#having an art block so i can't get myself to write anything but it's moments like these that make my fingers practically ITCH to create

[natasha-in-space]

You ever read a fic that's so good, you just have to lay there and stare at the ceiling in complete silence for like 15 minutes or so while your brain is basically vibrating with hundreds of thoughts? Yeah, that's one of the best feelings in the world, holy molly

[joshym]

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.  

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness. 

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive. 

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client. 

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work. 

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs. 

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless. 

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice. 

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands. 

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work. 

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being. 

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once. 

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura. 

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now. 

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight. 

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk. 

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck. 

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over. 

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric. 

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging. 

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going. 

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door. 

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago. 

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.” 

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently. 

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.” 

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath. 

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head. 

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette. 

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light. 

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body. 

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade. 

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet. 

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence. 

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips. 

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body. 

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression. 

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you. 

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck. 

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice. 

“It’s…incredible, Jake.” 

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body. 

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them. 

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp. 

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands. 

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity. 

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth. 

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you. 

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions. 

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being. 

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.  

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him. 

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock. 

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.” 

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him. 

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you. 

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.  

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure. 

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.” 

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release. 

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax. 

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested. 

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs. 

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with. 

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth. 

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek. 

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand. 

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch. 

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.” 

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.” 

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

[tavina-writes]

i want to share salt. have you ever had a ship that annoyed you so much it starts poisoning other ships you could have potentially liked? because this is me with xiyao vs nielan. like, xiyaos are so fucking loud and proud of the fact that he sides with jgy over everybody else multiple times in ways that turn out to be incredibly hurtful. so it gets to the point i can't even enjoy cute teenage nielan art knowing xichen is going to so catastrophically fuck this up by repeatedly writing off mingjue as just imagining things and lying to him and leveraging their relationship for someone else's benefit and handing his killer the method to kill him and that people are *gleeful* about all that.

Hi Nonny!

First off, I want to offer you a hug, because this sort of feeling about fandom is never a fun thing to experience, and since you recognize that this is a salty ask, you might want nothing more than a "hey I see this and I get it in some part!"

But if you're thinking about how you might improve this situation and like, enjoy interacting with 3zun fandom again/mdzs fandom in general, I have a few ideas:

block everyone whose takes are pissing you off. There needs to be no bigger reason than "You know what, your takes are ruining this fandom experience for me" or "making me slightly more irritated than I would've been." There's no shame or like, anything wrong with this. Ultimately, we all live in this mosh pit of stuff together, and I might think everyone has a right to whatever kind of take they want, but I don't have to martyr myself on the cross of "hearing all sides" or whatever, and neither do you Nonny.

Recognizing which things are fanon and which are canon. This might help, but like, LXC doesn't, canonically, keep picking JGY at every turn. He is a flawed character with his own problems (as are they all in MDZS lol) but this is...not really what's happening? People can say what they want in their meta and their headcanons and interpretation of canon, but that doesn't make it...true.

this goes with 1 and 2 but also: if a fandom or a ship or a trope or something no longer brings you joy Nonny, there's always the opportunity to pack it up and leave it behind, either permanently or for a time. There's nothing wrong with not being "on" about a ship or fandom or recognizing that it was once something you really liked but not something you enjoy right at this very moment.

All that said, I'm personally of the opinion that there's a very loud and vocal part of the xiyao fandom (who exist on my blocklist by now) who've made me lose interest in the ship altogether, because the parts of the ship that I find most interesting -- the deceit, the almost gothic horror vibes, the slowly rotting center of their relationship when it didn't begin that way -- is obviously not what most (or what seems like most) people who ship it are looking for. And overall, I'm sure that it's no loss to not have me there, and that I (a NieYao girlie at heart) would not be welcome in that sandbox, so like, Nonny, I do get you and your frustrations. Ultimately I guess sometimes it's just easier to recognize that not all fandom spaces are welcoming and to find places that serve you better.

[meggahamicide]

How do yall make great art? Also, how do you get out of art and writers block?

I have been trapped in art and writers block for like- a few weeks.

First of all, thank you for liking my art and thank you for the support! It genuinely means so much to me!

As for how I make art? Just a lot of practice and patience, if I'm being honest. I've been drawing since I was a kid and never really stopped, so that helped me cultivate my skills to where they are now.

But for the next question, I'd like to preface it by saying writer's/art block is different for every person, so what works for me might not work for you. Normally, my writer's/art block stems from me being a perfectionist. If something's not going right, I tend to let that build in my head until everything I create doesn't reach the standard that I hold myself to, which is more often than not way too high. Which can lead to burnout.

Acknowledging the problem is my first step. Ultimately, for me, if the creativity isn't happening or I'm stressing myself out trying to draw or write when nothing's working right, I'm just going around in circles and that's not helping anyone. So to work to fix it, I have to take a step back. Anything that I've built up in my head, pieces that I want to perfect or stories that have a set goal in mind, are sent to the backburner for the moment.

I always try to take at least a day when I've reached the point where I can't create anymore. Sometimes, that works, sometimes it doesn't, but if it doesn't, my next step is to focus on creating works purely for me. My thoughts when I do these works aren't to think of the end and what will come of finishing the pieces, but instead on just creating for the sake of creating. This is when I do little doodles in a sketchbook or study a screenshot from a show and I focus entirely on not being perfect. I try to never go into these drawings with the intention of finishing and/or posting them, because that's putting expectation on a drawing that is meant to be relaxing.

The best thing I can do for myself when I'm hit with art block is to take away all outside influences and relax. Creativity is not something that can be forced, at least not for me, so I use these art block pieces to let loose where I usually hold myself to a rigid structure. And i go into each of them figuring that they are never going to see the light of day, so there's no reason to be ashamed by how they turn out.

In the off chance that nothing is working, sometimes I just stop creating for a while. It's maybe not the best course of action, but it gives me a fresh mind when I return to drawing/writing.

[musashi]

As a creative, how do you keep going? I see you making fanfics, videos, art, gifs, sitting down and learning something new just because you wanted to. I've always had such a hard time turning ideas into actual finished pieces. At first i thought it was fear of failing but I've been tackling that for years but the progress I've made its still not enough. I've tried doing it "just for fun", for personal growth, for money, as part of a community. Hell, I've tried out of spite. Please, how do keep creating?

that's a tough one because it really is about getting to the bottom of what is stopping you, and it sounds like you've done a lot of work on that with little results. thats gotta be frustrating!

i can tell you that for me, i feel fully fucking crazy when i do not create. this is not as much the case anymore, but when i was younger i felt like the ideas were trapped inside me and that holding them in was literally making me sick. i created because i had to or i felt physically bad.

i had a huge sprawling story in my head for YEARS tho and i had to get it out. and i wasn't. and back when i wasn't it was because i was depressed. depression for me feels like a lazy sunday that never ends, like i can't do anything, like i am locked in my own body and the only thing i have the energy to do is scroll social media for short-term dopamine.

but when i eventually decided ok, this is it, time to tell my story, what fixed me was seeing it like a job instead of a passion. for YEARS i had been fed this lie about "inspiration" and "motivation" and "writer's block" and now i am fully 100% of the belief that all of those concepts are bullshit lmao. i straightup do not believe in them any longer. i believe they are shields that creatives hide behind to absolve themselves of the guilt and frustration they feel when they are not creating.

in the end for me it just came down to this: once a week, it was time to write. no ifs ands or buts about it. at a set hour, on a set day, i would write for a set amount of time. and i could either make fucking hemingway or the worst collection of sentences known to man, but i HAD to write. i was not allowed to talk myself out of it. so that is what i did.

now, years later, looking back on all of my work--i could not tell you what i wrote when i felt "inspired" and what i wrote when i didn't. it all just looks the same to me, and most of it is pretty damn good.

i no longer write once a week. i write every day now. set times. set moments. sometimes alone. sometimes with friends. but every day, when it is time to write, no matter how i am feeling, i write.

currently i am also trying to get medicated for my ADHD so that focus doesn't feel so much like pulling teeth! that is also something i am excited to pursue more and see if it helps. but tl;dr my process is brute force and a schedule.

here is a little more i have said on the subject. i am sorry if it's not helpful, but maybe you will find something in my story that lines up with your own.

[goodluckclove]

I have spent some time now trying to formulate a question but every time i arrive back at there's probably no answer. OH. So. (Please ignore if you do not want to answer or can't or whatever. I'm thinking instead of sleeping and that tends to lead to strange thoughts.)

Where does creativity come from? Like, how do people get that spark that turns into an idea an universe. How do they step outside what they have experienced (tropes, stories), and... create something of their own.

I don't know. The answer is probably somewhere between "it just comes" and "they listen and notice it" (as in they are not in something resembling chronic creative burnout).

Writing looks fun. Creating stories. Having a world take shape in your imagination. I enjoy getting glimpses into that process and seeing the end products. (I would love to try it myself but it's one of those "so far away i have zero idea where to start" things. Where on the other hand rants, thoughts, concepts *prompted* by anything and routed in something already existing seem to come freely and turn into whole essays (sometimes at least). Oh well.)

I really don't know. Please ignore if this is weird. I should maybe have some water.

Take care if where you are it's also way too hot. Have water or rest or whatever might be good in that moment, if you want. I hope your day goes as well as can be, with nice moments and strength for the hard ones. (How do people end asks i am not good at people today.)

Hi! You sent this to me a while ago and I hadn't answered it, but I've been thinking about it a lot. I think I'm finally settled enough to answer it.

I think every human being - at least every that I've come across - possesses innate creativity and the ability to make art. I never believed in the concept of god-given "talent" and actually find the concept deeply patronizing as, in my mind, it implies no real effort. Which is bullshit. I will call an artist capable, honest, skilled, passionate - I will never call them talented.

Children are creative in their natural state and in their own way. What happens is an exposure to poison over the years. Your favorite books and movies aren't good for the reasons you like them, or if they are it doesn't matter because they're not real art. People project what they think art is onto you and negate any opportunity for you to grow and form your own sense of intuition.

Or you're never given a chance to really explore art at all. No one makes an effort to show you books you can relate to, so you decide you don't like reading. You think the stuff at art museums is just stuffy Old Dead Guy paintings, and since no one suggests you explore otherwise you never explore painting or sculpting as something accessible to you. It's an unbelievable tragedy to me and I cringe inwardly every time someone tells me they just aren't creative.

There are no uncreative people. There are no boring people. There are only people who were lied to and demeaned until they felt the only real option was to deny themselves the language of communicating through art and storytelling. And that's fucking horrible.

So how can you move past that? I talk to a lot of "aspiring writers" (another term I despise), who tell me blocks in their creative process that keep them from doing the work they want to do. Oftentimes I just respond by asking who told you that? Was it a teacher who was unable to finish their novel because of some poison they consumed? A parent who only sees you through the lens of a career they've decided you're meant to pursue to have value in the world? Perhaps a stranger on the Internet who realized that you can gain a facade of illusory "respect" by making individual taste and limited artistic scope as an overall rule of thumb everyone else has to follow?

Once you find the root of what makes you feel fundamentally severed from creativity, you can start to undo the hold it has over you. You might have to start further back than what feels good for the ego. If you struggle to write a long-term project, maybe you just need to write something. Anything. Just play with fragments and develop a foundation of actually confirming you're able to take up space. Because you are and you absolutely should.

Big ramble but this is a really important topic to me. Don't know where to start? There are really no wrong movies! People watch and wonder what their lives are like! Explore a single plot point of character without worrying about an overarching narrative! As discouraging as it can feel to struggle in a way so many other people seem perfectly well-versed in, it is never too late to develop creativity in your life!

[otakween]

Digimon World 4 - Final Thoughts

Whelp, that was...something. This game is objectively bad, but I still had a good, brain rotting time. It falls into the "game to zone out on the couch to" category. The lack of much story, characters or dialogue means I got in some quality podcast/music time as well. It's pretty similar to Digimon World 2 in its crappiness, but I found DW4's gameplay more satisfying. I think DW2 has the more appealing art style though, so they even out to the same rank basically. Full thoughts below!

Notes:

So this is loosely based on the Digimon X-Evolution CG film I posted about before. I was disappointed to see that the opening credits are just a hodge podge of scenes from said movie. That's pretty boring and lazy if you ask me. I picked Dorumon to control in honor of the film's protag (and since it would be a more novel experience).

I found any weapon aside from the guns to be a colossal pain to use, so I just used guns and guns alone for the entire game lol. At least I was able to get tech points quickly that way!

This game has the most unbalanced difficulty levels ever. It's either stupid hard or stupid easy. Luckily, the stupid easy moments are far more frequent. Every time I fought a boss I braced myself only to just button mash my way to the end in like a few minutes. Most of them were jokes. On the other end of the spectrum, the beginning of the game was weirdly hard because I would get mobbed by enemies and massacred in like two seconds (this is when I realized I should be using the guns lol). It's hard to have much strategy because most battle moves you can do (spin attack, charged attack, block) suck control-wise. My strat for most of the game was either the ole "shoot and run" or just to get up on a high ground where I was invincible. The latter move kinda felt broken and was part of what made the game stupid easy.

Thank God I emulated this game. Although it's mostly easy, there are definitely moments where it's easy to die. Some dungeons will lock you into the tightest corners and then just spawn like a jillion enemies out of nowhere (the Otamamon and Infermon were the WORST). Some of the harder bosses had some pretty cheap moves too. Save states were the VIP, as usual.

The plot of the game is really basic and the writing is just as wonky as DW2. Basically all you need to know is that there's a virus that's bad and you need to get rid of it. It doesn't get any deeper than that and there are no twists or turns. Ophanimon, Seraphimon, and Leomon are the only characters with significant dialogue (none of the bosses talk) and they really don't have anything interesting to say (I did like Ophanimon and Seraphimon's models tho)

The dungeons were definitely better than DW2 in terms of visuals/layout, but the enemies felt super repetitive. You get maybe 3 types of enemies per dungeon and then you just fight those same 3 again and again and again.

The dungeons are unreasonably long slogs with no way to save in the middle of them. I had save states so I was okay, but sometimes a dungeon would take me over two hours?? Like wtf. I know kids have a lot of free time but some of them aren't even allowed to game for 2 hours straight!

Of course, I played this single player. I actually think it'd be really fun as a multiplayer game? Like, that's probably what it was actually built for. There are actually some moments where you can't go to certain parts of dungeons without a buddy :'(

The bosses were mostly big bads from the series/movies which was fun. Made it awkward when I defeated them so easily though lol

All of the walkthroughs for this game suck lol. The one I used for the majority of the game the guy literally kept writing "I don't remember what happens in this dungeon. Just go through it." LOL thanks for nothing, bud. He said "I don't remember" sooo many times it was comical.

I poked around on the internet looking for info for this game and it seems the general consensus in the fandom is that it's pretty abysmal. Still, there are people like me that got enjoyment out of it regardless.

The little noises Dorumon made when attacked were very cute

I never bothered with digivolution. You don't get digivolution until late in the game and if you digivolve it reverts you to levl 1. Nuts to that!

I also didn't bother with any side quests because they sounded extremely not worth it (some of them don't even have a reward?)

I was pretty under-leveled at the end of the game (barely scraping level 30) but I felt like I had infinite healing basically because I had so much MP. That's another aspect of the game that felt broken.

The ending of this game was SO anti-climactic. I defeated the boss, returned to the hub world expecting a cutscene, and then it went straight to credits. No dialogue, no thank you, nothing. I had to go around and talk to people to get some thank yous but they didn't sound that appreciative really lol. Where are my flowers!? 😭 This took me over a month of tedium!

One part of the game that I did find pretty hard was the Storm Train where you have to get to the end of a train track while hitting the right levers while simultaneously fighting of a ton of enemies. If I had to do that without save states, I probably would have given up lol

I never really regret beating a video game, even if it kinda sucked. It's especially nice to check off another game in a series (even though the World series isn't really connected). I give Digimon World 4 a 5 out of 10.

[oonajaeadira]

State of the WIP Address

Okay, y'all, I've been in a really weird place where I've been avoiding...pretty much a lot of stuff. Dunno if I have to talk to my doctor about upping my meds or what, but this is why I actually went on them--my depression manifests not in laziness, but avoiding things I need to do and things I actually WANT to do. Then I don't do them and it all starts building up. And then the to do pile feels insurmountable, like I'll never get to finish all these wonderful things. So I just...freeze up and roll over. Like a fainting goat. You'd think I'd be like "yay! lookit all the things to look forward to! I have years ahead of me full of things I really want to do! I should never be bored again!" But no. Can't do them Right Now? Fainting goat. It's weirdo. We've all got our weirdo and this is mine.

I only mention it here because I do State of the WIP Address to be accountable. Now, the weird thing is, I don't actually expect anyone to read these posts--they're boring and personal and totally for my own motivation. I just know myself and know if I put something out there, I'll feel bad if I don't do it and that should motivate me to actually do it.

But here's the thing....it doesn't work anymore. I'm no longer fulling for my own snake oil. The placebo has run out. If I know it's inconsequential, then my brain tricks me into thinking that I'm accountable to no one. And, in reality, it's true that I'm actually accountable to no one so the trick doesn't work.

Anyway. Welcome to Adira's brain where she finds her own thought patterns a fascinating psychological study and the lab results are inconclusive.

So I'mma try to twist the experiment a bit. Rather than list the things I know I can't get to right this second and feel bad about it, we're gonna let promises go and do it this way. It's not interesting to anyone but me and anyone who nerds out on process. But rather than listing the things I'm not working on, I'll talk about the ones I am, how it's going, what's in my craw about it, and maybe in my ramblings I'll clear the gears to start rolling again.

This isn't interesting to anyone but me unless you really wanna see how seriously I take my fic writing. Cringe if you want. I'm just being honest with myself. My fic isn't high art, but as with anything I create, I can't half-ass it either. It's "be satisfied with it on my terms" or bust.

STATE OF THE WIPS

I have one million projects happening, but these are the pieces I'm actively thinking about and working on at the moment.

SECRET SANTA Where it's at: I'm writing for someone I think is a wonderful person and want to do right by them, so the pressure's on. But at the same time, it's not. Because I know how accepting and lovely the person is and they gave me a lot of prompts and options and like a lot of the things I do and seem to like a lot of the types of things I like to write. I also know that this doesn't have to be over-complicated, that I can write my heart and it will please both of us. While I haven't actually opened up a doc to start, I know that it's the type of thing that if I have a little uninterrupted block of time, I can just sit down and it will flow. I won't say much about it here, but I will say that while it can 100% be read as standalone, it hits on a character/series I'm currently writing and acts as a kind of prequel, a reason for loving the reader as he does. It's something that is kind of missing in the planned series and I think this would be a nice opportunity to explore it before moving forward (and maybe helping propel that series a little) while also touching on one of the characters my giftee likes, a genre they are interested in that I hadn't considered with this character, and it will have a tone I think they'll appreciate. So while it's for them and being written with their likes in mind, I thank them, because it's also a little gift for me and my yearnings. What's stopping me: Time constraints and general anxiety.

TROPE FIC: MODERN DOM!PERO Where it's at: This one got a little sloppy and I'm working on it. I've been following @max--phillips' entries about what defines certain types of kinks and while my thoughts on dom!Pero started as true dom, they swung wrong when I started working on this, and now I'm just thinking myself back to the definition of dominant. And while I may still be missing the mark, it's helping me to think more about how I want to explore and frame this dynamic. It's also giving me a little trouble in that it's not coming out chronologically which causes me to waste time jumping around and retrofitting things. What's stopping me: I put this one on hold to start prioritizing the Secret Santa piece.

TROPE FIC: SEX POLLEN!OBERYN Where it's at: This piece is flowing chronologically. It's going to be longer than I anticipated and the first draft is about 1/3 done. I already know that after the first draft I'll have to do some shaping and I think maybe I got overwhelmed with the task I set for myself and that triggered my avoidance. I know where it's going, I'm excited for it, it will flow easily if I let it, I just have to do it! What's stopping me: I put this one on hold because I got distracted by tasty Pero thoughts. I blame @perotovar for the thots, but not the stopping. That's all on me.

TROPE FIC: ALPHA!JAVI Where it's at: I'm about 1/2 done with the first draft. Again, this one will be longer (and also more angsty) than I anticipated. I love love love where it's going though and reader and Javi's history is beautiful and sad and complex; I really love that half. I'm just now switching into the modern day section of it and have to make a few decisions about how I actually want it to go. My mind is over-complicating the story and I'm trying to wrestle it down a softer path. What's stopping me: I got distracted by the Oberyn story which is why this one's on hold and now this is all Inceptioning on itself.

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. Where it's at: The asks are all sorted, there are only a few more sessions left before chapter 4. I just have to write it. What's stopping me: Here's the thing about PATS. If I was out for notes, I'd be pounding on this series, because it's my most popular one. But... really, I'm just here to dream up stories I like to tell. I put PATS down not consciously and not because I don't love him, but I got excited by other ideas. I want to finish it because I don't like having a bunch of unfinished projects lying around, but I also don't want that to be my #1 motivator for writing him. I want to enjoy it. I did enjoy putting the latest installment out, but I also don't feel like I'm letting anyone down if I don't hurry it, just because engagement is low. Again, I'm not here for the notes, I truly love the connection and the squeeing and sharing a yearn. We're all so busy now that it's tough to get to everything and the mutual timing is a bit off. That's okay. It's planned out, it'll get done, I just have to do it when I'm feeling it.

LEAVE OFF YOUR WANDERING: WINTER Where it's at: Finished plan. Yet to begin writing. What's stopping me: I was wrestling with this one for a bit because I had two directions it could go--soft and fluffy without much meat, or weaving all the details together and serving a story that gets rather dark, a little sad, and serves as a fix it. On one hand, I felt like I would be betraying readers by not keeping the euphoric escape. But I would also feel like I built this whole backstory that needed to manifest itself in a test for Joel and Meadowlark, as well as the fact that--other than backstories--there hasn't been any canon hardship or violence displayed. It's like I'm missing a huge chunk of who Joel and Meadowlark are. In the end, that's where the story wants to go, so I'm going there. And I have to not think about what anyone else wants, just me. Not just for selfish reasons, but I know that's when I do my best. It doesn't mean there won't still be fluff and a happy ending. It just means I have to write darkness and perhaps it will serve me better to do it in the season in which it takes place.

[blucifer08]

rambling about my personal life (positive)

I moved in with my boyfriend in December and every single day I am reminded why I am incredibly lucky to have him. He makes every moment of my life better. He is the most patient and kind person on this planet and I consider myself so lucky to get to be his partner.

I've been going through some mental health issus and lots of really bad mood swings, which isn't uncommon for me, but things at work have been ramping my anxiety and when my anxiety gets bad it seems like the rest of my mental health comes falling like a bunch of dominos knocking into each other. And yet his patience is damn near unending.

I couldn't figure out what I wanted to eat the other day, I just laid in bed and cried and clung to him. We were having a 'fend for yourself' kind of dinner night and for some reason I just had a bit of a mental block and couldn't actually get up and prepare the food, everytime I thought about it I just started freaking out. Couldn't figure out what to eat, despite having plenty of food. And so he hugged me and he kissed me and he got up and he made me something to eat and made sure I ate dessert as well

I am not an easy person to handle emotionally. I have meltdowns often, especially because i have sound sensory issues. Sometimes I get stuck in my brain and relive really traumatic memories from my childhood, and I get stuck for hours paralyzed in fear from things from long ago. And no matter what it is, no matter what's bothering me, he responds with the most pure and gentle kindness I've seen from another human being.

I really just hope I can be somewhat like that for him. I want to make his life as good as possible. I love him so much.

I really, genuinely thought myself incapable of this kind of love. We've known each for many years and we played FFXIV together, and it took until last year for me to become okay with the idea of being romantic with him. What a shame, because i love nothing more in this world than loving him and being loved by him.

I've often found myself repulsed by the idea of love, repulsed by being physically close to other people. It's so strange now, to be filled with such an overwhelming love for someone. And I'm beyond happy that it is him with whom I share love. I adore his curly hair, his stupid shit-eating grin when he's said something dumb as fuck, his eyes, his eyelashes, his eyebrows, his jaw, his hands, the way his voice sounds when he's sleepy, the way he needs to watch youtube when he cooks dinner, the way he bags groceries very specificaly and CLEARLY doesn't like the way i do it lol

I love when we're out and about and he knows the moment I'm starting to get overstimulated. He knows me so well. Last week he came to me and said, "Hey, I hope this is okay but I was offered for us to go to [place that is very nice!] but I figured since we were there last week and you're pretty exhausted, you wouldn't wanna go, so i said no." And he was 100 percent absolutely fucking right. "I figured you'd wanna spend the weekend relaxing around the house." DING DING DING! He knows me so well.

It's so beautiful to love someone like this. I've never felt this way about another person.

He is just so, so, so kind. And understanding. He loves Naru and Erasmia and he encourages me to write and draw whatever I'd like to my heart's content, he encourages me to gpose, even though none of that is anything he's ever done or generally has interest in. He loves my art. He loves me for me. He loves my flaws. He loves me for my flaws, not in spite of them.

He loves me, even when I'm suffering from sensory issues and just curled into a ball covering my face and wishing all sound and light would disappear. He loves me when I'm sobbing and can't tell why. He loves me when I've sunken into old memories and can't find my way out. He loves me when I'm paralyzed in anxiety over something that I should be able to do easily.

I have no clue what it is I did to deserve this man's love but I thank my lucky stars I have him every day when I wake up and see him beside me

[t1meslayer]

Busy with important family events over the next couple of days, and so I thought it would be good to get a day-and-date release for this Debrief on the latest entry in my Sapphic Valley series, "How You Get The Girl." Be sure to read the story before jumping in!

Did you do it? Did you read the story?

Alright, I'm trusting you. Go ahead and hit that 'Keep Reading' button you scamp.

It only seems appropriate to start this Debrief off by addressing the elephant in the room. I haven't posted anything in over a month, and "By Moonlight" came about a month after its predecessor, the conclusion to "Stone-Cold Lovers."

Work, naturally, has been a major factor.

You can see me talk about that almost two weeks ago in this Tumblr post I made about writing in a coffee shop, which came weeks after I actually started writing during a trip to a friend's house.

===

Side note:

Just wanted to take a moment and acknowledge my beautiful Haley and Emily keychains. My friend who's responsible for the affairs of one ghostly farmer named Jizzabelle (Gisabelle to the laymen) got them for me! Only appropriate after I commissioned some art of her and Abigail.

Emily was my first Stardew wife, and Haley currently holds the biggest place in my heart. They make a lovely duo!

And I'll avoid any sister-wife jokes

===

While I've had some other projects like Zine writing to take care of, work and life can't explain the full absence.

The best way I can think to explain things is that:

I had the general writer's block, and

Despite the best intentions and advice of my irl friends and online pals like @alchemicallymoon and @duelbraids, I couldn't force myself to "break" that block by just... Writing something else.

This is entirely the result of my own psychosis. I have a tendency to carefully plot things out and impose a timetable that really doesn't need to exist. When I feel the cause is righteous enough, it's hard to get around that. In this case, I knew I needed to get my poll-winning idea out after dawdling for holidays like Valentine's Day, and then I knew I only wanted to post one more story before jumping on a very special event for my upcoming 30th AO3 post.

Thus, here we are: arbitrarily forcing myself into a spiral of writer's block misery because of a silly promise on Tumblr and my own sense of ordered chaos.

At the very least, this meant it's coming out not long after my AO3 pal InsertACatchyPennameHere also emerged from the woodwork to tell me they're working on something INSPIRED by my four-person friend group farm adaptations.

Much love to them, wherever they may be.

I'll probably start writing more eclectically now that my shoulders are unweighed, but don't expect my next publication to hit until I'm finished working on teasing the big event. All you Pokemon fans better get hype!

And oh how sweet this publication feels. Between my great set of recent ceramics, the figure drawing class I've been attending, and creative writing, I've felt more fulfilled than ever.

You're here to talk about Stardew, though. So let us talk.

This idea began less with any one event as it did a desire to advance the Alexis/Haley relationship, and Haley's characterization in particular. It was always going to end with watercolor painting reference, but 2 Willow Lane was what I really wanted to dig into.

As I see it, a lot of what keeps people invested in Stardew when its comfy vibes becoming routine is the air of mystery in Eric Barone's worldbuilding. Haley and Emily's parents being some world-traveling duo who left their home in the siblings' care for who knows how long (and who knows how many times over their lifetime) really piqued my interest. So much so that the new writing challenge I set for myself in "How You Get The Girl" was crafting a particularly long set of descriptions that emphasize how overwhelming the parents' influence feels — without creating an impenetrable wall of text.

Hopefully I succeeded in that. Let me know!

I tried to include some vaguely real world-adjacent references into that description of the house, as happens with the magical-realism world of Stardew Valley. For example:

The computer sitting next to their bonsai tree is an iMac G3, the kind of old 'futuristic' tech that my dad loves!

A Speedwell refrigerator is based on even more vintage tech, the Mayflower fridge, but named after a different ship ridden by Pilgrims coming to America.

That city that the family visited in an old photograph with a "monument of arching, interlocking steel" is, of course, Paris — with the statue bookends referencing any number of statues in the Louvre.

Haley's FAD magazine could be referencing any number of publications, but Vogue is probably the closest analogue to what I imagine her reading.

Furthermore, I took some notes on describing the home's layout off of my sister's apartment building, and I asked my bestie @trybard for input on what kind of hanging plant should be used in the transitional hallway. Hanging pothos, philodendron, and spider plants were the three options provided, and my response was appropriate:

They know so much about plants.

Go bug them about it.

I drew on other friends' knowledge to help decorate the house. Specifically, I asked one of my witchiest friends what kinds of protective wards someone like Emily would leave around doorways and windows. She had... A lot of reference material.

I picked Hazel given it purportedly "protects against evil; encourages abundance and inspiration." I also picked Amethyst as one of Emily's loved gifts, one that purportedly "absorbs negative energy, promotes harmony."

My witchy friend is the same one who provided the TikTok that I referenced in my advertisement post:

Perhaps the most important thing about 2 Willow Lane was the recurring motif of Barbie's Dream House.

As a surface-level reference, I think the groundwork is clear. Blondie's love of fashion and general queen bee demeanor fits comparisons to Barbie well, and she lives in a big ol' house full of stuff. We all saw Greta Gerwig's Barbie movie last year. It's still in the cultural zeitgeist.

I'm hip with the kids.

Yet, early on I also tried to make it clear that if this is a "dream" house, it's neither Haley's nor Emily's dream. Haley is a Barbie in that stereotypical sense, but also there's much to be mined from the analogy of a sort of powerless doll in an immutable house, constrained by social obligation to her family rather than literal plastic and stickers.

The cold open of Jodi and Sam was meant to stand alone, but in execution I also think drawing Kent's absence into the conversation makes for a more thematically rich comparison to these sisters who appear to have themselves more put together.

My beta reader said this wound up being one of my stronger stories because of how all of that intertwined, which I appreciated given how down on myself I was following the whole writer's block thing.

But also.

Also.

Alexis gets to be horny. She's hitting on lonely MILFs and watching girls shake their asses to the tune of bad reality TV.

We love a buff dommy mommy farm girl in this house.

Haley is probably horny too, she just doesn't realize it yet. For now I think it's fun enough to play into her being coy about building excuses for Alexis to come over, and then getting incensed when Emily barges in on their private time meant to learn more about this farm girl she just can't get out of her head.

===

Fun fact:

Every story in this series is named after a Taylor Swift song, but I know next-to nothing about her discography. All of them are suggestions by my friend whose house I was at when starting this story — the same one who controls Gardenia on the farm.

While I went with "How You Get The Girl," her alternative suggestion was "The Man."

===

All that w|w talk aside, I also want to give Sam the loveable idiot a shoutout. Had to do a fair bit of research into how skateboards are constructed for his failed ollie, and I slipped in a reference to shitty old technology that's exclusively for my beta reader to enjoy.

I also tried doing some agricultural research to figure out how the folks at Kevin Farm could have grown cucumbers so there'd be a jar of legitimate pickles... But that was getting too in the weeds.

Insert laugh track here

Decided to just go with pickled artichoke hearts to save everyone a lot of trouble.

And where does "Kevin Farm" come from, you may be asking yourself. Or the fabulous "Kevin's Special" with its definitely not innuendo tagline.

That story will have to wait for another day, my friends.

[sureuncertainty]

okay so like how do you set boundaries with an internet friend that you don't wanna be friends with anymore? this is no one here, this is someone i know via instagram and I kinda just realized is actually a dick to me? all the time? and i don't wanna talk to them anymore much less have them edit my book (which they offered to do and I stupidly already said yes)

I don't wanna block them without saying anything, i literally have trauma around being blocked for no reason BUT like is that worse than like? just ghosting them forever? cause that's what I've been kinda doing already

this person CLAIMS to like my book but they've also given me stupid super nit-picky and mean spirited criticisms on it that make no sense that are literally like suspension of disbelief things (also they tried to say that it was "unrealistic" for Cain to not be arrested for tax fraud, which like. buddy you're european and you have no fucking idea what CEO billionaires in the US are fucking capable of getting away with apparently lol)

These criticisms were basically unprompted btw. they were like oh can i make some comments and I said yeah sure thinking it'd be something small and then they proceeded to tell me that my entire story makes no sense and kinda mock it and make fun of it and make me feel dumb

so they made me really insecure about my writing and also literally none of my headmates like them and we get that we can't stop them from reading our book when it's published BUT we just don't want to talk to them about it or have them read it for free

i asked a friend about it and they think they're jealous of me and that's why they say they like my book but are also picking it apart and idk if that's true but I don't think they're like... PURPOSEFULLY being an asshole they just are. i literally dread every message I get from them. OH also they called one of my headmates an ableist slur which like okay fine, it's a common slur that people throw around but it was still hmmmm not great (we are not out as a system on instagram btw)

they send me videos that are completely irrelevant to my interests, they've been BUGGING me about when i'll send them the chapters of silence agenda I told them they could edit (which now will not be happening lol). also our very first conversation was them trying to tell me that studying titanic history doesn't matter WHEN I WAS LITERALLY GRIEVING AFTER THE SUBMERSIBLE DISASTER LAST SUMMER AND VENTING MY FRUSTRATIONS ABOUT IT. and i did snap at them that time and we worked it out and both apologized for making assumptions which was fine but still. like i almost blocked them the moment they sent me that message and now i really really really wish I had bc I feel like i'm in too deep

we also have several mutuals in common and i would worry that if I blocked them on everything, they'd ask one of our common mutuals about it (or a mutual would share my art or something) and they'd realize that I have them blocked, and then i'd have to like. explain myself. and i don't feel comfortable telling those mutuals about it bc i DO NOT want to be that person that's like 'hey jsyk you're following this person who is Problematique' bc i DESPISE when people do that

anyway yeah i just don't know how to handle it and any advice would be appreciated. idk how i've been putting up with this person's bullshit for so long like dear lord i kinda felt like i yanked the wool off my eyes today and realized how fucking awful they are to me

[mcalhenwrites]

I think a lot about the consequences of posting my crochet projects again - WIPs and finished art - and it tightens my throat and my chest. Makes my eyes water. Makes me panic. Makes me feel this surge of anger I cannot figure out where to put. I have made incredible things. I made Tempra, my OC dragon! (Pictured below) And I'm making a gecko to display on the sales tables at vending events with copies of my book!

I'd love to share it all. But then something happens: People love it. They ask for patterns. They cozy up to me and try to get free stuff and abandon me the moment I display anything other than generosity. (If you look back at my crochet/amigurumi tags on this account, you'll find I made a TON of gifts for people.) I'd get commissions too, but people would only buy them when they were $35 for 4 hours of work and $7 materials and included S&H in that price. Sometimes people paid more for dolls. And some friends at the time didn't want to support any of my writing. They kept telling me that crocheting was easy to enjoy, but then they'd subtly drop that my writing wasn't really up to par. Which is bullshit. I think jealousy did play a role in some of that shit, but hello? I also made it very clear that crocheting pained me physically, I was working long hours to make items for anime cons, and I never had time to write. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia eventually, and still, no one cared. Stop writing, keep crocheting, Cal. No one gives a fuck about anything else you do. That's the lesson I learned until I quit crocheting for a couple of years. I stopped sometime in the last half of 2019 iirc, and suddenly I lost over 100 followers - some of them people who claimed to be friends. And a good chunk of people who were still around just stopped talking to me. And I had to block "friends" for things like saying they'd buy something, then guilt tripping me about their finances when I said I can't hold onto these items forever and they either had to buy them or I'd sell them elsewhere. I think it's important to know that I also wrote maybe 5% of my patterns down and memorized the other 5% (which I have forgotten in the past few years). I mostly just winged everything I made unless I made it more than once. I still don't write down most of my patterns. It is time consuming. I don't enjoy doing it. And I don't really want to make things repeatedly so I can sell them. I have OCs (dragon and human alike) that I would love to crochet. I want to make blankets sometimes. (Can't afford the yarn for this very often, but I can't find time to work on my KH stained glass blanket I started like 2+ years ago.) I'm miserable about it. I put a lot of the promise of crochet art behind tiers, and no one is interested in paying for them. I was a wonderful crochet artist until I started asking for money. Until I gave myself the chance to heal. And yes, I was angry and hurt. I think it's fair. I'm hardly the first person who crocheted who had a problem with beggars. And don't blame me that I clung to the prospect of friendship by offering lots of goods. People get mad if you don't "write for yourself" (which I do, or I'd actually have an audience by now or have given up writing at this point), but when you say "crochet for myself" they just LOSE THEIR FUCKING SHIT. And they deny it, but it's true. They want a piece of you. Preferably made with yarn into the shape of something fun. Most people are good, but I think most people are also very greedy. I don't think these people were necessarily bad people - certainly if I'd felt that way, I wouldn't have made them anything - but... it's important to note that sometimes, even the nicest people can be incredibly self-serving at the expense of others. I'm sure even I've been guilty of that.

[charmspoint]

🌿for the writers truth or dare!

Thank you for the ask!

Ask game

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

Cradling your face in my hands

YOUR BODY IS NOT A MACHINE. NEITHER IS YOUR MIND.

Idk about you anon in particular, but I've found that I often have writers blocks the most when I push myself too much. I'm currently in a writing low, which is normal because I'm right off a really really big project and I need to replenish my energy. I also had a really big writing block when I came crashing down from 2021 when I wrote a truly dumb number of fics for me. This one happened because I got caught up in the fandom craze and tried to pump out a lot of high quality fics fast, because that is what fandom demands from writers and artists these days. Fast and quality. This of course wasted a lot of mental and emotional energy which couldn't be compensated by the at the time abysmal comment frequency (Recently I've been getting a lot more comments and I hope everyone else is too. It would feel nice to be out of this dark feedback era).

So to reiterate.

Your body is not a machine.

Think about what is happening around you in life. Are you stressed about school, college, work? Are you having social problems? Are you spending too much time online? Do you feel like you constantly have to be pumping out projects or people will stop paying attention?

From my experience, writing block is very rarely about the inability to write itself. Inability to write is a side effect of something else. A big project, complicated outside factors, external pressure, or just the fact that you got a new game and you are using all your time to play your game and not doing anything else (person who is not obsessed with BG3 atm). Usually when these are dealt with and you renew energy after them, writing will come back on its own.

You need to be kind to yourself.

I find this to be the best advice in many situations.

Pushing yourself to do what you can't do at the moment will only result in further frustration. Yes, it's good to have a writing habit, but I advocate for that to be a low goal one. My goal is 200 words a day. Sometimes I don't manage to do this because life is complicated but 6 days out of 7 I do. This keeps you on track, doesn't let your brain stale, but also isn't just torturing you.

If you are lacking in creativity you need to EXPERIENCE THINGS. Read that book you've been putting off, start a new manga, watch a movie, beyond that, take a daily walk, go to a museum, discuss ideas with your friends. I hate the phrase media consumption but I do like eating imagery and your brain NEEDS to eat. It needs to experience different art forms to be able to produce ideas of its own. Fanfiction is fine too, but unless you know a really amazing writer who brings a lot of new things into their work, I wouldn't recommend it, because in the end fanfiction is just exploration of a familiar thing. Thing you are stuck on. DON'T function only on fanfiction.

Let your material REST. If you are stuck on the fic, shove it in a folder and don't look at it for a week. Try not to think about it too much, do some of the things above and let your work rest. After a week you'll forget the finer details of it and will be able to look at it more objectively, which might help you resolve the thing you were stuck on. Also sometimes when you read your own fic a fresh you get those 'I´m a fucking genius' moments which is always great.

BE KIND TO YOURSELF.

Don't create on anyone's schedule but your own. I know how incredibly hard it is, I've felt it too, with fandom today which is overly picky, overly judgy and not very grateful. With a fandom that seems to more and more treat its creators as content machines instead of people sharing their passion projects. DON'T WRITE FOR THOSE PEOPLE. It's hard but don't write for the comments in your inbox. Don't set a schedule you can't meet. I've been writing a 17 chapter fic for almost 3 years now because I want a weekly release schedule but I don't want a weekly writing schedule. If your fic takes 6 months, a year or 10, let it take that times, don't shove it out before you feel ready.

BE KIND TO YOURSELF!!!!!!!

Realize that sometimes writing just won't go, no matter what you do. Realize that you aren't a failure or a fraud for this, that it means nothing when it comes to your skill and ability, that the greatest writers ever had struggled with the same thing. Some days you don't have time to write, some days you aren't in the mood to even do the bare minimum. These days will exist and be kind to yourself on them. Your writing won't escape anywhere. Come to terms with being human and come back to it tomorrow.

Hope any of that rant helps hzbjhvh!!!

[mayathepsychc]

CHALANT

something I wrote in the weeks leading up to turning twenty-one.

I used to think that other people knew me better than I knew myself — that I was stuck in a perpetual blindspot, blocking my vision from seeing how I was  perceived. I remind myself in these moments of insecurity: I’ve never looked into my own eyes and I’ve never kissed my own lips. I cannot exist beyond myself. I’ll never be able to look at my life from the outside, but that doesn’t stop me from believing that my eyes are an earthy brown, the edge a ring of black that deepens their roots. I’m never gonna be able to kiss my own lips but that won’t stop me from leaning in with passionate intentions and smirks. I can’t love myself in the same way I love others, and I can't imagine how they love me. What I can do is believe my friends when they tell me they love me, and I can love them back. They can tell me what they love about me and while some sentiments always get lost in translation from their tongue to my brain, I know that love is real because I feel it too. 

I may not be able to look into my own eyes but I know that you'll never catch me dead or alive without love in my heart. And while I can’t love myself the way I love others, I love the way I love. I love the love in my life. It’s so abundant, I know I’m deserving of it. 

The art of acting nonchalant has never been something I could master. In fact, I could never lie about my feelings, you can already read them all over my face. I wear my heart on my sleeve, my thoughts in the knit of my brow, my fears in the wrinkles on my forehead, my excitement in the divots in my cheeks and the tremor of my limbs. I find it hard to hide anything at all when feeling my feelings is the only thing I know how to do without hesitance. I’m naturally myself. Despite the world’s best efforts, I’m persistent in my disposition. Besides, why would I want to be anything else when I have so much love at my disposal? 

In two weeks from today I will turn 21 years old. My life feels the closest to real it’s ever felt. Every day that goes by I thank God I was able to live the last day in full. These days, I'm busy singing loudly along to Chappell Roan with my friends and making a concerted effort to be kinder to the past, present and future versions of myself. Maya Jones of the past is a heart attack in a blowout and black hair dye, and I still wake up sometimes and forget I’m no longer her, that I’m not caked in foundation and hiding far more than my freckles from the world. 

When I was 16 I thought a bad hair day, some hate-speech, and a panic attack would be the end of me. I know now it’s gonna take a lot more than some heat damage and some trust fund baby in a Vineyard Vines polo calling me a “fag,” to shut me up. I have far too much to say than to let white people’s manufactured expectations for me affect any of the words that I speak into the world. If I'm not showing up authentically then I haven't shown up at all.

 Being anything but myself isn’t being, it’s lying. I've always been bad at lying, I can’t lie it through my teeth so my falsehoods come out misshapen and ridden with guilt. Besides, at my age, why would I lie when I can love even louder. I’ve been called brave for being so keen on being myself. In all honesty, I’m not brave — I'm stubbornly, candidly and spitefully alive. I’m nobody’s parent or politician, so why would I pander to you? Why would I edit the eloquence in which I speak when my natural cadence is so rhythmic? 

I never could master the art of being nonchalant. At this point, why would I try to? I am chalant and my presence in the world proclaims loudly: feel your feelings, fool!

[the-galactic-catt]

INTRODUCTION POST !!! ☆☆☆

i'm finally making one of these yayy

i don't want it to take too much space, so you'll find the info you need under the cut:

about me

about the blog

tags i use

socials

NOTE: many of these sections will be getting updated, so make sure to re-read them every now and then in case i add any new rules or notes

☆ ABOUT ME

you can call me star

i am 18 (yippee. 🙂🔫)

my preferred pronouns are he/him and she/her, but i'm okay with any

aroace bigender mf who honestly couldn't care less about labels, i just use them for others' sake

ΞΥΠΝΑ ΕΛΛΗΝΑΑΑ 🇬🇷🇬🇷🇬🇷 (/j)

i'm autistic and i may also have ocd, though i am not diagnosed on that so take it with a grain of salt. i also definitely have anxiety (not diagnosed either, but i am 100% certain on this) so if we are mutuals and i don't interact with you much, that's why

i'll soon be studying to become a theatre major, so that's fun

i like to draw and write, and i want to one day publish my own books and comics

i love my ocs a little too much (i am NOT normal about them)

i am in way too many fandoms to count, but the ones i am currently posting about are: στο παρά πέντε, hetalia, sky: children of the light, bungo stray dogs, afk journey, the sonic movies

i consider myself a professional hater, so rant posts are not uncommon from me

cheese is the best food and you can't fight me on this, you WILL lose 🧀🧀🧀

my friends call me rat sometimes. i wonder why

☆ ABOUT THE BLOG

what you'll find here:

cringey art and writing

rants about things that don't really matter

cool awesome-sauce pictures, usually cats

crackships, rarepairs and multishipping nonsense

oc content (if i feel like it)

greekposting

some rules:

don't like, don't interact. if i or my content bothers you, feel free to block me. harassment is NOT tolerated here

please don't use any sexual language when talking to me or reblogging my stuff unless i have already used such language in the context you are replying

do not sexualise my ocs, even if they are adults

if you want to request for something (art, headcanons etc) please be specific on what you want me to share. the more details, the better

☆ TAGS I USE

star's art — my art, including fanart

star's writing — my writing, including exclusive content about it

star answers — all the questions i have answered

galactic migraines — posts about things that make me angry

starry nights — thoughts and ideas i get when i can't sleep

star rambles — stuff that i just happen to fixate on in the moment, sometimes random, sometimes interesting

star won't shut up — just me screaming into the void

galactic collection — things i find cool that i cannot save on my devices so i just keep them organised in a tag

star irl — news and stuff about me

star's babies — art, writing and rambles specifically about my ocs ! anything you ask about them is also included

galactic cats — my fellow comrades (cat pictures)

out of comets — posts without context

☆ SOCIALS:

youtube

archive of our own

bluesky

tiktok

THAT'S ALL FOLKS ! ☆☆☆

[not-poignant]

Pia! I need some advice. There's a writer on ao3 whose fics I really like (well, 'love' would probably be a better word) but I've just found out they are a TERF 😭

I had no idea because they don't post anything personal or political on their main tumblr and they don't write fics that reflect these views but I found their side blog and its full of terf and redfem stuff

Now I'm feeling guilty for enjoying their work and also sad because a part of me just wants to keep reading their works despite this because they really are a good writer and have kept their personal views out of their stories but...... UGGHHHHH TERF 😭😭😭

What should I do? Should I stop reading? Should I block them? Or should I separate the artist from the art and just enjoy the fics?

I am not cis btw so I feel really selfish for just wanting to ignore that stuff and keep reading.

Hi anon,

I'm sorry you've found yourself in this situation. There's no point feeling guilty about something that you could never have possibly known until this moment, though I understand that the guilt still happens, it's not like you can be expected to know this stuff when you're just trying to enjoy fics on the internet, y'know? The main thing is you know now. Guilt is a good feeling for getting us to stop and pay attention, and now you're doing that.

As for what happens next, I can't really answer this for you, but I can talk around a few points which might be worth considering re: continuing to read the fic/s or not.

Separating the 'artist from the art' is almost always hugely misinterpreted, and it often doesn't mean 'pretend the artist doesn't matter so I can keep enjoying their content.' Ultimately you have to decide for yourself what you will or won't accept, and that will be down to your personal ethics or values, and how you express those ethics or values.

If my favourite fanfic author was suddenly revealed to be a TERF (unlikely as they're trans, but y'know, it could happen), I personally couldn't enjoy their writing anymore. I wouldn't be able to escape into their stories or characters, knowing the person who wrote this thing I love doesn't believe in my right to exist as I am, and wants to constantly debate my human rights. I can't suspend my disbelief that much.

But then, on the other hand, I can still watch the films of Harvey Weinstein, a horrible fucking human being and scum on earth, and justify this by knowing that many of the people who made that film are not horrible fucking human beings and he is not the only person to consider. Some people would disagree with my choice. Others will understand.

That's me, but everyone is different on matters like that, and so then it comes down to how you show support. If you continue to read this author but never give them a platform, never like their fic, comment on the chapters, interact with them in any way, rec it to another person (not without 'you should also know they're a rabid transphobe'), be a 'silent consumer' etc. and consider this the way that you demonstrate that you don't support this person's beliefs/views, that's also valid. You still express your values by lending nothing to this person that they can then benefit from. This is how some trans people still consume the works of JKR - making sure she never sees a single cent or benefit under the proud flag of piracy - for example. There are going to be other trans people who disapprove of this, or don't like this, who even make good arguments against it, and tbh, I'm on the fence about it myself, I can just understand why people come to this place with it.

Some of those expressions of our values can be problematic - paying for the work of someone who is transphobic (which you're obviously not doing in the case of fic) directly benefits a transphobe who is publicly transphobic. That's just...straight up harmful. That doesn't really express your values. In fact it may express opposite values. Reccing the fics of this author for example, knowing other trans readers might find the side blog one day and feel deeply wounded and betrayed, expresses opposite values - this would be problematic.

You might be someone who sends them a message anonymously or similar, to let them know that their views are hurtful/hateful and ask how they feel knowing that trans people are reading their stories, and see if they respond to you. Maybe they've never thought about it before. But you don't owe them that kind of labour. You may also want to consider naming/shaming them, to at least do fellow folks in your community the courtesy of avoiding a transphobe. The fact that you've gone out of your way to protect their identity even in this anon, is not something you owe them.

There are going to be different ways you make peace with this situation anon, and don't be surprised if they change over time, depending on how you feel about it. People can only tell you what they would do based on their values, and you must sit down with your own values and decide which actions support your values, and which go against them. We don't all express these things in exactly the same way. As long as you're not expressing harmful or opposite values, you're generally going to be okay, and there is sometimes room in that to still enjoy the fic, if that is something you're able to do.

(Please see the tags since I address this in a bit more detail - although the tl;dr there is - have you considered that instead of continuing to be entertained by the works of a transphobe, maybe if you stopped reading them, you'd find someone you liked just as much, if not more, who will replace them? Sometimes the harm we do is simply in giving our time and energy to someone who wishes we didn't exist, and is actively protesting against our existence - when we could look for others to entertain us who don't expect horrible ethical quandaries from us just to enjoy what they're creating).

(Also, for the record re: other folks reading (I kind of wish I hadn't been forced to respond to this publicly lmao and I'm still in two minds re: whether I'll keep it up), I'm also trans, so I feel like I can talk about the grey area more in this specific issue. I am not advising or advocating for example that white people actively read and engage in the fanfiction of known racists. This is very much - I am talking about this one thing, from a trans person to a trans person, about transphobia in the community and in the works of creators we might enjoy - and I very much want to stay focused on that).