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heyitsjay03 · 1 year
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okay sooo
two things:
1. chapter one of everything is dying was my 100th post on this blog so thats actually amazing
and 2. we reached???? 200????? followers!??!?!?!?!!!
how can i ever thank you guys for being here to read my stuff oh my god 
i love you guys so much :’)))))
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heyitsjay03 · 1 year
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Everything is Dying (But You’re Still Here); Chapter One: The... Last...? Grimes
A/N: Whew.
My humblest and most deep apologies for how long this took. I had some stuff come up that got in the way (cough midterms cough cough) and also work and relationship stuff (or lack thereof lmaooooo) but I’m here, this chapter is out and I can sleep well now that I’ve gotten it out. I hope you all enjoy!!! <3
TW: canon-typical violence, swearing, mentions of death, it’s the end of the world
I do not own nor claim to own TWD, AMC, or any of their characters or plotlines. The only character and plotline I claim are my own- this is purely a work of fanfiction. 
   I get why that Tom Hanks guy lost his mind and started talking to volleyballs when he got stranded on that island. 
   I’m not planning on losing it anytime soon- or at all- but I’m starting to seriously see the appeal of carrying around a little basketball friend. Just something to have around, something that I can talk to. I’m just pretty sure my vocal chords are falling apart in my throat. 
   It’s got to have been a few months since I left the last settlement I was at- that was the last time I remember talking. 
   Jesus. 
   Staring down my outstretched legs across the room, I sigh. Past the dirtied pair of boots I’m wearing is a pile of supplies that’s slowly but surely withering away. Ammo’s been good- thank the gods- but food and water are another thing entirely. 
   If I’m going to make this shitty house my home for a while, I’m gonna need a more stable source of food. 
   Another sigh. 
   I push off the wall and onto my feet, dusting off the back of my legs. Pulling the tattered map from my back pocket, I roll my shoulders back. 
   I miss my massage therapist in California. 
   The little red and green lines blur against the yellowing background of the map. One corner is singed- it was a really cold couple of weeks a month ago. There’s a water stain that makes another corner unreadable. 
   …I need a new map. 
   My eyes scan over the various town names until I find the general area that I’m in. Turning the map around, there’s a list of towns with various businesses and amenities listed under each town. My little town has been mostly tapped- save for a small plant nursery a couple of miles out. 
   If I want to have a reliable source of food, it’s worth a shot. 
   Just a couple miles- should be safe… ish. 
   The rotter group I encountered when I first left the settlement keeps circling the area but they should be on the opposite end of their little cycle by now. It’s been relatively clear around here- no people, no rotters. 
   In and out, just a couple miles, just a couple hours. 
   I’ll be fine.
   My fingers tap on the pistol that lay against my thigh. The other holder on my holster has a thick bucknife I found in an ammo shop that had almost been completely picked clean. My two best friends. 
   My eyes narrow. 
   Leaving my supplies out like this is risky. If anyone passes by, they could rob me of a couple weeks worth of food and a few days worth of water. 
   I pick up the tattered green duffel I keep next to my ‘bed’ (a ratty old mattress with a dusty blanket) and start loading up the various cans and bottles. There’s a loose floorboard in the kitchen- if I put it there and someone takes it, it’s the universe’s will. 
   My fingers wedge their way between the loose floorboard and the others. The wood cuts into my skin as I pry the board loose. I let out a little hiss of pain, massaging my raw fingers as I kick the bag into the small space under the floorboards. Using my foot, I slide one end of the board back into place and stomp the other end in. 
   I sigh, rolling my eyes as my head falls back.
   Time to go. 
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   The nursery is covered in thin, lush vines that branch out like veins from a broken pane of the greenhouse’s glass. They reach out and blanket the entirety of the right side of the building. There’s a couple of dust-clouded windows beside a rotting red door. 
   I tug my knife out from its holster. Tapping the edge on the glass, I wait. 
   Listen. 
   Hope. 
   …
   Nothing. 
   I reach back, pulling out my flashlight. Clicking it on, I press the pads of my fingers against the door. It creaks open like a damn horror movie, revealing the nursery’s dark innards. 
   My flashlight sweeps the inside- the entirety is almost completely visible. Small place. I hope it’s not cleared out. 
   The inside is only slightly trashed. Various tools are obviously missing- pruning and hedge shears, gardening forks, axes are gone. Scythes and rakes, too. 
   A small laugh passes my lips. Imagine carrying around a scythe, swinging it around at rotters like the Grim Reaper. 
   …
   That’s kind of badass, I take it back. 
   I step into the nursery, moving my flashlight from the wall opposite me to the one to my right. There’s an archway encased in glass that leads out to the greenhouse. Stepping over bags of fertilizer and some mushrooms growing from a hole in the corner, I make my way into the greenhouse. 
   Small trees are growing under the hole in the glass. A littering of bushes and shrubs grow beneath them and spread the entirety of the greenhouse. Fruit dangle from some of the bushes and trees. Flowers and weeds intermingle with the crops. Muted streams of sunlight pass through the yellow-green glass, bathing everything in a soft glow. 
   This is the most peaceful place I’ve been in…
   A while. 
   A very long while. 
   I’ll clear the back room and I’ll load up on supplies. 
   It’s cold in the nursery and smells of mildewed wood and old fertilizer. Overhead, the roof lets out a low croak. My eyes flick up. The ceiling is sagging, water droplets dripping down from the center of the ‘sag’. 
   …
   Gross.
   I sigh, looking back down and minding my step as I round the cashier counter. There’s another door just behind it- probably a small office or a stockroom. This place isn’t that big. 
   I put the flashlight in my mouth, facing towards the door. One of those weird textured glass windows is in the door but I can’t make out anything besides light and shadow. 
   The toe of my shoe taps against the corner of the doorframe. Knife gripped in my hand, I wait. 
   Listen. 
   Hope. 
   …
   The shuffle of feet and a low groan make their way towards the door. A shadow crowds in front of the window- it looks like just one. One rotter in this entire place…?
   What a damn score. 
   The rotter starts to push up against the door. It creaks open and the rotter stumbles in front of me. It looks at me, teeth bared and arms starting to outstretch. 
   It doesn’t get to fully extend its arms before my knife is plunged into its skull. Yanking my knife back, I pull the blade from its skull. The body slumps lifelessly against the wall, bleeding from the hole in its head. 
   I peek around the corner of the doorway, knife held tight. It’s a long-but-small room with a couple of mostly-empty shelves sitting beside a computer desk. An old bedspread lay beside the shelves- splattered with brown-red blood. Nothing else. 
   My eyes turn to the rotter that’s still slumped against the wall. 
   Two large bites- one on its neck and one on its arm- are visible. He must’ve decided to stay in bed while he…
   His skin is grey and loose on his bones, eyes yellowed and gaunt. He’s been dead for a long time. 
   …
   I’ll end up the same way if I don’t bring this stuff back home. 
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   A couple of lightweight plastic planters- one stuffed full of previously-packaged soil, a handful of seed packets, and a few different tools- in my arms, I shift my backpack as it sits on my shoulders. The weight of the fruit I managed to cram in there is awkward and the bumps dig into my back. 
   It’s food. And I’m almost back. 
   The weight is almost completely nonexistent in my arms- today was a good day. Food for the next couple weeks in fruit alone, if I can get it dried out on the roof properly. And a supply for even longer should I still know how to take care of plants like I did before my life ended. 
   Let’s hope those gardening videos I used to watch stuck. 
   Today was a good day. 
   My feet crunch in the leaves beneath my feet- autumn is coming, the trees starting to grow barren above me. The weather’s getting colder. I’m hoping whoever lived in this house I’m in right now paid good money for their insulation. I’ll have to keep an eye out for more blankets and mattresses- maybe I can barricade the doors and windows with them to keep out the cold. And the plants can be moved inside if it starts to get ready to snow. 
   Whatever happens will happen. 
   I’ll figure it out- just like always. 
   The house starts to form in front of me, the image of it broken by the thin dark streaks of trees. I drop the plastic planters at the base of the small stairs leading up to the doorway. A step up is a thin piece of fishing line. 
   Just another precaution. 
   Learned it from when I went on a run and came back to a house full of rotters. They had come and managed to get into the back door, swarming the inside. 
   Lost a good amount of supplies that day.
   But you live and you learn, I guess. 
   The line runs the length of the stairway unbroken. 
   Good. No unexpected guests. 
   I go back, lugging the planters up the stairs and into the house. A quick look around and I can see nothing’s disturbed. 
   Even as I yank the plank up from the floorboards, my supplies are tucked neatly and snugly inside.   Putting the plank back down, I smile to myself and settle into the corner of the living room with the fruit piled at my feet and my knife ready to cut into them. 
   A good day. 
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   I’m jerked awake by the sound of…
   Of something. 
   My eyes, still heavy and lined with sleep, start to sweep around my surroundings. It’s dark out now- I can’t tell if it’s nearing dawn or just past dusk. The trees surrounding the house are dark, the sky purple and clouded. 
   Crawling to the window facing the street, I sit with my back to the wall. Pulling out my knife, I peek over the edge of the windowsill into the street. 
   …there’s a car now. Across the street, a new car. Two barren trails in the fallen leaves lead right to it- tire tracks from its journey.
   Jesus, fuck.
   My mind is an explosion of swear words, of damnations, and of curses as I watch the car. There’s supplies crowded into the backseat- I can’t see any movement or anything. 
   Fuck.
   Wait-
   …wait, wait, wait. 
   …what is that?
   Something’s in the bushes… 
   I lean forward, breath slightly fogging up the glass as my eyes lock onto the rustling bushes across the way. 
   A flash of fabric against the darkened leaves- but only for a moment. 
   Maybe if I just-
   A creaking floorboard echoes out from behind me. 
   I spin around, gun now un-holstered and drawn.
   Two inches from the bridge of my nose is a…
   Crossbow. 
   If I get taken out by some Robin Hood-ass wannabe, I’ll never forgive myself. 
   “Who the hell are you?” 
   My eyes focus on the man standing in front of me- tall, broad-shouldered, blanketed in dirt, darkish hair. His teeth are gritted, eyes staring down at me. 
   “Who the hell are you?” I snip back, eyes narrowing up at him.
   He gestures to the gun in my hand with a curt nod. “Put it down.”
   I shake my head, “Not ‘til you get the fuck out of here.”
   “Put the gun down!” he snaps, crossbow now almost pressing against my forehead.
   My stomach twists as I shake my head again. 
   Is this it…?
   Shot dead by Robin Hood just when life was starting on the upswing. 
   “What is it?” Another voice hisses from down the hall- Friar Tuck or Little John, I assume.
   “Glenn!” The man in front of me hisses back, “Get in here!”
   A thin, dark-eyed man with black hair stumbles into the living room, a pistol in his hand. We make eye contact and he visibly cringes. “...dammit,” he mumbles, hurrying back out of the room. 
   The man’s focus is back on me, staring me down the sight of his crossbow. “Got more people than you,” he mutters, “Best put that gun down.” 
   “So you can rob me easier? Kill me easier? Which is it?”
   “Depends on if you’re stupid ‘r not.”
   His voice is firm- not threatening, not perverse, firm. His eyes are even more so. A tense warning glimmers behind his eyes. He’ll shoot to kill, I know from the finger grazing the trigger of his crossbow. 
   I just don’t know if he wants to or not.
   “Daryl, what’s goin’ on?” 
   Yet another voice from the hall. 
   “We ain’t alone,” ‘Daryl’ calls back. 
   Glenn appears in the doorway, worry etched on his face as his eyes flick from me to Daryl. “...they’re in here.”
   Someone new steps into the shadow of the doorway. Daryl’s grip tightens on his crossbow as he presses it up against my temple. “Drop the gun,” he hisses again. 
   My eyes flutter closed. 
   A deep breath fills my lungs. 
   I shake my head, “No.”
   I’ve spent far too much of my time on the road imagining what death would be like. A cold snap that echoes throughout your body before you’re enveloped in pure, white light. Maybe a burn that eats away at your skin in mere moments before you’re waking up like from a nightmare- greeted by the faces of those gone before you. 
   Mom, Dad, Carl. 
   Their faces engulfed in light, bodies enwrapped in clean, willowy linens. 
   “Y/N?”
   I can hear Dad’s voice already. 
   It’s time. 
   “Y/N?”
   There’s a clatter before someone takes me by the shoulders. 
   My eyes shoot open, arms coming up to defend myself as the grip on my shoulders tightens slightly. “Get the fu-” my words drop like lifeless flies from my mouth as I realise who it is that’s holding me. 
   “...Y/N…” 
   “...Dad…?”
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Taglist: 
@thefemininemystiquee​
@feral-ratatattat-king​
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heyitsjay03 · 1 year
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Can't wait to read more of your twd story!
AHH thank you anon!!!
im so happy its getting such a positive response :)))
currently around 4k words into the first chapter so it should be out soon!!
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heyitsjay03 · 1 year
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Prologue: The Last Grimes
I was twenty-three years old when my life ended.
When the world ended, really.
But really, that was when my life ended.
I had everything- everything- going for me.
I moved out of my small town, out of my parents’ house. Moved cross country to a cute little beach town in Southern California. Started going to college- I was going to be a veterinarian. A zoo vet, specifically. Work with big cats- maybe switch it up and work with marine animals. I had an internship at a beautiful zoo just a little ways down the street from my house. The doctors said Dad’s charts were on the upswing, that we had a chance again. I had a great group of friends- sisters, more like. Three of us all living in this adorable beach house just a walk away from the shore.
I had everything going for me.
And then the news stories started circulating.
At first, it was some random, crazy, tabloid-esque articles I would read to my housemates as we drank cabernet on the porch overlooking the beach. Just… crazy stuff. Stuff you could only dream of. Stuff that you didn’t- you couldn’t- believe. And it was always ‘it’s only in Europe’, ‘only in Asia’. It was always far enough away that it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t happening.
Until it wasn’t.
The school closed. My job shut down. The country was on the brink of losing their collective minds.
The girls were scared- they took off to be with their families. Begged me to go with them, to go to the valley. It was quieter, safer than the coast. They had people there, ones we could trust. Ones that would help keep us all safe.
But I had to go home.
So I got the last of my emergency funds together, bought the last ticket to Georgia, packed up what I could and I told my family I would be coming home.
I didn’t make it in time.
The airport security forced us to stay in the terminals. We weren’t allowed to leave. Claimed they ‘needed additional time’ to set up a more rigorous health screening area before we could leave. But they never got it set up.
It was on the fourth day when the dead broke through.
Chaos.
That was the only word I could use to describe what happened next.
Chaos. It was just… it was just pure chaos.
I only barely escaped. Bleeding, tired, unarmed- I managed to claw my way out of the airport. Out one of those big glass windows that overlook the tarmac, actually. Took a chair and broke it open, risked the jump and ran.
I can still hear the screams of the people that didn’t land the jump.
And the ones being ripped open by those…
Those things.
The news outlets had different names for them. ‘The infected’, ‘the reanimated’, ‘the dead’- everyone had their own names for them. There were two things they seemed to agree on- the things are dangerous and they are so vile they didn’t have a word to accurately describe them.
I call them rotters. Or zombies. …but does it really matter?
They’re dead. They kill you if they bite you. They’re dangerous in groups. They’re attracted to sound. They’re only killed by a headshot. That’s all that matters. Call them whatever you want. It doesn’t matter anymore.
What matters is keeping away from them, keeping away from any unfriendly types you encounter on the roads, keeping yourself fed and sheltered. Keep moving. Always keep moving.
I’ve been moving from place to place for a year now- I think. It feels like a year. Pretty sure it’s been a year.
The first place I went to after the airport was my parents’ house. Stole one of cars parked in the airport lot and took off. When I got there, the street was lined with rotters. Fifteen or sixteen, I think. I went a little ways back down the street, set off a car alarm. They shuffled towards the noise and the way was cleared.
But when I got inside, everything was cleared out. Photos, food, water, clothes- everything except mine and Dad’s stuff was taken. My room was virtually untouched- save a few photos off the walls. If it wasn’t for how many rotters kept passing through, I would’ve stayed.
I don’t know where I went next, I just went. Followed road signs, whispers by the campfire of the newest ‘safe place’, my stomach. The wind took me wherever it wanted and for the most part, it did alright by me. I would join a few people every now and then. Most of them were good folks- only to be taken by the rotters. The others…
The others I watched turn.
Not into rotters, no.
They turned callous and cruel. Just as bad as the people I would hide from when we were on the road.
I would always slip out before they had the chance to stop me. Just me, no one with me. It’s always easier to run alone. One mouth to feed, one person to arm, one person to worry about.
If you die alone, no one mourns you.
You just… become one with the earth- like nature intended. No one needed to write your epitaph, line your headstone with flowers.
Like they would even know what to put.
‘Here lies Y/N Grimes, unknown year-unknown year; she was fast but the rotters were faster’?
Things like mourning don’t exist anymore. Things like the ‘before’ don’t exist anymore.
There’s just the dead and surviving.
Those are the only two things that exist anymore.
That’s why I’m holed up in this old house. A stockpile of supplies- canned food, some water bottles, a couple cases of ammo- in the corner. A dusty blanket on an old mattress under the window. Boards on the windows, the doors except the front door and the back. The car parked out beside the porch awning, the window overlooking the awning always open in case I need to make a run for it.
Because surviving is the only thing I care about anymore.
Because hoping for or caring about anything else is stupid. A waste of time, of effort and resources. Because it either breaks your heart or gets you killed.
Because my dad, my mom, my little brother- they’re dead. Looking for them like I did was a waste of time. It almost got me killed- more times than I can count.
I’ve made my peace with it.
I’m the last of my family. I’m alone. And that’s okay. I won’t have to watch them be ripped apart in front of me. That’s a win in my book. I’ve seen enough people I care about die like that. I don’t think I could bear watching my family die like that.
So I keep fighting, keep moving. Keep scavenging, hoping for something better with every new settlement I come across. Keep staying alive because they couldn’t.
I’m a Grimes. The last of my kind. And I won’t let us go extinct.
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heyitsjay03 · 1 year
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hey so uhh long time no see
i wish i could say i had anything really dramatic or insane happened to me to make me disappear for so long but really nothing happened. life happened i guess. i just had other things i needed to do
im like the coryxkenshin of tumblr oh my god
but im here now!
ive been writing some stuff and i think im gonna come back!
i wont speak on the scheduling of releases because o say one thing and then i dont ever follow it but i am gonna be posting again
i actually have a post teasing a new series im doing (while working up the nerve to restart doing the last series i started on here) and it should be released around 1 pm pst
i hope yall enjoy!! i missed you :)
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heyitsjay03 · 2 years
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Deadass thought that was Connor at first
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heyitsjay03 · 2 years
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i forgot to mention!! this will all go into effect after december!! i want to spend this last month getting myself ready for my new schedule and i also want to spend the holidays not rushing to get something halfassed out! i hope you understand!! <3
hi.
so. here i am!! im alive!
this year has been crazy and yeah ive made a lot (A LOT) of posts like these but i think this one will stick a little better.
i got my very first job- and am quitting fairly soon- and in the short time ive been there ive realised how much i love writing and this blog and everything regarding my (creative) work.
i also have realised how much ive lowkey squandered this blog. 
so im now posting a schedule for every one of my followers (and any other unfortunate soul stumbling onto this)
i will post at least once a week while alternating book(s) and headcanons/requests (ie fighting for tomorrow will be posted on the first and third weeks of the month while the second and fourth weeks are dedicated to me fulfilling requests)
these chapters for the fighting for tomorrow will end up being shorter but more frequent- so no more 10k word works you guys have to wait like 4 months for!!
i also will start redoing the look of my blog!!! i wont be focusing on any specific fandom or anything- im going to just redo it so it is purely My Blog and not an aot blog or other fandom blog. there is nothing wrong with doing a blog like that but i feel weird posting other fandom stuff on a blog that looks specific to aot or harry potter or whatever it may be.
i really do appreciate you guys still liking and reblogging my stuff and sending in requests so i want to say thank you and i hope i continue giving out content you think is worthy of your time.
i love each and every one of you guys with every ounce of me because youre all helping me get closer to my dream and i cannot put into words what that means to me.
thank you and i cannot wait for this next chapter of my life.
with love,
your jen <3
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heyitsjay03 · 2 years
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hi.
so. here i am!! im alive!
this year has been crazy and yeah ive made a lot (A LOT) of posts like these but i think this one will stick a little better.
i got my very first job- and am quitting fairly soon- and in the short time ive been there ive realised how much i love writing and this blog and everything regarding my (creative) work.
i also have realised how much ive lowkey squandered this blog. 
so im now posting a schedule for every one of my followers (and any other unfortunate soul stumbling onto this)
i will post at least once a week while alternating book(s) and headcanons/requests (ie fighting for tomorrow will be posted on the first and third weeks of the month while the second and fourth weeks are dedicated to me fulfilling requests)
these chapters for the fighting for tomorrow will end up being shorter but more frequent- so no more 10k word works you guys have to wait like 4 months for!!
i also will start redoing the look of my blog!!! i wont be focusing on any specific fandom or anything- im going to just redo it so it is purely My Blog and not an aot blog or other fandom blog. there is nothing wrong with doing a blog like that but i feel weird posting other fandom stuff on a blog that looks specific to aot or harry potter or whatever it may be.
i really do appreciate you guys still liking and reblogging my stuff and sending in requests so i want to say thank you and i hope i continue giving out content you think is worthy of your time.
i love each and every one of you guys with every ounce of me because youre all helping me get closer to my dream and i cannot put into words what that means to me.
thank you and i cannot wait for this next chapter of my life.
with love,
your jen <3
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heyitsjay03 · 2 years
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heyitsjay03 · 2 years
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hey guys!! jen popping here to say
ITS WRITING NOOKS BIRTHDAY!!
exactly one year ago today i made this account and it has blown up way further than id ever hoped it would! thank you all for supporting me and my posts and i hope youll continue to see me through like you have.
happy birthday writing nook!! and thank you again to my loves <3
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heyitsjay03 · 3 years
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haha totally not for me haha 🧍🏽‍♀️
tips for writing Star Wars fanfic/Star Wars roleplay things
it’s not concrete; it’s duracrete
viewports are the windows on ships
not a plane; ship or speeder
it’s not steel; it’s durasteel
books are rare; holorecords or datapads
it’s not a glass pane it’s transparisteel
caf is the equivalent of coffee
it’s not paper it’s a flimsi
medcenter is a hospital
Star Wars can be very similar to things we’re already used to, but getting familiar with some of these terms can make your writing really fit in with the universe
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heyitsjay03 · 3 years
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^^^the ramblings of a fool i shouldve known crazy mfs like me are still out there
is the lotr fandom still active on this site?? like if i were to say the magic words "hey request lotr stuff" will they crawl out from the depths or am i doomed to a life of loneliness here
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heyitsjay03 · 3 years
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ALSO HOLY SHIT
WE REACHED 115 FOLLOWERS?!?!?! SCREAMING RN BRB
Thank you guys so freakin much like i never thought i’d be a person with anything more than 10 followers so this is insane. thank you guys so much :’)
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heyitsjay03 · 3 years
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holy shit
literally am never going to doubt the lotr fandom ever again like wow
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heyitsjay03 · 3 years
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is the lotr fandom still active on this site?? like if i were to say the magic words "hey request lotr stuff" will they crawl out from the depths or am i doomed to a life of loneliness here
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heyitsjay03 · 3 years
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is-
is this about me????
REBLOG if you have amazing, talented WRITER friends.
Because I certainly do, and I love every single one of them and their work.
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heyitsjay03 · 3 years
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When’s the next update for Fighting For Tomorrow? The story is so addicting ❤️❤️❤️
thank you so much!! i did put FFT on hiatus but i am excited to say that i will be sending out a chapter soon :) exact dates are hazy but i can say i will be working on it soon!
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