The Guideline - Erlandwrites - 東京卍リベンジャーズ | Tokyo Revengers (Manga) [Archive Of Our

man ive gained a new appreciation and admiration for smut writers cuz goddamn is it hard!!! (pun unintended)

like i have been edging my characters for so long because i do not know how to write sexy scenes

WRITING TIP!!!

if you're struggling to connect paragraphs, or if something doesn't feel right, or there is something that is bothering you about the way the story doesn't seem to be aligning - READ IT OUT LOUD!!!

read the entire paragraph. over and over. hell, read the whole draft, from the first page to the page you're stuck at. until you figure out what you want to happen in the paragraph, how you want it to happen, and how to word it. honest to god, it has been such a helpful little thing for me.

it also is extremely useful if the narrator has an accent or an eccentric way of speaking.

i will forever be grateful to the peoople who tell you that there are spoilers below ... you guys are the heroes we need

my self esteem so low i dont even think im good enough for my favorite fictional characters

i know this is too much to ask ... but i want the csm fandom, the jjk fandom and the tkr fandom to be bestfriends

babe wake up, keshi just dropped his debut album

'cause his hairs so short'

girl has her priorities straight

Kenma always volunteered to take the night shift with your little one.

You really didn’t mind, it was good to know that when your newborn baby would stir and cry in the middle of the night, that he was more than willing to tend to her littlest needs and biggest cries.

You had teased him, once or thrice, about this just being a cover so he could play his game all hours of the night without any scolding from you or his best friend, hiding it under a fatherly deed. Which he’d roll his eyes with a small blush and shake his head at “‘s not true, babe.”

Really, it was so he could be here like this.

Tiny hands reached up to grab at his blue-light glasses in intrigued, causing Kenma’s face to scrunch up dramatically, “yeah, I know, they were the last ones on the shelf, I already hear it from Uncle K, I don’t need to hear it from you.”

The infant merely blinks up at him. Kenma knows, deep down, that she can’t hear him, she won’t even remember the glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose come the age of two. But there’s a small part of his exhausted, imaginative brain that does convince him that she hears her dad’s gentle teasing; finds it amusing, even.

His thoughts are cut off by the sounds of her little mouth letting out strangely aggressive grunts, and Kenma can only innocently snicker at the sounds. Then, he remembers what they mean, and his face drops back down.

“Are you really popping on me?” He asks, a hand rubbing her belly. “Seriously? You couldn’t have saved that for your other parent? No no, they give you your bottle, so I get the aftermath.”

With that, he rises to his feet to bring her to the changing table, changing her diaper with only a few comments here and there- “no, seriously, how does something so small-?” and “you know, I’m doing this for you, so you better do it for me when I’m old and in diapers.”- but there’s nothing more Kenma would rather be doing. It’s his baby, his little miracle, and for all the months he feared his paternal instinct wouldn’t kick in, they were worth it when his little girl looks up at him and lets out a single, breathy laugh, and he stiffens up.

It was her first giggle.

Tears heat up the corner of his eyes and he picks his now clean baby off of the table, “y-you just laughed- oh my god, you just- you just laughed for me!”

And this is why, he thinks to himself. This is why he spends all night watching and tending to her; he doesn’t want to miss a thing when he’s at work. These are moments he’ll never get back, these small, little things that she’ll never knew even happened, but he’ll remember until the day he dies.

“I knew you thought I was funny.”

i feel like the general public forget that trauma does indeed affect the daily lives of ppl

it might be in the most loudest way but its still there

School me, home me and alone me are three different people. Don't ask me to explain, I can't.