ckret2

[ckret2]

i know the writing process is different for everyone, but do you have any tips for writing fanfics? i used to write alot of original stories but i havent put anything actually on paper in years (just livin in my head). i wanted to pick it back up and feel like fanfics would be a good entry point since id have alot to work with right from the beginning. unfortunately i dont really remember how to start. i also know that i never finished anything. a mix of not knowing how and having too many ideas so i would just hop to the next thing ^^' once i got started i think eveything just kinda flowed on its own tho. maybe checkin some bullet points i made to keep me on track, but i know a proper outline never really worked for me.

now at first your question sounds like "do you have tips for writing fanfic (as separate from original fiction)" but then it sounds like your question is "do you have tips for how to start writing if you used to write but don't know how to get going again," which is a different question and it doesn't really matter if you're writing fic or not. So i'm gonna aim more at that second question.

Considering that you've mentioned you have trouble with 1) starting stories, and 2) finishing stories, my best bit of advice is: shuffle through all the ideas floating around in your head right now. Find the smallest one. if you're like me you probably can't tell a 50,000 word idea from a 1,000,000 word idea—but you can probably tell a 100 word idea from a novel.

do you have any story ideas that are only a scene or two long, maybe a story that can be told within a single conversation between characters? or do you have a longer idea, but inside of it is a scene that you can structure into its own stand-alone story that has a completed narrative and would be coherent even to someone who hasn't read the rest of the idea it comes from?

Write that first. Do not start the long idea now matter how enchanting it is. Do the small one. Reassure yourself that, because it's small, you won't have to put off the big beautiful epic novel idea for very long, so you'll feel less tempted to jump over to it.

when you're just getting going (or just getting going again) one of the best things you can do for yourself is build confidence in your own ability to finish stories. even if that means, for a while, you're sticking to much simpler, shorter stories than the grand epics you're dreaming about. Plus it'll get you some practice in figuring out how to end things before you've invested tens of thousands of words just to realize you don't know how to wrap it up.

For a while I used to do "writing warmups," where each day I'd take a story idea and a notebook and I'd give myself one page to tell the whole story, MAYBE two pages. And it HAD to be finished.

An exercise like that might work for you if you're trying to dip your toes back into writing and if you need practice finishing stories.

[ckret2]

I just made a new sideblog and found out this setting is disabled by default.

This means that ALL new blogs will NOT have a [username].tumblr.com page. Not only that, but they will not have any themes besides the mobile-default.

As someone who really likes custom themes and Tumblr still having a fully customizable profile page, please turn this on!

You can make a website for your tumblr blog that is entirely your own!

Finding posts on your URL.tumblr.com page is much easier due to the ability to use your Archive and url.tumblr.com/tagged/[tag] pages!

Visiting your mutual's tumblr pages will become much more fun if they do the same! I used to always associate blogs with the themes they had, but that's sadly not possible anymore :(

If Tumblr themes die out, it will truly be an end of an era for the internet, and the future will hold only mobile-orientated, endless-scroll design devoid of personality.

Even if you don't like themes, this is a move that almost destroys Tumblr's origin as a blogging website and showcases the takeover of social-media-sameness.

Having your own URL and custom theme is fun! Try it today!!!

Edit: I focused on promoting custom themes but I do encourage people to simply turn on this setting for the URL. You can pick a free tumblr theme or even leave on the tumblr mobile-orientated default!

[ckret2]

the last episode aired in season 4 should have been Jack vs Aku. That way we'd end on one last Aku battle (albeit a very silly one), go into a years-long hiatus with the message "but the battles and the quest will continue," and—most importantly—leave us on a note of "Jack and Aku have been fighting for so long that they're both getting kind of weird with it."

Smash cut to fifty years later, "oh, okay, they've gotten VERY weird."

[ckret2]

Can I be honest? I don’t like the ‘Jack’s family sword was made by literal gods’ retcon that was created in the Birth of Evil two parter and doubled down on in the final season. It might be a minor thing in the grand scheme of the series but I think it paradoxically takes away from the mythological and mysterious aspect of the weapon which is significant to Jack’s character and the story at large.

Originally earlier in the series it was alluded to a few times that the sword was made by Jack’s ancestors, oweing to potentially why he was the only one that could wield it. With the added theme that it was made through human persistence and hope (intrinsic themes to Jack’s journey and origin) to battle against evil. Maintaining that the sword was this incredibly old relic that grew in power over time would also have an interesting parallel to Aku as a villain. In addition this sword of pure good magic would be a nice nod to cursed swords in Japanese mythology.

I actually like that they give Aku an origin in that he is grown from the seed of a primordial evil (hello recurring Aku burned tree motif) and wasn’t a conscious being until Jack’s father initially tried to stop the terror that the shard of evil brought. I think if he had done so with the sword that Jack later takes up after his training it would have been more cohesive within the story when it comes to Ashi and her journey as a character. The thing that creates you is also what ultimately destroys you.

[ckret2]

This'll probably sound like a weird question but i'm genuinely curious about others' opinions (i'm stuck in a bit of a bind); do you tgink writing an outline or even a semi-rambly 'this is kinda what I think SHOULD happen' counts as writing in the sort way of 'write every day' means? Do you find that it genuinely encourages forward progress?

I've written a 30k word outline for a 300k word fic.

And a 40k word outline for a 130k word fic.

And 250k words of outlining and brainstorming (in progress) for 720k words of fic (in progress)

I just spent three months writing a 55k word outline for a fic i'm just starting.

Everyone writes differently. Some people find outlines stifling. I find them essential.

And writing a quarter million words of outline isn't a free action. that takes time out of your day. it takes time out of a whole lot of days.

Even if someone else's outlines are only five sentences long—how are they gonna have time to write it if they don't spend writing time on it? You supposed to spend time and energy brainstorming and typing out a sketchy version of the story and then that doesn't count towards your daily Telling A Story labor time? You've gotta do all that work and then say your "work" didn't officially start until you're telling the story in the form of prose?

Of course it should count toward daily writing. You're doing the same thing you're doing when you're "really writing" and it's drawing on the same wells of energy and creativity the "real writing" does.

[ckret2]

Im going to TRY and start doing twitch streams reading fanfics on FRIDAYS at 6:30 CST! Starting TONIGHT!

Ill be starting with reading WAAGZ by @ckret2 from the beginning! Because I've already read it and have also re-read it aloud once before so its good to begin with! Heres the link to read along!

6:30pm CST!

[ckret2]

Dw if you dont see this in time, its short notice, but im streaming myself doing a live podfic for WAAGZ at 6:30cst tonight!

https://www.tumblr.com/marsupials-of-mars/792618909841997824/wasting-away-again-in-the-goldilocks-zone?source=share

I'll likely be offline then, but I'm posting for anyone else who wants to attend!

[ckret2]

Chapter 101 of human Bill Cipher slowly getting back up to his Bill Ciphery tricks in the Mystery Shack: poker night with a ghost, and trying to recruit a dream demon to do all the dream demony tricks Bill can't anymore. And Bill yelling a whole bunch of physically improbable threats.

####

Bill said, "So the thing I said last night."

Eddy nodded. "Uh huh?"

"About not invading the dreams of the girl twin."

"Yeah?"

"You ignored it, didn't you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Eddy, who was wearing a pink sweater that depicted a knife dripping glittery red yarn blood and said "KNIFE to meet you!"

The triangle rolled his eye. "Well, apparently you didn't traumatize her, so I'll let it slide—this time. Now, come on." He snapped his fingers, and a floating table appeared in the void. "I promised you dream training, didn't I?"

####

Eddy squinted at the cards on the table. There were three 8's: the 8 of hearts, the 8 of spades, and the 8 of clubs.

He squinted at his own cards. The 2 of clubs and the 5 of spades.

He had a guaranteed win if he could get four of a kind. He focused his full concentration on imagining that the 5 was the 8 of diamonds, and then—with the precision of an expert who'd been lucid dreaming for decades—let his attention slip from his cards for just a fraction of a section, long enough for his subconscious to relabel his cards: the 2 of hearts and the 8 of diamonds.

Satisfied, he lowered his hand and glanced at the cards on the table.

There were two jacks and a queen.

"Hey!" Eddy slapped his cards down. "You're cheating!"

Bill placed one slim black hand over his bow tie, blinking his big eye innocently. "Moi?"

"There were three 8's on the table a second ago!"

"You're crazy, these were always��two jacks and a queen!" Bill said. "And personally, I'm offended that you were trying to imagine those cards were 8's! For shame."

"I was not—!" Eddy grumbled and threw his cards down. "Let's just start another hand."

In his experience, this was how dream poker usually went.

This was Bill's idea of training in dream manipulation skills. According to him, playing poker was to lucid dreaming what waxing a car was to karate: if you could master the first skill, it gave you the practice and muscle memory necessary to master the second one. At least that was how it worked in the 80s movie Karate Car Washers. Eddy got the distinct impression that the real goal here was for him to learn how to out-cheat Bill.

The triangle had set up a card table in the middle of the endless expanse of empty night sky and distant grid lines that typically made up his dreamscape. Eddy didn't know what the significance of the space was—parts of Bill's memories were locked down tighter than psychic Fort Knox—but he figured it was the closest he'd ever get to being an astronaut, which was pretty cool and not otherwise a viable career option for a dead ghost comedian murderer who occasionally killed people with terrifyingly witty puns, so he'd decided not to examine it too deeply.

As the cards magically shuffled and dealt themselves, Bill said, "By the way, while you're here—I had a little problem I was hoping you could help out with."

Eddy hadn't expected Bill to try to cash in his favor so soon. "Yeah? What kind of problem?" He speared his cards with the spork attached to his cutlery glove and inspected them.

"See, I was in a bit of legal trouble recently—"

"Interdimensional legal trouble or human legal trouble?"

Bill laughed. "Buddy, if I started talking about the interdimensional legal trouble, we'd be here long enough to make Rip Van Winkle's coma look like an afternoon siesta. No, I'm talking about the human stuff."

"Then whatever it is, I've got your back one hundred percent." He was no friend to cops. They'd thought poorly of his decision to kidnap local teens and tie them up so he could try out his stand-up routines on them and ask what they thought—and they really hadn't appreciated it when he'd tried to escape them by dropping a king-sized comforter over their heads like a net and then paused in his escape to crack a "pigs in a blanket" joke. Last joke he'd ever made. (Worth it. Although in retrospect, if he'd opted to hog-tie them, he might still be alive.)

"Knew I could count on you," Bill said. "But my problem right now isn't the feds; it's figuring out who's the snitch that tried to sic 'em on me. I have three suspects. I've got a pal investigating two of them; it's the third that's the problem. Obviously, I can't just ask her if she sent in the tip. I can't ask someone else to ask her because I don't want anybody to know I'm who the feds were looking for. I'm not in a position to intimidate her. At most I can unnerve her and hope she slips up, but that's just as likely to backfire. If I could just invade her mind to check..." He shrugged helplessly. At some point while talking about his limitations as a human, during a split second when Eddy hadn't quite been fully paying attention to Bill's appearance, he'd shifted from triangle to human.

"And that's where I come in?" Eddy guessed.

"Bingo! Just dig around in her subconscious a bit, see what she was up to early last week, let me know if she's the one who sold me out. If you wanna torment her a bit too, fine by me, just don't get my name involved in it."

"Sure!" He snapped his fingers, and a cake appeared on the card table. "Piece of cake. Who's the target?"

"A part-time resident, one Melody Grue," Bill said. "Only female human in average breeding age range in the shack. She sleeps in the master bed when she stays over, can't miss her."

Ice water filled Eddy's dead veins. "Her? The dirty blonde with the ponytail?" He laughed nervously. "No way, José. I'm not messing with that."

"What, why not? She's got zero psychic defenses, she's an easy target."

"Because—" Eddy's voice automatically dropped, "another dream demon's already staked out that turf. A sleep paralysis demon. Nasty piece of work."

"Pssh, yeah? And? I've seen that guy, so what?" Bill shrugged. "It's just a normal sleep paralysis demon."

Eddy stared at Bill like he'd just been told Armageddon was starting and replied whatever, only one horseman is riding. "And 'normal' sleep paralysis demons are terrifying!"

Bill bristled; between glances he'd shifted back into a triangle, puffing larger and flickering red with indignation. "Oh, what, so you're scared of that clown, what about me? I'm a hundred times the dream demon it could ever be and I'm the one asking you to dig around in her skull. Don't you think maybe you should be worried about the consequences of crossing me!"

"We're playing dream poker together," Eddy pointed out. "And you use lucid dreaming to cheat. I'm not intimidated by you."

Bill deflated and shifted back to yellow. "All right, all right, I get it! I won you over with my irresistible charms and now you can't find me scary. That's fine. If you won't dig into her head, I'll wake up and ask the sleep paralysis demon to do it instead."

"Wh—are you crazy?! Don't you know what a sleep paralysis demon is? Do you know what they eat?!"

"They can't even enter REM cycles," Bill said scornfully, "just spy on them through the window without being able to unlock the door."

"So you've got a lot in common, huh."

Bill flicked a card at Eddy's face. "No, I'm cursed. They're just pathetic. And a lot less useful to me than you woulda been. But hey, if you're feeling—"

Eddy suddenly found himself covered in a thick layer of feathers.

"—chicken, then I'll just have to ask it for help instead." He moved his queen. "Check."

Eddy yanked out several handfuls of feathers, spit out more, and tried to focus on the game so he'd forget the other feathers long enough for them to disappear. "Why do you think it would help you? We're their prey. It'll suck your soul dry." How had he ended up in check so quickly? He tentatively moved his bishop to block the queen.

"Please! A single mosquito has better odds of exsanguinating a whole human than a sleep paralysis demon does of hollowing out a human soul. The stress and exhaustion kills their victims faster than the psychophagy does," Bill said. "And they love me! I'm Bill Cipher! The top hat man!" He flicked the brim of his top hat. "They come to me all the time asking me how to do their jobs better! Heck, maybe I've even worked with this one before, I can't tell half of them apart. I'll offer the kid a bargain: it gives me the info I need, and in return I'll give it the advice it needs." He moved his queen again, dodging around the bishop. 

"What kind of advice does a sleep paralysis demon need? I don't think it's having any trouble getting lunch, I've heard it scare her awake." He picked up a pawn, then stopped. "Wait. When did we start playing chess?"

"Whoops! My mistake! Had chess on the brain when I fell asleep. And I host a lot more chess games than poker nights in this place." Bill casually flipped the chess board away into space and a new deck of cards dropped down from the heavens to land on the table.

"Anyway! It's not just feeding; it's assigned to her. It's trying to drive Melody away from town. But it's stupid—these guys always are—it doesn't have a clue how humans think or what it'll actually take to make her leave. I'll bet you a hundred to one that it thinks if it shows her a scary monster enough times she'll just move to another town. I dunno what it's disguising itself as these days, but last I saw a year ago it was stupid things like horror movie monsters and the creepy lifeguard at the town pool, you know the guy?" Bill dealt the cards again.

"Wow, really? That's all it does? That won't get it anywhere." But Eddy voiced his opinion in a low mutter, not sure whether the sleep paralysis demon could hear them from inside Bill's dreamscape. "Being scary isn't enough to break a human. It's got to prey on her insecurities."

"Exactly! You get it, you're a comedian," Bill said. "If it wants her out of town, it needs to break her connections to the things keeping her here. Say, take her fiancé's form, use his voice, say things that would break her heart. She'll know it's a dream, of course—but she'll still hear those words in her head every time she looks at him. It'll slowly erode her trust in ways Questiony will never be able to fix, because it's all happening in her head."

Eddy nodded in approval of the plan. "Is his name really 'Questiony'?"

"Nah, he just wears those t-shirts with the question marks whenever he's off work. Anyway, if it can get me proof from inside her mind that she reported the shack to the feds, maybe I can slip that info to Questiony, make him lose trust in her. If Melody and Questiony break up, she'll have nothing to keep her in Gravity Falls—in fact, she'll be running as fast as she can! I scratch its back, it scratches mine." Bill's eye curved into a mischievous smirk. "What's a movie monster compared to heartbreak?"

####

Melody woke to the too-familiar grip of sleep paralysis crushing her bones down into the mattress.

Her heart rate crept up even before she saw anything, because she knew she would; and it never took her long to find it.

This time, her nightmare has camouflaged itself, its sharp angles blending into the corners of the dresser and the desk and their shadows until she caught the faint gleam of moonlight on its white eye. It drifted away from its station from the wall like—well—like something out of a dream; like a deflating balloon whose dangling string kept it floating at eye level above the ground as a breeze pushed it around the room, its shape eerily still and unshifting as it moved:

Bill Cipher. Yet again, Bill Cipher, as she'd seen him last summer, a triangle with razor thin limbs, sickly yellow and shadow black. His body did not twitch as he reached the end of the bed and floated up, higher, over it, his bloodshot eye staring fixedly forward. It wasn't until he was over her legs that his pupil snapped down to stare at her.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Knowing it was a dream never seemed to lessen the terror. Maybe tonight she'd be able to move her limbs before she had to open her eyes, and when she did she'd find the nightmare was gone.

No such luck tonight. Above her, she could hear a high raspy hiss that wasn't quite a breath but she didn't know what else to call it; and she could hear as it sank closer. She could feel the sharp tips of its claws on her throat—

Something hammered on the bedroom door. Bill's voice came through—the real Bill—shouting so loudly that his voice cracked in anger: "HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!"

Melody's eyes flew open—something she knew better than to do during sleep paralysis. But instead of taking advantage of her error to lunge at her face, the nightmare floating over her immediately latched onto the wall and climbed to the ceiling like a lizard, its triangular shape dissolving into an indistinct shadow as it went. It slipped out through the crack at the top of the bedroom door.

Melody sat bolt upright with a gasp. Soos sat up beside her a little more slowly, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Bill's voice receded from the door as he shouted: "That's right, you little cretin, I'm talking to—hey! Hey! Get back here! Don't you slither away from me when I'm yelling at you! Who the hell do you think you are—me?! I'll eat your eyeballs like candied cherries!"

"Whu's goin' on?" Soos asked, still trying to focus his bleary eyes on Melody. 

"I don't know." Although she had a guess so wild she couldn't even believe it herself. She slipped out of bed, grabbed up the baseball bat Soos kept by the bed for self-defense, and cracked open the door.

Bill's voice was heading downstairs—"You've just made the biggest mistake of your life, jack! If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll boil your bones to make carcinogenic glue, I'll tan your hide with your own pulped brain matter to make psychic parchment, I'll congeal your blood and grind it into powder to use as ink, and I'll use it all to write a letter to the hat man that trained you, explaining what a stupid waste of hypnopompic space you are!"

"Bill?" Melody called. "What the heck's going on?"

"I'm about to execute this loser for the crime of being the most boneheaded motherf—" There was a bang as—Melody realized as she reached the entryway—Bill walked straight into the back door like he'd momentarily forgotten it was there. "HEY!" Bill pounded on the door with both fists like he'd also momentarily forgotten that he'd forgotten how to open doors and thought he could knock it down. "Come back here, you coward! Do you have any idea who I am?! I am the dream demon of dream demons, I'm the King of the Nightmare Realm, I've been invading dreamscapes since before anything in your universe evolved the capacity to dream, I'm your god and lord and master and winner of Sexiest Nightmare Of The Year ten separate times, how dare you wear my face over your ugly mug like a cheap costume—!"

"What's going on?" Soos asked again, this time awake enough to actually process the scene around him. "Did somebody break in?"

Melody struggled to reconcile what she thought was happening with the knowledge that it couldn't be happening, and said uncertainly, "I... I think Bill's yelling at my nightmare?"

"Bill?" Ford said. Bill immediately broke off his assault on the back door and whipped around to face him. Ford was squinting into the entryway from the hall, hair rumpled and glasses askew, clearly having just been woken. "What in the world is going on?"

Bill sucked in a shaky breath. "Nothing!" His fists were trembling at his sides. "Nothing happened. Just—" He swallowed hard. "Had a nightmare. Must've been sleepwalking."

Ford nodded slowly, but exchanged a glance with Melody. He looked about as convinced as she felt. 

Tentatively, Soos asked, "Was the nightmare you had... real?" Bill shot him a dirty look.

"What do you know?" Melody asked. "How did you know what I was dreaming about?"

"Oh, come on," Bill said, "you do a little bit of three a.m. yelling and everyone gangs up to interrogate you—?"

"Bill," Melody snapped.

"Did you know what she's dreaming?" Ford asked, clearly just trying to figure out what was happening here rather than actually interrogating Bill. 

"Back off," Bill snarled, viciously enough it almost made Melody flinch. He pointed a finger at Ford like a gun, "You dropped out, you don't get to pick and choose when you want to be my student," and then at Melody, "and I'm so sorry, but you've never wanted to talk to me before! Why do I owe you a conversation now?"

Melody spluttered in disbelief before she got her words under her, "B—because you were spying on me in my sleep through the door?!"

"You can't prove that," Bill said. "Anyway, I don't do free favors for someone who still wishes I was locked up in some secret government military prison!"

Soos tentatively raised a hand. "I don't want to see you locked in a secret prison. And, um, I don't think I dropped out from any of your classes. Can you tell me what's going on?"

"Ohhh, no, Jesús," Bill said, "I have never asked you for any favors, I don't owe you anything. If you think I'm about to fall on my knees in gratitude just because you don't want me in prison—"

"Whoa, dude! Dude, is that why you're so mad at me?" Soos asked. "Do you think I've been helping you and stuff because I want something from you? No way, I'm just trying to be nice, that's all—"

"I know. I know. I know you're just 'trying to be nice.'" He repeated the quote with a sarcastic sneer. He stalked toward Soos to jab a finger in his chest, "I know what you're like, I'm not stupid—"

Melody shoved Bill back. "Hey! Leave Soos alone. Whatever you're so mad about, don't take it out on him!"

Bill turned his snarl on her; but instead of launching another verbal attack, he grit his teeth and turned his gaze up the stairs as if she was no longer worth so much as looking at. "Ah, whatever," he muttered, not quite as casual sounding as he probably hoped. "Forget you losers, I've got a poker game to get back to." He shoved past Soos and Melody to stomp up the stairs. As he made the left hand turn at the landing and disappeared up into the darkness, he started muttering to himself, "Can you believe the gall of that demon? When I get my hands on it..."

All three remained silent until Bill's mutters faded away. "Which one of us do you think he was calling a demon?" Soos asked.

"I'm not sure it was any of us," Ford said slowly. "What was that about Bill... spying on you? And seeing your nightmare? It wouldn't happen to be a hipster with a glove covered in cutlery who makes bad puns, would it?"

"What? No. I've never seen anything like that," Melody said.

"Then we may have more than one dream invader in the house," Ford muttered. "Would you be willing to describe yours?"

She didn't talk to many people about her dreams—only her family, people who were likely to be impacted by her poor sleep like Soos, and her doctors. Ford wasn't a medical doctor—but he had a few doctorates, and she was beginning to wonder if maybe her dreams weren't as much a medical issue as she'd thought.

And as much as Melody wanted to stomp upstairs after Bill and demand answers from him, she doubted he'd give anything up. She'd have better odds if she had an ally on her side who knew how to handle him.

"Yeah, um—maybe we should talk. This might be your field. And I don't think I'll be getting back to sleep for a while." Melody tilted her head toward the kitchen. "How much do you know about sleep paralysis?"

Ford hesitated. "A few things," he admitted. He headed toward the gift shop. "Hold on—let me get my journal from downstairs. I should take notes."

#####

(I don't think any of this chapter was impacted by TBOB tbh, except maybe the fact that he calls people "jack" if he doesn't know their names and doesn't respect them.

Plot's really getting rolling now! I'm looking forward to hearing what y'all think!)

[ckret2]

A haunted doll mistaking a creepy android to be a bigger, stronger, haunted doll, and the creepy android mistaking the haunted doll as a smaller, sassier android.

Android: [gets hit with rain water and short circuits] Haunted Doll: H̷O̷L̴Y̷ ̶W̵A̷T̸E̷R̶ ̵W̴A̵T̴C̵H̴ ̶O̶U̷T̴

Haunted Doll, dying: N̶E̵E̸D̷ ̷S̸O̵U̵L̸S̷ Android: [opens the haunted doll’s back and replaces the batteries] Haunted Doll: A̶C̶C̷E̷P̸T̶A̷B̸L̵E̴ ̷S̴U̴B̸S̵T̸I̷T̷U̴T̵E̴

Android: [transfers their data into a better body] Haunted Doll: A̸ ̵F̴L̸A̷W̵L̷E̴S̵S̷ ̷B̶O̸D̶Y̵ ̷P̶O̵S̶S̵E̷S̶S̵I̷O̷N̴

[ckret2]

Do you by chance know any other fictional diseases like hanahaki?

The only things I've found so far are called "Hanakanjō” where flowers grow from the body due to intense emotions.

And "Hanauso", the one where flowers grow out of your neck when your beloved one is lying to you. You’re unable to talk until they tell you the truth

Otherwise I just keep finding fictional zombie viruses or plagues and the occasional vampire and werewolf diseases

If you mean "fictional [diseases like hanahaki]," can't help you.

If you mean "[fictional diseases] like hanahaki," the best I can do is suggest browsing TVTropes.

[ckret2]

my ravenous lust for fancy yogurts will never be satiated. i will gradually devour denser and denser yogurts until i am eating skyr with the consistency of fudge and consuming enough daily protein to let me squeeze sand into glass with my bare hands

[ckret2]

Just wondering, so do you think that the High Priestess or Ashi's mother ever told Ashi and her sisters that Aku made his presence here before, while omitting that he is their actual father and his encounter left her pregnant after drinking his essence?

Like did that High Priestess say Aku once came here and he will only come back once they killed the Samurai?

I feel like probably not. She seemed suspiciously cagey about letting the girls feel too "close" to Aku—as in, didn't let them know they have a personal connection to him—so I think she'd also be cagey about letting the girls know the cult once was (and might later be) physically close to him.

Especially since like... they apparently never summoned him again? Even though they clearly know how to do it? And he seemed chill with it? And he might be down for being worshiped some more? Like if ur god is cool with coming over to ur house and ur an obsessive cult leader why wouldn't u want him doing that as much as possible

If she tells the girls Aku visited once, then they start asking why, and how they got him there, and then they wanna do it, since apparently it can be done... and I don't think the priestess wants that.

So she might've told them that there's a chance they could meet Aku in the future—that it's an honor they could earn by killing Jack—but I doubt she mentioned he'd been there in the past.

And she might not even have told them they could meet Aku at all. She might've just said they've gotta kill Jack to protect the world and if they never meet Aku then oh well, protecting the world and their god is its own reward.

[ckret2]

recognizing my own suffering reflected back to me in the faces of my fellow ADHDers has given me the strength to stop scrolling tumblr so i can write. thank you both.

i mean this in a neutral way as someone who does not have adhd, but how do you navigate wanting to stay with your current hyperfixation/interest while also wanting to watch/read/do other stuff that might move you into a different hyperfixation? if that makes sense!

if i think it might move me into a different hyperfixation i simply do not watch/read/do it. 🙂👍

"But what if you WANT to—" I just don't do it. 🙂👍👍 I avoid doing the things I like. That's my solution.

"What if you watch/read/do it anyway?" Well then my hyperfixation is in danger.

[ckret2]

@marsupials-of-mars submitted:

The goldilocks animation has been stalled at the very end for a WHILE now because im participating in a fan episode and my brain cant focus on anything else, here's an old doodle I found that I dont think I ever posted its from like a year ago or somethin

look at his face, he's so 🥺

[ckret2]

i mean this in a neutral way as someone who does not have adhd, but how do you navigate wanting to stay with your current hyperfixation/interest while also wanting to watch/read/do other stuff that might move you into a different hyperfixation? if that makes sense!

if i think it might move me into a different hyperfixation i simply do not watch/read/do it. 🙂👍

"But what if you WANT to—" I just don't do it. 🙂👍👍 I avoid doing the things I like. That's my solution.

"What if you watch/read/do it anyway?" Well then my hyperfixation is in danger.

[ckret2]

What are your thoughts on The Amazing digital circus? If you watched it ofc

I haven't watched it. That's the whole of my opinion.

[ckret2]

weird ass shapeshifter shadow body