#and remember that comparison is the thief of joy

[pricetagged]

I need to get off tumblr and just wriiiite 😢

[macks-ugly-cackle]

AAAAHHHHHH

I was looking at a ton of amazing fan art but now I feel insecuurrreeeeeee

[honeytonedhottie]

how to feel enough⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍦

STOP COMPARING URSELF TO OTHERS ;

comparison is the thief of joy. why should you compare yourself to other people? thats like comparing an apple to an orange, or a lily to a rose. everyone is uniquely different and no one person is the same.

to have a fair comparison, both things that ur comparing must be the same and since no one person is the same as another, comparing urself to others is illogical and incorrect. its unfair.

CHECK ON HOW YOU'VE GROWN ;

check on how you've blossomed and grown as a person by keeping track of achievements, big or small, or milestones to remind yourself that YOUR LITERALLY AMAZING. when you are consistent and persistent, when u look back and see how far that you've come its like a major confidence boost.

doing this regularly reminds yourself that you are not inadequate and that you are competent and capable of amazing things. dont be afraid to remind urself of who you are.

FEELINGS ARE NOT FACTS ;

just because you might feel like ur not enough sometimes, doesn't mean that its true. remind urself of ur core facts through affirmations, journalling, whatever u like. remember that

you are who you say you are

you are more than enough

and you are an incredible human being

identify the lies that you've believed about urself/the lies that people told u about urself. once you've identified these lies, work on changing them to truth. (im not enough -> im more than enough)

and remember that your talented, beautiful, kind, hot, WHATEVER U WANNA BE. the choice is yours, mwah ✨

[deathgasmic]

comparison is the thief of all joy, remember that <3

[penaltyboxboxbox]

i admire your art to the point of jealousy (and i know comparison is the thief of joy but your stuff is simply breathtaking and ive wasted too many years to ever get on your level)

thank you for admiring my work but arghhhg.......let it be remembered that the point of art is not to be "good" but to express and to create...at the end of the day there is no wrong way to do that........ and its also important to note like. im nearly 30 and have been in some form of art class/training pretty much constantly since i was literally like. 4 or 5....like i mean i still take art classes to this day. and even with that i look at my art and dont even think i would consider myself happy with what i made until i was like 24/25 and even looking back at work i made a year ago i see the change since then and im sure ill feel the same way next year... the key is to never stop creating even if you arent happy with where your skills are. dont be afraid to take classes if you have the ability to. focus on creating things that make you happy at the end of the day thats whats most important !!!! but if you stop you will never know what you are capable of and no year spent creating is a year wasted its a year where you learned ans you grew ❤️

[writingquestionsanswered]

Anonymous asked: I find myself in a terrible rut where I want to read things from my favorite writers, but I compare myself too them and get discouraged feeling like my work will never be that good. I know comparison is a thief of joy, and people say they enjoy my writing, but I can't seem to get out of my own way. My other question is how to take a step back and remember we're doing this because we enjoy writing?

[Ask edited for length]

It can help to bear in mind that all writers--even your favorite ones--felt the same way at some point, and some of them still do. There are successful, famous, best-selling, award-winning authors who still get imposter syndrome. So, on some level, that's just brains doing brain things.

Also, though, it can help to know it's actually a good sign when you feel like your writing isn't quite where you want it to be. It means your taste... to quote Ira Glass (see video below), "the thing that got you into the game, your taste is still killer. And your taste is good enough that you can tell that what you're making is kind of a disappointment to you..." And that matters, because it means your brain knows what's good, even if you haven't quite gotten your writing skill there yet. But knowing... to quote something else... "is half the battle." If you know your writing could be better, you have the ability to get it there and you will.

So, read the post linked below and watch the video:

Comparing Self to Others, Insecure About Writing

And here's another post that might help:

Guide: Dealing with Self-Doubt & Impostor Syndrome

Ultimately, you get back to the joy of writing (and reading) by remembering that writing isn't something you instantly do well. Good writing takes time and practice, and you get better with every book you read and every story you write. So, keep loving what you're doing, because it's getting better and better with time, and there will come a time where you feel more confident in your writing and struggle less with comparing your writing to others. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[rubbishbooty-blog]

Productivity is the name of the game this week, I've busted out 4 models!! I don't understand how I did it or why all I know is that I did 😌

First up is a terminator Librarian , fun sculpt with a dynamic pose really impressed with how many runes they managed to squeeze onto this large man, I also tried my hand at trying a skin colour that I've not done before, turned out pretty well I think 🤔

Next up is the terminator captain, I spent longer on the cloak that the entirety of the model like, why I thought putting flames inside the cloak where you won't see them I'll never know

With them 2 done I thought I'd finally finished the space marine half of the leviathan box, then I found the terminator teleport beacon, I decided to make it feel more salamander and places it in a lava pool 🤘

I also had an excursion to my local GW and found they're having a small Painting comp, so with a few pokes and strokes I knocked out this guy in record time, can't remember the model name but I know it's a free guild mini 😅

There's been a bit of improvement in my speed painting skill, but this is mainly down to practicing and not comparing my final product

Remember y'all, paint the grey, practice a bit a day if you can and don't compare, as comparison is the thief of joy.

Til next time rock on 🤘

[ping-ski]

Hewwo!!! :3 I hope you are having an amazing day, here is a whole plate of cupcakes! Would it be possible for you to share a few lore details about your Eclipsed By You AU story? I keep looking at the designs and I am so curious about what will be happening, I would wish to nibble on tiny lore crumbs, pretty please?

ama!! hihi! ! i meant to answer your ask much sooner! anyways, since you asked so nicely (and because i am pathetically weak to any sweets </3) prepare for some SERIOUS yappage under that cut

✦ AuDHD demands that I explain EBY origins before any details but you can totally skip this if you want! (Scroll till you see blue text! :3) So... Eclipsed By You was intended to be au/fic just for myself after work when I first got into DCA. I literally was pantsing a self-insert fic from just gameplay, voicelines, and a collection of scenarios I wrote in my notes app before I actually interacted with the DCA fandom lol. I was already in the process of writing it to be a proper fic and planned to make an AO3 acc to post it! I took some time away from it tho cause I got busy irl. During my break I did start to interact more the fandom! The first proper DCA fic I read was 'Solar Lunacy' by BamSara a few months back as a recommendation from a mutual I had from another fandom. I had told them about my fic idea and they suggested I read the fic as my fic had reminded them of SL. After reading through, I was kind of bummed initially because I really didn't think I had anything unique to offer with my own fic that I was hoping to share. I stopped writing it cause damn comparison truly is the thief of joy. SL and EBY had similar ideas going on and I just didn't feel like it was worth posting my fic cause it didn't feel "special" to me anymore. It was easy to give up since writing is really not my strong suit at all, so then I fell back to just drawing! I only came back to it despite the 19 other DCA aus I have lined up rn cause honestly I remembered that wrote it for my own enjoyment! Why did that have to change? Albeit, I did scrap lots of what I initially wrote and started fresh cause my interpretation of DCA changed. Regardless, EBY was always going to be a self-indulgent DCA/Reader fic taking place at the Pizza Plex. Sure not anything original, but that's just a fact of being a creative in general tbh. I felt silly when I realized that haha. I'm having fun and they make me smile, so who cares if its been done before lol. I still enjoy Solar Lunacy and still am a fan of BamSara! (the cotl content has been fueling me lmao)

✦ Some bits on Eclipsed By You- The main part of your ask lol! ✿ On the au/fic name: I actually stole it from another au (of the many) I have. No particular reason for it! I was writing EBY and that au around the same time and alternated working on the two throughout the day. That au is now nameless (actually it's nicknamed "Messiah" as I type) cause EBY grew onto me for what it is now! ✿ On DCA's designs: This might be kind of disappointing lol but- there isn't much of a lore/plot reason for their designs? They just look that way cause... why not :3 It's also part of just how I interpret DCA into my artstyle. Otherwise, they can be interpreted as the canon designs early on! Atleast until some future upgrades! ✿ When in SB are we? Everywhere /hj. EBY will have some pre-virus and post-virus stuff just for funsies! I'm dying to yap but if I say anymore I will get carried away 100%. ✿ On EBY!Eclipse: For this au, Eclipse is his own "person" you could say. With his own AI and personality chip to pair! Carefully built to be a dedicated host and theater bot. He is, including Sun and Moon, the entertainment <3. They are a singular animatronic in this fic! (like those 3 in 1 soaps except it's DCA /j) ✿ On EBY!Y/N: (EBY is a reader-insert, but intended to be written as gender neutral and an adult.) Y/N gets their own bit of lore and issues that may or may not be the stress/frustration from my 2 irl jobs thinly veiled lmao. They work part-time at the Plex as a general theater staff member! Each week, their tasks rotating between concessions, being an usher, and working along side the theater bots! (Kind of like a theater tech.) This is a part-time job just to keep them afloat while they work on their last bit of certifications and training to be a caretaker! They are pretty passionate about helping those in need. A sweetheart honestly. Though, if you don't like kids, maybe look away. Wholesome moments with the littles and DCA + Y/N is pretty decent with kids themselves. (Lots of projection from my own experiences working with children and elderly, as a caregiver turned caretaker. I kind of want to highlight some of my experiences with Y/N.) ✿ On EBY!Sun and Moon: These two are goofballs alongside Eclipse through and through. They all get to be sweet, soft, and doting I promise. Originally, before scrapping a good chunk of the og writing, EBY had a beloved sweetheart anxous Sun and aggressive Moon who was kind of an asshole(Before the rewrite, EBY felt so different. Like everyone was just tolerating eachother and fragments being held together with glitter glue n' dreams. I am very very glad it's different now lol.) Eclipse stayed fairly consistent though. Sweet house husband that he is. Now, Sun is just as unhinged as Moon (making him just as much as a threat!), but we will persevere with the power of friendship <3 We're gonna have some aloof Sun moments. He takes his job pretty seriously! Some goofy Moon bits who's giggles are light and airy. He is very unserious I fear. They're both trying their best, in their own ways. There's not much I can say rn without spoiling haha. It's hard to stay vague hrm. Or atleast I can't think of anything specific to add right now. (I may be able to answer some specific questions if you have any, my brain is just foggy rn) ✿ I'm simplifying it down to your "typical pizza plex fic" with pre-virus and post-fire shenanigans. I'm sorry if none of that is telling I can't think of anything specific cause I'm pretty sleepy rn so maybe it's a little boring sounding but I love it anyways haha Expect some canon-typical violence and non-sexual intimacy! I have intentions on writing the relationship between Y/N and DCA ambiguous so it can be seen as queerplatonic or romantic. (But this could very easily changed, I'm a shameless robokisser sigh.)

[sergeantsporks]

Writin Request: Gus & Hunter going to a convention!

“Alright, important things to remember before we go in.” Luz held out her arms to block Hunter and Gus. “Number one: If you see a panel or table labelled as ‘meet the voice of,’ then they are a voice actor. Do not be disappointed when they don’t look like the character, because they just lent their voice. Number two: if you go to a panel or table for a live action actor, please, please, please remember that they are ALSO not the character. They are just someone who was paid to pretend to be the character.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, pushing at her arms. “We know how acting works, Luz.”

“Yeah, I’ve been in school plays before, and I know I wasn’t actually a tree,” Gus scoffed, then side-eyed Hunter. “Wait, how do you know how actors work?”

“Okay, okay,” Luz conceded, “One more rule. This one is the most important one, don’t forget it.” She grabbed the fronts of Hunter and Gus’ costumes, looking them deep in the eyes. “Do not. Do not, do not, do not. Start comparing your cosplay to someone else’s. The saying ‘comparison is the thief of joy’ is never truer than at a con. If you see a nice cosplay, just think to yourself ‘wow that cosplay is so good!’ Do not start thinking ‘my cosplay is terrible compared to theirs.’ It will kill you. Do you understand me.”

“We understand,” Hunter and Gus chorused, and finally, Luz released them.

“Okay! Have fun! Check all the booths before you make any purchase decisions. You will go over budget, just accept this.”

“Are you adding more rules?” Gus asked.

Luz flapped a hand at them. “No, no, no, I’m done. Amity and I will meet you up at the front at noon, okay?”

“Okay,” they chorused, and finally, Luz was gone, disappearing with Amity towards the Azura actress autograph signing.

“Pfft,” Gus said once she was gone, elbowing Hunter, “Like anyone’s cosplay is going to be as good as ours anyway. You are actually a clone! What O’Bailey cosplayer can compare to that?”

“Yeah!” Hunter agreed, “And your headset? I mean, it lights up! Who else is going to have a costume that lights up?”

“Oh, hey—”

A hand closed on Hunter’s shoulder, and he grabbed it, reflexively flipping his unknown assailant over with a thump on her back. A freckled girl dressed in science officer blue frontier cosplay blinked up at the ceiling with a groan.

Hunter dropped her wrist. “Oh, no. No, no, no, I’m sorry, I—”

She wheezed in a laugh. “No—no, that was awesome.” She scrambled back to her feet. “Whew. Surprised me, but honestly? Points for the dedication to character! I should have known better than to sneak up on O’Bailey! He might be an engineer, but—”

“Duplicant battle protocol makes for one hell of a punch,” Hunter and Gus quoted with her. She lapsed into more giggles.

“Exactly.”

Hunter looked her up and down. He recognized the uniform, but she’d affixed a Duplicant communicator to her ear, and wore bracelets engraved with lettering he recognized from a one-off planet. “Who are you? I don’t recognize your character.”

“Oh—well, of course you don’t.” She twirled, revealing that her uniform flared out into a skirt at the end. “I’m my own original character! Shaari, the result of a Duplicant defying protocol and having a child with a Mergarave. I’m a double agent.” She winked. “But I won’t say for who.”

“That’s creative,” Gus told her warmly, “The Mergarave had such a neat design—it was a shame we left their planet so soon.”

Shaari—whatever her real name was—nodded emphatically. “I know, right? Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really like your cosplays. Are you going to enter the costume contest?”

“Costume contest?” Hunter and Gus echoed.

“Yeah, the Cosmic Frontier panel holds one every year, since it’s so difficult to get one of the actors in. On account of, you know. Most of them being either really famous or really dead. Anyway, they have a group category, and first prize is a signed box set of the original Cosmic Frontier trilogy. Mint condition. Original characters aren’t accepted in the group round. We have a separate category. But you two should totally sign up. I think you’ve got a real shot at winning. It was nice meeting you!”

She wandered off, jogging to join a friend wearing a Cosmic Frontier T-shirt, and Gus grabbed Hunter’s arms.

“Hunter. We have to win that box set. Camila will love it.”

“I know.” Hunter started towards the galaxy-themed banner he could see in the distance. “She said to bring her back a sticker or a pin or something—can you imagine if we come home with a mint-condition signed copy of the Cosmic Frontier original trilogy? We are going to win at comic-con.”

“Oh, yeah. Costume contest, here we come, baby!”

A bored-looking con employee waited at the Cosmic Frontier table, sign up sheets in front of him. “Original characters here, solo costumers here, and group costumes here,” he monotoned, gesturing to three different pieces of paper, “The competition is judged on both the quality of your costume and how well you portray your character. We’ve only got about ten more minutes until the morning competition starts, so please hurry.”

Hunter signed he and Gus’ names on the group competition list, and the employee jabbed one thumb at the door behind him. “Wait in there, you’ll be called in order.”

Hunter and Gus found themselves in a long hallway, covered with black tarp dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars. Just ahead of them, a much larger group of young adults laughed, elbowing each other.

“Try again,” one of them in a blue uniform encouraged.

“I’ll get it on stage!” their Captain Avery protested, “I just can’t take it seriously in practice with all you guys making faces at me.”

Hunter stopped, hissing in, and Gus bumped into him. “What? What’s the matter?”

“Maybe… maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

“What?”

“I mean—I just—” Hunter gestured ahead of them. “Look! They’ve got the full bridge.”

“There wasn’t a rule on how many members you needed.”

“I know, but…” Hunter gulped. Even in the low light, he could see the quality of their costumes, and it made him painfully aware of the stitches still showing on his. “I mean… just look at them.”

As if to emphasize his point, their O’Bailey hit a switch on his headset, and the whole thing lit up with a whoosh, the red eye glowing dully in the dark. When he moved his arm, it clicked gently.

“They’ve got better costumes—they’ve got better gear—they’ve got the whole bridge—and they go up before us, Gus. We’re going to look ridiculous after them!”

“Well—hey—no. Remember what Luz said? Comparing costumes is not something you should do at cons.”

“Gus, we’ve just entered a costume contest. The entire point is that people will compare our costumes! We’ve entered a zone outside of Luz’s rules!” Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t seen anyone come in after us, either! We’re going to go last, after these guys, and then there will be no one after us to make them forget how mediocre we were!”

Gus’ hand landed on his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Hey—Hunter, deep breaths. Deep breaths. It’s not just about how good your costume looks, remember? We’ll go up there, we’ll do the Astral Oath, and we’ll get it on acting. Piece of cake.” He nudged Hunter’s arm with his own. “For the boxed set, right?”

“For the boxed set,” Hunter repeated, but suddenly, the boxed set didn’t seem so attainable. “Okay. We can do this.”

The line moved slowly. Hunter could hear people ahead of them performing their characters, some strong and confident, and others barely managing to stumble out a “beam us up” before running offstage. But finally, the group ahead of them moved onstage, and Hunter could see out into the auditorium. Everyone who’d already gone had found a seat, adding to the number of people watching. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

For the boxed set.

“Cosmic Nerds?” the announcer called.

The full bridge rushed to center stage. Hunter watched, open-mouthed, as they pulled over to their respective bridge spots on the stage. The blue-uniformed one shook their head. “I don’t think the ground team is making it out of this one, Captain,” they sighed, “Logically, our best option is—”

The Captain Avery cosplayer straightened up, arms behind her back. “To leave them behind? No. Have you forgotten? Our crew is family. No matter who we are, or what we are, we love and protect each other.”

“Through supernovas, and solar winds,” the rest of the bridge chorused with them.

“Exactly. Now let’s get our family back.”

They rushed off the stage to thunderous applause from the audience, and Hunter’s stomach dropped. Captain Avery really had done better when on stage. And they’d performed the Astral Oath—if Hunter and Gus did that now, they’d just look like copycats.

There’s no way we win this.

Hunter started to back up, but then he and Gus’ names echoed from the front, and Gus stepped forward, accidentally tromping on the back of his heels, and before Hunter quite knew what he was doing, he was out on stage, with dozens of people staring at him, and a mic in front of him.

“Go on,” Gus whispered encouragingly, “Give me something to start the oath.”

“Um,” Hunter squeaked, and the mike screeched, making everyone in the audience wince. Hunter took a step back, ignoring Gus’ confused glance. His heart pounded in his ears. The stares of the audience bored into him, every single pair of eyes another judgement.

Say something

Say something

Say something

“Hey, everybody.”

Hunter blinked. Gus had taken the mic. He winked at the audience. “I know, breaking the fourth wall isn’t very in-character of me. But, well, maybe I don’t need to be Captain Avery at the moment.”

A murmur rippled through the watchers. Hunter took a deep breath, watching Gus. What was he up to?

“Cosmic Frontier means something special to everyone here,” Gus continued, “For me—and for Hunter—it found us when we needed it most. Avery, O’Bailey, and the rest of the crew showed up when home was uncertain, when who we were was uncertain, and they told us… well, they told us that even if we never found our way back home, that didn’t mean we couldn’t find our way to a family. And that family could be each other.”

Gus set the microphone back in the stand. “It might not be the Astral Oath, but hey…” he turned back to Hunter, holding out his fist. “I think Captain Avery would be okay if we used our own.”

A grin spread over Hunter’s face, and he bumped fists, elbows, and foreheads with Gus, both of them making an explosion noise.

“Captain Avery and Chief Engineer O’Bailey, beaming out,” Gus said into the microphone.

Hunter heard a piercing whistle and cheer as he walked off the stage. Shaari gave the two of them a big thumbs-up from the audience, her cheer setting off a wave of loud—if not as enthusiastic as the last round—applause.

The announcer took the stage again. “Aaaaalright. That was our last group, so. The judges are going to start their decision-making now. After the winners are announced, we’ll be opening up a vote for the crewmen’s choice. Be sure to scan the QR code and vote on your phone!”

Gus tugged Hunter to the back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured in a low voice.

Hunter blinked. “For what? I should be the one apologizing—I choked back there, I forgot Luz’s rule, I—”

“You wanted to back out. I should have listened.” Gus sighed. “Blinded by the box set.”

Hunter chuckled. “It’s a magnificent box set, to be fair. It’s okay, Gus.” He nudged his friend’s shoulder. “And—hey. Thanks. For what you said back there. It was… nice.”

“And now for our winners!”

Hunter and Gus turned back to the stage, listening impatiently through the solo costumes and original character costumes—Shaari won second and a free cosmic frontier keychain—until they reached the group award. Third place went by. So did second.

“And our first prize winner…”

Hunter held his breath, crossing his fingers.

“…Cosmic Nerds!”

The audience burst out cheering again as the group took the stage again, pausing for a photo, and for their prize. Hunter sighed.

“Oh, well.”

“Camila will be happy with a sticker, too,” Gus assured him, “We should go find her one.”

They wandered out of the auditorium, but before they’d gone far, Hunter felt a tap on his shoulder. This time, he managed to restrain his impulse to throw whoever it was over onto their back, and turned around.

Cosmic Nerd’s O’Bailey stood in front of him. The rest of the group cluttered in the auditorium doors, still laughing and elbowing each other.

“Make it quick,” their Avery called.

“Yeah, yeah,” O’Bailey called back. He gave Hunter Gus a warm smile. “Hey.”

Gus spoke up first. “Uh—hey? Congratulations on your win, man.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks. Um. I wanted to ask… is this your first con? I haven’t seen the two of you around, and the Cosmic Frontier Connecticut con scene isn’t exactly packed.”

“Yeah. It is our first.” Hunter squinted at him. What was his angle? “Why?”

“Thought so. No reason, just wondering.” He smiled that warm smile again. “Your costumes are really good—especially for a first con.”

Gus slapped his forehead. “Oh, MAN, I forgot to turn my headset on when we went out there! It lights up,” he explained to O’Bailey.

“Neat! Yeah, I just wanted to say… you know, what you said up there, that was really neat. I think a lot of us… Cosmic Frontier found all of us when we were vulnerable, and gave us something to hold onto. It gave us hope for something better when we were sweaty, awkward teenagers who no one liked.”

“O’Bailey!” the Avery said with exasperated fondness, rolling her eyes, “Come on, they’re announcing the crewmen’s choice winner!”

“One minute!” O’Bailey smiled after her, his expression softening. “Anyway… the people we met through Cosmic Frontier… well, the Cosmic Nerds are my best friends. They’re family.” A grin twitched across his face. “Anyway, all that to say, I’m glad Cosmic Frontier is still reaching teenagers like I was and giving them something to hold onto, the way it did for me.” He gave Hunter a thumbs-up. “I know what it’s like to be an O’Bailey. Seems like you’ve got a great crew already, eh?”

Hunter smiled despite himself. “Yeah. I do.”

Shaari pushed her way out of the auditorium. “Hey! Avery! O’Bailey!”

“Yes?” both sets answered.

Shaari flapped a hand at the Cosmic Nerds. “You guys already won, geeze. You two! Gus and Hunter! Hey! You won crewmen’s choice! Get back in there, they’re doing a picture, and they’ve got your prize.”

“We won?” Hunter asked, bewildered, “But we—we—”

“Spirit of the character’s sometimes more important than the bookline accuracy,” O’Bailey said with a wink, “Sounds like Avery’s speech did a good job rallying the crewmen.”

“Yes!” Gus fist-pumped the air. “Let’s go!” He started towards the door, then stopped. “Uh—well—Hunter—are you feeling up for it?”

“Of course,” Hunter said, and strangely enough, he meant it.

This time on the stage, the stares of the audience didn’t feel quite so piercing. This time, they cheered, and the announcer shook both Hunter and Gus’s hands, directing them to stand for a photo, and presenting them with a bumper sticker of Captain Avery giving a thumbs-up with the speech bubble “Keep Calm, and Don’t Crash the Spaceship.”

A grin split Gus’ face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Hunter nodded. “This is going to look perfect on Camila’s car.”

[softpine]

This might be juvenile, but do you have any tips on not comparing yourself to others? (Especially when it comes to note count or popularity.) I’ve been posting a story for over a year and it hardly gets any traction. It’s tough for me to see new creators post and get hundreds or even thousands of notes. I hate that I’m doing this but don’t know how to quit it!

this is not juvenile!! i struggle with this myself, especially knowing that i hit my peak years ago and i've been on the decline ever since – but only by numbers alone! i'm more proud of my story than i've ever been, i'm more attached to my characters, i'm putting more love and thought into everything, but i had to be realistic with myself and understand that i'll never pull even half the notes i did in 2020. gone are the days when i would wake up to 3 new anons about my story and dms from people every day (i can't believe i used to get overwhelmed by it...) and i would be lying if i said it didn't make me sad sometimes, because we're humans and our brains are practically wired to crave the hit of happy chemicals you get from seeing the stupid number go up 😭 it does feel demotivating. it makes me feel less urgency to post quicker if i convince myself that no one is waiting for me anyway, which means i post less, which means even less people stick around, which makes me post less, and on and on. it's a tough thing for me to come to terms with in all honesty.

but it helps to remember that i would be writing even if no one is reading. and i know that, because i have! i've written entire novel-length fics that i've never published, i've written countless short stories in the frozen pines universe that i'll never post, i've created alternate universes that will never be shown, etc. i do it because the idea is in my head and it needs to Get Out and i'm kinda just a conduit for that. that might not apply to you, and that's okay! everyone is different. the important thing is to really sit down and think about WHY you write and what you get out of it. which part of the process makes you happiest? what makes you feel a sense of fulfillment / satisfaction? play to your strengths. try not to spend your time doing things you think other people will enjoy and instead, spend more time on the things that make you happy. for me, i haaaaate editing and i always have, so lately i've been trying to speed through it a little bit quicker even if it means the final product won't be as appealing to others. (this is still a work in progress for me...) i have more fun when i experiment with different writing styles, which might not appeal to others because it takes longer and i don't really have a recognizable style, but i don't care anymore because i'm having fun! ask yourself what YOU want from your story, and then write for yourself and only yourself.

essentially what i'm saying is: there will ALWAYS be people more popular than you, and there's no guarantee that when you find the popularity you seek, you'll be able to keep it. so you need to find some sort of intrinsic motivation to continue or you'll just keep comparing yourself to others forever and you'll deny yourself the joy of creation! "comparison is the thief of joy" could not be more true!!

[joshfuckingkiszka]

𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣 𝔐𝔶 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 - 𝔇ℜ𝔚

drw x f!reader

this one is sweet and I love it

warnings: mentions of sex and pessimism

THIS BLOG IS 18+ MINORS DNI

taylor's version masterpost

reputation masterpost

☮

I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own I made up my mind, I'm better off bein' alone

Was there something wrong with prioritizing work and school? In your mind, absolutely not. However, whenever you received another invitation to a high school friend’s wedding, it put a seed of doubt in your head. All of these acquaintances had met their true love in college, or high school, or, god forbid, middle school, and where were you? Studying. 

Everyone assured you that everyone blooms in their own time, and comparison is the thief of joy, blah, blah blah. You were only convinced to attend an outdoor wedding in the middle of June with the promise of an open bar and wedding cake. The dress was a mauve purple maxi dress, that compressed your body in a way that made you feel like a goddess (and was sure to make you sweat). The neckline sat below spaghetti straps and wasn’t incredibly showy, but to ensure respect, you wore a light gray shrug cardigan and paired the outfit with white satin pumps. Looking at your reflection instilled a bout of confidence, yet you sighed. What’s that saying? Always a wedding guest, never a bride, or something to that effect. 

The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. You and Caroline had maintained a friendship since Freshman year, where she met Todd, and that was it for the both of them. The ceremony was beautiful and the speeches given by their friends and family were tear jerking. You congratulated the happy couple then immediately made your way to the bar, where you ordered a strong enough cocktail to make you cough at the first sip. 

“Careful there,” a voice interrupted, “I do not know CPR.” 

“Don’t worry, if I stop breathing, let me.” The voice was silent. “Oh, that was a … weird thing to say, I’m sorry.” 

You turned, to make the apology more sincere, and quite enjoyed the view. He was a few inches over six feet, with a mane of dark, curly hair that fell just shy of his shoulders. He said something but your hearing was failing you at the moment. He bumped your shoulder in jest, a smirk shining on his lips. 

Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

A few weeks later, you would have thought you had known Danny your whole life. He certainly felt like he had been there forever, like a friend from Kindergarten you remember fondly, but whose name falls short. He was quick to introduce you to his friends and bandmates, who welcomed you with open arms. 

More than his presence, Danny was like no man you had ever met before. Although neither of you had thought to label what you were, his lips randomly spilled with “baby”s and “honey”s instead of your name, like they were your moniker.  It wasn’t until about a month after your meeting that Danny kissed you for the very first time. It felt so natural, like your lips were where his belonged, where they should stay forever and you would never need to breathe. 

In that moment, every quip or pessimistic remark you had made about love was proven wrong. You were wrong. Nothing ever was or would be more important than Daniel Wagner, and each kiss he continued to plant made you tipsier than any wine or liquor ever could. His hands grasped at your hips like you were the only thing stabilizing him to the earth, reaching into your soul and touching you where you had been so sure had disappeared. Screw anything you thought was worth anything, because this was worth everything, and his lips could have been coated in gold, they were so valuable. 

The opulence that his kiss instilled was just enough of a reason to agree to go with him on a weekend getaway. Of course, he asked, knowing your bag was already packed, and as soon as the “sure” left your lips, he was dragging you to his car. The drive to Gatlinburg wasn’t very long, but you would have given anything to make it longer, to hear his voice sing various 80s tunes, his fingers drumming along on the steering wheel. To have his hand extended over the console, waiting for yours, so he could kiss your knuckles.  

And you move to me like I'm a Motown beat And we rule the kingdom inside my room (inside my room, oh)

The weekend, too, passed quickly. You played board games with him in the warm glow of the fireplace, forced him to watch early 2000s rom-coms (and saw him tear up at Bridget Jones’s Diary), and laid with him under pale moonlight, between flannel bed sheets, listening to the thumping rhythm in his chest. It was almost musical. 

On Monday, you were back at work, aching to go back in time, for just a second, to relive those moments where it was just the two of you. That strange feeling in your chest made you nervous, in a good way. During his regular texts to you that day, Danny casually mentioned a house party one of his friends in another band was throwing, silently asking you to go with him. Of course you would, you would go anywhere with him. 

Your studious days in college didn’t allow much for parties, at all, really. You had managed to attend one that got shut down by the cops, in the first fifteen minutes of your attendance. That had been an omen to you, that you simply just were not meant to be a partier. Danny, oh, he was a natural, much like he was at everything else. You were giddy at the idea of the red plastic cup in your hand, like you were 16 again, and Danny just laughed and kissed your forehead. 

When it got too loud that Danny could no longer hear you, he gently grabbed your hand, leading you to a bedroom upstairs. 

Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff Baby, all at once, this is enough

“If you think I’m having sex with you in here-” 

“No!” He laughed, opening the window. The roof outside was relatively flat, easy enough to maintain sitting on it, and he climbed out. When he steadied himself, he held his hand out for you, and you couldn’t help but smile as you took it. 

As Danny held your body close to his, he pointed out different guests, and told you various pieces of gossip that he had heard. You’d laugh occasionally, but you couldn’t help but lose focus, keeping your gaze on him, but your mind on the thought of him. Finally, that Saturday, at 10:38 P.M., you realized that you were in love with Daniel Wagner. For the first time, you basked in it, let yourself absorb the warmth of sharing a heart with someone. All of the little things about Danny held your focus for longer than you could manage to comprehend. The slope of his nose, each curl in his hair, and those dark eyes, with hints of gold and mischief. 

“-I love you.” You hadn’t meant to interrupt him. But the smile on his face told you he didn’t really mind. 

“I love you too, baby.” He leaned in for a kiss, effectively sealing the deal. Danny owned you, but you owned him too.

And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

〚taglist〛

gvf: @doodle417, @brokenbellz, @gretavanfleas, @pyrojoshy, @greta-van-chaos, @xserenax-13, @hayley1623, @kdarling1, @autumns30, @keighoe, @chalametpwk, @sammysvanfeet, @shawnsthighs, @gretavanbitches, @sammiejane22, @gretavanbestie, @jordierama, @alexxavicry, @spark-my-nature, @rainy-darling

danny: @loofypoofy

[tinkerbellinpullys]

Okay. I’m for real logging out of tumblr for at least a few days. I need to remember how to love myself without comparing myself to everyone on here 😮‍💨

What’s that stupid quote? Comparison is the thief of joy? I’m trying to steal my joy back.

I’ll be back… probably.

[nkogneatho]

writers on this app, remember that "comparison is a thief of joy." it is okay to admire someone else's writing but don't get discouraged and compare your work to theirs because you are two different people and you have different approach of writing. yes, you are very talented and your writing is beautiful. it is disheartening to see your work not getting recognized or appreciated but it will someday. by that time, you are your first audience and as long as that piece of work makes you feel good for you gace your best, it is all that matters. you are enough and so is your wtitings. so appreciate yourself and be kind to yourself.

[honeysucklethornsandalligtrhorns]

Lex's List: Truths, Advice, Quotes, Mantras, & Words to Live By:

Fuck it, we ball.

Take it easy, but take it.

Life is not measured in a series of wins and losses; some things just are.

Don't approach a horse from the rear, a cow from its side, or a fool from any direction.

Perform random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.

Be gentle with yourself. You are still learning.

Be gentle with your past self. They were still learning.

Treat yourself as you would treat your daughter.

We all die, you either kill yourself or get killed.

Fuck around and find out.

To accept queerness, disability, neurodivergence, mental illness, differing religions, differing cultures, and a differing world, is to accept 'weirdness' and learn how to properly educate yourself on new (sometimes only to you) ideas, subjects, concepts, ways of life, etc..

One essential way to properly educate yourself on new ideas, subjects, concepts, ways of life, etc., is by listening to the stories and experiences of people who are of that specific group, from them themselves.

"Because I'm sexy! And chubby, man." "Why aren't you on a diet?" "Because I like to eat, is that such a crime?"

There are two types of anger-- explosive and implosive.

Intrusive thoughts are not from you, your brain is a wrinkly hunk of fat with lightning in it and it doesn't always know what it's doing. Just let them pass on and don't dwell on them.

Maybe they're just new at it.

You need to love yourself before you try to love others.

Saying sorry doesn't guarantee forgiveness. It's an offering, not a fix-all.

Trust, like respect, is earned.

In that sense, respect & trust can be given and taken away. They are privileges. You have to uphold them.

Phases are a natural part of life. Embrace them.

Everybody talks.

Whatever you do, there is a child out there doing it better than you.

Comparison is the thief of joy.

Everything is a social construct because we live in a society.

Family is not just blood or genetics.

It's okay to need help, but clean up your own messes.

If you leave towels crumpled up instead of spreading them properly, they won't dry correctly.

If you leave issues untouched instead of addressing them and communicating, they won't dry correctly. They will fester.

Water damage is real. Clean up your spills.

This is your only body. Take care of it.

At the end of the day, it's only meat, fluids, electricity, and bone.

You have free will for a reason.

Homosexuality is present in over 1,500 species. Homophobia is present in one.

Never make assumptions.

Fact check everything.

Do not get involved in drama that isn't yours.

It's just fabric, get over yourself (in regards to judgment of others' clothing).

It's just fat, get over yourself (in regards to judgment of other people).

It's just skin, get over yourself (in regards to judgment of other people).

Admitting you were wrong takes more balls than arguing over who's right.

Ask first.

Mean what you say and say what you mean.

Use deodorant.

Vaccinate your kids.

If you can afford it, go to therapy.

Don't expect rewards for basic human decency.

Healthy, safe, and well-informed sex education is vital and should be taught in schools.

Don't purposefully walk into a strip club and then act shocked and offended to find strippers.

The axe forgets, but the tree remembers.

Your ancestors looked like you, and they all managed to get laid. There's hope.

Spite is the world's greatest motivator.

Do it bored.

If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

You are the light. It's not on you, it's in you. Don't you ever in your motherfucking life dim your life for nobody. Don't you ever stop being who you are and dimming your light for none of these motherfuckers out here.

Art should calm the disturbed and disturb the calm.

Thousands of years ago, ancient peoples got bored.

There's a likelihood that you are not the first in your family line to be queer.

Nine days before the Wright brothers' flight, it was predicted that man would not achieve flight for another million years.

To love and be loved-- that alone is what makes this lifetime bearable.

Those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.

Language is fucking weird and accents are natural.

To laugh is to feel such joy you cannot contain it.

90-year-olds still go on dates. You will find someone.

Don't put metal in the microwave.

Taking 'unnecessary' precautions is favorable to getting unnecessarily hurt.

You can switch religions whenever you want.

And the universe said I love you/ And the universe said you have played the game well/ And the universe said everything you need is within you/ And the universe said you are stronger than you know/ And the universe said you are the daylight/ And the universe said you are the night/ And the universe said the darkness you fight is within you/ And the universe said the light you seek is within you/ And the universe said you are not alone/ And the universe said you are not separate from every other thing/ And the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code/ And the universe said I love you because you are love.

To be willfully ignorant is to welcome death.

The Nation that makes a great distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.

Coercion is not consent.

Make sure you have a safe word set in place.

Grief does not disappear. You simply grow around it. You live with it.

Your conscience is a triangle. It pokes you when you do something wrong. If you ignore it enough, it'll smoothen out and become a circle. You won't feel the pokes anymore.

To live is not to survive.

Change your perspective, even if you think you're seeing clearly.

Don't be a dick to kids.

Money may not buy happiness, but it buys comfort.

First, you have to forgive yourself.

Don't panic. Panic drowns thought.

Carelessness is to die.

Your art hot like potato chip.

Remember to take your meds + drink water + eat a snack + unclench your jaw.

If you wouldn't take their advice, don't take their criticism.

'Bad' art that's made with passion is better than 'good' art that has no soul.

Hate is a learned trait. No one is born intolerant.

Love was the law and religion was taught.

Arrive early.

Just because someone looks like you does not make them a friend; just because someone does not look like you, or is unfamiliar, does not make them an enemy.

There are different temperatures and steeping times needed for different types of teas. If you get it wrong, your tea will turn out flavorless or bitter.

Don't store raw meat next to vegetables.

You can't 'just cut the mold' off of soft cheeses, fruits/veggies, or most dairy products.

Boiled water is not the same thing as boiling water.

Bake flour to remove the bacteria. Boil water to remove the bacteria. Put toxic things (such as tarantulas) in boiling water and boil for at least an hour to remove the toxins.

If you don't take yourself seriously, neither will others.

Defeatism is to die.

We are made of stardust.

Never make generalizing statements.

If small things bring you joy, fill your home with small things.

To be cringe is to be free.

Punch 'em in the throat.

[rachellaurengray]

20 Self-Compassion Reminders

We all face those moments when self-doubt creeps in, making it hard to be kind to ourselves. Here are 20 reminders to help you embrace your uniqueness and practice self-compassion, especially on tough days:

Your emotions are your teachers: Listen to what they’re trying to tell you.

Flaws are features: Own them; they make you uniquely you.

Remember, even superheroes have off days: It’s okay to feel human.

Treat yourself like a best friend: Give yourself the same kindness you offer others.

Dance like no one’s watching: Embrace joy without self-criticism.

Turn “should” into “could”: Give yourself permission to choose.

Your pace is perfect: There’s no rush; you’re on your own timeline.

Mistakes are plot twists in your story: They add depth to your narrative.

Self-doubt is just a roommate: Acknowledge it, but don’t let it take over.

Comparison is the thief of joy: Celebrate your journey instead.

Give yourself a mental health day: Rest is as vital as productivity.

Create a ‘failure’ scrapbook: Document your mistakes as stepping stones.

Reframe “I can’t” to “I’ll try”: Embrace a mindset of possibility.

Let go of the ‘perfect’ outcome: Enjoy the process instead.

Be your own cheerleader: Celebrate your quirks and triumphs.

Remember, it’s okay to not have it all figured out: Life is a journey of discovery.

Practice radical acceptance: Embrace where you are right now.

Turn negative self-talk into a positive mantra: Flip the script.

Surround yourself with positivity: Curate your space with uplifting vibes.

You are a work in progress: Embrace the beauty of your evolving self.

[wndstrrrry]

can you elaborate more on gilbert feeling like a burden to serge, how aware is serge of that and how does it impact their relatioship?

how does serge's refusal to acknowledge his own issues (especially comparing them to gilbert and thinking gilbert is worse) impact their dynamic?

how aware is gilbert of serge's own trauma?

do you write gilbert as having bpd in this universe, and if you do, how does his symptoms manifest?

good morning once again and welcome to the horrors :) long post again, i love answering these they give me life ... anyway, warning for mentions of self-harm below the cut! specifically for number 4.

1. burden

he has been feeling like such for a while i would say, this dates back to when they first started dating, he feels like serge is doing too much protecting him, he feels like every time serge tries to pull him out of the dirty water he just drags him in more, he feels like it's a sisyphean effort, something pointless, something that will doom them both in the end no matter what.

he doesn't have hope for the future nor today, he just doesn't have hope in general! he's struggling!

serge WANTS to help him, he WANTS to see gilbert get better, to go to therapy, to eat better, to just get out of bed if that's all he can do in a single day, he just wants his love to be okay, and it ends up in lots of arguing. not that either of them are to blame, i would say ... but you know, it's rough! it's rough to WANT to help someone who clearly doesn't want to be helped. gilbert will extend his hand back and then slap serge's away because it's scary.

it's a group effort, especially after the accident because gilbert OF COURSE needs MORE help with basic stuff (getting dressed, getting out of bed, reaching things or transferring, and he has a hard time with self-care -known fact, i'm afraid- so there are a bunch of reminders that have to be made throughout the day ...) and serge wants to give him the space to learn because he's NOT a little kid, he's a boy, he's technically and legally an adult so of course he wants to get some of that independence back, but man ... if gilbert won't even try getting out of bed, isn't he supposed to step in and make him? he feels guilty. they both feel guilty.

2. comparison is the thief of all joy

gosh, again, serge thinks he's not in such a bad state in comparison to gilbert. he's convinced that "as long as he's not breaking down every day he's fine". there's an imbalance of letting gilbert dump HIS worries, woes and tears all day on him and never getting to do the same, not that it does much anyway ... gilbert is bad at comforting others, he has always been, serge knows this and it's okay with it, but he wishes he could say more. gilbert wishes he could say more, too.

it's just an imbalance in general, because gilbert can TELL serge is not having a good time but doesn't know what to do, and in an attempt to relate he just goes "well you know sometimes i feel like shit because [mentions a very terrible thing like a trivial fact] you know?" and serge feels like he has to make him forget, even if gilbert /really/ doesn't mind remembering those things at random times, because it's normal for him! this is his day to day! he's been plagued with memories and flashbacks since day 1! they're debilitating sometimes but other times it's just like "oh, this happened you know? it's fine." and it really is fine a lot of the time!

serge is a pillar, long story short, and unconsciously gilbert keeps feeding into that idea but he doesn't know what to do other than to shut up and let serge experience his sadness in silence hoping it does something. anything.

3. serge's trauma

i mean, he knows serge's aunt is a dick, that she hates them both and wishes they would burn in hell for centuries to come, he's aware of his parents' passing and of his dynamic with them, but serge doesn't really talk ill of lizabeth nor any person in his family (his aunts) despite it all, so gilbert can just assume stuff with context clues. also he's obviously aware of the racism serge faced, because he was there for it too! so ... yeah ...

serge feels like it's a sin to mention his parents around gilbert, even if they both lack them nowadays, gilbert has never had a parent, serge did, and it feels wrong to talk about them unless gilbert asks (which is ... surprisingly common. he keeps asking serge to tell him about his time in tyrol, his childhood there and stuff. he doesn't ask about lizabeth because HE hates lizabeth, serge is fine with it.)

4. bpd

gilbert HAS bpd! he also has autism and (c?)ptsd, probably something else i can't remember, but alas. he's not really diagnosed because he didn't say much when he was attending therapy at the hospital, he was just coloring and doing little clay animals because he really, really hates talking. especially to strangers. and the therapist was a stranger. there are signs, he just ... you know ... isn't much help. the ptsd is an obvious one, the autism seems to be pretty obvious too, but the bpd is harder to diagnose considering he's not helping.

nowadays, he's a lot calmer because the environment is MUCH more adapted to HIM, so he's not in a constant need of survival and he can relax and actually behave like a "normal" boy, serge can see more of his personality come through and it's really really nice! he's a nice guy.

but when he was younger, as we've seen, he was a lot more explosive and impulsive, he was a wreck, a ticking bomb, (unintentionally) toxic in simple words. he was jealous, he would engage in self-harm a LOT. i'm talking cutting, burning, hitting, anything he could think of he did when things didn't go his way ... this wasn't related to serge only, this was also related to auguste.

it got especially bad when he was a kid (ages 8-10), during christmas season and during the adam stuff. he just has seasons where things get worse. but now he's doing better, at least ...

it's worth mentioning that, in this AU, laconblade is NOT a boarding school. so when the school day was gone he went home to auguste. every day. and the environment was just horrid even with serge asking him on dates (which was a rarity on itself) and talking him out of hurting himself via text. it was really hard. they had many issues back in the day.

but love prevails ...