personal writing

dear someone,

i have so many questions i want to ask you but just don’t know how. and because i know for a fact that my voice would break and tears would start streaming down my face if i were to ask you in person, i am writing you this letter. furthermore, i don’t think that you would even listen to me. these days you seem to be ignoring me as if i’m your worst enemy.

how? that would be my first question.
how was it so easy for you to go? to just leave me and not even look back.
why would you leave and why would you leave like that? no explanation. no real goodbye. nothing.
was it even real? what we had, i mean. was it? because i’ve been dreaming so much about you lately that it seems like i can’t tell what’s real and what’s not anymore.

love, i wish you didn’t shatter my heart. i wish you didn’t make all these promises just to break them. i wish that you could have been honest with me from the beginning. honest about your intentions and your feelings for me.
the last time we were standing in front of each other, looking into your brown eyes made my knees go weak and my heart beat faster. how can someone feel so much and the other just not? i guess i’ll never know because i tend to give people all of me. always. with you it was no different. i gave you all of me, made you my favourite person in this shitty world and hoped that i would be your favourite too.

but this is farewell, my love. i hope that a part of you never forgets me. no matter how important i really was to you. i hope that wherever life takes you, it takes you someplace happy. you deserve it, i’m sure of that.

Love always,

—  e.s. // dear someone.

I learned three things tonight while roaming AO3

1: I should really tag my fics properly

2: Other people need to tag their fics properly

3: If I have to spend 3 hours looking for it, I might as well write it myself


I’m experiencing an intensely difficult day/week/month/year & I wish I knew how to open up to you all about it, other than through art, but I know I’m in no way alone & that gives me strength. I can be awfully silent at times, as I tend to turn inward, but I’m always listening & we’re all in this thing together. I love you all… Truly, madly, deeply. Thank you for your support, especially when I don’t know how to ask for help & try to just brush it off. Here is a quote that always helps lift me up…

“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.” — Arundhati Roy, The Cost of Living

anonymous asked:

RE: the post about comments on fics -- how do you feel about bookmarks? I've always been shy about commenting on fic, but i always bookmark a fic i enjoy and leave a kudos if i don't. sometimes i worry about whether the authors pay attention to those things too.

I feel a lot of complicated things about kudos, bookmarks, and commenting, and I’m going to be honest about it, but I want to assure you this is not directed at you personally, it’s just my general thoughts and feelings.

Up front, I can say that authors absolutely pay attention to all forms of reader interaction, from kudos to reblog tags to literally everything. We are starving for any amount of feedback and attention and scrap of praise because they are few and far between these days. Personally, I enjoy/crave all forms of interaction with readers, because it helps me to feel less like I am just shouting words into the Void.

That being said, my feelings on Kudos are that they are basically next to worthless. Literally the only value in a kudos is that if a writer manages to somehow collect enough of them, readers sorting on AO3 by number of kudos might find their fic closer to the top of the list. If that ability to sort was not an option, I think I honestly would rather not receive a kudos at all, because JUST a kudos (again, to me) says “you fic just barely didn’t suck enough that I managed to click 1 button in return.” So like… yeah, I guess I like to receive the notifications that people read my fic, but at the same time wow is it a blow to my self esteem to be reminded people read my fic and that’s all they felt it was worth. 1 click. And the longer the fic is, the more effort I’ve put into it (for instance, 2 years of my life and 200k+ words and a LOT of love), the harder that blow strikes. It feels like having written a 200k word love letter to the fandom and just getting the “X has read your message” notification at the bottom of a text convo. (Kudos have exactly 1 merit; when I receive a notification with 1 person’s name on a bunch of my fics at once, I love that. I love knowing someone liked one fic enough to go and read the rest. That’s… that is nice. That’s when I know a kudos is not just “I read it”).

Bookmarks are slightly better, in that it at least tells me that a reader wants to be able to find the work again, hopefully to reread it. Bookmarks with notations for why the fic was bookmarked or with notations regarding what the reader needs to read to remind themselves which fic it is, are even better. Those things tell me a reader not only wants to find the fic again, but enjoyed it for X reasons. I like that. Some of my favorite bookmarks have been ones where people just added quotes of their favorite lines to the bookmarks, with nothing else added, because that tells me they liked words I wrote. I guarantee you that I go through all the bookmarks on all my fics at least once a month to look for those kinds of bookmarks.

All of that being said… I miss comments. I am not ashamed to admit this- I miss them SO MUCH. I wrote in fandom maybe a good 15 years ago, when was the big name in fic and their commenting system sucked so much but so many more people left comments without the kudos button cop-out. I remember writing back at the ends of fics because there was no reply feature on comments. I literally formed two lifelong friendships with people who regularly commented on fics I wrote. I formed several other friendships that helped me through some of the most desperately lonely and hard years of my young adulthood, all because people just commented on fics.

And that kind of community is just… so lacking in many fandoms these days. I started writing for a new, small rarepair fandom community not long ago, and I’ve been blown away by how nice folks have been in comments, and I’ve started making friends with regulars again and oh, I cannot express how nice it feels to NOT feel like i’m shouting into the void anymore. I will literally stay here forever and write a million stories for this pairing if people continue to be so kind. And I know a lot of writers can relate to that feeling (because I know a lot of writers, and they tell me so). It doesn’t take a lot for a fandom to take care of its fanfiction writers, and yet… often it’s just not happening. And we notice that, too- we notice when people don’t respond.

So, like. Yeah. This went a lot of directions, I’m sorry, you’re just the first person to ever ask me. To answer you in short, trust me, we notice when you respond to our writing in literally any way, because we are starving for it. If you bookmark things, we definitely notice it.

I’ve been having a rough day, so sorry I haven’t posted much (but at least I’m not spamming, lol)… I’ll probably be posting some later tho :)

I’d like to ask; if you like my writing - please follow my personal blog @aj-apples-write-worthy, I post some anime and writing stuff - and I’m going to post the whole first chapter of my book in a couple days :) I’d appreciate anyone who is willing to read it.

It will be an unfinished draft, but I wanted to go ahead share it as an excerpt.

Thank you all- happy Friday!

anonymous asked:

Its ur best cali gurl back@ it again!!! How ya doin?? Could i request like uh a scene or Credence looking back to his first reaction up till now on how the reader touches him Like on his arm, shoulder, etc! Your writing is great and im glad to hear you're taking care of yourself!!!

The first time your fingers graze Credence’s hand is honestly a pure accident. You both just happened to reach for the door handle to the post office at the same time. He’d startled, taking a step back, but you hadn’t minded. You’d just laughed and made some joke about door handles that he barely heard, too busy trying to stutter out an apology that you waved off. You pulled the door open and let him in first, and he found your bright energy surprisingly pleasant. You chatter away, not bothered by how quiet he is or how little he adds to the conversation.

A few weeks after that, on an afternoon trip to a grocery store, you tug on Credence’s hand. He doesn’t jerk away this time, lets your fingers linger on his knuckles for a moment as you repeat a joke. You wait for a smile, and he delivers. It’s a small grin, the best he can muster, and he worries it’s not enough, worries you’ll feel he’s not interested in your friendship, but then you light up and grin back. Relief washes over him as you continue talking animatedly, still happy to be near him. You’re becoming his lighthouse, a break in a sea of misery. He’ll do anything to avoid jeopardizing this.

The third touch comes four months after you first met. You sit in your room, holding his hand in yours, wrapping bandages over his palm, the bright expression he adores turned into nothing more than a fragile impression. He hates himself, feels the ache in his chest worsen when your voice trembles on a joke meant to lighten the room’s tension, but you shake your head when he apologizes for bringing this to you. You assure him that you’re willing to help however he’ll let you, that you’re here for him through it all. He nearly cries at this, nearly falls apart from your kindness, and you rub your thumb over the side of his hand as you keep working.

The fourth bit of physical contact between the two of you isn’t initiated by you but instead by Credence. You’re sitting on your couch, complaining about the heat outside and the day you’d had and your now-ex friend. Tears well up in your eyes as you tell him about the memories you don’t want to forget, about the way you’d thought the friendship would last. A couple of tears do fall and Credence, torn by the sight of them, reaches out, brushing the back of your hand. The gesture is one of solidarity and comfort. He’s here for you, he says in the simple touch, the same way you are for him. You swallow the knot in your throat and thank him. He says nothing, just slides his hand into yours and squeezes it every now and then when you choke up again.

He still flinches sometimes, still cringes when you move too quickly, but he no longer worries that he’ll drive you away. You seem to understand. When he complains about the pressure pushing against his ribs, you reach out to squeeze his hand. When he comes to you with tears in his eyes, you rub his back until they go away. When he smiles and murmurs a joke, you wrap your arms around his side for a hug and lean your head on his shoulder as you laugh. He commits every single moment to memory, remembers them when the pain seems like it will never end.

He remembers you as his lighthouse and every time he sees your shining smile, he thanks the stars overhead for bringing you into his life.

Dad (Underswap Fontfest) Chapter 1

Ao3 Link: Right here!

Vomiting warning, Fontcest warning, and also Approximately 30 Tons Of Domestic Fluff

Fic below cut!

Dad was throwing up again.

Sans stood on the other side of the door to his office, frozen as he listened to him heaving and gasping as his body tried to purge his own magic.  He could practically see it: the usually tall monster curled over the trash can, crying and clutching at the sides of it as black magic poured from his mouth and eyes until he either ran out of bad magic or fell to the ground in pain.

He never ran out of the bad magic.

Sans reached for the doorknob, but then stopped.  It was already past his bedtime.  If he checked up on his dad, he’d probably just get mad at him afterwards.  He always seemed just fine after he got it out of his system, anyways.  He turned and went into his and his brother’s bedroom instead.

Papyrus, his little brother, was sitting on the top of their bunk bed, reading a book.  When Sans came in, he smiled. “Hi, Sans!”

Sans fidgeted with his ID bracelet, “Hi.”

“Is something wrong?” Papyrus frowned.

“Dad’s just sick again.” he climbed onto the bottom bunk, “Hurry and finish reading, I wanna go to sleep.”

“Oh… okay…” his voice was dripping with concern, but he followed his brother’s instructions and turned off his reading lamp.  There were a few minutes of uncomfortable silence before he spoke again, “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.  He always is.”

“Right.  He’ll be fine. Goodnight, Sans.”


The next morning, Sans was woken by a knock at his bedroom door.  He worked on auto-pilot, dragging himself out of bed more out of habit than any actual desire to get up.  His dad opened the door.  He seemed okay.  Tired, but okay.

“Morning, boys.”

“Good morning, Daddy.” Sans yawned.  Papyrus suddenly sat up, somehow immediately wide awake.

“Can I help make-”

“Breakfast, yes, yes, you can help.  After you’re dressed.”

Papyrus beamed and almost jumped out of bed, but remembered to use the ladder at the last moment.  His father crouched by the brothers’ shared dresser to set their clothes out for them.  Sans sat back down on his bed to wait.  He began fiddling with his bracelet again when he noticed the strange texture.  Looking down at it, he saw that it had been chewed.  Right.  That was why he was up last night.

“Daddy? My bracelet’s ruined again…”

“Again?  Oh, son… We have to figure out just why you do that sometime.  I’ll make a new one for you after breakfast, okay?”


“Don’t worry about it, Sansy.  Just try your best to remember, okay?” He gave a tired but genuine smile as he set Sans’s clothes next to him. “I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”

Before he could leave the room, Sans quickly reached out and clutched at his white coat.

“D- Do you feel better today?”

He was quiet for a moment, but then he crouched down to Sans’s eye level.

“Yes, a little bit.  Thank you for being concerned, son.”


Papyrus was getting out of bed.  The movement stirred Sans awake, pulling him out of his dream-like memory.  Why was he getting up?  It was so early…

Once his sleepy daze cleared up, he quickly noticed that it was because Hailey was crying.  He sat up, concerned.

“sorry, sans, didn’t mean to wake you. they’re just hungry, ‘s all.”

“No, no, that’s fine.” He turned the bedside lamp on.  Papyrus sat back in bed next to Sans, cradling the babybones in his arms. “Was having a bad dream anyways.”

“again? what was it this time?” Papyrus asked as he removed his shirt to feed Hailey.

“Just… memories. With Dad.”

Papyrus gathered Hailey up in one arm and held Sans’s hand with the other.  Sans smiled sadly as he watched Hailey eat.

“What would he think of us now… God, he’d be so disturbed.”

“would he? he loved us. i’m sure he would’ve tried his best to understand. and he’d adore hailey-bailey. probably even more than we do.”

“Psh, as if.  That’s not even possible.”

Papyrus chuckled as he moved Hailey over his shoulder, patting their back firmly.  Once he heard their tiny burp, he wrapped them up in their little baby blanket.  He gently rocked them to help lull them to sleep and to settle their stomach.  Sans’s soul melted a little as he watched his mate.  He was such a good father.

He watched as the other slowly stood and set their sleeping child back in their crib, only a few feet away from their bed.  Papyrus stayed there for a moment, smiling and gently brushing his hand over Hailey’s delicate skull. “now stay asleep, ya little creature.”  Sans almost laughed aloud, but quickly stifled it, settling on a good-natured glare in Papyrus’s direction.  Papyrus grinned and laid back in bed while Sans turned the lamp back off, making the room dark and peaceful once more.

Once Sans had shuffled back into a comfortable sleeping position, Papyrus quietly whispered, “i love you.”

“I love you, too. Good night.”


Papyrus glanced over at Hailey for the 20th time during breakfast.  They were sitting in their high chair, kicking their legs and tossing their puffy snacks everywhere.  He sighed and turned the bacon over in the pan, sneaking another look at the pancake batter a few inches away, which wasn’t quite bubbling yet.  He did some quick mental math and decided to take a risk.  He had about 30 seconds before the batter would need flipping, a few more before he should check on the bacon…

Quickly, he bolted across the kitchen to the fridge, swung it open, located the orange juice, and retrieved it.  On the way back, he snagged Hailey’s sippie cup and filled it with the leftover formula he had prepared earlier.  He made it back to the stove and nearly panicked as he worked the spatula under the half-cooked pancake.  He held his breath in suspense.

Perfect golden brown.  Another sigh of relief.  He checked on the bacon and tried to uncurl a few edges so that it would cook more evenly.  He turned back around to look at Hailey again.

“y’know, hailey-bailey, if this is the most exciting my life is gonna be from now on, i think i’ll be able to live with that.”

Hailey looked their father straight in the eye as they pushed their sippie cup off the high chair.

“okay then, guess you have other plans.”  He bent down to grab the cup. Luckily, in his panic, he’d managed to seal it well enough to prevent total mayhem.

“I heard something fall! Is everything okay in there?” Sans called from the living room.

“yep, just a sippie cup, no mess. pancakes will be ready soon.”

Sans came into the kitchen dressed in the uniform he got from Muffet.  It was fairly simple: a pastel purple button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, plain black dress pants, and a dark purple apron with her cafe’s logo and his name tag on it.  As soon as he saw the state of the kitchen, he got on his knees.

“No mess? Are you totally blind?” Sans joked as he bent over to pick up the uneaten puffy snacks.

“well, i mean. no liquid mess. the food mess is inevitable.” Papyrus turned off the heat for the bacon and pulled it onto a plate with paper towels to soak up the extra grease, “oh, they’re not done ‘eating’ yet, so don’t bother cleaning up. i’ll take care of it once you head to work.”

“Oh. In that case…” Sans stood up and dropped all the puffs he had already picked up, sending them scattering even further than before.  Hailey laughed.  Papyrus glared.

         “okay, i take it back. i’m not cleaning up anymore.”

         “Pff, alright, alright, I’ll do it, I was just joking! Focus on breakfast, I’ll take care of this disaster.” Sans bent back down.

         Papyrus smiled and turned back to the stove, taking the final cooked pancake out of the pan and flipping it onto a plate. He turned off the other burner and moved to the cabinet to take out the toppings.

         “chocolate chips, yeah?”

         “Yes, please!”

         “any other requests?”

         “Whipped cream..?” Sans glanced up hopefully.

         “just a little.”  He closed the cabinet and opened the fridge again, “i hope hailey doesn’t have the same sweet tooth you do. ‘s probably not the healthiest.”

“I exercise! And a couple chocolate chips won’t kill them! Unless they’re allergic or something.”

“they might be. google says not to feed babies chocolate. ya never know.” Papyrus popped open the whipped cream can and started shaking it.

“Are we gonna get all our parenting advice from Google?” Sans stood up and dropped the puffy snacks into the garbage can.  When he turned around, Hailey was looking at him.  He smiled.

“better than not getting any at all. if you’ve got a more credible source, i’m all for that.”

“True, that’s true. Just try cross-sourcing.”  Sans took Hailey out of the high chair and held them close to his body.  He started cooing at them, “Only the best for our little Hailey-Bailey.”

“of course i’ve been cross-sourcing, you don’t need to tell me to- god, we’re the nerdiest dads ever.”

“Hey, years of working in Research and Development will do that to you.”

“guess so. pancakes are ready.”

Sans nearly gasped at the display of his breakfast, “He’s done it again, Hailey.  Perfect presentation.” They made a sound that was almost like cheering.  Sans sat them back in their high chair, allowing them to resume making a huge mess of the floor. “But how does it taste..?”  He made a grand gesture as he sat in his chair, sitting like he thought a judge on a cooking competition would.  Papyrus grinned and chuckled before copying his movements, setting the plate on the table.

He put on a silly, mock-sophisticated voice, “today, i’ve prepared some classic pancakes. the toppings are whipped cream, semi-sweet mini chocolate chips, and homemade maple syrup. enjoy.”

Sans’s motions flourished again as he made a grand moment out of picking up his fork and taking a bite, “Mmm! So fluffy and sweet!!” He quickly abandoned the act as he dug in, savoring each bite.  When he finished the first pancake, he turned to Hailey. “What about your dish, hm?”

“Ah.” They swiped their hand along the surface of their high chair, sending a hailstorm of puffs everywhere. “Muh.”

“Now, I don’t think you used any of the required ingredients. Sorry, Hailey, guess you’re not cut out to be a chef.”

“turn in your apron, kiddo.” Papyrus reached behind their neck and tore the velcro keeping their bib attached.  He swept the remaining snacks into his hand and tossed them into the trash, too, before handing them a toy to play with.  Then, he sat across from Sans as he finished his breakfast.

“One great chef is all we need.” Sans winked.

Papyrus laughed and brushed off the compliment, but he blushed. “thanks, hun.”

They sat and held hands for a few moments before a knock at the door caught their attention.

“Uh, I’ll get it.  I need to leave soon, anyways.”

“m’kay.  lemmie know who it is.”

Sans stood up again and walked into the living room.  The monster outside knocked again, more urgently this time.  Was something wrong?  Sans hurried to open the front door.

The cold of Snowdin blew in through the wide open door, barely blocked by the tall, skinny monster at the door.  He was wearing a dark grey turtleneck sweater and black pants, along with a horribly abused white lab coat.  He seemed nervous- he was stiff and was fidgeting with his hands, but they were slightly hidden by the sleeves of his sweater.

Sans knew this monster.  Somehow.  But his face gave it away instantly.

He was a skeleton. However, he was slightly… off.  He had no soul-shaped nose hole, and there were two strange markings beneath his eyes, running down his face like tear tracks.  Like that black magic.

Sans was silent at first, stunned, trying to process what was in front of him.  Finally, he slowly opened his mouth to actually speak to the guest.


tag yourself

a. a gentle soul with big dreams. tending to be melancholic, they can be sensitive and highly emotional, loosing themselves in their own imagination.

b. highly independent and ambitious, they have a clear idea of their goals and priorities in life. always analyzing their surroundings, they are very private, not sharing their deep inner emotions.

c. beams of sunlight, radiating positive energy. kind-hearted, they tend to put others’ needs before their own. the best friend one could hope for.

d. curiosity is their main drive in life. seeking to discover everything this world has to offer, their natural love of learning ignites a strong passion. you find them staying awake at night, fully consumed by their topic of interest.

e. full of ideas and creativity, they seek to make, to transform their thoughts into art and poetry, into beautiful phrases. prone to sometimes being anxious, especially around new people.