#but there is no improvement without mistakes

[lovelytayforce]

I agree with this comment here so hard, I remember getting blasted for calling readers who don't comment "leeches" on R/Fanfiction and I'm glad people are seeing that for what it is even if it's four years late

So, I'm gonna share my own little story here because discord has actively ruined communities for fanfic (and art too I'm not gonna leave y'all out cause my bestie @zoetiger-1106 is an artist who deserves way more praise than she gets!!) The reason why authors and myself see the "I'm shy" shit as an excuse is because the same people will type long ass tirades on Discord without a single thought. YOU CAN EDIT AO3 COMMENTS PEOPLE! If you make a mistake, read it back over and edit it. I've watched it happen in real-time with one of my favorite commenters on my one-shot where they left a short gushing comment and then came back and wrote more, you have no excuse much less reason to go "Man fandom keeps telling me to not critique and I might make a mistake so I will say nothing and consume like the average TV and Streaming consumer who thinks there doing something!" YOU have a lot of power with comments and even those bookmark tags hell just copy-paste what you put into those bookmark tags as a comment I DON'T CARE AT THIS POINT USE THAT LIL BOX TO VOICE SOMETHING!!!! God this is all over the place idc but I read back at those bookmarks, and saw people call my works the best and super cool and I APPRECIATE THAT but tell me! Stop taking the easy route, I been blasted for misunderstandings over comments multiple times cause people take my "tone" terribly cause it sucks being black and emotive online yay and for some reason people think !!!! Is bad? yes, I've been hit with that but I keep on trucking cause fuck whatever some weirdo thinks about exclamation points! Anyways back to discord and why I hate it now, I was in a small fandom, KFP got invited to a discord cause ONE person commented on my works and saw they talked about my fic, and at first, I was happy and people TALKED about my chapters at length in the fanfic channel. I basically was the ONLY ONE posting consistently in that channel and it was great but also I wanted that on my fic to show I improved so guess what I did? I went all in trying to one-up myself to be noticed, to have the acclaim my peers did so it would evolve outside of discord channels but it never happened. And Imma tell y'all now; it never will. Readers prefer convenience over your hard work, they are not gonna take time for you no matter how much you improve. People told me over and over while I looked for solutions for this; "We can't make commenting look like an obligation." "Add more prose, space these paragraphs better" all this just for no one to take the initiative and say something SINCERE towards a work they love on it. I've had to tell my own ex-friends now to go leave comments on works they called Masterpieces while ignoring me. Despite the fact they wanted Gen content in which I WROTE. Or met people who have very weird "I don't review" rules for themselves despite getting motivated by reviews themselves!! We're in a shitty time for creatives much less community cause we don't see each other as humans much less want to treat each others as we desire to be treated. Fanfic readers want to treat authors like showrunners and I hate it. But then your peers will tell you 'not to worry about engagement" and no I am because why is my hit count going up every day but ain't no one saying shit? Make it make sense!! I sat in that community commenting as much as I could, especially on long fics; it wasn't all perfect but I TRIED. I didn't expect shit back but hey it would have been nice but it never happened and again I learned; it never would. That's the real issue, no one wants to give no more; just take and take and take til you're sucked dry of passion worse than any corpo out right now. It's why I thankfully switched fandoms. I got ONE consistent commenter and they are better than that ENTIRE SMALL CLOSED COMMUNITY!! So, to any discord reactor for fanfic you better skip on to that message you made and copy and paste it in this box right here and never utter "I'm shy" ever again cause we see you, our friends tell us about you. You are not as anonymous as you think! 🫵🏽

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[lemon-berri]

A Side That Only You Get to See

Most people know Satoru Gojo as the strongest sorcerer. A formidable force, renowned for his power. Respected by sorcerers and feared by curses and curse users alike. To those who do not know him, he's paramount to a legend. Untouchable. Unreachable.

While the people who work closely with him know another side. The irreverent, goofy sorcerer who fools around on the job and plays pranks on his colleagues. They're all too familiar with his boisterous laugh and unconventional ways. And while his students still respect him, they're comfortable around him like they might be with a friend, or a family member.

That's who he is. A warm personality that lights up a room. Someone who cares deeply for those around him, even if his ways of showing it are unusual. Someone who wants to improve the world around him.

But nobody knows the Gojo you do.

The one who comes home in the early hours of the morning, just to rest in his partners arms. Who's sometimes late to work because he cannot bring himself to let you go. He's enraptured by your touch, lulled into peace by your scent. He's quiet at home, a stark contrast to his usual personality. But he prefers to bask in your presence, to listen to your voice as you tell him about your day, or whatever new interest you've picked up.

The sorcerer who comes home from missions a day early without telling anyone so he can steal some more time with the one he loves. Who plans elaborate surprises, cooks for you and buys you a fresh bouquet every week. He prefers a quiet night at home rather than going out. That way he gets more of your attention.

The Gojo who's easily bored, because he's naturally good at everything, but still takes part in your hobbies and interests. He lets you teach him things he already knows, and sometimes pretends to mess up just so he can see the passion in your eyes as you explain where he went wrong. His cerulean eyes light up whenever you  show him something you've created, and he'll buy you all the supplies you need, if only to see that smile.

Your Satoru, who's love language is physical touch. Who, before meeting you, had kept a barrier between himself and the rest of the world for so long that he'd become afraid to let it down. Who now clings onto you whenever you're home. He gets pouty if you're in sight but not touching him - so make sure to pay extra attention to his facial expressions.

Truly, if anyone else saw him like this he wouldn't care. He's not ashamed to show the world how much he loves you. But a part of him likes the way things are. Its like a secret, between just the two of you. As if your home exists in a world of its own, away from all the curses and higher ups and daily stress. So for now, he'll save his soft side, just for you. A side that only you get to see.

Soooooo I sorta went MIA for a few weeks.. but as we already established I do not have a post schedule so it's okay (right?).

Thank you guys for reading this! As usual it's not proofread and if you point out my spelling mistakes I'll leave and never come back.

Ily all 🩵

[zerun0]

"More Than Flesh" —Trans!Viktor x Y/N (Female)

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I am more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work. — ! WARNING NSFW(+18): ! — Sexual themes, FTM, Trans!Viktor, Sex, Flirting, Making out, Teasing, Strap on, Vaginal. — Word count: — 2.5k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The golden light of a Piltovian morning poured into Viktor’s academy dormitory, casting long beams across the desk cluttered with blueprints, notebooks, and mechanical parts. His side of the room was as orderly as his mind, each piece meticulously placed, yet the evidence of late-night brainstorming sessions was everywhere.

A crumpled scrap of paper here, a half-finished sketch pinned haphazardly there. The faint scent of ink, metal, and oil lingered in the air, mingling with the cool freshness of the morning.

You sat cross legged on the edge of Viktor’s bed, holding the tube of testosterone gel in your hands. He stood near the window, shirtless, letting the morning sun warm his skin. His chest bore the faint, pale lines of his top surgery scars, a quiet testament to the journey he’d undertaken to become himself. The scars didn’t take away from his sharp beauty; they added to it, each line a piece of his story. You couldn’t help but, Admire him. “You’ve been staring,”— Viktor teased, his accented voice carrying a warmth that broke the stillness. He glanced over his shoulder at you, a playful smile touching his lips. — “Have I suddenly become fascinating?”

“Always” — You said, patting the space in front of you. — “...You have always been”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he moved toward you with a slight limp, his cane tapping softly against the floor. Viktor rarely asked for help, but in these small, quiet moments, he trusted you without hesitation. He settled onto the bed facing you, the sunlight catching the faint freckles on his shoulders.

“You could probably manage this yourself,” — you said, squeezing a small drop of the gel onto your fingers, — “but where’s the fun in that without my top-notch care?” Viktor huffed a quiet laugh, leaning forward slightly to give you better access. — “I’m not certain what I’d do without your boundless expertise,” — he said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

Gently, you spread the gel across the top of his shoulders, making sure to wear gloves of course, your fingers gliding over his skin with care. His shoulders tensed briefly at the coolness of the gel before relaxing under your touch.

You worked in slow, even strokes, mindful of applying it evenly. You couldn’t help but linger there for a moment, tracing the lines with reverence, you didn’t try to hide your soft gaze upon his scars, they are beautiful.

So beautiful… “You’re staring again,” — Viktor murmured, his voice softer this time.

“Can you blame me?” — you replied, pressing your palm flat against his chest for a moment, grounding him and yourself in the connection. — “These are part of you, Viktor. Every bit of you is worth admiring.”

He turned his head slightly, just enough for you to catch the faintest smile curving his lips. — “You’re hopeless,” — he said, though the words were filled with warmth.

“Hopelessly in love,” — you corrected, reaching for a tissue to wipe your hands. — “Alright, all set. Don’t put your shirt on for a bit, okay?”

“Do I look so impatient?” — he asked, standing slowly, steadying himself with his cane. He stretched his arms a little, testing his range of motion.

“Not impatient, just eager to get back to saving the world,” — you teased, leaning back on your hands as you watched him move to the window. Viktor stood there for a moment, the golden light catching the faint sheen of the gel still drying on his shoulders. His profile was striking, the curve of his jaw, the softness in his lips, and the quiet confidence that lingered in his every movement.

“You give me far too much credit,” — he murmured, his voice low, almost as if he were speaking to himself. He glanced over his shoulder at you, his gaze warm and lingering. — “You’re the one who makes any of it feel... worth it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, tugging at something deep inside you. Rising from the bed, you crossed the room to him, your steps unhurried but purposeful. When you reached him, you slid your arms around his waist from behind, resting your palms on his stomach and leaning into the warmth of his back. Viktor stiffened briefly, more out of habit than discomfort, before melting into your touch.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” — you whispered.

He exhaled softly, one hand coming to rest atop yours where it lay against his stomach. — “You always find the words to disarm me,” — he admitted, his voice tinged with a vulnerability he rarely let show. He turned slightly in your embrace, his golden eyes locking onto yours. — “How do you manage that?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” — you murmured, your voice barely above a breath. You raised your hand to trace the faint line of his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek as you leaned in closer. — “Every time I look at you, I feel like I’m the one who’s been undone.”

Viktor tilted his head, leaning into your touch, his eyes half-lidded as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips. — “Then perhaps we’re equally guilty,” — he said softly, his voice a low murmur.

Your breath hitched as his fingers, calloused from hours of tinkering, caressed the side of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss, when it came, was slow and deliberate, the kind that unraveled you bit by bit. Viktor wasn’t the type to rush; his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your knees feel weak. His free hand found your waist, steadying you, his touch firm yet, so gentle.

The sensation of his skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine, the faint scars beneath your fingers grounding you in the reality of this moment.

Delicately, he walked you backward until the edge of the bed pressed against the backs of your thighs. His kisses trailed down your jaw, then to the soft curve of your neck. He paused there, his breath warm against your skin as he lingered, his nose brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. The way he held you, firm yet so achingly careful, made your chest swell with desire, love, trust, and the understanding that this moment was as significant to him as it was to you.

As you sank down onto the bed, Viktor placed his cane aside and followed, his movements deliberate, as if savoring every second. His weight settled gently over you, his hands bracketing your sides, his gaze fixed on you with intensity. The sunlight streaming through the window painted his features in soft gold, highlighting the faint freckles across his nose and the sheen of his top surgery scars.

Your fingers found the waistband of his pants, hesitating slightly. Viktor’s hand covered yours, his touch steady as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Slow,” — he murmured, his voice a quiet plea. — “I want to savor this.”

You nodded, your chest tightening from the tenderness in his words. Together, you moved in a silent accord, peeling away the layers of fabric that separated you. Each piece of clothing removed felt like shedding the weight of the world. Now bare and unguarded, your hands roamed over his body, tracing his hips, then down the gentle line of his clit. He shivered under your touch.

Viktor leaned into you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes, molten gold in the dim light, searched yours with a mixture of trust and vulnerability. He whispered, his voice low, — “You don’t have to rush... do only what you’re comfortable with.”

“Viktor,” — you said softly, cupping his face with both hands. — “This is about both of us. I want to love all of you…, if you’re ready.”

His lips parted slightly, and he nodded, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint, shy smile. — “With you... I am.”

You smooched him, then reached to the bedside drawer, where the two of you had stored the strap and some lubricant you’d discussed before. Viktor had been nervous at first, self-conscious about being exposed in this way. But he trusted you, and the way he watched you now, steady and focused, made your heart swell.

You reached out to brush your fingers against his cheek, your touch light as a feather. — “Let me help,” — you whispered.

He nodded again, his breath hitching slightly as you moved with careful intention. Your fingers tremble slightly as you moisturize both parts of the strap.

You helped him fit the toy into place, its inner part blending with ease inside his cunt, as Viktor muffed his moans with his bare hands. The outer part was secured by the straps around his hips. Once everything was adjusted, he leaned against the pillows, gaze locked on yours, filled with a mix of anticipation and affection.

“How does it feel?” —you asked softly, your hand resting on his thigh, offering him a moment to acclimate.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a faint, nervous smile. — “Strange,” —he admitted, his accent thickened by his nerves.— “But... good. It feels good.”

You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and deliberate, as if to remind him that you were here with him, every step of the way. His hands slid to your waist as you kissed, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. The warmth of his skin beneath your palms, was a contrast to the cold and moist piece on his strap.

Viktor’s hands guided your movements, lifting you slightly so he could position himself. You both paused for a moment, your foreheads touching as you breathed in unison.

As you lowered yourself onto him, the sensation was slow and deliberate, each movement measured, as if you were discovering a new language together. Viktor’s breath hitched sharply, his hands steadying you as you adjusted to the new sensation. His golden eyes flicked to yours, searching for any sign of discomfort, but all he found was the same love and desire reflected back at him.

“It’s cold, but… It feels good” — you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you began to move, finding a rhythm together.

Viktor’s response was a quiet moan, his hands guiding your hips as you moved. As the inner part moved inside his cunt in synchrony to the outer part inside yours.

“You’re beautiful,” —he murmured, his voice trembling as his lips found your collarbone, pressing kisses to your skin. — “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You cupped his face, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to meet your gaze. —“You deserve everything, Viktor,” you said firmly, voice full of conviction. —“And I love you.”

“I love you too” — He replied with no hesitation, as you continued to ride on his lap, driving you both to madness, to ecstasy, to your limits. — “Darling…”

You stopped riding his lap, your body trembled, craving more, so much more. You looked up at Viktor, your eyes searching his, silently asking for what you both needed.

“Lay back,” — Viktor murmured against your lips, his voice low and breathy, yet laced with determination.

You nodded, allowing him to guide you with a careful but steady touch. Viktor shifted, gently easing you into the bed while he followed, his weight pressing down against you just enough to be grounding but never overwhelming. His hand trailed down your side, fingers brushing over the curve of your waist as he adjusted himself between your thighs.

“Is this okay?” — he asked, his gaze searching yours even as his hand came to rest on your thigh.

“Perfect,” — you whispered, threading your fingers into his hair, pulling him down for another kiss.

He adjusted his hips slightly, the toy now perfectly positioned as he guided himself into you once more. The new angle made you gasp softly, the sensation intense yet intoxicating. Viktor’s head dipped to your neck, his lips brushing along your skin as he began to move.

Viktor’s hands found yours, his fingers interlocking with yours as he pressed them against the bed. — “Tell me how you feel,”— he murmured against your neck.

“Like I never want this to end,” —you replied, breathless as you tilted your head to give him better access.

He groaned softly at your words, his lips trailing down to your collarbone, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. As he moved, the pace quickened slightly, his confidence growing with every sound you made. The room was filled with the quiet symphony of your moans, your shared breaths, soft gasps, and the gentle creak of the bed beneath you.

You arched your back, your body pressing against his as the tension between you built higher and higher. Viktor released one of your hands, sliding his palm down to rest on your thigh, lifting your leg slightly to deepen the angle. The shift sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you cried out.

The sound seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more deliberate, each thrust drawing you closer to the edge. His lips found yours again, his kiss hungry and consuming. “Vik, I love you, I love you so much,” —you breathed, your words mingling with his senseless whispers as the tension finally snapped, sending you both tumbling over the edge together.

Viktor’s movements slowed as he rode out the waves of your release, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. When he finally stilled, he stayed there, body pressing into yours.

After a moment, he shifted, removing himself from your insides as he rolled onto his side and pulled you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hand stroking your back gently as the two of you caught your breath.

“You’re remarkable,” — Viktor murmured, his lips caressing your temple. —“You make me feel... like I can be myself, completely.”

You looked up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. — “That’s all I ever want, for you to feel safe…”

He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his chin atop your head. As the quiet of the room enveloped you both. Wrapped in Viktor’s embrace, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment, knowing that this moment, like the love you shared, was truly one of a kind.

After a few beats of comfortable silence, Viktor's fingers, playful as ever, gently caressing against your side. You flinched at the sudden sensation, giggling as you squirmed. —“Viktor, stop!” — you laughed, but his fingers only found a new, ticklish spot along your ribs.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” — he said, voice dripping with mischief. —“Did I tickle you?” — His grin widened as he gently pinned your arms, his lips stroking over your cheek as he peppered tiny kisses along your skin, causing your laughter to bubble up uncontrollably.

Between gasps for breath, you managed to wiggle free and lock your arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss that was as soft and teasing as the moment itself.

Finally, after a breathless pause, you smiled and pulled back slightly, your eyes sparkling with affection. —“Can we get coffee now?” — you asked, your voice light and sweet.

“Anything you want,” — Viktor agreed, his voice low and affectionate, as he took a nibble of your ear.

— Thank you for my friends R&S for helping me out with this one —— The Hexstrap is real —

[olderthannetfic]

Knitting question!

Intellectually I know failure is fine. I'm a beginner! I'm learning! Mistakes are part of the process! But I find it really hard not to be demotivated by projects not turning out how I want

I spent all this time and materials on this and it's just kinda shit?

Did you experience that/have any advice?

--

I definitely experienced that when I first tried knitting. I don't remember, but I suspect it's why I drifted away from the craft for nearly two decades.

I have a couple of semi-failures from my current re-entry into knitting. I intend to frog or partially frog them and re-knit, but there are other projects I care more about that are taking priority so far.

Right now, I love watching youtube videos with little tricks to improve one's knitting or deep dives into technical matters. I find information on fiber fascinating. I think that has helped me avoid many of the problems I experienced the first time around. Even if I run into an issue now, I can probably redo the project to make it how I want.

I think the first thing to figure out is how it's kind of shit. Yes, yes, you're a n00b, but there are lots of reasons projects turn out shitty. Some issues require a lot of practice. Many issues require reading a blog post explaining some technical thing and instantly upgrading your knowledge.

--

For example:

When I first got back into knitting, I got some pretty green yarn and made a Medieval-looking hood. I had no clue how alpaca behaved or that it would be waaaay too flowy for the look the pattern was supposed to have. I was also knitting the pattern with the wrong size of yarn, needle, etc. It turned out way too big for me and a formless blob. It was also itchy.

A year or two later, I threw it in the dryer, and now it's an epic rainy day hood. It's mostly not itchy because the felting stuck down all those hairy ends. It has a lot more body now because it's felt instead of flowy hand-knit alpaca. (And, hey, it's even more Medieval since those hoods were often felt but not often knitted as far as I could tell.)

What went wrong here was mostly that I knew fuckall about fiber. I knew I was making it in some randomass size and didn't really care that it was too big, but I didn't know it would slither off of me due to alpaca's drape. I didn't need practice: I needed someone to tell me how alpaca behaves.

--

Example 2:

I knit that Owls sweater and didn't like how it had no shaping... so I winged it. I ended up with really bizarre shaping because 1. I had no idea what I was doing and 2. I didn't close the underarm holes until the very end, so the sweater appeared to fit when I tried it on.

I could open the underarms back up and knit a separate piece for them, but I realized that I dislike the fabric overall. I knit it on a too-big needle (in my opinion). I thought I liked that looseness in my swatch, but I have changed my mind. I was also worried about running out of yarn (since it's a used yarn that I won't find again), but I had tons left over. I also think I want it more cropped. The yarn has a sort of nasty texture but beautiful color, and I knit quite a tight (and thus scratchy) sweater. I don't think I wet blocked it though, so that might fix the texture.

What I should actually do here, assuming I don't just get rid of the thing in favor of better yarn, is frog it and reknit from the top down, reversing the pattern and not having a phase with the underarms open like that. I should also knit it at a tighter gauge but with a little more positive ease, and I should trust that the stretchiness of wool will make it conform to my body just fine without a lot of shaping. Before any of that, I should wet block it and see how the texture changes.

I don't really consider this a permanent failure. I like the Owls themselves. I can easily just knit this again and get a sweater I want to wear... possibly a cardigan, now that I think about it. The yarn is a relatively robust wool that will be fine being frogged and reused, and knitting it gave me more experience with finishing a whole sweater. My various fuckups taught me things about both knitting and my personal taste.

I guess it could be demotivating because it took a while, but on that bigass needle, it really didn't take that long. I would probably always have knit multiple sweaters from this pattern. I see more than one in my future anyway.

Experience was an issue here, but it wasn't experience with the literal act of knitting. My tension was fine. It was more that I fucked around and found out.

--

Example 3:

I made a self-drafted BTS sweater out of another batch of used yarn that I'll never get more of. I love the body. the sleeves are too tight in the upper arm, and my bizarre-ass design for the top of the body means that the sweater wants to be a boat neck but also fit differently in the sleeves and... gaaaaah. The tight sleeves don't feel bad, but what they do do is make the whole sleeve slide down my arm weirdly because of the fit issues around the boat neck.

Part of why the upper arm area is so tight is that I was worried I'd run out of yarn (which I did) and I wanted a balloon sleeve rather than a straight one. The yarn is so stiff that the balloon part is weird, and the two other purple yarns I added for the lower sleeve look weird. I should have reversed their order because one matches too well, and now it just looks like I ran out and had to add a last inch in a random other yarn. I have most of those two skeins left hanging around and a sweater that fits strangely.

Also... it needs hand washing but is shaped and sized to be worn against bare skin, so it gets stinky after a few hours of wear because I am a sweaty, sweaty person.

In this case, I wouldn't redo the body: this silk blend will look less nice after frogging, and I already roughed it up a lot knitting the damn thing the first time. I knit it starting at the top, so the weird fit across the shoulders is mostly here to stay.

However, I'm pretty sure the bad fit on the sleeves can be fixed by ripping back and adding a bunch of width up top. I can also start with the flowier other two yarns and maybe have bands of this stiffer one that I used in the body. I suspect the weird body fit is fixable by changing what the sleeves are supposed to be doing.

This is another case of fucking around and finding out, so I'm not too disappointed in it. I did wear it to Yoongi's concert too, and it was gorgeous, if too hot.

I do realize now that I hate boat necks, but I think I can put up with this one if the sleeves aren't constantly sliding out of place.

And if fixing the sleeves doesn't rescue this, I might attempt some surgery one of these days, but that's more of a pain in the ass, so that will definitely have to wait.

--

Now, my guess is that your "kind of shit" is not "I freehanded a sweater two seconds after getting back into knitting because I'm a crazy person, and I messed up the shaping".

The more common problems are things like:

Not realizing that you should block or not blocking aggressively enough, so your stitches look way more uneven than they need to, the shape is weird compared to the example pics in the pattern, etc.

Using assy bind-offs so the edge looks amateur instead of polished. (You can go back and fix this.)

Failing to swatch, and now you've knit the wrong size.

Picking a fiber that just cannot do what you want it to—usually seen in people trying to avoid wool and not getting that 99.999999% of trendy patterns are written specifically for wool. I have an ancient sweater from college that looks nothing like the example in the book because all I could afford was big box store acrylic. Never again the plastic horror!

Buying patterns from a size 0 lifestyle blogger aspirational knitwear designer with no boobs and a great photographer, then feeling dumpy when trying the thing on under crappy lighting. This one usually requires a little more self confidence and some bust darts.

Making things in plain stockinette in a light color and smooth yarn like cotton that shows EVERY SINGLE TIME your tension wasn't machinelike. This is unfixable. Don't do this.

--

If you're using mohair or alpaca, frogging may be more trouble than it's worth, but you often can reuse the materials. Granted, you've still sunk that time in, but the materials don't always have to be wasted. That might help it feel more like time you spent practicing and less like a complete disaster.

I'm a very product-focused knitter, so I don't really have practice pieces. I'm knitting to have a Thing and I want to wear that Thing, so I get the disappointment if you don't end up wanting to actually use what you've made.

But that also helps me not get totally demotivated. I still want that Thing and now I have a clearer idea how to make it.

So... what are these "kinda shit" projects anyway? What about them do you not like?

[timelessxmemories]

I believe it's a very common thing for writers like me and other artists of any kind to be insecure of their work and for it not to be up to their "standards". We bleed over it for days and days and it never looks or sounds as great as we'd like it to be. I believe the problem we have as a whole, is that we raise our standards too high, we compare our work to others without realizing that just because our own work doesn't look as "great" as others, doesn't mean others don't see our work and think the same thing. It's a never-ending cycle that I believe we need to break. It's harmful, it causes envy, jealousy, negativity, and other kinds of things that effect our mental health negatively.

I understand from a writers perspective that this cycle is hard to break, we can keep trying and it'll feel like we're getting nowhere, we constantly feel like we need validation from others around us when we don't even realize that no matter how "bad" we think our pieces look or sound, they won't get any better without continuing and improving ourselves.

For some this may not be an issue, but for those that do have this issue, remember, one day you'll get to the point where you'll feel proud and accomplished of your work, you'll find that making mistakes is the only way to improve. Validation from others is an important part of the mind, but self validation is even more important.

[gameyface46]

Who am I if not the most lonesome man in the world?

I like to talk about what went into making a piece, so here goes I guess.

I had posted a WIP a while ago with the start of the story, but I’ll repeat it anyway. One day I was waiting at a bus stop in a heavy downpour with no umbrella. I was soaked beyond belief. But it sparked an idea within me. What if I drew Magolor wet from the rain taking shelter under a bus shelter? I thought it was a good idea, but I honestly don’t know. I think if I was a better artist, this would’ve been a better piece, but that’s like saying if I was a better cook, this meal wouldn’t be foul.

This took me over a bloody MONTH to finish because things kept looking off, but honestly it’s not… HORRIBLE. You know what they say, don’t let perfect be the enemy of good.

Why did I stop here? Because I promised myself to not have a backlog of projects. One project, maybe two. THAT’S IT. I wanted to move on because honestly this is not the greatest composition. I think there might be too much negative space, or I guess too much to be noticeable, but not enough to be purposeful. I think something else is off, just can’t say what? Values? Composition as a whole? I dunno. I love my little guy tho.

Anyway y’all imma move on to something new. Shoot me ideas if you’d like cause my brain is literally dead rn. Love y’all so much. （╹◡╹）♡

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* POST-SCRIPT!

I thought Taylor’s The Tortured Poets Department was fine. It’s okay, but I’m personally a Lover type guy, so it fell flat for me. Also, 31 songs? That is TOO MANY poems, Taylor. ‘Twas alright. Florida!!!, MBOBHFT, and I Can Do It With A Broken Heart caught me the most, and the single Fortnight, and the title track The Tortured Poets Department are pretty fine, too. Clara Bow was interesting in that it is the first song where she explicitly mentions herself (in lyric, 22 does not count).

[leclercskiesahead]

Excerpts: [First stints] The opening stint saw graining and high degradation for all runners and lap times rose sharply from around Lap 10 onwards. On Lap 14 [Norris] was called to box for new hard tyres. He then emerged behind Ocon – and Ferrari saw a small opportunity to cover him, and so boxed Leclerc the next lap. Unfortunately for Leclerc, it didn’t work out for him and he was undercut by Norris. Leclerc’s complaints on the radio at stopping to emerge behind the McLaren were met with reassurance that the race was most likely a two-stop, and it was the correct point to box. Piastri then covered both one lap later. In [Sainz’s] opening stint, he was too far behind Norris to attempt an undercut and Ferrari were still considering the one-stop possibility. Therefore Sainz pushed to extend as he thought it was too early to stop. Later, he reported that the graining was improving and lap times may recover. This was important information for Ferrari. Sainz was then called to pit before being undercut by Hamilton so the lap time improvement was crucially not seen by the other teams. [Second stints] As graining emerged on the hard tyre for all three leaders, [they had to decide] when to stop for the final set of hards. Piastri was asked if he thought a one-stop might be possible, but said no. [On Lap 32,] Leclerc is given the ‘box to overtake’ call on Norris as Ferrari looked to attempt an undercut. But Norris then pitted, prompting Leclerc to stay out. He was then told they will extend the stint to build a tyre delta. In the second stint running in largely free air, Sainz pushed Ferrari discussion on the one-stop strategy possibility. The pit wall and Sainz discussed whether they should cover Hamilton’s second pit stop or remain on the one-stop option – with Sainz favouring the latter after reporting that his tyres were still good. At this point the information is given to Leclerc that Sainz is targeting a one-stop strategy. Leclerc agrees that it is the best opportunity to win and immediately begins work on the tyre saving required to pull it off. [McLaren third stints vs Ferrari staying out] [Having boxed with 15 laps remaining,] Piastri needed to average 1.5 seconds per lap quicker [than his pre-stop pace] to make the pit stop beneficial. His first lap after the pit stop was indeed 1.5 seconds faster than before. However, he had five back-markers to overtake as well as Sainz. The back-markers cost variable amounts of lap time and Sainz then cost Piastri around two seconds of race time – which is crucial when considering Piastri only finished 2.6 seconds behind Leclerc at the flag. So although Leclerc then took the plaudits and the glory on the Monza podium, he couldn’t have pulled off such a famous victory without the help of his Ferrari team mate.

[kifu]

Sappho. I wanted to know if I could under layer shading with markers. That failed. HOWEVER, I took a picture of my greyscale marker drawing before I obliterated every ounce of shading with grotesque color so that I could play with it digitally. I'm ecstatic. She is GORGEOUS.

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

What’s with the trend in comics of Jason going on this long, insightful rant on Bruce’s behaviors and shortcomings only for B to respond like “but murder bad” and that’s considered a valid counter argument?

[shannonsketches]

like why did they change where Vegeta was when Cell announced the cell games in the anime

why did they make this vegeta starting shit with yamcha instead of chillin in the lab with his family? why did they take Bulma out of the lab? Why'd they say she was Out while Dr Brief was repairing 16? Why did they change Bulma working on advanced robotics to running in late with her baby?

it's the same scene except: - Bulma's actively at work being a scientist - Vegeta's not being rude to her (or anyone else!) - Vegeta waits for Trunks instead of leaving the room - Cell interrupted the airwaves, which means Trunks and Vegeta were just hanging out with Bulma and Dr B while they were working

Those are all Great Character Details!! That the anime rails against!!

[bansenshukai]

While perusing the naruto timeline I discovered that the Academy was formed ~30 years after Konoha was founded. The Chunin exams, being a part of the formalized shinobi education system, were formed after the Academy as well.

And at the time of the Academy's Founding, Hiruzen and the rest of his generation (Danzo, Biwako, Koharu, Homura) are approximately age 20~21 . They didn't grow up with the Academy or the Chunin Exams! They became, presumably, fully fledged shinobi, purely through individual mentorship and field experience.

So: no Academy also means no age limit.

This had me start thinking about the kind of childhood Hiruzen led, and what he would have considered normal. People love to criticize his decision to neglect Naruto (and rightfully so), but it's also clear that Hiruzen does regard Naruto with affection. It's entirely possible he saw Naruto's childhood as sheltered compared to what he experienced growing up without the safeguards of a formalized shinobi education.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

every new doctor to their future/past self

[strawberry-pawz]

Hello folks, I have not posted here in 1 quadrillion years, so here is my current blorbo after playing pokemon violet ♡

[aria0fgold]

My headcanons for the named trio in The Cursing of Chateau Castle series:

Josephandre is a big bear. It just fits for him I think! He gets he/him pronouns, and as a way to make him a liiiil more relatable for Mira, he'd have two craft types (Rock type being his main one and paper craft for the other). Battle style wise, I think it fits him to be more of a self-sustaining tank. He buffs defense, heals, and puts up shields. For his weapon, he'd use his fists like Isabeau. He'll be the second fastest in the trio.

Lady Irene-Janine-Kanine looks like an elegant noblewoman on the outside but she has vibes similar to Euphrasie! She gets she/her pronouns. Her craft type is Paper. Battle style wise, she's more on the offensive side, a main dps kind of thing. Most of her skills focus on buffing attack and speed, she'd have an item that helps regen her hp a lil bit and her chosen weapon is an umbrella. The tip is a sharp blade so it's used like a spear that has a hidden sword in its handle. Open it, and it becomes a shield! That'd be one of her skills too, although it's only applicable to her. She's the fastest one of the trio.

Pierre-Jacques-Erneste looks like a nobleman and carries himself as such! He gets he/they pronouns. Their craft type is Scissors. Battle style wise, he's more of a debuffer, skills focusing on weakening the enemies, slowing them down, poisoning them. Their weapon is a sword dagger, though he doesn't seem to be able to handle it well, how clumsy! But he Is a nobleman so it makes sense! Oh but... why doesn't he have a title? They're the slowest one of the trio, how strange, he seemed to be faster than Lady Irene-Janine-Karine that one time though.

[zeb-z]

“Even if it’s not my fault, it’s still my accident, it’s still my mess. It’s still something that - exists, because I do” oh. and he just doesn’t know another way to help, either, because all his life has been screwing up without helpful direction in order to meet impossible standards, and so there is no other way than to bleed himself dry. for the cause, for a friend in need, for anyone he doesn’t know. especially for the problems that he himself creates, because to him his pure existence has always been the problem, because the elders were fucked as hell and traumatized him to no end - so even causing problems is a sin. a single mistake is a sin. it always has been. and it’s rough trying to learn anything other than that mindset - but Jay and Chip won’t let him struggle alone.

and it’s like - that’s what comes with being raised the way he was. punished for imperfection, but there’s no guidebook, no definition of perfect. and so perfect is never good enough anyway. it’s a trap and there is no winning, so there’s nothing else to do but take the blame and bear it, and internalize it. and it makes actual failure and actual mistakes that much more painful. of course responsibility needs to be taken for your actions - but when you’ve been taking responsibility for everything, up to and including the literal fate of the world, all of your life, every outcome is your fault. and guilt only builds, and resentment only festers. of course he hates the elders for how they treated him. of course he hates himself.

he’s grabbing his own destiny and making his own choices - but the thing about making your own choices is that there are so many of them. there’s no destiny to blame anymore. and all you can do is the best you can. and it’s not always going to be good enough. he’s learned plenty about failure, but with Jay and Chip around, maybe he’ll learn about second chances, and self forgiveness. maybe he’ll learn that accidents aren’t always met with extremes. and that he’s not the only one left to deal with a mess if he slips up and breaks something.

[dandyshucks]

also I got rly scared abt this last night or the night before because I suddenly realized sometimes people interpret it this way,,

so i just wanted to say that the reason i dont interact w people very much is NOT bc i think im better than ppl or anything - i am just very genuinely Petrified of messing up in social situations, to the point that I end up isolating and avoiding rather than risk making mistakes ^^;; WHICH ISN'T HEALTHY but . i havent figured out how to work through this yet dhdjdkl

BUT YEAH i just wanted to try to make sure nobody is thinking I'm some hoity-toity goober, I am literally just Extremely Terrified fjdjdkdl