Finally getting back into writing my novel.... Granted not the same novel I tried writing when I started this account but maybe I'll actually get through with writing the first draft of this one. I'm really excited about it

reading a lotta manga while I'm in a "can't fucking write" phase is kinda comforting tho like...it's ok I'm gathering nuts for winter 👍

I got 3 fics that I'm working on (they're nowhere near done ngl) but I'm already feeling anxious anticipating how I'm gonna go about asking someone to beta read them for me, like how do you approach someone with that intention?? How do you know someone's available for that?

So instead of sliding into people's DMs I'm just gonna leave this here in hopes that there's someone out there in the InuFandom willing to reach out lol I'll leave more info in the tags!!

idk why i think i can be an artist for a career when i can barely get myself to do it in my free time *curls up and dies*

sometimes i entertain the thought of like. everything ending up okay and then i get even more scared and anxious and idk why

me a couple days ago: oooooh i love this whumptober prompt for the 9th i'll do such an elaborate thing oooooh

me on the 9th: why does drawing involve drawing

every once in a while I remember this scene from Moulin & it kills me. FECing is now a regular part of my vocabulary & no one even knows what it means because I'm a chronic doesn't-public-fics dumbass. FEC me

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Majima Goro & Sagawa Tsukasa Characters: Majima Goro, Sagawa Tsukasa Additional Tags: Genderfluid Majima Goro, Mentioned Saejima Taiga, he's not here though, majima gets dress coded (devastating), Solitary Confinement, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, yeah this one's not pretty sorry guys, Homophobia, Mental Breakdown, thinking about sagawa's sparrow thinking about sagawa's sparrow thinking about sagawa's sparrow th, featuring an oc: majima's shitty unnamed landlord, Abuse, look i don't know how to classify it in particular but it's. Not Good. You Know How It Is With Them, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, in a very traditional sense like. the warnings are no joke, Hurt/Comfort, In The Worst Way Possible, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, ooh yeah forgot those tags exist. need those for sure, THE PLOT CAN ALSO BE DESCRIBED AS FIVE NIGHTS AT MAJIMA'S PLUS BONUS NIGHTS, also majima accidentally almost gives himself a gay earring situation, which. in hindsight is not explained well, basically around that time gay men used to wear an earring on their right ear, to signal that they were gay. majima's is on his left he's just scared, and sagawa is either messing with him or an old fart who doesn't know hip gay things, take your pick, Relationship Study, Canon-Typical Violence

Summary:

"Woaahh, hold up there, Tiger. What's going on here?" Sagawa said. "What?" Sagawa reached for his face. Majima tensed up as Sagawa's hand brushed the taut cord of his eyepatch. He couldn't tell what he was doing until his hot, sweaty fingers pinched his earlobe. "You pierce this yourself?" "Yeah." "God, it looks awful."

or, in short, majima gets dress coded and sent to gay baby jail

HEY I UH. I MADE A FIC IF YOU GUYS WANNA READ IT. NO PRESSURE OBVIOUSLY

can it be called lazy breakfast if its 1pm and i have been awake for 12 hours orrrrr

must a fic "have plot progression" and "a pont"? is it not enough to simply have two guys talk about their feelings alongside a narrator prone to rambling for *checks notes* 6 pages and counting?

Last lines of a fic my beloathed

oh while i'm logged in for once i figure i should tell the tumblr followers . i had a Rough lesbian week of visibility. sort of. by that i mean i like cried like a baby over every post i saw for it and i was like gee, why! i'm not even a lesbian! i'm just bi with a preference for women!

well i thought hard abt it and i have previously wondered if i'm a lesbian before and i was like. no surely not! i had a terrible crush on a boy when i was 13! i think boys are cute sometimes! but

upon further and serious thought i was like. i cannot imagine loving a man as much as i have loved the girls/nb people in my life like. never ever. there's just no way. i MEAN...ok maybe it's possible but i think abt being with a man on any intimate level and get kind of sick to my stomach now so i was like. ok! i was hung up over my Past History Of Liking Boys but when i think abt present day and future i just genuinely. do not want to date a man . i'm not gonna pretend i know what the future holds so who knows maybe there's some great guy out there but actually thinking about that makes me LOWKEY NAUSEOUS so. all of this to say i think i am a lesbian now <3 woohoo 🥳

i am still suffering from some lesbian imposter syndrome hardcore but at the same time i feel like??? freer...and like i can love more authentically, so it's also really exciting and i just want to talk about it everywhere <3

Hella I feel like your going to be an accomplished author one day like really famous and all that fun stuff. And if you publish a book with your real name and not "hella 1975" and tell your cult about it, (which if you dont tell your cult about it well be able to google your book with all the things your telling us about it) and well be able to find your real identity and youll have a bunch of blogs and twitter things dedicated to your book and there will people commenting things like "the real ones have been here since toab" and youll get a bunch of dms harrassing you about lanse and kanut goldbloom in like ten years. And its going to be absolutely hilarious. You wont be able to get away from us, Youve done this to yourself.

By the way i mean this all in the most non creepy way i can put it.

THIS IS MY WORST FUCKING NIGHTMARE GOD I HATE YOU GUYS SKDJGHKJHGKJSHG

Came up for the best way to end a fanfic about Hater and Peepers getting together

They say half the universe cheered when Lord Hater was permanently taken off the market. The fairer half. Although anyone who said that around either him or his husband would swifty get shot.

Edit: Apparently this is my last post of the day so look at the first half I posted

One of the funnest things about getting back into a fandom is seeing the fics you started but didn’t finish and going “??? I wrote this?”

c!Tubbo post-revengers pseudo-poetry thing

in honour of attest getting a bunch of love, i give you this: something similar but not quite as good.

A pink tulip wilts on the shelf

Tubbo will never forget the moment he saw Technoblade approaching his base in Snowchester. At first he was filled with anxiety, wondering what Techno had come to him for, especially considering their previous interactions.

And still, Tubbo wasn't wrong. Techno always has and always will be the bringer of bad news.

He handed Tubbo the picture and told him of the events that had just recently passed not even an hour ago, and while before Tubbo had always thought the sensation of the earth crumbling around him was nothing but a hyperbole, he was now made fully aware that it was, in fact something real.

It wasn't the kind of crumble that shook the ground beneath your feet– no, it was the kind that chipped away at you piece by piece, breaking you down until it could reach your core and shatter that in one go. It was the kind of crumble that left you vulnerable, with nothing more in your life to live for, willing to succumb to any request death gave you.

The pink tulip is wilting on his shelf.

From the moment Tubbo met Ranboo's ghostly counterpart, he knew that he would never really get over Ranboo's death.

Ghostboo- as the spirit liked to refer to himself as- was nothing but a physical manifestation of a melancholic reminder of what Ranboo he was. He was nothing to Tubbo but a reminder that his partner was dead.

Ranboo's ghost was nice, sure, but everything about him was annoying to Tubbo. His tone, the way he spoke, the way he flaunted his death and how peaceful it was, how happy he was to be dead because anything was better than life, because Tubbo had made Ranboo's life so unbearable that being dead was better than being with him.

And now the pink tulip is wilted on the shelf.

Tubbo lays in bed, staring at the empty room around him. He's in their mansion– though it feels like more of a grave than anything, a placeholder for the potential of what his relationship with Ranboo could have been.

The halls are haunted by Ranboo's ghost; by Tubbo's optimism for the future; by the laughter of them and their son. If Tubbo stops breathing for a moment and drown out the sound of his broken heart beating, he can faintly hear the sound of burned memories in the distance– conversations from expired lifetimes.

So Tubbo pulls Michael closer and clings onto him as if letting him go would cause his life to slip away as well. Fragile was all Tubbo felt these days, fragile as if one touch too harsh would break him, as if his heart was made of glass and his skin of clay.

And there are dried tulip petals beneath his covers.