alessandriana

[alessandriana]

WIP Thursday

No one tagged me to do this, I just feel like it!

A bit more from the Chengxian scar removal WIP-- this is actually the scene immediately prior to that one.

--

Wei Wuxian shouldered into the tent and announced, "I need you to take off your robes." His hands were stacked high with papers and talismans.

Wei Wuxian shouldered into the tent and announced, "I need you to take off your robes." His hands were stacked high with papers and talismans.

Reflexively, Jiang Cheng snapped, "No." Then what Wei Wuxian had said processed, and his forehead wrinkled with puzzlement. But he didn't look up from his travel desk, where he was re-working plans for the Jiang battle formations. He didn't have time. Another one of his few remaining original Jiang disciples had died today, and he needed to account for their loss. He was exhausted, and his head hurt, and he wanted very badly just to get this done so that perhaps in the days ahead they might actually survive.

Wei Wuxian sagged against the tent pole, a dramatic hand pressed to his chest. "Rejected so quickly!"

Jiang Cheng finally looked up, and gave him a flat glare. "Aren't you supposed to be helping the Nie set up the sentry spells?"

Wei Wuxian slunk closer, dropping his pile of papers on top of Jiang Cheng's notes and slouching onto the trunk next to the desk. He crossed his arms on top of the pile and propped his chin on them, turning his face sideways to look up at Jiang Cheng. "I helped," he said. His eyes glittered, red-rimmed and over-bright; his skin was tinged gray. This close he stunk of the strange resentful energy his new cultivation style utilized. His hands were clean-- at least he'd had the courtesy to wash off the grave dirt before coming-- but his fingernails were chewed to the quick. Jiang Cheng's lips pressed together, half-concern, half-disapproval.

"They weren't supposed to be done for another shichen," he said, instead of when is the last time you slept or have you eaten anything in the last two days or any of the hundred other things he wanted to say. Wei Wuxian didn't mind being mothered when Jiang Yanli did it. If Jiang Cheng tried, he'd just tell him to fuck off. "It doesn't count as helping if you do one thing and leave early."

Wei Wuxian waved a lazy hand. "Oh, I left several hands to do the work in my place." He cackled suddenly, mostly to himself. "Though fewer hands than bodies, if you know what I mean."

His corpses. Jiang Cheng gave Wei Wuxian a skeptical glare. He still didn't know how he felt about those. They were deeply unnerving-- though they'd more than proved their worth in battle. "Dead bodies can't perform spells," he said.

"No, but they can run-- heh, well, shuffle, I guess-- supplies out to the people who can. Which frees up a bunch of the juniors to help elsewhere. Nie-zongzhu seemed to think it was a good idea, anyways!"

Well, if Nie Mingjue had approved it, it should be fine. "If you say so."

Wei Wuxian's corpses couldn't help Jiang Cheng develop battle formations, though. Jiang Cheng turned his attention back to his papers. Up until this point, he'd really just been throwing people together almost randomly, creating a new squad whenever enough new cultivators joined up; that wasn't sustainable in the long term, though. His mother had taught him to weigh his cultivators' strengths and weaknesses and put them together in teams such that the whole would be stronger than the parts. Chen Daqin's death was as good an excuse as any to update the rosters.

Wei Wuxian could help with the battle formations-- but as usual these days, he didn't seem inclined to. Instead he watched Jiang Cheng work for a bit, sprawling over half of his desk. Jiang Cheng felt frustration mounting as the minutes burned away. If he wasn't going to help he could at least get out of the way! Jiang Cheng leaned over to snatch a paper from where was squished under Wei Wuxian's arms.

The angle was awkward, and the scars on his chest twinged.

He didn't think his expression had actually changed, but Wei Wuxian must have been paying more attention than Jiang Cheng had realized because he sat up immediately, leaning in. Humor fell away like a mask, leaving something intent behind.

"Do they still hurt?" he asked, staring at Jiang Cheng's chest.

Jiang Cheng didn't respond for a moment. Then he shrugged. The whip marks had closed up as soon as Baoshan Sanren had restored his core, but they hadn't healed well; the scars pulled and caught, and every change in weather set them aching. Most of the time he could ignore it, or work through it. As long as he warmed up first, it didn't seem to affect his fighting.

Wei Wuxian leaned in closer, hands moving for the lapels of Jiang Cheng's robes. "Lemme see?"

Jiang Cheng dodged in his chair, slapping at his hands. Surprise reverted him back to his youth. "Wei Wuxian! What the fuck?"

Wei Wuxian persisted, fingers sneaking beneath the edge of fabric, fingernails scraping Jiang Cheng's skin in a way that made his breath hitch. "I've been talking with the healers! I have some ideas this time."

"Ideas? Ideas for what?" Jiang Cheng grabbed his hands and yanked them out of his robes. Wei Wuxian fought back. They scrabbled at each other like children for a moment. Jiang Cheng finally managed to get Wei Wuxian into a headlock. He went easier than Jiang Cheng had expected to, though he wriggled like a fish.

Wei Wuxian panted, throwing Jiang Cheng a wounded glare from under his armpit. "Ideas for getting rid of your scars! I told you there had to be a way, and I think I found it."

'Take off your robes,' he'd declared as soon as he'd stepped through the door. Jiang Cheng had thought he was just being a pest. He said, "So that's what you're here to bother me about??"

Wei Wuxian stuck an arm out from his grip and patted the stack of paper he'd brought, still on the desk. "Don't you wanna give it a shot?"

Jiang Cheng bit his lip. He hated the scars. Every time they caught and pulled they reminded him of that night, of crushing agony and his parents' bodies in the rain and being so hollow and cold and empty he was nothing now he would never be anything again --

--so. Suffice it to say, he wouldn't mind them gone.

"The healers have already tried. Why do you think you can do it when they can't?" he snapped. It was never a good idea to give in to Wei Wuxian blindly. That was how they'd wound up naked in the middle of the lake that one time.

Wei Wuxian wriggled a little more, then pouted as Jiang Cheng refused to let go. "The whip was spelled to leave scars. That means there must be magic in the wounds, keeping them from healing right. If I can draw that magic out, it should mean they can start healing naturally."

Jiang Cheng wavered. No one still living knew how the Jiang discipline whip worked-- it had been created in his grandfather's time-- but the theory made sense. Maybe it could work.

And also, this was the first time Wei Wuxian had shown interest in anything more than killing Wen Dogs-- or drinking-- in weeks.

"There's work I need to do," he said weakly, glancing at his diagrams.

Sensing Jiang Cheng wavering, Wei Wuxian went in for the kill. "Shijie said she's noticed the scars hurting you. Do you want to make her worry?"

Jiang Cheng flinched. A-Jie had been looking so tired lately, working in the medical tents all the time, but she always had scar salve for him when he needed it, which she made herself. If he could take something off her plate… "Fine! Whatever! Just be quick about it."

Wei Wuxian grinned. Then he yanked on Jiang Cheng's robes. The ties, which he'd apparently been working on while trapped under Jiang Cheng's arm, slid apart. Jiang Cheng yelped as his robes fell open.

They ended up on his camp bed, because it was easier that way-- Jiang Cheng flat on his back and Wei Wuxian kneeling next to him, setting up a line of supplies on Jiang Cheng's supply chest, which he'd dragged close: white paper and black ink and crimson cinnabar.

In the interests of not having to do any more laundry, Jiang Cheng had shed everything except his pants. It was cool in the tent; he shivered a little as the air bit at his exposed skin, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps and tightening his nipples.

Wei Wuxian had gone mostly quiet; he was staring at Jiang Cheng's chest, and the scars on it, with that laser-focused intensity he got when he was facing down a particularly hard or interesting problem. It made Jiang Cheng a little uncomfortable, being the focus of that much attention.

He also kind of liked it.

Wei Wuxian had been so weird, ever since coming back from… wherever it was he'd vanished to for those three months (not the Burial Mounds, surely it couldn't have actually been the Burial Mounds.) He was distant and cold a lot of the time, prone to angry outbursts, and there was a brittle edge that he'd never had before. But here, like this-- with his eyebrows scrunched up and chewing his lower lip in thought-- Jiang Cheng could see the person he'd known for most of his life. It was a relief.

Wei Wuxian knelt there for a while, examining his notes and Jiang Cheng's scars. Then, without warning, he picked up his brush and began to draw on Jiang Cheng's chest.

Jiang Cheng yelped at the ticklish touch of the brush. "Hey!"

"Oh, don't be a baby; you're going to mess this up," Wei Wuxian chided absentmindedly, putting his other hand on Jiang Cheng's bare shoulder to hold him still. Jiang Cheng scowled, but did his best to stay still as the brush trailed a line of liquid ink across his skin. Wei Wuxian's hand on his shoulder was a welcome point of warmth.

Soon enough Wei Wuxian finished the first set of characters on the closer side of Jiang Cheng's chest. The tent was not large, and his camp bed was pressed right up against the fabric; Wei Wuxian leaned over to reach the other side, and as he did so, his hair slid out of its haphazard ponytail and fell across Jiang Cheng's stomach, smearing several of the characters. "Shit!" Wei Wuxian said. Then he licked his thumb and went to wipe off the smeared ink.

Jiang Cheng half rose off the bed in outrage. "Don't get your spit on me!"

"I'm just trying to clean it-- oh, come on!" Jiang Cheng had licked his own hand and was trying to wipe it on Wei Wuxian's face. "Cut that out-- hold still!"

They rolled around on the bed for a bit, though there was hardly enough room for it. Finally Wei Wuxian wound up literally on top of Jiang Cheng, hair in disarray, with a handprint of ink smeared from his right cheek down his neck. "Don't! Move!" He emphasized each word by slapping his hands on Jiang Cheng's chest.

Jiang Cheng snapped, "Get off me!"

Wei Wuxian stuck out his tongue. "No! This will be easier." He retrieved his brush from between the wall and bed where it had fallen, and using the edge of his sleeve, wiped the rest of the ink off Jiang Cheng's chest. Then he started all over again from the beginning.

Fine! Whatever. It wasn't the first time Wei Wuxian had made him do something ridiculous. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and let him do his thing.

The brazier in the corner burned, wood crackling. Jiang Cheng passed the time by drawing up possible formations in his head, matching possible battle partners together.

This occupied him for a while, puzzling through the various options. Gradually, through, he began to notice a problem. A growing problem.

The thing was, he hadn't-- you know-- well, he'd been busy lately. And exhausted after fighting, and hungry all the time, and-- look, he just hadn't had the time or energy lately to take care of certain things, alright? It hadn't even occurred to him. Not for weeks, really. Possibly months.

And now that was coming back to bite him in the ass, because with Wei Wuxian sitting on top of him-- weight shifting constantly as he reached to draw each character, to consult his notes, to get more ink; running fingers across his skin as he measured spacing; trailing the brush, feather light, from collarbones to ribs down to sternum; hair falling down to tickle across his stomach; all in all, just touching him…

…well…

…his body was sitting up and taking notice.

He found himself staring fixedly up at the ceiling, praying that Wei Wuxian wouldn't pick up on what was happening directly behind him.

Thankfully Wei Wuxian was very focused on his work, and he seemed to have no idea there was anything wrong, still mumbling quietly to himself as he painted another character just below the scars on Jiang Cheng's left pectoral. The brush tickled as it slid across his skin, leaving a line of cool ink in its wake. Jiang Cheng swallowed, mouth dry. Maybe he should tell Wei Wuxian to stop. But if he did that, Wei Wuxian might notice-- and he was so close to being done; maybe he would finish and get off on his own?

Wei Wuxian set his brush back down and surveyed his work, eyes narrowed, arms crossed and hand under his chin. Then disaster struck. Apparently unsatisfied with his work, without warning Wei Wuxian slid back a crucial inch, bringing him directly in contact with-- directly in contact with--

Jiang Cheng could feel his expression contorting in a rictus of embarrassed horror.

Wei Wuxian was so absorbed in his work that it took a long, miserable second, in which Jiang Cheng sincerely wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment, to register that something was wrong. Then he looked up and noticed Jiang Cheng's expression; did a double-take, and began to sit up straighter, which brought him even more firmly in contact with the issue at hand; and then froze, as the fact of what he was leaning back against registered.

"Um," Jiang Cheng said, and could come up with nothing further to say.

Wei Wuxian flushed an incandescent shade of red Jiang Cheng had never before seen, and scrambled upright and off the bed, nearly kneeing Jiang Cheng in the process. "I!" he said, with the bright edge of panic, "Don't think this is working!" He grabbed his papers up from the chest, dropped his brush, visibly considered retrieving it and decided not to, and concluded, "I'm going to go, uh-- go! now! And do some stuff! To fix it!"

With this display of amazing eloquence, Wei Wuxian fled out the tent like someone had lit his tail on fire.

Jiang Cheng took his pillow and shoved it over his face and then laughed until he cried. Serves you right, Wei Wuxian!

[alessandriana]

jiang yanli defended wei wuxian to anyone who dared to talk shit about him.

wei wuxian would rather say he died of natural causes than let wen ning think jiang cheng killed him.

jiang cheng was ready to make every excuse to the cultivation world for remaining associated with wei wuxian but wei wuxian wasn't going to let him be disgraced on his behalf.

jiang yanli traveled to the burial mounds herself just to give wei wuxian soup and show him her wedding dress.

jiang cheng kept chenqing in perfect condition.

jiang cheng hunted down every cultivator that could possibly be wei wuxian reincarnated but when wei wuxian got reincarnated he just let him go.

jiang yanli loved and protected both jiang cheng and wei wuxian in their broken family, making sure they stood up for each other instead of standing against each other.

jiang cheng would rather sacrifice his dogs and his golden than have to live without wei wuxian.

wei wuxian feels like he owes jiang cheng and jiang yanli his life, but they never wanted his life, they just wanted him.

[alessandriana]

being a writer leads to a genuinely helpful but also very stupid kind of mindfulness where you'll be having a sobbing breakdown or the worst anxiety attack of your life and think "okay, I really need to pay attention to how this feels. so I can incorporate it into my fanfiction."

[alessandriana]

My housemate's cat came into my room while my dictation was on...

[alessandriana]

[alessandriana]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[alessandriana]

Welcome to the 3rd annual Whumpcember!

Once again, it is just me running the event, so please be aware of any human error. I am grateful for all the participation with choosing the blog theme as well as picking this year's prompts! I hope everyone has a good Whumpcember, and now, here are the rules:

Prompts should be answered with whump as the main focus

Fanfic! Gif! Text post! Fanart! Fan video! Any piece of media that you can possibly make that has whump counts!

You can use the prompts any time! Don't feel the need to rush

Though, prompts answered during December will most likely be reblogged

Post anywhere! AO3, Wattapad, Tumblr, or even Fanfic.Net! So as long as you make a Tumblr post with a link to the answered prompt it may be reblogged.

When posting onto Tumblr you can either @ the blog or tag with #whumpcember24 and the day's tag, such as #whumpcember24 day1

Don't forget to add any warnings necessary, such as NSFW or sexual content

An AO3 Collection will go out on December 1 and close January 1, it's not mandatory, but if you want your works saved in a collection, make sure you get it in on time!

At the end of the month a masterpost will go out to all participants and a badge you can save stating that you are either a participant or completionist. In order to be on the masterpost though, you will have to fill out a google form at the end of month; don't worry it'll take two minutes!

If you have any more questions, send me an ask, but please read the FAQ first!

Written Prompt list below:

Day 1: Broken Bones

Day 2: "This Is Your Fault"

Day 3: Begging

Day 4: "This Isn't My Blood"

Day 5: Concussion

Day 6: "Please Stop"

Day 7: Kidnapped

Day 8: "No. Not Like This"

Day 9: Shaking

Day 10: "Let Me Help You"

Day 11: Manipulation

Day 12: "I Have Nowhere Else To Go"

Day 13: Trauma

Day 14: "I Never Wanted This"

Day 15: Broken Glass

Day 16: Amnesia

Day 17: Greatest Fear

Day 18: Poisoned

Day 19: Panic Attack

Day 20: "Please Leave"

Day 21: Bruises

Day 22: Hallucinations

Day 23: Overwhelmed

Day 24: Walking On Injuries

Day 25: Healed Wrong

Day 26: Falling

Day 27: Hypothermia

Day 28: Whipped

Day 29: Choked

Day 30: Saying Goodbye

Day 31: Hearing Voices

Alt. 1: Sore Throat

Alt. 2: Memory

Alt. 3: Fire

Alt. 4: Lies

Alt. 5: "You're Allowed To Fall Apart"

Alt. 6: "Could You Stay A Little Longer?"

Alt. 7: Motion Sickness

Alt. 8: Running Away

Alt. 9: Alternative Bandages

Alt. 10: "Tell Me I'm Wrong"

[alessandriana]

The point of fiction is actually to put that guy in a situation™️, and he might try to tell you the point is to then get him out of the situation, WRONG, second situation

[alessandriana]

OMG. Somebody said it out loud.

Disney is absolutely not the only studio doing this though.

It seems to have become standard practice across movies and series everywhere.

Anything that doesn't do it is like a breath of sunlight and fresh air inside a dank musty cave.

It's part of the 'fix it in post-production' epidemic sweeping through the studios. Fix it in post is often used as a time/money-saving measure - and is absolutely part of the same mess that the WGA is fighting against currently.

Rather than fixing things on-set - audio, lighting, something in-frame that shouldn't be, etc. (which is all handled by unionized crew) - they leave it for the CG folks (not unionized) to edit later.

(on ridiculously tight schedules that leave them scrambling, cutting corners, and working inhumane hours)

See also: that part where scripts aren't finished, because the studio won't fully staff the writers room, and won't pay to have writers on-set for day-of-filming script questions and fixes (which could resolve issues such as 'what kind of lighting do we need here?')

Anyway, all this shit we, as audiences, keep complaining about - bad lighting, bad sound, wonky visual effects, over-usage of not-great CGI, stilted acting on green-screen sets, scripts that seem not-quite-finished, costumes that look like they're cheap and flimsy, terrible hair and makeup, films and series that aren't as polished as they could be...

Plus the complaints we have about streaming services and their shenanigans...

All of that is enmeshed in the extreme capitalism that has taken over everything, including entertainment, to the point that studios are abusing their workforce and churning out material that - at best just doesn't live up to its potential - at worst, is just unwatchable shit.

[alessandriana]

This is badass: Medieval Nubian Fashion Brought to Life. Click through to the link because there’s more replica clothing and it is all stunning!

[alessandriana]

Fic writers: have you ever studied writing as a craft (formally or not) or do you just do your thing?

[alessandriana]

People who use AO3, please stop panicking about the new tick boxes you have to agree to before you can access the site.

It's not because of the election - the obligation to provide info under a court order when asked is common with nearly all websites and AO3 doesn't collect as much information in you as, say, Discord does.

You're seeing this because AO3 changed the wording of its Terms of Service recently so now you have to re-agree.

AO3 tries to be as user-friendly as possible internationally, but they still have to abide by the Law where they're based.

The US can issue a warrant to your Internet Service Provider if they have cause to. If you still use Facebook, Instagram or tumblr, I wouldn't panic about your AO3.

[alessandriana]

[alessandriana]

For anyone wanting a link:

Watched Ernst Lubistch's I Don't Want to Be a Man yesterday for a class. 1910s transmasc yaoi goes fucking crazy.

[alessandriana]

There's an open pit in the middle of our office plan that drops down into a bunch of very sharp spikes that kill you instantly. This is bad. People keep falling in there and dying. Someone put a sign up, the other day, all bright yellow so you can't miss it, that says "Beware!!! Spikes!!!"

The office immediately split into two factions over it. One says that if anyone falls in the spike pit it's their own fault for being so stupid and not watching where they're walking, so we should remove the sign. The other says that the sign is an insult, there shouldn't be a spike pit in our office at all, and having the sign up like that is just normalising the existence of the spike pit, so we should remove the sign.

We ended up removing the sign. Probably for the better. Still... for a while there it looked like it might have worked...

[alessandriana]

Pre-series Nate kind of gets treated like an all-purpose international anti-theft cop. But he’s not, he’s specifically an IYS agent so the only cases he would actually be involved in are ones IYS has a stake in.

Which means it’s statistically weird that he and Sophie have crossed paths so many times… unless at some point she started picking IYS-insured targets specifically so he would have to come after her <3

[alessandriana]

new variant on “your boos mean nothing; I’ve seen what makes you cheer”