#i just jotted this down in like an hour

[bugsinthebayou]

god i really have been posting way way less ever since i started taking meds for my physical conditions and made more friends

[spikes-got-anger-issues]

Why did Billy decide to do a double take into the camera here-

[xbraveheartx]

Wakes up in a cold sweat— So wait, but if Ergo is believed to be only formed in victims of the Petrificarion Disease, then why do human enemies without PD drop ergo?

This is why I call bull on that loading screen saying both Carlo and Romeo died of PD with everything else in the game pointing otherwise… Specifically in regards to the discussion of “Well it must be true because otherwise they could never have become puppets without their ergo!” The Stalkers you fight, The Black Rabbit Brotherhood— they all give you ergo. The BRB even give you a solid ergo chunk.

Geppetto started the puppet frenzy specifically to farm ergo from people in the massacre. The entirety of Krat can’t just conveniently have PD, especially not so early on, right? Sophia is also a special person who can use ergo in ways prior not thought possible (time manipulation— Our “Lie or Die” screen of the clock ticking backwards to “revive” us back to a time we were okay), so ergo is definitely something less… solid and tangible like we all want to define it, and more so an… essence… energy… soul of sorts?? Magic?

… I need to sleep again, but when I run my NG++ I’ll definitely try to pay more attention to what she says when explaining ergo, because I feel when she does, she becomes our most reliable narrator since there’s nothing left to hide.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i enjoy imagining future me writing WH fanfic with a solid grasp on everyones characters, but i already know that Barnaby is someone i'll never be able to accurately portray

[soupmanspeaks]

silly salvaged and its greg interviewing everyone (all the animatronics) for a marketing class at school or something

[doggirling]

ok guys. personal word of advice... if you have a very long, convoluted story/universe timeline you want to keep track of in a uniform way, i'd really suggest tiki-toki ^^ having it as a tool to visually work with, add info to, and observe really helped me with establishing an actual starstruck timeline + also inadvertently helped me fix any timeline/story plotholes i hadn't noticed before. its incredibly easy to use and it's really made it easier to continue developing starstruck so like. 10/10 suggestion :D

[imwritesometimes]

new wip notebook, who dis?

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

love that my handwriting is so shitty even I can't read it

what the fuck does this say??

(context: this is from a chapter summary/outline where character A is doing another favor for character B, since B has done several things for A, including agreeing to attend a game night with A's friends that B doesn't really know. The specific line is "It's a thank you for [???] game night." The following line is unrelated and crossed out.)

[halfelven]

love random not even logged in readers just dropping their 'constructive criticism' on your 100k+ story that you're putting online entirely for free. this is just a rant btw

"You obviously have a great talent and I think you should work on honing it some. As much as I’ve enjoyed the story, there are a few things that stand out that you might consider looking at. I feel like the story isn’t sure what it wants to be at times; is it character driven or plot driven? It doesn’t flow smoothly because sometimes we have these wonderful character vignettes, like Illumi and Kalluto on a road trip or Kite/Leorio/Gon/Killua in an apartment where plot doesn’t really feel important, followed by what feels like heavily plot driven beats, like Kalluto and the spiders. In addition, it contributes to confusion because sometimes we see established characterization turned on its head. Especially the weird way everyone all of a sudden just sort of was OK with Kalluto being a spider and then working with Illumi when they just went to all that trouble to escape him? It all kind of feels forced and not natural. You know?

Anyway, I’ll definitely keep reading and look forward to seeing what happens."

first: love you trying to sound legitimate with your "in addition" like this is some kind of writer's workshop. second: in what way would I, the writer, think that an incomplete part of my story in which the reader does not yet know most of the main motivations (they are only hinted at so far) feels forced and not natural when I know what's happening, where it is going (and where I haven't had other readers comment with confusion about that part)

and moving on. don't do this. also like i said this is a wip in and no, no one is cool with Kalluto being a spider and no they're not cool working with Illumi, really. it was already established that some of them /have/ been working with Illumi before this~ he's someone that they know. like have you never been in a seriously dangerous situation that you just have to get through before you get back to what you want?*** also at this point Chrollo's real motive hasn't been entirely revealed.

Killua keeps changing his mind about what he's doing because he's a scared kid whose self-hatred is destroying him from the inside out. the POV is so tight that I have to keep dropping reminders that what is stated in the narrative is often not true! Illumi's POV, for example, keeps showing Killua as really loving him and being happy he's around but struggling with a desire for freedom, while with Killua's POV he's terrified of Illumi most of the time. like how is that not obviously a distorted POV where you can't trust the narrator?

"where plot doesn’t really feel important, followed by what feels like heavily plot driven beats"

this part is especially irritating because it's like yeah that's how I want to write it? this isn't a published novel. I don't have to commit to making sure every scene is important to the plot. I can spend time writing a full scene about someone drinking a glass of water and then 13 chapters in a row that are for moving the plot forward. I didn't even tag it as a novel... I did tag it for unreliable narration and I keep getting annoyed that people keep ignoring that.

"I feel like the story isn’t sure what it wants to be at times; is it character driven or plot driven?"

it's both??? it's neither??? it's a fanfic??? why do I keep getting comments lately where people are expecting me to adhere to like fucking publishing standards. this keeps up and I will write a chapter which is entirely about a minor character drinking a glass of water. watch me. I'll write one about phinks drinking a glass of water and you'll like it*

"Overall, the story is good and presented a compelling alternative to CA. Look, each fan has their own opinion on CA and I know I didn’t like it. I think it was a product of what Togashi was going through as he began to experience health issues and then finding himself right back where he said he wasn’t going to be mentally after he ended his earlier manga. We can never know for sure, but it certainly had a “watch it all burn vibe” to it near the end. I honestly believe he wanted it to end with the finality of Gon’s suicide as a capstone statement, but was probably convinced to go a different route, which kinda of left a jarring feel in the narrative and culminated in a rather unsatisfying end to Gon and Killua’s journey. Despite that, I am very reluctant to read fics where the events of CA are erased or grossly modified and honestly yours is really the first long AU/alternate timeline I’ve enjoyed"

okay first of all, I love the CA arc. but I had to split a point off where Kite was going to survive. why do you have to leave this whole paragraph about how you think Togashi was or wasn't going to go with the CA on my fanfic? I didn't even write this as 'oh look at my alternative to CA bc I hated CA' I don't really look forward to hearing comments about how random people didn't like so and so aspect of the story that I'm basing my story off of. I've never written fanfic for a story that I didn't like (except for some things that I don't have published I wrote at a request for friends for a fandom they were into that I wasn't really) and yeah I've wanted to 'fix' aspects (like tolkien's treatment of women for example) but I am not looking for your 'this is what I hated about the source material' comments on my stories

tired of getting comments with little 'oh I didn't like your style at first but now I do' or 'here's how to fix your story!' unsolicited advice from people who aren't better writers than me (I don't even want it from people who would be better writers than me on stuff I'm just doing for fun and for free)

when did stuff like this become normal? at least don't be a coward and be not logged in so you can't even get a response notification. like girl they aren't cool with it! why do you think everyone is on guard standing around like they're in a fucking hostage situation? how do you see such wildly different interpretations from different character's POVs and think it's not intentional? what part about Kite watching Killua like a fucking hawk makes you think he's going to let Illumi take him after this?

like if you've never had to smile and pretend to be cool with your abuser (pretend to love them) or someone who was threatening you to keep someone else safe then good for you! it fucking sucks! also don't know how to explain to you what a child who is growing up in an extremely isolated abusive situation goes through (though I keep writing about it in this story you should catch on...) but it's a million back and forths with emotion and feelings--especially if their abuser does (to in some way or to some degree) love them. and it is often blaming themselves. I'm not letting my years of studying human psychology and child development go to waste here**

is this story perfect? no but I'm not gonna hire an editor for a fanfic. and everyone's interpretations of characters will be different. especially with child characters who are going through huge changes in the world around them and their personal lives. part of the appeal of fanfiction is 'who would they become if this happened instead?' *sorry I keep writing about starving and not having clean drinking water but I will never stop because that's what I grew up with and it's hell. also phinks drinking water would be compelling since I assume he'd have harder access to clean drinking water

**hunter x hunter is also one of the only stories I have encountered with characters who have backgrounds as fucked up as mine and Togashi's interest in human psychology really stands out.

***like good for you but that was most of my life and you sometimes just have to shut up and get through it. and no I will not put my notes in the right order bc I'm not being paid enough****

****I'm being paid nothing

[princehatterene]

vent in tags.

[beauzos]

gripping the sink i could finish this fic right fucking now but i'm too TIRED i hate it here

[owl-with-a-pen]

Merry Christmas/Hanukkah!! <3

prompt of brainy and nia spending the holidays at Nias parents house???

Happy Holidays! I whipped this one up in record time so forgive any mistakes. Hope you enjoy! x

Mornings had once been quite the monotonous feat to Brainy. A simple routine of waking, preparing for the day ahead and executing those plans exactly as intended. Some time before then, the morning hadn’t even been a time of day at all. It had existed outside of his perception, neither here nor there, as he had worked through the rise and fall of sunlight locked within his lab, or the artificial rays that had run in conjunction with the Legion ship’s automated Earth-clock.

That had changed in recent years. Now, Brainy had learned to indulge in all the gifts the morning had to offer. The most important of which he could find just by rolling onto his side, glimpsing one Nia Nal curled into her pillow just inches away from him. Sunlight held a far more pleasant aspect when it glowed atop her head as she slept soundly half buried beneath their comforter, not quite ready to face the world just yet.

When Brainy had awoken that morning, they weren’t in the familiarity of the bedroom they shared in National City. Instead, they were some miles away, spending the holiday period at Nia’s family home in Parthas. This was not the first time that Brainy had slept in Nia’s old bedroom, but sharing a space with his partner that was filled with so many memories, so much love, was a comfort he found he was never quite prepared for.

When Nia stirred at his side, a soft groan parting her lips, Brainy shuffled in close, burying his nose into her hair. “Good morning,” he murmured, his mouth lingering at her throat.

Nia smiled, lifting her head to meet him. “Morning to you, too,” she said, her voice still a little croaky. She rolled over so that she was facing him, snuggling into her favoured spot tucked away against his shoulder. Brainy grinned, relishing in the feel of her warm breath tickling his collar bone.

“How’d you sleep?” Nia asked into his pyjama shirt. She poked his chest, lifting her chin to fix him with a half serious look. “Did you sleep?”

Brainy had expected the question. Since his brush with death at the hands of Leviathan, Nia had taken to checking in with him every now and then on his sleeping patterns. He knew she felt regret at how soundly she could sleep on nights that a vision didn’t intrude on her dreams, but he had assured her time and time again that he was only glad she could find that peace so often now. Since she’d begun to master her ability, the chances of nightmares had tapered off to a handful every few months.

Brainy’s sleeping pattern, however, remained unruly at the best of times - old anxieties that he still struggled with from the removal of his inhibitors. It was true that he required less sleep than most species, but even he knew that he had made something of a habit of pushing at those limits to an unhealthy degree.

Today, though, he could be honest with her. “I did,” he admitted. “In fact, I slept for far longer than anticipated.”

Nia’s smile was infectious. She nuzzled into his throat, her lashes brushing against his skin. “The perks of sleeping in a Dreamer’s bed.”

“This room is indeed very cosy,” Brainy agreed. The natural light that bled in through the windows gave everything it touched a warm orange glow, reflecting against old nick knacks and stuffed animals, cherished items of Nia’s childhood that had been cared for with utmost love in her absence.

Brainy wound an arm around Nia’s back, drawing her in close. “I would have slept for longer I suspect, but I wanted to wake before your father.” He frowned thoughtfully. “He is quite the early bird normally, but factoring in the eggnog that was consumed last night—”

Nia chuckled. “Oh yeah, you’ve got an extra two hours, easy.”

Brainy smiled triumphantly, kissing Nia once on the cheek before sitting up. “In that case, I would like to propose that I make breakfast this morning!”

Nia sat up hastily at Brainy’s declaration. She took his arm, trailing down until her hand was wound firmly to his wrist. “Alright, so I’d like to propose we do that together.” She smiled at him honestly. “Dad’s – uh – had a taste of your cooking before, so he knows what to expect, but Maeve’s coming over this morning.”

“Ah,” Brainy said seriously, leaning in towards her. “Is her palate not as well-refined as your father’s?”

Nia snorted suddenly, covering her mouth in a blatant attempt to hide it. “You could say that.” She rolled her eyes, pecking him quickly on the lips. “It’s alright, we’ll figure it out together. Just, let me brush my teeth first.”

She whipped off the blanket in one swoop, bounding off the bed with revitalised energy. Just as she was about to skip out of the door, she paused, turning towards Brainy with a grin. “Oh, and Merry Christmas!”

Brainy grinned even brighter. “Merry Christmas,” he returned.

---

This wasn’t the first Christmas Nia had spent without her mom, but it was the first time she’d been back to Parthas for the holidays. It had been something Nia had both been looking forward to and totally melting down over in equal measure.

Brainy had kept her strong throughout the worst of her backpedalling, holding her firm when she’d tried to talk herself out of going this year, reminding her of all the stuff she’d expressed over and over again about how much she’d been looking forward to.

For starters, Parthas never did anything half-assed. Their holiday celebrations were some of the biggest and brightest, a community event that brought everyone together to celebrate with music, food and good company at the town square. Nia had never believed that holiday spirit could be superficial, not when she saw it so animatedly in the eyes of a town that shared so many unique cultures and holidays, both from Earth and off-world.

That part, Nia wasn’t dreading so much. She was even looking forward to visiting her mom’s grave again, laying out some flowers for her in all the colours she knew she loved. Ever since she’d paid the ultimate price to see her again, the connection with her mother didn’t feel so far out of reach. When she talked out loud to herself, she could almost imagine her mother listening in; there were even times when she’d catch the impression of someone familiar standing with her in the dreamscape, encouraging every step of her progress.

So, no, those things weren’t what was freaking her out so much. As she helped Brainy cook up a breakfast spread for her family, though, she knew exactly what it really was.

This was the first Christmas she’d be spending with Maeve since their mother had passed. Since the fight that had separated them. Since… everything that had come to light in between.

It was also the first time Maeve would be meeting Brainy in person, which felt so weird. Brainy was such a large part of her life and, up until recently, so was Maeve. Nia knew that her sister was trying in earnest to build her trust again, but it wasn’t going to be easy and whether Nia admitted to it or not, she could feel that strain whenever they were together.

She wanted things to go well when Maeve turned up, but at the same time she was painfully aware of how different it would feel for her to be here with them for the holidays. It wasn’t just Nia that Maeve had disappointed, and although she’d finally gone to visit their dad shortly after their team-up in the dream realm, things were still a little rocky on all fronts.

Again, Nia couldn’t have been more relieved for Brainy’s endless patience throughout her meltdowns. She was honestly surprised this hadn’t triggered any unwarranted anxieties of his own, but it seemed his adamance to support her had overridden any signs of that.

When the doorbell rang at the Nal household, Nia nearly dropped her spatula. She was just plating up the last of the pancakes, and Brainy had been digging in a drawer for cutlery, but they both paused to look up, catching each other’s eye.

Nia held her breath, holding her chin high. It was now or never, she supposed.

“Coming!” she called out.

---

“Nia, hi! How have you been?”

Maeve’s high-energy smile was dazzlingly hard to figure out, especially when she swept Nia into a hug that lingered a little awkwardly for everyone involved.

Nia was the first to draw away, trying to relax her jaw as she offered a smile of her own. “Hey, Maeve. I’ve been good—really good, actually.”

“I can see that.” Maeve winked at her conspiratorially, squeezing her hands. Nia wasn’t sure what she was talking about at first, that was until she felt Brainy join her at her side.

Maeve’s eyes darted to Brainy eagerly. “So, you’re the brainiac that Nia won’t shut up about.”

Nia felt a blush warm her cheeks.

Brainy smirked, bumping Nia’s shoulder. “I suppose I am exactly that.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Nia said easily, kissing his cheek.

“Aww, you guys are so cute,” Maeve gushed, but Nia could already see the game she was playing. She still hadn’t let go of her hands, after all.

Just as she expected, the second Maeve spotted the ring, she gasped. “Is that—?”

Nia bit the inside of her cheek to hide her smile. She and Brainy had been engaged for a couple of months now. They’d already announced it to their friends and family, in fact, the last time she and Brainy had been back to Parthas had been in the summer when they’d surprised her dad with their engagement. She still remembered the tears of joy in her dad’s eyes when he’d hugged her tight, shaking Brainy’s hand before pulling him into a hug of his own, formally welcoming him to the family he’d long-since been a part of.

Maeve had been a no-show at the engagement party Kara and Alex had put together for them, work obligations had predictably tied her down. Nia honestly hadn’t minded all that much. As much as she wanted to build a relationship with her sister again, she knew it was never going to feel the same as before.

Maeve squealed in delight as she turned over Nia’s hand, inspecting the ring from every angle. “Oh my god,” she said, scrutinising each detail. She paused suddenly, her eyes snapping to Brainy. “What, no rock?”

Brainy quirked a brow. “That ring is far superior to any Earth diamond, I can assure you.”

Nia grinned proudly, splaying out her fingers for Maeve to see. “It’s made of Nth metal,” she explained. “It gives you the ability to fly.”

Maeve visibly recoiled, although she collected herself quickly. She looked at Nia accusingly. “You just made that up!”

Nia’s grin broadened. “Nuh-uh,” she said. “And hey, maybe if you’re on your best behaviour, I’ll even show you how it works later.”

Maeve’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, you cannot dangle that over me!” But her tone was made in good jest, enough that even Brainy smiled along.

The rest of the morning went better than Nia had ever expected. Maeve relaxed to Brainy’s unaltered appearance almost immediately and seemed genuinely curious about his culture and species as a whole. She brightened tenfold when she realised that he was fluent in Naltorian and the three of them spent a good thirty minutes dipping in between languages as they grew to understand each other a little better.

Late to rise, when their dad finally came down the stairs, he was greeted with the sound of shared laughter and the smell of palatable pancakes drenched an inch to their life in maple syrup.

They ate together in the living room, sharing stories old and new, catching each other up with their lives and for the first time in forever, feeling like a family that wasn’t hollow at its core. Nia caught herself glancing up at the photo of her mom that their dad had displayed on the mantel, her smiling face watching down on them in the same way she’d imagined in her dreams.

She would’ve been happy to see them all like this, Nia knew. And maybe, someday soon, she might even catch a glimpse of her in the dream realm again, and maybe she’d be able to hear that from her lips for real.

They spent the majority of the morning lounging lazily in each other’s company, Nia curled into Brainy’s side as they shared their engagement story once more for Maeve’s benefit. It was the first time in a long time that Nia saw real elation in Maeve’s eyes. No resentment, no jealousy, she seemed to be truly happy for them. She didn’t even tense up when their superhero lives were mentioned. If anything, there was a sense of pride that had begun to radiate from her now, for the sister who had spared her a second chance, who she was determined to prove herself to with every waking breath.

A few drinks were shared before they headed off for the town’s festivities. Nia found herself walking hand-in-hand with Brainy, her free arm hooked through her sister’s, their dad walking amiably at their side, and she suddenly wondered why she’d ever been so scared of this day at all.

For today and – she hoped - for every day after, they were a family again.

That was the best gift she could have ever asked for.

[jheselbraum]

How do I tell someone that I thought the "essay" I wrote in the tags on their post was short compared to some of my actual posts

[coolxatu]

who asked moment but I remember seeing a massive theory post you made about deltarune but I didn't read at the time. well im starting to feel insane about this game again so im going in!

heheh. youve actived my sleeper code. im insane about this game always. my knowledge. is encyclopedic. i could tell you. so many things

[shmothman]

honestly cruel that i have to spend my whole day reading papers and textbooks when i have approximately 53 fic ideas that i could be working on

[shotmrmiller]

simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.

he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?

the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.

the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.

it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."

what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—

it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.

what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.

"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."

violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.

simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.

"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.

clearly more than a passing fancy.

"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.

"he's not hungry."

cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.

johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?

you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.

even the plate it's on is cute.

"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."

johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."

he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.

(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)