#which is like after at least 100k words

[fushitoru]

note how if i have an opinion about something, i'll tag it as discourse? very demure. very mindful. i don't go clogging up x reader tags just so i can gain more exposure and ragebait more people! very cutsey, very modest. i also block people who make content i don't like instead of sending anon hate! very classy. very considerate.

[callmehere-iwillappear]

18k...................

[tacky-optic]

gonna be normal about lupin up top and insane about zeni at the bottom for a sec.

i love when people talk about lupin and Legacy because i. cannot. it eludes me. lupin eludes me. but for the variations of lupin where I and II's ghosts are very much prevalent, yes. simply yes. lupin III earned his rivalry with zenigata.

anyway, zaza man. good god ok one second. im fine im okay im so okay about this

i love thinking about past/transition/present zeni. you made me crack out my list op. my little zenigata timeline list that i made to try and define what the hell he is, or what he could be from special to movie to series. there are SO MANY goddamn depictions of this guy, but this was the easiest way to nail it down for me. inside you there are three zenigatas....

early zeni

- generic noir detective angstlord - tired - one of those total workaholic hardasses. no fun, no chill, ever - not even remotely pleasant to be around. runs solo because getting assigned to be his partner is some sorta Higher Form of Punishment - cruel, cold, calculating, etc etc, to a borderline villainish degree - anger issues because of-- - VERY repressed fellings for lupin. surely that tight little feeling he gets in his chest whenever he sees him must be hatred

mid zeni

- insane - tired - probably subconsciously aware that he's into lupin, but the denial is still off the charts - bombastic? that's a word - actually lets himself be happy! sorta. he's trying but its still kind of a lie - probably the simplest phase imo, if only bc he's going through a wholeass Total Restructuring right under everyone's noses

late zeni

- took over a decade but he actually mellowed out, good for him - tired - calculating in like, a cool unscary way - still has bursts of anger/insanity, just not as intense as early/mid - definitely more amicable/tolerable to be around, both on and off the case - wholly aware he loves lupin in some regard. the guy, the rivalry, the chase, the whatever. he feels love and no longer denies that it is, in fact, love

the basic gist tends to be "he was Miserable and Horrible until he Wasn't." ok ok, to be fair, there is still a degree of fatigue at play here that'd drive most other folks insane. he kinda had to become that little piece of the pie that "most" doesn't cover to compensate, hence why he's still totally miserable, just in a new special edition "indeterminably lupin" flavor (and the extra side of hypercompetency he's adopted that comes with it).

zenigata really did throw everything away for lupin. that's going to fking hurt and we're shown it fking hurts, whether it's played off for laughs or for genuine sympathy, and it's a real and resonant feeling, despite the oddness of its origin. but when presented with the choice between misery within perpetual mediocrity versus self-isolationist misery with the chance of a madcap burst of genuine, bone-deep, near-manic enjoyment here and there, we all know what this guy will end up choosing 100% of the time.

one of my favorites from the untranslated manga was this short storyline where zeni starts out as this mega cliche Serious Noir Detective Guy (from what i can gather the first panel is basically your run-of-the-mill angsty monologue about how crummy the city is) but the literal second lupin's mentioned the entire genre of his life changes.

friendlier art style. genuinely smiling. the japanese roughly translates to "playtime's over". all of that intense shit they just showed him doing?? that's nothing. easy. just another day. but then BAM. LUIPIN. AND HIS LIFE STARTS FROM HERE. HIS LIFE STARTS FROM HERE.

there's no way the more introspective variations of his character don't think about, or at the very least consider it. he doesn't wholly understand everything about himself, but he knows what he is at his core and he knows what feels right and wrong.

the split between then and now probably throws him off. there's totally embarrassment for how he behaves with lupin versus dealing with the aftermath of lupin. imo the distinction between that transition period and now would probably be that he doesn't deny when he gets out of line anymore. takes it more in stride than being all denial-crazed/cagey about it, doesn't try to write it off as entirely lupin's fault. "there's always some softcore justice in there but that was mostly me doing what i wanted to do" he says to some effect in front of the burning dozen-car freeway pileup

but yeah. now this might just be how i interpret "self" in a general sense, but his true self is whatever he is at the present moment y'know? but there's no shot in hell that'd ever cross his mind lmao. nothing's ever so simple and it's alllllll lupin's fault

Sometimes I think about how Zenigata gave up his entire life for Lupin and I feel so full of every nameless emotion. Like… that is such pure love to me.

Imagine living a life where you’re respected by your peers and good at your job and every day when you go to the store the man at the counter knows you not because you’re on tv but because you’re a stand-up guy and a pillar in your local community, and then one day you realise you could have everything and nothing every day forever INSTEAD of a guaranteed regular adequacy all the time and you go, “that works,” because it means that you get to lay eyes on someone you hate to your core and love to your core and feeling everything is better to you than feeling just a little.

I wonder if Zeni lost himself a little in that transition, and how much he ‘found’ once it evened out. I wonder if he’s closer to two selves than one, now. The person he was before Lupin is so disconnected from who he is with Lupin to me. I’m not sure I could pinpoint which one is his ‘true’ self tbh. Also like.

Do you think in the same way Zenigata lost himself— his old self— when he found Lupin, Lupin found himself when he found Zenigata? Because I figure that kind of thing must click into place when, as someone who has spent their entire life feeling like a clone of those before you, suddenly you have a driving force that is all your own. You have a person who never went after your father or your grandfather, you have someone who hears your name and thinks of you and not them and it’s like. Wow I finally have the agency I’ve been craving.

Is that love? I think this is love. Maybe this is what they mean when they talk about how a relationship requires give and take. Sigh.

[cursedhaglette]

Solavellan fic recs please I’m so hungry 🥺🥺

oh I'd love to provide! these have been my personal favorites so far (also fair warning, I am a solavellan fucked in DAI truther and that is reflected in my choices below so your mileage may vary)

Everything by niceasspavus - especially their fic Servitude which is an absolute masterwork. The prose is succinct but spectacular, the smut is excellent and never feels out of place (smut sometimes can with solavellan okay) and they dig into Solas' mind in a really beautiful way. They also started a modern AU fic and while that's not usually my trope at all, I've actually read what they have posted so far like three times because it's so good. Can't wait to see if they grace us with more.

Fellchaser by @rosieofcorona - Okay make that literally anything Darcy touches I recommend but Fellchaser is...I want to plaster my walls with it. The walls of my mind prison at least. The first time I read it, I literally read it five times back to back to back (I was admittedly very high but that's NOT THE POINT) because I was so taken with the prose and every detail. It is absolute perfection, seriously, the only thing wrong with it is that it isn't 100k words

What He Wouldn't Give by sugarhihello - a devastating take what happens immediately after the Crestwood scene we know and hate to love. I'm scared of writers who can make me want more of a scene like that and yet this fic gives me that

The Waiting by say_lene - solavellan thigh riding, need I say more?

Even Gods Need Miracles by callmebecks - A study of Solas' mindset from DAI to now include the DAV ending.

A Field as Wild as Your Heart by lillith_morgana - An exceptional take on the solavellan ending/post-DAV with gorgeous prose

Dreadful Recollections by @scaryanneee - if you know me from the bg3 era at all, you know Think of Me is a smut of all time so scaryanne joining us in solavellan hell has been SO FUN (for me personally at least eheheh) This little smut is so brilliant because it truly gave me so many ideas to play with for my own ship during this time period while also being so hot??? Also just read the tags on this and you know you're in for a great time

Handle With Care by feynite - I'm sure you've seen feynite if you've looked at solavellan fics because Looking Glass is the biggest one but I think this is just a really excellent little fic of theirs. Sad AND sexy - what every Solas fan is looking for I think

solavellan moots, please feel free to add on - I'm always looking for more and I'm sure others are too! anon - hope this gave you some tasty morsels and feel free to come back if you need more! xoxox

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (xi)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, ghosts,

A/N: hai. we're into the double digits. thanks for sticking around this long!! jsyk there are like 17 parts planned to this series so

Previous part || Series masterlist

This is a dream scenario.

It’s the weekend, which means he should be out somewhere fighting off bats in a haunted cave or sitting in a dark room muttering Bloody Mary’s name fifteen times like a broken tape recorder because you insisted the first three didn’t work.

Instead, by 5 p.m., he’s in bed. With a book. There’s even a cup of coffee sitting beside him, growing cold. 

Really, he should be enjoying this. It’s rarely this quiet, and especially as the sun went down, the absence of your shenanigans, the lack of you dragging him into another bullshit horror hunt should be greatly freeing. 

But something feels wrong.

Because something went wrong in his childhood, and then something very definitely went wrong in his adulthood, Bucky feels uneasy with the peace.

He turns a page. At least, he thinks he does. He’s not sure he’s actually read a single word. Gun to his head, he would not be able to tell you the plot.

By 6 p.m., his eyes have zeroed in more on the door than the actual book in his hands.

His phone is on full volume, waiting for a notification. He made sure his floor access was open. His windows are not blacked out. He has even left his door cracked open slightly, which feels wrong to the fundamental fibres of his being. 

Nothing.

By 6:30 p.m., his coffee is still half full and lukewarm. God, he did not like that drink. The only thing he's done is flipped through pages for the sake of feeling like he’s accomplished something.

By 6:37 p.m., he’s out the door.

His grumbling is only half-hearted, which he hates. There is something much heavier that sits in his chest. Anticipation. Worry. Fucking blergh. 

He’s never been on your floor before. He knows you share it with Nat, the way he does with Steve, but he's never actually visited it. Sure he regularly makes sure you're dropped off to your floor now , but he hasn't actually stepped foot there, no matter how much you invite him in to your bedroom.

He assumes it’s similar, just with fewer World War II relics and less The Price Is Right. 

By 6:45 p.m., he’s knocking loudly on your door.

There’s no answer.

His jaw tightens.  

He wouldn’t blame you if you had just upped and left. He just thought Maya would beat you to it, because the second the article dropped, it was like the Avengers personally made it their mission to have the next week become a shitstorm of them making headlines for the most insane things. He thinks she's on sick leave. Or she should be, at least.

Clint posted a picture from inside a JP Morgan bank vault. Nat walked straight into a national live broadcast and joined in on a debate she had no context to. 

Sam did something. Bucky wasn't sure, but he saw Maya rubbing her temples and assumed it was bad.

Then, after Steve gets in an argument online and matches donations to Planned Parenthood and ends up donating nearly 100K, Maya declared a state of emergency. 

Every single one of them was put on lockdown, all social media passwords were changed, and every future press interview was canceled.

Bucky never even got the chance to plan what his disaster would be.

But even after all that, he had heard from you. Big, congratulatory messages flooding the group chat. Dumb memes. Responses to inside jokes no one else understood.

So where the hell were you now?

He bangs his fist against the door again.

Nothing.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. He raises his metal hand, just one second away from really turning the door into a pile of splinters-

It swings open before he gets the chance.

And there you are, staring at him like he’s the crazy one. The audacity. 

“Wha– oh.” You blink at him. “Why are you trying to break into my room?”

For a moment, it is just two idiots staring at each other.

Finally, he lets out a low, “What’s wrong with you?”

You raise a brow. “Could you be more specific?”

Only then does he really look at you.

The skin under your eyes is darker than usual, your arms crossed tightly over your oversized sweatshirt. Official Avengers merch, two sizes too big and the same colour you got him because you insisted you had to have matching fits. There’s a slump in your shoulders that wasn't there before.

“No video today?” he asks gruffly.

“Nah,” you sigh. “You’re free to do whatever.”

He stares.

You stare back.

“What?” you demand.

“Is this because of the news?” he asks slowly.

“I’m just tired, Buck.” You rub at your temple, like you're already exhausted with the conversation. “Haven’t I annoyed you enough this week?”

Logically, he should be happy about this. You did annoy him. Constantly. Every day. Even off the clock.

So why the hell is he still standing outside your door?

“Don’t you have something better to do?” you ask, leaning against the doorway. “I thought you were watching True Detective with Steve.”

“Dunno where he is,” Bucky mumbles. Which is a lie, because Steve was very much in his room, waiting for him but Bucky had ghosted him to instead come be a clown outside your door. 

You squint at him. “What are you doing here?”

He shifts his weight. “Thought you were dead.”

A snort escapes you before you can stop it. “Why? ‘Cause I didn’t come knocking today?”

He doesn’t respond.

Your jaw drops slightly. “Wait. You came looking for me because you missed me?”

“I didn’t–” he starts, then immediately gives up halfway through the sentence because he already knows he’s lost.

Your grin is too smug. “You came all this way because you missed me.”

His entire body tenses. “I just came to check.”

You press your lips into a thin line, fighting back laughter. “That is so cute. Just say you’re in love with me. I’ll even kiss ya if you ask nicely.”

Bucky turns immediately on his heel. “Goodbye. You can die now.”

You laugh outright at that, and he shakes his head as he stalks back down the hall. Which is good. Which means things are back to normal. He can go find Steve and get done with the stupid fucking vampire show or whatever--

“Actually--” your voice calls out behind him. “D’you wanna come in?”

His body actually stops.  Turns back slightly, warily asking over his shoulder, “…Why?”

You shrug, leaning against the doorframe. “No pressure. I was just gonna watch old conspiracy theories and figure out whether they’re legit or just old Avengers missions. You can sit in the corner and brood or whatever it is you do.”

“I do not brood,” Bucky says, brooding. 

“Sure, buttercup.” You wave dismissively. “See you next week, then.”

Bucky stares for a second longer, then pivots.

Then pivots again.

Finally, with a deep sigh, he walks back toward your door.

Bucky doesn’t expect your room to look like his room. His room, by standards, was the second worst room in the Tower, only second to Clint’s fucking swamp dungeon. 

But he also doesn’t expect it to look like this.

It’s too empty.

A bed, a desk, a laptop. A single, half-empty mug on the nightstand.

The only thing that makes it yours is the box shoved in the corner overflowing with fan mail, little gifts, and trinkets from people. Stickers, keychains, neatly folded letters– even a framed cross-stitch that says "if we die, we die together."

Which he doesn’t remember you saying, but sounds exactly like something you would. The thought makes his chest feel weird. 

But beyond that, it looks like a room doesn’t require much time to be packed up.

Something about that sits wrong with him.

“You’ve done a lot with the place.”

“Finally get you into my bedroom, and the first thing you do is insult my interior design,” you say. You gesture at the lamp on your desk. “Look at that lamp. I got it from the same trashcan I found Alpine in. It’s got character.”

Bucky squints at the lamp. Now that you mention it, the shade is bent at a weird angle and the base is slightly burnt.

“Really livens up the space,” he tells you.

“Thanks, I try.”

You flop onto the bed, stretching your arms overhead with a sigh. 

He hesitates for a beat before finally settling onto the floor, knees pulled to his chest.

You blink. “Why the hell are you sitting on my floor?”

“I’m comfortable,” he grumbles.

“You– I have chairs.” You gesture to them. “They’re free, I swear. You do not have to do this.”

“I’m good.”

You narrow your eyes, but let it go, shifting to sit near the edge of the bed. Your knee almost bumps his shoulder.

For a moment, there’s just the hum of your laptop, the faint flicker of the TV waiting on a selection screen.

“How are ya?” he asks, voice lower than usual.

“Mighty fine. You?”

He gives you a look.

You blow out a breath, arms crossing loosely over your stomach. “I’m fine.”

“Then why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you haven’t slept in a week.”

Your lips curve up in the corners. “We can change that. Wanna sleep with me now?”

Bucky doesn’t react. At all.

Which is worse. Because he should roll his eyes. Should scoff. Should grumble some insult under his breath.

But he doesn’t. Your smirk falters slightly.

You clear your throat. “God, you’re no fun.”

“Why’d you call off the video shoot?”

“Why must I work all the time? Why can’t I take a simple break without being interrogated?”

He just keeps looking at you. It’s that new kind you’ve noticed him doing now. The kind that lingers half a second too long, that feels heavier than it should.

You shift. Rub at the edge of your sleeve.

“It’s…” You hesitate. “Not been the best week.”

Bucky adjusts how he sits. He doesn’t doesn’t dig, only keeps his eyes trained on you. 

You take a deep breath, then force a grin. “Been watching Glee compilations till, like, 1 a.m. Pretty sure that’s the real issue.” 

Bucky makes a low, unimpressed noise. Still, he lets it go—for now.

Instead, he asks, “So what’s your plan?”

You blink. “Huh?”

“For making yourself feel better.”

That makes you pause. What’s the plan? Like he’s already factored himself in, as if whatever comes next includes him.

You open your mouth, then shut it.

“Paranormal shit.”

You weren’t even thinking about it. It just… happened, probably because he’s here and it’s the subconscious working in mysterious ways. 

But Bucky’s reaction is not what you expect.

He does not shut it down instantly. Call it nonsense. Leave the room. All of which he has done before, to varying degrees.

Instead now he looks at you like he’s used to it. Like he’s thinking about it.

Something in your stomach tightens. You beat it down with a stick. 

You grin. “Oh, you want to.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He exhales sharply through his nose. “What paranormal shit?” 

“Well, I don’t know. I didn’t expect you to agree.”

“I didn’t agree.”

“You told me so with your eyes. You gave me signals.”

“You’re insane,” he mutters. "I did not give you signals."

But you suddenly perk up like it’s given you an idea. 

“What?” he demands.  

“You ever talked to ghosts?”

Kinda.

“No.”

“Well, that’s what we’re doing today.”

“What?”

“Ouija time, baby,” you say, already moving towards the box in the corner. “Now I don’t have a board but fear not. I shall make one. Custom-built. And then we will auction it off for a lot of money when you fake your death.”

“Why do you already sound like you’re prepared for that?”

“Because I am.” You rummage through the box. “Let’s see. We’ll need a marker, some cardboard–”

“You got a ring we can use?” he asks with a sigh.

“No, ‘cause you haven’t put one on me yet.” 

Bucky shuts up after that. 

You grin, pulling out a shot glass and wiggling it between your fingers. “Classy, right?”

Bucky stares at it. “Has that been used before?”

“Any remnants are just a little treat for the ghosties” you reply, flopping onto the floor and immediately getting to work, drawing out letters in marker.

Bucky watches you, something unreadable flickering across his face.

This is so fucking stupid.

Still, all he does is shifts to sit properly, arms crossed over his chest, watching as you finish drawing out the board with little squiggles decorating the corner and everything. 

He doesn’t even realize how close he’s leaning until you glance at him, something teasing and careful in your gaze.

And for a second– just a second- maybe he forgets how to breathe.

Then you smirk, knocking him right out of it. 

“Alright, soldier,” you say, grinning. “You ready?”

Bucky gives you a flat look.

The room is quiet, except for the hum of the TV and the scritch-scratch as you add in finishing touches. 

You hold up the board.

It’s terrible.

The letters are uneven and the numbers are already smudged from where you’ve dragged your sleeve over them.

You sit back, admiring your work, before grabbing the shot glass and plopping it in the center.

You nod solemnly. “It’s ready. Now put your hands on the planchette.”

Bucky sighs deeply, metal fingertips touching the top of the glass.  

You clear your throat dramatically. “Spirits, if you are here, make yourselves known.”

Silence.

Bucky nods. “Guess that’s our answer–”

The shot glass suddenly shoots out.

His muscles tighten immediately. His fingers twitch like he’s ready to grab a knife out of thin fucking air.

You, however, fail miserably in hiding a grin.

Bucky’s eyes narrow immediately. “You’re pushing it.”

“I am not,” you lie.

He stares.  

“…Okay, maybe a little.”

Bucky groans, dragging a hand over his face. “I cannot believe I am wasting my night on this.”

“You’re just mad that the ghosts like me more.”

Bucky does not dignify that with a response.

“Put your hands back there, boy.”

So he reluctantly places his fingers back on the shot glass.

You clear your throat again.

“Oh great and powerful spirits, what secrets do you have for us?”

Silence.

Bucky watches unamused, watching as the letters spell out in lightning fast speed:

Y - O - U - R - 

A pause.

M - O -M.

Bucky lifts his hands and leans back.

“That’s the ghosts talking, not me.”

Bucky just sits there, silent.

You wiggle your fingers dramatically over the board. “Maybe you’re the problem. Maybe the ghosts just don’t like you.”

Bucky snorts, “Right. I’m the problem here, not the fool who used a shot glass to talk to them.”

“The shot glass is genius, alcohol is an ice breaker in most social situation."

"What about this is a social situation?"

"Well it's you, me, and a couple of babes from the underworld. By definition it's a social situation, and a cool one at that."

“Why aren’t your ghosts talkng to us then?”

“Maybe they’re ageist.”

Bucky glares at you.

“You’re practically ancient. Maybe they just hate old people.”

“Maybe if I was a centuries-old spirit and the first thing I heard from the afterlife was your voice, I’d go straight back to hell.”

Your mouth falls open, before you let out an outraged scoff.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from–”

You stop mid-sentence when Bucky shifts, leaning back slightly, arms stretched behind him, his body loose and relaxed. 

There’s a stupid smile ghosting at his mouth. 

“Oh my God.” You latch onto it instantly. “You’re enjoying this.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

The sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up just enough to expose the solid cut of his forearms, the angle of his jaw sharp against the dim glow of your terrible table lamp. 

His expression is too neutral, too blank. Like he’s waiting for you to react.

Something about it catches you off guard. It’s not intentional. It’s not even anything. But your stomach tightens anyway.

And suddenly, you’re aware of how close you’re sitting, how he feels bigger in the small space, how there’s this awful, annoying sense of recognition curling at the edges of something you’re not ready to name.

Bucky notices the way your expression shifts even if it was just for a second, his eyebrows knitting together. 

You clear your throat immediately. “Anyway. Let’s ask them something real.”

“Oh, now we’re asking real questions?”

“Spirits!” You slap your hands onto the board. “What is Bucky’s deepest, darkest secret?”

He rolls his eyes.

The shot glass has not moved in half an hour.

It’s honestly humiliating at this point.

You refuse to acknowledge this.

Bucky, however, has fully accepted it.

“So what now?” he asks, leaning back against your bed, fingers drumming idly against his knee.

You stare at the board. “Maybe it’s a slow connection.”

Bucky blinks. “Slow how?”

“Like two bars, not four?”

“You think ghosts have bad WiFi?”

“I don’t know, Bucky, I’ve never died before.”

“I have. WiFi’s not the issue.”

You shove his shoulder. 

Bucky’s stupid smirk does not fade. 

 “Can we pack this up, or are you going to keep going until your humiliation kink ends?"

"I see you've been thinking about me and kinks in--."

"Stop talking."

You narrow your eyes at him, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like ‘fascist’, but place your fingers on the shot glass.

Bucky does the same.

You inhale deeply. “Spirits, is there anything you would like to say to us?”

Silence.

“Maybe they don’t know English.”

“Sure.”

“Should we try Morse code?”

“No.”

You hum, ignoring him. “What about—”

“Hey spirits. What’s the real reason why this one’s hiding from everyone?” Bucky cuts in smoothly.

It just slips out.

He looks as surprised as you do, but he recovers way quicker. 

He keeps his eyes on the board, like maybe if he doesn’t make a big deal out of it, it won’t become a big deal.

The shot glass doesn’t move. Of course. 

But you pull your hands away first.

Bucky watches, quietly, as you sit back, pressing your palms against your thighs.

“That’s a dumb question,” you mutter.

Bucky hums. “Yeah?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “Yeah.”

A beat.

You force a grin and shove the Ouija board aside.

“Well,” you announce. “That was disappointing.”

He stretches his arms over his head, not looking at you as he says, “You’re avoiding.”

You pause mid-movement. “Avoiding what?”

“You know.”

You freeze for just half a second, then shake your head, laughing awkwardly. “I haven’t–”

“You have,” he says simply.

It’s the certainty in his voice. Like he already knows the answer, and he’s just waiting for you to say it out loud.

You sigh. “It’s stupid.”

Bucky shrugs, looking back at the board. “Not what I asked.”

A moment passes.

“It’s the name thing,” you say finally, voice flat.

“The name thing?”

“Maya’s trying to relaunch me. Or, like, reintroduce me. Whatever.” You wave a hand. “She’s planning this whole… thing. New identity, new codename, new brand. Something public-friendly.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything.

“She’s just doing her job,” you say quickly, like you’re cutting him off before he can say anything reasonable. “I get it. I do. But it pisses me off.”

Bucky hums. “Why?”

“It’s dumb,” you mutter, kicking at a loose thread in the carpet. “I shouldn’t care this much. But now, instead of just letting me deal with it, I have to make it a thing. I have to let everyone see me deal with it. They want me to launch like I’m some new product. Like they get to decide what version of me gets to exist.”

Bucky is silent for a long second.

Not because he doesn’t get it, but because he does.

Finally, after a while, he leans back slightly, “So what do you wanna do?”

You blink. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know? Or you just don’t like your options?”

Your mouth presses into a thin line.

Because hes right-- it’s not that you don’t know what to do. Stay silent? People fill in the gaps themselves. Let Maya spin it? You become someone else’s project. Reject it outright? You’re the problem.

It’s not even a big deal. It’s just a name. A stupid PR campaign. But every option feels like losing. Like a trap.

You exhale. “I just don’t wanna think about it right now.”

Bucky nods. Like that answer’s good enough.

And for some reason, that makes your shoulders loosen a little.

For the first time all week, it feels like someone actually heard you.

You shift, stretching your arms dramatically. “Anyway. That’s my tragic backstory.”

Bucky exhales sharply. “More tragic things have happened to you.”

“Yeah, like some blue-eyed Avenger-boy not asking me out.”

“No.”

“Let me have my moment.”

A silence rests lightly. 

“Alright,” he mutters. “What dumb shit are we doing next?”

“I don’t know. You want pizza?”

“I meant about your situation.”

You sigh, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Nothing. It’s fine. It’s not like I have a choice, anyway.”

Well that’s not entirely true. 

It’s an idea that creeps up a little too fast. It makes him worry about how much influence you’ve actually had on him. 

Bucky hums. “You’ve got one more option.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He tilts his head, casual, almost lazy. “Yeah.”

When he finally tells you, your entire expression changes.

Slowly, deliberately, a grin spreads across your face.

“Oh,” you say, “you are evil.”

Bucky just leans back on his hands, completely at ease. “I had nothing to do with this.”

Twenty minutes later, the board is still on the floor. 

The shot glass is still doing absolutely nothing.

You and Bucky are back to arguing over whether or not ghosts have good taste in movies when your phone explodes with a call.

You barely have time to read the caller ID before--

“You released a fucking internet poll?!” Maya’s voice bursts through the speaker, loud and borderline hysterical– but not in a bad way.

Bucky immediately presses his lips together, suppressing a smirk.

You, however, grin like a criminal.

“Define released,” you say, like this is the most casual thing in the world.

“Oh, you know exactly what you did.”

“I do,” you agree easily. “But I like hearing you say it.”

Maya groans. “You put your entire name change up for a public vote.”

Bucky coughs into his hand.

You tilt your head. “And?”

“And?!” Maya lets out a breath, “They're all chaotic fucking names and the poll already has two hundred thousand votes.”

Bucky immediately stares at you.

You blink, turning to look at him dramatically. 

“Two hundred thousand?” you repeat, voice too calm.

Bucky raises an eyebrow.

You grin.

“Oh, I’m so famous.”

Bucky groans, while Maya is losing her mind on the other end.

“Oh my God,” she mutters. “Why are you like this.”

You shrug, flipping onto your back, staring at the ceiling. “I would say I was born this way but I was created. In a test tube and everything.”

Maya scoffs.

And Bucky, for some reason, has a look on this face, like he’s enjoying this more than he should.

Then, after a second, he mouths, “Have an actual conversation.”

You roll your eyes but tilt your head back toward the phone.

“Alright, fine,” you sigh. “Lemme step out. Yell at me in private.”

Maya exhales. “It’s not yelling.”

“It’s a little yelling.”

You roll onto your feet, shuffling toward the door

“Back in a sec,” you tell him.

Bucky just nods, watching as you disappear into the hallway.

And just like that he’s alone. Sitting on the floor. Next to a completely useless Ouija board.

And he doesn’t know why, but his fingers twitch.

Not because he believes in it. Not because he thinks it’ll work. 

But… just because. 

Instead, he just shakes his head, rolling his shoulders back. 

“You’re losing it, Barnes,” he mutters under his breath.

But then, without warning-

The shot glass moves.

Bucky immediately stiffens, staring at the door but you’re still having an animated conversation with Maya, fingers pressed into your forehead. 

Bucky’s gaze drags back to the board. 

He doesn’t move an inch. Doesn’t even breathe.

Just watches as the glass drags itself across the board, slow and deliberate.

One letter.

Then another.

J.

Bucky’s jaw tightens.

A.

His stomach twists.

Then–

M.

And the shot glass tips over. 

His heart stops.

And suddenly, he’s not in your room anymore.

He’s eight years old, sitting on the floor of a Brooklyn apartment, scribbling nonsense into a notebook while Rebecca Barnes, all of six years old, with messy braids and jelly-covered fingers, sticks a homemade label on his lunchbox.

“Becca.”

“What?”

“That’s not how you spell James.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

Bucky presses a hand against his face. “Mom—”

 He blinks.

The board is in front of him again.

The shot glass is still. He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at it.

His head feels weirdly light. His chest feels too tight.

The door clicks shut behind you, and Bucky keeps still, in a way that says nothing happened.

Because if he doesn’t deal with it now, then it isn’t real. And if it isn’t real, then he doesn’t have to think about it.

You flop onto the bed, letting out a long, theatrical sigh.

“Well,” you exhale, dragging the word out. “That was a wild experience.”

Bucky registers the words, but not the meaning.

It’s like he hears you, but the sound is coming through the wrong frequency.

“Yeah?” he mutters, barely processing it.

The sound of your voice fills the space, but it doesn’t quite pull him in.

“Oh, yeah.” You roll onto your stomach, kicking your feet behind you. “First, she yelled at me. Then she was impressed, which honestly I think pissed her off more.”

Bucky nods. Because that’s what he’s supposed to do.

You’re still talking. That should ground him.

And yet his mind is somewhere else entirely.

The air feels off. Like the word JAM is still written in front of him.

“--already drafting apology emails before I even hung up.”

Bucky blinks once, twice.

He knows he should be engaged, responding, moving.

But instead, he just mutters, “Yeah.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

Bucky blinks. Finally, he fully snaps back.

His eyes flick toward you, registering you properly for the first time.

The way you’re watching him now, eyebrows raised, like you’ve been waiting for him to catch up.

He searches for the last thing you said.

Finds nothing.

Shit.

You press a hand to your chest, looking deeply entertained. “Are you ignoring me?”

Bucky scoffs. “Not right now specifically.”

“What was the last thing I said?”

Bucky opens his mouth. Then closes it. 

“Wow. Incredible.” You clap your hands together once. “I’m heartbroken. Betrayed. Ignored.”

Bucky shakes his head, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah this must be what he felt like."

"Wow."

"No, no, it’s fine.” You wave a hand, mock casual. “I’ll just go die then.”

Bucky groans. “I’m back.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Because if you need to space out again, just know that I have an open window–”

Bucky balls-up the ouija board and tosses it at your head.

You shriek.

He’ll think about it later.

Whenever later is. 

The laptop screen flickers in the dim room, casting weird shadows against the wall.

You and Bucky are back on the floor, legs stretched out, backs leaning against the bed, watching one of the most ridiculous conspiracy theory videos you’ve ever seen.

The narrator speaks with the conviction of a man who has nothing to lose.

“--and that’s why I’m telling you, there’s no way the Pentagon incident was just a gas leak. Witnesses reported a mysterious figure in black who allegedly disappeared into the shadows–”

“That was Nat.”

You pause the video. “What.”

Bucky doesn’t even look away from the screen.

He gestures lazily toward the blurry figure circled in red.

“That’s her. Right before she cut the power and knocked out two guards. The whole thing took, like, a minute.”

You stare at him.

Then at the screen.

Then at him again.

“I fucking knew it.” You gesture vaguely at the screen. “I called this years ago. Everyone told me I was an idiot. ‘Oh, the footage is too blurry, you can’t even tell if it’s a person.’ Amateurs.”

“Feel validated?”

“Oh, hugely.”

He shakes his head, amused.

You squint at the screen. “What else? What’s real, what’s bullshit?”

Bucky thinks for a second.

He points to another clip.

“Alright, see this?”

A new segment starts playing, showing grainy footage of someone scaling the side of a high-security building.

The narrator’s voice kicks in again. “--but the real question is, who was this shadowy figure? And how did they evade detection when–”

“That’s me.”

You blink.

Bucky nods. “Stockholm. 2012. Whole mission went sideways, had to improvise.”

You exhale, pressing a hand over your face.

“Oh, my God.”

Bucky smirks. “Something wrong?”

“You’re telling me that a significant percentage of government cover-ups are just you and Nat running errands?”

Bucky shrugs. “I wouldn’t call them errands.”

“What would you call them, then?”

He thinks about it for a second.  

“Side quests.”

You nod slowly.

“Right,” you say. “Of course. Are the lizard people real?”

Bucky huffs a short laugh. “I’m not answering that.”

“Wow. Interesting.” You stroke your chin. “You didn’t say no.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. You grin.

The videos keep playing, but neither of you are really watching anymore.

The narrator is still droning on, something about classified operations and shadow governments, but the energy has shifted.

Your eyes feel a little heavier now.

Bucky can tell.

You’ve stopped fidgeting, stopped making comments, stopped cracking jokes at his expense.

You’re just there, leaning into his side, slowly sinking deeper into the moment.

He exhales, tilting his head back against the bed, letting himself relax, too.

The silence between you is comfortable. Easy.

And before he fully registers it, your head is in his lap.

Bucky freezes.

It happens so smoothly that for a second, he wonders if you even realize what you did.

You don’t say anything.

Just curl up slightly, tucking your arms under your head, pressing your cheek against his thigh like it’s nothing.

Like this is normal.

Bucky forces himself to breathe.

To not react too much.

To not make it something. Because it’s not.

Right.

The glow from the laptop screen flickers, illuminating the soft edges of your face.

Something in Bucky’s chest tugs.

You sigh, voice quiet, almost lazy.

“Thanks for hanging out with me,” you murmur. “I needed that.”

Bucky swallows.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles.

And then before he can think too hard about it, his fingers brush lightly over your scalp.

A small, absentminded gesture.

Barely there.

But you don’t move.

Just breathe slower. Sink deeper.

Bucky knows he’s going to regret this later. His back is already complaining, his brain is already filing this away for future analysis.

But you look too at ease to move.

So he stays right there.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to those who comment and tell me what u think-- i love u. ur the sole reason i haven't abandoned this lil fic. thank u for everything mwah <333333

Next chapter

to know when this fic updates, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications! it's the only way tumblr will let me have a taglist and i don't post there at all except for fics </3

[elumish]

My Experience With Digital-First Royalty-Only Publishing (Part 1)

Disclaimer: this is just my experience and my not reflect everyone's experience with this story of publishing.

The Concept:

The are two major distinct components of this sort of publishing: that it's digital first and royalty only. Digital first means that their primary business model is based in selling ebooks rather than physical boks. They don't sell in brick-and-mortar stores, but for my publisher, at least, you can buy physical copies of the books, which are made to order. Royalty only means that authors aren't paid an advance for the book. Instead, all of their payment is directly from royalties, which they start getting paid immediately (as opposed to needing to earn the advance before you get paid any royalties). Generally, these royalties are higher than for traditional publishers.

This is considered indie publishing, as opposed to traditional publishing through one of the Big Five (Penguin Random House, Hachette, HarperCollins, Simon & Schuster, Macmillan). I have basically only seen this for romance publishers, though there may be others that I haven't seen.

This is not vanity publishing--I don't pay my publisher, they pay me.

My Publishing Story:

In 2023, I wrote 10k words of a new story in three days, mostly on my phone. After a bit of random internet hunting, I decided to send it in to the publisher with a series plan for another three short pieces (10-15k words) that would together make one full story. A couple months later, they responded and asked if I would make it a full novel and also write another two in the same series. I agreed.

In April 2024, the book was released.

The Submission Process:

A number of digital first romance publishers (including those that give advances, like Harlequin) accept both agented and unagented submissions. That means that you don't need to already have an agent to submit to them, as opposed to most more traditional publishing companies, which only accept agented submissions.

Pro: lower barrier to entry, you get to avoid the querying process

Con: you have to advocate for yourself

Every publisher has a different submission process and different guidelines--some have broad word/topic guidelines and anything within that is fair game, some have specific calls for stories (e.g., we want stories of 30-80k words about billionaires), some have specific imprints or subgenres with different guidelines (e.g., historical romance for 50-80k words, fantasy romance for 60-100k words).

Generally they also request a summary, an equivalent of a query letter, and sometimes also some verion of a series plan.

The Contract:

Probably my biggest issue with working with this publisher was the contract. After a bunch of back and forth after they sent me the contract, they told me that they don't negotiate their contracts with unagented authors.

This is a sort of nuts line to draw, and to be totally honest I almost decided not to publish with them because of it. It would be totally reasonable for you to not publish with anyone who has that policy.

Ultimately, I decided to still publish with them for three reasons: 1) I did a lot of internet sleuthing and couldn't find anyone talking about issues with working with the publisher any time in the last decade, 2) I was comfortable enough with the contract terms to agree to them, and 3) the book is a niche enough subgenre that there's basically no chance I would get it published elsewhere.

If it was a different book or I was in a different stage in my career, I might have made a different decision.

Editing:

The editing I received was primarily copyediting rather than developmental editing. There was a little bit of developmental editing, but the vast majority was copyediting. I'm not so arrogant as to think that that's because my writing is just so perfect that it didn't need developmental editing.

There were ~3 rounds of editing that I went through with my editor. She would make a combination of edits in track changes and comments, and i would either accept, reject, or change. There were some things I rejected because they were intentional stylistic choices, and there were some things I accepted even if I didn't love them because they were part of the publisher's style guide. Everything else was a negotiation.

Overall, I didn't give in to something that I hated, and I don't think my writing suffered for the editing. There are choices that I wouldn't have made, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm right.

Part 2 will include marketing, payment, and my path forward in publishing

[amtrak12]

After a conversation with a friend about this weird trend of fic readers who only want epic length fics (and also what seems to be a massive misunderstanding between parties on terms and their definitions), I went searching for the fandom sources I cut my teeth on. I don't have much bookmarked from those days anymore, but googling got me to this fiction length/terminology breakdown from a Livejournal blog. (Which also has good fandom definitions for other terms like A/N and fanon too, so if you're super new to fandom, go check that out.)

The definitions come from the publishing world (hence the page counts), but fandom and fanfic has always borrowed heavily from official publishing terminology. Flash fiction (aka, anything less than 1k words) is called a 'ficlet' within fandom. We call everything else a fic until it reaches the novella mark -- which may start at 20k words but as synecdochic breaks down on their Dreamwidth blog, there's a lot of overlap between short stories and novella word counts. Because, when you're not constrained by physical page counts, the real dividing line between short stories and novellas are the number of plots and themes you're using. (Seriously, go read their meta on this topic. It's fantastic!) Either way, once you're hitting tens of thousands of words, you're in longfic territory. And then if your fic is even longer than that -- 100k+ like shown in the screenshot above -- it's called an epic fic.

And these terms, longfic and epic, are important because they're used to differentiate these stories from the average fic. Because, at least in the 2000s up until the 2020s, the most common fic lengths you ran into were between 1k-20k words. "Fic" made the reader assume only a few thousand words at most. It's only when you changed the term to drabble or ficlet or longfic that they would realize 'oh this is going to be shorter or longer than normal'.

I don't really understand why that baseline assumption has changed amongst the newer demographics (and maybe amongst some long-running fandom members too?). I've seen a lot of theories and 'tiktokification' complaints, but I honestly don't know what's true. And I don't want to start a fight or even try to change anyone's minds if they are dead set against reading short story length fics. You can do what you want!

Just maybe shift your attitude about it a little bit? Remember that it's a personal preference the same way tropes are, and that one story length isn't better than another. Just like tropes, each story length serves its purpose. Some stories are best told in 1-2k words. Some are best told as 100 word drabbles -- or even a single sentence! And then, yes, some stories do need to be 100k+ in order to be told properly.

But that's not every story. And it shouldn't be expected of fic writers to pad a 1500 word plot into some sprawling epic just because they left it on a cliffhanger. The cliffhanger is probably the point of that fic! Short stories are an entirely separate art form to novels and as such are able to cover different topics than novels can or cover the same topics differently. And that's what makes them special!!

And look at that word count breakdown by genre! That's mainstream publishing standards! Now, go back up there to the definition of a novel and notice that the average published novel is 80k words long.

Let me repeat that:

The average length of a published novel is 80,000 words long.

Could a novel go longer? Sure! And if you're dipping into adult sci-fi or fantasy, absolutely it will be longer! But does your fic need to be longer than the average novel in order to be good? In order for you to feel satisfied when you finish reading it? Why does the length of the fic matter more to you than the content?

idk just some rambling food for thought, but I guess too long, don't read:

~✨~ Every story length is valid ~✨~

It just depends on the plot you have and the structure you want to use to tell it.

[madlori]

I'm asking this to you because you're the only person I know who's been around fandoms for so long — do you find this shipping-situation weird? I've been in many fandoms but I've never really seen this insistence on there being only one acceptable ship for a character and encouraging the idea that anything other than the norm is almost sacrilegious. Almost every big fandom over the years have had multiple conflicting pairings, take for example, Marvel. Even works of media that have a canon romantic pairing have had fans who ship others with the leads (that was what shipping was tbh) and no one has ever shown up to their doorsteps with pitchforks in hand, at least not that I'm aware of. So I guess I'd really like your opinion on why you think this is happening now? Have things always been this way, just not in plain sight? Is this just the new fandom culture that is developing now with the influx of younger people? Or is this fandom an aberration where a group of people are so used to being the majority that they simply aren't taking well to things not going their way?

I've been thinking about this today, and I'm still not sure what I think.

I've been in fandoms with a hugely dominant ship before. I've been in fandoms that had ship wars. I've been in fandoms with a lot of peacefully co-existing ships. I'm not sure this fandom is really all that different. To answer your first question, no, I don't find it all that weird. In fact I sort of expected it.

Let me tell you a story about the Brokeback Mountain fandom, which managed to have a ship war despite having really only one ship, the canon ship. So BBM fic fell into several broad categories, the biggest of which were fix-the-ending/canon divergence fics and the straight-up AU fics (I wrote one of each, lol). Post-canon fics weren't as common, because you had to deal with one half of the canon pairing being...well, dead.

There was a post-canon fic that gained a lot of fans...and when I say "fic" that's really an understatement. It was a SAGA, and I don't use that term lightly. It was a series of like...6 or 7 epic 100K+ word fics and it was over a million words total. The author would put out more than one 5K chapters per DAY. I'm still in awe of this woman's output. But it was the content that created the issue.

(Brief recap for those who have not seen BBM - two ranch hands in the 1960s, Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal) spend a season herding sheep together, have sex, form a bond, then separate to go about their expected hetero lives but get together for fishing trips every year or so to have sex and spend time together. Jack wants more, Ennis is terrified. Both marry and have families. Eventually Jack dies in what is implied to be a gay-bashing but who knows, and Ennis makes his peace with the love he'd felt for him)

The saga picked up a couple of years after the film's events. Ennis decides to tentatively explore what being queer means, goes to Laramie, finds a gay bar, and very cautiously enters. Through a Series of Events he gets mixed up in an assault there and befriends a local sheriff's deputy, who is also gay. They begin a relationship.

Now, this series was COMPLEX. A huge cast of characters, a long and thorough evolution of this relationship, a lot of angst over Jack's memory, and it really worked for a LOT of readers. The new love interest she created was a really great character.

For others...it did not work and they hated it.

The animosity between fans who loved this saga and those that did not grew pretty heated. This was like '05 so there was no twitter or tumblr, this was all on LJ and dedicated fandom forums (some of which banned discussion of this fic for this reason), but there was doxxing and namecalling and real vitriol.

I guess my point in all this is that when there's strong feelings, some fans will find a way to be horrible to each other.

I was in the Sherlock fandom, another fandom 98% dominated by one ship. There were other ships, but somehow they seemed to co-exist mostly peacefully barring some snide remarks and rude comments (I could be wrong about this, if you asked someone who shipped a non-Johnlock ship they might have a different answer). No, the insanity in the Sherlock fandom was not ship-war-related.

I was also in the Criminal Minds fandom, which has a whole bunch of disparate ships and no ship wars that I can recall.

Then there are other fandoms, like Avatar, with TERRIBLE ship wars that are still going on.

I don't think the situation in 9-1-1 is as unique or different from other fandom wanks as has sometimes been asserted. I think terrible fandom wars are sort of inevitable, whether they're ship related or not. But for what it's worth, here are some of my thoughts on what's going on here.

A loooooong time (5.5 seasons) with one very dominant non-canonical queer ship. No other ship really ever approached the level of saturation or devotion of Buddie.

A pervasive belief that this ship might possibly become canon. That's a feature a lot of other ships do not have.

A lack of intense devotion to any of the other love interests. BuckTaylor was never a challenger to Buddie. Neither was Eddie and Shannon, or anybody else. It's hard to fight when there's no worthy challenger.

But now? BuckTommy is not only canon, but it has a lot of fans. It's a threat. And it's not only a threat in a feelings kind of way (as in, people like a thing that is not the thing I like and it makes me upset) but there's a perception that it's an ACTUAL threat, as in if people like this ship and promote it, it could cause it to become a permanent relationship (the degree to which fan response actually affects how the show unfolds is...debatable).

I do not personally think this is the case, but some fans strongly believe that Buddie could still happen if it weren't for BuckTommy. So if you're still wanting Buddie and believe it will or could happen, the existence of an alternate love interest represents a direct obstacle to that happening. That's a heck of an incentive to hate that competing ship. I get it.

That...might be a somewhat unique situation. There's a fight now because there's a challenger who might actually stand a chance.

This goes along with what we saw in the immediate aftermath of 7x04. I read someone else say (apologies, I don't know who it was, feel free to @ me if it was you and I'll credit you) that the early post-7x04 enthusiasm and acceptance of Tommy reflected the belief that he was temporary. A lot of folks thought it was just a way for Buck to get with Eddie, like, very soon after that. But the more time went by, the clearer it became that this was not the plan or the intention. So the mood soured for those who were still pulling for Buddie.

Other fandoms I've been in with a hugely dominant ship...Sherlock and X-Files are the two that spring immediately to mind...there was never a challenger with any legs. X-Files fandom wank was between the ship and the...lack of ship, shall we say. But a concrete, tangible "opponent" makes a fight so much more visceral, doesn't it?

I do think there's been a fandom shift towards needing ships to be canon that I don't really get, but it's there. There's been a lot written about fandom culture in the last ten years, the breakdown of boundaries between fans and creators, the access to those creators, a sense of ownership/entitlement, purity culture, obsession with shipping "correctly" (which leads into wanting things to be canon for the validation)...these are all newish features. So pile that on top of 9-1-1 having a longtime single ship that's legitimately threatened for the first time in its existence by a competing canon ship and it's kind of a powderkeg.

No wonder it's caught on fire.

[nausikaaa]

Some Sentences Sunday

thanks for tagging me @blackberrysummerblog!

the problem i've been butting up against these past few weeks is that the chapters i'm currently writing are the darkest in the whole book, covering the fall of troy and the subsequent few days. both of my POV characters suffer like hell for a few chapters, and while i think that works in the context of the whole story, it feels like a lot to just drop a handful of sentences of.

so this is the best i could find that is pretty depressing, but not too horrifying to read. i have cheated and stretched it to eight sentences, though.

The sun rose on an Ilium I hardly recognised, a charred skeleton which held only echoes of it's former self. Here, a blackened turret which was once a tower. Over there, a heap of ash which had been a flour mill. And looming over it all, still smoking, was a shape which had once been the palace.

We had been corralled to the beach to await our fates. A handful of soldiers stood around us, to prevent anyone from making a break for it, but they held their spears loosely and chatted amongst each other, only sparing glances our way when somebody made too much noise. After all, where could we run to? Our home was in ruins, and there was nothing but blood soaked sand for miles.

as for lambing updates:

fourteen out of sixteen ewes have lambed, and we have a total of twenty five lambs! two more are still due, one in three days and then one in June. my three goats are due in May and June.

we have two lambs on the bottle (it was three, but one got adopted, yay!) and two with unfortunately broken legs (don't try to be born backwards, kids), so those are the ones i have the most photos of, while the rest are out in the field, enjoying the sunshine.

finally, my monthly word count:

in the first week of march i wrote 6189 words, bringing my total WC up to 103,741, breaking both 100k and my monthly goal of 6k in the process;

in the second week i wrote 1144 words;

in the third week i wrote 3761 words;

and in the final week of march i wrote 4444 words. i did also delete some words in editing earlier scenes, so i ended up with a total word count of 113,090.

i know this is mostly just confusing number soup, but basically, overall, i wrote 15,538 words in march (though deleted plenty too, but all writing is practise, even if it gets cut later) and have 133k words overall!

last but not least, tags:

i hope you all have a lovely sunday, and perhaps mother's day, depending on your location!

@forabeatofadrum @cutestkilla @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @youarenevertooold @that-disabled-princess @noblecorgi @orange-peony @larkral @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @martsonmars @meanjeansjeans @leithillustration @j-trow-95 @bookishbroadwayandblind and @monbons

[getvalentined]

everyone seems to know something about James Somerton that i don't. the notes on your post are full of people saying "sigh THIS guy again", and i would like to know if he's done something other than make those queer theory youtube videos which seem extemporaneous in nature. i would google it but i trust some of you more than reddit

James Somerton was recently exposed as having completely plagiarized probably 90% of his work—from Wikipedia, news outlets, smaller queer creators, and at least two dead queer creators. (The last one is particularly egregious, in my opinion, given his extremely fucked up claim a while back that all the Cool Gays died during the AIDS Crisis, apparently including the authors whose work he stole.)

You can see the entire rundown in HBomberguy's video Plagiarism and You(Tube), which has a staggering runtime of almost four hours, a solid half of which is dedicated entirely to James Somerton. The first two hours of the video cover other cases, one in meatspace (Harlan Ellison and Ben Bova's landmark case against Paramount and ABC over the plagiarism in Future Cop) and then some smaller instances on YouTube (Filip, Internet Historian, iilluminaughtii). The second half, timestamped starting here, is exclusively about James—and while it goes over the plagiarism, touches on the misogyny and misinformation*, and briefly covers his various other grifts, it doesn't cover everything.

*For more on the misinformation aspect, Todd in the Shadows did a two hour video exclusively about that!

Assuming James Somerton's entire body of paying supporters on Patreon are at the $1 tier, that's around $3k per month. Since we know that isn't the case, it's probably closer to 5-10 times that amount. This doesn't include ad revenue from YouTube, any sponsorships, or his crowdfunding efforts to produce films that have never come into being. This man has been raking in over $100k per year, at minimum, by stealing words from other creators, pretending they're his own, and then lying every single time he's been called out for it. He claimed one person doxxed him and sent him death threats, although all they'd actually done was engaged in a firm but polite conversation on Twitter about how he needs to do more than plug in a credit at the end of a video description if he's just reading out of someone else's book.

Yesterday he posted a trash apology video where he started off by claiming he'd just gotten out of the hospital after making an attempt on his own life, talked about moving back home, referred to what he'd done as "poor citation practices," and said that he'd be reopening his Patreon and putting all his old videos back up so that he could donate the ad revenue to Hbomb's fund to compensate the authors that James himself stole from.

So yeah. Uh. Fuck that guy.

[wrongcaitlyn]

Ok now that we have a secound tsats book coming out i feel the need to read all the solangelo fics

Do you have any long solangelo fic recs? U feel like I've read them all

of COURSE i do omg i have to admit that a lot of the fics in my bookmarks are shorter ones/oneshots but i think that the solangelo fandom just tends to write more of those?? or at least that's just my experience based on what i've read - but here are some longer fics that are must-reads!! (don't have as much time to write in depth reviews as my past recs so just assume that i have lines of caps lock keysmashes for all of them bc i swear they're incredible)

la vita è fatta così by HowlingAlchemist

When Bianca somehow comes back from the dead, she, Nico and Will are sent on a quest that will hopefully answer some lingering questions. But Nico and Bianca are not the kids that they once were, and things get very difficult as a result. this one is more bianca & nico focused as a plot HOWEVER there's a lot of absolutely wonderful solangelo!!

The Stolen God by @tsarinatorment

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus? i KNOW that i've already rec'd this one but if you haven't read it. like literally. go read it. seriously. (and also it's another one where solangelo isn't really the *main* focus, BUT there's lots of solangelo content <3)

FAR GALAXIES by @rosyredlipstick

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled out her PADD from her coat, slow enough that Nico only slightly twitched. Jason’s transmission was loaded up on the screen—at the bottom, their signature tag was spelled out. “Guardians of the Galaxy. That supposed to be a joke?” “More like an aspiration,” Jason said. - Space, the final frontier. Or whatever. this one's actually one im currently reading and i'm abt halfway through rn and love it!!

okay usually i define a "long" fic as 100k+ words but after looking through all of my bookmarks im realizing that those are literally the only ones i have. so! we're lowering the word count minimum to over 40k+ words bc these are also amazing fics!! (currently wishing there was a way to sort bookmarks by word count)

peach tea by ghosttotheparty

Please Stay by CoolBeesBro

like the sun and stars above by demigodbeautiies

Bad Sons by thesungod

will also subtly self promo my hunger games fic which has a lot of mcd and is very very fun imo

so that's wild it looks like i need some long solangelo fic recs too?? why are most of my bookmarks oneshots??? its actually so funny bc in other fandoms i have a bunch of long fic bookmarks and rarely any oneshots so it's an interesting little statistic. pls drop more recs if you have any!!

[lykegenia]

2024 Writing Roundup

tagged by @juneiper-art - thank you!

words posted: 73,510

additional words written: between all the buffer chapters in my longfics plus a few sundry bits it's at least 30k

grand total of words: just over 100k altogether, I think

fandoms: Dragon Age, The Wayhaven Chronicles, and a backstory short story for one of my DnD characters

highest kudos: Rosemary and Citrus, a Rookanis slow burn retelling of Veilguard that's already grown far past its original scope

highest hit oneshot: He Makes Her Cry (He Doesn't Like It), my first foray into MasonxF!Detective from TWC, set during Book Three

new things I tried: I mostly stick to my habits, though with Rosemary and Citrus I've been posting as I go and trying to stick to a proper schedule, which is unusual for me.

fic I spent the most time on: As The World Falls Down, my AU retelling of Dragon Age Origins in which Alistair was raised by the Couslands instead of going to the templars

fic I spent the least time on: He Makes Her Cry, but only because it's so short compared to the others

favorite thing I wrote: This whole upcoming chapter for As The World Falls Down, really, but here's a sneak preview:

Cautiously, he wended his way through the shadows to Eamon’s office, girded by his imagination and the knowledge that getting caught couldn’t be worse than whatever fate was being decided for him just beyond the door. Even before he rounded the final corner, he caught the timbre of angry male voices spilling out into the hallway, and as he edged closer along the wall so that the squeak of floorboards would not betray him he strained his ears to make out the words. “– told her he sleeps in the kennels, that he gets only scraps from the cook! There is no answer for it.” The voice held a note of familiarity, but one that Alistair could not place over the shock of hearing himself so vehemently defended. “Regardless of where you get your information, this is not a matter within your purview,” came a terse reply – Eamon, in a tone low and deep with disapproval. “That is your concern here?” demanded the first voice. “I made enquiries after what I saw that day. I must say, you kept him well hidden, but that does not excuse you. Had I entrusted one of my children to the care of another, only to find them so poorly mistreated, the person responsible would find themselves very sorry indeed.” “You told me the boy was cared for.” This was a third voice, the second stranger who had ridden into the yard. “You assured me it would be so.” “I have done more for him than any would rightfully expect me to, given the circumstances,” Eamon retorted. “I have even secured him a future in a role worthy of respect –” “You wanted to make a problem disappear and thought the templars would be the easiest way to explain it.” “How dare –” “Enough!” The third voice sounded angry, and weary. “Eamon, I should have been consulted before you spoke with Knight-Captain Renwick.” “Consulted?” the second voice scoffed. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but –” All three went silent. Too late, Alistair clapped his hand over his mouth. He backed away from the door, the imaginary echo of his gasp ringing in his ears. Whichever way he tried to run, the hallway was too long, he wouldn’t be fast enough to get out of sight before –

favorite thing(s) I read: I've done a lot more reading this year, but I'm limiting it to three:

Kiss Me Moonstruck by @theluckywizard - I'm in love with this Garrett Hawke, who manages to be a famed mercenary at the same time as a complete sap and a passable wit, and the premise of the story happens to tick all of my favourite romance tropes

Attachment Theory by @thee-morrigan - Everything about this Natex F!Detective AU is rich and delicious and the imagery is gorgeous

Sanguine by @effelants - If you want an Alistair whose characterisation is on point, then this is the fic for you. The Changes to the plot of the game keep the story fresh, and the mystery around Moira is a very compelling dive into the lore around magic and spirits

writing goals for 2025: be more consistent with actually writing, try to get my word count up, and actually go back to the longfics I've been neglecting and start posting again

new works:

Patience, And Words, And Waterfalls - TWC, musing on Leah's inability to tell Nate how she feels

Mercies - The battle for Haven, with the feelings starting to show between Cullen and Maighread Trevelyan

He Makes Her Cry

Rosemary and Citrus

Tagging forward to everyone already mentioned, plus @vela-ad-astra @athenasdragon @serenpedac @naiatabris and @lalizah - no pressure!

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

I saw a post on your Instagram account saying you're writing 100k words a month. Is it true? How do you manage to write that much? Do you have any advice on how to do the same thing?

Well, yes. It's true. I write around 100k words a month, which makes around 1.5 million words a year.

First of all: don't do like me. Don't compare how you write to how I write. It's not a competition, and I have a lot of explanations for why I'm writing so much that you actually don't want to reproduce lol.

The first of them is that I have ADHD, and so like a lot of ADHD people, I can't focus on only one project. It's literally impossible for me, and I tried. I'm writing on 15 different projects, and 7 translations. At the same time, yes, which is why I post my fanfiction on a chaotic schedule, with sometimes months between chapters. So that's a first inconvenience.

ADHD comes with hyperfixations. Writing is one of them, and so I have literally no concept of time whatsoever when I'm writing, and I'm really excited so I write A LOT. This is actually one of the many reasons I'm exploring autism, because that hyperfixation has been the same for 20 years now lol. By that I mean that I am physically unwell the days I can't write, which can happen sometimes. I'm writing basically every day, at least 2 hours a day.

The second explanation is that I have a lot of free time right now, as I'm still looking for a job, and so I'm not working at the moment. I have writing sessions until 4 a.m. sometimes, which I for sure don't recommend anyone to do unless you want to have a very messed up sleep schedule like me. Well, I'm still writing a lot even when I'm working, but with more restrictions on time and so a lot less words.

As you can see, this is mostly an unhealthy way to deal with writing, so don't do like I do and do it at your rhythm.

As for my advice if you want to write more regularly: see your brain as just another muscle. To train a muscle, you need to repeat things regularly. That's how you learned to brush your teeth, for example. Set one or two writing sessions in the week, 20 minutes each (it can be 5 minutes 4 times a day too!), and once your brain starts to like the routine and if you have time, you can add more sessions in the week or longer sessions.

Don't do big sessions immediately, and stop after your timer is done. Why? Because frustration is also a good tool. The more frustrated you are that you have been interrupted in the middle of a cool writing session, the faster you will want to go and write again.

I don't recommend counting your words. The number of words you write a day is irregular, and seeing fluctuations can demotivate you. It's okay if you don't write as much as you did yesterday, you're still writing. It's ok if you only wrote three words today because you were tired, that's still three words you wrote.

However, if you like a good challenge, it can also be a motivator. It really depends on people. Don't hesitate to write with friends too! Trying to be regular with a lot of people makes things easier, and you can do regular breaks to share extracts of what you wrote for example. There are Discord servers specialized in that!

What you want to avoid is writing euphoria. Writing euphoria is basically when you're so inspired that you feel like writing until you pass out from exhaustion. Writing euphoria is one of the reasons some people experience writer's block syndrome. It's not always the case as there's a lot of different things that can do that, but this is definitely one of them. If you end a session exhausted, your brain might keep in memory that it's not a fun thing to do, and so it might blocks you when you try again. That's why frustration is important when you want to become more regular.

And, of course, reward yourself at the end of every writing session. You know how you cheer your puppy when it peed outside? Well, it's basically the same thing. Congratulate your brain for braining, either with a treat, a video you wanted to watch, or the authorization to play a video game. It can be anything as long as you end on a successful note!

Keep in mind that you won't become regular in a week. It takes months of practice, with a lot of fails on the way, and that's ok. Keep also in mind that this is one method, not THE method. It might not work with you, because you have a different way of functioning, and that's ok too :D Find the way that works for you, and try several things!

Added to that, if you are barely starting in writing: don't try to be regular immediately. Before even thinking about that, there's one essential step you need to reach: you need to like what you're writing. You're going to spend hours on a project. If you're not confident in what you're writing for now, you won't be regular because you will keep doubting yourself. Liking what you're writing takes more or less time, depending on the author, and that's ok. Learn first what your limits in writing are, and what you like and don't like to do. That's the very first step in this process. Trust yourself first.

[bridenore]

HD longer fics recs : 70k to 80k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 70k and 80k words.

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here, between 100k and 125k here and between 90k and 100k here.

Breathe Me by @kedavranox [73k]

Since the singular incident of being a Horcrux for many years has left Harry with a sensitivity to Dark magic, Harry begins training with Jacob, a Wizard who lives in New York, using this sensitivity to his advantage to cleanse magical spaces of Dark magic. After a year of training, Draco Malfoy shows up, wanting to learn from Jacob as well, and unexpectedly the two men grow a bond, both magical and physical. But Jacob’s sudden death leaves Harry floundering and growing increasingly dependent on drugs and sex to avoid his problems. After his brief and tumultuous affair with Draco ends, Harry begins a life of travel, avoiding returning home permanently and continuing his drug habit. He flits from job to job, from place to place, never settling down for a moment, until, years later, Harry is called back to England by his friends to help Draco find his way out of a cursed Manor.

Choices of the Heart by Naadi [78k]

Immediately after defeating Voldemort, Harry begins to have strange dreams, dreams that pull him once more into the realm of the newly dead. At first, the dreams are only a curious mystery, and Harry sets about putting his life back in order after the war. But when Harry dreams of Narcissa Malfoy, his life suddenly goes in a much different direction than the one he’d always imagined.

The Claiming of Grimmauld Place by @bixgirl1 [74k]

When Grimmauld Place begins fighting against Harry’s ownership of it, he decides he needs help to train the historic home — but little does he expect that it’ll be Malfoy who’s most suitable for the challenge. However, as Malfoy and Harry get closer, Harry comes to understand that expectations aren’t always the best path by which to guide his heart — and in the process learns just what is needed to make a house a home.

Crown Witness by @slytherco [70k]

After the war, wizarding society is oppressed by a new kind of plague—an organised crime group calling itself the Family. When Harry Potter goes to interrogate a potential witness, he doesn’t expect to end up on the run again, trying to keep Draco Malfoy alive, while a manhunt follows in their footsteps, adamant on eliminating the one witness that could ruin everything. In which Harry and Draco learn that the way to each other might just have to go through the dingiest hotels in Britain.

Faerie Felicities by @quackquackcey  [79k]

Draco dies and wakes up to the emerald drapes of the Slytherin dormitory at the end of 5th year. Thus ensues new possibilities, new choices, a new life, and a new romance(?) Featuring fluffy shenanigans, lots of baking, and a hopefully not-so-bad war (fingers crossed). Or in other words, a somewhat Christmassy canon rewrite fic.

From the Sea by wantsunicorns [78k]

Scorpius Malfoy has never been one to leave stones unturned in his quest for adventure, and he’s not about to start when it comes to finding a cure for his father’s mysterious illness. Albus Potter has his work cut out for him, making sure Scorpius doesn’t get himself killed or drive Albus around the bend. – A tale of adventure and civilisations long forgotten, where not everything is quite as is seems.

Headlights in the Snow by Saras_Girl [71k]

What’s big and purple and smells like tea? Harry is about to find out. Advent fic 2016.

Heartlines by @shiftylinguini [72k]

Harry never expected he’d end up chipping away at his virginity while wandless and bonded to Malfoy in Northern Europe. He never expected that would turn out to be the least surprising thing to happen while out on their training expedition in the middle of nowhere, either.

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w [76k]

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all. Meanwhile, on Level One, ex-Golden Boy Harry Potter is stuck in another interminable policy meeting, completely unaware of the mysterious comings and goings just three floors below. But when a giant snake emergency requires the assistance of a Parselmouth, Harry finds himself thrust, unprepared, into Draco’s weird and wonderful world – and naturally, he can’t keep away…

Manticoria by @lol-zeitgeistic [70k]

In the dangerous days after Voldemort’s fall, Harry struggles to find a way to be with Draco—again. But as the magical world threatens to die all around them, it might be more difficult than he thought. Includes dying wards, dying beasts, and love struggling to live; sentient magic, wandlore, Founder lore, potion lore, and ward lore; and of course there is Zacharias Smith to ruin everything, as usual.

Monster by shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony​ [71k]

“Hmm,” Hermione hums, tapping her index finger against her bottom lip and then smiling at Harry. “A broken music box, you say…” “A cursed one,” Harry corrects her. “Well, it’s still a music box that is not working properly,” Hermione points out with a very intent grin. “That will give you a chance to see him.” She wiggles her eyebrows, making him snort. As if Harry hadn’t thought about it straight away. As if Harry’s mind hadn’t immediately wandered to Draco Malfoy the moment Zabini mentioned a music box.

Now My Neck Is Open Wide (begging for a fist around it) by LadySlytherin [75k]

Six months post-war, Harry meets Grayson Wenke, a famous Quidditch player. Harry believes he’s found the love of his life, and a Happily Ever After ending suitable for the storybooks. When Grayson slowly goes from Prince Charming to a monster behind closed doors, Harry finds himself trapped, and alone, and fearing for his life. When Harry realizes he’s pregnant, the opportunity for escape - and a real Happily Ever After - presents itself as none other than Draco Malfoy. The only question is if Harry is brave enough to take a chance, and strong enough to heal.

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k] 

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop [70k]

It’s Potter’s fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It’s been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco’s getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he’s falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Teach Me, Life; Guide Me, Love by Kira OHara [79k]

Revelations both painful and joyous set the markers in the path of every life. Thankfully, Draco has spectacular company for the journey.

That Old Black Magic by @bixgirl1 [77k]

Centuries ago, marriage contracts were the norm — ready-made alliances between families, expected and complied with, without complaint. But norms have a way of changing, and when a long-dormant contract flares to life, Harry has to navigate an unexpected splintering of the path he’d thought would be easy after the war… with Draco Malfoy.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[artingstarvist]

Updates

So I know it's been like a month since I updated "A Soft Touch." It's not dead, I'm just very invested in writing Paper Memories Part Two at the moment. I do have most of a chapter finished which I just need to edit. I'll try to post it maybe sometime this coming week?

After that though, there probably wont be another until I at least reach the halfway point in PMp2. As it turns out, I don't juggle two different fics well haha. I also really wanted to take part in Clone Week next month and try some short-form fics.

I think my goal is to reach the halfway point of PMp2 by the end of April and then I'll take a little break from it. We'll see how it goes.

Also, I'm on the market for a new beta reader for Part Two, if anyone is interested. Only DM me if you're really up for it tho, you KNOW it's gonna be 100k+ word fic. I'm thinking I might release it in three arcs with breaks between instead of waiting for the Whole Thing to be done. In an ideal world, I'd start posting chapters of the first arc in like July, so I'd like to get ahead if I can.

[storycraftcafe]

Hello there!

Do you have any neurospicy friendly tips for staying motivated? I'd love to write more, especially long-form, multi-chapter works but after a chapter or two I either get bitten by other plot bunnies or real life eats me whole.

Thanks!

Hello friend!

Oh this is right up my alley, grab a cuppa, I get wordy.

As a chronic “too many ideas, too little dopamine” ADHD brain that’s always seeking that lil extra dopamine, I suffer from the exact same problem. My motivation is a fickle thing, as is my ability to focus and my goblin brain is always after the new shiny idea.

But, I’m also at the end of drafting the biggest project I’ve ever completed(it's over 100k words right now), while also planning a novel, developing a few more ideas and writing short stories and doing this blog (intermittently at least for now).

How the hell did I manage that?

I learned to work with my brain, lean into novelty, made things really easy for myself and when needed, got some help and made things fun. 

The truth is, motivation comes and goes, as does inspiration. So we have to figure out how to keep writing without it, and how to wrangle those plot bunnies. That’s the work we do. 

My short answer is this: The solution to focusing on a big project is to make working on this project easier than working on anything else, make it the most enjoyable, and make it the most rewarding.

Here’s some advice on how:

Advice Tidbit the First: Work with your brain

Since us neurospicy types come in so many flavours, it’s impossible to give advice that works for everyone. So find what works for you. You know what helps you focus, you know what your weaknesses are and you know how your brain works. If you don’t, now is the time to find out how to work with your brain chemistry rather than against it. 

If this means having music, using a pomodoro timer, something like a special focus based word processor or a notebook, use it. If this means working with a trusted friend, a community, or alone, do that. 

For me it really means that the big project is always front and centre. It is always open, it is always flagged in my notebook, it is always present and easy to come back to and I always know where I’m going with it.

I’m gonna share some things that work for me and I encourage you to try them, keep what works, and cast off the rest.

Advice Tidbit the Second: Lean into Novelty

My brain relishes novelty, and will happily chase a new idea down a rabbit hole like a Jack Russell on speed and after years of fighting it, I’ve learned sometimes, it’s best to chase the white rabbit and see where it ends up. Just make sure you have a way of putting that idea on a back burner and coming home to the project you want to focus on.

And I do this through a few different means. 

First I write that new idea down, which in turn helps me get it out of my head instead of it repeating ad nauseum like the chewiest earworm. The brain repeats things to remember them, but if you write it down, and then immediately get what you wanna focus on in front of your eyeballs, you might be able to switch gears and get back on track.

Second, I create my own novelty by balancing a few projects at once, that are all at different stages of development, and focus on different ideas. I have the big one that's almost done, I have a novel that’s in planning, a few short story ideas that’s percolating  and this blog which is focused less on creation and more explaining things I’ve learned. And I bounce from these, as needed, to keep things fresh. 

Third, if all else fails, I stop fighting and go wild. I’ve stumbled onto some amazing gems of projects by embracing the mad rush of inspiration until I hit a wall. And the trick for me is, once I hit that wall, I go back to my big project and it always feels a little fresher after that time away.

Writers are creative creatures, and inspiration is a wonderful, amazing, maddening thing that we cannot rely on, but shouldn’t ignore when it strikes. 

Advice Tidbit the Third: Make that shit easy.

A fun, and by fun I mean hellish aspect of my brain chemistry is that the more barriers between me and doing a thing there are, the less likely I am to do the thing. Executive dysfunction is an asshole and should pay but until I can figure out a way to do that, I instead focus on making this as easy for me as possible. 

When it comes to focusing on a specific project, I make sure I have it ready to go when I wanna work on it. I open up the word doc before I go to bed, I leave some notes for myself before leaving it, I never close it unless I absolutely have to, and I always, always have a notebook or my phone on hand to write with, and I have a playlist on hand to get me in the mindset while writing or walking, or working out.

Now if you’re looking at that and going “But Cas, that’s a lot of prep-work”, yeah, it is, and that’s what I do to make things easier to start and stay focused with. Call it the neurospicy-tax. Sometimes shit comes with extra prepwork, but it will help you in the long run.

Thankfully the execution is less painful than it sounds. I just don’t close the word doc for my main project unless I absolutely have to. Opening it first thing is a habit I’ve developed over time as is carrying my notebook around everywhere. Right now I’m trying to build the habit of writing first thing in the morning after breakfast, which means I have the project, or project notes up to read while I eat.

The less I have to think about it, the less steps it takes to start, the easier it is to just do. And do it enough, consistently enough, it becomes habitual. Ish.

Advice Tidbit the Fourth and Most Important: Make the writing easier too.

Yeap. I’m gonna say it. Learn to plan in a way that works for you.

It is so much easier to write freely, consistently and confidently when I have a damn good idea of where I’m going and what targets I’m trying to hit. If you’ve read my waffling about approaching chapters, I go on at length about how that pre-planning makes the work easier. This doesn’t mean you need to have the whole thing planned down to the finest detail, you don’t need every chapter and scene on cards ready to go, unless that’s what works best for you.

However, I have found that I can stick with big projects the best if I have a rough plan consisting of story beats, knowing my character arcs, and solid idea of the ending. With that roadmap, it doesn't matter how lost or distracted I get or how long I spend in the warren of Ploticus Bunnicus, because I have that guide at hand to bring me back to my story. But when I don’t have it… I get lost. And I stay lost. I lose motivation, it’s harder to pick it up again, I lose hope and I abandon that story and feel awful about it.

So if there’s any advice I want you to try it’s this: Figure out where your story is going, where you want it to end up, a few ideas on how you’ll get there, and make a map to keep you heading in the right direction.

It can be as easy as dot points giving you a few ideas about what’s ahead, a few notes from the last writing session to remind you of where you were going, or a paragraph blocking out events in a really condensed summary. Whatever works for you, but have a plan for where you’re going for those moments when something shiny crosses your path. Make working on this main project easier than working on anything else, make it the most enjoyable, make it the most rewarding. Let me know if you want me to talk about my roadmapping/planning process.

Advice Tidbit the Fifth: Get some help.

I would not be as far along in my big project as I am if I didn’t have two really amazing people that helped me along my way as alpha readers. Ie: the two people who got frantic messages at 3am asking if they could look at the raw draft I had just churned out to see if it was okay, and who also, graciously, acted as rubber duckies and brainstorming partners and problem solvers as I figured my own process out.

I owe these two so much.

Writing can be a terribly solitary craft but it doesn’t have to be. So get a buddy, someone that can hold you to task, who can give their opinion, act as a sounding board, who is as excited about the project as you are. I am so glad to be that person for my bestest buddies and they are that person for me.

So find that person, someone you can trust, a friend, another writer, or just someone that has your back. And if you don’t have that person, there are communities aplenty floating around. And I am always, always, ready to cheerlead a fellow writer. Hell, I created a whole damn server just to help other writers that I haven’t been brave enough to advertise yet.  You can find it here. [If the link isn't active, feel free to ask me for one!]

Advice Tidbit the Sixth: Make that shit fun.

Writing is work, there’s no way to get around that and writing a big multi-chapter project is a LOT of work even if you don’t plan, edit, revise, or rewrite (though you should). All my advice so far has been focused on making that work easier, on working with your brain, embracing novelty for your own ends, making the work easier, and working with a friend.

Now we get to have fun.

What makes writing enjoyable for you? Is it having a tasty treat while working or after as a reward? Is it good music? An excuse to go to a cafe? To use a pretty pen? Whatever it is, DO IT. 

I like to have a nice cup of tea in a nice mug while I write. I always have music or something ignorable for background noise on the tv. And I use my very pretty pens in my very nice notebooks.

If you’re anything like me, you possess strong opinions regarding notebooks and pens, and likely have a neglected collection of some pretty stuff. So I’m gonna say something shocking: You should use those nice pens and notebooks.

 No seriously. 

Use them. Use the pretty inks and lovely pens and use them to make writing fun. Switch colours at the drop of a hat or to show scene and pov transitions, practise your handwriting. Use different notebooks for different projects or one big bullet journal style thing for all your writing. 

Create yourself an everyday writers kit and take it everywhere with you. Use it. If you’re doom scrolling, switch your phone for your writing kit and start jotting down some ideas or write a single sentence for your story. Use these pretty shiny things. I dare you.

Keep in mind, you DO NOT need expensive pens or papers ever at all. You can do this with a cheap notebook and a ballpoint. I’m just a stationery nerd and I like using the nice things I’ve bought instead of them sitting there doing nothing.

Here’s my kit, a black traveller’s notebook with three inserts and a kraft folder, two pen loops stuck onto the folder and two TWSBI eco fountain pens. Each insert is for a different kind of project (drafting the long project, brainstorming and planning or short stories, and planning and drafting articles for this blog.) and I have sticky tabs in the folder to make pages and specific projects. Sometimes I add a pouch of yet more fountain pens because I don’t have a problem, I have a collection.

Flex aside, my point is use tools that you enjoy using. If that means a nice clacky keyboard, use it, if that means fancy ass pens, use them, if that means something you’re not scared of breaking, use it. 

Now for gamification: A common bit of advice I hear for ADHD brains specifically is to gamify the tricky things and thank the gods, there’s a bunch of people who have figured out ways to do this.

For writers specifically we have a few tasty choices.

A quick search for ‘gamifying writing’ will turn up a bunch of results but here’s a few favourites of mine.

4thewords is web browser based RPG game where you write to battle monsters and make your way through the story. It is a subscription however but it’s fairly affordable ($4 USD a month) if you end up using it everyday. It comes with progress trackers, avatars you can get cool things for, a big community and it has a 15 day trial that does not need a credit card for. Wahoo. I’ve used it, it's a lot of  fun, but it doesn’t gel with my other needs quite as well but I do turn to it none and then when I really wanna buckle down and focus. Give it a go~

Write Or Die is a classic sprint writing tool that I’ve been a fan of for years. Basically you write or you are ‘punished’ via flashing screen, loud noises or if you’re brave, there’s the mode that eats your words if you stop typing for too long. It is a one man developer that said and a bit old and neglected but Write or Die 2 is worth it if this helps you stay focused.

Too high stress? Think about trying…

Written Kitten is a web browser based writing motivator that gives you a cute kitten picture every time you write a certain number of words. It’s adorable.

Or you can grab that writing buddy of yours, or just yourself, a timer and do a writing sprint. Pick a number of words, set your timer and write until the timer goes off. See how well you did, see how any words you can get and how far above the set number you can go.

In the end all this leads to the same key point, which is to make working on your long multi-chaptered project as easy, fun and rewarding as you possibly can. If you have a mind that chases fun, make the work fun, if it chases novelty, make the work novel, if it lacks focus, figure out how it likes to focus and apply that to your project. 

You can wrangle your brain, but you have to work to its strengths. But before I wrap this up

Advice Tidbit the Seventh: Go easy on yourself.

Neurospicy brains are particular and challenging and common advice doesn’t always work for us and that’s okay. It can be tricky figuring out what works and what doesn’t, and spoons aren’t always plentiful, our moods aren’t always cooperative and sometimes the work really is hard no matter what we do. And that’s okay. What matters, I think, is that we keep trying. A few words a day are still a few words a day.  It adds up.

You got this and I am always happy to have a chat or listen.

Good writing!