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facingecologicalcollapse · 2 years ago

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{f.e.c.}

This is a blog/writing/collecting/archiving project I’m starting, mostly for myself, and hopefully it is helpful for anyone who finds themselves spiraling and confused in the same way. It would be cool if this became a collaborative project some day, or the scaffolding or a contributive resource for a decentralized learning and political education network.

I’m starting this project to discuss, consider, and try to answer one main quesiton - how do we face ecological collapse?

Like really, face it head on, look the facts dead in the eye, and deal with those emotions. Process them in a way that ‘makes sense’,’ on a human scale, on the scale of our individual lifetimes, and in the context of our collective struggle towards restoring balance within our ecologies.

It feels too big a question to really answer, but I have found some reprieve and refocusing in asking it, re-asking it, re-framing it, and in deciding when to set it down.

This line of inquiry really started after I read the paper “Deep Adaptation” by Jem Bendell. He writes about his defection from sustainability science, and the general delusional, false-positivity that has taken so many academic spaces by grip. the ‘carbon emissions have risen by xxx amount this year BUT there are new recycling bins installed in every building on campus!’ Type of unbalanced comparison bullshit. He also writes about deep adaption as a framework to utilize in our climate-change related thinking, centering the inevitability of extinction. This piece both unsettled and comforted me, for its realistic dealing with our conditions, and with the reminder that extinctions are! Inevitable, regardless of humanity’s impact on the rest of the planet. The real variables are not IF the next extinction will come, but HOW, WHEN, at what pace?, under what circumstances? With what enablers and accelerants? With what harm reductive and slowing measures?

Even though species* is a terribly fraught category, as a collective with similar physiology, who contain political + economic systems of domination and control, we are likely in a predicament different from every other mass extinction this planet has ever seen. We are struggling, suffering, drowning, and grappling with the problem/question of CONTROL. Control over, dominance over, other people. Systems of control are marginalizing genders, marginalizing ethnicities, and seek to conquer land, and view land as inert. Object oriented ontologies reify control and control reifies O.O.O. There are many ways to try and summarize this nefarious and traumatic record of colonial patriarchy. The point is, this is a very different type of extinction than say, the pre-Cambrian explosion. The sea slugs and crustaceans weren’t building up industry on the back of enslaved and exploited workers, and a hostile domicile culture on the back of sadistic rape culture. Maybe there was some other type of fuck shit going on but how are we really to know. Again, the point is, we are maybe very likely in a novel kind of situation, grappling with control.

This feels important to name here, and try and explore more later, especially as it relates to the wave of “climate solutions” and the nausea of green-washed technopilia that has saturated most ‘academic’ and ‘political’ spaces of ‘integrity.’

Bendell’s drop out and tell that shit like it really is, found me in the thick of my graduate program in environmental communications at St*nfucc University. My program itself was alright, but couched within the most mind numbing and infuriating surroundings in the Stanford School of Earth.

home to Herbert Hoover’s geologic training before he went off to be a diamond miner in apartheid South Africa. Home to a sizeable chunk of the global fossil fuel wealth. Headed by a petroleum engineer who instructed all underlings to vote against fossil fuel divestment. That stanford school of earth, to name just a few choice details.

Anyways, in the depth and deep bullshit of all of that, Deep Adaptation as framework helped me hold my head together. Helped me start to ask different questions, questions that actually opened up space for how much grief I was holding in and desperate to feel. I was able to start asking question that I actually wanted to find answers to, that I believe it is worthwhile to try and find answers to. Not just “how do we stop climate change?” “How do we fight climate change?” But, what really is “climate change,” “what is happening in our changing global climate?” “If extinction is inevitable, what is truly different about this one?” “How did these changes come to be?” “What can realistically be done about them in the time we have on this earth as individuals? In the projected time we have left to make an impact as a collective?” “If our ecologies are collapsing, and many of these changes are irreversible, how do we face these realities with a sense of sober realism, purpose, intention, and focus?” “What are our goals within a landscape of imminent mass death?” “How should I organize my thoughts and feelings and life plans in the context of all of this?” “What is beyond my control? What do I need to release control thinking over, and try to accept and reckon with?”

Full transparency, asking many of these questions precipitated intense mental breakdowns, and physical symptoms that would require their own blog to really get into. The act of asking these questions, with the naive thinking that I myself, an arrogant and sickly individual, could answer alone, nearly brought me to my demise. A lot of information was harvested and continues to be harvested from this process, and I am still learning how to ask these types of questions more generatively, more communally, and with less (ideally NO) martyr-complex type hyper-individualism.

This is a first brush stroke, in what I anticipate to be a winding and iterative writing process. Maybe I will come back and edit this, maybe it will stay just as stream-of-consciousness as it is now.

I think I understand why, collectively, publicly, in most media outlets, collapsing ecologies are not discussed with more frankness. The information is profoundly upsetting, and can be panic inducing. Where the line really is between delusion, distraction, and harm reduction, I cannot really tell anymore. Most if not all of major media outlets and governmental entities seem averse, if not plainly inept to discuss these matters with regularity and integrity. I don’t think that this scrappy little blog is qualified or trying to try and fill that niche. But it is the impetuous for my inquiries, it is the context within which I gather information and educational resources, and it is also the bane of my existence as an artist and environmental commutations writer. “Why we turn away from ecological collapse?” Is a question that deserves its own time and space. Unfortunately we are in no shortage of source material to demonstrate all the ways people ignore and deflect the changing reality of planetary conditions.

It’s hard to know what’s scarier, what it will take for transformative change to take place, or what will happen if it doesn’t.

We know that we have to abolish patriarchal racial capitalism, decolonize, decarbonize, and liberate our food systems, and ways of life from extractive economies.

ANDDDD it’s the 59th second of the 59th minute of 11th hour, and capitalists, rapists, racist abusers, patriarchs, and transphobes still want to play fkn games!

Defending ugly ass death cult ass destructive ass sinking ships of systems.

Like……

Anyways, Regardless of this disturbing state of collective consciousness, there’s also the quagmire of general confusion, lack of coordination, and de-fanged / disabled radical political movements.

What’s also been anxiety inducing to me for like a decade straight, is the fact that we know urgent action is needed, and its not always clear what that action is. And if there’s some idea of solutions, there’s usually a fucked matrix of obstacles, opponents, and life /health risks.

Even if we have all the information possible, all the possible solutions (technological and convivial) that could ever be dreamed up,

If all that is already on the table, would we still have the spiritual and communicative capacity to activate the changes necessary for a harm reductive transition out of this era of extractive growth industrialism, and towards a chance a living planet continuing past these horizons?

My take is this — nothing, none of it, absolutely shit, is possible if we are not actually facing ecological collapse for what it is - our inevitable death.

This inevitability as beyond our control, as always programmed into the clock of the universe, as sure-fire as our individual morality. The human species cannot go on for ever, life on earth definitely cannot go on for ever, and the sun in this galaxy will not burn on forever. So what then, can we release control then? Can we release that icky type of trans-humanist, conquer death type attitude towards “fighting” or “stopping” climate change then? And start asking questions that we actually need answers to?

Facing ecological collapse involves opening up to grief, opening up to lack of control, as a means of seeking grounding and refocusing our intentions.

We aren’t going to stop climate change. And there is no use in “fighting” it, simply for the fact that the universe is an intricate dance of constant motion. Controlling dams, controlling forests, controlling fossil fuels, that has all been done already, and these now are the impacts. They cannot be undone, so why now continue on, introducing more control mindset into the ether. De-salinating water, capturing carbon from the atmosphere with fossil fuel powered machines, etc. etc.

What is ecological collapse?

How can we face it?

What does facing collapsing ecologies mean for me? My life? What feelings are activated?

What am I going to do about these feelings?

What do I care about? What do I want to protect? What will help me be prepared to continue staying vigilant to my changing conditions?

Am I at peace with the inevitability of my own death?

If not, will I ever be? Do I have the resources and support to grapple with that fact?

If not, why was I conditioned to fear death, to avoid and ignore it? Was I conditioned to hate the elderly? To hate disabled people?

The questions really run on and in, and interconnect, and collapse again.

A mentor and friend mentions often, that the exercise of asking the questions is what keeps us curious, and keeps us present. We may very well never find concrete or fixed answers, but by continuing to ask, we will get closer to the questions we actually want answers to.

My interest is truth telling, and mental sobriety. I don’t think any of what’s coming will actually be possible to fully deal with. Really the most informed climate scientists among us are scared shitless. I ask these questions to try and feel better on a day to day basis. I read and listen and write in hopes that the process of information sharing is helpful to me later on, or helpful to others.

The nightmares of current and on-coming mass-death are beyond hard to grapple with. Really actually paralyzing. Sometimes I am grounded by mediations on the inevitability of my own death, in any timeline, and occasionally I am inspired at the nuance of the times we are living in. The more challenging our conditions, the more complex the problems we are faced with overcoming. My friend told me that we, the people coming of age in this time of exponential change, are being asked to things that have never been done before, never been asked. Worlds have ended, time and time again, and yet we all sense that this ending feels different. It’s the threat and fear of something so total, and so horrible. Collective suicidality manifest. Yes it is mostly paralyzing, and nausea inducing, and scary. I also prefer to face what is than live in media and advertising inducted cognitive dissonance.

We’re being asked to face things that have never been asked at this scale. And while the process of asking these questions is usually so fucking terrifying, there is a sliver of inspiration in that.

The plague of reformism and assimilation have thus far capitulated and captured so much of our resistance to systems of domination, and the threat of global annihilation may very well create opportunities to truly unroot core ecology collapsing algorithms of control and commodification.

Ok onward now to these writings, scratchings, and collections.

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manthrochap-blog · 2 years ago

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well well well. look who finally figured out what email he used for his old blog....

so, hi. the last post on this blog was from december 2016, so... i’d expect most of my followers are inactive and the few people i follow who are still active probably unfollowed ages ago, unless they never cleared out their accounts... but i thought i’d make a little post here as a sort of update and finally offer a means of contact

so. i’m freshly 23 years old now (jesus CHRIST). i’m not using this blog anymore, so i won’t be updating my bio/about/whatever to reflect that, but i’ll note i exclusively use he/him now. while homestuck is still constantly in my periphery (more literal than that sentence should be, there’s a dave strider vinyl figure in a bin almost within eyesight of my desk chair...) i haven’t really engaged with it in... years... other than a recent look at its unfinished japanese translation, seeing as i started learning the language a few years ago and got curious. i still stan aradia hardcore, btw, nothing in life will Ever change that

as you can probably (hopefully) predict from the fact that i was 17 when i last used this blog (and 13-16 when i used it actively) and i am now 23, this blog, uh... would not be a great reference point for determining what kind of person i am now. i won’t write it off as completely detached from my present identity, and i’m not saying this because there’s some sort of “dirt” you could dig up from looking through my posts (there... really isn’t, just a whole lot of cringe), i’d just like to make it clear that judging the present me by whatever the hell was wrong with me when i was a teenager would leave you with a lot of inaccuracies about me. being a teenager sucks and you’ve got way more things wrong with you mentally than any other stage of your life and i’m happy to report many of those things wrong with me have resolved themselves with time, but also, the cringe. the cringe. my god the cringe, please for the love of god know that while i am still cringe i am not as bad as i once was

anyways, what i am trying to communicate is that while the person who ran this blog and myself may technically inhabit the same body, we’re not quite the same person; and yet, this is still my body, my face, my words, my thoughts, all contained here, even if i no longer understand those thoughts and feelings and words, no longer feel like the face depicted is my face. going through and making every single one of my old posts unrebloggable would be not only tedious but a ridiculous, gargantuan task, considering my post count is just short of 50,000 and no matter how many of those are reblogs that i wouldn’t need to alter, it took long enough just deleting a bunch of old selfies that i truly don’t think it would be worth it

thus, my request is this: my art is all fair game, but any (old) personal posts or selfies i'd like left alone. no likes, no reblogs, just let them be, please. while i've left a good portion of the latter up for posterity, i'd prefer you not even look for them. likewise, i've gone through and deleted all instances of my deadname; do not try to seek it out. or i may smite you in real life

other than all of that, i'm willfully leaving this blog up as an archive. please don't abuse that, please respect my requests regarding what i am and am not okay with being interacted with, and please keep a healthy barrier in your mind between who i was as a teenager and my new, adult self, because even i don't know what i was going on about back then

with all of that finally out of the way, if you're looking to contact me for whatever reason, you'll find my new blog in my next (and probably final, ever, for this blog) reblog. that post is a plea for a friend of mine who i miss and have completely lost contact with to come and talk with me again, if they'd like, so i'm hoping that posting this here and giving them a way of contacting me might help if they ever come back and look at this blog, which was the impetus for me hunting down my own log-in info to begin with, though not the sole reason (i really did want to purge this fucking thing of its evils even if only a little i've been meaning to do that for ages)

i don't intend to ever deactivate that blog just as i won't be deactivating this one, but as a failsafe, you can also email nisutitja @ gmail, because i don't really wanna just... put my discord where everyone can see it. that is not my main email, but i do own that address. might be a little late on the response but it should be reliable enough

#veeeery long post huh... and probably repetitive #but i was swapping between writing this and cleaning out my blog so my train of thought. was not completely on the rails the whole time #anyways. time to rb that post real quick

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heraldofzaun · 3 years ago

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This is my “Viktor has never been a stereotypical evil villain, you guys are just mean” post.

Hi. Well. That says it all, really, but I guess I should elaborate. I think that Viktor has always been a victim of society [cue Joker meme], it’s just that what society has shifted over the course of his lore update.

With new lore, it’s very clearly Piltover casting him out for his (in my opinion, pretty unethical from the get-go) ideas on free will/worker safety/etc. and that subsequently making him worse. But with his previous lore - what I run off of on this blog - I’ve seen a lot of commentary about how he’s always just been “evil”, or that his motivations weren’t defined, etc. And while I can agree that his old lore certainly has less of a word count (5x less, actually) and doesn’t make his motives crystal-clear, it’s just not true that his original incarnation was just a villainous scientist. (Nor is it true that he was perceived as one by his old fans!) It takes a little bit of looking at Blitzcrank’s lore, and the Journal of Justice (hey, remember that?) to see, but it’s there... So, here goes. I’m sorry for how long this ended up being (2k words!) - it ended up touching on a lot more than just Viktor.

Viktor’s always been stolen from. (Except for Blitzcrank’s newest lores, which contradict Viktor’s new lore, which... That’s a topic for another time.) It’s always been Professor Stanwick Pididly (now Professor Stanwick) who’s done the stealing - originally, he was a professor at Zaun’s “prestigious College of Techmaturgy”. In new lore, he’s a professor at an unnamed academy in Piltover. I think the best way to track the new/old changes is bullet-points, rather than writing this all out. Tumblr doesn’t allow T-charts, sadly.

Professor Pididly in old lore:

Zaunite professor.

Stole Blitzcrank (well, the accolades for developing Blitz’s sentience) from Viktor and Viktor’s doctoral team. (While this is headcanon, I’ve always assumed that Stanwick was Viktor’s (and Viktor’s team’s) doctoral advisor. I can’t quite imagine how else he’d pull off stealing a group project like that.) Viktor subsequently withdrew from the college and “barricaded himself in his private laboratory”. (Which is his house in my personal take, because really - what sort of doctoral student can afford a lab?)

Blitzcrank’s case reached Zaun’s legal system, resulting in a “legal maelstrom” (Blitz’s original lore) that ended with Stanwick presumably being legally declared Blitzcrank’s creator.

Blitzcrank’s lore states that “most now know the truth” in regards to who his creator is. This is important for later, so stick that in your back pocket.

Pididly is referred to as “Professor Pididly” in JoJ issues 3, 18, and 23, which are given the dates of August of 20CLE, March of 21 CLE, and June of 21 CLE.

Side note: According to Orianna’s judgment, which is dated May of 21 CLE - stay with me here, it’ll make sense - Blitzcrank entered the League “years before”. As League at this time was mostly running in time with the real world, this makes sense - Blitzcrank was a 2009 champion and Orianna was released in 2011. Judgments seem to be dated to a few days before a champion’s release, in order to tie with the lore - one had to be “Judged” before made a champion... but I’m rambling. Anyways, years before, back pocket.

Is referred to as “Chairman Pididly” in JoJ issue 27, dated August of 21 CLE. “Chairman” seems to be a title given to those in political power in Zaun. Another example is Chairman Magnus Dunderson, Zaun’s “Chief Executive” (issue 5). (I could’ve sworn that there is canonically a “Board of Executives” in old lore Zaun, but scrubbing through the JoJ on the wiki hasn’t turned it up - just Blitzcrank’s lore mentioning the “Council of Zaun”. Maybe it was fanon? Anyways.) Back pocket!

Also stole some work from Viktor in order to revive Urgot. Urgot’s revival was reported on in issue 3 of the JoJ, and the confirmation that it was from Viktor’s work is in Viktor’s original lore.

Professor Stanwick (Pididly? I feel like they ditched his last name because it was “too silly”, also because Stanwick sounds British-adjacent anyways and that’s Piltover’s “thing” - but anyways) in new lore:

Piltovian professor.

Stole Blitzcrank from Viktor alone, who made the robot to help clean up a specific chemical spill. Viktor went to Zaun for a few weeks and came back to find that Stanwick had “held a symposium on Blitzcrank and presented Viktor's research as his own”. Viktor subsequently continued on his studies, culminating with him later being expelled for “violating basic human dignity”. Viktor returns to a laboratory that he had in Zaun.

Blitzcrank’s case is solely a university matter. Viktor petitions Jayce to help support his claim, but Jayce is Jayce and doesn’t help out. The “matter [is] decided in Professor Stanwick’s favor”.

Blitzcrank’s lore doesn’t really say anything about if people know that Viktor made him (them, technically, but Riot doesn’t get to make the robot non-binary), but I guess it’s implied in the 3rd iteration? (That would be the first new one, after the IoW retcon making most champions’ 2nd lores being the same lore with any reference to the titular League of Legends removed.) He works with Viktor in that one. It doesn’t fit with Viktor’s updated lore at all, actually, because it mentions Stanwick absolutely zero times. (A post for another day...)

Has nothing to do with Urgot, since Urgot’s different now.

So, the general plot of “professor rips off a student” is there, it’s just got an added layer of “professor rips off a foreign/out-group student” in new lore to tie into the overarching idea of Piltover exploiting Zaun. (Is Zaun considered foreign? Yes? No? It’s sort of textually implied sometimes to be another city, but can it actually be when it’s physically underneath Piltover? Is the metaphor in new lore a class thing, then? Is it both? Am I supposed to take Viktor’s Russian accent into account when reading this text? I don’t know.) Anyways, so far so... same, in the broad strokes. Unless Viktor’s villainy in old lore is specifically because someone from his city ripped him off, I don’t know how you can compare new/old lore and say that old painted him as a villain.

But what about the everything else I put there? We’re getting there - that’s part of Viktor’s in-universe stuff. I’m taking a quick detour out of universe, to Jayce’s very first lore...

Which had Viktor stealing a techmaturgical device from Jayce. While I can’t cite this, sadly - thank you, Riot deleting the old forums and me not having the patience to look through archives at the moment - there was a backlash around this on the forums. Why would Viktor, a character who’d been stolen from, steal in turn? So Jayce’s second lore, the one that most people were familiar with before the new lore update, was made. Now Viktor stole a crystal after trying to partner with Jayce, Jayce was less well-established as an inventor, he had a bit more character... All good things. (Also, this is probably where the new lore direction of them being former college colleagues come from.)

Also, as an aside: this is the first use I can see of crystals specifically being described as arcane power sources... The only other discussion of magical crystals was the Brackern... which was then merged into magical crystals having to be from the Brackern... Which means that...

But anyways! Clearly Viktor fans didn’t see him as a villain in 2012, or at least not one that would victimize others in the same way that he’d been hurt. They made such a fuss about it that Jayce’s lore was changed to paint Viktor more sympathetically! (When’s the last time that there’s been that much backl- oh. It’s Seraphine again. Anyways.) So, again, Viktor’s perception as an evil scientist mostly seems to have come from people who weren’t really familiar with his lore. So... case closed?

Except that I also want to talk about in-universe things! Everything that I told you to put in your back pocket! Because this post is already over a thousand words and I have thrown myself firmly into this vortex.

Viktor’s victimization by society [Joker meme] is actually probably worse in old lore, which is a fact that I think has been pretty overlooked. While new lore Viktor gets kicked back down to Zaun and gets his work stolen in academia - with Stanwick presumably never being questioned on whether or not he made Blitzcrank, because there’s that whole “Zaunites are bad” thread that is both in and out of universe... Old lore Viktor sure does get it worse, although I admit that this requires some interpretation of canon. His thing with Blitzcrank was, again, a “legal maelstrom” - and with Blitzcrank being considered a Zaunite celebrity before this court case, it seems relatively easy/logical to infer that this maelstrom was a very public case.

So all of Zaun gets to see Viktor crash and burn in court. I’d say that’s a bit worse than just academia seeing it, as is the case in new lore.

And then there’s Blitzcrank’s lore flat-out saying that “most now know the truth” about who made him. (While this lore does predate Viktor’s existence - isn’t it odd to think about a Blitzcrank made by a faceless team of generic doctoral students, rather than Viktor... and a faceless team of generic doctoral students? - I see no reason not to take it as canonical for Viktor’s original lore. There’d been minor lore touchups before, so if Riot wanted Viktor’s creation of Blitzcrank to be an unknown... they could have edited Blitzcrank’s lore.) But Viktor’s still on the fringes, and nothing in his lore (which, again, was written years after Blitzcrank’s) seems to acknowledge that by the time he enters the League we have confirmation, date-wise, that it’s been years since the truth came out. (Orianna Judgment, etc.) That’s to say: people knowing that Viktor made Blitzcrank does nothing for him - he gets no apologies or anything like that.

Of course, if you take League lore as happening concurrently and nix the Judgments and the League, I guess that this is tenuous - but working within the framework of when he was released, it seems clear to me that the implication of all this lore is (whether it was intended by Riot to be read this way or not) that no one in Zaun cares that Viktor was stolen from. It’s an open secret. No one’s seeking justice for him. But it gets worse...!

So, it’s generally known that Stanwick didn’t make Blitzcrank by the time that the JoJ is running. And he’s just a professor for most of the run of that part of the lore, until... Issue 27. In which he becomes Chairman Pididly, someone who is now implied to have political power. (I have to assume he gets the position due to the political goodwill from Noxus that his revival of Urgot must have brought Zaun, but that’s just interpretation.) But! Even though most people know that Stanwick didn’t make Blitzcrank - that he stole Blitzcrank - he ends up not losing his university job (he’s still Professor Pididly for most of the JoJ, after all) but... gaining political office!

All of this is to say that Zaun is so crooked that you can have the fact that you stole from someone and ruined their life revealed... and get a promotion to government! You can shatter an idealistic man who had a “hope to better society” and make him into someone like the Machine Herald and face absolutely zero repercussions. I think that that is significantly worse than how new lore Viktor’s victimization by Piltover consisted of an academia-only dispute that left him with just some bitterness... New Viktor was, after all, kicked out of Piltovian academia for ethics violations, not for Blitzcrank.

Everything surrounding old lore Viktor is a bit harder to piece together, since you have to look through a few lores and make a few inferences, which is why I think that people don’t realize exactly how bad he had it... (That and time erasing memories, or people being new to the fandom, or people not being interested in Viktor, or...) But he had it bad, and I’m honestly disappointed that we never got to explore much of Zaun’s particular brand of corporate corruption in canon. Now they’re the perpetual underdogs, both victims and villians, and Riot isn’t quite sure how to write them beyond constant exploitation from Piltover. (Even the chem-barons have taken somewhat of a backseat lately in new lore, from what I’ve seen - Piltover seems to be the primary cause of Zaun’s ills, because the combined region is now an upper city/lower city metaphor about class. The chem-barons just seem to be written as a result of Piltover’s ignoring of Zaun - because Zaun seems to be more of an undercity than a sovereign city or state, but that varies depending on whatever piece of lore you’re reading and... Another post, another time.)

So. TL;DR: Viktor’s always been a character who was victimized by a city, be it Zaun or Piltover. Viktor’s always been a character more complex than just a maniacal villain, although it takes more work to see that in his old lore as compared to his new. (His new pretty much screams “we are trying to make him and Jayce morally grey”, after all.) This victimization is arguably worse in old lore, as it’s implied that he went through a very public legal case that ended with Stanwick taking credit for Blitzcrank. In addition to that, Stanwick’s subsequent shift to politics implies that Zaun is so corrupt that most everyone knowing that he’s a thief isn’t an issue at all. He’s untouchable.

Viktor’s always been the result of an idealistic man being crushed by a society that doesn’t care for him and his dreams. That’s nothing new.

#headcanons | beneath the mask #worldbuilding | a smog shrouded city #//lightly seasoned with 'i have my qualms about new lore' seasoning.#//all quotes are from respective lores. i am not fully citing them because if i use apa format for a league meta post i'll simply expire.#//oh also fun fact ionians are referred to as 'peaceniks' by zaunites in that same JoJ issue i pulled the dunderson info from.#//which is cool because that's somewhat canon info (other than zaun being german for fence and some other vague name choices) that...#//zaun was probably intended to be somewhat eastern european flavored from the getgo. so. hc validation.#//admittedly the nik suffix as it is used there is an english variant borrowed from russian/yiddish so... you could argue against me i guess #//but i think that's a much further stretch than my interpretation. anyways i've rambled more than enough.#//you can tell where i started getting super conversational here + when i stopped caring about if i stuck to 'stanwick' or 'pididly'

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memryse · 3 years ago

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are you "making your writing sound deeper than it actually is" or are you actually just drawing good conclusions and thinking that because it's coming to you easily that it's not very deep? because idk i don't want this to feel like a brag, but i'm also very good at essay writing and I used to think the same thing about my stuff? i was like oh this isn't that deep idk why everyone likes it, i didn't spend ages analyzing it to come to these conclusions i just wrote it down! But then I realized after talking with other people (like teachers) that i wasn't making my writing sound deeper than it actually was it was just like that to start with. idk if this makes sense at all, i just mean that you shouldn't view your writing as only surface level because you're probably looking a lot deeper than you realize.

not sure if this is relevant to you, but i don't want to see anyone put their writing down! i've read your analyses and they all seem very well thought out and impressive.

also, PLEASE keep writing analyses and dont think people are getting annoyed with them! i swear that at least i won't! i know you have a last life blog but i'm a mod over at dsmpanalysis. we have like 2.8k followers and literally THOUSANDS of essays archived. it's a different fandom, yes, but it's still in mcytblr and i think it shows that there's tons and tons of people who are into the analysis/meta side of things. Many of the people whose essays are archived by us have moved to LLSMP lately too, so you're not alone. I don't think posting essays/analysis/meta is weird at all and it's probably been one of the primary ways i've interacted with members of mcytblr for months. I love love love this side of fandom and i definitely do not consider it any less than fanartists or fanfic writers :D

anyway this got long O.O -quaranmine

you are so lovely 🥺

it's like. i definitely don't think this entire side of fandom is weird or anything, it's why i joined mcytblr really and i absolutely do not want to be dismissive of all the amazing works others put out. i do apologise if it came off that way, i probably shouldn't be allowed to ramble like that at 3am. it's just a personal concern really; i'm not usually one to contribute much of value to any fandom, so now that i actually am doing something that i'm happy with, part of me is like hm is this worth being proud of or are you attaching way too much value to it. it's more of a fear of overvaluing myself than me simply undervaluing myself, i suppose? but i'm certainly not going to stop posting, so it's all fine anyway :D

#ask

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subsystems · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, I would like to add a point to your syscourse exploration...I think a point that’s not talked about is for traumagenic systems, seeing the endogenic stuff, it feels like a mockery of the pain they went through. It’s not as ‘valid’ of a point as bringing up the DSM definition, but still I think that it’s a factor behind some of the ugliness that goes on

I think that this is a very valid point, actually. It’s a lot more significant than people give it credit. During my deep dive, specifically when I was looking at how syscourse started on Tumblr, one of the main things that “kicked it off” was actually how many people believed endogenics were ridiculing or mocking DID/OSDD and the trauma attached to it.

This is because (controversial statement alert) terms like system, multiple, and multiplicity were never shared between people with and without DID/OSDD...in a widespread way! There actually was a community of non-dissociative plurals and DID/OSDD plurals who shared terminology and spaces, but it was pretty small and isolated at first. They mostly existed in secluded mailing lists before moving to Livejournal and then eventually moving over to Tumblr and Twitter.

I’d highly recommend reading this post on my archive blog. You’ll see that terms like system, multiple, and multiplicity were usually used to exclusively mean DID/OSDD. This was much more widespread. So, when Tumblr allowed these two groups to be exposed to each other, the different terminology usage caused all sorts of confusion. Look at some of the posts below...

“Person #1: Your Headmates/Multiple Systems are bullshit. They do not exist. That is all.

Person #2: Have you ever heard of Dissocaitive Identity Disorder? It’s not made up. It’s a mental illness, it’s in the DSMV and everything.

Person #1: I’m not going after D.I.D. I’m going after Multiplicity.

Person #2: DID is the clinical cause of multiplicity. You can’t attack one without attacking the other. Are there people on here faking headmates? Yes. However there are also many people on here that genuinely have DID, AND therefore will be very distressed by your post.”

(Post from 2015)

“Person #1: Can we fucking stop head mates and multiple systems? That’s making real disorders like schizophrenia and DID seem fun. Stop twisting disabilities to make them seem trendy. Come on now.

Person #2: People with DID are making DID seem trendy 8(”

(Post from 2016)

It’s easy to understand why the people who saw system, multiple, and multiplicity as exclusively DID/OSDD thought that natural multiples were claiming to have DID/OSDD. Because of that, I found so many people with DID/OSDD who expressed that they were hurt by the concept of natural multiplicity. I also found a large amount of people (singlets and DID/OSDD) who believed that natural multiples were people who intentionally roleplayed mental disorders. Many people thought it was meant to be a mockery or ridiculing of DID/OSDD.

Take a look at some of the posts below...

“Explain this, world? Please? I do not understand. I have DID. it sucks. its hard. The Trauma in my life was repeating and excruciating, and it will take years to undo the damage. Everything is hard I ahve mental problems abound and DID happened, to preserve myself. I feel made fun of when people talk about multiplicity, like it can be normal. I feel like they are pretending, or just want to have fun while its a fad. My alters dont get along they dont talk they fuck shit up and dont know how to do the things I do, and nobody except my boyfriend knows who they are.

I dont GET IT AUGH”

(Post from 2014)

“I’m not open about having DID because its generally thought to be some combination of roleplaying, otherkin, and ddlg- largely thanks to the rise of sexual littles and endogenic/natural/kin systems!”

(Post from 2016)

“are some of you aware that you are on a website where people literally think cats, vampires, toddlers, ‘flying dogs’, buildings and such live in their heads, and that defending the ‘rights’ of these attention seekers and fandom roleplayers who appropriate dissociative identity disorder is considered the pinnacle of liberal activism”

(Post from 2012)

“honestly the thing that pisses me off with the natural multiplicity community is how they can’t seem to understand that then entire basis of natural multiplicity is claiming to have the ‘fun’ symptoms of DID/OSDD-1 without the bad symptoms that invariably come with it. it literally started as an internet trend because DID is apparently one of those disorders that people love to fake to seem cool and edgy.

you can’t just claim to have symptoms (ie alters) that exist only in DID/OSDD-1 whilst having none of the symptoms that are inseparable from it. it doesn’t work t hat way. and for fuck’s sake stop linking astraea’s web it’s an unreliable source and pretty much all of the information on it is incorrect and\or extremely outdated.”

(Post from 2016)

Anyways, thanks for sending this ask! I hope you found this stuff interesting. I’ll be talking about it more in my essays and on my archive blog @pluraldeepdive. =)

- Sunflower

#syscourse #sunflower answers #anon #ask #anti-endogenic tw

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emachinescat · 4 years ago

Text

Does It Count as Eavesdropping if You’re Comatose?

A Psych Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 28 / alt. 3 - coma

Summary: They say people who are comatose can still hear what is going on around them. This is what Shawn heard.

Characters | Relationships: Shawn, Henry, Gus, Juliet, Madeline, Lassiter, Jack, Despereaux, Buzz, Woody, Chief Vick | Shawn/Juliet

Words: 3,898

TW: coma

Note: I really hope you enjoy this piece. It was one of the most emotionally taxing, cathartic, and fulfilling pieces I’ve written in a long time. I hope that comes across when you read it.

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

Shawn?

Where’s the doctor? I need to speak to him. Busy, my ass! My son is in a coma. I get that you’re just doing your job. Just… find me someone who can give me an update. … Please.

Hey, bud. I, uh –

Shit.

Shawn, for the love of – what the hell did you think you were doing? Going off on your own like that, not telling anyone where you were going or what you were doing. You knew these people were dangerous, and you still… I know I taught you better than this.

Why, why do you never listen?

***

Hey, Shawn. Don’t think that just because you’re in a coma right now that we’re going to let this go. You’ve pulled some stupid-ass stunts in your time, but this … this takes the cake. And you know you’re supposed to share any cake you get with me. Fifty-fifty split.

We’re partners, Shawn. Why did you go in alone?

Well, all I have to say is that you better wake up soon. The doctors say they are cautiously optimistic that you’ll have a full recovery if you will just wake up. We’re all well aware that you are the laziest time-waster in Santa Barbara, but just this once, will you prove us wrong?

…

Please, Shawn. You’re my best friend. I … I can’t lose you. Just. Just come back, okay?

***

The doctors said that you might be able to hear what we say to you. In my experience, doctors always say that, but, I don’t know. It seems a little weird, don’t you think? I mean, the thought of you lying there, so still that you might be … you know. Anyway. To think that you could actually be hearing everything I’m saying right now is…

It’s actually a little bit embarrassing. Gosh, why do I always ramble like a moron when I’m nervous? This is worse than the movie theater, the first time I asked you out. Remember that? Now that was humiliating.

I know your dad and Gus have probably already given you enough lectures to fill up a novel, so I won’t yell at you for being an impulsive, stupid idiot. Not yet.

For now, Shawn – his hand is really cold; is that normal? Should I call the doctor? No? – just know that I love you, with all my heart.

And that if you don’t wake up soon, I’ll kill you myself.

***

Mr. Spencer.

Shawn.

I… I apologize for not coming to see you sooner. It’s no excuse, but we’ve been really busy. God knows how you did it, but you somehow managed to still get us the evidence we needed to take these guys down, even on death’s door. These monsters have been tormenting a lot of very good people for far too long, and until you… did what you did, our hands were tied.

I suppose what I am saying is thank you.

It was incredibly stupid, and I – we all – wish you had never done it, but… thank you.

Wake up soon. That’s an order.

Oh, hi, Henry – I was just stopping by for a moment. How are you holding up? Yes, I –

***

Hey, Goose.

I would have been here sooner, but I was stuck in New York. I was in for a conference, and my flight got delayed because of snow, but… but you don’t really want to hear about that, do you?

You look good, considering. From the way your father talked, I thought you’d be wasting away. But your color is good. You don’t have that gray pallor I’ve seen so often in those who have given up.

That means you’re still fighting. And that’s good.

If you’re wondering where your dad is, don’t worry. Juliet and Gus dragged him to the cafeteria for some actual food – or as close as you can get to real food in a hospital. Your father… That man, Shawn, I just don’t think you know how much he cares about you. Not that it’s your fault. Henry has never been good at showing how he feels.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I married him, so long ago. Maybe I thought I could fix him. But you can’t really fix people, can you, Goose? Not the way you’d like to.

The doctors are doing everything they can to fix you, Shawn. So don’t give up.

Oh, here comes your father –

He’s fine, Henry – did you eat something? Gus, did he actually eat something? What did he eat? Henry Spencer, coffee is not food! Good grief, I’ll be right back...

***

Oh, Guster! I… I didn’t know you would be here. I’ll just… I was in the wrong room, that’s all. Yeah, I was just visiting an old friend of the family. Who? None of your business, actually. Just a friend, who is not Spencer.

What do you mean, I should stay since I’m already here? Guster, I have important things to do, cases to solve, people to see! Well, I suppose… Just for a minute, do you understand me? This is ridiculous… Spencer butts his nose into my case, breaks the whole thing open, and damn near dies in the process…

Guster – where the hell are you going? You can’t leave me alone with Spencer! … What do you mean, talk to him? Are you insane? I don’t want to talk to him when he’s awake, why would I –?

You don’t have to shout. I’ll stay while you step out.

But I won’t talk to him.

…

Well, Spencer, this is a fine mess you’ve put yourself in.

I mean sweet justice, man, do you ever think about what you’re doing? About how it will affect other people? The people who love you?

Not me, of course. You know I could care less about you. But my partner, your girlfriend, for some unfathomable reason, has chosen to be with you. To like you for – man, this is hard to say – to like you for who you are. I mean, have you met you? That’s something that should never have happened, especially not after all the stupid stunts you’ve pulled over the years.

But it did. She… Juliet, she cares about you. A lot. If you could see just how much she’s hurting right now…

Spencer, I once told you that if you hurt my partner, I’d kill you. Well, you’ve gone and done it. But I’m a fair man. Well, I can be a fair man if given the right circumstances. Okay, fine, I’m not exactly fair, but I do care about Juliet, so I will give you an ultimatum: If you go ahead and wake up, if you put a smile back on her face, then I will let you live. But you’ve got to do it soon, got it? No lollygagging like you usually do. Just…

Guster! You cannot just sneak up on a man like that! No, I wasn’t talking to Shawn, don’t be ridiculous. I’m on the phone with someone … Bluetooth.

What? NO! My eyes are not “misty.” Good lord, man, not everyone is a crybaby like you. No, I’m not staying any longer! Dammit, Guster, I don’t care –

***

Hey, Shawnie!

Look, this is a little awkward, I know, especially since I haven’t really been in touch since the whole Buchard’s treasure incident, but when your father finally got ahold of me, I rushed right over. Bygones, and all that, am I right?

Anywho… I brought you a penny. I know it’s not much, but this one’s special. It’s a 1943 bronze Lincoln. One of the rarest out there. I’ve been holding onto it for a while, but I thought you could use a little luck. Well, a little more than a little, but…

Anyway, kiddo. I hate seeing you like this. I’m getting ready to go cliff diving in Peru, but I’ll be here with you in spirit, you got that? Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.

Or do. I guess if you’re doing something stupid, then you’re not sleeping anymore.

Damn it. I’m not good at this stuff.

See ya around, kid.

***

Hey, Shawn, my man! Long time, no see, huh? Do you mind if I eat something while we chat? Want a bite? It’s your favorite…

No? Well, more for me, I suppose.

Hmmmm… your color looks less gray than last week. Maybe the doctors are right, maybe you really are recovering, but… I don’t know. Gah, I really wish they’d let me take a crack at you – ah, I mean, examine you, just in case, but… Apparently “someone who spends all day with the dead isn’t the right person to diagnose a living person, blah blah blah.” Between you and me, friend, I think they’re hiding something from us. It’s a conspiracy. … Not like the Chief Vick is actually a time traveler conspiracy, mind you. A real one.

Ah, whatever. Whatever happens will happen, am I right, Shawn? I have to say, you’re excellent company today! I do miss your witty retorts, but you’ve got that comforting presence I’ve come to expect from my friends in the morgue. They only get chatty when I haven’t slept for four days straight.

Huh, you normally would’ve laughed at that.

Anyway, keep on keeping on! Whatever happens, whatever direction this thing ends up going, just know I’ve got your back. And if you don’t make it in this world, well… let’s just say I picked out the perfect body bag to carry you into the next. Spoiler alert: I embroidered this one myself!

Oh, and don’t forget! I’ve called dibs on your autopsy, should it come to that! Gosh, I can’t stop wondering if your heart really is going to be two sizes bigger than most. I know it’s scientifically improbable, but you just love so damn much…

Ah! Oh, Henry, you scared me! I was just – no, I don’t have the body bag. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to – well, you know. Little joke of the trade, hehe. You’re not laughing – Shawn would have.

Okay, okay, I’m getting out, I’m leaving! But if anything happens, you know that I – OW! Okay, okay, yeah, got it. Geez Louise, you’ve got a tight grip. Did you arm wrestle in high school?

***

Hey, Shawn. How’s it going?

I mean, you’re in a coma, so I imagine it’s not great, but… I dunno, maybe it is. Maybe it’s nice, wherever you’re at.

Say, I wonder if you’re in the place your psychic visions come from. When you wake up, do you think you’ll be even more psychic than before? That would be so cool…

Oh, Franny and Mrs. Pickles say hi. She wanted to bake you a pie – Franny, of course, not Mrs. Pickles, he’s a cat – but I told her you were on a feeding tube, so she made me a pie instead. It was blueberry. One of the best pies I’ve ever tasted. She told me to tell you that if, I mean when, you wake up, she’ll make you a pineapple upside down cake. A whole one, just for you.

You’ve just got to wake up first, Shawn.

I … I really hope you wake up soon. I miss seeing you around the station. Heh, I even think Lassiter’s missing you. He doesn’t say it so many words – or any words at all, for that matter – but he’s different. Angrier, and I wasn’t even sure that was possible! And he keeps glancing over at the front doors, like he’s expecting you to come waltzing in at any moment.

Or, I dunno, maybe he ordered a pizza, but I’m betting he’s missing you, deep down.

We’re all missing you. Get better soon, okay, buddy?

***

Well, kid. It’s been five weeks. You’ve always been a slowpoke in the mornings, but this is getting ridiculous.

I’m running out of things to talk about. Bet you’re not too broken up about that, huh? Never did like to listen to what your old man had to say. Still… you listened when it mattered. Sometimes.

I’m thinking about retiring again. Karen’s trying to convince me to stay. She says that she’s always got a place for me, that they may be bringing in a couple of temporary consultants in the next few weeks, to help lighten the caseload. There’s a criminal profiler, a young woman who really knows her stuff, but Karen’s been holding off on hiring her. Honestly, the girl’s good at what she does, but she doesn’t hold a candle to what you do.

Then again, she’s not an attention-seeking moron who runs head-first into danger without thinking of the consequences, but… she’s still not you.

Anyway, I told Karen I’d think about it, but I don’t know. I’m getting old, kid. I thought I wasn’t, I still felt pretty young, but recently… I don’t know. The world just has a little less color in it than I remembered, and that’s what growing old looks like, isn’t it?

If I retired, would you wake up? If you didn’t have me “hovering” over you all day at work, would you finally come back? I mean, I accepted the job in the first place to keep you safe, and that went to hell in a handbag. Maybe I’m not so good at that job, after all.

Anyway, kid, you need to get off your lazy ass and wake up.

Believe it or not, I’m really starting to miss hearing your voice.

I love ya, kid. And I want you back.

***

Shawn, you will not believe what came in the mail today!

Seriously, guess.

Come on…

Dang it. I really hoped that would get you curious enough to open your eyes.

Anyway… something really did come in the mail. Well, sort of. I found it on your desk in the Psych office when I came in to check on things. I’ve been advised that it might be a good idea to stop paying rent for an office I’m not using, but that feels like letting you go, like I’m giving up on you, and I’m not ready to do that. So I’m going to keep paying that bill, okay?

But as I was saying, this envelope was just sitting on your desk! Just your name on it, too. At first I thought you were finally getting your Hogwarts letter, because it’s in a really fancy envelope. It wasn’t, by the way. Damn, I’m really rambling today. Sorry. I’m just … tired. But I wanted to read you this letter before I head out to see a few more clients. Here we go:

Dear Shawn,

It has come to my attention that you have been gravely injured and are in a coma in Santa Barbara Hospital. My contact has informed me that you’ve been in this state for nearly two months now. I am devastated to hear about this, and hope that by the time this letter finds you, you have awoken and are back to your normal self. If not, then I can only hope that your friend Mr. Guster will be kind enough to read you this letter.

I regret that I was unable to visit you myself, but as I am currently wanted in no less than four countries, I thought it best to stay away from any place that is crawling with police officers. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but between your lovely lady friend and her grumpy assistant, along with all of your other friends at the SBPD, you have an officer of the peace in your hospital room nearly around the clock. And I know what you’re thinking – I made my name sneaking in and out of impenetrable places. You would be right. Perhaps I cannot face seeing you in such a terrible way with my own eyes.

You must recover soon! I stole a lovely Van Gogh in your honor, but there was no way I could have mailed it to you without its being confiscated by the authorities. I do think of you every time I see it upon my mantle.

Sincerely,

Pierre Despereaux, Gentleman & Art Thief

Did you hear that, Shawn? Your iffy role model Despereaux is even worried about you. I know that you would – for some reason – do anything to make that man proud. So what do you say? You ready to wake up yet?

…

Dammit, Shawn. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

***

Hey, there, Goose.

I know it’s been a while since I’ve visited, but I’m actually on a conference tour right now, and your father is keeping me up to date on all developments. You look nice today – your father just gave you a shave, and though it’s not the most even of cuts, it makes you look more like yourself.

So, your father called me yesterday in near hysterics. He said that you had shown the first signs of waking – when your nurse took your blood, you pulled away. For the first time since all this started, you reacted to something in your surroundings. Of course, I flew right in.

You haven’t responded to anything since, though. Shawn, I –

You know I love you, right? I realize that I’ve never been the best at this sort of thing – at being a mother. I know I didn’t always make the right decisions. Even now, I…

I miss you, son. If you can hear me at all – and I know that you can – please, please, just… whatever is trapping you in your own mind, whether it is fear or trauma or pain or … please, just. Come back to us. I –

Oh, Henry, when did you get back? No, you don’t have to leave, I – No, no, I’m fine, I told you I’m fine, I –

– It’s all right, Maddie. I’ve got you. You don’t always have to be strong, you know. –

***

Okay, Shawn, I know I normally try to keep things light and positive, but I don’t think I have it in me to do that today. I’m sorry, I just…

Today sucked, you know? Like, really sucked. Well, if I’m being honest, the past seven months have sucked. But today was extra special.

I won’t burden you with all of the details, but work was difficult today. Lassiter and I got assigned a tough case, and, well, it didn’t end up the way we’d hoped. Long story short, we uncovered a dirty cop. It was, um… do you remember Lawson? He worked in narcotics. Turns out he’s done some things … hurt some people. He wasn’t always accountable out in the field, and some things came to light. Anyway. It’s a mess.

And then there’s this whole thing with you. I just … every time it looks like you’re making improvements, you just … you just retreat back into yourself, and I feel like I’m losing you more every day. I promised you when this all started, on day one, that I would wait for you, that I would be patient, and I’m trying, but…

It’s not that I want to leave you or anything. Not at all. My patience is just wearing thin, and I can’t sleep and night and every day I wake up terrified to look at my phone, because what if I have a message that you’ve woken up, but that you don’t remember me at all? Or worse, what if I get a message that you’ll never wake up again?

Our bed feels empty. I sleep with Mr. Snuggles every night, though – do you remember Mr. Snuggles, you know, the bear you won me at the fair when we started dating? He’s soft, but he’s wearing a bit thin. I guess holding a stuffed animal like it’s a lifeline every night for over half a year will do that, but I’m afraid he’s going to break soon.

I think…

I think I’m already broken, Shawn, and I can’t –

I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… I just miss you.

Did you know that I kiss you every night before I leave? Nothing fancy, just a single, light kiss on the lips. Sometimes I pretend that you’re the damsel in distress and I’m Prince Charming, and I almost manage to convince myself that when I pull back, your eyes will be fluttering open to look at me, like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. But every time, you stay asleep.

Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. Can you do it for me, baby? Please?

…

Well, it was worth a try. I miss the way you used to kiss me back. I’ll try again tomorrow.

I’ll never stop trying.

I love you, Shawn.

***

I just don’t get it, Mr. Spencer. The doctors say he’s recovered from his injuries almost perfectly. Even the head injury, on the surface, has healed. Why isn’t he waking up? It’s been eleven months!

If I knew, Gus, I’d be the first to tell you, but I have no idea what’s going on inside that thick head of his.

I’m sorry. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, too. I shouldn’t be –

Gus. Just like I told Jules, we have to be here for each other. That’s all we can do. That, and be here for Shawn when he wakes up.

If he wakes up.

Don’t say that, Gus. You know Shawn. He’s the most stubborn person either of us knows. He’ll wake up. He’ll make it through this.

How long are we going to keep telling ourselves that? He’s been comatose for almost a year, Mr. Spencer. Every time he shows signs of coming back, he just… doesn’t. How long do we keep waiting? Two years? Five? How long until we’ve reached the point of no return? Will we even know it when we see it?

Gus, the point of no return doesn’t happen until he stops breathing, and that’s not going to happen, okay? We stick by Shawn until our prayers are answered or are no longer necessary. Got it?

You’re right, I’m so sorry. Of course I’d never give up on Shawn, I’m just so tired –

Shhhh!

I am pouring my heart out here! I let you cry on my shoulder yesterday, and you won’t even let me –

First off, I wasn’t crying, and even if it was, I wouldn’t be doing it on your shoulder. Secondly, I could have sworn I saw – yes! He’s moving! Do you see his hand, Gus? Gus!

I … I dunno Mr. Spencer. Could be another false alarm.

Maybe, but… this feels different. Shawn? Shawn? Can you hear me, bud? Can you open your eyes?

He’s stopped moving. His heart rate’s normalizing. I think –

“D-dad?”

Oh my – thank GOD, Gus, get a doctor, get a nurse – call Jules – Shawn, Shawn, can you hear me?

“Dad?”

I’m here, Shawn, I’m here. Open your eyes for me – there you go. Gus has gone to get the nurse. He’ll be back with someone in a second.

“Jules?”

She’ll be here, she’s just outside. Thank God you’re awake, I –

“I h-heard, Dad.”

What?

“I heard. Everything.”

You did, huh?

“Yeah… do you a-always sound like a dying lawn mower when you cry?”

Dammit, Shawn, can’t you let me enjoy having you back for one second before you ruin it?

“L-love you, too, Dad.”

…

Welcome back, son. It’s good to see you smile again.

“Yeah, you too, dad – weird… But good.”

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jjaeong · 4 years ago

Text

Color-Correction Post (50 Followers Edition).

(Posting this through my laptop because my phone kept crashing when I change the colors or even link the source?)

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional, this is post was created just to put into perspective how I always tweak the colors in each GIF I attach to my fics. I just wanted to share this because it’s honestly satisfying with the end result (and in celebration of 50 followers).

Before I got into this entire GIF in fics thing, I thought that it was cool how there’d always be a GIF attached into what I’d always read on this site—I’ve observed how it somehow made it easier to get into whatever it was you were reading when there was some visualization attached to it (no matter how lightly written the fic is). And I’ve done this “writing template” with the two borders and the gif in the middle—but I don’t consider the fic on my other account as influenced as this account because it was just literally one drabble (if you find it—hmu lmao).

Also, I think I mislead you guys about my last writing account being back in 2014 (but honestly, I don’t remember any other time than my last drabble in the Summer of 2020—I had a lot of things going on since I started attending University).

But that’s a story for another time.

I just like the idea of incorporating the right visuals in my fics because—other than I don’t seem to have anything else to do (lmao)—I just found it easier to write with what I can see with the imagery, and so I thought that it would be cool if my readers would get to experience the same thing and not just in my head, you know?

Honestly this sounds so taxing and it looks like I’m putting too much effort into it but.. It’s art? This blog is a passion project that had just been brought to life— something we can always come back to when we feel like doing so.

Anyways, here’s the step by step process of making the GIFS.

One. Finding The Right Visualization.

I’m not strict in finding a source, usually I’d be watching loonatv and I’d suddenly be hit by the scene like—oh, that looks like it’ll fit in this idea that I thought about earlier. But what I am strict about is if I can find a better angle (this goes with the fan site sources and etcetera), because it usually starts from “this looks nice” and should end with “okay, it’s time to write about it” but sometimes, sadly it would end with “I don’t feel that great about the plot idea though”.

But for the series stuff (such as The Heiress which is currently ongoing) it’s harder to find more cinematic shots that fit the mood. I try my best on finding a video that would set the foundation of the fic before going ahead and downloading the videos from a separate online video converter.

I also make sure to take note of the dates, the links and specially the channel name or basically the source because if I found the shot pretty and just took it without giving credit—I admire these non-profit(?) fan sites (I love vantablack’s fan cams of Hyunjin the most) so that’s why I started to include sources. Simply appreciating the craft.

Two. Color Correcting By The Fic’s Tone.

The thing that I honestly do not like the most is the fade(?) effect that loonatv adds to their videos, I’ve noticed how they always applied this because it makes the girls somewhat “brighter” but it takes away their more.. Natural colors. The lighting in this shot was bright enough to somewhat strengthen the fading effect that they put—but the thing I keep feeling upset for is that you lose a bit of the natural setting that the girls themselves make brighter.

So if it’s a light fic, a happy one shot like Rest Easy Love, I’ll Always Be Your Favorite Girl, I added a warmer tone to the GIF.

(I think I corrected it some more after recording this on my screen, but you guys get the point lmao sorry).

And when it’s a more darker type of fic, this is an example of how I envision the lighting would be like The Heiress effect (which I applied to this exact GIF just for comparison). That’s all to it when I CC—just keep in mind the vibe of the fic, adjust the lighting and etcetera, and finally add the effects if you have them.

Three. The Cinematic Border And Final Export.

I found it easier to just adjust the video itself under the border to fit it instead of cropping because it really takes so much space when you crop it. You’d barely get a full decent view so I just drag and adjust it.

After I’ve finished the video, I then export the file and send it to my online archives or via cable to my phone (when I’m in a hurry). The reason why I upload it on a cloud is that sometimes after I edit the video, I tend to burn myself out so I can’t be bothered to turn it instantly into a GIF.

I use my phone to convert the video into a GIF because whenever I use my video editing software it tends to not upload in this site, and after looking for the reason why—turns out you can only upload up to 15MB of your GIF here—I just convert it on my phone because it’s the quickest when it comes to compressing the file.

Then I open my drafts and attach it there along with my borders, and that’s about it.

At this point I think now you guys know why I take my time to post and follow through my chapters (because I like to wait for the inspiration to hit before I start writing, and that I look for clips that will help me visualize better)—but I just want to say that one day we’ll reach a bigger audience, there will be more people expecting quality from this blog and as much as I’d hate to admit it, I am aware that it will take a toll on me.

But that will never stop me from loving these girls because they’ve been nothing but a positive source of happiness from me—I’ve been through so much last year and they somehow made me feel like myself again, and that’s such a big impact in my current situation right now and this is how I want to express myself in loving them.

I want nothing other than to give these girls a positive light in this blog, and though times may be rough we’d still have these Y/N fics to come back to when we feel like we’re not living the Y/N life in reality.

And I know this is a lot of talk for a small following—but someone out there will always read your notes, no matter how silly it will be there will always be a reader that will like your work even if you don’t feel confident in your writing.

Because if your following is the reason you’re writing, then write for them.

If you’re writing for yourself just as I am—do it.

As long as there is passion inside of you, pursue it. Even if it’s just writing Y/N fics while you’re balancing too many things at once.

Stay passionate, that’s all I truly had to say.

You guys are cool.

Laters,

>ovc: loonatheworld (171212)

https://youtu.be/eUeFUBy40ow

8 notes · View notes

rainecreatesstuff · 3 years ago

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Chapters: 2/4 Fandom: Minecraft (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Ranboo, No Romantic Relationship(s) Characters: Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: Goat Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Platonically Married Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo Have a Child Named Michael, Ranboo Tubbo and Tommy run away from the SMP, Kind of like a fix-it fic but not really, sorry I’m not great with tags aha, Fluff, Family Fluff, just so so much fluff, Queerplatonic Ranboo and Tubbo, bee duo, Bench trio, Technoblade is a softie, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Gets a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Gets a Hug, Traumatized TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, lots of hugs and cuddles, Phil Watson is Called Philza (Video Blogging RPF), I don’t think I need any trigger warnings, but If I do please let me know and I’ll add them :), Snowchester on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Relationships, Platonic Cuddling, TommyInnit Has PTSD (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Has Horns, Toby Smith | Tubbo Has Mental Health Issues, Ranboo Has a Tail (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Has Mental Health Issues, god i hate tagging things, no beta we die like tommy- wait- shit no, no beta we die like Wilbur- FUCK-, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE UHHHHH MEXICAN DREAM, Rated T for Tommyinnit Swearing, and tubbo swearing, and maybe phil i don’t remember, point is, Swearing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 1 of Runaways AU

Takes place between Tommy’s revival and Wilbur’s. ALL names in this story are referring to the CHARACTERS of the Dream SMP, NOT the CCs. If any ccs state that this fic makes them uncomfortable, or it crosses boundaries, it will immediately be taken down. Please be respectful in the comments. :)

Chapter 2 under the cut! :)

Tubbo was shaking with excitement.

Finally, after months and months of shoving the thought away, it was happening. They were leaving.

Tubbo rushed around his basement, grabbing as many resources as he could and shoving them into his inventory haphazardly. Not much thought went into it, if he saw something he thought he might need he’d toss it in. If he forgot anything he could just ask Ranboo for it anyways.

With his stuff packed, he headed upstairs to check on Michael quickly before leaving. The toddler was still sound asleep, clinging to his chicken plush fiercely. Tubbo gently kissed his forehead, tucking him in tightly, before making his way back to the ladder.

He locked the hatch behind him, just in case. You could never be too careful when you were married to a main character and best friends with a protagonist. He shrugged on his coat and slipped on his combat boots, exiting the house and locking the door behind him. He ran to the hyper-tunnel, tridenting through and flying out the other side.

He made his way to Tommy’s land, where he found the blond sitting on his bench and staring at the horizon.

“Tommy!” Tommy’s head shot in his direction as he yelled his name.

He ran onto the property, practically throwing himself at Tommy and head-butting his chest.

“Fuckin- Ow man, what the fuck’s gotten into you?”

Tubbo grinned up at him, springing up from the bench and flapping his hands back and forth.

“Okay, okay, okay. So. Um, basically, you know how everything’s pretty much gone to shit on this server? And how we’re like, constantly in danger of someone trying to kill us?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“I’d say I’m well aware of it, yeah. Didn’t expect you to be so excited about it though. Seriously big man, I haven’t seen you this excited since the bee farm you built way back before L’Manburg.”

Tubbo faltered for a moment. This was going to be difficult.

“No, I’m not excited about that.” He took a deep breath and calmed himself down, falling back onto the bench.

“So, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, a long time, actually, and I was talking to Ranboo and he kind of just asked me why not, and now we’re doing it, so.”

Tommy laughed nervously.

“You still haven’t told me what ‘it’ is, Tubs.”

“I’m getting there. You’re just. You’re probably not gonna be too happy about it at first, but I want you to take some time and actually think about it because I do genuinely think it’s the best option for us.”

Tommy looked at him warily.

“Alright. I’ll think about whatever you say, promise.”

Tubbo nodded.

“Okay, good, so…”

He looked over to Tommy, sucked in a deep breath, and blurted it out.

“What if we left?”

Tommy froze.

He stood from the bench and made his way back towards his house, and Tubbo ran after him.

“Tommy, I know it’s scary, and weird, but honestly-“

“No.”

Tubbo froze as well.

“You promised you’d think about it.”

“Yeah, I did think about it, and now I’m fucking shaking, so sorry, Tubbo, but it’s a fucking no from me.” Tommy finally turned to look at Tubbo, and tears were pooling in his eyes.

Tubbo swallowed.

“We can’t keep living like this, Tommy. I can’t keep going week by week not knowing if my best friend, or my kid, or my husband, or myself are gonna make it to the next one.” Tubbo reached for Tommy’s hand, but the taller boy yanked it away.

“Then leave. Fuck off with your perfect little family. See if I care.” Tommy growled.

Tears threatened to spring to Tubbo’s eyes, but he held them back. Tommy didn’t mean any of this. He was scared, and he felt threatened, and he was responding with anger. Tubbo had seen him do it time and time again. This was nothing new.

Didn’t exactly make it hurt much less though.

“I’m not leaving without you. You are my family.” Tubbo reminded him gently.

Tommy practically snarled at him.

“Remember- remember what Puffy was saying? About using anger as a coping mechanism for fear? You’re doing it again, Toms.” Tubbo did his best to keep his voice from shaking.

He hated it when Tommy got like this with him. It’d happened far too many times and ended far too horribly each time. He wondered if it was his fault.

Tommy’s eyes widened for a moment, and he seemed to shake himself off, taking a deep breath before stepping backwards.

“Just- just give me a minute.” He turned and ran into his house.

Tubbo watched his retreat, and began shaking. He’d known Tommy wouldn’t take well to the idea, but he didn’t think it’d upset him this much. Was it worth it to try to convince him? Even if it would spare them both a lot of grief and suffering in the long run, he couldn’t bear to make Tommy feel that anxious.

He took a deep breath, and thought it all over again. He had wanted to leave because he wanted to feel safe. He wanted his loved ones safe. That was okay, it was good.

It was… a good option, all things considered. He knew if Wilbur were here, he’d scold him for running away from his problems. But Wilbur wasn’t here, and Tubbo wasn’t running away. He was escaping.

Tommy finally emerged from the house, looking a bit more confident with himself than he had before. He looked up at Tubbo with his hands busying themselves with his sleeves. Tubbo opened his arms, and Tommy slid into a hug.

“I know you’re not keen on the idea. And I know it’s stressful, and new, and I know you don’t like new. But please just let me explain. Because I don’t know how much longer we can go like this before something happens.” Tubbo spoke in a hushed tone.

Tommy pulled away, nodding and leading Tubbo back to the bench.

They sat down, and Tubbo took a deep breath and began.

“Okay. So, I’ve had this plan, kind of sitting in the back of my mind for a while. Wasn’t even really a plan at first, just a daydream.”

Tommy caught his eye, and nodded for him to continue.

“It must’ve been a few days after you got out of the prison. I just remember seeing you trip and fall, and god, Tommy, you looked the same way you did the day of the festival, in that goddamn pit…”

Tubbo looked away from Tommy, who reached over and grabbed his hand, holding it in his own gently.

“You were shaking like a leaf, and your breathing was all funny, and all I could think about was how none of this would’ve happened if we’d ran off that day, when we were talking about it.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Tommy stared out at the twilight growing sky, eyes tracing the newly revealed stars.

“Thought we’d agreed that was dumb. We still had stuff we had to do.”

“We did,” Tubbo bit his lip, “We did agree. Back then. But, I don’t know, I started letting myself think about it, and like… I just want to live. Like actually live. I don’t wanna be so scared out of my mind that I have to build fucking nukes to keep my family safe. I don’t wanna wake up every morning and not be sure if my best friend is still around until I see you.”

A tear ran down Tommy’s face, and he pulled Tubo into another tight hug.

“I can’t leave. I have so much work to do.”

Tubbo huffed, squeezing Tommy back.

“Like what?”

Tommy let his head rest on Tubbo’s shoulder, and his arms went slack against Tubbo’s back.

“I have so many people I have to apologize and make it up to. And I’ve got a reputation to fix. And I have to kill Dream.”

Tubbo pulled away, staring Tommy down.

“Ignoring that other stuff for a moment, you don’t have to kill Dream.”

Tommy frowned.

“Yeah, I do. He’s too dangerous to be left alive. If he brings Wilbur back he’s gonna hurt so many people. I don’t- I don’t wanna kill him, I don’t wanna kill anyone, but I have to, because nobody else will.” Tommy spoke it like it was a mantra he’d been taught.

Tubbo felt like he’d been taught it as well.

“But it’s not your job. It’s not your responsibility.”

“Tubbo-“

“No.” Tubbo stood from the bench.

“No, it’s not, and you’re not getting me to agree with that. Dream is fucking insane, and he’s hurt a lot of people, and you don’t have to deal with him. It’s not your responsibility to save everyone, Tommy. I know we’ve had it drilled into our heads from the moment we joined that goddamned revolution that we should aspire to be martyrs, but we shouldn’t.”

Tommy stared at him with something sad, and something akin to awe.

“We have every right to live and be safe, Tommy. We’ve done our part. We’ve fought wars we shouldn’t’ve had to. We get to be free from it all.” Tubbo paused for a moment, sitting back down.

“Dream isn’t your responsibility. Maybe he’s Sam’s, or his own, who knows. But he’s not yours. You don’t have to be the one to prevent his actions.”

Tommy breathed in shakily, and nodded.

“I hear you,” He spoke quietly, “Not sure if I quite get it yet, but. I do hear you.”

“That’s all I ask for.”

Tommy took a deep breath.

“So, you’re suggesting we just disappear into the night?”

Tubbo smiled sheepishly.

“I mean… essentially, yeah.”

“And you’ve been planning this for how long?”

“What time is it?”

“How the fuck would I know? Probably around nine or something?”

“Alright, then like… forty five minutes.”

Tommy stared at him.

Tubbo stared back.

“I’m gonna kill your husband.”

“Wha- it’s not like it’s his fault, I’m the one that brought it up-“

Tommy groaned.

“No no no, this has Ranboob written all over it. He probably made you get all nostalgic and shit and then proposed this and now we’re leaving.”

Tubbo’s ears pricked up, and a small smile wormed its way onto his face.

“So you’re coming then?”

Tommy groaned again, leaning back against the bench.

“I don’t fucking know Tubbo. You’re sure this is what you want? Like 100% sure?”

Tubbo ran a hand through his hair.

“Pretty sure it’s all I’ve wanted for a while, boss man.”

Tommy pulled his knees up to his chest.

“So you’re really okay just leaving all this behind? L’manburg, and the bench, and Snowchester?”

“Honestly? As long as I have you, Michael, and Ranboo, I couldn’t give two fucks about any of this. But… I understand if it’s harder for you.” Tubbo spoke gently, as if Tommy might startle.

Tommy hummed, and let his eyes fall on the horizon again.

“It’s weird to think about. And it makes me feel scared. Like, there’s all these places here that have so many memories, and one day we might come back and they’ll look completely different.”

Tubbo watched his friend quietly for a moment. He probably should have come prepared for a deep conversation. Tommy was having those a lot more often with him. And he was proud of Tommy, god, he was so proud of him. But it served as a bit of a reminder that things would never go back to the way they were before. There’d always be something weighing them down.

… If Tubbo got his way tonight, he hoped it would take a bit of that weight off.

“Isn’t there kind of beauty in that, though? New people will show up, and walk the same ground as us, and make new memories in the places we made ours. Someone else will sit on this bench one day and it could be the best day of their life, and they’ll watch the sunset and celebrate, just like we did, and never even know it.”

Tommy caught his eye again, a look of contemplation in his gaze.

“And like, nothing’s ever permanent, Toms. You and I of all people know that. If you decide you want to come back, I’ll come with you. It’s me and you ‘til the end, right?” Tubbo held up his arm, hand fisted, and smiled as Tommy did the same and bumped their arms together.

“Always.”

Tommy sighed.

“Guess I better get packing then, huh?”

Tubbo grinned.

“I’ll meet you at my place in, let’s say, an hour?”

“Sure big man.”

The two hugged once more, then separated. Tubbo nearly had to stop himself from skipping down the prime path.

Tommy did have a point, it was weird to think he might never walk this path again. That sickly fear of being forgotten crawled it’s way into his chest, and he decided to get rid of it as soon as possible. He’d made his mark well enough, if he said so himself.

There was an entire crater that people would tell stories of for decades that he’d had a huge part in. Couples would settle down in Snowchester years from now and see his name etched into the stone, and know him as their founder. Teenagers would dare each other to walk through a button-filled ravine and the nerds among them would tell the story of Pogtopia, of the president that went mad, and the legendary warrior, and the determined hero, and maybe, hopefully, even the crafty spy. He’d made several farms and trading posts that would be used for generations should they be upkept. And he’d never upkept them, so he didn’t see them falling into disarray the moment he left.

Tubbo had left his mark on the land. On the history of the server. Still, the tightness wouldn’t leave his throat.

He grabbed a knife from his pocket and stared at the prime path for a moment before kneeling down. In sharp, clean letters, he etched “TUBBO_BELOVED WALKED HERE.” It was simple, so utterly stupid compared to the other things he had done to mark up the server. But it made him laugh, and it made the tendrils of fear loosen from his lungs, for whatever reason. And so he decided to be proud of it.

He made his way back home and practically flung open the door, making his way to his bedroom and closet. The moon was well underway on its journey through the sky, the silver light illuminating his room through the windows. He grabbed an assortment of clothes and piled them into a backpack. Several green shirts, some hoodies, a t-shirt that definitely had belonged to Ranboo at some point, jeans. He threw in everything he could. His hand brushed on a coat, and he pushed the rest of the clothes to the side.

His presidential jacket hung neatly in the corner of his closet. That’s right, he’d stored it away before Doomsday. Hadn’t been sure when he’d need it again. He slipped it off its hanger and shrugged it on. He looked at himself in the mirror.

It still looked too big.

“Tubbo?”

Tubbo glanced to the corner of the mirror, where Ranboo now stood in his line of sight.

“Hey boss man.”

Ranboo strode up to him, and hugged him gently from behind, his elbows resting on Tubbo’s shoulders.

“You ready to get going?”

“Just about. Gotta get Michael’s stuff together still.”

“Mm.”

They stood like that for a few moments, until Ranboo gently head butted Tubbo’s head, and moved away, gently slipping the coat off of Tubbo. He put it back on its hanger and slid it back into its place in the closet.

“I vote we leave this one behind.”

Tubbo hummed, a smile making its way onto his face.

“Can't say I disagree.”

Ranboo grabbed a few more things from Tubbo’s closet and threw them to Tubbo, who caught them and folded them, placing them carefully into his bag.

“Guess you don’t like me in a suit then. I’ll make note of that.”

Ranboo froze for a moment, then flustered, slapping Tubbo gently on the back of the head. Tubbo giggled, zipping up his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder.

They made their way out into the living room, where a duffel bag already sat on the floor beside the couch. Tubbo threw his bag down next to Ranboo’s, and jumped when the duffel moved.

“Hey, Boo?” Tubbo whisper-yelled.

“Yeah?”

“Care to explain why your bag is shaking and purring?”

They stared at each other, Ranboo freezing like a deer in headlights.

“… I couldn’t just leave Enderchest.”

Tubbo laughed fondly. He knelt down and scratched the cat’s ears, which earned him a louder purr.

“Guess I understand. Cats have got to stick together after all.” Tubbo grinned.

Ranboo groaned across the room.

“Catboy, little meow meow, my meow meow catboy, little baby man.” Tubbo strode across the room, smooshing Ranboo’s cheeks with his hands.

“You are a menace to society.”

Tubbo cackled evilly, and moved one of his hands up to scratch around Ranboo’s ears, laughing again when a soft rumble came from his husband’s chest.

“This is not funny.” Ranboo could barely stop himself from purring long enough to say it.

“Mhm.” Tubbo rubbed Ranboo’s ears and the purring grew louder.

“I hate this.”

“Tell me to stop then.”

Ranboo flushed, and Tubbo laughed triumphantly, bonking his forehead with Ranboo’s and leaving him be. He made his way up to Michael’s room, followed closely by Ranboo, who held another backpack in his hands and was yet to stop purring.

They moved in tandem, grabbing and folding their toddler’s clothes and placing them in the backpack. They also brought an assortment of books and little trinkets they’d collected for Michael over the past few months. Finally, they grabbed some blankets and folded them neatly, stuffing them into the backpack and zipping it up. Ranboo swung the backpack over his shoulder and shimmied back down the ladder.

Tubbo sighed, and sat on Michael’s bed, gently carding his fingers through his son’s short mane. Ranboo came back up, and sat beside him.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Tubbo mumbled, half to himself.

“Can’t believe in a bad way, or can’t believe in a good way?”

“The good way.”

Ranboo leaned against Tubbo, resting his cheek on Tubbo’s head, careful to avoid the horns.

“Should we wake him up now and get him out to a boat, or should we wait for Tommy?” Ranboo swung an arm around Tubbo’s waist lazily.

Tubbo leaned into the gesture. It was quite bizarre. Ever since his execution, physical affection had left him uneasy and anxious, but for some reason it was different with Ranboo. Maybe it was how unsure of it he’d seemed himself, or maybe that he hadn’t known Tubbo before the scars. It made Tommy jealous, Tubbo was well aware of that. But at the moment, Tommy was only just getting back to being able to handle hugs, so Tubbo wasn’t sure cuddling would do either of them any good at this point.

“Bo?”

Tubbo snapped back.

“Right, sorry, yeah, let’s uh, let’s wait for Tommy to get here. He’ll probably wake Michael up with his knocking anyway.”

Ranboo hummed amusedly, and Tubbo smiled. He glanced out the window, and watched the waves for a moment.

“You wanna go for a quick stroll before Tommy gets here?” Tubbo stood, offering Ranboo a hand up.

“Sure.”

Ranboo took it, and they made their way to the doors, Tubbo slipping on his coat as they left. They wandered around for a bit, chatting idly, reminiscing on stupid and funny moments that had happened in the little town of Snowchester. They eventually ended up on the docks, and Tubbo sat down, swinging his legs over the side. Ranboo sat beside him, his tail wrapping around towards Tubbo.

Tubbo shivered, and leaned into Ranboo, who held him.

“So this is it then. Anywhere you wanna visit before we leave? L’manhole, maybe?”

Tubbo smiled.

“Nah. I’ve said my goodbyes to that place. I’m all good to go.”

Ranboo laughed quietly.

“Not to question you, but for someone who spent several nights awake making layouts for his builds, you don’t seem all too sad about leaving them.”

“Well, I mean, yeah. It kinda sucks, but at their core, they’re just builds. I’ll think back on them one day and cringe at how I styled them. You and Michael and Tommy being safe is far more important than whatever project I’m focused on at the minute.” Tubbo said quietly.

Ranboo hummed.

“And you know you’re the same for me, right? You’re always gonna be one of my top priorities.”

It felt a little uncomfortable to hear, but Tubbo knew that was just his messed up brain doing its messed up little thing. And so, pushing down the feeling of twisting in his stomach, he leaned closer to Ranboo.

“Thanks, boss man. I’m glad.”

They sat for a moment in silence, listening to the waves lap at the sides of the docks. Tubbo checked his communicator for the time. Tommy should be getting here soon. Thank god, he was getting a bit anxious to actually get on the road. He was, of course, still grateful that the universe had decided to give them a moment of peace before the inescapable chaos that would be travelling a long distance with a toddler and Tommy- so, basically two toddlers- for several days. Hell, maybe even several weeks.

So, of course, Ranboo had to ruin the peace.

“You’re actually talking about your feelings. A big win for the Tubbo_Beloved community.”

Tubbo huffed out a laugh, gently slapping Ranboo’s chest.

“Oh, shut up.”

Ranboo giggled, his tail wagging happily and hitting the stone.

“OI TUBBO! BOOB BOY! I’M HERE!”

Tubbo let out a sigh and turned to see Tommy standing on his porch, waving his arms around like a madman. Ranboo laughed, bonking their foreheads together. Tubbo groaned, letting his head fall onto Ranboo’s chest for a minute.

“Ready to spend several days on end with the one and only Tommyinnit?” Ranboo’s voice was light, lighter than he’d heard it in a while.

Tubbo smiled.

“Gods help our souls.”

Ranboo laughed, loud and clear, and Tubbo grinned. He pulled back, and Ranboo stood, helping Tubbo up as well. They made their way back to the cabin, Tommy tapping his foot impatiently like a cartoon character. Tubbo walked up the steps and made eye contact with Tommy, asking a silent question.

Are you okay?

Yes.

Are you sure you wanna do this?

Yeah, I’m good.

Tommy swung an arm around Tubbo’s neck, pulling him in quickly for a side-hug, then relaxing and dragging him inside.

“Your gremlin’s awake by the way. Couldn’t handle the might and power of the great Tommyinnit.” Tommy grinned as he tossed his bag next to Tubbo’s beside the couch.

Tubbo rolled his eyes, and motioned for Ranboo to go get Michael with a nod. Ranboo laughed quietly, and went upstairs. Tommy released Tubbo from his hold, and plopped down beside the bags, petting Enderchest, who seemed somewhat apprehensive of the new person.

“So did you say goodbye to everything?” Tommy scratched behind Enderchest’s ears and the cat immediately warmed up to him.

“Nah. I’ve made my peace with this place. Just waiting to leave now.” Tubbo sat down beside him, taking a few locks of Tommy’s hair and beginning to twist them into a braid.

“Saw your message on the Prime Path.”

“Yeah?”

“Made one beside it. Now it says ‘TUBBO_BELOVED and BIG MAN TOMMYINNIT WALKED HERE.’”

“Pffft- I’m glad, now everyone will know the true owners of the Prime Path for generations to come.” Tubbo tied the braid together loosely, then sat back.

“Fuck yeah they will. Big Man Tommy’s legacy is going nowhere.”

Tubbo laughed, and Tommy smiled gently.

Tubbo’s ear flicked as the hatch to Michael’s room opened, and he looked over to see Ranboo carrying a very sleepy Michael down the ladder. The toddler was wrapped in his favourite blanket, one he’d been given by Foolish, and was clutching his chicken plush against his chest with one hand. His other hand gripped Ranboo’s shirt, rumpling the thin fabric, and not assisting in keeping the toddler in Ranboo’s arms in any way, shape, or form. Tubbo stood, making his way over and taking Michael from Ranboo’s arms. Michael gently headbutted his chest, and Tubbo did the same to Michael’s forehead.

“Did you tell him what’s happening yet?” Tubbo asked as Ranboo made his way down the ladder.

“Not yet, figured we should tell him together.”

“Mm. Fairs. Mikey?”

Michael gazed up at his dads sleepily. Tubbo’s heart clenched at the sight.

“You awake there, buddy?” Ranboo asked, running a hand through the toddler’s mane.

Michael grunted and hid his face in Tubbo’s shoulder, causing a soft laugh from Ranboo. Tommy snorted from across the room.

“Can we talk for a minute Michael?” Tubbo placed a kiss on his son’s forehead, and Michael looked up at him, then Ranboo, and nodded.

“Alright.” Tubbo carried Michael over to where Tommy sat, and returned to his place on the floor with Michael in his lap.

Michael’s eyes shot open when he saw Tommy, his mouth gaping in surprise. He squirmed out of Tubbo’s grasp and walked right up to Tommy, placing his tiny, hoof-like hands on Tommy’s cheeks.

“Mimi.” Michael stated with a seriousness that bordered that of a commander’s.

Tubbo burst out laughing, and as Ranboo slid onto the floor beside him, he could feel his husband shaking trying to hold his own laughter back. Tommy sighed dramatically, but smiled.

“Yes, it is me, your saviour, Mimi. I’ve arrived to make sure those two don’t bore you to death.” Tommy nodded in Tubbo and Ranboo’s direction.

Well, he tried to. He did what he could with toddler hands holding his head in place. Michael followed his gaze, and looked between his dads like he was contemplating something very important. He looked back to Tommy and nodded. Tubbo gasped.

“Have we been betrayed?” Tubbo looked back at Ranboo, who grinned.

“I think so, I think so.”

“We’ve been betrayed by our only heir. Oh woe is me.” Tubbo fell back dramatically into Ranboo’s arms, and Michael giggled.

Tubbo reached his arms out in Michael’s direction, and Michael waddled back over to him, sitting squarely in his lap, and looking up at him expectedly.

“Alright. Serious talk time,” Tubbo squeezed his son, and Ranboo nodded in agreement, “I’m gonna tell you straight up, because I know you’re a big kid and you’re gonna be okay. But it’s okay if you feel upset at what I tell you, okay?”

“You’re allowed to feel however you do, I promise your Bee and I won’t ever get mad at you for that, alright?” Ranboo gently squeezed Tubbo’s shoulder as he spoke.

Michael looked between the two quizzically, and then looked back down at his lap. After a moment, he looked back up, and nodded seriously.

“Alright. So, we’re going to be moving houses, and it’s probably gonna be really far away.”

“And we probably won’t be back for a very long time.” Ranboo added.

Michael’s eyebrows furrowed, and Tubbo would have cooed if he wasn’t worried that Michael was upset. The toddler jutted his thumb out in the direction of the mansion, and Tubbo is quite proud of himself, because he at least had the decency to look sheepish at it. Tommy had to suppress a laugh, hiding it behind a cough. Tubbo glared at him. Ranboo snorted from behind him.

“No, Mikey, we’re gonna travel for a while and then build a new house, far away from here.”

Michael frowned, and took his chicken plush back in his hands, placing it in his lap. He squeezed it gently a couple times as Tubbo ran his hand through the toddler’s mane. Michael eventually looked back up at him, and signed something that Tubbo recognized as “Mimi come?”

“Yeah, bud, Mimi’s coming too.” Ranboo smiled patiently.

Michael squeezed his chicken plush again, then stood, pointing to the ladder.

“You need back up, Mikey? What’s up?” Tubbo asked.

“Need clothes and books and toys.”

“Oh, we’ve already got your stuff packed! Come look!” Ranboo reached around Tubbo and grabbed Michael’s backpack, a yellow one with a bee embroidered on the front.

Ranboo unzipped it, and Michael ran back over, gripping the backpack and looking inside. Ranboo helped him push the blankets aside, and Michael looked at all the clothes and toys they’d packed. He tapped his chin, and Tubbo had to hold back another laugh, because where had he even learned that from? After a couple moments, Michael zipped up the bag himself, and nodded firmly at Ranboo.

“You’re ready to go?” Tubbo asked.

Michael reached for his chicken plush, and Tubbo handed it to him. The toddler nodded.

“Alright. Are you feeling okay about it?” Ranboo placed the backpack beside the other bags as he spoke.

Michael frowned again.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s alright, bud. Do you feel sad?”

Michael shook his head almost immediately.

“Do you feel angry?”

“…No.”

Tubbo watched the interaction with a certain fondness. Ranboo was always so careful with explaining emotions to Michael, and trying to help Michael understand his own. It was sweet to watch.

Tommy obviously didn’t share the same sentiment. He didn’t say anything, but Tubbo noticed his fingers drumming anxiously against the floorboards. His other hand pet Enderchest with a fervour that the cat probably didn’t appreciate. Tubbo would have to thank him later for being so patient with Michael. Or, at least trying to.

“Do you feel nervous?”

Michael stopped for a minute, clutching his chicken close to his chest and mulling it over. Eventually he nodded, and Ranboo smiled gently, the way he always did when he spoke to Michael.

“That’s okay. Your Bee and I are gonna be right beside you the entire time, okay? And if you’re ever feeling nervous, you can tell one of us, and we’ll try to help. Is that okay?”

Michael nodded, and opened his arms for a hug, his chicken falling into Ranboo’s lap. Ranboo pulled him into a hug, not letting go until Michael did. The toddler then turned to Tubbo and did the same. Tubbo held him close to his chest, rocking them from side to side gently. Michael pulled away, and Tubbo did too, gently bonking their foreheads together before completely pulling away.

“You’re very brave, Michael. It’s not easy to do things you’re nervous about. We’re proud of you.” Tubbo ruffled the kid’s mane as Michael grinned.

“Alright. We’re gonna leave now, and you can sleep on the way, okay?”

Michael smiled and nodded, grabbing his blanket from Tubbo’s lap and wrapping it around himself haphazardly. Tubbo stood, followed by Ranboo, who picked up Michael and carried him over to the door. Tommy scratched Enderchest’s chin, then gently zipped up the duffel a bit more. He stood, grabbing his own bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

Tubbo grabbed his backpack and did the same as Ranboo buttoned Michael into his coat. Tubbo grabbed Michael’s hat and slid it on the toddler’s head before helping him with his boots. Tubbo slid on his own boots, tying them tightly. Ranboo grabbed Michael’s backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, then grabbed his duffel bag carefully. Tubbo picked Michael up, and they left the house.

They made it to the front yard, and Tubbo turned around one last time.

“You wanna say bye to the house, Michael?” He murmured.

“Bye bye house.” Michael’s words slurred together with tiredness, and Tubbo awed quietly.

He turned and began to walk away, but Michael grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled it gently, just enough to sting.

“Ow- what the-“ Tubbo took a deep breath, “What’s up, Michael?”

Michael pointed at the house.

“Picture.”

Ah. Of course. Ranboo had shown him their camera a few days ago, and the toddler had loved it. Of course he’d want a picture of the house. Tubbo turned to look at Ranboo, who shrugged, then slid Michael’s backpack off and grabbed a camera from inside. Tubbo sighed. One more quick detour wouldn’t hurt.

“Alright. Let’s go stand by the door.” He carried the toddler back up the front steps, and turned to face Ranboo and Tommy.

Ranboo readied the camera, before being slapped gently in the back of the head by Tommy. He looked back at Tommy with confusion, and Tommy rolled his eyes.

“Go stand with your family, dumbass.” Tommy held his hand open for the camera, looking everywhere but at Ranboo.

Tubbo laughed to himself as Ranboo visibly softened, handing Tommy the camera and making his way up the steps. He stood behind Tubbo, gently placing a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder.

They smiled, and the camera flashed a few times. Tommy pulled back, inspecting the photos for a minute, then gave them the thumbs up. They walked back over, and Michael poked Tommy, pointing at the camera.

“There you go. These pictures up to your standards Big M?” Tommy asked, showing them the camera.

Michael looked at the pictures, then nodded seriously.

“Good, wouldn’t want to disappoint.” Tommy ruffled Michael’s mane, then handed Ranboo the camera.

Ranboo carefully slid it back into Michael’s bag, and the four made their way to the docks.

Two boats were already tied to the docking points, and Ranboo must have set them up when Tubbo wasn’t looking, because Tubbo definitely hadn’t. Ranboo carefully made his way down the ladder and into the first boat, standing with his feet wide. Tubbo bit his lip.

This probably wouldn’t be a fun time for Ranboo, he wasn’t exactly great around water, for good reason. With any luck, they’d only need to travel by boat for a few hours, then they would find land and borrow (read: steal) some horses and travel horseback from there.

Ranboo gently placed his duffel bag in the bottom of the boat, sliding off Michael’s backpack and placing it beside the duffel. He then reached up towards Tubbo, and Tubbo carefully handed him Michael. The moment Tubbo let go, Ranboo sat down, clearly not trusting himself enough to hold their kid above water.

Tommy made his way into the second boat, tossing his bag on the floor as well. Tubbo climbed into Ranboo’s boat, but passed his backpack to Tommy, who put it beside his own. Tubbo sat down, then reached for Michael again. Ranboo handed the toddler over, then stood, untying the boat from the dock. Tommy did the same in the boat next to them.

Michael made himself comfortable in Tubbo’s lap, and, almost instantly, fell back asleep. Tubbo laughed gently and looked up to Ranboo, who was watching them with a look of fondness clear on his face.

“Alright, you guys can make doe eyes at each other once we get there, c’mon.” Tommy grinned as Ranboo spluttered, then began rowing.

Ranboo huffed, but followed suit. They began travelling Northeast.

“Our arms are gonna hurt so bad tomorrow.” Tommy stated tiredly.

“Worth it.” Ranboo smiled.

And they were off.

They’d done it. They’d escaped.

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theastrophilearchitect · 3 years ago

Text

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Writing journey #4.

15/05/2021 07.22 My break has officially been over for five days, and i have done some writing, but it’s been incredibly inconsistent, so I decided to start this blog post over. Bay Tree has been archived, and though FSB isn’t done, I’ve realised I need to take a step back. It’s why writers leave weeks at a time between drafts--so when they return, they’re in a different mindset, and can improve their work.

For this same reason, I need to take a step back before I finish my outline. My thought process is becoming monotonous, which means I’m losing my excitement. When you start a project, you have the idea in your head as perfect, and when those ‘vibes’ become tangible, it is less exciting. That’s unavoidable. But I just need to take a step back, so when I return, I have fresh ideas, and the plot becomes more exciting to me.

So today, I’m going to start brainstorming a new idea I had, which I don’t have an alias for yet, and I have an idea to essentially bind every project I have together, but not in Grishaverse- or Shadowhunters-style where you need to read ten books just to read the one you want. Just a nod to anyone who does read multiple, like when Aelin falls through worlds and sees Rhys and Feyre for a split second.

So. Let’s brainstorm.

My plan, I think, is to alternate weekly. This week, I’ll work on the new one, next week I’ll do FSB. I could just take this new idea and apply it to FSB, except I just don’t see how that would work. I have different worlds in mind, and this new one is a fantasy where FSB is sci-fi(/fantasy. It’s kinda both).

16/05/2021 07.07 I really wish I was a pantser. Even though I haven’t got to the editing stage, my favourite part of writing is implementing new ideas and making changes, but I’m just not a pantser. I need to know where each part is going. Instead, I have to sit here, brainstorming, for days, to figure everything out.

18/05/2021 07.06 I did a lot of work on the 16th, but I was busy yesterday, and didn’t get any writing done, because, when I was free, I was just reading. So, I’ve decided I’m going to at least write before I leave the house, which gives me about 45 minutes this morning.

23/05/2021 18.30 Based on the fact it has been five days, I think you can tell how good I’ve been about keeping writing. The problem is that I don’t actually have much past a concept for my new project, so I’m trying to figure out how, precisely, I could merge the two projects. FSB is interesting, but doesn’t have a huge amount of depth, which adding the characters from the new project would absolutely do, while the new project is lacking plot, which FSB (at least the first book I’ve planned) does. So, I’m going to start a new Scrivener project, and consider how I can merge the two concepts while implementing both plots.

Is it too much? I have only two main characters in FSB, but five in the newer one, which gives me seven main characters, divided into three groups. And do I want to write a book with so many separate storylines? I know readers (myself included) always end up favouring one storyline over another, getting annoyed when certain POVs come up. I don’t know what to do.

I could keep the new project, but implement FSB? Hold up. New Project (NP) has two protagonists who could undergo a similar development to the protagonists of FSB... I had a plan for the male protagonist of FSB, his arc, which wouldn’t work for NP’s male protagonist, but would work perfectly for its female protagonist...

Tumblr’s glitching. It wouldn’t let me reblog a post earlier, and now it won’t let me save this draft. Please, no.

Okay, so I had to copy what I’d written for today, disconnect and reconnect to the Wi-Fi, then wait for my drafts to load to paste it. Going great!

21.00 So I didn’t get a huge amount done, because I caught up doing ~evening things~, but I at least have a plan going forward, which is an accomplishment

30/05/2021 09.29 I’ve spent the last couple weeks doing everything I can to avoid writing, but i now have an insane amount of free time, so I have no excuse. I want to use this time in a productive way, and, for me, that means writing.

03/06/2021 10.31 I swear to god, I’ve had ‘writing’ on my to-do list every single day, except not doing it is probably my own fault, because it’s been so far down on the list. Also, I’m doing a buddy read, but am also unfortunately descending into a reading slump, so even reading 50 pages takes me about 90 minutes--they’re not even long pages.

I actually went back onto my old Wattpad account earlier, where I found a load of old, unfinished stuff, but none of it was as bad as I thought it would be, and the ideas weren’t bad. I just really have no idea what it is I’m writing right now, and I hate trying to figure it out.

11.30 There are so many Ss in the word ‘assassin’ this is not okay.

This is actually going so well. I have two storylines in my head, a complex cast of characters, and I’m so looking forward to plotting this.

04/06/2021 08.04 Look at me, two days in a row. Anyways, I’m thinking I ought to name these characters ASAP, because it’ll be easier to shape them to their names than it will be to find a name which fits them once they’ve been shaped.

14.41 Here’s what I’m realising: I like to pants plots, but I can’t do that while I’m actually drafting, so I think my plan is actually to bullet point everything that happens, then revise that, then start drafting, so the story is basically set in the first draft.

I’ve actually gone through a lot of stuff--I have workable plot material!

17.16 So, me being me, I’ve semi-outlined (I say semi-, it’s more like a tenth) a trilogy, meaning I have ideas for three books following this storyline, and it... makes sense. It’s the kind of story where I can follow multiple arcs, a few at a time, instead of several overarching ones, or maybe it’s just that I’m letting myself.

07/06/2021 16.44 I don’t have a damn clue what I’ve spent the day doing. I haven’t done anything in a couple days because it was the weekend and I was busy, but I’m back now. The thing is, I haven’t spent the day reading, watching, drawing, or doing anything, really--it’s escaped me. But, at the very least, I’ve relaxed, so who cares?

I’m not applying story structure to the ideas I’m having quite yet--rather, I’m just developing them to see how they bloom on their own, then I’ll fit it in; it just seems like a more natural and effective way to develop.

Yeah, no. It’s too late in the day for this. I have zero motivation.

08/06/2021 09.49 Maybe I’ll accomplish something today; who knows? Certainly not me.

I’m now applying the 3-act structure, but I’m realising I have way too many details worked out for this--switching to more acts.

22.20 Why am I doing this to myself? I wish I could say I’m not entirely sure, but it’s because I can’t sleep, because this project, and my character Lihan, are the only things I can think about, so here I am. I don’t want to be a night writer, but que sera sera (I wish I could type accents on an English keyboard).

23.22 I accomplished more in the last hour on this project than I have in the last four days.

09/06/2021 - 1,115 words 09.29 I really hope I don’t prove today that night-writing is my sweet spot--I don’t want it to be. Can the world just let me have a functional sleep schedule??

Anyways, so, as I’ve mentioned before, I use Scrivener, which enables me to sort which documents are part of the manuscript from the ones that aren’t. I’ve been working outside of the manuscript, but I think I’m going to move them into it--I have a plan I believe will be more effective for my own drafting. I think I very much need the events to be set in stone before I begin writing in actual prose, so how can I do that? Especially when I also enjoy pantsing, but not in prose?

Here’s the plan: I plot out the main events, then bullet point everything in very high detail, similar to what many people call a zero draft, in which they draft a book in short form. I’ll sort the bullet points into chapters (but not scenes, because as I discovered with Bay Tree, I find scene-blocking makes the narrative less natural), leave it alone a while, then revise, so I can have my plot more-or-less set in stone before I work on prose.

As a result, I’m going to shift my plotting into the manuscript section, because it is, essentially, an early draft, and also I want a word count as a progress metre.

13/06/2021 - 1,611 words 8.18 Alas, I have been busy the last few days, but I’m here now.

9.20 The amount of secrets and who-knows-what in this story is genuinely absurd, but I’m sure I’ll clean it up eventually.

14.01 A few days ago, I came across a post about balancing large casts, which is exactly what I have, and the first thing it mentioned was the two-trait rule, in which every character has two traits completely unique to them, to help both reader and writer differentiate. Which I’m now going to implement.

14.42 I have these two characters, and I know exactly what I want their dynamic to be, except I can’t decide who should be which part of it.

I have made my decision. It probably works better now, but it does alter their roles, so I need to fix that.

I literally swapped them round solely because I decided one was taller than the other and thought it would be more interesting if the short one was the sadist. Why do I make my own life so difficult?

14/06/2021 - 1,574 words 11.08 I didn’t make an enormous amount of progress yesterday, but I did make some, and made notes of ideas for relationship arcs last night, so I count that a victory (forced optimism--surprisingly effective). I’m currently just working through bullet-pointing book one, while making notes of events I want in the rest of the series (I’m projecting three books, and telling myself I will finish them). I’m currently fiddling with one of my storylines to see how I can mould it to FSB’s and OH MY GOODNESS I JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA must take notes, one moment pleaseeee.

Okay, so I have four bullet points for relationship arcs and an idea to adjust one of the storylines--I’d say I have six main characters, two of whom are really the protagonists, two of which are my favourites, and the other two are fun, but in need of development. They’re split into a group of four and a pair, and I’m definitely more into the storyline of the four, mostly because the four contains my two favourites, and it’s more developed than that of the pair.

I’ve been keeping a list of things to add: motivations, loose plot threads, plot points I want to include--I really need to re-organise it.

On another note, I am so glad I named the characters as early as I did. I’m debating having two of the characters swap names, but I don’t think I will, because I will absolutely mix them up, and one of them is part of the perfect ship name.

My mouse isn’t working. I changed the batteries, but it’s not working, so now I get the joy of trying to figure out if the batteries I put in are just old or if the mouse no longer works, which would suck.

Yes, I’m going to describe this. Mostly because when I changed the batteries the first time, it took a minute to stop working, and this will waste a minute. So, first set of batteries, which we’ll call set 1, don’t work. I don’t know if it’s both or just one, but if it’s one, I don’t want to throw away both. I take out set 1, I put in set 2. Set 2 works perfectly. So it’s not the mouse. Now I take out battery 2B, and replace it with 1A, so I have 1A and 2A in here. I know 2A works, but I’m not sure about 1A, but the mouse works, so 1A is fine. Let’s replace 1A with 1B.

Yep. 1B is the problem child. 1A works fine, but 1B doesn’t. Lovely. Crisis averted. It would’ve really sucked it I had to get a new mouse. And back to writing!

12.13 I’m bouncing between documents as I organise, which means my word count is actually decreasing, so I feel like I’m making significantly less progress than I am.

I just realised my two protagonists are cousins. I’ve had it in my head that one’s father was the brother of the other’s father, but somehow I didn’t realise that makes them cousins.

I’m about to delete a list because I’ve reformatted it--my word count is currently at 1,958, but is really about to drop.

AND NOW WE’RE AT 1,572. My session word count is -32. Minus thirty-two. I hate it here, but it’s fine, because we’re ~developing~.

15/06/2021 - 2,113 words 09.39 It’s not even technically summer yet, but it’s too hot, and I hate it here. All the windows are open, so everything’s cool, there’s a nice breeze, and lots of light, but the birds are so loud, and I have to keep all the doors closed because the open windows send them swaying and slamming. You know when you close a door when all the windows are open and it slams? Yep. Not into it.

I feel like every day I try a new way to organise my plotting. I’m unsure as to whether that’s helping me or holding me back, because it forces me to review what I have, which usually sparks new ideas, but I’m not convinced I’ll ever get to the end as long as I keep doing this.

21/06/2021 13.40 I spent the latter half of last week with zero motivation, then I was busy at the weekend, but I’m here now. I’ve been trying to make myself write basically all day--I have a plan, and a list of things I’ve come up with the last few days, but I just couldn’t make myself do it. I’m not in a good mood, but maybe this will help.

I have, however, just reminded myself that I need to prepare this week’s post, because I sincerely doubt either this or my ongoing Recent reads will be ready for Friday. Actually, if I do quite a bit of writing this week, this post might be, but I’m not willing to bet on it.

And oh, crap, now I just want to write a blog post.

No. No I don’t. I started looking at the list of ideas I had, and now I’m just not feeling it. I’m pretty sure when I open my document for this project I’ll lose all motivation too, but it’s worth a shot.

There’s a specific relationship in an anime I recently watched that I want to pull apart--there’s this ship, and the author of the manga has called the two characters ‘soulmates’. There’s just this huge amount of tension between the two, and I want to re-watch the show because I love it, but also so I can take notes to figure out what was so effective about it.

13.53 I’ve been doing this for 13 minutes, but I do think I need to leave this project/outline alone for a bit, give it an opportunity to ruminate, to evolve. In truth, I may not even come back to it until I’ve re-watched the anime I was talking about so I can tear that ship to pieces.

17.33 So I just learned brainstorming is apparently significantly easier on paper. Hm. I’ve just worked out so damn much, stuff I’ve been struggling with.

18.00 I have successfully tied up so many plot threads, simply by working with pen and paper. This is revolutionary. (I know, not really, but it is for me, someone adamant about working with a keyboard and monitor)

22/06/2021 09.42 Seriously, why did I never try actually working on paper before? Something about holding a pen to paper and scribbling and drawing a mindmap--it just works. I’ve been obstinate about avoiding working on paper because I hate physically writing, yet here we are.

25/06/2021 11.09 I’m really not managing much reading at the moment--since I started reading manga, my attention span has just gone down the drain. I’m currently reading Mister Impossible by Maggie Stiefvater, and I don’t think it helped that I had to stop less than a third of the way in to do a buddy read, but I just don’t have much motivation to read it, though I do so want to. I haven’t been listening much to audiobooks lately either, because when I’d usually listen--when I’m getting dressed, waking up, going to bed etc.--I just want to listen to music, because I also recently fell down the well of k-pop, and the group whose discography I’m getting to know at the moment is BTS. Basic, but they’re the fifth group I’m doing, and they have so many songs. Which would happen after eight years, but still.

I want to read so, so badly, but I just don’t feel like reading Mister Impossible. But I do want to finish it before reading anything else. I think I’ll finish my current audiobook, then if I’m still feeling stagnated in Mister Impossible, I’ll switch to the audiobook of that, then just take a break from reading until I’m ready to actually read.

But this post is for writing, not reading. I did write on the 23rd, but I just didn’t update this post. The 24th I was busy, but my wall is now covered in post-it notes of world-building, characters, gods, plot points, and a whole load of other stuff.

Also, I had an idea for a book title this morning--not for this one, just in general--and when I went to add it to my list, I found a title that would so suit this project. I don’t want to say it, but let’s just say this project will be called ItLotG--or not. That’s a hideous combination of letters. I promise it is actually a good title.

11.52 I’m having another crisis over these two characters. I’m thinking it would make more sense to have L’s betrayal ‘arc’ initiated before the catalyst, or rather have it be the catalyst, except the problem there is that they’re not in the city they need to be in to receive that offer.

UNLESS,,,, what if this point happens just while they’re in the capital.... I’ve got it.

17.16 I’ve been taking notes this whole time of everything I want to happen in books 2 and 3, and I have so much now i think they’ll be so much easier to plot than this one.

The downside of working mostly on paper is that my plans on Scrivener have been refined to one document, which is now only 878 words.

Right now, there’s a glaring hole between the midpoint and the ending, but my climax is one of those where the climax itself is a very small part of a bigger event, so if I figure out what I want to happen in this big event which is essentially the whole of the third act, I should be able to fill in the rest of Act Two with the setup for that.

So I’m leaving it there for both today and this post. In the last month or so, I decided to start over and mash two projects together, which created a whole new storyline I love, and now I’m mostly done with the first outline. I want to treat outlines as more than just preparation for drafts, because I find notes so much easier to edit than actual prose, and I hate writing without a clear idea of where I’m going.

I think I’m going to call these ‘runs’--an outline is a run through, a draft a run through, so I’m nearly done with my first run, and I’m very proud of that, so go, go write the idea you have, drink some water, take a nap if you need one, eat if you haven’t eaten in a few hours, and I’ll be back with another writing update innnnnnn probably august, honestly.

Go write that idea!

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