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daineic-art · 7 months

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-taps mic- Is this thing on?

Okay uh

Hi everyone!

It’s been a… long time since I’ve been actually active, hasn’t it? Well- I have a few explanations if you’d like to sit down and hear them.

To make a really long story short, I fell out of love with SSO. The game was not fun for me anymore and I found no joy in it due to multiple reasons. My own general drama moments, there were multiple things the company did, different things I got into, etc.

The biggest thing (now don't laugh I know how stupid this sounds in relation to Star Stable) was trauma. Yes, trauma. When you've been groomed using a game you've loved since you were 9 years old… you kind of stop playing that game. I resented this game for literal years due to trauma and SSO didn't help themselves by making some dumb decisions. But I was also a kid with trauma I didn't know how to handle. I can't even pinpoint exactly when everything happened, but I know it was around my mid-teens, and has been years since. I have done a lot of soul-searching and development since then because, wow, people can change! Some developments include; I started going to college, didn't like it, and I dropped out. I quit my very awful retail job and got something more akin to my field of study. Then finally, probably the most important one, I got out of an abusive relationship that I got into due to desperation. I'm in a new one with someone I genuinely care about and, frankly, want to spend the rest of my life with. It's insane how one person can open up your eyes so much and help you truly heal and change.

And because of that… I want to say sorry to those I might have hurt when I was still young and hurting. I know trauma isn't always an excuse but when it's all you know and you don't know how to control those feelings you are extremely volatile. I'm sorry to the friends I pushed away, I understand why you left. I'm sorry to the friends who stuck around and had to help me but I am also thankful for you. I'm also thankful to my audience who probably has 0 clue what I'm even talking about! I'm also sorry to those who had to witness my crippling hyper-fixation on You-Know-Who. I promise I'm over that LOL (while I still might draw That Specific Man, I am no longer mentally ill about him)

But why am I talking about this? Why all this deep conversation over a game where you ride around on a horse? Because I want to set my own record straight for myself and I want to start with a clean slate. This might involve a blog name change, maybe even a blog cleanse. But it starts here, with this post. And I'm really hoping this is the start to something better. I won't be posting right away as I want to get my own lore in order but I figured putting something into the world announcing my return (or that at least I've dropped my malice for the game) would be a good start.

I hope yall stick around! Lots of love from Sam 🦌🌿💚

#sso #star stable #star stable online

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momolady · 2 years

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This isn’t relevant to the ask meme but I wanted to get an opinion on running a writing blog. I’ve got one now for almost three years 😳 and I want to tackle writing with original characters. But I’m worried about not being able to do it well (?) or writing a character for a “longer” story. Some of your stories have multi parts do you feel compelled to write it all in one go to not “lose the feel” or just come back to it and can write out the character seamlessly?

I will say that practice is a huge part of it. I've done it over and over and over so many times, I feel I've been able to get my own feel for it. When I do multiple parts, I usually do them at once. But over time, I have done more parts after a long period of time. And what i do there is study. I study the previous story or stories. I take small notes to make sure I get small things I did before.

And yes! I've been writing short stories for so long that I have a hard time doing long works now! So if you figure that part out, let me know lol.

Also, if you feel a need, get a notebook and fill it with notes about your characters. I do that when I'm getting ready to write something. I use stationary all the time. Make use of it!

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franzsiska · 3 years

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ao3 interview

tagged by: @cyanoscarlet thank you, dani 🥰💕

how many works do you have on ao3?

— 18.

what’s your total ao3 word count?

— 39.2k, haha. I mostly write short one shots, and quite a bit of my work has been exclusive to twt/tumblr and zines, so that's why.

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

— three.

bungou stray dogs (10)

haikyuu!! (5)

jujutsu kaisen (3)

as you can see, i am. very picky about what fandoms and what subject matters i write about sfhskdk

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

emptiness to melody (bsd; kunikidazai)

this brief tragedy of flesh (jjk; nanago)

let me tell you a story about love (haikyuu; miya atsumu character study)

you are what happens after the war (bsd; kunikidazai)

leave the ruins where they fall (bsd; soukoku)

what are your top 5 fics by comment thread count?

love me just a little longer (bsd; odazai)

you are what happens after the war (bsd; kkdz)

this brief tragedy of flesh (jjk; nng)

salt/water (haikyuu; iwaoi)

emptiness to melody (bsd; kkdz)

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

— yes, absolutely, although it might take me absurdly long to get around to it lol. unless it's a comment that doesn't warrant a reply, i do make it a point to reply to all of them eventually.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

— ahh, this one is complicated. i love angst actually, but only of a very specific brand. my fics aren't so much angsty in ending as they are just. pervaded with a sense of sadness throughout—fluff coloured with angst, as i like to call it. pick up literally any fic of mine, there's always angst interwoven throughout.

that said, i did once write a fic (without you) that ended in major character death and it disturbed me so much that i ended up orphaning it lmao

have you ever received hate on a fic?

— no, thankfully, not as of now. that might be attributed to the fact that my body of work itself is not very big, but i like to think that i attract a more civilized demographic with my fics 😉

do you write smut? If so, what kind?

— no. never have i tried and never will i ever try, i think. the most i can do is make out and fade to black. i don't actually have any interest in writing the nitty gritty details, thank you very much.

have you ever had a fic translated?

— uhhh, yes, i think. i've been asked for permission multiple times but have only got back the completed link from the translator once or twice. this here, for instance, is a tumblr askbox fic that got translated into chinese.

have you ever co-written a fic before?

— no, but i'm open to the idea! it just has to be with someone whose style and ideas i click with.

what’s your all-time favorite ship?

— ahaha, this is hard. it keeps changing but iwaoi seem to have passed the test of time <3

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

— ouch, okay. there is more than one. that one dazai-centric skk wip that's been lying in my drafts for almost an year now. it's a study into dazai's relationship with food and with the needs of his body in general (read: his very thinly-veiled eating disorder). i really fucking want to complete this, but it isn't looking likely at the moment :'(

what are your writing weaknesses?

— longform, multichapter fics, definitely. i cannot, for the life of me, plot out a proper three act structure with a subplot and a climax and all. i really wish i could, and i greatly respect the people who can :')

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

— only if it fits the situation. otherwise it just ends up looking pretentious and pedantic. i used a couple of spanish dialogues in salt/water as well as my iwaoi zine fic, for instance, bc they're both post timeskip and set in argentina

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

— bsd! that was two years ago, and i'm so grateful to my hyperfixation sdfshfk

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

— a tie between you are what happens after the war (bsd) and with your face towards the sky (haikyuu; kagehina)

tagging: @wctercress @awinterborn @my-one-true-l (only if you want, ofc)

#ao3 writer interview #tag games

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the-art-of-styles · 3 years

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Ping-Pong

✧ Harry’s a foster kid who always seem to get abandoned until this particular family stays with him, but he can’t seem to trust them. Aylin, the girl across the street, talks too much and her parents fight a lot more. Both of them want to just get out of their houses, and playing ping-pong on the town’s fair brings them together for years.

Word count: 2144

Warnings: — (for now)

Part I (you’re here!)

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

A/N: hi ! this will be a short story so there will be multiple parts, obviously lol. there will be a number on the beginning of each chapter which means what age they are. I know the description makes it seem a bit boring but honestly is fluff and stuff like that :) hope u like it

Harry's head vibrated as he was leaning against the window while the car seemed to be cruising through sky, sea, and land, fighting storms and a giant monster when in truth they were just passing a dirt road.

Lilian, who was sitting co-pilot, looked back with fireworks exploding in her eyes every time she saw Harry, while Dev squeezed his wife hand tightly, her cheeks burning from the prominent smile that adorned her lips, which has remained intact since they left the place where the foster kids wait for someone to take pity on them and take them home. A real home.

On the other hand, the emotion was the least throbbing in the being of the boy, because he has already lived this process twice, three counting now and he knows that it will end in dissolving the existing family—the family by blood and then later go back to the orphanage and repeat the same process over and over and over again.

Well that's what he thinks. How could he not? The two families who took him in threw him out again like a stranded dog in search of the warmth of real love. So no, Harry doesn't want to allow himself to get excited and think that maybe they will keep him (yes, as an object) and that maybe they will love him and that maybe he will love them and that maybe Lilian will make him cookies with a glass of milk when he feels bad or that maybe Dev would teach him to cook or do his homework and that maybe everything will be fine.

"We have a lemon pie waiting for you at home, we — we don't know if you like it, I hope you like it, we prepared it with a lot of love for you, Harry."

"We prepared?" Dev laughed and Lilian rolled her eyes in amusement. "It would sound better if you say that I prepared, don't you think?" He looked in the mirror at Harry. "Champ, the kitchen almost burned down! Doing a lemon pie! Can you believe it?"

The curly-headed simply looked directly at Dev in the rearview mirror and tried to smile at him, which did not work and managed to slowly hide his prominent smile, Lilian giving him another firm grip on his hand and smiling at him with sorrow because deep down they both know that Harry isn't going to trust them just like that. He has felt used, but he also think he's useless, people have abandoned him, he doesn't have parents or a real family, so they understand.

And they will wait for him to open up, because having a child on their own was something that, unfortunately, they could not fulfill.

Aylin's small hands covered both of her ears as she hid under the covers, without first making sure to close the door to her room. Her eyes were tight and a melody came from her lips that she sang every time this happened; but even so, the screams and loud words coming from the floor below her were not drowned out and managed to enter her brain.

It has been a full two weeks now where breakfast, lunch, and dinner were a big plate of arguments from her parents. Now, apparently, it also came in snacks.

Another sound was added to her brain, they were more murmurs and an engine being turned off, although the murmurs were not from her incredibly angry parents, but from some who were calm and trying to gain the trust of a new family member.

Curious as always, like a monkey hanging from a tree, she got out of it (that is, her bed) and went to the window where her big eyes filmed a new scene that she had never seen before: the Evans were getting out of their car with a boy in a black joggers and jumper, dirty sneakers, and a hat. Aylin's mouth parted slightly, surprised that the Evans had never mentioned a cousin or that they had a godson.

She doesn't know how long she was watching them, but she was fed up because now the only staging was the house across the street and the car parked outside was already inside the tiny garage.

Even her parents' screaming stopped, so she supposed that the hands of the clock turned the clock several times in a row and extremely fast; speed of light, up to.

Suddenly, her eyes caught how the same boy from a while ago came out and closed the front door ever so softly, squeezing his eyes a little as there was no longer any open space between the frame and the wood, placing a hand on his chest and releasing all the air in his lungs. Then, he put on the hood that came with his jumper and started walking. Aylin, with a smile on her lips, ran down the stairs and also left, obnoxious about the fact that her parents don't even care where their thirteen-year-old daughter will go alone, but that was already typical.

The truth is that lately she has been feeling lonely, her house no longer feels like home and love was not a prominent thing in her heart, so the opportunity to be with someone who is probably her own age coming at a silver tray for her is something she cannot throw away, so jogging and running short of breath to reach the boy, Aylin yelled:

"Hey! Wait! You! Wait – please!"

Harry stopped walking and turning his torso a few degrees and pulling his hood off, he made eye contact with Aylin, who was still jogging with one hand outstretched in a 'stop please I'm dying' sign.

"Um. . ." he started looking behind her in case Lilian or Dev sent the stranger after him. "Do you need help or. . .?"

"You arrived with the Evans, didn't you?"

"Er, yes."

"Are you their godson? Cousin? They never told me about a cousin," Aylin said the last more to herself, pursing her lips.

"Um. . . I'm—" Harry debated whether to admit that he was taken in from an orphanage or that he was a cousin — a godson, whatever. He thought that, thanks to past experiences, they will get rid of him in about three weeks, or a month, or even less, so: "I'm a. . . godson. Yes. That's what I am."

"Oh, cool!" It wasn't. Aylin's illusions of having a new friend were crushed like an ant walking through a crowd, because if he was a godson then he wouldn't stay that long, anyway, it doesn't hurt to befriend him in the time that remains. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. I wanted to walk— "

"Cool! Let's walk together. I'm Aylin. What's your name? There's this really cool fair at the center of the town, it has a loooot of cool games and cool stuff! Let's go there!"

". . . alone." Harry's word was lost with the wind as Aylin wasted no time in entwining her arm with his to pull him and walk with him while smiling from ear to ear for her new friend; on the other hand, Harry grumbled and what he wanted the most was to have duct tape to place it on the girl's mouth, she never stopped talking!

". . . And so the teacher farted and everyone laughed and— look! We arrived!"

The two (still with arms intertwined) were standing in front of the start of the fair: lots of people, perhaps everyone who lives here in this small town came and went, children with cotton candy or candied apples, teenagers joking with their friends and parents waiting for the adrenaline rush in their children's bodies to relax. Immediately one could see the great white ferris wheel, the biggest game of all.

"There are so many games!" Aylin kept talking as the two of them walked through the crowd. Harry must admit that his mood improved a bit when he saw all the attractions and happy faces and the smell of candy, but he stopped short when he saw an unoccupied ping-pong table, when she noticed this, she looked at the boy and smiled. "You like ping-pong, huh?" He nodded. "Me too! Let's play!"

And so now the two of them were at either end of the table, paddle in hand, Aylin the black one and Harry the red one, the latter holding the white ball in his left hand, his tongue peeking out the side of his lips as he concentrated to make a good shot.

Although it's hard to concentrate when she keeps talking, and talking, and talking.

Some say it's a quality, others say it's irritating, but she can't help it, her tongue is never in a knot and words always roll down from it as easily as if they were made of butter. Aylin knows well how talkative she is, and there are times when she hates such quality because she does not know when to stop talking, and sometimes, inadvertently, she begins to talk about personal problems. . . like now.

They were both quite good at playing ping-pong, their wrists moved with fluidity and a technique that was not naive at all, the harmony of the game rarely was cut off and the ball rolled on the floor where one of the two had to come out chasing after it like an idiot.

"My parents have been arguing a lot lately. I mean, they always argue but now it's like a lot, everyday. Last night," ping–, "I heard them saying some things. I think my dad is with. . . you know. . . another woman,"–pong.

"They will probably divorce. I've seen it. . . in movies! Yeah. . . movies."

Aylin stopped the game by catching the ball and setting her paddle on the blue table. Harry frowned. "Why did you stop?"

"A-are my parents going to break up?"

Harry swallowed the accumulated saliva inside his mouth as he realized that Aylin's usually lively eyes had now passed away and a layer of tears was the only thing that made them shine.

"I, um, er, I mean, they probably will— not! They'll probably figure it, uh, out?" By then, the girl's cheeks had turned red as a watermelon and tears were already streaming down her cheeks like a winter storm, placing a hand over her mouth and running off, losing herself in the crowd.

Harry's mouth fell open in agape as guilt filled his heart. He wanted her to be quiet, but not in this way, so the only thing he could think of was to chase her, although it will be difficult to find her when there are hundreds of people running from one place to another and many loud sounds.

"Aylin! Aylin! Where are you Aylin?!"

Now he was getting desperate: according to the watch that was stolen from one of the houses he was in, twelve minutes have passed since he went out in search, but without being able to find the treasure. Thousands of situations and thoughts crossed his mind: she's lost, it's your fault, she was kidnapped, it's your fault, maybe she's dead, it's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault.

In the end, it seems like it's always Harry's fault.

Then he saw her. She was sitting on the ground, the darkness playing in her favor, her knees bent toward her chest and her arms hugging herself.

In the end, it seems that Aylin will always have to hug herself.

He hadn't even noticed when his feet guided him to one of the tent shops and now he had a cotton candy in one hand and a candied apple in the other. He had no idea where he got the money from; he just rummaged in his pockets and voilà! Money.

Harry sat next to her somewhat nervous, he didn't know what to say, or how to act, what he should think, less how to give her what he bought her. Aylin already knew of his presence, but said nothing.

"Ejm, I — I bought you this, I'm not sure if you like cotton candy more or candied apple. . . uh, which one?"

She sniffed her nose that looked like Rudolph the reindeer's nose and turned her head to look at Harry. Her eyes were swollen and from time to time she would shake from the force (and consistency) of her crying.

Slowly, with her index finger, she pointed, surprisingly shy at the cotton candy. Harry smirked because at least she accepted his ‘forgive me gift’. He kept the apple and the two of them silently began to eat the sweets.

And Harry thought that perhaps he wanted to hear her speak more, since now there was no sound between the two, not even of her breathing, nor of her thoughts. But at least she ate with him.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles blurbs #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction

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