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pumpkinsouppe · 4 months

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I haven’t played all of AA4 yet but I was thinking a lot about how uneasy the first case made me feel (in a good way) and I finally figured out why. (AA 4-1 spoilers btw) Part of it of course is the overall scheme: what happened 7 years ago and what are the answers to all these unresolved questions. But I genuinely don’t think I’ve seen a more accurate depiction of how I experienced GAD and social anxiety than I have with Apollo Justice.

Thankfully, I have learned to stand up for myself and I’ve controlled the majority of my anxiety but I can very clearly see that Apollo has not done that, at least yet. I am hoping hoping hoping we get to see him grow in this game because I know that AA5 and 6 won’t do that justice (lol). All throughout the first case, Apollo rarely spoke for himself. He was very much a follower and wanted approval, ergo he was very easy to manipulate. Kristoph and Phoenix both recognized this about him and were able to both use Apollo as their own puppets. He followed Kristoph’s orders whenever he gave them (‘expose phoenix’s lies’ ‘don’t embarrass me’) but he also was very willing to follow Phoenix’s orders too (‘point on the map for us’ ‘name the fourth person/killer’ ‘accuse Kristoph’). He followed who he thought was seeking the truth but he had to be told that doing these actions was for the truth.

I never was manipulated in court like Apollo experienced, but I was VERY quick to abandon plans for something else or act in ways if someone told me to. I remember sometimes even saying yes to things that made me super uncomfortable because I didn’t think for myself and didn’t want to disappoint or make anyone mad. And you can tell that Apollo really looked up to both Kristoph and Phoenix in that trial. He wasn’t sure who to believe so he followed both simultaneously until at the end when he realized both were assholes. I LOVE the unease I felt during the first case. It felt so real to me how Apollo was able to be so easily manipulated and how that was able to be used as a very interesting way to set up a new game and protagonist.

It’s amplified especially if you played all the past Phoenix Wright games. Hell, I finished PLvsPW an hour before picking up AA4 and that really influenced how much I wanted to also follow and believe Phoenix. So I absolutely love how this trial was used not only to play with the heart and mind of Apollo, but the players as well. There’s less reason to follow Kristoph since the players don’t have the same bond Kristoph and Apollo have since this was our first time meeting him, but because he’s our boss and he’s standing at the defense with us like Mia has, that adds to his credibility. Which is even better that Phoenix took Kristoph’s spot behind the defense bench when Kristoph was summoned to the stand. “Don’t believe that other guy, look at where he is now. Believe me instead, the person who just left that same spot.” You want to believe him, it’s Phoenix Wright! Teaching us the ways just like Mia. But what he’s actually done is replace Kristoph as the supposed voice of reason in Apollo’s ear. Yes that’s the spot for mentors, but does every mentor have your best intentions in mind? Are you able to distinguish genuine advice versus motivated advice?

I am truly fascinated and captivated by the writing. You can tell how much Shu Takumi has grown as a writer compared to the original AA1. I am so excited to play the rest of this game.

#I haven’t written smth like this in a while fhdjlaf and it’s all been TLOZ related in the past #like damn what a killer opening #i am soooo sad that we dont actually have a true Apollo justice trilogy i would do anything for more of this #and more of this i mean a story centered on Apollo with this level of writing lmao #i wrote this whole thing instead of working on my sop my god #also worth mentioning is I love how anxiety is displayed differently between Phoenix Apollo and ryunosuke #esp between ryuu and Apollo where one is very unsure of his abilities to defend but listens to his heart vs the other who #is more confident in his ability but struggles to form his own opinion #UHG i love these games so much I am so glad I finally got aroudn to playing them #ace attorney #Apollo justice

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adriancatrin · 1 year

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i’m over the whole concept of wips. be done already. get out of my head

#i wrote like 2k of my new soulmate au a few days ago while v drunk and haven’t gotten back to it #hm maybe i need to get drunk again ahhaha #don’t worry boys i’m well on my way #zukka #thoughts #update #i guess #i love soulmate au’s cuz they present an especially unique issue of ‘these characters will know they’re meant to be together-#-not just the reader’#(certain kinds at least)#and it’s fun to play w that esp in enemies to lovers like zukka #my last soulmate au is so cringe to me now but it’s my top fic by FAR lol #last i checked it had over 2k kudos and like 12k hits?? that’s crazy for me for real #anyways #i suppose i’m glad y’all like them too #lolol

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museenkuss · 5 months

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[onewordprompts] — Sandelholz

I. shimmering

II. composure

III. shadow

IV. mirror

V. footsteps

VI. coffee

VII. solitude

VIII. enclosed

IX. glove

X. silence

XI. bed frame

XII. hair

XIII. coromandel

XIV. leather

XV. elevated

#Museenkuss #bed frame isn’t cheating because it’s one word in German and this was translated #prompts #writing prompt #creative writing #writeblr #etc etc.#I was very desperate last night because I haven’t written anything in a while #so I wrote up very free and breezy prompts that leave a lot of room to play BUT they’re all delicately interconnected as a whole #so it was an exercise all in itself #and I wrote a completely different one first but it’s more spring like #so let’s start with sandalwood #writing

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mothfables · 6 months

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In Which Wars Picks a Fight With an Apple Tree (& Loses)

“Remind me again why we’re going to every tree?” Wars’ voice is slightly strained as he trails behind Legend, hefting the heavy basket in his arms.

“Because-“ Legend pauses to twist a particularly stubborn apple from its’ stem. “Because I don’t want my apples to rot while I’m not around, and Ravio can only do so much on his own. Besides, it’s not every tree.” One more twist and the apple comes free. He turns to drop it into the basket, shooting the other hero a smug grin. “Just most of them.” Warriors splutters.

The two of them have been out here for a few hours now; after Ravio had mentioned how he’d been worried about finishing the harvest in time Legend had all-but leapt up and made a beeline for the back door. Warriors had followed after him curiously only to find a basket the size of his torso shoved in his arms and told to ‘keep up.’ The other hero had apparently decided to start right this minute and marched straight for the nearest fruit-ladened tree, Wars stumbling after him.

They had to have gone through at least a quarter to a third of the orchard by now, Warriors guesses. Legend has a lot of trees, but not that many. (Part of him suspects the other is going slow on purpose.) Then again, the Captain doesn’t know much about apples, or the care and harvesting thereof. There wasn’t really much of an opportunity, in the city.

He shifts the basket in his arms so it’s more secure before speaking again. “What are you planning to do after this? Surely you’re not keeping all of these.” His voice comes out sharper than intended and he winces. Shit, he’d slipped into what Wind called his ‘knight voice’ for a second there. He sneaks a glance at his brother, who doesn’t seem to have noticed, having moved to the next branch to start working at the apples there.

Legend hums before answering. “Well, yeah, some of ‘em we’ll keep, some we’ll be selling next market day. The rest we’ll bake or turn into cider or something.” He comes back to dump an armful of fruit into the basket. “None of it will be wasted, if that’s what you’re worryin’ about. Even the overripe ones; those get put out for the deer an’ anything else that wants any.”

Wars can’t help but smile at the accent slipping into his brother’s voice, like warm honey over cool mint. It’s something the Veteran tends to keep tight under wraps, to match his voice to the front he puts up for the world. The fact that it’s making an appearance now, and the other is making no move to correct it, shows that he feels comfortable and safe enough to let his walls down- even if it’s just a little.

Following Legend as he moves to the next tree, Warriors takes the time to look around them. Trees heavy with fruit surround them, branches hanging low from the weight. Some are bare, however, and he remembers Legend saying how he’d had to work to bring it back from practically nothing, him and his uncle, before the man died and Legend was left to continue on his own. Even now, to his untrained eye, Warriors can see there’s still much work to be done. But that doesn’t erase all the progress that has been made.

Things continue in this vein for a while, the two of them chatting amiably and occasionally sniping at each other in friendly banter. At one point, Legend sends Wars back to the house to grab another basket when the first becomes too full. Wars complains but does as he’s told, grinning as Legend playfully gripes about him ‘growing soft from all that city-livin’; what, the big, strong Captain can’t carry a single basket?’

Warriors shoots back that he ‘may not be the Rancher, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t done my fair share of heavy lifting!’ Legend cackles. Wars finds himself beaming at the sound, his chest growing warm and full.

He’s so caught up in their banter that he forgets to watch his step; his foot catches in something- a hole or divot in the ground- and he stumbles straight into the low-hanging branches of a nearby tree. The basket tumbles from his hands, apples scattering everywhere as he tries to catch himself. He only succeeds in tangling himself further before his head meets the trunk with a resounding thwack!

Wars slumps against it, dazed, before yelping as he’s bombarded by what feels like at least half a dozen small projectiles from above. He holds up his arms in an attempt to shield his already aching head but it’s over as quickly as it started.

He hears what he thinks must be Legend yelling but his ears are ringing too badly to make out any individual words. Then there are hands on him, pulling him away from the tree and supporting him as he stumbles. Wars presses a hand over his eyes, dizzy.

He blinks and he’s sitting on the porch, Legend next to him. The other hero is fussing, pressing a gentle hand to his head and leaning closer to check his eyes. A scowl fixes itself on his face when he sees Wars looking at him and he removes his hand to cross his arms.

“Y’back with me, city boy? Or do I have t’go an’ call Time or Rulie out here?”

Warriors can’t help it- he laughs. Legend blinks, caught off-guard, before his scowl deepens. That only makes him laugh harder before a spike of pain lances through his skull and he has to stop to press the heels of his palms into his eyes, hissing.

“Serves you right,” his brother grumbles. Even still, he’s gentle as he pulls Wars’ hands down to check his head again. “I think you might have a minor concussion. With how hard you hit that tree I’m surprised it’s not any worse. ‘specially since y’got rained on with apples right after.”

“That’s what those were?!”

Now it’s Legend’s turn to snort at the flabbergasted look on Wars’ face. He leans back, done with his examination. “Sure was. Gotta say, the look on yer face makes me wish I had Wind’s pictobox or somethin’. It was priceless.” He shoots him a smirk.

Wars pouts, but any (admittedly minor) affect it might have had is ruined by his stomach growling. He glances down at it in surprise. It hadn’t been that long since he’d last eaten, had it? ...No, they’ve been out here for hours, that’s right. Damn.

Legend sighs and reaches for something out of his sight. Wars blinks and suddenly there’s an apple being waved in his face. He follows the arm it’s attached to and sees his brother scowling at him, a singular brow raised.

“C’mon, I’m not sitting around here all day.” Legend looks suddenly unsure. “Um. I don’t- know if it’s okay to eat with a concussion but no one ever said not to, so-”

Warriors huffs a laugh and takes the apple, watching Legend deflate with relief. “I’m pretty sure you have to be careful with more serious concussions. If it’s minor like you said, I’ll just have to watch not to hit my head again and drink plenty of water.” He pauses, thinking. “At least, I think that’s right.” ...Listen, he may have learned concussion symptoms and care by necessity in the war, but it’s been a few years and people don’t usually make it a habit of keeping his skills in that department sharp. There’s a reason there’s more than one healer in their party.

Legend’s other eyebrow rises to join the first. Wars coughs and glances away, raising the apple to his mouth and taking a bite.

His own eyebrows shoot up and he finds himself making a delighted sound at the taste. He’d forgotten how good fresh-picked fruit tastes. (No, the stuff from the Champion’s slate doesn’t count. Something about the way it saves things just doesn’t do the flavour right-) Suddenly he’s torn between devouring it on the spot and savouring every bite.

“Lege, I think I love you,” he declares, taking another bite.

The veteran makes exaggerated gagging noises. “C-c’mon, it’s jus’ an apple. I’m not- it’s not even a fuckin’- pie or anythin’.” Wars simply chews louder, swooning dramatically. “Gross.” But he’s smiling, violet eyes bright, and Warriors beams back at him.

In a few more bites he finishes his treat and is left looking down at his empty hands with a forlorn expression. Legend sighs and hands him another apple.

“What’s got you so excited ‘bout these anyway? I thought for sure you’d get like this abou’- I dunno, that dumb fancy food nobles eat or somethin’.”

Warriors ignores the fact that Legend absolutely knows what ‘dumb fancy food’ is, well aware the veteran has been forced by Fable to attend several events in his own era, and simply hums, tapping his feet happily. “Nah, I’ve never really been a fan,” he says eventually, watching Legend’s ear flick in surprise. “It’s just- fresh stuff like this is- was hard to come by, during the war. And then after, when we were focused on rebuilding and everything, it was just as hard. Maybe harder, depending on where you were in the city.” Second apple finished, he wipes his hands on his pants and leans back to soak up the sun. “Especially since a lot of it would spoil by the time it got out to us. So it was always nice, getting something fresh, y’know?”

He sneaks a glance at his brother. Legend is quiet, his gaze unexpectedly thoughtful. Warriors doesn’t mind. He knows his brothers, knows they see the gleaming city, the fancy clothes, the posh people, and think ‘rich, cultured, used to fine things.’ And sure, he’s a little bit of all of those (being the Hero and a highly-respected Captain during a major war you played a huge hand in admittedly has its’ perks), but the truth is he’s always preferred the simpler things.

That’s one reason he loves spending time with his brothers, staying with them in their homes; he gets to see the world like they do, if only a little bit: their comforts and habits, their favourite places and people and foods. They’re all so far from the pomp and rigidness of court life back in his own era, and he loves every minute of it.

He smiles, expression fond, and leans over to knock his shoulder against the vet’s.

“So,” he starts, causing the other to startle, “you said something earlier about baking some of the apples? What do you usually make?”

Just like that, it’s like a switch has been flipped. Purple eyes light up again, and Wars watches as his brother visibly brightens, hands beginning to wave and gesture as he speaks.

“We make a bunch o’ things! It depends on the apples and what you wanna make; there’s a bunch of desserts and dinner stuff an’ drinks an’ all kinds of things! Rav likes apple butter so we usually make at least one or two tubs of that. But we also make pies, tarts, cobblers, stuffed apples... We brew a bunch of cider, too, that’s really good when it gets colder. I think Wind an’ Hyrule would really like the candied apples Ravi makes- ooh, and Time would prolly like apple chips-”

Warriors listened to his brother talk, his expression happy and open. His head still hurts a little, but it’s easy to push back and focus on this- a happy brother by his side, a sunny porch, and a whole bucket of fresh, delicious apples. He rests his weight back on his hands and closes his eyes, determined to enjoy it.

#moth’s tales #fanfiction #linked universe #linked universe fanfiction #lu legend #lu warriors #just two boys hanging out. having fun. teasing each other #as you do #i drew on my own memories of going apple picking with my family while i wrote this #we haven’t done that in a while... it was fun #although admittedly i never whacked my head on a tree #while apple picking. i have hit my head on a tree before #minimal research done on what to do with a concussion

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bvckandeddie · 8 months

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wip wednesday

tagged by @devirnis thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

this is from a wip affectionately titled ‘angst fic,’ a post s6 fic in a world where eddie and buck have known for years the potential of what their relationship could become, yet buck starts dating natalia anyway. eddie handles this, how do you say, uhhh, badly. 😁

Eddie’s about to slump onto the couch, crack open a beer, and start a trashy reality show when his front door opens. Frozen between his living room and dining room, Eddie stares at Buck as he steps inside.

He’s still wearing what he likely wore on his date with Natalia, and he looks unfairly good in a pair of snug black jeans and that checkered jacket he’s been favoring recently. His hair is styled effortlessly with the same pomade he recommended to Eddie after he cut his hair short—every time Eddie uses it, he feels a tiny thrill that he smells like Buck, that they smell like each other.

“Uh,” Eddie says when Buck doesn’t say anything immediately. “Hi?”

“Hey,” he replies, shutting the door behind him. “The boys already asleep?”

“If your jeep didn’t wake them up, then yeah,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, wincing internally at his accusatory tone. “They’re in the backyard.”

Buck nods, shoulders hunching as he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. He lowers his eyes, not meeting Eddie’s gaze.

This is the moment when Eddie would offer him a beer and a spot on his couch. Instead of asking what Buck wants to watch the way he usually would, he asks, “What are you doing here?”

Buck barely has to twitch his shoulders into a shrug, considering how close they are to his ears already. “If I couldn’t help with the sleepover, I thought I could at least be here to listen to you vent. If you—if you want to.”

Eddie has the abrupt and sudden urge to bite through his own tongue. For reasons that he still can’t parse out, Buck is determined to act like nothing has changed between them, like he still wants to give Eddie his unwavering friendship when Eddie isn’t feeling quite as charitable. Like he can waltz into his house at 11pm on a Friday night and pretend that his lips aren’t kiss bitten from lips that aren’t Eddie’s.

i’m pretty sure every writer i know on here has already been tagged, but i’ll tag @buck2eddie @cowboy-buck @alyxmastershipper @wildlife4life @colonoscopys @oliverstaark if you want to ❤️

#again thanks for tagging me and thinking of me ❤️#this fic probably won’t be for everyone #after this snippet buck and eddie have a delicious fight and don’t speak to each other for weeks 🥰🤩🤗🤭#i wrote most of the rest while in a bad mood and you can probably tell #but don’t worry. i’ll make it better. yknow. eventually #(haven’t written that part yet. but it’s coming.)#tag games

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theshadowrealmitself · 10 months

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*really late at night/early morning*

Brain: Hey, I know you’re exhausted, but for the first time in forever I’m gonna make you feel inspired to write a story, I’m also gonna give you a really good outline of how the story goes and how it ends, which you usually have trouble with

Me: But-

Brain: Oh I know, you’re not gonna be able to do it tonight, you’re also gonna lose that motivation to do it when you wake up, this is just to fuck with you rn while you try to sleep :3c

#im. im fucking obsessed with every part of this plot bunny #please please PLEASE let me keep motivation to work on it when I wake up #I already wrote down the outline so I don’t forget it #*please*#ugh only problem with writing stuff I intend to post on ao3 is that I’ve also put in my other side account on one of my stories #and I hardly use that side account because one of my exes started stalking it after we broke up #he wasn’t even following me while we were dating!!#he waited till after I broke up with him to follow me!!#and then after I blocked him he still kept interacting with my blog!!!#tumblr make a better fucking blocking system.#yeah so I’m worried about him potentially knowing my ao3 account #and I really hope he doesn’t follow this account #@ eric if you’re *still* looking at my stuff just know that you’re a mega creep and I hate you.#seriously dude.#haven’t deleted that side account or my ao3 cause I’m still attached to them #but yeah it sucks posting to either of them knowing that there’s a CREEP who WONT RESPECT MY BOUNDARIES looking at them #god I hate him #no fandom

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skoulsons · 10 months

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Eye To Eye Is All We Can See

• gif by @azertyrobaz

Pairing: Ezra & Cee (Prospect 2018)

Word count: ~2900

Summary: Ezra says something stupid and Cee tries to convince him that he’s wrong

A/N: Nothing except I wrote this until sunrise , so I apologize if it is absolutely terrible, downright ooc, or horribly grammatically. I have not rewatched the movie quite yet 💀 Just a bit of fluff and a tiny hurt/comfort?? Don’t ship them!!

Tagging my favorite people who I get to talk about this movie with: @sotvtaughtmehowtofeel @not-so-mundane-after-all @orangechickenpillow @jessahmewren @alternatewriter @starchild0985

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you,” she said.

They’ve been together a few cycles, the Green Moon left far behind them.

The cycles have been nothing short of eventful in a small spacecraft and two strangers in a very complicated relationship. Cee has had to keep an extra keen eye on Ezra. Not because of distrust, but to make sure his arm is healing well. Or, as well as a cut-off limb could heal with limited medical supplies and a kid, though capable, having done the operation.

Also because Ezra keeps forgetting he’s lost an arm and continuously reaches out for support along the walls of the ship when he moved from their sleeping quarters to the cockpit and he has fallen every single time. He fell out of his bed the first night they were in it; Cee spent five minutes trying to pull him back into the bed and then another fifteen having a verbal battle with him to try and convince him to get back in bed.

There have been moments of frustration where things catch up with Cee, her irritations coming out verbally to Ezra. He never fights back. He always sits, patient and understanding as Cee rehashes the things she’s kept bottled up and taped down for years with all the strength of scotch tape that’s lost all its grip.

They were also navigating their route off the Green to somewhere safe and figuring out… what exactly they were. Strangers? Partners? Friends? Family? Ezra has treated Cee as a real person, a girl with agency and deserving of a fruitful life since the second he met her; it’d be difficult to walk away from someone who gave you something you missed out on all your life. In that same way, it’d be hard to walk away from a kid that saved your life—twice.

Cee also had nightmares about the Green. The Saters, the mercs, the music, even her own father. Ones of Ezra, too. Him dying, abandoning her. Him using her, just like Damon seemed to do. On the worst night, the night when Damon and Ezra’s lifeless eyes were all she could see and their cold, torn open skin were all she could feel, she woke up crying.

Ezra was at her side before she even woke, unsure what exactly to do. He waited, and when she finally did wake, with a tear-stained face and a burning throat, Ezra’s compassion was overwhelming. His eyes were gentle, concerned. He kept his only arm hovering over her shoulder, waiting for permission. She let him hold it, for both their sakes, wishing she’d hugged him instead. Wishing she met him on the floor, their legs a conglomeration of limbs as he held her tight against his side. Instead, he stayed beside her until she calmed, quiet and reserved affirmations in It’s okay, little bird and You’re safe, Cee. Damon's cold, almost robotic responses to her harsher dreams were always Quit your crying or It’s a dream, calm down, so when Ezra keeps a firm, reassuring hold on her shoulder, talks her through it, and wears a soft smile Cee thinks she got to see even before Kevva knew of it—one that is only heightened when the stars of the Black shine enough light in to highlight his strands, making him look less intimidating than he makes himself out to be—Cee relaxes. How a stranger, of all people, can sit beside her and walk her through something so small compared to what all the Black has to offer is beyond her. How Ezra, literally, stooped down to her level to comfort her.

It doesn’t make sense. Nothing that has happened the last seven cycles makes sense. The Green and the people, if they could even be called such a thing, that the pair encountered still seemed so far away from Cee. That they were things that seemed only to be written in fictional novels and included in stories of old.

Except for one thing. One thing that makes sense. One thing that Cee is becoming more clear on with each passing cycle. Perhaps the clearest thing to come out of their time together.

He cares.

She cares, too.

And now they were in the Black, and had been for six cycles. The vastness and eternity of the growing darkness offered a strange comfort to both of them. Despite their care for each other, freedom was out there. Freedom awaited the both of them out there. Separate freedom.

Cee was always confined to Damon. She was always just another pair of hands to mine or hold something Damon couldn’t. An extra pair of eyes to search for Aurelac or an extra pair of ears to listen for any harm or to protect him, completely selfishly. Damon never acted selflessly, not even for his own daughter.

She hadn’t much freedom apart from him. She was always tied to him and his work. She was never given opportunities away from him. No chances for her to explore on her own. To see what was so great about this life that Kevva gifted her. She never had the chance to meet other people and form lasting friendships. She wasn’t given time to… live.

The Black offered that to her—Opportunities. Planets to stop at, to lay low on. Places to settle down. A life to live.

Ezra had freedom ever since he was a kid. He was free, encouraged even, to explore. To get to know the world around him. The vastness of the growing creation. He had the freedom, the opportunities, to explore all of it. But as he grew, there was a hunger for earning. A hunger for points and mining. Anything that could offer him a more than satisfactory life. Aurelac, specifically. An attachment to the work, the hunt, also selfishly. He did what he had to to get what he wanted, similar to Damon. Only Ezra, despite being on his own for most of his adulthood and being separated from his family for longer, cared. He cared enough to listen and pay attention to a little girl he didn’t even know.

He cared enough to be fair. Even split.

Being free from his work wasn’t too far-fetched for Ezra, but it happening because of a child was definitely not his expectation.

Especially someone like Cee. She had a fire in her. She was capable, he knew first hand she was. She was strong, threatening when she needed to be. She was skilled, intelligent, able.

But she was just a kid. He saw how scared she was, even with Damon. But in their time on the Green, he’s gotten to know her. Cee was kind, careful. Ezra noticed the way the inflection in her voice changed when she got excited about Streamer Girl. She cared and she protected. Her heart was big, willing to risk her life to go back for him, even after he specifically told her to go.

Cee was good. All she did was help. Love. She wasn’t a killer. She wasn’t selfish. She wasn’t ruthless or hungry for points. She wasn’t bad.

Ezra believed himself to be. He killed. He was willing, ready, to kill. Someone who has that reputation isn’t good, especially when killing a little girl’s dad gets added to the list, despite what he thought of the man.

He doesn’t believe he’s worthy to be thanked. That anything he’s done, especially to her, is any reason for thanks.

“Oh, no, nothing to thank me for, birdie. I have left you barren and deem your gratitude inappropriate for such a time. Ever since you touched down on the Green Moon, your conditions have been less than unacceptable…”

“Ezra…”

“...and I have been present in all the things that have troubled you so greatly these last few cycles. You have been burdened with dragging my weakened bag of bones across the Green.” “Even as we venture into the Black, you have continually endured my long-winded communication and idle, though I believe fascinating, narrative.”

“Ezra-”

“I am a bit crestfallen that you’ve been subjected to a multitude of predicaments in the time we’ve been together and that I have imparted insignificant salutary to your current expedition.”

“Ezra.”

“The Saters, the mercenaries… I’ve only brought you hindrance after hindrance, little bird. Allow me to implement points in to your care so that you may persevere in your journey and-”

“Ezra!” she shouted, grabbing at his face. Her hands reached his neck first, fingers stretching to the back of his neck, tickling his hairline.

She doesn’t know what this is like. Damon was never really gentle with her. Not physically, at least. She thinks, maybe, he was gentle with her when she was born. Holding her in the crook of his arm, her small, fragile head resting in the safety of his hold. Her skin held against his, breathing in tune with his, eyes fluttering open to catch her first glimpse of the world; her father, a tight-lipped smile strung across his face as tears well in his eyes, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over the blanket she’s wrapped tightly in, occasionally bringing his thumb up to her red cheeks, a quiet hi to greet her.

Something she thinks Ezra could’ve done.

Something she suspects Damon didn’t do.

Something she knows Ezra would’ve done.

Cee pulled her hands away from his neck and brought them to his face instead, her palms too small to hold him the way she wanted to. She tried, letting them rest against his cheeks and feeling the scratch of his beard beneath her fingers. She kept her fingers outstretched, her pointer and middle threading lightly through the hair above his ears as her last two sit beneath his ear. She kept her thumbs in place on both his cheeks.

If there’s something to say, Cee can't say it.

She’s used to apologizing. She’s used to apologizing over taking up too much space. She’s used to apologizing over getting excited over Streamer Girl. She’s used to apologizing for eating too much of their rations, even when it was the amount she and Damon agreed on. She’s used to apologizing over resting, even when there was nothing to do. She’s used to apologizing over… being around him. Her breath was enough to apologize for.

But this wasn’t for apologizing. Ezra said something stupid and she needs to convince him that he’s wrong.

But the words can’t come to her. They don't. A contrast to how Ezra seemingly has an eleven page research paper of words on hand at all times, no matter the situation, Cee comes up short on correcting him. On affirming him that he’s wrong. On reassuring him that he has helped her.

He’s a grown man. A grown man who killed her father doesn’t need affirmation. Doesn’t need reassurance. And he surely does not need his face held because some kid thought he said something stupid.

Definitely not.

She holds his face firmly, the skin of his cheeks forming at her hold. “Don’t… say that, please. You’ve…” she pauses, inhaling and exhaling through her nose, forcing herself to catch his eyes and to make sure he hears her. “You’ve done a lot. You have. I know it’s… it’s only been a few cycles, but…”

You saved me. You protected me. You kept me. You came after me. You encouraged me. You made me feel safe. You tried to sacrifice yourself for me. You killed for me, more than once.

You loved me. You love me.

Her mind races with all of it, every word holding an unimaginable weight she had never experienced prior. Every word holding truth and passion behind them. Honesty covered every single one, Cee knowing in her soul that that was the man Ezra is. Those things he has done for her, how he’s treated her—that is who he is.

She watches him, wondering if, somehow, the look in her eyes could say the words for her. And if the glimmer in his eye is any indication, she thinks the burning it has left in her heart has found its way to his, too.

She could never say any of that about Damon. He wasn’t an encouragement and any dreams she had and wanted to pursue were shut down by him. She didn’t feel safe with him—not the kind of safe where she’d hide behind him if they were approached. There wasn’t any confidence that he’d care to protect her with his life. And if it came down to the Saters, Damon wouldn’t have kept her.

Ezra was different. Ezra was new, fresh. Real. He showed her more in seven cycles than Damon showed her in sixteen years.

That, to Cee, was enough.

She was wanted now. She could tell. Ezra’s attempt at telling her he was no good for her and saying he offered her nothing was the furthest thing from the truth.

Cee has sought connections all her life and was always denied or taken too soon to form a new one. It was always just Damon. Ezra went through so many partners in his life that he became numb to anyone who would stick around permanently. Numb to anyone who would ever be with him—his other half. And when a child entered his life and created and filled the hole in his heart that wasn’t there before, it became something supernatural. A longing he had immediately, and also a resisting. He was dangerous and he managed to put Cee in some of the most risky situations in under a day.

But Cee didn’t focus on that. She saw through that. She saw his passion and interest in the things he talked about. While it has only been with her, she’s seen the way he cares. The way he went to walk her through the operation on his arm. How he smiled at her and had an immediate pet name off hand to call her by, which, surprisingly, has stuck around—not that she would ask for him to stop using it. How he indulged her interest in Streamer Girl, saying he must now read it after hearing her praise it so well. She’s seen his gentleness in how he’s treated her, spoken to her, but also his violence in how he’d protected her from the mercenaries.

He’s done more than enough, as much as he may try and convince her, or himself, that he has not.

She smiles at him, her hands still on the sides of his face. Before she has a moment to really think, she brought her hands around his neck more, tilting his head down and his forehead towards her. She goes to the side a bit, kissing the skin right at the hairline of his blonde section of hair. She takes a moment to breathe in while her lips are still pressed to his forehead and her fingers lay by his ears, gently holding his head in place.

If she can’t find words, she hopes this works in their place.

She pulls away from him, keeping her hands still on his face as she settles their glances back. Ezra smiles as he shyly drops his head, breathing out a light laugh. Cee smiles, too. A wide, happy smile. One almost unfit after all she’s been dealt.

Cee drops her left hand to his shoulder and takes her right hand away from his face and brings it to the blonde section of his hair. “So…” she starts, rubbing some strands back and forth between her thumb and pointer finger, “how did this even happen?”

Ezra lifts his head, trying to move his head out of Cee’s grasp, but she just laughs, continuing to rub the strands together. He stops moving his head and looks back at her, a more serious expression on his face. “Quite the story there, little bird.”

She makes a face. “...And? We’re not in a rush.”

“That we aren’t, birdie. That we aren’t. Still, it’s a bit of a lengthy tale that I don’t believe to be worthwhile taking up any cherished time we have on our trek-”

“Ezra.”

“Yes?”

“Are you avoiding my question because it’s an embarrassing story?”

Ezra looks offended and starts backing up his claim with no’s and some long and winding explanation as to how, after inhaling alarming amounts of Dust in the Green, he was brought to Central to be fixed up. A few cycles in, Ezra, prematurely, got out of bed and tripped over himself, hitting the small guard rail on the other side of the bed, knocking himself unconscious. The incident gave him nine extra cycles at medical bay and, within a few weeks, after his wound had healed, his hair was growing back blonde.

They laugh together in the ship, the joyous noise echoing off the walls as they continue to pile on jokes and more stories as the conversation flows. By the end of it, Cee’s face is red and Ezra is breathing heavily, both of them slumped against separate walls, holding their stomachs.

It’s true, there are opportunities out there in the Black. Places to settle down and figure things out. And with each new passing cycle, their decision becomes more clear: they’re figuring it out together.

~~~~~~~~~

post-fic note: I can’t remember exactly, but Ezra’s hair growing back blonde after an incident I think comes from another prospect fic out there, I think we violent ones, but I’m 100% sure if it was that one or another one. All that to say it is not an original idea and I don’t take credit for using it for Ezra’s character. I liked the idea of it when I first read it and wanted to use it similarly

#this is an absolute dumpster fire #but it’s fine #everything’s FINE #im sorry my WIP is getting very close but #I had to write them last night #I was gonna slam my head through a table if I didn’t #I know only like 5 people will see this #and I love all of you five people #im so sorry if this is bad I haven’t written them in a WHILE #not to mention I wrote for hours straight with no food and little water and sleep deprived 💀#prospect 2018 #prospect fanfic #prospect fic #L writes #fun fact #this was supposed to be cee kissing where Ezra’s blonde hair was #that was it #that was the WHOLE idea #and it is not that anymore

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tirednotflirting · 12 days

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#so the other day i was rereading this fic that i forgot i wrote #some lashton thing from like 2021 that someone reblogged out of the blue #and i was in the living room and i say out loud like ‘oh this is actually pretty good. like i used to be pretty good at this i miss it’#and roommate who actively does not read or write fic #and in particular has some moral qualms w rpf #and she’s like ‘you’re still good at writing you just haven’t done it in a while’#and idk it meant a lot in a way i wasn’t really sure how to describe?#i haven’t felt creative in a really long time but it still doesn’t change the fact that i must be capable of it if i once was?#weird vibe. but good vibe. ya know?

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vanivanvanilla · 1 year

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these dudes have been on my mind so much lately

#mapicc #vort3xdragon #woogie #woogiex #roshambogames #parrotx2 #duality duo #lifesteal smp #lssmp #vans art #was staring at the duality one like smth is missing… i forgot one of ro’s arms. o_o #also woogie’s helping parrot preen like in that one fic i wrote a while ago #btw magma is like so addicting 2 draw on. i haven’t wanted to draw like this in so long it’s so nice that i’m drawing again #usually i don’t have motivation to other than quick doodles lol

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ray-elgatodormido · 1 month

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Finished the first draft of my fic now it’s in the editing and beta Reading stage.

And hooooooo boy. Gotta say from grammatical errors to inconsistencies to uncertainty in how the characters are portrayed, there’s a bit of scrubbing to be had.

If anyone wants to beta read. Be my guest and I’m sorry in advance annsshvsksnshs

#Haven’t written fanfiction in a while so I expected to be rusty #Like I only once posted a fic on Wattpad and it was just very rough and what you’d expect from a 14 year old #And the previous ones I just wrote and kept mostly to myself #sketch #fanfiction wip #dynasty warriors #wo long: fallen dynasty #oc x canon #it will be quite the rollercoaster

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palimpsessed · 1 year

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Me when I’m having a good writing day:

#with deepest apologies to baz #i am doing my very best to get you snogged stupid i promise #also some other things too ;)#i stayed up to write last night #because i wanted to write #i wasn’t sure what i was going to say #it’s kind of a tricky conversation with some needle threading #and i was tired #but i sat down and wrote and words came out and i think i am almost done with this scene #and i wanted to just stay up all night writing #but i did sleep #it’s just #i haven’t felt this good about working on this fic or any other for a while #like my brain is just constantly buzzing with the good chemicals

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diaryofagoodpuppy · 4 months

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#as always ignore this #prob gonna be doing rants till I get home im sorry :(#but ever since i was pregnant ive had this problem with gagging right #never once gagged unless it was on a dick lol #anyway i had to hold my fathers hand while we prayed and a gag came up 😭😭😭#I CANT CONTROL IT #he didn’t get me anything for Christmas and i didn’t expect him to #he didn’t get his parents anything either #or my sister #I didn’t wanna be purposely/obviously rude so I got him something #i got him some star wars thing idc #I even wrote ”dad” on the label because I didn’t want it to be weird #I haven’t called him that since high school I think #I took a picture of it too to show my sister lol #& i caught him in a lie so that was entertaining at least lol #(also feels weird that i was pregnant today of last year and had no idea. i even took ”food baby” pics after Christmas dinner not knowing +#that I was literally pregnant lmao #BUT my father & i are going to dinner wednesday because i can’t say no to save my life 🤪#if you made it this far i love you & hope you had the best christmas <3

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aaaaaaaaagenloser · 5 months

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(Tw: kinda transphobia? Use of it/its for a character who hasn’t declared what their pronouns are yet. Arguments over whether a character is a person or not; that ties into the pronoun thing here. Bonus points for descriptions of canon-typical gore yipeeee)

An update from after writing this: oh this. Got. This one got away from me?? I think I started this at 4 minutes past the hour. It is now 43 minutes past the hour. shitt.

Update; it is now 17 minutes after the NEXT hour. 26 minutes after th last update. I have seen god in the past hour and she shook in fear of both my power and audacity. I have lunch with my family scheduled in like 6 hours and I have not yet slept. This wasn’t meant to be as long as it is but I was possessed and this is the result. I may edit it and make it smoother later but I’ll make that a separate post, I want this sleep-deprived chunk of words to be here as like a monument to the fact that I could have been playing stardew valley during this time but I chose to do this instead

TLDR: long ass story ahead written by a sleep-deprived and hyperfixation-driven author. Who is now going the fuck to BED

“We can’t just keep it! What if it has a tracking device? It won’t let us fucking touch it so there’s no way of knowing it has one unless it leads them right to us!”

“Ok, I hear you but think. That hasn’t happened yet. It’s been about what, three days? and that hasn’t happened, and they haven’t been violent towards any of us at all. They haven’t tried to go back either, so there’s no risk of them telling or leading Showfall where we are.”

“Why do you keep calling it ‘they’?”

“Well they can’t be an “it” now can it? …wait.”

“Ok can we figure out the gender of the thing in the other room after we figure out if it’s a threat to us or not. It’s not even a fucking person, you remember what those things did to you back there, don’t you?”

“Those people were not themselves, they were just doing what he wanted them to do—“

“They’re not fucking people! Those things are all part of Showfall, just like Hetch was! It’s just waiting for the right time to turn us in, or pull some shit on one of us like they did before.”

“They weren’t… they weren’t in control.”

“Yeah like fuck they weren’t, I saw it fucking happen!”

“You can’t just… Ok. Sneeg. Stop. You don’t speak for me, the one who, oh I don’t know, was the one that shit happened to? They were being controlled just like us—“

“No, no, not like us. We were wandering around and not knowing what the fuck was happening. None of us knew what was happening. We just went along blindly. Those things—on purpose—dragged you to that stupid wall and sewed wires into your hands—“

“Shut up, Sneeg—“

“No you shut up! You didn’t see it fucking happen! I saw them and Bitchface literally hold you down until you passed out! They were fucking choking you, they fucking—they nearly fucking killed you with just their hands, that’s not a little suggestion in the back of your brain, that’s on purpose! That is fucking deliberate, that is a thing those machines chose to do! You don’t remember, you weren’t conscious when they fucking stapled you to the wall and strapped your head in—“

Sneeg glanced at Ranboo for a moment in-between pacing as he ranted, and the far away look in their sibling’s eyes shut them up immediately. Ranboo was still present, thank fuck, but they were looking at their brother like he was holding up a knife to their throat.

“Fuck, Ran, okay, okay—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… shit. Do you need Charlie?”

“You don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

“…okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Do you need me to get Charlie?”

“No, I’m fucking fine.” It did not sound like he meant that at all. His voice was less steady than before. “I don’t want him to worry about our… hitchhiker. He’s worrying enough about… well, everything.”

“The fact that it’s here, so close to us is the reason I’m trying to get you to see, Ran. What if it turns on him? What if it does that shit to him when we aren’t there?”

“We will be there.”

“And when it tries anything, we can kill it?”

“Sneeg!”

“You wouldn’t kill it, even if it hurt our fucking brother?”

“Of course we wouldn’t keep them around if they did that, could we at least just… just leave it behind? …wait, no, they couldn’t take care of themselves. If we had to leave it behind, maybe we should…”

Silence lingered for a bit too long.

“We should what, Ran?”

“…Sneeg, I was about to say that killing it would be a mercy.” The Hero laughed. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

The Taken didn’t reply.

“We have to help them. I don’t… I don’t want to be on the other end of a mercy killing. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

“Okay. I’m—are you okay?”

“…m fine. It’s fine. Just. Can you stop acting like they’re any different from us? Please.”

“What do you want me to think then?” His voice was softer than it had been a few minutes before.

“Just assume that they… that they were someone. Just like we were before. And they didn’t… they didn’t do anything on their own, it was all Showfall.”

“Okay. Fine. Let’s assume they were controlled, they didn’t mean to, so on and so forth. Why haven’t they talked yet.”

“I don’t think any of the drones even could talk. Wait, should we really be calling them a drone—“

“Shut the fuck up, Ranboo, we have got to figure out what to do with it. It probably doesn’t even know what is happening, what the fuck does it matter what we call it.”

“It matters to me! Do you want me to call you by your title? Do you want to call me by mine? …No? Then why are we treating them like all they are is what Showfall made them? We had lives before, we were someone, so they must have been too. They might not realize it, or… or act like it, but they used to be someone. They are a whole person, Sneeg. We have to help them, we can’t just leave them behind because that would mean we are giving up on someone just like us, and we cannot give up on each other. They… they would have hurt us by now if they were going to. And Showfall hasn’t found us since… you know, which means there aren’t any more trackers.

…okay, Sneeg?”

“…okay. If it,” he sighed at the look Ran gave them, “if they try anything, we have to leave them behind. I’m not letting a dumbass puppet be the reason we get taken back.”

“If they—ok, whatever, you’re not understanding. You can’t say one of us somehow wanted to be controlled, and they’re a ‘puppet’ but those rules don’t apply to the rest of us—“

“There is not an ‘us,’ Ran! That thing isn’t like us!”

“Guys?”

A sleepy voice shut the two of them up instantly. They had a split-second conversation with their eyes before looking to their brother. ‘We aren’t done talking about this’ ‘You’e absolutely right, so later?’ ‘Later.’ ‘We’re telling Charlie nothing happened?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Ok good plan.’

“Why are you two fighting? I’m tired, can we please go back to sleep?”

“We weren’t fighting, we were…”

“…talking about plans for tomorrow. And you can go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to be by myself.” Charlie looked at Sneeg pointedly, who sighed to Ranboo with a playfully annoyed expression.

“Well I guess I gotta go be a teddy bear again.”

“Have fun”

“Absolutely not.”

Charlie punched Sneeg in the shoulder lightly for that, who just giggled in response and led his little brother back to their room.

Which left Ran by themselves.

Some nights, he would join them, but some nights Charlie couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Ran, and the three of them had made a silent mutual agreement that Charlie trusted Sneeg more than he did Ranboo.

…Ranboo was okay with this. He wasn’t hurt by it. He didn’t cry on the nights he slept by himself.

He didn’t wish he could be the one Sneeg comforted sometimes. They were just fine.

They were fine, which is why they went to the living room where their… well. Their hitchhiker? They weren’t exactly a brother, or a sibling, more like a fourth wheel on a tricycle. Or a flyaway hair. Okay, maybe Ranboo needed to get tbr fuck to sleep, alone or not.

But he found himself in the living room, where their hitchhiker slept. Or, didn’t sleep, as they seemed to not need to. They would sit on the couch and stare idly at the tv. That was what had started the whole conversation with Sneeg in the first place; Ran wanted to leave some kind of entertainment for the fourth person so they wouldn’t be made to sit in the dark for hours. Sneeg took this remark as a perfect opportunity to explain all the reasons why the former drone should be abandoned, but Ranboo would have fucking none of it. Maybe the couch potato (shit, he really needed to come up with a name for them—) didn’t seem to sleep, barely ate, and stayed still unless actually verbally told to move, but they were still a person. Ranboo was sure of it.

Their hand wandered up to the fresh scabs where their mask had been. The fourth person had a mask, one that hadn’t been touched. Despite usually staying still, the person—(Ranboo thinks they might just call this person Couch for now. Maybe it’s not accurate, and they’re tired, but it’s something. C, for short.)

C would back away any time the others would try to get near them. And they did in fact try, but despite how creative or sneaky they got, C always ducked away. It reminded Ranboo of the drone who had followed them with a camera, always one step away and never letting the Hero get too close.

The mask turned to Ranboo, who stared back quietly. C hadn’t talked at all, so Ranboo didn’t expect them to suddenly start now. He wasn’t even sure if they understood what was said to them, but Ranboo wanted to try anyways. Better to be polite.

“Do you like the show that’s on? I think it’s called Lucy, or something. I don’t know, Sneeg said it was funny. And it didn’t seem, uh- scary or anything.”

The mask didn’t speak.

“If you want to change it, the remote’s right there, um, I showed you how to use it before. And there’s like, instructions drawn on there. You can thank Charlie for that one.”

…

“I think I’m going to head to bed.”

…

“Fuck it, can I stay here?”

The mask still didn’t speak, but the head hidden behind it tilted a bit at the sudden change in tone. Ranboo took this as an absolute win.

“So I just. I don’t want to be by myself. And I don’t think you sleep, I mean if you just sleep when everyone else is asleep that’s cool, but also if so how do you even? function? on that much sleep? It really isn’t that much but to be fair you don’t do much so maybe you don’t need it. …do you sleep sitting up? And just somehow wake up when we get close? I know, um. Sorry about that, again, we were just worried your mask had a tracker like mine used to.”

Ran laughed nervously. “I think I did convince them that it doesn’t, so that should stop now. If um. If we make you uncomfortable you still don’t have to be touched, it’s, it’s fine.”

Other than the head tilt before, there wasn’t a reply.

“Okay, since. You can’t talk, I’m just gonna… I’ll sit down beside you. On the couch. And if you don’t want me to be that close you can uh- you can leave. Or like, get up, and then I’ll leave. This is the only room with a tv, so I’ll let you stay here, but I can’t tell if you want me to be here or not, so. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling. Just… move if you want me to leave, okay?”

Ranboo waited for a response that didn’t come, then sighed. “Okay.” He kept his hands up and open while sitting down, waiting for a few moments before tucking his feet under himself to get more comfortable. “I’m just gonna stay here, okay? Like I said, just move if you want me to leave.”

The mask had tracked them to where they sat now, but the person—C—didn’t make a move to leave. Ranboo turned their attention to the tv, keeping an eye on their couch partner in their peripheral vision. During a moment of audience laughter in the show—I Love Lucy, they remembered—C turned their head back to the television as they had been before Ranboo walked in.

Seeing as how C (they needed a better name than that—) didn’t speak, this was the closest Ranboo could get to being told “you can stay here.” So they did. A few episodes later, his head was on the arm of the couch and his eyes were closed.

Five turned its attention to the Hero, who was now asleep. He had said it was a person, which was almost hilarious. And the Taken and the Hero seemed to think it couldn’t talk? They had to know it needed to be given permission first: any handler of a Drone or Prop knew that basic rule. It would wait until permission was given: it knew how to obey. It wasn’t meant to speak to a superior unless it was told it was allowed. It would wait.

…in the meantime, it studied its handler, the Hero. The other Actors, their two other handlers, called him ‘Ranboo’ but Five knew that wasn’t his actual label. The Hero was his character in the last show, and so that is who he was. Five didn’t know if Actors had a number, but he had been called the Hero in the script, and so the Hero he will be until the script changes.

It hoped to get new instructions, a new script for itself, something, soon. It was tired of simply watching the Actors go about their incredibly off-script show. It was sometimes told to participate, and since no other superiors were nearby, it had to obey its current handlers. But it was told to participate, to stir eggs, to help clean the kitchen, to attack small webs in corners with a stick with soft spikes on the end. Those sorts of things weren’t it’s usual directive, and so it found itself…

It didn’t resent its handlers. They were doing their best, and they at least knew that they were meant to give it orders. It simply wished they were familiar orders. It wished the Hero had told it to play dead, or play chase, or play camera, or caught, or prop. It would even listen if it was told to power down until needed. At least then it wouldn’t have to be conscious in this boring and unfamiliar set.

Y EA I know they probably don’t like tvs. Shhhhhh. I didn’t think about that until like. I had already written the tv part. At this moment it is 55 minutes past th hour and I want these characters to go the fuck to sleep so I can go thr fuck to sleep /lh

And yeah Five only uses “he” for glran. That is intentional. It’ll be talked about and shit later. Something about being put into a role, something about showfall being transphobic, something something I want to go to bed

Powering down = “sleeping” for a drone. Different but similar. I’ll explain how it works later?, anyway The others hav e told Five to “sleep” but it doesn’t understand because it is only ever told to “power down” so it’s like error.sleep_not_found and it stares at them like “bitch you said the wrong. Thing. You’re supposed to know how to control me so you don’t want me to power down I fucking guess” and it’s gonna be really funny after that miscommunication is taken care of.

If you remember the Five Gets A Cold And Wants To Throw Hands With Everyone post, this is wayyy before that. These motherfuckers are fresh out of showfall. Don’t ask how they got a house. I’ll figure it out

I am! Tired! I’m not proofreading this!! Goodnight please give me your thoughts if you have them. I need to know I didn’t sacrifice tbis much sleep in vain /nf /lh (I appreciate words but you are Not required to give them. Love you have a good nigt/p)

#five the genloss blorbo #let’s not talk about how many tries it took me to spell unobserved. let’s simplynot #update like 5 years into me writing this: i also cannot spell the word peepohe it would seem #that. that was meant to be the word People. you can see m #h my point stands #it is late as fuck yet I Have to make this. it has to exist so I must make it exist #I’m hamilton writing like I’m running out of time but I’m writing g #writing 51 essays in which assorted characters get the physical and/or emotional shit beaten out of them #and me running out of time is running out of sleepy. I am a sleep y man #take a break and get away says my pillow. I am Hamilton my pillow is upstate and this goddam mess of a short story I am trying to write is M #this story is Mariah Reyndolds leading me to her bed .#I haven’t slept in a while and I’m hyperfixationed on Hamilton so that metaphor makes. 0 sense #if you’re reading this far I’m so sorry. have a cookie! and fun fact an old lady held my hand and s #she said my (Very Androgynous!!) haircut is perfect. she used those words #i almost cried right then and there. genuine compliments from people make my fucking day . ok I need to go back to editing thisthing now #I wrote it. changed a plot point. started to rewrite it. changed ANOTHER plot point #so now I’ve got several s #several layers of Oh Shit I have to untangle #im. making my own goddam escape au apparently????? it won’t make any fucking sense but I will explain it later.#and! feel free to ask questions!’ and tell me if it make’s absolutely 0 sense #I do in fact want to be able to tell the story in a way you will understand. so ask questions! give a feedback! /gen /pos #I accidentally. deleted a tag so whatever I was going to say is fucking gone now. oh I think I memerbr #they are out of character ye. I’m sleepy and I’m making their escape au up as I go.#so far I have 1) the box scene was somehow Worse #2) they kidnapped Five (yippee!)#3) Charlie is the most traumatized out of the three. I don’t. I don’t know why.#I think that’s mostly because I didn’t feel like writing a conversation between Three characters. so my brain was like this :#why isn’t Charlie here? sleeping. why are these two not including him in conversation? protectiveness.#why protectiveness? he is the most upset out of the three of them and the other two have basically taken up the caretaker role. great plan #great plan hit the showers. I have reached. max tags. shit oh well back to writing tumblr says so!

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