I don’t think people realize how freaked out fanfic readers get when their favorite author(s) doesn’t update their ongoing schedule ON TIME.
And it’s not cause we want the chapter…it’s cause we’re so fucking worried about the Author.
Like— OMG ARE YOU OKAY? YOU’VE BEEN GIVING US THE TRAGIC UPDATES OF YOUR LIFE IN THE NOTES THE PAST 10 CHAPTERS?! WHY STOP? ARE YOU DEAD? DID YOU GET STUCK IN THE WALL LIKE YOUR CAT?? HAVE YOU EATEN?? HAS YOUR BRAIN EXPLODED??
Readers no longer care about the story when they don’t get their usual update. We panic and flag S.O.S as we track down our wayward author who has been both blessed by the universe with a creative mind and cursed all the same with the worst luck.
So any authors who are reading this please understand— when we comment “hey are you okay?” in your comments. No, we are not asking about the chapter.
We are legitimately concerned for your wellbeing. Do not force yourself to shit out a chapter just to appease other ppl when you yourself are not in the mental state to enjoy it or even write it to begin with.
TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF DAMMIT
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Imagine.
You've been friends with Rise Leo for so long, that you can't seem to remember a time when he wasn't there teasing you with his signature smirk.
It was always jokes with him. Puns. One liners. Horrible cringe pick-up lines. You name it, he'd say it.
Word play was the game and boy did he know how to play. The dumber they were, the harder you laughed.
You always seemed to be laughing around him. It felt…nice. Just to be silly, let the weight of your world roll off your shoulders just for one moment.
You guessed why that's why it was so easy for you to fall into a habit of teasing him back. Y'all both just needed a reason to laugh.
But…you weren't laughing now.
There, he stood in front of you, with that signature smirk on his lips, telling you that he had feelings for you.
That he ALWAYS had feelings for you; he just never had the words for it until now.
You tilted your head at that, your brow narrowing in confusion as you began to rub a hand nervously over your arm.
So you did what you always did. What he would always do when it came to uncomfortable feelings.
You brushed it off with a laugh, missing the way Leo’s hands flexed at the sound.
You looked up at Leo with a shaky smirk, mirroring his own face, your eyebrow quirked teasingly.
“This is a joke right? I'm missing the punchline here. You've never cared about serious feelings like this before, so why start now?”
Leo’s eyes widened slightly, his stomach sinking as he watched you shake your head with that disbelieving and exasperated smile that he had come to love so much.
His hands slowly curled into white-knuckled fists as he watched you literally laugh away his confession.
You thought… you thought this was a joke. That he wouldn't take these real feelings seriously.
Leo’s gaze narrowed as his attention sharpened into focus on you.
Very well then.
Leo would show you just how serious he could be.
Imagine.
All of those jokes, all of that teasing, that ADHD intellect, that strategy, that charisma and charm directed solely on you.
Imagine.
Every comment, every look, interaction and touch becoming calculated, purpose driven and direct.
Focused. On. You.
Imagine.
Leo wanting to show you what serious intention looks like.
Because it was NEVER a joke when it concerned you.
~Ninja
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Disney SW fans who claim to love Anakin but think the Prequels suck, you're part of the problem. And the OT purists who hate the Prequels and then turn around and blame them for why Disney SW sucks...yeah, you're part of the problem too.
One of the many reasons the Disney SW 'Sequels' were so terrible and destructive was because the people making them decided to completely ignore the importance of the Prequels and reject them as an intrinsic part of the saga. And they seemed to believe they were pandering to 'what the fans wanted' by doing this. But the Prequels are half the entire story as Lucas told it, and they just threw it out the window. The Prequels COMPLETED the saga. But Disney pretended that the saga wasn't complete yet and that it was up to them to do so. Instead of just making 'interquel' material from the beginning (like Rogue One, etc), they arrogantly took it upon themselves to 'finish' a story that was already completed back in 2005. And in doing so, Disney also decided to reframe the saga into something decidedly lesser (a repetitive grimdark story where the cycle 'wasn't broken ackshually', instead of an uplifting and transcendent mythic fairytale), but one which would allow them to continue making 'new canon' material indefinitely (cause that is more lucrative for them). But the Prequels had already reframed the saga and given it a very specific meaning. Without the Prequels, ALL of Star Wars loses that meaning. And without a happy ending for the OT characters and an unequivocally positive resolution to the their storyline, the entire saga is rendered into a perpetual tragedy. So, unless and until so-called 'Star Wars fans' can acknowledge and embrace just how intrinsic the Prequels are to the fictional story they supposedly 'like', they will be running around in circles trying to blame Disney's failures on the very thing that Disney so carelessly ignored and discarded in the first place.
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gojo’s son calling him baby because he heard gojo calling you that. precious
HHHH I KNOW :(( Satoru always encourages infant babbling (speaks animatedly and listens with the same enthusiasm even when it’s just incoherent noises), and the kid has taken to incorporating some key phrases into his vocabulary—learning to ask for more when he’s hungry, asking for his dad to keep playing with him, saying “thank you” and “i love you” (Satoru’s personal favorite, because his L’s do sound a little like W’s and he coos every time)—but he’s also picking up on things you and Satoru say to eachother. So, it’s only natural that hearing his parents refer to each other as “baby,” makes the toddler believe that that’s a normal part of speech he can start saying.
The first time it happens, Satoru is coming back from work. He can hear giggling in the kitchen, and when he makes his way there he’s greeted with the sight of his son in his high-chair clapping happily as you scoop some of his dinner onto his plate. Satoru reaches to you first, and arm curling around your waist and his lips pressing to your cheek. You’re about to return the greeting when the words are spoken for you, a high-pitched and excited squeal from your toddler in place of your own voice, “Home, baby!” Satoru pauses and blinks, pointing a finger at his chest and observing as his son only grins wider, making grabby hands for his father. He repeats the phrase again, this time attempting a broken syllable version of the word “welcome,” that makes Satoru’s heart swell three sizes. He’s quick to scoop his son right out of the chair, twirl him around and press kisses to his cheek, “Missed you so much, too, baby!”
First it’s you and Satoru that get called baby as greetings, but soon it extends to other people. When Megumi comes over to babysit the following week, he’s met with excited squeals and raised arms (demands to be picked up), before his cheeks are squished between baby-sized palms and he’s formally greeted with, “Hi, baby!” The look on Megumi’s face is priceless—slightly red and embarrassed, but beyond fond—and he gives the kid a gentle pat on the head before telling him he missed him, too. When it’s time for Megumi to return home for the evening, he gets soft hugs and tired yawns, the words “Bye, Memi. Night, baby,” barely getting out.
Your son is a fast learner, it seems. He quickly realizes he can use the word outside of greetings and goodbyes, and tries it out with his uncle Nanamin the next time he’s over at his house. Nanami is leaning over the counter, watching carefully as the toddler eats his lunch. He reaches over to wipe some smeared tomato away from his mouth as he’s finishing up his food, and that’s when the baby grins at him, looking his uncle (godfather, really, but he doesn’t know that yet), right in the eye before saying, “Thank you, baby.” Kento only smiles softly, continuing to gently wipe down his cheeks, before cradling his head and musing, “You’re more than welcome.”
You and Satoru debate which one of you he’s been picking this up from. You think the obvious choice is your husband—Satoru’s always been the more affectionate one, and pet names comes easy to him. He argues that your son gets it from you, and that he listens more carefully to his mom. Your theory is proven correct when your son is curled up in your lap shortly after dinner time, hands reaching to be held against your chest and rocked to sleep. You think he’s finally dozing off when you hear a small, and tired, “‘Night, my baby,” from your toddler’s lips. You look up to Satoru, who grins, leaning down to kiss the top of his son’s head and then your forehead. He takes after this father, without a doubt; because while every body else was baby, only your boys had the honor of refer to your as their baby.
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