Happy Sunday to those who are still in Sunday, and sorry it’s Monday to those who are not.
I’m doing that thing where I’m intermittently working on every single one of my WIPs so that all I ever actually get done is a handful of scenes I’ve fixated on with no tangible thoughts on connecting them. Which is why we’ve ended up with this, my latest document in a folder that would be overflowing with disconnected pieces of this poor fic if a digital folder was capable of overflowing.
We even have some sentences, hot off the press. This is part of a scene that takes place an undetermined amount of time after a fic I haven’t even posted, but for now:
“You don’t have to keep doing this,” Baz says quietly.
“What? Kissing you?”
Baz lifts a shoulder, he tips his head into it, flicks his eyes up with the movement, and he understands why Simon does it this way so much. Sometimes it’s easier not to say it.
Simon pulls away, his hands left on the mattress halfway through a retreat he doesn’t finish. “You don’t want me to?”
Sometimes it has to be said. “You don’t have to keep trying to make me feel better.”
I have lost all perspective and don’t know what this looks like without context, but the Fic Proper is angst, and I’ve been adding a decent bit to it, so I maybe kind of hope that it won’t live in this purgatory forever.
I am massively behind in my tags so I’m wrapping all of these up in a big blanket of my affection and apologies for not being around enough to look at all of your wonderful things: @fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @whogaveyoupermission @confused-bi-queer @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @takitalks @bookish-bogwitch @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @tea-brigade @aristocratic-otter @basiltonbutliketheherb
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Hello my sweet soft trophy,
I see you are in sad girl hours and I am here to say that whilst I am all for you feeling your feelings, I will not let you put yourself down.
Every time you have graced us with a full face reveal it’s like a literal angel has appeared on my timeline. When you post pics of yourself it makes me start to believe in a creator because only some divine being could create something as beautiful as you.
You may be struggling to see the beauty in yourself right now but I guarantee there are people out there willing to give all their earthly possessions just to hold your hand.
These feelings will pass, my treasure, I promise.
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Could you elaborate why you don’t like Geisterbunker? I would love to hear your thoughts.
Meine Haupt-Klagepunkte habe ich hier vor einiger Zeit schon zusammengefasst (im letzten Reblog), zusammenfassend kann man sagen, dass mich literally alles an der Datstellung der Polizei und spezifisch der Person Lisa Merryweather aufregt. Das Cotta überhaupt für so eine kurze Zeit eine Vertretung gestellt wird, ist schon unrealistisch af, und dann diese.
Ihre ganze Art ist eine Sache (sie benimmt sich imo eher wie 17 als wie 40), dann ihre Beschreibung - Stöckelschuhe und enger Rock im Dienst??? Hallo??? Dass sie ohne Waffe losrennt???
Und wie ich in einem anderen Post gesagt habe (der diesen Ask getriggert hat, nehme ich mal an?), ich bin wirklich gerne bereit, Nevis zuzuerkennen, dass er in race Fragen deutlich sensibler und differenzierter agiert als andere DDF-Autoren (I'm looking at you, Dittert, but also pretty much everyone else), aber dafür stinkt die ganze Figur Lisa Merryweather einfach nach Sexismus. Vielleicht ist sie eine bewusste "Karikatur", bewusst überzeichnet und überkandidelt, aber das ändert eben nichts daran, dass ihre femininen Attribute direkt ausdrücklich negativen Einfluss auf ihre Kompetenz haben. Und das ärgert mich.
Oder bin ich da jetzt ein bisschen sensibel?
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:/ i wish roleplaying didnt scare the fuck outta me and make me panic. like i know the people around me would probably make accommodations/ help me deal with my anxiety by being able to tap out, break character for memes, etc etc theyre all very kind n sweet but its so so frustrating. my dyslexia, social anxieties, my general social experience is just. so incompatible with ingame rp.
it makes me sad and frustrated cause i dont know how to sort out the solution, and it feels like everyone else has such interesting dynamics with eachother & eachother's ocs. i feel like i cant participate in something that looks so so fun, i hate feeling like i cant be involved. i wish logic won out over BadBrainNoises xd
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me, staring at this fic: I could attempt to write a believable 10-year-old. OR. I could lean into the fandom characterization of ‘quirk analysis genius!!!!!’ and write an entire sequence of yeah-this-is-a-math-phys-grad-student-designing-these-tests quirk testing like I so desperately want to
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A deep breath moves through him like a sigh, and then he blinks as though coming out of a fog. When he looks at me again, his eyes are bright, like green glass in the sun. A man’s eyes shouldn’t be that expressive. It makes a woman forget to keep up her defenses.
“Stells,” he whispers, “where have you been all my life?”
A lump rises in my throat. “Drifting.”
The corner of his lip quirks. “Well, stop. Don’t drift away.”
“Okay.” It’s a croak of sound, my chest too tight for more.
His expression twists and becomes pained. “You wouldn’t be so quick to agree if you really knew what I was thinking.”
fall (vip #3) by kristen callihan - [3/5]
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