#it's always a joy to write something for you

[sir--crow]

Writing is a CRAFT. it's something you build, something you paint like art, bringing words together to create a beautiful story. AI could never replicate that.

It will never replicate the years of young writers learning how to write. (I started off using Name: for dialogue) I didn't know how to write in third person or second. I just wrote. And I wrote. I started in middle school, wrote my first official fanfic in freshman year, wrote my first story sophomore year, and now in college I'm continuing my hobby of writing fanfiction to keep my skills sharp.

It's always been a joy to learn how to write, and I'll never understand why people won't just TRY. it doesn't matter if you don't know how, what matters is the idea and the process of TRYING.

if I started out with dialogue like this Name: in a Death the Kidd x reader on Wattpad in 6th grade, then u can write too.

ANYONE CAN WRITE

This is the worst timeline. (x)

[mattrempeswife]

A LITTLE LOUDER NOW

pair: luke hughes x singer!reader

genre: fluff, romance, established relationship, feel-good.

warnings: announcement, lots of fluff, overwhelming happiness, public cheering, light cursing (out of excitement), major crowd reactions.

summary: as a world-touring singer and as luke longtime girlfriend, you’ve always had the support of your fans and luke, the new jersey devils’ hockey star. during your loud, sold-out concert stop in new jersey, you finally reveal the secret you and Luke have been keeping for months. between laughter, tears, and a double surprise, it’s a night no one will ever forget.

fia’s note: i’ve actually been quite into the idea of luke and a famous reader lately, so i thought it would be really fun to write something based on that! this piece is actually inspired by a few real-life artists who announced their pregnancies on stage, i always thought those moments were so special and emotional, and i wanted to capture a little bit of that magic in this story.

Prudential Center is now vibrated with pure, electric anticipation. You stood behind the curtain, bouncing on the balls of your feet, heart hammering in your chest.

Your oversized black shirt draped down to your mid-thighs, hiding everything you weren’t quite ready to reveal, at least not until the right moment. Your fingers absently brushed over your rounded stomach beneath the fabric, feeling the tiniest flutter of movement. They always danced when you were about to go on stage. Like they knew.

“You’re on in five,”

Your stage manager called, shooting you a thumbs up.

You turned, and just before stepping into the spotlight, you caught a glimpse of Luke he smiled at you with a soft, private and a look that said go make magic, baby. Your chest squeezed with love.

You blew him a kiss and mouthed, I love you.

Then the curtain lifted and the world exploded.

The roar of your fans was deafening, the kind that vibrated in your bones. Thousands of voices screaming your name, hands shooting into the air, the whole place alive with so much love it was overwhelming.

Grinning, you ran to the front of the stage, arms wide open.

“NEW JERSEY, ARE YOU READY TO HAVE THE BEST NIGHT OF YOUR LIVES?!” you screamed into the mic.

The response was a wall of sound, like a tidal wave hitting you straight in the chest.

Laughing, feeling weightless with joy, you launched into your opening number. The setlist was carefully crafted a balance of your biggest hits and the songs your true fans had loved for years.

Even though you moved a little differently tonight, swaying, bouncing, careful not to do your old flips and spins but it didn’t matter. The fans didn’t care. They sang with you, for you, as loud as they possibly could.

Three songs in, you stopped, breathing heavily but smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

“You guys,”

You panted into the mic, wiping your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt.

“I missed you. I missed your crazy energy. You’re unreal tonight.”

Cheers answered you, hundreds of phones lighting up like a galaxy in the dark.

“I wanna try something fun,”

You said, pacing slowly across the stage.

“You know how I always talk… tonight, it’s your turn.”

Your crew passed a mic into the pit. Hands shot up, thousands of them.

You pointed, laughing, “Alright, who’s gonna be brave?”

After some scrambling, a younger girl with glittery face paint ended up with the mic, her hands visibly shaking.

“Hi!” she squeaked.

“First of all, you’re my hero. Second, uh, is Luke here tonight?!”

The whole place went wild again, chants of ‘LUKE! LUKE! LUKE!’ filling the air.

You placed your hand dramatically over your eyes, pretending to scan the crowd.

“Hmm…” you teased. “Let’s see…”

And then, grinning wickedly, you turned and pointed directly at the VIP section near the stage.

“There he is!” you cried.

“Of course he’s here to support his girl!”

Spotlights swirled over and sure enough, there was Luke, standing tall, wearing a Devils cap low over his messy hair and a black hoodie. He clapped sheepishly, cheeks flushed pink but grinning with pride.

The crowd went absolute feral, chanting his name louder.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something you could barely hear over the noise, but you saw it clear as day.

“THAT’S MY GIRL!”

Your heart swelled so much you had to physically press a hand over it to keep from crying.

“You guys are gonna make his head bigger than it already is,”

You joked, making the crowd laugh.

“He’s not allowed to steal my show, okay?”

Another fan raised her hand quickly. The mic was passed again.

“If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?” she asked eagerly.

You laughed. “Oooh, that’s tough. But honestly? Mac and cheese. I’m not even ashamed.”

The crowd cheered approvingly.

Another fan spoke up next.

“If you could switch lives with Luke for a day, would you?”

You wrinkled your nose playfully.

“I love him, but no way. Y’all, the amount of bruises and missing teeth in hockey? Nah. I’ll stay right here with my mic, thanks!”

Everyone burst out laughing, including Luke, who dramatically pretended to faint.

One more question flew at you, and you smiled warmly when you heard it.

“What’s the best advice Luke has ever given you?”

You paused, thoughtful.

“Honestly?” you said softly,

“He always tells me to be proud of myself. Even when I feel like I’m not doing enough, he reminds me that showing up and trying is everything. And… that’s stuck with me.”

A gentle chorus of ‘aww’ rippled across the arena. Luke smiled so wide it was practically blinding.

And then…

A quieter voice from the crowd, hesitating but brave:

“Um, okay,” she said,

“We’re just wondering… why have you been wearing such massive clothes lately? And not dancing much? There’s a rumor you might be, uh… y’know… pregnant?”

Instantly, a hush fell.

Thousands of people holding their breath.

You laughed softly into the mic, heart hammering. This was it. This was the moment.

You slowly started pacing back toward center stage, holding the mic loosely in one hand.

“Alright,” you said, your voice warm and teasing.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything yet… but you guys know me better than that.”

Fans started screaming already, sensing it.

“I was hiding it,” you admitted, grinning.

“I didn’t want the paparazzi to ruin it. But… you’re lucky I love each and every one of you so much.”

You reached for the hem of your oversized shirt.

The place went dead silent.

Slowly, with a big, dramatic flair, you pulled the shirt up and off, tossing it to the side.

Underneath, you wore a fitted white tank top and your baby bump was impossible to miss.

Rounded and adorable, it pressed snug against the fabric, proud and perfect.

You held your arms out wide, beaming.

“YEAH!”

You shouted, your voice cracking slightly with emotion.

“I’m pregnant! I’m gonna be a mama soon!”

The arena exploded in screams, louder than anything you had ever heard in your life.

But you weren’t done.

“And just so you know,”

You said, pointing a teasing finger at them all, “I’m not about to pop yet.”

The screams quieted slightly, eager to hear more.

“It looks this cute because…”

You grinned, dragging it out.

“I’m having twins!”

The crowd lost it completely, screaming, crying, jumping. Total chaos. Pure love.

You wiped tears off your cheeks, laughing breathlessly.

Cameras cut to Luke again, who was standing now, both hands shoved in his hair, looking like he was two seconds from bursting with pride. His mouth formed a perfect oh my god before he just started clapping wildly, his whole face lit up like the sun.

Your heart squeezed so tightly it almost hurt.

“My little family’s growing,”

You said into the mic, voice wobbling.

“And… I couldn’t be happier.”

The fans started chanting again. ‘MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!’ and you pressed your hand over your bump protectively, smiling so big your face hurt.

The next songs you sang, you couldn’t stop smiling. Every chorus felt bigger. Every verse felt sweeter.

You even danced a little, swaying and cradling your bump while fans threw baby-themed gifts onto the stage tiny Devils onesies, knitted booties, mini hockey sticks. You picked up one of the tiny onesies and held it up, laughing so hard tears ran down your cheeks.

“How — are insane,” you sniffled happily.

“But I love you.”

Toward the end, you sat down on the edge of the stage, feet dangling off, just talking with the crowd.

Finally, the night wound to a close, you stood up, wiping tears away.

“New Jersey always mean something to me and Luke,”

You said into the mic, voice thick with emotion.

“And this is where I wanted to share my biggest news. Because… you’re not just fans to me. You’re also a close friend.”

You pressed a hand over your heart.

“Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving us.”

With one final blow of a kiss toward the sea of faces, you walked off the stage and straight into Luke’s arms waiting.

He scooped you up carefully, spinning you in a slow, gentle circle.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your temple.

You clung to him, laughing and crying at the same time.

“I can’t believe we just told everyone,” you hiccupped into his hoodie.

Luke pulled back, framing your face in his big hands.

“And you killed it, babe. God, I’m so proud of you.”

He bent down, dropping a soft kiss to your stomach.

Then another.

And another.

“Hi babies,”

He whispered against your bump.

“Daddy loves you.”

Your heart completely melted.

You ran your fingers through his messy hair, whispering back,

“We love you too.”

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Hi I'm a reader, not a writer. I hope you don't mind the question. I often see writers saying how much they love comments, or being sad that a fic has too few comments, that it demotivates them to write more. At the same time, it's bad etiquette to leave critical comments for fanfiction, they should only ever be positive. So what if I didn't like a new chapter, was disappointed etc. Is no comment better than a fake praise comment? What do you recommend?

if you don’t like it, you don’t have to comment anything at all.

while (positive) comments are encouraged and deeply appreciated, fanfic writing and reading are supposed to be something that bring us joy. so — personally, if you ask me — no reader is under obligation to give someone a fake praise, because then that’d mean they read to praise the author and that is… not the point of reading fanfic for fun as a form of self-care.

if you like something, sure, you’re more than encouraged to let the author know you appreciate their work (and I say “encouraged” not “forced” or “expected”), but if something is not for you, you can always just exit it and find something else to read without commenting anything on that work that is not for you (unless the author specifically and directly asks for constructive criticism).

[itsnesss]

hii i was thinking if you could do a KA12 fic with the song "i miss you im sorry" or "i love you im sorry" by gracie abrams? Plus love your style of writing!💗

𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 | kimi antonelli × fem!reader

summary | you receive a call from kimi, who apologizes for everything and admits he misses you

warnings | angst, emotional conflict, broken relationship, unresolved feelings

word count | 1.2 k

🖇️ more ka12 🖇️ f1 masterlist

The hum of the city outside your apartment window felt distant, like it belonged to someone else, to another life. Inside, it was quiet, almost suffocating. Your room was tidy, too tidy for the kind of chaos that once filled it. The bed, the desk, the walls—everything was in its place, but it didn’t feel like home. It felt empty. And it wasn’t just the space. It was the absence of him.

Kimi.

You hadn’t spoken in months. It seemed like a lifetime ago, that time when you couldn’t escape him, when every argument, every laugh, every touch felt like it was imprinted on your soul. But now… now everything was just an echo. His name on your phone screen was the first reminder of how much time had passed.

You sat there for a long while, just staring at his name. Kimi Antonelli. A knot tightened in your stomach. The memories hit you harder than you expected, crashing over you like a wave you couldn’t outrun. The good, the bad, the moments of pure joy, the moments of furious fights, all wrapped up in one tangled mess. And somehow, they all led back to him.

The first time you met him felt like destiny—chaotic, unexpected, but inevitable. He was brash and loud, never afraid to speak his mind. He’d challenged you in ways no one else had, pushing your buttons, testing your patience. But somehow, it worked. In the midst of it all, you found something beautiful in him, something real. You both fought, you both disagreed, but at the end of the day, there was always the promise of something more.

The sound of your phone vibrating again snapped you out of your thoughts. You hesitated, the weight of your emotions pulling you in different directions. But then, as if against your will, you answered.

"Hello?" Your voice was hesitant, unsure, the cracks in your facade showing. The silence on the other side of the line only made your heart beat faster.

"Hey." Kimi's voice was soft, but it carried the weight of everything that had happened. "I… I’ve been thinking about you."

You closed your eyes, a wave of emotion flooding over you. It was the kind of ache you couldn’t ignore, one that lived inside you, gnawing at you, growing louder the longer you tried to suppress it. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words were stuck in your throat.

"I miss you," he added quietly, as if it were a confession. "I’m sorry for everything, for how things ended. I shouldn’t have let it go like that."

His words hung in the air, heavy with regret and longing. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "Kimi… why now? Why are you calling me after all this time?"

There was a pause, a long one, filled only with the sound of his breathing. When he spoke again, it was slow, measured, as if he was carefully choosing his words.

"Because I can’t get you out of my head," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice raw and real. "I’ve tried, but… I miss you. I miss us. I miss the way we used to be."

You felt a tightness in your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. His words had opened a door you thought was long closed. The pain, the hurt, the fights—it all rushed back. And yet, there was something else, something deeper. The longing. The love. The part of you that still wanted him, despite everything.

"I miss you too," you finally whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "But it’s not that simple, Kimi. It’s never been that simple with us."

You could hear him exhale on the other end, the sound of frustration mixed with relief. "I know," he said. "I know it’s complicated. I know we’ve both messed up, but… I can’t help it. I keep thinking about the fights. About how we’d scream at each other and then… and then everything would be fine again. And I don’t want to lose that."

The memories flooded your mind. The arguments that started over something small and escalated into something huge. The yelling, the harsh words, the broken dishes. But then, like magic, it would all disappear. The apologies would come, and somehow, despite the chaos, you both found a way back to each other. You remembered how those fights, while painful, were a part of you. How you both knew how to hurt each other, but also how to heal. You missed that. You missed him.

"Do you remember that time in your old apartment?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "When we fought about everything, and we broke a plate? And then, just like that, we made up… but I didn’t know how much it meant until now."

There was silence again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if he was savoring the moment, remembering it just as vividly as you were.

"I remember," Kimi said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "I remember everything. I never wanted to hurt you, but sometimes… sometimes I didn’t know how not to. I guess we both got lost in the chaos."

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. "I don’t want to go back to that," you said softly. "But I can’t pretend it didn’t mean something. I can’t pretend I didn’t feel it. All the fighting, all the chaos—it was just… us. And now it’s gone."

Another long silence. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if you were ready to face the reality of what he was offering, of what he was asking. The past was painful, but it was also familiar. And sometimes, familiarity was all you had left.

"I don’t want to let go of this," Kimi said, his voice almost a plea. "I don’t want to lose us. I miss you, and I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone."

The weight of his words settled on you, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to feel everything. The love. The pain. The regret. All of it.

"I miss you too, Kimi," you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek. "But I don’t know if I can go through that again. The fights, the pain… I don’t know if I can handle it."

He didn’t answer right away, but you could hear him breathing, steady but heavy. "I don’t know either. But maybe… maybe we don’t have to go through it again. Maybe we can start over, and this time, we can try to make it right."

You closed your eyes, thinking about the possibility. Could you really go back to him? Could you find a way to let go of the past and build something new? You didn’t know. But for the first time in months, you wanted to try.

"Maybe we can," you said softly. "But we have to promise, Kimi… we can’t keep repeating the same mistakes. We have to be better."

"I promise," he said without hesitation. "I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work. I just want you in my life again."

And for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could try again. You could heal. You could forgive.

"I miss you," you whispered again, your voice filled with the weight of everything you hadn’t said in so long.

"I miss you too, he replied, and in those words, you found the beginning of something new.

[pukefactory]

A lot of people have asked me this and I think it’s about time I write something more detailed. So here’s:

PukeFactory’s Guide On Writing Dream BBQ ENA! (My Way)

1. She is a contradiction. Start there.

Dream BBQ ENA is a creature of duality, but not in the gimmicky way. Her emotions swing like a pendulum carved from glass—delicately unhinged. She will comfort you with a whisper like starlight one moment and then yell at a tree for looking at her weird the next. Her logic is surreal but never nonsensical. It’s sincere in a way that bends gravity. She means it, even when it makes no sense. “I think you’re a treasure map, but I lost the key, and also the concept of directions… but I still wanna follow you.”

2. Her voice is fragmented but honest.

Write ENA’s dialogue with a rhythm that feels like a glitched lullaby or a mixtape made of poems and outbursts. Use capitalizations, glitches, or dream-logic metaphors, but keep them emotionally grounded. “OH—oh no. Oh no I said the wrong thing. AGAIN. Hold on—REWIND, REWIND—Can I have a second take of that hug?”

Her speech patterns jump between:

• Soft and strangely poetic:

“You remind me of the feeling before lightning hits.”

• Loud and unfiltered:

“I ATE A ROCK OUT OF SPITE! I’D DO IT AGAIN IF IT MEANT YOU’D FORGIVE ME!”

3. She doesn’t understand relationships—but she craves connection.

ENA often sabotages closeness by accident. She’ll say something jarring mid-hug, not because she’s cruel, but because she doesn’t understand the rules. Intimacy terrifies her. Not because she doesn’t want it, but because she wants it too much. “Wait—was that love? Oh no. I thought it was just heartburn. Or like… something… BEYOND heartburn. Wait, come back!” She learns through interaction. She reflects. She messes up and tries again anyway. She’s endearing because she’s trying—not because she gets it right.

4. Her emotions are surreal landscapes.

Instead of saying “ENA is sad,” describe it like: “She paced in figure eights, muttering apologies to imaginary dogs and invisible moons. Her smile was brittle. Like candy glass.” Or instead of “she’s angry”: “Her eye twitched like a jammed film reel. She bared her teeth at the air, yelling something about betrayal and unripe peaches.” Dream BBQ ENA doesn’t feel things linearly. Her inner world is a Salvador Dalí painting on fire with longing.

5. Her body is unstable; use that.

Dream BBQ ENA’s body shifts and jerks. Her facial expressions glitch. Use this for emotional emphasis:

• When she’s anxious, maybe her smile freezes too long.

• When she’s excited, her voice pitch spikes into television static.

• When she’s afraid, her colors invert or her mouth refuses to close.

Her body is a mood ring coded by a trickster god. Let that reflect her emotional state in the scene.

6. She uses weird metaphors because reality doesn’t fit.

She compares people to:

• Clouds shaped like broken promises.

• Paintings that make her cry for no reason.

• Broken clocks that still tick in time with her heart.

Let her speak in beautiful nonsense. It’s not “random.” It’s instinctive, raw, and emotionally precise. “You’re like… a sunset that happened inside my lungs. You make it hard to breathe. I like it.”

7. She is not just a joke character.

Even when ENA is funny or awkward or loud, she is never just a punchline. There’s a quiet ache under everything she says. She was made to observe, to wander, to experience without truly belonging. Write her with that bittersweetness in mind. “I think I’m the kind of person who touches joy but drops it before it sticks. Like I’ve got oil on my fingers, or maybe I am the oil.”

8. Let her be messy. Let her be sincere.

She doesn’t always say the right thing. Sometimes she runs away instead of talking. Sometimes she laughs too loud at the wrong time. Sometimes she feels more like a glitch than a girl. But when she says “I love you”? She means it. She really, truly means it—even if it sounds like: “If you exploded right now, I’d collect all your little pieces and make a shrine. Because you matter. Because you always did.”

9. Tone: melancholic absurdity with heart.

Dream BBQ ENA lives in a world that feels like a dream and a fever. Your tone should balance whimsy with gravity, joy with grief, glitchy chaos with honest love. She is a reflection of people who feel too much and understand too little—but never stop trying to connect.

10. In summary…

• Speak in fragments, but write with intent.

• Let her emotions be surreal, shifting, and raw.

• Give her dialogue layers: poetic, jarring, sincere, awkward.

• She doesn’t understand love—but she chases it anyway.

• She’s not a clown. She’s a girl made of glitch and feeling and static and sweetness.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 28/04

@worldweary-walker asked: Dad Egbert's genre friction with Homestuck is fun. He is about Serious Business… but he can take a joke! He has the very efficient Wallet Modus, but used a safe to store the note. A man of contrasts. A man of mystery…

Genuinely, the fact that he legitimately was a prankster despite his normie aesthetic is one of my favourite things about the man. Let's hope Dad Crocker is the same.

Anonymous asked: now that you've met her, the final Namco High character is Jane. you still can't play Namco High yet (I think the collection will automatically inform you when it's no longer spoilers) but soon. soon.

The fact that Namco High might actually include plot spoilers for Homestuck is hilarious.

In lieu of evidence to the contrary, I'm going to assume it's the only piece of Homestuck-adjacent media which actually explains the Aspects.

@honestlyvan asked: I hope whatever is going on with you is easygoing, and you don't feel too pressed about this side-project, tbh. I would also rather you take your time with it and enjoy yourself. @marineofthestars asked: 13/04? @gl1tchypyr0 asked: Are you planning anything for 4/13 because Homestuck day? Anonymous asked: so happy you're back! @ramdomartkid asked: Happy 4/13!!!!!!

Thank you - happy to be back!

Don't worry too much about the recent hiatuses - none of them have been prompted by anything serious. Sometimes, I'm just excessively busy, and need to catch my breath a little!

Anonymous asked: rereading your archive, dropping in a couple of my personal miscellaneous voice hc's while im here! John: Abed Nadir (Community) Feferi: Mabel Pines (Gravity Falls) Doc Scratch: The Narrator (The Stanley Parable)

Doc Scratch as the Narrator is inspired, and Mabel fits Feferi surprisingly well.

I've still never seen Community - and, in fact, I'm not sure I even know what it's about. I know about the pizza meme, of course, and I think they play Dungeons and Dragons at one point?

Anonymous asked: Is Sally being introduced to in-fandom memes at the point in the comic where they would have been popular, or are we just going off when they stop being spoilers?

(More the latter. If people want to spread the memes around, then as long as it isn't a spoiler, it gets a pass. And frankly, the two are usually pretty close together. - Vamp)

Yeah, what usually happens with Homestuck's major memes - Pantskat, for example - is that I'll get several asks referencing it immediately after it stops being a spoiler. My spoiler policy being what it is, I'm generally made aware of them during my next ask session after the fact!

@semaphoricwave asked: Hypothetically, if somebody wanted to write a fic about your trollsona's dancestor, would that spark joy or would you rather the hypothetical somebody didn't? The story you've laid out is fascinating and I (I mean, the hypothetical somebody) would really enjoy digging into it, but I also understand if that's not something you'd be interested in people doing with your trollsonas. Also follow-up in case it does spark joy: any other facts about Sahlee Senior that would be of interest to that hypothetical somebody? Either way hope you have a good week!

Absolutely! I'd be thrilled to read any fics involving my OCs. I've DMed you a short character profile on the Hostess that you can use for reference - and if you have any specific questions, feel free to ping me!

Anonymous asked: Just r3ad thr0ugh y0ur liv3bl0g, and I want3d t0 say h0w much I l0v3d r3ading it. Sup3r happy y0u d3cid3d t0 try 0ut th3 3pil0gu3s as well!¡! @heattth asked: I just wanted to say, I've been rereading the whole liveblog and it is a very fun experience. Thank you for having written it.

Thanks a bunch - it's always nice to get messages like this.

Seeing a post's note counter go up is a very abstract way to get feedback. Like, I'm aware that a ton of people are reading (and hopefully, enjoying) the posts, but it's still hard to conceptualize - so asks like this are a great way to make it feel real. I can see irrefutable evidence that people really are having a good time on TheWertsearch dot com, which is all I really ask for.

@mhafanlol2000 asked: Do you think about how Dave and Rose’s prophesied hero’s journeys both ended in suicide. What do you think that says about them? If I have to constantly think about this then so do you.

I think what it says the most is that Sburb loves suicide. It's the default way to achieve the God Tier, after all, and according to Terezi, the game actively wants the children who play it to wrestle with their own mortality.

This, to me, is one of the most explicitly malicious aspects of the game. It's really not necessary to achieve Skaia's stated goals, and I'm unconvinced that traumatizing these children makes them more effective custodians of a universe.

@caliquill asked: dropping in to say - jane is maybe my favourite homestuck character so it brings me great joy to see you cracking at her flaws in a genuine manner. thank you :]

Jane's great so far. She's not a carbon copy of John - and, honestly, she feels like the most unique of the B2 kids so far.

Hussie already had a framework to build on with Dirk, Roxy and Jake, but Nannasprite's main traits were 'grandma', 'ghost', and 'clown', none of which should logically transfer to Jane. She had to be mostly original.

@spiddermen asked: bowman just released a new track for the 16th anniversary! it's awesome and doesnt have any spoilies, it's called on the thirteenth day

Ooh, I'd love to give it a listen!

If anyone can link me a non-spoilery upload of the song, I'd appreciate it. YouTube and Bandcamp are both danger zones, and I'm not sure where else you might find it.

@faggoatquixote asked: “GT: Right o! If a man believes hard enough in imaginary things then i dare say that makes them slightly less fake!” Sounds a lot like talk from another Page boy I know… Rufio anyone?

Which is kind of weird, right?

I assumed Jake's 'belief' schtick was due to him being a Hope Player - but Tavros has said some similar things, and he shares Jake's class, rather than his aspect.

I suppose not every character trait has to be informed by a Player's Title. After all, Jade used to be defined by her clairvoyance, and she's no Seer.

@bellcarved asked: In defense of Jake, he lives alone on an island and has literally run out of people to talk to about this (unless he were to do something like ask Jane to hand her phone to her father and got advice from him)

Oh, for sure. Everything these kids are doing wrong is totally understandable, due to their frankly bizarre home lives - and Jake, in particular, appears to have been living completely alone on that island for some time, which is bound to stunt the guy's social development.

In retrospect, I'm kind of surprised that Jade turned out as well as she did.

@bladekindeyewear asked: And as expected, Kid Bro's hair is ALSO a bird, just a different one than Dave's.

Dirk's just trying to blend in with the local fauna, like his brother before him.

@elkian asked: A fun fandom trend is to give the ectogroups portmanteau names. "Strilondes" was pretty easy, but the Prospit quartet presents some difficulties and is usually an unholy amalgamation along the lines of "Crockerberts" "Harlenglishes" and the ambitious combination of all four like "Harlegbercrockerenglishes" and so on. (I feel like there was a particular one with a lot of staying power but can't recall it exactly.) There's still Reddit threads of the debates around here and there.

This is why I just call 'em the Prospit squad.

I tried to make something that's at least pronounceable, and came up with the Harkersherts. Not a lot of English in there, though.

Anonymous asked: "and I’d bet Boondollars to donuts that Jake and Roxy have 'em too." Come on, 'boondollars to bronuts' was right there.

Damn it! I really do need to step up my bro-punning now that our second Strider has entered the story.

@ben-guy asked: (in regards to your theory about B2 Dave having memory leaks possibly making him interested in Con Air) "something about an old friend" Emphasis on the "old" in this timeline lmao

Oh, good point. It is possible that Dave could have met Poppop Crocker at some point, especially if he was in contact with his Seer sister.

Maybe it wasn't his pre-Scratch memories. Maybe he learned about Con Air directly from the source, after all. <3

Anonymous asked: ”Kneel before Cal” Lil’ dude even if you don’t Know. That’s hella ominous yo

Dirk feels like the kind of guy who doesn't realize how foreboding some of his sentences actually are. He'd do numbers on Tumblr, and you know it.

...I guess, technically, he has done numbers on Tumblr. lmao

@elkian asked: Jane-Dirk is genuinely one of my favorite character dynamics in the entire comic so I'm delighted that they're resonating with you, too! Their conversations are so fun.

Yup! As I said, I'm really happy that Jane, in particular, is not just a remix of John. The way she relates to her friends is quite different from anything we've seen from Egbert - or anyone else, for that matter.

I really hope that this friend group doesn't collapse into some sort of nightmare love quadrangle, because I really am enjoying these dynamics, and I want to see more.

Anonymous asked: Do you think that when you are done for the day you could note that? Maybe as a tag or something? Then people would know to stop checking to see if you add another post?

I would, but the problem is that I never really know if I'm actually done for the day - not until the day is already over. See, I usually just liveblog until I get distracted, and often return later in the evening for a second round - that is, if I haven't fallen asleep before I've had the chance. Perils of ADHD, I guess.

I suppose I could add such a tag the day after a liveblogging session, but that sounds like it'd be too late to be useful for your use case. :/

Anonymous asked: Okay, so Lil' Bro gave both Jake the Brobot, and Jane Sebastian. What do you think Roxy's inevitable robo-buddy will be like?

There is absolutely no universe in which it isn't a cat.

Anonymous asked: Sorry about the spoiler! A while ago, I did some testing on YouTube and incognito mode because I was curious, and I found that, unfortunately, Google isn't fooled by it. YouTube's algorithm definitely prioritizes things you watch in normal mode, presumably to be subtle about this, but it also definitely knows what you watch in incognito. The effect becomes more obvious with an account that watches zero or very few videos in normal mode. (I tested this 3-4 years ago, so I can't say for certain that the specifics haven't changed, but I don't see why they'd have stopped doing this since then.)

Targeting algorithms are just too damn good these days. All I can really do is avoid watching Homestuck videos on my main account, employ a VPN, and hope for the best.

Anonymous asked: More like DORK strider

Fuckin' get him!

@mrjocrafter asked: I mean, you did get this three months ago

Those names were listed in order of likelihood - so yes, I expected it to be Dick. I really did.

Dick Strider seemed like exactly the kind of move Hussie would pull...

@library-seraph asked: Fun fact: when Dirk's name hit the comic, people were upset it wasn't Dick. Hussie still used tumblr back then, so they made a post saying that, as a small dagger, dirk is still a dick joke, and they're annoyed people would want them to go for the lowest hanging dick joke Anonymous asked: You're not alone. A significant majority of the fandom at the time also expected "Dick", enough that Hussie actually addressed it by saying that would have been too on-the-nose. IIRC, Hussie also described "Dirk Strider" as sounding more like a male porn star's stage name, while clearly implying that this is a major upside.

...but I suppose that's exactly why they didn't.

Low-hanging fruit is all well and good, but you can't always choose the path of least resistance, or your story will just keep getting flatter.

@shelbybunny asked: remember this post you made when you liveblogged jack: ascend, and how you wished they had a poster of that sburb shot? well good news PS: i’m pretty sure you can take a look at the full store now, but i’d have someone double-check just in case

(The store is, in fact, spoiler-free now. - V)

Oh, hell yeah!

I'm not going to pretend I'm not tempted - and not just by the poster, either. Those captchalogue boards look great, too.

In order to preserve just a little bit of hope for myself, I'm not going to look up the shipping costs to Europe until tomorrow.

@clueless-rarito asked: While Dave rambles fells a lot like a stream of consciousness that just spills out randomly in the middle of conversations, Dirk's fell extremely intentional and precisely deployed, make you fell he meticulously choose each word to be as full of complete bullshit as humanly possible.

Turns out, Rose and Dave's vibes blend together almost seamlessly. I could probably have told you they would beforehand, but it's still great to see it in action!

@sanctferum asked: Heiress Sans Parent could just refer to Jane's ectobiological origins as a true paradox rather than the beta kids who have ectobiological parents. (The alpha kids are clones of themselves, after all.) Well, either a reference to that or a hint that Dad Crocker is secretly a funny skeleton man.

It better be something like that. If Dad dies again, I'm ragequitting.

@aceotaku asked: when it comes to Jane's scepticism, while being a product of the Condesce's subliminal messaging IS a possibility, Dirk raises another one: that Jane simply only believes things if she's seen them with her own eyes directly, if she has direct proof of them. She's seen prospit in her dreams, she has no reason to think anything anyone says about it is wrong. The things she dismisses are things she hasn't seen directly and thus just thinks it's not true for reasons. or maybe I'm wrong XP

Nah, that's a good take. Jane's a bit of a cautionary tale, then, about how stubborn empiricism can severely limit your understanding of a concept or situation.

Sometimes, you really do have to take a leap of faith.

@liliflower137 asked: Hello!! I only just started reading your liveblog and I just want to say I love your commentary SO much, I read it pretty late (just between it ending and it being sold to viz media so the old website was still around) so my FAVORITE part of homestuck was always the mechanics of sburb, the alchemy stuff is just so cool!! So seeing you theorize about things and talk about how data structures work makes me so so happy, I hope you're having lots of fun!!!

Thank you! I really hope we get some post-Scratch alchemy binges - but sadly, I don't think it's guaranteed, as we're unlikely to be rehashing everything we've seen before.

Even so, there's got to be more we can learn about Homestuck's alchemy system... right?

Anonymous asked: congrats on finally reaching the end of one of Homestuck's Biggest Jokes. The Gift Of Gab.

I'm still hyped over those Dialoglogs - not least because it removes the main metabarrier which was preventing these kids from hanging out in person.

Let's fucking go! It's time!

@sashonya asked: Oh yeah, just a small aside as I'm sure you're going to realize in a bit. It's better to say the full "Act 6 Act 1" instead of "Act 6.1" since the intermissions also count as "Act 6.1"

Hmm. Well, it's pretty easy for me to edit my organizational tags retroactively, so I'll see what format works the best for me, going forward.

Generally, I prefer for these tags to be shorter, though - so if Act 6.1 Intermission needs its own tag, I might write it as Act 6.1.I, or something.

@jack-off-valentine asked: When, exactly, did AH pull an Aradiabot?

I initially asked myself the same question - but by now, I've learned to treat Hussie interludes as the breaks from canon they are.

We're probably never going to be told what's up with robo-Hussie, the same way that we'll never learn why Falkor the Luck Dragon has Lord English's cueball eyes. It's just Hussie being Hussie.

@pineapple-temporarily-moving asked: "By now, Jade should know why she arranged for herself to grab the Wall - but she's acting like she only did it because Karkat told her to. Maybe I'm just misinterpreting what she's saying." future jade told karkat to tell past jade to captchalogue the window because she remembered being told that by karkat (and karkat telling her that she told him to tell her that). it is simply one of homestuck's ubiquitous causal loops and it ultimately technically was only because karkat told her to LOL

Oh, god damn it, you're probably right.

Damn stable loops and their originless information. As much as I love time travel stories, this still has to be one of the least satisfying ways you could possibly resolve a plot thread.

@sanctferum asked: So, Jade, who just became a god tier Witch with striped leggings and ruby red shoes, levels up to Sayonara Kansas as she and John embark upon the Yellow Ruler Yard. Her god-tier self was formed from her living self and Jadesprite, a version of herself too cowardly to do anything despite her incredible power. Jadesprite used to be Dream Jade, whose physical counterpart on Earth was, thanks to Grandpa's inventions, a robotic version of Jade rather than Jade herself. A tin woman, one might say. Dream Jade herself was, prior to her death, notably absent-minded in a way no other dream self has shown themselves to be. It seems likely Hussie originally intended all dream selves to be this way while "asleep", but in the end only Jade acted like her brain was sleeping along with her body. And said dream self ended up being stuffed, of course. Do I need to elaborate on who Toto is in this analogy? No, I don't think I do. Original waking Jade is Dorothy. Jade's all of the Oz cast at once!

Even better:

The climax of Dorothy's story is her learning to teleport!

[danikamariewrites]

marrying mob!az please 🩷 loving your writing so much 🩷

Note: thank you anon! Today is the last day of headcanon bingo. Thank you for playing along and celebrating 3k with me 🫶🏻 I appreciate you all so much

Warnings: none

When Azriel decided to propose he called a meeting while you were out

Who was in that meeting? Only the most important people. Cassian, Rhys, Mor and Feyre

Their opinions mattered most when it came to how he proposed and what kind of ring he should get you

Once Azriel told the group he’s proposing they all started screaming and jumping for joy

Cassian tackled Azriel

Mor, Feyre, and Rhys just held hands and spun around in a circle

Complete chaos, all Azriel’s fault

He was starting to regret asking them for help

Once order was restored Mor and Cassian tried to take over on ring design

Everything was overwhelming Az until Feyre, calm and helpful Feyre, shushed them. “I think this is my area of expertise.” And she was correct

That afternoon Feyre guided Azriel to this small jewelry shop. Az was confused at first. He wants to get you a nice expensive ring. Not something from here

“I see your scowl and I’m asking you to trust me on this. I know y/n, Azriel.” He took a deep breath and held the door open for her

He was so wrong about the shop. Each ring was handmade and custom. The jewels expensive and only made with the best silver and gold. Feyre was a huge help. Reminding Azriel what metal you wear and helping him design a piece of art you can wear forever

5 agonizing weeks later when the ring was done Azriel rushed to pick it up

He didn’t know if he should wait and plan the perfect moment or if she should just get on one knee now

Azriel was very nervous he’d misplace the ring and he would never forgive himself

That’s when the perfect idea hit him. Dinner in the gardens, just the two of you, and he’d propose that night

You truly had no idea Azriel was proposing

He did a good job at hiding it from you

Cassian and Rhys almost ruined it. And Azriel’s money was on Mor and Cassian not being able to keep their mouths shut, not Rhys

You’d never seen Azriel so nervous in the moments before he got down on one knee

You were crying as you said yes. Once Az slipped the ring in your finger (a perfect fit) the two of you wouldn’t let go of each other

A few weeks later wedding planning was in full swing

You had a wedding planner, decided on your date, destination, and venue

All that was left were the small details even though there was no such thing as

Azriel was committed to doing everything with you

Picking the napkins and seating, cake tasting, and if he could go dress shopping with you he would

On the day of your wedding Azriel sent a pair of earrings to the bridal suite that match the stone in your ring along with a note telling you how much he loves you

You do your vows in private after the ceremony

The vows Azriel has for you are for your ears only

The two of you dance all night

You can’t stand being away from your husband for more than 2 minutes of you drift away to greet a guest or get a drink

Azriel can’t keep his hands off you and keeps calling you ‘my beautiful wife’ and watches you blush like crazy

After the ceremony and party you two go home and in the morning head straight for the jet for your honeymoon

Married life is perfect with Azriel

It’s like you guys brought the honeymoon home

Azriel has been happy no matter what news he’s given at work

It’s ok, if something goes wrong he can just go hug and kiss his wife and it’ll be all better

He spends more time out of his office just so he can say ‘I’m going to go see my wife’

You two go on walks just to get out of the house during the day and he loves hearing you talk more than ever now

You’ve always yapped at him but there’s something different about it now

When you two go to an event Azriel loves introducing you as his wife

And you love telling people ‘oh, my husband is looking for me. Excuse me’ or ‘my husband loves that’ or ‘my husband is the same way’

You swear you fell more in love with each other ever since you got married

[stellar-solar-flare]

I am seeing a lot of posts that have to do with 'I want to read things other than smut'. This is definitely not a call-out post because the sentiment is something I certainly understand (as someone whose #1 fic preference - if I had to read only one thing for the rest of my days - is long, plot-heavy multi-parter fics with romance and slow burn, and eventual smut).

But I wanted to point out two things:

1: Smut gets notes, both because people seek it, and because smut writers stick together and interact with each other's fics. If you want to see more non-smut, interact with fics that contain the elements you like. If you want silly, whimsical fics, read, comment, share, and write those. If you want tooth-rotting fluff, seek it out and interact with them and make your own!

2: Even as I will always hold that a writer should always first write for themselves because the story brings them joy, it can get very lonely if you're writing a longfic and it's crickets out there until it is finished. If you want there to be long, multi-parter fics, you need to read and interact with WIPs. It takes time to do setup and establish characterization in a long fic, and it is also hard work (I am by no means implying that writing smut isn't hard work). It is the constant fear that the next chapter will make everyone dislike the fic, or that I'm not doing a good enough job with pacing/character/and so on. So there needs to be some sort of incentive to share the story in a finalized form and accept that vulnerability that maybe no one cares, or worse, maybe I actively drive away the people who do care because their expectations weren't met.

It is so important to remember that YOU (and us all) have the power to be the change you want to see in fandom and create your own lovely corner of exactly what you want. You do this by participating via comments and sharing fics, so the author knows someone wants to read this, and creating your own fics. In the end, fandom is a community. Fandom is us.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

my blog is a space that celebrates positivity and is inclusive of all! the sturniolo triplets and writing/reading fanfiction bring me joy.

I don't know why anyone would want to take the joy out of something like that by being mean towards the boys themselves or through derogatory language that harms the fandom community as a result. it's not funny, it's just hurtful and it makes people feel sad.

I hope everyone involved takes the time to reflect on their actions and pursues more positive and community minded behaviour in the future.

I also hope everyone takes care of themselves today, and if you ever need to talk, my blog is always welcoming to those who want to spread positivity and comfort.

I enjoy being a part of fandoms because of the shared joy brought from community interactions. I sincerely hope that everyone in the sturniolo fandom can hold that as their primary intention when interacting with others, rather than contributing to harmful and disrespectful behaviour (on any level). promote positivity and inclusion always.

that's all!

take care and much love, inez 🫂🍪🩷

[the-peak-legend-of-first-gen]

HELLOOOO okay so. I know this is a weird request, so feel free to decline at any time. But…

Can I request a break up scenario with Gun and reader? Like reader has known him since they were kids because family and they had to get married eventually and that stuff. But reader lived her own life after gunny went to korea and meets him only a handful of times since she studies abroad? And its like no secret that gun was involved w other women. I hope i explained that well enough. Sorry if it’s too much tho! You can always just ignore it :P

With much appreciation and Love

~T

Hi ♡ no its not a weird request but thank you for requesting and trusting me to write this. Hope you enjoy and if you feel there is somewhere I lack or need to work upon feel free to tell✨️

Laughter and giggles of small children echoed through the air. Shintaro kept a watchful eye, noticing how well the young master and you got along. How could he be wrong, after all? He had carefully arranged the match, and so far, everything seemed to be going just fine — or so he supposed.

"Gun, throw that ball toward me!" you commanded.He looked at you, then threw the ball with full force. You stumbled back a little but managed to catch it nonetheless.Your lady-in-waiting rushed over immediately, her face stern."Young miss, you shouldn’t be playing such rough games, especially with your future husband. It’s not good for the [Clan Name]'s reputation."

"Future what?" you giggled with a toothy grin before darting off."Let’s go!" you shouted to Gun, who, surprisingly, followed you.

But before you could get too far, Shintaro stepped between you two.His towering stature and menacing face frightened you a little, so you instinctively clung to Gun’s kimono sleeve. In response, Shintaro handed you something odd — a traditional toy, a ball attached to a string that had to land perfectly into a cup.

"Interesting..." you murmured.Just like that, the two of you spent hours playing, competing to see who could get the most wins, carefree and young.

That night, a loud slap shook the household — and you. You were only just beginning to understand the violent ways of the Yakuza world, but what shook you even more was what followed: Gun barely played with you after that, no matter how much you cried or threw tantrums.

Haruto would play with you sometimes, but no one wanted to be near Gun anymore.And little did you know — that was only the end of the beginning, the first step in how he would slowly but surely drift away from you.

🥀

You were starting to understand what it meant to be bonded with Gun — he wasn’t just the future hope of the Yamakazi clan, but regrettably, your would-be husband.

The thought made your stomach churn in the worst way possible.Come on, you were only in middle school! That actor you saw in the movies was way more handsome, and he definitely knew how to treat a lady right.

"Should we go for ice cream?" you asked him one day.

"No. I have work to do," he replied curtly.

Work this, work that. Mother said this, Mother said that. Father will be pleased, Father will decide.

That was all that ever went on inside his head.

"Just today, please!"

He observed you for a long moment, a sigh escaping his lips."Fine," he said at last.

You jumped with joy, your eyes sparkling.

Gun stared, confused. Why were you so happy? It was just ice cream. What had he done to make you react like this? Where were the grand efforts?

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt your small hand slipping into his.This isn’t so bad, he thought, strangely at peace

."Why are you so happy, dumbass?" he asked.

"Oh, because you finally agreed to go somewhere with me!" you said, grinning.

"That's it?"

"Yeah! And don’t forget — I’m getting free ice cream!"

"What free ice cream?"

"You’re paying, of course," you teased, sticking out your tongue.

Maybe this was what family was supposed to feel like.He tucked the thought away into a quiet, hidden corner of his heart.

Who cares, anyway?

But he did care — when he saw that tiny smile on your lips, when he noticed how his shoulders relaxed around you, when he realized he hadn’t clenched his fists in a long while.

Who cares? You did.

And you cared when that idiot — himself — left for another country.You cried not because of him, but because of what it meant for the future.Where had he gone? Would he be safe?

Who cared?Did you care?He wasn’t around anymore, but he hoped you were safe. He hoped your clan aligned with the right faction. He hoped you would marry —Who cared?---

🥀

"Idiot! You don’t know I’m allergic to these!" you yelled, throwing the chocolates at him. He dodged them casually."I’ll bring something else next time," he shrugged.

And true to his word, when he visited your university, he brought exactly what you liked — the right flavor, the right brand, the right packaging.You threw your arms around him, clinging like a koala, and he instinctively held you by the waist.

But something felt... off.

The scent clinging to him wasn’t his.You knew he slept around. It was normal in your world, accepted even — but still, the heart wants what the heart wants.

"So, what were you doing before you came here? Did you visit the places I told you about?"

"I wanted to explore them with you," he replied.

Your heart eased — but not entirely.

"Are you still sleeping around?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

He was caught off guard for a second but regained his composure quickly.

"None of your business," he said flatly.

"It is my business," you retorted.

"We’re engaged, and we’ll marry soon. I do have a say."

His soulless eyes seemed to pierce right through you."And what is your say?"

"Stop it," you said firmly.Not a plea. Not a request. A command.

Whether he would listen or not, only time would tell.

When you got intimate, he wasn’t as rough as you had expected.There was a delicacy to the way he touched you, held you.But your mind wandered — was this how he treated others too?

Shouldn’t this tenderness be something only the two of you shared?

It wasn’t just that. His infrequent calls and texts had started gnawing at you.You felt like you were overthinking, but you weren't — and every time you tried to bring it up, Gun brushed you off.

"You have too much free time to think about nonsense," he said.

Instead of communicating like a mature couple, he would resort to what he knew best — showing his devotion in bed, claiming every inch of you as his.And even though he gave you his body, your doubts never truly went away.

His devotion was laser-focused elsewhere — on Charles Choi.

So you decided to do what was best — not just for yourself, but for him too.

🥀

"It’s not working," you said.

"We’ve hit a wall," you said.

For the first time, Gun truly saw you.

Not the cute, energetic girl from the playground — but a devastatingly beautiful woman.It wasn't your curves or your skin that he noticed — it was your spirit.

The same commanding, boisterous spirit, wanting what you wanted, even if it went against tradition.

Despite everything, you were willing to do the unthinkable — to leave.

Maybe if he had been different, if he had given loyalty to you and not just Charles Choi, things could have been salvaged.

Maybe.

But it was too late."Well, if that’s what you want," he said. "It’s fine, I guess.

Who cares, right?

No more Goo ogling at you.

No more international trips.

No more stupid dates and boring occasions.

Your safety and well-being — none of his concern anymore.

So why did he feel like his chest was caving in?

When he finally said, "It’s fine. I understand," his tongue felt heavy like lead.

When you kissed him for the last time, tears burning your cheeks, he tasted the salt of your heartbreak.

When he saw your retreating figure disappearing from his life — he felt it.

He cared.In his own way.

Maybe not the way you wanted.

Maybe not enough.

You two were collapsing binary stars — once brilliant, now destined to destroy each other.

But he cared.

And he loved you and that's why he had to leave.

So maybe in another universe you two care openly, shamelessly without any burdens or doubts?

[vidavalor]

hi! back with (yet another) word nerdy question. (I’ve brought cookies this time!) in the 1941 episodes, Crowley refers to the church as “consecrated ground” but furfur calls it “hallowed ground”, i was wondering what your thoughts on that were? always love reading your metas!

Hi there, @the-ineffable-parker 💕 Thank you muchly & what a very fun topic! Alright, throw on some Hozier 😂 so we can talk about what the story's ongoing discussion about how the show's discussion of what constitutes consecrated ground, including this consecrated vs. hallowed contrast, might have to say about themes around autonomy and authority.

I have also had more than one anon send me a request for stuff on consecrated ground so *radio voice* this one also goes out to all you lovelies who were not only nice enough to ask but who gave me an excuse to look at Aziraphale-as-Crowley in the bathtub during an otherwise kind of irritating week. 😂

TW: Mentions of Heaven & Hell violating bodily autonomy.

Consecrated vs. hallowed is an example of offering the audience a pair of near-synonyms for the purpose of having a conversation about the themes that come up when looking at the differences between these words. There are others like this in Good Omens, too:

Welfare vs. quality of life. Magician vs. conjurer. Job vs. profession. Seller vs. purveyor. Father vs. dad. Master vs. boss. The historical mister vs. doctor debate. Lift vs. elevator, etc..

So, what of consecrated vs. hallowed?

Technically, both of these words mean that which is considered to have been made holy through some sort of rite or ceremony. You wouldn't use them interchangeably, though, because one of the words-- hallowed-- has evolved to also have a secular meaning, whereas consecrated has remained a word that-- unless you're writing something blasphemously sexy 😉-- would still just be used exclusively to describe something faith-based.

Hallowed ground can be theatres and libraries and historic buildings and the like but, when we're talking about physical locations, consecrated ground is still considered just places of worship and burial sites and other religious places.

Hallowed is an example of a secular evolution of a word in a direction away from its original, religious meaning. There are many that have gone that route and also many that have been stolen by religious groups. Good Omens focuses attention on quite a few words in these crosshairs, like passion, profession, joy, and halo. Contrasting hallowed with consecrated allows the story to have a discussion about how linguistic evolution away from religion reflects many, if not all, humans also evolving away from it.

The word hallow is a pretty-much-obsolete-unless-you're-writing-a-press-release-for-The-Vatican word for a saint, which is how it came to mean that which is holy. This is also the etymology of why we call the holiday at the end of October 'Halloween', from its earlier name of All Saints' Eve.

Halloween is pretty much the most perfect evolution away from anything once at least somewhat related to Christianity that has ever existed 😂 and the evolution of hallowed is much the same so it doesn't surprise me that a demon like Furfur would prefer to use the word hallowed over the word consecrated. The demons were all ex-communicated from Heaven so they're all for humans blasphemously evolving religious words away from those types of meaning.

This is where we have to get into the big question that bringing up these words in the first place asks of the audience, though, which is:

Who gets to say what is holy?

Good Omens' theme of autonomy is freedom is, unsurprisingly, interwoven with its theme of recognizing your own authority to author your own life.

We sometimes might think that there is a higher authority who can answer things for us-- someone more powerful than ourselves. We might be prone to thinking that fallible human beings who are seen by some as holy should be granted authority by us when it comes to influencing our thoughts and actions. In thinking this, we're selling ourselves short and allowing others control over us. It impacts our ability to self-determine and impedes our freedom and our health. The effects of this are so dangerous that it puts our lives at risk.

There are people, often some men, who will say that there is a God who has granted them the power to speak for them. That their word is God and that if you aren't following their word, you aren't following the word of God, and that means you are evil. You are a demon. You are a heretic. You are anathema. You are a sinner and will be forever damned. And they will use this power they claim comes from God to maintain their own power and while controlling and abusing others.

They will try to poison your mind with self-loathing and try to convince you to harm yourself by repressing yourself and denying your own needs. They will try to tell you what to consume with the body that is, at once, both supposed to be seen as a celestial temple but also repugnant and unholy with impure needs for which you should repent. They will, if you let them, cause you to starve yourself in every possible way there is to do so.

They will try to tell you that you're sinful if you desire or love another consenting adult of whom they don't approve. They will try to tell you what to wear, what to eat, how to behave, to most exemplify what they consider to be pure, and not accept that you might think differently. They see your body as belonging to them and do not recognize your autonomy.

These are just people. They have no authority that you don't give them. They do not care about you-- they want to own you. They will harm you to maintain their own power. You do not need to listen to them. You are the judge of you. Autonomy is freedom and freedom cannot be had by listening to people who try to do you harm. You are the higher authority you're looking for.

The question of who gets to decide what is holy? is, really, also the question of why should anyone recognize as a holy authority anyone who does not respect the sanctity of a person's right to autonomy?

If you notice, Furfur isn't really shocked that Crowley was able to get into a church and remain unharmed. He isn't all omg how did he not go up in flames upon crossing the threshold?! He's just surprised that Crowley elected to go into a church at all, since the whole thing about all the original demons is that they were all thrown out of Heaven. This goes along with other scenes about consecrated ground that we've seen in both seasons.

It seems that the insides of churches are considered the domain of Heaven by the demons, who, as the metaphorically dead, prefer to haunt their territory of churchyards. This would make sense since we've already seen many other scenes showing demons walking across what would be considered consecrated ground without issue, like Crowley, Hastur, & Ligur in the churchyard in 1.01, and Beez in the Edinburgh graveyard in 2.06.

This is where we can also see that there's a question of whether or not there's even such thing as consecrated ground in the 'will burn a demon' sense in Good Omens.

If four demons have been seen walking around churchyards and if Crowley has been drinking Chateauneuf-du-Pape from vineyards in Avignon-- the former site of the papacy where every square inch of it was long ago consecrated by the Catholic Church-- then it's pretty clear that human beings, at least, do not have any authority to consecrate in the religious sense any bit of land or water or the like.

That would go along with the themes we're discussing here, as it effectively says that there is no human being on Earth with any divine power beyond the fact that every human being is a divine star child because being human itself is what is supernatural. The Earth itself is all consecrated ground and should be treated as such but, say, parish priests blessing water and land and all that is not really doing anything.

This would mean that all genuine holy water in the series-- like the stuff that killed Ligur-- would need to be made from or blessed by a literal angel. The "holy water" in the church in 1941 was just water, which is what Crowley was joking about, but he'd later apparently felt that he found some actual holy water in some church by 1967 that he had been planning to rob. Considering that Aziraphale knew about it, it's likely that Aziraphale was even the one who had blessed the water in that church.

This is even if holy water blessed by literal angels in Good Omens is real and, yeah, I say that even after Ligur, because you could argue that it's possible that Ligur believed it was real and that's really how he died. In a story where Crowley willed himself alive through the M25 fire and with the whole make it happen, make it real theme... I'm still not really convinced that holy water and hellfire are things unless you actually believe that they are. They well might be but I think that it's at least a bit open to interpretation.

Additionally, you'd think that the most consecrated place anywhere for a demon ever would be Heaven, right? That they should never be able to step foot back in there ever again, if any of this consecration stuff is real? Except, we've seen that's not the case...

Yes, you could argue that maybe Heaven and Hell did some magical exception thing to trade Michael down and Eric up in the holy water/hellfire part of S1 but Crowley strolling into Heaven in S2 would seem to negate that idea. It's more that angels can get into Hell and demons into Heaven but they mostly usually just don't because those places are considered enemy territory by one another, even if it's all the same terrifying office building.

Crowley explaining angels as bees to Muriel also showed that he already thought it was more a matter of blending in than getting into Heaven. And what did he do when he followed Muriel to their office?

That silly little hop dance, poking fun at the idea of consecrated ground, as he undoubtedly also was thinking about the church in 1941. Heaven, ugh, it's like being on a beach in bare feet! Let's hop to it, Inspector Constable, and get outta here... 😂 As we saw, he was fine to walk in Heaven, which makes it then pretty unlikely that he wasn't also fine to walk in a human church in 1941.

People are going to burn me at the stake for this lol but... I've always thought that things like this make it more than likely that Crowley was just joking about his feet burning when he entered the church in 1941. *ducks* Let's put it this way-- it's interpretable...

So, regardless of whether or not Crowley's feet were actually burning in the church in 1941, he's being flippant about consecrated ground and, as you asked, why might he use that word in this scene, when Furfur used hallowed and Crowley, honestly, probably often would, too, in other scenarios?

Because physical places, as we've mentioned above, are not the only things that people might consider holy.

Crowley has a very understandable distaste for how Heaven-- and Earthly churches like it-- say you are supposed to starve yourself of consumption and pleasure and keep "pure" the celestial temple of your body. Not only are these ideas just very unhealthy, Crowley is not about to let Heaven's ideas of bodily sanctity be his own when Heaven does not acknowledge and respect anyone's bodily autonomy, including his own.

Heaven abused him. They took his memories, burned him, gave him an unwanted snake side to his corporation. They called him evil and kicked him out and, as he put it when projecting his fall all over those poor goats in the Job minisode, had "given him up to be destroyed," which is a word that was once also used to refer to rape. He's talking about how Heaven declared him a demon, ex-communicated him, and said that, in their view, he and his celestial temple belonged to his rapist for eternity.

Crowley has religious trauma still as much as the next demon, sure, but, after all he's seen and that has happened to him, he is, ya know, going to generally be a hard pass on buying into Heaven's opinion on what healthy and holy is.

As it is, everything Crowley and Aziraphale believe are truly sanctified are all things with which The Metatron would disagree anyway.

So, in 1941, Crowley is walking into a Christian church, fully aware that he is literally the epitome of everything that church would say is a sin-- a queer, gender-everything, heathen of a demon. Just as Satan and The Metatron forbid relationships like Crowley and Aziraphale's, so did-- and still do-- many human churches like this one... and there was Crowley dryly aware that he was getting to the Nazi-laden church on time to roll up the aisle like he was soon to be Aziraphale's wife.

Whatever a wife is, as Jim so aptly questioned in S2, since that word has a long, patriarchal history implying an obedience that does not reinforce ideas of women being autonomous beings. This church Crowley's entered in 1941 would say that a wife should be subservient to her husband and that would be what would make her holy. Crowley and Aziraphale and their partnership of equals couldn't be any further from any of that.

Within the church, marriage is a sacrament, which is a type of consecration. It's the church sanctifying an union between people. It's an example of an exercise of authority that is supported by getting people to buy into the idea of their church being the only, true authority.

A marriage not sanctified by the church is, in the church's eyes, not a marriage. They define sin and a love that is seen as a sin can never be holy, in their view. This only matters if you recognize the church's authority.

Just as Heaven and Hell don't recognize Crowley and Aziraphale's love as holy, neither did this church. Neither did the country they were in, either, as it was 1941. Forget about it being illegal to marry Aziraphale at that time, it was still illegal in England just to be queer then, as it also was pretty much everywhere else.

Crowley entered the church knowing that the entire known universe at that time would never recognize his right to marry Aziraphale because it didn't even recognize their right to be themselves, live their own lives, claim their bodies as their own and make their own decisions about them. All of that was-- and still is-- pretty ironic to Crowley because there are things that he considers holy and his and Aziraphale's love is at the top of that list.

As Crowley entered the church, he was more than aware of how matrimonial all of this was. He was going up the aisle to Aziraphale at the altar in a place that preached that everything about them and their love was a sin. Regardless of whether or not you believe his feet were truly burning, Crowley was making fun of the idea that many people believe places like this church are the epitome of holy when, really, what is truly holy is much of what they call sinful.

He was being every snarky, traumatized queer whom the universe had dragged back to mass for a funeral or whatever, bitchily joking to his partner about how it was amazing that they didn't spontaneously combust upon crossing the threshold, evil, sinful heretics that they are. 😂 Argh, angel, I can't believe you're making me go to *church* to rescue you... oh, the consecrated ground-- how it burns my evil toes!

He knew he could get away with being thoroughly obnoxious about it because Aziraphale doesn't really disagree with him about any of this. Crowley's lover got humor. She's the giggle at a funeral. Crowley compares the non-existent physical pain to "like being on a beach in bare feet" and we've seen that he and Aziraphale use the sea to refer to sex so it's saying that this is all just the worst, having to romance Aziraphale by going into a church, but he's naturally there anyway because of course he is. 💘

Walking on a beach in bare feet is also basically the same thing, from a physics standpoint, as firewalking, which people have done as a religious rite/test of faith for ages. People of these faiths believe that being able to walk across hot stones and the like shows that one is holy because it must take divinity to do so. It doesn't. It's science.

It's literally just that the act of continued walking is what keeps your feet from being scalded. Your body is cooler than the stones and, since you're walking quickly over them, no part of your foot ever touches the hot stone long enough to absorb enough of the heat to burn the way that they would if you were to stand still over them. See above link, if interested, for how that connects to the theme of "walking the Earth"-- "professional cobbler"; "Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings Who Walk the Earth", etc..

There is something very dry about Crowley essentially riffing on things like consecrated ground burning demons and humans thinking firewalking sanctifies them because Crowley is literally a scientist who essentially was ex-communicated for suggesting that maybe there's more going on with the universe than it being there for people to be all "wow, God is amazing!" over.

On this theme, as we see Crowley's autonomy violated by Satan in 1.01, "Bohemian Rhapsody" is practically narrating it and Crowley grabbing the wheel to avoid the truck with🎵 Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo🎵 blaring through the speakers was connecting Crowley to another polymath who suffered a similar fate.

In the church in 1941, Crowley is on consecrated ground to him-- but not because he's in a church. Because he's there for Aziraphale, to whom he's utterly devoted, and their relationship is sanctified to Crowley. Their love is holy to them. Crowley keeps his little dance going mostly for the whole scene and you can see Aziraphale look at Crowley and smile at his shenanigans in the bit below.

Joking about consecrated ground and Crowley's humor about it in 1941 is also what I think might be behind Aziraphale initially keeping Crowley's feet out of the holy water during the body swap.

As we saw with Aziraphale's delight over telling Crowley about asking for the rubber duck, he was saying and doing a bunch of things he thought would not only help him to pass as Crowley but which would amuse Crowley when he told him later on. Being able to tell him that he was sure to keep his feet out of the holy water as much as possible would be something that Aziraphale knew was likely to earn him a laugh.

So, Furfur helps to illustrate that the demons are allowed in hallowed places like churches because places of worship truly are, technically, open to anyone there in peace. There are just plenty of people for whom the doors to the church are supposedly open but the hatred there is enough to make them feel less than welcome.

Furfur suspected that Crowley was up to something treasonous when he heard Crowley was in a church with someone because it made more sense to him for Crowley to be there with an angel committing treason than it would be for a demon to want to go to church.

While Crowley, on the other hand, called a church consecrated ground to use the purely holy connotation of the word to make fun of people who felt they could define holiness while not respecting bodily autonomy and personhood, including failing to recognize as sanctified love like that of him and Aziraphale.

In truth, what Crowley and Aziraphale are when they are together is also really the word that Furfur used-- they're hallowed. From the root kailo, meaning: whole, uninjured, and of good omen.

[a-grim-thin-hope]

I don't know if this is something any of my readers (if they are on tumblr or follow me or otherwise) are concerned about, but I'd like to state once and for all that I won't be locking my fics on Ao3. There's a variety of reasons but the primary are--well, you can't unscrew the pooch and everything on there is already taken. Secondly, I've been a guest reader for nearly six years or around there. The position I was in at home didn't allow me to create an account or use my email address, and being able to read fics for free meant so much to me, especially when they were so high quality and so entertaining. They gave me literal hours of comfort, so the idea of that being removed for people in my same situation is sobering. I've had so many guests tell me they loved my work, which is so honouring, and half of my kudos are from them. I don't want to take that away. AI and scrapers are unfortunately going to be a part of our lives now, and only increasingly so as technology improves. Writing fanfic has always been SOLELY for my own enjoyment and improvement, and with how intertwined our lives and interactions are with the Internet, I don't really believe that you can keep anything perfectly private and secure. I understood that risk, and though I'm angry at the thought that my hard work and original ideas have been taken just to be recycled and ruined, it's also not something I can really change. The only control I have is whether or not I want to keep indiscriminately sharing something that brings me joy to do and has brought me joy to experience. And I do.

[itzsyds]

girl I just had an idea for Hector fort x reader

how about reader is from London and has never lived in any other country but fell I love with Hector fort in a summer holiday with her family 3 years ago now they are still together reader is 18 Hector is 19 when they are the beach one night reader tells Hector she is pregnant. The young couple arse so nervous but so excited. How will readers family react when she tells them A: she is pregnant and B: she is moving from London to Barcelona to raise her baby with her true love Hector and leaving everything in London behind like her friends and family . Readers family being sceptical at a bit worried at first but they come around and are so happy for Hector and reader

Hector Fort x Reader

Oceans Between Us🌊

—

Can’t lie this one was fr a next level juicy one to try plan & write cause I did not want it to be too long or too short. Hope this was good enough for you anon🩷😭

—

—

FLUFF- A London girl living a simple, city-centered life meets Hector Fort during a dreamy summer vacation in Spain. What started as a holiday romance blossomed into a love so strong that even oceans couldn’t separate them. Now both adults, she faces the biggest decision of her life— and it's not just about being pregnant. It’s about choosing love over comfort, Barcelona over London, and a new life over everything she's ever known…

—

The salt air was cool against her skin as she walked barefoot along the beach. Tiny waves lapped at the sand, glittering under the soft moonlight.

Hector walked beside her, his hand warm in hers, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her palm— a small gesture that always made her feel safe.

Three years…

Three years since she first met him on this very beach, during a family holiday to Spain when she was only fifteen.

She could still remember that night: the way his laughter had floated across the water, the way he'd looked at her like she was the only girl in the world.

Now, she was eighteen, he was nineteen, and they were still here— still them.

She stopped, facing the ocean, nerves tangling in her stomach. She squeezed Hector’s hand tighter.

He noticed immediately. "What’s wrong, mi amor?" (My love) he asked, his voice low and concerned.

She turned to him, searching his familiar brown eyes, the ones she'd fallen for so long ago.

"I need to tell you something," she whispered.

Hector tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing her cheek. "You can tell me anything."

Her heart pounded against her ribs. She took a breath, feeling the weight of the moment.

"I’m pregnant."

The words hung between them, fragile and heavy.

For a second, Hector just stared at her, as if trying to process. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again— and then he laughed, a breathless, almost disbelieving sound.

"You’re serious?" he said, eyes wide with something between shock and joy.

She nodded, tears stinging her eyes. "I found out a few days ago. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared."

He caught her face between his hands and kissed her— so fiercely, so full of love it made her knees buckle.

"Are you happy?" she whispered against his lips.

"I’m the happiest man alive," he murmured. "Scared...yes. But so happy. We're going to be a family, cariño." (Honey)

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in the sounds of the sea and the magnitude of their future.

But reality crept in, as it always did.

They had so much to figure out.

First and foremost— her family…

—

Two days later, she sat at the dining table in her London home, nervously twisting her ring around her finger. Her mum, dad, and younger brother were chatting about nothing in particular, but she barely heard a word. She caught Hector's eye across the table. He gave her an encouraging nod.

She cleared her throat.

"Can I say something?"

Her mum smiled. "Of course, darling."

Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. "I'm... I'm pregnant."

The table went silent. Utterly, painfully silent.

Her dad was the first to speak. "Pregnant? Are you...sure?"

She nodded, heart hammering in her chest. "I’ve been to the doctor. I’m about three months along."

Her mum’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes glossy with unshed tears— but it wasn’t clear yet whether they were happy or sad.

"And there's more," she said, gathering her courage. "I’m moving to Barcelona. I want to raise the baby there. With Hector."

Her brother made a shocked sound, but quickly quieted when he caught the serious look on her face.

Her dad leaned back in his chair, frowning deeply. "Leaving everything? Your home, your friends, your family?"

"I love him," she said simply. "I always have. We’ve been making it work long distance for three years. This isn’t just a summer fling anymore. He’s my family now."

The silence stretched.

Both her parents exchanged a long, loaded look.

"I know it’s a lot," she said quietly. "And I know you’re worried. I’m scared too. But I’m sure about this. I’m sure about him."

Her mum reached across the table, grabbing her hand. "You’re so young," she whispered. "It’s not that we don't believe you love him. It’s just... this is a huge step."

"I know," she said. "But I’m ready. We're ready."

For a long moment, it felt like the world might crack in two. But then, slowly, her mum smiled— a wobbly, watery smile.

"If this is what you want, darling... then we’ll support you."

Her dad sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just promise us you’ll visit. A lot."

"I promise."

And just like that, the weight lifted.

Her family hugged her, holding her tightly, as if trying to memorize the feeling before she flew across the ocean.

They were sceptical, yes.

Worried, of course. But love— real, messy, unconditional love— had won. Hector would be her rock during this new chapter in her life.

—

A few months later, she stood outside a little house near the Barcelona coast, Hector's arms wrapped around her from behind. Her belly had rounded slightly, a visible sign of the tiny life they had created together.

The sun was setting over the water, casting everything in a golden glow.

“Are you ready?" Hector asked softly.

She turned in his arms and smiled up at him, her heart bursting at the seams.

"I was born ready."

And with that, they stepped into their new life together— not perfect, not easy, but theirs.

Forever.

—

Last one for today me thinks🙃

Thanks for the requests guys! Do keep them coming even if it’s for a player I don’t write for I may consider it like I did with Hector x

[cressidagrey]

I’m sorry that this is going to be long.

So I have been going back and forth on whether to post this anon (like I usually do) or with my user name. I made an agreement with myself at the start of 2025 to start coming off anon more when I message authors about my love of their work. So ummm Hello!

I first stumbled on your work on Wattpad with the “Stay Through It All” series, then on AO3 with the “Getaway Car”, then on Tumblr with “The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince”. As you can see I have been on a journey through the apps/sites finding your stories along the way. It has been a joy to see what you will create next.

In March something told me (whether that was a gut instinct or God trying to guild me, I have no clue) to go on tumblr and there at the top of my Home page was the 1st chapter of “White Horse”. At the time I didn’t know why checking your page became the first thing I did when I came on the site until Chapter 4 : June 2023. It was near the end of chapter that Belle went to her fathers grave. I won’t lie that after I finished the chapter I had to take a step back and process what I just read and just feel.

You see in December of 2024 my dads cancer diagnoses went from stage 3 to stage 4. We were told that we would have 6 months to a year with him. Instead I only got 2 weeks and he passed in his sleep mid January 2025. The last lucid conversation I had with him was about us clearing the air about decisions he had made for me growing up that hurt me emotionally as he had never explained why he did so. Some examples: 1. I had the opportunity to tour with a theater company for 2 years as child actor (I was 11/12 at the time) all over the USA and Canada. When told about my schooling being moved to online/homeschooling my dad had a fit and said that they would need to cast someone else. 2. During my senior year of High School I had no clue what I wanted to with my life. I was good at a lot of things but nothing I was really great at or just made sense. 3 of my cousins were in the same boat. Our grandparents decided that they would pay for the 4 of us to backpack after graduation for a year to 18 months and hopefully we would have some idea of what we wanted to do when we returned. My dad hated this idea and gave me an ultimatum that lead to me not going with them. Now those 2 things and others have stuck with me still and I’m now in my mid thirties. I just wanted to understand why.

Now as you can guess I never got those answers. It has been festering like an opened wound. Reading White Horse has been helping me grieve and heal that wound. I’ve been slowly realizing that while I’ll never forget the pain and what was done, I can slowly forgive. So thank you. From the bottom of heart, thank you! I don’t know if you’ll see this, let alone even read it but I had to thank you. I also wanted to say take your time with writing. Balancing this and Uni is amazing just please don’t burn yourself out! You have an amazing way with words and storytelling that if you ever decide to publish your own book I will happily purchase it. I hope you are doing well and staying hydrated. If you have gotten this far, well, thank you for reading and listening.

Thank you so, so much for trusting me with this. Truly — from the bottom of my heart — I’m honored that anything I wrote could be a small piece of your healing. I'm incredibly sorry for everything you’ve been through. Grief is so heavy, especially when it’s layered with complicated love, disappointment, and unanswered questions.

Please know that your message means the absolute world to me.

I’m so proud of you for allowing yourself the grace to grieve, to feel, and to slowly move toward forgiveness — not for anyone else, but for yourself. 💛

Sending you so much love and strength. Always.

[writeriguess]

I love everything you write, let me say that first, are you tired of writing for Katsuki? You get reqs for him so much! I feel like if I was a writer like you are I would be so burnt out from him specifically

I hope you don't feel obligated to write everything that's asked of you, I really want you to enjoy writing

First of all, thank you so much for this message — for the kindness, the compliments, and honestly, just for thinking about me and taking the time to ask this. It really does mean a lot. I don’t always get the chance to talk about this side of writing, so I appreciate the space you've given me to do that without judgment.

I feel like I’m going to lose half my follower base by admitting this, but... yes. Honestly, yes. I adore Katsuki, I truly do — he’s a character that’s very close to my heart and has been for a long time. But at the same time, I would be lying if I said it hasn’t gotten exhausting. Right now, I have 37 requests sitting in my WIP folder that I haven’t even started yet, and 26 of them are for Katsuki. That’s almost all of them. It’s a lot.

And to be completely honest, whenever I get a non-Katsuki request, I genuinely let out a breath of relief. Not because I hate him — I don’t, not at all — but because it feels like I’m getting a rare break. I know I caused this myself, and I don’t think it would be fair to turn down all the Katsuki requests just because I’m tired. People send them in because they love the way I write him, and that’s such an honor. I would never want anyone to feel bad for requesting him or to think I resent them for it. I really don’t.

But I do wish there were a little more variety sometimes. It’s hard to stay excited and inspired when your inbox feels like it's been set to an auto-loop. Some days it feels less like I’m writing and more like I’m just recycling the same fics over and over. Even when the prompts are totally different, even when the ideas themselves are genuinely cool and creative, it still feels like I’m walking the same path ten different times. And because of that, I haven’t been writing nearly as much as I used to. There are days when opening a WIP with his name attached already feels like a chore, and that’s a really sad feeling when it used to be something that filled me with so much happiness and creativity.

I also recognize that my own love for him has started to fade a little, and that’s maybe the hardest part to admit. I poured so much energy and heart into writing for him that now there’s just... less left. Less excitement, less newness, less joy. It’s not gone, not entirely, but it’s not what it used to be. And it makes me a little afraid that someday I’ll lose that spark for good.

But at the same time, writing — even when it feels repetitive — is something that's keeping me afloat right now. There are some really difficult, really heavy things happening in my real life that I can’t stop or fix, no matter how much I want to. Knowing that I have this little world I can still come back to, where I can create something that makes other people happy, is one of the few things keeping me from sinking. So even if writing for Katsuki sometimes feels tiring, it’s still better than not writing at all. It’s better than giving up this community that’s been so good to me, even when things feel a little lopsided or overwhelming.

I’m committing to it. Because you all — and this community — are worth committing to. And even when I get tired, it’s still something I’m grateful for at the end of the day.

I’m not blaming anyone for sending in Katsuki requests. Truly, please don’t feel bad if you have or were thinking of doing so. It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s just a reflection of how loved he is, and how much people trust me with him. That’s a really beautiful thing. I just want to be honest that I wish there was a little more love sent toward other characters too sometimes. I think it would help me bring better energy, better ideas, better writing to everyone if there was a little more balance.

Thank you again for your message. Seriously. It gave me the chance to be honest in a way I usually don’t allow myself to be. And it means the world to me that you care about how I’m feeling behind the scenes. I hope you’re doing well, too. ♥

[imtrashraccoon]

Hehehe (｀･∀･´)

Can we get a "don't imagine" for ut!papyrus, with lolita reader ＼(^_^)／ (is this allowed? I slept for 4 hours so i don't totally get the pinned post 😞)

Yes you can! You're all good! I hope you managed to get some more sleep though. (⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)

Don't imagine getting ready for the day and heading out to do some shopping. How you made sure to bring your parasol to help ward off the sun. How you took your time walking so you wouldn't overexert yourself.

Don't imagine how the air feels thick and how you struggle to breath properly. How you know you'll have to get your clothes dry-cleaned after this from how badly you're sweating. How your skin almost feels clammy. How you start to feel light-headed and slightly nauseous. How you nearly collapse onto a nearby bench to try to recover.

Don't imagine a tall skeleton in clothing so bright, you feel nearly blinded. How he seems a little nervous but puts on a big smile. How he compliments your outfit. How he marvels at how intricately detailed it is and how he asks if you made it yourself.

Don't imagine how his smile falls and how his eye sockets widen when he realizes that something's wrong. How quickly he puts together that you might be experiencing heat exhaustion. How his bonebrows furrow with concern and he glances around for help.

Don't imagine how his eyelights seem to flicker with newfound determination. How he asks if he can help and how relieved he looks when you nod. How he helps you inside a nearby store to get you out of the sun. How he buys you a bottle of water and stays by your side until you seem to recover a little.

Don't imagine how he tentatively asks if you wouldn't mind if he tries using some healing magic. How surprised he is when you agree. How he sits down next you and slips off his gloves. How he seems almost scared to touch you at first.

Don't imagine how his cheekbones seem to light up with an orange glow when you take his hand. How he chuckles awkwardly but seems secretly glad that you did so. Definitely don't imagine how he places his free hand against your forehead and how cool his bones feel. How they warm up slightly and how you start to feel a tingling sensation.

Don't imagine how much better you feel when he finally pulls back. How you still feel tired but how you feel much lighter than before. How he sheepishly looks away and murmurs something about being self-taught. How he blushes again when you thank him for his help.

Don't imagine him asking if you'll let him help you get home. How you get the sense that he's still very concerned about you. How he even offers to carry your shopping bags.

Don't imagine being blown away by his unabashed kindness. How everyone else ignored you except for him. How he seems to light up when you accept his help once more. How he can't seem to run out of questions to ask on the way back to your home. How you actually find yourself amused by this sweet skeleton.

First, Previous, & Next Request