#I wrote a draft of this post yesterday but I just went on a long ass rant abt why tsukishima belong in that spot hshshs like ok

[gyllenekamuy]

here's the tier list I mentioned the other day btw (of who I think would sleep w me)

additional notes in the tags

[heartysworld]

Hope || Azriel × Fem!Reader

A/N: I decided to start posting some of my old ACOTAR fics here since I'm feeling nostalgic. Keep in mind that it's been 2 years since I wrote these, so they might be a bit shabby. I'll try and find time to edit them as best as possible, bit for now enjoy these rough drafts.

Also, tell me if you prefer them in 1st or 2nd POV!

W.C:1.6k

Warnings: childbirth

My entire body was hurting,ankles swollen,back sore and constant headaches. I couldn’t complain thought. That was the price you have to pay in order to create a new life inside of you.

Azriel and I couldn’t be happier when we found out. Both of us suffered a terrible childhood,and having a loving and stable family was one of the things we dreamed of the most.

Fae children are rare,that’s why when we found out we were expecting we cried and laughed together for hours.

Right now I was in the kitchen,preparing a cake for when Az returned from a month long mission. He left when I was in the seventh month and I have grown a lot since then. It was my birthday today too,so thr only thing I wished for was a big hug from my mate,and for us to have a nice,peaceful evening.

Evevrything was finally finished and so I waited and waited for my husband to return,only to go to bed alone that night with a heavy heart and a tear-stained face. He never came home. I was worried,he would have called out for me through our bond if something important held him,but I had no news from him.

Time skip

The next morning I was awoken from the sound of the front door opening and closing. It was Az, I could feel him. With a heavy sigh I got up,putting all my energy in as my baby bump was quite the big obstacle for me.

Paddling down the stairs I went in the kitchen where the noise was coming from. There stood my husband ,a smile on his face as he looked through the cabinets for something to eat.

‘’You’re finally back !’’- I exclaimed as I gave him a big hug as much as my belly let me.

"I am back, my love. Back to my family. How's our little princess been? She's grown I can tell." - he asked,loving tone in his voice as he put his hands on my lower stomach as our baby kicked.

"Both of us missed you dearly. Seems like she can sense her father is back too." - I smiled, giving him a small kiss.

"I expected you last night, Az. You had me worried. What happened that kept you for so long?" - I asked.

"Elained asked if I could visit her, when it was time to leave  it was already late so she offered me to sleep over and come back in the morning." - he explained, a smile still on his face.

My face faltered.

"You... You went to see Elain?" - I asked again, needing to hear that sentence one more time.

"Yeah, that's what I said." - he replied.

In this moment nothing but fury resided in my body. He left me alone on my birthday to go meet with another woman!

"You left me here alone last night so you can go see Elain!" - I shouted, making Azriel jump.

"Hey, calm down. I don't see a problem, love. I'm here now am I not." - he replied, trying to take my hands in his, but I shoved him away.

"Why are you mad Y/N. Elain is my friend, I have the right to see her." - he said.

"And I'm your wife! The woman pregnant with your child! And instead of coming home to us you went to another woman!" - I screamed now.

"You being my wife doesn't mean I can't visit my friends, Y/N. If you're jealous just say it. Don't act like a child." - he raised his voice.

"I have nothing against you meeting your friends, but not friends who you have a romantic past with. Ever since I got pregnant you have been away more time than you've been home. I'm staring to feel like you're not ready to become a father. In case you've forgotten it was my birthday yesterday. That's why I expected you to come back-you promised. "-I said, my voice was starting to crack as my hormones took their turns.

" Y/N... "-started Az. His voice was laced with pain and regred.

" There's food in the bottom left cabinet if you're hungry. I'm going to bed. You can do whatever you want, go give the cake to Elain if you wish. I don't care." - I murmured as I waddled up the stairs as tears started going down my cheeks.

A few minutes later I heard the front door open and close, indicating that Azriel left. He actually left. That was the last straw as more tears appeared and I crumbled down on our bed, crying.

As if once again being able to feel my pain, my baby started kicking energetically.

"Calm down, my love. Daddy loves you. I hope he will never abandon us, or at least he will never abandon you."-I said quietly as I patted my belly.

I have fallen asleep when I was awoken late at night by a sharp pain in my lower stomach.

Fear filled me as I got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom.

I took off my underwear only to see a big spot of blood on it and more streaming down my legs.

"Azriel... Azriel please if you can hear me, something's wrong with our baby, there is so much blood. I'm scared. Please come back!"-I sent down for him as I came back to the ned holding my stomach as I cried.

There was no one else I could call for. The only thing I had for communication was my bond with Azriel, and he was Gods know where.

" Please baby, don't leave us so soon. We waited for you for centuries. Don't do this to us." - I cried more as I layed in our bed, pain shedding me into pieces.

I dont know how much time passed, I was barely keeping myself conscious, my breaths slow and shallow. It was then when I felt someone's presence in the room and someone else coming to my side.

"Y/N... hey look at me, love. I'm sorry it took so long to get here, I'm sorry. I brought Madja with me, everything will be alright. Please just hold on." - he said as he caressed my cheek with his rough hand.

"Azriel..." I barely got it out of me "Save our baby, if I don't make it-tell her about me..." I breathed out. "Let her know her mother loved her.... endlessly." - I finished, I was starting to see dark spots when I heard Madja speak.

"The baby's wing tore a part of the inside tissue, that's where the bleeding's from. Aside from that, it is too early for it to be born. The chances of survival are low,but I'm going to give my best." - she said as she got to work.

"Azriel."-I loomed into his beautiful eyes once again. "I'm sorry for screaming at you.... I love you. So much." - I said as I put my hand on his cheek.

"Stay with me,love. It's all my fault. I should've came back as soon as I could, and I shouldn't have left you in the morning. Stay with me, ans we'll see our beautiful girl very soon. You hear me?" - he said as he shook me so I could stay conscious.

Time skip

Hours went as I layed on the same spot in our bed as I pushed and pushed. Madja gave me some kind of tonic to keep me awake and make the pain bareable.

The rest of our friends winnowed in soon after Azriel arrived. Feyre was at my side, guiding me through the process. Azriel went out of the room after lots of convincing from me. He needed a break from the awful scene before him.

I have no idea how much longer it went before I heard a small cry echo in the room as I felt instant relief. My body healed itself hours ago, but our baby was still very small and hard to take out.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as they put her against my chest. She was so small, smaller than normal, but she was here and she was alive.

Both of us fell asleep before seeing Azriel, I was too tired to keep my eyes open, much rest was needed.

I don't know for how long I slept but when I woke up I was greeted by the beautiful sight of my husband holding our daughter, whispering sweet nothing to her as he showered her with kisses.

"Azriel." - I said as his head snapped in my direction. He slowly came to my side, nestling the small child in my hands.

"I am so sorry for what happened yesterday Y/N. I want you to know that I love you much. I never intended to hurt you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." - he said, giving my forehead a kiss.

"I'm sorry too, Az. I was tired and on edge. And when you told me where you went I lost it. I hope you can forgive me too." - I said, offering a small smile.

"So... have you thought of any names?" - he asked, looking at our daughter once again.

"Hope, I want to name her Hope. Because she's what will give us power and will to keep going. For her." - I said.

"So Hope be it." - he said as he kissed me again.

We spent the rest of the day enjoying our new addition to our family and thinking about tje bright future that waited for us.

If you're interested in more of my fics let me know!

[solo-ojo-jojo]

Chenford Fanfic Teaser: Sequel to That's What Partners are For

The Rookie Fanfiction | Chenford | Rated E | Intentional Seduction | Undressing

Remember when I wrote a Chenford fic inspired by this moment from Bones?

📸 @romanticallyterrible [original post here]

Well, the sequel is inspired by this moment from Psych.

📸 @onscreenkisses [original post here]

I started writing the sequel right after I finished the first installment. It's been kicking around in my drafts, and I occasionally shake off the dust and work on it. I've made quite a bit of progress this time, and wanted to share a little bit of what I've been working on.

Here are a couple of short excerpts from the first half of the story.

Title TBA (Rated E) After the bomber is caught, Lucy and Tim give into their temptations. Tim decides it's his turn to undress Lucy.

... But every signal he had been getting from Lucy, combined with a gut feeling that grew stronger by the moment, told him—screamed at him—that she wanted him, too. 

Here goes nothing.

Tim leaned a hip on the bar, facing Lucy. Close, but just out of reach. While they waited for a bartender to notice them, Tim lowered his lips to Lucy’s ear so he could be heard over the music. “Do you trust me to order for you?” he asked. “I think I’ve got a good idea of what you like.”

She wouldn’t have expected for such simple words to have such an effect on her. But something about the way Tim said those words filled Lucy’s head with ideas that she had tried to abandon after she walked out of the men’s locker room yesterday afternoon, evidence bags in hand.

Tim had pulled away from her ear, but lingered nearby, not having returned to his full height. Lucy looked up at him slowly. “Yes,” she said. “I trust you.”

“Two glasses of San Matias Cristal, dressed, please,” Tim told the bartender as he handed over his credit card.

“Opening up a tab?” the bartender asked.

“No, I’ll close it out,” he told them. He didn’t plan to be at the bar for very long if things went the way he had hoped.

“Tequila?” Lucy asked him, surprised. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you drink tequila.”

The heat building inside of Lucy’s body felt like no match for the look in Tim’s eyes when he said, “I wanted to try something new tonight.”

...

“Cheers.”

Their glasses clinked together and Tim’s eyes followed Lucy’s movements as her tongue peeked out to swipe a taste of salt from the rim of her glass before she took a sip. She closed her eyes as she savored the smooth taste of the tequila Tim ordered for her before letting the icy liquor slide down her throat.

Tim took a drink from his own glass, all the while keeping his eyes on her as she lifted the lime garnish to her lips and sucked its juice.

He was overcome with his need to touch her.

His fingers reached for her face and his thumb skimmed across the tip of her nose.

Tim leaned in, his lips next to her ear. “Salt,” he explained, his voice rumbling.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly.

As his lips pulled away, Lucy could feel the warmth of Tim’s breath coasting over her cheek. But Lucy couldn’t tell if the movement bringing their faces closer together came solely from Tim, or if she herself was drifting closer. Their noses now brushing up against each other, Lucy could sense that their lips were just a hair’s breadth apart.

She looked up at him through her lashes. “What are you doing, Tim?”

“This? It’s just… very close talking.”

Lucy shifted in her seat to bring their conversation (and their lips) even… closer. “Mmm, I see,” she said, enjoying the vibration that was created between their bodies.

“And what do you feel like talking about?” she asked, briefly closing her eyes, then opening them to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

Tim placed his fingers on top of her wrist so lightly, it felt like a whisper.

“You.”

Yes folks, Tim does indeed try something new that night. 😏

The sequel is rated E, so instead of posting a second chapter of the T-rated That's What Partners are For, it will be part of a series.

The series is tentatively titled Take It Off and can be found here on AO3 so you can subscribe for updates.

[amtrak12]

ATTENTION ALL BERING AND WELLS FANS.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get my fanfic But You're Friction to 10,000 total hits on AO3. (link above)

Why? Because I'm in the process of writing a very long Lucifer fic and given both the larger fandom size and the longer length of the story, that fic is swiftly on its way to hitting 10k hits which would be my very first time ever hitting that milestone. And as awesome as that is (it is very awesome!!), I kind of like the idea of one of my Bering and Wells fics hitting 10k first, and But You're Friction is soooooo close!!!

^Screenshot of my stats graph on AO3. But You're Friction is on the left with 9,964 hits. (It was actually at 9,959 hits for several months but I just had a guest click through and read the whole fic yesterday so it went up!) My Lucifer fic, Can We Keep Her, is the bar on the right and it's currently sitting at 8,833 hits and closing fast. I was getting about 700 hits per chapter, but this latest update has already netted me 900. Which means my very next update could cross over the edge.

Am I proud of my Lucifer fic? Absolutely. Do I think it's better written than my Bering and Wells stuff? Yes, obviously. I've learned a shit ton in the last decade of writing. BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT!!!

Getting But You're Friction across the 10k mark first is about the nostalgia. It's about the pride. It's about every small fandom -- but especially OUR little small fandom -- proving that we work harder than anyone else!!

This Bering and Wells fic is a high school AU with smut that I swear I wrote in a fever dream because it only took me like a week to draft with no planning and no plotting. I refuse to reread it because of said smut scenes, but I remember feeling very proud of it at the time and the response was extremely positive so I feel like the quality could hold up.

It is 5 chapters and 20,000 words long so I either need 8 people to click through the entire fic or 36 individuals to click on the story link to get us to 10k hits. You are under no obligation to read or comment on the fic. I literally just want my best received Bering and Wells fic to be the first of my fics to hit 10,000. lol

Also June 2023 was the ten year anniversary of when I posted the fic, so it seems extra fitting to hit 10k hits this year :) We have until October 20th (my next Lucifer update) to do this. So let's go nerdsbians!! \0/

Thank you for your time! Hope your current blorbos and faves are keeping you well fed on awesome meaty stuff! <3

[orelsemystery]

Me & Academia & Publishing & Pittsburgh

I’ve just posted the first three chapters of Or Else. I wrote this yesterday in anticipation. 

I’m sitting in Mellon Park, in the shade of a big tree, drafting a blog post for tomorrow. Off to my right, I can see the bell tower of East Liberty Presbyterian and the white dome that I’ve always assumed is an athletic facility that either belongs to the park on the other side of Fifth or to the Ellis School for Girls, I’ve never been sure which. In some summer in the late 2000s or early 2010s, I used to cross this park on my way back from Shadyside to the house in Point Breeze where I was staying with family friends. I would stop and sit on a bench and read that week’s edition of City Paper. Some other summer, I lay on the hill in the sun and read P.N. Furbank’s biography of E.M. Forster. Now I am here, again, in 2024, because I chose to be.

Academia insists that you move wherever the job takes you, and since traditional tenure-track (i.e., stable and well-paying) jobs are so horribly hard to get these days, you feel guilty if you’re not grateful for whatever you get, no matter how bad a fit the location is. Or so my friends say. I didn’t get a tenure-track job after getting my PhD in English. I don’t have any real idea how much that was my own fault: whether it was because I stubbornly chose to do an unconventional project; whether I didn’t try hard enough to legitimize my project in my job documents; whether I hadn’t published enough. Maybe I hadn’t worked hard enough. Maybe I wasn’t that strong of a scholar. Or maybe there were just so few jobs to begin with that the academic job market is in large part simply a crapshoot, and I didn’t win.

It’s possible I just didn’t stick it out long enough. I don’t know. But I suspect that when all is said and done, the underlying reasons I am here and not there can be boiled down to two things: (1) I want to make my own choices about what my work looks like and (2) I want to be happy in my own life.

So after I finished my Ph.D., I moved back to Pittsburgh. I love the city—it’s where I went to college, and I’ve missed it ever since leaving—and there are enough schools here I figured I could at least adjunct somewhere. I’m actually getting to teach literature right now, which I love doing and am very grateful for. But I am on no ladders to academic glory. 

For the last couple years, however, I’ve been clinging to another possible means of professional success: I could publish the novel I wrote as part of my dissertation. Then I’d be impressive in another way. I queried a number of literary agents, at an inadvisably slow pace, shooting off emails when I could stand the accompanying anxiety. It felt clear, though, that what I was going to need to do to get anywhere serious was network, some of which (workshops, conferences) costs money. And I hate networking and I hate paying money for someone to give my work a chance. I am so cognizant of how many people can’t afford that, and how unfair the whole system can be.

And anyway…I didn’t really want to make my work more marketable. Which is inevitable if you’re going to try and market it.

So I made a different choice, again. To put the novel, the project, on a website of my own. I’m lucky and I am privileged to be able to make this choice—I have a job, for now, that pays enough. I have a safety net in my family and friends. I have a cat but not kids; I have rent but not a mortgage. I have an advanced degree. I can afford to not pin any financial hopes on writing.

Yet it’s hard not to feel like a whole litany of well-meaning teachers and colleagues from over the years are going to be disappointed in me for doing it this way. Or just…disinterested. People who would perk up their ears at a commercially published novel will simply pass by one posted online for free—even if they have good politics generally around capitalism and professionalization. There was only one right answer to the head of my undergraduate drama school’s question, “What are you working on?” and it always involved something that would look good on your resume (and the school’s promotional materials).

Oh well! Here I am! Sorry, everyone: I love amateurism. I love art and writing that people do because they want to. I love fanfiction. I love community theatre. I love zines, I love high school marching bands, I love queer craft fairs. I love adults who rediscover Shrinky-Dinks and polymer clay and make potholders for their friends. I love local book clubs and writing communities on Discord. I love Pittsburgh—I think Pittsburgh’s whole vibe is slightly wonky DIY: faded old signs painted on brick buildings, tree roots pushing up through sidewalks, folding chairs saving parking spots, memories of the Beehive and Garfield’s Nightmare and whatever happened to that one ice cream place that became an illegal banking cooperative or something? Or Else is set in Pittsburgh, at a made-up university I’ve shoved next to Pitt and Carnegie Mellon (who says there’s not room in Oakland), and it’s about people who sort of…make their own worlds, for better or worse, who live one foot in the kind of scrappy imaginary I find so possible in this city. And I am glad to be here, in Mellon Park, writing this, watching a dog with the spindliest legs I have ever seen in my life walking past (sorry Juno), preparing to launch my big little project into the world.

Later update: After I finished writing this post, I walked around the garden in Mellon Park. I was appreciating the Pittsburgh hallmarks I’d just been writing about—bumpy bricks, crumbling walls, etc., and then I tripped on an uneven sidewalk and skinned my knee. I will take this as a reminder that choosing one’s own road comes with obstacles of its own. I am sticking some metaphorical antiseptic into my metaphorical knapsack as I venture down the mysterious path through the woods.

<3 Miranda

[hismercytomyjustice]

So I started writing this yesterday and then I got SO MANY FEELS and it was SO LATE but… 

Def got a little too into my own head earlier with the finale  approaching for my BG3 fic. So I reread the draft I have of the final three chapters. And I just…I’m so happy with them??? (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) I don’t even feel like they need any major overhaul editing or anything either.

I have NEVER felt confident about writing endings, but I’m feeling alarmingly confident about this one??? Like, even my OCD doesn’t seem to have anything disparaging to say??? ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!??

I mean, I truly hope other folks feel the same way when they get to the end. But right now I’m just so fucking happy that I do?

Wildly long self-indulgent post about my BG3 fic and the writing process for it below, if that’s something you’re into.

Writing this fic has been such an unexpected rollercoaster of emotions for me. It’s taught me so much about how my OCD manifests and impacts my writing, in addition to building my writing confidence back up in general.

It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written (just about twice as long as the longest before that?!) and I feel like I’ve grown SO MUCH as a writer while working on it for the past six months. I went from thinking I would never write description well to finally feeling like I get it??? I mean I’m sure I still have loads more room for improvement, but I’ve always felt like description has been my biggest weakness as a writer and I finally don’t feel that way anymore??!!

Same with writing endings too!!! I def feel like I have a lot more progress to make on that front, but like…oh my god I actually wrote one I’m super proud of??!!

Not only that, but this fic taught me I actually can jump around while writing??? I’ve always written super linearly before and tbh I still do, but when I got stuck on chapter 12/13 for almost two months, I skipped to the very end because I had an idea spark for that part and because of that I’ve been able to lay more of the groundwork for what I hope is a satisfying wrap up.

God, I was so fucking mortified to bring up my struggles with fanfic writing to my therapist. In retrospect I realize that’s because my OCD spirals around it were getting out of fucking control…

Just a super fun refrain of:

“This isn’t a big deal, you’re doing it for fun. It’s ridiculous how upset you are over a literal hobby no one is forcing you to do. It’s just a fanfic. No one cares about it. It’s not even real writing. No one will even read it or like it anyway. You’re wasting your time. See? You can’t finish anything. You’re stuck at the 60k mark because you lack discipline and commitment. You can’t do this, so you’ll never get anything original published. How many things have you started now that you’ve never finished? You haven’t finished writing anything in almost a decade. You’re wasting your therapist’s time talking about something so absurd. She’s going to laugh in your face.”

And fucking on and on and on.

But like…none of that was true??? FUCKING SHOCKING THAT MY OCD WOULD LIE TO ME, AMIRITE?! When has it EVER done that?!

I just wound up sitting there telling my therapist I was stuck and I had lost the passion for the fic like I always did and I’d wasted three months and 60k words on a story that was never going anywhere because I wasn’t good enough to write it.

And she asked me “What would help you get unstuck?”

And I thought about it and was like: “Maybe if I start posting it, folks will read it or bare minimum I’ll get enough kudos and hits to make my brain go brr enough to finish it?” All I wanted at that point was to regain the drive to finish writing the story I’d put so much heart and time and effort into already.

I mean OF COURSE I hoped folks would read it and like it and leave kudos and omg maybe even leave a comment??!! And since BG3 was and is such a big/popular fandom I was also hoping maybe I could surpass the level of achievement I hit with my multichapter Cardcaptors fic a few years back, if nothing else.

And like, as of last night, this is where I was sitting with both:

And YES. I know that stats are NOT what I should focus on at the end of the day. But GOD IF I DON’T CRAVE THE EXTERNAL VALIDATION!!! Don’t we all…

And like, honest to god, this fic doesn’t have to surpass my CCS fic! One of the absolute (hehe) best things to come from this whole experience has been getting to interact with other cultured Bloodweave sommeliers (haha). I seriously cannot get over just how nice and encouraging and fucking amazing everyone has been with their comments!!! And that multiple people have taken the time to comment on each chapter as they come out??!! Like, I am living the fucking dream!!!  (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

I get so fucking excited every week to share my newest chapter because I desperately want to know how my pressganged Bloodweave book club will react. Like, my HEART IS SO FULL OMG!!!! They are gonna make me cry frfr!!! 

I have personally been such a terrible commenter in the past on fics I’ve enjoyed (i.e. I didn’t fucking comment), but I am trying to become a reformed member of AO3 society because the support I’ve gotten (especially when the doubts start to creep in) has been incredible!!! 100/10, would definitely recommend!!!

And like, some other great stuff has happened that helped me so much along the way too! I read The Accountant’s Guide to Taking Down an Evil Vampire Lord (and maybe bagging Astarion while you are at it) by Cinnamontails. While I was reading it, writing description FINALLY FUCKING CLICKED for me! I was just like “Omfggg?! This is what people are talking about when they say description should do more than one thing!!!” Up to that point I pretty much believed that was like a sort of writing koan or something. Something everyone says, but that isn’t actually meant to be understood because it’s unknowable? Or something like that.

Lemme tell ya, I fucking love learning about writing. I’ve gone to countless writing panels at cons. I listened to podcasts on writing for YEARS (Writing Excuses, I Should be Writing, Ditch Diggers, etc). I’ve read so many books on writing. Watched YouTube videos, took a class, etc, etc! But for some reason the “description should do more than one thing” adage just did not compute. Until I read that fic!

Up to that point, description had always felt like something I threw in as padding around all of my dialogue and character navel gazing. And I fucking STRUGGLED with it as a result. It always felt SO FUCKING BORING to me. I hated it, especially because it never came easily. But now I FINALLY understand and I LOVE writing it!!!!

I went looking for some more tips on writing description and picked up Description: A Busy Writer’s Guide by Marcy Kennedy, which broke things down even further for me!

I felt personally attacked by this part in particular:

“Irrelevant description is what gives description a bad name.

You might think that’s obvious, but so often in my editing work, I’ve seen authors describe things in detail that have no bearing on the story at all. Usually they do it because they’ve been told at one time that they weren’t including enough description and no one told them what kind of description they needed to start including or how to properly include it.”

I am not exaggerating when I say, until very recently, to write description I would find photos of locations, buildings, character inspo, etc and try to focus on what someone more visually inclined would want described because I don’t have a super robust mental image generator. I’ve never had the “I see a movie in my head” while reading gift. Super jelly of folks who do tho! I get more like…flashes maybe? And I didn’t even realize that until I actually made myself pay attention to what was going on in my head while reading fairly recently. I sincerely thought I had aphantasia and people were exaggerating when they said they could picture things in their heads.

Like, when they’d tell you to look at something then close your eyes and envision what you remembered in school (was that just me?). And I’d be like “Okay so we’re just closing our eyes and trying to remember the individual things right? No one actually sees anything.” COLOR ME SURPRISED to find out that WAS NOT the case!

I don’t think I have aphantasia anymore, but like, on the scale from 0 (aphantasia) to 10 (see a movie in my head), I’d say I’m maybe a 3? I can’t envision a whole room or even like…a moving image? Moving images in my head are almost more like extremely short flip books. And the more I try to focus on them, the more out of focus they become. I also really struggle to envision things I’ve never seen before. Like, as a literal picture in my head I mean. It’s easier for me to imagine like…a picture I took of my dog than my actual dog? And like, if I try to do something like envision my bedroom or something, I just kind of pick a point and go from there like “Okay this is what my bed looks like, now it’s gone. This is what my dresser looks like, now it’s gone. This is what my end table looks like, now it’s gone.” It doesn’t form a bigger picture in my head. It’s more like a mental checklist where I think about the different attributes of something (like the color of my sheets, or how many pillows I have) rather than actually see something like the whole bed? Idk. That’s the best way I can think of to explain it.

Ngl, that might very well be part of why writing description like was so difficult and SO FUCKING BORING to me. I didn’t really see things in my head and I’m not a very visual person in general, so I don’t focus a ton on those details anyway as a reader or when I’m physically somewhere. So l felt like all my description was so hamfisted and awkward as a result, and I had absolutely no concept of how much was enough or too much.

But then she goes on in the book to say:

“All description filters through the viewpoint character and is colored by who they are as a person.” And I was just like…ohhhhhhh!!!! That’s exactly what that fanfic did!!!

And then:

“What they notice will also be largely influenced by their circumstances. A character heading into a job interview will be hyper aware of their own appearance, whereas a character who’s crawling around in a cave looking for hidden treasure won’t. A character who is running for their life will notice different things about their surroundings than will a character who isn’t in immediate danger.

If it’s not something they would notice, then we either have to leave it out or come up with a believable, realistic reason for them to notice it.”

Like. OF FUCKING COURSE?! THIS MAKES SO MUCH SENSE?! HOW DID I NEVER GRASP THIS BEFORE?!

Marcy Kennedy goes on to give other tips like “a good description is specific” and “a good description allows less to be more.” And about how it’s more important to focus on specific, unique details than to try and describe everything about the scene/character (like I would do before). Like, focusing on stuff readers will actually remember and that paints a clearer picture.

She also delves into the specifics of writing for the five senses (another thing I always heard suggested, but never felt I executed well). And on how people naturally notice things from bigger/more obvious to smaller/more specific. She also talks about the psychology behind the things people naturally notice and why and how it’s impacted by who they are as a person (ex. the career they have, their gender, etc).

She gets even more specific with stuff like:

“Description for the purpose of grounding should be quick and needs to happen within the first few paragraphs of a new scene.

If time is the only thing that’s changed, we’ll need to use even less description than if our characters also changed location.

As a general guideline, describe a place in the most depth the first time that setting shows up on the page. Later on, unless something important has changed, a brief re-orienting passage is enough.”

I have DESPERATELY been searching for something this specific. Like just PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TELL ME HOW MANY SENTENCES/PARAGRAPHS TO USE AND HOW FREQUENTLY TO USE DESCRIPTION. And ON GOD that’s exactly what this book does! ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧

I still need to finish reading it but omfg I about lost my mind when I found the holy grail I’d been searching for.

And like, I’m sure my description still needs work and I’m using a sledgehammer instead of a regular hammer sometimes. But I’m learning and growing! And I’m sure it’ll become easier with practice! Hell, half the time I’ll write something and not realize until, oh I don’t know I’ve pretty much finished my fucking 100k word fanfic, that I fucking never really physically described my Tav?! I shouldn’t have said that… Now everyone will notice if they hadn’t already.. FUCK.

BUT! My absolute FAVORITE thing to write is character and being told “write description through the lens of your character” got me so fucking hype. I’m not sitting there anymore like “What’s in this room, what would a reader who sees what they read in their head (definitely not me) find most interesting?” and am instead like “What would Character A notice in this room? How are they feeling right now? What does X remind them of? What are they thinking about? What do they like and dislike, how does that impact what they pay attention to?” And I FUCKING LOVE IT!!!!

And I AM SURE this is not groundbreaking information for 99.9% of folks but IT WAS FOR ME!!!!! It has easily doubled my word count for everything I’ve written since then and I’m not stuck massively overthinking it all now! And I actually enjoy it! It doesn’t feel like a miserable slog anymore!

And this is THE MOST OBVIOUS in how my BG3 fic chapters literally DOUBLED OR TRIPLED in length after I got my hands on this book in the middle of writing the fic lol. Almost every shorter chapter in the first 75% of the fic was written prior to me reading this book. And the longer ones? Those were added after! 

Like, chapter two originally didn’t include the Owlbear scene. It just ended after Astarion walked out of the fortress. Meanwhile, chapter five and six DID NOT EXIST. I kinda panicked when I realized the story felt too Astarion heavy when it was supposed to be about both of them. I also felt like the pacing for the story in general was off (too fast). So I went back and added those. Leon and Victoria WERE NOT IN THE STORY until I went back to add chapter five.

Since I was doing alternating POV, if I added another chapter for Gale I needed to add another for Astarion. So I decided to make Astarion’s about them needing to find Gale an artefact in the Underdark. I started researching artefacts there that would satisfy the orb, but wanted to dig deeper and lay a little more groundwork for Astarion starting to care more about Gale and learning to be more kind/compassionate overall.

My headcanon for Astarion is that he’s always been a little selfish, or at least he thinks he is. I expanded on that later on in the fic by implying his parents weren’t the best of people. I felt like Cazador would smell blood in the water as far as folks with prior abuse of some kind were concerned, like a lot of abusers do. So Astarion spent his life up until he moved to Baldur’s Gate trying to be his own person despite the box his parents wanted to fit him in. That was my reason for why he left the Dalelands so young (by elf standards). He was still a grown ass man, but hadn’t reached maturity as far as his parents were concerned.

And like, why did he go as far away as Baldur’s Gate? Because it is like THE OPPOSITE SIDE of Faerun. And there’s no real info on his family anywhere, so I felt like maybe he wasn’t super close with them if he moved so far away. My idea was he felt he couldn’t escape their expectations without putting some real distance between them. And then, in the process, he winds up with Cazador, someone even more determined to mold him into what they want him to be rather than what he wants to be.

I feel like so much of Astarion’s arc in game is about finally being able to become his own person. And I thought it would pair really well with the tragedy of him being turned by Cazador if that happened just when he started take back control of his own life.

My headcanon is a lot of Astarion’s selfishness stems from no one ever being there for him or looking out for him, so he can only rely on himself and fuck everyone else as a result. Except he’s not nearly as callous as he pretends and deep down he genuinely wants to care about others. He just doesn’t know how to do it and feels like it can only come at the expense of his own autonomy/safety/happiness.

SO. What artefact would Astarion have that he could choose to give to Gale? Initially I thought maybe something small like the Ring of Color Spray. That didn’t feel significant enough though. Like, yes it would be something of his that he was choosing to part with, but it wasn’t a big enough of a statement to me. So then I tried to find a cool/powerful weapon or something else that he would be less inclined to part with. Whee, more time researching artefacts! But that didn’t feel right either, so  I decided it should be something with more personal significance because that’s the biggest kind of sacrifice he could make at this point.

So! What would Astarion have that would be powerful enough to satisfy the orb? And why??? Cazador doesn’t exactly seem like the type to give his spawn anything, not even the basics (i.e. Astarion’s 200 years of starvation). Especially not something like a powerful/helpful artefact. And I was like “well, I mentioned they traded favors before back in chapter four, so maybe Leon enchanted something for him?”

BUT WHY?! I really liked the bits and pieces we see of Leon in game. I feel like he’s the quickest to believe Astarion when he says Cazador plans to sacrifice them in the ritual. And he also has a human daughter! Which, yeah, that whole reveal in game gave me major brain worms. Because WHAT. There was a human child just running around Szarr Palace? WHY? What was her life like? What did the other spawn think of her? And I was also so sad we never really saw much in game about her and her father. Even though Leon loses Victoria to Dalyria. I was really surprised there was no follow up to that for him, but lord knows Larian already had 8 billion other things going on, so I get why it wasn’t something they delved further into.

But what would Leon ask for in return for such a big favor? Ooh, what if Victoria’s ill? Cazador doesn’t exactly seem like the type to be like “Oh, sorry, please take all the PTO you need and here’s some money for a healer!” I’d imagine resources suited to caring for a sick human child would be limited in Szarr Palace. And Dalyria has been looking at Victoria like she’s a literal snack for a while now (which is why she kills her in game), so what’s a vampire papa to do???

So then I had to figure out why the self-purported selfish Astarion would agree to help them. At great personal cost, no less. He never mentions Victoria in game and I don’t think there’s anything in game either that indicates he’s ever done her wrong. Leon certainly didn’t seem concerned about him in that regard, so I decided maybe he’s ambivalent toward Victoria. 

So why would he care?!

And then the Drizzt brain worms came back in full force. Because of that fucking phenomenal scene in the DND campaign with Neil fanboying, haha. So maybe Victoria has an interest in Drizzt too? Or maybe in his wife? Like, why wouldn’t a scared little girl who’s stuck in a nest of vampires look up to a strong female role model who is capable of fighting back and saving the day? And I figured Astarion hand’t exactly broadcasted his interest in Drizzt, so maybe this gives him an opportunity to actually connect with someone for once? I feel another major part of Astarion’s character is he is SO FUCKING LONELY. He doesn’t know how to establish actual relationships with people because he never has. And why would he, seeing as any new person he met would just wind up as Cazador’s dinner (as far as he knew anyway). I feel like he’s had to hardcore compartmentalize that part of him for the sake of his sanity.

But now here’s this sick little girl who he can actually help. And she understands what it’s like to dream a hero will swoop in and save the day. And she happens to be interested in stories about the same Drow Ranger  who he’s found his own escape from The Horrors™ in?

Idk if he still would have agreed to help Leon in the fic if he’d had much more time to think about it. So instead he has a moment of weakness where he desperately wants to do something good for once (the only other time having been his sparing his “darling boy”). Something that’s never been done for him, but that he could do for Victoria. He could pretend to be her hero for a little while and get something useful out of it in the process. Win-win!

And like, this doesn’t make them bffs or anything. It’s more like a pivotal moment that just started to lay the foundation for his “redemption” in my fic instead. Then I just kept thinking more and more about what his life was like after with Victoria, who’s already come to trust him a little since he doesn’t treat her poorly or look like he wants to eat her. Especially since I figure that’s probably a pretty novel experience for her given her circumstances.

But he and Gale are in the Underdark! Which has magical artefacts! So why couldn’t they just spend a few thousand words locating an artefact so he doesn’t have to give this ring up? Sure, I could make it imperative Gale needs an artefact like yesterday, but that didn’t feel like enough. Thus Tav’s sister was born, lol! And my Tav became much more of a character in the fic because I did WAAAAY too much research on the Drow for chapter five and was completely fascinated by them.

My Tav was never supposed to feature as much as they did in my fic. They’re literally my Tav from in game, though I didn’t really have an in-game backstory for them. They were just supposed to show up in my fic to help with some scenes/dialogue in lieu of me having to write more interactions with the companions I didn’t feel super confident writing because I didn’t feel like I knew them/their unique voices well enough. To my own detriment, I am obsessed with being as IC as possible when I write fic. Just my personal preference in my writing!

This was my basic ass outline from back in April when I realized I needed to add extra chapters. The checkboxes are chapters drafts I’d finished by that point:

I was about 42k words in when I made it. And the outline changed a little too! I combined my planned chapters for 15 and 16 into one and wrote something else for 16.

And then I got to the bane of my existence, Chapter 13… (≖_≖ ). That was around the 60k mark.

Originally I planned for Astarion to be kidnapped by the spawn and get tortured (a little) and then be rescued by Gale & Co. But it just didn’t feel right. So then I thought “Gale should get kidnapped too, that’ll be more interesting!” And THEN I had Cazador show up. But he was being too…nice? Maybe not nice, but like…too chill/accommodating? Because I didn’t want the fic to get EVEN LONGER by setting Astarion’s progress with his trauma back to the stone ages with prolonged exposure to his abuser.

Originally I had Cazador show up, throw Astarion around a little and then Leon was like “Mister Cazador, sir, he has a tadpole, can we all go somewhere you aren’t so I can take a look at it?” And Cazador was just like “HMPF. OKAY, I GUESS. BUT DON’T FORGET I’M ~EVIL~, even though I’m acting pretty blasé right now!” Cut to Gale, Astarion, and Leon chitchatting in the Favored Spawn room.

And it just…was not fucking working. I felt it didn’t make sense for Cazador. It wasn’t boogeyman enough. Like…no way would he just let them traipse off, even with the tadpole as the reason. Something else needed to happen. Something that would give him an actual reason to have to put Astarion on the back burner. Something BIG!

But fucking WHAT???

My OCD chimed in with: “So happy you asked! Remember that other insecurity you have about being fucking terrible at writing villains? Surprise! It’s true! You’ve hit the biggest part of this fic and now it’s all pointless because you don’t know how to make Cazador be believably mean! Aren’t you glad you wasted three months and 60k words on it? You never finish anything anyway, so why should this be any different?” 

Which is why I brought all of this up to my therapist in the first place. Because I was so fucking disappointed in and frustrated with myself and had all but given up on this fic. I didn’t know what to do next or how to fix what I broke and my motivation to keep writing it was long gone. But if I stopped writing it now, I was 1000% convinced I’d never finish it and I fucking hated that. I was so excited about this story for so long and it felt like it was all over because I “sucked as a writer, lacked commitment, etc.”

It took a while. Like two fucking months, to get out of my own head enough to finally write something I was happy with for chapter 13. I firmly believe I finally got to that point because of how much support and kindness I received from the folks reading my fanfic (who hadn’t found out I was a fraud yet - actual quote from my OCD). I cannot thank all of them enough for helping bolster my self-esteem and helping me get my motivation back! And also because my therapist helped me kill off my own boogeyman of sorts (my OCD around writing)!

Originally I wasn’t going to post this fic until the first draft was completely done. Didn’t matter that I was at 60k words. It wasn’t done, so it wasn’t going up because I hate when people orphan fics. Absolutely no shade to folks who do tho! Life happens! Motivation wanes! But I did A LOT of my own orphaning back in the day on ff.net and I still feel guilty about it to this day. But I pushed past my fear with the encouragement of my therapist and FUCK it paid off!!!

Once I got over the hurdle of writing 12/13, it was pretty much smooth sailing from there. And, omfg, people ACTUALLY LIKED both chapters?! ON GOD?! I felt like they were pretty solid by the time I finally posted them, but it was still hard not to worry I had falsely convinced myself they were good. What if Cazador was TOO mean now? Or what if he still wasn’t mean enough? What if this was too hard of a left turn with the story? What if what if what if…

I seriously cannot thank the folks who’ve commented on both enough for helping allay those fears of mine. It means so fucking much to me that there are so many people out there who were just SO FUCKING KIND to me when they didn’t have to be!  ( ˃̣̣̥︿˂̣̣̥ ) A HUGE thank you to folks who’ve reached out to me or interacted with my posts about my fic on tumblr too, especially asymmetricjest whose ear I know I have talked off at this point in the internet-sense! Knowing there were folks who liked my fic enough to go out of their way to seek me out on tumblr for my Tuesday sneak peeks and to even like my and comment on my posts about writing the fic was a MASSIVE boost to my self confidence! It also made me feel like maybe I had a story worth telling after all! 

I also gotta thank my bff Gourmet for letting me talk her ear off too and for reading the first three chapters before I even posted them. I was SO FUCKING NERVOUS about posting a multi-chapter fic for a brand new fandom (to me). I was especially worried about my characterization of Gale and if it looked like I knew enough about BG3 to be qualified to write a story about it lol. Not that that’s even a thing, but it felt like it to me. Like someone was gonna bust down the door and be like “well, actually” until I gave up on writing and became a hermit in the woods.

Gourmet also made the mistake of telling me sometimes she writes on her phone, which I have taken to heart and then some… I do like 95% of my writing on google docs on my phone now. I went from writing next to nothing to having already written 198,088 words this year. Yes, I’ve been tracking it. Yes, I love spreadsheets. No, I haven’t posted everything I’ve written yet.

That was another thing I struggled with in regard to my OCD. Not just with writing, but with life in general. It’s been so hard for me to accept everything does not have to be perfect before I can do something.

I constantly talk myself out of shit because it’s not perfect. Like:

I should start working out! What’s the research on the perfect amount of exercise? What types? How often? For how long? Etc. And then I come up with a detailed day-by-day routine of working out an hour every day that is not even remotely feasible for me, so I never do it! And I won’t let myself just do 10 random minutes of exercise either because that’s not what the experts said you should do, so that means I can’t do anything! 

Down to shit like, “I can’t work out because my office is a nightmare. There’s too much stuff everywhere.” And “I can’t just go for a short walk by myself. That’s cruel to my dogs who I already don’t walk enough. But if I walk them too, I need to walk them enough, which is at least 20 minutes each. Because a dog should have 30 minutes of exercise a day.” So now my 10 minute impromptu walk has turned into an hour long dog walk because I can’t walk both of them at once (they’re big dogs and I’ve gotten hurt trying to do that before). Which then becomes too intimidating/overwhelming, so I just don’t do it at all! Yay, avoidance!

This is exactly how I’d talk myself out of writing. Just “a real writer would do xyz and since I can’t/don’t, I’m not a real writer. If I don’t write everyday, I’ll never get anywhere. I need at least an hour to write and if I don’t have that, what’s the point? Maybe I’ll just make myself write for 5 minutes a day instead! But that doesn’t feel like enough progress, so that’s not being a real writer.” Just analysis paralysis combined with a hardcore all or nothing mindset. I would spend way too much time focused on my word count each day and beating myself up about it being too low instead of just being happy I was writing, which is something I enjoy doing (ISN’T IT?!).

I used to be a bank teller about a decade ago. It was boring as fuck during the week because there were too many branches around (there was another of our same bank literally one building away from us) so we didn’t get a ton of customers. That resulted in a lot of downtime that I had to fill with something that wouldn’t get me in trouble (i.e. reading or playing on my phone). We also didn’t have internet on our computers as tellers. So I started taking little pocket notebooks with me and writing in between customers. Which was apparently fine! My coworkers would ask me what I was doing and I’d tell them journaling or something like that because I was embarrassed I was writing original romance stuff.

I wound up writing 3 different 50k original works during that time. I’d write in between customers then go home and type up what I wrote every day. And it fucking worked! It gave me something fun to do instead of stare at a wall all day, it kept me from being too perfectionistic about it, and it lowered the demand on my executive function! Win-win-win!

But then I got a different office job where there wasn’t downtime in between tasks (or at least not that you could enjoy without getting in trouble) so that fell by the wayside. I probably could’ve been writing on my work laptop or something instead, but I had undiagnosed ADHD at the time and spent so much time procrastinating while trapped in the office because it didn’t take me that long to do my work. I also didn’t realize a lot of ADHDers procrastinate because then they get a spike of adrenaline as a deadline looms, so. Yeah. Classic ADHD in retrospect.

But writing on my phone is a whole different ballgame! It doesn’t feel like “real” writing. I can do it whenever! Waiting in a doctor’s office? Write! Woke up in the middle of the night? Write! Laying down on the couch with no motivation to move? Write! 

It lowers the barrier for my executive function because I always have my phone on me! No longer am I like “do I have enough time to go to trouble of opening my laptop, opening my google doc, trying to remember where I was, etc” and getting too worked up over having “dedicated” writing time because otherwise I’m not a real writer. There aren’t all these mental hurdles I have to leap over anymore. It’s just “I want to write” > “picks up phone”.

Do I feel fucking deranged writing almost 200k words so far on my phone? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY I DO! Could I write way faster on my laptop? 10000%! But it works! So I try not to think about it too much, lol. I have started editing more on my laptop though because editing on my phone takes for fucking ever. Editing in general takes me for fucking ever.

But yeah, this was wildly fucking long but I just had a lot of stuff I wanted to mentally process about this whole process because it’s been a really fucking big deal for me. And writing stuff out helps me process it.

If you’ve actually read all of this, you are a saint and I hope some of it resonated with you, especially if you’re a writer too. And, even if you aren’t, I hope it was at least interesting/entertaining!

God, I am so pre-upset about finishing this fic, lol. I don’t want it to end. It’s given me so much structure to my weeks and so much to look forward to. It’s gonna fuck with me once it’s over and I have to find other stuff to occupy my time and I don’t get my Wednesday dopamine hit. I mean, I’m hoping I’ll be writing something else by then (I do have an HH fic that’s 30k+ words already that I need to finish). But I fucking hate change and it’s gonna be a big change for me after I’ll have spent around 7 months on this whole thing.

But seriously, I cannot thank the phenomenal folks who’ve supported me along the way by reading, kudosing, bookmarking, subscribing, commenting, etc enough! This fic would not have gotten written without your support! And thank fuck for my therapist too because I had literally no idea my OCD was so obsessed with my writing until I was in the midst of this fic.

But yeah, it's been super cathartic to journal about my process with this fic and how I've learned and grown from writing it. And my OCD is definitely not completely gone when it comes to my writing, but it's more manageable at present and I'm def gonna take that as a win!

[novel-nook-blog]

Camp NaNo – week 1

Monday (7/1):

It's 9:30 pm and I finally opened my laptop. Uff, what a long day. Ngl, I'm exhausted. I woke up at 5:30 am to get ready for work. I left at almost 4 pm. Then there was a problem with my car (stressing af) and I had about 20 minutes to get to a meeting in another town so... very nice. The meeting was 'till 6 pm and around 6:30 pm I was finally home. Now let's get to writing.

It's 10 pm and I'm falling asleep as I write so it's time to put my laptop down and get some rest before my work, tomorrow. I haven't written much, but I didn't want to start with a 0 tomorrow.

Wordcount: 326

Tuesday (7/2):

It's 17:40 and I'm opening my second draft. I'm so hyped even though I just got home 😂... maybe I'm even overhyped because an hour ago I had a veeeery strong coffee and I mean wow, it just kicked in and I'm overflown with energy. So my writing is either going to be very good or very bad, we'll see.

On my schedule is: finish chapter 1 (I started it yesterday); start reading The Throne of Glass. I read that book a lot of times already, but it has similar writing style as I'm using in this book and I found out I'm repeating the same words again and again, so I want to use this reread for the benefit of my vocabulary (plus I want to reread the whole series this summer, although I wanted to finish reading Iron Flame first... so complicated, right?)

My plans for the day have escalated quite differently. We had a game night so after about 200 words I stopped writing for several hours and just before I head to bed I wrote up to 752 words. It's still not much, but I can't focus anymore. We'll se how tomorrow's going to be. I was planning to write all day, but I found out we're going to the ZOO. I'm very excited for our little trip, but at the same time I have no idea how the heck I'm going to get the wordcount I need. This challenge is going to be fun.

Wordcount: 752

Wednesday (7/3):

It's 10 pm and I just opened my laptop. This day could be divided into two parts – the awesomest one and the worst stressful nightmare. Me, my mom and my sister went to the trip to the zoo. It was a wonderful day. But after that there was a family matter that we had to solve so I didn't have time for writing...

Wordcount: 0

Today it's Tuesday, 9th of July... I'm so sorry for my delayed post but the thing is I am sick. I have the stomach flu since Saturday, but have been feeling so off most of the week so the last time I've written anything was on Friday and it wasn't much. Hopefully I'm going to be back on track soon but now I'm feeling so bad that the only thing I do is sleep and watch TV.

Also on Thursday I had an 11 hour long shift at work so very tiring day. On Friday my friend had a birthday party so I was with her all day and when I got back I started feeling sick but I didn't think it was something to worry about. On Saturday me and my dad went to visit my aunt and when we got back the stomach flu started in all it's power and hadn't left since.

I'm not sure how I'll get 45k words in my draft by the end of July but now health is my priority. So I'm going to get back when I'm feeling better.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Requests are still open! MWAHAHAHA

I was pleasantly surprised that you wrote my last request so quickly, THANK YOU SM! 🥹👉🏻👈🏻😊

I have another for my evil wolf boi Mairon

Something sexy, something soft and fluffy

Maybe they're horseback riding and come across a pond/lake? Reader tries really hard to convince him to take a dip. He's reluctant to say yes, and only does bc his need to ~taste~ her makes it hard for him to concentrate on his other tasks >;3

Thanks for taking requests and for taking the time to read mine! Have a beautiful day 💚

Hope you're having a great day too! I wanted to post this yesterday, but I hated everything in the draft. Hope you like this instead.

Skinny Dipping

Pairing : Mairon x Fem. Reader (Maia / Second person POV)

Themes : Soft | Fluff | Smut

Word count: 1.4K words

Summary : A search for something important turned into something a lot more fun.

Warnings: Kissing 

Rating: 🔥

Minors DNI | 18+

If you like this, please give it a reblog.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

Mairon controlled his horse far better than you did with yours. He kept a light hand on Black Tide's reins, so he wouldn't spook and throw you off.

And it was all due to the storm that hammered over the land. Lightning still flashed and threw blinding white light over the slate-grey sky, and thunder still bellowed in the distance. The storm may have ceased, but the air still had a touch of temper in it. "How far, my love?" you inquired, looking around.

The search had been for an elusive herb that was needed for Mairon’s newest innovation: a cursed blade that would break in the body of their victim and slowly turn them into a wraith, thus ensnaring them in the service of Lord Melkor.

And the search had so far been fruitless. The two of you looked and looked, but this mysterious plant was nowhere to be found. On and on you rode, until the air calmed and the sky darkened, and the both of you found yourselves deep within a forest.

"Not long, my jewel," Mairon looked over to you and grinned - a slow smile that would make you go weak in the knees. "I was told this herb grows deep within the forest."

Oh wonderful. Trudging around weeds and mud, and swatting insects that took too much of an interest in your face. What joy. What absolute, unbridled joy.

Oh, and you remembered, there was a lake. A stunningly beautiful lake in the heart of the forest. Oh, to see it and perhaps take a swim in it. And perhaps to entice your companion to join you. It might make this whole exercise worth your while. "Let us ride on then," you said, and you urged your horse forward.

In the end, the search for the herb was in vain, for nothing could be found. But the lake, on the other hand...

"Shall we take a swim?" you asked and dismounted.

Mairon, deaf to your request, huffed and kept looking. You asked again, this time a little louder. "My love? Shall we go for a swim?"

Again, no answer. "Mairon!" you said sharply this time.

All you received in answer was the chirping of a million crickets. Lawks, it felt like the Maia had lost all hearing, so you switched to a different tactic. One guaranteed to catch his attention. By using an epithet he loathed.

You coughed and straightened your spine. "Wolf boy!" you cried and stamped your feet. "Will you please listen to me?"

That caught his attention. Mairon slowly rose, his golden eyes spitting fire while he glared. Oh, how he glared. Wolf boy? You dare call him Wolf boy? He made his way toward you, needing an explanation. "What did you call me?" he hissed.

And how you struggled to keep your grin hidden. Mairon looked fit to be tied, really, and you thought it would be best to get him into the water to cool him off. "Wonderful. Now that I've got your attention," you snickered and walked towards the sure sound of waves lapping against a shore. "How about a swim?"

Mairon sputtered as you went ahead. He just gaped and gaped, his quest for the herb nearly forgotten. A swim? You wanted to go for a swim? Now? While there was something more important to do?

"Come on, my love!" You cried from a distance. "It is already evenfall!"

Mairon sighed and trudged along, thinking that if he indulged you in your yen for a swim, then perhaps you would help him search for that blasted herb. He walked and walked, his eyes darting around from one corner to another, looking for hidden dangers, one ear listening in to what was going on in the forest and the other on you, in case you ran into trouble. He listened again and sighed.

The lake was near, and you were splashing about in the water, thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mairon walked to an old pier, and looked around. Sure enough, here was your mantle, and there were your dress and boots.

Mairon swallowed. Your dress was on that pier. And you were in the water, unclad. He hummed as a hot wave of lust arrowed neatly into his gut. Mairon looked towards the forest, then to the water, then to you. He had something to do, something important, but the sight of you in that water?

On an oath, he undressed himself and plunged into the freezing lake. Oh, but he did not feel it. Not Mairon. The heat of his own body shielded him, and he swam towards you in quick, deliberate strokes. "So," he grumbled, wiping the hair from his eyes. "This is what you wanted to do, my jewel?"

You swam around him, taking in the slicked back hair that looked like fired gold under the light of a full moon. And how he carried himself. Even in the water, Mairon looked so sure of himself; his entire form was filled with the sort of burning confidence one would only find in someone such as him. "I am," you murmured and continued to swim. "And it is all the better since you are here."

Mairon managed a smile and swam with you, his eyes scanning the shores of the lake. It was something he did whenever he took you away from the safety of the fortress. And his worries were unfounded. The lake was quiet, and there was nary an animal to be seen, or a bird to be heard. Satisfied, he grew more at ease and swam about with you, drinking in your body as you glided through the water. His belly kept twisting as lust grew hot and strong in him. Mairon looked around and came to a decision. He decided the herb could wait. The growing fire in his belly, on the other hand, could not.

"Let us head back," He said and turned to the shore.

You sputtered, "But we have just--"

"Now, my jewel," he insisted and swam back.

That tone. Oh, how you understood that tone. One that was very much I-am-lord-commander-of-Lord-Melkor’s-armies, one that would brook no refusal, not even from you. You swallowed and swam back, even as your skin warmed, your interest piqued.

Mairon was already there, seated on a grassy patch, his eyes fixed on you the entire time. "You ran off to the lake," he growled.

You hummed when you reached him. "Yes I did," you said, unsure if you were to sit or stand. In the end, you settled on standing.

His eyes narrowed to thin slats. "You just jumped into the water without a care for your safety."

"Maybe…" you hummed again, your knees growing weak when his eyes darkened.

"Distracted me from my search…"

"It was just a whim," you mumbled, your heart pounding away in your chest. It was not anger you saw gleam in his eyes, but something else. Something far more dark and enticing.

"A whim, my jewel?" Mairon looked up, taking in the moonlight in your hair and the tiny beads of water that seemed to glisten on your skin. Oh, but to have a taste… "Well, I have a whim of my own."

Before you had a chance to think or even blink, Mairon grabbed your hand and pulled you onto his lap. Before you had a chance to say one word, his mouth opened over yours in a kiss that burned, one that made your entire body tremble with need. You felt yourself melt against him, sighs and whimpers rising at the back of your throat when his tongue traced its way around your lips and a hand slid around to cup the back of your neck.

And Mairon was not one to rush. He took his time, moment by slow moment, his lips plundering yours until your very bones turned to water and your moans poured into his mouth. He forgot all else; his entire being was filled with just taking and taking, until you had nothing left to give. His head reeled when you sighed softly and as his need for you grew, Mairon, in one swift move, grabbed onto you and moved you onto the soft grass, his own body laying heavy over yours. The feel of your hands gliding over his chest drew out a soft moan and another kiss, one that was soft and sweet. "Now," Mairon said wickedly, his lips tugging into a wolfish grin. "How about we make the most of tonight, my jewel?"

[vagueandominousvibes]

I saw the OC Link generator @kate-m-art posted (art here | generator here), and I know I have lots of work to get done today, but it’s been a while since I wrote or drew anything sooo ... meet Aatto!

Some very quick world-building went into this: Aatto is from a small pre-Calamity village nearby Lake Mekar (not too far from Rauru Hillside). The village is protected by two deities, the White Sparrow and the Purple Hare, and as the village’s Lost Walker, Aatto is in their service. With their help, he was able to evacuate the village to the Lost Woods just before the Calamity struck, and the village has been living in limbo for a century now, more or less unchanged, as they wait for the world beyond to become safe again. 

(800-word draft of an opening of Aatto’s story below.)

When the world died, we hid. Its destruction was never ours. We swaddled our children and disappeared, soundlessly, into the fog that had curled along the edge of our consciousness for centuries. In the fog time loses its meaning. There is no tomorrow, beyond “the day of our return”, and there is no yesterday, other than “when we lived in the sun”. It is one long day, in which we sleep and eat and go back to sleep. We wait. We are safe.

I am Aatto. I brought us here. It is my sacred duty to oversee our safety.

When we lived in the sun, I was our village’s Lost Walker. I learned the whims of the forest beyond the water, and found the paths that would keep us safe. I carried the White Sparrow’s Bracelet, a sacred item, to be used only when our need was greatest. And on that day, it was.

At noon, the White Sparrow brought news: Hyrule Castle had fallen to its own evil. Before my mind’s eye, I saw many-legged contraptions —  Guardians — crest the hill above our village and rain fire down upon us. I saw raging inferno, and my partner and our daughter dead before me. In a field, far beyond my sight, the Princess and the Hylian Champion had failed.

I called for a meeting before the Shrine of the White Sparrow and the Purple Hare. I relayed the message. I promised safety. And as I spoke, the Bracelet glowed.

Perhaps that is what convinced them. 

We took what we could carry, and slowly gathered on the bank by the water. With the power of the Bracelet, my form changed. I became the avatar of the Purple Hare. Soundlessly, I led them across the water, and as night descended, our village lay abandoned.

———

“Dad?” It is late. My daughter should have been asleep long ago, but recently her dreams have been restless, much like mine. Streaks of purple have started to show in her hair. She has been marked as my successor.

“Hello.” I welcome her into my lap. She appears no older than when we lived in the sun. 

She nestles against my chest. “The White Sparrow showed me a cave and a boy sleeping in a pool. There was a korok there.”

“A korok?” I raise my eyebrows.

She nods. “It was planting a cherry tree in the boy’s chest. There were pink flowers everywhere.”

I hum. Within, I feel the Purple Hare shift. It is alert. Has been for a while now. Change is coming. “That’s a big vision.”

“Do you know what it means?” She looks up at me with large brown eyes. There is uncertainty on her brow. Fear.

I smile and kiss her forehead. “It means good things are coming.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Her head returns to my chest. “I miss the sun.”

———

When she falls asleep, I carry her back to our tent. My partner is sound asleep. I lift his covers and place our daughter next to him. Gently I touch his cheek. “Caro.” It is enough to wake him. He has brown eyes, the same as our daughter’s. Like hers, his hair is white. Neither of them were born in our village. Still, I took them in. They are now part of us.

Caro smiles. “Hi.” The warmth in his eyes could have thawed a winter.

“Hello.”

“Did she have another vision?”

I nod.

He sits up, carefully, so not to jostle her. “They are becoming more frequent.”

“They are.” Within, the Purple Hare turns its head. It is listening. “Promise me you will do your best to guide her through them.”

Caro stares at me.

I swallow. “Visions can be terrifying. If she is frightened, you have to be calm. Help her understand what she has seen. Do you understand?”

“You’re leaving.”

“The Purple Hare is moving, I have to  —”

“You’re leaving.” Caro’s eyes are wide.

“I am.”

“Aatto  —”

“Something is happening. Or about to happen. If I don’t go, the Purple Hare will take her instead.” I hope he understands. I need him to understand. “It has already marked her.”

Caro looks like he wants to say more. His jaws are tight. “Come back.” He swallows. “When it’s done, come back.”

I take his hands and kiss them. “I will.”

———

Although day and night don’t matter anymore, I know it has been a long time since we lived in the sun. Where before my skin was tan from long days outside, it is now pale. I know I used to have freckles. I don’t know if I do now.

I pack little: a bow, a hunting knife, rope, and a satchel of food and elixirs. The White Sparrow’s Bracelet is still on my arm. It won’t come off until I die. I pull my hood up. Within, the Purple Hare stretches its legs. It has rested too long. We are ready to move.

[razorsadness]

I've not been writing many personal posts, because between writing a poem draft a day for the Tupelo Press 30/30, working on future Substacks and mini-zines, random scribblings in my private journal, and daily life and work stuff, well. I have had neither the time nor the inclination.

So this will just be short. Things are pretty good these days. I've been getting through this Mercury Rx with minimal troubles, knock on wood (not like last go-round when I completely lost my shit and had a nervous breakdown). Of course there has been some bullshit, but that's life, Mercury Rx or no—one of my recurring health issues has returned (fortunately it's not one of the Very Concerning or painful ones, just annoying and uncomfortable), I'm stressed about money and everything I need to do as per usual, the kids have been a little extra cranky, and I've had a lot of sleepless, toss n' turn nights. But it has been manageable.

The main Mercury Rx-related things that have arisen are general tech issues, and falling too deep down the nostalgic rabbit-hole and getting sad.

But there have been a lot of good things.

Like getting to see my best L. at the end of March. We ate sushi and talked and listened to music, and it was perfect. I got her turned on to Einstürzende Neubauten! She had never heard them and since I was getting all stoked for the release of Rampen I played her "Ist Ist," plus a bunch of stuff from Alles in Allem, and a few older tracks (though I stayed away from their super-strange-noise earlier albums, because I know her well enough to know she probably wouldn't dig that stuff as much). But anyway, she dug it! She said: "This is weird, but...in a way that I really, really like." My work here is done.

Like Easter—the kids had a great day, and it was one of the least stressful holidays I've ever spent with my parents.

Like taking the kids to Frank's Diner, and getting to watch them experience my favorite breakfast joint. Like the solar eclipse; watching the shadows go blurry and the world get dusk-dark in the middle of the afternoon, without a cloud in the sky.

Like all the writing—as hard as it might be, having to draft at least one poem a day has been really good for me. I've got the seeds of some things I think may be really quite good, one day.

Like all the small things—happy moments with the kids, sunny days, long walks, birdwatching (Friend Crow has returned to the tree behind our house!), books and films and delicious food.

And, of course, it's spring, and I've got that good ol' restless melancholy. I know, I'm melancholic and restless in every season, but in spring it's the most acute. I wanna go, anywhere (I don't care I don't care I don't care), or, to quote Kim Addonizio: it's spring, and it's starting again—the longing that begins, and begins, and begins.

Yesterday I found out that the downtown YMCA, where I used to see a lot of shows as a teen, is getting torn down, and man, I am having feelings. The poem draft I wrote last night, that went up today, is about that. Today I decided to go downtown and take some pictures of it while it's still there. They have it encircled in a tall fence topped with razor wire, but I walked all around the outside, taking pictures, and I also got some further ideas about stuff to write re: my history there but also ghosts and memory and whatnot. I'm eventually going to put it all together in a hybrid photo-and-text essay, which will probably be published as a mini-zine. I thought about how, in my younger years, I would have returned under cover of night to explore and take pictures inside the building. I either would have brought wire cutters to make a hole in the fence, or just braved the razor wire and climbed it. (And then I immediately thought of "On the Ave." At the reservoir you impaled your wrist / on razor wire climbing the fence...) But I'm not as brave as I once was, when it comes to things like that. It's not fear of injury, or even fear of who or what I may encounter inside the building; it's more that, since having kids, I'm not willing to risk getting arrested for shit like that. Taking photos of the outside wasn't as romantic as going inside would have been, but it scratched my exploration itch, and gave me artistic inspiration, so it was good enough.

After that I grabbed an oat milk cappuccino from a downtown cafe, then got back in my car and headed off on various errands. I listened to an old mix tape that a pen pal made me back during the same time frame I was going to shows at the Y (or, well, the 8tracks version of said tape, as I no longer have a car with a cassette player in it), and I'll be damned if those songs didn't sound just as good as they did the first, tenth, one hundredth time I heard them. And the world was full of signs, today, quite literally—a sign outside a church that said Delight in the Small Things, and a sign outside a diner that read Never Let Your Heart Harden. And it was all so much deja vu; driving through those neighborhoods I know so well, remembering what I used to do there, remembering what used to be there, while listening to those songs I know so well. I've been writing so much about my teen years lately, and it's funny, because when I lived here as a teen, I thought I hated this town. There were things I loved about it, but mostly, I just wanted to get out. I was also adamant that I was not from here. After all, I wasn't born here, and only lived here for seven years before moving away the first time. I never envisioned that I'd one day move back here for real, let alone that I'd come to love it for real. I may not live here for the rest of my life (and in fact I don't plan to), but, yeah, at this point it's my hometown, for better or worse.

[lilolilyr]

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @linguini17 months ago, thanks for tagging me! I always take so long to get around to the wip tags because either I don't have active wips or I'm too busy writing to be on tumblr xD but atm I actually got several!

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

I already shared a sentence from my GM wip yesterday, and I couldn't decide which wip I should take this time so you're getting them all :D

1. From a very kitschy HacksHBO Avorah fanfic I already told @die-schwanenkoenigin about and am hopefully gonna finish today:

"What, you turning into a vampire now, or is that an announcement to murder me?"

Though, I'm actually not sure whether I'll keep that sequence in the fic. I guess you'll have to wait and see!

2. From an Andromaquynh TOG AU wip that I honestly aren't sure whether I'll ever finish because it would have to be a longfic and Ahhhh time:

The farm is only about half an hour away - Quynh could walk there if she wanted to, but she never does, just staying in the fields and watching the riders from afar.

Not the last line I wrote, just the last sentence I went over. I actually wrote a bit more about this AU here, and if anyone's interested in getting the draft and adopting it, I'd love to hand it over to someone who has the time to write it!

3. From a Lie to Me, Zoe/Gillian follow-up to @ladydedlock 's fic:

Zoe makes an appreciative noise as Gillian starts to kiss her back in earnest, and Gillian smiles against her lips.

Yes, I'm writing the smutty sequel after all :D haven't gotten very far yet but I'm feeling optimistic that it'll get finished at some point instead of ending up on the forever draft pile xD

4. A Berena getting-together at a club AU - it's been done before and I'm doing it again! Inspired by the last time I was at a gay club, already weeks ago now, I'm really not fast with my wips lately...

Bernie had lingered over the bracelets for a few moments before snatching up the green - single: homosexual, and trying to suppress a blush as she hurried through the corridor and into the club proper.

Not actually the last line here either, just the last properly finished sentence.

5. W13: Helena goes clubbing, inspired by the same party the Berena fic's inspired by but a very different direction, established Bering&Wells with H.G. exploring the modern world

Was this going to be a repeat of the Lara Croft archeologist outfit?

:D

Tagging, only if you want to do it of course, everyone already mentioned above and @guardianrock , @ongreenergrasses , @cryhardanddanceharder , @fixomnia-scribble , @lesbianlotties , @astrabear , @spacewitchqueen , @squishmittenficfan , @lavendelhummel , @purlturtle , @viharistenno , @cookie-sheet-toboggan , @barbarawar , @incompletesong , @galactic-pirates , @lonely-night , @flightsofwonder , @sassy-wartime-nun , @verbumproxen , you can share either the last line from all your wips or just from your latest one, or anything in between! :)

[sasdavvero]

My father gifted me my first multichaptered fanfiction for Christmas.

My first book.

He knew too late the mixed thoughts I had about this story, I told him when he'd already ordered the book.

I cried nonetheless.

It became an inspirational thing instead of just a book.

It's a "You wrote a book."

"You wrote a whole damned book, Nico, that's not nothing. That's not I can't to anything. That's something you should really be proud of this, because you can, you can."

I'm always one to bring myself down, if you've followed me long enough maybe you've read some shit about always being not the best not the worst but just in between, not enough but not nothing, those kinds of posts that tend to stay in my drafts.

All this perfectionism shit.

But I can.

This is proof, hell, the Bachisagi is proof, the Possession AU is proof and even the Medieval AU, even though these last two aren't finished yet, they are all books, not just fanfictions and as many better fanfiction as there are out there this is me and something I can do.

There is my life in Tutta Questione Di Sfiga.

Parts of me in my characters, parts of my life in the situations narrated, my name Nico (Niccolò) is ripped off of Niccolò Gentile from TQDS, parts of it became my life long after I've written them, still, it's me, it's all me and maybe that's why I resented it so much, because I went too far (and because the narrative style isn't the best because it's the first, like, actual first book I've written in its first draft, so there's also that) and I should have been more careful.

I am grateful.

I dunno for what.

I am happy, I think, right now I still can't think straight about this, and he gave me the book yesterday, ha.

I don't know, I'm not trying to... I don't know.

I just thought it was important to tell the people here, the three or four people I post for, because I am happy about this.

I don't know.

Merry late Christmas, I hope you guys are well.

Here is the link to the story, (it's in italian), if you want, you can also laugh with me at my beginning writing, if not, that's oke.

It's a story I've written for me, for everyone but for me first, I debated multiple times to take it off of Ao3, but I think it's important it stays there a while more.

[yandere-romanticaa]

I’m curious, how long does it usually takes you to write a story (process from beginning to end)? (And also maybe for things like headcanons?)

How many drafts do you have now?

And how did the writing for the yandere fae story went yesterday? :)

It can range from 15-30 minutes or literally months, there is no in-between. My ideas are almost never planned out and they almost always come up out of the blue. Be it during a walk, a chat, in class or I lay restless in the middle of the night and *BOOM* the idea just comes to me. Like this post for example, I wrote it in less than 30 minutes and it's one of my most popular posts lololololol

I have over 200+ drafts, most of which probably won't ever see the light of day RIP.

As for the fae I managed to write the basic introduction well enough, if that story flops I'll cry.

[clowninabox]

my grandma is dying soon. and my first thought was to sob, and my second was to start reading a book she gave me, but after those two were over with, the only thing i could come up with was this art piece. i think i’ll hate it in about two months, and love it in two more, but its my weird mind’s amalgamation of the art i might find in her house. you see, my grandma isn’t just a person. she is a mystery. her words are made of magic and her fashion is made of history. anyone might describe her in two ways: some weird old hippie, and a mentor. i love her and i find that im stuck thinking what she’ll decide to do with her body. i think she’ll get cremated. i don’t want to imagine her full of chemicals in the ground. i love you, grandmo.

I wrote this post god knows how long ago, and the next day we were told that she was doing better. So I left this in my drafts and I went on with my life, competitive theater, art, and fanfic writing…. Yesterday she passed suddenly. It was the middle of the day. It was a good day. We were laughing and rearranging my room and making dinner together. It was a good day. And something terrible happened. Rest in peace, Grandmo. You were the coolest grandma, and everyone was so lucky to know you.

[hot-cocoa-addict]

nanowrimo 2022

hi i just wanted to announce that i wrote a lot of words. i cannot remember if i even mentioned that consequences started as a nano project and was supposed to be just 50k words (that did not happen lmao). more details under the cut as i’m writing this at 12:30 am after an 8k day and so i’m just gonna word vomit about this

okay, so, for starters this is my third nano year ever and in a row. i have actually won both years previously, but always with a very desperate last push to get over the line and usually just barely before midnight. there was a rush to update with 10 minutes left on the clock here in the PNW, but not to hit 50k.

i hit 50k all the way back on the 18th of november, and in the 12 days after that i nearly doubled my word count and my goal. i hit my three highest single day word counts this year, that being: 6,130 words on the 1st; 7,306 on the 28th; and 8,087 words yesterday on the 30th. i went into this year’s nano with three goals in mind. One, and most importantly: get the fucking consequences rewrite started because i did NOT handwrite around 17k words over the month of october for my damn story outline only to not go anywhere. Two: hit 50k this year and continue my winning streak. Three, if possible: get every badge on a project for the first time by writing at least 1667 words every day. i did all three

this was not easy. i was really lucky to a) have the musical i’m in be pushed back from opening in the first week of december to opening the the second weekend of january. if this had not happened i would have been writing through tech week and as a lead in the show i’m in i simply would have not had the time. b) had very light workloads in all of my classes and my creative writing class being dedicated solely to working on nanowrimo. no my teacher does not know i wrote fanfiction and no she does not get to know. c) had a ton of support from the two local regions whose borders i technically straddle. it’s a whole thing i’m not getting into because i am not telling a bunch of internet strangers where i live, sorry guys :( this was a really long post ik but i just needed to vomit it out somewhere because i feel like this is an accomplishment worth sharing? also i’m really sorry to announce that chapter 3 ain’t going up until i finish chapter 4 and although i promise i’m really close to finishing chapter 4 i’m not letting myself touch it for the next few days. actually that brings me to another point i’m sorry this is all stream of consciousness and i cannot be effed to edit it right now but! most surprising thing of overachieving this hard?? i actually really want to write right now and am likely going to have to actively force myself to take a break for at least the next day or so. i’m not proud of everything i wrote this month but i wrote a lot that i am proud of and everything that’s on my doc feels good to me right now. For anyone else who did NaNoWriMo this year and actually read to the end of the post, I have one last heartfelt message to y’all. No matter who you are, no matter where you come from or what you do, no matter what goal you started out the month with and no matter whether it changed or not. No matter if you wrote 1k, 10k, 25k, 50k or even beyond that, you did it. You got through November. You got through NaNoWriMo. You wrote words that no one else could have, You created something else no one could have. Whatever you wrote is uniquely yours, and you took a first step that so many people never took just by writing your story down. Whether you finished your story or, like me, still have a long ways to go from where you are now, you did something beautiful and so very impressive. And if there is no one else in your life who appreciates your accomplishments, then know that I do. The first draft might suck, but that’s okay! Twice now I’ve completely thrown away my previous year’s draft; only now that I am on a third year with a third draft do I feel this that my story is actually close to about as good as it’ll get. It may take you many more drafts than me to find the version of your story you like best, but know that there will always be people out there looking forward to reading what you write. for anyone else who read this far i love you <3 (platonically) and i want you to know that even if you don’t write, if you create anything so much of what i said can apply to you too (the broad points, not the specific stuff about writing). creation of any kind is beautiful and incredible. and for any non-creative types who see this, don’t worry! you’re wonderful and have your own place in this world of ours. i really wish i had more to say to y’all who don’t do nano but im very sleepy and, again, am coming off of an 8k day already so my brain is kinda empty rn ngl. i’m gonna get this tagged and go to bed now as i’m finishing this post at about 1:00 am my time and may or may not have school in the morning if it snows again

[lainternet99]

ENTRY #17

(I had meant to post this yesterday, but I slept, so everyone pretend today is Friday.)

My day was not as tiring as I thought it'd be despite starting at 8 A.M.

In cultures class, the smartboard wouldn't work, so we switched classes. We learned about cave art, how the humans at the time managed to do it, why they did it and how it managed to be preseved and practically intact for so long. It was very fun. My friend slept for a bit and the teacher gently poked her, waking her up. I found it funny.

I had a long break before my english class, so I did my brother's french homework while talking to her. We talked with some people from the Languages Club both of us were in and had a fun time. My brother paid me for my services: he bought me Danish pastry. It was so tasty!

At last came english class. We're writing a 500-word essay on a short story of our choosing that we read in class and discussing what the theme is about and how the author depicts it. I picked "A Good Man is Hard to Find" by Flannery O'Connor and I decided to talk about how she's critizing the hypocrisy of Christian-American society (of course, this isn't a recent story; this was back in the 20s or 30s, I believe). I wrote a lot more than 500... and that was JUST for the draft. God knows what I'll do for my final copy.

My day was done and I played Roblox for a bit while waiting for my brother to finish. We met up afterwards, he bought me my pastry as I had mentioned above, and we both went home. It was a very relaxing day.

RATE OF THE DAY: 10/10

—— lainternet99