#and like obviously this is not something you can control all the time

[flightyalrighty]

Hey you got an advices for a newbie who thinks about doing commissions? :>

And did you have any bad experiences? (You don't have to answer if it is too private)

I won't go into detail for any bad commission experiences, but I can at least tell you what I learned from em in the form of the advice you asked for:

PRICING! When figuring out pricing, ask yourself the following:

What is an hour of my work worth? This question helps you avoid underselling yourself aka selling under minimum wage. You're definitely worth more than that. $20 is a pretty good starting point for folks who aren't too confident in their own stuff.

How long does it take to complete an art piece? Create one sample of every type of commission you want to sell. Time yourself when you make them. Whatever amount of time it takes to create each piece multiplied by the hourly wage you've set for yourself is going to be your base price for each thing ($20 x 2 hours for a full body sketch = $40). You can also use the samples you've made to help advertise in your commission post and show your potential clients what it is they can expect from you!

How should I charge for add-ons? Once again, figure how long something takes, and shoot for something that seems both fair for you and the client. For extra characters or something like a background, for example, I charge an extra 50% of the base price.

PROBLEMATIC CLIENTS! Got a client that doesn't know what they actually want? Too wishy washy? Too nitpicky? There's a solution! Offer a limited amount of revisions. I offer two free ones, personally. Once the client is out of revisions, I charge them 20% for each additional revision, and I MAKE SURE THEY CAN SEE THAT ON THE FORM THEY FILL OUT. That way, clients are encouraged to get their WHOLE idea in order before going to you. No one wants to be charged extra for a mistake they made, after all -- And it's definitely their mistake if they leave out any details they later deem important and want you to fix.

THE AFOREMENTIONED FORM TO BE FILLED! I used Google Forms, personally. It makes your little business look a bit more professional AND it helps you keep track of multiple projects at once, while prompting the clients to give you the info you specifically need (like reference images). It's good!

BE PROFESSIONAL! You're more likely to get repeat customers if you maintain a professional customer service attitude while handling clients, and deliver your work as promptly as you can. Delivering work PROMPTLY is definitely something you need to imagine me circling and underlining. Please do your best to not take, like, a year? To complete a commission? It's a really bad look. Treat it like homework. Give yourself your own little due date to work with.

While we're on that! DEFINITELY send your clients WIPs while you work! Showing that you're making progress is a great way to get feedback from the client before it's too late to change anything, PLUS it keeps their mind at ease about the possibility of you potentially taking their money and running.

KEEP YOURSELF SAFE! Speaking of taking money and running, set up a system that works when it comes to charging clients and delivering the goods. I have been burned in the past and have learned from this. Some artists charge their clients upfront before delivering anything at all. Personally, I'm not a fan of this, because then it leaves the client open to feeling uneasy about possibly getting scammed. Obviously I'm not a scammer, but to lift the weight of that possibility on the minds of my clients, I charge half upfront and half upon completion. This way, I already have SOME money so the client isn't gonna "dine-and-dash" me, and the client, likewise, is holding the other half of the pay in a friendly self-imposed hostage situation. I do recommend this!

I also use Paypal to INVOICE my clients. This way, I have full control over the nature of what I'm charging and can avoid the client accidentally (or maliciously) sending a payment with something in there meant to get my Paypal account shut down. DO NOT WRITE JOKES ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE CHARGING YOUR CLIENT FOR. DO NOT GET YOURSELF IN TROUBLE FOR SOMETHING STUPID.

And this is all the advice I currently have on me! I hope it helps!

[lay-z]

I'm in a ✨️ mood ✨️ This is for you @bloodytalefeathers :)

Synopsis: When life gets rough, you forget about your "soft era", and tend to fall back into your toxic traits and coping mechanisms; feigning toughness and hyper-independence until you can crumble and break comfortably behind closed doors. Only nowadays, your loving boyfriend can read the signs and intervene before things can get out of hand.

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: MDNI 18+ | established romantic relationship; soft!dom!Keegan; lots of comfort; some angst; tw: eating disorder; FLUFF; dirty talk/cussing; fingering; squirting; overstimulation; two idiots in love

Keegan smirks to himself when the sound of you dropping your keys at the front door reaches his trained ears, followed by the door slamming shut, your exasperated sigh and grumbled curses.

There is no malice behind his quiet snicker; he's simply happy that you're finally home, and he can’t see you yet, but he can already pick up on the mood you’re in by simply listening.

He can easily hear it in the pitch of your voice, which cuss words you're using and the way you stomp your feet as you walk.

And he watches wordlessly from his spot on the couch, PS5 controller in hand and an ice-cold beer on the coffee table, as you drag yourself across the open spaced living room, uttering a half-assed "Hey, baby." to him before disappearing down the other hallway towards your shared bedroom ‒ barely sparing him a glance nor telling him to use a coaster under the bottle for the umpteenth time, like you usually would. 

The former Marine is almost offended by the lack of attention from you; always craving it like the good ol' devil dog he is, though he lets you get away with it ‒ for now, at least. 

His dark brows furrow, eyes flickering down at the table before he grabs one of said coasters anyway, the one with the comic ghost print, just to be safe the next time you come by the living room. Surely, you'll ask him about his day on duty soon, like you always do, and then he'll ask you about yours, working at the office at HQ here on base, and you'll tell him all about it while you curl up next to him on the couch before watching him play for a while.

You don't come back, though.

And when Keegan finally glances at his watch, it's been way over an hour since you came home from work, and he's starting to get suspicious. Hesh, Logan, and Kick keep yapping in the PS party, talking shit over their respective headsets as they play, though their voices merely become background noise to Keegan as his attention begins to shift to more important matters. 

Namely, you. 

Where are his kisses? Why haven't you bitten him randomly yet? Are you mad at him for being away most of the week without proper communication? You're not on your period; he has memorized your cycle by now. Are you pissed off, because he's playing video games right now? But you've never complained about that before, you're a gamer yourself after all, and if there is something that pisses you off, you’d let him now. 

His mind begins to wander and spiral, as it does sometimes when he's getting unsure of something (especially when it comes to you), and before things can escalate, he mentally chides himself and bids a hasty goodbye to his friends and teammates, and before they can even start to protest his early departure, he’s turning off the console. 

Something is obviously up with his sweetheart and he's more than determined to figure out what it is. 

Meanwhile, you’re inside the ensuite bathroom of the master bedroom. You’ve finally stripped off your tight pencil skirt that has been pushing into your stomach uncomfortably, and the confining blouse that has been tucked into the waistband, along with it. The pair of tights which seam has been chafing between your inner thighs all day, finally comes to rest in the small trash bin next to the bathroom sink, and same goes for the bra which wire has been digging into your flesh after breaking through the fabric, leaving your skin all sore and tender below your breasts. 

You’ve barely slept all week, barely eaten anything too, except drinking copious amounts of coffee; work has kicked your ass thoroughly and the death of one of the operators – a young, good man KIA – from a task force you’ve been working closely with for the past months, has left you in a state of shock that you didn’t even have the chance to deal with properly yet. 

Needless to say, your life has been a proper shit show and on top of it all, Keegan has been just as busy, if not busier, which has left you feeling even more needy and vulnerable this week. Seeing him finally being able to unwind on the couch when you came home, only made you realize that you can’t possibly bother him with your pathetic clinginess tonight, so you simply kept on walking, determined to hide your misery for a little while longer. 

Just a little longer. That’s what you keep telling yourself. Just a little longer and things will surely get better. Even though you’re not actively doing anything to make it better, no. In fact, you’ve been slipping back into old habits, toxic coping mechanisms, that either hurt your body or your soul. Sometimes both. It’s not good, but it is what it is. 

It has worked out in the past. That’s good enough to you. It must be. 

Eventually, you manage to step into the shower to try and get rid of some tension in your body and that nagging, piercing headache in the front of your skull that’s been bothering you for days now, though to little avail. It’s still there after the steaming shower you take, but it has somehow simmered down to a dull throb now as you towel off and slip on one of Keegan’s old USMC shirts along with a clean pair of cotton panties. 

Just when Keegan is about to get up from the couch to look for you, his ears pick up the sound of your bare feet coming down the hallway, cutely padding along the hardwood floor. 

His chest constricts tightly, fluttering with sweltering affection, when you finally come into view again, wearing one of his old shirts, the dark fabric a bit too baggy on you, with nothing but some panties underneath. He can see that you’re not wearing a bra and he tries to ignore the way his cock twitches with interest inside his boxer briefs to focus on your well-being instead, but – shit – you always look too good in his clothes to not acknowledge and appreciate it at least briefly. 

However, the look you shoot in his direction, standing a few feet away from him, shuffling on the spot a little as you play with the hem of his your shirt, is downright heartbreaking to him. 

You look like a tiny, lost and drenched kitten that has been left outside in the freezing cold. It reminds him of the beginning of your relationship, when he had worked hard for your trust and honesty. Back when he had to coax you to open up to him; cooing and coddling and pampering you until you felt safe and comfortable enough to let yourself be vulnerable in his presence. 

Now, though, now Keegan can read you better than the palm of his own hand. One good glance at your beautiful face and he knows that you’re not okay, if not physically then mentally, and he suddenly feels his stomach tighten with guilt and self-loathing for not noticing it sooner. 

The corners of your mouth are pulling downward with a quivering bottom lip, chin wobbling as you try to keep your emotions in check in front of him like the little control freak you are, eyes glossy and bright and your eyebrows pinched in a sad frown. 

Keegan knows the answer, but he decides to ask anyway. “You okay there?” 

As soon as your eyes meet his pretty pale blue gaze, you see his usually stoic expression soften, his toned body shifting as he sits up straighter on the couch, and you can feel your throat tighten as you try to swallow around the tight lump forming in it. When his question registers, you shake your head slowly, huffing a small breath through your nose as the dam, still holding back the myriads of negative emotions, finally begins to crack under the ongoing pressure. 

Keegan feels an immediate need to pull you into his arms as soon as he watches you shaking your head. He wants to make you curl up on his lap and let him take care of you the way you obviously need him to, but he stays seated as one of his legs starts bouncing restlessly, waiting on you to make the first move once you’re ready. 

His resolve doesn’t last long, though. 

“C’mere, baby.” He orders then, holding out his arms to beckon you over as soon as he sees a tear brim past your waterline and run down your cheek. At this point, he’s more than ready to simply snatch you up if you don’t comply. 

But then, your bare feet pad over the floor again as you swiftly approach, rounding the coffee table to practically fling yourself into his strong, welcoming arms, making him huff out a muffled oof! as he sinks deeper into the couch cushions with the impact of your added weight. 

Keegan’s hands settle on your hips as you crawl onto his lap, straddling him. Your weak arms come up to wrap around his neck while you bury and hide your face against the curve of his shoulder, and Keegan lets out a soft, pleased rumble when you cling on to him. His respond is immediate, and he wraps his strong arms around your midriff, hugging you even closer to his body.  

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your damp hair, inhaling your comforting scent deeply as he slowly rubs your back with his right hand while the left strokes up and down the side of your bare thigh soothingly. “Why are you shaking, sweetheart? What happened? C’mon, talk to me, please.” 

Keegan can feel your tears soak through his shirt as you bury your face deeper into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and when the sound of your suppressed sobs and snivels reaches his ears, there’s a sharp sting in his chest before his own vision nearly blurs with tears, too. 

Missed you. He missed you. God, you’d missed him, too, but then again, Keegan can sit right next to you, and you’d miss him. 

“I–I can’t–I just... I need you.” You manage to croak out while your fingers twist and stretch the fabric of his shirt on your fists, desperate to keep him close, scared he might disappear if you loosen your grasp. 

“Need me,” Keegan repeats in a rough whisper while his mind races, trying to come up with the right way to handle this. Need me. Fuck, but he needs you, too. “How exactly do you need me?” He asks eventually, left hand coming up to gently massage the nape of your neck until you let him tilt your head back enough to catch another glimpse of your face. 

Your eyes are red-rimmed, glossy, pupils blown and surrounded by broken blood vessels. Your lips look dry, your skin lacking your natural glow, and a sinking feeling settles deep in his gut as he realizes how sickly you look. Neglected. Weak. How did he not notice sooner? 

His fingers tighten their hold, his thumb pressing deeper into your neck to check your fluttering pulse, making sure you’re still with him, still alive. “Sweetheart–” 

He watches your eyes flutter, blinking away tears as you exhale a shuddering breath. “Please,” you rasp softly, swallowing thickly as you gather all your courage to speak your next words, even though your mind, those damn insecurities, are cursing at you not to, “–just kiss me.” 

His breathing picks up, along with his heartrate. You can practically watch his pupils dilate at once, pale blue turning a dark shade of grey while his blood rushes south almost instantly at the desperate sound of your voice. And that you can feel, too. The way his cock begins to stir and harden underneath you between your spread thighs while his fingers continue to massage the nape of your neck, slowly managing to get you to relax, like a kitten being scruffed into submission. 

The only warning is an imperceptible nod, a quick swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip while his arm around your midriff tightens, before Keegan surges forward to capture your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. 

You're not quite sure how much time has passed at this point, but some random movie is still playing on TV, illuminating the living room this late in the evening, while you've been reduced to a quaking, panting, shivering mess, still seated on Keegan's lap. 

He’s stripped you bare, switched your position to have your back flush against his chest before coaxing four orgasms from you with practiced ease. Then again, pushing you over the edge quickly has never been a challenge for Keegan, quite the opposite.  

Now, your mind has shut off; your body finally pliant and lax after stopping your initial protest to let Keegan do this, give this, to you. You’ve asked for it, after all, and now your headache is practically gone, and you feel blissfully warm, safe, and soft in his embrace.  

With your thighs nicely spread apart and draped over his knees, Keegan keeps alternating between rubbing your puffy little clit and pumping two, sometimes three thick fingers into your sopping cunt, curling them deliciously while he toys and gropes your tender breasts with his free hand, rolling and pinching your hard nipples between calloused fingertips until you can’t do anything but mewl and squirm helplessly in his grip.  

His cock is aching; throbbing and straining inside his boxer briefs as your sweet ass keeps grinding against his bulge involuntarily, but he's locked in on your pleasure above all right now. 

"Are you feeling any better yet, hm? I'm gonna take care of you all night long, my love. Y'know I will." 

"Always such a good fuckin’ girl f’me. Makin’ quite the mess here, hm? Not messy enough, though." He murmurs hotly just below your ear, the proud smirk audible in his voice before he nips at your flushed skin and feels your pussy clench around his fingers; soaking his whole hand, dripping down onto his sweatpants and the dark leather couch.

"Don't you think that I can't tell ya didn't take good care of yourself these past few days," he mutters accusingly before giving your pussy a few gentle slaps with his flat palm, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you; the obscene, wet sounds and your uncharacteristic moan making your face heat up profoundly. "Dehydration is pretty dangerous, baby, and I know you didn't drink nearly enough water."

Of course, the little shit can tell, but you're close again already, so the realization gets pushed into the back of your mind, because Keegan is thrilled to coax more of those sweet sounds from your lips. 

You nod slowly, borderline non-committedly. “Mhmm,” you hum with your eyes half-lidded, nails digging deeper into his clothed, thick thighs for leverage; some way to keep you anchored to reality as he rubs your clit in tight circles, coaxing you towards the edge again.

“Promise that you’ll stop hiding from me when you’re feeling like this,” he demands roughly, lips lightly brushing over the side of your neck as he speaks before he licks his flat tongue over your pulse point. 

“Promise me. Say it.” He growls this time, teeth grazing the curve of your shoulder as his hot breath pants over your skin, pruned fingers still not stopping their ministrations as you buck your hips with a whine, trying to squirm away on his lap.

You try to keep your noises at bay, but the added sensation of his warm tongue on your sensitive skin makes you shudder, and before you know it, you’re climaxing again; squeezing your eyes shut and gritting your teeth, chest heaving with panting breaths while your cunt clenches around nothing and your whole body twitches and writhes while another wave of pleasure wrecks through your body, though only the tiniest bit of wetness squirts and dribbles over his calloused hand this time.

Yes, you might be dehydrated, indeed.

“F-Fuck–I ah pr-omise, sir!” You cry out, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes once more, though this time it’s the overwhelming pleasure and stimulation bringing you to tears, along with the way your man is currently taking care of you. 

And you could swear you can feel his cock swell even harder against your rear when you call him 'sir'.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he coos huskily, peppering kisses between your shoulder blades and up to your nape as he kneads and gropes your trembling thighs, finally giving you a break. “You’re mine, I love you, and I need you to let me look after you, ya hear me?” 

Your head lolls back, resting against his shoulder as you nod meekly, butterflies going rogue in your tummy. “I hear you.” You rasp, too exhausted to be bratty and resist, slumping even more against his chest while his arms come up to wrap around you like corded steel, keeping you steady and safe. 

"Good." He mutters against your temple, nuzzling his nose into your hair and taking dramatic little sniffs like some mutt before pulling back and nipping your earlobe, making you hiss.

"Ow! What's that for?" You whine dramatically, speech slightly slurred by fatigue and bliss while you don't even bother to wiggle free from his embrace.

The pout in his deep voice is more than evident when he replies: "Didn't even say I love you back, sweetheart."

[missypanther]

Power levels

I took this video, like I could have taken any other. I simply couldn't disagree more with this list.

I'm not too fond of power scales in shonen or in any kind of superhero work or similar, because I feel that they always end up becoming completely subjective balances of who makes them. But, I suppose, Dandadan is no exception.

Chapter 61.

In all the rankings I see Momo MUCH BELOW what I consider to be Momo's real power. Momo has the potential to alter reality. No, she hasn't reached that power currently, but she has the potential. And although I know that many times Momo is put very low just considering her strength and ignoring her strategy and quick reaction, that doesn't happen with Okarun who only beat Evil Eye because he is smarter than him. Okarun to this day has not shown any hidden potential and is still limited to using the turbo special hit 2 or 3 times. Or, at least, it was like that when he still had them. Evil Eye can use his powers unlimitedly even while inside Jiji's body and the same is true for Jiji himself when Evil Eye gives him control of his powers.

Chapter 173.

On the other hand, the fact that characters like Kinta or Vamola are not positioned at practically the same level is insulting. Yes, they are strong and big, but they are completely dependent on technology. Kinta without the nanoskin is directly a teenager with less skills than average and Vamola is something similar but they take away her armor. There are so many ways to beat them without having to get into a fight… Although Kinta can make incredible things, he was defeated not long ago by a well-placed baseball bat. You don't have to try too hard to knock it out of the game.

If we go to the fights that have been adapted in the anime so far. Momo is the one who wins in these fights or, at the very least, the essential piece to make the fight go in her favor. Let me explain:

Episode 1. Momo and Okarun vs Aliens and Turbogranny. Although Okarun tries to do something, he cannot help Momo. She is able to unlock the powers herself, save herself and Okarun, and dispossess Okarun's body even though the curse is still inside. If the turbo had not used the curse to teleport to the ufo, it would have finished off Okarun without him being able to defend himself.

Episode 2.

Momo and Okarun vs Flatwoods Monster. Again, Okarun tries to contribute something, but the thing is that if it hadn't been for the fact that the seal would have burned Okarun's body, Momo would have won the fight with extreme ease. If anything, we can say that he borrowed a little power from Seiko, as the talisman is what makes the fight end. But Momo's strategy is too good not to give her credit for it.

Episode 4.

Momo and Okarun vs Turbogranny, Earthbound Spirit Crab & Spirits. Obviously, without Okarun's powers it is impossible that they would have left the city unscathed, but Momo could have just let it go in the first place as Seiko suggested. The strategy of the entire combat depends on her, in addition to her powers, they are capable of containing the turbo in fusion mode. She wasn't strong enough to beat her, but she was strong enough to stop her until she broke through Seiko's barrier. Yes, Seiko was also important. But at that point in the fight, Momo not only had to endure a very tough fight, but on top of that she had to carry an unconscious okarun.

Episode 6 & 7.

Momo & Okarun vs Acrobatic Silky. Okarun was the first to be devoured. Although in the second part of the fight he was able to intervene something else and even delivered the final blow to the acrobatic, the rest of the fight depended on the strategy and powers of Momo who, on top of that, was tied up.

Episode 8 & 9.

Momo, Okarun & Aira vs Serpos, Mantis & Nessie. The target was always Okarun. Every time the enemies took advantage it was because Momo was not in the fight or because she made mistakes and got distracted. Errors that serpos take advantage of to use fusions. The final strategy is once again Momo's, her powers are those that destroy the arms of the fused version and she is the one who manages to revive Aira when she is knocked out. It is evident that both Aira and Okarun are necessary for them to win. But they don't succeed until Momo is able to focus and coordinate the entire fight.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

oooh! several related thoughts

(1) this au is a blast, it’s a very non-obvious crossover that nonetheless works really, really well - i think it’s the underlying genre match that really sells it, the vibe of the silm clashes hard with most modern works but the trojan war is equally mythic, equally grand, equally tragic. it feels like these worlds speak enough of the same language they could have something real to say about each other, like they’re variations on the same theme interpreted by totally different authors who nevertheless both get it. match made in heaven, fëanorian au of the year

(2) like, on a human level, i get wanting maedhros’ ragtag band of refugees to settle in númenor, but on the other hand i have the mental image of academic papers three thousand years later/one fourth wall up on The Cult of Maedhros Prometheus’ Son in Western Anatolia. because of course that’s what they’d do; that’s how their societies conceptualise power, their gods aren’t so much totally beyond humanity as a super-amped-up version of people, boy’s getting regular goat sacrifices before the century is out. does his cult wither in obscurity, or spread across the region? what stories do they tell about him, and how do those change over the millennia? who does he get syncretised with? how does hesiod fit him into the theogony????

(3) and on the other side of the interdimensional portal, the idea of odysseus interacting with maglor… really, really tickles me. late-game, bitter, sarcastic bastard mags, who on top of all his canon self’s issues is now stressed to hell and back because his older brother’s absence has left him in a place he never wanted be again - in charge. the banter would be legendary, and of the sort where you can never quite be sure someone’s not about to draw a knife

and i think, if anyone (on this side of the sundering seas, anyway) has a chance of figuring out what actually happened, it’s maglor? he’s a legendary bard in a world made of music, he’s… familiar enough with the structure of things to work it out for himself. he spends a frankly unsettling amount of time just staring at odysseus, going from humming random notes as if trying to get a fix on a melody to chanting nonsense syllables under his breath in perfect dactylic hexameter, tapping the ground with the tip of his scabbard to the beat

4) [SCENE: some unremarkable cove near (but not too near) the mouths of sirion, currently playing host to a boat that, while obviously of falathrim design, has some rather unusual iconography and a name in a language no one can read)

random human sailor odysseus cajoled into helping him try to get to valinor: i don’t get it, why’d the boss tell us to ready the ship in the usual place before he even gets back

another random human sailor, ditto: let’s hope whatever he’s plotting doesn’t - wait, do you hear that

odysseus: :suddenly bursts through the treeline, riding a very large horse that’s only partially under his control, a faintly glowing ball of cloth stashed under one arm:

odysseus: :dismounts with the air of a man who knows he’ll get kicked in the face if he pushes his luck any further: we have to cast off RIGHT NOW

random human sailor #3: boss what kind of túrin turambar-level nonsense -

odysseus :already leaping onboard: no time to explain move MOVE

sounds of pounding hooves, clattering metal, and absolutely furious quenya: :echo through the forest:

odysseus’ boat: :is already being shoved far beyond the horizon by a very convenient storm by the time the fëanorians reach the shore:

(odysseus later successfully bullshits maedhros that he’s been loaned the silmaril for the express purpose of getting the aid of the valar long enough to jump through the portal to ithaca and seal it shut behind him)

Maedhros in Troy AU: Outcome

Okay, so with the Maedhros in Troy AU, I have spent way more time on Maedhros than Odysseus.

BUT.

I think Odysseus might be the key to how this whole situation gets resolved.

Consider:

Odysseus finds Elured and Elurin and tries to find a way out of the woods. In the process, he comes across some of the other refugees from Doriath, who are very relieved to see their princes and very grateful to the man who rescued them. For lack of better ideas, Odysseus stays with them.

(He doesn't recognize these stars. How is he supposed to get home if he can't even recognize the stars - )

The refugees head to Sirion. Eventually, they manage to get past the language barrier well enough to communicate.

None of the elves know where Ithaca is, sorry, or how he might have gotten here, they don't know anyone who would know - except the Valar, of course, ha-ha -

The who? Odysseus asks, very interested.

Oh, well, the Valar, these superpowered not quite all knowing beings who live across the ocean -

That ocean? he asks, pointing, just to be sure.

(This is the man who saw Aeolus's island and decided he was going to climb it. Who was told to go to the Underworld and didn't hesitate. He is absolutely going to try to sail west.)

This is a bad idea, the elves say hastily. Everyone who has tried to sail west has been forced to turn back or die.

Odysseus tries anyway.

He is forced to turn back.

He keeps trying.

In between attempts, he picks up some knowledge of the Silmaril. He doesn't care about it particularly; he just can't avoid picking up on some things about it.

Like the fact the Valar, at least at one time, badly wanted it.

Odysseus steals the Silmaril and makes another attempt.

The Valar have so many questions for him when he shows up.

He does get back to Ithaca, though.

In less than twenty years.

(The Valar, in fixing this situation, also get Maedhros back. There are many awkward things about this situation; the Valar have the Silmaril but don't really consider themselves to rightfully hold it given how Odysseus got it in the first place; Maedhros is an exile who is not supposed to be in Valinor and who does not want to be here, and now they have to decide what to do about that - )

(It does not help the awkwardness that Maedhros, who has had to deal with Zeus's tantrums over his refusal to kill a baby, Aphrodite's tantrums for reasons he's not sure he wants to understand, Athena's demands to know where Odyssues is, Hephaestus and Ares being what they thought was helpful, Apollo's curse on Cassandra, and everyone's general surprise when he didn't think human sacrifice was the best solution for placating the storms - )

(Maedhros looks at the Valar thoughtfully and decides that, for all his problems with the Valar, he respects the fact that they are not the Olympians.)

(The Valar are deeply concerned with what they hear about the Olympians.)

(This may influence their decision that while the Trojans can't stay here-here in Aman, they can stay in Middle Earth.)

(Maybe with the Edain on that island they were thinking of raising . . .)

[dallonwrites]

that post about how sometimes creatives block is just that you need to just eat something nice, hydrate yourself, clean your space, take a shower etc is really such an important reminder like i just cleaned my whole room and my brain feels much clearer and calmer now. whereas i’ve spent the last week basically fighting against myself to get into a Writing frame of mind 

[thegreatyin]

to put a long story short: at the end of ffxiv's base game, literally Directly before the beginning of its first expansion (heavensward), there is a series of quests and story arcs that eventually snowball into an hour-long cutscene in which the entire thing comes to a head in the literal worst way possible. like, "the hero's plans all go horribly wrong and several major characters die onscreen, with others going missing (presumed dead), eventually culminating in the player character being framed for the murder of the leader of a nation-state and being Literally Forced To Flee The Country" wrong.

heavensward leads directly on from this plotline. you arrive at the major location of the expansion in the midst of seeking asylum whilst being a wanted criminal everywhere else in the world right now. it's like. A Whole Thing. the game makes such a big deal out of it all. the fandom does as well. and for good reason!! it's a really good moment!!!!!!

and then roughly 1/3rds of the way into heavensward you find out that literally none of it mattered. nobody important actually died, no changes were actually made to the status quo, and nothing comes of being literally kicked out of the country for (what is implied to be) several in-universe weeks, if not months. None Of It Mattered. None.

TLDR; the bloody banquet is a major, exciting, and very infamous twist that seems like it's going to segway into a MAJOR upheaval of the status quo and some really intriguing ramifications for the story as a whole... and then heavensward does away with literally all of that and practically writes the entire thing off as a waste of time.

you may be able to see why i'm so salty about it.

[donut-entendre]

why are you starving your farmer's son to death. feed him

[mad-hunts]

tw: cannibalism, (slightly) graphic depictions of violence and HEAVY elements of horror will be ahead, so i'm going to put this under a 'read-more' if you'd rather skip out on this one.

so they looked around for a bit, and that's when they found it. this blood trail going down the floor of the hallway, which was already kind of scary, though it was nothing compared to the sound of someone's ringtone suddenly resounding from one of the rooms in the back (think one of those love songs with sort of creepy vibes to them like ' unchained melody. ') so, once your muse gathered enough courage, they decided to proceed down it even though something inside of them was screaming that something seemed wrong. and it seemed like they were right because once they reached the back, they found a dead body just... pressed up against the wall with blood spattered behind them. and there were other spots of the wall spattered with blood as well.

i feel like, for a character that's supposed to be pretty horror-oriented, that this account has been kind of lacking in content related to that lately, SO imagine this scenario, y'all. your muse is friends with or just cares about barton in some way. and thus, whenever they find out that he's attracted the ire of someone dangerous + that he's been missing for WEEKS, they assume the worst and try to find out his location. which leads them to this already creepy, dilapidated, and abandoned mortuary. and they honestly didn't know what they were expecting once they entered it, but it certainly wasn't this deafening silence, and there seeming to be... no one around?

so, you try to circle around to find out what the hell is going on, but then you see the thing that barton is hunched over is a body and a third one on the autopsy table in the room. and your muse can't help but blanche + feel like they've just stumbled into the lions den, because barton is not only SO beat up, but he's eating the person below him. and it's absolutely horrific because whenever they gasp at the sight is when barton finally looks up at them.

it was ALL over this corpses' face, though, as it appeared like they died from some sort of brutal blunt force trauma. but there's also another blood trail that is smeared across the floor up and under one of the doors in the back, which they are REALLY questioning whether they want to open now. they choose to do so with their eyes closed after remembering that barton would do the same for them (and by that, i mean he would want to save them JSJSJ), and all they can see when they open them is the back of barton hunched over something, or someone as you discover while getting closer to him. and it's like he is either ignoring you or hasn't heard you enter the room because he's still focused on whatever he was doing.

and there is just NOTHING behind those eyes even though he's got a copious amount of blood dripping down from his lips and dripping down his chin + neck. like JSJSJ i don't know about you guys, but i would be sooo scared because not only is this NOT normal behavior for him at all, it's god damn terrifying to see someone cannibalize you someone else. and so if he were real, along with me being in this situation, i probably wouldn't talk to him for a while because i wouldn't even know where to begin AHHH

[silverwhittlingknife]

hiii! i just wanted to reach out n let you know that i just spent the last few days speed reading all your ao3 work bc i literally couldn't put it down. the way you write dick really just scratches my brain in the best way possible. he's a little (read: very) neurotic and it just. his motivations are so clear in your work, not in the sense that there isn't tension and anxiety but in that his core personality, his drive to help and the anger and trauma that has built him, his need to always be performing and catering to those around him, it comes across sososososos SO well. he was the first character that got me into comics and since then i've kinda stopped reading him bc i have lots of issues w tom taylors run (not the point so i digress) but you have really inspired me to go back and read more of his old stuff so thank you! you have such a clear grasp on his character and its something i admire very much! ur very very talented! and i really appreciate you sharing ur art! hope ur doin well :)

HI THIS IS SUCH A NICE COMPLIMENT???? <3333 This is so nice & sweet & it made my whole day!!! THANK YOU I AM HUGGING YOU ACROSS THE INTERNET AHHHHHH

he's a little (read: very) neurotic and it just. his motivations are so clear in your work, not in the sense that there isn't tension and anxiety but in that his core personality, his drive to help and the anger and trauma that has built him, his need to always be performing and catering to those around him

YEAH IT's HIMMMM i love this description <333

THANK YOU YOU ARE LOVELY & KIND PLS ACCEPT THIS DOG PICTURE AS TOKEN OF MY GRATITUDE

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

its so mindboggling that people can go “how can you say free palestine if you’re queer” as if the opinions a person has changes the validity of their life??? yall sound real similar to the people saying trans people are a danger to society

[lesbiansanemi]

I am so fucking sick of living with my roommate and his fuck ass boyfriend. Also watching my roommate burn every single one of his (already rather minimal, I might add) bridges for this guy is also kind of painful but also his relationship with me is one of said bridges so I'm almost past the point of even feeling bad for him lmao

[gwydionae]

I get using no specific iteration of the TMNT in a crossover and just making yet another new version. After all, the franchise has had many, many different versions at this point, so it's easy to accept that this is simply one more to add to the pile.

But Naruto has... one. Just the one. So when all of a sudden characters are written/shown to have expertise that they shouldn't have at the age they're being depicted, it just ends up feeling weird.

I get that fitting things into the Naruto timeline can be a chore. Do it too early, and Sakura is kinda useless. Do it too late, and Sasuke's off murdering people. And if you try to set it after the series, the power levels are seriously gonna be out of whack.

But breaking the only canon that has ever existed for these characters makes them feel like... not the same characters. I might be the only one who cares about this, but it really took me out of the story, to the point where I couldn't help but focus on it. I don't want to be distracted from page one of a silly ninja crossover comic.

[february-academia]

28.04.2023

So much happened this week. (In tags I'll rant about it)

N4 is coming and my prep is not at all good. Took a test today and i failed🥲. But i know my prep is soo bad,it was bound to happen. So have to study for that.

College exams are coming🥹 also have to study for that. The dissertation proposal is in the finalising stage,so that's good. But have to work on it properly imo.

Then i also proposed another research study to my professor and he has encouraged me to go for it. So,also have to work on it.

These very cutu plants in the scorching heat were a treat to eyes and mind.

Got this book from the library and I'm really enjoying reading the essays.

( correction in a tag- she scored less than me in class and she was all sad sad. With her i had to suppress my happiness at moments like these)

[braintapes]

Genuinely though say what you will about Odo, he has many problems, but I will never be able to understand why the writers had him reconcile with Dr. Mora like that. IN THE EPISODE WHERE THE GUY PROVES HES NOT SORRY, DOESNT REGRET WHAT HE DID AT ALL, AND HAS NOT CHANGED. They tried to play it like, 'oooohhh well you can criticize all you want Odo but you'll see youuur approach isn't perfect either! Cut the guy some slaaaack Odo he didn't know what he was doing cmooonn.' Fucking. aaaAAAAGH!

That episode WOULD have been one of my favorites if its conclusion hadn't boiled down to, "Well you see a little bit of abuse is actually necessary, you just can't raise a child successfully WITHOUT purposefully harming them. Also you really should cut your shitty awful parent some slack for hurting you and doing nothing to even try to make up for it because they were right, actually." like. Hello???????

and obviously Odo is far from the only character in all of Trek who gets this problem, this is just...a Thing that keeps happening across Treks but since he's a favorite of mine it sticks out in my mind. :-(

[h-i-raeth]

Time And Hearts Will Wear Us Thin (hanahaki deconstrucion fic) for wip wednesday? i love hanahaki deconstruction

WIP Wednesday Ch 1-3 on AO3 here

“And it didn’t get worse after I told you that you had to be out of your mind to make a move on me,” Robin continues, offering her hand to him palm side up. “Because I didn’t withdraw the affection I do have for you by rejecting you. Even though you didn’t land a single date with anyone else despite quite literally throwing yourself at a wide variety of eligible young women.”

Steve takes the offer, and Robin starts rubbing circles into the hand he places in hers with her thumb. “That would seem to be the case.”

“So. Maybe the answer isn’t to go throwing yourself into a rebound relationship."

[izzy-b-hands]

I. I think I have a decent finished draft for the first day of the upcoming Our Flag fan event with those drag based prompts that's coming up later in the month but. Oh. I made myself sad for Izzy in the process 🥺