#writing for myself is so nice. I write this because I want to read it.

[postmortemvp]

wip whenever ₍^. .^₎⟆

i got tagged by @chromecore and for once i do have a few things worth sharing.

ive lost track of who has or hasn't been tagged for it recently, so i'll leave it open to anyone who wants to do it too!! i love seeing what people are working on.

i'll start first with a personal modding project. i've been on the hunt for a place that would fit what i have in mind for Vanessa's apartment, since none of the player ones are quite what i'm looking for. i finally settled on the one Anna Hamill uses in Watson, the layout's cute and just the right size overall.

so last night i've started emptying it in cleaning it, and hopefully i'll be able to work on redecorating it today ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

the progress so far. i'm gonna swap it for a nicer (bigger) bed too. and i might have to recolor some of the furniture myself, babygirl deserves more pink in her life.

i've also spent some time cleaning up the apartment on top of KAB Tools for the hivemind of the kowalski korner, because this place sure was nasty.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ next up, writing. that one makes me a little nervous i guess, particularly because i haven't shared my writing publicly in years, particularly not in english. and on top of that, im not a big fic writer, my bread and butter has always been (very) long form roleplay, which is a very different beast.

so be nice to me pwease. it's only a barely edited excerpt so far, meant to go with my last vanny/mike shippy saturday vp ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

"Something's bothering you." No question there, merely an observation, and the way her shoulders ever so slightly stiffen is the only answer he really needs. In any other situation, being right would've brought him a sense of smug satisfaction, a smirk or teasing quip in tow. Tonight, however, he finds himself almost wishing he had been wrong, or simply blissfully ignorant. Mike Kowalski has been called many things throughout the years—asshole, bastard and other colorful expletives—but heartless? Absolutely fucking not (not that he remembers at least), and he sure ain't planning on making this a first. "Wanna talk about it?" he adds after a beat, absentmindedly running his still 'ganic fingers up and down her spine, following the familiar lines etched into her skin. He only has to close his eyes to clearly picture it, the way the ink so sharply frames the middle of her back, down to the curve of her ass, and—well, maybe now's not the time to be thinking about that. "Not really." She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, the back of her thighs still resting against the side of the counter-top. Oh, Vanessa has never been hard to read, quite the open book when it comes to her emotions. Even for someone whose sole reading material as of late has been Regina Jones' gig rundowns. Usually, he'd take that as the metaphorical door being closed for good, probably wouldn't even have considered opening it himself in the first place. Except it's not just any door—she's not just anyone. He knows her, he realizes, and it's not just about how nicely her tits fit against his palms or what kind of cute noises he can coax out of her when she's lying under him anymore. No, it's about the crease that always forms between her brows when she's thinking too hard about something and the way she bites the inside of her cheek when she has more to say but doesn't know if she should keep going.

i may not be able to finish it today like i had hoped, but hopefully soon. i'd like to include their mutual use of polish when speaking to each other (i have a soft spot for people using terms of endearment in other languages) but that will have to wait. both because i want it to feel natural, and i also want it to be accurate. Ი︵𐑼

[angelsafa]

Hello Safa, I used LOA before to manifest but most things I manifested have been bad because my bad mentallity. I'm a Shifter and spanish too. I had been follow you since some weeks ago and I LOVE YOUR CHANNEL!!

I'm writing you this because I had been doubting about my manifestation power (I'm working on this).

It turns out that I am manifesting to be in Bachillerato de Artes Escénicas because I would like to dedicate myself to that in the future, but I did the pre-registration after the deadline and I have to wait to be admitted to get the place. I have been told that 18 people have to leave in order to be admitted to the baccalaureate. I have said affirmations, I have tried to assume I am already admitted, I have imagined I am already in class, I have felt the excitement that I have it and I also try to act like that "new me" who already has what she wants because she always gets it (like the Sharpey Evans character), I readed Neville Goddard's books BUT I SEE NO RESULT.

If I am admitted they are supposed to call me on the phone or send me a message but I don't see any results.

I don't want to give up and I'm trying to stay motivated but I'm getting tired of this situation (I'm a person who has no patience and wants things NOW).

One part of me is telling me to give up (I think it's my ego?) and the other part is telling me to keep acting like the new version of myself but I don't know what to do.

Any advice?

I also have a question:

can I manifest several things at once? I ask this because I have a big list of things I want to manifest (one of those things is manifesting my dream boyfriend) and I've heard people say you can't manifest multiple things.

Also, I think that even if I could it would be difficult for me because I have the belief that I have to manifest being in Bachiller first to manifest the other things (I know it's stupid but I don't know how to get rid of my limiting beliefs, I have heard subliminals but they don't do much and as I said I am working on my limitations and believing that I truly am the creator and goddess of my reality because I AM!).

I'm also thinking of manifesting that Disney Channel to come back on TV because they took it off and I don't have disney plus (besides I miss watching my childhood channel on TV).

At this point, I don't know what to do.

I would be so happy if you help me with this.

Thank you for read all this bible because is SO LONG

I hope you have a nice day/night or afternoon!

Also, thank you if you answered me to this!

Bye :D

PD: It will be so cool if we would be friends and talk about loa, manifestation or what ever you want.

Hi love,

Okay so,

The moment you decide something, it's DONE.

You said you're getting in Bachillerato de Artes Escénicas (it's the last couple of years in highschool in Performing Arts guys), then that's what you will be getting.

It doesn't matter the how or the when, the minute you decided that there's where you are getting to, then that's it.

They aren't calling you (yet)? Okay and? Like they could be still call you later, they might be still checking, etc. You don't see the message neither? Cool but we don't care about the '3d' here.

That's the ego problem, not yours. You decided that you are getting to that bachillerato, then you stop identifying with the ego that hasn't gotten it. Instead, you play the ego of the person who has already gotten there.

If you knew for sure that you will recive the call or the message, and that in september you will be walking there, how would you be acting? Exactly. Then do it because you're getting there 100%

And of course you can manifest several things at once. That's what I always do lmao. You can write everything on a list or basically have it somehwere, even if it's on your mind (doesn't matter), and if you're using loa you affirm everytime you remember something like "I have everything on my list" or whatevever. Pick any affirmation that's comfy for you my angel!

And manifesting back Disney Channel is a great idea! Who knows, maybe tomorrow when I wake up I'll have the channel back in my TV 😋

You got thiss!

Lots of love,

Safa

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by my dearest @theawkwardterrier - thank you for the excuse to do nonsense in between my last sessions of the longest Friday!! 😘

How many works do you have on ao3?

Nine

What’s your total word count?

297,842 words (I'll hit 300,000 total and 100,000 in Seaside in the next chapter so I'm feeling very 🥺)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

the best by far is you

Beside the Seaside

The Lost Ones

Soften Every Edge

When My Love Reaches to Me

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I try to because I really love the community around sharing stories and appreciate the time people spend reading and leaving a nice comment. Sometimes I get overwhelmed with responding if I get behind on it and need to just do a reset with responding on the next chapter/story though.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

In high school, I wrote a One Tree Hill fic that was very dramatic and soapy (not unlike the show) and I don't know that the ending itself was that angsty (I honestly don't remember), but I killed off one of the characters within the first few chapters and the rest of the fic was dealing with that and yeah, very angsty and over-the-top drama 😅

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I think Soften Every Edge is pretty darn happy 🥹

Do you write crossovers?

I'm not against it, but I haven't felt compelled to write one yet.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes, but I will say most of what I get now is more in the vein of feeling entitled to quick updates/being rude more so than mean/hateful (also with my fics locked to users, I can't get anon replies and that probably helps...).

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Before writing Outlander fic, no, and I only started because Jamie and Claire are so damn horny for each other all the time 😂 but I would say I usually write more m-rated stuff and only if it feels necessary for the story as part of their relationship or if I feel particularly inspired.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge beyond getting scraped and posted elsewhere.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I would love that if someone wanted to.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't and I used to have a chip on my shoulder about this in a previous fandom that did a lot of co-writing and it felt very clique-ish, but I can't wrap my mind around the logistics of how that would work to write with someone else, so I think I'm okay now lol.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I can't pick just one!!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Oof. I guess my super niche Smallville wip that I worked on and had several chapters written, never posted any of it and never finished it, so really, the only person suffering over the unfinished wip is me, but I still wish I'd been able to write that one and share it.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good with characterization and weaving in canon moments in an au.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting sometimes, because I rely on more of a vague outline/direction that I'm going and have to just trust myself to find my way through the details and that can get tough.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I feel super uncomfy about butchering a language without realizing it, but at the same time, especially with Outlander, these other languages are an integral part of some of the characters, so I still want to include that aspect.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I think it was One Tree Hill or Grey's Anatomy, at least that I actually started posting. I was tinkering away with some other stories in a few other fandoms too, but I definitely lurked for a while and wrote in my noteboooks before I felt brave enough to share online!

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I want to finish my Avalance fic that I started in January because season 7 was so good and then the CW cancelled them on a cliffhanger and we never got to meet THEIR BABY and this will be my villain origin story!!! (not the fic though, the fic is super soft and sweet 🥰)

What's your favourite fic you've written?

I can't pick my favorite of this one either! Rude to even ask!! 😭

Tagging @walkinginland and anyone else who's interested, consider yourself tagged!

[toudan]

The Hand That Feeds

“If being with me only brings you pain, then just put up with this for three more days.” Or, the stages you go through during those three days.

PAIRING.⠀Xia Yizhou | Caleb x Reader

CONTENT.⠀female reader | spoilers for Caleb's story | angst, brief manipulation, drugging is briefly mentioned, implied toxic behaviour (per canon), medical issues (source: i made it up), mental instability, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of suicide and self-sabotage, splitting (reader has BPD), unreliable narrator. | ~6,8k words

A/N.⠀sooooooooo I've been playing Love and Deepspace..... the brainrot got so bad I've written over five thousand words in two days. this is a bit more of an exploration on the emotional/psychological end, so I'm sorry about the lack of romance!

available on AO3 | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

1. DENIAL

Caleb never breaks his promises.

It’s been that way since you were little kids. In thunderstorms, he promised to keep you safe, and he did. On gloomy days, he promised to be your light, and he did. In the rain, he promised to shield you, and he did. He never lies. He always picks up the phone. He never misses any important dates. He always catches you and never lets you fall. That was the Caleb you knew years ago.

Now, he’s much more different than the scrappy young boy with missing teeth and plasters on his skin that he used to be. This Caleb is tall, imposing, domineering. His uniform puts emphasis on his coldness. He is the embodiment of power, but just like he promised you when you were ten, he’d use his power to protect you. You’d trust him with your life, because deep down, you know that he won’t make you regret it.

You’re more than capable of protecting yourself. Years of training at the academy and another handful of years as a hunter has shaped you to be your own defence. Calluses and scars litter your skin, painting them with texture and molding you into a unique sculpture. With each year that passes, you grow out of the same scared little girl you used to be, but you can never get rid of fear completely. Loud noises still send you jumping out of your skin. You still fear death no matter how familiar it’s become. You worry about growing old and fading out of existence, leaving behind vulnerable people who’ll lose you for good.

The past years have not been kind. Fate has put you in all sorts of situations to test your might and willpower, forcing you to be the fearless woman you were meant to be. You’ve passed turbulent times, cried alone as your mind tells you you’re going insane. You’ve stayed at home for days, hiding away from the rest of the world as you contemplate your self-worth and utility. It drains you, bleeds you dry, but for you, there is no time to rest. Life goes on. You must always keep moving no matter how wounded you become.

With Caleb, it doesn’t feel like it has to be that way.

He’s always taken care of you very well, making sure you get enough rest and remember to eat no matter how stressed you become, but things aren’t the same. You’ve grown and so has he. And yet, he’s still the very same boy you grew up with—one who cares for you, one who loves you for you, and one who’ll always have your back. You’re not familiar with giving yourself a break, having been living in a routine of discipline for over a decade of your life, but you find that it’s a nice change. It’s the instrumental break of a song, it’s the beach on a sunny day. It’s gentle breezes caressing your skin and it’s layers of padlocks broken, letting you out of the cage you’ve built for yourself.

For once, you can let yourself relax and be taken care of the way you’ve always been. But as the storm rages on, it all comes crashing down, and you find yourself falling apart.

The anxiety that had come with your initial arrival at Skyhaven never left. It simmers at the pit of your stomach, creeps into your veins and wraps its tendrils around you, dragging you into a cold abyss of apprehension and fear. Being away from Linkon City isn’t doing you any favours. You don’t know anyone here aside from Caleb. There isn’t a place to go or people to talk to. The likelihood of you being in danger is low, but it’s not impossible, and the storm outside does nothing to help your current state. The power has gone out, leaving you in a wide, dark and empty complex where the only illumination comes from the lights on the skyline. 

The recent events are still heavy on your mind, too. Of him tending to the gash on your leg, of him restraining you with his Evol. You don’t think you’ve been that scared since that day in the interrogation room. You remember it vividly: the dimness of that room, the collar he’d placed upon your neck, or the tension in the air while you struggled to get yourself back to reality. It felt like you were in a dream. But then the lights came on and he spoke, and he was no longer the Farspace Fleet Colonel—he was your Caleb.

Your nails have become brittle from how much you’ve been biting on them. You’ve been pacing around the place, trying to call him time and time again only to get no response. With a frustrated sob, you toss your phone onto the sofa and collapse to your knees, tears streaming down your face in rivulets. As much as you’d like to believe that you aren’t afraid of thunder anymore, tonight proves it all wrong.

All you can hear is the downpour outside. It muffles the sound of the clock ticking, yet it doesn’t tune out the worried voices in your head. It’s nearing midnight—way past your bedtime—but you can’t sleep, not even with the potential ambience of the rain. Your thoughts are racing a mile a minute. Though Caleb usually comes home while you’re asleep, being wide awake now also means you’re too aware—aware that he isn’t home, aware that he’s in danger, aware that he might not ever come home at all. Your phone is nearly dead and the candles have long since gone out. You’re trembling both from fear and frost, his sweater loosely hanging on your frame.

The words ‘lockdown’ and ‘cleanup’ grow more and more distant as the irrational thoughts strengthen in numbers. They say he’s doing this on purpose, that he’s abandoning you for good because of you, that he’s keeping so many things hidden from you because he wants you out of his life. You want to believe they aren’t true, you really do, but your fragility makes you waver in every decision. The urge for violence grows but you do your best to keep yourself grounded, rocking yourself back and forth as your body is wracked by sobs. It’s easier said than done. You don’t know how you can stay afloat when you feel so alone.

Cruel. He’s cruel for leaving you alone for this long. He’s cruel for not responding to you. If he truly cared for you, he wouldn’t make you feel this way. Fear blends into anger as your hands twitch and quiver while you heavily breathe in and out as an attempt to calm down. He promised you this morning that he’ll come home. You just need to trust him. But you’re so scared of everything, feeling like the world is caving in around you as you fall deeper and deeper into the void. The dark makes you feel isolated, suffocated. Briefly, you think of how no one will hear you if you scream in this weather. Not even he can save you. Maybe that’ll be the first and last time he breaks his promise.

You shake your head. You know better than to trust your emotions when the sky gets dark. This will pass, it always does, and Caleb would want you to be strong. With newfound determination, you harshly wipe away your tears with the back of your hand and get up. Your legs slightly wobble from the ache in your knees, but you keep upright. As if sensing your predicament, the rain outside slows down and becomes quieter with each second. The thunder has stopped roaring and the downpour slows to a light shower, its droplets hitting the clear glass of the window panes.

Then, the front door opens. A scream threatens to escape your throat. The emergency lights in the hallway outside show a male silhouette at the door, and when you realise who it is, the grave weight on your shoulders is lifted. Relieved, you run into him, making him stumble for a moment before supporting you more steadily. You wrap your arms around his neck and cry, quiet whines leaving you. He pulls you close and rubs soothing circles on your back before murmuring a quiet I’m home into your ear.

How could you doubt him like that? Caleb is kind. He’s the best thing to ever happen to you. He never breaks his promises. Whatever anger you harboured for him earlier dissipates into the air just like fog. Still shaken from the blackout and his radio silence, you grab him tightly, the fabric of his coat bunching up in your unrelenting grip. You don’t know what’s wrong with you tonight. You were doing perfectly fine before the storm. You’re mentally berating yourself for letting him see you in such a pathetic state, but you’re too drained and it’s too late to try to hide.

(You’ve never been able to do that with him.)

“I thought you left me,” you whimper, “I—I don’t feel good. I don’t know. I was scared.”

You cling to him like a child. You feel like one, with how weak and emotional and volatile you feel. The sobs slow down into sniffles as he carries you over to your bedroom before taking a seat on the bed and placing you on his lap. His gloved hands comfortingly caress you wherever they can. Guilt sinks into his bones, pulling him deeper than his gravity ever could. The explosion had been out of his control, so had his death, but he can’t ever forgive himself for making you feel like you’d been left behind.

An ugly emotion rears its head, holds him in its jaws. He wraps his arms around you possessively, allowing you to calm down at your pace. You let out a heavy sigh and fall into him, feeling boneless after the meltdown you were in earlier. There are many things you want to say, but none ever slip your tongue. Instead, you let him hold you, let him press soft kisses to your hair, enveloping you in the warmth you had been craving.

“I told you I’d always be by your side,” he finally speaks up after a moment of silence, squeezing your flesh warmly. “I promised you that, remember?”

You don’t make a sound. You shift closer to him, desperate to be closer, close enough to feel like you’ve fused into one. He doesn’t force you to speak. You look up at him, tear-stained cheeks glimmering under the moonlight, helpless and afraid yet so loving and elated. He shushes you softly, lulling you into a relaxed state as he wipes away your tears with his thumbs before cupping the side of your face affectionately. 

I’ll always be by your side.

How silly and humiliating of you to have been vulnerable like that. Caleb would never lie to you. He’s right, he always is, and you need to learn to fully trust him again. He never breaks his promises. He won’t start now.

2. ANGER

It started with an excruciating pain in your heart.

Then, it continued with pins and needles striking your limbs, making them feel boneless. Your view blurred and darkened at the sides as static took over your vision, showing you mirrors and streaks of light. Your throat closed up and you clutched at it helplessly, jaw dropping open as you tried to breathe. The world spun and suddenly you collapsed on the ground, motionless and afraid. Waves of panic crashed into you, drenching you in trepidation while your thoughts ran rampant, stacking on top of each other like voices in a crowd.

You hardly registered the muffled shouts and your body being moved as you fell limp. Your head was spinning and you felt like you were falling into coldness—into death—but when you woke up, you found yourself in the medical bay of the Fleet’s aircraft. 

The pain in your heart had subsided enough. It still ached and burned, but clarity had returned to your eyes and your limbs no longer felt numb. Your eyelids fluttered open, revealing the fluorescent lights in the ceiling, and it was only then that you heard muted conversations, presumably from those who were taking care of you. You tried to push yourself up, only to be pulled back by something. When you looked down, you found all sorts of cables attached to you and an EKG monitor on your side. Your heart rate was fast and your blood pressure was high. Caleb had come into the medical bay not long after that.

After dismissing the nurses, he’d taken you to his home and decided he’d take care of you himself. Though you weren’t keen on essentially being on house arrest, there was no point in arguing with him. Even if you doubted him sometimes, you knew in your heart that he would never lead you astray. But the way he’s been treating you like a child irks and suffocates you, making you feel like you’re locked in a cramped room.

He talks to you softly and treats you like you’re fragile. You’re several years into your career as a hunter. You’re well in your twenties and more than capable of taking care of yourself or tending to your wounds. As much as you appreciate his concern, it’s starting to feel suffocating. Maybe years of depending on him have made him think you’re useless. He won’t trust you, but he still holds many secrets of his own.

The only conclusion you come to is that he’s hiding something from you, or he’s hiding you.

It doesn’t make sense. Nothing does. How can someone so familiar feel so distant at the same time? You can’t understand his logic or tell what he’s thinking. He always has an explanation for everything, and yet, they never satisfy you at all. The weariness in your system coupled with days of being under quarantine is taking a toll on you. He’d insisted persistently that you stay put while he takes care of everything. It’s not as if it’s his fault, either. No matter how much you want to get back to work—thinking about the backlog you’re going to have to catch up to puts insurmountable anxiety upon your shoulders—you can’t, because your body isn’t cooperating.

It’s not a fever. It’s not a cold. But somehow, you always feel so out of it. It doesn’t even feel like you’re piloting yourself anymore. Suspicion rises in the back of your mind as you think of the medication you’ve been taking every morning. He never told you what they are. What if he’s—

No. He wouldn’t. Caleb isn’t like that.

But what if? You don’t understand him. You don’t know him anymore. Why is he hellbent on keeping you locked up here when you’re already capable of handling things on your own? Burying your face in your hands, you let out a scream of exasperation, feeling as though you’re losing your mind. Why won’t he listen to you? Do you mean anything to him at all?

The door knob twists. You swiftly relax your furrowed brows and turn to him with a small smile as he enters your room. The sun is barely rising, but he already looks wide awake. You can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously at the small cup of pills that he’s holding.

The question slips past your tongue before you realise it. “What have you been giving me?”

Caleb stops in his tracks, brows raised in surprise. Something flickers in his eyes, but the calm expression remains on his features. He moves closer and places what he’s holding on the table, only to pause in his movements again.

“You didn’t finish dinner?”

“Caleb. What have you been giving me?” you ask again, your hands beginning to tremble. Your thoughts are running rapidly, alarms of urgency ringing in your head and adding on to your anxiety. You need answers. You need to know everything.

He takes a seat on the stool next to your bed with a sigh. “I’m hurt you don’t trust me, pipsqueak.”

“Then what’s wrong with me?” You clench your fists, knuckles turning white from the pressure you’re exerting. “Why won’t you let me go?”

“You had a protocore-induced heart attack. Your body is still recovering,” he replies easily. You can’t tell if he’s lying or telling the truth. “And Skyhaven’s still under lockdown. It’s not safe for you to be out.”

“Do you think of me that lowly?” Aggravation drips off of your tone as your voice starts to waver, a familiar sting spreading behind your nose and tears springing up to your eyes. “Do you think I’m still a little kid?”

“It’s not that. I’m just worried about you.”

Your voice rises in volume. It’s getting harder to keep your anger in control. 

“If Skyhaven’s so dangerous, why won’t you let me go back?”

“Because you can’t. No one goes in or goes out during this lockdown. I’m sorry,” he says. It’s quick and meant to shoot you down. You want to scream, to break something, anything, but you can’t. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I’m protecting you.”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, irritated at his responses. There’s no point in arguing with him, you realise. Caleb’s stubbornness knows no bounds at times. You take your hand back and look away with an indignant huff. You know you’re acting like a child. Grandma would be disappointed if she saw your state now. But you’re frustrated, you’re anxious, you’re alone and you just want to go home—

“Leave. I don’t wanna see you,” you spit, stubbornly staring at the window. Then, an unknown fear seeps into your veins, causing you to soften just the slightest. “I don’t want us to fight, Caleb.”

“We’re not fighting.” He crouches down in front of you and takes your hand into his before giving it a warm squeeze. “But you have to try and understand me.”

You don’t want to. You don’t want to see his face, don’t want to hear his voice, don’t want anything to do with him. Ignoring him, you get up the chair and return to your room, closing the door behind you with a loud slam. The sound makes you flinch. Unwanted memories slowly fade into the reel of your mind. Aggravated, you lock the door and sit down, pulling your knees close to your chest as your jaw clenches.

You don’t know what you want. A part of you wants him to come in and apologise, to let you do what you want. Another part of you wants him to just leave you alone. But when there’s only silence, you find yourself breaking into sobs again, feeling like you’ve been abandoned. He’s mad at you. He’s going to make you leave and say that he’s just giving you what you wanted. Guilt creeps into your heart as the realisation that you’re doubting him dawns on you. He’s been so kind to you since the little stunt you pulled to get yourself here. He’s letting you walk freely. He’s letting you stay in his home. 

But he’s not listening to you, he’s ignoring you, and it makes you feel as though you’re just a speck of dust in his eyes. Your emotions rage as a tempest in your mind that destroys everything in its wake. A scream of exasperation leaves your lips as you hold your head in your hands, trying to catch your breath. 

I’ll always be by your side.

What a liar. 

3. BARGAINING

It feels as though the sands of time are allowing the particles to fall one at a time into the bottom of the hourglass.

Time is moving slowly, almost as if it’s stuck in place, and hearing the sound of the clock ticking every time you’re ‘home’ is starting to drive you mad. It’s hard not to zero in on Caleb when he is all you have here. You’ve contemplated sending Tara and Zayne some messages to let them know that you’re fine, just staying with a friend. For some odd reason, the messages never get delivered. Assuming your phone’s just broken, you haven’t picked it up since. As a result, there’s not much to do in your free time outside of chores or breaking down, and it’s tearing you apart.

Maybe he’ll rethink his choices if you get hurt on purpose, you think with a bitter grimace. It’s hard to believe that his consideration for you, something you used to adore, now felt like chains holding you down. He might as well have left the collar on your neck. Anger, betrayal, guilt, and shame. Your mind has become a tempest of despondence and pessimism destroying every rational thought in its path. You want to scream and punch the wall. You want to hurt something. You need to destroy something. Your self-control is hanging by a thread and the stubbornness is beginning to feel childish, silly. 

Regrettably, Caleb is right. The Farspace Fleet is still working on cleanup amid this lockdown, not allowing anyone to go in or out. Leaving Skyhaven isn’t an option anymore. You don’t know what you feel anymore, either. You’re stuck here with a curfew whether you like it or not, and your unfamiliarity with the place leaves you at a severe disadvantage. Though you’re not exactly a drinker, your mind wanders to how you’d feel if you were too drunk to think of anything. You don’t care. You don’t know what you want anymore.

Some days, you feel angry at him and think he’s the devil. Some days, you appreciate him and think he’s a gift sent by the heavens. The lack of a middle ground constantly leaves you teetering on the verge of falling on either end. But now—now you feel nothing at all. You’re numb, indifferent, and it perplexes you because you still feel so bad. You think you’re a walking contradiction or a ticking time bomb ready to explode. Caleb has dealt with you for years without a single word of complaint. You’re taking him for granted, says the voice in your head. You need to keep him.

You harshly slap yourself on the face to snap out of it, bringing yourself back to the present.

The skyline glimmers in the distance. Red and white lights speed by on the road and the billboards are as lively as ever. Nightlife enjoyers are undoubtedly in good spirits as they travel from bar to bar. Tara must still be awake watching her favourite show, and Zayne is surely still working late at the hospital. You want to hear their voices and be in their presence even if it’s just for a few minutes. There’s a weight pulling at your heart as your mind wanders to Linkon City. To your real home.

The walls of what you thought was a gorgeous home is starting to remind you of the interrogation room you were in. It feels drab, lifeless. There isn’t much evidence within the home itself that there are people living here in the first place. The little OTTO robot he built for you stays in the corner, lifeless as well. You absentmindedly tap your fingers against the surface of the couch as you stare into the glow of the television. Even the commercials that are meant to be fun and exciting feel fake. The programme continues, returning to the scheduled film of the night. 

It’s late at night and you can’t sleep. You’re up later than you’d usually be. Caleb isn’t home yet, rendering you beyond aware of the fact that you’re home alone, and anxiety lurks around you at every corner. Your pistols rest on the spot beside you as a precaution. With what has been transpiring since you stepped foot in Skyhaven, anything is possible. It’s strange how paranoid you’ve become over the past couple of days. You should feel safe here, you should feel safe with him being the Colonel himself, but you don’t.

“—concerned about you. He said he thinks you might try to kill yourself.”

Your gaze drifts over to the pistols. An image of your blood pooling beneath your head as you lie limp on the ground flashes before your eyes. You imagine how he’d react to your death. Will he care? Will it devastate him? Will he regret how he’s been treating you? Strangely enough, the gruesome thought doesn’t bother you as much as it used to when you were younger. Violence comes with your job as a hunter, even if it’s not inflicted upon humans. Death is no stranger. It’s more familiar than you’d like it to be. You’ve been lured by it a couple of times in your childhood, seen mangled bodies and frozen corpses in your lifetime. 

You’ve gone from craving death to being afraid of it, and yet here you are, contemplating it just like you did when you were fifteen.

Tara used to tell you not to believe your thoughts when it’s dark. You desperately want to, but it feels as though your brain won’t allow it. You’re tired and lonely. You miss home. You grieve for a man that is still alive. A long time has passed—people are constantly changing. He’s not the same man you were eating dinner with at Gran’s house. This is a man who has been through death himself, weighed down by his never-ending burdens and responsibilities, and you sink deeper into your guilt as you realise how unreasonable you’ve been.

You try to separate every thought again. Caleb is protective of you because he’s known you for most of his life and you’re the closest person to him. He put you under strict supervision because he’s worried you’ll be in danger without him to protect you. He treated you like a child, making you feel as though he doesn’t trust you. Your outburst halted everything and is slowly destroying your relationship inside and out. It all feels so monumental, so much bigger than you can handle, and you can’t help but feel defeated.

You have two options: continue this game of who can make the silent treatment last longer, or apologise to him and gain his forgiveness. It eats away at you either way. With apologising, you don’t even know where to begin; he’s never been mad at you nor has he ever raised his voice at you. He always tells you that everything is going to be okay, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

It’ll pass, is what he would say to you. And I’ll be here with you.

But when you have already destroyed everything with your bare hands, who will be there to rebuild it with you?

You haven’t prayed to a god in years. Prayers and rituals don’t work on you, you think, and so it’s not worth the time or effort. But as your eyes slowly close, you pray to whatever celestial being listens to you—give him back. You’ll never do it again.

4. DEPRESSION

Another day of silence passes and plunges you further into the pool of fear and helplessness.

Caleb hasn’t spoken a word to you. Not once. He still prepares your meals, leaves you notes, but he doesn’t utter a single word. You grow more restless by the minute. He’s angry with you. He’s just too nice to tell you upfront. Anxiety makes you avoid him, afraid of what he’ll do or how he’ll react. He doesn’t stop you from going out anymore, either. You’ve been spending your time outside his home, distracting yourself with whatever activity you can find on the streets. For the first few hours, the newfound freedom made you feel on top of the world, but it didn’t last.

Him stepping back should make you feel happy and relieved. Instead, the claws of despair pull you in closer and closer to its maw. You return home after a day out to complete silence. The floorboards would creak beneath your feet, waiting for someone to break the stillness, only for there to be nothing. When you wake up in the morning, Caleb leaves behind nothing but the remnants of his cologne in the air, small proof that he was home. The smell used to comfort you. Now, it makes you feel lonelier, because it’s not enough.

It feels like you’re losing him in real time. You’ve retreated so far into the corner that you’re fading into the background as the world continues on without you. You see him walking farther and farther away from you, disappearing into the crowd as he leaves you standing in the midst of it all. The thought of him leaving your life gnaws at you, puts you into a spiral of loneliness. You wanted this, didn’t you? For him to leave you alone?

Then why do you feel like you’ve been abandoned?

The stark reminder of his absence claws at your heart. You barely see him at home and it feels like you’re lost at sea, drifting away from the shore with each wave that the ocean carries. Getting out of bed feels like a monumental task. Your limbs feel heavy as if you’re being held back by a ball and chain. And you’re exhausted, even with the hours upon hours of sleeping and locking yourself away in your room, too tired to live. A part of you tells you you’re overreacting. You don’t even remember what had upset you in the first place, but you know one thing—

You don’t want him to go.

Being an adult comes with doing things you don’t want to do or are too afraid to do. This is just one of them. You’ll apologise to him with low expectations so you don’t break your heart, but you’ll fall into euphoria if he forgives you. He’s looking out for you. It’s not his fault. 

It’s yours.

You remember times in your childhood when he’d come get you after school with your favourite popsicle split in half, one for you and one for him. He’d ask about your day and his eyes twinkled with genuine interest as he listened to you go on and on about every detail that happened. The walk back home was always filled with joy. He feels like a distant memory, an echo of the past, and you wonder if he’s the one who changed or if it’s you.

Whoever it is, what was an unbreakable bond had shattered to pieces, and it was all by your own hand.

Self-hatred burns through you. You wish you were different. You wish you weren’t the way you are, so flawed and broken beyond repair. You wish you were like other women, those who are always on top of their game and strong no matter what life throws at them. Without realising it, you’ve already given up on yourself. You’re no longer loved by him; you’re an enemy, a monster, and the thought plagues your being.

The feeling of unworthiness lingers in your chest, a constant ache that wears down the edges of every thought. You remember the person you used to be with him before the explosion. Optimistic, hard-working, hopeful. She feels like a stranger now, like someone you used to know who left your life without saying anything. The weight of it all—the distance, the guilt, the silence—is becoming unbearable. He is slipping out of your grasp, ready to leave you as a memory of the past, and you’re falling further back. He is swimming to the surface while you are sinking deeper into vast nothingness, surrounded by the unknown. 

You wonder what he feels when he looks back at you. Is it pity, or is it resentment?

Or does he hardly feel anything at all?

The door opens, stopping your train of thought. You stagger up to your feet, quietly making your way to the entrance with your hands folded in front of you. Caleb’s eyes meet yours and you falter for a moment, every word you’ve rehearsed in your head going forgotten as time seems to be at a standstill. You muster up a smile, doing a little wave at him.

“Welcome home,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

He returns with a smile of his own. “Thanks.”

You want to say something, anything, but no words come out; you don’t know where to begin with them. Instead, you stand there and smile awkwardly, completely lost and insecure. Your smile feels fake. You know he knows it is. It’s a façade you’re using to hide the turbulence within you. Caleb’s smile is polite and you want to run into his arms and tell him everything you’ve been feeling. Your heart drops when he looks away from you, ready to leave to attend to his own affairs.

“I’ll just, um, go,” you chuckle nervously. “Sorry, you must be busy. I’ll see you around.” 

Reluctantly, you withdraw and return to your room, shutting the door with a quiet click. Drained, you fall to the ground and bury your face in your hands, frustration oozing off of you in waves. Was that a good sign? Or was he faking his friendliness just to get you off his back? He doesn’t seem angry, but you’ve also never seen him angry. Anxiety harrows you as you stare at the ground, mind racing with what feels like thousands of possibilities. You wish he was easier to read. How can you know someone for so long but know nothing about them at all?

You ball your hands into fists and tremble, tears streaming down your cheeks before you can stop them. You’re falling behind. He’s already on the path to moving on but you’re still stuck in your spot, hopelessly wishing he’d turn back and ask if you want to try again. This fight—the one with him, the one with yourself—feels daunting. You’re but a frail little thing facing off with something grand and monumental. It towers over you, cloaks you in its shadow, emphasising the fact that you are nothing compared to it.

The world is quiet, and as you sit gazing upon your opponent, you start to wonder if this fight was even yours to win at all.

5. ACCEPTANCE

Before you know it, it’s the night before the promised third day.

You were lucky enough to be able to have breakfast with Caleb this morning. It felt tense and awkward, but he still maintained the conversation so effortlessly as if your outburst never happened at all. He left for work with a simple kind smile and told you to stay safe if you do go out. Even while you’re being unreasonable, he still has your best interests at heart, and the fact that your tantrum is lasting this long humiliates you to no end.

You spent the day out at the shopping district. The city was vibrant with the hustle and bustle in its streets and pedestrians. You heard laughter and chatter, joy that was spreading among people and their friends, and you’d never felt more alone. Even in a place swimming with people, you still felt so isolated like you were just a speck of dust. Eventually, your surroundings became white noise, and time went by like a blur. It felt as if someone else was taking control over your body. You numbly went through each stall searching for souvenirs to bring back to your loved ones back in Linkon City, spending away without hesitation. 

When the sun began its descent, you made your way back with several bags of new items in hand. You’d gone over budget, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. For a moment, you were completely fine, free from the crushing weight of the world on your shoulders. Returning to Caleb’s place took away the momentary lightheartedness and replaced it with something devastatingly hollow. You moved on autopilot, stepping into the shower and taking off your makeup, changing into more comfortable clothes. 

When you were done, you sat in the living room and watched whatever was playing on the television, its audio turning into background noise as you drifted away with your musings. Before you knew it, it was dark outside, and Caleb was back home. You parted your lips to say welcome back, but he had entered his room before you could call for him. Awkwardly, you returned to the television and fidgeted with your hands, nervousness entering your system the longer he was gone.

It seems to be a peaceful time for Skyhaven tonight. The media representative of the Farspace Fleet had come out to answer whatever rapid fire question the journalists had. Reassuring every citizen, he had said that the cleanup they’ve been doing is gradually wrapping up, and that the lockdown would be lifted soon. With nothing else to worry about for the time being, officers were allowed to return home early, including the Colonel himself. 

Caleb reappears in his loungewear and stops to look at you, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. “I’ll make dinner.”

“Okay,” you reply awkwardly, unsure of what to say. It doesn’t take long before he returns to the living room again, heading for the other end of the couch. Not wanting to disturb him, you leave him to his devices and stare ahead into the television, holding yourself back from looking at him repeatedly. It’s unusual for him to be home early, so you’re equally lost, completely clueless on how to function.

You sneak a glance at him. He’s reading a book, his brows furrowed in concentration as he immerses himself in creativity. He looks peaceful, so undisturbed, and you’re still not sure what to do. Even when you’ve been a brat, he still has your best interests at heart, and the fact that your tantrum has lasted for days humiliates you to no end. His consideration of you nearly brings tears to your eyes but you keep yourself together, not wanting to worry him.

You part your lips to speak only to close them again, frantically trying to come up with a coherent sentence in your head. He looks relaxed, so the chances of him reacting aggressively are low. You know he’d never raise his voice at you, but the paranoia hasn’t left you yet; everything you do needs a safety plan. Biting down on your bottom lip, you stare down at your hands before standing up, nervously wringing your hands behind your back.

Mustering up all the courage you have, you speak up, meekly, “I’m sorry.”

He looks up from his book, brows raised as he watches you in what appears to be confusion. You want to run away and hide, but he deserves this. It’s the least you can do.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry for lashing out. For acting up. It’s just… I’m just…”

He smiles softly, getting up from the couch and walking towards you. Bringing you close for a hug, he presses a soft kiss to your temple and squeezes your frame reassuringly. You melt into his touch, a burning sensation spreading in the centre of your face as your bottom lip quivers. You whine and hide your face in his sweater, desperately holding on to him as if he could disappear at any moment. You’ve already lost him once. You won’t lose him again.

You can’t.

“Please don’t leave me.” Your voice trembles as you speak and sniffle in between words. You grab onto the fabric of his sweater tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded. “I didn’t mean it. I won’t do it again—”

He sighs, content, and pulls you closer to him, letting you cry in his arms. His hand rubs soothing circles on your back as he hums a comforting tune, the same one he used to when you had nightmares as a kid.

“Silly girl,” he says, rocking you side to side. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

No one else will ever do it like him. He’s kind. He cares for you. He stays with you even with your volatility and your flaws. The resentment you’d been harbouring towards him douses you in guilt as you latch on to him, basking in his comfort. He’s only doing this because he cares. The disaster in your mind slowly unwinds and the grating voices that had been plaguing you the past week quiets down. 

He gently pulls away and brings his hands up to your cheeks before brushing away your tears with his thumbs, lulling you into a calmer state.

“It’s okay,” he coos. “I promise.”

Finally, you trust him, because he never makes promises he can’t keep.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Alrighty. I hate saying this, but. I'm probably going to delete the ship discourse asks in my inbox. Too many in there now and my mind is too clear to want to answer them

I think we've all been harsh with each other recently. Shouldn't have had to sleep on that, shouldn't have taken me longer than a few minutes to realize that, but idk. I went to bed last night and woke up this morning and... remembered how old I am and that I have better things to care about lol. But seriously, this recent update has really gotten to people's heads, mine included unfortunately, so I think we all need to take a step back and reevaluate ourselves

To try to explain (not excuse) myself personally. I, my friends and acquaintances, and our little fan community have gotten so much harassment for so long that now that the story is sort of tipping in our favor, I felt... vindicated. TOO vindicated this time around lol. For years and years now we have all been viciously mocked, shunned, called misogynists, called abuse apologists, we've been told to kill ourselves, we've been told bad things should happen to our loved ones. I couldn't help but feel smug when episodes 7 and 8 dropped, and then episodes 9 and 10 pushed me into being legitimately petty and mean. Like, all of this harassment was already pointless, now it's even more pointless because BxA is canon. Sore winner, "they hated Jesus because he told the truth" type shit lol

But... That's dumb. All of this is dumb. They're just video game characters. I'm an adult with adult responsibilities lol. None of this is worth getting bent out of shape about, on any side. Nothing wrong with respectful conversation and debate, but it hasn't really been that this time around. It's been gloating. Teabagging. And that's not cool. So I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry if I've upset anyone with anything I've said. I'm happy about Eternalberry but I've gotten TOO happy haha. I've regained mental clarity and thus the realization that I've started becoming part of the problem. I'm genuinely sorry for that. I want to go back to regular dork levels. Being spiteful and petty sucks, even if it's "justified"

Since I feel bad for leaving those asks awaiting deletion, A) mea culpa mea maxima culpa to those who sent them, nothing against any of you I just want to put the discourse to rest, and B) they all more or less say the same things so I'll just go ahead and bullet point my responses:

TikTok is perhaps the worst social media app ever created, it is an actual blight on society to almost biblical proportions, you are a fool if you listen to anything anyone has to say on there, your first mistake was going there in the first place, Tiktok Delenda Est

Twitter is definitely the worst social media app ever created, it is a blight on society that John meant to record in the Book of Revelation but didn't know how to describe it properly because the internet didn't exist 2000-ish years ago, you are a fool if you listen to anything anyone has to say on there, your first mistake was going there in the first place, Twitter Delenda Est, let's all point and laugh at the Trump-Musk divorce instead

Hero/villain ships are as old as human civilization and fandom nerds today have gotten really uptight about them, it's dumb and honestly really bizarre considering how prevalent it is in almost every piece of media, if someone doesn't like the trope that's perfectly fine it's not for everyone it does get pretty dark but a lot of people seem to put on gestapo uniforms when they're brought up now and it's a waste of time and energy. No one is holding a gun to your heads you guys, you don't need to do it to anyone yourselves

It's nice that I've apparently managed to convince some people to be more open-minded about BxA and hero/villain shipping as a whole, welcome to the club glad to have you, I'm sorry you've had to see some of us do our "obnoxious clown" routine recently, don't worry I'm washing my makeup off rn

I'm disappointed but unsurprised that BxA fans have been getting death threats in places, unfortunately that's how it's always been and it will continue to be that way even if all 5 pairs marry and have sex onscreen. No amount of canonizing in the narrative will change some people's minds. No amount of reasoning or olive branches will make them realize how ridiculous they are. Just have to accept it and ignore them

Cookie Run Kingdom is Baby's First Fandom for a lot of people, and a lot of them are actual, literal children, so all the black and white thinking and lack of understanding and respect makes sense, sadly. This is why I put my age in my blog description haha

Rule of thumb for me personally is to just block people who post hate in ship tags tbh. Spare us both the trouble. I've only responded to one post ever, and it was because the person was asking an honest question in a reasonable way so I thought it was fine to engage. I'd rather not engage people who want to attack and not actually talk. Blocking does us both a favor, I don't have to see meaningless hate on my dash and in tags I follow and they don't have to see content about ships they don't like from me. Win-win

Now, with all that said, I want to say some things I've said before, but would like to reiterate loudly and clearly one more time:

You do not have to like Beast x Ancient. It's perfectly fine and reasonable if you don't. It's not for everyone. Whatever your reasons are, I believe and accept them. I post about them a lot because I love them a lot, and I like talking about things I like. I do my best to tag properly so my weirdo babble is easier to filter out. My posts are more or less just preaching to the choir, I think lol. It's fine if you don't like that, it's fine if you don't like BurningCheese or Eternalberry, it's fine if you don't like Beast x Ancient. I am not your mortal enemy if you don't like them. I'm happy to talk to and be friends with people who don't. I already do so often haha

Furthermore, I want you all to know that no matter what I say about ships I don't like, I don't care if you do like them. I am not out to get you for liking things I don't. Which dolls you decide you like to make kiss is not my problem. I am not your mother, I am not your dictator, I am not God. My opinions are just that, no one is obligated to listen to me or take anything I say to heart. Yes, there are ships I legitimately hate with a passion, but I do not hate the people who like them. Not at all. That's a stupid thing to dislike someone for. I talk to and am friends with lots of people who like things I don't, both on here and irl. The world gets really lonely really fast if you refuse to engage with people who don't march lockstep with you. Especially with regards to fucking Cookie Run lol

Let's all give this nonsense a rest now. This is dumb. I'm dumb. We're all dumb. Let's stop being dumb. I'm happy to coexist peacefully with others. We'll all live happier lives focusing more on things we love than things we hate

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

me stubbornly forcing myself to drink green tea and rest from my THIRD COLD THIS MONTH

[essektheylyss]

I was personally assaulted (honorific) by this essay on ambition. It's very good.

[good-beans]

What incredible luck we exist here at the same time!! ✨️💖🌻

[emometalhead]

.

[rivereverie]

Finally finished the rough draft of my fic!

The final line of my fic (as of now) and kind of the crux of the chapter.

I think it's going to be the first chapter in the Dark Urge/Astarion fic I'm working on. I'm trying not to overthink how the story is going to fill out logistically. I'm planning on writing chapters that go over the most important scenes for their relationship right now. I'm also writing as I'm doing my playthrough, so we'll see how that turns out. The only reason I'm writing this chapter right now is because River has Dark Urge amnesia and so it makes sense for the chapter to be very in-the-moment rather than shaped by any details of her past I don't yet know. Maybe I'll fill in the parts between chapters in the future. Maybe I'll write little side chapters that are just random and fun. Maybe I'll rearrange things. Maybe I'll decide that I hate it all and completely pivot. Who knows. But I'm proud of myself for getting this chapter down on paper, because it was hard to do. Now for the editing...

[torchickentacos]

do you have any pokeani fic recs for the classic vibe (read: the content is unhinged and wild)

Referencing this post- long reply but I give a few pointers in these fics' direction at the end!

I'm gonna be so honest anon, I'm not sure I want to actively rec some of them 😭 A lot of them are very of-their-time (usually 2007-2013) and, while HILARIOUS, often contain things that I really don't want to 'recommend' (homophobia, sexism, a lot of slutshaming, some REALLY out of pocket stuff that is not properly warned for, etc). OBVIOUSLY I am not reccing the yikes of things so much as the rest of it (the hilarious unhinged side), but the current fandomscape leans bad-faith and assumey and I'm just not keen to fuck around and find out tbh. Ye olde fic reccing takes a level of understanding of other time periods and attitudes and customs in fandom and on FFN that I'm... not sure that all of tumblr is always very good at tbh lol. If you guys really want me to and if we can all understand that it was a different time and that enjoyment of batshit insane fics does not equal agreement with everything said or depicted in them, then come back and I'll consider it again. But for now, I'm MORE than happy to tell you guys the best ways to find them on your own lmao. It's not hard once you get it down, and anything I'd rec, I've found through this method.

First off, FFN's search system is just frustrating imo. Between a less-than-intuitive UI and people not bothering to tag characters and ships and genres properly, using it the same way you'd filter stuff on Ao3 is a fool's errand (unless you're doing it by word count/completed/etc, which is objective and automatically tallied I think). You're better off using key words. I usually ignore the filters. The only thing I filter by is fandom at the start page (all of Pokemon is under 'games' in FFN and I don't bother narrowing it down to animeverse personally due to aforementioned mistagging or an entire lack thereof).

So, what key words do I use? When looking for that specific brand of insane campy 2000s kitschy wild unhinged stuff, I usually default to searches like "PS CS IS" (poke contest ikari, there's a lotta stuff in there, sometimes there's ORS/LGS/OS/ES/AS etc and you won't always know the acronym and it's just a surprise tbh) or trope related searches like "Assassin" or "High school" or "Vampire" other words you might find in a summary. You can also search by character names (in the search bar and not in the actual filters, which are not reliable in my experience). I'd say to go for tropes and AUs as far as keywords go. I'd ALSO say to not filter by completed, because that'll filter out a lot of two-week-passion-projects that someone dropped as soon as it got flamed, and there's some fun ones in there.

That's about it, but if you find one good fic then it's worth checking the rest of what the writer has. A lot of them have a bunch of unfinished fics and there's some hidden gems. Have a good time reading, and the search is half the fun! Come back with any funny lines you find if you want :)

[bittersweetresilience]

something i haven't seen a lot of people talk about before is that commenting actually INCREASES my appreciation for a fic. i'm the kind of person who reads constantly and tag browses and is subscribed to a billion authors so i often find myself in a sort of consumption fugue state where i'm theoretically enjoying my time but really am just kind of scrolling transiently through walls of words. but commenting is taking a mental step back from that state to actually consider a fic and give myself space to feel things about it and appreciate what i love about it, picking up on small details i might have otherwise missed, sort of like a gratitude journal or mindfulness practice and we all know what the science says about that 💕

[l0rd-0f-c0ws]

I frequently feel completely isolated no matter how much I talk to people. So that's fun

[tardis--dreams]

Feeling homicidal at work today ♡

[lizord-lord]

hyperspecific agony of the day: Want to Write About The Character, do not actually have anything coherent to say. Want To Read About The Character, but keep getting sidetracked wanting to write more. There is so much in my brain and yet I feel like it’s locked in a room somewhere I cannot find or, perchance, an imaginary rock in my shoe. I should PROBABLY just go to sleep but have you considered: The Character

[persephoneflouwers]

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