#I can’t sleep so here you go

[the-orangeauthor]

Wip Intro : The Little Letters

Reworking an old WIP with some fresh inspiration. The Little Letters is a revamped and slightly adjusted version of Silent Words of the Eldest Daughters, just so it can better encompass the things we want it to say. And by we, I mean my cousin and I.

The Little Letters is an anthology of short stories and poems (mostly poems) about growing up as the eldest daughter / immigrant daughter , and what life is really like, finally saying all the things we held our tongues on. It’s personal and raw and a little scary but we are very much enjoying it so far.

Here is our working cover:

The poems are split into a few broad categories which are:

A Future Forced and Framed

Sisters of Solitude

Hopeful Hearts

Reminiscing a Lost Childhood

Belonging to Somewhere

I’ll post a couple of the poems and if anyone is interested in being on a tag list then please, let me know!!

Image ID : A deep purple book cover with small purple blobs in various shades scattered randomly. Outlines of the blobs are slightly off centred. A gold rectangle surrounds the words ‘The Little Letters’ written down the middle of the page. Green leafy vines extend from the top right and bottom left corners of the page. End ID.

[the-broken-pen]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

[foxgloveinspace]

People jumping ship cause of the new masks is very ahhhh. Telling. Tbh.

[alluralater]

hey everyone, i won’t be as active for a while. got home last night super late after being on the road for 20 some odd hours. dealing with some family things and as an older sister, my priority of taking care of my siblings comes first before anything else. being on here is amazing for me but i don’t think i’ll have much time for it. reminder to please treat those in your life who are battling addiction with patience and care. i lost my older brother (sweetest person i’ve ever known and he remained that way up until his last night) to suicide and alcoholism, trauma and ptsd, depression and his feelings of hopelessness. talk with the people you care about. another of my siblings is dealing with the same and i refuse to let it escalate to such a terrifying end twice in less than a fucking year. remind the people you care about that there are beautiful things to live for. show them kindness and love. there is all kinds of misinformation out there but know this, you can make a difference for someone. don’t let them suffer in silence.

[monkeydlesbian]

trafalgar law who sees your belly pooch one time on accident and it haunts him every time he sees you

[gayeddie-saved-me]

i’m not even a fan of merlin fics where arthur is dead but i want to write a fic so bad about merlin and leon becoming platonic life partners post-canon

[compacflt]

what are bradley’s earliest memories of ice and mav? the bits of his perspective on them that you’ve written are so fascinating

fairly unsurprising answer but: ice: when he came to see Carole to apologize for killing goose in ch 2 of wwgattai (sets the tone of their relationship)

mav: something very benign like mav doing magic tricks for him as a little little kid. you know how your earliest memories are always a little fuzzy and always afternoon sunshine? imagine a desaturated maverick sitting crosslegged in the grass in pale afternoon southern california sunshine showing Bradley how he can detach his thumb from his hand and then put it back again. no blood, no bone, no pain, and he’s got this daredevil grin like he’s enjoying separating his thumb from his hand. can’t see his eyes behind his aviators. the best magicians are the ones who can make even their pain disappear. or, playing “got your nose,” holding Bradley’s nose up so he can see it right in front of his very eyes, NO PAIN!, and then making it disappear. “where’d your nose go, Gosling? oh, my gosh, I lost your nose!! how’re you gonna smell? i bet you’re gonna smell bad. get it? get it? —here it is, i found it, don’t worry, it’s all good!” and putting his nose back so everything’s ok. that’s Bradley’s earliest memory of mav.

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

something about that whole incident must have changed something in my brain chemistry cause my insomnia’s gotten bad again

the past few days i’ve getting to sleep at two or three. kinda sucks i guess, but i don’t really want to resort to taking melatonin again

[theminecraftbee]

Joe had tried to write a will once.

Well, more accurately, he’d tried to make Cleo write one. After all, she had appropriate custody over an entire ship full of ghost sailors that season! If she’d inconveniently died, it would have been irresponsible to leave her armor stands to figure out what to do with the disaster that had resulted. Simply irresponsible, not to have a will.

Cleo had laughed at him. “Joe, I’m already dead. I’m not sure zombies can legally have wills.”

He’d huffed back. “Zombies can be responsible with what to do after they depart this plane the same as everyone else. Or, the second time they depart? You may have a point on the legality of the matter...”

He’d ended up half writing one too. To be honest, even as they both updated it season-to-season, Joe rarely had much he wasn’t willing to leave behind or loose. Oh, sure, he was terrible at letting go. One of the last through to the next world at the end of most seasons, in fact, too many projects still in the works, too many irons still in the fire. But not being willing to let go and not being willing to lose - those are two different things, now aren’t they? So, honestly, not much in his will. Normally, just who would take custody of any pets he’d picked up. (It was Cleo, and then normally either Xisuma or Scar if she couldn’t, depending on the pet and the year.)

He’d written it in rhyme this season, he thinks, standing alone in front of the spawn egg. Well, as fitting as everything else - no one will be around to execute it.

...and no one will have to. After all, Cleo had, after much cajoling, written hers in rhyme too, and he’s the executor. So, clearly, he can’t die, because that would put Cleo in real trouble if she managed to die a second time. Which she wouldn’t! Because she had a plan!

Maybe, he thinks, Cleo had a point, back then. Joe conquers death, and Cleo’s already died once.

What -

- he stares at the moon so long it burns his eyes, and then he takes flight again, ignoring the growing horrendous heat in his chest -

- what do they need wills for, anyway?

(Nothing at all.)

[autisticariel]

in the little mermaid (1989) when eric helps ariel back to the castle, he doesn't just sweep her up into his arms and carry her. he puts his arm around her to stabilize her so he can help her walk, symbolizing how they are always on equal footing. in this essay I will-

[dykedvonte]

no I understand, tbh I kinda wish that’s how my special interests work but no they just are Always There even if there’s no active content,,, and I appreciate you saying you won’t abandon it, it’s genuinely kinda upsetting whenever authors do just quit a story without finishing it or at least explaining where they wanted it to go (like don’t get me wrong I understand losing interest but imo if you’ve gotten people invested u kinda owe it to em to give closure)

You had me till the end where I need to remind you I don’t owe anyone anything??? No matter how invested you get I don’t charge for any thing I put on the internet cause I write mostly gay fanfiction for copyrighted properties and do this because it’s fun and I want to share. CDAP if far from my first fic or au to get attention and I am aware of the people who want it to continue. I’ve been in and likely will be in the same boat again but never have I ever had the audacity to think the author or artist owes me more of their work just because I was invested.

I have and will delete fics I’ve written at a moments notice for reason more petty than i just felt like it. I make the habit of keeping up or reposting old work just to track my growth, fandom trends and as a curtesy to those who may want to go back and read it. I have literally thought of deleting it for asks just like this because it’s extremely upsetting to me to have people try to compliment sandwich me with “I love your fic and understand the burnout/lack of interest… but I want to read more so like get over it it’s not fair :/“ CONSTANTLY. Like I don’t clearly have other interests I mention or post about and maybe trying to hound me into focusing on only one may actually make me stray farther from it? If I don’t share anything about it ever again that’s my choice. I don’t need to give an outline for anyone to visualize or the ending.

Never ever try to tell anyone that shares their craft in a fandom that they owe anyone anything not paid for. Like I get the frustration, I really do but this is not the way to go about it. I continuously said on this newer blog and my old one that I would continue the fic when my interest in UTDR came back and gave the vague estimate that would be whenever new official stuff came out for it. It’s not concrete but that was my answer and it’s only changed because you’ve made me certain that I won’t be working on it in the foreseeable future, thank you for the help with the realization 🤟🏾

[floral-hex]

woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.

[corpsentry]

ass in the air on my hands and knees searching for link/allen (romantic platonic idgaf in this economy) fanwork i scoured the ao3 tag dry and 8 years of tumblr posts and now i am Two fists deep in pixiv, dodging projectiles of pathetic ai porn, desperately looking for crumbs. i’ve done it again folks i found a more or less dead fandom and got stuck on the niche pairing of the main character and the guy who debuted with a bowl cut and now there is nothing to be done but CRY LOUDLY and then (some time later) EQUIP PEN

[babyfairy]

it takes about 5 seconds of thinking about my personal life before i start to cry now i think that’s really cool and good. fun too

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, don’t read them if you’re having a bad day, they’ll probably not help in the slightest.

[archduke-enver-gortash]

i will go to sleep NOW 🫵 (pointing at myself)