#perhaps this year I'll finish more lmao

[tc-doherty]

Whumptober 2021

As it turns out I only completed 2 prompts last year so I'm just going to post them here LOL both of them are set in the Second Chances universe but not involving any characters from the main story.

@muddshadow if you’re curious!

Prompt: All Trussed up and Still Nowhere to Go/ Bound

Character: Bri

Word Count: 1,231

“Stay out of the woods.” That’s what his mother had always said to him, although Bri had never needed any warning to stay away from them. He knew better than anyone what lurked there.

And yet, here he had ended up anyway.

He tugged futilely at the ropes binding his wrists. The rough twine dug into his flesh, staining itself and the stone altar below him in splashes of crimson. He didn’t care, he could barely feel it. A little physical pain was the least of his worries right now.

“You’re special,” his mother had always said to him. “You have the ability to do great things, you have the ability to help people.”

When the elders had first come to him with this ‘request’, he had begged them to reconsider. He had never asked anything of anyone. That had been his first - and last, he resolved - attempt to rely on anyone. They had ignored him in any case. He had also never done anything to anyone, but they all thought he needed to be punished anyway. It wasn’t his fault that his mother had fallen in love with a god and abandoned her marriage. But she had escaped their critique and punishment by pining herself to death, and only he was left behind to bear the burden of sin for both of them.

“You’re different,” his mother had always said to him. “People fear what is different, that’s why you should try hard to be good, and never cause trouble for anyone.”

Until that moment, he had tried hard to follow her advice.

At that moment, he had fought back as best he could, one fifteen-year-old against multiple full-grown adults. There were bruises on his arms, the back of his neck, and also on his knees from when they forced him down. But much like the raw and shredded skin on his wrists, those were not what bothered him.

He was bound by more than ropes, there was also the spell.

He could feel it, almost like a living thing in and of itself. It had its claws in him, but it was ready to crawl out of him and swallow something else. He tried not to gag. Realistically, he knew that the spell had no physical form, but he couldn’t help feeling like it was choking him from the inside anyway. Perhaps sensitivity to magic was just some other dubious blessing bestowed on him by his mixed blood.

But the worst thing, the worst thing was the forest itself. Because there was something in the forest, and he could feel its presence in an evil miasma all around. In much the same way that a bird would not want to find itself trapped underground, and a mouse would not want to find itself adrift on an ice flow, Bri knew that this was not where he should be.

And the presence in the woods was only getting stronger, because that thing was getting closer.

Coming for him.

He should not be here, he should be running for his life, and he would be if it weren’t for the damn ropes, if he could only break them, if he could only-

“Well, well, well.”

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. There was nothing to see, no physical body, but Bri knew that it was there with him.

While before his mind had been consumed with thoughts of escape, now it went completely blank as a wave of terror washed over him. His heart pounded so fast he had brief thought that it might be trying to claw its way out of his chest altogether. It would save him a lot of trouble if it did.

But his reaction only served to amuse the creature.

“What a cute little rabbit you are,” it said, “I guess that makes me the wolf.”

Something touched his cheek and he jerked back instinctively, but he was bound too tightly to actually accomplish anything. His skin burned where it made contact, and its subsequent laughter made his bones ache.

“It’s been such a long time since any of the villages have left me a sacrifice, it’s so good to see that some people, at least, remember the old ways.”

He could see nothing, but he could feel clawed fingers trace their way down his throat and across his bare chest. Lines of pain trailed in their wake.

This was the thing that they wanted to trap in his body? No, he couldn’t. He would die, this thing was antithetical to him, to his very nature. It would kill him, it would kill both of them. Some small part of him that had not yet completely succumbed to panic reminded him cynically that that was the point. The only way to kill this thing was to give it a physical body, and by using his the village was doing nothing but killing two annoying, unwanted birds with one stone.

Assuming, of course, that he stayed alive long enough for the conditions of the spell to be met, so that this thing could be trapped. Right now, he wasn’t sure about the likelihood of that.

“Oh don’t cry,” it said. He hadn’t noticed, but its invisible hands brushed tears off of his cheeks. “I promise I can be quite an amusing host, we’ll certainly have plenty of fun together little rabbit.” It began laughing then, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Bri was the son of a god, at least so everyone claimed. In a story he would’ve had something he could have used to protect himself. Magical powers, or perhaps miraculous strength. But he didn’t have anything like that. He was no different than any ordinary mortal child, and he knew that he was as helpless before this demon as he had been before the men who brought him here.

His mother had never given him any guidance for situations like this.

Bri closed his eyes.

That just made it worse, made him even more hyperaware of the malicious and predatory nature of the thing toying with him. He shuddered when something that could only have been a tongue lapped at the blood dripping down the length of his arm.

“They’ve been so accommodating, trussing you up like this,” said the demon. “But to be honest, rabbit, I don’t really like helpless prey. I’d rather play games with you.”

He did not see it cut through the rope binding his ankles, but he felt their sudden freedom and lashed out instinctively. His legs were caught before they could make contact.

“Patience, rabbit,” it chastised him. It sliced through the rope binding his wrists and Bri tumbled off the stone altar and into the snow below.

“What do you think, will you be able to make it to the edge of the forest before I catch you? Don’t worry, I’ll give you a head start.”

Bri didn’t bother with an answer. After several hours of being tied up in the cold, his body was stiff and awkward, but fortunately there was enough adrenaline to make up for that. He forced himself to his feet and fled.

He already knew, just as the demon must have, that there was no way he would escape. But if he didn’t try…

If he didn’t at least try…

It’s horrible laughter followed his stumbling progress through the woods.

Prompt: Talking is Overrated / Choking

Characters: Yrfan, Tarhir

Word Count: 910

Yrfan knew that Tarhir wasn’t the same person that he had been, that the quiet and sensitive young man he had devoted so many years of his life to had, motivated by fear of death, made choices he should not have, and meddled in things that he should not have meddled in, and as a result had changed. How could Yrfan not know that? They had spent over a decade in each other’s company by that point.

He knew, but he turned a blind eye to it.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have. Perhaps he should’ve left immediately. But emotions are the strongest chains of all, and it can be difficult to let go of something even if you know you should.

And, to be fair, Tarhir’s behavior towards him hadn’t changed that much. It was only his behavior towards other people. And yes, handling that kind of thing was Yrfan’s responsibility, and later he would certainly judge himself harshly for his inaction. But could he really be blamed for wanting to play pretend a little longer?

Perhaps.

If so, he was already receiving his punishment.

Yrfan could only let a single strangled noise of protest as the obedience spell carved into the collar around his neck leapt into life, cutting off his air supply and forcing him to the ground.

It went on longer than it should have.

At least, he thought so.

By the time he could breathe again his vision was dark and his thoughts were muddled.

“Why?” He managed, his voice hoarse.

Tarhir seemed to have no reaction to the whole thing. “There’s no point in letting you open your mouth if you’re only going to disagree with me all the time,” he said, and his voice was completely flat when he said it. As if it were obvious, or as if he were bored.

He was certainly not the person Yrfan once knew.

The fact that mages were forced to wear collars like this for this exact purpose had not bothered Yrfan before, at least not since he had started working for Tarhir. The fact that his ownership papers were in Tarhir’s hand had not bothered him, because Tarhir wasn’t the kind of person to abuse power. He wasn’t the kind of person who saw others as objects, or inferior.

At least, he hadn’t been.

The Tarhir of ten years ago had taken great pains to make Yrfan understand that regardless of the culture outside of the manor’s walls, within those walls he was a member of the family.

It was something that had taken Yrfan a long time to understand. And now it had vanished in the blink of an eye.

“This isn’t-”

The spell rose up again as soon as he began speaking, throttling him. Yrfan knew it was hopeless but he couldn’t help clawing at the collar as if he could do something to remove it, or stop it from enacting its only purpose.

It took all the energy had just to stay conscious, and when the restraint was removed he simply lay where he had fallen.

“All you ever do is chastise me,” Tarhir said. “All these years it’s only been ‘don’t do that’, 'that’s a bad idea’, 'it’s bad for your health’. I hate hearing those words from you. I don’t ever want to hear a don’t or can’t or shouldn’t from you again.”

“But I-”

The collar woke once again, leaving him coughing and gasping for breath on the floor.

“That’s another one,” said Tarhir. “Do you even have any other words in your vocabulary?”

Yrfan said nothing. He had been hired as Tarhir’s caretaker and personal healer, to make up for what his naturally frail body could not provide for itself. But Tarhir didn’t need that kind of help anymore, not since he had done…whatever it was he had done with that witch, and turned into this. How had things spiraled so far out of control?

He stayed down and massaged his throat, which ached as if he had swallowed scalding liquid.

Tarhir crouched next to him and gently pat his head, as if comforting a dog. “That’s better. Maybe you shouldn’t talk from now on. If you don’t talk, then I won’t get angry at you. You’re my favorite person after all, I hate being angry at you.”

Yrfan only nodded.

“Good, good,” Tarhir said. Yrfan hated hearing the smile in his voice, as if it were the old Tarhir. The one who had been friendly and open, who had found joy in everything and smiled all the time. “Well don’t lie around sulking too long, there’s a festival in the village square tonight and of course you’re going to escort me. I wouldn’t go with anyone else.”

Yrfan nodded again and Tarhir sprang to his feet. “I’ll wait for you downstairs! Remember, no talking, or you’ll spoil our evening.” He left the room humming.

It was only after he left that Yrfan climbed shakily to his feet. The skin around his collar was an angry red, as if it had physically choked him. He could heal that, but perhaps it would be better not to. Maybe, just maybe, if Tarhir saw the result of his actions, he would curb his own behavior.

Even as Yrfan thought it, he knew that it wouldn’t happen. Even so, he opened the door to their room and made his way to the common room of the inn. What else could he do?

[eowynstwin]

A note on future chapters of both Neighbors and the upcoming Soap series:

so, uh, with my recent neurodivergence revelation and also becoming familiar with PDA, I've decided to put absolutely no pressure on myself at all and refuse by all means necessary to update consistently. I make zero promises as to when any chapters will happen, or honestly if I will even FINISH any given work.

Behind the scenes I've been beating myself up a lot because I can't seem to get Neighbors chapters out faster than every two months, and I have always wanted more from myself in terms of writing. However with the deluge of realizations I've made in the past 36 hours I've come to understand that wanting more has made more an obligation, and (considering I'm not getting paid for this) my brain literally cannot work with that.

It's more than accepting or emphasizing that fanfiction is primarily for myself and thus is not subject to the whims and wants of others; I am very comfortable disappointing you all in favor of my well-being. Advocating for myself has been a skill I've worked very hard to cultivate. However, tuning my own expectations for myself has been harder to practice. I have always wanted to be more productive, more consistent, and more organized. I have always wanted to feel like I could do exactly what I wanted myself to do.

I've recognized in the end that having these expectations at all has perhaps been detrimental to my creative growth. My brain is not a neurotypical brain. The things that motivate a neurotypical brain--goal-setting, external accountability and satisfaction--do not motivate mine. They cause me stress and shame and anger and disappointment, all directed inward.

I have spent many, many years hating myself for falling short of these expectations. I have believed that the only reason I cannot meet them is because I am actively choosing to be a disappointment, because I do not have the self control to do "better" and change myself. I know now that this is not the case. I am different. My needs are different. This is okay. It is okay for me to be this way.

ALL OF THIS TO SAY LMAO that you'll see me when you see me. I'll have stuff for you when I have it. I still want to write for my series, because I'm very happy about them and it gives me a lot of joy to see other people enjoy my work, but I will no longer bind myself in obligation to them.

There will be no schedule, and I will no longer apologize for gaps between updates. I'm vibing. I'm embracing happiness. And my sincerest wish is that everyone who has been with me since the beginning finds the courage and the freedom to do the same. Thank you all so much for your support, especially through one of the hardest years of my life. It has meant the world.

[anattemptatmeaning]

You're the Only Friend I Need a Trobed fic

Author's Notes: Wow I have been very inactive and I'm also going on vacation so I rushed to finish this, I'll beautify this post along with my BT fanfic later. I saw this beautiful Trobed artwork on Tumblr by @greatredangel and it made me think of the song Ribs by Lorde. Then I visualized them dancing at a bar to the song while Abed is having bittersweet thoughts. It became this. Hope y'all enjoy Troy and Abed in a ba-ar! Again?

Also I just realized really late that Ribs was released three years after Mixology Certification aired but oh well, I love the song and I try meta-referencing my misstep in the fic lmao. Comment and feedback is well-appreciated! This is my first time writing Community fanfic and I hope I didn't screw up, especially with writing Abed. He's the best. They're all just the best, I love this show so much. Comments and feedback are appreciated! This whole thing is just wholesome romantic fluff with very light angst that gets resolved anyway, no trigger warnings! This made me so happy to write!

The Trobed artwork that inspired this: https://www.tumblr.com/greatredangel/751692320042287104/youre-the-only-one-who-understands?source=share

Ribs by Lorde (which I encourage you to listen while reading): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7pE8AG1jjE

My Trobed companion playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IgAlyGazQxVwHcmZyIdah

Someone stormed away.

That’s how it always happened.

Abed didn’t choose to have more interest in dissecting the implications of Farscape being an influence on the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the ragtag character dynamics of the crew of the Moya , or the suspicion that Greendale was headed in a similar direction to the fourth season which, frankly, he might have preferred to get interrupted before speaking about.

Not that he had a choice. One of the few people who understood his references was interested in something more…carnal. 

But Abed knew what he liked, what he thought, what he was good at. And being straightforward with it, absorbing and deconstructing every little detail? 

It was what passion was. At least for him.

The inner workings of bumbling off-duty patrons drowning their daily sorrows into looking to score, on the other hand? Not at all. 

He did see it coming. He was all but waiting for the rejection. But it was fun talking about Farscape .

While it lasted.

Nevertheless, it was Monday. And as expected, he was just fine. It was an odd night.

His thoughts turned to Troy. With the study group more amped up than usual due to the alcohol, he realized Troy got left alone due to the ensuing drama. 

Thus ruining his birthday.

“Hey, Troy?” 

Troy looked at him. Abed felt that rush of energy that always came whenever he did. “Yeah, Abed?” It was cliche, but the birthday surprise trope was still a classic. “There’s something I forgot to give you for your birthday. Happy belated birthday, by the way.”

A surprised smile lit up Troy’s face. “Really? This is too much, man. I’m still losing it over Kickpuncher.”

“I figured. With the abundance of alcohol in the study group, perhaps an easygoing, intimate night out on the town as Troy and Abed should make for a nicer birthday. Shall we?”

Troy clapped his hands. “Let’s roll.”

They did the handshake. Their handshake.

Abed was not a driver.

He legally was, but avoided it unless it was an occasion where he absolutely had, or even more rarely, wanted to.

This was one such occasion.  

“No way, is this the same bar?” Troy gaped slightly, moving forward in his seat as he recognized Flannahan’s Hole.

“The second chance trope is a bit stale, but a well-done redemption arc works wonders,” Abed confirmed as he parked the car.

Troy laughed as he and Abed got out and headed inside. It looked exactly the same as it did on Troy’s birthday: just like any other bar, albeit apparently the least offensive of them if Jeff and Britta’s word was anything to go by.

To Abed’s relief though, the man from earlier wasn’t there.

“Abed?” Troy asked. Abed immediately recognized his hesitating tone, and felt something akin to a pang in his heart.

“Troy?” Abed knew he talked quickly, but his response was a bit faster and more urgent than usual. If Troy was nervous or on edge, Abed might as well have ruined another birthday for him.

“I…don’t really want to drink,” Troy began, taking a breath and looking to the ground, gathering his thoughts. Then Troy locked eyes with him.

Momentarily, nothing existed except Troy.

“When I was ordering my drink, I…I saw how out of it everyone was, staring off into space, not able to feel much of anything, not able to do much of anything…we just didn’t look happy.” Troy’s tone was candid, kind, mournful, his usual cheerful energy replaced by a more careful, concerned tone. 

“So, I didn’t drink. I got everyone and drove us home.”

Abed remembered that as the other members of the study group were drowning figuratively or literally in their personal misery, Troy was the one to bring them back together. 

“Sorry,” Troy said with a bit of uncertainty, embarrassed when he shouldn’t have to feel bad because Abed reminded him of a day he had to hold everyone else together.

When Troy deserved one where the roles were reversed.

Abed swallowed. He wanted to say only the best possible words.

“Me neither, honestly,” he started. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s your birthday.”

Troy smiled, the previous moment forgotten. “Thanks, Abed.”

A new song started playing overhead in the bar. Abed squinted his eyes slightly. 

The drink you spilt all over me…

He undoubtedly knew movies better than music, but the song felt out of place for some reason. Was it a continuity error? He hadn’t heard it on the radio before. Weird. 

My mom and dad let me stay home…

“Do you want to dance?” Troy’s question shook Abed out of his thoughts, and he looked at Troy, calm yet eager about his suggestion. Abed couldn’t help but oblige, and the song piqued his interest the longer he listened to it.

”Sure.”

How you wish it would be all the time…

There wasn’t a whole lot of space within the bar, so Abed and Troy just moved close to a few empty seats. Unlike some of their choreographed or improvised dance routines which were occasionally elaborate, they kept it simple due to the nature of the event, and the difference this particular song had from their usual background music.

It drives you crazy getting old…

Abed was coolly and steadily hopping up and down, raising his left, then right leg to the beat. Troy took to clapping to the beat as he got into the song. 

Abed didn’t have many great memories as a kid.

This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets…

But right here, right now, dancing alone with Troy, he knew.

This. This was what childhood was supposed to be.

Doing whatever you felt like doing, not worrying about anything else, just having fun.

So what if he was only truly living it right now, as a film student in the most chaotic community college in the world?

He was living it. And for however long it would last?

It feels so scary, getting old....

He would enjoy it.

Abed hadn’t realized he had his eyes closed the whole time since he started dancing until he opened them to look straight at Troy.

Everything else went still.

Troy had a smile of pure ecstasy and euphoria and was moving completely of his own accord, not trying to impress, not having to try anything , just…dancing, and enjoying it.

We can talk it so good, we can make it so divine…

His hips swayed perfectly as he bounced to the beat, his knees smoothly kicking out as he bobbed up and down, not breaking a sweat. His head twisted from side to side, carefree and peaceful. He moved his elbows and hands up and down rhythmically with ease. And of course, that smile.

Has Abed seen Troy dance before? Many times.

But none so picturesque as this exact moment.

Then Troy opened his eyes. If things were still before, it wasn’t comparable to this.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

Troy’s eyes were a bit more serious, curious, and earnest. He stepped closer to Abed, still perfectly on beat.

How all the thoughts, how all the thoughts, moved ‘round our heads, moved ‘round our heads…

Abed was still slightly moving his legs to the beat, but he was focused on stepping as close as Troy saw fit.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

They kept moving closer. They didn’t notice the bar patrons staring.

It’s not enough to feel the lack, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em!

And their lips touched. Their eyes closed as they danced more slowly now, their arms now touching each other. Supporting each other.

He’d never let him fall.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

They just stayed there, now only slowly moving from side to side once every measure of the song, their grip on each other soft not to overwhelm, but steady, never to let the other go.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough… “YEAH!” yelled people in the background as applause and cheers were heard, the first time he had focused on the outside world in a bit. Abed rarely ever had applause and cheers for him, neither did he seek it, but in this specific moment, it invigorated him. It did the same for Troy, as they briefly removed their lips to take a breath before diving back in, emboldened.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

Troy and Abed released each other, parting with powerful, slow breaths. Troy was staring with him, those same earnest eyes, but with total adoration and awe.

Based on his expression, Abed knew he shared the equivalent facial expression.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough... “Good enough?” Abed asked Troy at the song’s end. Speaking to him was always comforting, but it felt like it had escalated to a whole new level now.

“Never better,” Troy answered in the most angelic, warmest tone Abed had ever heard.

They basked in the joy of the rest of the bar, all of them happy for them, for Troy and Abed. Troy laughed, equal parts blushing and grateful. Abed nodded at them in equally thankful acknowledgement. 

As they walked out, Abed caught the eye of the guy from earlier. He must have come in after them.

Compared to his more irritable, sour impression upon their first meeting, the bar guy was glad, sincere. He had a gentle, knowing smile. There were a variety of meanings he could derive from his face. First of all, he felt bad for his behavior during the last meeting. Secondly, he was happy for him and Abed. 

“Hey, I see you're going through stuff, and I'm sorry I didn't see that earlier,” the bar guy started a bit awkwardly. Then he seemed to be emboldened himself as well. “But I get it now, and I'm happy for you. For the both of you."

It was validating, to say the least. 

“Thank you,” Abed responded. “It was a better night.”

“I can see,” the bar guy giggled, looking at the two a bit sheepishly. “Okay, okay, we get it,” Troy was trying like mad to calm down, but he was clearly bashful.

As Abed drove the two away from the bar, they were quiet for a long time, processing the moment they just had.

Troy broke the silence first.

“Abed…is it okay if I want more moments like that?”

Abed had never felt so at peace in his life.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he said in a soft tone he didn’t even know he was capable of.

Troy beamed yet again, and initiated their running gag. Abed immediately caught on. “Troy and Abed to-ge-ther!”

[ohbo-ohno]

Hi Bo!! I hope you’re having a wonderful day so far 😊

I think I read on your blog that you were done writing for DLMLIYH, so if I’m right about that then please feel free to ignore this!

Just to start off, I fucking love that story. I absolutely love the way you write- it’s always such a treat when you post anything!

When I was rerererererere reading it, I just had a thought, and maybe I’m just a little stoned, but if I was in the readers situation, after the incident with Simon in the bathroom, I would have to ask if there was any possible way we could make this a little more pleasant, you know?

Hear me out: okay, you want to keep me as a pet, fine. I can’t fight my way out of here, obviously. But like, could we perhaps go to my apartment so I can get SOME of my stuff? Like any meds, comfort items, perhaps some clothes or at least my skin care junk?

Is there any universe where they’ll allow that to happen, if it’ll make the reader a little more cooperative? Okay love you bye❤️

hello!!! ily!

i've been finished writing dlmliyh since i marked it complete on ao3, but i'll probably always be more than happy to answer asks about it! i (like every person ever) love getting asks in general, so i truly truly do not care what they're about haha <3<3<3

if you scrolled to the bottom of my #dlmliyh tag (to like, a year ago lmao) i'm pretty sure i've answered this type of question before? but i dont mind talking about it again!

idk how ghoap would react to you outright asking smth like this, but they for sure want you as comfortable as possible

johnny is utterly obsessed with every aspect of you, and (outside of the bedroom) he'd probably be stressed if you even glanced at him without smiling. he's rubbing your feet, practically buying the entire catalogue of your favorite brands, and paying to have your favorite restaurants delivered. i'd say it only takes him two or three days to beg simon to watch you for a bit so he can go raid your apartment and bring damn near everything back

and shit, simon wants you happy to. for even the basic fact that it makes his life easier if you're not trying to escape once an hour & it calms johnny down, he also just doesn't particularly want to deal with a girl on the verge of a panic attack 24/7. that, and it gets the sadist inside him a little more when he can scare you/work you up a bit when you're trusting and comfortable <3

[bruhhhh-huhhhhh]

Coming to cash in that comfort fic my dude, mental health be failing me lol-

So I see you write for Security Breach? Mayhaps I get literally any animatronic (except perhaps maybe chica) comforting the reader after a difficult breakup?

I haven't requested anything from anyone in like a solid year I am rusty I am soooooo sorry

Bro felt

But don't worry about it, I gotchu

I don't really think I managed to stick with one character lmao

Also older sibling Vanessa supremacy

[e/n = ex's name]

Nap time

Even though you really didn't want to, you came into work on time. You and your partner had just broken up last night, so sleeping was pretty much out of the question. It had taken forever, but dawn finally broke, meaning you had to head to work at the Pizzaplex.

With lots of effort on your part, you got up and dressed in your uniform. Then, you got going to work.

Just stepping into the building drained even more of your energy. Today was checkup day for all of the animatronics, meaning that you had to go through and run diagnostics on everyone.

Freddy was first. He was his usual self, being very kind and cooperative. The only thing he needed was some oil for his chest hatch. He did notice that you were acting off, though.

"Superstar, are you alright?" Freddy asked as you finished up on the computer. You just stared at him for a second, not registering the question, before nodding your head. He seemed skeptical, but said, "Okay. Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me," before going to tell whoever was next that they could come in.

Monty didn't give you any issues, even though he usually hated getting his checkups. He had a few scratches that he had to get fixed, but other than that he was fine. When you finished, he patted your back, which was weird.

Roxy was perfect, as per usual, with nothing being wrong at all. She sat and talked to you the whole time, mostly about herself, but the chatter was nice anyways. It helped keep your mind off (e/n). Roxy gave you a high five and left.

Chica was the last out of the four, which was good because it meant you were almost done. Just the DJ and Sun and Moon. Same as Roxy, nothing was wrong.

The whole process had only taken about an hour, leaving you about 45 minutes before you had to see the DJ. You were hunched over your coffee mug in the break room when Vanessa came in. It was odd, considering she worked night shifts, but the thought didn't really register. You were starting to feel the effects of not sleeping the night prior. "Hey, y/n," Vanessa said as she walked to her locker.

"Hey."

"How's (e/n)?"

You paused, feeling tears starting to well up in your eyes. "We, uh. We broke up."

"Oh, shit. I mean, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring that up." Vanessa pauses for a second before adding, "They sucked anyways. You deserve better."

For a bit the two of you just stayed in silence, before she came over and sat next to you, bumping your shoulder playfully. "We could go get drinks after our shifts if you'd like. Nothing like making that bastard regret leaving you. I mean, who would want to break up with you? You're so amazing and pretty. They're just dumb, I swear."

That made you smile slightly. "Sure. Come find me in the daycare whenever you're ready. I'll be in there until my shifts done," you say, downing the rest of your coffee and standing up. Vanessa lets out a "Whoop!" and you leave, going to check on the DJ.

Everything was fine with him, leaving just Sun and Moon. They both were horrible with Maintenace, but they managed to be somewhat okay if you were the one doing it.

When you reached the daycare, Sun was pacing by the door nervously. "Y/n! We've been waiting! Why aren't there any kids? Did we do something wrong? Is the Daycare in trouble again?"

He was referencing the time that one of the kids got a little too close to the edge of a structure and fell off. Thankfully, Sun was there and caught him, but the parents filed for negligence on the Daycare's part and it had to be closed down for safety inspections.

"No, Sunny. It's maintenance day, remember? Vanessa should have told you," you say.

"She's banned from the Daycare! She kept saying swear words around the kids!" Sun exclaimed, his head spinning in frustration.

"Okay, Sunny. I forgot, I'm sorry. Would you please sit down so I can do some checks?" You asked, gesturing to one of the kid sized tables. His head stopped and he sat down. Maintenance went well, except that Sun kept asking why you seemed so upset and tired. You told him everything, including your lack of sleep, and he gasped dramatically.

"That's just horrible! Y/n, you should be napping! You need sleep! Moon is gonna be so upset with you!" Sun said. Suddenly, when you said that he was good to go, he jumped up and went over to the lights. turning them off.

Moon came back to where you were sitting. Since he and Sun shared a mind, he already knew everything. "Please just sit for maintenance, Moon," you begged, already knowing what he was going to do.

"Fuck maintenance," Moon said as he picked you up like you weighed nothing and started to take you up to his and Suns bedroom. You could tell that Sun was berating him in their head for swearing.

Their bedroom was messy, but still livable. The bed was covered in various Fazbear branded stuffed animals. Moon gently laid you down, making sure that your head was propped up on a faz-branded pillow. He ran around and grabbed various blankets and even a few snacks before he sat down on the floor next to you.

"Sleep," Moon says, taking one of your hands into both of his.

"Moon, really, I'm fine. I have to check you, not to mention I'm still on the clock," you said, trying to sit up.

Moon softly pushes you back down and says, "Don't care. Go to sleep."

You sighed and decided to get a little more comfortable. Moon talked about random things, ranging from your how stupid your ex is to things that the kids have done since you've been gone. You start to drift off when Moon starts playing a lullaby.

"Goodnight, Starshine."

[lady-harrowhark]

I’m more asking for confirmation than anything else since I don’t have a copy of htn or ntn I can check, but do we have any concrete evidence that John is still capable of performing full resurrections? Or were the original resurrections the kind of thing that were only possible in the aftermath of 10 billion deaths + 9 planets worth of thanergy being released (much like how harrow’s parents supposedly performed a type of resurrection in the aftermath of murdering 200 children)

I've been paging through, and I don't think we do have any concrete evidence... I also don't think we have any concrete not evidence though either...

I think most relevant to this question is this passage from when John is showing Harrow the 500 he's going to send to the Ninth:

No, I haven't truly resurrected anyone in ten thousand years. But at that time... I set many aside, for safety... and I've often felt bad about just keeping them as insurance. They've been asleep all this myriad, Harrow, and it's frankly a relief to my mind to wake them up.

So if we take this at face value (never a given with John), he resurrected them back ten thousand years ago, but will be waking them up now.

Which, of course, aligns with what he says in John 5:4 of NtN, "...resurrection is different from waking up."

That difference is something I've been mulling over since I first read it, and I don't have any great takes at the moment. It's definitely something I have flagged to keep an eye out for on my next reread though! I think your point about needing that massive amount of thanergy sounds very reasonable, especially compared to Harrow's conception, which he also refers to as a type of resurrection.

Also just as I was typing this I got curious and went back to the avulsion trial scene, where it says Gideon "died" and then pulls the "gotcha!" (except in hindsight it seems it was not a "gotcha!" at all lmao). Very interesting wording here, no?

"Ha-ha," said Gideon, "first time you didn't call me Griddle," and died. - Well, passed out. But it felt a hell of a lot like dying. Waking up had an air of resurrection, of having spent a winter as a dried-out shell and coming back to the world as a new green shoot. A new green shoot with problems.

So we've clearly got this resurrection vs waking up thing again, but I'm really curious about the comparison to the "green shoot," with green being so heavily associated with Alecto (e.g., Varun calls her "green-and-breathing thing"). And especially because it's used with this context of "A new green shoot with problems," because that particular turn of phrase sounds very much like Camilla's description of Nona getting dressed looking like a "worm with problems." (Is this anything? Am I reaching? Am I having fun while reaching?)

I'll also just throw in the verbiage around John saying he "switched [Alecto] off" as compared to, say, the NtN epigram poem's "sleep, I'll wake you in the morning" (and further: "Annabel, good morning.")

I feel like things are kind of coalescing around the difference between a true death and being brought back to life vs a sleep or suspended animation state in which one isn't actually dead, and therefore is simply waking up (I can't let myself go down this tangent right now but it does sound suspiciously like the whole cryo project... moving on!). It makes me wonder if it's not so much that John hasn't resurrected anyone in ten thousand years as much as it is that no one has truly died in ten thousand years for him to resurrect; therefore he can only wake them.

Which seems incompatible with necromancy at first, but is it? We know something's fucky with the River. Perhaps crossing the River (or whatever verb we want to use for that) constitutes a true death, and if something's stopped it up, the thanergy stays pooled up and accessible for necromantic purposes rather than crossing or being cycled back into the River or dispersed or whatever happens to it. A death magic dam, essentially. And if a soul can't finish its journey to a true death, he wouldn't be able to resurrect them, hmm.

I don't know how well that meshes with the 200 dead Ninth children, though, if that's also a resurrection, other than what Harrow says during the pool scene: "The infants alone generated enough thanergy to take out the entire planet. Babies always do - for some reason." The incomplete explanation is conspicuous here, but so is the reference to "taking out the entire planet", now that we know what we know. So that may actually track. (Is John's baby finger bone crown meant to be like... a tribute? Thank you for your service and all that? Yuck.)

Two more incomplete musings and then I really will stop! I've been harboring some thoughts about whether the Ninth (and specifically the Tomb) may have a more direct connection to the River (and the barathron specifically) than other locations do, and if that's the case, perhaps that's also at play in achieving a resurrection, whatever form that may take.

The other thing I'm thinking about here is the whole Alecto/Anastasia/tomb-keeper line situation. If the tomb-keeper line is carrying a bit of Alecto's soul, is this more of a direct, one-to-one passage down the line? Or, over the however many thousands of years since that vow, has it branched out from that central family tree and dispersed amongst the generations? What I'm getting at here is essentially, if many or all of the 200 Ninth children housed a bit of Alecto's soul, taking any/all of them out would be a small scale planetary death... which could account for why babies generate so much thanergy (again, the phrasing of "enough to take out the entire planet" seems significant). It feels reminiscent of the way Lyctors flip planets as well, turning them thanergetic... if killing a planet creates thanergy, could killing bits of a planet (and the children carrying them) create a necromancer?

I swear when I sat down to answer this, I only had the first two quotes in mind and then I just kept pulling at threads and ended up unraveling a whole sweater, so apologies from getting away from what you were asking. But thank you for providing some good food for thought!

[passthroughtime]

coming to your ask box to tell you that what you said about kuwana being protective of yagami is real and true actually. if kuwana weren't so busy trying to keep himself safe, he'd be doing more to try and keep yagami out of this (though he also desperately wants to be with him more). kuwana knows that yagami can handle a few scratches (and an explosion apparently, lmao) but he would take it very personally if anything ever happened to yagami ....i think. perhaps we're having shared delusions

thank you jichan, you're still the only one ever

yeah. though, he knew if he just went and disappeared without letting yagami know where he's going, it would kinda slow his process of getting into shit and endangering himself, even if for a bit. if kuwana actively and purposely involved him into everything, yagami would be in much more trouble i think. killing him was always an afterthought for RK, but if he'd be involved with kuwana more, well... it just paints a target on his back. and yagami wouldn't try to hide. he has ties to other people, he has something to lose.

so pushing yagami away and out of this all was a bit "two birds with one stone" kind of situation

though he also desperately wants to be with him more

yeah lol, i just realized that when kuwana gives him the pendant so he'd help ehara, he says that yagami is the only one he can trust with it, and like, really? you have lots of accomplices whose actions you can literally control, jeez, man xD

and of course kuwana suspected (or anticipated) that yagami would use this against ehara, so there's that also. but. his motivations are a mess, so we can be a little delusional about this as well i think

and an explosion apparently, lmao

explosion is nothing compared to all injuries yagami suffered in the end of JE, kuwana figured, he can survive a little explosion <3 it'd be good for him <3

but he would take it very personally if anything ever happened to yagami

no no, you're right. i mean, he does beat himself up over sawa, as well as mitsuru. he couldn't not feel responsible if this case would lead to yagami's demise as well. if anything, i can't say that kuwana doesn't care about other people. he even cares about his students even knowing that they despise him (i can't stop thinking about the fact that he agreed to meet with yagami so they'd release mamiya... it's not like he was afraid she'd spill everything, i mean, he tells yagami about a lot of things himself)

or maybe i really want to think that kuwana is a better person than he actually is. idk.

tbh i doubt my characterization of them a lot, hence all these disclaimers lol. and i really want to know other's opinions and why i can be wrong in how i view them? i mean, we are a small community. i can see people disagreeing with me, though in silence. but i want to discuss this, because i strive to see all sides of things, and i think it's fun to take their relationship apart again and again

i re-watch quite, uh. let's say, often the cutscenes featuring the two of them, and sometimes the moments where there's only mentions of them. i've started to write an "analysis" of each scene and their (presumed) reactions to their interactions, because it really does make things clearer in my head. i'm replaying the game rn, trying to see anything beyond my insanity lmao, but it's still just one view on things, you know? i really want to have a discussion and see where i can be wrong. and just... it'd be fun to listen other people talking about my favourite characters.

(is this approach insane? of course! but i'm having fun at the very least, and if i can have fun two years after i've finished LJ for the first time, well, i'll take it.)

when i say that i think about them a lot, i really mean it lol. (that's not my first rodeo, so business as usual for me.) but even if i strive to open-minded, and even if i re-visit canon again and again, it's hard to not be biased about lots of things.

and, yeah, i'm really glad to hear that you agree with me on this hc. but even if you, or anyone else, didn't, i'd want to hear all about it

[mahoushoujotechsupport]

Hey! What would you say your overall thoughts and out of 10 score for witch from Mercury are

Mine are that it’s an amazing show that needed like two more episodes in the finale to be fully perfect but overall 10/10

Despite all its shortcomings, of which there are more than I care to admit, I definitely still think of it as a 10/10 lmao

Like for sure I have a ton to complain about, but all my complaints are due to the show being too short. That might make people want to score it lower, but nah I think what it tried to do given the constraints placed on the staff gave us a wonderful story. It's really a shame Bandai clearly were expecting the show to do poorly lol

I haven't had so much fun speculating and reading people's theories than I have with Gwitch in a really really long time. Also it got me into gunpla which has been very zen for me (not to mention how much money Mr. Bandai has taken from me, it's kind of embarrassing)

But yeah, AGREED! 10/10 and it will for sure go down as one of my fav animes. Like I have not been able to shut up about it since last year at this point. Perhaps I should finally finish my rewatch that I've had pending for weeks now, I think the last ep I watched was the break up ep, I'll have to check my posts

[hibiscustea9]

Hi! Hope this finds you well and at an appropriate time. I wish I could send this anonymously because I'm quite shy, but there's no other way to attach GIFs. I know my username hardly rings a bell as it's different from my AO3 one. But I commented on Fire Walk With Me about a year ago expressing how much your writing has left a huge impression on me, and how I would've loved to make art of it. And you gave me the a-OK! :)) A year later's definitely overdue as hell, but I finally got around to finding you here.

Unfortunately, despite the multiple sketches I whipped up last year in an eager frenzy, I never got around to finishing them. Since then, a lot of things have happened and I've jumped in and out of various other fandoms, my artstyle has also drastically changed (and improved maybe), but I always come back to Stardew Valley as comfort media. These WIPs are now quite old, but I thought it's unfair to never let you see them after having specifically asked your permission to make them haha. Although it kinda saddens me that none of this art I'm giving you is finished, I want you to know that I enjoyed your quality and style of writing so much that I drew your Seb and Elliott. They are both so dear to me, and have grown to be even more so thanks to you! May these roughly-drawn, messy silly lil WIP timelapses be of some entertainment for you lmao :)) perhaps one day I'll actually manage to complete something for the Obsidian and Ruby pair.

Anyway, I will be slowly catching up to your more recent works here and there!

Have a really nice day!

This is such gorgeous work! I love seeing the process come together, and how you've captured their personalities in these little glimpses of them together. This makes my heart so happy to see, please don't feel like you have to apologize for any of this. Any sort of feedback on my work, especially something that you've clearly put so much time and effort into, is such an uplifting moment, and I'm incredibly grateful you put in the time on this and shared it with me - thank you again!

[jayteacups]

talking about random stuff yay

Okay so let's talk about literally anything other than that unhinged anon because they clearly crave attention and I genuinely cannot be arsed to deal with their nonsense anymore. Take your fandom wank elsewhere, you bellend 😂

Anyways. I have an idea for another piece for the 'It's A Wrap' Universe asdkflfjsa I'm excited to write it! I also would like to write something specific for Levi's birthday considering it's in less than a week (omg!) but considering I'm currently trying to finish my application to transfer unis before Christmas, that may not happen LOL. Maybe I'll get a little ficlet out, who knows.

Also, before I went on an unexpected hiatus in November, I was reading the AOT manga in the lead up to the finale - and I think I'm going to resume and finish my reread before watching the finale because I'm delulu and am prolonging the end of the anime adaptation 😂 I mean, the dub is dropping in January and the Bad Boy chapter comes out in spring, so there's still time, right?? 😅😂 After that I'll probably pick up Before the Fall as well and give that a whirl. I'll inevitably reread No Regrets and Lost Girls as well lol. I've been torn on whether or not I should pick up JJK too after S2, but perhaps I should spare myself the pain lol.

Next year I'm hoping to write more - maybe rewrite the first three chapters of The Harbinger's Premonition because I got writers block for it and haven't updated since last year (I am so sorry), that's a tentative maybe, though. I'd like to finish Love's Philosophy (a collection of ficlets based on a kisses prompt list) and crosspost that onto here, maybe start a similar project of a collection of ficlets based on another prompt list, because the prompts are so much fun, as a low stakes writing exercise. Alsooo we'll see if I can get any longer form Levi x Reader/OC projects off the ground next year because I have an OC one currently being planned ever so slowly and several vague ideas for Reader ones.

I've also been toying with the idea of writing Twenty Five Twenty One fanfic - specifically about Seungwan, because it's no secret that I'm incredibly disappointed at what the writers did to her in the ending and I'd love to do a fix-it fic for her. Some might hate the AOT ending but for me, Seungwan's ending is MY villain origin story LMAO. Not sure who else cares, but 😂🤷🏻‍♀️

[meerphanim]

My Art Summary of 2023, along with a Art Vs Artist of this year

Most of these I posted publicly on here except for July's; which is a practice drawing of textured colored images featuring Rin Kagamine.

The template of the art summary is by @/taxkha (it's actually for 2022 but I edited because. Yes)

[ Ramble under the Read More. ]

I think Tumblr is the only place I can freely talk, aside from Discord with friends.

Honestly? I feel this year I've been lacking as an artist.

I draw full pieces once or twice a month while I see others post more art than me, sometimes posting doodles they made in their free times.

My doodles are traditional. I prefer posting digitally, but I do want to doodle digitally more. But why does everytime I think "I'm gonna doodle this thing that'll be done in a couple minutes" and then I'll spend almost an hour on it??

My once or twice a month postings are what I'm ashamed about, honestly. I wish I could draw more after two or three days of finishing my previous work. Was it tiredness? Was it laziness? Was it executive dysfunction?

I do think there's fear. There's a linger of it as if I can't draw this artwork exactly like my mental vision. I never had this before. Why now suddenly? As well as practice to draw something new or something I have to master again?

I need to step back. I'm trying to stop comparing my work from other artists, it feels so relieving. Why compare myself to another person as I and them are two completely different people? With two different perspectives?

I did talked about my posting schedules comparing others just now. I am still working on this personal problem. Comparing art is one thing, but comparing another's success might be a whole nother fuckery.

Of course I do find inspiration from others. Though... I feel a lot of the artists I am inspired by are so... contrasting. I should compile my art inspos in a little folder lmao

I'm not sure about the "Reblogs > Likes" will stay though. Nowadays I feel I don't give a fuck anymore, I just wanna draw and post art. I saw that and go back frustrated at the number of likes and reblogs/shares lmaoooo; I'm working that though.

Perhaps an artist's way of thriving is to thrive with other artists. I am grateful of the friends I made in Discord servers, especially the OC server. It's also the same server I participated in am art telephone known as Tewephone. Again, I am very happy to participate with my friends ^^

On a much less important note, I need more OCs. I need more. My brain keeps giving me character ideas and I feel like making characters. I need more non-fan OCs though. But still. Need more OCs.

I am holding onto the hope I still contain in my heart. 2023 has been a ton of ups and downs (a lot of downs to be honest but whatever). I wish my friends, my family and everyone reading this a happy and hopeful 2024.

Happy New Years, everyone! 🎉🎊

[krakenshaped]

Nothing boring about having your projects clearly named! what is couch about tho? :0

Brjskhdkqjdna if I don't clearly name them I'll lose them cause I play a lot of dnd and have so many docs in my drive (too many I need to gut my Google docs so baaad)

Couch is about Manjoume going to therapy and lamenting being unemployed LMAO I wrote it at the beginning of this year and never really did finish it (I got a big chunk of one shots collecting dust like that)

I'll grab a snippet for the funny 👇

"Therapy was one of those necessary chores, you told yourself in an attempt to coerce yourself into going every two weeks. Kind of like cleaning your room or paying the gas bill or walking the dog. 

Jun doesn't have a dog. Nor does Jun pay his gas bill or clean his room or even clean himself regularly. He does go to therapy though. In some sort of strange, hopeful way that therapy will somehow fix his problems and give him meaning to his life, or… Something. At least it somewhat helped him stop thinking so much. 

Perhaps 5 years ago from now, he wouldn't have expected to see himself in this place. Y'know, he thought by 21 he'd be doing something important with himself. He'd be in the pro leagues, all sleek black suits and shiny cars, a name that people knew - no respected.

It would be plastered on billboards, on advertisements, on shining lights. Manjoume Thunder. Not just Manjoume, youngest of three or Jun, duel academy's second biggest crackpot but something more. 

Maybe he'd even have a girl by his side. 

Maybe that girl would Asuka.

But he's not in the pro leagues. He's not in a fancy car. He's not even in his bedroom back home - wherever home is.

He's on Tenjouin's couch. 

He's been on Tenjouin's couch for around a year now. The lead up to that was a rollercoaster ride. Turns out after the world almost ends multiple times and you literally die and are brainwashed into joining a cult all while studying for midterms, you don't have a lot of patience for your shitty fucking brothers - who are both pretty mad that you're back at their mansion and not a baby Seto Kaiba. But then, Manjoume remembered, hey, I'm not 15 years old, I can defend myself now, and honestly, he could only last a couple of months having to butt heads with his brothers over any and every miniscule issue.

God forbid he breathe without somehow getting paid for it. Those assholes thought he was some sort of living cookie clicker for shitty card games.

So he did what most young adults with a brain do when their shitty, rich, totally not abusive brothers slash guardians are completely unbearable to live with. He stole Chosaku's credit card, took all available money out the account and used it until it was frozen. 

Which was totally fine. For like. A year. All he needed was enough money to survive on until he could get a job and start living for himself. Easy. Right? If everyone else can do it surely he can. I mean. How bad can it be? He just needs to pay for his rent right?

Ah, but. He also needs to feed himself.

Hmm… He also needs utilities to make that food. Not to mention to pay for aircon, I mean it's pretty fucking hot in the Kanto summers. You expect him to not have ac? He's also gonna need a computer to type up his job applications… and then an internet connection to submit those job applications… 

Internet is how much a month…?

You have to pay what for a TV license???

At least he lasted the year.

Which to be honest. Is more than he initially thought after he crunched the numbers. He doubts anyone else would be able to survive in these conditions. If there's one thing Osiris dorms taught him is that you can survive anywhere in this world with wits quick enough and your brothers credit card. However that didn't really last forever. Jun didn't think there was anything more difficult than finding an affordable living that doesn't compromise his luxurious taste, until he realised he has to convince people he's worth employing.

People ask for so much. He had no idea that the assholes that run the workplace could be so demanding. They want you to be qualified but apparently the ever-so-lofty PhD in dueling isn't a valid qualification and even if it was they also want you to have experience - the places that don't need experience want you to be young so they don't have to pay you a full wage and to top it off you have to answer every question correctly. That includes the small talk. Don't forget, they also want you to be able to drive because how else are you supposed to be here at 6 and finish at 9 when the first bus in the morning is at 5.59, and forget it altogether if you have anything else going on in your life, because even the most flexible of jobs will knock you back if you have additional commitments.

And so it took him back to Tenjoin. Because who else in this world is his backbone if not Tenjouin Fubuki? Who else will swaddle him in linen cloth and hold him to his bosom like the holy child if not Tenjouin Fubuki? His guiding light. The brother he never had. The harbinger of all knowledge and wisdom this world had to offer- 

"I'm glad you have a support system that's so reliable, Manjoume-san, however if we can loop back to the topic? We were talking about the Society of Light."

"Oh. Right."

[kaatiba]

@angelicxi replied to your post and said:

it's the executive function baby, there's nothing wrong with you. it's not a moral failure it's not laziness it's not a fault of character. i struggle to finish anything longform, even fanfiction. it's what it is. perhaps with time and therapy it'll get better but in the meantime don't drag yourself over hot coals about it. and honestlyyy...length is irrelevant lmao

like to be completely honest and perhaps a bitch. 500k words per work sounds impressive but is it good? i've seen so many big name fans and big name works in fandom that suck complete fucking ass despite being over-praised. the book market is Saturated with shitty works, many of them in the 200-350 page range. absolute waste of trees. quantity does not reflect quality and personally I sneer at people who feel superior because they can "write fast". like sure you bang out 10k in a day wow good for you. but if it's all trash does it matter? methinks not <3 i've said it before and i'll say it all my life. everyone can "write". everyone is, technically speaking, capable of picking up a pen, of typing up a document, everyone can learn this skill. everyone can learn to write what appears to be a coherent document. but not everyone can Write, capital W. just because a "story" flows legibly and seems to hit the 'right' narrative beats...that does not make it literature or give it any worth. not everyone has interesting ideas and, more crucially, not everyone is capable of investing those ideas with soul, which is ultimately what makes or breaks literature, imo. a story's got to have soul. you have to care about that world and especially about the people that live in it. ideas are dead, people are alive. and i'd rather take my time even if that means years to write out a small number of good words than bang out a novel in a week that ultimately doesn't say shit. :] (also i know it's unavoidable, being frustrated, comparing yourself etc. i do this too from time to time but i quickly slap myself out of it w this exact line of thinking. i'm just not stephen king or terry pratchett—i can't write high volume + high quality and i just have to live w that.) (and in the spirit of comparisons: tolkien only started putting LOTR down properly in his mid forties. george martin might fucking die before we get to know how ASOIAF ends. it doesn't matter. that is simply how time and circumstance aligned to produce some of the most enduring works of fantasy. and these are just two big name examples.)

lastly, and this might perhaps sound a little harsh...the crux of the issue seems to be this feeling that you are "disappointing". that you are "not living up to [your] potential." why? why are you writing to be praised? that is not sustainable. get rid of the audience in your mind. imagining yourself as a popular author is fun and tempting, but when you write, when you conceptualize especially... get rid of the imaginary audience in your mind. don't write thinking of the twitter reaction. don't write to please. don't write with a predetermined social goal, neither. in the long run all that does is trip you up. hnjghjg and I know I sound especially preachy with this but I am truly saying it w all my love. get rid of the audience. write what you think is fun to write, not for merit, but for the sheer fun of it. starting out w something like "oh i want to do my Duty and provide representation..." or "oh, I should write THIS kind of story, this is what We need"—what duty? who is we? it's a self-absorbed line of thought that will trip you up because the hand of that invisible audience is in there. just like thinking "oh i'm so disappointing, such a failure" ultimately also has the traces of that invisible audience, the same self-absorption, if a negative one.

i definitely needed to hear this! it is the executive dysfunction, you're right, and i'm gonna explore options to help me handle it! i just don't think i can fight against it on my own anymore lol. and you're right! a lot of words =/= good writing (i.e. writing i'm pleased with and that conveys what i want it to and connects with the reader). and i think (as much as i hate this term) that 'radical acceptance' is the key to just...feeling better and writing better. accept that i am not terry pratchett or steven king, i cant write well at volume rn, and that's ok. that the way i write is ok. even more, the way i don't write is ok lol.

"why are you writing to be praised?" why AM i writing to be praised??? hard to hear but v correct! this is a problem i have with most things i do: an all too consuming desire to be liked and lauded etc. i know my own worth and that should be enough for me. hopefully it will be! not preachy at all, it's exactly what i need to internalize.

and i love your point about comparison lol. maybe i just need to live longer to create the kind of works i want to create. thank you so much for this leah <3

[jiubilant]

@wispstalk tagged me to share some lines from my posted pieces! plus some exclusive commentary. thanks ray and kudos for making it up the sisyphean hill of filling out yours entirely on your phone

tagging @zurin @ghoulsbeard @morihaus if you want :)

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

“Ravila,” says Tolfdir wearily, “when we cast a spell, we do not precede it with the words hold and my and drink.” [x]

plus the later "lettie, he's drinking my schnapps." lmao. i enjoy writing ravi the most when he's happily going along with something that makes him look silly

A line from your fic that makes you sad

Then he looks at the Dragonborn—whose name, he thinks with sudden shame, he hasn’t asked. She’s not looking at him. She’s staring out at the empty air, the white and whirling wind, with a shadow struggling in her face. “I’d like to live a thousand years,” she admits. Then she touches her scarred arm and smiles at him, sunlit and serene, like a statue of herself. [x]

ayo's got a lot on her mind :(

A line from your fic you’re proud of

The ground of Apocrypha, spongy and stinking of mold, is the mulch of a thousand libraries: rotting parchment, pages sodden and trodden to peat. The Dragonborn, her throat raw with the thu’um, squelches through it. She steps over the bloated carcass of a book. [x]

apocrypha's got to be just disgusting. slurping slurry of stolen knowledge-goop underfoot

A line from your fic you think could have been better

“You’ll like Solitude,” says the woman every pickpocket in Plankside calls Auntie. She’s stirring this and that into a steaming stovetop stew, pausing every so often to towel her brow with the hem of her apron. “And my brother. Though he’ll not long let you at your usual tricks, mark me.” [x]

"stovetop" has haunted me for years. what the hell was i talking about. the year is 189 and everyone's cooking over their hearthfire

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

You could split your lip on Lenhardt Müller, whether you were careful or not.

had to go into my wips for this one...no one get excited about me cheating on tes with other video games because i don't think i'll finish this piece. it was going to be about else's post-credits affair with [PARCHMENT-SCRAPING NOISES]

A line from your fic that makes you go ‘aww’

“Don’t say it.” Aina frowns at him. “It’s you.” The furrier grimaces at that—and his wife laughs, surprising him, the sound raspy and warm as the hearthfire crackling inside. “You,” she says again, suddenly serious, and kneels to throw her cloak around his shoulders. Their noses touch. The lantern winks at their knees, mingling their shadows in the snow. “Always you, to me.” [x]

i've got to write more about these two

A line from your fic that’s full of symbolism

“You’ll not like it,” she says to the boy, because she’d better say something reassuring. He looks like he knows what a slice of apple means. She digs her claws—all she’s got—into the fruit. “Not with a sword. Not with a bow. Not with your teeth.” She wrenches the apple in half. It’s a mangled mess, now, bleeding juice all over her hands. “But it needs doing. Name like that—you’re a shepherd’s son, en’t you?” Jorik, she notes, is turning greenish again. Alas. “Aye—” The footsoldier, still busy with the apple, forestalls him with a claw. Then she holds out a dripping slice of fruit, scored all over, despite her best efforts, with oozy scars. [x]

all she's got :(

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

They rein their horses aside to let the cohort pass. A soldier near the head of the line—a Tojay standard-bearer, perhaps their age, with an open, clever face—casts a curious glance back at them as her fellows, fresh-faced and bright-mailed, nudge her in the opposite direction. [x]

surely we've never met that young footsoldier before

A line from your fic that’s shocking

“Well, now, cat,” he says, the thu’um rumbling like a rockslide in his voice. There’s grief and fire in his face. Almost gently, as if to ask the soldier for a dance, he walks to her across the darkening hall. “Do you think your sword will send me hence?” The soldier shrinks from him. Then, her eyes baleful as the moons, she bares a mouthful of red teeth. “Not my sword,” she says, and leaps like fire to meet him. [x]

like any soldier shurri uses every weapon at her disposal during the war. something sad and complicated to be said about what her preferred nickname ("shiv") says about how she sees herself

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

“Is that his name?” asks the Archmage. “Quaranir. Quaranir. What’s that old Colovy song?” To Nerien’s dismay, he grins, lifts his chin like a primadonna, and starts singing in a high, frail tenor. “Ah, il tempo si ferma quando sono con te—” Nerien tries not to look pained. “Archmage—” “Il tempo si ferma, e penso, povero me—” [x]

"time stops when i'm with you"…i was and am happy that this joke passed muster with my italian followers. i don't speak the language well anymore but i'd like to get back in the swing of it; i have family in messina that i'd like to meet in-person someday

[mars-mystic]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @crimsonicarus tyyyyy <33333

How many works do you have on ao3

23 as of today. Tomorrow, who knows? Perhaps 24. I have 5 on ff.net too :P

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

154,239

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently only f1. But the full list includes (but is not limited to): Critical Role, Our Flag Means Death, Star Trek, Percy Jackson, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Lord of the Rings, Macbeth, etc

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ongoing Speculation - Critical Role

Diplomatically Inclined - Star Trek

Unspoken Love - Critical Role

Keep a Close Watch - Critical Role

Take my Hand (Take my whole life too) - Our Flag Means Death

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. I love yapping about my fics, and where better to do it than the comments. I'm liable to say too much in the comments, because I'll just say anything. I think it's polite to reply when someone has gone through the effort of engaging in conversation by commenting (I also fall immediately in love with you. so there's also that)

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

Bold of you to suggest I've ever ended a fic. I also have... 4 fics tagged Hurt No Comfort. But I'd say The Mourning After is the angstiest. Of the complete ones. But maybe also just in general.

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

Perhaps Unspoken Love. It has a very cute not friends not dating but more vibe to it. Very QPR. Who doesn't love a good Wizard date not date? Aeor is for Lovers, after all.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no hate comments but sometimes I think my readers hate me for what I put them through <3

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

nothing that ao3 knows about... yet...

what kind? ummm.... fucked up? Awful? its me, what else is new?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

hell yes. My first fic was a crossover, gotta stay true to myself. The craziest one I've written. well. it doesn't exist on the internet. but it features Hamlet/Robert Ross (from the World War One novel The Wars) as well as Ahsoka Tano/Darth Maul/Din Djarin (The Mandalorian). That or the Formula One Hamlet AU I partially wrote (and never posted).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

lmao, doubt it

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

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

not really. but if you yap at me about a fic concept there's about a 95% chance I'll write it for you.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Shadowgast got me through the pandemmy and I adore them with my whole heart. But also. Glance Nation. I couldn't live without you. <3

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

all of them I really wanted to finish The Shadow of You, had it all planned out and everything. But then first year uni happened and I just never came back to it :/. I WILL finish my current WIPS. Manifesting for myself.

16. What are your writing strengths?

umm... angst?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Emotional consistency. I always overcomplicate things to the nth degree and then get stuck trying to figure out what everyone is thinking. It's a disease but I won't stop doing it.

Also plain romance. I just get bored lmao. There's a reason my fluffy things are all a little weird. That or they're just crack treated seriously. I have no middle ground.

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

if it's a language I speak then it's good, if I don't speak it then it's bad, hope that makes sense :)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

If we're being all the way honest it was Octonauts when I was 8 before I even knew what the concept of fanfiction was. That one is lost to time and probably also the recycling bin I'm afraid.

If we're talking fic I wrote knowing what fic is it was a most definitely Clone Wars fanfic, none of it published. The first one I published was a Clone Wars/Percy Jackson crossover. A New Camper on ff.net. Go read it if you wanna see what 13 year old me was up to :)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

those are my children. you can't make me pick. i love them all in different ways

But Blackout my beloved... I love you so much. Kissing you on the lips. I know I've been an absent mother but I'll be back for you I swear.

wow this really turned into me writing my own expose. if you want a full tour of my ao3 you're on your own tho bc I can't remember a single thing I wrote during the pandemic. this was fun tho. a real mixed bag going on over here on my ao3

No idea who's been tagged, so if you want to: @weegreenbean @pitconfirm @autumn816 and anyone else who would like to. Tell me about your rich and varied pasts

[thisheademptyyeet]

🫵YOU. Tell me about your furry ocs neow

Oh boi, bet. cracks knuckles

I had like two sets of ocs but since I know which ones sparked curiosity on you, I'll talk about the second set, perhaps I'll talk about the first one soon.

Anyways to give some context, when I was like 15/16 years old (beware of the cringe), I had like a project that I wanted to do after I gave up from the first one. The project was a comic called "Blood Moon".

I never got finish it and I don't have any pages because I wanted to have the story all figured out before starting.

The "story" was about an universe were anthropomorphic animals and humans exist together, the humans (as always) are pieces of shit and didn't liked the furries so there was wars, slavery, torture and shit.

At some point it all ended and they live in 'harmony', except that some people still tortured and slaved the furries illegally. Now we have to know about how there's furries both in the city and in the forest, in the city they all live with the humans, have jobs etc.

In the forest there's villages and they're all of single species, like, bears only, wolves only, lmao.

The main focus is a village of wolves, in which Ares and his wife Star are the leaders of said village.

And they had a baby called Luna, a small wolf cub. So cute :[.

Also there will be some design changes through the post since I don't have much drawings to illustrate them. I will point out everytime a different design appears.

Anyways, shit goes down when a group of humans invaded the village and commited genocide and stole cubs, including Luna. They took her to a hidden cabin in which they tortured and sell furries as slaves. (I'm starting to realize how edgy and fucked up this story is, what the fuck... anyways.)

Luna ends up being sold for a man and he "raises" her as some guard dog in which he uses to intimidate and kill people who owe money for him. She grows up and yada yada yada, until one day he tested her limits and she ripped his head off :].

Now, she's a huge ass 1,93 cm tall buff wolf with no one to control her ass (this is why you never mistreat your puppies, they might kick your ass sooner or later/hj).

At some point of the story she runs off to the forest and oh my god what an inconvenience, she found an wolf village! And what another great inconvenience, she also found her parents!!! :0

I forgot to mention but they didn't died in the genocide, they managed to escape and runned off to another area to live, so yeah, these bitches are alive.

And they now have four more kids that they didn't lose, I could explain how they found out that they're all really related since Luna is a lost child, how she reacts about her parents having other kids after she got kidnapped and other stuff about the lore. But honestly, this post is way too long and I dislike this story so I can't stand writing more shit about it LMFAO.

Tho I will say that I erased all of this bullshit and now they all live normally, no more drama. They're happy now and live in a farm.

Also have some memes: