#i really do feel like publishing some text of mine though

[dear---moon]

I write and write and then never publish it. I create what feels just the same as everything before. It is as if I haven't been anything else since 17. I write paragraphs of sentences that read like bad translations, yet I continue, as the art of creation reads like something society needs. That's what I think of art; we all need it, but you're not certified to success. You never are, whether you make art or not. And after contemplating things for a little too long, I get so lost within these thoughts. That's when the frustration hits, as I never feel like accomplishing anything. There's so much love around me, and "I know love is real because I exist and I'm full of it" sounds like I could've made that statement had I only been more talented, yet the loneliness haunts me, and I cannot stress enough how much I wish to lay in the grass again, or just hike for half the day. I've danced in the cold spring rain and I nearly fell asleep in the fields, on hot summer days. I've been through life in so many different ways, and I miss it now that I am older, afraid I'll never get to go back to being this carefree.

[sweetkpopmusings]

long for you (act two) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: i've returned with the second part of "long for you!" this is potentially the longest section, but we'll see :^) also ah! if you'd like to be added to the tag list, please reply to this or send me an ask <3 pics not mine <3

♡ find all parts here ♡

content: fluff, romance, fake dating, angst, a happy ending | wc: 7.7k | warnings: mentions of food/eating, a kiss, some crying | pairing: nonbinary!painter!hyunjin x gn!writer!reader | requests: open

synopsis: y/n is a writer with a long-awaited, well-deserved career opportunity. despite the excitement, there’s one major problem: the publisher expects a modern love story, equally romcom-like and authentic, but y/n lacks the inspiration to write something worth reading. through a chance meeting with mutual friends, y/n and hyunjin bond over upcoming deadlines and creative blocks. before the conversation ends, they discover that the ridiculous plot of fake dating might just work to solve their inspirational dry spell.

act two: the lovers 

“sorry we are starting with something so stereotypical,” hyunjin smiles sheepishly as you both slide into your seats with fresh drinks.

“it’s okay! coffee shop dates are a default for me, if i’m being honest.”

they nod, pleased with your answer, “well then, why don’t you tell me about some of your other defaults?”

“meaning?”

“tell me about the music you listen to on repeat, the shows you watch and rewatch, your favorite color shirt to wear, your go-to story to tell at a party…” hyunjin pauses, pink tinting their ears when realizing he’s starting to ramble, “should i give you more examples?”

you laugh, “no, i think i get the gist of what you’re asking. hmm, let’s see…”

hyunjin waits patiently while you gather your thoughts and find a good place to start. it’s always a bit intimidating when you try to figure out the perfect conversation piece for a date. even if you’ve talked with someone over text beforehand, a lot rides on the first part of yourself that you share, even if it isn’t anything particularly vulnerable. perhaps because you’re a writer, you’re always hyper-aware of impressions, specifically the first ones you leave on and have about others. with hyunjin, your nerves dissipated after you walked through the coffee shop doors and waved to them. this arrangement, fake as it is, lends itself to a real comfort from the very beginning. you are not there to impress hyunjin. you’re there to know him for the sake of knowing him, and he’s there for the sake of knowing you.

hyunjin remains engaged with each anecdote you share, reacting enthusiastically at the exciting bits and showing concern at the right times. they even ask follow-up questions, make silly comments, and write down some new content to check out per your recommendation. by the time your drinks are halfway gone, you realize you’ve been the main one talking.

“so, when do i get to hear about your defaults? it feels as though i’ve been talking your ear off this entire time.”

hyunjin smiles, “i haven’t noticed! it’s really enjoyable listening to you.”

a sweet silence fills the space between you as they smile from across the table. you feel heat rising to your face at the tender attention, but, thankfully, it dissipates when hyunjin starts to speak.

“maybe it’s cliché, but i feel like it’s only natural if i start by talking about painting.”

“yes, please! i’d love to know about how that became your focus in art and life.”

hyunjin grins, a visible spark appearing in their eyes, “contrary to popular belief, painting wasn’t the first artistic medium i tried. i actually thought i’d pursue sculpture. there was something about it being so tactile, you know? like being able to feel the artwork with my bare hands, it was like my body movements were a part of the piece itself. and, being a pretentious college student, i loved leaving my actual fingerprint as my signature on each sculpture.”

hyunjin rolls their eyes, and you laugh, “oh, don’t even get me started on the pretentious stuff i used to do with writing assignments in high school and college.”

“oh, we’ll definitely be coming back to that,” hyunjin teases, “but even with my dramatic flair, sculpting started to…not necessarily bore me, but become…mundane. it was as though i hit a creative wall. none of my sculptures inspired me anymore; nothing seemed to go right. changbin reassured me that it was probably just a slump–we all have them, creative or not, as he said–i just knew that it was deeper than that. i was always searching for something in my work, and it felt like i had lost it in sculpting. then, by a stroke of luck or fate or good ole early adulthood happenstance, i attended a painting class. i don’t even remember why i took that particular class. immediately, though, it was like i was on fire with ideas. i remember my friends having to force me to leave the studio and eat, shower, or exist as a normal human being,” they laugh, slightly embarrassed at their former self’s antics, “eventually i calmed down from that initial creative high, of course. the fulfillment and energy painting gave me lasted. even today, even right now while talking about it, i can feel the urge to sketch out new ideas. so, i guess this is a long-winded way of me saying that, after taking a singular painting class, i fell in love with it, and years later i still haven’t expressed all that i need to through it.”

you nod, gratefully absorbing all of the information hyunjin shared with you. you notice there was an electricity in their voice when he discussed painting, hands gesturing excitedly and precisely when discussing how painting made them feel. regardless of your relationship with the art form, hyunjin’s description of it made you want to give painting a go. if you were honest, something about hyunjin’s words left you craving the feeling of a paintbrush in your hand. their words are like magic, and you wonder if all the great painters before had ever spoken so beautifully about the practice themselves.

“that’s incredible, hyunjin. it’s obvious you’re in the right field.”

he giggles, tucking his hair behind his ear, “i’m glad you think so. i always trust the judgment of a fellow artist.”

you giggle in response to their wink, and continue, “if you’re willing, i’d love to see some of your work. i know i could look it up online, but i figured i’d abstain from an internet investigation before our first fake date.”

hyunjin laughs, “i really appreciate that, y/n. i promise i didn’t read any of your writing before this.”

you feel a wave of relief wash over you, surprised that you were nervous about the prospect of hyunjin reading your work. before you could dwell on that mini revelation, hyunjin speaks again.

“rather than just show you some of my paintings, i think there’s something better we could do.”

their smile is playful, and you can’t deny the butterflies that flutter in your chest when you imagine the possibilities of what could be going on inside hyunjin’s head.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sunlight washes over you, pleasantly warm and gently bright. hyunjin busies themself with the setup of the easels–small ones, so you both could sit comfortably on the picnic blanket he brought–and meticulously arranges the painting supplies. they hum a vaguely familiar melody, and your mind and body relax as you eat fresh fruit and sip homemade lemonade. 

“ah!” hyunjin claps their hands together, “perfect!”

you give him a round of applause, which they respond to with a bow and thank you, thank you.

with two blank canvases in front of you, hyunjin asks, “do you know where you’re going to start?”

“hmmm,” your eyes sweep around the park, observing shadows fluttering in the shape of tree leaves and happy people walking and chatting down the park’s path, “ironically, i’m finding it hard to think of something when this place is so…idyllic.”

hyunjin sighs, more dreamily than in exasperation, “i totally get what you mean. maybe we can find a random prompt online?”

“what, like use a painting prompt generator?”

hyunjin makes a look of disgust, as cute and earnest as a toddler refusing vegetables, “no! i mean look for a list of prompts on tumblr or something and then choose one that sounds viable for us to complete on our date.”

biting your lip to prevent the instinctual smile that would erupt after a beautiful person says something like our date, you reply, “that works for me. why don’t you choose, as you’re the resident artist here?”

hyunjin agrees and gets right to work scouring the internet for the perfect picnic date painting idea. you busy yourself with finding the perfect playlist for your activity, which aids hyunjin in deciding on a prompt.

“how does painting the view from your bedroom window sound?”

“how do you know what the view from my bedroom window is?”

hyunjin’s eyes go wide, and they start shaking their hands frantically, desperate to dispel the thought of knowing anything about your bedroom, so you laugh and speak again before they fall too far down the rabbit hole, “i’m just teasing you, hyunjin! i know you’re not a creep who has previously snuck into my bedroom. that sounds like a perfect idea for our paintings.”

“phew!” hyunjin wipes imaginary sweat from their brow, “i’m glad we’ve cleared that all up. so let’s get started! let me know if you would like any tips along the way. i doubt you’ll need any, but i have made plenty of mistakes while mixing colors and choosing brush sizes to be quite the teacher.”

you both giggle at this admission and soon shout ready, get set, go! as you pick up your brushes. despite the racelike commentary, you both take your time. there is a calmness surrounding you, conversation sparse and ease abundant. much to your surprise, hyunjin asks for your advice a couple of times on their painting choices. you’re honored, which you tell them, and they only give you a look of confusion.

“what’s so strange about me asking for insight? you’re someone with a beautiful mind, and i’d be a fool not to appreciate your proximity.”

“you really know how to butter someone up, don’t you?”

hyunjin shakes his head, “according to changbin, i can only flirt unintentionally. it has to be natural; otherwise, i talk like someone who hasn’t had contact with another human in far too long.”

you laugh, not quite believing him, but you thank them for how they view your creativity. they jump at every opportunity you give them to discuss your painting, each time responding with grace and consideration. while you don’t spend too much of your time talking, you learn that everything hyunjin does with art is full of intention. that, you realize, must be what draws you in so intensely to their words and into the painting they hold before you.

“what do you think?”

hyunjin’s eyes are wide with anticipation as you scan every detail: the blue tint on the walls, the knick-knacks cluttering the desk, the dawn colors in the sky, and the two butterflies, mid-flight, just ahead of the windowsill.

“wow,” you breathe out softly, “it’s beautiful, hyunjin. i feel like i’m at home.”

they beam at your response and say about a thousand thank you’s in the span of about 20 seconds. when you show your painting, hyunjin takes just as much care in viewing yours. his focus is a little intimidating because of the ardor with which they examine your piece, but you trust that they won’t say anything too critical.

“this is stunning, y/n!”

you blush, a little taken aback by the passion, “you think so?”

hyunjin nods vigorously, “absolutely! i love everything about it. the textures, the colors, the items you included…all of it fits together so perfectly. sitting right in front of it makes me feel as though i’m safe from the outside world. it’s…serene.”

your head turns toward your painting, reviewing everything hyunjin mentioned, almost as though you’re looking for evidence of their claims. before your gaze can turn skeptical, hyunjin’s voice breaks your concentration.

“can i have it?”

you whip your head towards them, “huh?”

they gesture to the canvas beside you, “your painting. can i have it? i’d love to hang it above my desk, as an inspiration and a reprieve. i totally understand if you aren’t comfortable with that, or if you want to keep it for yourself, so no pressure! i just…well, honestly, i’d love to look at it and be reminded of today.”

you pretend you don’t notice the pinkness of hyunjin’s ears in hopes that they don’t notice the same flush on your skin, “um, yeah. yes! i’d be more than happy to give this to you.”

they nearly squeal with excitement and beg you to sign it. after your signature is placed in the corner, you hand it over to hyunjin. they stare at it lovingly, holding it with more care than you ever would have. after a little while, they look back up at you.

“why did you choose to paint the sunset at the very end, when there aren’t that many colors left in the sky?”

you can’t say that you thought it through before putting brush to canvas, but you pause before answering. if it’s for hyunjin’s curiosity, you’re more than willing to dig around in your brain for unearthed motivations.

“i think,” you start, not entirely confident but fully honest, “i think that i notice more of the world that’s right outside my room as i’m saying goodbye to the day. it’s like a transition from my public life to my private life, and, even though the night is only beginning, that time of day is when i can safely say ‘see you tomorrow’ to anything that isn’t in my home. that, or i just liked the colors of dusk better.”

you both laugh, and hyunjin sets the painting back on the easel before replying, “whatever the case, i’m honored that you’re letting me into that window of time with you. i’ll cherish this perspective, this moment, forever.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you fidget with your clothes, tugging them to be sure they’re in exactly the right place, as hyunjin knocks on the door. 

they turn to you and smile, “don’t worry, y/n, you look perfect.”

you smile back, now messing with your accessories, “thank you. i guess i feel extra nervous because i’m not used to going to things like this without felix or jisung.”

you feel a little embarrassed to admit that, but hyunjin shows no sign of judgment. instead, they pat you gently on the shoulder. the right amount of comfort.

“i know what you mean. you’ve got me though! let me know at any time if you need an escape. plus, i’m pretty sure felix will be here, so he can run away with you too.”

a giggle escapes your lips as changbin opens the apartment door, loudly greeting you and hyunjin.

“y/n! so glad you could make it!” changbin grins widely, beckoning you and hyunjin into his place.

as soon as you’re inside, changbin wraps his arm around hyunjin’s waist and places a kiss on their cheek. hyunjin laughs and wipes his cheek with the back of their hand, which earns a complaint from changbin.

“i love you, but i don’t want your cooties.”

“since when is it a crime to kiss the homies?”

“oh my god, changbin, you did not just say that,” a voice of disapproval chimes in from the living room.

you turn to the source of the voice and notice someone with long hair–similar to hyunjin’s, just lighter–and sharp features. before you even need to ask, hyunjin whispers jeongin to you. 

“as in…?”

hyunjin nods, “yes, the jeongin who is ruining my life with his exhibition theme.”

jeongin turns his head so you can see him roll his eyes, “for once, our emo boy can’t come up with something heart-wrenching. i’m assuming that’s where you come in?”

he raises an eyebrow to you, more playful than inquisitive, so you nod, “yep! hyunjin’s muse, reporting for duty.”

you hear changbin laughing from the kitchen, and it grows louder as he returns with your drinks, “please, make yourselves at home! minho is almost done with the food, and felix should be here soon, so get comfortable!”

hyunjin guides you to the living room, and you catch a glimpse of minho working hard on the meal you’ll all devour far too quickly. yet another handsome member of the friend group–dizzying to think about how many attractive people are currently surrounding you–he also carries distinct features, particularly a sharp nose, and holds himself with certainty.

somehow reading your mind, hyunjin leans over to you, “don’t be intimidated. we’re obviously the hottest people here.”

you both snicker like schoolchildren, and you feel your shoulders relax bit by bit. felix’s arrival helps, especially since he engulfs you into one of his classic hugs the second he’s within arm’s reach.

“felix! you act like you didn’t just see me yesterday,” you chuckle, not making a move to break the embrace.

“yeah, yeah, i need to make sure your partner here doesn’t forget who comes first!” 

felix sticks his tongue out at hyunjin, causing them to throw their head back in laughter. almost perfectly on cue, minho calls out to confirm that dinner is ready. changbin rushes around to serve everyone’s dishes, only being slightly micromanaged by minho. the conversation continues easily, while you all enjoy the graciously prepared meal. you learn not just about the new people in the room, but more about hyunjin: how they were in university, endless tales of their clumsiness, his affinity for painting flowers and portraits of strangers, as well as his never-ending love and support for those close to him. endeared only scratches the surface of the warm feeling growing inside you as you discover these qualities of hyunjin’s. if you were honest, you never wanted the conversation to go in a different direction. your heart was full learning more about the person at your side, and you were thoroughly entertained by all the faces he made when his friends embarrassed him. perhaps chasing the same warmth, hyunjin steers the conversation toward you.

“it feels a little silly to ask basic questions,” minho smirks, “hyunjin has already told us so much about you.”

felix giggles, “how could they not? y/n is the best.”

you smile at felix and then at hyunjin, who is trying to convince you that minho is exaggerating. 

“i’ll only accept the best for our hyunjin, so let’s see if you really meet those standards, y/n,” changbin jokingly assumes the persona of a hardcore journalist, ready to get to the bottom of the night’s biggest story.

with that, hyunjin’s friends ask you question after question, sometimes starting with hyunjin told us about this, but we’d love to hear more from you in order to make hyunjin squirm in their seat. hyunjin’s adorableness reduces any anxiety or stress you would have normally felt when getting, for lack of a better term, examined by their friends. with him and felix on either side of you, you feel like you are in on the fun, not trapped in the spotlight.

“okay, okay, i think we can give y/n a break from the interview,” hyunjin puts their hands up in your defense.

changbin sighs, leaning back in his seat, “fine, but only because you asked, hyunjinnie.”

you could almost hear a collection of heart emojis coming from changbin’s mouth. it is funny how flirtatious he is with hyunjin, but you couldn’t deny a twinge of jealousy every time he made hyunjin blush. sure, you are fake dating them. but is it so out-of-pocket to feel as though you should be the one making hyunjin giggle, twirl their hair, and kick his feet? you make a mental note to ask felix that very question tomorrow, crossing your fingers that you were just feeling very committed to the bit and nothing else. 

hours pass in the blink of an eye, and you only realize how tired you feel once felix mentions the time. 

jeongin stretches, quickly standing up from the couch, “well, since changbin promised he would do all the dishes, i vote we all leave quickly so as to not hold him back from his chores!”

changbin yells in protest to no avail against jeongin’s mischievous grin. minho mutters something about “the kids” fighting again as he walks back to the kitchen. you hear the sink running and decide to invite minho to any dinner party you throw in the future.

felix checks his pockets to ensure he didn’t leave anything, turning to you before heading to the entryway, “would you like me to accompany you home?”

you shake your head, “no, that’s okay, felix! we live in opposite directions, and i can safely get home by myself. you go and get some rest!”

“who said you’re getting home by yourself?” hyunjin tilts his head.

changbin whoops from the kitchen, causing felix to laugh and hyunjin to quickly clarify, “i mean, who said that your partner wouldn’t make sure that you arrive home in one piece? it’s the chivalrous thing to do.”

“as long as it’s chivalrous and nothing more…” felix makes an i’m watching you gesture towards hyunjin.

you roll your eyes and wave goodbye to felix. within a handful of minutes, you and hyunjin are saying your goodbyes. hyunjin helps you to put on your shoes, and the two of you have almost escaped when changbin pulls hyunjin in for another kiss on the cheek.

“oh, come on!” hyunjin groans while changbin giggles in pure delight.

“bye, y/n! it was lovely having you here. you’re welcome back any time, with or without them!” changbin smiles at you.

you thank him, and minho, for dinner again. as you and hyunjin step into the hall, you are hit with another wave of tiredness.

hyunjin notices and drapes your coat around your shoulders, “let’s get you home, yeah?”

you nod, grateful that you don’t have to worry about staying awake to get home safely.

the two of you enjoy a comfortable silence as you make your way to your place. here and there, you share a smile, a knowing glance that both of you are quite happy to be there, together. there is a small pang in your chest when you reach your door, realizing that you’ll have to part ways with hyunjin now.

“so, i’ll see you in a few days for our next date?” hyunjin asks, hands in their pockets as they stand in front of you.

“of course! i’m looking forward to it.”

hyunjin grins. you start to turn toward your door, but you notice that they are staring at you.

“what’s up?”

hyunjin shakes his head slightly, as though they’re breaking themselves out of a trance, “nothing! sorry, i was just thinking about something.”

“care to share?” you raise an eyebrow, reenergized with curiosity.

their hand rubs the back of their neck, and they look down to the floor briefly, “i was running through the stereotypical goodbyes at the end of dates like this.”

you nod, only partially following their train of thought. they look back up at you, brown eyes soft yet focused. you’re not sure why, but you feel electricity in your fingertips beneath their gaze.

“in movies and books, nights like this usually end with a goodbye kiss.”

“oh, i see…” your voice fades, unsure of what to say next.

“we don’t have to! it just came to mind. probably an intrusive artistic thought. you know how creative brains live for the drama,” hyunjin jokes.

you laugh softly, somewhat halfheartedly, as you process what they said. you speak again, before they get too nervous.

“i wouldn’t be opposed to it,” you admit, “for the plot, of course.”

hyunjin’s eyes widen slightly in shock, but they nod quickly, “yes, for the plot! we should kiss for the plot!”

that sentence in particular earns a giggle from you, which relaxes hyunjin enough to take the necessary steps toward you. when you’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off each other’s bodies, hyunjin catches your gaze.

“are you sure?”

mustering up as much volume as you can–curse those big, beautiful brown eyes and all their charm–you respond, “yes, i’m sure.”

with that, hyunjin’s fingers delicately grace your chin, pulling you towards them. sweetly, like a hushed voice in a beautiful library, your lips meet. the kiss is quick, nothing too involved, but the sensation of hyunjin being so close to you, right beneath your fingertips, melts you in a way you can’t be sure that you’ve felt before. 

when you open your eyes, you see that hyunjin’s are still closed, despite separating your lips a dozen or so seconds ago. the corners of your mouth lift, appreciating the innocent look on hyunjin’s face.

“wow,” hyunjin whispers, brown eyes observing you with a soft fervor, “thank you.”

oblivious to how much you’re blushing, you reply with a confident, “no, thank you.”

they smile widely, amused by the playful tone of your voice. judging by the look on his face, this is the best ending to the night that hyunjin ever could have imagined. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

stretching your arms and groaning, you remove your body from the position it had been locked in for the past couple of hours. you know the knock on the door was hyunjin–it hadn’t taken long for you to memorize what it sounded like for him to be near–so you do your best to open the door quickly and cheerily, despite your aching neck and shoulders.

“so sorry i’m late!” hyunjin exclaims, “changbin wasn’t letting me leave lunch, despite my insistence that i had a very important date to attend.”

you roll your eyes as you step to the side, letting hyunjin into your home, “are you sure you two aren’t dating?”

they scrunch their nose in light disgust, “i am certain. i love changbin, but we are not compatible partners, no matter what he may try to convince you of.”

you laugh, feeling a little more joyous at that admission than you probably should. hyunjin asks you about your day as you collect snacks to share, and he happily chats about anything and everything. whenever together, it seems as though neither of you would ever run out of words.

“so, are you ready?” hyunjin stretches their hands and wrists.

you nod, eyeing the stereotypical leather journal in front of them, “probably not as ready as you are.”

he giggles at the reference to the journal, “well, if i’m going to be in the presence of a real writer, i have to at least look the part, right?”

“what does that make me then, with my laptop on a metal stand in front of me?”

they hum, feigning deep thought before replying, “cute. it makes you cute.”

you scoff at the sly cheesiness, still having to turn your head in an attempt to hide the blush, “all right shakespeare, what do you say we get to writing?”

“i could never say no to you, y/n,” hyunjin replies with a sugary sweet tone and extra honey in their eyes.

with that, you two find your focus. after painting together, you suggested a writing date. admittedly, the suggestion came from your need to work on your novel as much as it came from the desire to spend more creative time with hyunjin. they, of course, jumped at the opportunity, clearly feeling just as fond of your painting session as you. 

save for the low-volume background music, the sound of your keyboard, and hyunjin’s pen on paper, your home is delightfully silent. very quickly after hyunjin’s arrival, you make more progress than you had the entire day. hyunjin notices how in the zone you are, pausing their own work to appreciate your furrowed brow and fixed gaze on the screen. attached to the story unfolding in front of you, you’re not quite sure how long he has been observing you before you feel their eyes on you.

“is there something on my face?” your eyes flit to meet hyunjin’s before returning to the screen.

“just an admirable amount of concentration,” they chuckle, “though i’d hate to interrupt your flow, let’s take a quick break, yeah?”

you sigh, feeling the soreness in your wrists and back from vigorous typing, “okay, i guess we should.”

they’re obviously pleased as they sit up straighter, “yay! i think we deserve some treats, don’t you?”

you laugh, “i mean, i’m literally doing my job here, so i don’t know if that warrants a treat.”

hyunjin frowns, “everything warrants a treat! what do you want? a little bevvie? some food? it’s on me, so dream big!”

you laugh again, sweeter this time, “you don’t have to do that, hyunjin.”

he waves his hand in the air, dismissing your claim, “i do. you’re hosting me and letting me partake in your creative genius. the least i could do is offer you a snack or something!”

you can tell they won’t back down, so you agree to give them your order for your favorite restaurant. when the food arrives, you and hyunjin migrate to the living room, spreading out your spoils and turning on content you both love. it is casual and comfortable, wildly familiar despite this being the first time you two have had dinner like this. hyunjin says so themself, much to your delight.

after the plates have been cleared and the dishes have been cleaned, you two wind up at the table again, writing for hours and talking about random topics during your little breaks. eventually, you feel your brain wearing out, so you suggest that the writing session comes to a close. 

“that sounds perfect to me,” hyunjin agrees, covering his mouth as he yawns, “was it successful for you?”

you hum happily, “yes! i can’t say that i made as much progress as i had hoped to, but i feel like i’m really fleshing out this story for the first time.”

hyunjin grins, “that’s wonderful! i’m so proud of you.”

your heart warms at their admission, and you ask, “how was it for you? come up with any masterpieces?”

they giggle, “i don’t know if i can call any of them masterpieces, but i did write some poems.”

“oh? you’re a painter and a poet?”

hyunjin looks away briefly, again tucking their hair behind their ear, “poetry is my favorite thing to write. i don’t do it very often because i’m not that adept at expressing myself in this way, but i enjoy the process every time.”

“expressing your thoughts with words gets easier with practice, so don’t discount yourself!” you reassure them, pausing to gain the courage to ask, “could i…would you mind if i read something you wrote?”

their ears immediately turn pink, but that doesn’t stop them from nodding and flipping through to a specific page, “here, this is my favorite one from today. please be nice in your feedback, for i am just a girl.”

you giggle at the last comment, and you graciously take the journal they place in your hands. the poem is short and impactful. in particular, you feel a few lines settling deep in your chest: a tenderness on fire / a lightness in your eyes / the unbearable closeness of desire / in the presence of your touch, in the proximity of your potential 

“hyunjin,” you say their name softly, only loud enough for them to hear, “this is beautiful. your voice is captivating, truly. thank you for letting me read it.”

“you really think so?” their eyes linger on you, full of curiosity and wonder.

you nod, “i do. i can’t believe you wrote this while sitting at my kitchen table. i love it.”

hyunjin puts their hand on their chest, over their heart, “that means a lot, y/n. thank you.”

“of course,” you smile, slipping once again into a comfortable silence with them.

hyunjin accepts his journal back, and then fiddles with the page, “you can have this one, if you want.”

your eyebrows raise, shocked and excited, “really? you’re sure?”

they nod eagerly, tearing the page out before you formally accept it, “yes! i have your painting hanging by my desk, so it’d be an honor if you had my poem literally anywhere in your home.”

you laugh at their dramatics, gently holding out your hands to receive their beautiful words, “i’ll hang it on my fridge, so i can see it every morning, afternoon, and night.”

with that, hyunjin trails behind you like a puppy while you place the handwritten poem on your fridge, held up by your favorite magnet. you both smile, admiring the work in your quiet kitchen. the silence is only broken by hyunjin’s yawn, which they cutely apologize for. when you look at the clock, you realize how late it has become.

“oh wow! are you sure you’re awake enough to get home safely?”

“yes, i’ll be okay!” hyunjin assures you, walking toward your table to gather their things.

as you watch them move, you see their body sway with sleepiness in a way that emphasizes their natural clumsiness. there is no way you can let them travel alone, across town, in this state.

“hyunjin, please stay here tonight.”

they freeze, turning their head to you after a few beats pass, “are you–would that be–really?”

you fight the smile at their flustered response, “yes, really. i wouldn’t be able to sleep if i let you go home when you’re this tired. i probably have some clothes you can borrow and an extra toothbrush i keep for emergencies. you can sleep in the bed, and i’ll take the couch.”

“wow, y/n, thank you for caring this much about my well being,” they reply in an incredibly genuine tone.

your expression has to have been one of why wouldn’t i care about your well being? because they quickly speak again, “i just wouldn’t have expected my fake dating partner to be so generous with their home! no way i’m stealing your bed from you tonight, though. i will be sleeping on the couch, and that’s final.”

despite your honest efforts to donate your bed to hyunjin for the night, they truly won’t have it. you make up the couch while they get ready for bed, stepping into the bathroom yourself once they make themselves comfortable in the living room. you feel some nerves ripple inside you as you brush your teeth, but they verge on excitement more than anxiety. it’s strange, being so comfortable with hyunjin so soon. it could be the reduced pressure of your arrangement, or, more likely, it’s their good-natured spirit. you can’t help the warmth that envelops you as they wish you sweet dreams in a velvety, singsongy voice. you also can’t help the way your body sinks into the softness of your bed in an entirely new way, as though you have been introduced to a new kind of safety, a new kind of home that you didn’t know existed. you wonder whether hyunjin feels the same way too.

after a short while, you pad out to your kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. hyunjin sleeps soundly on the couch, blanket perfectly wrapped around them and hands folded under their pillow to prop their head at the perfect angle. you stare, enchanted by the soft curves of their slightly parted lips, hypnotized by the melodic rise and fall of their chest. standing there in your living room in the middle of the night, you discover that your fondness for the person in front of you has blossomed into something much greater than anything you would have expected weeks ago when you agreed to this fake dating venture. for fear that your gaze will pull them out of their slumber, you step back into your room, turning once more at the doorway to ensure they are still peacefully resting. 

it doesn’t take much reflection to determine that you feel something special in hyunjin’s presence. though entirely unexpected and definitely not a part of the original plan, you know in your heart that you wouldn’t want it any other way.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

early in your “relationship,” you and hyunjin joked that, for a two-month anniversary, you should meet for dinner at a stereotypically romantic restaurant. both of you were people of your word, so it was no surprise when hyunjin made a reservation for a bistro in the area. 

you decide to dress up like a movie character going to a date pertinent to the story’s plot–this may not be a proposal dinner, but two months into a three-month fake relationship certainly was worth celebrating. adorning curated accessories and the best outfit you could create, you happily stride to hyunjin at the restaurant’s entrance. 

the space is bustling with people and conversation, but hyunjin’s greeting cuts through the noise with absolute clarity. 

“hi y/n, you look lovely.”

you take a moment to appreciate their outfit–a simple trouser and button-up combo amplified by an embroidered blazer and statement jewelry–and reply with enthusiasm, “hi hyunjin, you look lovely too.”

he offers you a soft smile before guiding you through the front door. the host takes you to a table by the window, and you slip into your usual beginning-of-the-date conversation. hyunjin asks you about your day, tells you about theirs, and you laugh together at stories of your beloved friends doing dumb things. 

getting the basics out of the way, you ask a question that’s been on your mind all day, “how is your painting series going?”

hyunjin lets out a small sigh, but quickly follows it with a smile, “i’ve made significant progress. i still have a long way to go, but, thankfully, i’m figuring out what i want to capture now.”

“oh, good!” you clap your hands, “i imagine the sigh was because of the stress? i know we are both coming close to the deadline.”

they take a sip of their water and nod, “yes, exactly. it’s difficult to appreciate creative breakthroughs when you’re hyper-aware of the clock ticking. how is the book?”

you grimace, “honestly…not as formed as i would hope, given there’s only a month left before i need to hand in the manuscript. the story is there, but i’m just not sure if i believe it, you know? and there’s the matter of the ending…”

hyunjin’s brow furrows, “isn’t it a guaranteed happy ending?”

“yes, thankfully i didn’t have to do the heavy-lifting of deciding whether the characters ended up together. i want to make sure, though, that the ending feels real. the lovers in the story are flawed. they make mistakes, they don’t always choose what’s best, they have big feelings and even bigger questions, and, ultimately, they’re realizing that they barely know anything about real love. i’m stuck trying to figure out how to grant them the gift of true love without losing the readers’ trust in my portrayal of the lived experience of loving someone. i think…i’m worried about whether people will agree that these characters have earned the happy ending.”

“if true love is the ending, then it’s not something they need to earn,” hyunjin muses, “i think everyone deserves true love.”

you let those words hang in the air, rolling them over in your mind. eventually, you smile at hyunjin.

“i’m not sure if that’s a conclusion i can come to naturally, but i think it’s beautiful that you have a romantic outlook on it all.”

they chuckle, “well, i’m sure that beautiful mind of yours will come up with the perfect ending, even if you don’t completely agree with my philosophy on the matter.”

after placing your orders, you both opt for quiet people-watching. the view of the city from that window feels intimate. just beyond a pane of glass is the world where you and hyunjin existed simultaneously before your paths ever crossed. while it’s probably the writer in you, you sit there wondering how many people could change each other’s lives, if only they were given the chance to meet. 

the conversation is minimal throughout the rest of the meal. at times, you catch hyunjin watching you, only for them to quickly look away, seemingly embarrassed. you smile to yourself, unable to resist the cliché cuteness of it all. 

after you catch them for the umpteenth time, you tease, “you know, if we’re fake dating, there’s nothing wrong with you staring at me.”

they laugh, tucking their hair behind their ear like clockwork, “i guess you’re right.”

“mhm,” you nod, leaning back in your seat, “what’re you thinking about when you look at me like that?”

hyunjin freezes, apparently caught off-guard by the question, “what am i thinking every time i look at you?”

“okay, maybe requesting an itemized list of your thoughts every time you look at me is a bit…extravagant, even for us,” you laugh, “so i guess i’m asking what you’re thinking of tonight, while you’re looking at me like that.”

he fidgets in his seat, and you worry that you’ve accidentally crossed a line into real-dating territory. you try not to scold yourself, at least not in the moment, because this faux-pas was bound to happen at some point or another, right? 

you open your mouth to apologize for the weird question, but hyunjin answers, “i think we should end this.”

oh.

your mouth opens a few times before you can finally vocalize the only word you can think of, “what?”

hyunjin runs their hand through their hair, only to spin a ring on their finger over and over again while they speak, “i think we should end this arrangement we have. it’s been a lot of fun, don’t get me wrong, and i know we’ve both benefited creatively from it. i just think it has…run its course, you know?”

this arrangement. that phrase crashes over you like a tidal wave. you know it shouldn’t shock you because this is a fake dating arrangement. but it seemed that both of you started to treat it as something more. at least, that’s the impression you got with the intimate moments shared, the growing comfort between you two, and the abundant sweetness that surrounded you when you were together. sitting at this table and hearing these words, however, is an indication that maybe you were wrong. regardless, you can’t deny the fact that this has always been an at-will situation. if hyunjin wants to break it off, they can, no questions asked.

“i see…” you reply, hoping the pause wasn’t too long, “if that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“i’m sorry if this came out of nowhere. it must feel kind of random since i sort of…blurted it out,” they smile sympathetically, “i just think that it’s for the best. plus, we’ve both gotten what we needed out of this, right? i’ve gotten my paintings, and you’ve gotten your story. we accomplished what we set out to do.”

sure, you’ve gotten what you needed, but had you gotten all that you wanted? it feels as though there’s no use in asking hyunjin. if they wanted the same thing as you, they almost definitely wouldn’t have made the suggestion to end things.

“yeah, mission accomplished.”

you offer a weak smile, unsure of what to say next. a silence falls over you two again, signaling not comfort but the end of the conversation. you both simply have run out of words.

after saying the last thing you would have expected, after compartmentalizing everything you had built and secretly hoped you would never lose, hyunjin reaches out their hand, “no harm, no foul, right?” 

choking back tears and mustering all your strength into keeping it together, you offer them your hand and reply, “no harm, no foul.”

hyunjin removes their hand from yours and quietly gathers their things. when they ask if you’ll be okay getting home on your own, you simply nod. hyunjin believes you, or at least respects your desire for space, so, with a small goodbye–not even a promise to see you soon–he walks out of the restaurant. instinctively, your eyes move toward the street to ensure they’re heading home safely, but hyunjin chooses to travel down a route out of your view. maybe that is for the best. 

almost as though you’re the character in the movie you used as fashion inspiration, you lose track of time as you sit alone at the table. you know you need to go home, you want to get out of here, but you can’t figure out how to. when the waiter asks if you’d like more water, you shake your head and inform them that you’ll actually be leaving. 

“i hope you enjoyed your dinner!” they grin politely. 

“yes, yes, everything was great,” you lie.

“come back soon!” they call after you as you step past the threshold of the building.

you’re on the street. you’re standing where, only hours ago, you told hyunjin they looked lovely. how bitter it is to experience how much your world can change on such short notice. before you get too wrapped up in those thoughts, you will your legs to move, heading in the direction that will take you home. instinctively, you pull out your phone and call felix. when he picks up and says your name, everything falls apart.

“hey, are you okay? what’s going on?”

you sniffle, clear your throat, and beg your voice to do its job, “i don’t know, felix. i’m so confused. hyunjin…”

you hear felix jump to his feet on the other end, “did they hurt you? where are you? i’ll come get you.”

“no, they didn’t hurt me. well, not really. it’s,” a quick sob escapes your throat, muddling your words momentarily, “please come get me.”

“i’m coming. send me your location. i’ll be there as soon as i can.”

feeling comforted by the sound of his door closing behind him, you manage to say, “please bring jisung, too.”

“of course. stay where you are. stay safe. we’ll be right there. i love you, okay?”

“okay. i love you too. thank you,” you whisper, overwhelmed by the tears that stream endlessly.

after sending felix your exact location, you hide from the passersby against the corner of a building. with intense deep breathing and clenched fists, you manage to stop crying, at least enough for people to stop looking at you with concern. 

“y/n!” two familiar voices call out to you from across the street.

you smile when you see jisung and felix running towards you, and that gratitude breaks your resolve, so the tears come falling down all the same.

jisung’s face is saturated with worry, “hey, hey, what’s going on?”

felix, eyes glistening with tears, wraps an arm around you to safely lead you home. 

you stare at your feet, too emotional to look your dearest friends in the eyes while you admit, “hyunjin ended our…they broke…we won’t be seeing each other anymore. i don’t understand why, but…i think…my heart is broken.”

“oh, y/n…” felix laments.

jisung wraps his hand around yours and squeezes gently, “i’m so sorry. i honestly never would have expected this.”

“me neither,” you whisper, leaning even closer into felix, no longer distancing yourself from the truth.  

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tag list: @velvetmoonlght @tirena1 (<333 tysm)

[thefeathercollective]

we're 99.9% sure that portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa was plural.

okay uh disclaimer. we're not a psychology or literature expert by any means. we rarely even read poetry. we only heard of this guy in high school literature class and the thought stuck with us and then we found plausible evidence lmao. also, as a plural system ourselves, we're clearly biased.

and a considerable amount of this post will be sourced from wikipedia. and this is the first time we've made a post like this. please don't come after us I'm just writing this for fun lmao

huge ramble ahead!

who even was that man

Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa (Portuguese: [fɨɾˈnɐ̃du pɨˈsoɐ]; 13 June 1888 – 30 November 1935) was a Portuguese poet, writer, literary critic, translator, publisher, and philosopher, described as one of the most significant literary figures of the 20th century and one of the greatest poets in the Portuguese language. He also wrote in and translated from English and French.

yeah that's who the man was. but what really sparked our interest in him during class and made us wonder if he was plural were his...

✨heteronyms✨

y'know pseudonyms? when someone writes under a different name than their own for whatever reason? these are similar, but the catch is that the different names have different personalities, supposed appearances, philosophies, all that shit.

the term was coined by Pessoa himself, and his heteronyms were written as if they were real people. they had detailed careers, histories, etc. he had at least 70, although I vaguely remember some other source estimating it at around 100.

"but eva, these could just be OCs or something!",

he had 3 main ones though, being Alberto Caeiro (known for interpreting the world as-is, without greater meaning or anything, like some sorta anti-poet), Álvaro de Campos (a naval engineer who even had multiple phases in his philosophy) and Ricardo Reis (who wrote with a lot of structure and rationality, and was very pessimistic).

I predict someone typing. to that, I begin my endless copy-paste + ramble about all the things that make us think the heteronyms were headmates.

I'll throw in a section of a letter Pessoa wrote to some other poet (bolding the parts I find relevant because I don't love walls of text lmao)

How do I write in the name of these three? Caeiro, through sheer and unexpected inspiration, without knowing or even suspecting that I'm going to write in his name. Ricardo Reis, after an abstract meditation, which suddenly takes concrete shape in an ode. Campos, when I feel a sudden impulse to write and don't know what. (My semi-heteronym Bernardo Soares, who in many ways resembles Álvaro de Campos, always appears when I'm sleepy or drowsy, so that my qualities of inhibition and rational thought are suspended; his prose is an endless reverie. He's a semi-heteronym because his personality, although not my own, doesn't differ from my own but is a mere mutilation of it. He's me without my rationalism and emotions. His prose is the same as mine, except for certain formal restraint that reason imposes on my own writing, and his Portuguese is exactly the same – whereas Caeiro writes bad Portuguese, Campos writes it reasonably well but with mistakes such as "me myself" instead of "I myself", etc.., and Reis writes better than I, but with a purism I find excessive…)

so not only does he describe writing Caeiro completely unexpectedly, he also gives the same sort of opinion about his heteronyms' writings that we've seen (and experienced) plural folks give about their headmates' typing or drawing styles.

hell, "writes better than I but with a purism I find excessive" is exactly my opinion of lynn when he does our assignments lmao

the semi-heteronym surfacing when Pessoa is sleepy could be some sorta dissociative state that lets a headmate come through, be it straight-up fronting or passive influence... but I'm probably forcing it too much here.

uhhh here's something on the heteronym thing from some guy called richard zenish. I bolded some parts again

For each of his 'voices', Pessoa conceived a highly distinctive poetic idiom and technique, a complex biography, a context of literary influence and polemics and, most arrestingly of all, subtle interrelations and reciprocities of awareness. [...] Pessoa was often unsure who was writing when he wrote, and it's curious that the very first item among the more than 25,000 pieces that make up his archives in the National Library of Lisbon bears the heading A. de C. (?) or B. de D. (or something else).

"okay.... they could still be characters though"

the heteronyms were aware of and sometimes interacted between themselves. wikipedia's list of Pessoa's heteronyms even has the man himself as a heteronym and pupil of Alberto Caeiro, although I don't feel like going after the source for that bit.

dear hypothetical person I'm quoting here, you're entitled to your opinion. but how about we take, say... a more DID/OSDD-y approach to things? because there's things that hint that Fernando Pessoa's plurality could be traumagenic and/or disordered too.

When Pessoa was five, his father, Joaquim de Seabra Pessôa, died of tuberculosis and less than seven months later his younger brother Jorge, aged one, also died (2 January 1889).

(written by himself about himself:) Nothing had ever obliged him to do anything. He had spent his childhood alone. He never joined any group. He never pursued a course of study. He never belonged to a crowd. The circumstances of his life were marked by that strange but rather common phenomenon – perhaps, in fact, it's true for all lives – of being tailored to the image and likeness of his instincts, which tended towards inertia and withdrawal.

(written by a schoolfellow:) For one of his age, he thought much and deeply and in a letter to me once complained of "spiritual and material encumbrances of most especial adverseness". He took no part in athletic sports of any kind and I think his spare time was spent on reading. We generally considered that he worked far too much and that he would ruin his health by so doing.

so childhood trauma, check...? at the very least this stuff doesn't sound very good for a child's mental health.

Pessoa's earliest heteronym, at the age of six, was Chevalier de Pas. Other childhood heteronyms included Dr. Pancrácio and David Merrick, followed by Charles Robert Anon, a young Englishman who became Pessoa's alter ego.

"I can remember what I believe was my first heteronym, or rather, my first nonexistent acquaintance — a certain Chevalier de Pas — through whom I wrote letters to myself when I was six years old, and whose not entirely hazy figure still has a claim on the part of my affections that borders on nostalgia. I have a less vivid memory of another figure . . . who was a kind of rival to the Chevalier de Pas. Such things occur to all children ? Undoubtedly — or perhaps. But I lived them so intensely that I live them still; their memory is so strong that I have to remind myself that they weren’t real."

oh I just found some spiritual stuff too

the appearance of the first heteronym was after his family members died so that's one thing... and like, that's not just one childhood heteronym but at least four. and well, to me they sound a bit too vivid for your average imaginary friend.

Pessoa's interest in spiritualism was truly awakened in the second half of 1915, while translating theosophist books. This was further deepened in the end of March 1916, when he suddenly started having experiences where he believed he became a medium, having experimented with automatic writing. [...] Besides automatic writing, Pessoa stated also that he had "astral" or "etherial visions" and was able to see "magnetic auras" similar to radiographic images. [...] Mediumship exerted a strong influence in Pessoa's writings, who felt "sometimes suddenly being owned by something else" or having a "very curious sensation" in the right arm, which was "lifted into the air" without his will. Looking in the mirror, Pessoa saw several times what appeared to be the heteronyms: his "face fading out" and being replaced by the one of "a bearded man", or another one, four men in total.

........

man, this wikipedia article is extensive and full of stuff that supports our silly little theory, huh.

yeah, so he attributed it to spiritual reasons which is fair and valid, but... "owned by something else" all of a sudden? the thing with the right arm sounding a lot like partial possession in tulpamancy? seeing his heteronyms' faces in the mirror?

yeahhhh.

(I'm guessing the magnetic aura thing could be some sorta derealization, contributing to the he-was-a-dissociative-system hypothesis, but that's yet another stretch on my part.)

(plus, spiritual plurality is a thing.)

oh! this thing he wrote sounds a lot like it too.

"This tendency to create around me another world . . . began in me as a young adult, when a witty remark that was completely out of keeping with who I am or think I am would sometimes and for some unknown reason occur to me, and I would immediately, spontaneously say it as if it came from some friend of mine whose name I would invent, along with biographical details, and whose figure — physiognomy, stature, dress and gestures — I would immediately see before me."

let's just do a quick google..

am I biased? yes, very much so. but y'know. you can see I have my reasons.

to see if any people with more qualifications than we have think the same about Fernando Pessoa possibly being plural lmao.

...oh, yes. contrary to what we thought a couple years ago when we had that class about the guy, other people have indeed thought the same. and written about it.

keywords "fernando pessoa mpd" give us:

this paper from 2012 (in portuguese) that... well, I *think* it claims he had mpd but it's very convoluted and abstract about it

this little... forum post? from 2009 that quotes a dead link :v

this one seems kinda cool. it regards Pessoa's positive approach to his heteronym-having as a creative condion called Pessoa Syndrome, and later mentions some Multiple Personality Order (not disorder). don't love some of its wording about mental disorders and madness... it's good to see someone consider healthy multiplicity as a thing that exists, though. it also claims Pessoa became someone with multiple personalities through his heteronymic writing, which is yet another possible origin I hadn't considered before for some fucking reason.

this one cites a dissociative process

this one straight up calls it "subject plurality"!

conclusion ig. I'm pretending to be organized here.

other keywords (like "fernando pessoa dissociative") provide some more results :0 but I've been writing this post for far too long now and would rather not read through more odd wording lmao

it really surprises me that wikipedia doesn't mention the possibility at all from what I've read and ctrl+F'ed. I thought we were being a conspiracy theorist about it but then I found even more stuff to back us up, including other people's analyses. so that's nice.

and I think this kind of thing, of plurals of the past, should be talked about more in the community. it's really interesting to say the least.

...

how does one even end a post like this one.

uhh thanks for reading!!

[budgie-city]

THE ORIGINS OF BUDGIE CITY

Welcome to this informational article where I will be explaining what exactly this "Budgie City" is, where it came from, and in which direction it will be going. So, sit down comfortably - there are some interesting things waiting ahead of you! If you are interested in the lore, visit this article.

What exactly is "Budgie City"?

It is a fictional world that I am actively developing. At the moment, I’m in the process of writing it in the form of a paper draft. I write long texts by hand, and it seems to me that spelling out each letter, unlike typing, helps to approach the composition of sentences more thoughtfully, and to more successfully avoid strange and crooked constructions that will then have to be rewritten and corrected. It is far from the final, but I want to warm up people's interest in this world before the release of a full-fledged work, which is what I am doing now. I will not publish too many pieces of text until I have finished the story completely (though I probably will show some sneak-peeks). For now the content on "Budgie City" is mostly limited to drawings — concepts, sketches and character designs. Gradually, I've been starting to bring this topic to my YouTube channel in order to introduce the setting and concept to my viewers.

You may have seen my first video of Budgie City since 2014, which I have released quite recently — “I am not insane”, a video that focuses on one of the secondary conflicts of the story.

Where did this concept even come from?

It's quite a long story, and it's funny that this year is the ten year anniversary of me registering on the forum called "Budgie City". Yes, it all started with a regular internet forum — a by now almost extinct site format, which in the early 2000s and until about 2016-17 was the main place for interest groups on the internet. Now this has moved almost completely to social media, but before almost any hobby or interest had its own forum with different sections and topics. It saddens me a little that the golden age of forums has already passed.

In 2012, for the New Year, my parents bought me my first budgie — a classic green one, and I named him Gesha. At that time, I was not a regular "user" of the Internet yet. I only started to comprehend the vastness of the virtual network a few months later, and at first it leaned purely on me viewing memes in Google pictures and all sorts of videos on YouTube.

But in the spring of 2013, I discovered these wonderful things known as forums. And it was that point in time when I, having had a budgie with me for a year, decided to find a forum thematically fitting. Upon the request from my country, Google led me straight to the “Budgie City” forum.

The topics on there were something like rooms in a big house. The users randomly surfed through them and followed each other's daily lives. Therefore, Budgie City did actually feel really like being in a virtual society where everyone knows each other. I was getting used to the frequent people, getting to know each person individually. I went to their topics to write comments and answers, they wrote in mine. That's how we existed as this cozy club of interests.

There is an interesting thing with almost every child that is on the Internet — no matter where, in which community — a person with the admin/moder status is perceived as an absolute authority, any response from which causes awe and delight. And there were certain, more active and sociable admins in Budgie City — Anya under the nickname "Phoenix Bird" and Olga under the nickname "Olivka". The "Phoenix Bird" nickname spoke for itself — the image of a large bird of fire that walks around the city and receives admiring glances from everyone, was drawn in my head almost instantly. Olivka didn't have an image yet; I started turning her into a character much later.

Phoenix and Olivka in their modern designs (2022)

In the early summer of 2014, I read "Warrior Cats", and that’s where the whole story took off. I suddenly felt like I should become a writer too and write my own book. And 12-year-old me, who was spending 80% of my online traffic on the forum, decided to write a story, turning part of the admin staff and the budgies of familiar forum members into their own characters. Phoenix and Olivka turned into birds, the latter in particular acquired an image in the form of a wompoo fruit dove with olive-tinged wings, the budgies of the forum were also turned into their respective characters: Gesha and Yasha (mine); Glasha and Gosha (Hoatzin); Clementine, Jack, Fenya, Nira, Mouse, Castorka, Mithril and Small (Phoenix); Kuzya (Dmitriy68), Milana (Radujniy), Raisin (yyna) and others.

Sections of the forum have turned into parts of the city — the restaurant, the mayor's office, the registry office and nursery, and suburbs with parrots of other species, located on trees surrounding baobabs.

This is how the novel of the same name with the slogan "Feathered Metropolis" was born from the "Budgie City" forum. I posted it in its own topic, had about a dozen readers and, judging by the reviews, they all really liked reading the story. Although, looking back at the writing now... I wouldn't call it something breathtaking. Rather the opposite. But then again, I am now judging from the perspective of a third-year animation director student, and not the fifth grader I was at that time.

A couple of my original illustrations from 2014

The story was successfully brought to an end in about seven months, and after a while I started writing a sequel — however, the central conflict wasn’t thought out the slightest, so the plot quickly crumbled and was abandoned after several chapters.

Now the original text is lost in the vastness of the web — somewhere there is a piece of the prologue, somewhere even a couple of chapters. But the full version no longer exists — it was published only on the forum, and the said forum, unfortunately was — somewhere around 2019 — ruthlessly deleted from the Internet due to the desolation. All that's left of it are snapshots in the Wayback Machine.

Rewriting from the old version into a new one

In 2017, three years later, I made an attempt to rewrite "Budgie City" from scratch — leaving only the main conflict, the structure of the world, and the set of characters the same, to write a new text out of this "skeleton". Progress did not go beyond the prologue and the first chapter however, and rewriting was abandoned.

The same story with 2019 — a couple of pages, that’s all.

Two artworks from 2019

The next approach took till early 2021 to happen, when the original story turned almost six and a half years old. At that time I was already in the middle of my first year of animation directing at SPbGIKiT (Saint Petersburg State Institute of Film and Television). I wrote the prologue and part of the first chapter and went to proudly tell our master Galina Voropai about my "really cool" world. Galina interrupted me in the middle of the impromptu presentation, after which followed a forty-minute roast, thoroughly and in detail explaining that the "Budgie City" in its concept is a piece of junk that does not have the right to exist in its current form. And all this was in the presence of my classmates in the workshop. I gave up trying to defend myself halfway through, and when it was all over, I got up, quietly thanked Galina for a detailed objective analysis of the shortcomings of my project, went down to the first floor, huddled in a bathroom stall, and burst into tears.

It was the first (and yet the only) time in my life where I was literally crying over my work, and the girls from senior courses came to my howls, and we sat together on the windowsill of a public toilet. I was all red, shaking, and dropping snot, as they tried to calm me down.

(my mental state that day)

After that, I did not return to those written several pages for about a year and a half. I began to doubt whether I should continue at all or if it would just be a waste of time.

After the roast from the master, I went through all five stages of grief:

Yes, that was tough. But after so much time, I was finally able to evaluate the message of this scolding with a cool head and understand that most of the comments were actually really helpful - the conflict and the world did require a lot more careful study and rework. With the next approach, I wrote out all the conflicts, all the character motivations, and made a proper plan. And since the end of last autumn, I have returned to writing. Now I know where the story will begin, where it will head, and how it will end. All the actions performed by the heroes are finally based in actual logic. And, although Galina will not see the final result (she sadly passed away at the end of 2021), I hope that the new version will be one that she would have approved of.

A small FAQ:

Q: When will the book be released?

A: I don't want to make any promises as of now, because writing is a rather spontaneous and uneven process. I write more when I am inspired, and inspiration is impossible to predict. So the answer is simple — it will come out when it's finished :D

Q: Will it be released electronically or in a printed book form? Will I have to pay for reading it?

A: I plan to release the final version "Budgie City" in the same way as the old one — in open access, so that everyone can read it at any time. I will not charge money for reading the electronic version, but if there will be a demand for physical copies, I may release a small print run, which will cost money for those who want to get a copy. But it's a little early to think about that anyway.

Q: How does the world in Budgie City work? How do they live? What is the main conflict of the story?

A: All of this you can find out in this article!

Q: Where can I find more content to this world and story?

A: On this very blog or on my YouTube channel

I hope this article was helpful and informative enough for you to know where "Budgie City" comes from and in which direction it is currently heading. Thank you for reading!

Huge thanks to @annchanorsomethin for helping with translation of this article!

[copias-girl]

Hey. I saw you deleted all the excitement/nonsense from the other day, wanted to check in on you. I realized that while I've been on this hellsite for 12 years and seen and experienced a great deal of my own anon drama, I forget how overwhelming & terrible it feels when it first happens to you.

I failed to notice that, in addition to being very new to this site, you're also only 18 (please note that this is not meant to sound condescending - tone is impossible to convey via text). I was a couple years older than that when I joined here, and I carried just as much excitement and energy into everything I posted and reblogged and quickly gained a reputation for myself. From what I've observed from your blog though, mine was decidedly...less fun & positive, so I got a LOT of anonymous messages telling me what they thought of me. I would spend a lot of time thinking about those anons and the terrible things they said to me, constructive or not, objective or not. It didn't matter how many support messages I got from friends or mutuals, or how much we mocked the anons or made light of the situation - I was angry, embarrassed, felt like nothing I did would fix it, and sometimes didn't want to log onto this site anymore, despite it being the only outlet I had to express myself in this way.

It is normal to focus on the small negative in spite of the overwhelming positive - healthy? No. But normal.

My point is: Please do not let this nonsense deter you from being you. Not everyone is going to like you, and that is totally fine. Not everyone is going to like how you post/reblog on your blog. Speaking solely for myself, I generally keep a more contained dashboard I can scroll through quickly at work, so I don't follow your blog, but I don't translate my personal feelings on how you blog into my personal opinion of you as an individual. Everyone blogs differently on this site, which is what keeps it interesting. I'm also not so chronically online to go out of my way to send you a 5-paragraph essay about consent or being hypersexual in a fandom for a gay Satanic band. Instead I'll send you a 8-paragraph essay trying to comfort you and to tell you not to despair, lmao.

I LOVE your enthusiasm about how you express yourself in your posts & reblogs, and it seems there's a shit ton of blogs around you that feel the same way & express themselves the exact same way. Don't lose that spark! Don't let them rain on your parade! [Insert another cliche phrase here]!

Take time if you need a break, but please understand you did nothing wrong. Everything said to you was someone's opinion they wanted to force on you to control how you behave because they themselves are terrified of the world around them and don't understand they cannot control others. Hopefully one day they'll realize how sheltered and, quite frankly, stupid they are. I did.

My advice: if you ever reopen anons and start getting those messages again, delete them and don't engage. Most of the time they're just looking for attention, to rile you up. Classic bullying tactics.

Or print out their messages and use them as firewood. Or toilet paper. Whatever works.

Lastly, you don't have to acknowledge this or publish this message if you don't want to. Genuinely, I just wanted to reach out and make sure you're okay and to attempt to longwindedly impart some advice from my own experiences over the decade.

You do you, dude. Fuck the haters.

Thank you so so much for this incredibly kind and comforting message ♥︎ I really appreciate it more than you could imagine, it even made me cry reading it. I feel like this message is a good closer for this situation, so I’m also going to use it as an opportunity to give a little PSA about how my blog will be operating from now on.

First of all, just thank you again. I’m honestly astonished because every single thing you mentioned is exactly how I feel. The hurt of it all despite getting so much support, the empty feeling of not wanting to go on tumblr anymore despite it being my only outlet. Tumblr was supposed to be my safe space, my escape, my home, and it really sucks because it honestly doesn’t feel like that anymore.

I think the thing that hurts the most is that literally no one reached out to me as a friend in the dms to tell me that I was bothering them. I’m not a mind reader, so if no one says anything then I assume I’m not bothering them. But I do pride myself on always being approachable, I’m ALWAYS open to people messaging me with their concerns.

It’s different when it’s some faceless anon who comes off as slightly passive aggressive. If someone would have just DMed me, I definitely would have put more thought into it and taken their suggestion. Since I haven’t been on tumblr long, I didn’t even know the difference between reblogging with a comment or reblogging with tags until literally just now during this whole situation.

I just feel like I’ve been serving spaghetti every night for dinner. 9 people say they absolutely LOVE it, but then I come to suddenly find out the 10th person doesn’t. But they never said anything all this time, so how was I supposed to know?

I’ve had two people block me who I thought were my friends. One who, during this situation, even said she’d always be there for me. Basically, she informed me that our mutual friend had been upset about my comments and apparently never said anything before this, so I reached out to that friend and apologized. She apparently got triggered by my apology, and they both blocked me. That hurt. A lot. And if I’m being honest I’ve been fighting so hard not to self harm during this time.

I feel like I’ve been treated like a malicious criminal over this, when in reality everyone should know damn well I’ve never done ANYTHING to deliberately make people feel bad.

And don’t worry, I definitely did not take the comment about my age to be condescending. In fact, I wish more people would have taken it into account. And the fact that I’ve only been on tumblr for 6 months, so I don’t really know much about it.

I have a life outside tumblr. I’m a student, and I’ve had to be a full-time caretaker to sick relatives who have now unfortunately passed away. I’m grieving. My father abandoned me and my mother, so I’ve had to take over doing all the things that he used to do.

I come on tumblr, I scream about everyone’s favourite satanic antipopes, I post some fics, and then I close the app and go about my life. I don’t research the history of tumblr and what’s deemed acceptable by certain groups of people. I’m a human. I’m a real teenage girl, with feelings. I’m able to be hurt, and triggered, and everything else. I know I’ve created a personality for myself on here, and I think people often forget that I’m a real girl.

I wish I could say I’m okay, but right now that spark definitely feels dampened into a sad little ember. Since this has happened, I’ve almost stopped eating entirely, and when I do eat, I immediately throw it right back up. My Mom took me out to eat and I threw up in public. This has honestly had my stomach in knots.

Today was the first day I actually didn’t feel nauseous. So hopefully time will heal this wound. I wouldn’t wish this on ANYONE, but I’m glad to see you got through it and made it out ok. I’m hoping for the same outcome for myself too.

Now for the PSA portion of this message (everyone please read):

Will I stop being unhinged? Hell no. But I will be moving any horny comments into the tags, as suggested by the people who had complaints. The absolute last thing I want to do is alienate people and make people uncomfortable. (I still have questions about reblogging with comments tho, for example, if I say something not horny should I still put that in the tags or is it ok to comment that?)

Secondly, my best friend suggested that I should just start taking my unhinged comments and making them into posts of their own, so I’ll probably do that too. I think I might tag them with some cheesy tag, probably a pun on nsfw (not sugar for work?) so that if you’d like to blacklist that tag, you can, and then your dash will be safe for scrolling at work or wherever. And you can just click ‘view post’ if you want to view it.

So, rest assured, the horny party will never stop! But since I’ll be putting my stuff in the tags, you probably won’t see it circulating as much as reblogged comments, so if you want to see me being unhinged, just come to my page and scroll through!

Also, I’ve gotten so many other supportive messages and I want to thank everyone for sending them in. I won’t be answering them, because I don’t want a lot of stuff about this situation on my blog. And this is going to be the last time I talk about this situation on my blog. But the supportive messages really do mean a lot to me, so thank you all ♥︎

I feel malaise, so I might still be absent for a little while, but I’ll try to get back in the saddle as soon as I can. I haven’t been in the best mindset to write, but I’m really going to try because posting fics and running this account genuinely make me happy.

Thank you for taking the time to read, and I hope to see you all again very soon

Love always,

Sugar <3

[at-thestillpoint]

last 10 fics—

tagged by @goddesspharo to share the opening lines of my last 10 fics. it boggles the mind that i even have 10 fics published, because i channel the soul of a snail when i write. in reverse chronological order, with a spot of director's commentary:

1. heaven's in your eyes (i'm your national anthem) — the politics au!

Natasha notices his forearms first. 

2. love you like a lover should (tell this world you're mine) aka the other fwb fic

Natasha buys the dress not because it looks good on her—though it absolutely does—but because, with its halter neck and the two ties in the back that hide absolutely nothing, it’s the kind of thing that’s designed to look fine on but beg to be taken off. 

3. i dreamed you a sin and a lie — you know you're old when you're more compelled by the relationships between adults in an adventure story about teenagers

Do you dream? the boy asks.

4. break my heart, bring it back to life aka the alt pov of the original fwb fic

The texts start at 8:35, arriving in quicker and quicker succession until Jake’s phone is buzzing so violently on his kitchen island that, in his attempt to put whatever god forsaken group chat it is on Do Not Disturb, he forgets to turn on the burner under his cast iron pan. 

5. fill this ghost town up with life aka the fwb fic

It starts like most of her bad decisions: tequila shots and nineties pop music so bad that it’s good.

6. you could be the one that i keep

In the morning, Natasha wakes slowly, her awareness filtering in with the gauzy light peeking through her curtains.

7. count my cards, watch them fall — a tumblr ask fill for a heist au, and an exercise in letting the fic take me where it wanted to go. i needed to watch three separate heist movies to get a feel for it and still didn't write the heist!

“You’re overlooking one minor detail,” Hangman says, somehow, suddenly, the voice of reason, even though Bob and Payback are sitting right there, which is when he knows shit has definitely gone sideways.

8. texas man / california sand — cheating and giving y'all a bonus, because these two chapters are separate (but obv very related!) stories in my head.

When Natasha thinks of Texas, she thinks of heat.

Maybe it’s because he grew up with everything he could ever want at his fingertips, but Jake’s never been the jealous type. 

9. as high as you can into the wild blue — the first chapter of this fic is probably my favorite thing i've written. i miss the prose i was capable of!!

She spends so much of her time in the sky, forty thousand feet above ground, one thousand miles an hour, looking across the horizon and seeing the world like so few people ever get the chance to, that she forgets at some point how big it is.

10. a million little times

When she asks him, Are you really going to marry Odette?, what she really means, she knows, is Don’t marry Odette.

tagging: anybody and everybody!

[bookofmirth]

Lele, I have a rambling though

We always have discussions about possibilities for SJM future books (especially acotar 5) and I always read interpretations that are done so very tastefully and with a lot of knowledge on text interpretation, book context and narratives

but the thing is… ppl always treat SJM as this super hiper mastermind and after HOFAS and how messy and not good it was (honestly it was terrible) … I’m a little afraid about acotar 5 and sjm choosing to go with the easiest way (which, for me, would be choosing Elriel - since with Gwyn she would have to treat her trauma her carefully and be more cautions on her narrative) and I don’t know if I see her doing it 😓

(Also… I would like to say as my last though of someone who is following her since 2018 - that SJM loves to write about powerful woman and the friendships between them and their bonds but to let the fandom be where it is today… young impressionable girls treating each other with such hostility and disrespect… I know she probably can’t say anything bc of contracts but man is a hard pillow to swallow that she “let” the fandom be where it is today… which is a horrible place.)

Anon, have some rambling thoughts of mine!!! hehehe

A big difference between acotar and hofas is how thoughtfully she generally treats the acotar characters. I've been thinking a lot about this the past few days and the main thing I dislike about hofas is how the plot and world building absolutely take over everything to the detriment of the characters. I cannot understate how much I dislike Bryce, and I've always pinpointed her lack of consistent values as the core reason why. hofas really, really emphasized that writing flaw. Not character flaw, but writing flaw.

People acting like sjm is some mastermind drives me crazy when we can see all the plot holes and inconsistencies and retcons. One of these days, someone should make a list of them. Anyway, she mentioned rereading the acotar series sometime last year, and I would bet you good money that she did so in order to see what she can use. She has said explicitly that she isn't great at world building and she has also said that she didn't plan the crossover until she was writing hosab. That means any connection we see between hofas and, for instance, acomaf, is a result of her going backwards to see what she can use. Not the other way around. She "planned" in the sense that she wrote really vague stuff in the first place so that she could use it how she wanted to later on. That has become really apparent to me with the crossover.

Like... for example, Mor's power is "truth". Vague as fuck, right? I would bet good money (again haha like I'm rich) that sjm didn't even know what that meant in acomaf other than "I need a reason for the mortal queens to trust Mor". And then she'll figure out the mechanics and technicalities later and the fandom will call her brilliant for it. *facepalm*

I don't see e*riel being easy at all. But that's all I will say about that hehe.

Gwyn's story aligns perfectly with what sjm has already been doing in acotar, with Rhys and Lucien, and to an extent Nesta. I don't have any concerns there because I think her strength is in her characterization. (CC is just... another beast.) There was an interview she did a while back where she talked about the movie Promising Young Woman and it really emphasized to me that sjm's particular brand of feminism revolves around gender and sex. This isn't a critique, just a statement of what I've observed. My point is that she is very aware of rape culture and has strong feelings about it and gives characters the space to heal on page, and so that's not really a concern of mine, especially in acotar.

To your final point, I got SO frustrated the other day in the group chat, @sabrinasam said it was the most frustrated she's ever seen me haha. I'm so tired of sjm and the publisher being coy about this!!!! But mostly, I am so, so sick of people in this fandom treating each other like shit just because they don't agree on ships. Like it's one thing to have notps and brotps and to be annoyed by or even hate certain characters. It's a completely different thing when people feel totally comfortable going out in public and treating other actual, real, human people like absolute garbage because of those feelings.

Azriel is never gonna lick your fucking home entertainment center!!! Get the fuck over it!!!!!!!!!

I don't think that sjm is at fault for this because I think that people are responsible for their own actions. I also fully believe that the people taking screenshots and mocking them publicly (of people who probably have them blocked anyway, fucking stalkers) or just outright attacking people on different platforms would be doing that exact same thing whether it was about sjm or not. Like you could just stick them in another fandom, and these people would act the same deplorable way.

Anyway. I'm fucking tired. I'm still excited for acotar5 and will continue that series and when I was doing a lil voice chat with my friends for hours last weekend it revived my enjoyment of acotar and ToG. The fandom just makes it a lot of work, trying to have fun.

[gojonanami]

lmaooo I’m starting to feel bad for prof geto — also it’s funny because there was so many people who were just doubled down on prof geto and now everyone is like yuta 💕🥹 which I’m glad for!! lmao you make fair points — I mean the point is for it to be a mistake! But it’s also understandable to try something even if it doesn’t ultimately work out — because you really don’t know until you try. he also has a lot more work because the last dept head fucked things up but honestly poor yuta is caught in the crossfire of this situation — he will have his own happy ending though 🥹💕

Look, I want to defend Professor Geto.

I think Professor Geto's actions make sense. They do. And I think this chapter prevents Professor Geto from turning into a Gary Stu.

It's hard to maintain a long-term relationship, and it is not the same as having a relationship in person. It is not. Having a video call with someone over dinner is not the same thing as seeing them in person. There is a reason why the people you're closest to physically and geographically end up being your closest friends. For instance, one of my friends from school who I was not that close to but still friends with ended up becoming one of my best friends because we attended the same university. And another friend of mine I now barely talk to because we live continents and time zones away and because the rhythms of our lives are so different and we are now out of sync. It didn't happen because I didn't want to be friends with her, but simply because ten to fifteen minute calls could never equate to meeting up with someone in person every day and sending hours talking to them or just being in their presence. I am getting off track now, I know, but the point still stands: given that long-term relationships are not the same thing as having a relationship in person, and given that you love that person and want them to experience the maximum amount of happiness possible, if it comes at the cost of your own unhappiness, does that not make sense?

Yuta is a new character that we don't have an established relationship with. Fine, he is nice, I will concede. And he is nice to her. But to play the devil's advocate, he seizes upon the opportunity of her having a long-distance relationship with her boyfriend. He pays attention to her phone calls, subtly presses her about her boyfriend, and positions himself in her life in such a way as to function as a quasi-replacement for her boyfriend. For her birthday, he does not offer to throw her a birthday party with the Student Committee or ask her about her family or her friends. Instead, he wants her to spend the day with him and with him only, and while that is not strictly stated, such a reading can still be read into and made (I don't have the time to isolate sections of the text currently).

Coming back to Professor Geto, though. Professor Geto is young, smart, accomplished, and handsome, with phenomenal career growth. Despite his young age, he is successful. He is influential. He has published countless articles and books, given lectures, travelled to conferences and other universities, and functioned as a poster boy for both the university he was employed at and for the field of ethics at large, which is in desperate need of such poster boys to attract interest and even students. While it is not explicitly stated (perhaps for reasons of my selfishness), I am assuming that he works at a very, very good university, too. He is a fantastic man! A Prince Charming embodied and reinvented for our age and for the female gaze. Now, for such a character to exist, he has to have at least some flaws, no? And procrastination is believable. Look, I am using the term procrastination because, in his behaviour, I can recognise a pattern that is manifest in me and some of the people around me. Social relationships are tough to maintain sometimes, even with the people you love more than anything, and work is often all-consuming (especially for someone like Professor Geto). Sometimes, stress eats away at you and worms into your mind, and you feel an urge to delay, procrastinate, focus on something else, stare, and debate, and this just causes more and more time to pass. Once a specific socially accepted passage of time for replying has passed, you almost feel like you can't send a message at that point, as you've been an utter imbecile for failing to do so beforehand. And if you're working in the field of ethics, it may bring with it a certain sense of indecisiveness (or, perhaps, it attracts personalities who tend to overthink – a double-edged sword of sorts). What is the best outcome in a situation that does not favour you? What do you owe to yourself and to others? Is what you owe yourself more important than what you owe others? What does it mean to have a happy life? Is having a successful career more rewarding than having a successful relationship? Is it fair to calculate the chance that if one is an attractive character with an amiable character, they will be able to find a sustaining relationship for them later down the line, while in the world of work, age does play a part and employers spend time looking at employment history and any potential gaps? Adding to that, is there a point in snatching career opportunities, and should they come at the cost of personal happiness? And speaking from personal experience, sometimes, it feels like delaying, and not sleeping to the point of utter exhaustion will alleviate the situation as it reduces you to a state of numbness. If you're a perfectionist, too, crafting the perfect response or apology can be a horribly difficult task, and while I am lucky that my sister entertains my twenty messages of 'Does this email sound okay?' Not everyone has that, and unfortunately, as you age, due to social perceptions/constructions/deviations in schedules/etc., you find yourself having less and less people to whom you can write fifty messages regarding a situation like 'Did I misunderstand this message?' or 'If she just replied using an emoji, does that mean that she doesn't like me as much as a friend anymore?'

I think the way Professor Geto acted makes sense. Just because he thought that he was behaving according to a mindset wherein he prioritised the future and the minimisation of pain for his partner does not necessarily equate to him being a bad partner.

And the infatuation with Yuta is, in part, due to: 1) recency bias; 2) the fact that we haven't seen as much of his character, psychology, or weaknesses (which is fine; he's a side character; not every character in a series, novel, or whatever will get the same treatment); and 3) his presentation and manifestation of the self in the world in which he manufactures an image of himself that is favourable in part to curry favour with the woman he is attracted to.

I would just like to add that I do not think that Yuta is a 'bad guy'. I just think that his character can be read in more complex ways, as can Professor Geto's.

I firmly believe that with the way in which this series is unfolding, an ending wherein Professor Geto gets back together with his girl narratively makes sense.

Also, other points to consider are: 1) She sought out Yuta's presence as a replacement for Professor Geto, and in her mind, considering the connection and sheer attraction that she harbours for Professor Geto, Yuta will inevitably be compared to Professor Geto in almost every way; 2) Relationships manifest in different ways, and in the case of our protagonist, in my reading of her, for her, it is not just the spiritual, soulmate-like, friendship-level connection that is important, but also the element of intense attraction, too. She did not feel that with Yuta. She did not feel this overwhelming, intense, possessing, all-consuming, delightful, and powerful connection, attraction, and pull towards Yuta. Rather, it was a feeling of comfort and, in some sense, convenience, a recognition of him harbouring affections towards her and that being a convenient outlet for distracting herself from her lingering (and still very powerful) feelings for Professor Geto. As a reference, I would like to draw attention to the beginning of the chapter, when she is trying to find a way of occupying herself by joining the Student Union; her entering a relationship with Yuta could be considered in a similar light.

Overall, then, I would like to strongly emphasise that there is a strong case to be made for the overseeing of narrative progression in such a way that it guarantees Professor Geto reuniting with his girl.

okay this is amazing and I have no notes 💯

I really did have this chapter to prevent prof geto from becoming too perfect — he needs to make mistakes and he needs to have flaws, otherwise he’s just too good and no one is like that.

yuta truly does have reader’s best interests at heart — but is he taking advantage? A little bit — he is putting himself there in a position where he and reader could be taken advantage of by the other. but we’ll see that all unfold in part five.

narratively, it is correct that reader and prof geto end up together and they are supposed to!! that’s the point. this is a period for them to realize what their lives are like without the other after experiencing what is it like to be together 🥹💕

[true-blue-sonic]

For the Ask Game:

💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

⏰️ Do you like to post fics on a schedule or at random?

🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?

💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

Hmm, it's not really a change, but I wish we would get more clarity on Silver and his time-travelling abilities. There's a lot of information from which we can infer that he travels to the past out of his own free will (e.g. Silver always says he came from the future instead of getting sent from the future), but in the same vein, the characters who live there don't seem to know anything about how it works either (e.g. Tails being startled by Dodon Pa being able to send letters through time and space towards Silver and Blaze). I would like it if we got a complete confirmation that Silver has full control over his time-travelling, and furthermore what means he uses, such as the Chaos Emeralds.

⏰️ Do you like to post fics on a schedule or at random?

When I'm writing a multi-chapter fic, I try to stick to a schedule: New Beginnings got uploaded on Fridays, and Genesis on Sundays because I found having the weekend to work on it more really helped with finalising the chapters. Hmm, if I ever start publishing Could Reminisce Forever, maybe I'll do it on Saturdays this time? XD

One-shots I just post whenever they are finished, though!

🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?

I'm having quite the case of it right now, rip... I think "just get started" is always good; what you have can be edited. In the words of an acquaintance of mine: you cannot edit an empty page. "Do it scared" is also a good one: even if you fear that it'll suck, you don't need to upload everything you write immediately! I've found that just writing something and coming back after a few days gives me ample opportunity to edit a text I feel unsure about into something far more pleasant to read. I've also read a tip that you should make a playlist with songs relevant to your story and go walking for 30 minutes if you are stuck; I'm gonna try that one myself too. And I think it is most important to make it fun! I enjoy really getting in the heads of my characters and trying to imagine what they're feeling and doing, which I then try to put on paper. So find what makes writing fun for you, and hold onto that ^-^

But also, write what you find fun! I love fluff and romance stories, so that's what I write most, with Espio and Silver. I think that's why New Beginnings was so enjoyable for me to work on: there was an overarching plot and some stakes, but most of it was very lowkey cuteness of the bois getting to know each other better and falling in love. Maybe I myself should look into that for Could Reminisce Forever too🤔

[str8aura-no-not-that-one]

Str8aura,

I come to you in the hour of need!

Having recently reread your amazing ‘Death and Taxes’, I was again reminded of my inadequacy in this biz. I have no idea how you managed to craft such an immersive story and great characters in 50k words AND in less than a year, but you did. It would absolutely be a hit if published. I cannot believe I identified with a monster-town. My silly ass is in a constant state of schism between admiration and jealousy over every aspect of your writing, and I don’t appreciate this feeling at all! I know they say that we shouldn’t focus on comparing ourselves to others, but I disagree – I believe comparing your own stuff to better stuff is the only way to improve. And I’d love to improve. Could do without the crippling jealousy, though :P

While I still think my take on this world is worth seeing through to the end, I struggle with many elements. I’ve watched videos and read manuals about writing. Valuable material, but not quite enough. So here’s my question – would YOU mind giving me some tips? For starters maybe something about keeping yourself in line when scheduling, because that’s just an abysmal bloody disaster in my case. Also – structuring. You created a fantastic balance between dialogue, description, plot and character development, I feel my text often reads like an article (which makes sense ‘cause I worked with those). I’ve trimmed some fat already, but maybe I could keep going – especially with the bullshit magic-science stuff and overwriting the feels/thoughts. I liked writing it, but now I realize it can be exhausting to follow. Looong stretches when nothing really happens and people just feel sorry for themselves. But idk, that’s not always a big problem.

This brings me to the characters in general. I feel I did alright, but I have doubts. Relationships have never been my strong suit, which is… less than ideal for this hobby. In real life, I’m decidedly more of an observer than a participant, and this shows here and there. Perhaps it’s better that I didn’t use many perspectives because I’d struggle even more. In your story everyone knew about the curse, in mine only a few people do, and that happens over time. The ‘normal’ problems of the leads eventually converge with the paranormal one, so I thought it was best to not dedicate too much attention to the stuff that has little to do with either. But what do you think?

No matter what, I’m absolutely NOT giving up on the pretentious lingo, however :P We museum people are pretentious by trade! If you ever find some free time, could you perhaps check out a fragment of my fic and see what doesn’t work? It’s ‘Hateful’ on AO3. Don’t feel obligated to by any means, I know that just reading this sentence raised your blood pressure lol

And, last but not least, please tell me how to kill the envy demon. I HOPE it’s had its teeth in you at least once in the past, goddamnit XD Otherwise I’m a lost cause

Sorry for accosting you like this, but it’s been on my mind for too long. Release me from this prison!!!

Congrats again I hope you do end up publishing something one day

Hello, Plague. Waking up and finding this in my inbox told me that today might be alright. Thank you again for your excellent fanart.

Jealousy

The man who I can claim most truthfully is my most beloved friend is a writer like me. In fact, without their influence, I would not be a writer at all; They have encouraged me, proofread for me, criticized me, and guided me every step of the journey that has led me to who I am today. I would take a bullet for this man, as many times over as my body would allow.

He also holds popularity I have never achieved. He is the darling of the featured box, earns hundreds of likes and comments where I scrounge up tens, and has attracted the eyes and praise of people whom I am only a number to. When I look upon him, this man whom I love as if he were my own blood, I understand Salieri. I understand Brutus. I understand what it is like to love someone and yet feel a deep, shameful, green-eyed rage towards them. I firmly believe we do the same amount of work, try just as hard as each other, and yet he is beloved and I am not.

So it goes. Jealousy is the worst beast we as mortals can face, and we will be the flesh it feeds on if we allow it to. I am dreadfully sorry you feel this way about me, and honored at the same time, but I must remind you what on the internet it is easy to forget; I, as well as my beloved friend, am just a human. Nothing more, nothing less. It is fruitless to feel jealous, when that same energy could be devoted towards outmatching me. You think I'm good? Be better.

You cannot kill the envy demon. Don't try. You must learn to live with it, to accept it as you accept every other piece of yourself. And when you do that, you domesticate it.

Scheduling:

The tip I have learned, dedicated to heart, and use whenever I can is simple; Write up to a key stopping point, the point at which you feel will be make or break for the reader to decide whether or not they wish to stick with it. Publish that much, serialized, in small scheduled chunks.

You now have a fire lit under your ass. The only thing that outmatches my desire to procrastinate is my desire to please others, and thus I have no choice but to continue my schedule, with only a little leeway and wiggle room allotted by the aforementioned stored up slots so I do not blow my head off. I did not plan out Death and Taxes beforehand, save a vague idea of the premise; it was not even intended to have an overarching story, it was only meant to be an anthology. But by working steadily, making lots of mistakes, and deciding what felt right, I ended up after a year of work with the product you love.

Chapters, pages in a comic, it is all the same; If you want to work, find what is stronger than your procrastination drive, and turn it against yourself.

Structuring:

Every one of my stories begins life as a string of dialogue. No action tags, no [X] said, just dialogue like a script. Talking is, oftentimes, the core of any story. It is also what I, personally, am good at. I stimulate conversations with myself or my dog, try to respond as realistically as I can given what I know about the character, and then fill in the blanks with text afterwards. Dog optional.

This is not ideal for everyone, I understand. My greatest suggestion I can offer is to figure out what you are good at, and do that first. Even if your story looks unformatted, or unfinished, you must keep yourself working. Skip scenes if you wish. Write the parts you want to write, and then get the rest later. But at the end, and this is the most important part, it must not look like you did that. It must look like you are a genius who effortlessly spat out an entire sequence in one afternoon, flowing like a dream, never contradicting itself. A writer is a liar, first and foremost. This is why they are so often thought of as geniuses, when in reality they spent seven hours trying to figure out how to describe a plant.

Pretentious Lingo:

Verily, I agree.

Hateful has been in my Ao3 library for some time. I apologize for my slowness.

As a final note, I must remind you as an author that you must keep reading. Length, medium, and popularity of the work matter not. Read, read, read, and the more you examine the style of other authors, the more you will decide what you want your own to look like. I set out writing every story of mine with an idea of what story I want it to resemble; 'I want this to feel like Kraven's Last Hunt', 'I want this to feel like The Blue Fox', 'I want this to feel like The Odyssey'; whatever. As a storyteller, you must always honor other storytellers. Never forget that.

Also, get a proofreader. Hope this helped. Tell your friends to give me money.

[iviarellereads]

The Murderbot Diaries - Compulsory(1) (Wired Magazine)

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

In which we go back in ti-i-ime.

First published in Wired in 2018, shortly after Exit Strategy, this prequel story is still free to read as it once was... with a note. Today, we cover the original version, and tomorrow, we'll be reading the expanded one that just came out through Subterranean Press for something like $1 as of time of writing, to compare and contrast, and if I remember after part 2 goes up, this text will be edited to a direct link. All aboard!

Murderbot's thought about killing humans since it hacked its governor module, but then it found the entertainment feeds. So, what's the hurry? It can kill them after this series ends.

And honestly, even the humans here think about killing each other. MB hates mines, everything to do with them,(2) but the humans hate mines even more. It predicts a 53% chance of a human-initiated massacre before the contract ends, then witnesses some name calling, and tracks that up a bit.

It's watching episode 44 of Sanctuary Moon while the humans talk about flow rates. One of them, Sekai, says SecUnits creep her out. MB can't argue that: even it doesn't like SecUnits. It doesn't react, though. Nearly all its attention is on its show, to the point that it misses the humans' actions until it hears a yell.

Running its recordings back, Asa knocked Sekai off the platform, seemingly accidentally. It tracks Sekai's fall, which looks painful. Because of where she lands, she's about 90 seconds away from dropping her in the collectors on the way to the incinerator.

You might think that rescuing her would be its job, but no. MB's job is to prevent workers from stealing company property, prevent workers from injuring or killing management, and prevent workers from harming one another. Rescue is up to safety bots.

HubSystem's alert tells it to stay in position. The nearest safety bot for rescue is 200 meters out, and will arrive just in time to retrieve a smoldering lump. Asa is horrified, Elane is sobbing. MB could ignore them, but it likes the human in peril on the show in this episode and doesn't want to watch her die yet, while Sekai is a human it's technically responsible for, and will be really dead sooner.

Having free will after so long under strict controls sometimes make MB do things it doesn't understand.(3) Before it thinks too hard about it, it jumps off the platform, landing next to Sekai. HubSystem tries to fry it via its governor module, but joke's on HubSystem.

MB tells Sekai to clip her harness to it, and as it climbs, it works on hacking HubSystem to show that the rescue was its idea. The supervisors are confused, but it all worked out. Better a fine for almost clogging the collectors than dead.

Elane makes to pull Sekai away, but she comes back and thanks MB. MB worries for a moment that she can see through its visor, and its performance drops 3% at the thought. Asa tells her SecUnits can't talk, but she says no, she heard it.

Back at my guard station, I started the episode again. Maybe somebody would save the colony solicitor’s bodyguard too.(4)

=====

(1) How do we think the title relates to the content? The novellas, so far, have been fairly straightforward. All Systems Red, like a classic red alert, everything is not good. Artificial Condition, a state that is made up and thus conditional and dependent on perception rather than reality, like the fear Tapan felt. Rogue Protocol, going rogue, or seeming to. Exit Strategy, needing to find the exit with Mensah. Compulsory, I think, is a fascinating turnabout on that, because it's not an obvious one to me. I think it calls back to the perceived dichotomy between its assigned behaviour (stay in place) and what it feels driven to do (save the human). It feels compelled to move, even though not-helping is literally the compulsory/assigned action. (2) How much do you think it remembered about the incident, when this is set? (3) I think it's only just starting to understand its impulses to help during the novellas, myself. (4) Do you think this was the first time Murderbot wanted to save a human consciously? Or, perhaps, the first time it started processing and learning good behaviour from its serials? Or, do you think this is just an ordinary day for it?

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Hello! Sending some numbers from the end-of-year book ask, I'm not sure of everything you've already answered, so if you'd like to do any or all of these: 4, 5, 12 (especially because you write about reading books with vibes related to your projects), and 17. I hope you feel better!

hiya!! thanks for the ask! referencing this post.

4. If you DNF any books, what was the pettiest reason you put a book down this year?

so one of my toxic reader traits is actually that i DON'T tend to DNF things--i'm very stubborn, and i tend to read fast enough that it doesn't feel like a waste of too much time, AND i usually flip from "Reading to Read" to "Reading to Tear That Shit Apart" (as a writerly exercise, mostly, or for a hate read, which i find cathartic because i am frequently full of rage these days).

one book that is taking me Much Longer Than Anticipated to get through, though, is DAEMON VOICES by Philip Pullman, which i started in....september. a writer friend gifted it to me, and i was pleasantly surprised by the last book she gifted me, so i'm slogging along. but. this man. grates on me. it's mostly his hot takes on religion, so i keep putting him in time out when he conflates shit he has no business conflating. some of his general story thoughts are interesting! but every time he mentions religion, he's on thin ice with me, and he keeps winding up in Time Out About It lol. (also the lectures transcribed to essays format isn't really working for me, pettily.)

5. What's a scene you read this year that sticks with you?

oof okay i LOVE the specificity of this question but it absofuckenlutely made me bluescreen haha.

after staring at my shelves about it for a few minutes (quite a few minutes), i have to confess that MOST of NETWORK EFFECT is imprinted on my grey matter (but that's my second time rereading it, so i don't know if it counts. shout out to "ART sent me" and "you little idiot," especially).

for things new to me this year: the last scene of ROADSIDE PICNIC by the Strugatskys has apparently ALSO imprinted on my brain (unexpected), and mumu's delightful narration in WALKING PRACTICE by Dolki Min has great sticking power (there's some VERY cool text formatting going on there that feeds into the voice, which i loved!).

12. Did any book inspire you to create?

first off, it made my whole week that you mentioned the reading/writing/vibes thing, i feel seen and known, thank you!!

second off: WALKING PRACTICE gave me excellent writing-related vibes and inspiration for my weird little monster child book, and i loved the cool formatting/voice things it did. (it definitely comes with content warnings, though, for things like graphic on-page sex and body horror and eating people (frequently all three of those together/concurrent), so proceed with caution if that's not your jam!)

the SKYBOUND SAGA also inspired ~creation~ for me, from the opposite direction: very much a "damn, if this can get published, mine can too, let's gooo" type of inspiration. (i am a spite-fueled being, sometimes.)

17. A book you reread this year. Did it hold up to how you remembered it?

oh! i did actually quite a bit of rereading toward the end of the year!! i reread ARTIFICIAL CONDITION and NETWORK EFFECT in preparation for SYSTEM COLLAPSE, and those absolutely held up--ART and murderbot are my beloveds, and i stayed up way past my bedtime for like a week in a row (even though i have reread both of those at least once before, so hypothetically i know what's coming and i could put them down any damn time)(reader, i cannot).

my other rereads were VICIOUS and VENGEFUL by VE Schwab. VICIOUS held up perfectly, too--i've reread it before, and this time i did it specifically to dissect her timelines, and it's just a masterpiece of tension and pacing and history and reveals.

VENGEFUL, on the other hand, was Fine™. i don't hate it, but i don't love it--i could set that one down easier (which was good for my aforementioned bedtimes), and dissecting it wasn't as helpful of an exercise. don't get me wrong, i love victor and mitch and syd, and i enjoyed eli's backstory, but. it wasn't VICIOUS.

thanks again for asking!!

[empress-of-the-other-world]

𝑴𝒀 𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑨𝑳 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑾

My portrayal of Queen Maeve is canon until after S3, that's where things start to become even more difficult for her. She reluctantly becomes a supe once more, but will this time be different for her? Can she finally be happy?

For a long while Maeve is under the impression that she'd finally got away from the hell that came with being a Supe. Now she's only human, she's ready to settle down on the other side of the country on a little farm in Modesto, she's even ready to let herself truly be loved by Elena, or so she thinks...

She hasn't thought about any of the supe shit after she escaped New York city, until one evening she gets a text from Annie. Annie has gone to Maeve looking for some advice as it turns out Butcher doesn't have long to live because the Temp V he was taking turned his brain into mush and she's concerned about what it's done to Hughie. It's a shock to everyone, but the only real reason Annie needs advice is because she doesn't really feel like she's any use to Hughie. Whilst she's focused on him, he's focused on Butcher and not really caring about his own health. He doesn't want to listen to her and will dodge talking about himself in all this or even getting help. Annie doesn't know what to do.

Taking the news in is difficult for Maeve, she thought she'd put all that behind her. But knowing that she'll be the reason for their deaths doesn't sit right with her, especially when it comes to Butcher... She already thinks of herself as a monster because of all the things she has done and has been made to do in the past, but she never thought she would be the sole reason people have died. All she's ever wanted to do from the start is save people, not help them in their path to their end...

But all of this is a lot more than just the guilt and regret though... She'd never admit it, but maybe there was always a little more to her and Butcher's relationship? They both thought of themselves as monsters, truly hated their own existences, hated Supes, and were willing to do no matter what to take down Homelander... Even if it would kill them. They had some sort of deep understanding during the night they got together.

And these feelings only complicate things for her immensely. Maggie is supposed to have finally gotten out, she's no longer a Supe and she's now with Elena, whom of which she'd fought long and hard for to be with. But she already went and fucked that up long before Elena and her moved away, Elena doesn't know about what happened between her and Butcher yet, and Maeve hopes she'll never know.

But one early morning, Maeve is suddenly impulsive. Without a word, she took a long, grueling journey travelling back to New York city. All this longing and guilt that has built up over time until it got to be too much. And thanks to Annie telling her about when Butcher and Hughie's check up at the hospital was, the hospital would be where she was heading.

During the journey, she thought hard about the things she would say, but once she walks through those doors and sees Butcher there, she suddenly doesn't know what to say at all.

I am currently writing a short fic on this little storyline of mine, so as soon as that is finished and published, I shall link it on here.

[orphicpoieses]

The orphic blog

Hey and welcome to another episode of the orphic blog, where I ramble about anything and everything that's on my mind. If you like what you see, consider subscribing to my tag list because I cannot tell you when the next post will happen. 🙂

As many of you may have noticed: my native language is not English. It is German.

And maybe you have noticed that I have an Instagram-Account, where I post stuff irregularly.

Yes, I know, most people on Tumblr don't care for Instagram (legit), but I do, especially with my current Account. And since Instagram isn't much of a text-based platform, I will post my blog about this here, simply hoping people will read and understand.

For a little background:

I started Instagram on a regular basis in March 2018, where I joined the German Bookstagram Community. Blogging about books was always a hobby of mine, but I never wanted to be a professional blogger for publishers. I never wanted to have the pressure of having a deadline reading a book and writing an article. Reading was just an hobby and I don't want to make it a job.

But as it is with any niche within any social media app: People are very passionate about creating fancy stuff. In Germany we have a saying: "Höher, schneller, weiter." Higher, faster, farer.

See, I don't have that neat white rug or that perfect floor or bed, to take fancy photographs of these perfectly created bookish scenes. My lighting is bad and my photos don't look very professional. The effort I put into creating photos like this

it never really found an audience and I quit Instagram for a very long time. I simply hadn't the energy to create stunning photos every weekend, where I had to take all I wanted to photograph either outside or in another room, just that the lighting was decent.

After a while, around Summer 2021, I wanted to start a new Account, where the focus was on me and my person, rather than books and the perfect light. I started posting in English (because I wanted to international), talking about self-care, my life and writing. But soon enough, things got difficult again:

I felt like I am only copying the style from other people, Influencers I look up to. Like trying to be a person I am not.

And again, my account got quiet, just posting the photos I really thought about, mostly without a caption, because I don't know what to say.

Since the start of my new semester at Uni, I've met many people with social media accounts, running either full Instagram or even a YouTube Channel. Posting Insta-Stories isn't anything unusual anymore, since everyone does that. I feel like it is accepted that you host an account somewhere on the internet (maybe that's just the Computer Science department's mentality).

Now, that I am back at a community where shooting videos and creating content is more "normal", I kinda feel the urge to create again. But not only am I kinda lost in this space, I also don’t know which language I should use. I read and write in German, my native language. But I feel more comfortable talking in English. So, for video content, I would say English is my go to, but maybe creating stuff again in German will attract the right people since my work is down in German…? What are your opinions on that? (desperate for your advice here! Not kidding!)

But, as already mentioned: I still don't have the best base to create photos at home and I am not that outgoing that I could take photos every weekend on some trip somewhere (even though I would love to do so!).

I already figured that creating a story is sometimes easier than creating a post, but still I don't know what to talk about on a regular basis. Like, my life isn't that interesting? I don't live in a fancy town. I don't go partying all weekend. I don't have friends to do funny stuff with.

I am just a normal girl, living a boring life in a town, where nothing happens. I write fantasy stories and work for uni all day. There isn't much to say about me. I am not interesting.

But maybe that's exactly what's interesting, I don't know.

Maybe, I just start and trust the process.

Done is better than perfect.

I always tell other people to just start and it'll work out in the end, but I never trust myself and the challenges that I have to face. I doubt myself, especially in the creative, outgoing part. I am great at doing stuff privately, but I cannot stay open and out-and-about with stuff. I tend to back away from yelling into the world, that I am here.

I reach for the stars, while pushing the sky further away.

Having an aesthetic eye is nice, but it can drag you down in stuff like that. Wishing for the perfect photo will not help me create a post. Wanting to photograph something does and sometimes, if you look closely enough, you will realise that even the 3.5 million subscriber accounts once started with crooked photos and wanky cameras.

I need to remind myself of that. And posting that one reel that is in my opinion absolutely horrible was one step in that direction.

We live in a world, where one cannot speak freely without having to be afraid of people getting wildly mad at them because they like something, they don't like or say something they don't like.

We live in a world, where the intelligent have to dumb themselves down, so that the dumb won't feel harassed.

And as someone, who is a people pleaser, I am deadly afraid of creating a mob out there, may it be on Instagram or Tumblr, because my world view might be a little different.

In the end, I don't know if I every gain many followers, many people who want to listen to my words. Normally, people don't do. And that's okay, even if it is a little discouraging for me to see people visit my blogs, have a look and then vanish again, never to be seen again.

I want to talk about what fuels me: writing, computer science, communities, coziness and slow living.

But I don't know how.

I don't know how on neither Instagram, nor Tumblr.

And that's also why I am on a semi-hiatus at the moment. Because I feel lost in this community, where I want to participate, want to create, but feel like in a glass box, able to look outside, but no one can come in.

If you have come this far, please leave a message in the comments or reblog this and let me know what you think about the bubble every person on the internet sits in.

What are your go to methods to drag you out of a slump on any social media app? When you don't know what to create? Even though you have a full list of ideas?

[tulipq]

This year, I went from mostly feeling like an Amy style sufferer, to a Carol style sufferer.

No, I don't really think that is much of an improvement, more of a lateral.

Anyway, I wrote a fic that is a very Dallon Pelham Christmas. It's insanely fucked up, and contains religion more than you might expect, and it is still being drafted, but I figured it might be worth sharing.

No, seriously, lots of family being horrible, religious madness, improper quotation of Torah, child sexual abuse by a relative, and shit in this. I try to be up front about it in the text, but this needs like 5 kinds of sensitivity read before I can publish it without a huge disclaimer, and part of it is that it disclaims itself!

Accusations have been leveled against this story of being just like every other fanfic. I cannot deny that this story does have some tropes and ideas in come with other works in this space. I will not resent being shown the truth, but I will deny that this is a problem.

How would you greet a miracle? If it was like nothing you had ever seen before, would you know it for what it was? Have you seen the faces of children on Christmas morning? They rise hours before the winter sun ignites. They believe in dreams and all they mean, including heaven's generosity. They peak around the door to see what parsels offer glee and generosity. But Tommy doesn't….

Okay so I guess my taste in music is getting pretty obvious. Hit me up if you got recs.

Oh hey you know what Tommy does have? "Fiddle About", a song about familial rape.

Yeah, yeah. This is getting into the fucked up corners of this space. Entering the Amy zone. The song "Family Tree" off Youthanasia is also pretty hard for me to listen to. The idea of repression is a bit of a nightmare, but it does also seem like it does a good job of getting into the headspace I need to move through this.

I just have to swallow my feelings that anything I do here is wrong, and keep them held down with all the force of my esophagus. If that goes slack though, I might vomit up all the evils of humanity.

Anyway, it is December as I write this, so I am in a Christmas mood.

This has always been a story about greeting a miracle.

Let me show you how much I love you

The New Wave are doing a publicity stunt in a fucking mall. I hate malls so much, I hate mall Santas, and this freckly one doesn't even seem like he's got a sack or staff under those pants. He looks like he's the ugly orphan of the family, face covered covered in dark stains that are just small enough to let you know that she's, I mean maybe he's trans but doesn't seem like the costume was her idea now that I watch some more.

The huge blondes are all dressed as the merry elves of the village. All of them in greens and whites and with bells on their hats and boots. It's like Tolkien's elves decided to do a Christmas village. They even have ears on and tucked into their hats, like it is something they are trying to hide from the public. Disgusting.

Oh but Miss Claus is special. She's big like her daddie, and pretty as a picture with that aura that encourages you to see her as important, to believe what she wants you to believe. THAT'S MINE BITCH. I want to say to her, but I hover next to this skylight and watch. It's sleeting up here and I am fucking cold, but I need more data before I move in.

I am wearing my favorite outfit because today is a powerful day. My first shirt is an olive green graphic T-Shirt with Urahara Kisuke from Bleach on it. The thing is so oversized that his feet are poking out from under my sweet ass 90s patchwork looking grunge and puink vibes hoodie. This thing has so many colors and stars and suns inked into it. I sewed bells to it all over so it would be more attention getting and then stuffed a few into the hood. Between them is a black button down shirt with these amazing rich pink, yes it is not red it is a rich pink, stripes and a felt pattern that I just realized is a kind of heart. I have the zipper pulled down so my heart is visible on my chest, because it seems right. My pants are labeled with the brand of True Religion, and they are so comfortable that I don't even mind that boast. The shoes are this pair of dirt cheap things from Old Navy, but I have abused my feet for years and used duct tape to reinforce them, so they are immensely comfortable.

Is the aura her power? It doesn't fit in with the rest. Her flight fits with her aunt and cousins. Her strength is her father's. Her defenses are her mother's. What is that aura? Why is it making it hard for me to convince people of the things I want them to believe?

I lace my pinky, ring, and middle fingers, left pinky is the . I point to the sky with my index fingers. I point my thumbs at my ears. This creates a conduit to hear the sounds of heaven. I move the other end of my conduit to hover just behind Mr Claus behind and to her left. What do you hear?

"I want a you to kiss Lady Christmas!" Says a small child who seems to want this more than anything.

"Oh, well, uh. I can't be. I mean. She needs to-" Says Amy Dallon, who seems to want this more than anything but cannot admit it due to deep seated traumas.

"Oh my goodness, Nike,. I will give you a gift, and you may simply give it back when you have triumphed in your duties. For are we not each other's mirror?" Says Victoria, like a wise goddess who could out do Alexander before the knot.

Her aura of majesty is causing Santa's pants to darken and warm under the coat ever so slightly.

"Santa, did you just pee? You are supposed to do that in the bathroom! Miss Claus can't kiss you if you are stinky." The small girl sniffs, "You smell like mommy's toys, do you make those?" The elves turn to look at Santa with the most perplexed and disgusted faces. I could have told them it was not pee, but I like to believe Carol is smart enough to figure that one out.

Okay, that is enough of that. I hate being made to believe in Santa. And this bitch with the aura is saying stuff that makes me wanna kill everyone who heard it.

"It's our secret, you and me!"

I shout as loud as I can as spread my index and middle fingers from each other on both hands. I bring the tips of my middle fingers together while gazing down at the skylight. I feel the crystalline tensions within the glass. I learn the whole history of this pane of glass, from when it took solid form to now, from the subtle tensions I can feel between my fingers pressed together. Every intermolecular bond is in the connection of my two fingers. My thumb is tucked under the other fingers. The pink and ring are curled back in deference. But the indexes are proud and trying to reach each other. I flick my wrist on my worldly opposite hand, and thus touch the glass to my left hand's index finger.

This movement releases the tension between every segment of glass in the skylight that spans the entire length of this fifty meter long concourse's roof. Hundreds of square meters of glass fall towards me as drops of rain. They are bound to my will. So I bid some of them to protect me, and they do.

Then I bid that they defeat my enemies, and they do. The other members of the New Wave, the elves, less the one with purple hair who I guess doesn't have super powers yet or he just doesn't want to fuck up again, kill a half dozen people each before they realize I purified my servants of all weaknesses. The crystalline doubles that have been formed from the fallen glass are able to control their internal refraction like a human controls their thoughts. It is only natural that glass elves can do this.

"You have something of mine." I say to Victoria.

She responds by throwing a flying punch that would go clean through my head if it connected directly. I obstruct this path with my worldly hand, using spikes of glass to cause her defensive field to turn in on itself in order to destroy the disconnected spikes before she can impale her fist on them.

A glass cross flies into her face, branding the sign of the cross inverted into her defenseless face for the glass had taken on a fiery spirit to express the outrageous insult of attacking its master.

And then I punch her in the face really hard. It sends her into a spin.

She just kinda floats there instead of falling unconscious like you would expect.

Rotating like a chicken on the spit.

"I gave you a bunch of brain damage just now. This is fair because your aura is fucking with my head right now." I force out as I try to fight through the strange feelings of beauty there is in a body draped gracefully in the air. She must be using the aura to try to bend my will into not destroying her. "This makes it so your abilities can be changed if you truly will it. Can you control yourself any?"

"Not… no. Pain. Have not."

I see. She's an idiot. She has no self control. I hold take her hand that is just limp in the air. The field has returned to it, but I can take that because I can feel it now.

I wrap my glass skin in an armor of light.

"Did you feel that? I changed your power by making it mine. I was able to do this because I connected with you and my will was strong enough to bend your brain's workings. I need you to imagine exchanging your aura for a better version of your forcefield. I have improved your power to make this possible." This is my best bet. If I don't have to personally kill anyone I can keep the cape name The Miracle Kid. The rest of her family will get so much heat for this, but that's not my fault.

"Can't. Dean."

"You're going to die if you can't do it. Believe."

"Can't. Amy."

It is at this time that Santa attacks me from behind with a steel chair, but my armor of light flashes a warning to me, so I dodge perfectly. The chair hits Victoria in the head.

Now, audience, I need to explain how to do a chair shot. See, you are supposed to hit a dude on the back with the steel or aluminium folding chair using its flattest part. It makes a HUGE sound and does actually hurt some, and the sell on the performer is what makes it very convincing. The next way to do it is to hit someone with the seat of the chair on the head. You can also do thrusts aimed to miss with the legs of the chair, or use the cross bar to do a gentle choke.

What you should never do, is hit someone on back of the head with the frame of the chair. Because you might dent a skull into their head that starts bleeding.

"Oh. That's gotta hurt." I say, impressed that she survived and still has the aura going even with that much brain damage. Actually, only the second thing is why I am impressed by that. I would normally be cringing in pain, but you might recall that have been trying to swallow my feelings. Maybe she can't turn it off?

When you hear them saying "Trust me" Don't wait to see what's next

There is another miracle in the world. I turn to face where it has ended up and see that it is Santa who bears this parsol.

This second sun in the sky.

She has taken off the beard and hat.

This is not a great time to be me. I don't know what the fuck she is doing, but my armor of light is flashing death in every direction. The only weakness my current defenses have is that I have to breath to talk. Oh, side bar, I stopped breathing for reasons other than talking shortly after I got powers. Like with noctis capes, parahumans can find ways to manage the effects of breathing without having to take in things from the world around them.

But I must greet this miracle.

I inhale.

I realize I will not be able to leave if she does not want me to.

"Your power is a virus but one you have fantastic control over. You produce it constantly and naturally. You were born HIV positive. Your uncle raped you when you tried to learn from him how to love a woman, and this killed your aunt because she was suddenly horribly sick all the time while trying to be a hero. You are Pandora, and this is you Pithos."

"You talk too fucking much for someone who is going to die as soon as you are more than arms reach from Victoria. I am setting it so you will die more and more horribly. You can die now to save yourself from hell."

Oh she thinks I might not be heading for hell anyway. That's so wonderful. What a blessing.

Tygers eat their young, and she's no Lamb.

But she fucked up.

"You told me the honest thing of how this virus is rigged up. You have to be infected yourself in order to infect others. You do not have to tell me the actual conditions you set that would kill someone, but you did because you were figuring out what you had actually done. You need me dead fast. Why?"

She says nothing simply walks over to her sister and gently starts to push her towards the big chair. You know, I should have been paying more attention, she had bolted up from that thing, ran to get a chair, and snuck up behind me all while I was yapping. Fucking amazing. I double check that my glass elves are winning and they are. Even Eric is being kept out of a clear line of sight of this in case he decides to make this a really special day. I mean, I should have worn a pure white gown to greet the miracle if I wanted this to happen, but I didn't.

Believe me!

Oh fuck, she is still using the aura? That means you won't buy this. Shit.

Well, I follow and stand behind the chair on the opposite side. The channel I had opened is still on the left and I do not want to end up in it. I think I can maybe convince Pandora to contact the channel, but I am not sure if that will help me.

These things are always so unpredictable once I stop controlling them consciously.

Oh, she's trying to figure out how to fix her sister's brain damage using her power. Too bad triggers don't tend to directly solve your problems like that. Healing powers usually only come from things like clinging desperately to someone who is totally unharmed and wishing them fixed. You can heal their bodies only as much as they believe you can. I could only ever change the brains of my parents to let them be the monsters they always wanted to be on the inside. Doubt might be my power's greatest weakness, but I still doubt she is going to figure this out.

"It will be as hellfire now."

"I am confident that is bullshit." I realize she can't keep the virus lethal if you are away from Victoria and make it able to heal brains. I can just wait for her to heal her sister and I will get out of the trap. This is a battle of wills, and I have been using mine to command the world far longer than her.

Why is this taking so long. Is she actually more interested in punishing what she sees to be evil than saving her sister? Does she blame me for her adoptive family becoming murderers around her? Does she blame me for her caving in her sister's skull? I ask her these things. I ask her every horrible question I can think of. She has to let go. She has to let me go. She has to let up. She can't seriously want me to suffer this must. How can this be? How can the mother of a miracle like this be so awesomely full of wrath? Is she a god too? Is she something beyond even me?

לֹ֣א תַֽעֲשֶׂה־לְּךָ֣ פֶ֣סֶל | וְכָל־תְּמוּנָ֡ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר בַּשָּׁמַ֣יִם | מִמַּ֡עַל וַֽאֲשֶׁר֩ בָּאָ֨רֶץ מִתַּ֜חַת וַֽאֲשֶׁ֣ר בַּמַּ֣יִם | מִתַּ֣חַת לָאָ֗רֶץ:

Of course.

She has a weakness.

I allow my glass skin to wrap itself around her goddess.

She cannot be a god, she has a goddess that she falls before.

She is not a god but a motherly figure who has never known what it is to be loved as herself and not as a sister.

"I will tear asunder your unliving idol unless you give your all to revive her now."

"I shall just make a virus that reverses all you have done. Even your name will be lost."

Shit. She was ignoring my taunts and just invented several new techniques. She might figure out that she can if her sister is dead then she can make the virus able to kill everyone she hates, because she does hate her sister for being so fuckable and yet so unavailable, like she has a hereditary hatred of women but actually this is just a small resentment that never guides her to enact but only to inact.

Oh no. I have the aura back. I can say anything and you will just accept it.

I have only one last hope. One miracle cannot beget another so directly. I carefully slide needles of glass into her brain. I guide silicon molecules through the channels of the cells that connect her to her power. I put my fingers together as I had on the roof, but now the left hand is facing upwards.

"If I die, it will tear apart her potenia and gemma."

"And? I shall simply remake them in time."

"You cannot. They are the creation of a miracle."

"So they say. But I have my doubts." Ouch. She's been in this kind of aura for so long that she can fight even the most intense

"But eggs can be fertilized in a lab and one womb is like another. Do you know how powers are given?"

Her brow furrows. She knows the general idea, but the specifics are impossible for her to see. She commands, but she does not see.

"You are fucking with my head."

"Good catch. I guess you know what it feels like."

I can't append an insult about Lightstar's lightsaber because the Walt Disney Company might force my higher self to permit police boxes full of copywrong psychokillers into this scene. You'll have to risk an intrusion yourself if you want that image.

She isn't talking more. She is feeling for something she can command that will kill me horribly but not hurt her most precious dear. But she knows her thought process is being tampered with. There is now a risk that any move she commits to is one I have sought for her to make. The red of her suit was hiding how much blood was seeping from that head wound, but now the white trim is soaking it up as well. She is crying as she feel the dark stains reach her skin.

"Do you know everything about her? Can you put it all back together? You know the brain is a complex system. You know that when a person is warm and dead the brain's cells denature. You-"

"STOP. STOP. STOP."

"You know she has stopped bleeding because she is out of blood, right?"

"If she's died, we would both be dead. So that is wrong."

What?

Oh no. Oh no. Her idea of Victoria is some kind of spirit or ghost, not a body with a working brain? I did not account for this. I forgot to study how the displace piece orphan who the New Wave found before unveiling themselves to be a gang of aryan ubermenschen that won't even act ashamed of their hate for minorities. Instead Carol points proudly to her "non-white passing" daughter and their "statistically driven patrol patterns" to explain why Purity and Lady Photon are teaming up so much.

"Look, I am Kid Miracle."

"Shit name."

"Fine," what's my second option? "call me Feb then."

"What is that short for?" Oh, she's disassociating due to the horror of realising she might have to either accept that she is putting herself into a hell of her own making or otherwise let me live. AND SHE STILL ISN'T LETTING ME LEAVE?!

"Februum, it means to purify. If you want, I can guide your power so you can fully heal her brain. I can shape the glass to lead your power to each damaged cell. We can do this."

"No."

"DO YOU LOVE HER, OR DO YOU JUST WANT TO FUCK A MEAT PUPPET SHAPED LIKE HER?!" I shout out of sheer built up resentment. Wait, didn't I promise not to let such a thing past my lips? Does that mean my resolve just broke?

Welcome to the camp I guess you all know, why we're here

Another one.

Was she close enough to her gate's opening that she could manage a to pull a second one through? She had way more data on my power and how it works, and that conduit has been open the whole… oh.

I broke a vow before heaven. Thus a vow may be relaxed as punishment.

I feel a hand upon my hands interconnected.

I am as stone for all time from then evermore. She did not kill me. She does not want anything she is holding to die.

I feel it begin. My neurons have turned against me. They grow extrude out from my skull like branches from a tree. They collect the rain and sunlight so they might crowd out my own withering domain. They gather to torture me, to make me feel and forget and feel again every form of pain I could imagine.

I think I die, only to be reborn into a new world, live a whole life, end up here, and suffer in new ways. I do this a million million times for each rain drop my new crown of fools catches. The prongs of the crown are as the rainbow, a sign for all ages of folly and mercy.

The Panacea takes the red blood of the goddess and from it makes that which will produce life in a corpse.

She knits makes her idol believe be true.

This vessel is broken. I must depart it.

Can you name me?

[rbtomeat]

SETTING UP A TAGGING SYSTEM.

probably the biggest thing is having a good, easy set of tags on this site honestly 😭 id keep them probably as simple as you can as youre starting out, just to make things easy and to decrease the likelihood of tumblr breaking them later on ( if you were to include things like fancy text or symbols, etc )

typically, people use the following Terms for their tags :

visage, mirror, vanity, face, etc : to use for visual representations & faceclaims of the character! style, closet, fashion, etc : if you'd like to post about what they'd wear! aesthetics : general photos / gifsets / etc that you feel fits sonnys vibes!! :D musings / study : for all the fun, angsty, silly, loving types of posts that you think fit his personality! his behaviors! all that fun stuff! anything you feel falls under your vision for his portrayal <3 answered / thread : for any in-character writing / replies between you & a writing partner! typically from things sent in thru the inbox for answered, and then back-and-forth writing for threads. drabble / headcanon : a post where you just go in and YAP about them! can be about anything, however long or short dont matter! its just all those sweet lil tidbits about sonny you wanna share with everyone! :D ooc : a tag for yourself when you're posting something out of character or replying to something ooc! like how mine is [ renee - the yappening. ] !! queue : dont need a tag for this right away but, you could down the line set up a queue system to auto-post things for you when youre away from the screen!

and there several others that can eventually be added down the line, such as relation tags for writing partners' muses once dynamics get really developed! ^_^

TAG FORMATTING.

i'd very heavily suggest keeping the tag format you choose to go with simple & easy to remember & type out! at least until you're more used to the tag system on tumby and are ready for them to potentially break if they get too complicated!

so! you can keep them strictly to just those terms directly - though that means ofc your posts would pop up in those tags across tumblr overall i fear.

so you could try simply layouts like:

( aes. ) / sonny w. | sonny w. / aes. | * ( aesthetics. )

things like that, just as some examples! and interchange the terms as you make them ( ie switching out aesthetic with musings, then with visage, etcetc! ).

i would refrain, personally, from writing out his full name in the tags ONLY because that could make your posts more visible to general fandom searches. i have alot of ( unfortunate ) experience on that end when i talk about luda mae & thomas hewitt. so, i would try to keep them basic and easy for you to remember & type out in the just case tumblr hiccups at all and messes them up if you were to add anything fancy to them! (:

but you can still mess around layout-wise for your tags if you wanna try making them a little more creative! ^_^ just if you DO use fancy text, i'd advice keeping the rp terms as normal text if anything bc tumblr tags dont recognize fancy text as actual text and it wont properly save them!

SETTING UP TAGS POSTS :

once you ave an idea of how you wanna format your tags, its time to make a post to list them all in & publish so tumby will save them!

so you can set up your tags within a new post itself like the below, that way you just have to copy/paste them into the tag bubbles on the bottom! (: using the below format as an example.

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and then just one by one copy-paste into the bubble, press Enter,

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and after Enter, the bubbles will look like the below when youre good to paste the next one!

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till you've got them all separate and in each bubble like below! tumblr will Only Save up to 20 i believe in a single post! so any tags above 20 would have to go into a new tag dump post! (:

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once theyre all set, checked over for any mistakes/etc ( highly recommend jic theres any bc you Can Not fix or edit them once theyre published! ), you would click Post ( blue button on bottom left ofc ) and your tag dump will look like the below when published! :D

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and from there when you want to tag a new post / reblog with a specific tag, once the tags are saved as the post is published ( may take a bit of time to register & need a page Refresh too most likely! ) then once you start typing it into the tag bubble on new posts or reblogs, it'll pop up as the first suggested tag like the Aesthetics one in the second cap below does! (:

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