#im also assuming this is for some writing

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[soft-sweater-viking]

I could be totally under-informed but speaking as a european... I aint ever seen anyone give a shit abt whos cut or uncut and why that is...

I’m working on something where some Europeans laugh at an American guy they know because they think it’s stupid to be circumcised for health and now I don’t know how to resolve it other than him feeling hurt and wishing his parents didn’t follow the doctor’s advice :( any… “tips” please?

By working on I assume you mean you’re writing?

I don’t know how to help you because I don’t know what you’re going for. Do you want the Europeans to actually decide the American guy is cool? If not, what’s wrong with him feeling hurt and wishing his parents didn’t follow the doctors advice? I know plenty of guys who feel that way.

My instinct is for the American guy to tell the European guys a horrific story about how his foreskin got caught in someone’s braces or something and had to be removed for medical/health reasons, leaving all the European guys with their jaws dropped in shock. But I have no idea if that fits with the plot or the character arcs you have in mind.

Always happy to help! 😀

[catgrandpa]

I started this post with the intention of asking for fic recs where Bruce gets his kids early, but then I ended up just writing some ficlets

_(:3 」∠)_

I still really just want recs I swear but I wrote these anyway and am incapable of doing more with them so here

☆彡

Dick Grayson is 8 years old when he watches his parents die. Bruce is 24 years old when he sees a young boy’s life fall to pieces. He’s far too young to be a single father. But he sees too much of himself in the child, and he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to walk away from him.

He talks to Alfred about his fears of only furthering Dick’s trauma by failing him as a guardian. It takes some time, but Alfred is able to convince Bruce to find a therapist and take some discreet parenting classes. He’s still Batman, and I don’t think he’s capable of Gentle Parenting™ but he does do better. Plus, Dick is young enough to learn to read Bruce before the teenage hormones kick in so they manage to communicate much more effectively with each other.

☆彡

Bruce meets Catherine Todd by chance because there was a cool park Dick wanted to stop at. She’s trying to deal with her hungry and fussy 3 year old step son, but she’s young and stressed out and hungry herself and she just doesn’t know what to do. Bruce offers to take them out for lunch. He asks Dick to take Jason to the play area in the corner while they talk.

She breaks down and tells him of her struggles with addiction. She does her best to keep Jason fed, but it’s so hard. Feeding him means she goes hungry most of the time because she can’t quit using. Jason wouldn’t survive if she had to go through withdrawals with him.

He’s not even her kid! Not really. Her husband is just an abusive deadbeat so she doesn’t have a choice. She does love him, but she never wanted kids, and she can’t just let a child die when she can do something.

Bruce fills their fridge and cabinets to the brim (he offers to do much more for them but that’s all she will budge on. She has too much pride to accept outright charity, but she will do what she can to keep her kid safe) and he makes it clear to her that he is willing to take care of Jason for however long is necessary when she decides to take the first step to get clean.

Two months later, Willis gets arrested and Catherine shows up at Wayne Manor and tells Bruce she signed up for inpatient, but she thinks it would be best for Jason and for herself if Bruce would be willing to take permanent custody. She stays in Jason’s life, just not as a mother figure.

☆彡

A year or so later, Bruce gifts Alfred with a vacation as an early birthday present. Things have been hectic with the sudden acquisition of two sons, and Alfred has done so much, he deserves a break. Bruce promises he’ll be able to handle two kids on his own.

Turns out, he was mostly right, but only just barely. The kids are fine, the manor not so much. He ends up hiring a few services to help out with general housekeeping. A couple of those workers also happen to be regular hires for the Drakes.

Bruce overhears them talking about how sad it is that those awful people treat their toddler more like a doll than a child. He learns that not only do they leave for long periods at a time while not hiring a proper nanny to watch over their son, just expecting the help to take care of him, but they also lock him away on his own whenever it’s ’not fashionable’ to have a 2 year old around.

Alfred comes back to the manor on August 15th, just in time to celebrate his and Master Jason’s birthdays together. He opens the door and dodged around a very excited 4 year old jumping up and down in the entry hall.

“ALFIE! ALFIE! BOOSE GOT ME A BABY BWOTHER FOR MY BIRFDAY! LOOK! LOOK! HIMS NAME IS TIMMY AND HE’S THE BESTEST!”

Alfred leans over to peak behind the boy, and sees a very quiet, very small child standing behind him.

“Oh, dear.”

☆彡

The day Bruce got the call from Talia telling him she was pregnant with his child was one of the best days of Bruce’s life. The day she called to tell him she miscarried was one of the worst.

The only blessing was that he didn’t need to explain it to his kids. Talia was going to move in once she was in her second trimester, and they planned to reveal her pregnancy together.

He got the call two weeks before her flight out. He begged her to come anyway, he loved her, they could still be a family. She refused.

Six and a half months later, he walks into his bedroom to find Talia standing by the window with a squirming bundle in her arms. With equal measures steel and sorrow in her eyes she tells Bruce she is sorry for what she put him through, but it was the only way to keep their son safe. He gathers them both in his arms and holds them tight as she explains.

Her father had planned to raise an heir to be the Demon Head. He would be kept a secret from Batman until the very end. But when Talia gave the final push to birth their son, he came out quiet. She panicked for a moment until her midwife quietly leaned down to listen to the baby’s breathing and then looked up with a soft smile, she bundled up the small thing and handed Talia her baby. Big beautiful green eyes blinked up at her. The midwife leaned closer to Talia and whispered, “Sadly, your son was stillborn. I’m deeply sorry for your loss, but surely The Great Head of the Demon would be willing to allow you some time away from your duties while you recover.” Talia allowed the woman to cover her beautiful cooing baby gently with soft linen and silk and carry him from the room. Later that night she left her home with her son and boarded the first flight to Gotham.

Tears gather on Bruce’s lashes and he tells her everything will be alright because now they can finally be together as a family. Once more, she refuses. She tells him Damian and his boys are far too precious for her to bring the danger of the league of assassins to their door. Bruce closes his eyes in sorrow, but nods his acceptance. He asks her to at least stay the night together. They fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms with their baby boy safely bundled between them. Talia is gone when he wakes.

☆彡

It’s been one week since Talia left and, while still beyond upset, Bruce feels like he’s starting to have a decent handle on things. He is sitting with his boys at the breakfast table, Dick and Jason to his left, Tim to his right, Damian in his arms, and Alfred across from him. They’re finally able to have a relaxing breakfast. No babies crying, no food fights, no arguing, just the sounds of eating and gentle chatter.

He feels a small hand grab his right sleeve and give a gentle tug.

“Boo?” Tim asks, quietly. Bruce feels his heart warm at his son finally feeling like he can speak up without permission.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why isn’t Big Sister sitting with us?”

Alfred is the only person in the room other than Tim to not startle at the sudden appearance of a 5 year old girl standing next to Bruce at the dining table. He simply sighs, stands up, and grabs another place setting for her at the table.

[pettyprocrastination]

thinking about how as Aemond’s wife you are the model of perfection. 

Your back is straight as you curtsy when you first meet him and hair neatly braided with fine jewels. Your voice is even and never waivers as you speak to him of your family and how grateful they are for this union. 

You are intelligent and beautiful, the perfect wife. 

It’s why Aemond hardly ever spends time with you. 

He bears no ill will toward you, of course. There is no resentment or hatred to his lady wife, but there are no fond feelings either. 

He knows of courting and romance, his mother taught him everything from a young age. The poor woman would hold her son’s hands tight and explain that a man must not only respect his wife, but truly cherish her. Love her in the eyes of gods and men. As he grew older he noticed the way his father would wave off her constant advice and concerns until the dreaded night where she was the only one defending him after he lost his eye.

But practice was one thing. When you were nothing but a concept. A figment of Aemond’s imagination when he was ten and marriage was only spoken of during his lessons. Before he lost his eye. Before he heard the ladies of the court whispering about his mutilation and before he watched a whore flinch at the sight of his scarring when Aegon dragged him to a brothel on his thirteenth name day. 

He learned then that no matter how much he would love and worship his wife, it would not be returned. 

Rather than attempt to force it (he was no brute and had no intentions of doing something so cruel) he simply let you be by yourself. 

Yes you were married. You sat by one another at every meal and formal event and on the rare occasion he would even ask for your hand in a dance. But Aemond’s affections toward you were few and far to find. 

But there were moments. 

Where his icy facade would weaken and you found yourself able to slip through the cracks. 

Alicent had told you of his “moments” when the engagement had been announced. The queen herself taking you by the hand as you walked through the garden and explaining gently of Aemond’s condition. 

“There are times where he feels a great deal of pain because of the-” She paused, chewing on her cheek while trying to find the most inoffensive way to describe the tragedy that befell her son. “-incident he had as a child.” 

You knew enough of it. Many rumors flew through court the day Aemond targaryen walked in with a patch on his eye after Laenor Velaryan’s funeral at driftmark. Some day it was from a sparring incident, others say it was a mark he bore from the first time he mounted the mighty vhaegar. Others say that the Rouge Prince Daemon Targaryen himself gave it to his younger cousin after crude words were exchanged behind closed doors. 

You didn’t know what was the truth. Aside from the day the princeling got his scar, was the same he got his dragon.

A fair trade, some would say. 

But they didn’t live with the attacks he did. 

Nerve damage, is what the maester’s called it when you asked them for more information. His wound may have healed years prior but the prince would continue to live his life with constant bouts of mind-numbing pain brought on by the slightest touch or too sharp of a wind to his cheek. 

“Senseless fits.” Aegon called it. When he heard about your curiosity about his brother’s condition he had all but cornered you late at night in the hall. “Anything will set him off and send him throwing a tantrum like a belligerent child. It’s quite entertaining.” 

But there’s a moment where the elder brother frowns and you see a shred of concern in his eyes. 

“He doesn’t like to be touched during those moments. It makes the pain worse. So if you’re trying to find some way to comfort him I’d recommend you do something else.” 

What was ‘something else’ you learned, was simply being there. 

Sitting by his side when he curled into himself, trembling fingers reaching out to grab yours and not complaining when his nails dig into the palm of your hand as he cries out in pain. When his breath evens out and the pain subsides, he crawls to you and presses his face to the crook of your neck. He’s far too tired to cover the gnarled scar covering the side of his face but you show no fear or disgust at the sight of it. Your fingers run through his hair, gently combing back the silver tresses and ignoring the tears that stain the shoulder of your gown. 

The next morning your husband would wake in your arms and takes a moment to watch your peaceful expression and the way the morning sun kisses your skin. 

That day Alicent notices her son sits closer to you at breakfast, speaking softly to you of something she cannot understand. But when she sees his hand reach out and grasp yours, she smiles. 

[dustykneed]

Hello! Random whipper snipper! Share a WIP of your work!

ooh, with pleasure. six the musical araleyn fanart? in the year 2k24? more likely than you think xDD

i realize this looks finished, but technically i'm still deciding whether to add a background or not lol. still, for the sake of sharing a proper WIP, here's a line or two from an araleyn brainworm WIP that i started reworking yesterday (mild tw for religious guilt and period-typical internalized homophobia from aragon's pov):

She remembers sharing her bed with Anne at Henry's behest, remembers the nights of tossing and turning and trying not to think about Anne asleep next to her-- remembers waking up to dark hair spilling across her pillow and the press of blood-warm bosoms against her own, softer than sin, as hot as the Devil, remembers lying still as death, mouthing prayers into the heat of Anne's neck like an act of penance.

[bogkeep]

stars finally aligned for me to watch castlevania: nocturne and oh, i like it so much more than i expected to. i was dragging my feet because i gotta be in the correct Mood for dark and violent shows and i'm not familiar with the games and don't know any of the characters etc etc etc.

anyway. i don't usually have a lot of interest in vampires as monster in and of itself, the whole blood sucking thing just holds no interest to me - the one aspect i DO find very interesting is vampires as immortal former humans. what i like about the castlevania cartoons is that they have vampires from many different eras and cultures, which is Exactly what i want from vampire stories, so i'm sold. what i like about nocturne specifically is that they have made the allegory explicit - vampires as the oppressor class, nobility and slave owners, and set the series during the french revolution. that's so tasty. that's so good. placing a vampire slaying series in a historical context, and a world where vampires are Known entities and not secret monsters is so delightful. i am so glad i'm finally watching this

[raelyn-dreams]

In light of fine's event announcement, I would like to formally welcome Eichi to the "Event 5-Stars Going Through The Horrors™️ (2024)" squad.

[thepartyishere]

Bsd music venue (band) au inspired by the rock concert I just went to

The Port Mafia all work at a venue that mainly hosts rock and similar concerts

The ada is a band that frequently plays there

Tachihara is the sound/tech guy totally jamming out to the music with the crowd, he wanted the job as a way to go to concerts for free (but he still does his job well)

Gin does sound and tech too, they get along well. Gin is especially good bc they know sign language and teach others so they dont have to try to shout

Akutagawa is the weird kid working the merch table, no one really gets along with him but he gets the job done well. He has a bizzare way of organizing and doing things that irritates anyone else but he claims its faster

Mori technically owns the place but is never actually there, Kouyou runs it with help from Chuuya and Verlaine (all three are step siblings via Mori so it's kinda family run)

Chuuya runs the bar as well

Verlaine is never seen, he remotely does finances and boring stuff

Kouyou is the main manager/ highest besides Mori. She does booking and other stuff

Dazai used to work there but quit to join the ada band, now he comes to concerts just to bother chuuya at the bar

Hirotsu does hiring and training, hes been working there the longest, since before it was sold to Mori. Everyone knows him and likes him

Higuchi is head of security and manages security people as well as supervises and creates the id checking and security process to enter the venue

Whenever the ada plays there Atsushi sneaks off to make out with Akutagawa at the merch table

DazaI also sneaks away to be a bother, usually to Chuuya

Kunikida is the manager that travels with the ada, Fukuzawa doesn't travel

Kunikida and Kouyou in particular get along very well with how often they work together and their similar way of doing things

The band is made up of Dazai, Atsushi, Junichiro, Kyoka, Kenji, Ranpo, and Yosano

Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Naomi, and Haruno are all behind the scenes staff

[hermitagereheadcanons]

this isn't an ask or a request, but I hope you could still post it, because since I found this account the wave of love for this fandom crushed me yet again

not to disclose who I am too much, but here's a fact: I was dealing with pre schoolers as a part of my education(or, well, practice). around the same time I discovered the wonderful world of hermitcraft age regress fics. I myself don't regress, but I find those works insanely comforting. anyways I mentioned my education because, while in fics the looking after might be Way to soft and all-allowing (that YES can be very bad even short term), most of the works show it really well. and not just comforting, but as if the authors know Very Well they are portraying not a parent figure per say, but a "cool uncle that looks after you" type character and I LOVE IT. maybe this says smth about my childhood, maybe it's the overwhelming feeling of love coming from a friendship, but still. kudos to everyone who writes age re in this fandom, I love you.

I still haven't explored the topic of age regression as a study (meaning: I haven't really looked up the real world instances), but I have a feeling that learning about this phenomena in psychology feelings-first from a fictional work was a good idea.

Your ask has actually reminded me why I love this blog. I've been a bit out of touch with the fandom lately, but the sense of community that comes from gathering around something so niche is really nice and I love hearing about it.

I'm glad this type of content can be comforting and enjoyable even if you don't regress!

Also, when I originally had the idea to start this blog, there was very little agere-related content in this fandom that didn't emphasize a parental, set-in-stone caregiver as a key feature. I'm happy to see so much more variety in how people portray it in relation to friends and partners.

[dallonwrites]

actually making my tags from my last post into their own post. writers who struggle with grammar, spelling, typos, errors etc i love you. writers who struggle with rereading their stuff thoroughly no matter how much they try, who don't always have access to other people to help them read i love you. whilst reading through and checking for these things is good practice i really believe that the weight of it should not be put wholly on the writer's shoulders. especially writers who are neurodivergent, disabled, have any condition that can impede their reading + comprehension, are overworked and overtired, are not writing in their native language, list goes on....because grammar mistakes/language mistakes/typos have nothing to do with your abilities as a creative. this is where editors should be uplifting writers, helping them, not scrutinising them for something they cannot always control

[13eyond13]

actually stunned by how gay The Beatles has been all this time and I just never knew

[milkweedman]

The colors of the copper on blackberry dye seem to have shifted from maroon to a very rich milk chocolate brown--which I will hardly complain about, since that's a hard brown to get. I do hope I get something more permanently reddish/purplish with alum--that's what I'll try next. I'm just waiting for the 9 pounds of raw fleece to arrive.

Last night I carded a lot of that blackberry dyed fleece and then put it on the blending board with about half of the white (which was the previous distaff dressing) as a little stripe to one side. Idk, just curious how it'll turn out and seemed more interesting to spin that way. Carding first definitely helps with consistency--both colors were willowed first and put on the blending board, but only the brown was carded as well, and it is much easier to keep smooth and least kind of even.

The one improvement of this phone camera over my old one is that it has a timer setting, so I can actually show where my hands normally are (sometimes anyway). Fairly comfortable although my distaff hand is starting to cramp. Might just be one of those days or might be too heavy for me, but the shape at least is good.

You can probably see that the white is still all over the place, but the brown is pretty even, just with lumps still on occasion. Also, the new height of this spindle means it's perfect for lap spinning rather than impossible to lap spin with, so I'm very happy about that.

[motherforthefamicom]

redownloaded an old art program

[ghost-proofbaby]

OH god, sooo many kellin fics. Most were on wattpad honestly.

A lot of them all blur together (also a few kellic fics yikes), but I specifically remember one with an OC? Like kellin cheated on his wife with her and she nearly died or something? Classic wattpad and shitty summary but IT WAS SO GOOD. I think the girl's name was Brooke or Brooklyn. (also keep in mind this was 2012? 2013? wattpad. so... maybe not good by our current day standards but back then it was AMAZING). I can't remember the name but if you want it I would be willing to go on the deep dive for you 👀

SAY FUCKING SIKE RIGHT NOW.

you don't need to deep dive for the fic. her name was brooklyn mackenzie or some stupid shit, the fic's name is 'The Secret Affair', and it's going to haunt me until the day i die because i wrote it at 13 years old.

congratulations, nonnie. you can officially say you are one of the og readers of my fics. i certainly hope my writing has improved this last decade.

(unless there was another popular kellin fic with the exact same plot as mine. in that case, this is embarrassing).

[antirepurp]

i think some folks may need to have the word "queerbaiting" revoked from their vocabulary until they learn what it means. perhaps

[cold--carnage]

can someone please help end my vicious and unending self-fakeclaiming cycle