#the version of writers block where you can write but only new things

[shae-pine]

I keep making more somebody help(but like if you wanted to ask questions about them that’s cool too)

[shaisuki]

DADDY'S HOME

FT. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, GETO SUGURU

content warnings: yandere themes, past mentions of abuse, noncon, baby trapping, dubcon, manipulation, stalking, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, ooc characters, crying, redemption arc?, murder, abuse, rushed writing. dead dove do not eat.

notes. my first post in april. been struggling for awhile and having writer's block plus having the new addition of two chunky puppies that looks like potatoes with legs. requests are slowly being worked on and i deeply apologize for the delay. thank you!

synopsis: long they searched for you and only to find out you have a child. their child. would they be still the same person who had hurt you or a changed man for the sake of your child?

GOJO SATORU

“where's your mom, little guy?”

there is no doubt about it. the child in front of him is his. it is like looking at the younger version of himself except for the hair, dyed black to conceal the snow-white hair identical to him. how fast can he come up with the conclusion that the child is his?

gojo was careful of the past hookups he got tangled with. there's no way he will knock some random stranger and be forced to take responsibility for a child he didn't want. there is only one person he did get pregnant, you.

his wife who escaped left him a few years ago with his unborn child growing inside your belly. funny how all those escape attempts you'd done in the past, you only succeeded once and that is when you're pregnant and then after that you disappeared like you didn't exist in his life but gojo isn't that willing to let you go. he will find you. there's no force or power in this life that can stop in him and only fate to intervene and guide him to you which leaves him in this current situation.

the sun begins to set and the clouds turned into a mix of oranges and red. the swing makes a creaking sound as it sways back and forth along with chains clanging with every move. resonating into the emptiness of the park and his son only ignores him. barely glancing at him while staring at the distance. waiting. waiting for his mother. waiting for his wife to pick him up.

gojo chuckles at the cold treatment his son have been giving him. hadn't been the most affectionate person just like when he's at that age. unforgiving and arrogant. he looked at the ground beneath him. a brief memory flashes by before looking at his son again. leaving the swing at a flash and sprinting towards someone. he follows the little boy and gojo smirks. fate do favor him.

“mama!” your little boy called to you. almost jumping in your arms and you fumbled a bit. balancing the plastic bags in your hold to pick up your son. threading his hair with your fingers and kissing his forehead like you always do.

“satoshi! sorry for making you wait. mama had errands to do. how are you?” in which your son looks at you with a huge grin in his face. making you smile in return and he whips his head to look at the swings and you followed his sight. there he is, your nightmare. the reason you have your son.

the temperature drops with every second as the wind blows stronger. you hugged your son tighter to you. your body freezing with your mind telling you to run and with a deep breath. you squeezed your son before taking a step backwards and turning around. never looking back.

he watched as his son went to you and you picking him up and you realizing that he's near you. just within arm's reach and that fear coming from you. good to know he still have a hold on you.

calm down! you tell to yourself while you carried satoshi away from that man. you know you can't hide from him forever. you will just run again. no matter how many times. you did it once — what's the difference of doing it again.

you write a mental note to yourself to pack your bags after this. you're not going back again to him, not with your child. you don't want him to go through the same things he put you through. he was already dead to your son and to you and he's merely a ghost who terrorizes you. when you got home, you made sure to lock all your doors before making dinner and tucking your son to bed and then you grab the bags.

after packing up the last necessities, you slowly trudged your way up to your son's room and your heart drops when you see him looming besides your son's sleeping figure.

“quite bold of you.” he began to speak and your lips tremble. he didn't face you and kept looking at his son. your face bereave with anger. “s—” the words die out before he interrupted you.

“going as far to dye my boy's hair. almost thought he's not mine and thinking you found yourself another man to take care of you. breaks my heart to kill him and take you.” caressing his son's hair. satoshi remained asleep despite the scene unfolding.

“satoshi doesn't need someone like you. we don't need you. stay away from him. from us.” you murmured. careful not to wake satoshi up and find his father. you don't need someone like gojo to be around satoshi.

“can't i?” said satoru. slowly standing up and making his way to you. “cause the last thing i remember, you were still mrs. gojo. pregnant with my baby.” you let out a silent yelp when he suddenly hugged you.

“let go.” you firmly warned him. squirming from his grasp but he only held you tighter. “i won't. now you're here with me. you don't know how much i have missed you.” he breathes out. his hand in the back of your head until it slowly descends on your back. squeezing the dips of your hips and you silently gasp. trying to keep the tears at bay. his nose in the pulse of your neck. breathing in your scent. “you won't deny me.” he whispers and before he could fully go down in you. he hears the bed creak, followed by someone shifting and a sniffle coming from his son. his hold got loose on you and with that, you pushed him off. joining his son in his bed to comfort him.

satoshi sniffles, his eyes fluttering and showing the blues that he inherited from his father. “mama?” he calls you and you immediately shush him. “mama's here, satoshi.” you coo. pulling the covers and tucking it beside you and satoshi latched into you. his eyes beading with tears. “it's just a nightmare, satoshi. nothing's going to hurt you.” you lied. there's only one who could hurt you both. the man who put you in hell for his own. he can do that to satoshi too and you won't let him.

although gojo had longed and wanted to take you there at the moment, he let you tend to his son. set aside the urges of longing for you who left him. a discovery he just had found hours ago. he's a father now. his back presses at the cold wall behind him and he melts at the tender moment before him. this is what you had been doing for the last five years and is it that long. five years. five years had gone by and he missed it. he wasn't there to take care for you and watch his child grow up. you stole the years and the moments where he could be with you and his son.

there's the gnawing feeling that eats him inside. the betrayal simmering in his chest the day you left him, days after he received the news that you were carrying his heir. it feels like an eternity after that.

when satoshi finally settled and you can hear the tiny snores coming from him. you slowly removed yourself from his side. it took awhile to pry his hands clutching your top before replacing it with a pillow. you kiss him in the forehead and it's finally to face him.

you're beneath him. his head hung low while he stares deeply at your eyes. both of your hands are pinned beside you. he glances at your bedside table. littered with pictures of you and satoshi. it makes his heart bleed to see him absent from all of it. he wasn't even there to see satoshi as a baby, taking his first step and see him grow to what he is now. it's all because you choose to leave him.

“you raised satoshi well.”

“i did. i'm not raising satoshi with you around.”

gojo hums, “oh, really? he didn't ask who might be his father is?” quite curious about it and he knows what you're about to answer and you didn't disappoint.

“i did. told his father was dead because you don't exist to us. to satoshi. why bother with us who don't want you?” you bravely stared back at his eyes and you thought this is going to be satoshi when he grows up to be satoru's age.

“i am bothered with it. my wife leaving me out of the blue with my child inside you. i told you, didn't i? i will always find you.”

you take a deep breath to keep the tears from spilling out of you. “five years. five years, satoru. you should have moved on. find another woman who can give what you want.”

“they can't if they are not you. why would I want myself another one when i know my wife and child are alive. how could you be so cruel to me, (y/n). you're my one and only.” gojo holds your cheek in his one hand while his eyes roam to your face and then landing in your lips.

he's been dying to kiss you for a long time and he can do it again. it feels like the first time he had kissed you. soft. gentle and sweet. it hurt him a bit to see you bite your lips with your eyes closed but he didn't care. he knows this was also the same way you reacted when you both created satoshi.

a familiar warmth creep up on him. his once cold heart melting at the contact of your lips against his. heart thrumming in slow beats. shallow breaths fans your skin and he gazes at you, with the same adoration present in the blues of his eyes.

“leave, satoru.” you protested but gojo ignores it. “no, i won't. you're stuck with me.” you cry softly when he kisses you again. hands wandering all over your body and whispering filth of how he missed your body.

“satoshi's sleeping next room.” he shushes you. “i know, that's why we have to keep quiet. you sure can manage that, mochi?” he didn't change with his nicknames and you were left weak and hopeless against his touches.

that night he ravaged you. marking the expanse of your skin. praising how you were still his wife and you never changed. the plushness of your body and just everything about you. motherhood is kind to you. he says. your body is made for him, nurturing his child and you freeze when he talks about putting one on you again. saying that he will give the next his all love with you present and you will both take care of satoshi and his sibling. you were terrified. tasting freedom once and he's back on you again to take it. escaping will be harder and you don't think it'll allow you with again.

in a blink of an eye, you were in your own prison again. you find yourself staring at the familiar garden and you think five years will change it. he kept it the same as the last when you left with promises that you will both be watching as your children played.

satoshi's hair had gone to its natural color. he's the spitting image of his father much to his delight but his child remained wary of him. even he's staring at the older image of him. he remained by your side.

“will i have a baby brother, mama?” he asks you while you were resting. “i don't know, satoshi. do you want a baby brother?” caressing your swollen belly and you fought the tears. satoshi noticing the tears pooling in your eyes, instantly expresses his concern. “no...no. mama is just a bit tired, satoshi. don't you worry about it, okay?” you assure him. “is it the baby?” you nodded at his question. he pouts at your answer. “then i don't want a baby brother.... or a sister!” he exclaims before jumping to hug you.

“satoshi, don't be mean to your baby brother or sister.” your husband pulls satoshi from you. “i hate who makes mama cry.” gojo chuckles at him. “me too, satoshi. let's protect your mama, shall we?” he embraces your son. satoshi nods, and you die a little inside.

you will spend the next years playing house with him with a new addition to this family. you still can't accept this. his words haunts you and you just can't.

gojo caresses your belly. looking at you with a smile on his face. “can't wait for this little one to arrive.” he says to you and you crack a smile at him. the thought of escape no longer lingers in your mind. not that you can think when you have a child with him and one coming.

NANAMI KENTO

nanami didn't take you leaving him to be so distressing. his life revolving around you and a baby on the way. it's going to be complete. a life with you and it took one night for you to leave him without a trace and so he goes back to working overtime.

the first days were grueling. searching for everywhere. going as far in finding information with your relatives who had given up on finding you. there's no sign of you. he spent the days and night thinking about you. worried about how you're doing without him. what about the baby? if the baby was to survive and reach the age of consciousness will his child think of him? the thoughts are endless and he don't think he can live another day without you.

the fluorescent lights are too bright for his eyes that has been drowned by the darkness of his room. his headaches becoming unbearable as the minute passes by and the stench of the hospital adding to his already dulled senses. cheeks hollowed with his sunken eyes. dragging his step to move forward. he shouldn't be here but if he wants to continue his job, a prescription would be nice from a professional.

after a scolding from the older doctor, balding with a pot belly. yapping about his health while he wrote his prescription. consisting of vitamins and stuff he didn't bother to read cause he will only give it to the pharmacist and continue his own source of living.

he was nearing the exit when a particular sign caught his sight. pediatric & maternity ward. he stops for a moment. wondering if you were here and he's accompanying you to get the first check up of your pregnancy and then an appointment for your ultrasound. hear the first heartbeat of his child and know the due date of you giving birth.

it's almost a year since you left him and he was to blame. nanami knows it was wrong to keep you for himself. telling that the outside world is dangerous for someone like you and he's facing the consequences of hurting you.

you must have given birth at this day and the baby must be four-months old. his heart grows heavy the more he thinks of you and his child. he began to walk away, the ward giving him pain and the regrets showing up. before he could step outside the doors from the ward opens and he hears a voice that he misses dearly.

when he turned around, he had to rubbed his eyes to ensure his vision wasn't playing him. there you stood, a nurse assisting you and talking on what he can assume as good wishes to you.

his breath hitches and when the nurse bid you farewell before going back to her duties. you smile back at the nurse and your attention is back in your baby. adjusting the blanket to provide warmth for the infant and when you were contented from it, you raised you head to look at your way. beginning to walk and you notice him.

you stopped when you recognize him. out of all the places to meet him, a hospital it is. worst is — you have your baby with you. hesitating to move forward or turn around and look for a another exit but it's him. it's nanami. you couldn't forget him and his ways of making you feel trapped.

what feels like an eternity and standing like a statue you continued to walk. abandoning the fear of being under him again. you could just ignore him and go home and so you did.

it hurts so much to let you go and he didn't have the strength to confront you. knowing that you'll run again and he don't want to scare you and make things worst. it pains him and yet, he was at peace. a heavy weight being lifted from his chest and he thinks he can breath properly again.

it took him awhile to get back in his daily routine when you were still around. he'd gotten better. there's no longer the dark lines under his eyes and he seems productive nowadays. he knows you won't take him back and he can't do that again to you. he won't give you a reason to loathe him again — not when his child is present in both of your lives.

he got your address effortlessly and now, he's standing in front of your door. holding a bouquet of flowers and he's adjusting his tie before knocking in your front door. he hears the shuffle of feet and the lock clicking. revealing yourself in front of him.

in a span of a year, you slowly managed to get back on your feet. body aching while you wash yourself clean and heal the wounds you inflicted in yourself while you were in his captivity. you needed to change — if you were going to bring this baby in the world. a brand new start for yourself.

when you met him that day at the hospital with his child cradled in your arms. it won't be too long for him to get you back and you feared for the safety of your child. you know nanami isn't that heartless but considering how could he be selfish at times — you knew what fate would await for your daughter.

not until he came knocking at your door. you weren't prepared for it and you did what only you can do — shut the door. it didn't happen, his arm blocking the door. “please, darling. let me explain.” he pleaded and it kinds of break your heart to hear him pleading but you're too hurt to give in. “leave us alone, kento.” you say to him but he's persistent.

he won't be leaving anytime soon, you think and maybe he'll force his way and escalate into something that can harm you or your child and you give in. you pull the door open and nanami sighs in relief when you opened the door for him.

“what do you want?” you bite your tongue when you said it. he didn't need to answer, you know what he wants.

“can we talk?” although he's a little worried about how you will react about it considering his past mistakes and he knows you're not going to open up at him anytime soon.

he didn't missed the change in your attitude. what hostility forming into you change into something of a hesitation. chewing into your lips as you decide whether you were ready to talk to him until you nodded. granting him to explain what he was about to say to you.

“come inside.” you softly mutter as you turned your back around him.

the full force of his regrets came crashing down at him from how the way you treat him. a reflection of how he badly treated you from shielding you against the world when it was him who was truly hurting you.

“so...” you started to speak at him. “what brings you here?” why are you this!? you thought to yourself. screaming internally at the the questions you were asking to him. how come you are this weak when it comes to this. you needed to be strong. prepare for the worst.

“you. i came here for you and for the baby. forgive me, darling but is the baby mine?”

you flinch when he questioned your baby's parentage and the bottled up feelings you were suppressing instantly bursting into the scene.

“is the baby yours?...” your words drawl out. “is the baby yours!? i didn't know that you could be this stupid, kento?! you kept me chained for years and knocked me up with your baby and you question me about her! how could you....?” so much for suppressing the feelings you couldn't say to him for a long time.

a wave of regret washes over him and you were right. he is stupid. you were crying because of him again. you were shaking like a leaf while tears continuously flowing out from your eyes. your sobs are muffled and tears are soaking his shirt. his chin resting in the top of your head while he held you close. he wishes he could take your pain. redeem himself from his old ways of treating you bad.

“you come here telling me you want me back and you want to be a part of her life.....” days. nights. you were thinking of him despite what he had done to you. “i told you, i didn't want her. didn't want a child for me to raise... cried myself to sleep every night after escaping you.” it was true. how you feel your baby growing inside you every seconds of your life, it terrified you. thinking how can you raise the baby.

kento's eyes softened. he didn't know it would hurt so much like he felt when you left him. you were getting the brunt of it more than he did. he thinks back from the days of how he treated you and the whole duration of your pregnancy and you giving birth alone. you must been so scared and alone.

all of that, the words of what you said sinking deeper in his skin. remorse and regret is evident in his face while he held you.

“i didn't know.” he whisper, his voice above a breath. “i didn't know you felt that way, darling.” the endearment of what he used to call you and calling you again with it again cause more tears to spring in your eyes. oh, how you love and hate him at the same time.

“i didn't know i could hurt you this bad, i—i was only thinking that if i have you back, everything will be fine. i didn't realize i was hurting you this much.”

he slowly moves away from you. reaching tentatively to hold your hands and his heart breaks to see the face he loves so much to be this hurt. “i want to make things right, darling.” there's a slight tremor in his voice. “i know i can't undo what i had done to you, but please, let me be here for you, for our child.” he holds your hands gently. “i'll do whatever to earn your forgiveness.” you were taken aback from all of it but deep down you could never trust him or forgive him. you didn't respond and you can only shake your head not until you hear crying in the nursery room where your baby sleeps.

“if you want to be better, leave us.” you began to walk away and as much nanami wants to snatch you again, you stop in your tracks. “and maybe, i'll let you back to us.”

“for now.” you added.

he kept true to his words. it's hard but it can never compare of what you had been through and he respects the boundary you were setting. he sent you flowers during the time he wasn't around and it was not enough, he needed to see you and when he did, he was granted to see his daughter, hold her in his arms.

the baby looks like you except for the blonde hair and it was just like he dreamt. a family with you. she's perfect. perfect as her mother who graced him with her presence and this baby, he will protect this child with you.

he finds you crying. masking it as dust getting in your eyes but nanami knows you like the back of his hand. after tucking his daughter back to her crib, he joins you. sitting beside you and it broke his heart a million pieces knowing you were still in the process of forgiving him.

he's a father now but he is still your husband. “i'm so sorry, darling.” he whispers, holding your hand in his. pulling you closer to rest your head in his shoulder but nanami had longed to kiss you again.

he cups your face in his hands. caressing your round cheeks and despite wanting to recoil from his touch and avoid his gaze, some part of you wants to be held like this and you can't lie to yourself that you missed him despite everything. tough love it was or is it there still love in that?

“let me make it up you.” you shaked your head. closing your eyes and a tear escaped from the corner of your eye. nanami frowns. sighing before pressing his forehead into yours for a moment before pulling away to kiss your forehead.

this is nothing, he will endure it for a very long time until he can be yours again.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he call it a happy accident. toji happens to beat that self-proclaimed sorcerer piece of shit and now, that shit is meeting his creator. he pays the body no mind when that leather wallet of this weakling drops beside his body. well, it's not the body is only cold. he expects to find some cold, hard cash there and he gets more than that. a picture of his wife and toji clicks his tongue. kicking the son of a bitch's body. annoyed that his wife is playing house with a another man that didn't even manage to put a scratch on him.

an idea appeared in his mind and toji smirks. he could pay this wife of his a visit. you would be so happy to meet him.

he came knocking at your door and the look you expressed is the best you can ever muster in a true horror of him finding you, it didn't disappoint.

“hey there wife. remember me?” he said in the most cocky voice he can muster and look at you, you're almost shaking in your boots but toji is surprised as you are when you were holding a toddler in your arms. a dead ringer of him. round, emerald eyes with the same eyelashes and face as his. clutching your blouse with a pacifier in his mouth.

his sight narrows to his son and to you. his once surprised face being replaced with a bored look and you couldn't even bring yourself to close the door. you don't know what he's thinking and so he got you when you're weak.

“you birthed a brat and it's mine?” it's not a question really when he comes doing this. his hard body pressed against your soft one. trapped in the cold table where you prepare him tea. insisting that he's a guest in your house and you must be a good host to serve him.

toji sighs, a low grunt coming from him. “you could be so mean if you want to. hiding my child and you come playing house with a man you replaced me with.” your blood runs cold with every words he said and the hands wandering all over your body until it came creeping below your blouse and his rough hands are squeezing the flesh of your stomach. you closed your eyes shut.

“he's a good man. which you will never be and you killed him.” your lungs contracts before releasing a breath that will took you days, months or for years to tell him that and you said it in one breath.

his eyebrows twitch. a look of disdain dawning in his face. just because you tasted freedom and you're acting like a goddamn independent bitch. you deserved to be punished.

the tea's now forgotten cold. you're pinned in the counter top with toji's cupping your jaw in a deathly grip. the skin of your wrist turning into a another shade. the circulation cut off and it begins to numb.

“who said about me being good man? he's a weakling who can't even protect himself and that weakling lead me to you and you're his what? his bitch? a body to warm his bed? when you should be doing it to mine!? you're one ungrateful bitch.” toji chuckles and he smirks triumphantly.

“my kindness needs to be paid, princess.” and here he goes calling you with the spiteful nickname to you.

he didn't give you the time to reply and forcefully kissed you. you almost choked at his whole body weight crushing your own. you couldn't even move your face to the side and reject that kiss of him. you didn't need him and your mind froze thinking of megumi.

you don't want him to see you in this position with his father. you kissed back, giving him what he wants so you can tell him. resistance is futile with megumi present in your life now.

toji grunts. you can feel him smile against your lips and when he breaks the kiss. you stare at him with your eyes pleading. “megumi.” and toji got the message of what you're talking. he glances at the door of the kitchen and he can the tiny shadow of his son walking, although a little wobbly and using the walls to balance himself. he scoffs at his son, ruining his reunion with his mother and toji is quite annoyed by it but it didn't stop him from feeling proud of birthing his son.

toji lets you free and your knees wobbled, giving out on you and you were left kneeling at the cold floor. megumi spotted you and in his own steps made his way to you in which you hugged him tightly.

“you ain't going to introduce him to his old man, wife?” you pursed your lips at his question and ignored him. rubbing megumi's back and shutting his father out and it ticked toji to just take his son away from you but resisted the urge to do so. knowing he can use this to keep you to him again. you would be so obedient with a little threat.

“careful now. you don't want me taking our little megumi away from you.” he warns. “now, put megumi to sleep and we can continue this little reunion of ours.” you nodded and you immediately scamper away from him and you see the front door. you can run but he'll catch you. you accepted your fate now and you would take the brunt of his punishments cause you're a disobedient wide who didn't care about your husband's desire.

it would be a waste to chain you again. toji thought. you're a mother now and he got a son with you. he don't want any interfering from how you will raise his son. he couldn't think about anything and maybe after you put megumi to sleep. he could think the ways he could keep you by his side again. for now, he'll just be a little patient and he can have you again for himself again.

GETO SUGURU

it was a mix of being ashamed and scared.

you knew this day will come when suguru and his child will reunite once again. the last he seen you was a baby bump visible in your dress in which he was happy. it did take root. a new lineage for the age of sorcerers.

dusk beginning to settle in the skies and you were supposed to fetch your son in the front yard telling that supper is ready and to your surprise. you found suguru standing tall, head low to face your son. a smile plastered in his face the whole time talking to your son and then he notices your stiff figure standing in the pavement before slowly walking towards them.

“i am your father. did your mommy told you that?” he asks and your son is processing what the words could mean. taking a glance between you and to his father. waiting for an answer in which you remained silent and only to tell him to go inside and wait for you.

suguru smiles. the smile that you hadn't seen for years and you can't deny that it still have an effect on you. “missed me, (y/n)?” the curse user spoke to you. his black and long hair swaying in the rhythm of the gentle breeze blowing.

“not really.” you honestly said to him and suguru's eyes changes into something dark from how you responded. “guess you got tired of all that luxury or everything's not enough for you.” he tuts. following the changes that is present in your face but he only received a curt shake of your head.

how shallow is that. you were like a pet to him. something he owned. a possession. he didn't like you being you and so you were lavished with expensive stuff that would keep you chained from the compound and to his little family. family. one you never had and never truly belonged in his place however you laid with him every night and the result, your son. living and breathing.

once you found out you were with child. it was a realization that you were never free and it hit you that this child will suffer the same fate as you and so you walked out. never looking back with the sole intention that you will raise this child with a perspective of the world and not to be influenced. his own and so you lived for years in peace until he showed up.

a shiver went down your spine from the contact of his fingers tracing to your soft jawline. electric and shocking. with a touch you will obey him but it's different. you're a mother now and something so good will only bring you to your own demise and it will extend to your child.

it is but you missed him touching you. a slave for his affections and you weren't really different from your past self. mustering the courage is the same as surrending yourself from the man who you treated as your world.

closing your eyes and you raised your head to meet suguru's eyes. purple it is. “you would understand why i left you, suguru. i can't raise ryū in that place.”

“and you think excluding me from ryū's life will change it?” not breaking eye contact while he caress your round cheek.

“yes. you're mad suguru and i can't change that.”

suguru chuckles. how motherhood impacted your ways of thinking. finding it so endearing to see you standing up and you wouldn't believe it that he's much more in love with your or whatever he was feeling. he knows it's bad for him and to you. “look at that, motherhood did you good. mad? i'll show what's mad, my dear wife.” he leans to whisper something to your ear. “i will let this go once and then prepare yourself. you will be back to me and with ryū, there's no chance of turning your back away from me.” he softly threatens to you and it weighs heavier. a contrast of the mellow tone of voice he was using.

“see you soon, (y/n).” kissing your cheeks before waving a hand to say goodbye to your son who was staring behind the windows.

suguru left after that and you knew what's about to come and you wished none of that will happen but suguru was always true to his words and you abandoned hope.

he will come back.

[coraniaid]

Reverse Unpopular Opinion: Season Four of BtVS

[Reverse unpopular opinion meme.]

I’ve been (very, very slowly) rewatching Season 4 on and off all year (and occasionally writing Tumblr posts complaining about this very process about the episodes I’ve been watching), and I think it’s fair to say that this is definitely not the best way to enjoy any season of television.  

That being said, I feel I’d be lying at this point if I pretended this was my absolute favorite season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  In hindsight, the show was in a strange transitory place this year: having lost some of the grounding framework that the high school setting gave the first three seasons of the show – as well as having suddenly lost some of its actors and writers to the new Angel spin-off – and not yet having quite figured out what it was going to do instead.  One can imagine some alternate reality where the show ended up taking a very different direction after this season.

That being said, here are five things I like a lot about Season 4, with as few caveats as I can manage:

I think the opening four episodes of this season – The Freshman, Living Conditions, The Harsh Light Of Day, Fear Itself – are as strong as, if not stronger than, the first four episodes of any other season of the show.  Every other season has at least one dodgy episode in this opening block – in fact Season 3, my favorite season of them all, manages to have two of them! – but where is the bad episode here?  The Freshman is a criminally underrated season opener.  Living Conditions is a fun character episode and a great showcase for SMG to act in ways she doesn’t normally get to on this show.  Fear Itself is the best Halloween episode the show ever did and it’s not even especially close.  The Harsh Light Of Day is my least favorite of the four, for reasons I guess it would be against the spirit of the game to go into, but I certainly wouldn’t say it was a bad episode by any means.  Perhaps none of these episodes would trouble my personal top ten, but they are four very solid episodes nonetheless.

While Anya had of course appeared in a handful of Season 3 episodes, I think Season 4 is the point where Emma Caulfield really makes the role her own.  This season’s version of the character – a blunt-speaking outsider whose romantic struggles are often deliberately contrasted with Buffy’s own [in the aforementioned The Harsh Light Of Day, for example] and who is inexplicably attracted to Xander Harris – could easily have come across as a fairly lazy attempt to replace Cordelia Chase, and I think it’s largely to Caulfield’s credit that she doesn’t.  Anya feels very much like her own person this season, and an increasingly integral member of the group.  It’s a performance that retroactively redefines the character: of course this is who Anya is.  Of course she always acted this way. It's only when you back and rewatch The Wish or Doppelgangland that you realize she didn't. And I think it’s pretty obvious, for example, that when people [e.g. people like me] go back to write Season 3 fanfiction where Anya features more heavily than in canon they [again, meaning me] invariably end up writing the Season 4 version of the character instead.  Anyanka might have appeared for the first time in Season 3, but Anya belongs to Season 4.

I really like how important to the show Willow has become at this point and how much of this season is all about her.  Just go back and look at the first season, in which Willow is arguably the member of the Core Four the writers cared least about – when she existed mainly to nurse a sad unrequited crush on Xander and to be good with computers when the plot required someone to be – and then compare that to this season, where she is Buffy’s best friend and roommate, unambiguously the second most important Scooby, and the center of a – genuinely pretty groundbreaking for the time – .season long subplot about coming out as a lesbian.  And of course Amber Benson is great as Tara too.  I’ve criticized the character of Oz for being very transparently written just to be Willow’s Nice Supportive Boyfriend and never becoming much more than that, and on paper you could level the same sort of charge at Tara.  And sure, obviously she was written to be Willow’s girlfriend and it’s impossible to seriously pretend otherwise.  But I think Tara manages to become a more rounded character than Oz very quickly. Even in this season, when she doesn’t yet have much connection to the others (she will, later, go on to become a key member of the group and a friend of Buffy's in ways I don’t think Oz was) she feels a little more complex than he did.

Faith is in this season!  I don’t just mean in the two parter This Year’s Girl / Who Are You? either. Of course, both of these episodes are great: the scene in the church in Who Are You? In which Faith (in Buffy’s body) breaks down while fighting Buffy (in Faith’s body), -- screaming repeatedly at her own reflection that she’s “nothing”, “disgusting”, and a "murderous bitch" -- is one of my favorites in the whole show.  But Faith feels like a real presence in the show even in the episodes she’s not actually in herself.  Unlike Kendra or Jenny in previous seasons, or even Cordelia the season, the other characters still talk about her and remember she existed when it’s appropriate that they do so (and in a way that they won’t really do again until … well, until Faith comes back in Season 7’s Dirty Girls).

Finally, Restless is possibly the best episode the show ever did, and certainly one of its most creative.  Willow’s dream sequence in particular is fantastically well done. I think this might be my favorite single act in all of Buffy.  Why this all works for me – apart from the fact that the show now has years of history to fall back on and reference – is that it’s an example of the show being utterly unafraid to play to its strengths.  Characterisation, dream sequences, dialogue, foreshadowing, oddly striking visuals, random moments of comedy … these – rather than tightly written plots or rigorously consistent world-building or anything that requires a working knowledge of world history or how the US military functions or what capitalism actually is – are the show’s strengths.  So Restless embraces all of these elements, and just doesn’t bother with anything else.  And the result is a season finale that – by virtue of not really being a season finale at all, at least according to the usual rules – is not quite like any other season finale the show ever did.  Which is, on reflection, a pretty fitting end to Season 4, a season of the show not quite like any of the others. 

[writer-by-the-sea]

Highly requested, a Sleep Aid with Elliott from Stardew Valley. Listen, and relax, and drift off to sleep as he tells you a bedtime story, writes with his feather quill, and (awkwardly/randomly) sings softly to you.

Please note, there are two versions of this upload, the first with his quill and the second without. The version with is myself writing with a glass pen, but you can hear noise in the background that I personally don't like.

Also, if you would like to send me a little gift, you can do so here (Amazon).

Script below if needed.

Enjoy, and sleep well!

Ah, I’m sorry, did I wake you? 

I had an idea for my next novel and wanted to get started. 

However, I can come back to bed– 

No? Are you sure, darling? 

I don’t want to keep you up. 

Oh, you were already having trouble sleeping? 

I’m sorry, my love. I wish I could help. 

My quill is soothing? That’s very cute. 

Would it help if I were to count sheep for you? 

1 sheep 

2 sheep

3 sheep– 

Haha oh you, don’t give me that look! Haha do you have any other ideas? 

Hm.. 

A bedtime story? 

Sure, darling. Anything to help. 

Let’s see.. 

The story begins on a beach, in the middle of nowhere, with very few around to enjoy it. 

Far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, where the only sound you hear are the waves as they push and pull away from the sand, and the occasional seagull cawing in the distance. 

On this beach lived a man, alone in the world and terrified of starting life over. 

You see, he was born and raised in the city; accustomed to never seeing the stars at night, always on guard for what may lurk in the shadows, never having his own privacy even in his tiny apartment. 

He fled from his childhood home at a young age, never looking back, and never speaking to his family again. However, his dreams of becoming a writer were quickly squashed by the constant noise that surrounded him. That and the absurd cost of rent. 

And thus, he moved to the beach with nothing but a suitcase, a heart full of dreams for the future,.. and a severe case of writer’s block.

While he worried that this was a mistake, that he had wasted his tiny bit of savings for a tiny shack on the beach– as soon as he arrived, he knew this was the right decision. 

Perhaps he would never accomplish his dreams of writing a bestseller; but being here on the beach, with new neighbors, new friends, and new.. Love…

He finally felt he was home. 

It’s such a funny thing, in all of his years, he had no idea what home truly felt like. This warmth that wraps itself around your chest, squeezing you every day as a reminder that you’ve finally found the one place where you belong. 

Hah I feel the story is quite obviously about myself….

I was only living here a year or so before you arrived. Filled with similar dreams as my own, to get away from the city and start your life anew. 

Honestly, I think I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you. 

And while I was perfectly happy to spend the rest of my days as a bachelor living on the beach; I never, in my entire life, felt this way about another person. 

I don’t think I could live a single day without you in my life, otherwise I may perish. 

I look forward to waking up with you beside me every morning, your eyes heavy with sleep and filled with sand, your face buried into your pillow as if you were attempting to plant your own head into the cool silk, your yawn as you finally wake and smile back at me.. 

Yoba, I must be the luckiest man alive to have you. I love you. 

As tempting as it is to kiss your cheek, it seems that you have finally fallen asleep. 

Goodnight, my love. 

…

……..

…………

Would it be unreasonable for two strangers to fall in love in a single day? 

….

Well, I fell for you in the span of 3 whole seconds; so I don’t see why not. 

[typewritingyip]

Hi ! I don’t know what hour is it where u live but it’s pretty late for me so : apologies for this hehe

LETS BE HONEST HERE : I LOVE YOUR STORY ! Im currently only on like….chapter 4, but

BUT i love the world building, we can see you really thought about all of that deeply

And. *chief kiss*

I have a proposition my dear writer.

If you describe me how you see Hound, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Breakdown in this AU, both in human and mech form (important things, like weapons, or facial features for the human part)

Then I want to draw them. I don’t know if I will have the time to actually illustrate this but AT LEAST I wanna have a full image in mind when I read this blorbos in your (amazing) style

Also also it’s funny because I was reading your story and I saw your pfp and I’ve been like ‘eh ? I know this’

And yes. You are the kind person that always like and comment on my drawings and I wanted to say TYSM <333

Oh my gosh, Hi!

I’m so glad you love the story, it’s been entirely amazing to be able to write like I have been. You have made my entire day so much better, thank you!

As for the crew of Arcturus One, man, I don’t even know where to begin. I know I briefly described how the ingrained tech was different for each of them in a different post probably here, but actually describing them and their suits…

Hound is what I’ve pictured as the very typical run of the mill military guy, he’s in his late 20’s/early 30’s and has been piloting for around 10 years. Probably started between 20-22, younger but not the youngest to become a pilot. When I’ve spoken about him out loud, I kinda have described him as a better version of Duke from GI Joe, but a lot less blonde. He’s probably a brunette in my minds eye. He stands without the suit around 5’11, on the fitter side of things, and had perpetual eye-bag syndrome. Mans is always tired. He very much would have had that “boy next door” look about him in his younger days (when he first met his ex-wife *cough*) but yeah. That very typical American who is mostly white but generally has a bit of everything there. He has been known to have facial hair but prefers the military look, just cause he does emulate his father in that respect.

Breakdown is from Ukraine, he is the tall guy of the group like 6’ and above. Very stoic in appearance, but the guy is so kind that he is only really intimidating when you don’t know him. He’s on the older side of things, has been a pilot for around 15 years, and probably is one of the longest standing ones. His number came about when he emigrated to the US, getting things changed and re-organized so he has been a pilot longer than Jazz but not in the same programs till after Jazz was around. He’s the eastern block guy of the group, dry humor and certainly knows more English than he lets on. But he still learned a lot of it from movies and things. I’d put him on the slightly bulkier side of things, he’s put in a lot of hard labor and his mech is harder to control than the others. It’s older and heavier, but familiar.

Now the twins, I probably know the most about their appearance. Being born and raised in Florida, I wanted to give them a bit more history and culture, (make Hound feel like the odd one out, sort of) but their mom was from Cuba and their dad met her when he was visiting from New York. They are fraternal twins and Sides took after his dad while Sunny took after their mom. Meaning Sides got hella straight hair and Sunny has got curls, which he will be the first to say are the biggest pain in space. They both are around 6 foot, not taller than that and are pretty lanky. The reason they became pilots is cause they were going to get arrested for drug dealing and street racing, they weren’t dealing drugs but welcome to America. This happened around 16/17, and they’ve been pilots for about 7 or 8 years, so early to mid 20’s right now. Still pretty young.

So to just briefly explain, Hound remind me of just a better/older looking Duke from GI Joe (comics not movies), Breakdown is Ukrainian with the touches of scaring from growing up behind the iron curtain. Sunstreaker is Cuban-Italian, with more features from his mom’s side. Sideswipe is also Cuban-Italian, with more features from his dad’s side. They look incredibly alike and can be confused for identical but they certainly are fraternal.

Now for the Mech suits, the hardest part for me.

Hound is green and very military themed, kinda take War Machine from marvel but make it typical military green in a way. They still have the smoother edges and rounded corners, unlike the Cybertronian’s. The military wanted to make him look approachable to kids, so he sorta looks like a giant thing wearing a helmet to them, but his visor is whole face (like Soundwave sorta in TFP) It had the ability to light up and darken, it was newer tech that they were attempting to make the mechs seem less threatening (*cough cough* blame vortex *cough cough*) He does not have wings or additional thrusters other than the ones that help him stay upright, so he cannot fly/float. Hence the parachutes in chapter 4. His gun stores in part of his leg just cause there wasn’t many other places it would fit, it’s a hand gun with the ability to add a longer barrel to it to make a rifle. It’s not mounted or anything so it looks kinda like he’s unarmed most of the time.

Breakdown is very utilitarian, I mean it doesn’t look dissimilar from the mech suits that the Russian’s pilots in pacific rim on the bottom half, they got a bunch of regime contractors and engineers together to make a defense system and that’s what he pilots. The head was re-designed on his entering Mecha’s service to be more appealing towards marketing. Hence the orange battle mask, I really haven’t described it so much in person but his suit’s head looks much more cybertronian than the others, spots for eyes etc. I’d say his head is much more Earthspark shaped than TFP but that’s just me. His suit is mostly blue though like TFP. He had a soviet era anti-aircraft style cannon attached at the top of his arm/shoulder but that’s received some upgrades. I think I also mentioned other weapons for him but I can’t find it at the moment.

The twins suits aren’t dissimilar other than for the shape of their heads, weapon choice, and color. Their suit’s aren’t dissimilar in shape to Hot Rods here, but once again lack the door wings. They also only have the partial facial visors, mostly covering where eyes would be. They effectively have blades on the outer side of their arms, the bracers I mention in later chapters, for Sunny that is all he has preferring close combat because his mech is lighter and faster than most other pilots (other than Blur, which your design for him is peak I might add.) Sides has those but one side can pop out to be an actual sword/blade that he prefers to use. That took a lot of trial and error to make work.

—

Wow, that was a lot to write out. Also, if you want more information on them or other character's who will appear in later Arcturus missions (because I have a list, muhahaha) feel free to reach out! I love talking about these guys, I love writing them, and it’s just my current escape from the hellscape that is LSAT prep. Also for everyone, I live in eastern standard time, so New York time zone. Next part will hopefully be out tomorrow night at 4:30 ish.

[thewritertiger]

strawberry shortcake au!

i can't believe i'm actually going to bother you with my recurring hyperfixation, but here we go,folks!

world building:

This Pinescone au is based on the 80s Strawberry Shortcake series. but with some modifications that I made to adapt to the au and the characters and at the same time taking elements from the other reboots

In this version, Strawberryland is a quiet, remote small town where the tiny habitants spend all seasons harvesting their fruits and vegetables. At the pace of the series, there will be no villains, but there will only be simple problems in the town that end well in the end. (like the children's series of those times. Take reference from My Little Pony (the first generations), the Moomins, the Smurfs)

All the habitants are smaller than fruits, each one has their own job or house in a shape of a sweet (like a cake house, etc.). and each inhabitant is characterized by its fruit flavor and aroma. what makes them unique and differentiable

Everyone in Strawberryland has a specific skill in cooking. (For example, Wirt specializes in the sweets served in cafes.)

There are other towns depending on the flavor and taste (a vegetable town, another of flour, another of ice cream) but Strawberryland focuses on fruits.

pinescone headcanons:

They both met like it happens in the 80s series, except that Dipper would get lost trying to find the town and Wirt would offer him a hand. (just look at the damn video and imagine wirt and dipper singing this adorably!. don't tell me this is not a big deal)

2. Wirt runs a coffee shop in the village and lives there. It is his home and his coffee shop at the same time.

3. (NOT DECIDED YET) Dipper being a strawberry his sister Mabel is a blueberry. Together they are the Berry twins (Help I don't know what fruit to give Mabel I'm between blueberry, cherry, raspberry or like the canonical sister in the 80s series "Apple Dumplings". I need help with this part). Mabel specializes in cooking with excessive sugar dishes and is also the town's fashion designer.

4. Mabel forces Dipper to wear the clothes she creates for Dipper. Dipper is embarrassed and frustrated to walk around the town like that. Wirt finds it adorable and cute, and is always curious to know what cute clothes Dipper will wear.

5.Wirt loves cooking for Dipper, it's one of his favorite things because he loves every tender expression of joy that the little strawberry puts on when trying his new and improved desserts.

6.Wirt has the personality of a spoiled and affectionate mother. She loves her friends very much (especially Dipper) and will show her affection through actions.

7.Dipper is considered Wirt's favorite customer at the cafeteria. He sometimes helps him taste his new or improved desserts.

8.They both give each other affectionate nicknames, Dipper is "little strawberry" and Wirt is "orange pie"

9. Dipper doesn't know how to cook, every single thing he cooks burns. It's considered weird not to know how to cook or specialize in a recipe in Strawberryland. But Dipper doesn't care, his true talent is writing. He writes diaries and books and works for the town newspaper (the poor thing has a lot of writer block)

10.Wirt tries to suppress the desire to kiss and pinch those chubby, pink cheeks that the strawberry has. He is so adorable that sometimes he can't control himself.

11. They both like each other, Wirt knows his feelings perfectly while Dipper still doesn't admit it. They both didn't declare themselves for fear of ruining their friendship.

12.Wirt writes music and poetry in his freetime, he shares it with Dipper after closing at night. All his poems and music are dedicated to Dipper but he doesn't realize it yet.

13.Dipper is very absent-minded and clumsy lol

that's all you can go now pipipipi

[infinity-or-oblivion]

so my loa batkids au has gained a little traction and i’ve hit a bit of a wall when it comes to writing new stuff so here’s an infodump to hopefully kill my writers block xoxoxo

first of all, jason. my forever number one blorbo. there’s a bit of a role reversal here because compared to all the rest of them, jason arguably had it the easiest. like we’re not going to compare traumas but an argument could be made. i honestly don’t remember if i mentioned it at all in the actual series yet, but the story i have for jason is that his childhood with willis and catherine was about the same as canon/commonly accepted fanon, meaning he was homeless around nine years old. however, instead of living on the streets for years, it was only a few months tops before meeting bruce.

and bruce! this is very fun to me, but basically i was thinking that if he didn’t raise dick, then why couldn’t this version of bruce be younger? so bruce becomes batman in his early twenties, which is also around the time that he visits the league of assassins for training and damian is conceived. (for a little more about that, here) and bruce is roughly 25 when he finds a tiny 9-10 year old jason trying to steal his tires. just imagine that it’s so fucking adorable and heartbreaking ANYWAYS bruce, despite being overall a disaster, doesn’t let a malnourished 10 year old out to fight crime right away, so there’s a couple years between when jason first meets bruce and when he becomes a child soldier yayyyy!!!! but legit, it makes a lot of difference to jason, because you know how canon!jason has some self-esteem issues (for lack of a better term) around bruce not really loving him/seeing him as a son because bruce started training him as robin (and as dick’s replacement) immediately after adopting him- you know that whole thing? yeah well here, despite jason actually offering to help bruce as a vigilante, this bruce is like hell nah you’re literally ten years old and the size of a six year old no way, and those few years in between really stick in jason’s mind as solid proof that bruce really does love him, not for what use he can provide, but simply as a son. also being the only child definitely helps with that

(that little detail of jason and bruce’s relationship is slightly inspired by minimum height requirement, which is absolute batfam gold btw)

okay so. slight pet peeve of mine is in aus where dick isn’t the first robin, the legacy is still called robin for whatever reason (lookin at you reverse robins aus) because!!!!! how dare you erase mary and john grayson’s importance!!!!! (look there’s more nuance to it than that i know but. to put it simply it feels like flying graysons erasure to me) so in this au, jason can’t possibly be called robin. the real robin has been missing for roughly seven years at this point

and listen. i tried to be creative and come up with something cool and original for jason’s vigilante name i really did, but apparently i used all of my naming talent on nighthawk (fucking love that name for dick it’s so fantastic) so we just have bluejay. womp womp

also! on my list of things to expand on: main timeline stephanie!!! i’ve had an absolute blast making myself cry while writing every heart sings a song, incomplete and those who wish to sing always find a song, but spoiler steph will always be my babygirl. and duke!!!! i have not written barely anything for duke in this universe but believe me i have some Thoughts. perhaps even Ideas. basically a lot of steph&duke and steph&babs and steph&duke&babs because i love my little underrated trio

also just more babs in general, because like. i’ve had so many tiny little snippets of cass and babs and their sweet little relationship just sitting in my notes for literal years now that i really just need to organize and expand into their own fic. and yet. i have not done that. but rest assured cass&babs are very very important to me

such is the curse of female fanfic writers: always destined to fixate more on the male poor little meow meows than the female bad bitches. seriously what the fuck is up with that guys i don’t get it why does this happen

[rosalindbeatrice]

Thought I'd dust off this 10-year-old Tumblr and invite A03 readers and any Bob Dylan fans to keep up with my writing here. Other unrelated content to maybe be added, maybe not. I really struggle with personal writing. I always think of it as looking at one's own excrement and then inviting others to gawk too. It feels strange and gross to write a blog and expect others to be interested in it. RE: The Patient. Part VI is in progress. I got blocked in late October--or maybe that's just a grand way of saying "busy." I have a personal life into which I'm forever cramming little interests in side projects, and then it was November 5, 2024, and then of course the unthinkable happened again, which I suppose makes it thinkable. And maybe that's why it wasn't as devastating this time around. I used the occasion to disconnect from the political news cycle and continue a recent left turn into poetry, which I haven't written in 15 odd years or so. Actually Bob Dylan was the reason for my foray back into it. I saw him live in September and was quite moved by the experience. I got to thinking about his legacy, all the interpretations and expectations people put on his lyrics and performances and public endeavors throughout the years, and the disappointment it seemed like 5/6 of the audience that night felt over the fact he's not attempting to play recognizable versions of his songs. Which is ridiculous, because you can go back to 1966 and he wasn't attempting to replicate the recorded versions. It seems ridiculous that anyone should expect an 83-year-old to try to mimic a 25-year-old. So a poem came pouring out and I sent out it for publication. I secretly hope it will be so good that the editors will have no choice to select it. I'm also realistic, since I've gotten my first rejections the past couple months. That's one of my other behind-the-scenes projects. I'm shopping around a book to an agent (not fiction) and I've gotten three or four rejections so far, and I'm just letting it "bake" for now, just like I've been letting The Patient bake, but more on that in a moment.

In November, Bob tweeted: "Saw Nick Cave in Paris recently at the Accor Arena and I was really struck by that song Joy where he sings ‘We’ve all had too much sorrow, now it the time for joy.' I was thinking to myself, yeah that’s about right.” I read Cave's response, and particularly loved this:

I did indeed feel it was a time for joy rather than sorrow. There had been such an excess of despair and desperation around the election, and one couldn’t help but ask when it was that politics became everything.

The world had grown thoroughly disenchanted, and its feverish obsession with politics and its leaders had thrown up so many palisades that had prevented us from experiencing the presence of anything remotely like the spirit, the sacred, or the transcendent – that holy place where joy resides.

While I abhor the lazy line of thinking (and I'm not at all suggesting this is where Cave is coming from) that "both sides are at fault/just as bad/to blame" and have no intention of disengaging from politics, at least locally, Bob and Cave's reflections had me reflecting. Life is so short. Music, poetry, writing, and nature make it worth living. There's something to be said for tuning out of the hateful noise and tuning into those things, at least for select periods. So I wrote poetry and I drank in music and I finished the book I started that night at Bob's concert, Susan Hill's Strange Meeting. I'd never heard of Hill before but had picked up my 1970s paperback copy at a "donate what you can" book sale earlier that day because it was slim enough to carry around. This chance purchase ended up being my favorite book of the year. Not only is Hill an amazing writer, the whole experience of the book was just gutting. I realized midway through that it's a love story. There are no overt overtones of queerness, although I suppose you could read the book that way if you wanted. I kept thinking about the characters days after I read it. I've just bought three or four more of her books. So to get back to The Patient, I haven't written partly because I've been busy in my personal life and partly because I've been directing my creative energies elsewhere. I'd be lying if I didn't acknowledge I was stuck on the story, though. I know how it ends, but I couldn't see the footpath there. It didn't bother me overtly. I don't know if I really believe in writer's block, at least for me. I've learned that I go through periods of fallowness and periods of intense growth. I was letting it percolate before I started pushing it along with pomodoros. At some point today, though, I started chewing over Bob and Joyce again, and things clicked. I know fan fiction is "only" fan fiction, but I still take it seriously. I want to do right by the characters.* They just weren't talking to me lately. I know what Joyce wants and what she thinks so wants, and I know what Bob thinks he wants and he's afraid of, but I didn't know what happens in the meantime. So anyway, I'm about 4k words into the chapter with 5k to 6k to go. Estimated completion date is January. The overachiever in me wanted to finish it before the Chalamet film was released yesterday, partly because I didn't want anyone to think the story had been influenced by the film, but the part of me that's gone to therapy said, 'Slow down and chill the fuck out.' I haven't seen the Chalamet film, but I'm cautiously optimistic. I might go catch it on Monday or Tuesday. I don't find Chalamet much of a heartthrob. It's the elder millennial in me I think. Also the me that just detests pop culture. I saw him in Little Women and completely forgot he'd been in it. The more checked out I am from pop culture the better. Anyway, enjoy this photo of Bob by the pool ca. 1965 that I stole off the Internet. You can find The Patient here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55283422?view_full_work=true

*Make no mistake, Joyce and Bob are characters. I have no pretense that I know Bob Dylan. I can make educated guesses about Bob Dylan. Plus writing is just fun, doubly so with real musical artists and writers because they're so multilayered. There's a lot of material to work with, but you get to fill in the interstitials too.

[thedevilsoftruth]

Welcome to the Devils of Truth blog! The blog where all your fantasies and desires can come to life. Sit back, enjoy yourself. We're here to have a good time...

About me!

Hello beautiful, sexy people. My name is Bullet ( she/her ), and I am a fanfic writer. I am here to spread good vibes and show love to everyone. My blog is 100% LGBT+ safe, so anyone within that community is safe and welcomed here. I write fanfic to connect with people and simply just for fun.

A couple fun facts about me is that my favorite bands of all time are Nine Inch Nails, Soft Cell and Depeche Mode. I'm an artist, I make cool traditional art and sometimes I'll post it on here. As my bio says, I have ADHD and I'm a bit silly.... and sometimes don't know how to control my filter ( apologies for that )

▪︎▪︎▪︎☆☆☆☆☆▪︎▪︎▪︎

Blog rules.

My rules for this blog are simple; don't be an ass in my comments, or you'll get blocked and your comments will be deleted :)) And as always, minors dni with my posts!!! I will also have ZERO tolerance for fat phobes, racists, trump supporters, and homophobes. I'm really big on the Trump supporters thing, none of you Trump supporters are welcome here.

What you'll find here.

I kind of just talk about stuff on here. I rant a lot. I like talking to people, meeting people and hearing what people have to say about things. But I also post a lot of fanfiction on here!

The Fandoms I post about on here are random, but here is the short list of the fandoms I write for or post about;

Nine Inch Nails. You'll find some NIN stuff. I reblog or post important news about the band, and I will come on here and post happy birthday posts to their albums.

The Marvel Universe. I started out being a Loki blog, I posted some Loki stuff, but this blog will probably never see the light of anything Loki related ever again.

Stardew Valley. I posted a bunch of Shane content back in my day, but maybe I'll bring more characters from this game into my blog somehow..

Demon Slayer: The absolute most recent fandom I've brought into my blog. I'm still trying to slowly reel it in...

▪︎▪︎▪︎☆☆☆☆☆▪︎▪︎▪︎

Characters I will write for:

For Marvel: Anyone in the Moon Knight system, Steve Roger's, Thor, Bucky Barnes.

For Stardew Valley: Shane, Elliott and Harvey.

For Demon Slayer: Rengoku, Gyomei, Sanemi, Tengen, Douma, Akaza, Kokushibou, and Mitsuri.

Any other characters that weren't mentioned are excluded unless your request is good enough to convince me. Absolutely no underage characters should be requested, even if it's not for smut.

My request box is currently open!!! Please feel free to request me anything.♡

For requests:

Please do not request me any of the following: anything having to do with major age gaps ( 18 year old and 27 yesr old character ) MLM ( I do not write for male protagonists or for mlm because I do not feel comfortable with it as some men in the LGBT community are uncomfortable with women writing gay smut. ) teacher x student, anal sex (idk it's weird for me,) anything having to do with drugging, step dad or step brother stuff ( it's incestuous and weird ), omegaverse, and mafia bullshit are also immediately out of the picture.

I also will not write anything having to do with child abuse or anything specifically having to do with race.

I only write for WLW or MfF!!! Only female or g/n protagonists are allowed to be requested.

Masterlists:

Loki Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Sdv Shane Masterlist

Gyomei Himejima Masterlist

Kyojuro Rengoku Masterlist

[jumpywhumpywriter]

I don’t know how to start messages at all, so I’ll just get to the point: you’re writing is hecking amazing. I literally only just discovered your blog and I’m already hooked and invested in like 5 different stories. As people say, I want to consume your writing the way a wolf tears apart the innards of its prey (hope that’s not too weird of a compliment; I mean that the writing is very good. I’m not good at expressing extreme amazement and stuff through writing at all and general social awkwardness so sorry if I’m coming off as weird, I don’t mean to).

I have more things to say/ask (like how you write so fast cause the heck? That’s a compliment by the way), but I don’t want to be rude or annoying. Anyways, I hope you’re having a good day/night and are staying hydrated and enjoying some cookies (or whatever your favorite food is) while you do writing stuff (or school or whatever. Idk anything about your life. I’ll stop talking now before I go on another tangent like right now) :)

This is literally one of the sweetest compliments I've EVER gotten! I love the analogy with the wolf tearing out the insides of its prey, that gave me a good laugh and made me smile LOL. It's not weird at all! (At least, not in MY world, because 'weird' is my version of 'normal'. You can't out-weird me haha) and I'm super socially awkward too so I totally understand how you feel!

I absolutely adore the fact that you took the time to send this to me! It really helps motivate me to keep writing! I honestly wouldn't post here very often without comments like yours to keep me going.

On to answering your questions now. This is going to be a long one.

Firstly, I have a terrible relationship with sleep. Sleep hates me. So my solution? Stay up to 3am writing giant novels! Some nights the inspiration hits out of nowhere, and I'll write like a crazy person on their 10th cup of coffee, doing five whole pages in Google Docs. Like I don't know what sleep is anymore LOL. Then I break the large chunk of writing I did up into several smaller sections I can put into separate posts on this app that I can post slowly over time to keep people entertained for a longer time instead of posting everything all at once and running out of content.

For example, I might literally have 13 posts in my drafts section ALL from a single batch of writing I did all at once the night before that took me 5 whole hours to write and edit.

In all honestly I am NOT a fast writer at all. I just happen to be able to write giant sections at a time and then split them up so I can post frequently which gives the ILLUSION that I am fast writer because of how often I post content. But in reality it's just been prepared in advance on my sleepless nights where I power through and complete whole pages at a time. (I'm actually a slower snail when it comes to writing because I try to go for quality not quantity -- I take my time to make stories interesting vs just writing as long as I can)

It's convenient too because some days I don't have the inspiration at all/experience writer's block so I can just post content I made over the previous few nights instead to make up for not writing anything new that day.

I also have ADHD which makes it so I can hyperfocus on writing for several hours at a time without a break. Sometimes I'll get really deep into a story where I just can't put down my phone and stop writing to go to sleep.

Thanks again for your WONDERFUL ask! It made my whole day (or night in this case, ironically because that's what it is right now for me as I'm answering this LOL -- proving my point about no sleep 😅😅)

Keep being awesome my new fan!! 🥰 And hope you enjoy more of my stories!

[the-wip-project]

SloMo WriMo: Confronting Your Fears

There’s a voice in my head. And it’s telling me to stop writing.

It makes me afraid, telling me that my writing is worthless, that there’s no point, that nothing I do matters. That I suck. That I need to check my ego, pretending that I’m any sort of expert in a position to give advice to others. That if I post this then I’ll be opening myself up to attacks by trolls. Why even bother? It says. No one wants to read your ramblings anyway. Why not just keep your ideas in your head? Where it’s safe?

If you’re reading this? It means that once again I’ve beaten the voice back and written anyway.

There’s a lot of names for that voice. Impostor Syndrome, The Critical Voice. The Inner Editor. Writers Block. (Yes, I am including writers block on this list.) The Superconciousness.

And like it or not, we all have a version of it in our heads.

Writers who write often and freely are not magically free of that voice. The only difference is that they (including me— most of the time) have learned how to corral and even shut out that voice.

How? Every writer has a different bag of tricks, but it’s not as simple as using a program that stops you from rewriting, or only writing in sprints. That can be helpful, but treating the symptoms without confronting the problem will eventually lead to failure.

First you have to pay attention to exactly what is that voice in your head whispering to you. (And don’t let it trick you into believing that it’s not like other inner voices, and is actually is helpful, or truthful.)

Everyone’s inner voice is unique, but if you find yourself:

Needing to do just a bit more research before you can start (even though you’ve already accumulated plenty of knowledge on the subject)

Endlessly editing a section (often the opening!) and never moving any further forward

Suddenly bored with a story even though you were excited to write it just a few thousand words ago

Frequently abandoning writing, and having a hard drive full of almost done manuscripts

If you find yourself frequently doing any of those things? Most likely it’s fear stopping you. Fear of what? Again, it’s different for everyone, but here’s some common ones:

What if it’s bad?

What if it’s made fun of?

What if I fail in my vision?

What if I offend someone (reasonably or not) and a twitter mob descends on me with pitchforks and torches?

What if no one wants to read it?

The thing is, on the surface those fears sound very reasonable. If you write something it could be bad, or stupid, or boring, or offensive.

So what should you do in the face of all these risks?

Honestly? There’s really only two options. Quit, or write it anyway.

Me? I’ve decided to face my fears and write anyway. I assume that anyone reading this wants to do that too.

But how?

In the end it comes down to awareness, and permission.

Here’s how it works for me. I get an idea: What if it’s like Leverage, but in SPACE!!!(but in space is a common idea I have lol) I start writing: This is exciting! Writing an ensemble cast is a fun new challenge! And then suddenly I feel like I’ve hit a wall: This sucks. The characters are boring and hackneyed. No one will ever want to read it. How would I even market something like this? Why am I writing this? I should just quit. I have a different idea that’s much better anyway.

Sound familiar?

But ha! It’s familiar to me too. I know those negative thoughts are just the fear voice talking. So I face them: Fears? You might be right. It might be bad. But I’m going to write it anyway.

And I keep repeating that, reminding myself that it’s okay to write something less than perfect, that it’s okay if it’s bad, and that I still want to write this story, until the writing gets fun again. And it does get fun again. For me at least. I’ve had enough practice at this that the fears really only grip me at certain moments. Unfortunately if the fears have a powerful hold on you, you may have to battle them all the way through. Even if that’s the case, every time you beat them, they will get weaker.

And that’s it. It’s three simple steps.

1. Identify your fears, and how they stop you

2. Challenge the negative thoughts, and give yourself permission to write anyway

3. Keep writing

Easy to say, and hard to do! (Of course I’m not a mental health professional, this is simply my experiences. If what you’re dealing with is severe and/or harming you, please seek professional help.)

I'd love to know what you do to confront your fears!

[fontasticcrablettes]

Been really thinking about making a modern Tales crossover AU these past few days, and i’ve got a basic premise in mind, but I’m relatively new to long form writing, and i keep backing out due to the urge of “i’m not writing these characters correctly/they wouldn’t be like this”. Any tips for a newcomer writer to get over that kind of anxiety?

I'm going to try to give you actionable advice beyond the generic "Write anyway, even if it's not living up to your expectations, because writing poorly is the only way to learn how to write well" (even though all of that is true).

Writing is a skill like any other. The more practice you've had, the faster and more effortless it feels. You know how talented and experienced artists can just free hand some fanart and it looks just the character instantly? But a beginner artist will probably have to draw a sketch with guidelines, block things in, and gradually add more detail to get it to look right.

This is the same with writing! When you're just starting out, the dialogue and character actions can be like that rough sketch. Just giving yourself the idea of where things go and how the scene is moving. You can then give it more passes to get it sounding right.

So let's think about your problem. You're worried about, "They wouldn't be like this." But what thought comes next? Anxiety is telling you to follow that with, "so I should give up." But I'm telling you to follow it with another question: "So how would they be?"

Because I think that if you look at your writing and think "They wouldn't act like this," then what that tells me is that you know how they do act. How can you recognize that they're out of character if you have no idea what in-character looks like? This is like Dumbo's magic feather: the power is already inside you!

If you recognize that, for example, the dialogue you wrote for someone doesn't sound right, try to think of a time in canon when they said something similar - a similar level of tension, similar emotional state, similar level of intimacy with whom they're speaking. Now you have example of how they speak and behave in canon. Use that as reference for when they would be sarcastic, what sort of slang they'd use, how formal they'd be, etc.

Writing an AU setting can be a double-edged sword. One one hand. you might be extra anxious because they aren't in their canonical setting so you have less of a frame of reference. But on the other, I think most readers are also more forgiving of characters behaving differently in AUs. They have a different upbringing, after all; it's going to affect them. Concentrate on the second part if you're getting anxious that your AU versions of the characters aren't close enough to canon.

Ultimately, writing a lengthy fic for the first time is a daunting endeavour. A lot of people would be very intimidated to undertake a project like this! Your anxiety is likely scared in general of committing a long and effort-intensive project and looking for excuses to tell you not to even try. After all, if you don't try, you can't fail. Your anxiety is being dumb. You've got a cool project to share, and you're going to learn a lot about writing while working on it (even if some of that learning is subconscious).

Good luck! Write that fic!

[thetragicallynerdy]

WIP weekend

Time to do a WIP weekend!! I got tagged by @zombiethingy, and finally have time to write today (and this whole week really), and need some inspiration, so here we go! Thanks so much for the tag friend!!

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

My WIPs are:

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Sunday AND Tuesday – Soulmate AU + First Meetings – soulmates seeing in colour version. Jim/Archie/Olu/Zheng."

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Wednesday – Fighting | Hurt/Comfort – Jim insomnia fic - WEREWOLF AU PACK PACK PACK"

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Friday  - Garlic (NSFW) - Group Sex | Exploring a new kink  AND Saturday – Mix up the pairings/dealer’s choice – Jim/Zheng with Olu/Archie watching."

Concussion – unfinished, unposted (OFMD, Jim-centric)

blood part 4 (OFMD)

For "OFMD garlic soup week is in 6 weeks and I want to have at least a few fics done" reasons, three of my WIPs are for that XD (but they're all in one document because i'm terrible, so they get subtitles too)

Tagging, but only if you want to (and if you don't I am handing you an oven-warm cookie instead)! @alfalfairy, @yourlocal-charlatan, @yerbamansa, @redxluna, @petrichorca - and anyone who sees this and wants to do it! (Feels like a long while since I've tagged writer pals, so I can't remember who all of you that like to do this sort of thing are XD)

Snippet below the cut:

from concussion (which is an exploration of long-term concussion & disability through ofmd)

The first miracle happens – a man comes back to life. It’s not the man you hoped it would be, but it’s a joyful occasion nonetheless. Joyful, and fearful, because you don’t know what you’ll do if Blackbeard or Izzy finds out.

It’s Lucius. You stumble back to your cabin early one evening, because if you don’t lie down you might pass out, and Fang insists he’ll cover for you and shoos you away. You slide open the door and find Lucius sprawling on your bed, whispering to Frenchie who sits on the floor darning the pants he’d torn at the knee the day before.

They both freeze, staring at you like a rabbit caught in a snare.

“Jim,” Frenchie says, stumbling over his words, darning set carefully aside as he scrambles to his feet. “I can explain –“

You stumble into the room, closing the door and lurching towards the bed. Lucius sits up, and you can see now that he’s skinny, filthy too, a full beard covering his face. You can’t believe he’s alive. You can’t believe he’s here.

“I need to lie down,” is all you can say, because if you say anything else you’re going to burst into tears, and if you wrap him up in a hug you might shatter apart.

“No, yeah, absolutely,” Lucius stammers out, sitting up. “I can go –“

You don’t wait. You just crawl onto the mattress beside him and lay down, curling onto your side, dragging the pillow from where it lay and shoving it under your head. It hurts to keep your eyes open, so you close them, press your palms overtop for good measure. The warmth of them helps, and the way they block out the light helps even more. “Stay.”

Silence follows, or maybe you just can’t hear the creaking of his weight shifting on the bed or the looks he and Frenchie exchange over the thudding of your pulse in your ears. Slowly, carefully, not touching you at all, Lucius lays back down.

Two fingers touch the back of your hand, feather-light. “Are you alright?”

A lump grows in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. “Don’t ask me that.”

“Sorry -” The touch disappears. Before he can move away completely you reach out, fumble for his hand. Grab it, and hold it so tight your hand hurts.

“Stay,” you mumble again.

So Lucius does.

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Don't know if you saw the new argument on the twitter about Erwin not loving Levi and cheating on him in modern AUs but, well, you can headcanon whatever you want, you can write and do whatever you want with these 2 fictional characters but all those dark aus where Erwin just uses and manipulates Levi and doesn't love him actually made some people believe that it's canon. and I know it's silly and childish and petty but I am so tired of all those "look how edgy our ship is" takes on twitter because it mostly damages Erwin's character for me and leads to mischaracterization. I can't even count how many times I saw "Erwin is an asshole who wouldn't think twice before doing [insert something really awful] to Levi and Levi loves him so much he'd let him" AHHHHH

I did see a few tweets about this Anon, though as usual, I didn't see the original tweets that caused the drama in the first place. I can definitely understand your frustration though. I feel it too.

It goes without saying that it's perfectly fine to write characters any way you want. There is nothing wrong with dark AUs and there is no law that says you must adhere to canon. Hell, you don't even have to read or watch the canon if you don't want to. Fanfiction is called transformative work for a reason. The only rule is that there are no rules.

However it can be frustrating when the boundary between fanon and canon starts to blur, particularly if popular fanon characterisation is wildly different from canon and especially if fans start to insist that the fanon version of the character is canon. That kind of thing drives me up the wall.

Erwin is very much a case in point. There's been a bit of a vogue for abusive Erwin fics in recent years and there's a risk that some fans might assume that this is what his canon character is actually like. Which, of course, it very much isn't.

The only thing I can suggest is to keep referring back to canon. The evidence of who Erwin really is all there. If people choose to write versions of his character that you disagree with, just block them and move on. We're lucky that the Eruri fandom is blessed with many talented writers and artists, so my advice would be to find those who stick more closely to canon characterisation, if that's what you prefer.

[fordarkisthesuede]

Heyyy…so, about where I’ve beeeeen… 

I considered doing a silly little poll to have you guess, but... Oh, what the hey! Let's do it!!!

Anyway -

While a lotta y’all had "Brat Summer", I had "Slowly-Being-Consumed-By-Moss" Summer.

And GA summers are real fuckin’ long.

Every year I seem to go through a phase where I decide I’ve had enough of endlessly scrolling through tumblr and feeling bad about not getting things done. Sometimes this is combined with the incredible gloom of coming onto the only social media I partake in and finding nothing but tragic news. Only this time it combined with the very-dreaded Election Season Panic (US version). (Please hold in your derisive laughter.)

Pictured above:  a representation of me, circa…like, April 2024.

I should note the things that I tend to over-use tumblr to avoid aren’t things that have “real” deadlines, but I feel more and more guilty when I don’t do them, or else carve out time to do them. These are usually “replying to messages” and “writing my epic fanfic”, but can even branch out to “making stable diary entries” and the like.

My fellow writers - at least some of you - know what I mean. We clean our living spaces or sort things or bake to avoid writing, because for some reason when we look at the proverbial page our brain nopes out. Sometimes it’s because of the fear we’re not writing well enough for our stuff to actually be liked. Sometimes it’s because we’re veeery stuck with where we’re at and looking at the stupid spot we’re stuck at for the millionth time is exhausting. Sometimes it’s cuz we’re plum outta ideas ‘cause the stars haven’t aligned.

But this past summer was…particularly bad in the writer’s block area. So much so that another fic I was writing from back in February to combat writer’s block with BtTTS: S5 was even getting big ol’ roadblocks! Which is really dumb. It’s mindless self-insert fun for a fandom I’ll probably never write for publicly, yet I’m struggling? WTF.

So most of the summer, I experienced Lethargy. No melancholy, no anger or serious anxiety, no hopelessness or real lack of sleep or feeling over-tired. So not depression, I don’t think, but no real enthusiasm or energy for creative stuff, nor video games for some reason. I went to work, read the news, worked my way through most of a One Piece rewatch, caught up on some manga, and went through a list of movies I had been meaning to see. (Man, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf was wild. You guys see that? De-licious drama. Incredible. I’ll def see it again in like 5 or 10 years.)

I thought about coming back to do a Book of Bill post. I pre-ordered it ages ago. It arrived, I read through it over the span of a few days, I spent time working out most of the puzzles… But I just couldn’t bring up the enthusiasm to do anything for it. It was fun ‘n’ all, but it’s not like a lot of the stuff in there is revolutionary or anything. Besides, by the time I got around to reading the book I already knew all the puzzles were solved and posted online by like day 2 of release or something, because the GF fandom is feral when it comes to puzzles. The Blacklight book was special because of its limited run, and I felt the need to share it so everyone could see. The Bill book you can find in any B&N or e-book store. The thought of typing up anything on it just felt like work.

And THEN…come late July… 

Like ol’ blue eyes lyrics, something came shakin’.

It was like the rubber-band that somehow wound around my brain SNAPPED and went

It wasn't exactly a surprise, yet it was. I've been waiting for like, a decade now. And I finally had means, motive, and opportunity,

It took every single one of my weekends from August to mid-September to find and settle on a place. And then it was every single weekend from then to mid-October to find and store furniture and start packing, all while juggling the UTTER NIGHTMARE that is the mortgage closing process.

Oh, and that hurricane. That certainly didn’t help any. (I'm fine.)

Anywho, that’s why I’ve been hermiting it up. Just been trying to clear my head and get a sense of independence - while I still can -while crafting my own little Ha-Hacienda. And even in light of recent…world-changing events…I’m clinging to my projects with my sharp, sharp nails and my primitive canines, because while the world is clearly always awful I’ve got to enjoy some small slices of life on this absolute bitch of an Earth. Hope I didn’t scare any of ya with my absence. ❤️

P.S. If anyone wants to fill me in on what tumblr-centric and Batman-universe things I missed this past 6 months, the askbox and replies are open. Wrong answers, vague answers, and hieroglyphics accepted, as long as you cite your sources.

[singsweetmelodies]

tagged by lovely @car-bo-hydrate to try this <3333

star sign: virgo

favourite holiday: new year

last meal: a hot mug of tea and some south african buttermilk rusks (comfort food breakfast!!! ❤️☕)

current favourite musician: probably taylor swift, but as always, it's hard to choose just one. OOOH! lately, dove cameron is high up on the list too

last music listened to: confetti (acoustic version) by little mix - LISTEN. ever since ms perrie edwards put out a tease that her solo music is coming soon, i have been on a big little mix high again, listening to all my old favourites and hyping myself up sooooo much for that perrie music drop 👀👀👀😍

last movie watched: my girlfriend and i rewatched shang-chi and the legend of the ten rings again last night for movie night <3 LOVE that movie, omfg. both my gf and i firmly declared all michelle yeoh's scenes our favourites 🤭

last tv show watched: you know, it's actually been really long since i've properly watched a TV show, so the answer to this is probably something silly like reruns of FRIENDS

last book/fic finished: 2 different answers here!! last book was iron flame by rebecca yarros (yes, i caved to all the hype and read it on the plane - yes, there were bits that pissed me off, but i mostly enjoyed it) and last fic was one of AO3 user venerat's landoscar masterpieces, "i'll kiss you first" <3

last book/fic abandoned: hmm... i tried to read this rom-com called "you & me: a mlm single dads romance" while on holiday in SA, and i just... couldn't make it more than 5 chapters in. the cringe (& the VERY american focus of... everything...) was just too much for me, especially because i tried to read this right after a super delightful wlw rom-com recommended to me by darling @duquesademiel. after that, this one just... couldn't compare. at all.

currently reading: well, i'm back to work, so my time for books has unfortunately dropped exponentially... all i'm actively reading rn is a bunch of f1 rpf fics, to be perfectly honest

last thing researched for writing/art/hyperfixation: "WHAT COULD CAUSE A SCANDAL IN THE REGENCY ERA" 🤣🤭

favourite online fandom memory: storytime sundays where we tell those long DM fics with @boxboxbrioche and @welightitup <3333

favourite old fandom you wish would drag you back in/have a resurgence: HMMM! i am mostly over all my old fandoms by now, to be fair, but if i really had to choose one... probably one direction?? because a proper resurgence would mean the reunion, right? (right?) ((so maybe i'm not quite as "over it" as i pretend 🤭))

favourite thing that you enjoyed that never had an active fandom: ohhhh, i can't think of a name immediately now, but it's definitely some or other book series that, if it had a fandom at all, was so tiny that i was practically the only person in it 🥲

tempting project that you're trying to rein in/don't have time for: LISTEN. i have had the most awful writer's block for months, and now that i can finally write again, somewhat, all that i want to write are the things that i should NOT be focusing on rn, because those things don't have deadlines but other things do *charles_wtf discord react*

prime example: about 2838474829 piarles smut WIPs and a/b/o and chussyverse explorations, instead of... my PWFE fic. some belated birthday fics. some celebration fics i promised nearly half a bloody YEAR ago. oops 😭😭 but, we'll get there. we will! just like this will be ferrari's year (i am delulu) xD

no idea who's done this yet and who hasn't, so i'm just going to tag some friends and hope i'm not double-tagging anyone - also, if i miss anyone, please feel free to say i tagged you anyway, because i'd love to see your answers <3 @boxboxbrioche @welightitup @hourcat @teamnick @sedicii @francophones @radiocheck, if any of you feel like giving this a go <3333