#as does having creative community

[epersonae]

🌻 what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

I think I have three varieties of "want to give up on writing"

The first is one that I don't worry about so much any more, which was the long drought of, oh, 2003 to 2017, where I just didn't have any kind of writing community and I was deeply unhappy for other reasons, and writing felt like something that I had had and lost. The second is a sort of "between things" feeling, which I get to a lesser extent after finishing something big, sort of that "well that's done, I don't have anything else", and which I had to a greater extent from basically the start of the pandemic until OFMD: I had written through most of my Adventure Zone concepts, and then also the pandemic, and the personal horrors, and so there's this little "but maybe you'll never write again!" voice.

and then there's just boring old imposter syndrome self-doubt, which I've been fighting like mad lately: there's something not quite right about some chunk of dialogue or a description and so maybe I'm just not a good writer, or not as good as I want to be, and I'm being too ambitious, and it's like a little temper tantrum that I have to let pass.

because it does, it passes.

and like, I've been writing since I was 9 or 10 years old, and getting it back when I got into fanfiction (six years ago next week, I think!) has been such an overwhelmingly positive experience -- I don't want to let that go. the experience of writing, and having a community of writing, is something that I cherish so much. that's what keeps me going.

that I know what it feels like to do what I set out to do with a piece, to enjoy the experience of being in flow with a story, to play in the space with other people, to grow creatively, to get good feedback, to look back on what I've done and feel pleased with it.

that keeps me going.

[fic writer asks]

[amethystpath-writes]

To Traitors

NOT A PR0MPT

******

"The general wants to send me to your homeland."

"For war?"

Villain hummed. "We knew it was coming."

"Of course." Hero shook her head and pushed a shirt further into the bucket of water. She bent it and twisted it and shoved it again. "How did she react when you told her 'no'?"

That was the thing; Villain didn't deny the general. No one denied the general.

Hero picked up on the silence. She always did. “Where does that leave us?”

A choice.

War?

Or her?

“You know this decision is not mine.”

"Sure, it is. I always wanted to travel- try camping."

Camping. Hero knew rejecting orders would be considered traitorous. She would rather be homeless and shunned than to standby while her homeland was being attacked.

"Hero..."

"Is that something you are not willing to do?" Her movements became rushed, like she was trying to maintain a calm, but the only way to do so was to move along with the emotions. She grabbed a shirt, dunked it, rung it, tossed it. Grab, dunk, ring. Grab, dunk, ring. They weren't even becoming clean, and the water needed changed. "My family is there. Where are they meant to go?"

"Even if I did tell the general no, I cannot stop an entire army from marching. The war will happen with or without me."

A sigh veiled the tension in the room. Villain's weight creaked beneath him as he stepped towards his lover. He took a linen shirt, wet and soaked, from her hands, and dropped it in the brown water. He found her hands next, then tugged her up slightly. She took the cue and stood, let herself be held.

"I love you," Villain said.

Hero didn't like crying. This is why Villain began rubbing her back as he pulled her into an embrace. She buried her face into his chest and sniffed once, twice...wiped a face full of tears, sniffed again...stopped, then began sobbing. No amount of squeezing could console the thought of her family being innocently slaughtered.

"You would hide them, wouldn't you? If you found them, you would save them?"

His grip loosened. He whispered, “Of course I would.” Did Hero know it might have been a lie? Even Villain wasn't sure what he would do when the time came that he marched onto her homeland.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Then I'm leaving now." She attempted to pull away from Villain's chest, but he held her firmly. Her muscles tensed beneath him, but Villain knew she knew better than to try again.

"Hero, be level-headed.

"I want to warn them," she whispered, so quietly that Villain only knew what she said because of how well he knew her. He knew her every thought before she even had it herself. It wasn't magic; just love.

"And you think you will outrun an entire army overnight?"

"I know I won't!" her tone had changed, and this time when she pulled away, she didn't stop until Villain let her go. "But who am I to not try at all? Who would I be, Villain?" Her face was red and swollen, glistening with sad, then angry tears.

For a moment, she stopped. She took a breath. then swallowed as if she needed to stop herself from asking what obviously came to her mind. Alas, she said it. "How long have you known?" Her voice cracked, and Villain could see she already knew the answer: longer than he should have known before telling her.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask for an apology." Her eyes refused to meet his. Villain was almost glad for it. He couldn't bear her anger, not when it was directed at him. "I asked how long you have known."

"Hero..."

"Clean your own damn clothes. I'll pay the Baker family back when I return."

"Pay them back? For w-" No. "You're not taking their horse." Hero was already scrounging around, first grabbing a raggedy sack, then stuffing one random item after another in. "Hero, stop. Hero-" She was going to take the neighbor's horse just to get caught up in the war herself. "Stop!"

She fell to her knees in the next moment. Broke down as if his voice took out the last support beam keeping the house together. hero cried, screamed, and wailed. "No. No. No. No. No," she repeated, and her voice broke time and time again as she screamed.

Tears sprung into Villain's eyes. What did he do?

"I'll send a bird. It will arrive before our army does, and when they receive it, they will know to leave."

Hero's head lifted, and her puffy eyes finally met Villain's glistening ones. "I will prepare beds. We have pelts; I can throw something together, and my brother can take-"

One blow after another, each and every passing moment. Just when Villain thought all might be well, the both of them realized there was no saving anyone. The war was an ambush, and Hero's brother would be expected to take a stand, to protect his own homeland.

"I won't-" Villain swallowed. "I won't harm your family. I will send the bird, and I will pray with every moment of travel that they receive it and leave. I will not draw my sword until I find their home empty, until I am sure they have left."

"You would be a traitor to your own kingdom."

"Better it this kingdom than you."

[mirkodoesstuff]

Hot take: I think there should be more non-object AND non-joke characters, that would be important for either their OCs lore, their show lore etc., because who wouldn't love to have an OC, who's, for example, a cat that is actually important and isn't there to just make a joke about how they're not an object or just do nothing and get eliminated/get hated.

Like, seriously, why are you all afraid of making interesting non-object characters, that aren't joke characters? Of course I have nothing against non-object joke characters, because I love Yellow Face from BFDI series and also I really like David and Dora, but MAN things could be way cooler if there were more non-object non-joke characters, who were for example guards over objects, or even were a co-host, or heck, had lots of knowledge over objects.

Just imagine the scenerio, where a bunch of objects need help and, instead of going to the host of the competition/their other friends - they decide to go to, for example, a cat to ask for an advice for help and the cat actually helps, instead of being there for humour. Or even better - a group of objects have to save the world from something and they're deciding to get help from a dragon, who helps them get rid of the danger!

Just imagine it... Imagine it how epic those things would become if we got to see more important non-object non-joke characters!

GET CRAZY WITH YOUR OBJECT SHOW OCS! DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT WOULD OTHER PEOPLE THINK! DO WHAT YOU WANNA DO!

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots part 9

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

“And so-” The priestess' voice drew my attention back, ringing with ugly power. We had missed… something. It felt important. If only I knew what. “Do you have any last words?”

We all turned to Athena, us and the cultists and whatever gods there might be. A thousand eyes stared up at the tiny woman bound up, on her knees atop the altar, her gag released so she could say one last thing.

And true to her nature, she hawked a great gob of saliva and spat at the priestess' face. “Go fuck yourself,” Athena proclaimed, chin raised defiantly.

“So be it,” the priestess replied, and gestured to a servant. We'd wasted too much time bickering, I realised. Too much time. Perhaps Brett had been right, after all. Not that my admitting it couldn't do anything.

Perhaps- Perhaps Brett could save her. He was strong, and fast, and- Oh, if only I'd gone with him. If only I had looked past my petty grievances earlier. I really was always too late to save anyone, was I? Right from the very first time someone had died on me, I should have known. I was no Doc. I was a failure.

But I had to hope. I had to hope that Brett could right my wrong. I had to hope, even as the priestess took her ceremonial dagger from an awed worshipper, even as she raised it with a black-toothed smile, even as-

Commotion on the other side of the cultists told me Brett had been intercepted, that he didn't make it, that our one chance to save her had failed. The priestess raised her dagger. Its light glinted like a sudden glimpse of the sun across the horizon. Athena screamed bloody murder, curses and obscenities and the murderous rage that lay in her heart. I screamed too, and reached out. Mrin let out a gasp.

And that was it.

It was a sudden limpness, a voice cut short, a flicker of false sun dashed by blood. The priestess raised a triumphant, gorey hand and grinned right at me. “So it is done,” she announced. “The sacrifice has been made. She has been summoned. Welcome, our Lady!”

Something bubbled out of Athena's chest, something grey-white and squirming. Her body jerked upright, cracking its neck with a sickening twist, shoulders jerking like a prop from a bad zombie movie. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal two eyeballs quickly overwhelmed with crawling things.

Mrin let out a gasp beside me. “Maggots,” she whispered. “We have to get Brett and run.”

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[lunar-wandering]

I genuinely think so many people have forgotten the fact of "there are no toxic fandoms, only toxic people".

When fandoms get big, of course the amount of people u want nothing to do with is also gonna get bigger.

Youre not meant to combat them. Youre not meant to talk about them and expose others to them.

Youre meant to block them at the first signs and continue to enjoy your experience interacting with other people.

Kill the weeds, don't let the seeds spread, reap your wheat and enjoy your bread.

[servicetopkaradanvers]

Big fandoms "die" because writers and artists and giffers get sick of being treated like content dispensers.

[morganmnemonic]

Vivziepop hatters are made of weeker stuff. Like, their argument is that you shouldn't like the show because it's bad. The last show I followed as it came out was miraculous ladybug. "The show is bad"?? Bitch, you ain't seen nothin'

[kateubanks]

teen angst

for me, teen angst looked like a raw, visceral hatred for my prettier, more affluent peers. rich bitches who drove roaring broncos — a birthday present from daddy, the richest farmer in the county. girls who, come prom season, will roam the halls with too-warm spray tans and nails that click furiously on their phone screens. snakes in basketball shorts and boater shoes who treat their semi-circle of gripped whiteclaws like camp david.

i couldn't stand them, and i wanted nothing more than to be them. those girls were beautiful. they were smart, and teachers liked them more than me. they were never without someone to share the experience with — a friend to advise on prom dresses, cry on about the evils of #college app szn, and whine to about the boy in basketball shorts and boater shoes.

their lives were simple. they did school, cheer, hair appointments. their parents served warm, sit-down dinners every night. they had little siblings that annoyed them and parties to keep them busy. their last names bought them security.

they never had to wash clothes in the bathtub and dry them on the space heater. they never had to close the store at three and make it to school by seven. they never worried about how next month's rent was getting paid, and they never felt truly, deeply that the things they wanted were unattainable.

i thought they pitied me, and i hated them for it. they don't know me. my life makes me better, smarter, more equipped than them. i would never want to be them.

and yet, when i found myself in the midst of the elusive creatures, i fawned. i pretended. in my stained rags, i made myself like one of them.

[cowcowwow]

THE TREE TRIPLETS,,,

[raineandsky]

#11

“I must thank you for rescuing my daughter,” the king announces to the knight kneeling at the foot of his throne. “I have been waiting years for her to return to me. Your reward must be higher than the stars in the sky, knight.”

“My reward is knowing she is home safe, your highness,” the knight replies quickly. The princess hadn��t been particularly grateful for her freedom, and had complained the entire way back, saying the saddle was uncomfortable or the sun too hot or the road too bumpy or the tavern they stopped in too full of commoners. She’s not even here for the money anymore – the job is done and she just wants out.

“No, no, don’t be ridiculous!” The king waves her off with a sigh, standing from his throne to trundle down the steps towards her. “I would be honoured to know a knight of such a calibre is protecting my daughter.”

The knight has to hold back a horrified choke at his words. “Oh, no disrespect your highness, but I can assure you there are other knights more fitting to be a personal guard for her. I have to–”

The king stops her with a curt raise of his hand, and she immediately goes quiet. “Of course not, knight.” He huffs a laugh, motioning for her to stand. “The highest dignity I can bestow upon you is her hand in marriage.”

The guard outside the princess’s door doesn’t think twice as the knight passes him to enter. The next in line is sprawled on the four-poster bed with the lowest amount of decorum she’s ever seen in a member of the royal family, flipping lazily through a book in front of her. The knight clears her throat loudly to announce her presence, and the princess shrieks like there’s an assassin coming at her. The lack of response from the guard outside makes her think that the princess reacts like this more often than not.

“Oh, it’s you,” she says with a hint of exasperation. “What?”

“Uh.” The knight can’t believe she’s the one having to break this news. “Your father wants me to… marry you.”

The princess rolls on her bed to hoist herself more upright, meeting her gaze with a mix of dismay and disgust. “He what?”

“Apparently he wants me to be your sole protector or something.” She steps further into the room to lean against one of the posters supporting the bed. “I can assure you I don’t particularly want this either.”

“No shit I don’t want this!” The knight flinches at the barbarity of her words. “Why would he say that? I don’t like you!”

“Feeling’s mutual,” is all the response she gets, and she lets out a deep groan of annoyance.

The princess hauls herself to her feet with a resolute “ugh!” before crossing her room and throwing the wardrobe door open. “Well, I’m not marrying you.”

The knight watches as she lugs a seemingly random bundle of clothes out of the closet. “I think the king tends to get what he wants, princess.”

“Not if his daughter can help it.” She pulls a dirty bag out from under her bed, grimacing at the mud it drops on the covers as she sets it down. “I’m not hanging around to get married to someone I don’t even like.”

“Princess,” the knight starts slowly. She’s trained in military surprises, but as she watches the woman shove oversized clothes into the satchel she knows she’s out of her depth. “Maybe you should speak with your father before you do anything rash.”

“As if I’m going to reason with a man who tries to hand me off to the first person to do him a favour.” The bag is closed with a heartless thunk. “Now, I am going to use these sheets to climb out this window and not get married. I won’t survive in the big wide world alone - my dad refused to teach me how to fight. Hurry up.”

The knight watches in a fog of confusion and dread as the princess ties some of her sheets together and launches them from her window, dropping the satchel out ahead of her. She hefts a leg over the windowsill resolutely, glancing back at the woman still watching her from inside the royal room she’s never going to see again. “If at any point you try to go behind my back and tell my dad, I’ll shank you.”

And with that she dips out of sight, leaving the knight to dumbly follow behind her.

[lustbcrne]

There are times when Kaeya does deliberately do or say things to genuinely aggravate someone he is sleeping with, all with the very intention of having them really put him through the ringer, particularly when he’s extremely upset about something or the ache in his body is beyond a tolerable level and he desperately wants something to distract him from it

[yappacadaver]

I scream and cry and beat my head against the wall every time I can feel him drifting apart from me (fictional character that isn’t real)

[deviousdiesel]

.

[seaglassdinosaur]

Remembering that two long-running arcs of the Origami Yoda series regarding Dwight were his classmates becoming real friends with him as they stop seeing him as the ‘weird kid’ and connecting with him as a person, and Dwight starting and continuing to date Caroline, the girl he likes. These arcs present to the (presumably neurotypical) audience, an autistic-coded character as someone nuanced and human, who is capable and desirable as a partner and friend, encouraging the idea of looking past dismissive judgements of strangeness and to try to understand people, and even if you can’t, accept them and appreciate them for who they are.

[moonsidesong]

sometimes i read critiques on inanimate insanity and im like. ok maybe the reason the magic on the show is lost on me now just because im not a young teenager anymore. meanwhile two from tpot can literally do anything at all and i will cheer and clap loudly and smile bigly at my screen so who knows how true that is