Latest Posts by cutethulu - Page 2

are we not feeling very pious today, brother lionel

Yay!! Shells is back!!

Elliott and Willy being pals and swapping writing tips/life advice soothed my soul in a way I didn’t know I needed ❤️

Shells | Part 21 (shelliott stardew fic)

all parts | <- previous | next ->

so happy to be back!

Patreon here!

Does anyone have a good resource for describing men’s hairstyles? Specifically short hairstyles/cuts?

I know so much about women’s cuts but for guys I’m like idk it’s not a fade so imagine that

Adorable! I love this for him.

And relatable because this is the standard reaction I get from anyone I make listen to The Decemberists.

Hi, hello.

All this recent talk about Shane coded songs made me think about Harvey a bit. I’m of the opinion that he’d be a fan of the Decemberists, and from that thought came what has got to be the most self-indulgent little thing I’ve ever written.

Look below the cut for some SFW fluff.

Contains: domesticity and conversations best suited for those of us whose musical tastes crystallized in the 2006 indie folk scene.

Harvey had a vinyl collection. It was endearing, his dedication to physical media. Mostly jazz albums, smooth and smoky, all warm and rich through his speakers.

You weren’t much for jazz. He had some other options too, but you weren’t sure those were for you either.

“Why do you listen to music about dead babies?”

You’d asked it while washing the dishes. Harvey nearly dropped the plate in his hands. “What!?”

You shrugged. “I put on one of your records and the guy was singing about a dead baby.”

“You… what album?” Harvey’s eyes were crinkled in bemusement.

“It had a boat on it?”

Harvey thought for a second, then his face lit in recognition. “The Decemberists! They’re wonderful!”

You laughed. “Didn’t know your taste was so… edgy?”

“Oh no no no.” Harvey was blushing. “That track… not a good representation. Here.” He dried his hands, grabbed yours, pulled you into his hobby room. You leaned against the door, trying to control your smile as he rifled through his albums. He made a small “ah” sound as he pulled one out. “This is a better starting point.”

Strings filled the room, and you settled in on the floor to listen. You liked this one a little better, but…

“Is this a song about a couple jumping off a cliff together?”

“…yes?” Harvey ducked his head, an embarrassed smile playing on his lips.

“I mean, I like it better than the dead baby one…”

“Hmmm…” Harvey fiddled with the player again. “They’re known for this one. Might want to sit down, it’s long.”

You appeased him, doing your best not to knock into the model that was drying on the table next to you. Harvey joined, picking up a bit of sandpaper. He worked away at a few small pieces of wood as you spent the next nine minutes trying to follow the action of a rambling nautical tale.

“So let me get this straight,” you said as an accordion reeled through its outro. “This dude bankrupted the kids mom and gave her an std or something, so the singer took to sea to kill him, but then they both got swallowed by a whale, but he’s still gonna kill him?”

Harvey nodded, keeping his eyes on his project. “Yup. That’s… that’s about it.”

“Huh.” You sat and watched him for a moment as he smoothed away at a rough edge. The track transitioned, a gentle guitar picking, the lead singer’s lowing tenor sliding through a simple melody.

You recognized it.

“I think I know this one?” You tried to place it. It sounded a little different in your head. Softer. Hummed.

Harvey was blushing again. “I get it stuck in my head sometimes. It’s one of my favorites. ‘Of Angels and Angles.’ Makes me think of you.”

“Awww…” You couldn’t help the slow smile. That was exactly it. Harvey would hum it sometimes around the house, or, now that you were thinking a little harder, when you were in bed, head on his chest, the melody rumbling beneath you as you grew up warm and tired and relaxed.

Harvey’s lips were moving, singing without singing as he brushed away a bit of dust from the wing he held.

There’s a swallow

There’s a calm

Here’s a hand to lay on your open palm today

You stood, wrapped your arms around his shoulder, buried your face in his hair as the song wound its way to its end. “Alright,” you said. “That was a lot better than the first one I heard. What else you got?”

Harvey tilted his head up at you. “Ever heard the story of the crane wife?”

You hadn’t, but now you couldn’t wait to hear all about it.

I truly want that, too.

To have someone fall asleep reading one of my fics, happy and at ease

That really is the dream

my dream as a fanfic writer is for one day, one of my fics to be someones comfort fic. like the fic that they reread when they don't feel good and want to be happy. i want my words to comfort someone one day

Good news

I’m back on a higher dose of adhd meds

My mind is quiet again and I can focus

Bad news

I have new hyperfixations that are neither my day job nor cleaning my goddamn apartment

Blank Notepad doc on my laptop

No planning outside of what my fevered brain holds

No gods

No masters

Just me and a brick of text in consolas regular

hello writers.

Joja Workers Unite (Rarepair Week 2025)

I did it! I finished one Rarepair Week prompt! Yay!

Here, have a teaser :)

Joja Workers Unite (Sam/Shane)

Since Shane and Sam can't unionize to get more time off they decide to do the next best thing: get married.

Of course, nothing goes to plan.

"I know our love is unconventional," Sam said, loud enough that half the store could've heard him. "But please, I want you to make an honest man out of me!"

Shane realized too late that Sam was only half looking at him. The other man's eyes scanned the aisle at Shane's back. And too late Shane realized there were footsteps coming towards them.

"Gentlemen, is there a problem here?" The sight of Morris, arms crossed and scowling, waited for Shane when he turned around.

"No issues. We're just--" Shane started, but Sam bumped him aside.

"I'm heartbroken, bossman! I know I'm being loud but my heart has literally shattered. My man doesn't want to claim me!" Sam gestured to Shane with both arms.

"And this is something you need to do at work because--?"

"Love knows no time or place," Sam said with a soft sniffle. "When the spirit of love calls, you answer. And Shane answered with a 'no'."

"Samson, I have no idea what that means and quite frankly I'm losing my patience," Morris deadpanned.

"He won't marry me, boss! My work hubs won't put a shell on it!"

"This is startling news for so many reasons," Morris said. "Not least of which is that Joja discourages employee fraternization."

"Well I have no idea what that means!" Sam was getting more worked up by the minute.

Their conversation went around in circles for a while longer and Shane couldn't be bothered to follow it. Shane started coming around somewhere in there, though, because some time off wouldn't be the worst thing. Most of his PTO had been spent nursing colds or sleeping off hangovers. He rarely used the time off for anything fun. Maybe he could take Jas on vacation? She'd been bugging him to go to the beach to collect shells, too, even though it was cold. They could do both with the time fake marrying Sam would buy him.

Shane cleared his throat. The two men stopped bickering and stared at him.

"Sam... uh... Samson? Yeah. Okay." He took a steadying breath before he faced Sam head-on. "I can see now that you're so passionate about... our love? I didn't think you were serious, but now I know... Now... yeah, I do know. So I accept your proposal."

Check out the whole fic on AO3!

I had such high hopes for how much I would write this week.

But then I discovered Look Outside and put like 15 hours into that instead.

And my first Rarepair week fic ballooned out of my control.

Life amirite

My doc and I did some fiddlin with my ADHD meds and now I’m back in Executive Dysfunction Hell™

Forgot how bad it is down here fuckin get me out

people who dont experience it cannot comprehend how awful executive dysfunction is. I WANT to do the task, i have the resources TO do the task, i will feel better having DONE the task

but i cant fucking do the task

So excited for this!! And I have some of my pairs picked out 👀

* Fake Relationship: Shane/Sam

* Close Proximity: Leah/Abigail

* Opposites Attract: Shane/Elliott

* Forbidden Love: Caroline/Jodi

* Free Day: Haley/Penny

Still noodling on Enemies to Lovers and Second Chances. The inspo will surely come… maybe. We’ll see!

INTRODUCING RAREPAIR WEEK: 21ST - 27TH APRIL 2025

We have been teasing this on the server for a while now, so I am excited to announce the prompts below.

RULES AND FAQ HERE

Happy writing everyone!

I may or may not have something to shamelessly plug:

Camellia Station

(Elliott/Shane fic, at 26k words now and going strong, strangers to lovers!)

the below confession was submitted off anon (its a long one):

can someone hear me out on shelliott? (shane/elliott)

they have actually been consuming my thoughts ever since i first started playing. at first i thought combining their dynamics would be funny, but guys.. i dont think its a joke anymore,, ...

IN ALL SERIOUSNESS PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

elliott moved to stardew valley for a change. shane has been living here for ages, living an endless cycle of deprivation and misery (in short, he has not felt change). he meets elliott, who of course is glad and excited to life a new life, whereas shane'll live the same old routine. like w the farmer, shane would be extremely cold to elliott, pushing him away because he sorta pisses him off with his sunny aura and all that, but as all things go, elliott is eager to know more about him, and boom.

shane 2 heart event but theyre at the beach. elliott happens to pass by the guy, sat on the docks south of the beach surrounded by an 8-pack of beer. shane tells him how he feels, and elliott realizes why shane acts the way he is — rude, annoyed, pissy — because he can't seem to catch a break from helplessness.

he understands it, both in a sympathetic and in an aesthetic way — not aesthetic as in he romanticizes it, but rather sees the beauty in such an ugly feeling — and he listens, even if he can't help in the way shane needs it. he listens because he could.

i also really just cant get over the events that could happen during shanes 6 heart event. BECAUSE??

shane asks him why he shouldn't roll off that ledge at that moment. elliott, face soaking wet from both the rain and his tears, tells him it's because the world would mourn those who don't live long enough to realize living is to love. and from shane's point of view, elliott is the world.

all this include these hcs too:

adamant and persistent x given up w life and distant

LOVER X THINKS HES UNLOVEABLE !!!!!

sees the beauty in life x sees the ugliness

elliott's demure nature changes when he witnesses shane at his lowest

shane thinks elliott's romantic schtick is a whole lotta nonsense, but he slowly warms up to it and eventually indulges on his own

overall shane just being in denial because he fell for elliott's cheesy romantic shit. "no way in hell am i gonna like that guy with his long swoopy hair... and his weirdly kind way with words... and oddly comforting aura... and... FUCK"

anyway i hope this spreads my shelliott propaganda. SDV FIC WRITERS PLEASE WRITE MORE SHELLIOTT‼️‼️

This. This x1,000.

Comments nourish my soul in a way nothing else can.

I need you to understand that when I say "comments are appreciated!" I mean that I will reply to every one of them. I mean that an email with an ao3 notification has a higher priority than a message from my mother. I mean that I will have entire discussions in the comment section if you're up for it. Message me on tumblr and I will have the same discussions on an even more unhinged level. I will dissect entire personalities and ships and fictional political structures and worldbuilding with you. I will become your new best friend. You already ARE my new best friend. At the last battle, I would raise Anduril and say "For my ao3 readers" while a single tears rolls down my cheek, and dive into the fray. I would upload from beyond the grave if someone asked about the next chapter

Camellia Station

Name: Camellia Station

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Ship: Elliott/Shane

Status: Ongoing

Notes: Chapter 8 preview. Not edited yet.

Read the whole fic on AO3

Someone else was with her and Shane couldn't bear to look at him in anything other than a side glance. Elliott wore a somber smile as he stepped forward and held out his parting gifts. A composition book, not one of the kinds with metal spiral binding, but one stitched together on the inside. The other was a leather-bound copy of some old book that Shane didn't read the title of because he was too embarrassed to be getting gifts at all.

"Thanks. Uhm… super thoughtful," Shane said as he set his bag down, took the books, then rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

"My pleasure. I'm… we're all very proud of you, Shane. This path is a thorny one to walk, but you have the strength to see it to the end. I believe that whole-heartedly."

"Fuck's sake," he huffed, eyes stinging.

The past four days already left him feeling like an exposed nerve end. Three days in the clinic to detox and wait out a 72-hour hold, one spent at home so he could pack while his paperwork got approved. Harvey worked quick to make sure there was a bed ready for him at a six week program in Zuzu. Shane suspected the good doctor planned for this well in advance.

Now he stood here, belly full of pancakes Marnie helped Jas make, and had to endure an unexpected going away party. They might be there to actually see him off or they could be there to make sure he didn't walk in front of the train. Maybe both. Probably both.

Emily got the balloons off the basket's handle and pressed it into Shane's open hand. He had to readjust his things, stuffed the books into his bag so he could get out his ticket when the train came. Once that was settled, Emily pulled him into a big bear hug. He froze, stunned for a moment that she was hugging him at all and that she was so damn strong. Then he returned the hug with as much strength as he could muster. Over her shoulder, he met Elliott's eyes and held them for a moment before looking away.

"When did you start lifting steel beams for fun? What the hell?" He asked, wheezing a little for effect.

She pulled away, took a step back and wiped her eyes as she giggled.

"You'd be surprised what carrying kegs around can do for a girl."

Shane picked up his bag, felt the extra weight of his gifts in it. Felt the extra weight of other people's expectations. Or maybe it was their genuine good will? As he looked between the two of them, Shane honestly wasn't sure what was better or worse.

Was he suppose to say something now? Make a speech or cry or gush about how much their support meant? He had no idea how to behave and it didn't look like they did, either. At least he wasn't the only one who wasn't equipped for this kind of thing. The three stood in relative silence, Emily only chiming in now and then with a word of encouragement or a remark about how the fog started to clear up.

Elliott tried to keep up the conversation, but it kept petering out, returning them back to uneasy quiet periodically. But Shane appreciated his effort. He appreciated Emily's, too, but Elliott held more weight in his mind right now. After all the weird shit that went on between them since the Spring, it continued to amaze him that the guy would keep showing up. That Shane kept wanting him to show up.

Faint anxiety stirred in Shane's chest. It occurred to him that Elliott might use Shane's stint in rehab as an excuse to put some distance between them. It was his life, sure, but the thought that Elliott might choose to stop coming around made Shane nervous in a way he couldn't quite understand. It was like the feeling he had right before he got the results from all the x-rays and CT scans when they were trying to figure out if he could play gridball again. Like something bad that he never anticipated was just around the corner.

A train horn sounded in the distance. Almost time.

He decided to see what a little courage might feel like.

Untitled Jotakak

Name: Untitled

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Ship: Jotaro/Kakyoin

Status: Unpublished WIP; unedited

Notes: AU where Kakyoin lives; post Part 3/ pre Part 4

Here's the thing about heartbreak: sometimes it's gradual. It's in the days of waiting for someone to come back, in the listening for a phone call, in the wishing and pining and knowing it will never work. Heartbreak is in the growing apart, the falling away in slow motion. It's in the sudden stop.

Kakyoin took the long way home.

He lingered in the cold, mostly barren streets, pausing often to look up at the few stars he could see through the streetlights. Heavy footsteps finally found him in front of the convenience store.

Perhaps it wasn't his brightest idea, but he bought a six pack. It didn't matter what kind of beer it was, really. As long as it worked.

The cashier rang him up, a knowing smile on her face. Or maybe that was just his projection. Surely unhappiness was plain on his face. Either way, he paid and went quickly on his way.

Down to the riverbank. Someplace as in-between as he felt.

He didn't want to go home and he couldn't really keep wandering forever. Sitting in the grass, he cracked open the first beer and sipped at it. The taste was sharper than he remembered. Not unpleasant, though.

The word that had been chasing him the entire way finally started to fade: engaged. Engaged. I'm engaged. Engaged.

Of course Jotaro's tone had been almost unreadable. But there was something strange and cruel wrapped up in his announcement. Why? That wasn't the Jotaro he knew… The man who tried to hide it but was kind down to his core. The man who was shedding his delinquent facade as he grew older, becoming a better version of his old self every day.

The one he'd wait patiently by the phone for in anticipation of their weekly calls. Who he'd reschedule his life around to make sure they could meet during breaks. The man who he was planning to follow to America as soon as he was fully healed and able to go.

His best friend.

The man he loved.

He was partway through beer three when things started to sting a little less. The idea of helping Jotaro plan a wedding and giving a speech praising the new union was painful. He was giving Jotaro away.

But, so what? He took another long pull from the can. I never planned on confessing or anything. I was going to keep the boat steady. This upsets everything, though. That bastard… we had a good thing going. Why waste it on a woman? On love?

Kakyoin made a derisive sound in the back of his throat.

"A good thing"? What good thing? A long distance friendship. Eventually going to the same college together. More of the same until they died? How would that have worked? Of course Jotaro would get married and carry on the Joestar line. Stupid to think that he would die a bachelor. Stupid to think that he would consider being with a man and losing the opportunity to have kids.

Kakyoin crushed the mostly empty can, the remaining liquid at the bottom spraying out suddenly. He barely noticed, his mind still wrapped up in his own thoughts.

They could have had kids together, damn it! There had to be options! Options that would be an uphill battle to obtain. And they could never get married, not really. Their families would be so disappointed. He imagined Holly's confused, upset face and it was too much.

He let the can slip out of his grasp and held his face in his hands. He was crying freely now.

All these feelings for Jotaro were wrong. He'd always known that this was part of his life he'd never be able to live. Stuck in a place that didn't understand or approve of how he felt. It was so painful. He had hoped moving to America would make things easier. It seemed so much more free over there for people like him. Maybe he'd even find out Jotaro felt the same way, eventually.

Not now.

He had to steel himself for the days ahead. The engagement changed nothing. He was still going to America. He'd still stay by Jotaro's side no matter what. Even if it meant pushing everything he felt so far down that he could never reach it. No matter what, he owed Jotaro his life and he would repay that at any cost.

His resolve strengthened a little, Kakyoin cleaned up his empties and pushed himself to his feet. The world felt fuzzy around the edges and his steps weren't the most steady, but he managed to make it home.

Once inside his apartment he collapsed on the couch and fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

Hi hello how are ya

Curious about my writing?

AO3

Current Fandoms

Stardew Valley

Fear & Hunger 2: Termina

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Who am I?

I'm a humble idiot. A lesbian. A writer of fanfiction. A lover of BL.

And, I hope, a father figure.

What else?

This blog is kind of for whatever. I'll post some teasers and previews for upcoming fics. I'm trying to be better at self-promotion and being part of the broader fandom community.

I mostly ship/write rarepairs.

Except Jotakak/Kajo, my beloveds.

If you're a writer in any of my fandoms, let's be mutuals!

Have a request?

Send me an ask!

I love a challenge and want to make you happy, bb :)

Is this the inverse of the Tiffany problem?

I’m watching Splash (1984) which is a romcom about a guy who falls in love with a mermaid, and when she chooses a human name she chooses Madison and guy says “that’s not a real name, but alright” which seems to imply that Madison was not a name until at least the 80’s and all girls named Madison are actually named after the mermaid. thought you should know

Finally someone said it

hey when you make posts, i just want you to know, thou/thee/thy/thine/ye are like he/you(object)/your/yours/you(subject) okay? "thou art wearing shoes," "i will wear shoes for thee," okay?

you say thine if the next word starts with a vowel and thy if the next word starts with a consonant and they both mean "your" so "thine own shoes," "thy shoes," okay?

and ye means you and refers to the subject of a sentence, "ye members of the brotherhood of shoes," okay? you need this information to create better knight yaoi. i'm personally more interested in nun yuri but we are a community

I think that we live or die under the tyranny of perfection. Socially, we are pushed towards being perfect. Physically, beautiful to conform to standards that are cruel and uncommon, to behave and lead our lives in a certain way, to demonstrate to the world that we are happy and healthy and all full of sunshine. We are told to always smile and never sweat, by multiple commercials of shampoo or beer. And I feel that the most achievable goal of our lives is to have the freedom that imperfection gives us. And there is no better patron saint of imperfection than a monster.

Happy 52nd Birthday, Guillermo del Toro! (October 9, 1964)

Lillian Gish in Night of the Hunter  (Charles Laughton, 1955)