#which often includes... not writing

[chen-chen-chen-again-chen]

Six Something? Sunday

Hello hello hello!! Thank you for the Sunday tags, @onepintobean, @johnwgrey, @fatalfangirl, @forabeatofadrum, and @artsyunderstudy!

I don't have sentences, but I do have a thing for Jelly Babies, my Swithin/OMC (Swegory) fic which keeps growing tentacles and tails:

[ID: Grimm Family Tier List (GREGORY'S {troll emoji} RANKINGS)

S Tier - {Unicorn emoji} Swithin (duh the S is right in his name)

A Tier - {Vampire man emoji} Baz (Simon's bf, good egg)

A Tier - {Rose emoji} Daphne (keeps offering me food) (Note: yes, Daphne's emoji is a rose because of Billie Piper)

B Tier - {Cookie emoji} Tyr (great baker, nice, will probs move up to A tier)

C Tier - {Vampire woman emoji} Mordelia (scary, always on her mobile)

D Tier - {Joker emoji} Sophie (chaos demon, likes taking the piss out of me)

F Tier - {Horse emoji} Swithin's dad Malcolm (Is this too mean????)

Hello tags, and a blather about productivity & rest under the cut!

I want to say a huge thank you to every kind human who sent me their blessings and good wishes for a restful Sunday. It’s been a weekend full of R&R over in this here lazaretto (as my spouse and I call our haunted house), filled with good pizza, daytime naps, luxurious head scritches, and cackling over the anime My Next Life as a Villainess (which is hysterical. Everybody’s gay for the protagonist. Everybody).

I wrote a lot of Jelly Babies at what is (for me) a truly insane place, churning out the first 6-7 chaps in a weekend because I could not. Stop. Thinking about it. This was followed by three days where I was put on a steroid, Prednisone, for a post-COVID ear infection, and it made me VERY ENERGETIC and VERY UNFILTERED (good for writing Gregory, in other words), and I felt a lot like that gif of the cat smashing at the keyboard.

Then the slump hit, as it invariably does! I do truly feel incredibly blessed when my trio of the DMC (the Daemon, Muses, and Creativity) take over and I can write and write and write. But I know enough now about that process to brace for the impact when the DMC leave and I am just a human again, left to tend to my fleshy body and to learn how to walk again when before I was able to fly.

Writing and posting Jelly Babies is a huge push out of my comfort zone, which is good for me. It's so funny to me now, looking back on this post about Why I don't usually post WIPs. "The tears of Mummers House" was such a good exercise in posting a WIP, but that was like wading in a kiddie pool whereas now, with Jelly Babies, I feel like I have firmly pushed myself into the deep end (in the good way). Bless COC and every human (looking at you, @sailorblossoms) who has been an inspiration for just making the work, putting it out there, and Having Fun With It.

I really struggled with whether to take a break from posting today. Part of my brain was like "But my family is STARVING, I have to FEED them" and a much more sensible part was like, "Every single person reading this story would wrap you up in blankets and tell you to take a nap." So again, thank you for being wonderful, and I'm so excited to return with more sweet baby gays tomorrow! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Pressure-free hello tags, and I hope y'all have a restful Sunday: @bookish-bogwitch, @captain-aralias, @cutestkilla, @excalisbury, @facewithoutheart, @hushed-chorus, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @larkral, @martsonmars, @moodandmist, @nightimedreamersworld, @raenestee, @sailorblossoms @thewholelemon, @whogaveyoupermission, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[selfshipseaside]

Happy Black History Month Self-shippers!

To all of the black self-shippers in this community, you are wonderful, cherished, loved, and adored by your f/os! Black self-shippers will always and have always belonged in this community! Just know that your f/os will always be supportive of you, and they will always love you! To non-black self-shippers, make sure to do your own research on this month and uplift black self-shippers! Don't be invasive with questions, do amplify their voices, and don't be weird. And remember, black self-shippers exist always, and your support of them shouldn't stop after this month is over. Let's spread the word about this month of celebration everyone!

[becauseplot]

Nightmare of Nightmares

a tiny Roommates/Cellmates AU fic to take a break from writing Prime Meridian and bc im thinking abt them. takes place mmmm definitely within a few months of the events of Shared Living Space. Cell is just starting to become a more-or-less 'common' fixture in Felps' apartment, staying for as long as two days at a time before heading out again. he spends a majority of his time out doing...whatever it is he does when he's not at Felps' apartment. it's not uncommon for Felps to see Cell show up at odd hours with a new bruise or bandage wrapped somewhere, and sometimes Cell walks in with a grin that's just a bit too wide, even for him. Felps tries not to think about it too much.

(TWs: nothing really? there's some vague descriptions of violence that aren't that graphic save for like one well-detailed threat. it's brief tho. and references/allusions to cannibalism because obviously.)

It's the middle of the day on a lazy Sunday, and Cell has been tossing and turning on the couch for the past several minutes. He’s not typically a restless sleeper—quite the opposite, actually—so it’s strange for Felps to see him shifting around, restlessly tilting his head side to side.

Felps figures he must be dreaming, or something like it. What does someone like Cell dream about, anyway? Probably eating Felps, or putting Felps' head on a pike. Or eating Felps and putting his head on a pike. Or just murdering people in general. He must get a real kick out of that. Felps shrugs it off and continues working, reclined in the armchair and sorting through his email. Whatever Cell is dreaming about will pass eventually.

And then he whines.

Felps pauses and blinks for several seconds, processing that yes, there was a noise, yes, it was a whine, and yes it most certainly came from Cell. Felps glances up from his laptop again to look at the known murderer sleeping his couch. He's still shifting around, perhaps a little more animatedly than before. He settles for a moment, and Felps can see his eyelids twitching. Another half-whine, half-groan wheedles out of his throat. His lips move, barely parted, but whatever Cell might've said is much too soft for Felps to hear, if he said anything at all.

A few seconds pass. Then, Cell's face briefly twists, his lips moving again; and though it's still hard to decipher, Felps isn't certain that it's actual words that he's speaking. His chest heaves a few times, he makes another small noise, and he murmurs something again—no. Those...sound like they could be words. Garbled, but words nonetheless. Not Portuguese, though. It might be another language. (Cell speaks some English, doesn't he?) Or maybe it is just gibberish, Felps really can't tell; but whatever it is, it sounds urgent. Very urgent. And Cell is starting to breathe harder.

Huh. Felps starts to consider trying to wake him up before he shoots that thought down immediately. Why even bother? And he knows for a fact that Cell sleeps with a weapon under his arm—Felps can see it now, a small blade revealed in all of his tossing—and Felps doesn't want to wind up on the wrong end of it if Cell wakes up swinging.

Still, Felps' email has become an afterthought at this point. Felps watches, almost amazed, as Cell continues to toss more violently than before, breathing harder to the point of gasping, voice high and reaching and cracking and begging—

A shout. Cell's eyes fly open as he shoots up and yep there goes the knife arcing through open air. He's got a hand braced on the side of the couch as he bares his teeth at some middle distance, panting like he's just sprinted several miles. There's a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his face. Cell is sporting a furious expression so tense and wild that Felps—if he didn't know any better—would say pitches over to the other end of the curve and lands somewhere in the realm of terrified.

Cell, the murderer, the cannibal, the nightmare of so many people's dreams, just woke up screaming from a nightmare. It's almost novel, but Felps supposes that Cell is still just a human. And humans, people, get nightmares. Basic psychology. Though, it's hard to imagine Cell to be really, truly afraid of anything in particular aside from, possibly, getting caught by the police and being hauled back to Alcatraz. (Once in Alcatraz, he would end up spending quite the stint in solitary—one of the only things they found that could actually get Cell to behave, if only for a little while.)

A beat passes. Cell's eyes dart frantically, but it doesn't look like he's really seeing anything. He's still gasping. His legs have kicked away the towel Felps makes him put his feet on when he's sleeping, instead digging the heels of his boots into the cushions and pushing himself back against the arm of the couch, knife still in hand.

Felps hasn't exactly woken up fighting before, but he's had his fair share of nightmares. He knows how disorienting they can be. Best not to have the guy with the weapon and the horribly violent impulses forget where he is. Felps clears his throat. "Hey Cell."

Cell snaps his head towards Felps. He blinks several times. He stars at Felps, and he looks around the room...

...And his breathing starts to slow. And his shoulders start to slump. And the fury-terror starts to melt away. And the hand brandishing his knife drops into his lap.

And Cell is quiet. No threats, no growl. He just stares at the floor and drags a hand down his sweat-soaked face and breathes—something like relief. It's eerie, coming from Cell, and Felps, frankly, doesn't know what to make of it.

"So," Felps says. "The Monster of Alcatraz gets nightmares, huh?"

A beat. Then, Cell scoffs at him. "Inspiration," he snarls, voice dripping with venom despite his breathlessness and sleepy croak. "For when I carve out your guts and drag your entrails across the floor, Felps."

Felps raises an eyebrow. "You know, you could just tell me you want to be left alone."

"Fuck off."

"See, there we go." Felps closes his laptop and glances at the clock on the wall: just past twelve. "Eh, actually, before I do that—are you planning on staying for lunch?"

Cell makes a vague noise. He runs his free hand through his messy hair and scrubs one of his eyes with the heel of his palm. He sighs heavily, like a half-aborted yawn.

"...Yeah," he eventually decides.

"Did you bring me anything?"

Felps knows he did. Felps won't make him anything if he doesn't pitch in somehow—one of their new 'rules'—and Cell's backpack is looking a little more full than usual. In lieu of an answer, Cell picks up his bag from where it's slumped against the foot of couch and drags it into his lap, rummaging through it. Felps, meanwhile, stands, dumps his laptop on the armchair, stretches, and grabs the TV remote. A moment later, Cell produces a small paper bag and holds it out to Felps.

Felps crosses the living room and peeks inside: tomatoes and lettuce, in decent enough condition. Felps has certainly used worse. He could add in some of his carrots, chop them up, put some dressing over it and make it a salad. Rice and some seasoned meat (chicken—no red meat allowed when Cell is present) to go with it could be nice.

"This works." Felps grabs the bag. Cell lets him have it, and Felps tosses him the remote. "Your pick. And either fix the towel or boots off the couch."

Cell huffs, but he swings his legs around without protest, boots on the floor. As he flicks through channels, Felps brings the produce into the kitchen and opens up the fridge. He pushes aside his own tomatoes and lettuce to get to the carrots.

Sometime later, Felps finishes putting together lunch and brings a couple plates into the living room. There, he finds Cell curled up on his side, fast asleep yet again—no tossing or turning this time, though. Just sleeping.

Felps rolls his eyes with a sigh. He puts the extra portion down on the coffee table, lowers the volume on the TV just a bit, heads back into the kitchen, and returns with a cover for the plate.

(A nightmare having a nightmare. What could Cell be so scared of?)

(Well, whatever it is, Felps hopes he never has to meet it.)

[aphverse-confessions]

i find people who include fantasy racism, sexism and homophobia in their rewrites for ‘added drama’ and ‘issues’ are extremely unoriginal and lacking creativity. if your go to conflict is always fascism just because you have no creativity to try and come up with anything else besides what you know and is obviously ingrained in your brain, you should sit down and think why your go to awnser is always fascism.

.

[player1064]

i binged like ten of ur drabble chapters and can I just say I love how u write carraville, especially gary! but jamie too, I love how they talk like proper british men, lol. its awesome!!!

thank yooouuuu!! honestly I'm glad people like the way I write them talking bc I am a horrible londoner (and a posh one too) and always worry I'm being Too mean the way I write their accents but also. I LOVE writing their accents so I will Not stop

[anneapocalypse]

So much about the way the Inquisitor is written and voiced makes a lot more sense when you remember that they were originally going to be limited to a human from a noble family and the other backgrounds were only added later. From the Inquisitor's sort of muted, milquetoast personality to the limited reactions to certain things and people, it makes perfect sense if you assume that like 80% of that dialogue was written for a human noble character.

Like Hawke has a much more lively personality than the Inquisitor but a lot of Hawke's dialogue options would still feel very strange and confined if you tried to apply them to an elf, a dwarf, or a qunari, you dig me.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

there's a certain quality the harmonies of like... early to mid 2000s alt rock has. which i am obsessed with... like i wanna do that. i NEED to figure out how to write harmonies that sound like that

[stinkrascal]

pick 8 pictures from pinterest for standstill!! (a moodboard)

heyyy so im actually really awful at moodboards but i do save pictures of things that inspire standstill so heres some of those! sorry they arent like aesthetically cohesive. standstill talks about a lot of different themes all neatly tied together w the thin thread of a romance plot so sometimes it's hard to describe those in a way that feels coherent, even in picture form. hopefully u get the idea though 👍

[victorian-nymph]

Sometimes I will go on tiktok and I see a slideshow like "Star Wars men >>>>>>>>>>" and I think hell yeah they have some truly beautiful men in the originals, prequels, sequels and spin-off shows, and then I'll scroll through we have the standard Anakin, Obi Wan, Din Djarin, Poe, and I think yeah baby, and then I am jUMPSCARED by kylo ren being there. And then I want to throw OP off a bridge. Take him OFF that slideshow immediately he doesn't deserve to be amongst the ranks of men that I would let do some truly depraved things to me.

[rivilu]

Final (re)designs for the BOYS (until I inevitably decide to change something superficial like Orion's vallaslin color or something again. Give it a week ghjgyhfjy)

[daydadahlias]

you’re getting a psych major and two minors

when do you sleep? O.o

omg great question!! i dont <3

[gendercriticalthinking]

The way that my friend felt disappointed when he found out as a kid that an androgynous character he idolized was a woman because he quote "couldn't relate to the character anymore" and the way that the creator of Celeste """discovered he was non-binary""" because he wrote a female character that he was able to relate to are branches off of the same vein of misogyny I think

[vacantgodling]

every day writeblr invents discourse about things that are not that deep

[stewyhosseini-bf]

You know what I love. Is that in most fics written after the s2 finale but before s3 came out, whenever Kendall and Stewy meet again it’s always Stewy being super pissed off at him for not telling him beforehand and making a total surprise move and Kendall being apologetic and kind of closed off and then in the actual show Stewy sends him a wooden horse and then when Kendall goes to apologize for not clueing him in, goes well it’s fine I got a ticket to the greatest freak show on earth :))) <3 while they both grin at each other

[dmclemblems]

dimitri literally is completely suicidal in this game right to the end

is nobody going to actually help this man i mean he literally just said there is nobody he more desires to end than himself and then says he must thank their adversary for letting him kill a phantom of himself

like

is nobody going to help him

not even after this being one of many instances of him being utterly suicidal

i mean he’s very vocal about it

is nobody... gonna... help him...

[room215]

don’t really know how to articulate this but learning that so many people disliked lyse in stormblood for being so headstrong coming off of the heels of the expansion with fucking estinien in it makes me feel an unreasonable amount of rage