#Stuck on one thing? Start or work on something else!

[salemlunaa]

𓆉 ˚∘YOU ARE NOT BOUND TO THIS REALITY࿐

stop acting like this place is your home, it’s not. Same thing with those trying to manifest things. You’re manifesting a new body but You believe that your home is the reality where you hate your body and that you’re doing something grand and groundbreaking by trying shift from that. You want your dream life through the void state. But you believe this reality you’re experiencing right now is your home. Your base point. Your starting ground. And you think that because you are so tied to this reality by scripting and shifting to a new life you’re doing something crazy and out-of-body like.

Let me tell you something. You aren’t. This is going to sound insane but you are as close to this reality as you are to your dream life. You are as bound to the reality where you have your dream green eyes than you are to the “current” where you have blue eyes that you don’t want.

The only reason that us bloggers use the term “current reality” is because this is the reality where your consciousness lies. I will say this again: there are multiple different versions of you reading this that you aren’t aware of and they’re probably not aware of you. Think of the country you live in right now. There’s a version of you that is from somewhere else and may know nothing about the place you call home and haven’t even stepped foot there. It’s so trippy to think about but what i’m trying to get at is that this isn’t your home. It’s nothing to be scared of, shouldn’t it be empowering and comforting to know you could be anyone you want to be?

like this is literally you:

(found this from @shiftinglea)

It’s so easy to shift your consciousness it’s not something you need to mentally prep for, there’s nothing to do. As soon as you want and intend the shift, it happens, regardless of what you’re seeing. You aren’t stuck here, and it pains me when you guys speak about circumstances as if they’re permanent. They don’t have to exist at all. There is no journey, it’s just immediate teleportation. Think as if. Think of your “desired reality” and your current. Place your awareness there.

The reason you have so much resistance is because you believe you have to. Deep down, you believe effort is needed to leave, you believe you need some extravagant journey as you’re leaving the place you felt bound to all this time. You don’t, you’ve left. you’ve shifted. You can’t grasp that nothing, absolutely nothing needs to be done to enter the state of pure consciousness, your literal naked self.

You believe it needs to be hard because it’s too good to be true.

Leave that belief behind. You aren’t far from your life. The life you intend to have. In fact, you’re right there. Think of all these realities like your children. All of them are related to you in the same way. You don’t have one child that you’re absolutely bound to, assuming you’re a good parent with no favourites. They’re ALL close to you in the SAME PROXIMITY. They ALL have the same relation to you. It’s YOUR BLOOD aka YOU running through their veins, all of them, the veins of all these realities, even the ones you aren’t conscious of yet. You aren’t just bound to one.

So you don’t need to work super hard for that body, that shift, that face. When we say it’s yours we aren’t just trying to be encouraging it’s just facts. I’m not the most well versed marvel fan, but does Dr. Strange have a hard time shifting or does he just know where he wants to go and opens those portal thingys? Be like him. Know where you want to go and leave.

Wash your hands of what you don’t want and think as if. Thinking as if = placing your consciousness in desired state = you are in desired state = 3d will follow.

This isn’t home base. There isn’t a home base. Take that into consideration when you’re struggling to truly “just be” while trying to induce the void.

THESE REALITIES ARE ALL THE SAME. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS DECIDE WHERE YOU WANT TO BE ࿐

[sarbithewizard]

And then, the world went mad...

Before I would've said the world would go out in a nuclear blaze or something otherwise generically apocalyptic like that. Survival scenarios were always fun to think about in those kinds of settings. Then I stepped outside to go to work and the house across the street blew up. The wildest thing? I'm pretty sure I saw Susan flying into the distance wearing a blanket like some kind of sugar glider, but got distracted by her car hood banging to the road like it had been launched from the roof. I called the police to report the explosions and subsequent fire, but the operator just started flirting with me. Creeped out, I hung up and tried again only to get raucous laughter from someone else. I went to get a hose and maybe do something when I heard gunshots. GUNSHOTS! Gunshots in my sleepy little suburb, and I'm convinced they were shooting at me! What did I do?! I ran to my car and took off, console pistol in hand because I had no idea what was going on. I drove to my friend Dave's house, but he seemed bored by the madness I frantically described seeing in my trip over. "Time-loop, bud. You're lucky I stuck around this time to see you. Damnedest thing. I think you're the only one that doesn't know. Made me kind of a celebrity for a few years there, but now you're novelty has worn off. Oh, you'll get some attention still, but the North American Free People's Society has laid down some protection rules around you, but it's not like we can enforce any infrastructure in the beginning. Good luck with Today! I'll see you again Today." He just got up and walked out. He seemed listless about the whole thing. Strange accent as well. I found his corpse a few hours later. I'm still trying to convince myself that some worldwide mass hallucination happened, because I can't otherwise make sense of everything. Dave was right though, which makes it harder to believe. I ran into plenty of would-be-lovers, plenty of whackos trying to kill me, and quickly had a bodyguard contingent from this NAFPS group who shot a lot of people between casually chatting with me and maintaining a perimeter. I guess they have a daily rotation and it's considered some kind of honor.

Then the next day came.

There were all kinds of reactions. Orgies in the street, mass suicides, plenty of weeping in both joy and terror. Before no one wanted to talk to me about it anymore, probably because of all the questions I kept asking in the early days, I learned that everyone was in there for hundreds of years. Certainly explains some of the wild skills I saw from people who otherwise looked like normal service workers or business drones. It seems some considered themselves immortal, and being confronted by Tomorrow shook most up. The NAFPS is still around in some capacity. It seems there were groups that were preparing for Tomorrow all over the place, but never really expected it to come. It was clear who truly believed soon enough, from my perspective. I work with them as thanks for protecting me the day the world went mad, and I'm starting to believe them. This is all too orchestrated to be anything fake or hallucinated. It's just so hard to believe, you know? It seems that my celebrity status in the strange world I missed out on makes me a relatively trustable party for negotiations. I've been shipped to neo nation-states across the globe like the NAFPS as a kind of emissary of the world that was. To me it was just last Thursday, but I guess to them, that's when the world really started. I still miss Dave.

-Reflections from the diary of control entity, Jay, in simulation iteration 166,440. It can be noted that human society is starting to become stable, post-resumption. This researcher believes this to be a solid sign we are past the primal anarchic tendencies of the prolonged mortal persistence in a zero-consequence environment and refutes the claim of inherently chaotic nature in the species. Albeit did take several hundred years. The concerted effort to keep the control entity alive as a living monument to their culture and former society is of particular interest to this researcher.

Apparently, you are living in a time loop. Also apparently, you are the only person on Earth who DOESN'T remember the previous iterations. This is the first time you've experienced today; the rest of humanity has been stuck reliving today for years now.

[swytdoll]

౨ৎ [nsfw, armin’s mean]

armin hated—no despised women like you. women that never had to lift a finger, never had to do any real work in their entire lives, who had people wait on them hand and foot. women who didn't know a mop from a duster. it wasn’t fair.

the more he thought about it, the more his rage started to turn into something else. his eyes followed the lines of your figure, the curve of your neck, the slight jiggle of your breasts, and your ass... oh your ass was perfect. you could probably fit into any dress you owned, and your tits would spill out. you looked soft and supple, like the most expensive silks, and your scent was a mix of lavender and roses. he hated it. he hated you, but... maybe there was one thing you could do for him.

“fuck—shut up,” armin hissed, cockhead nudging against your squishy cervix. you were too tight, and it was hurting his head. he pulled back, letting his cock fall from your gushing cunt with a wet pop. it bounced up and slapped his stomach, leaving a trail of your slick behind. he stared at it for a few seconds, and you turned your head just enough to look at it.

it was huge, almost monstrously big. the length was thicker than your arm, and the head was bulbous and bright red. the foreskin was retracted, revealing the glans which was leaking a clear liquid. he wasn’t circumcised, but his penis was so large and thick that the skin wasn't visible. a vein snaked its way up the underside, and you felt your cunt clench in response.

“armin—please, wanna cum s’bad.” you whined, bucking your hips as much as possible in his tight grasp. you were so desperate, you wanted nothing more than to cum. you needed to feel him, to have him mark you.

your words seemed to spark something in him, and he moved back so that his dick was lined up with your puffy lips. you watched him, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent moan as he slid inside of you. the tip disappeared, and he continued to push forward, forcing his fat cock deeper and deeper.

his breath hitched when he finally bottomed out, feeling your warm walls fluttering around his shaft. his hands slid to your sides, grasping at your plush stomach and pulling you down his length. he bit his lip, holding back a groan.

it was heaven, pure heaven, and he was sure that no other man had ever experienced something like this before. no man had ever felt a woman as tight and as hot and as wet and as willing. this was your destiny, you were made for him, and only him.

you were perfect, so perfect, and he didn't want to share. “how would mommy and daddy feel about you fucking the lawn boy in their cramped shed, hm?” he said, a wicked grin forming on his face. your eyes widened, and he could see your body stiffen. he pulled back, then thrusted forward roughly, pushing a squeak out of you.

his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still. he set a brutal pace, fucking you so hard and fast that your whole body shook against the tool desk. you could feel him everywhere, all over you, filling you up, consuming you. “does mommy even know where you are, hm? do they know that you're getting your cunt stretched by a poor, uneducated man like me?”

armin couldn't help it. he leaned forward, resting his forehead on your shoulder as his cock pumped into you. your breasts were pressed against his chest, and he could feel your breath on his cheek. he hated how much he was enjoying this, the way you squeezed around him, the way your skin was soft and warm, the way your hair smelled like lavender. he hated how he could feel himself slipping, his self-control faltering.

you were a spoiled, stuck-up brat, and he had no time for people like that. yet here he was, balls deep in you. fucking you like a madman.

his thrusts became more frantic, and he could feel the pressure building. he was close, so close. just a few more pumps, and he would cum. you felt so good, too good. his cock twitched, and he was coming. hot jets of semen shot from the tip, painting your walls white.

he was panting, and his grip loosened. you wiggled, trying to get away. but he had other ideas. his hand shot out, gripping the front of your shirt and yanking you back down his length. you yelped, feeling him sink deeper inside.

“you—“

“what? my cum not wealthy enough to breed you?” he spat, a dark smirk forming on his lips. you felt sick. your pussy clenched around him, milking him for all he was worth.

he pulled out of you, leaving your hole gaping and dripping with his seed. his hand shot up, wrapping around your neck. his grip was tight, and you choked. he lifted you up, and threw you on the floor. your legs were spread, and his eyes were focused on the mess he'd left between your thighs. the sight of his semen oozing from your abused hole made his cock twitch. he licked his lips, his gaze never wavering. his tongue flicked out, running over his teeth as he stared hungrily.

“you’ll be a beautiful mom.”

[slytherin-pen]

To Build A Home

pairing: Lucien x Nesta

word count: 1.2k

a/n: okayyy, you guys win. i stuck with Lucnes. written for day 4 “moving in” of @sjmromanceweek . i hope you enjoy the tooth rotting fluff

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The house was nestled at the edge of a rolling green meadow, where tall grass swayed in the breeze and the scent of roses and daffodils drifted through the air. It was on the smaller side with only three bedrooms but it was big enough for them, with cobblestone walls, ivy creeping up its sides, and wide windows that let in an abundance of sunlight.

Lucien stood beside Nesta on the dirt path leading to the white front door. “It’s ours,” he murmured.

Nesta glanced up at him, catching the moisture gathering in his eyes. “Ours,” she confirmed.

For so long, they had lived in houses. Houses riddled with abuse or poverty. Houses that belonged to someone else, somewhere they couldn’t be entirely themselves. But this? This was theirs to shape. No masks, no need to have their guards up.

Lucien exhaled, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips as he reached for her hand, squeezing once before he intertwined their fingers. “Shall we?”

Nesta nodded, and together, they stepped inside.

The house smelled of dust and a faint hint of jasmine, the wood floors creaked under their boots. Tamlin had gifted them the house as a gesture of gratitude, but it had been Lucien who had scoured the lands to find this specific place—a home that wasn’t tangled in painful memories, wasn’t a palace suffocating under the weight of expectations.

They had moved only a few of their things so far. Stacks of books were scattered around, boxes shoved in the corners, and furniture still waiting to be put in its proper place.

Nesta crossed her arms and tapped her fingers against her bicep. “We should start with the library.”

Lucien raised a brow. “Not the kitchen?”

She shot him a dry look, but he only grinned.

“I mean,” he continued, brushing past her to inspect the wooden shelves above the counters, “you strike me as someone who wouldn’t want to wake up tomorrow and realize there’s no tea.”

Nesta pursed her lips. “Fair point.”

They spent the afternoon unpacking, Nesta methodically organizing the kitchen while Lucien took a more haphazard approach, distracted by the discovery of little details about their home. How the late afternoon sun hit the kitchen windows just right, the small carved designs in the wooden support beams, the way the doors groaned slightly—as if the house itself was stretching awake.

When he found the tin of her favorite tea, he placed it on the counter next to the kettle, just as Nesta put his preferred spices in the cupboard next to the stove. They worked in quiet harmony, almost like it was a dance they’d practiced hundreds of times.

The next day, after they had unpacked the necessities, they started on the office that contained various reports and books sent by Tamlin.

Nesta hadn’t expected to take such an active role in rebuilding Spring, but when Lucien started sifting through plans and budgets, she had inevitably found herself seated beside him, pouring over figures and blueprints.

Tamlin had given him free rein to rebuild as he saw fit, and Lucien, for all his easy charm, had a sharp mind when it came to politics and structure.

“You’re missing an opportunity here,” Nesta said one evening, pointing to a line in the budget. “The Summer Court is also rebuilding after the war, and I’m sure High Lord Tarquin would be open to some compromises. Allow them to receive a discount on wine, game, and vegetables, and in turn, they can give us discounts on seafood, spices, and tropical fruits. That would allow you to redirect more revenue to the construction fund.“

Lucien leaned over her shoulder, studying the figures. His breath brushed her cheek, but Nesta didn’t move away.

“You’re a terrifyingly efficient female,” he mused.

She smirked. “You’re welcome.”

He grinned, but there was something softer beneath it, something grateful. Nesta wasn’t just helping him—she was invested in this. In their future here.

Nesta was also helping arrange donation drives for clothes, and household supplies, and had plans for charity balls in the future. She spoke with displaced families and workers who lost their jobs due to the building being destroyed or the employers too broke to pay wages. She hosted meetings in the villages, brainstorming with the citizens about how they could get things running again in a way that was manageable for everyone.

Lucien had always known Nesta was brilliant and clever, but watching her work never ceased to amaze him at just how well she could find a solution when the odds seemed impossible. She wasn’t just here because of him. She was here because she wanted to be. Because she cared. Just like when she demanded the human queens offer sanctuary to the very people who had cast her family out for being poor before the war with Hybern.

They found a rhythm in their days, falling into something that felt natural—waking up early, Nesta making tea while Lucien drafted documents for potential alliances, afternoons spent at council meetings or overseeing construction, evenings spent sprawled in their barely furnished living room, reading by the fireplace.

Nesta had claimed one of the armchairs as her own, curling up with a book as Lucien sat on the floor in front of her, one leg bent while he idly massaged her foot with one hand.

The magically lit fire, courtesy of Lucien, cast a warm glow over the room, their shadows reflected on the walls. Nesta had found a book on Spring Court history, hoping to find more ideas on how to restore the court to its former glory.

“You’re not listening,” Nesta accused, though there was no bite to it.

Lucien cracked open an eye. “I was resting my eyes while you told me the riveting history of—what was it again?”

Nesta huffed, snapping the book shut. “You are insufferable.”

Lucien grinned. “And yet, you love me anyway.”

Nesta stilled. He hadn’t said it with the expectation of a confession, hadn’t said it like he was waiting for something in return. He just knew. The ways Nesta Archeron showed her love was quiet and through actions. And she had done so—in the way she meticulously organized his paperwork, in the way she followed him around the court listening to every word as he explained the culture as if it was the most riveting thing she’d ever heard.

Eventually, she murmured, “Unfortunately,” as she reached down, running her fingers through his hair.

Lucien let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes again.

Home. This was what it felt like.

One evening, Lucien found her outside, standing by the river that bordered their land. Fireflies danced above the shrubbery, the stars just beginning to peek through the deepening sky.

Without a word, he slipped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Nesta let herself lean back against him.

For a long moment, they stood in silence, listening to the sounds of nature, the gentle ripple of water, the distant hoot of an owl.

“I’m afraid,” she admitted softly. “Afraid this all just a dream.”

Lucien pressed a lingering kiss to her shoulder. “It’s real.”

She turned in his arms, looking up at him. “Promise?”

Lucien cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “I promise.”

taglist (comment to join!): @tele86

[fuck1ng-queen]

Something Else

Jolly Karlsson x Reader

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: hidden feelings

Author comments: hiiiii! time for the second one shot to celebrate valentine's with bad omens! thank you so much for the love on yesterday's fic, i hope you all like this one too and i'll see you tomorrow! <3

Joakim was sitting in the quietest corner of the café, with an open book in front of him. However, his eyes wandered to the window, as if he were somewhere far away. The dim light of the golden hour lit up his features in an almost cinematic way, highlighting his face and long hair. You watched him from a little distance, feeling that weird new sensation, a warmth in your chest that lately had become each day more common - and hard to ignore - every time you saw him. There was something about his presence, something that made you impossible to look away, as if the world around him disappeared every time he was near.

You hesitated before approaching. You were friends; why was it so hard lately just to pop up and say hi? Your heart raced every time you thought about it, as if something important was about to happen anytime. Taking a deep breath, you took the coffee cup you had just taken from the balcony, almost working as a shield, and started walking in his direction.

When you finally got closer, he lifted his eyes. The tenderness in his gaze when he met you made your heart jump inside your chest. It was as if he was always waiting for you, as if your presence was what was missing for him.

“I thought you weren’t coming anymore,” he said, closing the book calmly and leaving it aside. His voice was a mix of calmness and provocation that always made you smile.

“I got stuck at work,” you replied, trying to sound as casual as you could, even though you felt your voice was trembling.

Joakim stood up and, with that unpretentious way so characteristic of him, pulled the chair for you. It was a simple thing, but there was so much kindness in that gesture, and you knew that each time was more difficult to find. However, it was there, and you couldn’t help but smile one more time. You sat down, thanking him while he returned to his place, his movements flowing with an almost natural grace.

The conversation between you started as always, with fluidity, lightness, and fun, with some jokes here and there that made you laugh sincerely. He spoke about the books he was reading, about new compositions, about plans for the weekend, all with a contagious passion that made you want to spend hours hearing what he had to say. But there was something different that afternoon. There was a heavy silence between some phrases, as if the both of you knew things weren’t as they always were anymore, but none of you knew exactly how to deal with it.

It was when you realized then: that he was going through his jacket pocket too much. It was something small, almost imperceptible, but you knew him too well, you knew his mannerisms by heart. He was nervous, and that only increased your tension.

“What was it?” you asked, leaning yourself a little in his direction. Your voice sounded a little lower than you expected, full of an almost worried curiosity.

“Nothing” he answered way too quickly, looking away. After, he let out a nervous laugh, stretching the back of his head. “It's just that… It’s complicated.”

You arched one eyebrow, challenging him in silence. He knew you wouldn’t give up so soon, which made him smile sideways, in a mix of nervousness and admiration.

“Okay, you won” he gave in, running his fingers through his hair in a gesture you knew he always did when he was trying to organize his thoughts. “Do you promise me you’re not gonna start laughing?”

“Won’t promise you anything” you answer already laughing, with a teasing smile, trying to set the mood lighter. 

He took a deep sigh and put his hand in the pocket one more time. When he pulled something out, you saw a little black velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat, and before he could say anything, you blurted out, trying to hide your tension with a playful tone: 

“Is this a ring box in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

The expression on his face was priceless. At first, he got surprised, then he tried to hold back his laughter and ended up laughing. The sound of his laughter, full of life and unconcerned, filled the café and warmed your heart. You couldn’t avoid laughing with him, which made people at the other tables look at you, but none of you actually caring about it.

“You never make things easy, don’t you?” he said, still laughing, but his eyes had a warm sparkle that made your heart skip a beat. There was something else in there, something that words weren't saying.

“What is it, then?” you asked, pointing to the box, a little bit more serious now, but still smiling.

He stayed in silence for a moment, looking at the object in his hands as if he was building up courage. His breath seemed heavy, and you could see the sutil movement of his throat while he swallowed dry. 

“It's not what you’re thinking” he finally answered, opening the box. Inside, there was a little heart-shaped keychain, with a discrete sparkle. The edges were carved in detail. “I saw this in a store and I thought of you. I know it’s kinda silly, but I thought you might like it.”

You stayed in silence for a second, surprised by the simplicity and the meaning behind his gesture. When you lifted your gaze to him, you realized he was waiting anxiously for a reaction of yours, his eyes frozen on you as if that moment for him meant a lot.

“I loved it,” you said, smiling, while taking the keychain carefully, feeling the symbolic weight of it in your hands. “Thank you, Jolly.”

He got visually more relaxed by hearing you, letting out a sigh not even he himself knew he was holding. The light mood had come back, but something inside you knew that that afternoon had been a turning point in your story. Something had changed and, this time, it seemed to be something that none of you wanted to avoid. You kept your gift in your pocket, but the heat it had brought seemed to spread all over your chest.

While you kept speaking with each other, now in a more laid-back way, you couldn’t help but think about how Joakim always seemed to know exactly what to do to make little moments in something special. And, for the first time, you had permitted yourself to imagine what could happen if that weird and overwhelming feeling was more than a friendship.

.

Masterlist | Valentine's One Shots

Send me an ask to join my taglist

taglist: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @kenjipepsi1 @chey-h @concretejunglefm @blade-dressed-in-red @xxkittenkissesxx

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi, white aspiring author here! I've been tinkering with a story for years (coming up on 10... Eek!) and the main characters have shifted around a lot. Currently the cast is a Black princess and a red-headed witch! I was reading through your hair posts and trying to think about how the princess's class and standing, especially relative to the other kingdoms, would impact what kind of hairstyles she would be most likely to have, and which she may not even have access to. A few context bits I have regarding her story:

- the setting is so post-modern it wraps around back into pre-electricity (so, no one probably has straightened hair unless they have magic...?)

- her kingdom is objectively the most important due to heavy contributions to continental agriculture access

- her kingdom is culturally snubbed due to bias against connections to nature (there was a Humans vs Nature vs Magic war - tentative peace rn but aftermath is still palpable)

- she is loved and trusted by the citizens of her kingdom, and she trusts the people who work in the castle and as her handmaidens

- she is frequently on the go, especially as a child, but in recent years she's had to focus more on royal diplomacy

- her parents are trying to set up an arranged marriage due to the cultural tensions, so she's getting dressed up a lot (unwillingly)

- the plot really starts when she leaves the castle to adventure with the witch

So I'm thinking about like... How her main hairstyle is probably going to change pre-plot versus mid-plot! Before leaving the castle she has the time, wealth, and help for something like microbraids, or even microbraids that make bigger braids. But I'd imagine that'd get very difficult to maintain after a week of hiking around the woods and up and down mountains, much less months of traversing the continent. Another thing I'm wondering about is if it'd be more reasonable to assume she has enough basic practice and skills to maintain her hair with a lower maintenance style on her own after leaving, or if that's something she's starting from near-scratch with, having her hair done by someone else her whole life thus far? As in, would it be more realistic for her to remember her childhood styles and try the twist out, or would she have self-braiding skills as a young adult? She has a great amount of dexterity in general, but I'm not sure if general dexterity translates to braiding dexterity (mostly because I've tried braiding my own hair and suck at it, despite being good with things like knitting). I'd imagine that's the kind of thing where practice goes a long way?

Anyway I apologize for the wall of text but thank you very much for that master post, I'm going to keep reading through it because it's really helping me conceptualize this character a lot more in-depth, and it's helping to give context to minor world building considerations too! Really developing the details like this is my favorite thing to do, because once I have enough everything just kinda clicks and springs to life on its own! So I hope this isn't too long ;;

Hot combs don't require electricity, so people could have straight hair! It's just gonna take longer.

This really depends on your character. If you give her the skill to do her own hair, she'll have it lol. If you're implying that she always had servants who did it, then she won't. So if what you're saying is she's doing it from scratch, then no, she won't know what to do. No one just has good braiding skills lmao, you have to practice on yourself and on others. There's a reason doing hair is such a community experience.

Microbraids is a hell of a style to get stuck with when you don't know how to do your own hair 😅 they'll be fine while having them, but getting them down by herself at some point is gonna be a BITCH. I'd rather cut my shit off fr 😭 but that's why I never got micros, I'm far too impatient. Can the witch do hair lmao? Is the witch trusted enough to help take it down or magic it out? Does she get to come back to the castle every now and then for new styles, or is she just out and about? And for how long? Because if she wants more flexibility, the braids are probably not it.

I think everyone struggling with this sort of question should have their characters practice doing four simple plaits or cornrows on their head 😅 like it's gonna suck the first time, but practice makes perfect.

[beescrafting]

Through heaven and hell...

Price is now retired... Living in a slow town with a small population further up in England's more rural area.

During one night at the pub and a near PTSD attack, he finds himself talking to a gentleman named Nikolai.

______

Life was slow now. With creaking old joints, pains from active duty, John found himself in a small little town far out into the country side of England.

It was quiet.

It is nice.

It was boring.

Compared to the normal loudness of a battle feild, the gunfire, the yelling, the bombs... Then again those silent missions... Either way John found himself bored out of his mind.

Theirs only so much a man can do with gardening or trying to learn how to knit.

So alot of the time, he found himself jogging and working out, doing small jobs with helping the community, and then drinking.

This is where John found himself every Friday night, at the pub at the edge of town. It's not the most popular pub, but its a good one.

That's where John found himself right now. Sitting in a corner of the bar, cradling a whiskey to drink.

The bar was briming with life, from workers taking a moment to calm down for the week ended talking with friends and watching sports, to some young men on a few dates with their girlfriends or boyfriends.

This town truly was something else.

Drinking his whiskey John sighed. The noise in the background was slowly startling to frazzle out, sounding like background noise as he more focused on the tv. It was a program about a war going on...

John tapped his finger against the table slightly, taking a deep breath. He was starting to hear the voices of the men he failed to keep alive... The men who died by his side due to his faults.

Their screams of pain over the coms as they suffered and died by the enemies hands.

The sound of gun fire and bombing ringing in his ear it was-

"are you an angel, because I want to pray to you~" A thick russian accent suddenly broke his train of thought from such a wild thing to say.

John turned to face the man only to be met by a older gentleman with a smirk amongst his face. His stuble was nice it really brought out a strong mans exterior if you were to ask anyone.

"pardon?" John said raising a brow as he studied the man.

"ha sorry, just trying to get you out of that head of yours мой друг" (мой друг = my friend) the man said while taking a seat next to John. He was wearing a dark brown leather jacket with some jeans and a nice random t-shirt from something John didn't know. "My name is Nikolai, friends call me nik, and you are?" The man- no... Nikolai asked.

"John... John Price" john replied back, he found himself smiling slightly, he had been lacking a bit with human connection lately after all... And John had a feeling Nik understood him more then he let on.

"well John, care to explain what's got you stuck in that brain of yours?" Nik asked leaning a bit closer after ordering for another round for the pair. Another Whiskey and a cherry vodka.

Mhm very nice.

Maybe this truly is what he needed, someone to talk to and drink with. He hadn't had much contact with anyone from his job in a bit, Ghost and Soap were still in the army serving under a new captain now no doubt, and Laswell had her wife and job in the CIA...

"Well, I use to be in the army" John mumbled before talking more to Nik about what it was like, he and nik both learned a few things from one another. They truly had alot in common.

~~~

This is just the intro for what's going to be started, its not very long but its a ground breaker for what I have planned. Thank you for reading, and if you wish to be tagged for me updates to this, then please let me know, and if you have any questions my ask's are always opened! Their will be other updates too other then short little writings such as art, thoughts, and chapter idea's. I do hope you enjoy this project among the many more I'm work on. - Bee

but i do think i know of two people who'd like this, @panchulien and @hexxedghost ,w,

[yourlocalchronicdaydreamer]

this was supposed to be a microfic for @maraudersgirlsprompts but it kind of turned into a one-shot sorry • platonic lilypad • 1129 words

“This is stupid,” Lily muttered to herself.

Groaning in frustration, she dipped her quill in her ink bottle and made to cross out her fourth attempt, only she used too much ink and blotted the parchment. God, she missed pens. Stupid quills and stupid ink and stupid star charts for stupid Astronomy. Why did wizards have to be so … archaic? What did they have against joining the twentieth-century and teaching students something actually useful to them instead of rote learning constellations?

“All right there, Red?” asked a voice behind her. 

Lily swivelled away from the night sky towards the figure in the doorway, only to narrow her eyes in suspicion. “What are you doing here, Black? Are you and Potter planning on blowing up the Astronomy Tower or something?” She paused. “You know what, if you did that, then I wouldn’t have to take this stupid class anymore, so go ahead.”

Sirius chuckled as he sat down next to her, glancing at the half-drawn star charts with words furiously crossed-out that littered the floor. “That doesn’t sound like you, Red,” he smirked. “Shouldn’t you be all for ‘following the rules and maintaining perfect grades’ or whatever?”

She glared at him. “I don’t sound like that. And for your information, I study because we’re at a magic school where I get to learn magic to become a good witch. Why on earth wouldn’t I want to try my best to learn that? Unlike you fancy pure-bloods, I haven’t been around this my whole life, you know.”

He nodded, as if humouring her. “So what’s Astronomy done to offend you, then?”

“It’s pointless!” she half-yelled. “Everything else we learn here is teaching us all about either magic skills or the magical world, all things that are helpful for lots of careers and also just being a part of wizarding society. I do well at those classes because I’m motivated to study for them, because there’s a point to them. But there’s no point to this, and unlike you, I can’t do it all effortlessly, so now I’m stuck working on this stupidly hard assignment instead of sleeping because for some reason they’re making us do a subject that can only be done at midnight even though there’s no point to it.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, leaning back. “You’re really passionate about this, huh? You don’t have any subjects in the muggle world that don’t serve much of a purpose?”

She shook her head. “I mean, in most subjects you’ll never use the content again after school, but they actually teach you important skills, like critical thinking. This is nothing but looking at the sky and memorising the names of a bunch of identical white dots. Why are we learning it?”

“Pure-blood nonsense,” he shrugged. “Traditionally, wizards have always put a lot of stock in the stars, have prided themselves on the fact that they know more about astronomy than muggles-”

“Is that even true?” Lily interrupted. “Muggles have been to the moon.”

“Who knows?” he said. “The point is, this is the kind of pretentious, esoteric knowledge that pure-bloods want their kids to have. Especially the Black family. Most of them are named after things in space. My name is -”

“The brightest star in the sky,” she finished wryly. “A fact that you’re always very fond of reminding everyone.”

He grinned. “I am very bright. But if you look out there,” he said, gesturing out the window towards the sky, “you can see my dear old dad, and my uncle Alphard, and cousin Bella. Andy’s got a whole galaxy to herself. And there, right at the heart of the lion, is my brother.”

“Regulus?” Lily asked. Sirius didn’t talk about his brother much; if she hadn’t heard his name called at the sorting ceremony at the beginning of the year, she probably wouldn’t even know that.

Sirius nodded. “Ironic, isn’t it, that he was named after a lion but I’m the one in Gryffindor.” He visibly hesitated, then spoke again. “Before I started Hogwarts, we were really close. But then we were separated for a year - because I left him all alone - and even now we’re in the same building, he barely looks at me. Sometimes I come up here just to feel like I’m with him because …”

“Because it hurts,” Lily said softly. “I get it.”

“I know,” he admitted. “That’s why I’m telling you.”

There was a pause again, and then he sat up, clearing his throat as if to shift the emotion out of the air. “Anyway, where were we? Yes - the Black family’s penchant for useless knowledge about the stars. It’s a huge part of our private tutelage, you know, memorising this stuff. I knew this entire star chart like the back of my hand by the time I was seven.”

Lily looked at him in shock. “Wait, is that why you’re so good at this stuff? Because you’ve been learning it your whole life instead of stuff like English and Maths?”

Sirius frowned, bemused. “Muggles spend that long learning that stuff? What is there to know besides reading, writing, and handling money?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “God, I would destroy all of you smug pure-bloods in a maths test or a spelling bee.”

“What’s a spelling … never mind. Smug? Is that really all you think of me? I’m wounded, Red, wounded.”

“Not you specifically. Just … pure-bloods. It all seems to come so naturally to so many people, and there’s already lots who don’t think I belong in this world, and here I am having to work twice as hard to maintain the perfect grades so …”

“So you feel you don’t deserve to be here,” he finished. She nodded, ducking her head away from him out of embarrassment. “You know that’s rubbish, Red; you’re a brilliant witch. We’re only in second-year, and Slughorn probably already wants to set you up to be a famous potioneer just so he can claim to know you. All those Slytherins just have stupid, old-fashioned prejudices. You don’t need to prove yourself to them.”

“Thank you,” she said. “That was … uncharacteristically nice of you.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a very nice person, Red,” he said as he took the star chart from her. “Now, let’s get this finished so we can both go to bed, and in return, tomorrow you can use your potions genius to help me with that annoying essay Slughorn wants done by Monday.”

They stayed up there for another half-hour, bickering light-heartedly and looking at the stars as they filled up her parchment, and as they walked back to the Common Room, Lily was pleasantly surprised to find that she’d made a friend out of Sirius Black.

[artist-kreating-stuff]

Aw, thanks for the tag!

What’s the origin of your blog name?: It was originally something different, but that name was derived from two specific fandoms. As I started branching out into other fandoms, though, having a very specific name just didn’t seem right, so I changed it to a name that was a little more all-encompassing.

OTP(s) + Shipname: Dang, I have so many. First it was Jaya and Kailor from Ninjago. Then it was Shualt from Beyblade Burst. More recently, I’ve slowly been becoming more and more obsessed with Codywan from Clone Wars. Along with Rexiyo. They’ve kind of been growing on me.

Favorite color: Any shade of blue!

Favorite game: I don’t really play any games, but I do like to watch gameplays. Jacksepticeye and CoryxKenshin are my two current favorite gamers.

Song stuck in your head: Breathe by Olly Alexander.

Weirdest trait/habit: I pick my split ends. I’ve taken to having a pair of scissors next to me when I’m working so that I don’t damage my hair further.

Hobbies: Reading, writing, drawing, and scrolling through social media. Problem is I often can’t decide which one to focus on during my free time, so I more often then not revert to the fourth option.

If you work, what’s your profession?: I’m a kitchen worker. Trust me, it’s a very messy business.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?: My dream job is to be a writer/illustrator, who doesn’t necessarily make millions, but certainly makes enough to keep herself comfortable.

Something you’re good at: I’ve been told my drawings and short stories are good.

Something you’re bad at: ANYTHING WITH NUMBERS.

Something you love: My family, hanging out, not a care in the world.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: THE CLONES OF THE REPUBLIC. I WILL SPEAK AT LENGTH ABOUT HOW THEY DESERVED BETTER.

Something you hate: ANYTHING WITH NUMBERS.

Something you collect: I’m kind of embarrassed to say this, but I take screenshots of fanfics that I like so that I don’t have to scroll through dozens of media just to find it again.

Something you forget: A lot of things. So many things that I forgot how long the list is.

What’s your love language?: I don’t have a partner at the moment, but if I had one, I’d say small moments together and small gifts.

Favorite movie/show: Clue. It was the first true mystery classic that my parents introduced me to and still makes me laugh to this day.

Favorite food: Anything with pasta. Love me a bowl of noodles!

Favorite animal: Dogs. They’re too good for us, even though they (mine in particular) drive us crazy.

What were you like as a child?: Very very weird and naive. I said the weirdest things and thought they were the truth. Probably made my parents very concerned a few times.

Favorite subject at school: English or Art. I loved having an excuse to stare at paper for a while.

Least favorite subject: ANYTHING WITH NUMBERS.

What’s your best character trait?: Connect with me on my fixations, and I will be your friend for life.

What’s your worst character trait?: I hate to admit it, but I’m selfish. When I’m put in a situation, I’ll consider the other party, but I’ll also think about how I play into it.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?: I’d be less dependent on others and more dependent on myself.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?: Amelia Earhart. I’d like to meet the woman paved the way for women everywhere before she, you know, vanished off the face of the Earth.

Tag as many mutuals as you want! (no pressure): @littledudeholland @pixanefan @give-me-your-heart @mellow-lynx and whoever else wants to join!

Get to know your mutuals!

What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!

OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad

Favorite color: Red!

Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!

Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC

Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol

Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!

If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha

Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.

Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.

Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas

Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.

Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha

Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately

What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service

Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha

Favorite food: Sushi!

Favorite animal: Cats!

What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do

Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class

Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol

What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others

What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy

Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!

@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer

ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!

[corellianhounds]

Idk if me being excited about writing annoys you guys or not, but it hasn’t been until the past few years that I’ve been able to see a story from start to finish. My usual writing style was just to start with an idea and descriptions and worldbuilding and interesting characters and just write, but more often than not I got stuck halfway through with no end in sight. Knowing where a story ended was rare.

Now though, anything you all see on this blog that’s longer than a one-shot is something I know the ending of. Posting it piece by piece might be sporadic and slow-going in the middle, especially since I have so many dishes cooking in the kitchen, but I know how the story ends. I know where the characters are going to end up

I’ve seen the architect vs gardener description for how different writers write but neither have felt quite accurate to describe how I work on projects. The gardening style was how I used to write, and I had good ideas and visuals and imagery and elements I wanted to use, but the structure would suffer for it and I couldn’t figure out the endings or what I was trying to say/do with the piece. Architecture-style feels too rigid and I suck at outlines, though I think that was mostly due to the fact any outline styles teachers or professors taught or gave us felt too formulaic and I didn’t know how to write a story by coming up with something for rising action, character intro, up the stakes, etc. That was always too disconnected and confining, and trying to write backwards from “Here’s the ending, figure out how it gets there,” has always felt bizarre and disjointed to me. The stories and characters end up not feeling organic and natural, always ending up forced and unsatisfying and ultimately just not well-written

What I do now is somewhere in the middle, which I KNOW is what most people are like, but the best way to describe it is like panning for gold: I write everything and anything down from all of the things I input regardless of what idea it pertains to, and as I sift through and think on the pieces I already have out I get closer and closer to something that’s solid and real. Sure, 80% of what I put on the page in a day are fragments and bits and pieces of stuff, but it’s OUT and it’s no longer distracting me and I can go back through and look for the potential in each of them or draw inspiration from one thing to use elsewhere. Then when those nebulous floating pieces come together I know the rhythm and flow of how it’s supposed to be written and how the characters are going to get there. Trying to force characters into certain actions that have to happen for The Plot to progress almost never works for anybody, and readers can tell that it feels contrived and ineffective.

Anyway. I genuinely like coming up with new ideas and different projects. All of them tend to improve because I’m taking inspiration from all of them and applying it somewhere else, and sometimes just working on another project helps give my mind the break it needs to come back with fresh eyes and an objective view. Anything I write is influenced by everything that has come before it, and I often find the solution I need for one project while I’m prospecting somewhere in another.

[deoidesign]

I met the me who made different choices

[moeblob]

Ohiwe (lady) and Ohime (man) aka the fire deity after they get punished.

Originally just "Oh", the fire deity had a bit too much fun with punishing humans and so in a means to stop them, the elder gods split them into two. So now they have to be together in order to have their "full" power but as before the split, they get restless and like to wander. So while one stays in their city, the other gets to go out and travel and see the world and check on the other deities.

Also, as a whole/singular being Oh would use they/them. After the split however, it's definitely not the same and so Ohiwe likes using female pronouns and Ohime uses male pronouns. That way when discussed as one, it's back to they. That feels best for them.

[sabrinahawthorne]

Sorry to OP, Jack, and Aaron, but it's my turn to hijack. Because as it turns out, I've also been thinking about this, and I have an additional solution: Cultivate a Casual Audience.

I spent most of the latter half of 2024 thinking about this issue, by way of thinking about a more pressing issue for me: how to make a living doing this. I'm a disabled artist who's largely unable to work otherwise, and I'd really like to have enough income of my own that I don't always have to rely on those very supportive people in my life. Eventually, I came up with a plan.* Walk with me.

Imagine that you're starting up a local movie theater, and you're pondering the topic of audience. What kind of audiences do you want to draw for the best balance of profit and taste? It seems to me that you have three options: 1. Pander to the MCUboys. This is a super reliable audience, obviously, and they've got money to spend. The problem with this approach is that you're just further slicing the pie - sure, they're a big audience, but you're only ever going to draw a proportional fraction of them, roughly evenly split with all the other theaters in town, including the AMC downtown. Plus, you'd be tying yourself to a property that won't last forever; it's not sustainable, even if it's profitable now. 2. Pander to the Indieboys. This also isn't a great plan - sure, the indie folks are by far your most dedicated crowd. They'll show up for anything, and they'll do it regularly. But as with all indie art circles, they've been passing the same $20 around for the last decade. It's just not profitable enough to keep your business afloat. 3. Cater to a Casual Audience. As a movie exhibitor, this is easy. Everybody goes to the movies! All you have to do is do stuff other than just movies! Maybe sell food in your lobby space and fill it with seating - now it's a dinner spot, too! Or maybe sell local art, too. That way you're getting the attention of people whose focus isn't on movies, and maybe they'll decide to book a ticket to something while they're here having a meal with their visiting parents.

In my city, the local indie theater does all of that and more; they hold monthly workshops where a local artist teaches a workshop on how to do their weird niche thing. In fact, I did one last year, and it was great! About seven people showed up, and one of them was my mom. But you know something? I made a tidy little profit from tickets, and sold a few games besides.

You may have spotted the problem: that being that tabletop RPGs don't have a casual audience. This artform is stuck between two extremes: the MCU and the gorehounds. As others have pointed out - 99% of people who've heard of this medium at all have exclusively heard of D&D, including a lot of pretty hardcore, invested D&D fans. On multiple occasions, I've tested the waters by asking someone if they play RPGs, with the response being "yeah! I've been playing D&D with my friends for like three years!" and then, when I ask if they've ever played anything else, they hit me with the "there are other games? I had no idea!" It's not just that D&D is the most popular thing; it's that to most people - even those who we would consider significantly invested in the medium - D&D is the only thing. The idea that other games can exist at all is alien to a lot of folks. Pretty scary, huh?

Well, here's the twist. It's actually a super solvable problem, and you might be able to do it where you live, for free.

Step 0: First Principles Before you begin, you'll need to iron out your goals and your approach. For me, this is pretty simple - one, I don't talk about D&D. Whenever I'm talking about RPGs, especially to newbies, I straight-up act as if D&D doesn't exist unless someone else brings it up. If I need a standard fantasy RPG that's still in print, I default to Pathfinder, or something more niche if I think I can afford it.† Two, I decide right now that selling my own product is going to be pretty low on my priority list. This is for two reasons, the most relevant one being optics - I want people to feel like I really care about this hobby (which I do, to be clear), and promoting my own work when I could be spotlighting other people's games is going to clock as kind of shady to some people. Because, frankly, it is.

Step 1: Avoid Your Local Game Store Which isn't to say don't shop there, obviously. I only mean that for this little project of yours, the local store won't work. Why? Survivorship bias. Your friendly local game store is, through no fault of their own, the MCU theater. They only pay rent because they sell D&D and Magic cards - and let's be real, Magic cards are the smaller market. Don't blame them for this; they're doing everything they can, and the fact that they can afford to buy stock of Monsterhearts, or Avatar: Legends is a mark of their success. But the fact is, they're the plane that made it back. Their audience is almost entirely D&D-heads. Those aren't the people you're trying to reach. Instead, you're looking for a local art spot. A popular coffee shop that doubles as a gallery; A used bookstore with weekly storytimes and programs for local authors. Somewhere that meets these two criteria: a) they cater to a wide, casual market who do not come here for tabletop RPGs, and b) hold any kind of regular event. Poetry readings, book clubs, anything like that.

Step 2: Talk To The Owners I'll be real - this is the step where I got the most lucky. See, I was about two days into formulating this plan when my local movie theater decided to start hosting weekly board game nights. As in, anyone can show up, bring-your-own-game, play with whoever you like. For free. The opportunity fell into my lap. Even if I hadn't already done business with this place, I wouldn't have needed to bring this plan up with them. They'd just given me a free opportunity. You may not be so fortunate. In your case, then, you'll want to bring your pitch around and see who bites. In many cases, this is going to be you starting up a new event at this location, and that means a lot of responsibility on your shoulders to maintain the schedule, the marketing, etc. The thing is, though – there’s always more going on in your city than you imagine. In my experience, a lot of these local art spaces are pretty bad at advertising themselves, and all it takes is a little searching and some in-person friendships to get you in touch with something you can take advantage of. Maybe your library has some kind of regular mingling event – old-school fantasy geek meetups, or a star-trek fan group who meets every other week at the mom & pop diner. See if there’s something you can ride the coattails of, before you take the leap of organizing your own event.

Step 3: Be Prepared I made a spreadsheet. I have the next six months planned. I don’t go to every game night – instead, I show up every other week. I’m there the full two hours, no matter what. Unless I have to, I never show up alone. I bring pre-made characters, a pre-written module, pencils, paper, dice, and two dice boxes. If I have one, I bring a physical copy of that week’s game. If nobody bites, no worries – I just carry over that game to the next week, ad nauseum, until it gets played. I select for smaller games that I already own. One-pagers, zines, that sort of thing. I also select for games I think are either accessible to newbies, or which I would consider required reading. Lasers & Feelings; Roll for Shoes; Crash Pandas. I also selected my timeframe very carefully. I’d burn out if I prepared a new game with characters and an adventure every week, and people would forget about me if I did it only once a month. So it’s every other week; enough time to not stress overmuch about prep, but not so long that people forget, or quietly assume I stopped coming.

Step 4: Persist Then, I mingle. I talk to people who show up alone; I make a show of being an open table. And I ask everyone I meet: “Do you know what you’re playing tonight?” This step takes patience. A fucking lot of patience. My first two weeks (which is to say, my first full month, real-time), nobody bit. That was due to a combination of factors; for one, it was still January, and the event was pretty dead. It’s gotten better since. For another, I went alone those weeks. It felt kind of pathetic, honestly – but I knew what I wanted, and I was willing to wait for it. And it’s working. My last showing, I came with two friends, and two other people showed up. One of them told me at the end of the night that he had someone in mind to invite along. Folks, this is a long game. A really long game. My plan is to do this every other week for the rest of the year, barring a few things, and my goal by the end of 2025 is to have four, maybe five, regulars. But I know what I’m here for, and I know it’s going to take a while.

I’m cultivating a casual RPG market in my town. Because that’s really what we need, isn’t it? This is a really niche hobby, but it doesn’t have to be. Wizards of the Coast have proven, in their own slimy way, that RPGs can appeal to a huge array of people, if they’re given an open door. If you care about de-monopolizing this hobby and opening it up for more artists to be able to make a living, then our goal needs to be generating a casual gaming audience that isn’t funneled through the filter of D&D to get to the other side of indie. They need the opportunity to try out the medium from other angles. And if you’ve got the time, energy, and inclination, I think you can give it to them.

*This plan won't work for everyone. In fact, I suspect it won't work for most of us, for one reason or another. I think I'm pretty lucky both in terms of the support network I have in my private life, as well as some of the material & geographic resources at my disposal, and this solution requires all three. But I hope that some of what I outline here is transferable to other people's circumstances as well.

†Hey. Hey, look at me. Look me in the eyes. Pathfinder is indie. No, stop. Look at Me. D&D is the only mainstream RPG. I'm not kidding, and I'm not exaggerating. Please, please understand that you and I are the kinds of movie fans who think Reanimator is mainstream, okay? We're the indie freaks who are passing that $20 around. We have a tendency to lose perspective on what the average normie has heard of, let alone played. I'm begging you not to discourse about this in the notes.

Art Communities and TTRPGs

I recently read an article by @toyourstations (which you can read here) about art revolutions, both online and in physical space. It makes the point that art communities online are generally fairly insular, rarely reaching out beyond a small circle of other artists. To combat this, the article argues that you as an artist should find a way to exist in physical space around people who are not in your small group and share your art there. It's a topic that I had been thinking about a lot lately as I've been making a conceited effort to connect more people in the indie ttrpg space and encourage more community amongst artists.

I've noticed a trend that relates to both of these topics. It seems to me that people in the indie ttrpg community online rarely interact with other's works. I see in other art mediums an outpouring of interaction on even the most sophomoric works. Yet amongst ttrpg writers, I see posts of well made projects with little to no interaction or feedback. This is purely subjective and my experience may be skewing my view on the topic but it seems to hold true.

I have a few theories.

This is obviously a fairly small community, but there are at least other artists here that would have opinions about the projects they see. Are people scared to interact; to give criticism, both good or bad? You would think in such a small community of creator/artists that people would be sharing ideas and writing critique.

The most cynical theory is that creators don't want to boost up other projects as they see them as competition. There is a feeling that there is only enough oxygen in the room for one or two projects to exist and you don't want to lift up other projects when it may result in the starvation of your own.

There is also the time investment. It takes time to read and interact with ttrpgs. Playing/testing them is a whole other level of commitment. But there must be some people who at least read or skim projects. Why do they not leave comments. Does it really come down to the size of the community? Are there just not enough people interested in projects outside of their own?

----

I do feel that I need to state that this opinion is not a reflection of my personal project's engagement. I am fairly happy with how they have performed considering my size and reach. This frustration is mostly a product of seeing other projects and artist gain zero traction when I think their projects are worthwhile. This also goes beyond Tumblr as a platform. Obviously there are a million factors that play into this, but I think a community initiative to engage more with smaller works could change the landscape of the ttrpg community online.

[sheliesshattered]

somehow, I don't know how, but somehow sewing machines always know when you're nearly done with a project and pick that exact moment to throw a hissy fit

[pollen]

i've been diving a lot deeper into adhd symptoms and comorbidities and misdiagnoses and whenever i tell my boyfriend something i learned that sounds like me he responds with something like

[asinglesock]

just realized my fatal flaw and the great struggle of possibly the rest of my life. while watching a cdrama.