you ever work on your wip for a while and then minimize it and do other things or go to bed or whatever and then you open it up to work on it later and get immediately bodied by a line that completely takes you out at the knees that you don't remember writing

Oh my chaos

Only two (and a half I suppose) pranks have been committed and I'm over 1K words 🤣

Saying all of Graves' lines out loud while empathizing my accent to make sure it fits

For the 3 of you who would even be interested…

I might do a Tumblr Live writing session on one of my Astrid/Ray fics tonight.

Time TBD

writing the worlds worst short story for class <3

is "sonic forcing shadow to have a little fun" a trope in fics? if it is i have turned the tables so hard right now

The thing about the Bottomji Big Bang 50% check-in in a few days is that, on the one hand, my estimated word count was 60k, and we're now at 24k, so we're doing pretty good there!

However, my estimated chapter count is 20, and I just finished chapter 6. So.

I'm stressed.

how the hell do i say "the only reason Will Graham had such fantasies of violence was because he was primed for it because his whole life was saturated with violence"

without also saying "violent video games cause violence"?? ghffjfjfjf

Editing an old fic for like the 10th time and I can't believe the parts that needed the least editing were the smut bits

1. hit 50k words on a wip

2. look at calendar

3. all wrote in 30 days

happy hanukkah, chag sameach everyone!!! here's a clip from far, far ahead in wriggle up on dry land, my ted lasso au where jamie's 15 and the groundsman's assistant when the story begins. at this point of the story he is 17 and he lives with ted - for. reasons. - and ted and roy have essentially ended up co-parenting him, which has been a learning process for everyone. this is their first real holiday season together, and the first time roy has decided to celebrate hanukkah of his own initiative (not with phoebe and his sister) in a long time.

The mulish determination that had carried Roy all the way through talking to Sarah and going to the little judaica store she’d given him the address of and getting everything set up disappears as soon as there’s someone else in the house. He hovers awkwardly near the doorway and watches while Ted and Jamie shuck off their coats and Ted nudges the kid to remind him to take his shoes off inside. They’ve both been in his house before, more times than he can count by this point, but somehow the experience feels new and unpredictable. Neither Ted nor Jamie seem to notice, chattering to each other about whatever they’d been talking about before they got here, but Roy can’t escape it. The feeling is loud and cloying and he can’t turn it off.

Just as Roy is about to conclude this entire thing had been a mistake and he should call it off right now, he realizes that the new arrivals have left him behind in his own entryway, moving on into the dining room where-

Well. Roy hurries after them and comes to an abrupt stop in the doorway. Ted’s got his hands tucked into his pockets and he looks at Roy with a warm, knowing smile that Roy resents on principle. Jamie is staring at the table, stopped in place like he can’t quite comprehend what he’s seeing. It’s an understandable reaction. A menorah was to be expected. Three of them is… Three of them is something else.

They’re lined up in a neat little row on the table, candles already placed in the farthest corners and the middles, a lighter laying nearby in anticipation of what’s coming next. The one on the left end is simple and traditional, the first one that Roy had grabbed. It reminded him of the one his grandparents had, the one that is probably in the window at Sarah’s house right now, already lit. In the middle sits a short menorah, a flat row of silver candle holders with the shamash slightly raised at the centre of them, and a colourful pattern on a panel behind them. Red pomegranates are set against a blue background and the whole thing had reminded him of Richmond. The last, on the right, is elegantly shaped silver metal, a trunk and the reaching branches of a little tree. It had taken Roy a long time to choose it. Dissatisfied with the options, he’d been about to give up and choose one at random when he’d spotted it, tucked away at the back of the shelf. As soon as he’d seen it, he’d known it was the one he wanted - on the way out of the store he’d thought to himself Do they even have trees in fucking Kansas? And then he’d been so irritated at what an insane thing that was to worry about that he’d nearly tripped over a crack in the pavement.

Finally tearing his eyes away from the table, Jamie glances over this shoulder at Roy. He looks confused, a little uncertain, like he’s got a question but he doesn’t want to ask it. The story he’d told about spending Hanukkah with his friend Ash’s family pops into Roy’s mind and he wonders if this is a setup Jamie recognizes, if he’s counted the menorahs on the table and done the simple math and realized what that meant. Then again, this is Jamie. That kind of conclusion is not one he can be relied on to reach himself, and so Roy is going to have to explain.

“That’s what we did,” Roy forces out eventually. His voice sounds thick and stony even to his own ears and he stops, swallowing hard before he tries again. The last thing he wants is to sound resentful, or angry, or any of the other things he knows he sounds when he’s emotional - embarrassed, this time. Anxious for their reactions, for this display of the thinness of his own life, his lack of substance that he’d needed to go out and buy these new and Googled it three times before he was sure he’d put the candles in the right end.

“In my family,” he says, faintly pleased that it comes out softer than before, gentler and less intense. “And in a lot of families. Don’t know about your friend Ash, but… But that’s what we did, and a lot of people do. Have one for… For everyone in the…” Roy waves a hand around, a vague circle indicating the room. His cheeks feel hot and he doesn’t know why this is so fucking hard to say. “In the immediate family. So. Y’know. Three.”

There. He’s said it and he’s explained and he didn’t pass out or die and nobody immediately laughs either so that has to be some kind of a good sign. Roy stares resolutely at the grain of the kitchen table. He can feel the eyes of the other two people in the room on him but he can’t bring himself to look over at them. Not quite yet.

Planning out a gen fukinamono fic thread is post canon and I want Itsuki to say how much Ashiya means to him, but 6 small chapters planned in and I still haven’t managed how and where to put that in

i know its partly the nature of critical role as a whole changing for this third campaign, but its SO funny to me that "Dont Trust Anyone Not Even Yourself" Paranoid Chucklefucks The Mighty Nein were showered in kind and helpful guest PC's and ended up So Good at the Magic Of Friendship (threatening). While Bell's Hells of "time for therapy!!!!" "do you think they'll be our friend" "what the fuck is up with that game time!!" have wound up with a like. 40% hit rate for villains in their close friends. like this is a MASSIVE oversimplification and it makes sense but its mostly very funny to me. rip to early campaign m9 you would have loved all of your paranoid instincts constantly paying off in the worst way

Calling upon my friends to tell me some good flowers so this bouquet has meaning

I can’t believe 58 people stared at my face while I wrote for an hour. 

vietnam war music spotify playlist goes hard