#( wc; 1283 )

[saerotonins]

tied red strings of fate

ft. gojo satoru x gn!reader

request: omg .. tadhana by udd + satoru please ? 

content warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, jjk manga spoilers [ch 236], canon divergent, implied that reader knows about curses but is not a sorcerer, lowkey a character analysis but yeah, happy ending

wc: 1283

note: when i saw this request i was so happy because tadhana* is literally one of my fave opm classics! also, im sorry nonnie if this was long overdue, figured i'd give him some fluff at his death "anniversary" heh (albeit a little late). i miss our glorious king sm :(( happy holidays 🎀

song: tadhana-up dharma down

*tadhana=destiny

gojo satoru is a force to be reckoned with. his name rings a bell and brings shivers to the spine of any potential enemies he has. 

he's gojo satoru, the strongest of all, the holy grail of jujutsu sorcery. he's gojo satoru, whose power literally repels and divides everyone else and him.

but to you, he's a lover, a man of his own, an independent being who is capable of emotions. he's satoru. the love of your life.

so when he decided to call it quits, to say you were devastated is an understatement. you were left broken, calling out his name at night hoping he would appear in front of you just one, for closure. him closing the chapter of your book got you weeping and yearning for more of him. 

because even though he's your lover, even you have a hard time of catching a glimpse of who he really is. satoru is an open book, but he's hard to understand. you did all your best to ease him and make him open up, show more of himself to you, bare his truth, the good, the bad, and the ugly, all of them you're willing to accept.

alas, the universe has other plans, the challenge ended even before it began, he is most definitely an enigma, someone that you will probably never get to solve. satoru's backed turned against you was a sight you are never going to forget. you spent months moving on and try to live a life where he isn't yours. it's hard but you try to manage anyway.

so when a knock on your door was heard by the 31st of december, you didn't expect gojo satoru in his full glory standing before you. as shocked as you are, you see his eyes had sunken. he's beyond exhausted but when he sees you, his eyes lighten up and you feel the warmth of his arms and your feet off the floor. you miss this, you miss him, it was all so familiar and something you very much miss. every fiber of your being remembered the way he touched you, triggered by the way his hands gripped onto your waist for dear life. as confused as you are, you reciprocated his gesture, opting to rest your hand on his shoulder blades.

"satoru?" you managed to voice our before you feel him put you down but his embrace remain. he then rests his head on the crook of your neck, then you hear him sniffle. suddenly you feel something drop onto your skin. his tears slowly roll from his face to your neck and shoulders.

satoru's lips wobbles as he tries to contain himself but to know avail, he lets his cries out, deciding to bare himself to you and be vulnerable. he was so so so tired of fighting. as great as the title 'the strongest' sounds, it gets too lonely even for him. being on the top is lonely. and he knows it himself.

he'd rather fall from grace than live a life where he isn't yours. he was too late to realize it. he was so stupid, too cocky, too condescending that it took him facing death before realizing that he wants to live, just for you. so when he finally defeats the evils of the jujutsu world, his first thought is you. the only one who provided light in his dark and desolate world.

as charming and bright satoru is, he is often left in the shadows in the cave but when he came to know you, he was absolutely in love and smitten. you were like a fresh breath of air to him. but when he decides that creeping into your mundane and simple life would rather be selfish of him. someone cursed like him shouldn't be able to be with someone who is blessed and down to earth like you. 

but being selfish be damned, he had faced battles, including one that almost left him biting the dust. he wants you, he needs you in his life and letting you go was definitely a mistake, something that he will never do ever again.

when his cries had calmed down, you finally get his voice again after a long time. "i'm so sorry," satoru started. "i was an idiot, i love you so much and i never stopped loving you. i was so stupid to let you go, i have never loved someone as much as i did with you." satoru knows his worth is probably lesser than any other being the moment he let you go, the only pillar who provided stability and balance in his life. he was impulsive, too proud, and too strong. but the way you held him every time you caged him into your arms is like he was fragile, someone to be protected, someone to cherish.

satoru loved that. and he was stupid to think that was worth letting go.

knowing you has made him scared of death, an entity or event that could break the two of you apart and live in separate worlds, and he couldn't bare to face it. he loves you too much to let himself go and so he fought with you in mind and thank any deity that exists, he finally won.

gojo satoru is the strongest.

so seeing him crumble right before your very eyes as his knees meet the concrete is a shock. he had bowed before you first before he had bowed to any higher up. hell, satoru bowing before anyone else would come as a shock. he held onto your ankle for support, his voice begging to take him back as he spews even more apologies that he can manage.

"please, please, i'm so sorry darling, i'll do what it takes for you to take me back. i love you so much, no other human had made me feel this way, please i'm so sorry. i miss you so much, god, i can't even remember a life before you, please." satoru had begged, begged, and begged, his voice getting louder and louder and each increased volume of his voice his hurt is more evident.

with the way his voice cracked broke your heart, and that's when you knew he meant every single letter, every syllable, every drop of tear, and every breath of his apology. 

you had completely broken the strongest. but satoru doesn't mind. even if you break him a thousand times, he'd painstakingly pick up every single piece of himself to present it to you. and that's what he's doing right now.

"i forgive you 'toru," he barely hears you say through his wails and it slowly comes to a halt. he then lost the feel of your ankles as he sees you kneel yourself to his level. your hands reached to touch his face and there you see his eyes, glassed with tears, love, and regret. satoru feels the heat of your hands on his cheeks and his instincts leaned into it. "i was hurt, but i'm never mad, i just wished you'd tell me why," his heart broke when he heard your voice crack.

"but you're hear now, right? we can fix this, we can fix us." you say as you carefully wipe the tears on his face. satoru nodded as he holds your wrists and caress his thumb on it. "yeah, we'll fix us."

"together?"

"together," satoru said in confidence. 

and with a light heart, satoru leans in to catch your lips on his, sealing his silent promise to never hurt you ever again, or he will never get to forgive himself.

he's gojo satoru.

he'll always find a way back into your arms.

another note: i'm quite unsure with the ending but this is all that i got 😔 i hope this was on par with your expectations nonnie hehe 🫶🏻

[fireandfolds]

tonight, Emily must forget JJ.

wc: 1283 rt: 5 min

———

a songfic based on "music, maestro, please" (1938), a classic big band tune. featuring smoker!emily, unwanted romantic feelings, and all the angst.

tags: one-sided attraction, emily has a crush on jj and hates it, aromantic lesbian emily prentiss, angsty brooding smoke session, smoking, songfic, no romo, sad ending, hurt no comfort, sapphic in a platonic way

[theshadytree123]

10/17/23

I’m back! I’ve been wracked with a serious case of writer’s block recently, so I have made only very inconsequential progress these past few day. But today, I sat down, put on some ball music, and wrote using the Comic Sans trick, and to my infinite pain and chagrin, does work. Annoyingly well, in fact. But I got a bunch of it done and that’s what matters!

Today, we finally got to the ball! Phillipo is once again being a creepy ass motherfucker, and Claudia is once again ignoring him. We got to the ball, and they are now talking to this minor noble house. They don’t actually matter, but the Lady of that house is making digs at Claudia, so she of course, absolutely destroyed her. Because if there is one thing Claudia enjoys more than anything, it’s verbally demolishing her opponent (often an arrogant noble) with knowledge of the secrets and scandals of both them and their entire family from at least ten generations back. She will stop at nothing until she can find all of the blackmail material that exists for as many people as possible.

Also, I’ve wondered if I should use Claudia’s fake name for the duration of the ball. I like the idea of that so it properly immerses the reader into her disguise, because that is one of her specialties, but I don’t want it to be confusing. Currently, I have it so that it is her fake name, but it is italicized, but y’all think I should change it?

Anyway, maybe I’ll finally get to dinner tomorrow! I’ve got a very special menu planned. In fact, I made it for the last draft, but I barely got to use any of it, which made me very sad. Hopefully this time I get to make the most of all of the items on it!

WC 6: 1283

WC T: 18305

[hellsbovnd]

crossing the line

for ffxivwrite 2022 

day 1: cross

wc: 1283

Picture this:

A moment suspended in time, as if captured in a bottle not unlike one of the ships affixed to the far wall of the shop: a reminder of the owner’s long-gone days of sailing the seas under ostensible provenance of a trading company based out of Limsa Lominsa. An Elezen ducking out of sight, hidden by the veil of shadow as the half-bell’s street patrol—a pair of Brass Blades who were still on their feet only by virtue of the herbal leaves they slipped between their lips before setting off on their route. The light of their lantern casting long shadows across the office from where it entered through the windows, allowing them to peek inside to ensure there were no unwelcome persons on the premises.

Their footsteps pausing, briefly prompting the Elezen to hold his breath before the guards would continue on their way, none the wiser of anything amiss. The Elezen adjusting his grip on the heavy cane in his hands, capped with a simple, weighted ornament—gloved fingers flexing one by one down its length.

He counted his heartbeats, pounding like drum-beats in his ears, to keep track of the seconds before the Blades were fully out of sight, the light of their lantern pointed elsewhere.

In the business district of the city, patrols were far more frequent than he was used to, which the powers that be had largely given over to rot in the form of the various lowercase-s syndicates that called the backstreets home. It felt like an eternity before the Blades moved on, leaving the space in shadow once again.

Thirty minutes until the next one. He had plenty of time.

Time felt like it accelerated back up to a dizzying pace as soon as the patrol moved on. Leonnaux’s eyes had always adjusted quickly to the dark, which for this was a boon; in the time that it took for him to remember what he had come for, his eyes had adjusted well enough that the moonlight filtering into the shop was enough for him to find his way by. The front room held little of value—nothing he was interested in, certainly, though he had bought a bracelet made of beads of sea-glass a few weeks prior when he visited to inquire about commissions.

Such an inquiry, of course, had been an excuse to be invited into the back room of the shop, which acted as something of an office space for the owner. There, they kept their pride and joy on display: a collection of jewelry, painstakingly set with jewels hailing from far-off lands. Before the owner had retired from the Limsan company, documents falsifying their provenance had been forged to allow the items to be sold without too much scrutiny on legitimate marketplaces.

Leonnaux, however, was not interested in legitimate marketplaces.

He ran his fingers over the wood grain of the door as he crouched behind the front counter, pulling a lockpick from the pouch affixed to his belt. This was all—three years ago, when he’d first arrived to the city, he never would have imagined he would be doing this again, never would have imagined that he would be running around at night again, hiding his face and breaking-and-entering…

---------------

Picture this:

A moment suspended in time, captured inside an emptied wine bottle that the delinquents had emptied together in preparation for their first big break. The shadowed alley would not be interrupted by any Brass Blades that night, for it was not the Brass Blades’ job to care about this party of the city, where men, women, and even children went to cannibalize each other as they clawed for a spot at the top of the pile in their impossibly small corner of this impossibly big city.

The buzz of alcohol had Leonnaux feeling somewhat lighter than air, and although he was the eldest of the delinquents by nearly a full turn (only ten moons, the second-eldest was fond of reminding him, flattening his feline ears against his skull), he was far from the most senior within the group. And so, when their leader had pointed them at a simple little jewelry shop situated just off the Lane, he followed the quartet of would-be thieves into the metaphorical fire.

Teenagers, of course, were not a particularly subtle sort: thugs and thieves, that’s all they really were, and for Leonnaux it had been his first time even dipping his toes into this way of life beyond the companionship it offered to someone who was new, and alone. They came to the store with stones to break the front windows out with and lengths of wood to protect themselves with, and as the glass scattered in the moonlight, Leonnaux could feel butterflies dancing in his stomach.

The windows were easy. The glass cases were harder, warded, reinforced with magic—but eventually opened as a result of sheer tenacity. They reached in and cut their fingers on the glass grabbing whatever they could clutch in their little hands to bring back to their hideout, the bounty of their efforts promising limitless possibilities. If trinkets and baubles stolen piecemeal from the Exchange fetched them enough to sustain themselves, their leader reasoned that things that were properly valuable would net them wealth beyond their wildest dreams. If only a handful of diamond rings was enough to lift five young delinquents out of Ul’dah’s slums.

---------------

Leonnaux could almost laugh at the thought as he worked the door open, the lock disengaging with a soft click. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him, carefully avoiding the office’s back window as he slunk through the shadows to the display case that contained his prize. The memory was almost rosy around the edges, and the glass danced in the air in much the same way as he lifted the cane and smashed it through the glass. There were no wards, this time—frequent patrols by the Blades had made the owner complacent, perhaps thinking that such slapdash jobs were the purview of the lower districts of the city.

It was a far cry from the end result of the first time he had crossed this particular line. He’d already picked and chosen what he wanted to steal when he did groundwork in preparation for this job, all that was left was to slip his fingers through the case and stow the jewelry away in his pouch. Ruby necklaces, sapphire bracelets, diamond rings. Some of the most heartfelt pieces of jewelry he’d ever seen, though they would need to of course be dismantled before the valuable components could be resold on the city’s black markets.

It was a shame, really, but that was the way of the city—it cared neither for beauty nor fairness, unless you had clawed up high enough to indulge in such pretenses. Leonnaux himself was well on his way to enjoying beauty, but fairness? Not even the Sultana held sway over that.

Slipping out of the shop was even easier than slipping inside had been. The Elezen would be off into the night, and the shop owner left to sweep up pieces of glass and take inventory of what remained of their most valuable items when it came time to open shop in the morning. A far cleaner operation than his first had been, or had any hope of being: when the five delinquents had been chased from the shop they had targeted empty-handed, and Leonnaux had broken an arm trying to escape the ire of the enforcers that the shopkeep had employed to protect his assets from the sticky fingers of those not so dissimilar to them.

Leonnaux was, after all, a professional now.

[rkwon]

ghost town.

rkship — birth family.  late august 2012.

( tw !! homophobia, child abuse, child neglect )

dinner around the jeon family table is never pleasant. truthfully, it’s rare he’s allowed to sit there at all; the invite usually means something dreadful is in the midst. last time it was the news that he’d be banned from the house on his (and seungwoo’s) birthday in order to ensure he wouldn’t interfere with his brother’s party. from the smile on said brother’s thin lips, he can only imagine this’ll be worse. this is something of his creation and anything forged in the mind of an eighteen year old boy for his thirteen year old brother whom he hates must surely be best described by the word ‘torturous’. at least, that’s what won thinks, and as far as his past experiences with his brothers go, he’s probably right. 

the gentle scratching of cutlery against their plates (and then the even gentler scolding from his mother attempting to salvage what’s left of her crockery) is all that fills the heavy silence, and won’s few unwanted scraps lay untouched as he waits to be told he may eat. his eyes alternate between his fingers, carefully linked together on his lap, and the clock on the wall between his brothers. the second hand ticks just loud enough for won to match his breathing with every other tick or tock, but his ‘misplaced’ focus doesn’t go unmissed. 

“somewhere else to be?” 

he startles at the sound of his mother’s voice. he probably answers a little too quickly, too pitched, but he can’t reverse time. “no.” 

“good. seungwoo and jiwoo say they have something important to tell us all.” the grimace on her face doesn’t go unmissed either, but won’s far used to the way her lips curl in distaste. her expressions are ugly to him at the best of times, but when her eyes narrow and the corner of her mouth quirks, he can barely look at her. “it must be incredibly important for them to insist your presence at the dinner table before you’re usually allowed.” 

“it must.” he agrees, because he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do. 

seungwoo snorts quietly, but from the lack of reaction, won supposes that, as always, he’s the only one who heard it. 

“we noticed wonwoo has made a friend recently.” jiwoo’s voice has always been a little higher than the rest of the jeon men, but even so, won still shudders. a friend? the only friend won has is mingyu, and it’s been a little over three years since he met mingyu— have they only just noticed? still, he can’t imagine what would benefit them in telling their parents about the older boy. maybe they’ll ground him, maybe they’ll persuade him that mingyu deserves better (it won’t take much), but that’s not good enough for seungwoo or jiwoo. won knows that. 

“a friend?” his father questions, but jiwoo only giggles. rolling his eyes, seungwoo draws in a deep breath. 

“wonwoo’s gay.” 

won’s not sure what’s worse; the smirk on jeongwoo’s face or the nothing on each of his parents’. he doesn’t really get time to think it over, however, because it soon morphs into something far different. 

it’s a sinister look; lips pushed to form a perfectly straight line, her forehead wrinkled between her brows and her eyelashes touching from the narrowing of her eyes. where his mother can’t look at anything but him, his father hasn’t glanced in his direction once, instead focusing on the pattern of the wallpaper to his left, refusing to acknowledge the situation until someone else has spoken. 

won wants to deny it; he wants to tell them he’s not, he’s still figuring it out, and sure, it’d be a lie, but it’d buy him time to think of something better to excuse the fact that he wasn’t ready to tell anyone yet because he’s barely ready to tell himself. yet, he can’t. the words get stuck in his throat, and in their place, he coughs, splutters, eyes wide and unprepared. 

“he’s what?” 

“he likes men.” jiwoo elaborates, and again, seungwoo rolls his eyes, but does nothing to stop him. “dirty—”

their father silences him with a strong hand against the dining table. their cutlery clangs against their plates and won flinches. finally, he’s looking at him, but won wishes he wouldn’t. there’s a fire in his eyes he’s never seen before. truthfully, won is lucky if his parents acknowledge his existence at all, let alone lay eyes upon him with as much emotion as they hold now. suddenly, he regrets ever wishing as a child that his parents would give him the attention he craved. 

“even you should know how wrong that is.” the man’s voice is unarguable, but not steady. it’s not a matter of uncertainty, but instead, he trembles with rage, and won realises that he’s never seen his father like this before, and thus, he has no idea what to expect. “a real man does not lay with another man; that’s foul and revolting. we will have to teach you what it means to be a real man.” he rises to his feet as won sinks down into his seat. his mother follows, gesturing for him to stand, and when he doesn’t, his father moves around to his chair and tugs him up by his collar, large hands grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt. “by tonight, you’ll understand what’s right — you’ll understand what it means to be a real man.” 

won is freed an hour and a half later, sent to his room to reflect on what he’s been taught. he stumbles through the doorway, legs weak, and stuffs spare clothes into his school backpack and his arms into the sleeves of his coat before he quietly escapes through the front door, though he supposes it wouldn’t matter if they heard him leave or not; they made it extremely clear that they don’t want to see his face until he understands what he did wrong. 

and he does understand. I won’t do it again. I won’t let it happen. I can change. I can be a good boy. I’m not a filthy, disgusting— he falls, scrapes his arm against the brick wall as he walks. no one helps him, or stops to ask if he’s okay. a young boy, bloodied and bruised stumbling down the street in the fading darkness of the evening? why would anyone willingly get wrapped up in that mess? 

his feet carry him slowly to the place he feels safest, but he leans against the door for a moment before he knocks, wiping away the tears and formulating an excuse in his tired mind. eventually, he taps his knuckles pathetically against the door. 

“I got into a fight with my brothers,” falls from his lips before he even registers who had answered the door. “I’m sorry to burden you, can I...” he runs out of breath, gasping as he sucks in a new one. “...stay here for tonight, please?” I promise I’ll behave. I’m a good boy. I understand now. 

sujin doesn’t say a word, instead gently tugging him in, catching him in her arms when he falls. “thank you,” he whispers. I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I’ll be a better man soon. 

“won?” 

he finally cries himself to sleep hours later, wrapped up in mingyu’s pyjamas in mingyu’s arms in mingyu’s bed, completely surrounded by the boy he feels safest with, yet also the one he’ll spend the next two years lying to, and the rest of his life after doing everything he can to make it up to him. 

everything happens for a reason, he had reminded himself before he drifted off. even this. 

one day, I’ll be a real man. 

[muabannhadatquan7]

Bán nhà hẻm 1283 thông 1247 huỳnh tấn phát quận 7 giá 2.75 tỷ

QUẬN 7 : NHÀ HẺM 1247 HUỲNH TẤN PHÁT - Diện tích : 4m x 8m - DTCN : 31,4m² - Diện tích sàn : 62,8m² - Kết cấu : trệt, 1 lầu, 2 phòng ngủ, 1 WC, phòng khách rộng rãi, sân trước - Hẻm trước nhà 4m, hẻm thông, thuận tiện kinh doanh mua bán, hoặc làm spa, nail, .... - Đang cho thuê mùa dịch 5 triệu/tháng - Hướng : Đông - Đông Nam - Giá : 2 tỷ 750 triệu (bớt lộc) - Pháp lý : Sổ hồng riêng, hỗ trợ ngân hàng 70% giá trị ...................................................... - Nhận ký gửi Mua Bán & Cho Thuê Nhà Đất - DVBĐS Tân Kim Yến : 125 đường 51, p. Tân Quy, Q.7

#MuabannhadatQuan7 #NhadatCafeland source https://nhadat.cafeland.vn/ban-nha-hem-1283-thong-1247-huynh-tan-phat-quan-7-gia-275-ty-1991168.html

[stephanericherthanyou]

2016 fic year in review

i didn’t xpost a lot of these to tumblr...tbh i have no idea how many people read this blog/are here for any fandom other than knb & sometimes i’m just too lazy to log on so yeah. this is more for me than anything else (it would be SO nice if ao3 had deeper analytic features) but if u have thoughts lmk

ALSO! if you write and you want to do this lmk when you do i love hearing ppl talking about their writing...or if you’ve already done it lmk you did....

also this is only whatever’s on ao3 & totally published in 2016.

JANUARY Saccharine (kylux, 1137) Victory (kylux, 1219) Luxury (kylux, 1149)

FEBRUARY Perihelion (kylux, 1751) Drift (kylux, 2195) Like Fireworks (garciraki, 1128)

MARCH Even Keel (aomido, 1216) More than Worth it (nijihimu, 1002) Treasure Trove (midokise, 1017) We’re In Too Deep (haikaga, 1029) Possibilities (aomido, 2769) Eccentric Orbits (kagahimu + alex, 1265) Patience (mayuaka, 1054) Checkmate (akamido, 1003) Stupid Questions (aomido, 1120) Too Much (nijihimu, 1485) Fathoms (himumibu, 1066) Beneficial (iwakasu, 1070) Tangled Up (aomurakagahimu, 1034)

APRIL Stay (nijihimu, 1877) Date Night (himualex, 1096) A Little Bit (susaima, 1151) Surrender Unconditional (kagahimu, 1187) We Never Go Out Of Style (haikise, 1283)

MAY Deserving of the Best (kiyomibu, 1362) Double Reverse (aomido, 2187) Afternoon In (nijihimu, 2406) Sweep of the Sword (garciraki, 1130) Unimpressive Tactics (kenkou, 1010) Supersaturate (aohimu, 1073) Stuck on You (129, 1177) Sinusoid Curves (nijikise, 1126)

JUNE Paranoia (kylux, 1025) At the Point (akahimu, 1027) Walking Home (yuutaka, 1169) Nuit Blanche (kagahimu, 1153) Dimensionality (aowaka, 1512) One More (liuhimu, 1048) It Takes Two (nebumibu, 1628) Split the Bill (haikise, 1084) Flex (garciraki, 1726) The View From Here (nijao, 1364)

JULY Alone in the Crowd (garciraki, 1243) Close to Perfect (nijihimu, 1052) Context (himualex + taiga, 1822) Higher Ceilings (aomura, 1234) Snowbound (garciraki, 1003) True (platonic!kagahimu, 1463) Flock (kiridai, 2142) Back and Forth (kagahimu, 2123) Swing Away (aomido, 2343) Sticks like Summer (nijihimu, 1188)

AUGUST Unintentional Switching (haikise, 1029) Fame (kagahimualex, 1884) Trust Me (haikise, 1549) From Me to You (haikise, 1053) Satisfactory (haikise, 1160) Young and Beautiful (haikise, 1026) As It’s Meant (garciraki, 1301) Bloom (sheith, 2439) Stay Calm (shance, 1587) You Can’t Go Back (lance, 1244) Preserve (sheith, 2007) Special Delivery (vld ensemble, 1896) Sticky Eyes (sheith, 1535) Not this Second (sheith, 1015) Trust Me (sheith, 1805)

SEPTEMBER Incentive (sheith, 1420) Within Reach (sheith, 2954) Contained (hance, 1025) Buoyancy (hance, 1148) Clarity (sheith, 1392) Ranger (sheith, 1403) Here’s Looking at You (susaima, 1252) Stay the Course (alforan, 1059) Vicissitude (hance, 1592) Sedulous (nijihimu, 1064) Log (September 2016) (various, 6038)

OCTOBER About Geology (sheith, 1146) Re-Reflect (kagahimualex, 1836)

NOVEMBER Destination Unknown (liuhimu, 1968)

DECEMBER Selfish (sciencepilot, 1029) Something as Simple (sciencepilot, 1789) On Happiness (sciencepilot, 1155)

STATS (not actually part of the meme but i wanted to) Most frequent ship: sheith (10) Shortest fic: More than Worth it (1002) Longest fic (not including log): Within Reach (2954) Total words: 122923 (i’ll try to do better this year) Average WC: 1463 Average WC not including log: 1408

idk it’s all in excel i can fool around with it more later

QUESTIONS (actually part of the meme) My favorite: Saccharine. it’s just a really long-winded explanation of coffee headcanons.....and people liked it.....amazing..... My best: One More. It actually explored places I wanted the characters to go and some ideas I’ve been kicking around for the epic wish-fulfillment yosen-wins-the-winter-cup fic i am never going to actually write. it worked well; i got the ideas across without overexplaining; the fic did what i wanted it to. Story most underappreciated by the universe: idk Special Delivery? For once my jokes were actually on target.....i wrote it specifically for one person (who liked it) so i don’t really care if anyone else does? but i think it’s funny so yeah more people should read it Most fun story: Special Delivery by far. Sexiest story: Sedulous is the only one with a sex scene lmao. other stuff can be sexy too but u know. Hardest story to write: Sweep of the Sword had been in my wip folder for a very long time (months? a year?) by the time i actually got around to finishing it. for a long time I just had a vague idea of Masako teaching Alex something about swords and i didn’t know what to do with it. Most unintentionally telling story: uh. idk...any unintentionally telling ones are so unintentional i can’t even see it now lol