#writing is so hard yet SO fun

[spilledstars1234]

my new link click fic, currently nicknamed "golden" as just a placeholder name, has reached around 5K words, though i'm still barely at the beginning, haha! Still unsure of whether it'll be a multi-chap fic or just a oneshot, but i'm leaning more towards the first option. though i'm not sure yet, so we'll see! it is one of my many WIPs i have for link click, but honestly? I'm having the time of my life with this one! i'm so excited to share it.

and just for fun, i'm just gonna drop a little snippet from it here!

i can tell this fic might take a long while to finish (perhaps even longer than how long my last LC fic, 'Thanatophobia', took), but it's been such a fun ride so far! So please, please wait for me!!!

[egophiliac]

so on the subject of the "Crowley is secretly Revaan/Laverne/Levin/please Twst give us his name" theory, I think my feelings are best summed up as "I don't really buy it, but it's funny". like, in all seriousness, I'm not opposed to it; I have enjoyed the writing in Twst so far and I'm willing to trust that whatever happens will, you know, make sense and not be terrible. but I'm just not really convinced by the current evidence! maybe that'll change once we learn more, we'll see!

with that said, may I propose a few alternate theories about the possible Crowley/Revaan connection:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Reasons to play In Stars and Time: Canon Pronoun Warfare.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

cant stop thinkin bout charles and erik readin together on the couch but instead of reading with him charles is listening to eriks thoughts while he reads. Live mind commentary ……..

[quirkle2]

The tiles are no longer white, and the bathroom looks compressed and scintillated; hotspots of light blare in seething oranges, corners buzz in deep purples, noises manifest in confusing patterns that obscure other patterns. It hurts. The tiles aren’t white anymore. Nothing is quiet. The colors pour in. Shigeo is tired of color.

another scene from rainspeak ! suffered a bit with the colors but i don't ,, Hate this, so up it goes <3

[abaroo]

I realised I had to refine Ceroba for my au…

In the cowboy swap au, Ceroba is actually the Sheriff and leader of the Feisty Five. Clover is still the Deputy and goes by “Lucky Star”. He loves hanging around town with his Mama ☺️. I haven’t come up with a cool cowboy name for Ceroba yet, although she probably wouldn’t use one :/

Cowboy Swap Masterpost

[skitskatdacat63]

Roleswap anyone??

Tell me Fernando wouldn't make a fantastic general/emperor, and that Napoleon wouldn't make a fanastic driver/tp!!

[humanmorph]

(transcript by @violentandmagnificent)

It’s quiet here, living in your head. It’s quiet here, and when I talk, you listen, at least when you can hear me, which isn’t always. It isn’t always, but it’s better than never. It’s quiet here, living on this ship. It’s quiet here, and I remember when it was loud, I remember different voices bouncing in these halls, I remember old arguments, I remember myself. I wonder how much I can tell you; because  I can tell you; I have much to say. But you never saw me astride the Prophet’s Path, beside the Resin Heart, imparting wrath and play. So who am I? You only know what they’ve told you. So who am I? You only know what’s written down. So who am I? You only know what’s on recordings, and according to the world, I’m a hypocrite, or drowned. I doubt you can hear me, but I know that she can. So pardon my frustration, I’m just tired of her plan. I lost my life long before I understood, before metaphor became real, before I felt the wheel’s wood. I wonder what she’ll tell you. I wonder what she’ll share.  I wonder what she’ll ask of you, what task of sweat and prayer.  I long to sweat and pray, a body in the day. The color of the sun. The touch, the ocean's spray.  The last thing that I felt in life. (The first thing that I felt in life.) The touch, the ocean's spray.  I hope she tells the truth to you. (I hope she tells the worst to you.) The touch, the ocean's spray.  I loved her like she told me to. (I left her like she told me to.) The touch, the ocean's spray.  We’re running out of time, you know? (She’s running out of time, you know?) The touch, the ocean's spray.  I fear we might be mirrored, two echoes of a call shouted between two queens, two queens who want it all. I fear we might be symmetry, I fear we might be one. Make her tell the truth to you before we come undone.

PALISADE 37: Reach In / Reach Out Pt. 1

[tswwwit]

I hope this doesn't come across the wrong way but i recently reread the entire familiar au (its as amazing as always!) and its so impressive to see how far you have come as a writer especially compared to the new cult au its honestly pretty inspiring

Thank you! It's truly nice to hear that I've made progress. I mean, obviously - hopefully - I would have after all this time, but sometimes the improvement is hard to see when you're so close to it.

[vonlipvig]

if i was making scandal s4 i'd have a psychological horror cyrus subplot where he's periodically haunted by a rotting, zombie-fied ghost version of james every time he continues to support the administration in his usual immoral ways, both serving as a representation of his guilt over his loss, and the constant reinforcing of his sunk-cost fallacy way of coping. but because this wasn't relevant to olivia's journey they didn't include it.

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[kanene-yaaay]

Silver and Silk (Tickletober - Day 2)

Kanene's notes: Uhhhhh not gonna lie, this one was very difficult to me jhgfdfgh the only other damnei I know is Tian Guan Ci Fu and I don't really feel secure enough of their personalities to write them so I am not v satisfied with this fic kjhgfrdfghjk but well! It was worth a shot, let's go! :D

Day 2- "Chase" (From Tickletober) and "Danmei Crossover" (from MXTXtober

Warnings: Some insect tickling, besides that, nothing I can think of. Ticklish!Lan Xichen. Around 2.000 words.

[~*~]

Lan Xichen answered the call. As he should, as he always did. He smiled and thanked the juniors for leading him to the place and dismissed them. It was an old house, well loved and well taken care of, but that exhaled such a powerful energy that it made Lan Shizui apprehensive as he reported his latest mission to him.  As one of the most capable cultivators to deal with curses and their cleaning, he went to investigate.

Walking around it, across the nearby terrain, he couldn’t find anything related with resentful energy, no traps or alarms. The only sparks of energy came from inside of the house and so Lan Xichen began making his way to it. It didn’t really felt dangerous, but if all the cursed, strongest artifacts felt so, their work would be much easier. It always paid off to be careful and diligent.

He prepared his xiao and opened the door.

… Something was watching him.

Even with the sunny day outside, the interior of the house was cold, the prickling feeling that the thing that was in this place was plentiful aware of his existence. Sparkles of silver began splatting the further corner of the room. Taking Liebling to his lips, Lan Xichen began playing a calming song, one that talked about his intentions, about peace and about moving on, even if his heart arched a bit with each note, being exposed could be a well sharpened sword.

The feeling that the place got a little warmer wasn’t ignored as he stepped closer to the artifact, the sunlight coming from a window and illuminating what seemed to be a long string of white fabric that was adorned by multiples silver butterflies extremely similar to the ones used for communication by the Jin Sect. One of them shot quickly in his direction, barely giving him time to dodge. More and more got up from the fabric and followed the first lead and suddenly he saw himself surrounded by them from all sides.

It was not safe to draw his sword. Powerful artifact could easily connect through weapons to the yielder’s qi and, if it was not strong enough to chase it away, his core could get easily drained, only making the artifact stronger. Lan Xichen could feel how much older they were, being here much much earlier than his birth, it would be no good to make this bet.

At the same time, as much as the house was cozy, it was small and his maneuvers were being impacted. With decision, he ran back to the yard, dozens of butterflies flying right after him, throwing themselves at his face, arms, trying to reach anywhere they could touch. Twirling, jumping, contorning himself in anyway he could to not be harmed, Lan Xichen began infusing more qi to his song, the calming, reassuring song becoming more insistent, more direct.

In between the dance of white of his own robes, he didn’t realize as a part of it became astray and flew to his direction, only realizing his mistake as one end clung to his wrists, tying them up to his chest, forcing the song to end before he could . 

Lan Xichen ceased his movements as the butterflies stopped mid-air. In sync, Liebling and Shuoyue began vibrating. His eyes widened as the cloth began vibrating in a slightly different tune. His breath caught. It was tempering with his weapons. He could use Liebling and, with a quick, strong push of qi and a precise enough sound he could try to cut the fabric, but if it took ahold of them, he didn’t think he would’ve time enough to even send a signal for help.

Then, all the three of them went quiet. The cold that had been clinging to his skin disappeared. The butterflies continued to fly on the same place, not attacking further. One of the ends of the cloth freed itself and turned in his direction. Lan Xichen felt strangely seen.

Perhaps it was sentient?

He didn’t had much more to lose.

“Can you understand me?”

The fabric tilted in what seemed a nod, got closer. He tried to not think too much about it wrapping on his neck and giving him a quick end. Usually, he was well attuned to intentions of artifacts and until now there hadn’t been any stronger push of vindication towards him, still, they did attack. Maybe it was well hidden.

“I apologize for trespassing into your home, it was rude of me.” True. Of course, announcing his presence would be absurd and he would do exactly the same if he were to repeat the ambushing, but he can acknowledge his lack of manners on it. Especially if it could led him to understand better the object in front of him. “I am Lan Huan, courtesy name Xichen.” The fabric tilted downwards and poked his sleeve, attention no longer held in him. Lan Xichen couldn’t say if this was a good or bad sign. Was it offended for his white robes and looking for an equal sentient path of fabric? Or was it offended?

“I came in the name of the Gusu Lan Sect, as their Sect Leader.” He felt silly explaining it. His sect was one of the Grand Four, anyone would look at his forehead ribbon, his guan and know exactly who he was and where did he came from. He had no way of knowing if this artifact was alive before his clan was even formed, however. “And I do not wish to bring harm. There were reports of a powerful force being found in this home, so I thought it was wise to investigate.”

The butterflies began circling him, flying with no hurry and fluttering their wings in the sunlight, which made him tense. However, the grip around his wrists loosened and the fabric appeared once more in front of him, bouncing twice before turning from one side to another. Lan Xichen hummed in the same tone Wangji did when there was a social cue he should step in but decided not to. Both affirming and denying, neutral enough to pass.

It seemed enough. With the corner of his eye he could see a braver butterfly getting even more closer to his side, almost behind him. As the end of the white silk shot up to into its direction, it brushed softly on his neck.

Maybe it was the adrenaline. The anticipation that has been following him all along.

Lan Xichen giggled.

And felt the silk and butterflies stop and stare directly at him, the still tingly, tickly sensation dancing all across his neck since he couldn’t even use his hands to rub it away.

Another brush. This time more purposeful, curious, deliberate scratching the soft fabric on the skin. Xichen squeaked and widened his eyes. 

The butterflies got closer.

Lan Xichen ran.

Trees and blurs of colors passed in flashes of light. He kept his breath controlled as he dodged each obstacle, not wanting to overdo and feel exhausted so soon. He jumped, dodged, made sudden turns and twists in the hope of distracting them away. Huffs and puffs of snickers still spilled from his lips as the fabric still clung to him, teasing his control with prodding and soft brushes across his neck. His steps continued trying to escape, even if everytime he looked behind and saw the sea of silver following him he felt the giggles getting harder to control and the silk double its efforts to make him stumble. He snorted at a particularly bad scratching under his chin.

It was wise to keep running around the forest, not skittering too much into it, both to evade being guided to a trap or throwing himself too deep into an unknown path. There was a wide smile in his face and heat on his cheeks. Leaves crunched under his foot and branches broken in a way that would make his uncle complain about his careless steps, talking about how they continued to alert his opponent where he was going and making him repeat the lesson until it was recorded in his mind.

It was very difficult to focus on that, however, when every light tickle of that silk reminded him how bound he still was, how at each look behind the butterflies got closer and closer to him.

“Nohohoho!” An undignified snort that Nie Mingjue loved to tease him about escaped from his lips as the tickling changed to a series of  poking and rubbing until there were more and more snorts mingling in his giggles. “Whyhihihihi.must you continuehehehe!?”

Soon he would be caught. There was no saving plan forming in his mind and the the butterflies naturally had an advantage, they were small, they didn’t have to dodge as much as him and, mainly, they weren’t being thoroughly distracted as he was, right now. One of them flickered its wings behind his ear and made his giggling evolve to a frantic squeak, especially as another butterfly took care of his other ear.

The white fabric gave the spot under his chin a last scribble before worming its way to his armpits and drilling, Lan Xichen squawked and stumbled and fell on the grass with an uncharacteristic ungrace. He hadn’t time to think about this, however, before all the other butterflies finally reached their target, seeming to only be fuelled by each one of his reactions. They were on his ears, his neck, even walking and fluttering their ethereal wings non stop over every line and corner of his hands, chasing the most ticklish spots like hunters and honing them with precision until each one of their movements kept sending him tiny, unbearably light and soft tickly shocks. 

Lan Xichen tried to momentarily squash his face on his shoulder, lips pressed shut as squeaking yelps and crackling giggles bounced excitedly on his tongue pushing for their freedom.

The white silk, seemed much offended to no longer being able to listen to his laughter, only the smalls huffs and quiet snorts that managed to escape from him and descended to his highest ribs, pressing down and vibrating like it was fighting for its life.

Loud laughter filled the air. They held no words or sense, all giggles, snickers and squeal floating freely between the trees, and nothing more, just a single cultivator on the ground squirming and hugging himself without even realizing he was already unbound. There was a giant smile on his face as they jumped from a spot to another. Ruoye was literally vibrating in excitement! Such a lovely laughter he hand, such adorable reactions!

A few pokes on his rubs on his ribs and he would start squirming from side to side, a little squeezing on his sides and there would be funny squawks filling his laughter, some digging and scratching on his tummy and then high giggles would take over. Even his elbows! When his sleeves had show this free path of skin and a few butterflies started tickling it he began squeaking softly and running to cover his mouth. How delightful! He was almost as ticklish as his master and Ruoye couldn’t deny being impressed by it.

How could humans just go around with their lives being so ticklish? Probably the reason why this cultivator used so many layers of robes, the poor human couldn’t even walk without a gush of wind making him fall on the ground with laughter. 

Ruoye got up and saw the glistering of water on the corner of his eyes and waved for tickling to stop. Then snuggled on his chest and it still shook with his last giggles. Maybe it should talk with his weapons again before they had to part their ways, acquiesce that their human was really truthful in his intentions as their promised, perhaps share a story or two about silly humans and their silly ticklishness. It could wait a bit, however., the lull of the cultivator taking deep breaths only to fall again into a quick bout of tittering even if they had stopped attacking him for some time already being fun enough to distract it for a little more.

[foreverxdaydreaming]

x

[inevitablestars]

Fic authors self rec!

thank you sm for the tag @pretentiouswreckingball

When you get tagged, post your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love

(summaries below, me rambling in the tags)

bite the hand | wolfstar, nonbinary sirius, exes to lovers | 120k

It’s them and Remus, it’s always going to be them and Remus. Nothing can break that. Except for themselves. Which evidently they are very good at doing… So hope is what they cling to. More than love, more than history, more than anything. - or - Sirius and Remus have gotten into a cycle of breaking up and making up, except this time is going to be different.

i regret you all the time | jegulus, death eater james | 80k

What happens when James falls for Regulus and his friends lose their trust in him?

take care of you and yours | jegulus, wolfstar, dorlily, sirius centric | currently 100k soon to be 200k

Sirius plans a fun summer at the lake with all of their friends, but it doesn't go quite to plan. Friends become more, hatred becomes love, and people unravel until there is nothing left.

the stars that bind us | jegulus, wolfstar, black family centric | currently 99k dont ask how long it will be

Regulus is an author of four, soon to be five, books all written under a pen name. They tell the stories of each of his cousins, brother, and himself, and how they left home and each other. He has done his best to keep them from finding out about his books, but what happens when they do? How do the five of them fit back together after so many years?

you had to go (i know, i know, i know) | black brothers | 3.6k

He saw it coming. At least there’s that, right? At least Sirius told him before he left. At least Regulus got to say goodbye to his brother.

no pressure tagging: @calamitoustide @itsjaywalkers @magswrite @starsworth @aurorboros @galaxostars @sugarsnappeases @quillkiller <333333

[jichanxo]

date outfit kitakata save me......... save me....

[tetzoro]

good morning and happy tuesday friendz ! i hope today is wonderful for you all !! sending you all my best wishes and good energy for the day ahead !!! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ෆ