watery as she thought about what Brenda said. She was right. She threw herself at Alastor, without thinking.

So, she didn't call him and just waited. A day passed, then two, then five and, eventually, a week. There was no sign of Alastor. Not a single text or call. Nothing.

"Nothing?" a text message from Brenda appeared on (y/n)'s phone. She grabbed the phone, her eyes puffy after she's been crying the whole day. She's acted like a fool, giving him everything he needed and now he left her like an old carpet.

"no" she hesitantly texted Brenda, who answered back almost instantly.

"Well, fuck him. Wanna talk?"

(Y/n) didn't want to talk. She wanted to go see him, scream at him, telling him he was a dick. But she had to stay home and move on. They weren't even dating, so why did she care so much?

"gotta clean the apartment. We'll talk later." (y/n) answered and got up. She wasn't exactly lying. The apartment was a mess and she had to do something that would take her mind off this entire thing.

She cursed the day he showed up at her doorstep. She didn't even want to help him at first...

She didn't tell Alastor the whole story of their meeting. Yes, she wanted to do something good, but it's no one's first choice to bring a stranger into their apartment so late at night, especially if they're a woman living alone.

Truth was she came back from work at around nine, finding him there. Drunk people looking for warmth in apartment buildings were nothing uncommon around there, so the police didn't always interfere, simply saying "They will wake up and leave".

She started knocking on the doors of the neighbours that she knew, not wanting to disturb the entire building with her problems. No one answered, making her believe they were either at work or asleep since some of them were old people.

So she called David and waited outside for anyone to come so she could ask for help. No one. Not a single person showed up. She stood there for one hour and no one appeared in sight. Eventually, freezing and knowing that it would take another hour for David to come, she returned to her door, seeing the passed man still in the same position.

Something that night made her do it. Something begged her to let him inside. Maybe it was her consciousness, telling her that if the man died, it would be her fault, or maybe it was just a moment of recklessness... but she brought him in, covering him with a blanket and turning the temperature extra-high just so he wouldn't die. And look where that brought her...

She wanted to cry, not only because of him but because of her too. She was an idiot. She should've kicked him out as soon as he woke up. Why did she care? If he died, she would've never found out anyway.

And she did think about it. That night, the night before and many nights after. Why did she care if he died? Maybe because most of the time that's how human nature worked. It makes us feel sympathy for others. Or maybe because she would constantly ask herself why the man at the club cared. He could've pretended he didn't see anything or take her home and do something worse. But he didn't. He helped her and asked for nothing in return. They didn't even knew each other's names.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her eyes fell on the little music box Alastor gifted her in the past days - they were walking in the park, passing by a lady selling some old decorative stuff. She could tell he liked it the moment he heard the enchanting, soft music, seeing the little ballerina elegantly spin until the song would stop.

She didn't have money on her that day but planned on buying it for him. But despite her plan, he was the one who gave it to her. She looked at him, her eyes wide. "But... I thought you liked it. Why are you giving it to me?" she had asked him. He smiled at her.

"Yes, dear. I liked it. It is very beautiful and unique. That's why I wanted you to have it."

Tears flooded her eyes and without thinking she got dressed and stormed out of the door. She was angry and she needed explanations. She wasn't gonna sit there crying while he was probably out there partying and sleeping around in the apartment she'd found him with the money from a job she helped him get. Adrenaline fueled her veins, her brain only concentrated on what she was going to tell him. She didn't care that it was cold anymore, she didn't care it was so late at night either.

All of her frustrations rushed to her. She was thinking about how she didn't say anything when she found Mark with her friend having sex, how she didn't get to see the faces of those men at the club when the police took them into custody... Without her will, she needed to take it out.

(Y/n) arrived way too quickly to his place, stopping in front of the door. For a moment, she just stood there, contemplating on what she should do. She took a deep breath and knocked a few times, but no answer. Without thinking, she tried on the doorknob, realising the door was opened. As the door slowly opened with a loud creaking noise, strong smell of paint and stale air engulfed her, almost forcing a choke out of her.

She cautiously entered, a dim light coming out from the room. Upon entering, she froze in the doorway, the scene in front of her seemingly ripped out of a murder documentary. A few candles were lit and the floor was full of paint coming out of a knocked can. There were many broken glass pieces and fallen books or objects. And on top of this scene, there was Alastor, casually sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked away from her, almost as if she wasn't there in the first place.

"Alastor...?" she hesitated, a bit taken aback, her courage long gone. She looked for a moment behind her, making sure she left the door open just in case. The atmosphere felt so heavy, almost as if she was in a horror movie. "What happened?" she asked, stepping a bit closer, waiting for his reaction.

"I tripped and fell." He said after a short pause that actually felt much longer. (Y/n)'s anger came back, clearly seeing through his lies.

"You think I'm an idiot?" she asked, saying it a bit more aggressive than she would've liked. Alastor chuckled at her question, drinking the remains of the whiskey in one sip. He looked up at her

"No, dear, I don't think that," he said and his gaze turned away from her again. "But you're quite the gullible one, aren't you?"

Alastor said the last part mostly to himself, not really meaning for her to hear it, but she did. (Y/n)'s eyes watered at his words.

"You are such a dick..." she said through her teeth and walked towards the door.

Alastor's eyes widened slightly at her tone. He hadn't expected her to confront him like this.

"Wait!" he called out. His voice was a little louder than before, a hint of panic in it. (Y/n) stopped, despite her better judgment, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

Alastor took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on her back. For some reason, the thought of her walking away and never coming back made his heart clench in his chest.

He stood up from the couch, taking a few steps closer to her. "Please... don't leave," he said, his voice low and soft.

She slowly turned to face him. He looked changed. His once tidied-up and always-on-point appearance was now dishevelled. His hair was a mess, greasy strands covering his forehead and his clothes were dirty, full of dry paint.

"Why wouldn't I? Do you need anything else? A bigger house? Maybe a car?" she said, sarcasm filling her tone. "But don't you worry! I will give them to you so you can dismiss me again, right?"

Alastor flinched at her words, the sarcasm in her tone hitting him like a dagger. He clenched his jaw, his usually calm demeanour faltering for a moment. "You don't understand..." he said, the words coming out sharper than he intended.

(Y/n)'s anger and boldness grew with every second. "No, Alastor, I don't!" she spat the words at him. "I don't understand why, after everything I did, you couldn't at least call to tell me to leave you the fuck alone it that's what you wanted. I think I deserved at least that!"

Alastor’s mask of composure slipped, his expression darkening. "I never asked you to do anything for me, did I?" he snapped, his voice now laced with irritation. "You decided to help me on your own."

He took a step closer to her, almost towering over her. "So don’t act like I owe you anything."

You know what?” She said, her voice low and serious. “You’re right.” She admitted to him, looking into his eyes, trying her best not to cry right there.

“I wish I kicked you out that night right after you woke up, Alastor.” She told him and stormed off the door, shutting it with force behind her. Alastor stood there, dumbfounded, as he watched her storm out.

The sound of the door slamming echoed through his empty apartment, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

He leaned against the wall, his expression a mixture of anger and frustration. He knew he messed up, but his pride didn’t allow him to admit it, to go after her. He walked into his living room, the silence surrounding him like a suffocating fog, he heard her parting words echoing in his mind.

'I wish I kicked you out that night...'

He clenched his jaw, his fists balled up in irritation. He should have been the one saying this. He should’ve been the one to dismiss her. But somehow, the tables had turned and she had the upper hand. And it frustrated him to no end. She was the reason he didn’t leave in the first place and now she’s mad at him.

Alastor growled in annoyance. She had no right to be mad at him! It wasn't his fault. He didn't ask for her help, and he certainly didn't ask her to keep checking up on him.

He clenched his teeth, the rage in him now boiling over. "Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the door she had slammed shut. He should just let her go, forget about her. She was a mere human, after all. Alastor was not. He had much more important things to focus on.

But he found himself unable to do that. He was irritated, yes. But the thought of her being out there, alone and upset, sent a sense of unease creeping up his spine.

And so, he sent one of his shadows to follow her, roaming the earth to look for her. He paced the room, minutes feeling like hours, his uneasiness stopping slightly when the shadow returned.

"Well?" he asked, his voice betraying a note of impatience.

The shadow nodded, the confirmation Alastor was waiting for. He didn't say a word, but a small wave of relief washed over him.

"Take me to her," he said quietly. Alastor followed the shadow as it led him to the park they used to walk in. His steps were firm and confident, but his mind was swirling with a mix of emotions.

He saw her sitting on a bench, shoulders slumped, head bowed. She was crying. This sight sent a pang of guilt through him. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like that he was the cause of her crying.

Alastor approached her, a coil in his stomach forming with every step. She noticed him and quickly looked away, ignoring him as he sat down next to her. Her nose and cheeks were red from the cold and she was trembling, trying to keep her already pale hands at least a little bit warm.

"You're cold," he noted, his voice unusually soft. He wanted to scold her, maybe even reprimand her for storming out like that. But seeing her like this made him hesitate.

“I’m not.” She quickly said, still not looking at him

Alastor rolled his eyes at her childish reply. "Don't lie. I can hear your teeth chattering from here." he retorted, but there was no real bite to his words.

“Why do you care?” She asked, her voice barely audible.

Alastor frowned at her question, his irritation growing. "I don't." he lied, his voice sharp. He was not about to admit the truth of why he was here. How could he admit it when even he couldn’t understand? Why was he here to check on her, after he just ignored her? He was Alastor. Not some lovesick puppy. He turned his head away from her, the silence between them thick and uncomfortable.

“Then leave…” (y/n) eventually said. “I’ll be fine. David will pick me up.” She was in fact lying. She didn't want to call David. Not anyone for that matter. She wanted to be left alone.

Alastor clenched his jaw, his irritation growing as he knew she was bluffing and lying about the ride. He could read her like an open book.

"I don't care if David picks you up or not," he said, his voice harsh. "But I'm not leaving you out here all alone in this cold." (Y/n) got up, harshly looking at him.

“You know what? Do you want to be even? Fine!” She shouted. “You saved me from freezing to death! Thank you! Now we’re even! Now leave me the fuck alone!” Her eyes were red and swollen from the crying, tears still flooding them. She walked away, but Alastor quickly got up and grabbed her arm, his grip firm.

With a low growl, Alastor reached out and gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes bored into hers, anger and... worry burning into them.

"You're coming with me," he stated firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

(Y/n) wanted to protest, but she didn’t. She wanted to pull back when he grabbed her hand, leading her away from the bench, but she didn’t. She was tired, cold, angry…

He stopped a cab and opened the door for her, following her inside.

As the cab rattled to life, Alastor silently looked at (y/n). He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the anger still simmering just below the surface. The ride was quiet, the tension between them palpable. When they finally reached her place, he followed her up the stairs, his hand still gripping her arm firmly.

Alastor immediately let go of her as soon as they entered the apartment, the sudden lack of warm skin against his hand sending an unexpected jolt through him.

He looked around the apartment, his eyes taking in the familiar surroundings. Everything was just as he remembered it. Organized and tidy. Peaceful.

“I expect you to leave as soon as possible.” She coldly said to him as she took her shoes off, keeping her gaze away from him.

Alastor bristled at her cold tone and the way she avoided his gaze. He had half a mind to just turn around and leave without a word, but something kept him there.

"You really want me to leave?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability he didn’t mean to show.

She sighed, tears refusing to come out anymore, but the feeling of wanting to cry was still there. “I am nothing to you, Alastor… why would I want you to stay?”

Alastor's heart clenched upon hearing her words. He wanted to deny it, tell her she was wrong. But he couldn’t. It was a fact he had reminded himself of countless times.

He was a selfish being. A demon. He didn’t have any room for a human in his life. Not even her.

But then, why was he here? Why was he so bothered by the thought of her crying? After a few moments of silence, Alastor finally spoke up, his voice quieter than before. "Sit down," he instructed her, making his way to the couch. She followed without protesting, hugging her knees to her chest as she sat down.

Seeing her like this made Alastor's heart skip a beat. She seemed so small and vulnerable. He looked away from her. He could feel her eyes on him, waiting for him to speak. He hated the silence, the tension. He wanted to say something, anything. But words eluded him.

What was he supposed to say anyway? Sorry? Sorry for dismissing her? For ignoring her? For treating her like a nuisance, a burden even though she has only ever helped him?

(Y/n) sighed, getting ready to get up, knowing that this would lead them nowhere.

"I'm not good with emotions and feelings," he finally said, his voice coming out soft and quiet, making her stop in her tracks. He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I've never been good at them. I don't know how to deal with them. I don't know how to deal with you..."

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow at his words. As much as she hated it, she still… felt some sympathy for him. She was hoping he’d say something awful, just so she would not be able to forgive him, just so she would have a reason to kick him out.

“With… me?” She asked.

Alastor sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Yes, you," he confirmed, his voice growing taut with irritation.

He hated this. Hated this feeling of vulnerability, of being open and honest about his emotions. It was so unlike him.

"You're different." he continued, finally looking at her. "You always have been. You make me…" he trailed off, the words getting caught in his throat. He wanted to tell her she made him feel things he had never felt before. That she was unlike anyone he had ever met. That she had somehow weaselled her way into his heart, making it beat in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. The words were there, at the tip of his tongue, but they died before he could say them out loud.

He felt her warm hand suddenly resting on him, his whole body almost burning at the sensation. He pulled it away as a reflex, making her do the same.

"Sorry... I'm not used to... being touched so suddenly like this," he said, his voice so quiet. He looked at her, a pink blush spreading on her cheeks as she fidgeted her fingers. He noticed that at her. Whenever she was anxious she would do this. Slowly, he reached back for her hand, her eyes widening at the interaction.

"I'm sorry... I..." he started, not really finding the words. "I really don't want to make you suffer." he squeezed her hand slightly.

"You keep saying this, Al... But I don't get it... Hurt me how?" she asked him. He sighed, caressing the skin with his thumb.

"I can't open up, (y/n)... I was not used to this kind of things... My father..." he stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. What was he doing...?

She squeezed back his hand. "Alastor... If you want this... I am willing to wait."

He looked at her, a genuine look on her face. He knew she didn't understand... He knew she would never understand but... Alastor also knew there was no way he could leave, not now.

His instincts acted in a weird way around her. He felt the need to protect her, to be with her.

"I do..."

Tags: @silence-burns, @ratsematary

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[ddarker-dreams]

I ASPIRE TO WRITE LIKE YOUUUUU UGUGUHHHHGUGHHGHHGHGHHGGHHHHHH I CAN'T STOP DEVOURING YOUR WORKS PLEEEEASE HOW DO YOU WRITE SO ELOQUENTLY YET SO CHARISMATICALLY?? PLEASE SHARE YOUR WISDOM, GREAT ONE!!😭🙏

PLSSSSSSS thank you so much,, i feel undeserving of such high praise 🥺 ...

i'm not entirely sure how my writing style came to be hjiegrjw lots of practice, i guess?? i consider what i want to get across in any story, whether it's a snippet or full-fledged series, then work around that. all that experience has made me familiar with my most effective storytelling methods.

my writing process basically looks like this:

initial idea

brainstorming about the idea (what are the character's positions? if they're at conflict, how do they express it? what's their body language, their word choice? etc etc)

open the accursed google docs and either:

(a) start at the beginning of the story, specifically what context the reader needs and drawing them into the Vibe. also equally important is knowing what information not to provide the reader, so they're left wanting to unravel what is going on.

(b) start smack dab in the action. structure comes later. lean into the excitement of the cool idea. context be damned, go ham.

in both cases, when i feel like i'm getting stuck, i come back to it later if it feels like it's grinding the entire process to a halt. i'll underline the segment, write a description of what it is i'm going for, then keep chugging along.

🚄 continue chugging until i can't anymore. exit google doc.

daydream about the story literally nonstop until i can work on it again, looking at things with a fresh lens in the days that follow the initial draft.

i make a few copies of the draft and try out different ideas, scrapping and adding as i go.

(here's an example of what this looks like, chap 4 and 5 of nexus had multiple versions with differences throughout until i landed on something i liked)

reread 458729x times and nitpick over smaller things like word choice, clean up dialogue to make it more fitting to the character

pray

huh . this is actually more convoluted than i thought. i'm not entirely sure if this will be helpful or not, messy as it is... but it is an unfiltered look into whatever tf my process is.

[erinwantstowrite]

erinwantstowrite on tumblr dot com how do you get the motivation to plan & outline & write & finish ur fics

well, anon on tumblr dot com, motivation comes in waves, and i've simply learned how to ride it

we're all in different boats of many colors, shapes, designs, and sails, so we all have different ways to ride our waves safely, creatively, and while having fun. my methods might not work for you (i hope they do!) but they could give you an idea. however, there are basic fundamentals that every sailor (writer) should know:

taking care of yourself, body and mind

going outside to enjoy the sun and live and breathe

taking time to learn new things

outside of the box thinking

your motivation will come to you better when you figure out what helps you feel good. create a schedule or set out a certain time of day to write, and don't beat yourself up if you find that your writing isn't coming to you on certain days. it'll come back, it always does

when planning, i like to use notebooks. i have two notebooks (so far) for LoF, notebooks for my original works, etc. I treat them like it's an extension of my brain (or like a journal). it has all my brainstorming, lists and facts, timelines, calendars, etc. i have research notes in here too! the notebook is a conglomeration of everything all together, and some things don't end up looking pretty or end up in the fic at all

outlining is different. outlining is taking your brainstorms, figuring out what is "needed" to drive the plot forward, what is "wanted" to fill in spaces between plots (example: i wanted tim and peter to meet, and i decided it makes the most sense if tim was stalking him, and what was needed for the plot was for tim to figure things out from that conversation). put it in a chronological order and try to make it read like an episode or "mini-book" each chapter, if you can. no pressure on that last part.

your outline will constantly change (think like how the wind and currents in a boat could shift and you have to adjust so you can get where you're going). do not fret about it, just continue forward. make a new outline with your new ideas, reflect and keep the old one around. you might scrap a scene and then find out you can fit it in somewhere else later on

when writing, you want to know what you can handle within a day. on average, i can set aside 80 minutes a day, and write about 2000 words. but it entirely depends on my mood, if i slept right, if i have plans that day, etc. sometimes i write 2000, other times i write 20 or nothing at all. do not push yourself to write every day or write a certain word count, it will come to you naturally. you'll also get better over time and with practice, and when you find and get comfortable with your writing style, you'll be able to make your plans, outlines, and write with no problem at all

and with finishing... i'll admit that i have an issue with that. i find that endings are the most important part of a story, and sometimes i don't want it to end. but alas, it must. endings are never "endings", because there will always be a set up to what comes later, even if you don't write it. you want your characters to finish their arc, but also have room for growth once the reader has stopped following their journey. it's satisfying to get to that end and see your characters off. it's on you to figure out your way over that hill

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. I also gave him some anxiety and stuff because while he’s in love he doesn’t believe someone could love him back. He just has a lot of uncertainty with romance. Mawwiage happens. Alcohol is mentioned. Everyone’s having a good time. A/N: The epilogue! Enjoy. I am not done with these two in the sense I'll do more one-shots and the likes for them as well as AUs with Buggy's older sister and The Wives. Thank you to everyone who's been reading this! Enjoy!

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Epilogue

The marriage was far from perfect.

Your first actual fight showed Buggy you were capable of not speaking to him for an entire week. It was regarding one of Mohji’s animals, a bear that fell ill and passed away. You had been upset for both the loss of the animal and Mohji; the boy loved that bear so much. All Buggy suggested was that you not… cry so much over it. That was it, suck it up and move on. It was just a bear.

He was on his knees begging for your forgiveness by the end of the week.

Then there was the time you accidentally cut up his favorite shirt. He had left it for days on the scrap fabric pile you collected in the bedroom and asked him many times if he was sure that shirt needed to be there. He had insisted it was, but a week after you cut it up into scraps to patch some of the crew’s clothes, Buggy asked about it. You both needed to work on more than verbal communication.

And a few years into the marriage, Buggy was feeling less like you were going to leave him for every person who talked to you that he was pretty relaxed - a little too relaxed because for your birthday he took you to a pub, got a little drunk, and made a comment about how hot the barmaid was. You weren’t mad, more amused by it, but when you reminded him the next day when he sobered up what he said, he was mortified.

You were leaving him for sure for that, he was certain of it.

On his birthday you disappeared for a day on an island you begged to be dropped off at. Buggy caved, wanting to do anything for you in hopes you would forget how he acted like an ass on your birthday again. Maybe you just needed a break from him, even if it was on his birthday. 

You came back after meeting up with Kuro and oh, oh the divorce was inevitable now. You had told him a few days after your birthday when he had a meltdown over how he acted and he begged for you to tell him if there was any man or pirate alive that you would have been with other than him and… that fucking cat pirate was the one you chose. Oh, he was handsome and he dressed so sharply, and you felt you had bragging rights over how well he dressed because he was your first true customer that you had repeated business with.

It was a dagger to Buggy’s heart, over and over and over again. 

“What’s got you so upset?” You asked when he stopped responding, slumped on the floor with an almost empty bottle of rum beside him. You moved the bottle and knelt beside him, touching his shoulder. “You feel okay, honey?”

“Are you leaving me for Kuro?” He whimpered, refusing to look at you because he just knew the answer. You’d be happier with a better dressed pirate than with Buggy. It was startling when you chuckled and kissed him on the cheek.

“No, no. I’m not leaving you for cat-boy.” You told him as you tried to coax him to look at you. “I was getting your birthday present, Buggy, to show you how much I love you.”

He sniffled, lifting his head to see you taking your shirt off. A look of confusion crossed his face as you turned yourself to show him your arm, revealing a tattoo of his jolly roger. 

“This isn’t your only present, y’know, I’m gonna make you a feast.” You said as he sat up quickly, trying to get a closer look, but the alcohol was hitting him and he slumped against you, looking up with large, watery eyes as you stroked his cheek gently. “I love you, Buggy, and I’m never leaving you.”

That… that helped. He felt better after that, though still had doubts.

~

The conversation about kids was… not what he anticipated. He thought you’d want kids right away, he saw how you were around children, how your eyes lit up at the family gatherings each year when you got to see all the kids(he loved the look of horror each year on your aunt’s face when the two of you showed up, she didn’t expect the marriage to last). He watched you pick up your cousin’s baby - he was two years younger than you and his wife just had their first kid. Your eyes lit up and Buggy watched your face soften with a smile he hadn’t seen before. 

He waited until you two were alone to ask. To his surprise you snorted at his question and gave him a kiss. “Not just no, but hell no.” 

“Wait, what?”

“Buggy, I like what we have now. Maybe someday we can have cute little kids but not right now.” You told him as you patted his cheeks gently. “And I don’t think we’re ready at all. Kids can be a discussion in a few years, okay?”

“Oh thank God.” Buggy sighed as he slumped against you, wrapping his arms around you and tightening them around you. “I can’t deal with that right now.”

You laughed softly and kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned against him. “Neither can I, honey.” You smiled and looked up at him, pulling him down and bumping your forehead against his gently before kissing the tip of his nose. “I love you, Buggy. Thank you for talking to me about this.”

He blushed but didn’t look away as he hugged you. “Love you too, babe.”

~

It was a yearly thing for him to drink and reminisce about the good ol’ days as an apprentice on Roger’s crew. It was always the anniversary of his former captain’s execution. The first time you witnessed it he didn’t explain it to you, just grabbed bottles and bottles of alcohol to drink with the crew while you waited for an explanation on why this was happening. It wasn’t until you wrangled him to bed after he was strutting around the ship, saying he was still a great swimmer even though he was a Devil Fruit power. Before he could jump over the ship to demonstrate this, you grabbed him by the back of the pants and dragged him to the bedroom for him to sober up and explain. 

Buggy slumped on the bed, not bothering to take his shoes off so you helped him. He giggled, face lighting up as you helped get him comfortable for the night.

“I got the best wifey.” 

“And I have the best hubby.” You chuckled as you glanced up at him. “Can you tell me now what the drinking is for?”

“I drink to my captain!” Buggy told you excitedly, pumping his fist up to the air. “H-He was executed on this day eight years ago! I drink in his honor and to hi-his memory!”

“Oh.” 

You didn’t question him further, just made sure he was comfortable that night. The years going forward, you made sure he was safe, had a reasonable amount of alcohol, and put him to bed. He never talked about it the next day, either because he didn’t want to or didn’t remember, you weren’t sure but you figured if he wanted to talk he would. 

~

You were eleven years into this marriage. It… it was fine. It wasn’t too exciting, nor was it incredibly boring. It was just fine for you. Buggy let you take on certain roles on the ship, mostly just making sure everyone looked their best in their clothes so long as he was the best dressed. He trusted you weren’t leaving him any longer, which made it easier for you to slip out of bed in the morning to start breakfast for the two of you.

It was just right.

This morning was no different. He had his fill of alcohol the night before at the local pub with some of the crew, leaving you on the ship for a peaceful night. Buggy managed to stumble his drunken self back to the ship without falling into the water. He was sleeping off the alcohol, head under the covers as he laid curled up next to you. You woke up with him in your arms, but you managed to slip away from him. You were going to wait to start breakfast, wanting to run out to the shops first to pick up some goods before the crowds started.

Buggy stirred, peeking out from under the blankets with a grumpy expression as you got dressed. He lifted his head up just a bit before letting it fall back on the pillows. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” You told him, keeping your voice soft as you pulled your shirt on. “I’m going to get some things. Any special requests?”

Buggy nodded, mumbling something under the blankets. You walked over and pulled them back just enough for him to mutter it to you, asking for some apples and peanut butter. He finished the last jar a week ago and had been wanting it. You rolled your eyes and kissed him on the forehead. You needed to buy two and hide them from him, apparently the last jar wasn’t hidden well enough.

“I’ll grab that for you. Anything else?”

“D’you hafta go?” He whined softly. “I want cuddles.”

“I’ll be back, honey.” You assured him as you made sure the blankets were keeping him covered. “I’ll have breakfast ready for you when you wake up, okay?”

“Promise?” 

“Promise I’ll have breakfast-”

“Promise you’ll be back?” He lifted his head again, pouting up at you. 

“Oh, of course I’ll be back.” You chuckled softly as you kissed his forehead. “I’ll be gone for a few hours, honey, but I’ll be back.” 

He frowned sleepily but nodded, settling back down under the blankets. You gave his shoulder a squeeze and tucked the blankets around him once more before you grabbed your wallet and headed out. It shouldn’t take too long to collect what you needed, but you were excited to be at this village. You hadn’t been there in over twenty years and you wondered if there had been any changes to it.

And you enjoyed walking around as you collected your goods, putting them in your bags and basket as you chatted with the vendors about what they were selling, how the weather had been lately, just little things that weren’t related to piracy. You loved your life but having a conversation that wasn’t about what Richie had eaten the night before to upset his stomach was nice. 

Your last stop was for peanut butter which you found in a little shop near the docks. It was a cute little place, selling all kinds of tasty ingredients and foods, but you only bought the peanut butter, knowing you could easily go broke buying all the fancy ingredients in the shop. Maybe if Buggy ever became incredibly rich and had lots of treasure you could think of something like that.

You bid farewell to the shopkeep as you stepped out of the shop, not watching where you were going. Something bumped into you, startling you, and when you turned to apologize, your voice caught in your throat. As far as you were aware, you were very sober so what was this you were seeing in front of you?

“Hey, watch it!” The kid in front of you snapped, glaring daggers up at you. His blue hair and bright red nose was very familiar to you.

Oh, oh no, what was going on?

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Okaeri (a scrapped 'Another Level' scene)

Hello!! I decided to post this old draft of Rinko and Gojo's reunion after he was released from the Prison Realm to give you guys a lil look at just how much changed from when I originally started writing Another Level to where we are now.

This draft was something I wrote very early on, and by the time we got Gojo out of the Prison Realm, it didn't fit the story at all.

I'll provide a breakdown at the end to give more context and commentary, but the primary thing you'll need to know before reading is that, originally, I had intended for Rinko to stay in hiding and completely isolated throughout almost the entire 19 days. So, that's where she's at in this draft that I eventually scrapped completely 🙃

Happy reading 💕

If you haven't already, you can read Another Level on AO3 😊

*This work contains possible JJK Manga spoilers. Gojo x Original Female Character. Uhhhh. Implied smut?

Okaeri

2018

Twenty days.

It had been twenty days since he’d been sealed. 

Well, technically, it was nineteen and a few hours.

A glance at the clock told her it was still the middle of the night.

Around day eleven, Rinko asked herself when she’d become the kind of person who counted days like this.

She used to go weeks without speaking to him. Months without seeing him. It never bothered her before.

Got somethin’ real important to tell ya.

It was because he was still their win condition. 

Because they couldn’t win this without him.

Got somethin’ real important-

Probably didn’t help that she hadn’t left his damn condo in almost fifteen days now. She’d gone to let Shoko reassess her injuries and get the all-clear afterward because, apparently even Shoko didn’t fucking know where Gojo lived.

Secretive little shit.

Rinko had since learned that the list was shorter than she originally thought, only including her, Yaga, and Nanami.

Well, it only included her now-

Got somethin’ real-

Having gotten enough basic food to last her for a long time when she’d gone to see Shoko, she’d been isolated since.

And going fucking crazy.

At least the dreams had stopped. Mercifully, they’d stopped a few days after her fucking delusional wet dream.

Got somethin’ real important to tell ya.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Rinko forced herself out of the torturous safety of the bed. She needed to shower and get dressed. Wear real clothes and feel like a fucking human instead of a walking corpse just because her- best friend was gone.

She’d received a text earlier telling her to meet Hime, Shoko, and Yoshinobu at the Tokyo Tech campus because they had news, but she’d been asleep. So, she’d texted Shoko to let her know she would head that way soon.

Her body ached from the strain of moving for the first time in what felt like days. But she knew that wasn’t true. She’d forced herself to make food the day prior, staring at the stove as she made herself eggs and toast, wondering how much longer she’d be able to force herself to live like this.

Unable to help. She’d had to learn about Megumi from Shoko, unable to do anything to help. Knowing it was partially because Tsumiki-

The shower drowned her sobs and amplified them at the same time.

Pulling another one of Gojo’s sweaters over her head, she realized she needed to do laundry. She’d quickly run out of her own shirts, which she hadn’t been too worried about. But she drew the line at wearing his pants.

Grumbling to herself, she looked through her bag on the floor of his closet before moving into the bedroom to search through the pile near the hamper. She was not going to wear his pants. Even if she had to wear a dirty, gross pair of her own.

As she rifled through the pile, swearing briefly when she couldn’t find any, she continued mumbling.

“Fucking swear, I know I brought more than one pair. Where the fuck are they?”

She let out a small cry of relief when she finally found a pair at the bottom of his hamper.

“S’legs are too fuckin long anyway,” she said to herself, sticking her right leg in. “Would fuckin trip before I could-”

A quiet chuckle cut her off, halting with her left leg halfway into the pants. She blinked slowly.

She was really fucking losing it.

There was another chuckle, this time causing Rinko to whip around to see him standing in the doorway, smiling at her.

He was wearing the same clothes she’d last seen him in, his jacket ripped to shreds. His hands were in his pockets as he stared at her, blindfold nowhere to be seen.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “Nope. Officially too far. Don’t care who it is on the council. I’ll just fucking- I’ll just kill all of them. I could do it. More than capable. Just a bunch of old fucks. I’ve gotta fucking leave this place.”

Yanking her pants the rest of the way on, she kept mumbling to herself as she refused to look at the specter in the doorway.

“Fucking hallucinating, great. Oh, Hime’s gonna fucking love this. Never let me fucking live it down. Know exactly what she’s gonna say, too: ‘I told you so, Rinko. I knew he’d drive you crazy someday.’ Fucking-”

Rinko cut off when she tried to walk through the door, ignoring the stupid apparition of her damned delusional, fucked up mind, only to find that this apparition was solid.

She blinked for a moment, staring straight at the hallucination’s chest.

Did she- was the door closed, and she just forgot? Had her crazy dumbass just fucking run into the door?

“Rinko,” it whispered, arms going around her waist as she stumbled. “Rinko-chan-”

“I have fucking lost it,” she breathed, tears in her eyes as it grasped her chin, forcing her to look up.

Bright blue eyes from her fucking nightmares at this point.

She closed her eyes immediately, squeezing them shut and willing herself to make it go away. To stop torturing herself.

“Rinko,” he repeated quietly. “I’m here. You might be crazy, sweetheart, but not that crazy-”

“Exactly what an insane person’s hallucination would say,” she stated.

Gojo laughed, the sound ripping her chest open. And she felt that void blow wide open with it as she realized she’d truly gone insane.

Completely broken and unhinged, and honestly, maybe Shoko would understand if she just crawled back into bed. Because, at this point, she couldn’t do it. Fully and truly, honestly couldn’t do it anymore.

“I always knew you liked me more than you admitted,” he teased, his voice sounding too real. “Open your eyes, baby.”

“You’re not fucking real,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. “I-”

“Rinko,” he cut her off, his breath against her lips. “Rinko, baby, look at me.”

When she still didn’t open her eyes, he hummed quietly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Baby,” his voice was amused now. “Don’t make me spank you-”

Her eyes shot open, irritation flooding her as she met his bright blue, glowing eyes as he grinned.

Only this asshole would-

“Thought that might get you to open them,” he murmured, chuckling when she scowled. “Baby, I’m here.”

Her face scrunched as he leaned even closer, nudging his nose against hers teasingly.

“Rinko-chan,” he breathed, his lips brushing hers. “I’m home.”

Not waiting for a reply, he pressed his lips to hers gently before moving his hand from her chin to tangle in her hair. His other arm stayed around her waist, pulling her so she was flush against him.

“Missed you,” he said, sucking her tongue into his mouth. “Missed you so much, baby.”

Tears were running down her cheeks, her mind still not believing what was in front of her was real. He ground his hips into her, moving to lick her neck and groaning when she whimpered quietly.

Giving in slowly, her hands grasped his shirt, fingers clenching the fabric as she sobbed.

“I- you were- I thought-”

“Couldn’t stay away from you,” he teased, sucking her pulse harshly, moaning as one of her hands went to his hair, tugging the strands lightly. “Had somethin’ important to tell you, remember?”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she whined, feeling Gojo’s laugh rumble through her. “You can’t just-”

He silenced her by leaning back up, capturing her lips again, and slowly walking her backward.

“Shh, baby,” he hummed, biting her lip. “Just let me make you feel good. Been a bit, yeah? You miss me?”

-

Commentary

Obviously, this is very different from what we had in Something Important.

As I said before, I wrote this early on. So by the time we got to Shibuya, this draft no longer fit. It just didn't fit who Rinko was as a person anymore. With the growth she experienced, especially in the few months leading up to Shibuya, she wouldn't react this way.

I've mentioned a few times that I hadn't intended to really include the Culling Game arc. And I still didn't, not really. But having Rinko hiding away and being scared of the higher-ups just isn't who she is. Especially when it comes to her kids' safety. Like hell would Rinko have just sat in isolation with no updates on the kids. Hell no. If they'd tried to get her to, she'd have stormed one of the barriers herself and killed anyone who got in between her and her kids.

I also felt this draft made it seem way too much like Rinko's life revolved around Gojo when it doesn't. So, having her sit around and count the days just felt cheap.

There was no way Rinko would have sat by while her kids were fighting for their lives like this. And there was no way, after the realizations and the growth she'd gone through, that she would crumble like this and allow herself to sink into things like this.

But on top of that, there was no way that Rinko would be able to just welcome Gojo back as her fuck buddy without her heart completely breaking in half after all the loss that she'd experienced at this point.

Personally, this would have ended up feeling far to emotionally detached from all the trauma and loss that the two of them have gone through, and it would have negated any positive character development we'd had up until then as well.

The more I've read this back over to write this lil commentary, the more I fall in love with how Something Important turned out. Because it genuinely felt like the perfect reunion for these two after everything that had happened.

If I remember correctly, I wrote this way back before I wrote I Say "Sayonara." Soooo, that should tell you something about how much had changed 🙃

Also, you'll notice a few small details that I snuck into other installments once I realized that this one was going to have to be scrapped.

One of them being the joke about Gojo's legs being too long for her to wear his pants, which I included in Fragmented Reality instead.

SO. There's that. A small look behind the curtain of one of the original drafts that was completely scrapped in favor of something much better 😂😂

Did I MAKE ANY SENSE?? I FEEL LIKE I DIDN'T BUT HOPEFULLY I DID 🫠🫠

ALSO, I will include a fun lil extra blurb that I was never able to include anywhere, and that made me sad because I found it hilarious:

They lay there comfortably for a few minutes, focusing on each other’s breathing.

“Yoshinobu!” she suddenly gasped out, causing Gojo to scowl down at her when she tried to shove him away. “Hime! I was supposed to meet them-”

“They already knew you weren’t going to make it,” he cut her off, swatting her hands and putting them back into his hair. “I told them I’d update you and get back to them.”

“Oh,” she breathed, settling back once more.

He lifted his head back up to look her in the eye, his gaze serious.

“And don’t you ever yell Gakuganji’s name after I’ve just cum inside you,” he deadpanned, pulling a breathless laugh from her. “I mean it, Rinko. That’s enough to make my dick shrink forever.”

“I’m sorry!” she gasped, the weight in her chest lifting with each giggle.

[raeofalbion]

Fic Ask Meme:

Because it’s one of my go to favs: Shatter Albion Series.

Is there any scene that you cut from the main story that you wish you could go back to add? (Or alternatively, tell us about a cut scene that you wish you could have included)

( meme ) -- Thank you! :D <3 And thank you for reading! <3 I'm so glad you like the series.

Y'know, it's funny, cuz this is exactly why I rewrote MoI back in...my goodness, was it 2016? (Surely not that long ago??) There were just so many scenes that needed elaborating and missing bits that needed to be added and it felt necessary to do that before continuing on with the series.

But yes! There are still some I cut and either would like to add back in or might repurpose for later. (Sorry, this is long.)

From MoI:

The first time Victoria and Reaver sleep together. I've tried to write this so many times and it just...doesn't ever work out the way I'm picturing it. There's like...half a dozen-ish cut drafts in a document somewhere. Maybe one day I'll make it work.

The original, hand-written draft of MoI included a scene with Logan questioning Ben after Victoria disappears from Reaver's house, suspicious about why his sister's suddenly not writing him. In the end, it was cut cuz it didn't really make sense to have him go to Ben to find out if Victoria had somehow contacted him, but I still kinda like the idea.

Continuing along the Victoria-running-away track: there's a couple little outlines somewhere for a follow up to the scene where she decides to leave, showing how she got out of Reaver's house. One of them involved her actually shooting Reaver with his own gun; the other involved Reaver essentially stalking her through the house, not interacting or trying to stop her but watching her all the while. In the end, I couldn't make up my mind and I felt like nothing I wrote there would be 100% satisfying to readers, so I chose to scrap both ideas. Not sure if that was the right decision, tbh.

There was a scene before the wedding with Walter and Jasper playing cards in the original draft. Tonally, it didn't work, but I still like it.

There was a scene where Reaver sort of...playfully faux-crowned Victoria in the castle? He's being an ass and very sarcastic about it, and Victoria hates the entire thing, but it was supposed to lead to them having semi-public sex. ...which is also the reason it got cut. What smut I'd written was just...not good. And I never really had the will (no pun intended) to rewrite it, so I scrapped it.

An early on scene where Reaver and Victoria get into a proper row after she walks in on him with one of his...uh...friends. I actually had to check and make sure I didn't add this one back in and I'm not sure why I didn't. Reaver yelling at her about them "pretending to play house" and about how he was never going to choose Victoria above his own interests would've been very 👀👀👀 given how things turn out.

Not something I actually cut, but, if I were to do another rewrite, I'd like to add some more Logan scenes, just for the tragedy angle.

From DoV:

Cut one of the mystery dreams (well, I guess now that we're near the end of Blackout I can just say it: one of the dreams she shares with Scythe, where he's trying to contact her) cuz it was too repetitive.

A couple tiny (very tiny!) scenes with Faraday. Just chatting with him. In hindsight, they were unnecessary to cut.

I've talked about this one before, but the original scene where Victoria and Reaver talk about their relationship was cut and rewritten. Originally, Reaver was going to confess his feelings for her there. But it didn't fee organic and didn't really work and it kinda just pissed off Victoria worse. So instead the scene is -gestures to the story- but the line about the singing fish is as close to confessing as Reaver can get himself at that point.

From Blackout:

Technically the entire first draft was cut because my pc ate it, so I'm sure there's a lot of things on there I would like to add back in. T-T

Cut some flashbacks with the Crawler just for length, nothing really plot relevant, though. (I may come to regret this.)

Also cut some really stupid jokes of Reaver's. (I do not regret this.)

Cut a lot of political stuff that will affect the next story, and I...have begun to suspect this will come to bite me in the ass because a couple things were much more relevant than I thought they'd be. :S SO. I don't know what I'll do about that yet.

The next chapter has a rather large chunk from it that was cut and is in the process of being rewritten. Basically: Reaver and Victoria being horny now that they're reunited. It doesn't fit, tonally or pacing-wise, but I am a little sad y'all won't get to read Scythe interrupting them and Reaver complaining under his breath about not getting off. Maybe I'll turn it into a oneshot.

+ Bonus!

Technically there's an entire story I've cut from Shattered Albion (set between DoV and Blackout) about Reaver and Faraday investigating one of the DLCs together. I would really like to add it, cuz I think it would set up some things for the final book and I think it's fun, but I'm not sure if anyone actually would want to read it.

[midnightshard06]

So decided to finally cave and share these two here. Cause you see, I quite enjoy exe stuff. These are two of my guys, and at the moment likely the only ones I'll share on here lol. Who knows perhaps I'll share the others some time, but to be fair these are the two with the most development.

Anyway these two are Unleashed and Fragment respectively.

Also here, take an alt of this artwork that shows Unleashed's other stuff going on. As you might be able to tell, for those of you that are familiar anyway, Unleashed is the one that influences how I draw Bound by Fate! Sonic lol.

Gonna chat about them below as well as share some other pics I've done of them. Warning, this is gonna be longish.

Alright so! First things first, these two don't come from the same like game universe things. They came from separate ones and just managed to find each other. Having both lost their Tails/Sonic they sort of adopted each other once they realized they didn't want to hurt each other.

Unleashed is from, as you might expect, a copy of Sonic Unleashed. Basically the game glitches out in one of the final cutscenes (the one where Dark Gaia takes back the last of its power from Sonic) this ends up corrupting not only the game, but Sonic. The entire world is more or less gone and Sonic now looks like the above pics. He spends a fair amount of time in what is more or less a void with nothing in it. It's there he begins to realize the nature of his existence and he gives himself a new name, since he doesn't really feel like Sonic anymore.

Eventually his game is dumped to make a rom, apparently whoever got ahold of his game didn't think to check it before trying to make a rom with it lol, this allows him to escape. He spends those first days and such exploring and picking fights with violent exes. He loses a lot in those early days, reluctantly returning to the dubious safety of his game when he needed somewhere to get away. What holds him back mainly is still clinging to the ideals of Sonic. To not kill, when his opponents have no such qualms. Eventually he would give this up to, and learn to be just as brutal as the world he'd found himself in. He would still always at his core be Sonic though, even if it might not really look like it.

Fragment on the other hand is a victim of an exe, and the only survivor at that. He comes from a game of Sonic 3 and Knuckles. He had to watch as the exe picked off Knuckles first and then Sonic. While the exe had been chasing down the trio Tails had been desperately trying to figure out a way to stop the exe. Until Sonic's sacrifice he didn't have a way, but Sonic managed to knock lose a scrap of code that Tails would eventually be able to use to stop the exe.

Their final confrontation was not far from the emerald shrine, and the exe had come in the form of Sonic in an attempt to throw off Tails.

Tails at this point had managed to lose a good chunk of his own code to attacks from the exe, hence his appearance. Though he was able to lure the exe right where he wanted them. Near a newly uncorrupted Master Emerald.

Using its power Tails was able to destroy the exe for good (well sorta, but that is perhaps a story for another day). Then he slowly started to fix up his world and take the time to properly mourn his friends. It was also around this time that he started calling himself Fragment, referring to his own condition. His code was sort of fragmented from the damage done to it, but he was stable at least.

Fragment and Unleashed met really by chance, but after a lot of reassurance from Fragment Unleashed agreed to go with him. The two have been inseparable ever since. Also! A fun fact. Unleashed only has Chip's bracelet because of Fragment. He found it in Unleashed's code and got it for him, also using it as a stabilizer of sorts for Unleashed.

(old art/first pass at Unleashed's design but ye. Iiiii don't wanna talk about those quills. Yikes lol)

I have... much more I could say about these two but I'll leave it here for now. Gives me an excuse to perhaps ramble about them again at some point. There is far more detail to both of their stories but I tried to keep it concise here lol. Thank you to anyone who actually read all my ramblings on these two. Hope you have a great day.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

I really really hope you're right, this just killed my motivation for everything. What happened with Solomare's story jar already left a bad taste in my mouth too.

I know I'll feel better in a few days, but I felt lied to when they said they'd continue the story and the app. And it's going to be even lighter and fluffier and a replacement for the main story line? One that new players will perfectly fit into? I was so looking forward to learning more about what would happen to Simeon.

Also not announcing it until last minute? For once I'm really glad I can barely afford food, because I'd be devastated if I had spent even a dollar. But maybe that's just me being poor.

I'm mostly likely going to stop writing for a while until I've archived everything important from the app, which is gonna take ages just in case anyway.

But anyway, are there any recent events you thought were better than usual? I've been too sick to grind lately so I haven't unlocked them. I want to know which ones to archive as soon as possible once the six months are up.

Sorry for bringing the mood down and the rant, but you seem to be the only positive one I follow that isn't outright calling people stupid or pathetic for being upset so I'm really hoping your positivity rubs off on me.

I do hope you keep posting for Nightbringer too! I have several issues with my hands so I don't think I'll ever be able to see the end of the og story line, and I especially love your analyses out of anyone else's.

Okay okay so they are continuing the og app and continuing the story, the only difference is they'll be continuing the mainstory in nightbringer and the og app will just be getting events. So the og app will continue the way it has since the end of s4 and new main story content will be uploaded to nightbringer (the devs did says this)

Not sure what happened with story jar but Obey Me! is solmare's most popular game. Objectively, nothing solmare has created has ever come near to reaching om! And I'm talking purely in the money making side of it - the anime? mangas? songs? merch? cons? VAs getting heavily involved in everything? Solmare's a business. As long as there's a fandom and a demand for it they're not gonna kill the og app.

Plus the majority of om's content is on the og app, with new content and old events still being released. If they wanted to kill the og app they'd stop releasing new content and updating lonely devil.

Since nightbringer will be continuing the mainstory from where they left off, they'd also need to move all of S1-4 the chats, call & devilgrams to nightbringer if they were gonna kill the og - and I'd imagine that's more hassle than it's worth

I do think we'd learn more about what happened to simeon;

• devs said they'd be continuing the main story in nightbringer so that'd include simeon

• nightbringer's current plot is about time travel and mc trying to find a way back home - so they will end up back in the current time at some point, where simeon's whole thing can be addressed

• s3 established that luke wasn't alive when the brothers were angels. If they intended to keep mc in the past they'd either have to scrap luke's entire character (?????) or retcon s3 which so far dropped the most lore

• thirteen (who's supposed to turn into a LI)'s first visit to the devildom happens in s4 and in nightbringer's op we see her in Diavolo's castle. Which means we're seeing the present timeline as well

....i think you're maybe panicking a bit too much? You definitely don't need to archive anything anytime soon. For well all of the reasons I mentioned above.... Maybe someday you'd have to but definitely not right now

Honestly I liked all the events🤷

No worries! And Yeah I think the thing people are forgetting is that Nightbringer is STILL Obey Me! I'm definitely going to be still talking about it

Ok so I have an exam in 2 days and I think I've answered every possible question about Nightbringer you could possibly have so I'm calling it here.

Won't be answering new asks until sunday. Everything posted will be from queue.

If you want to see my others asks/answers regarding Nighbringer just hit the tag on this post

[masterlovehurtssfw]

A Fucking Ghost Story (sample)

Summary: Isabel is a paranormal investigator looking into hauntings and figuring out how her clients can best put them to use.

After what felt like endless research, she has finally found the key phrase she needs to put a hunky ghost that's been haunting her most recent client's hotel to use.

The use she'll put his ectoplasmic body to will have her chilled to the bone and coming back for more!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Isabel had been working with the paranormal since college. Despite the administration removing all parapsychology classes from the roster for a few years, an uptick in undeniable paranormal activity brought the old classes, new classes, and entire degree programs in parapsychology, paranormal phenomena, and specters back into the halls of universities everywhere.

Education is a business. It only made sense to sell the skills and knowledge that were in demand.

Since she'd received her degree, she started a business investigating, capturing, and putting to use when possible paranormal phenomena. Some were safe and made great tourist attractions or could even be used for tasks if the proper incantations were used.

Her latest job had led her to an old hotel with the spirit of a young man that haunted the halls nightly. After a few weeks of research, she was sure she'd found the key to putting him to use.

The clock at the end of the long hallway where she waited struck midnight. Despite being electric, the lights flickered and sputtered as if they were candles or oil lamps. Then she saw it take form, glowing from within with some strange light.

Isabel watched the apparition float down the hall towards her. No matter how many werewolves, ghosts, magical nicknacks, and other strange things she saw, none of it failed to amaze her. The back of her neck tingled and her breathing grew shallow.

Then she felt the heat between her legs as her pussy grew wet. She wasn't sure why but something about witnessing the supernatural always turned her on faster than anything from the mundane world.

The spirit looked like a young man. His muscles strained against his shirt. Long locks of dark hair waved in winds she could not feel. His eyes seemed to stare into someplace she could not see. She wondered for a moment if the hotel looked the same to him as it did when he died or if he was seeing some plane of existence beyond the material world.

"Maybe both," she thought.

The most immediately noticeable differences between him and a living man were that he was translucent and that, despite the sounds of his heavy footsteps, nothing below his knees appeared to exist.

"Clearly there must be some sort of materialization. Otherwise, he would produce no sounds. I can even see the floorboards move... Could be spectrum-shifted due to an incomplete manifestation..."

Her thoughts carried her away for a moment before she pulled herself back to the present.

She looked up and down the hall to make sure no other person was watching. There shouldn't be since the owner assured her the hotel was closed for the week while she did her work. However, some curious people had snuck into her investigations before.

"It looks like he managed to actually keep everyone out," she thought. "Good."

Sure that she was actually alone, other than the sexy ghost walking her way, she pulled a tattered piece of paper from her pocket. It had taken looking through every book in the hotel library but when it fell out of a romance novel, she knew it was exactly the incantation the town gossip had told her about. Though the old woman had assured her it was all nonsense dreamed up by disreputable young girls with their heads in the crotches.

"Well I'll be disreputable... for science," Isabel thought.

"Eh-hem," she cleared her throat before beginning to read from the scrap of paper. "Cast your eyes upon me. Cast your eyes upon me. Cast your eyes upon me."

The ghost stopped and slowly turned his head to face her and fixed his far-away stare onto her face instead. She looked up from the paper to meet his gaze. His blue eyes sparkled and looked alive. He was handsome, despite the peeling wallpaper she could see through his misty head.

"Who? Who calls me?" it asked in a voice like wind moving through the shadows of leaves.

"I am the one. The one you seek. The one to give you release," she said, glancing at the paper to make sure she had the wording right.

She watched as his eyes shifted from distant yet puzzled, to focused and passionate.

He drifted towards her, the mist of his body pulling tighter with each inch he grew nearer. It became more difficult to see through him, until at last, he was standing only a few feet from her. His body from the knees up seemed as solid as any living man's flesh. Only his misty legs and feet gave away his true spectral nature.

"My love?"

His voice echoed in the hall and she gulped at a lump in her throat, trying to settle her wild nerves.

At last, after a few false starts, she looked into his blue eyes and spoke.

"Yes, I am your love. Follow me!"

She walked ahead with him drifting behind her by only a few inches. Just after she stepped inside her dimly lit bedroom, she dared to look back. She was sure that, unlike most men she'd taken into a bedroom, he was more handsome up close.

"Why are all the hot ones dead? Well, at least I get to call this work and play at the same time," she thought.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Read the rest on:

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1468324

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CLGKXLJV

[4awny]

Kyman Week Day 7 - Free Day

(someone grab the tissues)

As Eric Cartman.

Adjusting to a normal life again wasn't as easy as I was convinced it would be. Three years out at this point and I still couldn't adjust.

I was institutionalised. At least that's what Kyle called it. He seemed older than me, almost senior. Because in my head, I was still only 27. I didn't get to live my thirties at all, so when he told me all these stories about the things he did and the places he went, I wanted to soak it all up. I felt envy, not jealousy.  

Kyle made out his life was boring and dull, because he would do. He was more cynical now, moodier than before, but everything else was still the same. He was still the same old Kyle.

"Tell me the one thing you really want to do before you die. It can be literally anything." He asked me one day over breakfast. I think he was trying to get birthday ideas. 

I thought about it for a minute, because it was hard to pick just one thing. "Get married." I said, looking right at him.

"Really?" He asked, surprised. "Because here's the thing about marriage. It's overrated. Expensive as fuck too, I wasted so much money on mine and even more with the divorce proceedings, Christ. I didn't want to do it in the first place, I only did it because-" He stopped when he caught my eyes. "I thought it was what I wanted."

"So, what. You think I'll regret it?" I ask him.

"I mean... if it's what you want?" I could feel his eyes on me as I stabbed my eggs and ate them. I felt his fingers suddenly touch my wrist. "Wait a minute, are you asking me to? As in, you know?" He nodded a few times, unable to actually say it.

I put my fork down to answer his question. "Am I asking you to marry me? Yes. You asked me what I want to do before I die and that's what I want." I said simply and went back to finishing off the scraps scattered around my plate.

"Okay." Kyle said, leaning back into his chair to process it. "Yeah, okay. We'll make it happen." His eyes fell to my near empty plate, smiling to himself.

Three months pass, we tie the knot and it was the happiest day of my life. It was small and nothing fancy, but that's what I liked about it.

That night in the bedroom before bed, I told him I was going to slip into something more comfortable. I came out of the bathroom wearing a dress and started goofing around with him.

"What am I doing?" I repeat his question, looking as confused as ever. "What are you talking about, I always wear this?"

Kyle covered his laugh with the back of his hand. "I really have no idea how you survived inside."

"Unfortunately, they don't provide these sorts of garments in male prisons." I made my way towards the hotel door. "Shame, because it would have been the prettiest way to show my dominance. I'll be back, just going down to the bar. Those pants better be on the floor by the time I get back."

He doesn't say anything, too busy snickering at the state of me. Seeing him laugh like that was the highlight of the day. I waited many years to see that again and it was worth the wait. So worth it.

My daughter was eight when she came to live with us in the house Kyle and I bought together. Her mother was suffering with depression and needed help looking after her.

Kyle always told me I was a great dad, but I thought he did a better job. He was always reminding me of appointments, getting her ready for school, making sure everything was how it should be.

It all changed when he was diagnosed with cancer.

He was 51. Six months of treatment, but it was too advanced. I gave up my job to care for him and I watched him deteriorate. I stayed with him until the bitter end and I'll never forget our last conversation.

I asked him not to leave yet, I begged him to stay another day.

"You'll be fine." He told me, breathing the words out as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "You're a good person, Eric."

He fell asleep after that and I laid next to him, holding his hand the entire night. When the morning came, I pulled back the drapes and opened the window to let some air in. I caughtef an early bird picking worms out of the grass in the yard and that's when I felt the shift. I turned around and I went still.

Yeah, and just like that, he was gone.

It's now been a year since the date of his passing and I sit alone by his grave, weeding out the dying flowers I brought last week and replacing them with fresh ones.

"Hey, I was speaking to my therapist today." I say to him as I pull out my camping stool and sit down. "Asking me stupid questions as usual. One of them really stumped me though, so I'm wondering if you'll know."

I reach into my bag and retrieve two glasses. I pour a shot of whiskey in both and place one glass on his headstone. "Do you remember how we first met?"

I listen to his answer and I chuckle to myself, because I already know what he's going to say. I sit there for a while, listening to past conversations we had an re-living them out loud. By the end of my weekly visit, my eyes start to weep.

I think about how unfair it is. What happened to him wasn't fair, it should have been me. After everything I did, how was I the one still alive and standing? These thoughts creep up on me now and then, but I'm slowly starting to accept it now.

No, life isn't fair. But it's fairer than death.

Kyle told me that once.

7 / 7

Prev

You'll be fine - Ao3, final chapter uploaded

this was a challenge but also real fun. til next year!

[misailurist]

State of the Fanfiction

Wanted to talk a bit about fanfics I wrote back in the day and plans for the future. tldr: it's (almost) all weird-ass Simeon Saint rarepairs

Eight years ago, I wrote Simon Says, a way-too-long story about Simon Blackquill's time in prison... which quickly became focused on him dating/breaking up with Simon Keyes. There had been some interest in that pairing, and I liked it myself, but keeping them together felt antithetical to the story's overall message of "Blackquill is OK now and has learned to stop martyring himself for others," and also I not-so-secretly think messy breakups are more fun than successful romances. So that's what I did. Despite that, I'd had a lot of notes at the time about what a sequel might look like, where Keyes got out of prison and had his own redemption arc and became the kind of boyfriend who wouldn't destroy Blackquill's life. But when it came to actually write it, I decided that redemption arcs were boring, scrapped it all, and started working on my bonkers Keyes/Phantom fic where literally the only reason behind the pairing choice was, "Phantom is about as emotionally functional as an animal, so I bet Keyes could train him into being his dog." I wrote two chapters and then wandered away from fandom entirely to try being a functional adult for a while. Now, a whole ass time skip later, being a functional adult sucks ass and AAI2 finally got localized, so here I am again. I ended up reading all my own fanfic -- do you know that if enough years pass, you'll forget enough of what you wrote that reading your own fics feels like finding a new favorite author who made a bunch of shit just for you? Do recommend. And in those fics, I found three stories where I were mad that they hadn't been finished. Did you know that if you're your own new favorite author, you are now burdened with the knowledge that unfinished fics won't be updated unless YOU, YOURSELF update them? Awful. Terrible. Do not recommend. The three fics were: 1. Just Fake it. My post-bad-end Blackbright fic. I should go to jail for not finishing that. (On the bright side, it's what made me hyper-vigilant about backing up my writing, which is why I have the remnants of all the stories on this list at all.) I would like to finish it but I am in the middle of replaying the games and don't want to touch it until I've replayed Dual Destinies. (I am currently on...... Turnabout Big Top. Sigh.) 2. Impostor Syndrome. The aforementioned Keyes/Phantom fic, which I have updated with the new localized names so it is now a Saint/Phantom fic. Although it is currently just "the meandering post-prison adventures of Simeon Saint" fic because I am completely, utterly making this shit up as I go and haven't gotten to the shipping part yet. Does anyone want to read this but me? Trick question, I don't care. I'm basically in a fugue state right now and I don't think I could stop if I wanted. Also we are T-minus-two-chapters to where there will, in fact, be some actual for real Saint/Phantom shipping, so idk hang in there. 3. Simon, Horace, and Miles. The "what if there were no IS-7" AU. This one sucks actually. But I still love the idea of it. There's meat there. But the whole thing needs to be scrapped and restarted from the ground up. Something to consider once Impostor Syndrome is out of my system. Also I would rewrite it to be properly soutamitsu. That's a pairing the world needs more of, damn it. Also I lied, there's a secret fourth one that I never posted anywhere publicly: 4. Fabulous! A Simeon Saint/Max Galactica smut fic I started and then remembered I don't like writing smut. But the setup was pretty good so maybe I'll try again to finish it???

[lawyerkin]

story time of how i got a dog under the cut :3

so as i mentioned. i was in a big city, biggest one in my state actually, for an important appointment. and i left with some pretty bad news that left me feeling really hopeless and depressed and kind of done with everything. this was last thursday in the morning.

from the hospital i went straight to the beach with my gf and her brother, who drove us there in his car. i felt pretty bad all day and i was on grindr to distract myself because big city grindr is very different from what im used to back in my town and i like exploring it.

the next day we went back to the actual city and we were at the mall from around 11 am to 6 pm, then i left with a guy i met up with there. i got to the guy's house and he had two dogs, a small shitzu and this puppy that was almost bigger than his grown dog, and he told me he was giving the other dog away because he bought the dog thinking it was a yorkshire (he fell for a pretty obvious scam 😭) and the dog just wouldn't stop growing and the apartment was REALLY, REALLY TINY and absolutely NOT AT ALL fit for a dog any bigger than a york.

so i was telling him i live far away from the big city and my backyard is pretty big and tbh almost all houses in my town have really big backyards and he asked if i could take the dog bcs he said i seemed like i would be able to care for it and im ngl, i never wanted a dog

after my two elderly poodles passed in 2022 i thought i'd never have a dog again because it really is a chore and i wasnt really willing to take on a 10+ year long responsibility again. but when i saw that puppy. they called him urso. i just instantly knew i HAD to take him. i just knew i NEEDED him. and yeah, i did

i was at several other places after going to that guy's house, all in the meantime i was talking to a lot of people to see if it would work out. i talked to my sister ofc, even with my dad who didn't even know i wasn't home, with bubble and her brother because we'd be taking him home in their car and with my friend wolfe who lives in a farm as a sort of backup plan. the next day at around 3 pm i decided i was taking him. so bubble's brother drove us to pick him up. he got in the car and not even an hour later he was sleeping on the floor of the car, and bubble also fell asleep and i was just looking at the dog and thinking about my life and about those very negative thoughts i was having and i started thinking about this dog and the future we'll have and all the things i'll have to do to keep him safe and take care of him and i was suddenly filled with these waves of motivation and i scrapped my idea of quitting going to the gym because i'll need to be strong to control my dog and have energy to take him for walks and i want to knit him sweaters when it gets cold and train myself to jog/run so we can go together and teach him tricks and give him toys and we can have matching collars and i'll make a instagram stories highlight just for him and im gonna have a baby to care for. and i'll have an actual reason to leave my room. and go out. and eat and go to the gym and do my best everyday. for my puppy. he needs me i need him and i am SO glad i met up with that random guy on grindr

also here are some pictures :3

tony hawk pro skater demo (aka urso 🐻) in his original home, and being carried by his original owner in a bag (cutest thing in the whole entire world!!!!!)

tony hawk pro skater demo (aka urso ����) in our car, getting ready for a 6 hour long drive home <3

on our way: stopping to stretch our legs, posing with a 3 meter tall capybara, tony inspecting the driver's seat, going back to sleep and, finally, TONY HAWK PRO SKATER DEMO HOME WITH MY FAVOURITE CHEW TOY I GAVE HIM AS A SPECIAL WELCOME GIFT <33

[panelshowsource]

it's actually been leaked for some time, although — and not to sound whiny — any time i've posted it or just talked about it i've gotten 10+ anonymous messages telling me i'm the devil and ruining the establishment of taskmaster with my irresponsible gossiping. so i didn't post about it and deleted any of the asks/convo about the new cast, even though ofc everyone has had tonsss of thoughts about it 😅

anyways would have laid down my whole life betting john robins (one of THE most obvious future tm contestants, being such a good friend of alex's!) and joanne mcnally would be on so i feel very vindicated — and excited! — in that regard! we're gonna have a great time :)

someone sent an anon asking about people i'd bet — not who i want, but who i'd bet — would be on the show so i'll think more about that and post later this week! the series will def have more seasons so i'll try and get some guesses in heh

OMG ME TOO her name is mabel! she's sooooooo cute ≧◡≦

hello anon!! actually you don't need me for this, it was recently posted on tv_bunny :)

enjoy!

she's great! she reminds me a lot of roisin, in that when she's not doing her semi-pre-written joke material, she's supremely good at hanging, bantering, fitting in with the vibe. i really appreciate that when it comes to panel shows particularly! but i can't say i've seen much of her standup

(wait — can i digress for a second — roisin is one of the ONLY recurring catsdown contestants who actually brings in sensible mascots that have the purpose of helping her/bringing her luck, and her presentations of them are always so hilarious and she deserves more credit for that)

+ not important but i really like her voice

thank you for sending her well wishes <3

i appreciate the message and you weren't the only person to say this, but i think some people are only part-way informed as to her journey reclaiming her name. her intention was never to scrap the nickname shappi or stop people from calling her that; it was 1) to reconcile her experience growing up in the uk with her name and how that led to her committing to shappi as a teen, and 2) to be published, credited, and billed as shaparak in professional capacities. she has clarified many times, including here and here, that it is totally acceptable to call her shappi; people on tv & radio still call her shappi after formal introductions, like in the new wilty when everyone calls her shappi throughout the entire episode; her social media handles are still shappi; and so on. she's shaparak, but that doesn't mean she "no longer goes by shappi". there is some confusion here i think some people are taking her journey, which was lovely to follow, as rejecting shappi — but that isn't the case.

i already updated her tag to 'shaparak khorsandi' a while ago and would definitely credit her full name where necessary, but socially, colloquially, like in the quick text post i made asking people to give shappi some love, there is no disrespect in calling her that! of course, plenty of people are credited by one name and are regularly called another/a nickname, like olivia colman who is actually called sarah by her family and colly by most everyone else. she seems really happy with having done her book and her recent show under her full name, and it's been beautiful to see her come around to love shaparak as much as she has loved shappi :')

btw for anyone who doesn't know, shaparak means butterfly in farsi!

hahahahaha that is hilarious

long story short is just that keith lemon is a disreputable character (and i mean character literally, he's not real, he's played by leigh francis!) who spends a lot of his energy shouting and oogling over boobies etc

i think it's fair to say hating on white supremacists does bring us all together 😅

i'm sorry i haven't seen it! but ugh tamsin greig is one of my longest-time crushes fr i actually think the friendship between her and stephen mangan is one of my roman empires. i have a list of scripted tv rewatches i plan to do this year — the thick of it, peep show, and so on, some of my faves ever — and green wing is def on the list so maybe i'll add friday night dinner!

—————

PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS / NON-PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS FAQ / TAGS / ASK

[katkat030]

1 6 8

hello!!! and omg good pick of questions ty :D

1 - 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

home, home again (i like to be here when i can)

The title is taken from the lyrics of Time by Pink Floyd, imo the Ethubs song ever. Clock motifs my beloved.

6 - 💾What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

I'm going to grab a title from another WIP that... I'm not sure I'll ever publish tbh, I just think it's too funny not to write, even if it's just for myself.

Yup. A keysmash. I think it's fitting for what the story's looking like atm lmao

8 - ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

OKAY GOOOOD QUESTION

^ this turned into an essay I'm so sorry my inability to be normal about them is showing

You'd probably need context to understand the significance, seeing as this is based off someone else's au (Shepscapade's DBHC au) which in turn takes android mechanics from the video game Detroit Become Human- firstly, here's the illustrated guide that Shep made on all things android, feel free to skip to the second half/most recent addition to the post for interfacing!

And a LITTLE bit of background (I'm trying to keep this short and I'm so sorry I think I failed) - at one canon point in the au, Etho, an android, tries to do something called interfacing with Bdubs, a human. (here :D)

- That's not something that's possible, by the way, it's only things that androids can do with other androids - and something that, as the illustrated guide explains, most would shy away from doing unnecessarily.

- And I think for Etho to accidentally try to do that in what's still relatively early on in their "friendship" with someone who isn't even an android is pretty crazy (huge display of trust + intimacy afsdljkflll)

ANYWAY all that is to say is that after the incident, you'll notice Etho's wearing gloves (something Shep pointed out in the tags of the "Etho interfaces with Bdubs" post).

Looks like somebody really wants to avoid embarrassing himself with a repeat.

But say they've been gardening the entire afternoon. Say Etho's gloves are tucked into his pocket. Say they hold hands while they're lying down. Say Etho accidentally tries to interface with Bdubs again, now another season of their developing relationship down the line. Oooh boy that would be awkward wouldn't it >:)

And that's the scrapped idea! I stopped in the middle of writing that scene to really think about the implications. And imo the display of trust that it would be for Etho to consciously, deliberately decide not to pull away, despite being startled by Bdubs holding his hand... idk I just think that's better :3