A long time ago I defined myself by what I like, what I’m made of and how hard I can push myself to create.

I started putting in an enormous amount of worth into how many words I could churn out and how quickly. Each finished story left me emptier than the last.

Life took over, and writing quickly became a source of endless stress, rather than the fun outlet it had once been.

I took a long break, only writing scraps in my spare time on the train to work to get the endless buzzing of half-baked ideas out of my head. Then, I started reading again, and enjoying what I read, taking inspiration from the words rather than measuring myself against them.

Now, years later, I feel I can finally update this bio (that likely no one will ever read, which is, poetically, somewhat like my favourite rare pair fics) and say that I’m just a person who enjoys reading and writing fanfic.

If a story is no longer available in my collection it is for a good reason. I began writing and posting on here when I was very young and very ignorant. I had good ideas and intentions, but these sometimes came out poorly. Please be mindful that those that remain are not necessarily reflective of the values or beliefs I now hold.

It’s unlikely I’ll ever post another story here, or update those that remain unfinished, but I will leave this as an archive of fanfics that once sparked joy for me.

Thanks for the ride.