#and it doesn't even make sense it doesn't even look great

[hxhhasmysoul]

Are we now policing what people get moved by "using a formal tone when discussing a specific topic". The response is spot on, I dare say. I'm not sure what age group is the most represented in the user base but it doesn't matter. Both writers and readers hone their taste and thus their preferred writing style throughout life at their own pace.

What may be banal to you, OP, may be novel and eye opening to others as, and I will allow myself to say something truly obvious and banal, they are at a different point in their art appreciation journey and your experiences, journey and context* are not universal. 

There is no shame in being moved by art, any art. That's what art is for, to move, to exist in that moment when it's perceived by others. While OP may have devoted more time in their life to acquaint themselves with less popular titles, not everyone has and there is no shame in that either. To make some more banal observations:

We all have only so much time and we prioritise it how we need or in ideal situations want to.

As long as we’re alive, our relationship with art will morph. 

Outside of western canon I will mention the Pillow Book by Sei Shounagon. It’s a work of aesthetics as it is a work of meaning. I don’t find all the insights in it deep but I find the work supremely beautiful and enjoyable purely as an aesthetic experience and then there’s the added level of meaning. I read some other nikki and they also had this aesthetised quality, though Pillow Book hits different for me because I subjectively feel the author much more than the others. 

As someone who beta reads as a hobby, I can share my experience of that. Editing, for me, is an exercise in removing my ego and trying to best serve the author and their work. That means meeting them where they’re at, helping them pull out the most out of the style they currently use even if it’s not to my personal taste. Recently I was beta reading for a zine and one fic just felt like it wanted to go the full aesthetic route. Like it needed to become this short vivid snapshot full of descriptions that are there more to paint a picture than to convey ideas. Some of it was purely beautiful and moving in that sense and there was no deeper meaning to it apart from the fact that beauty was being experienced by coming in contact with the surface level of the text. And I’m sure not everyone experienced it the same, not everyone resonated with this kind of beauty enough to have an experience at all. But some did and that’s a job well done. To continue my banal insights, no art is for everyone and art that is not for us has committed no crime, we do not need to justify our disinterest. 

Another experience I will share is of there being a period in my life of working with small film festivals, reviewing films and watching like 80% of what was being released in my country regardless of how niche it was. Including watching quite a lot of so-called “arthouse” cinema and indie films. What I’ve learned from that is: “rare” means “rare” ; it has no bearing on quality. Some of those texts* were truly interesting on many levels. Some of them were: I went to film school and read philosophy 101. But while I found the latter tedious, especially after seeing so many of them, I know others resonated with them. To each their own.

In my country secondary school is this semi-prison, where I was locked for 6-9h a day with the same people without much variety, because I was assigned to a class which was made up of particular people. And I remember there being cliques based on interest and in those cliques there were these internal rules who was looked down on and why. Some of that was based on art (in the widest sense of the word) people enjoyed. Things like: we’re all listening to this music now, reading these works now, watching these films and those who don’t, those who don’t know them, those who don’t see how great and deep they are? Those are the other, the lesser, the unwashed and uneducated masses who “keep latching onto writing that has the superficial signifiers of depth and quality while lacking them on a deeper structural level“. Those who don’t understand and are unfit or too lazy** to understand. 

Some of this mentality continued into higher education.

What the two experiences I described above, and several others, gave me was the freedom to thankfully mentally leave my secondary and higher education and move on with my life. 

Tumblr users yearn for good writing; well used language that conveys a meaningful message. 

I will also allow myself to communicate my point in a more understandable manner, as formal and bitchy passive-aggressive and condescending seems to be the tone of this discussion. 

The fuck you know what “Tumblr users yearn for” or consider as “good writing”. Citation fucking needed on both these fucking claims. You want to do an understated “ad academia” with this “deeper structural level” shit?  Where’re your statistical analysis bitch (gender agnostic use) of “Tumblr user yearnings” and the corresponding literary analysis of examples of what they perceive as good writing mapped to the “yearning” statistics. What methodology did you use to come to these conclusions? What was your framework? May I chance a guess that it was your subjective observation of a tiny snippet of Tumblr that you experience in your daily usage of the site filtered by your bias to see only the examples that confirm your opinions? 

__________________

*I identify as a linguist, contexts is everything, everything is text

**see point one in my list of banal thoughts above, plus fuck me classist and ableist much. maybe a little intersectional leftism to spice up your analysis, some stepping beyond your comfort zone, expanding that methodology?

Tumblr users yearn for good writing; well used language that conveys a meaningful message. And yet your average tumblr user's idea of "good" writing is very secondhand. They know roughly what it looks like, what it feels like, but not really what it is. So they keep latching onto writing that has the superficial signifiers of depth and quality while lacking them on a deeper structural level

Just think of the prose that make tumblr users say "these lines go hard". All the poetry that tens of thousands of users treat like the most moving thing they've ever read. So much of it is nothing more than excessively elaborate and ornate writing (often with some crude Bathos thrown in) used to communicate ideas that are painfully banal or plain incoherent. Juvenile word spittle shaped in the mould of half remembered quotes from Shakespeare or Melville or Milton that most of this site just eats up because they don't care for any media beyond pulp-quality commercial works and the fanfiction derived from them.

We don't even need to touch on the painfully Anglocentric nature of this site's userbase because it isn't just ignorant of media in other languages, but of most works in English itself. And there's little point blaming the US* education system because even confined to the chauvinistically narrow body of work placed within the accepted "Western Canon", it's not difficult to find writing that "goes" much "harder" than Seven Deadly Sins Squidward

*where the majority of this site's userbase is from

[tarotwithavi]

What are you underestimating about yourself?

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PILE 1

Alright, so I feel that you might be underestimating your resilience. You don't realize how strong you are and how you're able to go through situations that other people have difficulty handling. I also sense that you might find yourself in situations where others would have completely freaked out. You also underestimate your emotional intelligence sometimes. I feel like you think you're being too much, that your emotions are too much, that you’re feeling too much, and everything is just overwhelming. But you need to realize that this is your superpower. The way you feel and the way you express yourself is your strength. Do not let anyone tell you that you're too much or cringe. Your kind heart and your emotional depth are your strengths. Sometimes you might underestimate your ideas, your passions, your hobbies. Please know that you have the ability to make your dreams come true, alright? You're underestimating your potential and you need to realize it soon enough before it slips away. Honestly, I think it's never too late to explore yourself or discover a new version of you, but still, some things are better done sooner than later. And I also see that you might underestimate your beauty, darling. How should I convince you that you are the most beautiful person in the entire universe? Beauty is subjective. Just because someone doesn't understand your beauty doesn't mean you're not. And you should definitely not be underestimating the way you dress yourself. You are literally an inspiration. You are literally a fashion guru. I see that in the past, a lot of people around you doubted your ideas and the things you wanted to do. Maybe you wanted to become a fashion designer and someone in your family told you that it was irrelevant. I'm especially getting something related to fashion, makeup, styling, and things like that.

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PILE 2

You are underestimating your intuition, because the message I'm getting is that a lot of times you get a vision, a dream, or a feeling that something is about to happen, and when it does, you get shocked like, babe, you saw that coming. Sometimes you doubt yourself. Sometimes you think that if you share this with somebody, no one is going to believe you. But I want you to know that your intuition is amazing. I feel like some of you could actually be psychics. You are underestimating your vision and your passion. I see that you might be stuck in a cycle where you are doing things you don't even want to do, just for the sake of it, and it is getting you nowhere. You are underestimating your “I don’t give a f***” energy. I know you care deeply for people, but when someone crosses your boundaries, you are out. You won't even look in their direction for the rest of your life, and that is the level of your energy. Sometimes you may have forgiven your friends or even family for terrible things because you thought you were being too much or too dramatic. But you are underestimating your courage to walk away. I feel like some of you might resonate with pile one, because I got a similar energy for both these piles. Some of you might be thinking about starting your own blog, but you believe you are not skilled enough or need to learn more. The truth is, you already are. You already know enough. Just do it. Start that business, that YouTube channel, that influencer journey or UGC page. You may feel like you need to learn more or that what you know is not enough to get you through, but trust me, it is.

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PILE 3

You are underestimating your voice and your words. I feel like you might not talk much, but when you do, it’s like words of wisdom flow out of you. You could genuinely profit from the way you speak. You could be a great writer or someone who has the ability to inspire others with your words. Sometimes you feel like nobody is going to listen to you or care about what you have to say, and that’s why you stay quiet most of the time. I also feel like you underestimate your social skills. You might be a Gemini or have Gemini or another air sign in your Sun, Moon, or Rising. You are underestimating how much your thoughts are affecting your self-image right now. You might be overthinking or struggling with anxiety, and I feel like you need to do some throat chakra healing. You are restricting yourself from reaching your full potential. And honestly, we all do that sometimes when we are not in the right environment, around the right people, or when our thoughts and ideas are not being understood. In those moments, we start doubting ourselves and shrinking who we are. You are also underestimating how much of a control freak you can be. When things start slipping out of your hands, you lose your calm. But you don’t need to cling so tightly to the idea of feeling safe. Letting go does not mean losing yourself you know

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[nerdygirlramblings]

previous

You're staring down the barrel of the Glock when the air in your firing lane seems to solidify. It's been a bit breezy today, perfect to practice timing your shots, so when the wind picks up, you pause, noting the smell of sea salt and springtime as it passes you. The breeze drops and you squeeze the trigger three times in quick succession, angling your arm down the lane while turning your head to Gaz and Soap. You don't watch your shots land; you know they're grouped neatly on the target's center of mass. Instead, you watch the shock (Soap) and awe (Gaz) on each man's face.

"Everything okay?" you ask.

Soap stares, dumbfounded, at the paper target. His gaze flicks between it and you several times. His chin dropped when you fired; his jaw's still slack, mouth gaping. You worry he's short-circuited. Gaz on the other hand looks like he's won the National Lottery.

"Bloody hell!" he stammers, turning to you. He waves his arm down the lane. "That was...how did..." He stops suddenly, as if recognizing he's far more excited about what just happened than you are. "Ya've done tha' before, haven' ya?" he says, edging on suspicious.

You shrug, not out of any false sense humility, but because until this team - your pack, your omega whispers - no one else seemed to really value what you could do. You'd always worked ten times harder than others for what you earned, and you learned young not to crow about what you'd done unless you wanted boys of all designations and alpha and beta girls to ridicule you for refusing to keep yourself in the box they wanted you in.

Gaz watches your reaction and seems to intuitively understand. He takes half a step back and glances to see if anyone is in other lanes on the range before stepping forward and drawing you into his arms. "Yer amazing," he whispers into your hair. "And it's okay to admit just how great ya are."

Gaz's actions snap Soap out of his daze, and he throws his arms around your neck, knocking Gaz aside. "Cannae believe yoor ours," he says. You're glad you three seem to be the only ones out right now because while he's dropped his voice into what he probably believes is a quiet range, it sounds loud in your ear. He lets go quickly, stepping back and holding you at arms length. "Ah know yoor not ours officially. Yet. But Ah am so glad ye wan' tae be." More than their delight at your marksmanship, its this quiet affirmation of their desire for you to be pack that make your heart trip over itself.

"Did ya wan' something or are ya here ta gander?" you ask, carefully packing away the weapon and shells you have left to return to the armory. With Soap and Gaz standing aimlessly about, there's no way you're getting any more practice. You snap the gun case closed and shift to pick up the box of shells. Gaz scrambles forward to take both off your hands, and you briefly fight with your omega over it. You've been carrying your own supplies your entire career, but she insists this is something Gaz is doing to show you he can care for your needs, like he'll need to do when you're in heat. He watches you as you take a few deep breaths, finally relinquishing the hold you still have on the handle. From the relief on Gaz's face, you know your omega was right.

It's clear you're going to need some help in letting your instincts guide you.

You walk to the front of the range, the sergeants falling into step beside you. The three of you are quiet; even Soap doesn't seem to mind the companionable silence. Neither man tries to touch you. There's no hand wrapped around yours, no arm draped over your shoulders. This time, while your omega whines and wants the contact, she doesn't demand it. She understands how important it is for you to keep your career from being overshadowed by her presence.

After returning your supplies and collecting your targets, Gaz finally says, "With the Waterloo gala in a few days, we need to run contingencies." He steers you toward the administration building. Thoughts of the gala conjure images of Spinner. You saw beneath the mask last time because your training told you what to look for, but he didn't know that. You weren't expecting it, and the anticipation of this upcoming event, of seeing the real Spinner again, has your omega on alert.

Adam has the room set up like a miniature command center. The building's blueprints are projected on one wall with points of entry as well as employee spaces clearly marked. On another wall is a series of images of people Laswell knows will be there with a laundry list of the skeletons in their closets. Once you're sat at the table, Price says, "Olright, we need to get intel on Spinner's activities. We'd had a plan last time that almost went tit's up when Arella didn't show." He looks at you and reminds everyone, "If it weren't fer Ren's quick thinkin', we'd a' come out empty handed. So, this time, no plan." Price focuses on Gaz. "Yer in wit' Ren again. Gives an easier cover fer anyone who might remember either a' ya from last time. Yer both smart. Ya have good instincts. Lean inta 'em."

He points to the blueprints and highlights a hidden alcove. "One a' us will be 'ere all night, in the event of a problem. The others will monitor from here," he indicates an employee lounge on another floor. He looks directly at you, pinning you with his gaze. "I know yer omega isn't happy about bein' around Spinner again. And my alpha's pissed off 'bout it, too, but 's the nature of the job, sometimes. We won' let anything happen ta ya, yeah?"

You nod. It settles both you and your omega to know Price isn't happy about this set up either, but as he said, the nature of your job will sometimes put you in dangerous situations. You trust they'll keep you safe.

Over the next three days, the field work looks dramatically different. There are no infiltration or exfil drills on the moon; instead, you're given a VR headset someone hastily slapped the hotel schematics into. Leave by the door behind the bar. Get out onto the balcony. Make it from the dancefloor to the employee-only elevator. By day three the rough walk-through has been hastily populated with glorified NPCs. You walk the hotel's virtual halls until you could do it in your sleep. Gaz doesn't struggle as much, but given he's done this kind of training before, it isn't surprising.

There's no grift work, but you and Gaz memorize as much of the dossiers on the wall as you can. Names, faces, jobs, and secrets: you commit it all to memory. A little online digging dregs up associates too, wives, children, and packmates who might accompany these men at the gala. A random encounter in the loo with someone's unsuspecting partner has as much a chance of yielding information as an intentional conversation during dinner. Laswell's putting a lot of faith in you after the last mission, and you refuse to let her down. Every opportunity for information is one you plan to take.

The night before the gala, Price herds you to the team's barracks again. The rec room's table overflows with take away. Pizza boxes tower over open containers of fish and chips, curries, kebabs, and Chinese. It's enough food to easily feed everyone twice over.

Soap runs a hand over his mohawk. "We didnae know what ye liked best," he says with a sheepish smile.

"I know ya agreed ta us courtin' ya almost a week ago, and we've been shite about it since," Price tells you. "I thought it would be good, 'specially wi' the gala t'morrow, ta get cracking." His smile isn't sheepish, but there's a nervousness there nonetheless. When you don't immediately respond, he continues, "We've never done this sort 'a thing, but we thought dinner was a good start. Eatin' from the mess doesn't give a good impression of what ya like best, so..." He shrugs and throws his arm out, tilting his head at the table. "When we find out what ya like best, we won' order so much."

Gaz pats the space in the middle of the sofa, and Ghost leans forward with a plate of a little of everything. Accepting it with a smile, you debate for a moment how much to tell them. Finally, you relent and admit, "I'm not big on curries unless it's curry sauce on chips."

Before you can apologize, Soap plucks the plate out of your hands. "Ah love Indian, so Ah'll take it," he says.

Ghost looks at your empty lap. "Tell me wha' ya wan' then, Ren. Wanna give ya somethin' you'll like." And just like that your nerves melt away. The easy acceptance of your preferences is not a blow to his ego or an indictment of his care. He truly wants to learn what you like in order to be more attentive to you. Your omega preens.

During the meal, as you tell them you only eat cheese or meat on pizza and that you prefer dumplings to crab rangoons, the team pack explains what courting looks like to them. "I know we can' do much here, not without changin' how others will see ya," Price acquiesces, "but tha' doesn' mean we don't want ta spoil ya. Jus' means we're gunna have ta get creative 'bout how we do it."

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stare at Loki as he leads you and Queenie through the halls. His tall figure moves lithely on his long legs. He's formidable in his own way, even if he's slimmer than Thor. He could do a lot of damage.

As he reaches the wide doorway of the grand dining room, one might even call it a hall like some fantasy novel, he turns. Your eyes widen as he catches you sizing him up. You smile awkwardly as Queenie doesn't miss a step. She latches onto your hand and pulls you past him.

He follows. She takes you to the other side of the table and before she can let you go, Loki slides a chair out. He looks at you expectantly. Queenie squeezes then lets go.

"Uhhh, thanks," you shift in front of the chair and sit. He pushes it into your knees and slides you in. He doesn't do the same for Queenie.

He goes around and sits across from you. You swing your feet and look up and down the long table. You stare at the painting of a lion feasting on ribcage full of fruit. How grim.

"I love kitties," you say.

Loki squints and follows his guideline. He smirks.

"More a beast," he remarks.

"I had a cat," Queenie says. "He was funny. Never got another. Missed him too much."

Loki yawns, "I'm certain my brother fills that void."

As if summoned by the very mention of him, Thor appears. He bounces in and drags out the chair at the head of the table. He grins at you all.

"I am starving," he balls his hand as his arm drapes over the rest. His knuckles are bruised.

"I'm a touch peckish myself." Loki mutters.

You turn your attention to the spread before you. Long platters of brioche crackers and soft cheese spreads and bruschetta, quartered sandwiches on fancy bread with seeds, and other delicious bits and bobs. You would be hungrier if Loki wasn't looking at you like that...

His green eyes narrow at you. The curve lingers in his lips. He leans forward.

"Darling, aren't you hungry?" He wonders.

You gulp and nod. You reach for a cracker.

"Ahh, it is a pity my brother devoured your lovely tarts," Thor chortles. "I believe he enjoyed them thoroughly."

"Oh, um... well, it's great everyone liked them," you nibble at the edge.

Loki doesn't stop watching. "Well, it would be tragedy for any of those precious berries to go to waste. The very idea puts me to disgust. Who would ever do such a thing? I hope you were able to make good use of your own share of the berries."

You blink. Oh. Well he's being very obvious without being very obvious. You look at Queenie. She stares at her plate.

Thor shovels food onto his plate and just as quickly into his mouth. His chewing mulches in the silence. Queenie looks up at Loki.

"No," she mouths.

Loki chuckles. He reaches for the teapot and hovers it over the tray.

"Tea, darling?" He offers.

You flinch as you realise he is asking you. You nod. "Okay. Thanks."

Loki pours. First into your cup, then his.

"Something the matter?" He asks.

You shake your head and lift the cup.

"No sugar?" He lifts the small tongs in the dish of cubes. Again, you can only twist your head back and forth.

Queenie leans over and touches Thor's arm. He glances up from his feast. She points between you and Loki. Oh no, it's not just in your head...

"Please," she whispers.

Thor wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins. He snags onto Queenie's hand with a speed that startles you.

"Yes, kitten, I think I would like a walk in the garden. Let my food settle..." he stands. She tries to tug away.

"Thor," she pleads.

"Come. Unless you'd rather I carry you, my queen," he growls.

She twitches. "Thor..." she murmurs.

"Up." He intones.

She looks at you then Loki. Her face contorts in desperation. She touches your arm with her free hand.

She's yanked away before she can speak. She chokes on a yelp as Thor drags her away, the chair teetering dangerously in her stead. You watch her as she's led out into the hallway by the burly man. He reminds you of the lion in the painting.

You look at the image again. You notice the snake woven through the gnawed ribcage. Eerie.

Loki sighs, "well, those too are ever insatiable." He snickers and sips his tea. You put yours down before you can spill it.

"I... don't know," you fidget. "Um. Did you see the butterflies?"

"Suppose I was too distracted," his eyes are stuck to you.

"Mmhm. You must be busy? Lots of work to do."

"I get done what needs done," he assures calmly. He inhales the scent of his tea.

"Sure, sure, er," you rub your arm, defensively folding the other over your chest. "I just remembered, actually, I left my laundry in the washer at home so maybe I should uber--"

You stand and he sits tall. You hesitate. He sets down the cup.

"What's a few more hours?" He challenges. "You must have a lot of laundry."

"Oh, uh..."

"I do hear berries stain terribly." He slithers.

You frown. "Loki..."

"Yes, darling," he tweaks a brow.

"What did you do?"

"Hm? What did I do? You must be more specific." His smirk deepens.

Your insides are all wiggly. You can barely breathe. "To... to my sister. You hurt her, didn't you?"

He lowers his brows and shrug. "I did?"

"I... think? I got home and she-- you scared her. You--"

"She hurt you first," he leans back coolly.

You exhale shakily. "But..."

"It is how these things are. You cannot allow anyone to tamper with what belongs to you." He explains. "And she will not bother you again, I'm certain of that."

You cling to that word. Mine? His?

"Loki? I'm not--"

"Oh, you very much are. Now, I am a gentleman so I would not be so rude as to eat in front of you so greedily." He reaches for the chair next to him and pushes it back. He pats the arm rest. "Come sit."

You gape at him. He waits. Patiently. You're not sure how long that will last.

"Loki," you quaver. "You hurt my sister."

"Oh yes, I believe I did. And I'll do it again should she think to distress you so deeply," he girds and points to the chair. "You would do well to believe me when I say I will do whatever I need to to be sure that what belongs to me is safe." He beckons to you with two fingers. "And we both know you are far too sweet to do it yourself."

[nikknamed-ink]

What helps me in life, or rather the thing I struggle with most, is pressure.

I had a time during my school days, when I didn't write at all. I only noticed this like a year in, but I simply had no time due to the school pressure and having to learn, and stuff.

I also had a time, maybe it was even the same timeframe but I don't remember fully, when I decided that if I can't finish anything I start I can't start anything new.

This pressure led to me not writing at all for that time.

Maybe situation A caused B, maybe the other way around, but I spent a long long while not writing.

I think what helped me out of it, ultimately,was a) to give it time. And b) to take all the pressure out. Or, as much as I could.

That could look like: only writing down ideas (a habit I rly rly encourage. Write down your ideas every time you get them bc that means you'll get more and it's generally a lot of fun to look at later on). Or... Only writing dialogue. Or something that might help you: if you wanna get back, but you can't get far, set yourself the goal of writing one (1) word per day. Just one. If you feel like more you can write more. But just write one. That's all it takes.

Because I generally find that putting pressure on myself to do it all always super well it... Leads to disappointment and pain when I get a bad day and I get rly hard on myself about it.

Which, also, I wanna talk about: be kind to yourself. Focus on what you did do, not what you didn't.

When you said you managed to write 2 sentences and then faltered, that's two entire sentences! That's amazing. Like, you went from not using those muscles to two sentences. That's infinite improvement.

But I think, what's most important, is listen to your body and brain. If something doesn't work it usually is a clue for the fact that you're going at it wrong. Find different routes. If you wrote a lot of prose (novel-like text for example), then try poetry. If you can't get descriptions down, try dialogue only. Or the reverse. How about movie scripts? Comics? See what strikes your fancy!

I'm currently in a phase where I don't really write much in the "the story moves forward" sense, but I plan a lot. I think about the stories, I try to figure out where the story goes and what the problems are and why this character does that.

Lean into what works, and ignore what doesn’t for now. And look at that in a week or so and try to figure out why.

Also, best tip of mine: grab yourself a buddy and talk with them about your ideas. Brainstorm together. Create ideas that aren't intended to be written down. There's lots of games for this. (or if you don't know any, plushies or making an audio to yourself are great ways to just talk out loud to yourself about the story or characters or whatever it is that actually drives you to the stories you wanna tell.

See what works. Celebrate it. And be proud of what you're doing. Pressure is the enemy of creativity. At least it is for me.

Hi! Lately, I've been trying real hard to start writing again after a break of a couple of years, and it's simply not happening. I took the break to begin with because I figured that I could pick up writing fic again easily when I felt less burned out. But each time I've tried since 2025 started I can barely get the words out. I keep telling myself I need to go slow and build up to it, but my brain blanks after a sentence or two, with or without an outline. I can force myself into a drabble or two, or even a flashfic, but it feels like pulling teeth the entire time. I even tried going back to old drafts and adding to them (unsuccessfully). Nothing works! I'm getting more and more frustrated and angry with myself for taking this long of a break from being creative. Do you have any concrete recommendations for what to do when the ideas/words/characters/whatever just aren't coming? My brain is mush.

(I love this blog. So excited to see you back.)

I'll tell you what I do, but I also want to encourage folks to add their thoughts on the notes. This is very much a situation that can be worked on in a million different ways, so any one particular take might or might not work. Often, frankensteining a bunch together is the better route.

I've currently got two creative hobbies: writing fic and making site skins for AO3. When a site skin isn't working, I just have to drop it. I've been attempting to redo my glowy blue Tron skin from like 4 years ago and every time I go back to it, I just get frustrated and need to stop. I don't have a clear idea of where I want to take it, and so nothing looks "right" because everything feels wrong. For site skins, I need to have a solid idea to latch onto in order to get anywhere with them.

For writing, it's kind of similar. It's a LOT easier to write when I have an idea that really lights a fire under me. However, I've found that I can write even if I just know what the end goal of the story is. Even if my ending is just "and then they bone" at least I know where I need to get my characters in the end, and that guiding principle is really helpful because most of what my characters do in the fic is going to be aimed at that end point.

I don't know if it's just the way that you've phrased it in this ask, but it seems like you can't see the story for the words. If you're focused too much on the act of writing then you might need to back away from that for now and work on just imagining the story first. Spend more time daydreaming or lying in bed staring up at the ceiling and picturing your blorbo in situations. Get into the habit of thinking about the story before you start writing the story. Then the writing part is just transcribing the picture that's already clear in your head.

I well understand the frustration that comes when you've got something in you and no way to get it out. Whatever else is happening, the way you used to go about writing fic doesn't work for you anymore and now you need to discover a new method. Maybe it's handwriting in a notebook instead of typing on a screen. Maybe it's dictating into your notes app. Maybe it's chatting it out with a bestie over coffee or in a DM. Maybe it's something else.

Let's see what other people suggest for you, and then you can cobble together a method of your very own. Good luck, anon! I'm rooting for you ❤️

[rupeenotruby]

I view og Link and Hyrule and separate characters despite the fact that they are technically the same character. Because of this I have certain headcanons for them that don't transfer over, and I thought it would be fun to talk about them! When interacting with LU I try to keep headcanons as close to the comic as possible, especially when it comes to Hyrule as this makes it more fun for me. Therefore, you will see a lot of the reasoning for headcanons being pretty much "it's like that in the comic."

For whatever reason, Link is depicted with his sword on his hip instead of his back like most other Links.

(There is also a post card with AoL Link on it riding a motorcycle that has him have his sword on his hip (I couldn't find it). Less canon than the manual to me but still interesting.). In LU however Hyrule puts his sword on his back like everyone else!

In both TLoz and AoL Link technically holds his sword in both hands as they flip the sprite instead of drawing a new one depending on which way Link is facing so that his sword hand is always closest to the screen.

(All sprites in this were ripped by Mister Mike)

And I KNOW!!! it is most likely due to hardware limitations but if the Tp Link gets to be headcanoned as ambidextrous because his entire game was flipped so can this Link!!! This isn't really something I see get acknowledge much by the fandom (in fact I've only seen it mentioned TWICE) and it isn't mentioned in LU. I like left-handed Link so even though he is ambidextrous he still mostly uses his sword in his left hand.

Link isn't that short!!!! ... at least in his Hyrule. Observe:

So, I put him at an averageish height. Honestly it doesn't matter what his actual height is since this is a fantasy world but whatever it is he is slightly above average. Hyrule however? He isn't that tall in a group of Links so he is definitely below average in height 😭 I would say in real world terms Link is around 5'9 and Hyrule is around 5'5.

There are three ways to approach Link's fairy form.

He shrinks and grows wings

He turns into a little creature (which is someone's fanmade fairy design)

Or he looks like one of the fairies in his game

I see the most of the first one and even if it isn't how it looks in game it's popularity makes sense. I prefer the third option (if you couldn't tell) cause I think it's fun and closest to canon (I suppose if you wanted to be 100% canon you would give him a total make over x). I base it on a combo of the manual and the game. I've heard along the grapevine Hyrule's fairy form goes the first route and has dragonfly wings which I think is a good fit in terms of bug wings. Also I want antennae!

(My designs for the Zeldas aren't final shhhhh) I don't really ship much but I can see Link and Princess Zelda getting married for political reasons (there's the whole "great king" thing and having two princesses which could create some succession issues and I think Link getting married would just clear things up and look good to the people of Hyrule. I think he would marry the first Zelda he meets because I've always seen her as the more leader type and politically oriented of the two). That being said I don't think Link would actually be attracted to either Zelda. Or anyone. This isn't really based on anything except for the fact that I said so lol.

Now Hyrule has a bit more explaining. I keep the political/platonic marriage to Dawn but the zelink of choice for him is with Aurora because when I was first reading LU I thought it was being set up in a way that put all the Links with their "primary" non-Zelda love interests except for Sky. So Time with Malon, Legend with Marin, Twilight with Midna and Wild with Mipha (don't ask about the other three I did not think about them all that often) and all of those are redheads.... so since I headcanon Aurora with the red hair I thought Hyrule would be shipped with her. I've later found out this isn't the case and that some Links are going to end up with their Zeldas but xD I don't really care ships don't matter that much in LU anyways and honestly I don't even know if Jojo considers the Zeldas to be separate people. Also why don't I just have the marriage be between Hyrule and Aurora? Ehhhh. Errrrm.. I really like platonic marriages.

This is a pretty common headcanon and it is based on two lines from the first manual and the second manual. In the first manual it established that Link was a traveler (hence the nickname in LU). "During his travels he had come across Impa and Ganon's henchmen." In the second it says "Link remained in the little kingdom of Hyrule and lent his hand to its restoration." Which implies that either Link was planning to leave Hyrule (and thus could be from Hyrule) or had traveled to Hyrule (and thus wasn't from Hyrule).

I choose to see it as that he isn't from Hyrule. I also think it is fun to have the "Hero of Hyrule" not be from Hyrule. A lot of people go with Calatia (which is canon to the comics and I don't consider the comics to be canon) and I go with that too because honestly it doesn't really matter where he came from, just that it isn't Hyrule.

Technically Link is always touching the Magical Sword in AoL so I've always pictured it as a magic wand of sorts for his magic making it stronger and more focused hence why he doesn't start all this fancy magic until after he gets the sword. Link can use magic without it it's just not as good (like the sword beams). I just think it is a little odd that the "Magic Sword" doesn't seem to do anything special. Obviously this doesn't apply to Hyrule as he heals Twilight without the sword.

Some people get this wrong but in AoL it states that "One day, a strange mark, exactly like the crest of the kingdom, appeared on the back of Link's hand as he approached his 16th birthday." And I think it's pretty likely that he set out right after hearing the Legend of Zelda from Impa and celebrated his birthday on the road. So, I think it would be funny he got whisked away to the LU adventure right before his 18th birthday and just never mentioned it.

That's all! Obviously, I have more headcanons but they can be applied to both Link and Hyrule to varying degrees. I first played AoL four years ago now (six years ago for TLoZ) and found LU a little while after AoL. In the beginning my view of Link and Hyrule were pretty cloudy but as time has gone on they have solidified into different characters in my mind that would do slightly different things. That being said the LU fandom has been an awesome source of headcanons and perspectives on Link.

One of the headcanons that I know for certain that has come from the LU fandom is the fact that Link can's swim. Which yeah! Isn't it weird that he uses all sorts of ways to traverse water but none of them involve getting in the water? Or that a way to insta die in AoL is falling in lava or water? Maybe I would have come to that conclusion on my own or maybe not but who cares about the "maybes."

There are a lot of things the fandom does in regard to Hyrule that I disagree with but find interesting, or dislike, or hate, or things I agree with and love! But no matter what it has made me see a game that means so much to me in so many different ways. And isn't that the point of being in a fandom?

[emeraldserenade]

Can you do a Joaquin Torres with younger reader where she's looking for a sugar daddy out of boredom? Thanks.

Sugary Sweet ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: It was boredom before it was love

tw: fem!reader, reader doesn't know Spanish, age gap (7 years, reader's 25), sugar baby/sugar daddy to lovers, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

➽──────────────❥

It wasn't out of desperation or recklessness, it was boredom. You watched one of your friends date a sugar daddy because she hated her job and loved it more. You loved your job, it was a nice family owned Mexican restaurant that was the size of a small town diner. You were their only waitress, both of their son's worked in the back with their father and their mother ran the counter. It worked out for you, you were in college and had to take a foreign language class. They all told you to take Spanish and that they would help you.

Joaquín met you there, the young, pretty, and nice waitress that served him with a smile. One that didn't care who he was or who he knew. You treated him like you did any other customer, not that there was another in there. Joaquín watched as you floated around the room, bringing him his order before making it back to the counter to talk and joke with the older lady.

"Wait, so this isn't gendered?" Joaquín heard you ask the lady.

"No, cariño isn't a gendered term," the lady told you and Joaquín watched as you slowly nodded.

"Ok, but hermosa and hermoso are gendered?" Joaquín realized you had a paper sitting between you and the lady. A pen in your hand as you wrote small notes down.

"Yes, cariño is considered gender neutral even though it is in a masculine format," the lady told you and you nodded, a small smile gracing your face. You wrote on the paper before walking back over to Joaquín with the pitcher of water in your hand.

"How is everything?" You asked him, a genuine smile on your face.

"It's great," Joaquín told you, his eyes tracing each feature of your face. "I heard you talking about Spanish petnames," Joaquín tried to make casual conversation. It worked when you placed the pitcher down on the table and leaned your hip against the booth seat across from Joaquín.

"Yeah, I go to Georgetown and I had to take a foreign language. I chose Spanish since they offered to help me if I took it," you told him. "It's kinda kicking my ass to be honest, but they're very helpful," you added with a huge smile.

Joaquín and you kept talking the whole time as he ate, eventually you ended up sitting across from him and Marie brought you your homework. Joaquín helped you with it since a small group of men sat themselves down at the counter and Marie got busy. By the time Joaquín left, you had his number with the promise to call if you wanted or needed anything.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You weren't sure who brought it up first, just that it happened when you casually started to complain to Joaquín about not being able to afford rent and groceries. "I'll have to start taking up more shifts," you groaned, throwing yourself down on Joaquín's couch. He offered to make you dinner the first time you started to complain. "Which sucks because I already do commissioned paintings for people and already barely have time to finish them between work and school," you told him, staring at his ceiling.

Then an hour later you were sitting at his table going over rules. "Obviously exclusive," you said, your head resting on your hands that were folded on the table. You were gazing at his face across the table, there was no issue with looks or personality with Joaquín. He was attractive and perfect in all ways, if you weren't 7 years younger than him you for sure would have just dated him.

"If anyone asks, we're dating," Joaquín said, it may have been selfish but he liked the idea of you being his. Not in the sense of him just giving you money and you fulfilling his need for company, both casual and sexual, but in the sense of actually calling you his.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

By the time you realized you were fully in love with Joaquín, it was too late. You were dressed up and waiting for him to pick you up for some fancy gala, you were his arm candy for the night. You did your hair and makeup, added the jewelry Joaquín had gotten you over the few months, and slipped on the ridiculously expensive shoes you'd never buy for yourself. The dark, emerald green silk of the dress hugged your curves and stooped low on your back. It stopped just before the curve of your ass and had a high slit on your right leg and a deep V neck.

A knock on your door broke you out of your stupor, Joaquín was there just on time like always. You opened the door and you saw the way Joaquín's breath hitched. "You look gorgeous, angel," Joaquín gripped your hips and pulled you to him. His lips found yours, not caring about the lipstick you were wearing.

You pulled away and gently wiped the lipstick on his lips away with a smile. "It doesn't show too much?"

"Baby, wear whatever you want. I can fight," Joaquín told you, kissing you again.

"We gotta go, honey," you told him, moving to wipe your stray lipstick away again only for Joaquín to stop you.

"Might as well leave it, I'll have more later," Joaquín told you, pulling away to lead you to the elevator with a hand on the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his hand spread over your back as you walked, grounding you as you thought about the gala.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

The gala was more fun than you thought it would be, you got to meet people who were mostly nice. But you truly had more fun with how Joaquín never took a hand off you, even when people offered handshakes. His left hand securely on the small of your back, covering the expanse of it with his hand. You had to suppress a smile when one of the single daughters of some important man tried to hug Joaquín in greeting, under the guise of being a hugger, only for Joaquín to pull you closer to him and slip his arm around you with his hand to resting over your stomach. You watched her huff, look you up and down, pout at Joaquín, and try to convince him that you'll be ok with him hugging her.

"But, Falcon, I'm sure you're little toy will be ok for a moment," she told begged, you raised an eyebrow at her. You felt Joaquín's hand tense against your stomach as he realized her words.

"Y/n is actually my girl, so even if she was ok for a moment, I wouldn't hug you," Joaquín told her firmly, you shared a look with Sam at Joaquín's words. Both of you had amusement and pride in your eyes as the girl stuttered over her words.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín had told you to stay close to Sam, that he was running to the bathroom and wanted to make sure you were ok. You laughed it off, gave him a kiss, and told him you'd stay with Sam. Which is how you found yourself sitting next to Sam at one of the tables with a plate of food in front of you. They had just brought out food as soon as Joaquín left, so Sam took you to get food.

"You two are quite romantic for your situation," Sam mused, his plate significantly more full than yours.

"What do you mean?" You questioned, trying to play dumb.

"Look, I can buy Joaquín being that oblivious, but I know you're not," Sam started talking, placing his fork down. You followed suit and turned to fully face him. "I know you're in love with him and he's in love with you," Sam said it plainly.

"Oh," you breathed out, relieved that someone else noticed the change. Sam didn't have time to say anything more before Joaquín came back, his hand sliding back around you as he pulled a seat right against yours. You looked over at him with a smile, trying to memorize his face. You knew if he found out you loved him, if he knew that you were violating one of the rules, this whole thing could end.

You gently offered him one of the strawberries off your plate and he gladly took it. "I'm going to go say hi to some more people," Sam clapped his hand on Joaquín's shoulder as he left. Joaquín kept his arm around you and his hand splayed out on your stomach again.

You kept offering him some of the things off your plate, the purposefully overstuffed plate so you could offer food to Joaquín. "I've been thinking," Joaquín started and you slowed your movements. Did he know? Was your time with him over already?

"About?" You tried to keep your voice normal.

"Us," Joaquín's thumb started to rub over the small part of your stomach it could reach. "How this no longer feels transactional," he kept talking.

"And?"

"And I think it's time for me to properly ask you to be mine," Joaquín responded and you turned fully to face him. Your legs ending up between his with his hands resting on your waist.

"I'd love to," you told him, your smile mirrored on his face.

"Good because I love you," Joaquín leaned forward and placed his forehead against yours.

"I love you more," you told him, staring him in the eyes.

"Impossible," he told you before placing a searing kiss on your lips.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[archivesctrccio]

she drives me crazy. chapter 2.

⁠✧ pairing.. head cheerleader!jackie taylor x basketball player!reader.

⁠✧ warnings.. inspired by the 'She drives me crazy', book by Kelly Quindlen. characters are a little ooc(?)

⁠✧ words.. 3.9k.

✎ᝰ. jinx notes.. Sorry for the delay guys 😭 by the way, I have a question. Does the chapters being too long bother you? Personally it doesn't bother me but I get carried away writing... anyways let me know pls

prev.     next.

It takes a while for all your senses to return. Your heart is racing so fast you feel like you're on a roller coaster. Your whole body is hot, and your palms are damp with sweat.

The car you collided with is a black sedan, but before you can get a good look, the other driver gets out of the vehicle, stomping her feet with all the rage of a rabid pinscher.

Jackie Taylor.

Fuck.

Your shock turns to fury immediately. It had to be her. You know you weren’t exactly looking when you crashed, but you also know you had the right of way. Jackie must have decided that the rules of the road don't apply to her.

Your adrenaline rush makes you get out of the car before you can think too much. You slam the car door and meet her halfway.

— What the hell is this? — you ask.

Her eyes flash when she sees you. Quietly, she answers:

— You’ve got to be kidding me.

You ignore her and walk over to the bumper. Miraculously, there's only a small dent; you'll have to fix it, but it's still drivable.

Behind you, Jackie examines her own car.

— Shit — she complains — my parents are going to kill me.

— Well, mine too. — You say, kicking a rock near the wheel of your car. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you fight them back. You hate the idea of crying in front of Jackie Taylor. Again. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but when you turn to look at her car, your entire stomach drops.

Her rear bumper is a mangled, bent wreck; the right side is hanging off, dragging on the asphalt. It's impossible to drive a car like that. Your anger suddenly turns to panic. If her car is worse than yours, does that mean you're to blame? Even if you had the right of way?

You control your breathing and look at her.

— Damn. I'm sorry.

Her eyes burn like you just said something offensive.

— Are you really that stupid? — she snaps. — You should never apologize after a car accident. You basically admitted guilt.

You are so disturbed that you can only stare at her as she say:

— You're lucky I'm not the kind of person who's going to fake a serious injury or some fake emotional trauma to sue you and your parents until I suck all your money out of you, but someone else could do it. Use your head.

Anger flares up in you again.

— Are you really trying to teach me a lesson now? You're the one who reversed my car!

— Why didn't you stop when you saw me?

— Why didn't you stop when you saw me?

You create a commotion in the parking lot. A bunch of people from your class run over to see what happened. Even though school ended a few hours ago, There are still enough people that your accident would be impossible to hide.

— Are you guys okay?

— Aah, your car's back is fucked.

— Oh, shit! Tow Truck Girl fucked up her car again!

One of the cheerleaders rushes to your side, her eyes bulging out of her head. It's Jackie's best friend, the same girl who asked if you were okay earlier: Taissa Turner. She is the great-great-granddaughter of the legendary Mrs. Earl. Her family still owns the Emporium, and she is not exactly how you would imagine a girl to be who comes from a family whose business is Christmas. She has a sweet but firm voice, cartoonish expressions, and is extremely intelligent. She is the perfect combination of Princess Bubblegum and Marceline.

— Holy shit — she exclaims, running straight to you — What happened? Are you guys okay?

Jackie runs her hand slowly over her face.

— I have to call my mom. Shit.

She walks away with her cell phone, her eyebrow still furrowed in anger. Taissa gives you a sympathetic look, but you turn your back and grab your own cell phone.

Your mother shows up fifteen minutes after you call. She brushes the hair off your forehead and comforts you with her calm, steady voice. The whole world could explode and your mother would say: “Um, now how are we going to deal with this?”

— Are you hurt? — she asks.

— No.

— Were you on your cell phone?

— No.

Your mother nods, examining you with the "I don't let anything slip by" look.

— Okay. Let's call the insurance company.

Jackie's mother arrives shortly after this. She is an attractive, sophisticated-looking woman with wavy blonde hair and flawless lipstick, She is wearing a lilac lab coat and a name tag that reads Dr. Taylor. She has the same observant expression as Jackie, the kind that seems able to read you in a second. And that's exactly what she appears to be doing to Jackie now.

— How did this happen? — she asks, tilting her head toward her daughter. Her voice is calm, but authoritarian.

Jackie huffs, crossing her arms over her torso.

— I was reversing, I didn't see her coming…

Mrs. Taylor interrupts her.

— Weren't you looking?

— I was, but…

— But were you lost in your own thoughts, imagining other cheerleading routines?

Jackie's mouth forms a thin line and her eyes drop to the ground.

—That's what happens when you're not focused. — Mrs. Taylor continues. — You know you can't let your guard down. Take pictures of the back. From every angle!

There's an unbearable gap while your moms are on the phone with the insurance company and Jackie and you have nothing to do but exhaustingly ignore each other. When it's all over, your mothers nod to each other and announce that you're both responsible—since both cars were moving—but that Jackie is mostly to blame, since you had preference.

—That's not fair, — Jackie says, shaking her head. — She ran around the bend, she wasn't even looking…

—How do you know I wasn’t looking? — you say, irritated. — Look who's talking! This is the second time you've made fun of my car!

Your mother frowns.

— What do you mean by that?

A silence hangs in the air. You never told your parents the truth about how your car got towed last year; you lied and said you accidentally stopped in front of a fire hydrant. You were too embarrassed to admit that you had been bullied by the cheerleader captain.

Now you and Jackie face each other for an intense moment. Her eyes are wide and anxious. It's the first sign of vulnerability you see in her.

— She... accidentally spilled coffee on my car once.

You don't know what possessed you to say that. This could have been your chance to get some well-deserved revenge, but you'd rather be The Tow Truck Girl than The Snitch Girl.

— Have you ever been in her car before? — Jackie's mother asks. — Are you two friends?

You stare at each other for a long moment.

— Hmm. — Jackie says, recovering. She gestures to her uniform. — I cheer for her team sometimes.

It's a good thing no one is looking at you, because the eye roll you give would prove that's a lie in a second. You have no doubt that Jackie, as captain, could ensure that your team cheered for you rather than the boys, but why would a cheerleader bother challenging the status quo?

— Oh, that’s great, — her mother murmurs. — Well, that makes it less weird, doesn’t it?

Jackie's mother chuckles.

— Yes, what a relief!

What follows is one of the worst mommy embarrassments you'll ever experience. Your moms introduce themselves to each other, make horrible jokes about how neither of you are one of those strict, meddling moms that would turn this accident into a spectacle.

— Imagine having to do that to a Candlehawk woman! — says your mother.

—That's a level of hell I don't need today! — Jackie's mother laughs.

Jackie and you say nothing, waiting for them to stop.

— Y/n, you seem like a serious student. — Dr. Taylor says suddenly. — What are you studying?

— Mom, stop... — Jackie tries.

— Er... my favorite subject is History. — you answer.

— Is that what you want to study in college?

— Sure, — you lie. You’ve never thought about it seriously, but Dr. Taylor seems like the kind of person who needs a confident answer.

— And what sport do you play? Is that a basketball uniform? Basketball is a great sport. See, Jackie? You can be a serious student and a competitive athlete.

— I am. — Jackie says, looking like she’s had this conversation a hundred times before.

— Cheerleading is also an admirable sport. — her mother opines.

Dr. Taylor nods politely, but obviously disagrees.

— Well, it looks like everything is in order here. — she says authoritatively. — We're waiting for the tow truck, but we'll leave as soon as it arrives.

You meet Jackie's eyes at the word tow truck.

She looks away, but you can see a twinge of guilt there.

— Having your car towed is horrible. — you say with false empathy. — it happened to me once. I'm sorry about that.

You can almost see the smoke coming out of her ears. It's so satisfying that you almost start singing. But then…

— It sucks to be without a car in this city. — Your mother says. — How are you going to get to school, Jackie?

— My husband and I can leave you here. — Jackie's mother says with a wave of her hand. — It's easy for us. We live there on Sleigh Byrne.

— Sleigh Byrne? — Your mother gives you an awkward smile, and suddenly, you’re dreading what she’s going to say next. — We live on the street next to it, in Bells Haven.

You look at her and you know what's going to happen.

— My daughter can give Jackie a ride! — Her mother declares, her eyes bright. — Please, we insist. It's the least we can do.

You try to look at your mother to tell her that this is a terrible idea, but the damage is already done. Jackie's mother lights up like this is the best plan she's ever heard.

She smiles happily at Jackie and holds her hands up as if to say, "Look at this!"

Jackie blinks and offers a grateful, polite smile to your mother, but you know she hates this idea as much as you do.

— Well, it’s settled — your mother says, looking at you excitedly. — Everything’s okay, right?

It's only after you move away from the Taylor family that you convey your horror:

— Mom! — you complain. —, I can't stand that girl! I'd rather go to school naked than have to give her a ride anywhere!

—I thought you said you were friends?

— Um... I mean, maybe that was a slight exaggeration. — You mess up. — But it doesn't matter! The accident wasn't my fault.

His mother is unfazed.

— No, it wasn't your fault, but it's still your responsibility. It won't kill you to give her a ride until the car is fixed.

Ultimately, you walk away from your first traffic accident with a bruised ego, a dented bumper, and the impending terror of giving a ride to the one person who can make your senior year at school even worse.

Your father and younger sister are in the yard hanging Halloween lights when you and your mother pull into your driveway.

Your house is a classic blue and lilac house with wooden floors and a small porch in the front. There is a maple tree in the front yard that reaches as high as the second floor, and a row of shrubs that shades the front porch. That's where her father and Victoria are, arranging the orange lights so they hang on the bushes the way Tori likes them.

— Is there a problem? — your father asks as you and your mother join them in the garden.

— My front bumper. — you reply with a grimace. — It's all crumpled up but I managed to drive it home…

— I was asking about you, sweetie. — Your father says, placing his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with a worried frown, as if he could guess that you have a concussion. That's one of the best things about your dad. He is going to be pissed about the bumper and will insist on accompanying you to the mechanic, but right now he's only concerned about you.

— I'm glad you're okay. — Victoria says, hugging you gently. — Want an ice pack? I have one in the freezer from when I hurt my big toe.

Victoria is the cutie of the family. She's only thirteen, but her parents like to say she has an old soul.

— It's okay, Tori, thanks.

— How is your neck? — your father asks. — Did it bounce?

— Just a little, — you reply, and your father begins to feel the top of your spine. He’s a chiropractor, so he’s always checking your back when you say you slept awkwardly or pulled a muscle on practice.

— Lie down on the grass. — his father says, taking a step back.

— What? Are we going to adjust it here?

— Tori and I are still arranging the decorations. — her father says as if it were obvious. — come on, you know how it works.

Your mother and Victoria just stand there, laughing, while you lie on the grass with your stomach down and your father starts to rub your back. If the neighbors are watching, you doubt they'll be shocked. Your family is known for doing strange things in the front yard. — Like the time five-year-old Victoria insisted you guys eat breakfast outside in your snowsuits. Right in the middle of summer.

— Okay, that should do it. — his father says, giving your neck one last twist. — Are you feeling better?

You can only grunt in response.

You spend the next half hour finishing up your Halloween decorations. It's already dark, so you're at the mercy of the porch lighting, but you're still motivated to finish because Halloween is next week. It is a tradition on your street that everyone gives their best in celebratory decorations. Your decorations, on the other hand, are pretty tacky. You put plastic tombstones all over the grass, and your mom puts a witch and vampire couple on the porch that look like the "American Gothic" painting, and Victoria hangs cobwebs on the mailbox. Your contribution is to arrange a group of skeletons around bales of straw. Last year, your dad made it look like the skeletons were dancing the macarena. This year, you put a thick piece of tobacco in one of their mouths to make it look like it's smoking. Your mother rolls her eyes, but leaves it at that.

Inside the house, you sit down to eat a chicken dinner that your father bought on the way back from the clinic. Your mother and Tori improvise a pasta dish, while your task is to prepare a dish for your older sister, Pamela, who is still working.

—I texted Pam about the accident—Tori says, helping herself to a double portion of pasta. — She was worried about you, y/n. I wanted to go straight home, but she said it was a mess there and that she was pissed off.

Pamela works as a bartender at the best bar in town, Chimney. She's saving up money to rent her own apartment, but for now she lives in your basement with her two cats, BooBoo and Pickles, who keep getting into your mom's garden to dig up the arugula. Cats drive your mother crazy. Your father is more relaxed with them, but he's always been more laid back when it comes to Pam, because he's technically her stepfather. Your mother divorced Pamela's biological father when she was still a baby, but did not marry your father until Pamela was seven years old.

— Y/n — your mother says when there is a pause in the conversation —, do you want to talk about what happened?

You peel the skin off the chicken, aware of everyone watching you. You knew the night of fun decorating would spill over into this conversation, but that didn't mean you were ready.

— Do we need to?

Your father tilts his head.

— Do we need to talk about the fact that you were so distracted that you didn't notice a car coming at you? Yes.

You drop your fork.

— I had a bad day, okay?

— Because of the game with Candlehawk? — Your father asks.

— Because of Allie? — Your mother adds.

You feel lucky to have parents who love you so much and are so involved in your life. They even know the little things that happen, like when you have a stressful test or if you had a fight with Lottie and that’s tormenting you. But sometimes this involvement is so sincere and omnipresent that you feel like every little thing has to end with them trying to sort it out at the dinner table.

— We're sorry we couldn't be there for the game — Your father says, ruffling your hair — We know it's a tough semester. It won't be easy for you without Allie.

— Losing your first love hurts a lot — your mother adds, understanding.

You're not sure your parents actually liked Allie. They smiled and hugged her when she came over, but you always got the feeling they were doing it for her sake, not because they genuinely liked her.

— I promise it will get better — your mother comforts you. — But that doesn't mean you can forget about the rest of your life. You still have your senior year of high school ahead of you, basketball, college, and your wonderful friends…

— I know, I know. — Tears well up in your eyes. You try to swallow them, but they end up falling onto your chicken. — I'm really sorry about the car, guys.

— It's okay. — Your mother says quietly. — Let's leave it at that for today. You can go upstairs and watch a movie. Victoria will take care of the dishes.

Doing the dishes alone sucks—you guys usually share the chores—but the wonderful thing about Victoria is that she wouldn't complain about it in a million years. She nods and clears everyone's plates, offering you a small smile, and you walk up the stairs to your room without looking back.

You spend a lot of time in the shower, probably your record time. For a while, you just stand under the water, your muscles burning, grateful for the heat. You wash your hair and scrub your face after a long cry.

Normally you would blow dry and straighten your hair so it looks good for school tomorrow, but tonight you don't feel like it. You pull on a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants and curl up in bed. For the first time all day, you feel like you can breathe.

Your mom was right to tell you to watch a movie. Today you put on 10 Things I Hate About You, the queen of teen romantic comedies. You can recite lines in your sleep.

A few minutes into the movie, Pamela walks into the room. She's still wearing her bartender uniform and holding her keys, which tells you she literally just got home. She throws herself on the bed, hugs you and makes a fuss as if you were an abandoned kitten she found on the street. Victoria walks in behind her, snuggling up on her other side.

— Who hurt you? — Pamela asks. — Who do I need to kill?

— No one. — You laugh. — I'm fine. How was work?

— The opposite of stimulating. Seriously, how are you?

—It was a shitty day. — you admit. — We played the opening game against Candlehawk. They crushed us. Then my car got crushed.

Pamela shivered.

— Candlehawk means Allie, right?

— Yeah, their new star. She gave me my button back.

Your sisters share a meaningful look.

— What? — you ask, even though you know what they’re going to say.

— She's horrible. — Pamela replies. Lying on her back on the bed. — Like, really, really horrible.

— She wasn't always horrible. Not until she transferred to Candlehawk.

— I think she was already horrible before that. — Victoria retorts. — Do you remember when she got mad when you posted that picture where her hair was frizzy?

— Remember when she didn't talk to you for a whole day because you refused to sneak into that concert with her? — Pamela adds.

That's the thing. You know Allie was difficult sometimes, but it makes you uncomfortable to hear that from other people. It makes you question your judgment, because for a while, you were so happy with her. Were you just completely oblivious to it? Or worse, did you convince yourself that she cared about you when she didn't?

— I know. — You run your hand over your face. — I promise she wasn't always this horrible.

There is a pause in which her sisters are clearly keeping their words to themselves.

— Can we watch the movie now? — you ask.

— Of course. — her sisters respond and nestle into your sides.

When you're about an hour into a movie, your cell phone rings from a number you don't recognize. You reject the call, assuming it's telemarketing.

A moment later, it rings again. Your sisters complain.

— Sorry! — you fiddle with your phone and answer it, impatiently. — Hello?

— Y/n? — a cold voice answers. — It's me, Jackie.

What the fuck.

You straighten up in bed, fumbling for the remote to pause the movie. Your sisters stare at you, but you gesture for them to be quiet. Why is this girl calling you? How did she get your number?

— Hi. — you answer on your phone, trying to sound casual. You turn on the lamp and swing your legs over to the other side of the bed. — I didn't expect you to call…

— How not? — she asks, abruptly. — We have a plan for tomorrow. You know, now that you have to give me a ride.

It takes a while for you to respond.

— Sure. — You answer, tense. — Of course. I just thought you would send a message.

— A call is more efficient.

You clear your throat, trying to stop yourself from yelling at her.

— How is your car? What did the mechanic say?

She ignores the question.

— What time will you pick me up in the morning? I usually leave at 7:25.

You're still trying to position yourself in this conversation, and it takes you a second to understand what she's asking. At 7:25? Your school is only ten minutes away, and classes start after 8:05.

— I usually leave at 7:40 — you reply in an incisive tone.

She makes an impatient noise.

— I have things to do in the morning. If I had my own car I would leave at 7:15.

— I guess you should have thought of that before you rammed into my car, huh?

There is a tense silence.

— Are you picking me up at 7:25 or not?

You grit your teeth.

— I will.

— Great. I'll text you the address.

— Great. How efficient messages are, right?

A moment passes.

— cute — she says, in the most acidic voice you've ever heard in your life. Then she hangs up.

— What the hell was that? — Pamela asks.

— She's my arch enemy. — you say it half jokingly.

— I thought your arch enemy was Allie. — Victoria says.

Pamela elbows her.

— Y/n — Pamela says, taking the remote from your hand —, I don't know what this says about me, but this drama of yours has become the most interesting thing in my life.

taglist: @moesthoughts, @javizheart, @antlertruths, @mistynatsfavourite

[chara-james-crack-corner]

Here, I'll feed y'all a little with a "What If scenario" I've been playing with for my J.J. AU fic.

Context: Tim finds out that there's a new Robin, not just Batman's biological son, but that Dick himself handed Robin to Damian. Now, he has no clue who this kid is, but Jason's even defensive of him, insists he's a good kid and that they can't control what the Bats do. He says to leave Damian alone, so Tim does, and instead confronts Dick...

(Fun fact: There was originally an idea where the Titans Tower incident still happens where Tim, after dawning the Spoiler name as a mantle following Stephanie's break to be pregnant and all that jazz so he could troll the Bats. Anyways, Tim was meant to attack Damian at the tower! :D)

The rain made his hair all frizzy, the warmth that burnt in his core clashed terribly with the summer night of Gotham where droplets of rain splashed audibly at a steady rhythm to match the beat of the earth that synchronized beside the thumping of Tim's heart as he stood supposedly solo against the dark cover of night. He wasn't naïve, neither was Dick, they were both aware of the others presence, it was simply a dare to the other, who'd reveal themself first?

Tim, apparently, because he had no patience and his fingers were fidgety and he'd left his flamethrower at the apartment.

Tim: You took Robin from me.

It was said numbly, for some odd reason that's all Tim had in him as far as tones and volumes went, at first. At first it was hurting and ached then rose to accusations as he flips out his shaky red pistol to fiddle with the trigger— It was empty, Jason didn't let him have bullets unsupervised anymore—

Tim: YOU ABANDONED ME! AND TOOK IT! FROM ME! I was... I was a good Robin, I was a great Robin, you said so! Why replace me!? I was good, you said I was good!

His voice was wobbly, free hand now burying into his hair to yank at his scalp till tears stung at the corners of his vision, the action finally drawing out Dick, Nightwing more specifically, looming and tall with pain in his own expression as if he hadn't caused Tim all of his in this very moment! He practises the breaths Leslie taught him, not Bruce's because Bruce's made it worse so he practiced the ones Leslie taught him that Jason's helped him perfect, because Dick didn't! He didn't...

Dick: T... Tim—

He always stuttered, like he was naming someone that died, like he wasn't Tim, but he says it with so much hurt, self loathing, like he blamed himself for everything and knowing Dick he probably did. Does.

Dick: I know it doesn't make sense, that— that you're not Robin anymore—

Tim: I killed the Joker! I broke the rule and the vow! I know why I'm not Robin, Dick! I'm crazy now, not a child! Can't exactly be a child in Arkham...

Dick: . . . I'm sorry, Tim.

Tim: If I have to hear you or Batman or Babs say that one more time—

He tries to keep the laughter under control, twirling the gun around once just to see Dick's eyes widen and his hands twitch and feed shift like his instincts screamed to move — dodge— but refused to let himself react in such a way. Tim knew why, his brain screaming Joker, heart screaming "It's Tim!" And he himself knew the feeling, he'd looked in a mirror recently...

—

Anyways, hope you enjoyed that snippet! :D I am working on the AU, it just takes time because of other obligations, life stuff, and hobbies, and all that mess 🙏🙏🙏

[sisaloofafump]

Would you be open to expanding on your thoughts about interpreting Damian as aromantic?????

Unfortunately most of my reasonings are just "vibe" and relating to him personally. He reminds me a lot of what I was like when I was like as kid—vocally against romance, got into a lot of fights, and quick to deny any notion of attraction to someone.

There's a tendency to go "oh they have a crushhh" when preteens bicker with someone, and to double down on that accusation when they try to deny. A lot of Damian's romances rely on this "logic". Pre-crisis Damian's crush on Kara is supposedly canonical, because of this:

Superman/Batman #77

And consider how young him treats Steph who he's also implied to have a crush on. We're supposed to see that his attraction manifests as name calling and violence. That's not attraction! Why can't we take what he says at face value. What could he do more to signal that he doesn't have a crush?

While I understand this is something people do, on a personal and political level, I really disagree with this interpretation. I think it is incredibly dangerous and invalidating not to take people at face value when they say they are not attracted to someone—especially if the signs of "attraction" you see are violence. I know for me, when I was 8–10, my response to this was only to get meaner, because how else would people understand that I didn't like them? (I grew out of this long ago, I am an adult now, but I definitely see Damian taking a similarly bad approach).

So instinctively, it's very hard for me to think of Damian having a crush on someone when the only examples we have post-crisis is him actively saying he doesn't like someone.

That said! Modern Damian? I do really like Flatline and I think their arc together is well written and quite engaging! She is one of the only people in his life that treats him as an equal (the other Robins, the Titans, Rose, and Connor all look down on him in some way), and is someone who he genuinely has a lot of fun with. I think they have a great connection and a strong friendship. I don't think those traits should be taken as inherent to romance.

The concept of independence is so big with their "relationship"—their first kiss even happens in a conversation about how he wants something for himself separate from his families. Dating Niki would be the epitome of that. As such, Damian immediately tells people she's his girlfriend (checking off a box, much?). But iirc he doesn't actually initiate any romantic affection between them, and most of their scenes end with Damian switching into Work Mode immediately. He doesn't consider what being together would look like beyond the first kiss and the label.

Robin (2021) #17

"You could ask me out on a date, or something." "Is that the next move?" He says, and then proceeds not to ask her on a date.

By goly is he aromantic to me.

In summary: younger/post-crisis Damian's "crushes" rely on the reader interpreting that cruelty and denying attraction means that you like someone. Damian and Flatline's relationship reads to me as him seeking independence by labelling one of the first solo-made friendships he has, and he has very little interest or initiative in actually being romantic with Niki.

So uh. Yeah! That's about it. It was hard to put it into thoughts because it's less a conscious headcanon and more me going "what? This makes no sense" emotionally when I see him in a romantic pairing. But I hope this explains why I see him as aromantic!

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Near Death Dangers!

This week, the wizards get in trouble. Bleeding, drowning, more bleeding, mind control - it's not going well for them. What better way to bring people together? See below for nine (nein) stories that feature near-death dangers, and as always, if you like them, comment and kudos!

stars align (hearts beat in time) by Flashhwing (2823, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb comes home to find Essek in a puddle of blood.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Hold Me Close, Cut Me Deep by CatgirlTheCrazy (14192, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Why kiss your man when you could fight him while being mind controlled and then tenderly dress his wounds?

Reccer says: So good! Just a treasure trove of the best hurt/comfort feels.

love brought weight (to this heart of mine) by quinn_of_aebradore (323, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Eesek is scared for Caleb. They kiss about it.

Reccer says: It's short, but punchy.

Slip the Blindfold by timbrene (6024, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Minor graphic description of fall injury- just mind the tags.

Caleb & Essek get separated and must survive relying on each other's distant senses.

Reccer says: While the near-death is only really at the beginning, the rest of the fic is absolutely lovely in the way the two wizards rely on each other through different methods in order to survive further. Caleb being blind and having Essek be his eyes is such a fascinating and intimate concept.

The Bone That Has No Marrow by violettressed (28347, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death

In the aftermath of Echoes of the Solstice, the Nein, and Essek, deal with some difficult ramifications.

Reccer says: It's a very interesting look at simulacrum and the emotions and grief that might arise surrounding them when their creator is in a (temporary) dire situation.

(i'll track down the words if you) dig up the dead by SaltCore (4461, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek and Caleb go to great lengths to save each other

Reccer says: I like the stream of consciousness. I makes you feel what he's feeling.

Patient Zero by Moonsp1r1t (63055, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death, Biological warfare

After the Mighty Nein are done adventuring, they get ready to move onto their lives. However, when a note arrives from a stranger explaining that they are willing to trade the life of Essek in exchange for research stolen from them by the Cobalt Soul, the group needs to act.

Reccer says: Good Jesties friendship even with the temporary character death

Cold Shock by Inanerial (2946, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Essek accidentally teleports into the ocean. It doesn't go well.

Reccer says: The horror of near-drowning is captured well, as is the intimacy after.

zweisamkeit by ajaxis (41188, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek explore one of the most dangerous places in Exandria while trying to rekindle their delicate bond. A recounting of what went down in Aeor and beyond after the Mighty Nein's journey 'ended'.

Reccer says: It’s a wonderful fic!! Every chapter leaves me on the edge of my seat. The latest one was definitely one of my favorites. If you enjoy slow burn, Caleb going through it, and Essek being stressed out— This fic is for you

Want more? Check out our previous reclist from 2023!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring Lifespan Angst Solutions! Because what else is fanfic for, other than making sure there's a happily ever after?

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

For the fic prompts: #90 please.

"I'll be your alibi"

Now admittedly I cheated a little but it's still connected to the prompt, it's just not exactly included. I am not an expert so if any of this is wrong just go with it.

He's in the pub when it happens, because who doesn't love an audience when the police come calling. He's not that worried, if anything Mack and Ross have a lot more to lose, but he's the one who's newly released from prison, he's the one they're going to look at first.

The worst thing of all is John with Vic at the bar, watching. John with a small satisfied smirk that Robert would love to wipe off his face, and Vic, well she just looks disappointed.

"Robert Sugden. You're under arrest for the distribution of a class b drug. You don't have to say anything..." The words fade away as he feels the handcuffs go around his wrist. They feel tighter than he knows they actually are and his head is full of noise, shouting and metal bars. He can hear voices around him as they pass people in a blur, sure one of them is Aaron but he can't quite make it out as he's lead from the pub into the bright sunlight.

*****

He doesn't fully come back to his senses until he's in an interview room with PC Swirling in front of him and someone he doesn't know alongside him. His solicitor had just shaken his head at him when he had arrived.

"Mr Sugden, you must like the food at HMP Hotten."

"Not really. Bit bland for my taste." He shrugs trying to keep up the calm exterior he'd put on.

"Want to tell me about your involvement in all this?"

"There isn't any." I was just getting a lift home from work and we stopped at the pub and then you turned up.""

"So you know nothing about Ross Barton and Mackenzie Boyd having a large quantity of cannabis in a car that a witness says you were in yesterday afternoon?"

"Obviously not." Normally he wouldn't even say a word, would never drop a mate in it, but he knows he won't survive going back to prison. Even the police cell had been bad enough. If Ross and Mack had been stupid enough to do it then they could get out of it themselves.

"Well maybe you could tell us your whereabouts yesterday afternoon." He looked sideways at his solicitor who nods and he sighs.

"I was with someone."

"With someone? Who?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Why?"

"It's private."

"Mr Sugden. You know we can charge you and you'll just go straight back to prison while you wait to go to court. Whatever this private matter is I hope it's worth it."

"I...I was with my ex-husband." Aaron was going to kill him. They'd been trying so hard to keep it a secret, hadn't even seen each other except for those few times, not even risking the village, rather they'd booked hotels in Leeds because it was far enough away that no one would run into them.

"That's Aaron Dingle, is it?" Swirling says it with a long suffering sigh. Six years obviously hadn't dimmed his memory of their run ins.

"That's right, but I'd really rather you didn't talk to him."

"Robert." His solicitor whispered. "You're not getting out of this without him."

"Fine."

*****

A few hours he steps out of the police station and a weight lifts off him. He'd really thought that was it, even though he knew he'd done nothing wrong. Not that Mack hadn't tried to drag him into it, but he'd promised himself when he was released. Any scheming he did would be the perfectly legitimate kind.

"Oi." He squints into the sun to see Aaron leaning against his car. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Aaron...They called you then."

"Oh yeah. Great time I had explaining that one to him an' all." He looks him up and down. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just, well you know." He lets out a breath. "I thought that was it."

"I'm gonna kill Mack."

"No you're not. He's your mate. I knew what they were up to. I didn't have anything to do with it, but I didn't stop 'em. It's over."

"Yeah well, I'm still telling him."

"Fine. So, where does he think you are then?" That was always a problem, Aaron getting away from John. Frankly Robert thought the man was a touch controlling but they had rules. They didn't talk about him and any time Robert tried, Aaron just got one of his moods, so he didn't. It was easier to pretend that way.

"Emergency cash and carry run for Mum." He huffs a laugh. "Best pick up some prawn cocktail crisps on the way home just in case."

"I'm sorry. Just keep causing trouble don't I?"

"Yeah well wouldn't be you if you didn't. Come on I'll run you home." He nods, and gets in the car. He's exhausted and he's barely done anything all day.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" He asks when they're halfway home.

"Robert..."

"I know, but...I was scared Aaron. If you and me hadn't been together..."

"Yeah I know. And that's why Mackenzie and I will be having words. What was he thinking driving you about in a car full of that stuff." He slams his hand against the steering wheel.

"Thanks again, for backing me up."

"Robert, I'll always be your alibi."

[thecelestialmirror]

July 2025 Astrological Overview

This is going to be a big transitional month, with lots of energy shifting. We may, indeed, sense a bit of a start-stop cycle, which could lead to frustration. This goes on even as it seems our collective timetable is speeding up, due to all of the fire and air elements in the heavens. July looks like it's going to be interesting, and it kicks off retrograde season, too. So, let's peer at some of the major developments of the month...

On Friday 7/4, we have three large happenings... Venus in an exact conjunction with Uranus at the last degree of Taurus, Venus entering Gemini, and Neptune going retrograde in Aries. Whew! This is a BIG day! Many of us will likely be very busy tying up loose ends with our resources and value transitions. Really look into the state of your physical resources, and make sure everything is in positive arrangement. Also, time spent in reflection on what you place the highest value on, at this stage of your life, could yield surprising breakthroughs. You may have to put a pin in pursuing your dreams for a while, however... Neptune is bringing a sleepy fog to any momentum we've gained there for a while. It's ok. Use this as a time to take a break from chasing your dreams, and just drift for a bit.

Sunday 7/6 gives us Venus in Gemini sextile Saturn and Neptune in Aries. This inquiring planet of passionate pursuits is keenly interested in the structures of Saturn and blesses any work we've done to build better structures for the future. This is also a good indication that chasing dreams doesn't need to happen right now, as Venus is harmonizing with the retrograde phase that Neptune has just entered. Dreaming can come at a later date. Focus more on what physically needs to be done in your life, and tend to matters that have a strong deadline first and foremost.

Monday 7/7 is the exciting day many astrologers have been talking about, as Uranus, the Great Awakener, enters airy and intellectual Gemini! Over the next 7 years, Uranus will bring the necessary renewal, and the odd revolution(s), in the key areas of science, trade, education, esoterica, and communication. This transit will keenly affect the intellect in both ego-driven ways and higher-minded perspectives. Of course, this is just a sneak preview of this transit, a pilot episode, if you will, as Uranus will retrograde back into Taurus in November 2025.

The annual Capricorn Full Moon arrives on Thursday 7/10, and like all Full Moons it has an opposition with the Sun in the sign directly across from it, on the Zodiacal Wheel. Cancer Sun shines a light on what it is we want to build (Capricorn) in our lives now, from which we can derive emotional fulfillment (Moon). Capricorn is a Saturn-ruled sign, so the building that needs to take place will have a focus on the long-term and on practicality. We need to do this for ourselves and do it the right way. Also, on this day, the continuing Neptune-Pluto sextile goes exact, and ramps up the need for deep change, dissolution, and revolution... but it brings forth a harmony, too, as we create the adjustments that are needed in our overall lifestyles and path choices. We will experience Saturn sextile Pluto and Uranus, too, supporting our changes in extensive and surprising ways.

Sunday 7/13 is the day Saturn begins retrograde motion, moving backwards through Aries and towards Pisces once more. We review now what we've built thus far on our journeys during the first half of the year, and contemplate how close we've come to hitting our goals. What have we learned in the process? What could we do better? What surprised us the most about how much we've changed lately? All good questions to meditate on...

On Thursday 7/17, Saturn and Neptune make an exact conjunction in fiery and innovative Aries, but both planets do so during their retrograde periods. Dreams become incredibly hazy and structures seem lackluster. All of the forward progress gets put on hold now. It's not so much that anything is wrong with our plans, per say. This is just a time to pause all of those pursuits and focus on self-care and self-improvement. The momentum becomes more yin and turns inward.

Friday 7/18 is the Mercury retrograde occurring in the confident and feisty sign of Leo. Mercury in Leo is a very vibrant Mercury indeed. It is one that speaks with the rawness of the true self... but during the retrograde time-frame (July 17th through August 11th), this Mercury will need a tactful filter. We must be more careful with our words, as it is very easy to become selfish and bruise the feelings of others. We could deeply wound those we love the most. Keep an eye on the details of your plannings and communications, until the retrograde has passed.

Leo Season begins on Tuesday 7/22, as the Sun moves out of Cancer and into its home sign of Leo the Lion! Happy Leo Season to one and all!!! Let your love light shine out to those you hold dear...

Thursday 7/24 brings us the annual Leo New Moon, in the early degrees of the sign. This New Moon awakens the wild cat within all of us. We suddenly see what's truly in our hearts, and we open to self-expression in bold ways (but be careful... remember Mercury is retrograde in this sign now, too). This particular New Moon (with the Sun and Moon conjunct and opposing retrograde Pluto in Aquarius) wants to help you get to know yourself well enough, deep enough, to ask for all that you deserve!

Venus leaves Gemini and enters compassionate and nurturing Cancer on Thursday 7/31, as the Sun and Mercury make an exact conjunction in Leo (known as Mercury Cazimi). The Mercury Cazimi, meaning "in the heart of the Sun," brings us halfway through the Mercury retrograde. It is at this point in time that we can begin resolving any issues the first half of the retrograde brought up. Venus in Cancer cares for our sore spots and eases our discomforts. This is yet another round of healing being brought forth, after the rough stuff from the first half of 2025. Let yourself heal...

[kazzsbrekker]

things i liked and didn't like about tog2 under the cut (after watching the movie once, this morning)

what i liked

the opening action scene! reminiscent of the comics, great character moments and dynamics, especially joe and nicky being silly, nile being badass on the boat, copley being part of the team

joe and nicky in general; they got to be their own characters and be in disagreement but they were also sweet and flirty and worked together in sync and affirm their bond for us

nicky's very pronounced italian accent

tuah as an addition to the team! he had good chemistry with the characters and i like the idea of an archivist immortal

nile being a badass. she got her own new weapon and looked hot doing it. AND she got to do the sao paolo 1834 move

quynh my love. my queen who has suffered more than jesus. fantastic portrayal by veronica ngo (shoutout to the breathing sound in the boat scene before they open the iron maiden)

"what if she doesn't recognize me" / "what if i don't recognize her"

immortal wives. could mention every moment between them, they mean so much to me. and now they're a unit again and it felt fitting despite their changed dynamic and history

in general, a lot of introspective and emotional andy moments i enjoyed, also her conversation with booker was beautiful. and her finally admitting she can't go first hit me hard

fight choreography was solid and really fun, nile's new weapon, andy's axe of course, especially joe kicking a guy onto nicky's sword like,, get it

that scene of andy walking through rome. CHILLS. she's so old and has seen so much and that was a gorgeous representation of that, especially when it culminated in quynh waiting for her there

what i didn't like

the new lore. none of that shit made sense and it didn't even line up with the first movie. i don't mind that it departed from the comics but i feel like there was some mamma mia 2 level of gaslighting when they told us andy lost her immortality when nile stabbed her. SHE HEALED FROM THAT. she stopped healing after the church fight scene, THAT'S when she was stabbed in the shoulder (again). and considering that in the case of booker and quynh, the wound not closing was instantaneous, it just doesn't add up. then the whole thing about the last immortal. i like nile being important and special, that's my girl, but discord was an awful addition to this cast of characters (as was to be expected) and none of her lore drops were adequately explained or made sense in the movie. maybe i need to rewatch but idk how they transferral of the immortality worked

that brings me to the dreaming (basically same complaint as above but it was getting too long). i'm trying to explain all this through nile not dreaming about discord because she's mortal now and only dreaming about tuah when he got stabbed because she only notices/realizes that's it's an Immortal Dream when something traumatic happens (such as quynh drowning) but it doesn't add up with none of the others knowing about discord and tuah for centuries.

everything about discord. fuck off. quynh should have been the main and only antagonist and we don't need uma thurman with unclear motives

0 emotional resonance in the third act. none of that hit i can't even put my finger on it but it just felt unearned. even the setup with the joenicky conversation didn't sell me on the weight of it. boring setting for the climax that has no relevance to the characters. i love these characters deeply and have thought about them every day for 5 years, i should feel more when they are in danger and when they.well

BOOKER DYING. a character death can feel earned and make sense even when it's sad. but this was just bullshit. suicidal character finds a way to kill himself yay! hope he and quentin coldwater reunite in the heaven of done dirty sacrificial depressed characters

cliffhanger. you can't do a movie like that and then bank on a sequel, you just can't. not with the production delays and keeping everyone waiting for 5 years. we're not going to get a third movie, i know netflix. they should have given us a real ending with potential for more

nile was underused as hell. sure she got the last immortal title but we deserved more of the literal protagonist. how does she feel at being 6 months immortal. how does she feel about her family. how does she feel about whatever discord is talking about. how does she feel about anything

the camera work. i'm not sold on all those shaky little zooms. it doesn't fit the mood of the film imo. also the cgi in the boat scene was uhhhh questionable

conclusion

not good. still love the characters and i loved seeing them again but i wish it was under better circumstances. and i assume that i won't get more. justice for my immortal family

[iamespecter]

Ziku, have you ever thought about redesigning the old designs for your Bendy and the Ink Machine?I think I remember you mentioning that you used to like that franchise.

This old thing?

Ngl, I do think about it from time to time, but with the state Bendy is in, I don't wanna touch the franchise as much as possible.

WARNING: VERY LONG READ!!! Because I got sidetracked and started yapping with my issues of Bendy's writing, and why I'm no longer a fan of the franchise

The damage chapter 5's ending did was irrepairable to me as a former fan, I could NOT imagine a bigger fumble of an ending because you didn't like the fans guessing the plot from all the way to early Chapter 1. Which, isn't necessarily a bad thing in the first place. In fact, you could use it to your advantage. But no, they didn't.

Even The Dark Revival and some fans tries to justify the excuses by saying "oh, people are just unhappy that Joey isn't the Ink Demon"- WRONG. It's the fact that we felt ROBBED of a proper ending that actually makes sense. A SWEET, DELECTABLE REWARD for sticking by the story, connecting the dots and doing all that detective work for the story YOU WERE INITIALLY TRYING TO TELL, until the very end.

But no, we got uhhh.... Ink Demon dying because he cringed at his cartoon's ending and apparently, everything is a cycle oooo!!!!!! Which makes the ending feel like a giant retcon slap to the face.

And no, the sequel explaining everything does NOT justify all that. When you do a game, you finish things off with a neat little bow that can be explained WITHIN that game's frame. ESPECIALLY since this is an episodic release.

It's not just an ending that I am mad with for "no reason", it's a VERY HUGE writing issue that feels cheated. When you make a story, no matter how much the audience predicts your ending, you HAVE to stick with your guns. The biggest mistake you can do as a writer is scamming the audience of your original plot so you don't come off as 'predictable'.

Because first of all, WHEN has there been ever a mention or a CLUE of a cycle existing during chapters 1-4??? NADA. NONE. It all starts when Chapter 5 comes with the magic mirror or some shit and revamps the other chapters with additional content. This mirror starts to crack THE WHOLE PLOT and reduces it to a jumbled mess because it heavily implies the cycle has already taken place multiple times, so you can't even justify the entire thing not having mentions of a cycle as "the beginning" of it because it just ISN'T. Which already is a bad, BAD look.

The letter Joey sends doesn't even feel relevant anymore, when we are shown in Chapter 5's ending that "Henry" is in Joey's home, and Joey just repeats the letter's contents. So what fucking use is the letter now then?? Why does it still exist, only for Joey to repeat what the instructions say on the letter, only this time it's right to "Henry"'s face?? It just doesn't make sense!! And apparently, "Henry" isn't even a real person!! He's a fucking ink creature completely made up by Joey's book!!! That's a fucking pocket dimension!!!! And the only clue we have of THAT is him fucking eating ink bacon soup and maybe bleeding black ink on screen when hurt.

I honestly preferred the idea that Henry was slowly turning into an ink human the more he comes into contact with the Ink. That one had really HORRIFIC implications befit of a horror game, yet remained consistent and simple.

This writing issue becomes more apparent with Chapter 5's final boss fight: 'The End' tape.

Yes, the chapters show us that Ink Bendy is "invincible". He's untouchable. The studio was his playground, and everyone is his plaything. And while they certainly tried to give a way for the player to defeat and end the Ink Demon's reign by showing him his "ending" tape, the whole concept was sooooo undercooked and didn't feel like a proper "vanquishing the great evil". It didn't feel like it belonged there at all, because it felt like a last minute addition. There was no meaningful build up to what could defeat the Ink Demon, unless you count the fact that Ink Bendy stole the tape.

Which is in Chapter 5.

The reveal of Ink Bendy NOT being anyone but a disfigured toon was also horribly done. There was no misdirection that would make us think, "Oh, that plot twist makes so much sense actually!!!", if we ignore EVERYTHING THAT CAME OUT AFTER. The flashback of the "demonic ritual" shows us three images specifically;

A wheelchair.

The Ink Machine

Ink Bendy himself.

Which of course, now just means jack shit because the story was changed. When before, the wheelchair meant someone was gravely injured. Since the flashing images take place on a pentagram, it can be assumed that someone had made a deal they shouldn't have, with the Ink Machine's help. Thus, turning them into Ink Bendy. Because Ink Bendy walks with a limp, and his leg appears to be mangled.

There was a lot of commotion back in the day on who could be the Ink Demon. Most thought it was Joey because there was a loooooot of evidence to back it up. But I do remember some people saying that it could also not be Joey, but another person in the studio.

Instead of rewarding these observations, we were punched with the book explanation of "Ink Bendy doesn't have a soul, that's why he looks that way. And he was treated horribly and locked up, so he fought back... and became sadistic. His leg is the way it is because he got injured by one of the employees" when the same book implies that he's able to regenerate mass to heal which is why he's invulnerable. Oh my god.

Speaking of which, DO NOT WRITE BOOKS IN ORDER TO EXPLAIN IN-GAME LORE SHIT. DO NOT GO DOWN THE SCOTT CAWTHON ROUTE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. I HATE THAT THIS EVEN BECAME A MEDIUM TO EXPLAIN IN-GAME LORE. IT SUCKS ASS.

I'd like to mention that Sammy Lawrence coming back on Chapter 5 did shock me (in a good way) though, and his return works and actually makes sense because in chapter 2, we've already been given enough information that ink beings can manifest themselves again, and Chapter 3 strengthens this via Susie/Alice Angel's exposition of the Boris hearts. Henry returning back from the dead also solidified this. To the point that I can't even tell if his return was fanservice, or he was actually planned to return in some way (WHICH IS A REALLY GOOD THING). It's also why, I think the first three chapters pre-everything are the strongest, in terms of story consistency. Chapter 4 is when it starts going downhill, and Chapter 5 is when it alllll comes crashing down and bursting into flames.

And don't get me started on chapter 4's #Saveboris hashtag. God, that was a clusterfuck of marketing. I get it, you're trying to lift people's hopes up and wanting to crush it for shock value, but god man. This is just NOT how you divert audience expectations... Brute Boris already being dead and forced to fight you was such a cheap tug at your heartstrings the more I look back on it. You wanna know how to lift audience hopes up of saving their friend, only to get betrayed? LOOK AT LITTLE NIGHTMARES' LAST CHAPTER. THAT'S how you do a proper audience betrayal that genuinely feels earned, and not just cemented, but EMBEDDED to the story.

Six caring for Mono in little ways that she cares enough to PULL him out of the trance he's in when he's trying to reach the door, when he lets out the Thin Man, the little concerned reach Six does when Thin Man is about to get out of the TV, and her reaching out to Mono when she's about to get captured....

Then in the Signal tower, when she EAGERLY shares with you her music box, responds to your calls even when she can't recognize you.... The shrieks of pain from her everytime you hit the music box and her body slowly becoming smaller and smaller as each joints snap back to normal.... Have you ever wondered why werewolf medias showcase the guy screaming during transformations? It's because it hurts to change, when you're being mangled from the inside out.

THAT is what made the betrayal of when Six finally drops Mono for the first time-- when she has caught his hand SO MANY TIMES before-- so heart-wrenching. So gut-punching. And very much justifies the betrayal's existence.

Meanwhile what BATIM does is make Alice Angel say "oh Henryyyyy come save your friend he's not doing so hot" and literally. nothing. else.

Bendy TRIES to make you THINK it has foreshadowing. That it was two steps ahead. But really, it has just about as much evidence as "Dude, trust me". This whole game taking place in Joey Drew's toxic yaoi fanfiction makes things WORSE and actively removes the horror content almost entirely like, what do you fucking MEAN that none of this matters anyways because who we're playing as is not even a real person. WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEANNNNN ALL THOSE CHAPTERS OF BUILDING TENSION AND HORRIFIC REAL WORLD IMPLICATIONS WERE FOR SHIT.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN JOEY DREW GOT A MERE SLAP ON THE WRIST FOR ALL THE THINGS HE'S DONE TO BUILD THE BENDY EMPIRE!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE GOT TO RETIRE AND START WRITING HIS TOXIC YAOI BOOK TO TORTURE A FICTIONAL VERSION OF HIS FRIEND THAT LIVES RENT FREE ON HIS HEAD!! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE EMPLOYEES WHOSE SOULS WERE SACRIFICED TO THE INK MACHINE TO PRODUCE TOONS THEN!!!! ARE THEY ACTUALLY PEOPLE, OR WERE THEY JUST FANFIC CHARACTERS TO TORTURE FANFIC HENRY!!!!

God, this whole thing is.... it's just a fucking mess that I don't even wanna touch it. It strayed SO FAR from it's original concept and kept expanding, and expanding, and expanding, until it all became too bloated and exploded; sending splotches of ink stains everywhere.

I remember seeing Chapter 4 and thinking, "Huh, chapter 4 felt kinda... meh. But I'm sure Chapter 5 will pay off the weird vibes Chapter 4 had, so I'll be happy with this!", and then come Chapter 5, and I was like, "That ending felt like it was shoehorned in and feels incomplete/rushed, but people seem to like it so I'll just go along with the mob"

(which is the major reason WHY I don't typically like hype trains and trends nowadays. Also 2019 me is cringe for that but she is traumatized so)

BATDR could've also been something amazing, but it really just falls flat on it's face for reasons I've stated below. I've said it once and I'll say it again: BENDY IS NOT HOW YOU DO A RED HERRING STORY.

The Dark Revival works as a solo project on it's own, I can see it's potential; but because it directly TRIES to cover everything up and pretend everything was planned from the start to make it seem like they're amazing writers ooooo (and not pull a Scott Cawthon), you can't ignore the glaring issues the writing presents. Especially when Bendy is known for "revamping" old chapters with new, never seen/implied before content, to match each new chapter released.

It's very obvious that shit was made up on the fly with the first game of the franchise, each chapter released is a bait to get fans engaged and theorizing, but they were making shit up as they go. Improvising with the script and remaking old chapters.

Although, I can give them props for certainly trying and releasing the second game with ALL 5 chapters, instead of doing nothing. Trying to cover up the plot holes with revamps and rewrites is something that a writer should be capable of, but it's one that's unfixable due to the track record of the devs and the history of changes they've done to their game.

And for that, I can never look at it the same way ever again, and it sucks because I saw this thing from it's humble beginnings, to.... this.

... Where was I going with this? Oh, right. Uhhh

I'm not gonna do an AU design revamp UNLESS I have to rewrite the story myself because I reallllllyyy don't like the direction Bendy took.

(despite the lengthy post, I actually feel like I haven't explained EVERYTHING yet. But my PC is already lagging super fucking hard as I type this because it's too long so I'll just end it there)

[venelona]

hey, I saw a post on your acc about Tenna ghost being updated. can we know what exactly is new so we can report it if it doesn't work?

I fixed a couple of typos but most apparent thing is this menu

Pre-update it would only show my Tumblr link which didn't work

If your upper menu option doesn't look like that and when updating Tenna says there's no updates, then I did something wrong with coding which would be great to fix right away since any future reinstalling will wipe his memories 👏

Your prayers have been heard, I'll add POINTS and relationship progression 👍

can i be reincarnated as a human tho?.. or at least a handsome TV.........

I don't mind anyone editing Tenna for themselves if you have the knowledge (some people like to add more dialogue lines referencing their OCs and stuff), just don't distribute that version of him as if I made those changes

I think there is a plugin you can install separately that would let you see forecast (Stormbringer is a ghost that's built with accommodating that), so it is possible...

Though I don't believe Tenna could ever give specific movie recommendations. He is not an AI, he can't produce any information by himself. So unless I write his dialogue to recommend random movie names I put in myself there's no way to make that happen.

He CAN have different costumes (shells), but that would require a redraw version of his every sprite. I do not want to do that (I've been thinking about giving him a tail to wag even if it doesn't make sense because tail waggling enhances any ghost imo), but I will accept and credit someone else making a shell for him if they want to 👍

@claracatte I doooon't think I can give him his 'voice' sound for every line, but I can give him cartoony sounds he says for flavor text words he has. I didn't write a lot of flavor text words because I didn't have time to flavor them but I planned on adding/editing them in the future ✨