#I think I've gotten a lot better at making myself make things shorter

[royalarchivist]

Tallulah: tio pac and fit are so Perfecta by Miranda coded 🥹💕

Phil: This is Pac and Fit? [Dramatically zooms-in on the fanart and makes them "sing" along to the music]

Chat: he's LITERALLY making a ship amv right now

Tallulah: How things got weird 😞

Make sure to show love to the artist who drew this fanart!

[ Full clip ]

[midnight-mourning]

*Taps mic* Heard y'all like Moon around here, you're in luck, this one's for you

massive, MASSIVE thank you to @lunarmoves for beta-reading this chapter!!

She put a lot of time and effort into making my BS readable for y'all and it's greatly appreciated <3 <3 <3

Shay also makes really good dca stuff (also sebastian solace but I know very little about the fish tbh) and you should check her out!

Also, happy 200k+!!! We're only 297k from truly becoming the 500k enemies to lovers slowburn of our dreams lmaoooo

But for real I apologize for such a delay with this one. If you'd like to hear my excuses/reasoning they're below the cut, or you can just go read the chapter whatever suits ya ^-^

Tag list (if you would like added please see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

CW: medical stuff & additionally a bit of unreality mentions

Okay going to try and keep this simple bc I've said parts of it before

So as most of you know, I've been sick for 3 months now

I've now been on two rounds of steroids, and currently on my third round of antibiotics, which are basically keep me fucntional, not improving

besides general discomfort and pain, my memory has been pretty shot at times, I will go through the day and barely remember what I did/what I'm doing/what I need to do

as someone who had brain fog caused by covid a few years ago, this was genuinely a scary experience because ultimately, this has been worse

i've felt out of control of my body, having times where I'm mid thought and then instantly lose it

this is not my normal, I usually pride myself on my memory, so losing it has been incredibly devastating and scary

this was not helped by the fact that the quick care I went to (THREE TIMES for this) basically kind of sort of tried to gaslight me into believing nothing could be done and that it's not an infection

so not only has this entire thing has gotten dragged out so much more, which makes me sad tbh, but I've also felt like I've been going crazy bc it felt like no one was believing me when i said I was sick and not getting any better (including friends, family, coworkers etc, though unintentional on their parts to be fair)

I feel like I've lost three months of my life and coming to terms with that has been, yeah

on top of all that, I'm still in school AND doing grad stuff, and while the school side of things has been okay (thank god), grad's had it's moments, won't get into it but have had multiple issues with my advisor that have been at times just really tough to deal with

Confused spirit got pushed to the back burner, because i quite literally at times could not think, and when it comes to this fic, where there's multiple ongoing plot threads, characterizations, lore, and so on to keep track of, it was just, impossible to me to even consider writing for it

having shorter stuff like promptober, the oneshots and such was great to keep me writing, and also still interact with everyone in the community, plus i had a lot of fun with them so that helped too

this is all to say that I do sincerly apologize for the delay, and at the very least I should've clearly communicated about there being a hiatus, when this all started I thought i'd be down for two weeks max, then as that time kept increasing I just kept putting it off and putting it off because i thought i was going to get better, and then I didn't

I do this for fun and for nothing else, fic writing isn't content (it's engaging with fandom) and i have to remind myself of that sometimes but given that I've been around in some capacity on and off I feel I should've said something in some regard

Having said all that, I'm doing okay now! Still sick, but as long as I'm on meds I'm functional, stuff is getting managable with grad, and hopefully have some fun things coming up irl! Point is, the last three months haven't been the best, but they've been alright, due in part to all the support you all have given me, so thank you for that, can't say it enough :)

Okay, I think that just about covers it, thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you did <3

[cityofmeliora]

about Terzo's height...

while i LOVE LOVE LOVE short king Terzo (as a short king myself), he might actually be the tallest brother and the implications are SO FUNNY.

so the idea of short king Terzo seems to have gotten really popular because of the clip from Unholy / Unplugged in Los Angeles where he says:

"Now look... people have had the decency to comment on the fact that without my hat being on, I'm a little bit, uh... short." Los Angeles, CA (Unholy / Unplugged, 2015)

but the thing is, he says that right before he raises the microphone. he was joking about the fact that, at all of the Unholy / Unplugged shows, the mic stand was set way too low for him.

in Baltimore and Phoenix he makes it more clear:

"But these last couple days, I've come out... you've noticed me not wearing a hat. Some people have noticed that, 'He's a little bit shorter than I thought!' [...] But what has happened a couple days in a row now is that I come out and the microphone is like, [gestures at chest height] about here. I'm not that short!" Baltimore, MD (Unholy / Unplugged, 2015)

"Now... we've got a fundamental problem here. [...] It is my– what people expect my height to be. Yes, I will– I will agree that myself without hat is not very, uh... imposing. But I am a little bit taller than this." Phoenix, AZ (Unholy / Unplugged, 2015)

the joke was that people were assuming he was much shorter than he actually was.

he doesn't appear to be super short! if you consider every Papa to be the height that they are in real life, they'd all be the same height as TF (about 5'8" / 173cm) due to the fact that they are all played by him. BUT there have been occasions when two Papas have been present at the same time: during the coronation ceremonies. in Secondo's coronation, he's shown to be about the same height as Primo. and in Terzo's coronation, he's shown to be MUCH taller than Secondo.

Metal Myths: Ghost pt. 2 (April 2022)

Metal Myths: Ghost pt. 2 (April 2022)

Youtube Video

so Terzo might be the tallest brother. he is still insecure about his height, though.

"Is there a sound engineer here? Hello. Could you please give me a little spooky reverb. Just a slight. I need to sound taller than I am." Brooklyn, NYC (Unholy / Unplugged, 2015)

not so insecure that he can't joke about it, but he will joke about it and then remind you that he's not that short!

and Terzo wanting to be taller seems so in-character for him. for the pursuit of better, y'know? hahaha

obviously, he's not a very tall guy either. he's a little short. just a little below average. he's a perfectly normal height, but he seems to have become more insecure about it because he has a reputation for being short, and every time people see him in person they're like "huh. you're taller than i thought you'd be!" and he's like "wtf?? uhhh. thanks???? 🤨😓"

i genuinely think it's sooo so so so funny that the fandom does this to him too LOL.

for the record: the thing about Terzo allegedly being 4'9" is totally fake. there are no sources for that. and i hate misinformation, so i will not stand for people spreading that as if it's canon. that said, if you headcanon Terzo being 4'9" anyway, i think you're incredibly based and that rules actually–

again, i love short king Terzo and i accept all headcanons!! i just think this particular angle has not been explored a lot and it is simply hilarious to me.

[clumsiestgiantess]

Chapter 23 of The Other-world Universe; Erica finally gets to see Alexis’ world! But at what cost?

all chapters listed here

[Welcome to the Real World]

It was almost surreal, having Erica in my own world.  I stood stunned for a moment before a pained shriek filled the air.  Immediately, I put Erica down on the surface of the basement’s pool table, scared that I must've grabbed her a bit too hard.  However, once my hands dropped away, I realized it was something else entirely.  Erica fell to the ground, writhing in pain as small electrical currents buzzed around her.  I could only sit and watch in concern as she cried out, unsure what was happening.  My hands hovered around her — wanting to hold her yet knowing that moving her would make the pain worse.

Shit!  Do I bring her back?!  It’s.. It’s the same thing that happened to me when I came to her world.  I briefly wondered if Erica would get the same abilities I had when I was electrocuted, but as the shock quickly faded away, I realized that this was a shorter version of what I'd experienced.  She hadn't been through the powerful lightning storm like I had.  She would likely be her normal self, despite the painful way she'd arrived.

Slowly, Erica sat up, taking in a few exhausted breaths.  "What-  What the fuck was that?" she gasped.  "That's the reason I've avoided bringing you here," I answered her, "I really didn’t know what might happen to you while crossing over to my world.  All the electrical stuff is similar to what happened to me the first time I came to your world, only a lot shorter."  

With shaking legs, Erica stood up and took in the massive room around her, mouth agape and eyes wide.  After the initial shock of the sheer scale of everything wore off, she turned back to me, suddenly full of hostility.  "I told you I don't want to be here!  Take me back!  Now!"  I shook my head, "Erica please just listen; if I go back there the founders are going to tell me to fight.  The portal giants are going to come for the Cavern Town, and they’re going to catch me!”  

“But what about me?  What if I would rather stay there and face things rather than try to live in this gigantic place that isn’t made to fit me?  It’s.. I don’t like it here!”  I reached out and stroked her arm, “You’ll be better off here, trust me."  Erica reared backwards as if I'd struck her.  "Shut up.  Shut the fuck up!  Don't you dare tell me what you think would be better for me!  I know what's best for me, not you!  Alexis, you are not making me live a life I don't want to!  Not again!"  Speechless, I bent over slightly beside the table, trying to read her expression.  "I can't go back," I whispered softly, "I just.. I can't."  “So you’re gonna keep me here?!”

Erica stood seething for a moment, then turned on her heel and stormed away from me down the length of the pool table.  "Where are you going?"  "Away from you!"  "You can't get off this table, it's too high up."  I shuddered as she let out a maniacal chuckle.  "Just you watch me."

My face scrunched in concern.  She's not actually going to try to climb down from there, right?  Instantly, I had about twenty flashbacks of Erica doing various stupid things that could've gotten her killed.  Oh my god, she's going to try to climb down from there.  "Erica, stop," I insisted, but I could tell she was determined to get away.  She certainly wasn't going to listen to reason right then, especially after comparing her current situation to my controlling her.  I would never control her, not ever again.  

I'm just protecting her, and myself.  Why can't she see that?  Before Erica could do something dangerous, I grabbed a small decorative birdcage from a pile of discarded things that were meant for the dumpster, and swept her inside.  I knew that if I tried to grab her, she would only dodge me again.  This way, I could keep her contained without accidentally hurting her or letting her escape.  "Have you lost your goddamn mind!?" she yelped as she fell inside, "What do you think you're doing!?"  

"Let’s see,” I began sarcastically.  “I brought you here so you can be safe from the world, and I put you in there to keep you safe from yourself," I explained matter-of-factly.  Erica stared at me, appalled.  "This is fucked-up!  You're treating me like.. like a pet!  Let me the hell out of here right fucking now before I lose my shit!"  "I think you've already lost it," I joked.  "Alexis, I'm not kidding, let me out!"  Her voice switched from infuriated to fearful mid-sentence.

"Nope.  I'm going to keep you in there until you can calm down."  So saying, I stepped over to the couch with the little cage and carefully sat, avoiding too much pain from the injuries I'd gained in the fight.  I placed the birdcage on the ottoman in front of me — Erica grasping at the thin wire bars for support.  I watched her wildly look around her enclosure while easing myself down to lay on the cushions like I had before.  A few heavy breaths rasped from my lungs as my growing bruises ached.

"Look at you in there," I cooed playfully, turning my head to look at Erica.  "You look like you are my little pet."  I reached over to wiggle my fingers through the cage at her, but froze as I saw her eyes moisten with tears. 

"Alexis...?"  her voice tapered off in a mixture of uncertainty and fear that sobered me instantly.  "Alexis, please; I'm seriously begging you.  Don't do this to me.  This isn't funny.  I- I'm scared."  I bit my lip, hand drifting backwards as I realized what I'd done.  Capturing her like this was like taking away her free will all over again.  Only this time, I was abusing my physical power over her to do it.  I had only been messing around, calling her my pet; I didn’t actually intend to keep her locked away.  I was tired and in pain and keeping her there was the easiest solution to fix this awful situation, but she didn't know that.  For all Erica knew, this would be her life now.

Slowly, I sat back up through the throbbing of my bruises and moved down to kneel in front of the cage so we could be more level with eachother.  The way I was kneeling hurt my back immensely, but it was too late to get back up.  I slid the cage’s metal door open, unlocking it from the outside.  Erica rushed to the opening, edging cautiously past my hand which held the door.  Once she was outside, I picked up the cage and gently tossed it at the junk pile.  We held each other's gaze for a moment before I tore mine away.  

"I'm such an awful person," I whispered, turning so I wouldn’t have to face her.  "Erica, I'm so so sorry.  I would never take over your life again, I swear.  It's just.. I’m scared.”  My voice weakened into a sob and I took a shaking breath to quickly recover, slowly turning back to her.  "I don't want to live in your world anymore, but I don't want to live without you.  And I didn't want to make the same mistake of abandoning you again, so I wanted to take you with me.  I didn’t know what to do, I just want you with me.  I'm sorry.  I'm really, really sorry.  Please forgive me, Erica.  Please."  

I was practically in tears then.  My already horrible voice had dropped to a ragged whisper.  The room was so deathly silent for what felt like an eternity.  Finally, Erica held out her hands to me — a sign for me to come to her.  I delicately rested my chin on top of the ottoman, letting her palms gently fall to my skin.

"It's alright," Erica said in a half whisper, voice wobbly with tears.  "Just don't scare me like that again, ok?"  She leaned forward on her toes, resting her forehead on the bridge of my nose.  "We'll figure out a better way to solve this.  I'll help you."  “I- I didn’t mean it, I promise,” I whimpered, "I don't want to scare you.”  "You usually don't," she replied kindly, "but Alexis…"  I looked up at her, "You need to listen to me, alright?  The only thing you do that scares me is not listening, because then I feel like I don't have a choice.  I have the right to get a say in what we do, or at the very least, what I do.  Do you understand?"  I pulled away from her to give a full nod.  "We need to be together on things from now on if I'm going to live here."  "You mean you'll stay?"  "I'll think about it."  

Everything quieted for a moment as we both calmed down.  "You do realize that if we stay here, we'd be leaving everyone in my world to be captured, right?  Or.. Or killed?"  Of course I knew that.  That’s why I’d put off the very idea of abandoning everything until then.  I nodded solemnly.  “I want to stay and protect people, but you saw what happened out there,” I said, gesturing to the bruises purpling on my arms and throat. There were dozens more beneath my clothing; I could feel them.  “I can’t save everyone on my own.”  

“You could always make me a weapon.  Then you won’t have to fight alone.”  "Erica, we've talked about this.  I'm not putting you in danger."  She crossed her arms, looking pointedly up at me.  "What did I just say about listening to me?"  I sighed, "I am listening, I just don't want you to get hurt."  Erica shook her head slightly, "Is that your excuse for everything?  I can protect myself, you know."

That is my excuse for everything, isn't it? I thought solemnly.  It's the justification behind at least half the things I do for her.  I hesitated a moment, "But, Erica.. can you?  Whenever I'm not with you it seems like you're in trouble," I explained carefully.  "When I didn't stay up to protect you, you were taken by the Cavern Town people, when I left for four years, I found you chained up.  Even when I left you with that money the very first time, you fell into debt after you used it all."  Erica glanced away from me, holding her arms tighter against herself.  "I'm not trying to be rude or arrogant,” I explained, “I'm genuinely asking you because I've seen so much proof that you can't take care of yourself."

The room dropped into dead silence for the longest time.  I could tell Erica was struggling with something internally.  Her expression was a mixture of pain and sorrow and regret — all shifting around overlapping eachother.  She took in a shuddering breath of air and finally turned to me.  

"I guess..  I guess you would think that, wouldn't you?  You've only known me so long; you've only seen what's happened to me after John and I... broke up.  He made me into this — twisted my mind.  I wasn't always like this.  I wasn't always this desperate and needy, and I don't want to be."  Her downcast expression slowly shifted into a small smile as she gazed up at me, "You're helping me fix that, though.  I just needed someone to help shield the blows for a little while so I could get back on my own two feet.  And you've done that for me, both figuratively and literally, and for that I can never thank you enough.  That's part of the reason I fell for you."

I started tearing up again, this time with happiness rather than guilt.  Reaching an upturned hand over the ottoman, I watched as Erica effortlessly stepped onto it.  I gently held her in front of me, taking in her tiny form like it was the very first time I was seeing her.  It was beyond belief to have Erica standing there, in my own world.  It felt like a dream.  

"I think I'm ready to stand on my own again," Erica said after a while.  "Now, that doesn't mean I don't want you around.  And it certainly doesn't mean that I don't love you, because I do.  But no one wants to feel like they can't protect themself, including me.  I can still be on my own and depend on you.  The same way you're on your own, but sometimes depend on me.  That's what friends, and girlfriends, are for."  Nodding slightly, I carefully held Erica between a few of my fingers as I moved one hand to wipe the tears from my eyes.  After she was settled safely in the palm of my hand again, I cleared my throat.  "Alright, I'll draw up some weapon plans for you tomorrow, but right now I need some rest.  My bruises are killing me; I don't know how I'm going to hide them from my family."

Erica's eyes widened at the mention of my relatives.  "You-  I mean-  They don't know about me, right?  They don't know about my world?"  I shook my head, slowly sitting up to stand with the least amount of pain.  Still, I had to take several large breaths to combat it.  Erica flinched and gave me a sympathetic look as I winced.  I could tell she was going to say something about my injuries, but I quickly moved on.

"I'll have to hide you as well.  Though, I think that'll actually be easier than hiding my battle wounds."  Erica chuckled breathily, "Do you have a pocket for me to hide in?"  "Of course I do.  It's just my pants pocket though."  "Ugh," Erica grumbled, "I guess I can deal with it for now."  

I opened one of my pockets with a free hand, and held up the one Erica sat on like a platform, aligned with the opening.  Carefully, she slid down inside.  "Boy, does this bring back memories," she muttered as she situated herself at the bottom of her hiding place.  "It's just until we get to my room, then I'll lock the door and bring you out, ok?"  Erica nodded and I let the pocket fall over her.

As nonchalantly as I could, I ascended the stairs to the main floor.  Thankfully, the only person there was my grandfather.  He was already fast asleep on the couch with the TV still depicting the night's baseball game.  Tiptoeing into my room down the hall, I triple-checked that my door was locked before scooping Erica out of my pocket.  I really did not want my brother or my father accidently walking in on me and Erica.  Then, I'd have a lot of explaining to do.  Fortunately, my room is separate from the others' — far down a hallway past one of the ‘guest’ bedrooms that was really used for storage.

Gazing down at my pants pocket, I hesitated just inches away from its opening.  The last time I'd moved her from one, Erica had panicked in my grasp.  I slowly lifted it open, uncertainly wondering how to get her out without scaring her.  Before I could think of a solution, Erica reached up for my fingers.  However, they were out of her reach and she disappointedly lowered herself back down.  "It's alright," she reassured me, "Pick me up.  I trust you."  Nodding slightly, I slid a few fingers down next to her and hoisted her out.  I tried to be a bit more gentle with the way I held her, but there just wasn't enough room for both Erica and my hand inside the pocket.  I ended up lifting her out in a very similar fashion to the first time I'd done it at the lake — her tiny torso pinched lightly between my fingers.

As quickly as I could without disorenting her, I shifted my hand so she could sit comfortably again.  I watched nervously as she quietly gazed around my room.  "Wow, so this is where you used to live," Erica said absentmindedly, "This is your old bedroom, right?  I think I remember you saying something about your own apartment somewhere?"  I nodded, briefly wondering when I'd even told her that.  I'd probably mentioned it some late night when we'd both stayed up due to Erica's awful nightmares.  

"I knew you had a place in your own world, but I never imagined…  I mean, everything's so massive.  I feel like I'm looking at an optical illusion; like none of this is actually real."  She chuckled, looking back at me as I let her down on my old desk.  "Is it weird that I think you look out of place with everything being your size?  Suddenly, you just..  I don't know…"  Erica's voice tapered off, thinking hard.  "You look normal for once.  I'm the outlier here."  I watched intently as Erica took in everything around her.  This was another reason I hadn't previously brought her to my world.  It would take her a while to get used to the scale.  All her talk about optical illusions and being the outlier reminded me of my first week in the other-world.  

When Erica's gaze finally landed on me again, it was filled with wonder.  "In my world I would sometimes call you a giant, but seeing you in your own world it's so weird.  I guess I've known for years that you're a normal person and not some crazy otherworldly being, but I don't think it ever really clicked until just now."

I gently reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.  It had gotten ruffled up when she hid in my pocket.  I could see her blush slightly as she reached up and held my single finger in her hands.  “I’m sorry I haven’t been listening to you, Erica," I apologized earnestly.  "I’ll try to be better.  Any time you feel like I’m ignoring you, just tell me and I’ll listen.  I promise.”  Her small smile brightened, instantly melting my heart.  “Thank you,” Erica whispered, slightly choked up.  We held each other's gazes briefly before I cleared my throat and turned away, bringing my finger away from her side.  It hurt my back to stay leaning close to her like that.

“Alright, if you’re going to live here for a bit, then we’ll have to set up somewhere for you to stay.”  "Don't plan on anything too extended," Erica said, "Remember, we still have one last shot at saving my world."  I nodded, getting up, "You need something, though.  What are you going to sleep on?"  While we spoke, I gathered a washcloth or two from my bathroom for her to use as covers.  Erica watched me set things up with a confused expression.  "Why am I sleeping on rags?" she asked me, sounding almost offended.  "There's a perfectly good bed right there."

Following her gesture, I realized she was talking about my full-sized bed.  "Umm, that one's taken.  It's mine."  Erica rolled her eyes, "Haven't you heard of sharing?"  I blinked, "You-  But-  You could easily get lost in all that!  Or I could crush you, or-"  "Alexis," she said in a sing-song voice, "I don't feel like I'm being listened to."  Sighing, I gave Erica a tired look.  "I just gave you a free pass to let you do whatever you want, didn't I?"  She shrugged, "Hey, you're the one who offered it to me."  "Fine," I relented, "You can sleep in my bed with me."  

"Yes!" Erica cheered, pumping her fist in the air.  I smiled softly.  I adore when she's happy.  I don't get to see it nearly as often as I should.  Once I got ready for bed, I offered Erica my outstretched hand.   She hopped in giddily and I made my way to the bed.  Laying on it was so comforting that I felt my eyes tear up.  Finally the throbbing pain from my cuts and bruises subsided.

Tilting my hand, I let Erica slide off it and onto a pillow I drew to my side.  Immediately, she sank onto its surface and snuggled into it, sighing comfortably.  "Wow!  I need a bed like this in my world!"  "This would probably fit in a football stadium," I laughed.  She grumbled, "I ment a smaller one."  "Isn't that just a larger beanbag chair?"  Erica cast me an annoyed glance between the fabric of my pillow.  "No," she countered, “My thing is different.  And better." 

I smiled and slid closer, enveloping her in a giant-sized kiss.  As my lips grazed over her whole face, Erica sat up slowly and pulled herself into them.  She held out for as long as she could, but eventually, she had to pull away to take a breath of air.  

Even after our kiss ended, I kept my face next to hers.  Erica snuggled closer to me, spooning the bridge of my nose as she stared lovingly into my eyes.  Our gazes whispered 'I love you' in a thousand silent ways — too much to say, but just enough to mean everything we wanted.  Carefully, I brought my hand up behind her.  My thumb stroked her arm gently, lulling her into sleep.  Butterflies and dopamine filled me up inside as I watched Erica's eyelids droop lower and lower.

Just before she fell unconscious, Erica reached up sleepily and pulled my thumb in closer.  She cuddled it to her chest as the rest of my fingers fell into place around her.  I cautiously slid my nose away from her, instead bringing my hand up against her back.  With a small sigh, Erica scooted into my grasp, adjusting herself so that she fit perfectly against the palm of my hand.  At last, her breathing slowed and her body fell slack, drifting into a deep sleep.  She was absolutely and awe-inspiringly adorable.  I held her for a while, watching her tiny chest rise and fall with each breath.  

Every time a moment like that happened, I was always struck by her small size.  That night was no different; the feeling was only heightened by the normalcy of the rest of the world around me.  How idiotic I was to think Erica might live with me there.  She was so small she couldn't even walk the length of my bed without getting tired.

The difference in our heights always leaves us at a dramatic impasse.  Erica couldn’t live in a world where everything was twenty or thirty times her size.  I couldn’t live in a world where everything was scaled to the size of my hand or smaller.  But however screwed up our living situation was, there was no denying our love for eachother.  

Today, Erica forgave me so easily.  I hadn't made a big deal of it because we'd moved on to bigger issues with the other-world, but I was fascinated by Erica's ability to not let anything faze her.  Though, I knew through years of experience that half the time she just bottled everything up to do so.  Cautiously, I slid my hand out from behind her, leaned over, and gently kissed her side.  “I love you so much,” I whispered softly.  Gently stroking her arm one last time, I lay back on my own bed for the first time in a long time.  I gave myself about a foot of room between myself and Erica, just so I wouldn't accidentally crush her, and fell asleep.

I found that my distancing hadn't actually helped in the slightest once I woke up the next morning, however.  Still partially asleep, I lifted my arms in a lazy stretch when I heard a tiny gasp and froze.  Slowly lowering my arms, I felt Erica's body shift as she carefully sat up.  I'd been laying on my side with Erica snuggled on my pillow between my shoulder and my chin.  She backed up a bit to see my face properly.  Nudging her closer with my arm, I delicately kissed her good morning.

"You woke up before me, didn't you?" I asked, mimicking the question she'd asked me once before.  "There's no way you just happened to end up that close to me."  Erica smiled happily, yawning after her rest.  I sat up myself, watching wryly as my weight was lifted from the pillow, causing Erica to slide down it into the divot I made in the mattress.  She scoffed in a surprised kind of way and looked vertically up at me from the halfway upside-down position she'd fallen in.

"Well, that's one way to make me get up for the day!" she exclaimed, moving to get herself upright again.  I chuckled, grabbing her gently and lifting her up to my face.  Expertly, I fiddled with her tiny form until it was cupped rightside-up in the palm of my hand.  Gently, I smoothed out her hair so it wasn’t so wild and bedraggled. Erica’s face went red, but she let herself go slack until I’d righted her.  She’d never really admitted she liked it aloud, but every time I messed with her in that way, her face would blush furiously.

I wished we could've had more time alone together, but a sudden knock at my bedroom door snapped me out of my sleepy early morning fuzz.  "Alexis, did you need me to get you breakfast today?  I know you said you were sick.  Do you want me to make you anything?"  My dad’s muffled voice came through my bedroom door, checking up on me.  

"Yeah, if you could make me some microwave waffles or something like that, that'll be great, thanks," I called back.  Erica gave me an impressed glance.  "Wow, breakfast in bed, huh?  Nice."  I nodded, "He thinks I'm sick because I used it as an excuse for him to leave me alone yesterday."  "Why?"  "I didn't want him to see my bruises."  Both Erica's voice and expression softened, "How are they today?  Any better?"  I sighed, "They don't feel much better."

Keeping Erica in a loose fist, I stood up and unlocked my door so my dad could come in when he was done making breakfast.  Erica giggled and my heart fluttered in my chest.  "What?" I asked, sliding back into bed and opening my hand.  "Why'd you get all giggly?"  "I donno," Erica replied passively, "It's just fun when you pick me up like that."  "You like being carried around like a little trinket I keep in my pocket?" I asked jokingly, setting her down on my bed.  She laughed as I threw a blanket over her.  "Yeah, I guess I do." 

As we waited for the food, I asked her to stay under my covers so my dad wouldn't see her.  "I'm not exactly ready to tell him about you yet," I explained, "The fact that I have a girlfriend would be surprising enough as it is.  Nevermind the fact that you're three inches tall."  "Oh, come on.  I have to be taller than that, right?"  “Hmm, I don’t actually know, but we could find out.”

I got up and sauntered back over to my desk where there was a ruler lying in one of the drawers.  Taking it over to my bed, I brought it up to Erica’s side.  She stepped in front of it, examining it for a moment before taking a surprised gasp.  “Oh.. Oh my god, I really am only...” she paused to compare her height to the ruler’s lined face.  “Three.. and four.  3.4 inches tall.  Huh.”  “That’s only my world’s measurements, though,” I reminded her.  “For all intents and purposes you’re-” I stopped, realizing I didn’t actually know how tall she was in her own world.  “Yeah.  We’ll go back to my world today, right?”  I nodded and she stepped back under the covers so she wouldn’t be seen, and I put a pillow over my head to cover the bruises I felt there.

After my dad brought me waffles, I slid out of bed behind him and locked my door again.  "There, you can come back out now," I announced to Erica.  Hearing a squeal of delight, I stepped back over to find Erica lying face-first on one of the waffles, happily pulling off a piece and scarfing it down.  "I take it that one's yours, then?"  Erica nodded happily, mouth full.  I brought the plate and her over to my desk and ate my breakfast, watching her with a wide grin.  "Ok, though I don't want to live here, staying in your house on vacation or something might not be all that bad," Erica mused.

After I'd finished my meal and Erica finished her oversized waffle, I readied myself for the day, leaving her on the surface of my desk.  I had to stifle a few yelps of pain as I slid on a new outfit — the fabric rubbing up against my bruises.  They were scattered on my arms, legs, and throat, but I tried to look at their awfulness as little as possible.  I quickly downed some pain meds and moved on. Despite the chilly November weather, I wore shorts and a flowy short-sleeved shirt to least disrupt my injuries.  Its kinda cold, but my muscles are killing me.  I guess I’ll just sit with a blanket on.

When I returned, I broke off the tip of a pencil and handed it to Erica so we could start planning, but she just stood there, staring at me.  “Step back for a second?” she asked.  Confusedly, I took a few steps away from the desk.  She pressed her hand to her mouth and looked me over with creased brows.  “You.. look awful.  Are you feeling ok?  Alexis, I can wait a bit longer to get a weapon if-”  “Those portal people are going to come for the Cavern Town.  We can’t wait.  Not if we want to go back and try to save everyone again.”  

Erica was silent for a moment, “Won’t the barrier stop them?”  “It won’t stop them from destroying the mountains around it.  It won’t stop them from setting up one of those camps waiting for the food and water to run out so they can grab people when they try to escape.  Just a barrier isn’t enough to deter them — not when they can use that place to get to me.  It’s only enough to prevent them from immediately taking people. That’s why the founders still want me there to protect everyone.  I’m supposed to prevent that from happening.”  “I- I know, but.. have you looked in a mirror lately?”  I exhaled and glanced guiltily away.  “Kind of…  I don’t like seeing how awful it looks.”

With a knowing expression, Erica gestured for me to come closer again.  She extended a hand and I carefully took it between my fingers.  “I know it’s scary.  But your injuries aren’t gonna heal up if you don’t take care of them, love.”  Lifting one of my fingers, she kissed the top of it softly, then let me go, pointing to the door.  “Go.  And don’t come back here until you get some bandages and an ice pack or two, ok?”  I groaned, but got up anyway.  

Erica was definitely understating just how horrid my injuries looked.  Almost the whole side of my head where I was struck with the blunt end of that weapon was purpling and bruised.  Various cuts and bruises had appeared on me overnight, and my throat was slightly swollen like I’d had an allergic reaction to something.  My back was practically one purplish-blue blotch of ugly colors. Of course I felt the pain.  I’d taken as big a dose of pain reliever as I could once I’d left to get ready and Erica wasn’t watching.  However, it almost looked worse than how it felt.  How in the world am I going to keep fighting?

When I returned to Erica, I’d done as she’d asked.  I brought the four ice packs I could find in the freezer and placed them over my biggest bruises.  “Happy now?” I asked my tiny girlfriend as I settled back into my seat.  “Yep.  Now thirty minutes of rest with those ice packs.”  “But the-”  “The Cavern Town is under a barrier.  It’ll be fine.  We can fight every one of those bastards off when you get there.  But you won’t be able to fight if you’re this beaten up.”  I relented, scooped her up, and lay on my stomach on my bed to keep my back upright for the ice packs — spread out in a way that minimized the pain.  Erica sat in front of my head and I looked upwards to see her.  

“When’d you get so damn smart?” I asked her lightheartedly.  Erica laughed, “I think Ivan’s actually managed to rub his smartness off on me a little.”  “And here you are using it to take care of me.”  She nodded, looking me in the eye — her expression a blend of devotion and gratitude.  “It’s about time I returned the favor.”  We shared a soft look for a moment, then Erica stood and stepped over to the side of my head.  There was a very gentle tug on the ice pack I held there, and I lifted it slightly.  Her touch flitted over my bruise for a few moments.  I could hear her wince — her breathing getting harsher as if she could also feel the pain.  “Next time I’m going to keep you safe,” I heard her whisper, “I won’t let this happen to you again.”

I nearly started crying, but I held back my tears and lay there until Erica finally cleared me to get up again.  Hoisting her up into my hand, I leaned in to kiss her but she yelped suddenly, startling me.  “Holy shit, your hands are freezing!  Get me over there and put me right back down before I catch a cold!”  I chuckled and released her to the surface of my desk.  As I sat down, she picked up the piece of lead I’d given her before and stared up at me eagerly.

"Alright, if I'm going to make you a weapon, I'm going to need to visualize how it'll look when it's done.  Did you have something in mind?" I asked, smoothing out a piece of paper in front of us.  Erica nodded, "Kind of.  But I'm not really sure if a weapon my size would even hurt a giant."  "Leave that part to me," I assured her, "I can make some weird things happen if I really want."  "Like a gun that shoots force fields?"  "Exactly."  

As the day went on, Erica and I brainstormed ideas and went through multiple different sketches before we finally had a finished design.  We were in the middle of fleshing out some smaller details when my dad suddenly walked right into the room.  I must've forgotten to lock my door when I snuck out to grab a quick snack.  Immediately, I swept Erica up and hid her on my lap, keeping my legs hidden beneath my desk.  She yelped in surprise, but I hid it behind a fake cough.  In a panic, I tugged the blanket further up on myself and turned my head away so he wouldn’t see the bruising skin.

"What are you working on?" he asked curiously, stepping over to me.  "I thought you were sick?"  "I am," I lied, "but I have to get this stuff done for school."  "Oh, alright.  Just don’t work yourself too hard while you’re not feeling well."  Thankfully he turned away from my desk, uninterested.  "If you need anything, let me know."  "I will, thanks!  Close the door behind you, please."  I hurried him out of my room.

His footsteps faded down the hall, and I eased my chair backwards, hoping I hadn't startled Erica too badly.  She was perfectly fine, only a bit shaken up.  Erica clung to one of my thighs, looking up at me wide-eyed.  "That was way too close.  I thought he saw me for sure!"  I picked her up off my lap and held her in my cupped hands. 

"Are you alright?  I didn't mean to grab you that forcefully."  She shook her head lightly, "It's fine, I'd rather have that than be caught by someone from your world.  It's kinda scary here."  Smiling down at her, I shifted Erica to one hand and took the piece of paper with her weapon's final design in the other.  "How about we head back to your world, then?"  She nodded enthusiastically and I slipped her into my pocket.  That morning I’d chosen a shirt with a chest pocket, so she got to sit up front that time.  

Sneaking out of my room and down the hall, I managed to get partially across the family room before my dad spotted me.  "Hey!  You're out of your room!"  Thinking fast, I made up an excuse for me to go downstairs, yanking my blanket above my head like a hood.  "Yeah!  I- I wanted to take a nap but it's too bright in my room, so I'm going down to the basement.  It's darker down there.  I can rest on the couch."  Thankfully, he bought my story and I continued downstairs.  

Erica peered cautiously out of my pocket as I made my way down one and a half flights of stairs.  Stopping at the side of the strange energy, I carefully placed her on the floor in front of me.  “So, how do you make all your objects?” she asked, eagerly awaiting the weapon we'd created on the paper.  “First I need some supplies,” I told her, dragging out the mess of cardboard before remembering why I’d thrown it in the corner in the first place.  “Wait.. do you want a gemstone like mine?”  She nodded eagerly.

“In that case, I’ll build a rudimentary version of it out of bricks like these,” I explained, bringing over a plastic bin of them. I briefly hesitated before bringing it over, suddenly feeling backwards for showing her the very things I thought her entire world was created of. “I.. I thought your old city was connected to these,” I said quietly, gazing in at the bricks. There were still half-taken-apart structures from the model city stuffed inside the bin.

“Me and my brother built a city from them on a kids table that used to be here, and whatever I built with these would transfer over to your world however I imagined it.  Though, now I’ve found that I can make the design out of anything.”  Erica looked up at me in shock, turned to the empty space, then turned back to me.  I shuddered slightly, “Yeah, there was a time when I thought the cities were the same and everything you knew was fake — the buildings, the people, everything.”  

I had to take a few seconds to look at Erica after I said that — guilt plaguing my thoughts despite her constant reminders that I had grown since then.  She was staring at me as if I'd just told her a massive secret.  “What’s wrong...?”  “You.. That’s why you didn’t care about killing people when you were younger!?" she exclaimed, "I thought you just didn’t care about my kind because we’re so much smaller than you!  Alexis, you didn’t even know we were real?!”

It was so hard to face her.  I turned away and dug noisily through the bin of bricks as if I wasn’t bothered by that simple, horrible fact.  The obnoxiously loud noise eventually came to a halt as I pulled a brick out to examine it.  Erica’s voice suddenly became audible again.  “Hey!  Don’t ignore me; this is serious!” Erica chided.  Glancing tiredly over at her, I grumbled an apology.  “I thought you said you didn’t care about what I did four years ago.  I- I don’t like bringing this up.  Just let it go, alright?”  I continued digging through bricks for the perfect one.  The forced silence left Erica awkwardly watching me as I worked.  

Eventually, I pulled up our notes and slid over to imbue the tiny transparent brick I’d found with both the weapon’s and wearer’s abilities.  “Here,” I said, offering it to Erica on one of my fingertips.  “It’ll change once we go back to your world.”  Instead of taking the glassy plastic, she lifted herself up into my hand instead, gesturing for me to bring her to my shoulder.  I hesitated, but carefully did as she asked.  When my hand was level with the base of my neck, she reached out and flung her arms around me in a small hug.  I sucked in a pained breath of air; the bruises on my neck throbbed angrily.  

Noticing this, Erica pulled away into my hand.  “What was that for?” I asked quietly, “Testing if my injuries still hurt?  I could’ve told you myself that they do.”  She gave me a hard look and knelt on my palm, level with my face.  “Alexis, why didn’t you tell me about this?  Why didn’t you tell me the real reason you used to be so uncaring about my kind?”  I sighed, rubbing my face tiredly with a free hand.  “I didn’t want to scare you any more than I already did.  Because I believed the play table, the bricks, and the city were connected, I thought I could potentially recreate your whole world with new building sets if I wanted.  That’s why controlling people seemed so natural to me.  If you were all toys, it made perfect sense,” I confessed.

“I thought I had power over every aspect of, not just your life, but your whole world. I had domain over everything in existence, and could easily take it back out of existence if I wanted. Obviously, that’s not true,” I added, gesturing to the empty spot.  “But you can see why I didn’t say anything, right?”  Erica nodded slowly, deep in thought. “By the time I realized the truth, it didn’t really matter anymore. I’d left.” I watched Erica close her eyes for a moment, taking everything in.

“Do you want to go back to your world now?” I asked after a while.  “Yeah...”  Erica looked fairly shaken, like she was only half aware of what happened around her.  She didn’t even bat an eye as I stood to my full height.  Lightly, I brushed a finger over her arm and traced it up to her chin, delicately lifting her head up to look at me.  “Erica, you don’t have to worry about the past, ok?  I know better now, I won’t do that ever again, I promise."  She blinked away her thoughts at my touch and smiled warmly up at me.  “I’m not worried about you, silly, I’m worried for you.”  

Erica laughed when she saw the confusion in my eyes.  “I know you wouldn’t do that kind of thing anymore.  I just..  It suddenly makes more sense now.  Why you were so traumatized at the lake and not anytime before that, when you’d done worse.  That was when I made you realize that we were real," she remembered.  "I know I’d be horrified if I found out my mangled childhood toys were actually sentient.”  “That’s.. a bit different.”  “All I’m saying is that I sympathize with you,” Erica stated, patting my finger as I took it back.  “Now let’s head back to my world.  I want to try out my weapon!”

[fairycosmos]

Oh boy, things are extremely rough atm. Can you recommend any healthy coping mechanisms? I literally don’t know a single one that works for me except for self destruction and being on my phone until I don’t feel anything anymore. And apparently that’s not what we’re supposed to do when we’re sad

ok so unfortunately all of my healthy coping mechanisms only half work for me and it's a total gamble whether or not they're going to on any given day. and none of them ever cure my mental illness which is annoying. like they're not fail-proof solutions and a lot of the time they're simply frustrating in fact it often feels laughable to even try them. a walk is not going to make any of this better. but consistency DOES strengthen your coping skills like a weak muscle. like even after 3 days of practicing them i'm like Ok well i feel like shit but i survived without hurting myself and that was the whole point. not a cure but a tool. ok i'm just going to list them because otherwise, i will ramble forever. btw it's ok to do like, even half of one of these per day. there's no need to overwhelm yourself at all :) coping is coping.

meditation - it sounds and feels like bullshit but i follow this youtube called great meditation and they upload 10 min guided meditation sessions and they have truly gotten me through a lot of low moments at this point. sometimes i feel much better after and sometimes i barely notice a difference but the point is i've sat and breathed for a bit

journaling - i thought i needed some sort of mental health diary for this but then i just opened a google doc and followed these mental health journal prompts ( just one every other day, nothing overwhelming, and no pressure to write a lot or to write anything in particular) and it helped me organise my thoughts and notice the patterns i was/am locking myself into. there's also trauma processing prompts online if that is what you're after.

free writing - again just opening a word doc but this time you just write without thinking literally letting go and putting down whatever words your fingers type - no judgement no curation no performance no expectations.

submerging my face in cold water, holding ice cubs - good for grounding.

crying my eyes out, purposefully listening to sad songs or watching sad movies in order to do so - cleansing, painful, tires you out and can make you feel renewed briefly.

breathwork - again there's some great youtube vids for this. i do this 20 min nervous system reset somewhat often, but there's shorter ones that are also very effective. box breathing also helps if you just need a simple go to - breathe in for 4, hold for 4, our for 4.

lie down on a hard surface or the floor with your back straight - another grounding thing. to occupy your mind during this you can name 5 things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one you can taste.

pat your arms, legs, stomach, head, chest gently and breathe deeply - again it can be grounding.

watch trail cam vids of cute animals, use the wikipedia page generator to read up on smth you've never really thought about before, download duolingo and start learning a language. not to become fluent just to get your mind out of the place it's in, even for 5 minutes.

literally just move around especially outside - HATEEE to say it but stretching on your bedroom floor, going for a walk, following an exercise video etc - it can really help you feel a bit less stale and myopic. if it's too much, opening a window is a good start. or simply standing outside your house for 2 minutes and going back in. the air will feel good.

make sure all your bases are covered - have you eaten, have you slept, have you showered, have you talked to someone in the last few days, are you hydrated? if not, make a small move towards doing one of those things. feeling like crap physically only compounds how crap you feel mentally and so the cycle perpetuates.

scream, punch/throw pillows, snap pencils, stab at paper with pens.

affirmations - i'm trying to build a list of ones that resonate with me specifically because a lot of them don't LOL. but there's a lot of good resources online for this. one of my favorite current ones is: doing a little is better than doing nothing. a job half done is better than a job not done at all.

do something creative - it's not about being an artistic genius it's about doing something tangible with your hands and getting out of your head and using the space in your brain to focus on something that doesn't feel doomed. drawing, singing, cooking, playing an instrument, writing, whatever you want. you don't have to have done it before. you can just do it.

talk to someone you trust/care about, let them in even a tiny bit. it's ok to verbalise these things. give them a fair chance to be there for you the way you'd want to be there for them. i know it's hard, all of this is, but it's not impossible. also, look for any communal resources you can find - support groups, local therapists who may offer sliding scale prices that are affordable. it all sucks but it's something.

will add more when/if any come to mind. i'm sorry you're feeling like this and i sincerely hope it all becomes a bit lighter for you soon. sending so much love. x

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Gym Membership - Part 38 (Crosshair)

Summary: The night at the Battle Axe throwing wraps up

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

Hope everyone is doing well, so I've been working on The Reunion, and rereading Upside Down to get myself back into the mode of writing for that story again. With Upside Down before I start posting the new stories, I'm going to be revamping the story a little. Just making the chapters shorter, and editing things I missed. So I'll be doing that once I"m ready to go for the Upside Down. The Reunion is taking a little longer for me to get into. Not because I don't have a clear direction of where I want the story to go, but rather because I just trying to figure out how to get there.

Have a lovely week.

Love oo

Italics - flashback

Warnings: Snooping, flirting, PDA, anger, tension, accusations. I think that's it, if I miss any warnings, please let me know.

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Mel watched Howzer walk away to join his squad. Tonight was their team building exercise. Although he and Layla bantered and flirted a little neither offered to give the other their number. She wondered if maybe that was because Layla was interested in Crosshair or if it had to do with the glare from Cross. 

His reaction only confirmed what she had suspected for a while. 

“Crosshair, what are you doing?” Mel smirked as she saw him holding her phone and reading whatever message she received. She may have gotten upset about the privacy issue, if this had been a few years ago when she first met him, then maybe she would have yanked the phone out of his hand, but Crosshair being Crosshair, she shrugged it off. She was more concerned if it was Wrecker texting her. Actually, she really hoped it wasn’t from Wrecker, as lovely and sweet as the love of her life was, he was a constant mystery when it came to texting. Sometimes he’d send ‘love you’ texts or ‘miss you’ texts, texts asking how the kids were doing, or if she needed him to pick anything up on the way home, and other times, a lot of times it was downright filthy. 

Cross looked up at Mel from his spot on the couch, “Your phone was vibing.”

She simply nodded, as she moved closer putting the bowl of popcorn on top of the coffee table, “Well thanks, you could’ve just told me, though. Was it Wrecker?”

“No”

“Did I get anything interesting?”

“You got a message from Layla,” he mumbled.

“Oh, I see” Mel took the phone out of Cross’ hand, sitting on the couch beside him. She read it quickly, and responded, “She’s very sweet, isn’t she?”

“Pfft, please,” Cross mocked at her statement, ‘like that viper of a woman could ever be sweet’, he thought.

“Well you have to admit, she’s very pretty, and she’s very considerate. She got matching outfits for the girls, despite the age difference.”

“Sure … I guess. I mean if you like her type.”

Mel arched her eyebrow, biting back a smile, “Her type?”

“You know beautiful, smart, attractive …” Crosshair waved his hand in irritation.

“Well, I find her very easy to talk to, regardless of her outer appearance.”

“Whatever,” Cross grumbled. 

Mel didn’t have to be a genius to see he was struggling on his own, with how he felt about her. Maybe if she could help him to see it was okay for him to feel attracted to Layla, that it wouldn’t be disrespecting Avery’s memory. Maybe, it could help him. Maybe. 

“Is she very different from Avery?”

Crosshair let out a deep sigh, as he thought back to his moments with his wife, “Yes. Avery … She knew how to command a room. She was kind but also didn’t allow herself to have to put up with bullsh…”

“Hey, language!”

“Bull shenanigans?” Cross asked, arching his eyebrow.

“Better”

He rolled his eyes, before he continued, “She was someone who everyone looked up to and relied on. She was hella smart. I mean Tech, Kamarie and her could’ve had a three way tie on who was the more brilliant of the three. Plus, she knew how to handle herself.” A small smile appeared on Cross’ lips, “She was amazing.”

It broke Mel’s heart a little, not having had a chance to know this woman who won her brother-in-law’s heart so completely. She could see he was struggling, but she also wanted him to move on especially since he had stopped all his extracurricular activities since Avery passed. He deserved to be happy, so why not try with someone he was attracted to, “You don’t think Layla is like her in any way?”

“No. Avery was one of a kind.”

“Then is it so wrong to admit, you find Layla attractive?” She turned slightly to look at him face-on, which maybe was the wrong decision seeing as how he slowly turned his head to glare at her, “All I’m saying, is that I noticed how you kept looking at her the other day when we ran into her at the grocery store … and at the gym…”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” he growled out, his hand clenching against his knee. 

“Okay, if you say so” Mel held her hand up in surrender, she knew when not to push, “Just promise me one thing” she moved to get off the couch, “don’t hold back simply because you think you should. Not if she makes you happy.”

Mel was pulled from her thoughts, by loud yellingcoming from Rob. Despite how tipsy she and Zai were feeling, everyone sobered up real quick. 

They all moved to join Crosshair and Rob, ready to intervene should the need arise.

“It’s not possible! You’re cheating!” Rob’s voice covered, over all the other noises. 

“Alright, why don’t you draw a target?” Hunter held out the pen to Rob hoping it would calm him down, as soon as the pen was out of his hand, Hunter moved to stand beside Zai, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his side. 

“You’re going to love this,” he whispered in her ear, a subtle smirk appearing.

“Crosshair is great and all,” she teased, “but when am I going to see your skills, habibi?”

Hunter pressed a kiss to the helix of her ear, “Tonight,” he whispered as his hand shifted down to her hip, pulling her almost impossible close to his side. Her face heated as she nudged his ribs, telling him to behave himself. 

Rob walked over to the target beside the one Crosshair was using, placing a tiny dot just outside the centre of the last ring. 

Crosshair simply chuckled as he nodded, “Any restrictions?”

“Yeah, blindfold.”

“Uh, excuse me, but is that safe?” I spoke up at the insanity that was suggested by a very childish man. “I mean anyone could walk out in front of Crosshair and he wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Thank you for the confidence,” he sputtered sarcastically as he rolled his eyes at her.

“Come on …” I tried to placate him, however Echo stopped me, as he tapped my shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure no one crosses in front,” Echo offered, as everyone formed a semi circle around the two targets behind Cross. 

Sofie offered to tie her scarf around Crosshair’s eyes as a makeshift blindfold, once she’d tied it in place and he confirmed he couldn’t see anything, Cross raised his arm. The tension built as other people started to join our circle to watch after Rob’s loud commotion. 

My stomach was in knots, not because he couldn’t hit the mark, but rather I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt. 

Crosshair moved his arm carefully forwards mapping out the angle, he took in a slow breath, moving his arm back just above his head and released the axe. 

The crowd erupted in an uproarious applause and cheer as Crosshair’s axe hit the makeshift target Rob had drawn not even five minutes before. 

Crosshair smirked as he pulled off the blindfold, watching Rob examining the axe. He passed the scarf back to Sofie, nodding his thanks, before walking over with a smile and a swagger in his steps, stopping in front of Layla.

“What did you think?” He didn’t know why he asked her, he didn’t even know why his feet brought him over to her. 

“I think I can see why you’re a sniper.”

He leaned into her ear, his voice barely above a whisper, “Ex-sniper, and try not to broadcast that,” he smirked, before heading over to talk to Tech. 

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[susiecarter]

hi!! hope you're doing well!! just wanted to check in as you haven't updated your projects page in a while (not that you have to! but you're one of my fav writers of all time so just got worried) also, if you're seeing this, how goes the arranged marriage au? (and if u can sprinkle in some writing advice, that'd be great, tho srsly i feel like i'm asking a little too many things lmao so feel free to ignore)

/o\ :D Hi, anon, and thank you so much for checking in! No need to worry—I'm absolutely fine, I've just been ludicrously busy (my job changed somewhat at the end of last year and I acquired New Responsibilities; figuring out how to handle those and still have as much time as I need to write and to reply to comments has taken me six months :'D but I think I've mostly gotten the hang of it, hence me finally starting to catch up on my inboxes both here and on the AO3).

AND, ngl, I am absolutely delighted to hear that you were looking at the Projects page! :D That was honestly three-quarters me experimenting with the new theme I set up, haha (and the reason I threw a "last updated" date on there was 100% because if I got busy, I knew I was definitely going to start forgetting to update that sucker). I've updated it today, and the good news/bad news breakdown on the arranged marriage AU is: good news, I am still working on it; bad news, it is super not done. :'D I've got some other shorter stuff that should be done sooner than that (including some Bruce/Clark!), but I'm hoping to make that this year's Big Long Bruce/Clark Fic. Obviously I also have not made a whole lot of progress on some other things on that list :D but here's hoping I can fix that this summer!

As for writing advice, I've written a few posts in the past about my process, how I approach managing character identity, and my tl;dr thoughts on characterization, pacing, dialogue, and prose rhythm, if you haven't seen one or another of those! Honestly, working on my writing has been a real process of self-discovery for me :'D so I'd say my bottom-line "if you do nothing else, do this" of writing advice is: try things! Try different techniques, try outlining and not outlining, try doing writing exercises and not doing writing exercises, try sitting down to write a few hundred words each day and try only writing when you feel inspired to do it ... Everybody is different, everybody's brains and subconscious creative sources are different, and stuff that works for other people might work for you or it might not, but you won't know if you don't try it all multiple ways and see which approach feels the best to you.

Personally, I used to not outline at all, and I wrote the scenes that came to me in my head first and then went back to fill in the gaps—and that worked okay, it was fine, but as it turns out I'm MUCH better off when I outline every! single! time! and also my odds of completing a story I'm working on increase about 5,000% if I write it straight through from start to finish. I thought I knew what worked the best for me! I was wrong! :'D But I wouldn't have found out I was wrong if I hadn't decided to try outlining, and then decided to ditch how other people outline and outline in the way that worked for me, and then tried writing straight through, tried writing every single day and sucked at it BUT trying to write every day is actually good for me, it's just I have to let myself not do it if it's not working, &c &c. So, yeah, try stuff, don't get too stuck on doing anything one specific way, and sooner or later you'll figure out how you work, what gets your brain doing its best writing, and you'll be able to get it to do its best writing more and more often. :D

[indigo-a-creeping]

Day 9

Solo recovery is going well. Thankfully I'm a quick healer. This is nowhere near as bad as hysterectomy recovery was.

Getting lots of little tingly sensations as my nerves reconnect. It's not a bad feeling, kind of like lots of little springs, or like droplets of water rolling down my chest. But one thing that helps if it's bothering me is lightly tapping/drumming my fingertips across my incision (through the binder).

I pushed myself harder than I needed to for most of my first week, because I wanted to see things around San Francisco. Now that I'm home, I'm settling into more of what I probably should be doing - a walk with my dog in the morning (~20 minutes), some gentle physical therapy stretches (for both feet and chest), and a shorter walk in the afternoon/evening, plus walking around the house/yard. Having a small, well-behaved dog is super helpful, too. I can direct him with my voice and he doesn't pull at the leash much (and if he does, he's only 15 lbs and I can negotiate with him).

I definitely lifted more than was recommended in the first week, and I'm doing less of that now too. I haven't seen or felt any effects from that, but it's possible that my scars will stretch. I'm not terribly concerned about that, though. I left a lot of stuff behind when I left, but ended up with it in a backpack for the airport/plane rather than a hand-held bag. I think that was a good choice, with the options I had.

I've had good range of motion since day 1, and the t-rex arms I heard so much about are not quite the case. It's more that I can't lift my elbows above my shoulders, which isn't a huge deal. One thing I have trouble with is reaching across my chest, but that will improve as I heal.

I drove a little last night, which was successful though I need to be sure to use smaller motions on the steering wheel.

I wasn't really taught how to put on my binder or take care of my incisions (and didn't ask because I'm bad at that), but I've figured it out. I was given some gauze and vaseline gauze that I've been using, and some Aquaphor I need to use more. I have a continuous incision that goes pretty far back behind each armpit and joins in the middle, so it takes a lot of gauze and some work in front of the mirror. I took my first real shower last night, carefully making sure the water didn't hit the incision directly, and it was successful!

One thing I've seen recommended a lot is working on chest muscles before top surgery, and that does help the surgeon get the contours right... I didn't do much of that, and my incision looks great at this point. What I didn't see was working on lower body muscles, which I'm better at. Doesn't do a thing for the surgical site, but it helps a lot when you need to do things for yourself. I never had much trouble getting out of bed, and I can pick up things off the floor without any issues. Do some squats before surgery, it helps!

I'm still getting a lot of swelling here and there, mostly arms and legs. I cut back my sodium intake, but not as low as it could be. If I feel a limb getting too swollen I stretch it around to make sure I maintain circulation. Generally they swell and reduce in a matter of minutes (and swell again).

People often have trouble pooping after anesthesia, and when taking narcotic pain meds. I didn't this time, which I attribute to oatmeal, kombucha, large quantities of hot tea, and moving around. Wiping was tricky at first, but I managed and it's gotten easier.

For the most part I'm trying to just listen to my body. I feel good! A little tired overall, but I'm still adjusting to time zones too. I'm still taking tylenol, but no other meds. I had a little pain when I woke up, but tylenol took care of that. Lots of fluids, protein, and fiber are essential.

[snek-panini]

NaClYoHo day 10 is finished. It did not go according to plan, but it did Go and that's the important thing.

Today (Nov. 10) I:

-Hung up one wall thing. But it was a complicated wall thing, with two nails. And it's awkwardly shaped and was previously living under the kitchen table, so this is a definite improvement.

-Dusted all my bookshelves. A bigger undertaking than in sounds like. I've got 4 floor-to-ceiling Ikea Billies, all with height extensions and extra shelves, so it's a lot of yardage.

-Dusted the smaller shelf with decorative trinkets that sits in the middle of the Billies. This one's shorter and has a different configuration but absolutely everything had to be taken off and dusted individually. That was the most time-consuming part.

-Not sure if I want to count this but I also did some rearranging on the trinket shelf. When we moved in here almost two years ago I kind of just...took stuff from boxes and put it on shelves wherever it fit, without thinking about how it looked. I told myself I'd make it look nice later and then I never did. So since I had to take it all down to dust anyway I put it back in a way that looks better.

I had intended to clean the bathroom today, but I hate cleaning the bathroom and was putting it off. I realized I'd gotten stuck in "can't do anything else until this is done" mode, so I switched gears to do this instead. If I hadn't there's a good chance I would have done nothing today, felt guilty, and still not have had a clean bathroom or clean shelves. I will have to do the bathroom sooner or later but in the meantime I have no guilt and clean shelves and that's better than the alternative.

[broken-clover]

Since it's the one day a year I allow myself to be unrepentantly cringe on the internet I want to do more thoughts about grumpuses with tails because I'm still thinking about it and it's fun to imagine how everyone's would be kinda different, I like how people tend to go with different animals instead of one standardized thing, it makes things more interesting!

Lizbert- Medium-length but incredibly solid and muscular, slightly flat especially by the tip. Hers is sort of like an otter's tail or slightly like a beaver's, useful both for balance and for powerful swimming

Eggabell- Short and looks even shorter due to it curling up like a shiba or a malamute's. Sometimes when the fur blurs together it almost looks like one singular cottontail puff. Her fur isn't super long but it's very dense and hardy against cold weather. Being a doctor, she's sure to groom it regularly, keeping the fur clean and keeping an eye on any wounds.

Filbo- Basically the grumpus concept of 'completely average,' medium length and decently fluffy. His fur tends to frizz either from the panicking or from his constant incidents, crashing into or getting stuck in something, but when well-maintained it's surprisingly soft and pleasant to the touch. It tends to wag a lot when he gets excited.

Wambus- Very long and solid, he's a very tall guy so he needs a big tail to help him balance. Incredibly fluffy as well, he doesn't tend to groom it incredibly often since he works in the dirt everyday so the messiness only makes it look bigger. Imagine something along the lines of a Norwegian forest cat or a Maine coon or even a particularly fluffy labrador

Triffany- Medium length with a bit of a curl. Her fur is thick and part of the reason she doesn't mind researching arid locations is that it's somewhat chinchilla-like as well, so dust helps keep her pelt clean and lessens the likelihood she'll have to worry about water since it's difficult to get out from under the undercoat, especially on the tail since it's harder to reach

Beffica- Relatively short in size but large in fluff volume since the fur is wavy akin the hair she has on her head. Probably intentionally styles it to make it look nice and fancy and worries about its appearance more than most of the other islanders.

Wiggle- Long, thin, and smooth. She's also tall so she needs a big tail to balance, but hers is a lot more sleek and shiny than Wambus,' and she probably grooms it frequently to keep her fur silky. Think your classic shorthair cat. It moves around at much as the rest of her, constantly swishing back and forth, and sometimes other grumpuses feel the instinct to swat at it like kittens do.

Gramble- Stubby little hamster tail. He's short so he doesn't need much counterbalance. His fur is pretty thin all over but he still has most of his tail fur. Sometimes his pet snaks try to grab at it or pinch it but he's gotten better at avoiding them, though he's still nursing a few past nicks

Cromdo- Short but very fluffy, it's one of his few charm points. Similar to a cottontail or most bunnies, with his usual reddish fur on the topside and paler fur on the underside. Very much dislikes being told it's cute even though it is.

Snorpy- Very long and incredibly thin, there's little more than just the bones in it. Short fur that thickens out by the end into a little fluff of curls (most depictions I've seen give Snorpy a kirin-esque tail and I simply cannot imagine him with anything else) During his paranoid episodes he tends to cling onto it and wring it between his hands, so frequently he'll have to bandage parts either for friction burns or from outright spraining it

Floofty- Originally similar to their brother's, though smaller due to them not being as tall. They took most of it off during an unexpected incident in the midst of an experiment years back and it's never quite fully recovered. What fur remains is fairly smooth, but the follicles are mostly burnt away and the tip is completely naked and scar-covered.

Chandlo- Medium-short but, similar to Lizbert, incredibly muscular and solid. If someone gets too close when he's excited it will easily knock them over. Part of his strength training involves trying to see if he can make it any more dexterous. If he has his way, one day Chandlo will he able to lift weights with both his arms and his tail. His fur is short and rather velvety to the touch.

Shelda- Long, similar to the other taller grumps. Hers is notably crooked from prior injuries and a bit of arthritis in the joints. The fur is a little patchy due to her age and tends to hold onto desert dust and the like which can make it look a scraggly. When she reorients herself and shifts her weight you can visibly see her tail move to counterbalance, whereas with most younger grumps it's far more automatic and intuitive

[gettothedancing]

Ok so real talk, I hate that this is true, but the last guy I was talking to on the dating site really hurt my feelings.

The first thing was how he treated my beliefs as a Christian Scientist. I know most people are unfamiliar with it, and I get that. I spend a LOT of time on this site having to explain it and what I do for work (as they are related). It's also usually the reason people decide I am not worth the effort of pursuing a relationship. At which point I either get ghosted, or rejected with a clear message explaining why, or the man tries to convince me into something shorter-term, which I reject immediately on principle as an abstinent virgin.

This guy went further in that he sent me an apologetics article that calls us un-Christian, accuses us of blanket child neglect and abuse, and cherrypicks quotes from our denominational textbook without any deeper understanding of what our terminology means or how various pages connect to each other. I have heard all those accusations before, but I'm just. I'm tired guys. I'm so tired of being condescended to and treated as if I'm some freak who has to prove herself a true follower of Christ. This guy was nondenom and doesn't even believe in the Trinity. He wouldn't even show me a picture of himself. I try to go into any discussion with good-faith and good intentions. But this was an unexpected broadside. I answered all his questions but I know it will make little difference.

The other thing was, after I asked him if he could use a library Internet connection to try and upload a photo, he told me I was "tough", asked me if I would be so tough on my husband, and asked if I really wanted a husband to love and cherish or if I just wanted to be a mom and needed some guy to do it.

i feel like asking for a photo, when mine are readily available and we have been talking for over two weeks, is a very reasonable thing to ask. I have high standards in some regards, but THIS was not one of them. And yes, I have wanted to be a mother basically since I hit puberty, so for about 20 years now.

But I wanted to be a wife even before that point. My first crush was at 7. I've had maybe 200 crushes since then. I have wanted to not be single for a huge amount of my life, and I keep trying to make that happen, and aside from two brief relationships, I have gotten nowhere. Both my dad and sister have married (happily thankfully) since I was 17. I'm grateful for the relationships I have had, because they taught me things about myself and made me a better person.

My sister pointed out that I was speaking bluntly and cynically in my messages, which probably contributed to this breakdown in our convo quite a lot. But I found that people steamrolled over my boundaries when I was more vulnerable, even over text communication. So I stopped being vulnerable.

If the guy is going to treat this like an arranged marriage, where we hammer out all the things we must agree on first, then why should I act like it's some spontaneous romantic connection? He clearly doesn't think of it that way, and he's not telling me anything about himself except what he thinks theologically.

Anyway, I'm not meeting anyone of quality on this site, and I'm done. I've done my due diligence with dating sites, but I think I'm finally completely tired of them. It's been very hard for me to meet people outside of them: I work evenings and weekends, I don't drink or club, and because my schedule is subject to change at any moment, I haven't joined any regular classes or groups the whole 3 years I've lived in this state.

The guy I currently like, I met at work, and he is a friend and may not be romantically interested in me. (My brain is delulu about it so it's hard to tell objectively if he has any interest. I keep telling myself to be cautious and err on the side of 'you're imagining it.') Hence why I was continuing to use the dating site, as the account was prepaid up until next April. But really, that's just sunk-cost mentality talking.

I am turning 30 next month. My parents were 31 and 28 when I was born. They had already been married for 7 years then (college sweethearts). My sister married her only boyfriend, also her college sweetheart, 3.5 years ago, and they got pregnant the first month they tried to.

In my family, every single adult was married by my age, with the sole exception of my lovably weird uncle at 33. The adults who I've asked for advice are at a bit of a loss regarding my case. By my age, most were married with kids or kids on the way. My grandma's advice to meet someone was to volunteer for the GOP. I'm at the point where I'm actually considering doing it. At least it would guarantee some common ground.

I try not to voice my concerns about still being single and childless too much to people other than my sister. I can tell it makes people uncomfortable, since I'm basically saying, "I'm not happy where I am, and no one can tell me what thing(s) to do that could fix it, since any issue I do fix is no guarantee of me finding someone I can connect with, because that's just not how it works." I'm sure my sister is also tired of hearing me say the same things over and over. But I'm tired of saying them. I want to not be in this phase of my life anymore, but I can't force a relationship to happen.

The thing about that 'cart before the horse' accusation, about wanting kids but not a husband, is that it's painfully untrue. I would never willingly become a single mom just to have kids. I want BOTH marriage and motherhood, in the proper order. I am a virgin, yes, but I'm also an adult. I DO WANT a sexual relationship! I just know that it's wrong to have one outside the marriage covenant. I've been tempted, and I've desired people, but I know what the right way to act is, and I have stayed the course. I WANT to have children, preferably of my own, but more than that, I want that companionship. I want that deep abiding friendship that's at the heart of any good marriage. I want to live with someone, and support them, and cook for them, and read with them, and mow the lawn together, and fight about money or the cats or something. I want to find that so badly, and I'm horribly aware of time passing me by, of all the missed opportunities and all my faults.

Fringe benefit: if I was a married woman, or a mother, or both, then maybe I wouldn't be talked down to by people who are married or parents anymore. I'm not an overgrown child just because I haven't had these experiences yet. Just like an adult virgin experiences sexual desire and temptation, a single childless woman can know what she wants from a future marriage and how she would like to act as a mom. I know having the experience is different from thinking about it, but I can't force the experience to happen, and I'm tired of being treated like I'm stupid or naive just because my experience differs.

[byrdstrolls]

Bee does your disguise really work?

"Yeah? I mean its not that difficult for people to believe Hascha Demork had more than one descendant, right? I think most trolls assume because of the hemoanonymity I have some sort of mutation that would make me not want to associate with his bloodline. So I haven't gotten a lot of questions on not using the Monark or Demork name. Also I gained like over thirty pounds."

"But I have been thinking about measures I could take to make it more convincing." She says, the paranoia she's known for still lingering.

"Now that it's really become more clear how... long term this is gonna be, I've really been thinking about getting my horns shaved down, like Dia. Or maybe adding some kind of distracting, very un-twitch-like feature. Like getting piercings or dying my hair. Probably never gonna wear my hair in a french braid again. Maybe cut it shorter."

"Also thinking about maybe... dusting off the old they/them pronouns I used to use in middle school. I don't know. I've always been very fem presenting, even before I came out, and I dont think thats gonna change whatever i use. But now that I'm so far along in my transistion physically I'm a lot more comfortable, I guess, cautiously approaching butch from the other side? I have a lot of respect for Nesseo and their approach to transfemness. I think for a long while I was just so dysphoric that I never tried anything more androgynous or masc in how I dress or refer to myself. Just out of fear it would make my feminine identity sudden no longer be obvious or respected? Because I wasn't as far along in my transition. "

"Hanagi keeps telling me, that I dont have to change my gender identity in anyway to stay undercover. But I think theres a part of me thats kind of curious how it would feel?"

"I've had tunnel vision about a lot of dreams in life and aspects of my self for a long while. You know, I used to define myself by my job, my accomplishments, my presentation."

"And... a lot of that framework I sort of built for understanding who I was and my place in the world just had to be thrown out. Because it was hurting me and everything around me."

"All of that is to say. I'm thinking about a lot of things. I'm not sure the whole question is just how to better the disguise. I'm trying to forgot twitch monark not just as a moniker I cant use because I'm a fugitive but as a way I looked at life that was harmful to me."

This, of course, is probably a thing about the name Twitch many of you have inferred from Aeremi, but Bee is last to the party here on the emotional revelation of the reason she wanted to change her name when dying of infection and barely lucid. She has taken a bit more time to unpack just what exactly she was thinking and feeling than the reader has. And even more time to become comfortable enough to talk about it to an anonymous asker. Being more introspective towards her feelings and admitting them to others is something she is still working on.

[crow-caller]

Hello! I hope you're doing well. I've enjoyed your book reviews on YouTube for the past six or so months (finished The Blessed/Precious Blood a couple hours ago), and they've gotten me a little curious. To my understanding, you do or at least did post book reviews on your blog, some or all of which you went on to turn into videos. As someone who wishes to try his hand at writing book reviews, I was wondering if you had any advice, insights, or sage wisdom into the craft based on your experience. I understand if you'd prefer not to answer, and my apologies if this is something you've already been asked.

Thank you very much for reading, and I hope life treats you well!

I've talked about it a bit before, but only briefly when drunk. It's very annoying on tumblr to search archives anyway. This was the breadth of my advice:

"When I first started, my strategy was a very solid one: divide and conquer. It can be hard to understand your thoughts on a book until you understand it in parts. I usually did it as : premise, plot, characters, writing, other details. Dividing into sections can help put words to feelings you may struggle with. Earlier reviews usually fell into this format, ish. Nowadays I usually put it mostly into a plot summary, discussing issues as they come u— I find this smoother. But really, making sections is incredibly helpful and can really assist in finding your “voice”."

I've been writing reviews for several years now. Like since 2016 actually, I did it first formally as an assignment for uni and was previously writing shorter reviews on goodreads because with my memory issues, I would find I totally forgot half the details of what I read a few months later. This was especially annoying for series!

Reading reviews is a first good step. You don't have to take notes- it's just helpful to read how other people review things, in general. You'll naturally notice stuff you wish they talked about more or where your opinions might differ- it's good to read reviews of stuff you have experience with and don't.

I'd definitely suggest reading say, a negative review of a movie you love and a positive review of a movie you hate. Or book, or whatever. See how the argument is made and where you think the reviewer is being an idiot. See where you wish they went into more detail or where they were caught up on something pointless. I think it can be way more helpful than just reading opinions you agree with!

But also do that. And try different formats and people- I used to read a LOT of AVclub reviews for tv shows and movies I never watched, and reading different styles of review helps.

Honestly, it might be good to even look at my early reviews versus recent and see how I've grown! Even though I normally don't really advocate my oldest stuff as it's just. not as good. But check out Relic and then The Commandment and you might notice some stuff in how I've improved.

It's not just studying though. The best method is really just getting started. When you read/watch/play/whatever something, review it. Start with a skeleton (Plot, characters, world) and get better at linking each subject fluidly. Finding an easy transition is hard but great practice for thinking about something as a whole. Reread your reviews, not just before posting but a few months after the fact.

A lot of my own style is based purely on what I'd most value in a review and I'd suggest you center your work on a similar concept. I wanted long, very detailed reviews that spoiled all the ridiculous twists of books I was never going to read. Not enough people provided that, so I did it myself.

Anyway hope it helps!

[fastcardotmp3]

15 + 17 for fic writer ask my dear dot-friend 🫶🏽✨🩷

senford! gladly for you <3

✨fic asks✨

15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

oooh I'm about to be so pretentious are you ready because!! it is so much fun to make the porn a relevant and thematically vital part of The Plot and I never get to talk about it because the smut is never the stand-out part of any of my fics but! It's important To Me!! I think the bulk of the detail for me comes in the sort of thematic overlay to a sex scene, keeping it visual enough to feel tangible while also injecting The Narrative into it wherever I can. Like, SEFS drops us in the middle of a blowjob scene on page one because how better do you let the reader know you're dropping them in the middle of an established FWB situation? Eddie spends a good half of META just trying to successfully jack off because that entire fic is about failing and trying again and backsliding and trying again. Kas!Chrissy is about how both fridged AND final girls are so stripped of their bodily autonomy and getting on their knees for one another is a demand for it back. Both the steddie and ronance parts of my apocalypse AU deal with their own versions of seeking release in the middle of unending tension LIKE. I'm not gonna say that every sex act I choose for a character is for Thematic Reasons because only most of them are. but still. I have. too much fun with this perhaps. As far as realism goes though, I think it again just depends on the purpose of the scene! If the story at large is dealing with the very realistic hurdles these people are jumping, then yeah, it might feel out of place to include fantastical romance novel-esque smut, but that doesn't mean the fantastical romance novel shouldn't still lean into its own genre. It always, in everything, comes down to what is being said and what will get that point across most accurately, you know? PWP is accomplishing something different than sex in the final act of a longer story and both are good <3 sorry for rambling about smut on main

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writer's block)

In my current bout of not being able to write any of my longer/ more involved ideas, I'm trying to get better at focusing on not getting mad at myself for having that block. I think a lot of my writer's block Moments in the past I've gotten frustrated and overwhelmed and kind of threw my hands up in the air about it, but this time I let myself think more clearly about why I was having trouble writing, and found that letting myself work on shorter, more concise pieces allowed me to put ideas down on paper (even if not for my Big Projects) rather than shutting down entirely. sometimes writer's block is a larger life stressor issue and sometimes it's as simple as you're not working on the right thing try a different wip. I'm still figuring out how to tell the difference let alone how to deal with all the various causes, but looking at the why is always a good starting place I think.

[flownintothesun]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN !!!

NAME: Orion

PRONOUNS: they/them

BEST EXPERIENCE: To be honest, there are a lot of character dynamics I adore — but probably the best experiences are getting to know muns and characters. I've had my fair share of heartbreak and lost friendships/dynamics on this website, but I've also met some of the best people I know. I've changed and grown because of both ic and ooc communication and I just — am awed and love how deeply I've gotten to feel because I chose to come to Tumblr. (Also I think the dynamics I've built with Nonny ic and ooc is very neat and makes me happy and I am super grateful.)

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord, probably. But I don't mind Tumblr DMs either.      

MOST ACTIVE MUSE: Probably Marin, followed by Westley, Francis, Enjolras, Henry, Howl (in that order). But if you take the secret menu muses into account, I've had a lot of muse for Mariano lately too (probably up there with Marin) — just haven't decided if I'm fully integrating him onto Tumblr just yet so I've just been harrassing Nonny lovingly with him.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS:  I've been roleplaying for 20 years now but I've been on Tumblr since 2019. :) ♡

RP PET PEEVE: I have a couple. Probably the biggest one is the purity/callout culture to be honest, and how big scary words get thrown around for fictional content that erases the severity of the word in question when it comes to real life harm. Writing something is not the same as condoning it. People have a lot or reasons to write the content they choose to write, and it is a kindness, not a debt or necessity to tag it or refrain from writing it. People's blogs are first and foremost their safe spaces — although many (myself included) choose to make concessions to accommodate other people. You don't have the right to take someone's peace of mind and safe place away from them because you're squicked by something a fictional character does or is. Block and move on or politely request the content is tagged. There is a huge difference between fictional content and real harm.

PLOTS OR MEMES: Both! I think things work out a lot better with plotting, but I also struggle with it sometimes (worldbuilding isn't my strength in writing, I think) and memes are great icebreakers when braincells aren't complying between the writing partners. A lot of times, sending memes can be a great indicator of interest even if there aren't spoons or you're too shy to reach out yet.     

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: I would love so much to say 'short' replies, but I seem to be perpetually unable to write anything shorter than 3-4 paragraphs unless I'm REALLY trying and condensing down my character.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES: It's interesting because I'd always thought that everyone's muses were at least a little bit of a self-insert — but I've been corrected by two lovely people who don't see themselves in their muses at all. This to say, yes, I think so in my case at least. I can see little pieces of myself in all of my muses. I'm probably most like Francis at my healthiest, though. ♡ I think I carry Francis's romanticism and urges to escape into fantasy and the being in love with love itself. I carry Westley's insecurities and sometimes his snark. I carry Marin's desire to be what other people need, but also to be good enough and loved. I carry Mariano's overthinking and sometimes his seriousness (and also his dad jokes). I carry Lucienne's fierceness in protecting her loved ones (though not to the same extent). I tend to try to take the lead like Enjolras, I am volatile like Howl at times, and I am a poet like Henry.

tagged by the lovely @imprvdente (thank you ♡) tagging hm... let's go with @batteredoptimist ; @dutyworn ; @unfinishedbusincss ; @anderwhohn (when your computer complies ofc ♡) ; @voxvulgi ; @wehavefoundthestars ; and you if you'd like to.

[essektheylyss]

im going a little crazy but huuuuuuge respect gained for you (and all writers, really) im taking a short story class and im fighting for my life out here. deadlines today so it probably won’t matter that much but how do you not despise what youre writing while writing. drawing’s like ok yea ok this is fine but writing. oh my god. :(

Hello! Deadlines are the worst, so sending some solidarity. (Also huge respect for you as an artist! I tend to feel the opposite—I can usually find some reason to keep a piece of writing but the number of times I want to kick a drawing to the curb entirely is HIGH.)

This is a really hard hurdle to get past though, and I don't think there's really a point where any writer always clears it. I recall, if I remember correctly, a pretty prolific writer (possibly Neil Gaiman but don't quote me on that) telling a story about how they had gotten like 60% done on a draft, called up their editor, and went, "This is crap, I'm giving up and moving onto something else, or better yet I'm never writing again," and the editor with utter chill went, "Oh, you're at that point in the writing process. It's fine, keep going." And the writer was gobsmacked to discover this had happened frequently enough that the editor recognized it.

In any case, I do actually have one trick for this, which helps me a lot! This got long and possibly overly extrapolated, so I'm putting it under a cut:

A lot of writing advice focuses on the timeless but, imo, useless mantra of, "Write the bad first draft because you can't edit a blank page." This is useless because it does nothing to tell you how to live with the shit draft, which is hard and discouraging for continuing with the draft, and also, if you're taking one writing course among many courses, you don't have time to labor over a piece in editing for months. Plus, especially with shorter pieces, I don't find laborious editing useful, especially if you're a perfectionist or worried about whether it's good. (Nothing kills my productivity like long-term editing; hence my current suffering, but sometimes it can't be helped.)

HOWEVER, my trick is this: do not focus on quality at all. "Good" is so subjective, and you can drive yourself crazy trying to achieve it. This is of course easier said than done, but what is easier is replacing it with something. I approach everything (whole pieces, individual scenes, bits of dialogue that I want to burn with fire) by asking myself what I am setting out to accomplish with that bit of writing, and then I evaluate or write it by deciding how that could be accomplished.

This could just be what your assignment is (though I find that a bit broad), or what theme or message you want to convey by the end (though I find that getting this specific is kind of stifling and often a bit too nebulous for me, which negates the point of the exercise). What I've found most helpful especially in writing short stories is to decide what emotion I want a piece to make people feel. That way, if I feel like it's crap partway through, I have a really specific way to evaluate it when I read it back; I can go look at other books or stories that make me feel the way I'm trying to make other people feel; and it's a much easier target for both large and small edits than, "Is it good?"

This also really helps my perfectionism, because it doesn't require it to be the best possible way to accomplish the goal—it just has to accomplish the goal itself. There's a lot less qualitative value being placed on it. Some of my writing that other people have liked the most have been things I thought weren't great, but I read it back and decided it accomplished what I wanted it to do regardless of my feelings about its quality, so I posted or submitted it, and it got the reaction I wanted it to.

And being able to hit those targets consistently is definitely a product of years of practice—which brings me to the one other goal that I find useless: having specific publication or posting goals. I spent basically all of my teenage/college years going, "This is Not Good but it's just practice." (My screenwriting professor did think I was crazy for writing so much as practice when I couldn't use the products as samples for various reasons, but good god am I a better writer for it.) I have written short stories for specific themed anthology calls and the worst thing I can do when I'm writing those is to put my goal down as getting accepted to the anthology, because I do the same thing that you're describing and freeze up while I'm writing it.

And your goal might not be a specific emotion—if you like writing to theme or message, do that! If all of that's too limiting to your creativity, focus on the point of the assignment and write to that! And if you don't know what goal to set at all on projects you're doing for practice, you can think of a piece of writing that makes you feel or think something that you thought was great, and evaluate it for why it achieved that, then try to hit that benchmark. Kind of the writing equivalent of artists practicing a specific artist's style while developing their own. (Needless to say, but since I'm saying this publicly, don't try to copy style too closely, and definitely don't plagiarize, both because it's shitty and also because your teacher's plagiarism checker is likely to catch it even if the teacher doesn't.)

Also, obligatory "your mileage may vary"—I am sure this will not work for all writers, and plenty of pantsers will be scandalized by the suggestion of thinking about an end goal before starting, but I really like having the benchmark and find focusing on that the most useful thing I can do when I'm stuck or discouraged, and find that it genuinely improves my writing because it means it's more cohesive in the end.