wp

Sorry, i got lost in my head 🚑 IT S FUCKING WILD IN THERE ?! I do not recommend...
ANYWAYYYYYY
archive.transformativeworks.org/works/533672...
A classic in my book.
#satosugu

I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen him with his hair fully flat like that in fan art. It actually like, made my morning.

obsessed with the wet dog look in the first panel

pj harvey would be SUCH a trip

“like it hurt him to be praised” BABE you’re writing smut so why is all the throbbing happening in my HEART

in my head he’s the sweet and earnest kid who gets excited by everything, until the world smothers that out of him and we end up with someone strictly regimented because he knows what happens if he’s not. god! gotta love jjk. so 👏 much 👏 to chew on 👏👏

oooh it’s giving punkguru 🤌🤌

what song pls

you get it ❤️❤️

What follows is a complete scene from Whoever Hears This Melody, walking through a bit of backstory to set the scene for Suguru's current mindset: Suguru had been a painfully honest child, and so for obvious reasons he’d also been a very lonely one. He’d unsettled people. No one liked the kid in the corner, warning earnestly of monsters and staring too long at shadows. He’d unsettled people, but he hadn’t known, and so he hadn’t realized that when people thought of monsters they very often thought of him. They’d stayed well away. Friendships never formed, and neighbors never lingered, but that hadn’t been so bad. Suguru had been too little to understand that he was being shunned, and he’d not realized it was strange for a child to be so often all alone. Suguru was good at being alone. He’d been an imaginative kid, curious and prone to daydreams, and there hadn’t been cause to learn the words for loneliness when he’d been so busy running about, barefoot and starry-eyed, clutching at snails and rocks and whatever else had caught his interest as he’d explored beneath the endless sky. Nor had there been cause to concern himself with the dark looks and jagged words that dogged him—for all their gentleness, his parents had been fierce when it came to defending their boy. They’d been wonderful playmates, his parents. They couldn’t see the things Suguru saw—couldn’t see the monsters in the rice paddies, or the creatures he’d scratch out in black crayon—but they loved him, and so they’d done the best they could for their strange, honest son.

Suguru’s father had taught him not to fear those lurking creatures. He’d told him bedtime stories—marvelous, sweeping tales—about beasts and demons and the brave heroes who fought them, and in the morning they’d romp about and fight monsters of their very own. They’d wave sticks and shout wildly and splash about in the garden pond, laughing and laughing, and Suguru would know that he was safe. He was safe because his father was watching over him, and his father was strong. And his mother— His mother had always been on his side. Suguru had been five years old when first he’d exorcised a curse. It had been a mucky thing, pulled from the river, and Suguru had obeyed some animal instinct and swallowed it right down. He’d come home ashen. Trembling. It hadn’t felt at all like he’d thought it might, fighting a real monster. He hadn’t felt strong like his father, or brave like the heroes in the stories. He’d just felt small. His mother had found him curled up in the bathroom. He’d tried to tell her what had happened. Tried to show her. But when the curse appeared suddenly at his side, responding to his instinctive summons and surprising him into a fit of hiccupping tears, she hadn’t been able to see. She’d believed him anyway.

She’d held him close as he shook, and she’d rubbed his back as he sicked up black water. She’d cleaned him up, after, and wiped away his tears. She’d kissed his forehead and called him sweet pea. Then she’d made him cocoa in his favorite purple mug, aglow with painted fireflies, and she’d told him he’d been brave, and that she was very proud. And she hadn’t let on that she’d been terrified. She hadn’t let on that she’d seen how the bathmat grew suddenly sodden, soaking up mud from nowhere. She hadn’t let on that she’d seen how it shifted beneath an invisible weight. She hadn’t let on that she’d believed Suguru then like she’d never been able to before, and that she’d been terrified out of her mind for her strange, honest son. She’d just tucked him into bed and sang about the stars. About bright, faraway things. And that had been enough. They had been enough. It could have been a happy childhood had things stayed just like that. But people feared what they did not understand, and people did not understand Suguru. Eventually exclusion hadn’t been sufficient for the quiet boy with the watchful eyes, and when Suguru was old enough to start grade school he began to realize that he was different, and that he was unwelcome. His classmates had been nasty, his teachers suspicious, his neighbors very cold—and Suguru, caught up among them, began to realize that he was the reason for the dark looks, the jagged words. He began to realize that he was hated. And so Suguru began to lie.

last #WIP for Whoever Hears before I move that fic to the back burner to focus on some other projects. it'll be a while before I get back to it, so here's a full scene:

#stsg #jjk #satosugu

‘Jaws’

*insert jaws theme*

What if you got caught off guard by a special grade and were saved by that guy you broke up with? He’s totally not stalking you (you’re stalking each other)

#satosugu #stsg #gojo #geto #jjk
*And so begins the secret meetings

I’ve said this elsewhere but the way you use suguru’s hair to evoke the stringiness of the flesh is just sooooo yummy (?) thank you for sharing

there’s something so beautiful about seeing that tag for tumblr saying “click for shared interests and to bond over stuff you love” and clicking brings me directly to a ribbed alien strap on (and no, I don’t know alien, which makes the implied shared interest much funnier)

hmmm a stuffy affair, take two

that ribbed worm thing looks SO pleased to be there

That they get to share a sunset together, this time 🥹 this is gorgeous, thank you for sharing

ooooh that sounds like a wonderful experience. also I love the thought of coming back to a story and falling in love with your own writing. it’s gotta be so honest for that sort of feeling, I bet

it’s the perfect time for it. all of my walking routes are decked out for halloween

oooooh 17 or 26 please 🍽️

the stress is not fun! hence allllllllll the walks

i have a feeling you could contrive some absolutely blood-curdling horror

13. Yes! I made two playlists for A Blue Peony Blooms: open.spotify.com/playlist/3dQ... and open.spotify.com/playlist/1gk...

For my current fic I have no playlists, but I've been listening to "Traust," "Spiriteaux," and "Í Tokuni" pretty much nonstop. I cannot escape.

a very atmospheric scene with horror vibes, so those long brainstorming walks happen late at night so i can properly freak myself out. yesterday a passing car made a fire hydrant throw a long, moving shadow and I jumped clear out of my skin. it was very informative and very uncool (4, end)

my process: I gotta write in the AM. After 4pm I get very stupid and very mean to myself. there are some ideas in my notes app, but otherwise all thoughts stay in my head or go on a chalkboard or an engineering pad. I brainstorm with long walks and heavy lifts. currently i'm trying to write (3)

uh, I don't really know the ending, or how to *get* to those plot points, which is what makes it fun for me and also what actually motivates me to write. with the outline I got bored and frustrated. (2)

okay now that our lines are all uncrossed and our belts still buckled

I WISH I was a planner, but I fear I'm a pantser. I tried outlining Whoever Hears, realized I was writing to the outline and hadn't any heart in it, and scrapped everything. So, no outline! I know a few major plot points but (1)

HA. Uh. Hopefully I’ll have it written by then 😅😅

I think I’ll break with my usual and try to have the whole fic written before I start publishing the next chapters.Technically it takes place around Valentine’s Day, so that’s my absolute deadline

(I assume the emotion ~they~ were feeling is very different from the things Suguru is feeling, but the idea that he loses control when his heart takes over from his head is sooooo yummy)

okay but this sounds SO COOL. and realistic. you really do start to lose your cool (and your control) when you start to get emotional. I've had a few sparring partners who were a little too into hurting the person they were fighting, and you really ~can~ feel the emotion behind their punches

32, please!

Also thank you for the game. And for the *checks notes* thirty-two new tabs I have open on my TBR fic page 😇