#phire writes

[propheticfire]

tried writing poetry for this character shipping week I’ve got coming up, and it’s just

*drags my hands across my face*

it’s so bad

why have I done this

[propheticfire]

Idea for a fic I will never write:

Kaiba wakes up, in a bed that is not his, but is somehow strangely familiar. Leaves the room and walks down stairs that are not his but tug at something deep in his mind. Makes his way into the kitchen, which somehow he knows how to find, and sees...

Two people. A man and a woman. Older than him. “Look who’s finally out of bed!” the man says with a smile, before ducking into the refrigerator to retrieve some eggs. The woman walks to the table and pulls out a chair. “Good morning, Seto! How was your first night of college break? Did you sleep okay?”

He can’t move. He can’t even speak. His body feels both numb and heavy. What is this? Last night, he went to bed the CEO of the most powerful company in Domino, with the bank account and the last name to prove it. Today, he wakes up...

A college kid. In a tiny suburban house. Being served breakfast by his parents.

(AKA the AU where Kaiba wakes up in the alternate life he could have had if his parents were still alive. Probably his alternate self from this life wakes up as CEO of KaibaCorp and has no fucking clue what’s happening either.)

[propheticfire]

God help me I’m actually writing fic.

It’s the shmoopiest most overly atmospheric shit imaginable, and it has no real plot, but I am writing.

[propheticfire]

*looks up Indian and Middle Eastern men’s formalwear for fic outfit designs*

My god, modern western men’s clothes are so fucking drab.

[propheticfire]

Okay how the FUCK is the interior of Barius’ bake shop designed? Because I’m having a hell of a time conceptualizing how that matches the exterior shot. I have wasted far too much time on this for a passing mention in a mini fic that was only supposed to take a little bit to write.

[propheticfire]

Just reading about everything you need to do when you bring home a baby is exhausting, and I’m only writing a fic about it. I can’t imagine actually doing it with a real baby.

[propheticfire]

I did it, I fucking did it, I finished this fic that was just supposed to be a short one-shot. I wrote the whole fucking thing by hand. Now I just have to type it up and make whatever edits need to be made, and I can be rid of it, lol.

[propheticfire]

Me *grumbling*: This fic is so ooc how are you even writing this?

Me at me: Nobody knows what this character's personal life is like! He can stress cry if he wants to!