#it's okay to write garbage

[spacegirlspiffy]

Having hit 10k words I feel like I should say something about my NaNoWriMo project this year. 10k isn't a lot, but it's more than I've managed the last few times. Whenever I try to talk about it to anyone though all I can say is it's garbage.

There's sort of a plot, but only if you squint. Half the characters lack a physical description of any kind. There's nothing likable or endearing about the MC. And about a third of the writing is talking. It's garbage.

But here's the thing, I'm really proud of it for being garbage.

I used to write all the time, used to love creating worlds and characters and sharing them with others. But over the years and the trauma I let that joy be robbed from me. I couldn't write anything without immediately tearing it apart. It stopped being fun, so I stopped pursuing it.

This year I gave my permission to write garbage. To not to get hung up on anything and just get the words out. Maybe it will turn into something salvageable. Maybe it's the gross water that has to be flushed from the pipes before it runs clean again. I don't think it matters either way.

So yeah. My NaNoWriMo project this year is garbage and I'm happy about that.

[vaguely-concerned]

the hossberg questline has me shaking solas by the shoulders like a ragdoll like 'for pity's sake the flowers are here the flowers ARE growing again tender shoots are finding their way back into even this dark and broken world if you would just pause for a moment and look and sTOP FUCKING STEPPING ON THEM FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES oh my GOD does the phrase 'self-fulfilling prophecy' mean anything to you or did you not have those back in the day. trick question bitch I know and you know you did open your eyes hope is here already hope is here if you could bear to let it in. I'm sorry it's not the saplings you loved once but they deserve the chance to live and try and thrive or fail too'

*merrill voice of keeping it so incredibly real* I think he's broken the thing he wanted to save. (*incredulous fenris noises of you pity him??*) *merrill being so incredibly valid and on point cont.* breaking the thing you love the most is not restricted to semi-gods but it sure means you can do it the worst anyone's ever done it little guy and then keep doing that for thousands of years

all jokes aside I do love this metaphor that winds through the whole game in both imagery and dialogue, right down to rook and their LI being depicted as intertwining flowers in the ending slides

[qoldenskies]

more people should indulge in the idea of donnie enjoying baking like. cooking is an art form because you can play around with it and add all types of things to make the flavor work. but baking? that's a science, baby. and ive seen the kind of funny squabbling cooks and bakers have about how different it is and i think itd be funny if donnie and mikey were weirdly petty about it

[bigoltrashpile]

H (any), O1, S2, or W3 for Blue. Take your pick! Bonus points if you can match two of them into one scenario but ofc it's not required

*Cracks knuckles* Challenge accepted.

You sighed and plopped your bag down. It had been a long day, and you were looking forward to warming up some quick food and passing out. Yawning, you stepped into the kitchen, wondering what you could make quickly, and-

Screamed when you saw what was waiting for you. Someone was in your home. Someone you had never met. A skeleton monster, wearing a suit and tie with sky blue accents. He was sitting at your table, which had been laid out with a delicious looking meal. The whole scene was lit with candles, casting an eerie glow across the skeleton's round face.

"AH, YOU'RE FINALLY HOME, DEAR!" The skeleton stood up, his deep, booming voice shocking you back to reality.

"What the-who are you? Why are you in my home?" As you spoke, you tried to back out of the room, moving slowly and praying he wouldn't notice.

The skeleton grinned. There was something dark behind that smile. "SILLY THING, IT'S OUR ANNIVERSARY! HOW COULD YOU FORGET?" He lifted a hand, and you were frozen in your tracks. "THERE ISN'T A SINGLE THING I DON'T REMEMBER ABOUT YOU~"

He made a "come hither" motion, and you were dragged along the ground towards the empty chair. You tried to fight against it, but it was as if gravity itself was working against you, pulling you closer and closer to the maniac in your house.

You were forced into the chair, and once again, there was nothing you could do to get out of it. You growled and glared up at the skeleton. "What the fuck do you want?"

"WHY, I JUST WANT TO ENJOY A MEAL WITH YOU! LIKE I SAID, IT'S OUR ANNIVERSARY! I WORKED HARD ON THIS MEAL, I MADE ALL YOUR FAVORITES!" Indeed, the plates were filled with some of your favorite foods. How the fuck did he know this?? "NOW...ARE YOU GOING TO BEHAVE, OR DO I HAVE TO FEED YOU?~" A sky blue tongue ran over his teeth, and you shuddered. As much as you didn't want to eat this, you also didn't want him to feed you.

"H-how do I know it's not poisoned?" you demanded.

The skeleton put a hand on his chest, like you had wounded him. "I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU! YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?" He looked so innocent, but you knew you couldn't trust him. Your glare apparently broke him, because he suddenly smirked like you two were sharing a joke. As if humoring you, he took a small bite from each thing on your plate. "THERE, NOW YOU KNOW."

Well...you were hungry. And obviously it wasn't poisoned if he ate it...The magic holding you down loosened, and you were able to pick up your silverware. You cautiously began to eat. It was good! You eagerly scarfed down the food, despite your misgivings.

"THERE, SEE? I WORKED HARD TO MAKE THESE, IT WOULD BE A SHAME FOR ALL THIS FOOD TO GO TO WASTE!" The skeleton grinned and began to eat his own food.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, you took a deep breath. "...Who are you?" you finally asked.

"HEHEH, WELL, I SUPPOSE I SHOULD INTRODUCE MYSELF." The sky blue lights in his eye sockets were heart shaped. He folded his hands under his chin, the eye lights not moving away from you. "I HAVE KNOWN YOU FOR A YEAR, AFTER ALL, EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW ME. MY NAME IS LUCKY."

A chill ran down your spine. "A...a year?"

"YES, LOVE, AND IN THAT TIME, I'VE LEARNED EVERYTHING I CAN ABOUT YOU~" Lucky leaned closer, the candlelight making his skull seem impossibly sharp. "YOUR TASTE IN MUSIC...YOUR SCHEDULE...YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY...AND I JUST CAN'T KEEP AWAY ANY LONGER!"

You once again began fighting the magic holding you down. This...this stalker was clearly insane!

The skeleton took a steeling breath, then took a sip of his drink. His eyelights were back to small dots. "ANYWAY...IS THE FOOD GOOD? IS THIS OKAY? DID I DO WELL? IT TOOK QUITE A BIT OF WORK TO MAKE IT SO YOU WOULDN'T TASTE THE SLEEPING PILLS."

Immediately, your mouth went dry. "S...sleeping pills?" There was a weight in your stomach, and your hands started to shake.

"DON'T WORRY, NOT A LETHAL DOSE, OF COURSE! BUT YOU ATE ENOUGH THAT IT SHOULD BE TAKING EFFECT ANY MOMENT NOW." Lucky took another bite from his plate, before standing up and stalking around the table. Your eyelids seemed to be getting heavier, but you fought to stay awake.

You struggled, even as your limbs grew weaker. There was no getting out of this. But you weren't going down without a fight. You growled, gathered the last of your strength, and-

Spit right in Lucky's face.

His smile twitched a bit, but he just calmly wiped it off with his napkin. "NICE TRY, DEAREST, BUT THAT'S NOT GOING TO MAKE ME CHANGE MY MIND." His eyelights once again changed to little hearts, and his smile widened. It almost looked like his face was going to split in half.

"NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO ME, I'LL WORSHIP THE VERY GROUND YOU WALK ON. THAT'S WHAT IT MEANS TO LOVE SOMEONE!"

You tried to struggle, but you were quickly losing consciousness. Lucky placed a gloved hand on your cheek, thumb swiping across your cheekbone gently. "JUST SLEEP, MY DEAR. WHEN YOU WAKE UP, YOU WILL BE SAFELY AT HOME WITH ME~"

The last thing you saw as your eyelids shut was the skeleton, standing up and straightening his tie. You felt his arms wrap around you and lift you into the air. Just as you lost consciousness, Lucky's teeth pressed to your forehead. "I Will See You Soon, My Love~"

[silentwalrus1]

if i have to read one more published fantasy book that uses irl memes and online vernacular in its dialogue i’m taking away the toys until y’all can learn to respect yourselves. Not only does it break immersion in your world and detract from your characters having their own voices, it also makes you, the author, seem like a dim parrot incapable of neither original thought nor basic understanding of the passage of time

1) due to the timeline of publishing, any meme included will automatically be hopelessly dated by the time the story reaches readers and

2) it’s literally the same thing Ready Player One did. Hey look i’m pointing at a thing in pop culture. Did you get my reference? Did you get it? Let me list some more colors and shapes you recognize. Did you get it? And then Gideon Nav hit the dab or whatever. Hashtag Relatable!

It’s so painfully unfunny and uncompelling every time. We can do better. Apply some creativity to your own work

[icharchivist]

lmao a mod just to spill the discourse on the nexus? really? this is where we are coming to?

oh no how dare people find fault with the da4 writing, i'm going to make the most annoying mod of all time just to make fun of them because i'm soooooo mature

[celtrist]

Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet

[theheirofthesharingan]

Hello @theheirofthesharingan

Rin killed herself so that the 3 tails wouldn't go berserk and harm countless of innocent civilians. But Obito, the martyr of love, did just the opposite. He didn't even respect her dying wishes. This is pure irony

#anti ObiRin #anti Rin Nohara #anti Obito #obito IS a simp!!!

I would have understood his plight if he didn't know the truth. If he didn't know what happened to Rin. But he did. He knew she made a choice herself and Kakashi couldn't do anything about it. He still blamed Kakashi. Not just that, he did precisely what Rin wanted to stop, as you pointed out.

He was the reason the Uchiha massacre happened, Naruto became an orphan, and Sasuke and Itachi's lives become hell. And after all this, he became a hero who died protecting Kakashi and saving the world? The same world he made worse by unnecessary violence.

That man refuses to grow up even after becoming an adult. I hate how people infantilise him (while also blaming Itachi lmao).

[lesbiansanemi]

So hard being a sukuna enjoyer and trying to find fics about him because you get one of two options

1. God awful out of character reader insert porn where you’re his uwu submissive (normally terrified of him) concubine or some shit but GASSSSPPPP he ACTUALLY cares about you and is soft for YOU ONLY and he wants you to GET PREGNANT with HIS HEIR oh my GOD

Or

2. God awful out of character suku.fushi or suku.ita where the plot is like what if sukuna was a MAFIA BOSS and he got OBSESSED WITH THEM and KIDNAPPED them and also it was INCEST and OMEGAVERSE and they call him DADDY while he FUCKS THEM INTO THE MATTRESS and talks about their PUSSY the WHOLE time

And both make me want to throw up in my mouth and momentarily wish I had the power to arbitrarily ban ppl from posting on the internet

[imtrashraccoon]

I have done some doodling lately and while they are rather bad in my honest opinion, I still want to share because I need you all to see the grip this fic has on me...

First up, a doodle I did like two weeks ago while I was bored at work. Can you tell who I'm obsessed with right now? Please ignore that I basically put Lord Nightmare in a bathrobe! I was also brainstorming some potential designs for some new plants that could feature in the next chapter of The Nightmare of Apathy. I'm not happy with these designs so this is concept art at best. I also attempted to draw Aylin but she's wearing overalls for some reason??

Yesterday I was working on my Dreamswap oneshot, To Defy A Dream. (It's basically the same fic but Nightmare and Dream swap spots...) I attempted to draw Aylin again! I think the only consistent part of her design I can manage is messy long hair and dark circles. (Text says: "Low-key depressed but dead inside" and "Hiding the pain behind a fake smile" next to Swap!Aylin.)

Couldn't forget Nightmare! I love drawing him so much and yet I'm so bad at clothing... First time trying to draw Uncorrupted!Nightmare actually and I don't hate it?? (Text says: "The master of all manner of deception" and "Instantly falls in love" next to Uncorrupted.)

I want to doodle some more... Maybe I'll try drawing my Fae Sona, Cricket, and the other characters in her story? I'm not normal about them either...

[resident-rats]

I have a chreon idea I started writing earlier and rn I’m like this is the best idea of my life, but also I’m legitimately so tired I feel like my brain is falling out, so very very within the realms of possibility that it’s terrible and I should be jailed forever

[bellamyblakru]

@its-hyperfixation i am so fucking sorry its so late😭today was the first day i tested negative!!! and with that good news, i wrote you a tiny oneshot in honor of our wedding anniversary. i love you so so so so so much. and im continuously proud of everything you do. im beyond grateful to have you in my life, and i hope i can keep you in it for absolutely ever. thank you for sticking by my side for so long😭🩷i will stay there for as long as you’ll have me!!!! i love you my love, my arthur to my merlin, my rowan to my aelin, my f1 to my kpop🥺🩷one day!!!

do not feel sorry (it’s just like a yawn when it is not enough)

Merlin was trying—really, he was, but after five nights in a row of the same fucking nightmare, sleep was almost as nonexistent as his appetite at this point.

But he was fine.

He told Gaius that he was fine after he tripped and fell over the desk that’s been in that same spot for over five years, he told Gwen he was fine after stumbling into her during their morning walks, he told Lance and Gwaine he was fine when he managed to avoid having lunch with them four days in a row.

Did they believe him? That didn’t really matter, nor did he try to look too closely at their suspicious eyes following him everywhere he went.

Arthur pretended not to see Merlin drop all the laundry the third time in a row, or when he spilled all the dishes three inches away from the table, or when he slipped on the floors he just cleaned and fell directly into the king’s arms. Arthur had simply righted Merlin back up and went on his way. It was actually quite out of character—so much so that each time Merlin fumbled, he stayed completely still, waiting for the yells of annoyance that weirdly never came.

By the sixth day of mistakes, Merlin had enough.

“Are you okay?”

Arthur peered up from his lunch, looking first at the dirty laundry spread out on the floor then at the frustrated, and rather exhausted, Merlin whose hands were firmly on his hips out of frustration.

“Me?”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Yes, you. Who else would I be asking?”

“I’m fine,” Arthur chose to ignore the jabs for now, focusing on Merlin’s face as it morphed back and forth between confusion and tiredness.

“Are you sure?”

Arthur stood up, stretched, came around his desk, and then leaned against it to have a better look at his servant.

“Yes.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes, but it truly did seem his king was feeling alright. He figured he might as well talk about what was wrong here.

“Well,” Merlin started, unsure yet loud enough that he could hear, “you haven’t been yelling at me.”

Surprisingly, Arthur let out a loud chuckle, the noise making Merlin’s eyes widen in even more confusion.

“What’s so funny about that?” Merlin crossed his arms defiantly, kicking some pretend dust on the ground to avoid looking back up. “It’s true.”

“Ah, Merlin,” Arthur laughed a little more. “Is that the only thing you wanted to talk about?”

Merlin would be lying if he said he knew that his king meant—and with the lack of everything lately, he was sure it was affecting what he could have missed.

“I think so?”

Sighing, Arthur walked towards Merlin, and then suddenly guided them both to the edge of his giant bed. Merlin let him—out of confusion and mostly because of the fact that he couldn’t fight him off even if he wanted to.

“Morgana and Gwen told me I had to be patient with you, but, honestly, with the way you’re going, I think you would kill youself before saying anything to me.”

Merlin tilted his head, “With the way I’m going?”

“Dumbass,” Arthur gently flicked his servant’s forehead. “Do you even know that you look like a walking carcass?”

“Do I?” Merlin looked down at himself, moving his fingers back and forth. “I think I look normal.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Arthur sighed again, rubbing his own forehead in frustration. “Merlin-,” he looked the warlock directly in the eyes, the motion freezing Merlin more than anything could, “-what’s wrong? Why aren’t you getting sleep?”

As if that was all it took, Merlin immediately slouched, his eyes watering up at the question, and he tried to cover it up with his hands holding his hands. But it was too late, Arthur had already seen it, lightly forcing Merlin’s hands away to rub the tears off himself. The featherlight action was so tender that Merlin felt like he was barely even there.

Was this actually his Arthur? His Arthur, the one that gets annoyed too easily? Mad quickly? Kills for a living? Was he always this soft?

“Merlin,” another tear wiped away, “please tell me what’s been going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

That was the point, wasn’t it? Merlin never wanted to let people in, to see the world as burnt and empty as he sometimes saw it, to see the world as broken and shattered and lost as he did.

“I…”

And when Arthur only looked back at him with so much concern and attention, Merlin felt he had no other choice but to tell the truth.

“I…been having nightmares.”

“Do you want to talk about them?”

Merlin hesitated. Did he want to? No. Should he? He remembered his mother once telling him that burdens are better lifted when they were shared by the shoulders of the people we loved, and suddenly, he didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore.

His head fell to his king’s shoulder, “It’s always the same. I’m on the pyre. You’re on the one in front of me. But,” Merlin shook his head into Arthur, the king responding with kind reassurances and soft motions on the warlock’s back. “But I never burn—it’s you. I watch you burn and burn and burn, and I can never get to you in time. One night, I would get mere inches away before it exploded, while the other I would be too tightly bound myself to even get an inch closer—but every night I never make it to you. I can never save you.”

By the end, Merlin’s cries were being completely absorbed by Arthur’s newly cleaned red tunic, but the king didn’t complain nor move, only holding the warlock closer to him.

“When I try to eat, I can only taste soot. When I blink too long, I see your face staring at me through the flames. When I walk, I see you getting further away from me. I’m so tired, Arthur…”

Merlin’s voice quieted as he continued, his wet eyes blinking slowly on Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur took Merlin’s face between his hands, gently lifting the servant to face him, before whispering, “You’re safe here, Merlin. You can sleep here—I’ll keep us both safe, okay? No one can get in here and take me away.”

Merlin drowsily nodded, his face covered in snot and tears and a sadness that Arthur hated to see more than he could even admit.

Slowly, Arthur moved them both to lay on his bed, Merlin tucked safely in his side, the warlock’s legs wrapped around the king’s torso as if to make sure the man wouldn’t move a muscle as he slept. And even though Arthur wasn’t originally tired, being wrapped up in someone he loved so completely drew him right into a peaceful sleep (and not that he will mention it, but these past few days watching Merlin was ruining his own sleep schedule, too.).

By the time Merlin woke up, it was early daylight. He barely opened his eyes, opting to slowly rubbing the person’s back that he held in his arms.

His eyes flew open and his body stiffened once he remembered he doesn’t sleep with anyone, but he only found a softly smiling, already awake Arthur looking at him with so much love that Merlin’s fully melted back into him.

Was this heaven? Merlin would have to say it was at least it’s his perfect heaven.

“How are you feeling?” Arthur asked, his voice still a bit raspy from sleep.

Merlin didn’t avoid the usual urge to move Arthur’s hair out of his face, “Better. You?”

Humming his “good,” Arthur basically purred into Merlin’s hand, making the warlock giggle, moving to play with the king’s hair instead.

After a few seconds of peaceful silence, Merlin felt the guilt gnaw at his heart enough to stop and look at the king in his arms.

“I’m sorry if I made you worry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Arthur huffed, moving Merlin’s hand back to their place in his hair. “You made everyone worry, you dingus. I was yelled at to give you space by multiple people—but it turns out I have very little patience for such things.”

Merlin laughed lightly—that was more like the king than anything else that has happened lately.

“Merlin,” Arthur smiled, making sure the servant was looking at him. “You are not alone anymore. I know you had to be for so long, but you’re not anymore. Not as long as I’m around. I know how much shit you carry—please let me help you hold it all. I have broad shoulders, I can carry more than your scrawny little things.”

Again, Merlin puffed out a laugh, but he stopped in favor of holding Arthur’s face, holding the golden king so gingerly as though he was made out of porcelain.

“If I burn, you burn?”

Arthur took Merlin’s hand from his face and kissed his palm—“Wherever you go, I go. And if it be to death, let it be. I go willingly. No fires can stop our future. We will always find our way around the scorched edges.”

“Together, huh?” Merlin whispered, still in a bit of a disbelief that this was real, that Arthur had accepted him so completely that they could do this as one.

“Hmmhmm, but before that,” Arthur jumped up randomly, surprising Merlin as the king’s hand reached out for him. “Let’s get breakfast.”

Giggling, Merlin gratefully grabbed the offered hand, his starving stomach roaring as if in answer.

It wasn’t going to be easy or perfect or without pain, but his dream was wrong. He knew that now.

If Arthur was on the pyre, Merlin was always going to reach him—no one, nothing, could ever stop him otherwise.

[muirmarie]

.

[crossbackpoke-check]

inspired by @colap1nto <3 and posting here to hold myself accountable: writevember! attempting to write something every day no matter how much and what it is

i am however inventing stipulations for myself so i cannot weasel my way out of it, which includes a valid definition of “write”:

actively put words into a document in the form of a proper fic!!! too many wip not enough hands!!

poems (actually laughed at me coming up with this but maybe i will go back to my roots)

research/meta/primers

tag stories are permissible IF i actually compile and edit them into a readable document that day

editing to post to ao3 (the optimism) is also valid. it takes me so long

i do have concrete arbitrary deadlines for one and a half fics that i would LOVE to finish and post in november (dewey^2 and [redacted :)]) so i’m hoping this helps!! also, this is secretly just a sticker chart where i get to put down emojis for each fic i worked on and check off boxes but a win is a win

day 1:🪻🐈‍⬛

day 2: 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)

day 3:🫃2️⃣

day 4: 🍎

day 5:🫃2️⃣

day 6: 📑, 💌

day 7:🫃2️⃣ AND ☁️💧. who is she

day 8:🪻🐈‍⬛

day 9:🫃2️⃣

day 10:🫃2️⃣

day 11:🫃2️⃣ we are on a STREAK and also a countdown 🫡

day 12:🫃2️⃣

day 13:🫃2️⃣

day 14: 📬💍

day 15: 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)

day 16:🫃2️⃣

day 17: 🔴 ⚫️,🫃2️⃣

day 18:🪻🐈‍⬛

day 19:🪻🐈‍⬛, 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)

day 20:🫃2️⃣

day 21:🫃2️⃣, 🤫 🪽🃏

day 22:🫃2️⃣

day 23: 💯❕

day 24: 🪢

day 25: 🐛🏮🦋

day 26:🫃2️⃣

day 27:🫃2️⃣

day 28:🫃2️⃣

day 29:🫃2️⃣

day 30:🫃2️⃣

WRITEMBER RECAP: an overall sucess!!!! this was so much fun and really forced me to write even if it was only a little bit every day. like, to the point that i'm debating doing a cute little twelve days of christmas snippet fest. absolutely could not have finished and published dewey^2 p2 without this challenge or posted p3 :)

thirty days of writing

twelve different fics worked on

poems: 1

i have no word count for you sorry i wish i did but it is at least over a few thousand words!!!!

times i wrote for a day past midnight (making it technically the next day) but because i was still awake i counted it for that day: at least 17 if not closer to like. 25

tags i forgot what they mean: one. what the FUCK is 🪢??? OH MY GOD I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THAT IS NEVERMIND

duolingo streak (worked on the same fic in a row): 5

[loelett]

anyone can unfollow if they think it's cool to post or purposefully interact with ai art btw

[ollypopwrites]

half the ao3 reddit is wholesome interactions about great comments and relationships made through fandom or just typical like hobbyists airing pet peeves and whatnot

the other half is people talking about fic like it’s fucking published literature and i need people to stop doing that. you’re so far up your ass about numbers/stats it’s actually embarrassing.