#it's very easy to get too self-conscious about what you post and write when you aren't sure how others feel

[tvrningout-a]

i'm grabbing y'all by the face and telling y'all that the alternate version of jorogumo is gonna be chiyo's mom and it's gonna be angsty as heck bc chiyo never got to know her mom and her mom never got to know her and : ))))) it's a very weird and uncomfy situation when they meet before it's actually kinda healing. but first i gotta brainstorm and develop her momma a lil more and find a fc... if anyone has suggestions, i'll take 'em uvu

[kiefbowl]

On radblr, in my early twenties, now what is likely 10 years ago (which, it's hard to remember when I started actually feminist positing on tumblr in earnest), I used to write about rape a lot more. I think my younger self felt invigorated not so much about the conversation of rape (of course, it's horrific), but by being angry and political about it. Being able to articulate complex, feminist ideas about rape, and have likeminded women engage. It felt intellectual and important, while a form of my own conscious raising. As I've aged, I find it harder. I can only say so many things, over and over again. It was never not hard, or depressing, or angering, but where the bad feelings once felt righteous and worth experiencing for the sake of speaking towards truth, now it can feel ineffective and exploitative.

I'm not saying one way is right, the other is wrong. I think (speaking broadly of course) that this is a part of aging. I think there is some truth about the patterns we see between young people and their thoughts and abilities, and then aging out of them. I think, speaking politically, younger and older activists need each other because two perspectives work in congress: the young passion that can be short sighted and ideological, and the elder pragmatism that can fall into complicity. These two perspectives together can be stronger than when apart. It's always more complicated than that, and each person is different, but I do think the trend of "I'm full of energy and angry and shocked and won't faulter" giving way to "I'm going to be measured and find priorities and perhaps become more lenient" is a general trend that is true. You get older and you realize both how short time is and how much longer you get to live it, and constant anger is not only exhausting, but it can be counterproductive. What's more, is that not only do your responsibilities increase, but some of those responsibilities also rub up against the very "machine" you used to rail against. You can achieve a lot with money, and to gain money you have to work. You gain money, you can start increasing your circle of influence, but then that increases the people you need to take care of. You need to take care of people, then you need to buy things. Suddenly, what seemed so easy being young and living off a shoestring budget 10 years ago seems irrational and dangerous today. I need to feed my dog, I need to help my sister, I can't expect my parents to live forever, I want to retire one day, I can bet on declining health...on and on. I'm speaking about myself in many ways, but I'm also trying to gesture to the larger trend generally. Extrapolate as it suits you, I think more of you than you realize will find yourself re-evaluating what actually isn't reconcilable as you get older. It's both hard to swallow and yet...like a toad in boiling water, you're almost not surprised looking back and realizing how much has changed and how right so many adults were when you were younger.

And so to this point, my intellectual posts about rape decreased. Never completely out of the fight, but being more specific about my time, my energy. Opting out of discussions that were too triggering, being more careful about my word choices. Understanding the harm that can come from being combative towards strangers on a public platform. Realizing that some periods of my life could be dedicated to enriching my life and creating enjoyment, and that meant certain things could be put on the backburner. Just because I wasn't writing, doesn't mean I wasn't thinking. I didn't need external validation (especially from strangers on tumblr) that my time was being well spent when it came to observing the news and thinking about it. I know what goes on in my head, putting it into a public post didn't make it more true. I'm not so sure I had the same belief at 22/23/24, etc. I think whether I would have articulated it that way, I think I felt like what went on in my head was meaningless unless it was being crafted into a message that had some sort of impact, with tumblr being my main platform to do that. I don't think that way now. I think my thoughts have value even if I keep them to myself, which means when I really have something I think is worth sharing on tumblr, I can craft it more precisely if and when I find the time. Or at least that's my goal as a 30-something, and I don't think that was as explicit of a goal as a 20-something who just wanted to get every thought down because it felt like my brain was being turned on for the first time.

But something that is coming into focus with the accusations of Gaiman that I haven't really reckoned with, or at least not as much as I have the past 24 hours & past 6 months, is that while I aged privately and passively by blog followed suit, is that the landscape of tumblr has evolved around me. I think there's a trick my brain has played on me: that at the end of the day, something of what I engaged with on radblr 10 years ago still exists. And, yes, to an extent, there are some women here I've followed for the entire time (but they have also aged...). But my followers have increased and decreased and increased and decreased with every stupid post that goes viral, and as I've aged and remained on tumblr, many many more women have aged and bowed out. It's becoming increasingly clear that I have a lot of young women following me who are not my age, and did not see those posts, mine and others. The "classics" that live large in my mind but weren't viral hits, just radblr discourses of the week. Some of these young women have a wildly different online experience than I did, and I think I knew but didn't know know the difference 10 years makes when growing up on the internet. I never had twitter, some of you are "twitter expats." I remember when youtube was people uploading 20 second home videos, some of you only know youtube as the long form video essay platform. I remember events like they were yesterday that are already erased in the public consciousness. Some of you were coming into your own during the "Me Too" movement and gave it so much credence, where I was not surprised nor expected much from it. Now I can see how we retroactively talk about it like it was such a bombshell, when most women I knew at the time, even "normie" women were, like, "yeah duh." I also haven't really reckoned with the fact that it's been long enough era of the "new algorithm" that there are (although young) full-grown adults who don't remember the internet before it.

The conversations I took for granted on tumblr are changing. To be sure, there are still a lot of women on tumblr who are likeminded to myself, making amazing posts that are good, true, & eye-opening. I'm not panicking that the "landscape" has changed so much that I can't recognize anything anyone says anymore, and that ""real"" feminism has dried up and disappeared when I stopped looking. But I want to say some things about rape that I believe are ideas that were shared between a collection of women that I deeply associated with on here a long time ago that maybe isn't explicitly talked about in these terms as frequently as I used to experience. I want to say some things that I used to say all the time that I think I assumed that "everyone knows" I say "these things" and "think these ways" - when maybe I haven't been so explicit in so long that people don't know, or haven't seen me speak these things before.

And so, some thoughts on rape:

Rape as a word is known to be an evil act, and therefore people (men and women) will speak of it as if they are against it. However, rape as it functions in our life is seen as a necessity. This is why people can speak out of two sides of their mouth about it. Rape is a concept of evil, but it is not an evil action. Why? Because women are meant to be raped. This is what's understood: women are inherently rape-able. Women are not sexual beings, they are sexual objects. They are incubators, and they create lust in men, which is what unravels the virture of men.

When a man rapes a women, the ultimate evil is that the man's virtue was corrupted, not the woman's. These ideas aren't explicitly articulated by anyone, but they are patterns at the heart of rape myths. It is a "shame" that a man "lost his will" because he happened across an "object" that "tricked him" into being "bestial", something that is ultimately excusable because man is beast. Is woman beast? No, she is not man.

If a man can resist, he is the paradigm of virtue; if he can't it's because she was too rape-able to remain virtuous. This is how men know they are rapists but don't agree they are rapists. They know they do the necessary action of raping, they disagree it's the same as the agreed upon concept of Rape. Rape that is evil is some monstrous other using these women as they are reserved for men.

When it suits men of a community, they can use this idea against other men they want to other. When it doesn't suit men, no man can be monstrous because all men are brothers, and so rape ceases to exist. You can't rape my daughter, unless you marry her, then do as you please. You can't rape madonnas, unless she is a whore, then do as you please. You can't rape my women, but if they're your women, do as you please. These ideas are not concrete convictions, they will morph to suit the man at the center of the rape accusation. A rapist who date-rapes might very well feel righteous anger when it happens to his sister. He can and will find a way to excuse whatever he did as part of some normal paradigm, a way he must act or should act, or a thing that is excusable for him. The inconsistency of this logic does not matter, because it does not suit him, and therefore does not suit male supremacy.

I say this all because, even though I'm appalled by the reaction of Gaiman's fans online, who are both men and women, and who can only fucking think of how they consume media (truly unbelievable and juvenile), I am simply not surprised. In so many ways, Gaiman's victims were rape-able, and that's why in so many ways his fans can readjust the variables of the situation and come up with some sort of conclusion of how it is rape, but it isn't Rape. Maybe she liked it sometimes, maybe she is misremembering. Maybe he was just confused on the terms of consent.

But what's more important to them is that they give credence to the idea that of course Rape is Evil, because they are good people who must think that way. What they're trying to convince themselves, and what can seem like they are speaking another language, is that this isn't Rape, this is rape. And so it's not that "she is misremembering" means she wasn't raped, but that she was raped in such a way that is the natural order of things. Man, who is a virtuous human and a beast, raped a sexual object who can only expect to exist so long in the world before tempting a man. This seems so obvious to most people. Feminists seem so intense and crazed, because they are centering something that is unnatural to most: a woman's experience as a human, not an object.

It comes natural to these fens to ask: "How can I enjoy my tv show knowing so many people think my hero is a capital R Rapist, when that's philosophical idea on evil and not a material reality, when I don't want people to think I don't take the capital R Rape idea as a serious evil." They are having two conversations in tandem. One is the idea that of course it's possible for Rape to exist, it's possible for some monstrous other to exist, but this man is not a monstrous other, because he is just a man. And men rape, that's just how it goes, because women are rape-able.

I'm condensing many ideas I have about rape into something simplified, for the sake of a tumblr post. And I got there in a circulus way, but I want to encourage the "old guard" who is still here, or women that agree with me above, that although they don't need to, if they have the time to speak more about rape as an intentional weapon against women, to do so. I think there are many ways the political conversation about rape for young women is first happening online, and I think the popular discourse is going sideways. A blind leading the blind moment. This is not a value judgement, but I'm gobsmacked at some things that are said as if they are "given" feminist talking points, that fall outside my understanding of rape as a feminist. Things like equalizing the complicity of Palmer with Gaiman's actions, rationalizing certain sexual proclivities as rooted in some innate sexuality, creating a hierarchy of which actions were worse for which victims, and so on. In many ways, also not surprising, par for the course for how feminism is generally spoken about. What is surprising to me is the confidence of speaking this way, and being convinced of their transgressive ideas. I think feminist online discourse must be so dire that the needle moving to some mid-point in a woman might convince her she's quite enlightened, when there's so much more she could learn. I think this idea that "libfems" are actually women who are clearly anti-feminist has convinced a lot of women that they are "good feminists" by engaging with ideas that are at odds at all with blatant conservatism, that it might be mystifying that they are quite centrist in comparison from many feminist talking points 10 to 20 years ago, at least as it appears to me. I'm speaking broadly, I know, but I had to get some thoughts down. Some angry part of me still exists and I do still feel the need to discuss rape, if only to show some young woman that there really is a deeply radical way you can think of rape that perhaps you hadn't thought of before.

As always, I'm open to critiques about anything in this post.

[chrollogy]

SIGNED: LOVESICK FOOL #01

iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

next | masterlist

synopsis: You decide to try out the university confessions page as an anonymous submitter to write a vague paragraph about your feelings for Iwaizumi—oddly enough, students following the page seems to be hooked in your confession.

chapter content warning: college au, fluff, oikawa appearance :3, reader is helplessly in love with mr iwaizumi hajime, not beta read.

word count: 2.3k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. sorry this came a bit late >< i fell asleep LMAOOOOOO

Falling in love has always been a weird concept. One day you wake up, and feel completely different towards a certain someone who you swear you only love platonically; your heart starts to race faster whenever you’re in their presence, mind formulating a million different thoughts on how to act normally until it loses its meaning, suddenly becoming overly self conscious of one’s appearance, and always wanting to look your very best whenever they’re around—the whole package.

Unfortunately, you were all too familiar with this.

As though in a romance movie, the whole world slowed down as your eyes landed on the person before you, anything, and everything faded into nothing—a mere whitenoise behind the rapid pounding of your heart.

Iwaizumi��s hair gleamed beneath the sun’s afternoon rays, long lashes ghosted over the apple of his cheeks, rosy lips slightly puckered in concentration. You remembered it like yesterday—the strong aroma of roasted coffee beans, the light chatter of other customers in the café, the warm blanket of sunshine, the heart-stopping eye contact.

Iwaizumi called your name a total of three times until you finally broke free from your trance; everything flooded back the moment your name slipped past his parted lips for the third time—as though suddenly reeled from a freeze frame.

You remembered blinking at him, letting a heartbeat or two pass before asking him what he needed, though, Iwaizumi’s words entered one ear, and left the other; you were more focused on the way his plush lips moved with every word spoken, mind wondering what it’d feel like against your own.

That night, you tossed, and turned beneath your ivory blanket; mind a complete mess, and heart an even bigger mess. You just didn’t get why you had to catch feelings for Iwaizumi out of all people.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, never but everything between the two of you has been strictly platonic ever since—hell, you both even had a fair share of past relationships; you felt indifferent when Iwaizumi introduced his first girlfriend to you but now, just the thought introducing another woman made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

Realising that bottling up these feelings was a foolish thing to do, you scoured your mind for anything, and everything just to find some kind of release from all these unsaid thoughts. You were close to giving up, and retire for the night until a random thought popped into your mind,

Seijoh University Anonymous Confessions.

The unofficial page was undoubtedly popular amongst the students of the university, it served as a freedom wall where one was given the ability to express anything, and everything to fellow students behind anonymity; ranging from harmless rants about the meal prices all the way to heartfelt messages, you name it.

Submitting a confession was easy, all one had to do was fill up an anonymous form linked on the page, and wait ‘til moderators post it for everyone else to see.

You’ve always just been an avid reader of the confessions, a mere pastime in between lectures, and study breaks. It was interesting to see other students’ perspective, and thoughts in the campus you all shared, serving you a reminder that despite being in the same environment, everyone experienced things very differently.

Though, the only constant factor in everyone’s university lives was the confession page, even yours.

Despite the page ensuring full anonymity, it was still nerve-wracking to turn your feelings into words, your thumbs shook as you typed each letter into the anonymous form. You knew Iwaizumi would eventually see this confession despite only reading from the page from time to time, you just hoped it was vague enough for him to not notice—he was smart, and usually pieced clues together like it was nothing.

Surely out of all these students submitting confessions to this page everyday, Iwaizumi wouldn’t know, right?

The next few days consisted of refreshing said page, and waiting for your confession to pop up. “You’ve picked up your phone at least ten times in the past two minutes, what’s so interesting?” Oikawa’s dulcet voice pulled you into reality, your torso unceremoniously jerked away to shield your phone as he attempted to take a peek at the device in your hand.

The former narrowed his eyes at you but before he could throw a sly remark your way, Iwaizumi let out an annoyed sigh which gained yours, and Oikawa’s attention.

“Oikawa, if you’re bored, go bother someone outside the study room.”

The brunette playfully rolled his eyes before standing up to stretch, a small yawn slipping past his rosy lips. “Alright, I’m going to get some snacks. Anyone want any?” He grabbed his phone off the table before shifting his gaze between you, and Iwaizumi who only shook his head in silence, completely preoccupied with an assignment.

“Can I come?” “No, go scroll on your phone.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out, not letting you protest before leaving the study room. The sound of the door clicking echoed throughout the walls of the study room, a deafening silence engulfed you, and Iwaizumi; for you, the silence was awkward, for him, it was completely normal.

If your heart were to pound any louder against your chest, you were sure he would’ve heard.

You randomly flipped through the pages of your textbook, trying to make yourself look busy. God, you couldn’t get more awkward than this. A flurry of overly self-conscious thoughts flooded your mind—would he think I’m weird for flipping too many pages? Fuck, am I reading this paragaph too fast? Is my posture okay? Oh god, I haven’t looked at a mirror all day, do I look fine? Is my hair messy?

Small, sharp prickles kissed down your body as heat engulfed you out of nowhere, cheeks warmed, and palms sweaty. You let out a sigh, nails digging into the skin of your nape, attempting to relieve the annoying itch.

“You okay? You seem very stressed lately.” Iwaizumi pushed his laptop screen halfway down to get a better view of you, he was slouched far into his seat, arms propped on either side of his laptop. His gaze met your own, deep emerald eyes boring into your very core. With a racing heart, you turned your mind upside down for an answer,

“Yeah . . I’m fine. Just tired is all.” Mentally cursing yourself, your nails harshly dug into the hearts of your palm—your voice came out small, and airy, not really convincing but whatever. If Iwaizumi caught your little white lie, he didn’t press on, instead returning a subtle dip of his chin before shifting his gaze back onto the laptop before him.

Sounds of soft keyboard tapping, and the low hum of the wall clock accompanied the deafening silence, you sat there twiddling your thumbs like a dumbass as if you weren’t supposed to be studying.

Iwaizumi wasn’t even doing anything yet here you were, warm faced, and as stiff as a board, if only he knew the effect he had on you. It was beyond embarrassing, really, how he was able to have this effect on you with little to no effort but then again, this was the Iwaizumi Hajime, of course it made sense.

For the first time in forever, you silently wished Oikawa came back as soon as possible—each second passed without a word spoken between you, and Iwaizumi, and you could really use the brunette right now to diffuse the growing awkwardness on your side.

As if the heavens answered your prayer, Oikawa came striding past the door, a bunch of snacks tucked neatly beneath his arm, and torso; you’ve never felt happier seeing him but you weren’t about to let anyone know. The brunette held his phone with his other hand, brown eyes concentrated on the device,

“Have you guys read the new confession? The page just posted it a couple of minutes ago.” He set the snacks on the table, and slid one your way before sitting down.

That’s right, just like you, Oikawa was also an avid reader of the university confessions page as though it was the morning newspaper. You couldn’t really blame him, the whole concept of it was interesting, plus, some confessions were rather strange but fascinating, nonetheless.

Iwaizumi wordlessly shook his head, not sparing a glance at his friend, you, on the other hand, felt a sudden wave of panic wash over your body. Did they finally post your confession? You squirmed in your seat, trying to act nonchalant, and completely normal about the situation at hand, “Mmm, no, not yet. Is it that interesting?”

Oikawa let out a low hum, an amused smile plastered on his face, with the way his gaze shifted back, and forth across the screen of his phone, he seemed to be reading the newest confession. The expression on Oikawa’s face did nothing to relax your nerves, he looked like he was enjoying every bit of the post—surely, you didn’t put much detail into it for anyone to piece it together or did you?

You expected the brunette to answer a simple yes or no along with a little explanation like he always did whenever he brought up the confessions page but apparently, he decided he’d read it out loud without you or Iwaizumi even asking.

Oikawa cleared his throat, “Here, I’ll read it out loud,” 

“Oh god. Never in a million years did I think this would happen to me but lately I’ve noticed that every time I see him, my heart starts racing. I can’t act normally around him anymore and he just looks so handsome whenever I see him. It’s hopeless, I know but some part of me wishes that my feelings are reciprocated. I don’t blame myself for falling in love because he’s such an amazing guy. He’s my everything, he knows that but he doesn’t know I don’t mean platonically. Sigh.”

As your friend read deeper into the paragraph, you slouched further into your seat, cheeks burning like the sun, and embarrassment engulfing your whole body. That was your confession. Fuck, you just wanted the floor to swallow you whole right then, and there.

Your eyes darted between Oikawa, and Iwaizumi, scanning their expressions—the former obviously had a smug smile on his face while the latter looked indifferent; the same old deadpan expression he’d worn since the start of your study session.

As if to make things worse for you, the brunette spoke up again, “It’s gaining quite the attention only because it's such a juicy confession, and students are trying to find out who’s in love with their best friend.” Oikawa chuckled, turning off his phone, and resting his palms behind his head.

What the fuck. How was your confession gaining more attention than the others? Last time you checked, yours was just a typical love confession, something all students have seen hundreds of times on the page, nothing special.

“W-what? Why? Why is it gaining attention?” Your tone came out more panicked than intended. Upon realising this, you awkwardly cleared your throat, and took a sip from your water bottle to help your nerves calm a tad bit before speaking up once again, “What’s so interesting about it, anyway?”

Oikawa shrugged, “Just a typical love confession but I’m not going to lie, it’s always interesting whenever someone has feelings for their best friend.”

Grabbing the snack Oikawa gave you earlier, you hastily opened the bag, and popped a chip in your mouth. Yeah, maybe eating something will calm your nerves.

This time, it was Iwaizumi’s turn to speak up, “Mhm. I’m guessing everyone’s just curious about it, maybe many can relate. It’s not easy being in love with your best friend.” He finally looked up from his laptop, dark emerald eyes shifting from Oikawa to you.

His gaze lingered a little too long for your liking which caused your brain to short circuit. Before you knew it, all you could do was listen to the sound of your yearning heart, fingers curling around the chip packet as your grip tightened.

You sucked in a breath, and averted your gaze from Iwaizumi, staring at the contents of your chip packet, “True . . I feel sorry for OP, especially since it's a long term friendship.” At least your voice didn’t come out shaky this time. Iwaizumi only nodded, he seemed to be in deep thought, whatever the reason was, you absolutely didn’t want to know.

Back in your dorm, you couldn’t help but check the comments under your confession, and as Oikawa stated earlier, majority of it were students tagging their friends on the post, and trying to find out who’s in love with their best friend. Some also gave sound advice about the situation which you appreciated, though, you didn’t know if you were really ready for a face to face confession with Iwaizumi.

Weirdly enough, the unexpected attention gave you a bit of confidence now that you were looking at it from another perspective. Earlier, it felt like a complete nightmare with how much other students were invested in your sad lovelife but now that you’ve calmed down, it was reassuring to see others give blind support, and words of encouragement.

Safe to say, there was still a hint of community between students despite everyone fighting their way through the semesters.

Plus, everyone seemed to await your next confession post, so who were you to deny them that? After all, you couldn’t really talk about it with anyone else, why not share it with the student population behind anonymity?

As expected, not only did your confession gain more traction within the next few days, but friends from classes you’re taking have also been talking about it. Though you couldn’t really comprehend what was so special about your submission, your feelings felt nothing but valid. Suddenly, it didn’t really feel like much of a crime being in love with your best friend—running away from your feelings was never an option but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t once cross your mind.

A million thoughts from students floated throughout the campus regarding the confession; ‘I wonder what their best friend is like?—he must be a really amazing guy.’ ‘I’m kind of curious as to what the person behind the confession is going to do next.’ ‘Heh, what if this confession is actually meant for me?’ ‘When will it be my turn?’

You’ve heard it all.

Despite everyone’s attention on the post, you just really wished that in the back of Iwaizumi’s mind, there was a pressing thought telling him the confession might be for him.

—

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© chrollogy 2024 | don't plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[smokeypeaches-and-honeyplums]

First i just wanna say your headcanons are seriously top notch, excellent work 👌. Ok now onto the actual request, could you do the NSFW alphaber for Macaque like you did for Redson? Don't forget to have a lovely day. 💙

What a way for me to return lmao. Thank you for the compliment, I tend to get self conscious about my writing.

You've heard it all before. Sorry for being inactive, I'm coming back, especially with the new specials coming out. I have more time on my hands. Gonna go through the box until I can start accepting again.

Edit post-s5: all is hell and I just need to cope atp what the FUCK was that season/pos

Reader is Gender-Neutral by default!

// NSFW!! MINORS DNI //

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I like to imagine Macaque is very cuddly for aftercare. Tapping into his primal side, he's more possessive and protective. So, he holds onto you, petting you as he whispers in your ear, helping you down from subspace if he has to (or domspace if you topped).

Given he has portals, shadow travel and clones, he can get all your needs met without leaving you. So, you get cuddles AND resources provided. The perfect aftercare.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Macaque honestly doesn't like much about himself. He can talk the talk, looking as if he has a healthy or overbearing ego, but get him alone for long enough? He'll be second guessing how he even blinks

Exaggerating, of course

Point is, there's not much. A lot of it has been marred as well, so it makes it worse. Though, he's come to love his face. With or without the glamour, you've gotten this far with him and loved him through his roughest time. And it's one of the things you seemed to fall for

Besides, he's gotta admit, he does look a bit on the good side.

On you though, if you're Masc leaning, he loves your arms. Shows your strength and capabilities, and their nice to look at. It feels nice to be vulnerable in them

If you're Fem leaning, he'll admit, he's a bit of an ass guy. Ass and thighs, specifically. Their nice to lay on. And they also feel so nice between his fingers, against his hips...

Ahem.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Leaning into that more primal side, Macaque likes to mark you now and then. He isn't very fond of making messes, borderline germaphobe if you asked me, but there's a part of him that likes to make a mess out of you specifically, in such a way no one else could, in such an intimate setting

It gives him a sense of control and possession of something intimate he's honestly been lacking for... however long its been honestly

However, if you make big messes/are a squirter, he's eating that shit up, figuratively and literally

It's like ambrosia on his tongue

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Believe it or not? Macaque doesn't really have a dirty secret. None he would consider one, anyways.

But, a secret at ALL would be how Macaque really wants to be cherished. He DOES want to give up control to a degree, he's just scared of getting hurt again. You can only do so much to heal his soul, so when he DOES bottom, CHERISH it. He doesn't do it easy

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Can I say no? Not really?

Okay, well, not completely, but he's a quick learner

Macaque has been dead for however long it's been. And in that time, he definitely kept to himself A LOT. Hard to make connections when you're supposed to be, ya know, DEAD. So he didn't pick up much. But he did pick up SOMETHING

But, he's a quick learner. So don't worry too much. He does ask that you tell him if he's doing something wrong though, he doesn't wanna hurt you

That's the last thing he wants to do

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Honestly, in contrast to Redson, Macaque hates any position where you can see his face in turn. Sure, he loves to see yours, but contrary to popular belief, he HATES how he looks.

He knows how to fake it til he makes it, so that confidence is very exaggerated

But hey, at least he still gets to have a good show as he has his way with you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He'll pop a joke now and again, don't get me wrong. Macaque isn't AS much of a hardass about it in comparison to how Redson would be about the moment. Though he doesn't want it completely ruined

He won't hesitate to make you laugh though. Especially if it helps ease tension

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's a monkey. Hair goes crazy

Macaque never thought to really groom down there. I mean, why would he? He never expected to get to this point with anyone again.

So no, he's not really "well groomed," so I hope you don't mind fur in your mouth if you go to town on him in either regard on either side

He does develop a habit to get better groomed though.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Macaque is very intimate. He cherishes this, cherishes YOU. You mean so, so much. You've gotten this far with him, so he treasures you and whenever you guys get down and dirty, he does it with the intention of love making.

No primal urges

No biting (unless you want to, that is)

Just pure and utter devotion.

Maybe it's because it's all he's known, but it's how he shows his love to you. Praise and devotion.

uh- where were we again?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Macaque only really starts to masturbate proper when he gets in a relationship with you and start to get intimate (or just, getting intimate in general if you're just fwb)

Don't get me wrong! It's not like he HASN'T touched himself before. He's a demon at the end of the day, urges happen

It just increased in frequency when he got tangled up with you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Honestly? BDSM. Especially Bondage. Bondage specifically on you, though. For... obvious and not so obvious reasons

Roleplay! He's an actor, he's dramatic, he's a theater kid. He's gotta put it somewhere, right?

He's very partial to oral and might even have an Asphyxiation kink, in regard to both of you. Especially you though. And, in moderation so neither of you get hurt

Likes to use his clones on you now and again. It's fun to see

Would you believe me if I said he has a slight Exhibition kink? Listen to my vision-

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As far away from FFM as possible /hj

Macaque prefers it to be somewhere he can have you to himself. In the future, or some point in time, he could entertain the idea of sharing. Maybe. But until then, no one gets to see the faces you make.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Macaque is a simple man/demon. Anything on average to get ANYONE going would get him going

Show a bit of skin in the right places, curve a certain way, bend over in front of him

He's a simple man/demon. He's allowed to give in to his vices when he's tempted by the likes of you

If you're Masc leaning, he'll start to get going just from seeing your arms and muscles flex, even if you're doing something simple. He folds easy

If you're Fem leaning, anything that shows off your ass and/or thighs has him weak in the knees and absolutely unable to keep his hands to himself. He folds easy²

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Macaque absolutely REFUSES to be bound. He'll entertain the idea of holding himself back, but he REFUSES to have his legs and arms bound. For, again, obvious and not-so obvious reasons

Macaque REFUSES to hurt you in any way beyond the asphyxiation. He regards you in such a high light, that he refuses to purposefully hurt you. It'd destroy him, no matter how much you would tell him its okay, no matter the context. So no knifeplay, bloodplay, or anything of that sort.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Macaque's asphyxiation kink purely stems from oral, I am gonna be honest

He'dchokeonthestrap

He prefers to give than to receive, but if offered, he'll DEFINITELY take the chance. You didn't hear that from me though

He also likes the praise he gets from it too, but again, didn't hear that from me

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

If you couldn't tell from how much I say it, Macaque revels in you as a whole, so he likes to take it slow.

He tends to take things slow, no matter what it is, so you better best believe that he is taking his time with you. He'll squeeze in some teasing too to make you feel good

He wants to savour you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Just because Macaque wants to savour you, doesn't mean he can't also have appetizers now and again

He'll have a quickie now and again, but don't be surprised if he asks for more. But it's also not impossible for it to be enough for him, so if he needs to get off, he'll settle

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If you can't tell, the answer is No. For most things

Macaque is still willing to experiment, don't get me wrong, but he has very set boundaries for what area he'll be willing to experiment with and what he won't.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Look at him. Look at him and tell me you don't think he wouldn't be able to LAST.

Macaque's capable of a lot of things in and out of combat, so he definitely has the Stamina to last. Honestly, I have a general headcanon that demons, especially more powerful ones, have tons of stamina.

Have fun walking if you teased him :D

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys are a possibility. Macaque doesn't own em, so you'd have to bring them into the fray first.

Tease him though, and watch him melt in your hands when you get him to bottom. He makes the sweetest sounds

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Macaque's only unfair if you're unfair. And he'll always return the favor tenfold, no matter how badly you teased him. It's only fair, right? And besides, it's not like he's the only one that makes such sweet sounds

But trust, if Macaque starts teasing, you're in for a LONG night

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Macaque has sensitive hearing, if you couldn't tell, but that makes it all the better to him

He loves to growl in your ear if he tops, hear his pants and moans as he makes both of you feel good, hitting that spot you told him felt so good that one time, feeling you cling to him

And when he bottoms? He goes the full fucking MILE

Macaque is LOUD when he bottoms. If he's being this vulnerable, he might as well go all out. So he WHINES, he CRIES and by the great sage, does he MOAN.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Macaque's a dom-leaning switch, if you couldn't tell by now from what I've been implying, only bottoming once he's comfortable enough to and with his initiation the first go around

Also, whenever he teases, I like to imagine he likes to use his shadow abilities for various ideas (with your approval, of course). This includes Bondage, his clones, transformation. I mean, shit, sky's the limit

I also like to think he's not very good with the usual things at first. Things like dirty talk, foreplay, stuff like that. He will ask for guidance. He doesn't wanna fuck it up with you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I can FINALLY talk about it

Macaque's not some "well-endowed" sex master, so he's not gonna be packing some star-seeing dick either. Well, he could, when he knows how to use it

The guy's above average, at 7.1 inches and 5 in. in width lacking in curvature. He's never thought anything of it, since he never needed to use it often

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Demons have a naturally high libido, and Macaque is no different.

Same as I said with Redson, Macaque isn't some raging, horny demon just because of the type of demon he is. He can be primal, but he has control over it

Entertain it though...

Have mercy on your legs

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once Macaque finishes for the night (or, however long,) he can be seen almost passing out. He'll make sure you're fine, hence why he kinda leans on his clones to care for you while he cuddles into you, but he kinda crashes out once he's officially spent. A bad habit of his

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader

Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍

From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

afab!Version

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

[nine-frogs-in-a-trenchcoat]

what i would assume about you based on your favourite osemanverse book

i was born for this

you're a fandom person to your core. you were exposed to fandom at a young age and it has fundamentally changed something about you. you're only now starting to untangle that. maybe you're still in fandom, maybe you're not, but it will always be a part of you. either way you have a tendency to obsess over things. you probably have hyperfixations and/or special interests. you will talk about the things you love all day any day to anyone who will listen. you're definitely mentally ill and probably not dealing with it well. you have some unhealthy coping mechanisms you're still working on and that's ok. you have a lot to say on the topic of parasocial relationships. i have a feeling you might be bisexual. you love lister bird a little too much. you wish the ark was real and you have a playlist of how you imagine their music would sound like. you think about the iwbft sequel at least three times a day

loveless

you don't need to tell me you're on the aromantic and/or asexual spectrum, i know. you either already knew that coming into it but it still made you cry because you had never seen these experiences described on page, or you had no idea and this book made you cry bc it was a little too relatable and it gave you a full-on identity crisis. either way, it made you realise something about yourself and validated experiences you never see talked about in media and therefore it will always be important to you. you probably relate to georgia on several levels. your friends are so important to you and you often worry if you'll ever be as important to them as they are to you. you want nothing more than for someone to tell you how much they value you and always want to be there for you. you've definitely read fanfiction before and have an ao3 account but are probably too self-conscious to write and post anything of your own

radio silence

you were always the quiet "pleasure to have in class" kid but really you were just anxious. you always had good grades in school. you're naturally good at academics but it also wasn't easy, you had to work for it. that all went down the drain at some point in your teenage years tho and now you're full of academic burnout that you don't know how to get over. you know you don't have to be perfect to have value as a person but you don't actually know it. you're either autistic or have adhd and struggle with executive functioning. if you have more than two things to do in a day, you will cry. you're not good at talking about your feelings so you write it all down where no one can see. you have a creative outlet but you always saw it as something that's just for you. you've always felt a little different and have trouble being your full self around people you don't know well. it's not exactly that you put on a front of being someone else but that you only show people a very watered down version of who you really are. you've either called someone your platonic soulmate before or you've wanted to. you wish you had someone like aled/frances in your life. you probably listen to fiction podcasts and you wish universe city was real

heartstopper

you're very queer and a hopeless romantic. you're a firm believer that there's nothing wrong with seeing life through rose-coloured glasses sometimes. you know how important hope is and you will never give that up. you've been through some shit and you struggle with your mental health but you're determined to heal and find happiness. you felt lonely because of your queerness when you were younger but are now starting to accept yourself and value the community you have found so much. you somehow got yourself a group of friends that belongs in a poster for lgbtq+ representation and you're not sure when that happened but you're so grateful for them. you either own a pride flag or you want one. you yearn to have what nick and charlie have. you love heartstopper because reading it makes you smile and giggle and kick your feet but sometimes you get a bittersweet feeling of longing from it too. you've started wearing converse and/or vans more after becoming a heartstopper fan

solitaire

you love tori spring and michael holden so so much and you will make it everyone's problem. you have one of them as your pfp and immediately hit follow on anyone else with a tori/michael pfp. you have depression and you've struggled a lot with your mental health and still do. this book makes you feel understood when you feel sad and lonely and it gives you comfort so you reread it often. you either feel numb or have anger issues or both. you care about everything much more than you let on, but especially people. you don't easily let people in but the ones that you do you care so deeply about them. you feel like you're always at the outskirts of every group and that no one really gets you, except for one person or two. you probably struggle with social cues. you're autistic and either undiagnosed or late diagnosed. you're likely on the asexual spectrum. you probably listen to sad girl music like mitski or phoebe bridgers or radiohead. you post vent posts to your blog under the tag "it's funny because it's true"

please let me know in the tags how much i got right (or wrong) if you've gotten this far!! and please don't take it too seriously either way, it's just for fun :]

[ghost-orion]

Hi, sorry to bother you. I’ve read your post talking about Viktor being Czech and how you’re loving people portraying his/your culture in fanfiction.

As a fellow European who has seen my own culture being stereotyped countless times, I’m very self-conscious at the thought of approaching the topic of Viktor’s culture, especially in modern AUs, because I’m afraid I’m going to sound ignorant or offensive.

I know it’s not an easy question and it’s probably kinda weird, but are there any big no-nos people should be aware of when writing a Czech character or any general tips you’d like to share? I know almost nothing of Czech Republic and I fear googling will only help me up to a point. Of course feel free to say no if it’s too much to ask.

Thanks!

Hi, thanks for the question! It's a very broad topic, so without any specifics, I don't know how helpful I can be, really. Googling will take you a long way, honestly, but finding a Czech (or even Slovak maybe? Or other Slavs might be helpful as well, depending on the level of detail you want to go into, I honestly don't know) beta reader would be the most helpful.

When writing Viktor, I would 100% focus on the characterization of himself as he is in the show, not getting bogged down by cultural details. It's much more important to focus on his feelings and tastes than what his heritage might influence. (For example, when writing about food preferences, you can look up what foods he might've eaten as a child in Czechia, but keep in mind that everywhere in the world there are people with all kinds of tastes, picky eating, a sweet tooth, ability to stomach greasy meals etc.) You're also European, so I assume you're also bilingual, so you can call the shots on language use, but keep in mind that Viktor's Czech identity is probably not very strong, as neither is his Zaunite identity in the show - he has an accent, which is involuntary, and is part of what makes him stand out amongst Pilties - same as other things he is ashamed of.

If you don't wanna get into things with regards to the specifics of a Czech identity, you can try focusing on the ways you felt were ignorant in the fics/media about your own culture. Now I don't know where you're from, and I feel like Czechia isn't known well enough to have stereotypes other than general Slavic ones? So maybe this won't be super helpful.

It might be harder to depict depending on the AU. I'm writing a fic that is set in the world of the show, not modern, and when I talk about his cultural background, I think about what are the things that made him be this way. Why does he have an accent, what his family must've been like, his living situation, how was he able to play by himself in a sewer, work for Singed. I think about the intersection of Zaunite and Czech identity, or the clash of it - mostly I think about the fact that his family isn't Zaunite and they're living in Zaun, instead of thinking about specifics. (For example, food is scarce in Zaun in general, so I assume they're not gonna make traditional svíčková, which is a meal that takes two days to make and is meant for feasting - they're probably gonna make do with what they have.) When thinking of things are specifically Czech instead of Zaunite, think language, clothes, food and music. (Though in a modern setting, Czech music is very varied, like music is globally, so eh.)

If your AU has Viktor be specifically from Czechia, then that is different, and I don't exactly know how to help with that, other than finding a beta. (If you're gonna look for peeps on tumblr, the tags that Czechs here use are #česky and #čumblr, good luck. <3)

Less is definitely more when it comes to details, like, me for example, I honestly don't listen to any Czech music, other than the occasional nostalgic listen to a 15 year old song we used to listen to with girls in middle school, you could definitely make up a singer he used to like and throwing a song in his playlist on the bus to school or something. With regards to clothes, I would tie this to maybe memories of his grand-parents, perhaps some old photos his parents would have stashed away.

There are some things that I would specifically include as very grew-up-in-modern-Czechia, definitely coloured by my own experiences - grew up in a panelák, maybe grandparents living in a bum-fuck-ass village, grew up drinking energy drinks, froze his ass off and definitely slipped at least once every winter. He probably started drinking at a young age, unless he has a reason not to do it. (Think abnormally law-abiding family, or specifically avoiding his peers so he doesn't have anyone to drink with, etc. I stopped drinking when I turned 18 because of trauma + not wanting to, and it is very strange and kinda isolating around here.) To me, he's not from a big city, but that's your choice, as the author. Now, I Am Not The Arbiter Of Czechness lmao, and there are people who will disagree with me and maybe have other ideas.

I have personally found a fic that was painfully obviously written by an American (no hate to Americans, it Is probably difficult to write about other cultures when you don't have a frame of reference for them /gen, and I usually give a lot of grace to non-Czechs writing Viktor as Czech), and I couldn't make it past the first chapter. It was obvious that they made zero effort to do any research and they went kind of ham on the Czech cultural differences to America, the setting of that fic. It might've improved in the other chapters, but the impression this intro left me wasn't great. Firstly, they specified that Viktor is from Ostrava; now, I'm from former Sudetenland, which is very industrial and dirty and low-class and yeah, it feels kinda Zaun-esque to me lol, but it felt a Little offensive?? Because like. To me it feels different when a Czech posts an edit of Viktor carrying an Kaufland bag against a png of Ostrava, and when an American picks Ostrava to be a mirror to Zaun? Because Ostrava is a real ass place with real ass issues that affect real ass people lmao? Again, I am not from there, and I am not the arbiter of Czechness lmfao. Then they described the dorm room he was about to live in, and it's the blandest white dorm room ever, but they said that "it was nothing like his bedroom back in Ostrava" and then didn't elaborate, which is. What do you think dorm rooms look like in Ostrava lmao. (A funny detail I noticed but I'm cool with is that they said that the room was sooo different while being completely normal, but they didn't mention the very specifically American paper-thin plaster walls. Lol.) Now, sure, that would be fine, if there were no other details, but then Jayce in this fic is Hispanic American, and it's very clear how this is a culture they are much more familiar with. Which again, I'd be cool with. The thing is, in this chapter, Jayce gives Viktor a churro to try, and Viktor is super surprised and likes his first ever churro a lot. Thing with that is. Everyone in the modern world knows what a churro is. And, a churro is just fried dough dipped in cinnamon sugar, and yes, it is good, but we have those lol. Like literally, through americanization, there are places that sell churros, but also our most famous desert is a trdelník, which is a tube of baked dough dipped in cinnamon sugar, famous to the point where you look up "Czech dessert" and trdelníky are the first thing that comes up. It's just... I dunno. I could talk about this fic forever lmao it just pissed me off, but like, that's I guess what I would try to avoid - if your modern AU is set in America/Piltover that is America-adjacent, I would either have Viktor already acquainted with a lot of the culture through the internet or general americanization (you have the advantage of being European, so you know what that's like), and if he's trying/seeing/experiencing something new, have him compare it to what he's already familiar with.

I hope all this makes sense, and wasn't too rambly - if you have any other questions, I would love to answer them! <3

[biromantic-nerd]

Tagged by @dustorangeheartssnow

Number of stories posted to ao3: 78

Number of stories posted last year (2024) to ao3: 6 (or 5 + 1 chapter update)

Word count of works posted last year: 30,862 BUT! Since I had a chapter update, it counted that first chapter so it was actually 30,862 - 5,141 so 25,721 words in 2024

Total word count: 652, 774!!!!! Uh WHAT

Fandoms I wrote for in 2024: Merlin BBC, DC Nightwing Batman, Supernatural

Pairings: Gwaine/Merlin for one and the rest were all gen. (Love gen) [edit bc I FORGOT my Ash/Sam fic is technically a pairing]

Work I’m most proud of (and why): Okay there is one standout answer in my mind, easy. It's my "With Magic Soaking My Spine" Merlin fic. I had this idea that I loved and I thought it was far too big for me to write, but I did it anyways out of love. I poured SO MUCH love into that story. I can't believe I almost didn't post it - or write it at all - because I thought I wouldn't be able to give my idea what it truly deserved.

It is, by far, the work I am most proud of. The idea that I loved was this 'what if misunderstandings au' that I knew I wanted to make comedic but as I wrote it knew I wanted to make it so sad as well. And I am so proud of how balanced it turned out. I also set out from the story to make it a love story between friends - a dedication of sorts to platonic relationships - and I could not be any prouder of how well I achieved that goal.

I wanted to focus on tender friendships, funny misunderstandings, and heartbreaking vulnerability. And I do think I achieved that.

So no matter what sort of 'oh I wish this wasn't so clumsy' or 'I wish I had polished the transitions better' - this fic is the work I am most proud of.

And that it resonated with so many people - I just am grateful and proud. That does make me really proud. This fic has the most 'Oh I actually laughed' comments out of any of mine.

Also!! I'm really proud of "Been Waiting For The Sun" (also Merlin BBC lol) because I set out to write something that was like how I used to write and it turned out pretty imo. It had the depth I wanted, the romanticism of an internal reflection. So that one really ended up how I had wanted to, how I envisioned it. Usually my fics fall short of my too large aspirations. But that one ended up how I'd imagined it.

Work I’m least proud of (and why): Sometimes I get really embarrassed about my fics because I know they're self indulgent. (Which is okay! I know that! But it still hits me sometimes.)

I only cringe because know they could be written way way better. At the time of writing, I really was a lot better at accepting my faults and writing to write without being self conscious of my shortcomings because at least I was writing and having fun.

But the thing is!! I never want to rewrite them because they are oddly charming in how bad they are. Because you can SEE that it's just my love for the ideas that kept me going. And people resonated with that!

So in a weird way I am VERY proud of how 'bad' they are. Because they're so full of love, and I think that's something to be proud of.

I'm not going to name a fic, actually, because I AM proud of all my fics. And I know how much hard work and love I pour into writing these, and so I just can't ever throw one under the bus. No matter how embarrassed I am by myself I get, I also just... cannot pick one. I thought I could but seeing some typed was like breaking my heart what do you MEAN I'm least proud of that fic or that one when I love them so so much because they are my children

share or describe a favorite review you received: I have so many I love!! I always think of the people who are in a situation where they are not supposed to laugh but do; they are in public, they wake up their cat, it's 3am. I have SO many favorites!!! Myth and Audie's comments on "Been Waiting For The Sun" are so sweet. And there are SO MANY really insightful comments on my DC fics (dustorange dear I know you are reading this and YES! You especially!!)

But my first thought for comments is ALWAYS this one from "With Magic Soaking My Spine" bc they were reading the story and stopped to comment about this part I had thought was particularly funny and HAD TO TAKE A BREAK from it I love it.

^ That is THE comment I think about first when I think of comments I've received. I love it so much.

But here have some more faves (all from With Magic Soaking My Spine because I just love the way people comment about it lol)

A time when writing was really, really hard: These past few years!! Okay more than a few.

This is a little personal and I don't want to get into the specifics of it, but writing has increasingly been a mental and physical challenge for me. I am progressively getting dumber and dumber - this is a fact, not a fish for compliments - and so that makes writing really hard in multiple ways. Mentally and physically, it just makes things harder to write by far and those are my biggest obstacles. It's like banging my head on the wall over and over again but I WANT to write despite that resistance - and sometimes my head is like a wrecking ball that it finally breaks through the wall enough for me to do so but the process just is painful. Emotionally, I do really struggle as well and lose motivation to write, even putting aside the mental and physical barriers that make writing hard for me, because I get frustrated with myself for not being the person I thought I would be if it wasn't for my existing factors.

I think it's something most people will think they can relate to - falling short of their ideal self - but I am being very literal about this. I don't just feel like I am dumber; writing is genuinely painful for me because thinking is painful for me and so my brain just... cannot think like it used to. And is dumber as result.

A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Okay tmi but as I told my friends "I don't WHAT is in the water for SPN but it made me write a kink fic" (rated T though because I'm me) and I'd never ever had guessed I'd write that. But it was fun and imo a fun character study exercise.

A favourite excerpt of your writing: Okay from 2024?

When Sam re-entered the dining area, it took only a couple steps for Dean's head to swivel upwards and to the side, pin-pointing him with an intense look before his shoulders eased. Keeping his eyes on Sam, he grinned a brilliant smile and said something to Jo that made her scowl. He turned his gaze back to her as he laughed, loud and bright.

I like that because the Sam/Ash fic "The Smell of Your Hello" wasn't about Dean at all but I managed to do the brothers' intense bond justice in just the couple lines where Dean did show up.

I do like "An Ounce Of Peace Is All I Want For You"'s

The hair length looked a little familiar. With silent eyes, Dean measured it and tried to compare each strand to his Sam. It was a difficult task. These days, he often couldn't bear to look at his Sam. He counted bangs and layers and tried to match it in his head. There was a time when he could've placed each and every strand, no matter the way it parted. But now Dean looked and looked and could only visualize that maybe it was different from Sam's silhouette.

Uh of all time? Hard to say!

Maybe from "Twinges When It's About To Rain"

Today, just as it has always been in these years of doing this, he enters the room and approaches the couch. Bruce glances over the novel in his hands and then resumes reading, now with a small smile. Dick climbs onto the couch with years of practice, snuggles close to Bruce in a way that isn't possible outside this parlor room, outside of this couch so beloved to Bruce first and now beloved to Dick as well. A family heirloom of emotional attachment.

I REALLY like that last sentence. It's one of my faves.

I think - out of all time - it once again comes to "With Magic Soaking My Spine" as the winner. It's my favorite fic of mine for a reason, I guess.

"Do you ever think about the Fisher King?" Merlin blurted out. "And about how lonely he was?"

Arthur shook his head. "The Fisher King was long dead when we came upon him. He couldn't have been lonely. Merlin, is everything alright?"

"He still must have been lonely," Merlin argued even though he couldn't tell Arthur that the Fisher King had been alive only moments before Arthur had entered that room. "Being in that room, all alone, knowing he was going to die."

Arthur stood up, alarmed. "Merlin, what are you - " He stepped around the desk and raised one hand, as if to touch him.

"I think I'm lonely too," Merlin continued on, and Arthur paused. And then, gently, he let his hand come upon Merlin's shoulder like he had intended.

"I understand," Arthur said quietly.

Merlin shook his head. "I don't think you do. But I want you to."

Arthur stared at him intently, mouth pursed as he contemplated Merlin before him and his words. "Alright. Then tell me."

Having that vulnerability in my comedy fic was absolutely necessary and I think it's one of my best passages and one of my best characterizations. I can hear Merlin say it.

How did you grow as a writer last year: At the end of the year, I really tried to just embrace my writing regardless whether or not it was what I wanted it to be. I actually had some days of clarity in December where I got a lot of writing done and tried to focus on being thankful for that instead of wishing that I could do better than I am able to do.

How do you hope to grow this year: I want to write things and not hold them up to my personal standard. I used to be better at that, but it's so hard for me because I know I can do better in theory. But I will end up not posting at all if I waited until for myself to be 'better.'

It's a hard balance, but I want to try and accept my shortcomings while still trying to make things as polished as I can. I really do wrack myself over it, and I want to try and give myself the grace to be stupid. Yeah maybe there's no ending or no intro, but that's okay. Maybe I could have written this better, had I not been in the physical and mental state that I am, but I AM this way, and so maybe my writing shouldn't be on hold until I am 'better' because I'm not getting better. I don't need to be better in order to exist. Yeah, I want to give myself permission to exist in messy, stupid ways.

That being said!! I hope to grow by not giving up on myself either!! I don't want to accept that I can never try! I am ALWAYS trying!

It's such a hard balance for me, but I hope to grow by trying less and trying more - which sounds wild, I know.

Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): Okay so. I do have two friends I go to and just tell them all my writing ambitions and they kindly cheerlead for me, even when it's not their fandom. But they are my cheerleaders more than them influencing me. You know, I have to go with @future-dregs bc SO many of the tag conversations we have just get me so inspired to create something. The conversations make me go '!!!!' and then I just am excited.

Anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: Yes. I'd like to say [redacted] but like. I'm already oversharing so! Here we go!

Writing about mentally ill characters tends to work in experience from my life. It's just one of those things. Writing about Dick Grayson, Sam Winchester - yeah I draw from experience.

And I was undiagnosed for a long long time (still am for some of the things) so characters that aren't ~officially~ mentally ill are my Favorite kinds. Like they are - it's canon for sure but they're not given a name for their mental illness. So I can rub my little hands together and do whatever I want.

Also "tell yourself it's never gonna happen again" is inspired from my life 😬

Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Honestly dustorange said it best: "If what you want to write doesnt seem like it will have an audience and no one will want to write it but you REALLY love your idea, WRITE IT and do so with such like satisfaction and like dignity that you’re writing something truly a product of YOU and YOUR intuitions and knowledge and desires and thoughts, not just some burned-CD version of what you think some abstract Audience arbiter of popularity wants. Don’t even worry about things being popular. I know people say dont worry about that and then it is sad when your thing is unpopular or less popular and its like okay well. But its serious and its very important to not let people pick you up and move you from what you want."

But I guess my advice would also be to write whatever you want. Write the 'overdone' trope that's been done a million times. YOURS is worth writing. Get weirder. Write the fic you think no one will read but YOU want to write. Your idea seems too common? Too outlandish? Write it.

It seems not enough? Write it!!!!

You'll be amazed at yourself later. In the moment it might feel awkward or embarrassing. But when you listen to your inner self, there's something inside you that grows. It's a muscle you are strengthening. And the only way to do that is to do that! It feels clumsy sometimes trying to follow your heart, but you can practice! You can grow more comfortable with yourself!

And this is not to be confused with 'you have to come up with ideas on your own.' That is not what I mean by listening to yourself. Community is such a beautiful, fun thing, and if you get ideas from that then that's wonderful! You don't have to abstain from writing about the things you talk about with other people in attempt to 'only listen to yourself.'

But what I mean is that if you are enjoying an idea, you are thinking about it, and you find yourself wondering what that idea would look like - give into it! Give it a chance! And if you did get your idea from community discussions, please forget what the 'reception' of your idea would be like. I know sometimes I feel like my idea wouldn't live up to the hype or the intelligence that other people bring to the table. So sometimes that's scary or cringe! I get it. But that's what doing it for you means. You want to imagine what this idea looks like? Please do so. It's like trying a new flavor of ice cream. Maybe it'll be a sample, maybe you'll take home a pint, maybe you love it, maybe you think you are the only person in the world who would taste this flavor, maybe you think it should be popular but will be overlooked because of other flavors, maybe you're scared of not getting your usual flavor, maybe you convince yourself to not get ice cream at all because of it. But listen!! You can!! You CAN!!

Once I wrote a rarepair fic where I was the 2nd ever fic for that pairing. There was NO demand for that, I thought, but I wanted to write it. It's one of my favorite fics even though it's cheesy because I wrote it for me - and also personally because I feel like I did their characterizations well. Six years later as I'm checking, there are now 13 fics total with that pairing. And I just think that's neat.

My fics have moments or scenes or conversations that are so self indulgent. My friend read me for filth and once said I write the conversations I wish I could have. And it's true! That inspires a LOT of my writing! I just like to write the things I want to work through, whether that's fluff or angst or whatever.

And I think there's a lot of pressure for people to finish multi-chaptered fics but you can literally start an infinite amount of them. If you want to work on something new, you are ALLOWED! I often take YEARS in between chapter updates. Also so far only 1 (one) person has ever complained about it lol. So don't think that you have this obligation to never start something unless you know you can finish it. Start it anyways!!! So many of my favorite stories are 'incomplete' but they complete ME!!! Don't be afraid of starting! (I'm still working on that for one shots lol! It's scary thinking you won't ever finish something but you have GOT to try anyways!)

Any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: My FebuWhump fics are actually progressing really good, so I'm going to be able to participate this year! And not only participate but quite a few! I'm really surprised! And one of them, I am far more proud of than the others. I am really looking forward to posting that one! (SPN fans be on the lookout for 'A Garden Locked Up' come February 👀)

[owlf45]

Hi Owl, did owl, did you ever hate your own writing? Like thinking its so bad to the point that you want to delete it? Because i just upload my first ever fanfic and keep overthinking about the fic, its just everytime i read it its feels worst than before 😭. Did you have advice about how to deal with this feeling?

Absolutely I did! Almost every author's note in all of my old fics has a section with me expressing how much I hated my own writing.

The beginning stage of writing is hard. It's okay if what you wrote wasn't exactly what you had in your head, but if you're having fun with the process, the end product doesn't have to be perfect (it never is). It doesn't matter. You'll only get better at writing as you go.

Secondly, the more you read something repeatedly, the more you hate it. Forbid yourself from reading your fic for the next few months. Some of the writing I hated the most, I went back to read it years later and it was funny, charming, or downright amazing. If you read it too often, you become so entangled with it that you forget that a reader is absorbing everything you wrote for the first time— and they'll probably love it. Leave it alone until you can look at it with fresh eyes. Stop reading it! Don't obsess over it.

Also, it's straightforward as an author to point out what you think are 'flaws' in your work. But guess what? Readers... probably won't even notice. In fact, some of the things you think suck, your readers will find meaning in. When I was younger and a bit more nihilistic, I thought Imaginary was always too fluffy to be that rich in complexity compared to some of my darker works. However, readers pointed out how the fact that the characters choose kindness and silliness—repeatedly, despite their own history—is refreshing, optimistic, and genuinely joyful. Your readers can find so many valuables in your writing that you never even comprehended while writing it. So you can hate your work, but really, you only hate your perception of it.

(I can never give a concise response, so the rest is under the cut:)

I have deleted plenty of my old works because I hated them. There are about ten that will never see the light of day again. And while I don't regret taking them down, I GREATLY regret not saving backups. My recommendation: keep your fic up (for now) until you've written a couple more. You learn a shitton of writing skills within those first few fics, and if you keep backtracking rather than moving forward, you might feel stuck. Once you get more comfortable with the writing process and you have a bigger pool of writing to compare with, then start thinking about what you want public and what you don't. (And save everything as a backup). I caution you against obsessing over a perfect profile/discography, however, and deleting everything as soon as you don't like it anymore. It's very easy to compare your works and your stats with this invisible standard you've set for yourself, or with other creators. Don't.

My relationship with my writing improved the most when I started posting more, and when I kept the silly stuff on my profile. When I only had 3 works (and two were long-form WIPs), I felt super self-conscious about posting anything new. But then I did Fic Fight and posted like 12 works in a month, and most of them are not that significant. But they were fun to write. Suddenly I gained a much healthier respect for my writing. It doesn't have to be perfect, I just have to enjoy writing and sharing it with others. I think all writers who put a lot of stock into their writing have to internalize that at some point.

If you really enjoyed writing your first fic, and you really want to share it with others, then keep doing it. There may come a time down the line, maybe a few years later, when you can look back at this fic and recognize how you would write it differently. But that comes with time and experience. So keep writing for fun and for yourself! (And if you're stuck, stop re-reading your writing, and ask a friend to beta your work for you!)

Hell, I will give a perfect example right now. For all I appreciate my own writing, I still get a little weird about Imaginary. So I asked a few of my readers, whenever I'm done with the next chapter, to read it before I post it and vibe-check it. I've been doing this since chapter 3. I've been doing it for five years, basically. And literally every time I've gotten nothing but kindness, and I still, irrationally, freak out every time I have to update again. Does that stop me? No, though it does take me forever to update! So you should do the same! Keep going! Even if it takes you a while.

So yes. There's my forever-long lecture. I fail always to be concise. I hope this helps.

[muirmarie]

for the fic ask game:

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year aaaaand

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write

no preasure!!!!!! :)

3. Favorite line/scene I wrote this year: gotta go way back to the start of the year for this one, but the end fight in the time loop fic, "it ends or it doesn't". I'm not the type of writer that writes a lot of beautiful lines - I don't mean that in a self-deprecating way at all, it's just not my style . My style of writing is one where my goal is to make uhhh none of it stand out? I want it to ideally draw the reader in without hmmm conscious effort. I want you inside the story before you realize you're reading a story. (Yes, I'm aware that sounds silly, but I always sound silly when I talk about my writing lmao.) SO I really don't tend to have specific lines that stand out, imo?

[cut for length but also because the rest of the answer to 3 does have spoilers for the time loop fic which is the only fic I've ever written where I do think spoilers matter]

BUT the build-up throughout "it ends or it doesn't" did allow me to write A Fight. I adore writing arguments. I love when people spend a great deal of time not saying what they mean, and then when a fight finally blows up, everything they're not saying suddenly spills out. One of my absolute favorite things. So the fight in "it ends or it doesn't" - that's my favorite. It's a long scene - the fight itself is as long as some of my other fics, haha, so the actual line that's my favorite is: “Leonard, why do you believe your love to be a burden?” Mostly because I don't often get the opportunity to distill a fic down to a single line - usually it would feel too obvious or too heavy-handed, but this one not only allowed it, the set-up of it basically demanded it.

But yeah, honestly the emotional catharsis of that fight makes it my fave. Some people commented they were happy I didn't end the fic on them getting out (which I appreciate!), but I was always writing the story to the fight, not to their escape, which is why the fight felt, I think, so necessary? Because the central issue was never about escaping, it was about McCoy refusing to be loved.

14. A fic I didn't expect to write: Oh that's easy, that's the enemy within fic! There were plenty of other fics I wrote this year I didn't necessarily plan for, but the enemy within one (wish i was a better liar) is the only one I adamantly said I wasn't going to write lmao. I wrote the first idk 500 words or so and posted them on a discord with a very strongly worded message that i Wasn't Writing It, and then I, y'know, wrote a 17k story lmao.

Sex...generally doesn't interest me that much. Fully support it, think everyone should read and write it if they like it!! But writing sex is a lot of work for me, and because it doesn't interest me much, I very rarely write it - this was I think the second explicit fic I've written in my life? I've mentioned on here that I have aphantasia, aka I don't visualize things in my head, and to get around that I tend to hang my descriptions on very specific hooks, and that works pretty well for most of my writing I think, but sex is very physical, so it's honestly kind of a pain to deal with. I think it's one of the reasons I don't find it very interesting to read, either - part of it is the grey-ace thing, sure, but a big part I've come to realize is that I skim scenes with lots of descriptions. Clothing, furniture, city or building layouts, I'm not visualizing it, it's going in one ear and out the other, so I might as well skim it. I think that's the case with sex, too?

Now that you have all the reasons why I'm the worst person to write sex lmaoooo, the draw of it for me was Kirk. The story's mostly focused on the wolf!Kirk, and I couldn't get out of my head this idea that he's desperately clawing at McCoy for something he can't name - that McCoy will give him anything to bring his Jim back, but he can't give him love. And wolf!Kirk shouldn't want love! Love makes you weak! He can't be weak! But it still doesn't stop that desperate, clawing wanting.

When I realized I couldn't shake that, I realized I Had to write it, and it was, truly, such a pain to write re: the physicality of it. I think one of the reasons why there's so much dialogue and hmm idk if introspection is the right word? is because it breaks up the physical actions for me. Very much a character study wrapped up in sex.

(To be clear I know a LOT of stories about sex are character studies, and also a story doesn't need to be about anything besides sex to be good!!! This is really just me explaining how I tricked myself into writing the thing that's the hardest thing for me to write, it's not a value judgment on sex/smut/etc!!! This is why I rarely go into this type of thing, lmao, I've been called a prude Too Many Times in my life, and this is me genuinely just trying to explain it fucking sucks to have to try to hold that data in my head as I write since I cant' see it! Sex and physical altercations!!! Too physical, too hard to write!!!)

Anyway then the after part of it got way way way too long as well, which mostly works because I loved how the Spock giving McCoy that aftercare turned out! The fight at the end of this one I don't love as much, but that's okay, sometimes fights are just messy jumbled messes like that haha. I think I left a little too much unsaid for this one, looking back. Like I think the end fight would've paid better dividends if I'd pulled more to the surface? But overall I'm pretty happy with how the fic turned out, and it did open me up to writing more sexy fics (even tho they're SO difficult for me lmao SIGHHHH)

Thank you!

[lunarsilkscreen]

Boredom

Nature of the Job; I don't have a lot of freedom... They keep reminding me that I could pull a [Dick Cheney] whenever I want and that should be sufficient equivalent exchange...

I'm uncomfortable. I've been uncomfortable for what seems like several years. They tell me that this kind of isolation is not good for a person's mental health... 😒

I have a very powerful Tablet I could be playing games on; but none of this is comfortable... So I stick to my phone.... The purposeful downgrade...

I'm not even allowed to access any of my old accounts because of their inherent insecurity. RIP Steam account... RIP MMOs....

I could download and play them; but then I would be frustrated at having to start over.

So I plink around on Sudoku-Likes (why are these stupid apps pay-to-play? Why is it so expensive to play easy games? Stupid old people.)

And of course; Hearthstone, where they keep testing AI that are purposefully geared to the highest level players; and several other high-ranking players because they like that I'm an actual challenge and they actually lose against me in interesting ways.

Bleeeehhhh...

So Ive written lots of these posts just waiting.

I feel like a Kid again! Not in the good way; that "Waiting for your Mother to finish shopping" kind of way... Wow... What a near exact replica of my childhood.

Gameboy Games and Waiting.

Except without the Nintendo Switch... Because they might confiscate it for *reasons*.

They say "Training ends the day you start your new Job" ughhhh...

I have a lot of pent up negative energy.

I want to break all the things. I want to step in a Truck.

They keep feeding me pellets like "Don't forget your Bride" and "just think of all the Presidential Trolling you'll be able to do." And all the hobbies you'll be able to get back to once you're "Free".

I want to bang my head against a wall.

They said I could always take a "moon trip" weeds in every corner store nowadays...

They know they'll sabotage it too.

So I can't even do that unless I wanna take a *real* bad trip.

I'm not even sure exactly how much of what I post actually makes it to the public; or if I'm stuck on a private Tumblr server for EVER.

And then I realize that this mirrors all of President Trump's "presidential tweeting". I understand why he never stopped tweeting now.

This Sucks.

I've taken to doing silly side quests just to get through it. Side Quests are expensive.

At least with my current salary.

One of them is almost over; they made an faux account for my Credit Cards (which have already been paid off) and I'm just spending money into as if I haven't already.

Unless I'm actually just going crazy and this is a Dream where I only think I'm President-Elect...

But at least my bills will be paid off.

I have no Idea where I'll be taken next or when..or even if I'll be conscious for it.

My next side-quest is to purchase a Vehicle (preferably with room to sleep in it) just so I can make a Jail Break for the border...

Or just, go camping I GUESS.

The position they have me in is equivalent to being homeless; so I've just been playing the part in order to keep an ounce of integrity.

I wonder if this is actually a plot to Usurp power since I can't really stop them.

Then I remember they could just kill me.

Then I wonder if certain [un-alivings] of certain figures were to cover up a self-sacrifice.

It's like being in Solitary confinement without the Solitary.

It messes with your head.

And I keep wondering if *any* thing is real anymore.

They keep telling me that I'm one of the first to take it so well.

THANKS MOM. FOR THE TRAINING. I GUESS.

I'm in the forefront of human knowledge, I cannot write anything new, because no one has caught up. If you're wondering how; I listened to nearly every podcast about every thing over the course of a few years.

I have not watched a lot of new movies or anything.

Nothing good on Netflix; and my feed is full of my own content force-fed back to me in different ways.

It's like I can't do anything unless it's study political, economic, and scientific trends and write analyses on them.

And watch TV shows where some part of my life takes center stage. Which; great for the narcissism; bad for the headaches as I learn new things about my own history in fiction.

I have to wait on mathematical textbooks to change because I'm terrible at Trigonometry and Calculus functions.

Also it's a pain to do complex math stuff on your phone... Somebody should really make an app for that.

Well... Back to listening to that podcast my wife made for me...

Better not be intruded on by that guy that talks that way that makes me want to kick his disembodied voice into the stratosphere again...

[dungeonmalcontent]

Man, any time a creative person shows me their project and they're like "What do you think? Where could I improve?" I really need to go "I like it. Maybe not how I would have done it but it works well. I'm excited to see where this goes."

But no, the stupid idealist person in my head keeps going "Don't sugar coat this. Offer the advice you'd like to hear. Better yet, offer to help if they're up for it." And then I do. And then they accept my offer. And then I sit down to see what I can do, because I'm gonna stick to my word darn it, and I either get so invested in working on it that I lose track of time and it's hours later than I thought it was or I'm so hopelessly out of my depth I have to apologize for even thinking I was up to the task (except for that one time the solution was literally just to delete an element from the page for print accessibility; that was an easy one where I knew exactly what I was doing and it was easy to do).

Anyway I'm struggling to remember my training in page layout. It's been years since I've had to do anything really innovative with page layout, but I'm working on a TTRPG character sheet redesign (and it isn't for 5e, not even d&d) and I'm both very into it and also struggling to keep up with myself. Mostly because I really like flowery line art but can't do it and get really self conscious when I make something really blocky but functional. But the layout is what's important. And for the life of me I can't remember which was the dominant model of page scanning for persons between the age of ~15 and ~30. Because there's a way that people look across a page and it changes depending on how old you are (or really, what generation you're from). And I'm too stubborn to do a web search right now.

You can see why I'm making this post, right? I'm losing my mind a little? Getting sucked into the project maybe? I'm about 10 steps from ranting to my reflection in the bathroom mirror about ideal proportions for vector graphic text frames, and those 10 steps are the literal steps between my bed (where I'm writing this) and the bathroom vanity.

[if-confessions]

I've been in the IF fandom for almost two years now, and I don't think I've ever found a fandom I've liked as much. I like the community here, the stories, creativity, how diverse the games are compared to other media I see.

I like reading IF, but more than that I'd really to create an IF game myself. I've been creating stories since childhood and I've always wanted to tell them to other people. However, I was never able to find a suitable medium for doing so. Creating video games is a passion that met reality and died too fast, writing traditional books makes me incredibly anxious, and comic and visual novels require way too much drawing when I'm a concept artist at best. And IF... IF seems to be exactly what I was always searching for. But here's a twist.

I'm not a writer. I'm really not. The amount of writing that I've done that wasn't for my studies is... not a lot. Which makes me extremely self-conscious of my writing, and I'm a very anxious person to start with (and English not being my native language doesn't help). I just don't know where to start, I've never even written fanfiction. And then if I end up actually writing something and posting it for people to see, I'm afraid of what they'll say, of me not being good enough, or of people being uninterested in anything I create. It's dreadful really. And I know that this feeling is possibly shared by so many other people, but I just don't know what to do about it.

I had wanted to post this earlier, but Tumblr ate my essay again...

Welcome, Anon, to the wonders of IF! Have a seat, and a cookie, and enjoy the ride! It's quite the experience, you'll see...

Totes understand your worries. With so many good projects out there, it's easy to not feel... adequate (in writing or proficiency); and with many in the community having opinions, to be unsure whether to publish said work.

But here's the thing: many of us in the IF community (especially as hobbyist) have not studied writing (for a while or at all)* or are writers either, and quite a few of us are ESL (hi, hello!)**. So you are in very good company!! *sidenote: some of us consider ourselves game dev/creators before writers too. **Dear... you wrote an essay of an ask with no mistake (that I could find) - I would not have guessed you were not a native speaker, if you hadn't said it before.

To relieve those anxious feelings, here are some advice, from one ball of anxiety to another one:

You don't have to publish anything you don't want to have public. If you prefer to write for yourself and yourself only, it's more than fine. Having fun is what matters.

There are ways to "hide" your project from searches (on itch or tumblr) to have a bit more privacy, as well as disabling replies/comments/ratings...

Setting boundaries from the beginning with people interacting with your projects (whether it is in asks, or doing beta/feedback rounds/etc...) can also be quite helpful (even if some people don't follow them...).

Join writing groups and share snippets/ask for feedback. It's helpful to get some boosts of confidence and get pointers on how to improve.

Have beta/playtest rounds for longer feedback needs (like when you are ready to upload/update a demo, to catch bugs or typos and stuff).

Joining game jams with small projects can help with testing ideas/stories/gameplay, and get comments/feedback from people.

Anyway, we all start somewhere, and very often (most always) that somewhere is not good at all. But that's ok :) There's always room and time for improvement and change (until you're finally happy with it). The beauty of online games is that you can always tweak it and fix it when something doesn't feel right. Nothing is ever set in stone!

Good luck :)

[tookishcombeferre]

Happy 8th Birthday Undertale!

It’s hard to believe Undertale turns 8 today!!

I’m going to be posting more of my fic (2 chapters) today in celebration, but I wanted to post something a little more personal on my blog.

In Summer 2022, I gave birth to a squish. Bean is incredible. I adore them.

One day in late Fall/Winter of 2022/2023 we were going on an Amma/Bean outing to just see some more of the world. I decided to play the Undertale soundtrack because I was feeling nostalgic and it was a style of music Bean hadn’t heard yet.

When I say Bean imprinted on “Death by Glamour” I mean they imprinted on that song to the point that I was allowed listen to nothing else for 72+ hours straight. If I changed the song, they would straight up banshee scream until I put it back on.

Eventually, I showed Bean MTT’s boss battle and we listened to the Man on the Internet cover of the song as well. (This was the only variation I got in listening to the same song for almost a month.)

For Bean’s six month well check, Dada and I decided to get them a plush of Mettaton mostly as a joke. We figured we’d put it in a keepsake box to give to them after they graduated high school.

Nope. They imprinted on it! Ton-ton had to go everywhere. This was to the point we felt the need to get them a second one for their birthday in case Ton-ton the original got lost or came unstuffed.

I’ve found my Bean’s bond with MTT to be kind of interesting. I’m the primary “stay at home” caregiver to Bean, but I’m an actor and writer on the side. I’m also a relatively femme-looking transmasc person. So, sometimes, seeing them holding, cuddling, and just now starting to talk to MTT like a best friend makes me kind of emotional. I see their empathy for people who are different. I see the kind of love that I’m fostering in them for my community. I have hope for the way Bean will accept me in their easy acceptance of the “KISS Doll” as my parents call him.

I’ve just moved back about 5-10 minutes away from my family after a long time running all over the country and state. That, and I just came out to all of my family this year. There’s been some good moments in that and some very painful ones.

Dada (my spouse) and I started playing Undertale around Spring of 2023. My spouse hasn’t really played the game in any significant way, but we started with True Pacifist because life is too sad to do anything else. We’re only just getting into Waterfall because, as new parents, we don’t have a lot of free time.

But, I’m looking forward to meeting Mettaton again. Because, as weird as it sounds, I feel like I owe him an apology.

When I first played the game, I wanted to kill Mettaton … so badly. I hated him because, in a way, he reminded me of me. So, I figured killing him would feel like killing the part of me that I hated. I knew I couldn’t really do anything to myself without hurting the people I loved in ways I didn’t want to - I might have been self-centered at times, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t just leave. But, I was playing with my friend at the time and she was very adamant about playing True Pacifist and nothing else. (I also managed to get a spoiler about what happens to Alphys if you kill Mettaton and that really put me off it because Alphys was my favorite.)

But, in many ways, I hated Mettaton in the ways I hated myself. He was merely a stand in for me.

I “ran away” from home and changed my identity.

I upset my family.

I could be over dramatic.

I had my manic moments.

I wanted fame in my writing and my performance, and I wasn’t shy (or all that humble) about sharing my big dreams (or my talents there in).

So, I look forward to meeting him again because I owe that trans masc robot an apology for hating him so much.

For, through the eyes of my child, (through no expectation or conscious thought of Bean’s own) I’ve learned to love myself all because of a silly techno song and an Etsy plush.

But, it all started with a lovely little game 8 years ago. So, thanks Toby Fox. Happy Birthday Undertale.

[amourlyns]

hi lovely! I read through your blog and saw you wrote for apex! it's really a hyperfixation at this point!! would you mind if you could write a oneshot with Mirage with a massive crush on an gn!actor!reader? they sit with him a lot outside of the games and go over lines and monologues with him; just a very extroverted and open person... until they get on stage with Mirage and they have to compliment each other for one of Fuse's jokes at a sort of open mic thing? thanks for fulfilling this if you do, and have fun with it! I hope it wasn't too specific-- regardless, have a lovely day and take care of yourself!! much luv <33

⠀ 「 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞. 」

⠀ ━━ 🌷 💕

✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⨟⠀ One thing leads to another and now you’re confessing your feelings to him.

✦ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ⨟⠀Elliot 〞Mirage 〞Witt + gn actor!reader

✦ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 ⨟⠀This request is sooo cute omg … I love this sm, tysm for requesting 🤍 also, this posted and I wasn’t finished with it yet ): ➜    masterlist

✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ⨟⠀ None

⠀ ★ ⠀ | ELLIOT FELT LIKE WAS BURNING UP from your touches, they were free, loose and careless. You’d throw your limbs on him hazardously, falling into a fit of laughter. You found of his cheesy jokes funny.

He couldn’t help but smile, his heart was going a million miles per hour right now. And your eyes lingering on his face didn’t help him with the feelings arising in his chest, his heart felt like it was going to burst.

Sometimes, he wondered if you knew what you were doing to him, he was a stuttering, chuckling mess. The poor guy couldn’t help get nervous around you, he felt stressed out and excited at the same time.

He’d talk a little too much when he was around you… it made him self conscious… but it always got his adrenaline going. Now today? Today, Elliot really thought he was going faint on the spot. Apparently, the games thought it would be amazing for you and Elliot to have an open mic night with Fuse.

Well they were wrong. Elliot couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat while they were doing his hair and makeup, all he could do was glance over at you. And god you looked good, a soft smile plays on his lips.

It’s not long before everyone completes their make up. Bright light shine on the stage, the set is similar to talk show, wally takes a seat in the middle while you sit in the right chair. Elliot decides to take a seat in the left.

Conversation flows pretty easily between the three of you. You’d talk about your latest projects with a bright enthusiasm, Fuse and Elliot would listen intently. After you discussed your future works, you insisted on hearing about the games.

Everything about the games had you on the edge of your seat! Mirage would watch you with stary—eyes. Your enthusiasm only encourages the pair to continue talking. The discussion between you guys eventually simmers down, it’s not long before Fuse suggests something new…

Now, he may be an old dog but he could sense when someone fancied someone. And in this case it was Elliot, poor bloke couldn’t even utter a straight sentence around you. It was charming in a way though, all he needed was a little bit of encouragement… and Fuse could definitely do that.

From the corner of your eye, you see Fuse beckoning over a few of the members from the tech crew. They were all grinning.. what on earth was he planning? ❛ Listen here pups, we’re gunna do somethin’ a lil different! Ever heard of an open mic? We’re doin’ that hit uh.. Valentine’s Day addition. So compliment each other! ❜

This would be easy— you already complimented Elliot all the time, how hard could it be?.. you’d spare a a glance to the trickster only to be met with a soft blush. Was he nervous?

It was definitely unexpected— but actually pretty cute…you couldn’t pass up this opportunity. ❛ Easy! It’ll come real naturally to me anyways. I do this with him all the time! ❜ God, you were gonna be the death of him.

The first few rounds are cute— very light, they still have him stuttering and blushing but it’s nothing too bad right? Well he was wrong! It was his turn to compliment you and how was he supposed to do this without sound like a huge dork? With a crush.

❛ Alright, alright! you’re good I’ll give you that. But I’ve got one more compliment! ❜ you’d urge him on nodding frantically a soft smile played on his lips. What was holding him back? ❛ Dang, your acting is amazing! I’m hoping to see it in person? ❜ he messed that up big time… ❛ Hah! Elliot are you finally asking me out? It’s a bit informal but I’ve been waiting forever… ❜

He definitely wasn’t expecting that… but he scored a date with you!! Fuse was grinning ear to ear, that heaven sent angel! A few chuckles go around the studio. He must’ve looked like schoolboy confessing to his crush for the first time. I mean, he sure felt like it.

After the shoot was over. You dragged Elliot out, apparently you already had a date plan in mind. Flowers, dinner, a nice private walk with just to the two of you.. no paparazzi… no noise. What else could he ask for ?

[threewaysdivided]

I just wanted to say: I love your art and especially your banner rn by talos! also your fic as well thank you for creating everything that you do for people, it’s awesome!

Second: what’s something that you’ve been chewing on lately, story wise? What character conflict, or plot point can you tell me about (that doesn’t spoil too much of course)? I wanna hear your thoughts about the characters you write and your head-cannons on them too! Just spit some word vomit at me!

Thank you! 

My current banner art is actually a crop of the first paired piece I ever did to go with my Deathly Weapons fic.  (Specifically Chapter 11, which I still have a soft spot for since it’s one of earliest chapters that really let me lean into scratching the thing-I-haven’t-seen-too-often-in-fanfic itch.) 

I recently got my hands on a discounted Wacom (my digital art process got tanked a few years ago when my poor art-compatible hybrid tablet-laptop was tragically taken from us by a cracked motherboard) so I’m looking forward to getting into a faster art workflow again and maybe putting some new pieces out more easily.  I’d like to do more comic art pieces for the Chapter 18 mission, and there’s a silly little concept drawing for the planned Mission 5 that might be new-blog-banner material if it turns out nicely.  We’ll have to see how that goes.

As for what I’ve been chewing on story-wise lately… I’ve sort of been all over the place.  I’m still on burnout recovery so I’ve been letting myself move non-sequentially, working on the bits my brain feels like focussing on rather than trying to force creativity where the juice isn’t flowing.   (One of the things about being my type of writing-nerd is that “self-indulgent” for me means a story with plenty of material to analyse, which is very fun as a reader but has created a lot of work for myself as the writer.  As mentioned in another post, I have a full-blown TV-show-style story-bible for this one.)

Recently, my authorial ping-pong-ing has been going into a fair bit of spoiler territory.  There are some chunks of the Act III endgame plan which are underdeveloped in the specifics of what the big-boss bad-guys’ plan is, whether I want to involve the Anti-Ecto Acts more, and the logistics of both the counter-strategy our heroes are planning to use and how to make its more action-heavy parts look cool in writing.  When I’m not doing that I’ve been focussing a lot on the upcoming Wally-centric chapters, which are a set I’ve been wanting to keep schtum about since there’s a small potential spoiler mixed in and I don’t want to risk giving the game up or pre-setting people’s expectations before they have a chance to blind read (even if a few people have already made some close guesses in the comments).  It puts me in a bit of an odd-spot right now because the chapters I’m drafting are an immediate spoiler, the later sections I’m working on are a major spoiler and there’s a good chance that a lot of the character stuff going on in the middle won’t make a whole lot of coherent sense without prior context because of how I like to layer foreshadowing/development.

That said, Wally-centric chapters mean Wally thoughts, and of those I have plenty to share:

First of all, I want to establish that I really do like Wally as a character.  The DW chapter set comprising Flashpoints through to Equilibrium is going to explore and develop some of his flaws and insecurities, which means he isn’t going to be looking his best, but it’s not meant to be a Ron The Death Eater situation.  He’s just a complex person, and taking him warts and all means sometimes you have to get up close and personal on the warts.

Something that I’m maybe a bit over-conscious of when reviewing my DW story notes is worrying about letting Wally slide into just being punching-bag joke-fodder.  Wally is quippy, irreverent, a little tactless and prone to being a bit of an impulsive goober who sometimes gets possessed by teenage boner-brain, which makes him easy to fall back on as a default source of incidental levity (whether cracking the joke or being the punchline).  Because I’m now writing an 8-character ensemble where most non-focal characters only get a few lines per conversation, it’s easy for characters to slide into being defined by their strongest surface level trait(s)… and something I worry about with Wally is that his availability as a source of jokes runs the risk of Flanderisation into a disposable Scrappy/ Flirty Comic Relief, which isn’t his character.  Wally is actually really important – not just for his scientific book-smarts but for his perceptiveness, earnestness and ability to function as one of the emotional barometers for the squad – so I always have it in the back of my mind to make sure I include enough moments that actually demonstrate those qualities and the other characters’ appreciation of them/ their friendship, so that it counterbalances the more light-hearted goofery.

I think he’s walking the same tightrope as Sokka from Avatar: the Last Airbender – yes, he tends to take the L more often than the others for comedy purposes and sometimes he gets stuck with supremely dumb side-plots for the sake of tonal balance, but to claim that it’s the entirety of his characterisation really misses the point by a wide mile.

On that note, I actually really like the decision YJ!Animated decided to go with in its first and only season (ahem) in giving Wally a normal and functional family background.  I know that’s not the typical background for his comics counterparts (and no shade on other fan-writers who want to write AUs exploring the abuse dynamic, those are really interesting stories) but I think it was a smart deviation for the purposes of a large ensemble, and offered a fair bit of potential for cast-balance.  It lets him serve an important role as the normal one – not only as an easy window into what the current lives of ordinary middle-class civilians look like (which is good because ordinary people are who our heroes are donning the masks to protect) but also as a touch-stone for the others, most of whom either come from different cultures or from very atypical backgrounds.  Even if we discount the Impure Atlantean with military training, the ostracised White Martian and the Half-Alien clone-weapon, the other members of this line-up are an orphaned circus acrobat adopted by a billionaire, a girl from a dangerously dysfunctional criminal household where she was forced to fight her sibling, and a fledgling sorceress raised by an overprotective single Dad.  The others might intellectually understand what a “normal” childhood and family look like but they don’t necessarily know it as intuitively and intimately as Wally does.  That normality gives Wally the potential to be a more stable foundation for the others, a source of emotional contrast and of a necessary wholesome mundanity.  That is a good thing for the Team to have.  I think it also speaks volumes to the heart of his character.  For this Wally, the Flash and heroism weren’t an escape from a bad personal situation.  His life was actually pretty comfy and privileged - he didn’t experience a brutal wakeup to the injustices of the world or some other personal call to action.  This is a Wally who opted into the game because he loves the players and sincerely believes in their values and mission.  And while that might mean he has a more romanticised idea of what heroism entails – and will probably face some rough shocks down the line as that rosy vision runs into those more brutal realities – it also means he brings a sincere hopefulness to the job that is less hardened than a lot of his roughed-up, pre-jaded peers.  Underneath the teen sarcasm and surface-level lancer/smart-guy traits, this Wally has as much power to be a stealth-Heart as any of his Flash!counterparts.

Something else I find interesting when using Wally is how a lot of his strengths and flaws feed into each other – and I think this alternate backstory is part of it.  For all of his good heart Wally can come off as insensitive, and I think some of that could be read as a product of living a more charmed life.  I think he’s susceptible to a thing that a lot of real people do – universalising their own personal experience as the default – and that while he is canonically a geek and somewhat genre-savvy about hero cliches, he’s a geek about in-universe media so he probably doesn’t think to apply those tropes to “real people” like himself or his colleagues.  While this Wally is a skeptic, he’s not a cynic, and I think he might forget how much of an outlier he is in a world where things like living parents and loving parents are often mutually exclusive.  He’s smart enough to connect dots but there’s a little blind-spot where he simply might not think to until one of the others jabs an elbow into his ribs, because his default view on humanity is in some ways a little kinder than typical due to that small but still significant amount of privilege.

At the same time, Wally is also someone who has probably run into (or watched his mentor run into) a lamp-post at high-speed at least once in his career.  He contains multitudes and among those multitudes is an endless capacity for some absolute Looney-Tunes nonsense, which the world is 100% better off for having.

I love him, your honour.