#i say like they don't rotate through my head like a carousel

[amoreemioo]

honestly? ares loved his career, he really did. he loved his fans, his staff, his family — everyone that played a part in his success would always have a special place in his heart. nothing would ever be able to change that fact. he was pretty sure he owed them all the world, and then some — so of course it hurt to reschedule shows, to disappoint all of those people previously mentioned. and while that place in his heart would always be there, it was nothing compared to seunggi's place in his heart. he would always come first, not to mention in such a delicate time, you know? ares would be there for him in every way possible, he'd make sure things were okay — or as okay as they could be. it would take time, but ares would make time. he'd make sure seunggi knew he had someone in his corner, that someone cared enough to show it, and he would not be persuaded otherwise.

as far as he was concerned the only thing that mattered for the next, what, three months, was the two of them.

and ares wanted to spend that time wisely. he wanted to let seunggi recover physically, mentally — he wanted to make sure he could adjust from being in a rehab, to having his freedom. ares wanted to be there for any temptations that might pop up, he wanted to make sure seunggi knew that he could always be honest about them, too.

but, also?

ares wanted to spend quality time with the man he loved the most in the world. he wanted to make good memories together, he wanted to think about their lives, together. ares wanted to go on trips, and sleep in late. he wanted to hold seunggi's hand in an ice cream parlor. he wanted to fall asleep with his head on the others shoulder on a train. he wanted to have stupid, cheesy dates —

which is why he was dragging said man to the roof top of their paris apartment, unwilling to let go of his hand for a second of the walk.

don't ask when ares had managed to sneak away to set this up — or do, that's fine. he simply took advantage of his fiancé's nap, is all. pillows and blankets (a ton of pillows and blankets in the form of a fort, no less), snacks and drinks (wine and take out), a projector all set up and ready for them to hit play (seunggi's favorite movie, of course). if ares could have dragged their bed up where without waking seunggi, he might have! he supposed an air mattress would have to do. it's been a while since they've had a proper date, and all ares could do was hope this was good enough. no prying eyes, no waiter to interrupt their conversation — and they were literally home! they could go inside and crawl into their bed with a moment's notice.

plus it was just in time for the sunset, too, which — he hadn't totally planned? but it worked, you know? it would be dark enough for their movie in a few minutes, and they got to see the sunset?

"i even asked for a key to make sure we don't get locked up here." it was said with a smile, mostly a joke, as he pulled his fiancé in for a peck to his cheek, and then his lips. it didn't matter that ares had given the other a kiss on the way up, nor that he almost got them tripped up on the stairs going for another kiss. it's been a while! and it didn't matter to him that seunggi had been home for a few days (at least), ares was happy as could be to have him again. and again. and again.

"having you all to myself under the stars was too good to pass up."

@fooleds

[swaps55]

Swaps! Master of povs. Any advice on writing multiple pov-fics? I'm working on a multi chapter fic that would thrive if it was written in multi povs, alas, that's hard and I don't know where to start. Any thoughts about the process, or any chance you have already answered such an ask before and can link me that? (as always: love your writing. It's gold. Thank you for letting us be part of your journey.)

Oh, yesssssss, I live for multiple POVs! Thank you for the kind words!

Now, keep in mind, I wheel and deal in multiple POVs. For me there is no such thing as too many, which I am sure a lot of others would disagree with, and I don’t think you see it used and abused in published work the way I do it. But hey, I’m writing for free, and my fic in particular is predicated on the idea that every POV is on the table except for the main character, and I will use whatever POV I need to center the one POV I can’t have.

What a lot of sensible people will do is settle on a fixed number of POVs, say, 2-4, they’re willing to rotate through and try and distribute them somewhat equally. The Expanse series does this, for example. So one way to do it is to think about the story you want to tell and select your POV carousel based on who you think you will get the most mileage out of. If you have a story taking place in different locations simultaneously, you probably need a POV character for each. If you are looking at two different sides to the same story, you probably need POVs that are antagonistic to each other.

Or you can be like me and use whatever POV seems most useful at the time, no matter how many it winds up being in the end.

With the caveat that rules are made to be broken, and I am writing this as more of a peek into what I do vs a treatise on the right and wrong ways to do it, this is a breakdown of some of the exercises I work through when choosing and working in multiple POVs.

Be thoughtful about whose POV you want and why. One of the benefits of multiple POVs is that you can get wildly different perspectives on the same series of events. Different characters see the world differently. They notice different things. They interact with their world differently. These are things you can use to your advantage, and act as tools to tell your story. One of my favorite things to do is use the POV of a character who absolutely would not clock the important takeaway I’m after in a scene, but the things they notice and observe make the reader able to clock it. What that character experiences might be very different from what the reader experiences. I’ll often ask myself, ‘what does this character give me that another character wouldn’t in this scene, and why is that important?’

Spend time sitting between the ears of your chosen POV character to get a feel for how they see the world. I usually wind up marinating in a character’s head for a while before I dive into their POV for the first time. What state of mind are they in when we meet them? What’s important to them? What are they thinking about? What drives them? How can you use those drivers to connect back to your central narrative? You'll see a character you think you already know in a whole different light if you spend the time you need to really think about these questions, how to answer them, and what that means for the story. You’ll be really glad you did it.

Treat the POV character as the hero of their own story. One of the struggles and rewards of working in multiple POVs, especially POVs who are not a main character, is that those POVs have to work on two levels: they have to further the plot/character arcs of the main characters while honoring the motivations and goals of the POV character. It can be really difficult to find the right way to line both these things up, but it’s worth doing. If you just write a POV character in service of the main character/plot, it falls flat. (This is honestly true of any character, POV character or not, but for the sake of this post we’re focused on POV.) I’ve done a lot of agonizing over how to center a POV’s character’s own narrative within a larger context. Your character doesn’t know they are in a story. They don’t know they aren’t necessarily the main character. That’s where multiple POVs can really shine: by letting that character have their own agency within a bigger narrative, you can add a lot of depth.  

Make your POV shifts clear and easy to follow. This can mean sticking to a single POV per chapter, or using a clear scene break if you’re switching within a chapter. Establish your new POV as quickly as possible so your reader doesn’t get lost or confused. I could go into a whole other discussion about head hopping and multiple POVs vs. omniscient POV, but that’s getting off track.

Have fun and be creative! If you’re wheeling and dealing like I am, sometimes POVs you never would have considered otherwise can offer you a totally new perspective. My “No Main Character POV Rule” led me to try the POV of a character I never would have otherwise tried, and it has dramatically shaped the story in some really powerful ways. Don’t be afraid to try something off the beaten path!

I hope any of that helps. I love multiple POVs. The kaleidoscope of perspectives it offers is such a fantastic tool that I really love using, and I hope you have a lot of fun with it!!!!!!

[dravidssideblog]

"Why not?!"

"I'm not putting you in the fucking washing machine, I don't see why I need to explain that!"

"Well since you're refusing to hand-wash me-"

"I'm BUSY!"

"Then just put me in the washer!"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"I don't need to breathe and I can't feel pain. What's the worst that could happen?"

My roommate stares down at me a moment, then picks me up. I feel a tug on my hip; they're reading my tag. "Huh. 'Washer and dryer safe.'"

"Exactly, see? I was literally made for this, I'll be fine."

"Okay, fine." They press the 'delicate' setting, and the timer displays 30 minutes. "Are you sure about this? Because I'm not gonna wait around to pull you out if you change your mind."

"Yes, I'm sure."

They sigh and shake their head. "Alright."

They drop me into the machine on top of the rest of the load, meeting my gaze one last time. I give them a nod, and they shut the top, plunging me into darkness. The machine starts whirring and water begins filling it up.

"Last chance to change your mind," they say over the noise.

"Didn't you say you're busy? Go work, let me enjoy my bath in peace!"

"Alright then."

Just as I hear the door shut, the water reaches my feet. I lie down on top of the laundry, letting the water climb up my body, covering my faux fur, soaking into my stuffing, making me feel so much heavier. It feels so strange, being filled with more than just stuffing. The machine fills all the way up, and I float to the top along with the clothes.

Then, the water stops, and the movement starts. That pillar in the center, the agitator, twists back and forth, sloshing around the water. The sloshing water pushes me around, rocks me back and forth, bobs me up and down. Despite the agitator's rapid twisting, the sloshing isn't too intense; it reminds me of a bumpy car ride, except lying on layers of floating clothes provides plenty of cushioning. And of course being shaken around is a lot easier without any bones or organs inside me.

Foamy bubbles rise to the surface of the water, splashing my face and soaking into my stuffing. I'm glad my roommate didn't skip the detergent. It covers my body, working out the dirt and dust, making me all fresh and clean. I wish I could say I felt any of that, but all I could really feel were the bubbles sticking to my fur. Lots of bubbles. The longer it goes on the more foamy the water gets, each splash of water leaving more foam on me than it rinses away.

It goes on like that for minutes as I'm tossed about the sloshing water, thoroughly and completely soaked and foamed. In the darkness, it's easy to lose myself in the disorienting sloshing, to let the water shove me around... Until finally the machine goes still. A moment of rest, letting my senses recalibrate.

Then, slowly, the machine begins to turn. It's slight at first, like a carousel ride, but it quickly picks up speed. The water, the laundry, and myself are pushed toward the walls of the drum. The speed holds steady for a while, only gradually speeding up as the water drains out the sides. But it keeps speeding up, pushing us harder, until I can't even push myself away. Then it gets faster. And then even faster.

You know, the phrase "900 RPM" doesn't really mean anything. "Oh yeah, it spins real fast," it's easy to just abstract it away. It's a lot less easy when you're experiencing it. When the rotations stop being noticeable, my sense of balance completely destroyed. It just becomes a pressure, forcing me against a wet sweater that itself is pressed flat against the wall. The rotation drags me along, an endless rightward pull stronger than anything I've ever experienced through either flesh or fabric.

My senses are completely overwhelmed by the force of the spin. I'm glad I don't have a brain, because if I did, it surely would've burst by now. I can't move an inch anymore, all I can do is submit myself to the almighty strength of the spin.

Then it's over. The machine's whirring goes silent, and far too quickly, it slows to a stop. When it finally comes to rest, I fall from my place pressed against the sweater, and the sweater falls down on top of me.

There's a new sound. Running water. It's filling up again. After how thoroughly my mind was turned into a smoothie, I'm not eager to move; even my old fear of drowning fails to stir me. In fact, finding myself sandwiched between the pants underneath me and the sweater atop me, I think this is the perfect position. And so as the water claims my face, I tell myself to relax, to remember that I don't need to breathe, to let the water seep into my body once more.

I'm fully submerged now, floating in a sea of cloth. I feel at home here, one textile among many. Once I manage to hush my urge to breathe, I feel at peace, comfortable in the water and surrounded by softness...

The agitator starts up again, sloshing the water about, and me with it. I bump into clothes as everything gets shaken up and mixed around. It's like a gentle version of what I imagine a mosh pit to be, softness against softness, driven by water instead of music. The messy flow of water pushes against my body and twists me around. I lose myself in the motion once more, letting shirt sleeves drag against me and underwear snag on my head. It's a good thing everything got cleaned before I was buried.

The minutes pass, and the sloshing comes to a stop. I spend another moment in the peaceful sea of cloth before the spinning begins. It pushes us to the walls, speeding up and increasing the pressure. I'm sandwiched between clothes once again. The force presses the clothes against me, squishing me from both sides.

Once the spin gets fast enough I once again lose my senses. It's just force now, squishing and pulling and totally overwhelming me. I never thought I could feel so powerless just by being spun around, but I'm completely stuck, immobile, crushed under an avalanche of cloth that's just as helpless as me. The power of it feels so all-consuming that it becomes my entire world...

For a few minutes.

Then the noise stops, the machine spins down, gravity takes hold of me once again. I hear a muffled beeping through my tomb of fabric. Staying limp, I rest awhile, letting my senses recover once again...

There's noise. Shifting in the cloth. Then something grabs my leg, and I'm pulled, hissing, into the blinding light.

"Hey, don't you hiss at me. Or did you WANT to be stuck in that damp dark box?"

"Yeah, of course I did," is what I try to say. Unfortunately after being sloshed, spun, and soaked for 30 minutes, my ability to speak is more like "hahhh, afffaahh maa na..."

They sigh and flip me around. I guess I was upside-down. They sigh and hug me, my damp body making a wet squish sound. "You dumb cat..."

I'm happy to lie limp in their arms awhile, doing nothing but blinking my eyes as they adjust to the light. When I can finally feel which way is down, I try talking again. "yuhhh... yo- you know, you'd think that without any blood or stuff then you can't get dizzy! but the truth is, you can get soooooo much dizzier without passing out..."

"Are you okay, kitten?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I... I'm okay. Can I go in the dryer now?"

"The- Have you STILL not learned your lesson!?"

"Yeah, I learned that the washer is really fun! But being damp isn't, so... Dryer?"

"You stupid- Yeah, fine, dryer." They set me down and start loading the wet laundry into the dryer. "Didn't think you were such a masochist..."

"Can't be a masochist if you can't feel pain!"

"On the contrary, I think you're managing humanly-impossible levels of masochism."

"Just one more perk to add to the list, then."

They finish tossing in the clothes and turn back to me. "Are you sure? It's gonna be hot in there you know."

"I'm dryer-safe and can't feel pain, I'll be fine."

They sigh and pick me up. "Why'd I even ask..."

"I appreciate the concern!" I say as they toss me into the dryer.

They shut the door, beep some buttons, and the dryer gets right to spinning. It's slower than the washer. Much slower. Instead of the spin forcing me against the walls of the drum, I tumble along at the bottom. The rest of the laundry is tumbling with me, clothes falling on top of me as I fall onto other clothes. It's a mess, everything moving about and crashing into each other, even more intense than the agitator's sloshing. And the weight from the water soaking everything adds to the impacts.

When there's no clothes to cushion my tumble, I fall right onto the hard dryer drum. Fortunately, every impact is a soft impact when you're a plushie, so it's no biggie. Especially when I'm smooshed under a pile of clothes right after. Crash after crash, fabric against stuffing, nonstop impacts, even though it's slower it feels so much more active than the washer's spin! And I think I've had enough of mind-melting speed for one day.

It doesn't take long before I really start to feel the heat. It goes from warm to hot to REALLY hot, like a sauna for textiles. The wet, heavy impacts of the clothes give way to hot slaps and whaps. 130°F if I remember correctly, WAY hotter than should feel comfortable. But while I used to hate heat, turns out it's just that flesh is super picky about temperature. Now heat is just another sensation. And I gotta say, I'm really enjoying this new level of warmth~

The rollercoaster ride goes on and on, much longer than any of the washer's many spin or slosh cycles. I get used to the intensity, the tumbling and tossing and crashing. After all the practice at going with the flow today, the endless tumble of the dryer is a worthy finale.

I just relax and stop being a person. Stop moving, stop thinking, let go of all my old instincts. I play the role of an inanimate toy; limp, unbothered, letting whatever happens happen. But the one thing I keep doing is feeling, experiencing, taking each soft impact, each moment of pressure, all the overwhelming warmth, and enjoying every second of it. I zone out, my mind filled with nothing but ceaseless sensations...

...

... When my thoughts return, I find myself buried in a heap of powerful warmth. I'd always loved piles of warm laundry, fresh out of the dryer. Now I AM the warm laundry. And it feels incredible...

Something pulls away my warmth, and I whine.

"Hey hey, you okay?"

"give it baaaack..."

"What?"

"It's warm, give it back... and shut the door, you're letting the cold air in..."

A sigh. "Yup, you're fine." The heap of warmth dumps back on top of me, and the dryer door slams shut. I've had an intense, exhausting day of bathing. Time for a much-deserved nap...

[barbwillbrb]

I can’t say the same for everyone, but when a hyperfixation gets to the point where I am actively engaging in the fandom, let alone creating for it, it just becomes part of the random braincells floating around in this noggin’ of mine. One braincell might be taking up the center stage at any given time, but the others are there, always lurking. A good example is that while I am posting a ton about BG3 currently, I am working on my first Mass Effect and Magnus Archives OCs, as well as more serious art for those fandoms (in fact the very second the Flesh rears it’s ugly head in TM: Protocol, I am gonna become a DEMON). In other words, I really don't know how to like/engage with things casually, haha.

If I do feel myself start to get a little tired of a current interest, I will simply switch to one of my others/give it a break.

Also, creating original characters/content related to a fandom really helps me cling on tighter to a hyperfixation. I personally take my own OCs and remake them into my favorite fandoms (similarly, I might take some of my favorite characters from my favorite fandoms and try them out in different AUs).

TBH, I only ever dropped two fandoms/fixations:

Harry Potter. I was really into it as a teen and ran online roleplays with my friends about it; plus I had a total crush/obsession on Alan Rickman. Rowling's rising bullshit in the 2010s, my growing interest in literary criticism that made it completely impossible to ignore her text, and Alan Rickman's death killed that one.

Undertale. This one I still like as a story and the game means a lot to me, but parts of the fandom made me feel bad for liking it? I dunno; it's been a while, but I feel there was this idea that if you were an older teen/young adult who enjoyed the story you were a pervert/pedo? I just remember being made to feel like I was bad for liking the game, which fucking sucked because it helped me so much through a really dark time in my life and just wanted to talk about it. I dunno man; I was dealing with undiagnosed OCD at the time and did not need some internet strangers making me feel like shit over pixels.

Basically, tdlr:

Enjoy the hyperfixation as long as it is here, but don't force it if it goes. Ask yourself what drew you to that interest, and find new content to consume (or create your own! I often use hyperfixation burnout to work on my original content/characters!)

While I can't say it works the same for everyone, hyperfixations are like an ever-rotating carousel for me; once a fandom/interest reaches that status with me, it's here to stay. There might be a day where BG3 content takes a small back seat to TMAP or Mass Effect (hell-- we might even see some Hunger Games make a retro pop up), but it will be here to stay...

... unless the creators/artists behind the thing do something super fucked and supporting them would be causing harm.

Additionally, as a whole, fandom spaces need to not be jerks to people or we will lose them (looking at some of you, Astarion and Raphael fans; some of you guys can be kinda mean/telling people their faves are problematic/indicative of some moral failing, which is pretty rich... >___> ). Tumblr for the most part is pretty cool compared to Reddit and X, but we're not perfect here either.

Also on a very final side note: if you find yourself not just losing interest in one hyperfixation but many in addition to other interests, that might be indicative of depression (coming from someone who's just now accepting depression/bipolar might be a thing with me) or external factors causing you stress. A healthy personal life is key to a healthy creative life (which is rich coming from me given half my posts are "why does my body hate meeeeeee" but hey, do as I say not what I do lol) .

anyhoot this is just my personal experiences with fandom; just some thoughts.

Hi. I want to ask you. What about the end of hyperfixation? A character, a game, series, books...I mean, when you arrive at that point where you don't feel enthusiastic about your blorbo or brainrot source.

How do you know you are there? How do you usually feel?  Is another hyperfixation the reason you abandon a fiction world? Is it real life? Has it happened to you? If so, which was the most memorable of these changes?