On Hiatus, I love you all!

Thank you for all your support, I love you all very much!

[nyan-tries-to-write]

~𝓝𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷~

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝒶𝒻𝑒! 𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎!

𝓑𝓲𝓸

Hello! My name is Nyan! (she/her pronouns) Pronounced with one syllable! My main blog is nyantodamax145, so if you see that blog replying to you, that’s me!

I used to be known as bokunowriteracademia, so if my work seems familiar, that’s why! 

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓎! 𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝒷𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒷𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝒻𝑒 𝓇𝓊𝓁𝑒𝓈! ♥

ON HIATUS!

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓰 𝓡𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓼

Please no NSFW! This is a strictly SFW blog!

Be kind to everyone! Don’t be mean for the sake of being mean

My askbox is ALWAYS open for chats!

Please do not repost any of the art that I post here without my permission!

If you are a Youtuber who does Fanfiction Readings, please DM me for permission with your channel name and which fanfiction you’d like to cover! I’d love to see it!

Finally, stay hydrated!

( ´ ∀ ` )ﾉ 𝒪𝒽! 𝒟𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇? ♥

𝓞𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 (𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽) 𝓡𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓼

No NSFW requests!

Please do not mix fandoms, it makes tagging difficult;; For example, don’t request Bakugo and Diluc in the same request!

I write for everyone in Genshin Impact!

I write for everyone in MHA except for Mineta and Endeavor

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ 𝒪𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊? 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈!

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓼

MHA Masterlist

Genshin Impact Masterlist

[ad-wills]

[americanpi]

@aeroargonic @nyantodamax145

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

i’m putting together a little list of the short creative writing i’ve written for tumblr. so far i’ve got: april fool’s door saga, Don’t Touch The Pink Stuff, clown meat deli dream, tupperware dream, grinch x tony the tiger fic, scuba horror story, cabin in the words horror story, atheist afterlife, Arcady the Vampire, and my tip jar if you enjoy my writing and want more. am i forgetting anything?

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

thank you for the reminders, i really need to keep better track! ‘make this creepy’, psychic murder gerbil, do we have any homework?, monster under the bed, unreality prompt, accidental kidnapping. anything else?

(also yes the April Fool’s & Pink Stuff Incident were real things that happened, i just retold them in my signature unreasonably-dramatized style)

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

#tip me if u like my content bc sadly i require money to exist in this capitalist hellscape :)  #money and an enclosed container such as a lava lamp or coffee mug for me to slosh around in

(also here is a working link to Don’t Touch the Pink Stuff)

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

(gently) it’s called a reblog button and content creators rely on you using it

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

hello tumblr for the bargain price of $6.66 i will present to you one of my Top 5 Most Embarrassing Childhood Misadventures 

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

Ok so here’s the setup. When i was like 7, my parents moved us into a house where my sisters and I shared the upstairs, which was split into two bedrooms. I got a separate room bc I was the most territorial the eldest. Both bedrooms had these weird little attached attic…space…things that were essentially unfinished closets. they were padded to the brim with this stuff:

i later found out the company that sells it had an advertising deal w/ the pink panther cartoons. that detail is completely unrelated to this story.

fyi that pink stuff is fiberglass insulation. my mom, presumably, at some point, almost certainly told me not to touch it, and that it contained crushed glass, and that I absolutely should not touch it, listen to me [deadname], look at me: the pink stuff is dangerous so do not touch it. 

i say presumably, bc i was unmedicated at the time and my hyperactive 7-year-old brain tended to filter out unnecessary information. 

also, in my defense, that stuff is fluffy. like it may contain glass, but soda bottles contain glass, and they don’t hurt to touch. and neither did this stuff! it was pretty soft actually. i would occasionally pat it with my bare hands while hiding in the dark swaying back and forth pretending i had been kidnapped and was being held hostage in the belly of a pirate ship and it was fine. so after awhile my brain just sort of put the pink stuff in the category of “don’t eat it or anything and you’ll probably be fine.”

i would later wish, above all wishes, that i had heeded my mother’s warning.

 ok that’s part one, i gotta go make breakfast

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

ok i had bantam bagels

PART 2

a pertinent detail about my bedroom attic: it had a crawl space. just a tiny little black tunnel that disappeared into the house beyond. i naturally, one day, became curious about where exactly it disappeared to. and how far.

my curiosity was compounded by the fact that the crawl space headed directly towards my sister’s bedroom. upon further reflection, it was very possible that the crawl space in fact connected both attics. 

i should at this point discuss my sisters’ bedroom attic. while mine was mostly used for storage and for sitting alone in the dark listening to scary radio shows that gave me nightmares my sisters had rather brilliantly decided to repurpose theirs into a clubhouse/Stuffed Animal Storage Facility. from what i had seen, it was stuffed to bursting with goddamn stuffed animals. it also had, i believe, a little tea table. and they had drawn on the walls. all in all, very makeshift and cozy.

i say “from what i had seen” because generally speaking, i wasn’t allowed in the Stuffed Animal Storage Facility. it was Their space, and of course there is not more territorial group of people that children of the age group 12 and under. Also, i was the least popular member of the household, except possibly for one of the hamsters. 

So the scene has been set: I am a 7-year-old delinquent who just so happens to be obsessed w/ espionage and bank robberies and I have discovered a secret tunnel from my bedroom to my sisters’ Forbidden Clubhouse.

i consider myself a victim of circumstance. the events that followed really wrote themselves.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

OF COURSE I WENT INTO THE CRAWL SPACE

what possible other ending could this story have? one sunday afternoon when i had nothing better to do, i decided to test my hypothesis that i was narrow enough to fit into the itty bitty tunnel.

and i WAS! an ancient and world-weary 8-year-old couldn’t have done it, but i was just stick-like enough to manage. i strapped a flashlight to my wrist and got on my hand and knees and crawled through that fucker! this, it transpired, was a colossal undertaking, as i was only technically small enough to fit into the wall. there was very little additional room to, for example, bend my knees and elbows. i ended up propelling myself forward mostly by inching along with my toes & wiggling like an eel. it was not very effective!

i got stuck several times. i tried to go back several times. it turns out there is no feasible way to turn around in a tunnel that is exactly as wide and as tall as the width of your shoulders. in one of my darker moments (i was stuck behind the bathroom wall, probably quite close to the toilet) it occurred to me that i had no actual proof there would be an opening on the other end. this presented certain concerns. it turns out it is rather difficult to drag yourself backwards by your toes.

i persevered! propelled by panic and (most of all) a lack of other options. 30 minutes and 10 yards later, i confirmed there was indeed an opening on the other end, which did indeed open into my sisters’ attic, because i was indeed a veritable genius. 

it was at this point i discovered my sisters were not in their bedroom. they had, in fact, at some point decided to go downstairs. meaning i would not be able to burst out of the attic to the shock and astoundment of all bystanders. 

i waited patiently for almost an entire minute. and then, observed only by the glossy plastic eyes of a hundred passionless plush toes, i tiptoed quietly away and hobbled back to my bedroom. 

This was, naturally, the beginning of the most woeful, misery-filled fortnight of my short and sorry life.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

FINAL PART

So i returned to my daily life, content in the knowledge that i had once again escaped the consequences of my actions, like the protagonist i so truly was.

Until. 

The next day.

Monday evening. Oh, Monday evening. After a long, tedious day at school, I lay peacefully in bed, content in the expectation of a well-deserved rest. Set down your constant burden, human, and rest thy weary soul.

But then. A sensation of dread swept over me. It had begun.

The ITCHING.

Did I mention the crawl space was lined with fiberglass insulation?

As it turns out, dragging yourself against 30 feet of finely crushed glass does, in fact, beget consequences. Microscopic shards of glass DO NOT CARE if you were wearing clothing at the time. they go where they choose. and that miserable Sunday afternoon of my wretched folly, they had chosen to

EMBED THEMSELVES DIRECTLY INTO MY SKIN.

What words to describe the suffering of the next 2 weeks? Reader, I took so many showers. SO MANY. Hot showers first thing in the morning, directly after school, and again before dinner, and right before bed. There was never any hot water left. i SOAKED. i SCRUBBED. i WEPT like the PITILESS WRETCH i so truly was reduced to.

and the itching would. not. STOP. Everywhere, it was everywhere, arms and legs and torso and FACE. Oh my stars it was so bad. I rubbed up like a cat against brick walls and desks corners and furniture. i scratched. i prayed and discovered that the gods are either powerless or indifferent to our suffering or perhaps are merely moderately entertained. nothing helped. 

two weeks. two weeks of ITCH, before my skin finally, finally expelled the invaders. It was misery. My sisters were unamused (and somewhat bored by the matter, and told me not to go in their room). My mom was unimpressed. And me? I was not excused from school (probably due to the fact that as an undiagnosed autistic kid in chronic discomfort, the adults around me were already in the habit of ignoring my constant complaints.)

(which how fucked up is that, that my base level of discomfort was so high that the adults around me didn’t believe i was in more pain than usual when 80% of my skin was literally embedded with glass???)

Anyway. long story long:

DO NOT TOUCH THE PINK STUFF.

ko-fi / paypal

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

Advice from people in the notes!

When it comes to showers, cold water works best to get the fiberglass shards off. there’s some dispute about whether warm water “opens the pores” or if that’s a myth

You can *carefully* place duct tape or electrical tape against the skin to peel off the shards 

Wash your clothes in apple cider vinegar to get rid of the glass/avoid it spreading to the rest of your laundry

DO NOT BREATHE THIS SHIT. Wear a face mask/respirator & goggles & protective clothes if you’re gonna be working near it

i reiterate: do not touch the pink stuff or pain will be your only fortune, all your joy will melt in your hands and lament requiems at your feet

[mischasbongwater]

“do not let my origin story become yours” sounds like a raw ass quote and it’s from the tags of a post about pink insulation glass shards

[magenta-cheesestick3]

“i prayed and discovered that the gods are either powerless or indifferent to our suffering” is the one I noticed

[distracted-from-writing-deactiv]

“pain will be your only fortune, all your joy will melt in your hands and lament requiems at your feet”

This hits like an Irish curse muttered by the old lady at church on Sunday

[sapphossidechick]

“set down your constant burden, human, and rest thy weary soul.” sounds like something from tolkien

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

I ever tell you about the time I accidentally kidnapped my neighbor's dog and took them for a walk?

[lizard-of-choice-deactivated202]

Be a dear and tell us already!

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

this is the most polite reply I have ever received, I feel like I'm accepting an invitation to tea with someone's grandma.

*settles down into comfy floral armchair* ok so I was new to the neighborhood and one afternoon there was a small dog wandering the sidewalk. we get very little traffic but it was still a safety issue, so I got a dog leash and (after a frightfully one-sided game of Tag You're It) managed to convince the slightly chubby corgi to let me attach the leash to their collar. Unfortunately their collar didn't have tags, no address or phone number, and I was new to the area and too shy to knock on random doors. The corgi, meanwhile, was champing at the bit, so I decided to just hope they knew their way home and could lead me there. We set off through the neighborhood and walked for about a mile, which would have felt like a goose chase except the corgi was trotting along seeming very purposeful about where we were heading. Sure enough 15 minutes later we've made one big circle and are pretty much exactly where we started, except one house over.

And that is how I met my next-door neighbor, a friendly older lady who informed me her corgi's name is Biscuit.

[writing-prompt-s]

Write a love-hate story between the monster under the bed and the monster in the closet.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

I am Fear. I am Dread. I am the Monster that lives in his closet. And I am failing.

She is the reason I am failing. She lives beneath his bed. She whispers sweet nothings in his ears. She sings him to sleep. When his little foot peeps out from the covers, she slips it gently back between the sheets before I can grab it. I do not know where She comes from. I do not know how the boy tamed Her. Perhaps it was his mother, inventing a new fairy tale, reassuring him, “Yes there is a monster under the bed. She keeps it clean and free from dust bunnies. Do not fear. She’s a friendly monster.”

I am not a friendly monster.

And I am failing.

She keeps me from him. I try to get close, to hover over him, to creep up from behind, but every time she surrounds him, shelters him.

It breaks my heart.

Every night I try to explain. She watches me in silence. She does not move, does not respond. Possibly she does not hear.

I try to explain. I do only my duty. I was created for him. I am his Monster, his first one. Children need fear.  To prepare them. Children need monsters to defeat. Because a few years from now, that child will not be a child. He will grow and he will forget and he will face a world that is more painful and cruel than any fright I could give him. Children cannot control their world, and the cruelties adults inflict, or simply fail to prevent. I do not create fear. It exists, everywhere, in all the nooks and crannies, all the uncertainties of the world. I merely shape it, give it an image. I give the child a battle to fight. To win.

This creature, who is lovely to be sure, who glows and twinkles and has no claws, this creature, made up of faith and confidence, made up of adult lies and, yes, a glint of anger—impossible not to be drawn to this creature, who offers reassurance and warm breath and the scent of peppermint. 

And I am a boogeyman, with all that implies. And I must do my duty. I fight her, night after night. The boy needs me. She cannot protect him always. And if I do not exist, there is nothing for him to defeat. Instead the fear will settle over him in a cloud, indefinable, insidious. It will cover him like sand, like burs.

I give fear its shape, but I am not Fear. I am Courage.

[mooses-cc]

Heres some fanart :D !!!

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

!!!!!!!

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

once again for the bargain price of $6.66 i will present to you a Top 5 Childhood Misadventures: April Fool’s Edition

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

Presenting:

The Saga Of The Stolen Door

Ah, to be young and filled with mirth and rage.

I was 14 at the time. 14 was not a good year for me. New town, new house, new school to adjust to, and that’s not even counting the complications of being an Undiagnosed Autistic Teenager. Ah, puberty. You think you’re finally catching up, and suddenly there’s a whole parade of shiny new developmental delays to widen the gap between you and your peers. Ah, nostalgia.

Point is, it was a difficult year for me and my 2 siblings. So when April rolled around? I decided, quite magnanimously I thought, a sign of benevolence of character and all that, that we all deserved a good laugh.

Well, that is one version of events.

The second version of events is: my siblings and I had spend the year driving each other up the walls. Up the walls, through the ceiling, past the colony of attic-dwelling dust bunnies, around the rafters and straight to cracking our skulls on the new roofing tiles (terracotta).

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

The thing about the house we were living in at the time…it was weird. It was a weird house. Rooms with too many corners. Windows shoved in bizarre places. Odd flourishes of grandeur.

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

It occurs to me, in hindsight (glorious, alluring, unobtainable hindsight), that if one is determined to go about removing a door in this manner, there is probably a correct order in which to remove screws from a doorframe.

I did not choose that order. 

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

At this point, it may have occurred to some of you that I am not much of a planner.

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

Dear Reader, let me snatch back my words. Earlier, I compared my tale to the Tragedy of Icarus. This was not wholly accurate, because you will note that Icaraus’s primary tragedy was that he was an insipid little bitch who couldn’t get his act together.

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

Let us skip ahead.

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

FINAL CHAPTER

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

one final detail, the briefest epilogue, the cherry & sprinkles atop the sundae.

(I’m not 100% sure my memory is accurate on this part, and I’m too scared to ask Claire, but from what I personally remember) not only did it take her 3 days to realize her bedroom door was missing: when she finally noticed, it was specifically because she was having an argument with Mom.

She tried to slam the door and–surprise :)

ko-fi

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

am worried some of you (wisely) neglected to click ‘keep reading’, in which case you missed my exquisite illustrations

fun fact: the pink ass in the last panel is modeled on a classical painting of Sisyphus pushing his boulder up the mountain. That is Sisyphus’s ass.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

have decided to sell out my dreams!

for the bargain price $4.20 you can purchase the Clown Dream I had last night!

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

Ok so in the dream I was a purveyor of clown meat. basically i ran a delicatessen that sold assorted deli meats but in particular i sold clown meat, which was somehow both a specialty item and a dietary staple. like it was a really culturally important food group. 

the thing about owning & operating a clown meat deli is that for some reason i was required to hunt the clowns myself, which required a hunting permit. 

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

right so as i recall, my lawyer only took me on as a client to begin with bc, upon my arrest, i had made the most astonishingly controversial claim, upon which my entire defense would now hinge aka THERE ARE NO SIGNIFICANT ANATOMICAL DIFFERENCES BETWEEN CLOWNS AND HUMANS. That is to say i stood there in front of god (nonexistent) and man (painfully existent) and declared that once the skin came off, there was no reliable method of distinguishing clown meat from human meat, because while their behavior and appearance and presumed intelligence differed enormously–their anatomies did not.

I was so full of shit I should have burst like a balloon, but I said it with such conviction that everyone hesitated and took a step back.

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

(gore tw)

I stood in that hot, damp courtroom, surrounded by reporters, detested former customers, and my Texan lawyer in his silly white suit-and-mustache, and I listen in awe and occasional nausea as a New York City Coroner recounted to a shellshocked jury that one of the most common forensic issues that law enforcement encounters in new york is when bodies are pulled out of the harbor–in particular, severed body parts, which are a fine new york harbor tradition. 

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

FINAL PART

Here is the secret. Here is the secret I never told anyone. Not any of those scientists or priests or reporters. Not my lawyer or that coroner whose testimony probably saved my life.

I spent decades butchering and selling clown meat, so I knew without a doubt that dead clowns are in fact very easy to distinguish from human corpses. Oh they look the same all right, but any clown butcher worth their salt can tell you the unique thing about clown meat–the reason that clown meat is so much easier to clean and cut and dress than any other type of animal flesh. 

Keep reading

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

I’m glad you all enjoyed this riot of a circus! Thanks especially to @bootleg-netflix​ and @frog-in-a-jumper​, who commemorated this notorious occasion with fan art:

That’s all folks!

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

in conclusion:

credit: @potooonakeyboard

[gaemms-chamois]

Pinus Sylvestris (All Squirrel Edition)

[nyan-tries-to-write]

HOLY SHIT JUSTICE KNIGHT IS A ZUZU PET THATS A NAME I HAVENT HEARD IN YEARS

[nyan-tries-to-write]

OFFICIAL HIATUS ANNOUNCEMENT

I feel as if I need to say this so that you all don't keep waiting in vain.

My motivation for writing fanfiction has been at an all time low, and these days I would much rather draw fanart instead of writing fanfiction.

So... I don't think I'll be coming back anytime soon.

I'm sorry to everyone who enjoyed my work, and I hope that everyone will enjoy the stories that I've written before.

I'll come back at some point in the future, but I can't say when.

So for now, thank you for enjoying my stories, thank you for all your positive comments and love, and I hope that you will all enjoy what I have written.

If you still want to see more from me, maybe my art or just my random ramblings, you can follow my main blog @nyantodamax145

I'll see you all when I see you!

Much love!

-Nyan

[nyan-tries-to-write]

FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE FONTAINE

[nyan-tries-to-write]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

TYSMMMMM

[nyan-tries-to-write]

Today is my Birthday!

[nyan-tries-to-write]

What if I wrote for Arknights too...

[nyan-tries-to-write]

Abandoned

Synopsis: What happens when you change mains?

Tags: SAGAU, cult themes, religious themes, yandere

One Shot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They feel it the moment it happens. The moment you declare someone as your new main.

It’s a sharp, searing pain. And in an instant, the warm, close connection they once had with you is cut off. Gone, like it never existed in the first place.

It’s a terrifying feeling; to them, it’s like they have just been pushed off of a deadly cliff, like being stabbed in the back by someone they trusted the most, like being cut off from the most euphoric drug they have ever experienced.

Even if you put them on your team again, even if you still play them regularly, it doesn’t feel the same. The cradle of warmth and safety that your ex-main felt when you mained them was everything. The feeling of being favored above all. By you, their God whom they so adored. 

But you favor someone else now. Your ever shortening attention span, declaring a new vessel your main only to drop them for someone else later down the line.

Those who used to be in your favor glower at the one you now favor. They turn cold and bitter, or become a husk of their former selves. After all, who were they if not your main vessel? The one whom you adored the most, who you put everything into? Only to cut them off in an instant?

Had they done something wrong? They couldn’t have, right? Their body was yours to command and control, their very soul dedicated to you. There was no way that you had abandoned them just like that. It had to be something to do with them. Were they not powerful enough? Not beautiful enough? What qualities did they have that made you choose them in the first place?

They asked what was wrong with themselves, because they refused to point their fingers at you.

The God that had abandoned them. That they couldn’t even bring themselves to hate.

They may never recover.

[nyan-tries-to-write]

I’ve been thinking of expanding which fandoms I write X Reader for.

I’ve fallen in love with Stardew Valley and Arknights as of late, but my blog is branded on Genshin and MHA

Who knows? Maybe soon.

[nyan-tries-to-write]

NYAN! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!

Well y’see...

... I’ve been writing.

WDYM YOU’VE BEEN WRITING? YOU HAVEN’T POSTED HERE IN MONTHS!

I never said it was on here...

For the past few months, I’ve been writing scripts for ASMRists on r/ASMRScriptHaven. It’s been a whole lot of fun, and to be completely honest, I’m actually enjoying it a little more than writing fanfiction.

When it comes to fanfiction, I’m constrained by the rules of the different universes I write for, but when it comes to the scripts, I can really just let my imagination run off. Screw the rules, I make them!

I promise I’m still thinking about SAGAU. I have a lot of ideas for it, and further more series to start and begin. I’ve fallen out of my MHA phase, but I still hold a lot of love for it in my heart.

I’ve also recently fallen into the Arknights rabbit hole, Genshin still has a chokehold on my life, and my birthday is coming up soon as well.

Long story short, I promise I’m still thinking about you guys. But my attention when it comes to writing is currently directed elsewhere.

So if you guys want to read the kind of writing I’ve been doing lately, you can check out my Script Hub on r/ASMRScriptHaven.

I promise that I’ll write more fanfiction eventually... hopefully.

I love you guys~