#there are definitely going to be edits this is such a rough draft

[tathrin]

Writing three thousand words of The Definitive* History of Oropher was definitely not on today’s agenda...but here we are, I guess!

*definitive as in the definitive version in my head, not actually “definitive” in any way; obviously 80% of this is pure invention because Oropher barely even appears in the Unfinished Tales and basically nowhere else so we’re not working with a lot of canon here is what I’m saying.

And since I’ve written this nonsense out, I figure I might as well share it because frankly, the world needs more Oropher in it...and I might as well have something to show for my squandered day, even if it’s just an extremely geeky tumblr post about a dead elf-king.

And no I will not be including his deadname or his dead-to-him-after-the-Kingslaying name, because he wouldn’t want me to.

—Under a cut for both length and inevitable later edits—

Oropher was one of the first generation of Teleri, born before the Sun and the Moon were placed in the sky. He followed Thingol (then called Elwë) and his brother Olwë on their slow journey to Valinor but, like the rest of group that had fallen in love with the lands of Beleriand while they waited there, he refused to leave with the Valar when Thingol went missing.

When Thingol returned with his wife Melian, Oropher joined in the building of the Kingdom of Doriath and was from then on one of the Sindar. (At that time he was still going by his first name, but that is not a name recorded in any histories that have survived, so he will heretofore be referred to only by his third name as it is the only one by which he would allow himself to later be known.) He was fascinated and delighted by the strange dwarves who carved the caverns of Menegroth, which Oropher always held were the greatest and most elegant of all dwellings ever built in Middle-earth, even long years after they had been destroyed.

When the Green-elves of Denethor came to Beleriand and established themselves in Ossiriand, which they named Lindon, and brought with them warnings about Orcs and other foul creatures in the north and the east, Oropher was one of the quickest of Thingol's people to arm himself; for he (at that time still believed by all including himself to be a maiden; but the elves did not scorn women from their armies as many later Men did) loved his home and to Oropher love always manifested as a blazing urge to protect more than to possess, so he was determined to defend it against all threats.

It was in that time, before Morgoth destroyed the Two Trees, while the lands of Beleriand were still lit only by the stars, that Oropher fell in love and wed his husband, another elf of Doriath. Their son was born shortly before the Two Trees were destroyed, and Thranduil first opened his eyes in the gloaming before the coming of the Sun and Moon.

The family had many happy years in Doriath under the rule of Thingol and Melian, who were both beloved rulers and dear friends, and Thranduil grew especially close to Celeborn, Thingol's grand-nephew. The two were accounted nearly as close as brothers in those days.

When the First Age brought Finrod and Galadriel to Doriath, Oropher joined in the happy welcome of these long-estranged kin of his lord. It was at this time that he chose a new name, having determined that he would henceforth be an ellon instead of an elleth. Being charmed by the language that the Noldor had brought with them out of Valinor, and one of the few Sindar elves to begin learning it with enthusiasm, he crafted this in Quenya and was for a time quite pleased with it. His husband, too, briefly took a Quenya name, and it is likely that they gave one to their son as well, although no histories now record them.

Young Thranduil was especially taken with the prowess of Galadriel, and was delighted when his dear friend Celeborn married her, although even at that time he considered her less cheerful than she might have been; for in those days darkness had not yet darkened the hearts of the Sindar in Doriath. Indeed, Oropher at first argued with Thingol that the elves of Doriath should have closer ties with the Noldor and fight themselves in the war against Morgoth—although he ceased to make such arguments once the fell deeds of Fëanor and his sons became known.

It was at this point that Oropher abandoned the Quenya name he had given himself, and named himself Oropher instead. This was the name he bore for the rest of his life, and his first two were never spoken again; for the first was no longer suited to him, and the second felt like poison in his ears. Never again would Oropher let any word of Quneya pass his lips, for all that he had once praised the language as being the most beautiful tongue known or spoken.

Even after the truth of the Kinslaying at Alqualondë was revealed, the family of Oropher did not turn aside from their friendship with Galadriel and Finrod, accounting them as having been beguiled by the fell and faithless Feanor rather than judging them for being faithless themselves. They would be less forgiving of future betrayals, however, and would eventually grow estranged even from Celeborn in the years after Doriath's fall and the War of Wrath.

Oropher was left particularly bitter by the betrayal of the dwarves who coveted the Nauglamír, although he and his family survived the Battle of the Thousand Caves. He was left even more bitter, however, by the departure of Melian—whom he had heretofore adored as both queen of Doriath, and wife of his dear friend Thingol—because to him, her departure back to Valinor after Thingol's murder seemed to be yet another betrayal, for were not the people of Doriath hers as well? Should she not have stayed to protect them in Thingol's stead?

It seemed then to Oropher that all things that came from Valinor brought ill with them in the end, even the once-dear Melian, for if she had not left and lifted the Girdle of Melian around Doriath, the dwarves would not have been able to plunder it and kill so many—but all the Valar, it now seemed to Oropher, had no sense of duty or love in their hearts, for it was faithless of Melian to abandon her people in her sorrow over Thingol; surely she could only have done it if she never truly believed the Sindar to be her people at all, but that was no suitable attitude even for a member of a society, let alone a ruler of it. For years after, he would not even speak of his former friend, so bitter was the wound her departure over the Sea left on his heart.

Oropher has never been one to give up on a cause or duty, even when perhaps he ought to; he thus has little respect for those who are less steadfast (or less stubborn) than he, and is especially bitterly disappointed when his friends prove faithless (or sensible).

However, stubborn as he was, Oropher did allow his mind to change when circumstances warranted rather than clinging to old beliefs in the face of new knowledge; his opinion of the Green-elves, who had settled in Ossiriand under Thingol's generosity, had not heretofore been great; he did not dislike them, but he was not impressed by what he saw as their shirking flight from the Orcs in the north and the east and their decision to take refuse in Thingol's lands rather than rally and retake the ones they had left. After the Battle of Sarn Athrad, when the Green-elves helped Beren destroy the dwarves who had plundered Doriath, his opinion of them was raised much higher, and he thought of them henceforth as a brave and stalwart people.

He was pleased when Dior came to Doriath and was one of the peredhel's supporters when he took up the kingship of his grandfather. Oropher let go his bitterness and wrath then for a time in wonder at the renewed glory of Doriath under Dior's rule, although his sorrow for his lost friends never left him (nor did he ever fully forgive Melian for what he saw as her abandonment, although his heart lightened towards her somewhat in these days, and he could at least now remember with happiness the old days with his friends before Thingol died).

After Lúthien's death, when the Necklace of the Dwarves came to Dior, and rumor of the Silmaril within it spread to the Sons of Fëanor, Oropher scoffed at their demands to have the gem returned to them; for ever since word had reached Doriath of the Kinslaying, Oropher had had little love in his heart for any of the Noldor and for those of Fëanor's line least of all; although he had grown close to Galadriel, who was a kinswoman of his friend Thingol, and especially to her husband, Celeborn, who was a particularly dear friend of his son, Thranduil. It was not until the Sons of Fëanor came to Doriath to claim the Silmaril that Oropher's heart hardened against all their kin, including his one-time friend Galadriel; for the blood and the grief of that day never left him.

Oropher's husband was killed in the Second Kinslaying when the Sons of Fëanor assaulted Doriath with a surprise attack in the middle of winter. Oropher himself slew Curufin, although he was grievously wounded in the fight, and was forced by his son to flee bloody and weeping. Thranduil's sword was broken in the battle, but Oropher's sword and that of his murdered husband had been forged in the early days of arming when the Green-elves first brought word of Orcs and other dangers, and both blades remained hale and beautiful through all the ages of the world, despite the elf-blood that now stained them.

Along with some of the other survivors of Doriath, Oropher and his son now made their home in Lindon, and lived there briefly among both Green-elves and Noldor. However, some thirty years after Doriath fell, Maedhros heard that Elwing had survived the Kinslaying at Doriath with the Nauglamír and its Silmaril, and when news of the subsequent slaughter at the Havens of Sirion reached Oropher, he decided to have no more to do with any Noldor and led a small group of elves away from Lindon before the Valar returned to begin the War of Wrath against Morgoth.

Oropher and his small contingent of Sindar elves had no interest in getting involved in "the Valar's fight" or in "the wars of the Noldor," as they termed the current conflict; instead they sought the distant Silvan elves in the east, and there found Greenwood the Great and took refuge there. They were welcomed gladly by the Silvan elves, who had never suffered the bloody betrayals of the Noldor; the Sindar elves who had traveled with Oropher were relieved at the salvation they saw in these wild woods, and abandoned much of the ways of the Sindar in order to cleave themselves to their new Silvan people instead. They deemed the culture of the Silvan elves more natural and more wholesome, for it was free of interference from the Valar, whom many of them now blamed for much of the strife that had assailed them.

Many of the Sindar refugees flung away their swords, happy to think themselves free of the conflicts in which such weapons would be required, and heart-sick at the elven blood that they had been forced to spill during the Second Kinslaying. Oropher, however, kept his sword close, and Thranduil, who now carried the sword of his other father, did as well; they remembered well the lessons of Doriath, which had fallen when the Girdle of Melian was removed from it, and they knew that there were no such powers to protect their wild Greenwood.

The elves of Greenwood the Great did not participate in the War of Wrath, although they were not ignorant of the chaos and danger; even their fair forest was shaken by the upheaval. They kept to their trees, however, and turned away all messengers. At that time, Oropher led some of the Sindar elves to build a great refuge upon Amon Lanc, in case it should be needed: the tower was built both high amidst the huge trees and deep under the tall hill, and was fashioned to much resemble the lost Menegroth; although since it was made without dwarven skill the caverns could not hope to rival that lost magnificence. Its walls were sturdy, however, and its doors thick, and it would serve as a strong refuge that would turn back many an assault with ease; for in addition to its sturdy walls of stone, the citadel of Amon Lanc was festooned with many trees and watch-posts from which sharp-sighted archers might rain peril down on any enemy, and the elves of Greenwood boasted great skill with their short bows.

The native Silvan elves were somewhat bemused by the insistence of their Sindar neighbors that such a structure was necessary, but they were charmed by the craftsmanship of its creation—for they themselves had yet done no stonework or metalwork at that time, and lived in light wooden dwellings among their trees—and the perilous days of the War of Wrath had taught them caution, at least in theory if not in practice, and so they were glad enough to have Oropher's expertise in setting-up a strong place to which they might retreat should danger ever come to their woods.

Amon Lanc was abandoned some centuries later not because it fell to any attacker, but because of encroachment to the south and west by the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm and the coming of too many Noldor, like Celebrimbor and Galadriel, to Lothlórien. The elves of Greenwood were reclusive, the native Silvan wood-elves having heard many cautionary tales from their new Sindar kin, and the refugees from Doriath having still great bitterness and suspicion in their hearts from all the dark things they had survived. So slowly the Greenwood elves withdrew from the south of their woods, leaving the great citadel of Amon Lanc abandoned to the trees—and later, to the dark and evil things that would claim its mighty walls for their own.

Those evil things did not come to Greenwood for many years, however. Sauron first assailed and overran the lands of the elves in Eregion outside Greenwood's trees in S.A. 1697, and scattered the survivors. Then the Doors of Durin were shut, cutting that kingdom off from the outside world. Greenwood did not interfere, save to draw further north. By the end of the Second Age, the elves of Greenwood dwelt mainly in the western glens of the Emyn Duir, although they still roamed freely through the forest at will, and there was as yet no Shadow over their trees.

Even they could not ignore the fact that Shadow was gathering in the lands outside, however, and while they paid little note to the attacks on Gondor and Imladris, when the Last Alliance of Elves and Men marched over the Misty Mountains in S.A. 3434 and came to the Vales of Anduin, elves from both Greenwood and Lothlórien joined them, the latter led by Amdir. It was at that time that Greenwood the Great took Oropher as a king, although many of the histories written by outsiders assumed that he had claimed kingship shortly after his arrival in their woods; in truth the Greenwood elves had never bothered with kingships or lords the way the High Elves did, for they had never needed one before they went to war.

They chose Oropher then because he was the oldest of the Sindar refugees who had made their home in Greenwood, and the Sindar had experience at war which the Silvan elves did not. It had been Oropher's voice most of all that had pushed for the building of safe strongholds, and had cautioned his people to be wary of the dangers outside their trees, and they trusted in his wisdom and in his bitter history. Oropher had never sought to rule over anyone, having himself been content as a subject of first Thingol and then Dior, and then finding joy in the wild Greenwood where neither kings nor Kinslaying had ever come; but when his people needed a leader to guide them into war, he agreed to shoulder that task.

Calling himself King of Greenwood the Great, rather than merely captain or war-leader, was a choice made out of consideration for the Noldor and Men and Dwarves he knew they would have to ally themselves with; Oropher knew that his people, with their small numbers and scanty arms, would garner little respect from the High Elves at first glance—and he was not about to bow and place himself and his people under the command of the High-King of the Noldor, for all that he had agreed to swallow his pride enough to march to war with them.

And so Greenwood claimed a king, and marched to Mordor behind his banner, and they fought and died fiercely at his side out of love and loyalty rather than from oaths or duty.

Amdír pledged his warriors to Oropher's leadership, rather than Gil-galad's, the Greenwood elves being much greater in number than the Galadhrim from Lothlórien. They were friends of old, and while they had grown distant in recent years when Amdír welcomed many Noldorian exiles to his land and Oropher did not, there was still much trust and affection between them. It was Amdír who first pressed for a swift charge against Sauron's forces, thinking to wipe them out quickly and end the war with a mighty opening blow, but Oropher took to the idea immediately and it was he who argued the strongest against Gil-galad and Elendil's insistence on a more cautious assault.

Oropher died in the Battle of Dagorlad along with over half his army when they, and the Galadhrim, charged the enemy before Gil-galad gave the order for an attack. No one survived to tell whether it was Oropher or Amdír who gave the fatal order to charge prematurely, or whether it was agreed upon mutually by them both, they were in agreement on many things, and it was held likely in later days that they had decided between them that if they led their forces forward, the rest of the army would have no choice but to follow them rather than waiting on the orders of Gil-galad, with whom they had so often clashed.

Rather than retreat and risk taking heavy casualties for no purpose when they realized that Gil-galad was not going to order the rest of the army after them, Oropher and Amdír pushed forward with their doomed attack, hopeful that they might still win a retreat from Sauron's forces, at least, if not a victory; hopeful at least that they might do some damage to his army, rather than fall in vain. Amdír and the Galadhrim were cut off and driven into the marshes, and half of them perished there; the thousands of bodies that would be buried there later earned this place the name of the Dead Marshes, and memories of the tragic slaughter there ever-after haunted those lands.

The rest of the army of the Last Alliance eventually followed the rash charge of the Silvan elves, but too late to save the leaders of the Galadhrim and the Greenwood. The battle they began lasted for many months before Gil-galad and Elendil finally managed to turn the tide and press Sauron's forces back to the Black Gate. Enough of Sauron's forces died in that long battle that the remnants were driven back and besieged, and the surviving Greenwood elves could not help but wonder bitterly if they might have claimed a victory then if the High-King had only followed Oropher when he first charged.

Despite cutting down more than four hundred Orcs, Oropher died in the first onslaught and his son, Thranduil, was left to lead the surviving warriors of Greenwood for the seven years of siege that followed.

When Oropher's body was found in the carnage, he had been pierced by so many blades and was covered in so much blood and gore—both elvish and orcish—that it was only by the gleam of his golden hair that he was recognized. The body of his gon, a Silvan elf of Greenwood named Gilthawen, lay atop him where she had been hacked nearly in two by the enemies' weapons before she fell. Oropher's sword was afterwards presented to his son, but Gilthawen's lighter weapon lay shattered beneath their broken bodies and her hands had been ravaged by the heavy orcish blade she had wrested from her foes to use in its stead.

They were buried together with as much honor as the beleaguered Greenwood warriors could manage in that foul place, along with the rest of the fallen who now lie in the Dead Marshes.

[x-gon-give-it]

WHOOO!

If all goes well, expect an update for “Wade Wilson’s Guide to Studying Your Spider” tomorrow!

I’ve just got a couple more edits to go and that baby will be ready for posting! 🥳🥳

[artful-peculiarities]

I uh. Finished the first chapter draft for Ouroboros. Little sneak peaks below the cut I suppose.

“Deep down, you know that something has changed. You can’t quite put your finger on it yet.

-

That’s what it is. You’re alive.

-

Death does not always mean an end. It is simply a pit stop on a very long highway. You still have many miles to travel.

It is best if you get back in your car and begin to drive again.

-

How long can you take it? The way you have a mouth but no voice to speak through.

Can you take it?

-

You realize you are being rebuilt. It is uncomfortable and itchy knowledge. You feel it in the prickling numbness at the tips of your fingers, the eternal ache in your temples, and most of all, you fear.

Your aches and pains are all fear.

You are no longer human.”

[ghostbite0]

The horrors have returned D: I hope you get better soon!

Anyway if you're up to it I'd love to hear about the pint sized pillars "kid modes" that they have. It's so cute :( I just want them to have happy childhoods

hi anon! im so sorry i took so long to respond to this ask— this ended up in my drafts with how often i was going back to edit it haha ;u; i had to brainstorm a bit!

in order of eldest to youngest—

gyomei

sweetest soft spoken sensitive teenager ever

he really doesn’t change all that much— he’s definitely less “leadery” and “old” though. he acts like any other kid

very gentle and humble. he gets easily flustered

amane gave him a kiss on the head and gyomei had to excuse himself

sanemi and tengen found him knelt down and trying to hold back tears. he was not expecting such affection since he’s used to always being the caretaker

one day he was deep in kid mode while everyone else was fine. and him being so naturally kind and loving caused several of them to drop down with him

tengen

he’s 10x more silly and playful

however it’s also obvious he has some self confidence issues

tengen doesn’t go kid mode a lot but when he does he gets really embarrassed and upset about being seen like that

he’s like those disney channel cartoons where the little kid thinks someone is really beautiful so he constantly gives them flowers and gifts. thats him with suma, makio, and hinatsuru

“honey you don’t need to do that… we’re all married to you in the future!”

“WE’RE MARRIED?”

when tengen recovers from kid mode he is as red as a tomato while his wives fawn over him and reassure him its okay

kid mode tengen loves playing with the little ones, and rough-housing with sanemi and rengoku

giyuu

ohhhhh he’s a happy little thing. it freaks everyone out at first

very friendly and compassionate, though he mostly keeps to himself

kid mode giyuu is a little more talkative, but only after he comes out of his shell

usually it’s one of the older boys or shinobu who can get him to engage with everyone

if one of the other kids struggles he will awkwardly shuffle over and give them a hug

kid mode giyuu is fairly close with rengoku, kid mode or not

he also really likes being around sanemi and obanai, since they are his age

if all three of them , or if just sanemi and obanai , are in kid mode, they’re a trio of best friends

sanemi

he is so god damn helpful

sanemi is pretty sweet and smiley, and he always leaps at the opportunity to help one of the other kids

kid mode sanemi tends to constantly wander up to kagaya (or whoever is babysitting) and ask what he can do

but every time they just reassure him its ok, and he should go be a kid and play with the other ones

he’s disappointed but then he gets really excited when tengen and rengoku invite him to play and he’s the happiest little thing

kid mode sanemi likes hanging out with the big kids, especially tengen. tengen (and kid mode tengen) think its sweet, and make a point of including him whenever they can

he’s weirded out by genya being older and taller than him but genya makes up for it via piggy back rides

obanai

shy and jittery little thing. he doesn’t drop his guard until a bit into the transformation, even in kid mode

usually the telltale sign of obanai being in kid mode is how small he looks. he curls in on himself and his eyebrows furrow with anxiety

he’s also way more flustered around mitsuri. he has a big crush on her. kid mode mitsuri and mitsuri both find it adorable— though she doesn’t recognize the “crush” aspect. mitsuri just finds obanai very sweet and open

he is also really sensitive. you break a rule in a game? he’s upset. you take someone’s spot? he’s upset. you try to steal food from mitsuri? run

he always needs to be warm … if obanai is the only one in kid mode, you better believe everyone is offering him a warm hug or snuggles

obanai has a hard time choosing who to go to, so then half of them/all of them have a group hug

he whispers a lot. it can be hard to hear him sometimes

when he wants something, he frames it as “kaburamaru wants x” or “kaburamaru says y”

rengoku

think regular rengoku but now a literal child

honestly people cannot tell when he’s in kid mode or not. rengoku is sweet and chaotic no matter what

though kid mode rengoku tends to address everyone in a very polite manner. he calls gyomei “mr. himejima,” despite gyomei telling him he didn’t have to

he does get a little sad when people mention his dad. he will straight up start crying his heart out if he’s reminded of his mom in any way

kid mode rengoku tries to be a big brother to senjuro, and senjuro plays along, but then it cuts to rengoku being fast asleep and senjuro tucking him in, or senjuro having to help his brother get ready for bed

rengoku talks about senjuro whenever he can, kid mode especially. he has no filter at all

he would be a leash kid purely because he has a habit of forgetting small things and getting distracted and wandering off because he saw a cool butterfly and wanted to tell senjuro about it

mitsuri

similar to rengoku she doesn’t change all that much, but she’s even sweeter and more emotional than before

and like rengoku she’s more polite, though she doesn’t really have any problem asking for things or communicating her needs

kid mode mitsuri wanted to rough house too, but the older boys thought she would get hurt. she proceeded to lift sanemi up and hold him above her head

since then she has been invited to play with them every single session

she thinks obanai is super cute and is less filtered about it. same with muichiro, though mitsuri will just walk over and pinch his cheeks or scoop him up into a hug

when they play house, mitsuri is always the mama, and muichiro is always her baby

she and shinobu regularly team up to do the boy’s hair and makeup

shinobu

mischievous little beast

scary smart, but way more obvious about it

this four year old will casually list all the elements on the periodic table then pretend nothing happened , as to intimidate the others

everyone fears her

LOTS of batting her eyelashes and an extended “pleeeeaaaaassssseeee”

she has her rage and can be a grumpy kid. she’s usually well behaved, but if she didn’t get a nap, or if she’s hungry, that’s when she gets more bristly and sensitive

shinobu tends to be more open too. there’s multiple instances where she started getting really sad out of nowhere, and when pulled aside by gyomei, she would start crying about how much she misses her big sister

she and kanao are still extremely close. kanao loves having a little sister, and does her hair and plays dress up with her

she still pesters giyuu. though when giyuu is also in kid mode, the two can usually be found giggling and chatting, and giyuu will give her piggy back rides and what not

muichiro

literally a one year old baby

the sweetest and happiest little baby. he is usually seen smiling and his giggles will fill up the room

he loves being around the others. he especially loves “play time” because he’ll crawl around on the ground and go right up to people

mostly gyomei. he mostly approaches gyomei

but as happy as he is, he cries pretty easily. can’t find his stuffed bunny? cries. cant fall asleep? cries

everyone spoils the hell out of him. they love when he goes baby mode. he is the cutest little thing

lots of idle babbles and muichiro making one-worded sentences that mostly consist of him saying someone’s name or pointing out something

amane and kagaya are extremely paternal to the point baby mode muichiro refers to them as his mama and papa

it breaks everyone’s heart

the baby always wants someone’s attention. even if its as simple as being in their arms. he especially loves being with gyomei

there have been several instances where he noticed obanai wasn’t eating, and would try to feed him his baby food so “obi” could get a full belly

tengen and sanemi started laughing and it resulted in the two getting a face full of mushed up veggies and rice

[ayustuff]

ᴇᴠᴇɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ɪ ᴍᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪѕ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴ ɪᴄᴇ | ᴘʜ!ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ × ɢɴ!ғɪɢᴜʀᴇ ѕᴋᴀᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

『　ᴀɴᴏɴ: Hi there! I love your writing so much - you’re so talented 😭 Can you write a pro hero Bakugo x figure skater reader who’s going to a competition and he surprises them there??　』

➴ | ᴀ/и: awwiee thankies! ♡ i'm sorry i can't answer your og ask bc i can't edit the draft so i had to re-create hshshs (i still don't know how this app works) anyway you get it, back to da post!

• ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1ᴋ+

• ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: a little angst, fluff all around. (and forgive me if some of this are not realistic hshshs idk the rules of figure skating!)

• ʟɪɴᴋѕ: request a fanfic | navi (where the rules are stated)

in katsuki's mind, he thinks he wouldn't make it due to his busy job, he even yelled at his secretary for not making a proper out-of-work day for him. the secretary right now is probably on the edge, you are still amused that they haven't gotten fired or quit.

and for you, you weren't expecting him to be here either, you thought he was busy and you're okay with that but katsuki didn't seem to want to miss one of your competition. he's even on time when the building opened, hell, he even checked if you're all fine, not hungry or anything, and made sure you had a good stretch before you stepped a foot on the ice.

he is acting like he's half your coach and half your mom! though the moment his rough hand meets your soft skin such as to correct your position while stretching has you melting, has his hands ever been that big?

not to mention, he is definitely holding back from squishing every part of your body.

once the program started you bid him a goodbye for now, a kiss on the cheek goodbye for luck you say. hot damn, you really want to get out of the friendzone don't you?

eventually he got dumbfounded at the kiss, absent mindedly looking for his seat among the fans and sit on his paid chair.

after katsuki regained his conciousness he start to observe the other participants before you and after you, by that, he already knew you're gonna win. he just know it, his baby... actually his best friend is gonna take the trophy home like he does.

his face was in all awe and his eyes had the same sparks in them as the first time he watched you performing to now. and you know those pretty outfits you wear when you perform? yes, you have that on, it always makes him bubbly in the inside seeing or even thinking of you with it on.

like what katsuki predicted, you won, he's the first feral dog that ran to you with a grin on his face and he's the one to congratulate you with a pat on the top of your head.

when all the interview, awarding, and other things are done, here he is hugging you from your behind as you two walk to the parking lot just behind the building in this winter night, it's like you both depend for warmth against the cold temperature.

looking up at his face with red blush, you quietly slip your hands on his hands and intertwine your fingers with his. his skin turned a little pale from the cold and he has red blushes over his knuckles, cheeks, nose, and ears, you are thinking to yourself maybe the extra blush is because of you... as a natural confirmation from your heart it says maybe you're right.

"i still love you from that day." he whispers to himself though you didn't really comprehend what he was saying because it was muffled by his thick scarf. you only shrugged and didn't say anything, you just want him to hold you this close everyday even if it is the winter that only caused this to happen... and well it isn't really mentioned by the two of you, he surprisingly took the initiative to hug you from your behind while saying a small 'shut up' when you opened your mouth to tease him about 'not being cold'.

at the way to you two's shared apartment, you immediately shaked katsuki as soon as you saw a possible skating area of what looks like a sturdy frozen lake. you instantly invited him to ice skate with you even if you just finished competing.

katsuki sighs with a slight smile, "still not tired?" he drives the car near the lake and parks it there. your gentleman then gets out of the car to open your door, you give him a cheeky grin and hopped out of the car with your rather expensive ice skates and another pair.

"what's the other pair for, hah?" he asked despite that he already had a feeling that you would force him to ice skating, you always force him in doing things anyway so he became more comfortable with it.

kneeling down facing his shoes you respond, "for you." you made him sit on the grass, take his shoes off and replaced it with the ice skates. finishing, you give his leg a pat then stepped on the ice. waiting for him to join you, you held katsuki's hands as if this was his first. even these little things makes katsuki's heart go flutter.

katsuki didn't really need a help since he's good at learning new things plus he already went on a few ice skating with you, bonus points that you're a really good teach to him.

looking deep into your eyes, katsuki drifts to the thoughts in his mind when he whispered to himself 'i still love you from that day.' earlier in the parking lot. katsuki never really knew when he fell, he just knew when he realized it. one thing he's sure, he's fallen inlove with you for such a long time already. to think about it his heart already pounded when you get closer to him before he realized that he's fallen.

even if you two spend so much time together, he hasn't confessed and it's okay. with you he didn't have to say 'i love you.' when he already has you with him everyday, he doesn't need to say it because he already has your attention, you already care for him, and you already give him affection.

and katsuki wouldn't say 'i love you.' just to hear you say 'i love you too as a friend!' even if you don't understand what he is truly the meaning of what he said because your dense, he just doesn't want his heart broken. even if you don't mean it, it hurts, it hurts so bad and this all is enough for now.

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

Gojo x Reader wip (The Marriage)

Author's Note: Hey guys. I recently read the interview about Gojo that was translated. It made me think about this wip I've had in my drafts forever. It's from the last chapter of my Gojo x Reader fic (The Marriage). It's hasn't been edited but I want to share it with you beauties. If you haven't already you can check out the series. The interview has got me in my feels. I had an upcoming fic planned with Naoya but I'm thinking about switching it to our blue eyed king. Anyway, here is the wip. Enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of illness, super rough draft so read at your own risk!!!

The was a bounty on Satoru Gojo’s head.

He was just a child and already curse users across the country were plotting their strategies to obtain him dead or alive. A child in possession of the six eyes? The reward money for even one of his eyes would be enough to live five lifetimes in luxury. 

The Gojo clan knew this and took preventative measures to ensure Satoru’s safety. However, all their efforts were put in jeopardy one afternoon when it was discovered by a maid that Satoru was not in his room, after an extensive sweep is was determined he had left the estate. 

“Satoru Gojo,” his uncle hissed.

~

An eleven year old Satoru walked the streets of Tokyo by himself, he had occasionally snuck out of the estate before, but this time was different, people were actively looking for him, his family, and two curse users. Satoru had noticed them following him for awhile now, an old woman and a man with thick eyebrows had been observing him from a rooftop cafe while he played in the arcade in the building across the street. At first he hadn’t done anything, knowing they weren’t stupid enough to make a move in front of so many non sorcerers. So he just focused on Pac-Man for the time being.

Other kids his age stood in small groups around the other machines. As much as he pretended he not to care a small part of him, buried by years of strict upberinging, wished to join them. Spend the day with people his own age and not worry about the fate of society. Normalcy would have been true freedom. 

~

When he had his fill he walked out of the arcade and glanced up at the curse users. Eyebrows, or Groucho as he had dubbed him, was still staring. 

Get a life.

He was fed up with them so he returned rhe gaze, knowing it wouldn’t be long until they sensed it, his cursed energy. And surely enough, after a few seconds Groucho and Granny began to recoil. They knew what he was, how easy it would be for him to take both of them out. He broke eye contact and started walking down the busy street.

~

Satoru bought a box of nerds and a can of Fanta from the nearby 7- Eleven. He decided on taking his goods into a Best Buy nestled into a shopping mall, there he decided to barricade himself in the home theater display room in front of the flat screen tvs. Finally left in peace he chugged his soda and shoved handfuls of purple and pink nerds into his mouth. He loved stuff like this but at home he was regulated to a strict diet. No process, high calorie, and not an ounce of flavor. He hated it, he didn’t want to go back, maybe he should just run away. His family would definitely have noticed his absence by now. They would send someone shortly, he’d just have to enjoy what time he had left. Satoru leaned back in the recliner and watched the repeating trailers and music videos that were played to display the effectiveness of the flat screen. A security guard tapped the back of the chair he was in. 

“Hey kid, this isn’t a lounge. You can’t take your crap in here.”

Satoru rolled his eyes and continued to watch the N’sync music videos. 

The guard stood in front of him. “Where are your parents.”

Why was everyone over the age of twenty giving him a hard time today. He didn’t have to deal with it not now. So he warped out of the chair and discreetly landed in front of the store. 

“Have a good day,” the cashier said as he walked out. 

The security guard stood flabbergasted in front of the now empty seat, littered with an empty soda can and stray pieces of candy. 

The music video ended and the trailer for Miss Congeniality started playing. 

~

Satoru wandered around the mall for awhile after that eventually stopping at a small movie theater next to Sears. 

The poster for X-Men caught his eye. He had wanted to see it for awhile know but had been denied by his uncle since it was dangerous. 

“One ticket for X- Men please.”

~

Satoru was lucky enough to have the whole theater to himself. He settled in the the middle of the aisle in the back. Finally some peace and quiet. The trailers dragged on and finally the fx logo appeared accompanied by an orchestra to signify the arrival of Hugh Jackman and his claws. He got through the first twenty minutes of the film before a familiar voice spoke beside him. 

“There you are,” his father softly spoke. 

Satoru sighed. He had felt his father’s presence before he could see him and sure enough a guard from the Gojo estate stood expecactantly at the end of the aisle. 

“How did you find me?” Satoru asked. 

“There were reports of two curse users retreating from a white haired threat. You don’t exactly blend in Satoru,” the old man chuckled. 

Satoru reluctantly stood up. “Are we going now?”

Much to his surprise his father sat down in the seat next to his. “What do you mean? The film just started.”

The security guard stepped forward. “Sir-”

He held up a hand to stop him. “Call my brother and tell him well be back at the estate later this evening. And have a few more guards on standby to patrol the mall. Can’t be too careful.”

The guard stepped out of the theater to make the call. Satoru’s father patted the seat next to him and Satoru hesitantly sat back down.”

“This is from that cartoon you used to like?” his father asked. 

“Yeah and the comics, you remember that?”

“Of course I do.”

The two of them settled in for the rest of the movie. 

~

“Well that was interesting. Did you enjoy the film?”

Satoru nodded as he walked alongside his father out of the theater. 

“And the white haired character? What was her name?”

“Storm.”

“She’s you’re favorite?”

Satoru nodded in excitement. He rarely got the opportunity to talk about things like this with others, his mind wandered back to the groups of kids in the arcade.

“Storm’s the strongest.”

His father smiled. “Then it’s fitting that she’s your favorite character.”

Satoru looked up to him and smiled back wishing he could stay there forever.

~

Instead of going straight home Satoru’s father takes him to the mall food court. “If you were just eating candy you’ll give yourself a belly ache.”

So his father buys him a cheeseburger with fries and a cherry coke along with a small salad for himself. 

Gojo notices how the security guard is eyeing the current head of the Gojo clan, it’s the same way everyone else has been looking at him, cautious of the possibility of him breaking. His father’s health hadn’t been doing so well, doctors and nurses were a frequent sighting around his room and it was clear how weak he really was. Over the last year he’d grown thin, his cheeks were so hollow. The salad in front of him was just for show, he’d only be able to get a few bites down before heaving it back up. At night he’d hear his Uncle and the rest of the men talking about how preparations needed to be made, how Satoru’s training needed to be accelerated so he’d be ready to assume the role of clan head. But he dind’t want to be the head, he wanted his father. His mother had passed when he was a baby, leaving her husband and son in the snake pit. And if his father left…

“Satoru? You’re crying.”

He hadn’t noticed. But sure enough salty tears ran down his face, staining his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“Son,” he murmured, extending his arms out.

It was rare, growing up in such a tradition family, to show emotions and be vulnerable. But Satoru rushed to his arms and let his father hold him. He knew if he didn’t he’d regret it. 

“Dad,” he muttered in his chest, cherishing the sound of his beating heart. 

“I know you’re sorry. And I’m sorry to. You’re so young but the weight of the world is on your shoulders.”

He pulled away and looked at his son in the eyes, those infinite blue eyes that connected the sea and the sky in harmony. 

“I know it seems lonely now. But someday you’ll be surrounded by people who love you. No one should be alone. Don’t worry. Let’s just go home.”

[raynewolferune]

Meta Jazz AIT Note/Update

So this is alive and well taking up brain space still. Part 3 is 90% done but I'm mid-way through editing it because I just realized everything has been taking place in a black hole setting. lol I have 2 modes; all the unnecessary background descriptions or none at all.

On that note, I have seen/received requests to post this on AO3 or use a masterpost. I will be organizing a masterpost on tumblr when I post Pt 3. As for AO3, I do have an account, but I have a personal rule not to post before I have 5 chapters written (because prior to that the AO3 writers curse strikes me). Good news, Pt 5 (or possibly Pt 6 but definitely not Pt 4 because WTF Brain???) is partially written already. Pt 3 is undergoing revision, & I have a rough idea for Pt 4 already. So basically, I don't think it will be terribly long before I'm posting this to AO3. If you want to be tagged on the post that will have that link once it's up, please reply to this post with that request. I will only be tagging people who request to be tagged on that post because I am not organized enough to try going back through all the other posts to find everyone. lol

Tldr; Pt 3 is mid-revision and will be up soon. Will make a masterpost when I post Pt 3. Pt 4 is being planned. Pt 5 is mid-draft because Jazz insisted. Once Pt 5 gets posted, I will start posting to AO3. If you want to be tagged to the AO3 link post after Pt 5 is posted, reply to this post letting me know.

[zivazivc]

Yesterday I watched Help! I'm A Fish and I had a good time! Chuck's seriousness and Fly's upbeat attitude made me think of Eddy M and Ravin respectively.

That movie is SO bizarre. I showed it to a friend a couple of weeks ago, so I watched it twice now, and we both kept screaming at all the emotional whiplash scenes jfksjhfdjh

I think I see what you mean about Eddy M and Ravin being like Chuck and Fly. Especially in the context of your headcanon where they had a rough childhood. They're not much like those characters in my version though.

Eddy M is a rude moody teen who is very matter-of-fact and headstrong - he's a 13-year-old who thinks he knows everything, and he will let you know that with sassy remarks and comebacks.

Ravin is definitely upbeat and more positive but I wouldn't call her Eddy's opposite because she is equally a smartass. She is just very jokey, self-aware nerd face emoji about it. She'll go "errrrmm, ACTually ☝" whenever she thinks she's right about something or when she just wants to annoy you. That's a good descriptor actually; instead of being rude the normal teenage way like Eddy, she is annoying - intentionally. It's a bit and she fully commits.

Dunno how to better describe them lol

Since I know you'll appreciate, I'm sharing a small chunk of my "Floyd runs into the techno troll and their kids" wip under the cut. It's been sitting and collecting dust for a while now because I have no idea how to finish it, but you can get a bit of an idea of what I imagine these two kids being like:

(for context, Floyd is helping Bruce at the bar and guess who happens to visit? And Floyd goes to take an order from them because he is a dumbass and needs too long to realize who he's talking to... The techno troll and Floyd have a private talk, it goes poorly and the techno troll lets him know that he doesn't want him to meet the kids or let them know who he is, and then Floyd hides behind the bar going full blown emo mode... (Also this is an unfinished draft so there might be some klunky parts, idk, I don't feel like editing it rn but I'm also very self conscious about my writing in general so I need to point this out 😬))

. . .

Floyd felt an intense misery wash over him. He really was a fuck up.

He stared at his feet for who knows how long (Maybe he had begun to dissociate?) when the faint sound of light feet stopping nearby made him look up.

Couldn’t this family gathering end already???

He nearly choked on his saliva while standing up in a desperate attempt to find something to busy himself with and not deal with this.

“Uh, h-hi, random kids I don’t know.”

He gave up at the sight of the empty sink with nothing to wash, and carefully looked at the two kids like they were going to bite him from any sudden movements. He probably shouldn’t stare too hard but that was what he ended up doing while taking in their appearance.

“How dumb do you think we are?” the boy—Edwin said with the distinct attitude and mannerism of a brash teen.

“From one to ten,” Ravin added quickly after and much more cheerily, while she pulled a small journal from her hair. She clicked her gel pen and pressed it against the paper in preparation. “Be honest.”

Floyd was a bit dumbfounded to be honest. “... What?” He straightened a little where he was still leaning against the sink and not facing them fully.

“Is on the slower side…” Ravin said out loud while scribbling the words down.

“We have to do this fast,” Edwin explained impatiently and with uncanny matter-of-fact-ness. “Dads think we went to the bathroom.”

“Uh… Do what fast?”

Ravin spoke up while staring at her journal: “How would you describe yourself?”

“What’s your favorite song?” asked Edwin.

"Would you say your hair is white and pink or white and red? And since when is it white? Dad never mentioned that."

“Do you think the words ‘drug addict hobo’ accurately describe you?”

“What’s better, hardcore or emo?”

“I told you it’s not emo!”

"Do you have any health history we should be aware of?" 

“If you were a bug, what type of bug would you be?

"Do we have any other siblings?" 

Floyd’s eyes grew wide from the onslaught of questions. “Whoa, whoa, slow down!” Then reluctantly he added “One at a time, please.” without even realizing he invited them into a conversation.

Edwin looked at his sister. “What was the first one?”

“How would you describe yourself? Three words.”

Floyd didn’t like the first question.

He should probably try thinking of positives…

“Uh…”

“Uhm…”

Panic.

“I’m a good singer. Well, I used to be…”

“That’s your personality?" Edwin deadpanned. "Singing?”

“I’ll just write down: bad self-image, bad under pressure, bad at understanding questions.”

"Those aren't personality traits either, sis."

"Fine! Unconfident, anti-equanimous, intelligently-impaired. There."

"Next question?"

“What’s your favorite song?”

Floyd's mouth was hanging open. He was pretty sure he just got called an insecure some-big-word idiot.

"Hello? We have a time limit. What's your favorite song?" 

“...T-That’s a hard question," he fumbled for words, "there’s so many songs, it would be impossible to choose.”

Ravin looked into her notepad with a sigh and jotted down: “Indecisive. Gives flakey vibes.”

Floyd didn’t know how to respond to that either. Would it be weird if he got upset? Because he was definitely offended. But then again maybe he deserved this. Like some kind of delayed karma.

“If you were a bug, what type of bug would you be?”

Floyd thought about it, trying to come up with some type of direct answer at least for this question. “Hmm… A grig, maybe?”

Edwin made a face. “What the heck is a grig?”

Ravin seemed to have an idea. She wrote down: “An old soul. Depressed.”

“That’s the opposite of a grig!”

“Have you heard of reverse self-awareness?”

“No…?”

“Probably ‘cause I just made it up. But the term kinda suits you." She scratched her scalp with the dull end of her pen."I think?”

Floyd, still feeling absolutely lost in the whole situation, continued to stare mutely.

Edwin was watching him judgingly. "You think there's any awareness there at all?"

Ravin gave a vague hum before getting back on track. "What do you do for a living?" 

"Rae, don't waste our time with stupid questions. It's obvious what he does."

Maybe, Floyd thought, he could finally impress them with something. "I'm a musician, actually."

"Yeah okay, music boy." Edwin replied without missing a beat. "Is the apron a new fashion accessory I don't know about?" 

Floyd’s mouth hung open (if it ever even stopped hanging). These kids were savage…

[9w1ft]

My friend asked me to listen to You're Losing Me in Karlie's perspective and i just 😭😭😭😭😭 the bridge hits hard.. "Do something, babe, say something, lose something, babe, risk something, choose something, babe, I got nothing, to believe, unless you're choosin' me" imagining Karlie saying this, asking Taylor to speak up for her when the whole karlie hate train by swifties happened.

yes this is how i listen to the song!! there are parts that i think fit taylor singing as well, i think, so i go back and forth, but i definitely hear a lot of karlie within the song.

in terms of timeframe i’m not completely ready to zone in on any particular point but i sort of place it before daylight, within the great war period. i’ve been compiling a list of lyrics that point to it but it might take me a bit to get around to posting it, if i do post about it. so let me post something quick. just understand that it’s like, a rough draft.

this is what clicked for me:

i got nothing to believe unless you’re choosin me // your sense of belief in the good in the world you once believed in me

unless you’re choosin me you’re losing me // i chose you […] i lost you // that was the night i nearly lost you i really thought i lost you

and the line “how long could we be a sad song” seems like something that a muse would say rather than the artist because the artist is the one who chooses the kind of song to write, you know? i just think this all fits the narrative of taylor trying to mask a lot of their story behind sad songs of other narratives and becoming so focused on doing that (tearing down banners) that she may have neglected the hurt she was slowly inflicting

there are so many lyric parallels going on but in particular i see so many lyric parallels to daylight, if anyone wants to give a companion listen. to me it feels like “the truth” of “i’ll tell you the truth but never goodbye” (and indeed the soldier looking up with honor and truth broken and blue) is about karlie finally being honest about how the fake feuding hurts and how she needs taylor to stop before it’s too late. that even if she says she can take it and they both know it’s fake, she now recognizes it’s affecting her. and so daylight is taylor sitting down and writing a truthful song about how she actually feels about karlie “i don’t wanna look at anything else now that i saw you, i don’t wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you” — and maybe midnights and all it’s editions is taylor slowly singing through the songs of these nights and towards this daylight.

[sloppysequinz]

hiii glitz [cool new nickname for you]

i was wondering if you could speak on your writing process? all your stories are so good and as someone who veeery occasionally writes i'm curious how you go about doing it? thanks !

[definitly not drunk-girl shh]

Ok definitely not @drunk-girl! I've been dwelling on this ask for quite a while. I really appreciated the question a lot :) This answer ended up being kind of long so I put it under a read more for courtesy. Also I loooove the nickname glitz <3

So generally my writing process starts with a little seed of an idea. It could be a text post or a photo I see on here, something that happens across my mind while I'm out and about, it could be a suggestion from a friend. Baby's First House Party came from being in a town where I used to go to school and feeling nostalgic about house parties, Step-Mom came from a story with drunken wetting on here that I just found unexpectedly hot, Meet Cute came from memories of when I lived in a place with a screen door that had a view of my whole living room. The idea just has to spark some kind of interest in me. Sometimes I recognize it right away, sometimes it takes a little bit.

Then I usually spend some time fleshing it out, just in my mind. For me, this usually happens right when I'm falling asleep. I tend to daydream about horny stuff in bed anyway, so it kinda comes naturally. I just spend some time figuring out character dynamics, what the "core" scene or scenario I'm getting at, and to be crude, what turns me on. I follow the turn on down the rabbit hole and let it take the wheel. Sometimes I don't realize I have a good idea until I'm lying in bed fantasizing about something I hadn't thought about before. Sometimes I think I have a good idea, but if I cant generate organic fantasies about it, it won't make a good story.

Usually by the time I sit down to write, I have a good idea of what the characters are, the key thing I want to get to, and how I'm going to get there. For characters, I don't necessarily have names, but a general personality and archetype. When I say key "thing", that's usually whatever I find hottest in the imagined scenario that I want to frame in the center. For Step-mom, this was the scene of her drooling on the table and grabbing her own tits while pissing. For Meet Cute, this was Mel staring in awe as Yvette chugged a whole can of beer. For the first Mona and Lacy story, it was Lacy drunkenly begging Mona to drink while calling her mommy. I have a rough idea of how I'm getting those characters to that big scene.

Usually I just sit down and start writing from the beginning, describing the scene as I see it in my head and writing any dialogue I've thought of that seems hot or in character. Sometimes the characters will surprise me and say something I'm not expecting. Sometimes I have enough momentum to just write the whole thing from start to finish and be done, but not usually. Usually I'll write the opening, then I'll just jot down bullet points for the rest of the story. As an example, I pulled this from a draft of a sequel to Meet Cute that I'm still working on:

Yvette's a little forgetful but lets her in

Mel has brought more beer and a bucket of fried chicken

Yvette has two of the 12 beers left and half a pizza

Wants Mel's help to finish the pizza

"Come sit."

Once I have a rough outline of all the events I want to happen, I go back and slowly flesh them out. Depending on how much time I've spent dwelling on the idea, I may take some time here to workshop what works and what doesn't, what's hot and what isn't. Also, sometimes I start with the juice scene I want to get to, then do bullets for both before and after.

Once I've gotten it all written down, I save it as a draft and leave it alone. I come back a day or two later and proofread it. Once I'm done tinkering, I tag it and hit post (sometimes I realize there are typos or mistakes and I'll just edit the post if I have to).

In general though, the strength of my writing comes from the fact that I am a 30 year old woman who writes for my job. My work writing is a very different kind of writing (which makes this a fun break), but all the same, I have a LOT of practice. On top of that, I have multiple academic degrees that required a lot of writing to get. I also love to read and have read a lot of books. My advice if you're looking to get better at writing is just to do a LOT of it, and to read a lot of books. When I first got into intox kink at 21, I couldn't even figure out how to write down my fantasies, and now I just can't stop.

[aceghosts]

WIP Wednesday

Hi everyone! I finally have WIP for this WIP Wednesday, and I was tagged by: @marivenah, @nightbloodbix, @cloudofbutterflies92, @cassietrn, @theelderhazelnut, @socially-awkward-skeleton, and others. (Sorry y'all! I've been tagged quite a few times.)

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @voidika, @bbrocklesnar, @captastra, @captmactavish, @alexxmason, @amalkavian, @direwombat, @strangefable, @carlosoliveiraa, @fourlittleseedlings, @clicheantagonist, and anyone else who wants to do this!

I've mainly been working on my gift for the Resident Evil Valentine Exchange, and it's been a little rough. It's my first time writing a Reader Insert, and it is definitely more difficult than thought, but I'm going to do some major edits. The second draft is always where it starts to come together for me.

However, while I've been working on that, I've also been picking at the fic about the first time Rooney and Yorinobu really get to talk with one another. Here's a little snippet from that, a flashback within the fic:

“Almost done, Shepard,” Elias says, tweaking some of the internal components of their mechanical arm, “Then, you can go to your physical therapy appointment.” Rooney doesn’t respond, not that they ever do. The Arasaka staff learned very quickly that Rooney will not speak unless they need to. And for some, it’s more frustrating. At their last therapy session, their therapist left in tears, begging them to speak, to just say anything. But they couldn’t or more accurately, Rooney wouldn’t. They hear footsteps, someone coming to the doorway. Elias looks up, eyes widening. “Yorinobu-sama!” He exclaims, getting up to bow. “I didn’t know that you were coming to visit.” “Last minute decision,” Yorinobu says, a laissez-faire tone to his voice, “I was curious about the old man’s new project.” Rooney’s eyes meet his, dark brown eyes hidden behind black square glasses. For a few seconds, they hold his stare, unafraid of him. Yet, they’re still the first to look away, returning their gaze to the blank spot on the wall where they’ve been staring throughout this whole appointment. “Don’t mind them!” Elias excuses, shooting Rooney a small glare. “They’re just like that.” “Like what?” Out of the corner of their eye, they catch Elias glancing nervously between them and Yorinobu. “Silent,” He says, honestly, “Sometimes, I think that the security robots are more human than Shepard. Guess that’s probably what makes them a good soldier.”

I've also been taking some screenshots in Cyberpunk too, and I thought I would share some of my favorites. I think I'm gonna post a few; haven't decided on the shippy ones though:

[doukeshi-kun]

what was the creative process behind the inspiration that took you to write stalker!nikolai? you’ve mentioned getting inspiration from haunting adeline, but how did you come up with the rest? it’s extremely well written and the plot is published book worthy 🫶🏻

ooh interesting question! but first of all, thank you sm for the compliment! published book oh my lorddd i really appreciate it! 10 year-old keshi who wanted to be a writer/novelist is very happy🥹🫶

i will admit that i don't open the haunting adeline novel at all while writing part two and three. i barely open it when i'm writing the first part either. mainly because the very scene i was inspired with is just a couple scenes from the whole book (mainly, the mirror maze).

well, as i write the first part of the fic, i never intended it to be a series or trilogy... but people loved it and when i read back that fic, i got some sparkles of idea, you could say...

now, thing is, those ideas aren't definitive. i changed many things. but some themes that i definitely want to keep in the series are the stalking and the chasing or running away part. so that's why, in the first fic, we have nikolai chasing after reader. in the second fic, we have reader chasing after nikolai to stop him from murdering alex. in the last fic, we have both of them running away from the authorities. other important themes also include: nikolai's freedom and all those conversations about morality.

from those themes, i tried to form a plot that could surround them and of course, i make use of the settings i have created in the first fic (circus, funhouse, reader's house, reader's personality and little backstory). i also like to talk and discuss nikolai's personality and his ideal/mindset/way of thinking through my fics. however, i don't intend to have any moral value to be gained from my fics lmao

so yes, to conclude, i came up with the plots based on the first fic, the themes i wanted to keep and the settings i have established from the beginning. i jotted down a rough plotline and what scenes i have in mind. and then i started the first draft and see if i can go somewhere. if good, go on. if bad, delete and redo. also, while i was writing the drafts, i also got ideas to change or add new things—thus the plotline will be edited again and again

wordcount is not one of my concern tbh. i'll finish up my drafts, and just then i total up all the word count and listed all content warnings that i could gather while proofreading it.

but lol, while i was writing the first and second part, i have the word count right at the right bottom. i actually get quite nervous when a scene that's supposed to be mildly short has gained like... fuckin 3k words BECAUSE IT'S A PAIN IN THE ASS TO CHECK IT WITH GRAMMARLY 😭😭😭 so yes that's like one of my not-so-fun moment when writing long fics.

thank you for this question! i actually like it :3

[melliotwrites]

I’m curious, what was the turn around time for TAOPP? The actors are incredibly good at what they do, the fact they’re sight reading chunks of it while trying not to drop to the ground dead from an aneurism from carrying the show so hard is proof enough of this, but the rehearsal time must’ve been short for them to still be on the book for parts.

(This is not a jab at y’all, I fully understand y’all were working with a college theater troupe and this was an assignment. To me it’s more just like watching Michael Phelps walk out to the Olympics with water wings and a bullet wound. The skill is clearly there, I understand the need for precautions, but also I want to know what shot them in the foot.)

That production of The Art of Pleasing Princes was intended to be a staged reading from the get-go!

This isn't always common knowledge outside of new musical/play development, so I definitely don't blame you for not knowing, but a staged reading is a presentation of a new theatrical work where the actors are supposed to be on-book (i.e. with scripts in hand), and minimal blocking/design is given to provide a rough shape of what the draft will look like on its feet. It's very common for new musicals to go through many presentations like this before a single line is memorized because A. it's much easier for writers to make edits when the actors are not memorizing their lines and B. it's a good way to see how the show works onstage without requiring a significant investment of resources to fully produce what is basically a first draft. Adamandi getting a full production right out the gate is very much the exception, not the rule.

Therefore, any parts of the show that were memorized were entirely out of the actors' enthusiasm and drive -- so I agree that they are incredibly good at what they do! On top of learning blocking, memorizing melodies and lyrics, and developing their characters, some of them took it upon themselves to commit parts of the script to memory while being full-time college students majoring in completely different disciplines. It absolutely floored us and we're still impressed with them for it. The actors didn't run out of time to memorize the show- they literally weren't asked to, and sometimes were even discouraged from doing so for the good of the show (e.g. "we blocked this with the script binders, so can you keep them with you even if you both know the scene by heart?")

In terms of rehearsal time, we wanted a long rehearsal process with fewer hours per week to allow our actors to balance their busy academic schedules with acting in our show as an extracurricular. Rehearsals started as soon as this Princes draft was done at the end of winter break of 2022, so we rehearsed from January 2022 to the end of April doing only a few hours a week, split between music and blocking, before ramping up for tech week right before the performances. Overall I'd say we had the same amount of rehearsal hours as a more typical two- to three-week staged reading rehearsal time, but it was much more spaced out because we got started early.

Hope that makes sense!

~Mel

[incognitajones]

still not great

Two weeks later I've only managed to write 2244 new words and reached 31095 words total. To catch up to my target rate, I'd have to write 8000 words by the end of the month. Which is definitely not happening!

There are some valid reasons (houseguests, dealing with visa bureaucracy, etc) for this lack of progress but in the end, it comes down to me still not feeling enthused about this story.

I did realize that one problem is trying to write the new sections to match the quality of the first 20K chunk, which has already been edited several times and no longer qualifies as a rough draft. So I get stuck on small details when I should just be concerned with the broad strokes of the plot. Next week, I'll concentrate on throwing words on the page to describe what's happening and spend less time fussing over their quality.

However, if I still can't build up any momentum/excitement over the next week, I've decided to set this project aside and start working on the idea I'm most excited about instead. The sunk cost of the existing 30K isn't enough motivation to keep me going.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

"i hate [character name] so much! they're clearly the villain! they oppose the actions of [protagonist]! why do people like them so much!"

if this sounds like something you might write, i need you to understand that sometimes, two different people can read the same piece of fiction, and walk away from the experience with two very different interpretations of the text. and neither person is wrong. even if one of those people is the author, actually.

"but [character name] is the antagonist, ray. are you stupid or something? do you know what an antagonist is? we are clearly meant to side with [protagonist] and accept that their experience is the morally correct one. not doing this is an incorrect reading of the text and contrary to authorial intent."

please picture me very tenderly and patiently taking your hands and looking deeply into your eyes. are you picturing it? ok good.

i do not care.

specifically, i do not care about authorial intent unless i have been specifically asked to help a writer clarify their intentions in the text. because once the text is finished and out there on bookshelves or ready to be purchased via your e-reader of choice, the text must speak for itself. if i wasn't meant to find an antagonist character as compelling and sympathetic as i do, then that's a problem for the author to solve in the rough draft of their next work, or a revised edition of the existing work. author commentary on a completed work of fiction is just that: it's commentary. it can be considered when assessing the completed work itself, but it is not part of the completed work. it exists as part of the conversation about the completed work, and carries as much weight in that conversation as any other piece of well-researched analysis out there. and if i find evidence in the text that contradicts what the author is saying in their commentary, well! 🤷‍♀️ looks like that one didn't make it past your editor! the story says what the story says! better luck in your future endeavours etc.

"but how can you dismiss the author's intentions like this? if they say that they meant for us to interpret the events in the text a certain way, shouldn't that matter? even if what they write is different, we should respect what they say they MEANT to write."

i mean, sure, i'll level with you on that point as a writer myself: it sucks when you spend a lot of time on a project and believe you've effectively told one story, only to share it with your beta readers and discover, much to your shock and horror, that you've actually communicated something totally counter to your intentions. it definitely is not a fun experience to have someone tell you, for example, "this antagonist you've written is very compelling, but do you realize you've accidentally written a negative indictment of powerful women because you have so few other women in positions of power in this draft?" that's very much an 'oh shit, i did not mean to do that' kind of moment, but if no one flags this to you before the story goes to print, your intent doesn't matter. you still wrote a story that communicates a message you did not intend for it to communicate. you might be able to revise it in later editions of the story, if you're lucky, but that first edition still stands, and it still says what it says, regardless. your commentary on that character doesn't change the material circumstances of the story.

it's impossible to divorce our biases and baggage entirely from the creative process. we are always going to end up writing things into our stories that we did not intend to place there. those unintentional inclusions in the story, however, are still absolutely part of the story. readers can't conveniently decide to strike those details from the record like they're jurors receiving instructions from a judge during a jury trial, that's not how storytelling works.

the story says what the story says, and sometimes writers are going to create an antagonist that deeply resonates with some of their readers, intentionally or otherwise. and you, either as a writer or someone who can't stand villain stanning, just have to deal with it.

[bellaxgiornata]

This has been the most successful week of writing I've had in a long while, friends! I don't know what's up with my brain this week, but I don't think any of y'all will be complaining about it doing its thing! So far I have unedited rough drafts now complete for:

Safe Haven chapter 17 (Mikey)

Break the Tension part 3 "The Fire" (Matt)

FFTDs "The Recurring Nightmare" (Matt)

Neighbors Prologue (Frank)

I still need to work on editing before I share it, but Break the Tension will be the fic I update next. Though I might share the prologue for the Frank fic if I have time this week, too, because it's shorter. I'm thinking I'll try to hold onto a few of these until I get more rough drafts written because getting moments of free time soon will be scarce for me for a bit (my MIL often watches my son to give my husband and I a bit of a break and she's going to be gone for 5 whole weeks soon).

I'm still working on finishing The Devil at Your Window's next part "Borrowed Scarf" that is almost finished, which is what I'm thinking I'll finish next (hopefully). But there are definitely lots of updates coming!