#its been cathartic to vent about all this

[luxiomahariel]

the discussion around transandrophobia has been the first in a very long time that ive actually felt like part of the queer community ngl

[shima-draws]

Well since the Mochi Mayhem DLC out. How did that go when it came to the Kieran Orgepon AU. Heck what about Indigo Disk since things are bound to go differently there?

HONESTLY probably not that different from canon except Kieran teams up with Juliana to absolutely whoop Pecharunt's ass LMAO

Originally I thought that the Lousy Three had been manipulated into working under Pecharunt (I mean they still kinda were? Technically?) but then I read up on their lore and realized that Pecharunt basically took their desires and made them a reality, so it was more of an even trade than anything. The trio got to power up and achieved what was previously impossible for them, and Pecharunt got their loyalty and could command them as it wished. Part of me wanted an arc where after defeating them they are released from Pecharunt's control and could then apologize and reconcile with Ogerpon, but I really think they did a lot of what they did out of free will. So they're still assholes lol

Anyway as for Mochi Mayhem, Kieran would most likely recognize Pecharunt right from the start and would be squaring the HELL up. Pecharunt manages to get a shot at Carmine and flees (like a COWARD!!) so Kieran calls up Juliana and asks her for help. Which starts the impromptu visit to Kitakami with Arven, Penny and Nemona tagging along ;)

Juliana's never seen her friend so angry before so she realizes this is probably smth important. Cue the trauma arc and Kieran revealing Pecharunt had been behind everything regarding his masks and the Lousy Three terrorizing him all those years ago. (He didn't recognize Pecharunt in its dormant form, but once it awakens he sees it and goes !!! >:0)

At first Juliana's a bit hesitant but once she hears what Pecharunt did she's just as angry as Kieran, if not angrier. The Paldea trio are like WHAT is going on rn why are you two so fired up. And then what commences is the most epic beatdown in history. (And is also pretty cathartic for Kieran, too, finally able to vent out all his anger at the mastermind of the whole situation.)

Juliana probably catches it to keep it under control, but as for what they decide to do with it after...who knows. I feel like Pecharunt has always been intentionally malicious, so training it to not be that way would be difficult, not to mention how uncomfortable Kieran would be with the whole situation. Idk it could go either way!

As for the Indigo Disk--hmm. I'll have to think on that one a bit more. It'd definitely be different since Kieran was never a trainer to begin with, so he's not the BB Academy champion. And for conflict, I'll probably ramp up Briar's obsession with Terapagos to make it a bit more spicy, bc I felt that her arc was too underwhelming. Make her the real villain, and make her even more unhinged when she finds out about Kieran >:)

[graysoncritic]

A (Negative) Review of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Conclusion

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

Though it may not appear so given the length of this essay, I did try to be fair to Taylor and Redondo. I focused my criticism on Taylor because my knowledge of written storytelling far exceeds my knowledge of visual storytelling, especially when it comes to sequential art. As such, I did not think it was my place to criticize something that I did not feel entirely comfortable addressing.

As I implied in the introduction, this essay was both an intellectual exercise and a cathartic one. Much of the information in it were reworded discussions I had with other Dick Grayson fans throughout the past couple of years. I must also thank them for allowing me to quote them when appropriate, as none of this would have been possible without their contribution. The essay itself was written in the time span of months, and sometimes I went weeks without even opening the document, only doing so again when a new issue came out and I wanted to vent.

As I worked on this, I was able to articulate a frustration that has been building up inside of me and, I know, many Dick Grayson fans for years. These frustrations are not exclusive to Taylor's writing. Rather, Taylor’s writing is but the most obvious and prominent example of said problem, with new and old symptoms drawing glaring attention to themselves on a monthly basis. The real problem behind all of these grievances and, quite frankly, the hurt Dick Grayson fans feel at the moment is rooted in the fact that DC Comics as a whole seems determined to undermine, if not completely erase, the importance of this amazing character.

There are other ways in which this can be observed. One of the Dick Grayson fans I know has been collecting examples of this erasure that span decades. I, myself, have thoughts on the motivations behind these actions and how they are reflective of a societal dislike for those who are othered, and especially those who challenge patriarchal ideals, the gender binary, and heteronormative culture. 

Perhaps one day I will address those subjects. Or perhaps not. As cathartic as writing this was, I do want to write more about the things I love rather than the things I hate. But I also believe it is important to express dissatisfaction when experienced, to vent when required, and to critique when necessary.

If you stuck around this far, then I do not believe that this needs stating, but just in case, I must assert that I reject any claims that comics should not be analyzed in this much depth. I do not, for a second, believe that comics are above serious criticism simply due to their format or their content. Comics, like every form of storytelling, are worthy of being examined and dissected. They are a part of our culture. They are literature and as such, they deserve to be studied. 

This essay explored Taylor’s current, ongoing run of Nightwing. I believe it proved not only its failure as a good story, but also as a good Nightwing story. Taylor’s superficial characterization, weak plot, and simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, demonstrate that Taylor does not care about Dick Grayson. He does not see Dick as a character worthy of his care and attention. At the very best Taylor lacks the knowledge to understand Dick. At the very best, Taylor has no interest in getting to know him, nor any respect for his predecessors to learn how they handled Dick and incorporating their work into his continuity. At worst, he despises the character so much that he wishes to re-invent him into something different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to bring in a new crowd that never cared about Dick Grayson before he was made palatable to them. 

And that attitude is not isolated to Taylor. It is, I believe, observable throughout much of DC. Not all current writers, editors, and artists are like this, of course, but for years — decades, actually — there have been attempts to erase Dick’s importance to certain characters, to replace him, to downplay his achievements and his uniqueness in order to prop up others, and to water him down until he becomes but a shadow of who he was. Sometimes, it feels like DC is trying to kill Dick Grayson, remove his parts and give to other characters. This character gets his unique relationship with Bruce. This character gets to keep Dick’s relevance to Robin. These characters can have Bludhaven. For how long, I must wonder, do Dick Grayson fans have to put up with this silently? Must we just quietly watch this continue until Dick is all hollowed out and is only a memory living in the hearts of those who love him? 

Because we do love him. We love him for all the special characteristics that made him different, that did not make him into a blank canvas, an every-man hero. I do not hate Taylor personally, but I believe that his clear disinterest in Nightwing is not an isolated case, and that DC, at this moment in time, is unwilling to engage with Dick’s character and his fans. They want a brand new and palatable hero to step into his place, not the long standing bastion who has been around longer than most of DC’s characters. They don’t want Dick Grayson. They do not respect or care for him. And as such, I believe Dick’s fans have a right to be angry and to feel like DC does not care or respect them. 

I do not know how long these attempts at erasing Dick will last. I do not know how long-lasting the effects of Taylor’s run will be. But trends come and go, and Dick has been around for nearly a century. He’s a strong enough character to survive this long, and I believe, despite previous and current attempts, that he will survive this as well.

And as he does, I will be there, cheering him on. 

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 2: My people

Rhoda is sitting in her apartment, near the north facing window of her dining area, leaning on the table there and looking out at the courthouse, with its grandiose modern architecture and its halo of golden brown trees.

She’s thinking about last Thursday when her best friend just got her new name legally recognized, and the emotions that they both felt and shared that day.

She remembers that that was the day she first started revisiting the harder memories she has of her son. Her child. Memories she’d been avoiding for more than a decade. 

It’s been pretty rough since then, and this friend of hers is in the middle of the roughness. She wishes she had more friends. But what she has are countless acquaintances and contacts. People she could work at to become friends with, if she could trust them enough. Or had the energy to try.

Sometimes circumstances choose friendships for you.

And she did get to reminisce and vent all Sunday, and that was cathartic and something she’s been needing for a long time.

But then, the next day, she learned that her friend is something she can barely comprehend.

She knew she was a dragon. And she knew she was raised by white parents, and basically white herself. These were things that Rhoda had chosen to accept and work with for the sake of their growing companionship and mutual support. And that talk on Sunday had been so important to her.

But then Meghan Estragon Draconis goes and says that she’s more immortal than the immortals they both know that have been monkeying with human affairs.

And Rhoda’s brain has gone blank.

She’s seen the magic at work, since that first day. It’s easy to believe in. It’s nigh impossible not to. It’s as real as electricity.

And it feels like her new best friend has suddenly been replaced by the page of a book. An illustration with a caption underneath it on the top half, labeled with her friend’s name. And the bottom half with just a snippet of story. Hardly anything she can make sense of.

Is there a person there anymore?

Was there ever?

She didn’t go down to the shop today, because she needs this alone time to try to think about this.

��I don’t want to get caught up in nobody else’s myth,” her mouth says. And she half agrees with it.

If it were the right myth, and she had the right role, it feels like it would take her away from her pain, though. And that’s why she’d given Meghan the time of day in the first place, she realizes.

Maybe she should start going back to church. Not for the religion, of course. That’s already rejected her and her child, Jacob. But for the community. The chance of having some kind of family again.

She could maybe leave her truths here, in her apartment, for that.

It’s so fucking hard.

She and Meghan had been lonely together, and it was something, at least.

Her phone buzzes.

She pulls it out and sees a message from Meghan in her group chat, “All plans blown today. Met Säure at DMV. Want to eat him. Talking instead.”

—

Astraia’s oversized keyboard arrived yesterday, so today she and Caleb are trying it out.

Caleb works graveyard, so he’s effectively staying up late. But he says it’s worth it.

The livingroom of their apartment has become a hydra den, the white walls completely unadorned, and half the floor of the room covered with animal hides they’ve been trading and saving for. Astraia’s old wardrobe and some of the furniture went into the effort of acquiring them.

The other half has their computers hooked up to two medium sized TVs.

She can’t fit through the front door anymore, but the sliding glass door leading the concrete patio is still big enough. Another molt, and she might have to find a garage to move into.

But she’s not arguing with herselves about that right now. She’s almost all completely focused on playing Diablo 2: Resurrection with Caleb.

She’s hissing. He’s cussing. But occasionally they will each reach out and give the other an affectionate bump. They’re working together through the Kurrast swamps on Hell and they both have always hated this level. The shared hatred feels like a kind of love.

Fortuitously, right as she creates a town portal and steps through to the safety of the docks, there’s a loud ping from Discord.

Her rightmost head poinks at Caleb, and she switches over to see which server it’s coming from. Caleb nods and leans over to look at her screen.

Queen Meg’s, of course.

The general channel.

Meg wrote, “Säure is dragon. Can human. Talking right now. All day. Might eat him.”

She and Caleb exchange glances, then she types, “Save us eight bites.”

Caleb holds out a fist, and she bumps it with one of her noses.

They keep playing

—

Joel is enjoying his new favorite pastime of letting children play on him.

It is a weekday, and most kids are at school, and usually it would be just him and the seagulls unless he went to one of his other haunts to drink with the locals. But there’s this one family, and it’s clear that the two children need their dragon time while their mother talks with a friend about their troubles. He can’t talk, but he’ll be here for them whenever he can. Tuesdays are usually one of their days.

There isn’t much to it. He just lies there, and they climb all over him, ignoring the actual play toy in the playground. Occasionally, when they’re both far enough away from him for a moment, he’ll roll over and change his positioning. Always folding up his wings carefully, and tight, though, as out of the way as possible.

A few strategic groans, and the kids all learn pretty quickly where not to step, if they don’t figure it out themselves at first glance.

He’s now lying on his back in the grass with his head facing east, giving him an upside down view of the hill that Flounder Sound Brewpub is on, and the university behind that. And he can’t help yawning.

Later that night, he’ll do his rounds and swallow up the excess food that the restaurants have to throw out. He’s their new compost bin, and it’s a pretty good gig. Sometimes he gets some beer out of the deal, too.

He doesn’t have a tablet or a phone or anything like that that he can use to connect with the other dragons, but he feels like he’s starting to understand them as if they’re talking, even when they don’t utter a word. He wonders if that goes both ways. Sometimes it seems like Meghan understands him better than she should.

In any case, he doesn’t get the message from Meghan in any way.

Instead, what happens is that he feels her and another dragon enter his territory as if they were rolling onto one of his wings with a little toy car. It’s not a painful sensation at all, just a very clear and obvious one. And he recognizes her presence very clearly.

He’s always been able to do this, even before, though no one believed him about all the dragons.

He doesn’t recognize the other one, but he knows his nature. That’s a really fucking big dragon.

He groans and gives an affable yawp and starts to roll very slowly back onto his feet. The two kids both complain and whine, but dutifully and carefully get off.

Once everyone is situated in a standing position, he looks at them, bobs his head, and then yawps quietly again, as cheerfully as he can manage.

And then he starts galloping toward the brewpub where Meghan and her rival are clearly headed.

—

Wentin is standing precariously on the roof of the wooden observation tower on the hill in the Fairport Arboretum, facing north, its lionine form dwarfing the structure. Its head is turning ever so subtly as it tracks the movement of a speck of a car driving from Northside to the south end of Downtown Fairport. There are times when the car is not visible to it, hidden behind trees or buildings, but its gaze is unerringly accurate.

It’s not tracking by sight.

As the car approaches the brewpub that’s its destination, Wentin creaks, “Too soon. Much too soon.”

—

Chapman has an annoying little job today.

It’s a business card sie has to design from elements the client gave the shop.

The problem is that the chosen comp has been returned on the third revision with the note, “Can we make my logo bigger, pls.” This is the third time sie has seen that note on this job.

As always, if the logo were any bigger it would bleed off the edges of the card and be illegible.

It seems like, about four times a year, another client makes this same demand of a business card or a small ad or a brochure. There’s just a type of business owner that doesn’t seem to understand the concept of space or how to communicate what it is that they actually want, and they all use the same cut and paste note, complete with the abbreviated “pls”.

Talking to hir coworkers and boss about it only gets light commiseration and maybe a cussword or two, but no further understanding. Nobody has a clue why people do this.

It must be a neurotype. A percentage of the human population that just sees space differently somehow.

Chapman dearly wants to scan this client to find out what’s going on, but that goes against hir personal code of ethics.

The only thing sie can do design-wise is actually make the logo a tiny bit smaller, increasing the white space around it, and moving all the other elements just a tad further away from it, shrinking them.

Otherwise, sie can effectively fire the client as being too hard to work with. Hir boss will back hir up on that.

Sie decides to give her expert design decision a try, thinking about how sie really shouldn’t have to put this much thought into such a small, routine job. And sighs.

Hir phone buzzes.

Sie leans back in hir chair and picks it up from its face down space on hir desk to look at the message as briefly as possible.

It’s Meghan.

It’s Meghan with Säure.

Chapman touches the scanning tattoos on hir wrists together and focuses on Meghan’s patterns, knowing that Meghan will feel this, and perhaps Säure will too.

They’re headed to Flounder Sound Brewpub, in a car.

Chapman scans the whole city next and spends a moment thinking about the data sie received from it.

It’s not numbers. It’s not something you could plug into a computer.

This century, Chapman would choose to describe it as like strings of probability, all interwoven and passing waves of meaning to each other. And that looking at a portion of it can give you clues as to what’s happening in the greater universe and hints as to what’s happening to a tinier portion of it, but never anything definitive. But at the scale of pattern that you look at, if you squint, sometimes you can predict the future.

Kind of like predicting where a baseball will fly after a pitcher has thrown it. At a certain point, you’re trying to predict where it will go after the batter has swung, and that’s harder.

Chapman groans and presses the backs of hir wrists together, a different set of tattoos.

This time, all the power in the building goes out.

Chapman was saving this particular effect for an emergency like this.

The power won’t go on for the rest of the day, and everyone will have to go home, where they will be slightly safer.

Maybe that will have been unnecessary, but sie does care about them.

—

Kim and Kimberly both interrupt their tasks to pull their phones out of their pockets at the same time and look at them. Then they exchange uneasy looks.

“What just happened?” the nosiest customer they’ve either ever met asks them.

“Armageddon,” Kimberly says, shugging, and putting her phone back in her skirt pocket, and then turning to the espresso machine to prep it.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine,” Kim says, waving her hand dismissively at the customer and going back to the POS to finish the order.

Later, Kim mumbles to Kimberly, “I’m sure the others will keep us informed.”

“Or we’ll hear about it with our own ears when the city explodes,” Kimberly responds.

“Please don’t talk like that.”

—

Since his last statement, I’ve been having trouble figuring out what to say to Säure, and the rest of the drive has been oppressively quiet.

It’s almost like he’s managed to paralyze me with just words.

It’s my C-PTSD, I know. Suddenly having a social demand placed on me by an authority figure sometimes does this to me, even if I don’t want to recognize them as an authority.

I’m painfully aware of the perceived power he has over me as someone in his socio-economic position, and the very possible real power he has that I just honestly don’t know about. I don’t know what he’s spent his money on. And he has a larger vocabulary than me while exhibiting at least one of my own special abilities.

His draconic prowess is a huge unknown.

But, you know? So is mine. I’ve only just started learning what I can really do. And I can feel I’m due for another molt, which means I’m growing. I think. I know I’m growing. Maybe molting happens regardless.

So now, I’m holding my tablet in my lap and staring at the road, ignoring the car around me, and thinking about just whether or not I can get the better of him and show my dominance, at all. Ever.

And then we get to our destination, and the lunch time rush has made it so there are no parking spots within a two block radius.

And I get the rare joy to see a genuine billionaire silently, stoically fuming as he drives in circles, looking for a place to park where he won’t have to walk very much.

The really weird part of this moment is when I realize that we’re both dragons who should not be doing this. We should have our teeth on each other’s necks, claws dug into each other’s sides, beating each other silly with our wings. We should be wreathed in fire.

—

Ptarmigan stands on the roof of the Magnolia apartments, keeping an eye on Meghan’s duffel bag, even though she never asked her to do that.

It just has old clothes of Chapman’s in it. And there’s nothing else special on the roof, besides a smattering of small polished river rocks and undigested compressed pellets full of beak, bone, and feather fragments.

But every now and then, Ptarmigan feels like it’s a good idea to be up here when Meghan isn’t, and to keep an eye on things. Especially when the police presence in the neighborhood picks up.

She’s not exactly worried about being caught up here.

It would be extremely inconvenient. But she’s taken precautions to make that improbable. While she’s present, anyone thinking about checking the roof, or glancing its way, will remember nightmares they had as a child that terrorized them, and stop thinking about it.

Meghan’s had enough bother from the human authorities. It’s time someone trained them to reflexively ignore her home.

Meghan has no idea that Ptarmigan is doing this, and that doesn’t really matter.

Ptarmigan’s phone buzzes and she looks at it.

“Yeah,” she says. Then she walks to the southeast corner of the building and looks out over the city toward one of the brewpubs. The one near the Farmer’s Market square.

She reaches up and grabs the toothpick that’s in her mouth and flicks it out toward the street. She doesn’t even watch it fall.

Sitting down on the edge of the building, legs dangling over the side, she pulls her little sketch-journal out and yanks the ballpoint pen out of its spine.

It’s time to do some real work.

—

Maybe I’ll hear about all these reactions my friends are having after the fact and include them in one of the books I’m writing. For now, I’m just speculating.

I know that I now plan on writing several. Without being able to talk as well as I used to, I have the urge to be at my computer as often as possible and just write. And I know that even if I just write about the first few weeks of this whole experience, I’m going to infodump about dragons and it’s going to get too long for one book. And a lot has happened. A lot keeps happening.

Or, maybe I’ll be messily killed and eaten, if not by Säure then by Wentin, and I’ll lose my memories of this life, and it will all be filled in by one of my friends, as they finish this chapter of my story.

I feel pretty comfortable with either outcome, honestly. Though I don’t look forward to the experience of being eaten. Or most of me doesn’t.

I haven’t quite yet figured out how it will all turn out, but at least I know what I am.

—

There’s a moment, at the stop sign right in front of the brewpub, where the incensed Säure stops and just breathes. He closes his eyes, hands at ten and two o’clock, relaxes his shoulders, and takes in a breath through his nose and lets it out through his teeth.

And then he watches as a family of four leave the restaurant section of the brewpub and start walking toward their van, which appears to be parked around the corner to the right of us.

A little earlier, I had felt shifts from Chapman and Ptarmigan, so I know I’m being looked after.

If Säure did anything, I didn’t feel it.

He didn’t use Artistry.

I know I don’t feel any sort of shift when Wentin does its weird shit. And I expect I won’t feel anything whenever Säure sheds his disguise.

I can speculate as to what this means. It seems pretty obvious, but sometimes I like to keep my reactions free of conclusions. I just note this right now.

Maybe Säure didn’t do anything but relax.

He smiles at me as the spot opens up and he pulls forward to turn and take it before anyone else can.

“It. Worked,” he says.

[chaifootsteps]

just wanted to say thanks for being a chill space former fans of HH & HB can hangout and vent together. it's been cathartic seeing other people talk about the flaws in the writing & other fandom related stuff. I thought The Circus was comically bad when I first watched it - that first half I kept expecting a twist that would explain how Blitzo and Stolas had apparently forgotten they were childhood friends for all of the first season, but it only went downhill from there.

the fanbase did start to get more critical from that ep but it still made me feel a bit like I was crazy when I saw fans act like everything was normal and the writing was as good as ever. I've increasingly seen them build headcanons to create a better show and I feel bad for those still expecting a satisfying resolution to this mess (except for the ones who act as Viv's attack pack, of course, but I'm sure they and the show will be very happy together). So it was reassuring to see a thriving critical community - both you and creators like Diregentlemen & ArteiceTB have been sounding the alarm early and getting it in the neck from the fanbase as a result, but time is only proving you right

I can only hope the same happens regarding the abuse surrounding Viv and Spindlehorse and the victims can get the same kind of vindication soon, too

Thank you for being here, Anon! In addition to sending in screenshots and keeping me honest, you guys make this whole thing fun and the neck-getting tolerable, and none of it would be possible without you.

I do think justice is coming. I have no way of proving it, I don't know how or when, but I've just got a hunch that time has something else up its sleeve.

In the meantime, we've all got each other, and I'm sincerely grateful we do!

[narwhalandchill]

a bit more serious/negative note on childes characterization and fandom perception, saw a post where the tone upset me quite a bit

i did do a whole vent/rant/cathartic 2.4k words of writeup on this yesterday which like did help clear my thoughts a lot but in hindsight is way too long to just release by itself so i suppose ill just summarize my thinking now

so i would really appreciate it if a certain subset of childe fans reading his character a specific way (the trauma, identity crisis, dark abyss experiences, etc. - you know the one) could stop acting as if its this like. superior canon proven hoyo intended most real and intellectual way to look at his character and interpret his narrative. as opposed to just one reading of the canon material among others. and im sure most people are civil but ive seen this tone enough to just need to get this off my chest rn.

like im not "missing" something or being "tricked" (what?) by childe or the narrative. its not some naive ignorance about this reading being a thing and the ways people argue for it. ive read his lore. p much memorized it rly. and i simply did not find the arguments that compelling or feel that inserting this additional layer of subjective interpretation atop my understanding of the canon text did much to enhance childes narrative potential or characterization for me.

simply put. applying this super strict irl psychology logic (bc yes a real 14 yo going thru some irl version of ajax' backstory would get severe psychological disturbances as p much given. i know what the DSM-V is) to fantasy game characters isnt how i enjoy engaging with childe or any character really.

genshin is a fantasy game and fantasy as a genre has always readily sidestepped things like realistic psychological consequences of various heavy experiences in favor of building a compelling narrative whenever necessary. i dont find arguments relating to irl psychology particularly relevant at all on the subject really. if you enjoy this approach, go on, have fun! but please understand that its an interpretation that people can disagree without being "wrong" or failing some arbitrary reading comprehension test.

like the dismissive tone i see from people who simply cannot comprehend that like no, this take isnt some universal truth of hoyos that every person will glean from reading up on childes lore and appearances if theyre big brain and intellectual enough is just... really fucking rude? and alienating.

im not going to go on a like whole ramble on all the things that i personally see very much as hinting towards childes characterization going quite a different direction than this popular heavy self-doubt, psychological angle would suggest. its my interpretation after all, and could be proven wrong the way any interpretation can. but for now ive read his lore for years and looked into every single tidbit that involves him and so far hoyos writing of him hasnt given me any convinving case for changing my view drastically anytime soon. and id just like to be allowed to exist in this fandom space without being randomly jumpscared by posts alleging im reducing his character to this or that just bc i see his greatest narrative potential elsewhere.

theres enough insane shit and incredibly interesting lore relating to his overall role in the story and the cosmic scale of teyvat as a whole to be invested in already. like taking childes character as depicted to us and how in-game content characterizes him at a relative face value as opposed to seeking an implied internal struggle of sth hidden and repressed is me simply finding that take the most unique, fascinating, horrifying, compelling and exciting way to see him instead. thats what i love about him and his character. like im sorry, in my eyes the dark past corrupting innocence and trauma angle has just been done to death already in media. childe can have something actually different and breaking those tropes is what makes him stand out for me!

anyway. this whole situation is not sth i wanna start flaming ppl for or make into some drama, i try my best to stay on my lane and let ppl live even if i disagree w these sorta takes on childe. and i just wish for that grace to be extended towards myself too.

[therealmofstarwars]

✨🪐 Commitment Needed for Star Wars Collab Fanfiction Server✨

🔥🔥 THE VENT STARTS NOW 🔥🔥

This sets the tone that the blog post is specifically meant for venting purposes without restraint. The fiery imagery and warning about explicit language lets readers know this is a space for free expression and cathartic release.

🔥🔥 VENTING ZONE AHEAD 🔥🔥

Extended revision disclaimer:

The following blog post is a raw, unfiltered venting session. Foul language, explicit rants, and incendiary opinions are absolutely guaranteed. If you're easily offended or prefer sunshine and rainbows, turn back now

This is a judgment-free zone for getting shit off my chest without censorship. It's cathartic expression at its most primal and uncensored. You've been warned - enter at your own risk!*

If you choose to proceed, buckle up and prepare for a profanity-laced, no-holds-barred venting extravaganza. This is the main event for when I'm fed up and need to blow off some serious steam.*

There will be fury. There will be rants. There will be all the curse words. But there are no limits or boundaries here - just pure, uninhibited venting in its natural state.

🔥 For Those Who Understand 🔥

To those getting it and allowing me this cathartic release - thank you. Your support and understanding is appreciated as I get this off my chest.*

🔥 For Those Who Don't 🔥

If you don't vibe with this energy, you had it coming. I'm an unapologetic Aries and I don't hold back when venting. Don't say you weren't warned!

🔥🔥 THE VENT STARTS NOW 🔥🔥

I'm not a role model, I don't plan to be. I'm just a 23-year-old college student and young adult trying to survive a quarter-life crisis over here.

Hey everyone, I have an important announcement regarding our Star Wars Collab Fanfiction server on Discord. I've noticed a frustrating pattern lately of members joining the server, being somewhat active for a little while, and then disappearing without any notice or commitment.

I clarify - I am banning lazy, annoying, uncommitted fake members who play the asshole card. It pisses me off when people make last-minute plans and can't make up their damn minds. Stop wasting my damn time! It's rude, frustrating, annoying and brings unnecessary stress.

Going forward, I want to be upfront - if you join this fanfiction server, I expect you to be an active, committed member. That doesn't mean you have to be online 24/7, but it does mean regularly participating in discussions, showing up to collaborate on writing projects, and letting us know if you'll be inactive for a period of time.

For the love of God, Buddha, Athena - stop wasting my damn time! This is the last straw. You are banned if you pissed me off. I am recruiting real Star Wars fanfiction writers who are actually intrigued to join and collaborate.

If you realize this server isn't for you after joining, that's totally fine! Just let me or a mod know so we can remove you properly. But joining, being a ghost for a few weeks, and then disappearing forever? That's not cool.

My goal is to build a tight-knit community of Star Wars fanfiction writers who actually want to be here and work together. Uncommitted members who just take up space aren't helping achieve that vision. I will post announcements, but I need committed fanfic writers who are actually intrigued to join and collaborate.

Sorry guys, we had to deal with this - it's not fun for us all. I'll post this on my Tumblr Star Wars fan blog, then take a break. I hope you guys are actually committed and genuinely intrigued. I have three members right now, I just want this growing server to meet an online community of other fans to collab on Star Wars fanfiction and make new online friends. I am tired of this bullshit, I just want peace, ugh.

I hope you all understand where I'm coming from with this. Let's work together to build an amazing Star Wars fanfiction community on Discord that people stick around and invest in!

#starwarsfanfic #starwarscollabfanfiction #discordserver #fanficserver #fanficcollab

[my-castles-crumbling]

hi cas!!

im gonna rant at you for a bit if you dont mind :)

Im a minor that lives in a super tight night, close minded community. Super religious, super homophobic transphobic ect. Seeing as im a teenage girl whose questioning their gender and is definitely attracted to women thats kinda problematic lols. Honestly idek how to explain the situation without a bunch of details, but basically, theres a fifty-fifty chance of me being sent to conversion therapy or just cut off from any internet access (and i mean ANY. i have a flip phone for fucks sake.)if my fam finds out im queer, i have no support system outside of some internet friends who know nothing about my situation, and within the next few years(so like once i turn 20ish, thats in like 4 years but whatever) my family is going to expect me to get married to a man and start popping out babies asap. Btw thats whats expected of me in this community, marriage under the age of 25, have like as many kids as physically possible and god forbid higher education. And im not okay with that . Ffs i want to go to college, major in fine arts, meet a person i like and fall desperately in love or maybe not just have a bunch of close platonic relationships i want cats and a dog and a cute studio in a big city where i can dye my hair whatever color i want aand get an obsene amount of piercings, i want to wear pants!! I just want to live. Without expectations or limits or people who love me hating everything they dont know about me. Is that truly so much to ask for?

And im incredibly dramatic cuz i literally have the dream life. My family loves me, my parents are upper middle class, theyve never hurt me before(besides for all the anti everything rants haha) i literally have a full sized bed, which for some reason i see as the peak of being spoiled idk why. I go to school, not even public, a private religious school that prob costs thousands of dollars, i have friends(who are all part of this community btw and id bet my entire savings that most of them think gay is only a word that ppl use to mean happy lol) close ones even!! I have adorable neices and nephews(my 3 sisters all were married by the age of 20, so i have 11 niecesand nephews while my oldest sister is 31) im living the dream life. But i hate it and i have no way out. No hope of college to get on my feet and find someway out, no people that'll help me fucking run away or some bullshit like that, hell ive considered it and then felt like shit, cuz what am i even running from? Im probably attracted to men it wont kill me to marry one. And i like kids, i wouldnt mind having any either. But.... i dont want to be trapped anymore. Cuz ill be honest thats what i am.if some one asked me to run away with them rn i would, no hesitation.

God im a mess😭😭 anyway this was me ranting in my notes app, im just apologizing for dumping this on a complete stranger(we're moots actually!!) albeit a very kind one :) i dont know what im looking for, but ill take whatever your comfortable giving ig.

I love and appreciate you<333

And hey this has been oddly cathartic so lmk if its okay for me to do this again sometime :))

"im living the dream life. But i hate it and i have no way out."

Hon, you're not living the dream life...there's a difference between financial privilege and being happy, you know? It's pretty clear that this isn't what you want.

I'm not sure if you're asking for my advice here, or if you just want to vent. But I care about you, and if you want me to research some things to try to help you, I'm more than willing to (that way it's not on your search history.) Just say the word!

Until then, you are ALWAYS allowed to vent to me.

I'm naming you venting anon in case you write again!

[nothing0fnothing]

Why do you post your trauma online?

When I was young I always felt that keeping a diary helped me. I'd write in it most nights as a form of meditation. It was my healthiest coping strategy and it was genuinely helpful for me to process all my big feelings I'd had all day into words on pages. When I was done I'd put my diary away, into a box that lived on my bookshelf for safe keeping. Safe and private and just for me as it should be.

When had just turned 18 I got kicked out of my moms house. I wasn't expecting it, I was under the impression I was welcome to stay till I finished year 13 and went to university. It happened with no warning on a school day I had work on too. Out of necessity I began sleeping on friends couches and feeling helpless I'd just start crying alone in the toilets at school hoping that my mom, who was abroad on holiday would sort the whole situation out for me. In the meantime my mom's husband, at home with my then 14 year old sister, ripped up my framed photos, tore apart my prom dress and publicised the diary I had kept between the ages of 11 and 13 on social media.

When he decided to do that the narrative in our family and with our friends shifted from being about how horribly I'd been treated, to being about how horrible I was to write the things I did when I was much younger. Suddenly on top of all the stress I was feeling I had to now defend what I wrote 6 years prior in my private diary when I was 11 years old. I thought I must have entered the twilight zone. Everyone wanted to know why I'd called my step dad an asshole in my diary or to shame me for thinking things so terrible. I got accused of intentionally writing it to cause hurt and upset. I got accused of "leaving it where it could be found" (see: in a closed box on my bookshelf marked "private" and "do not read") it felt like I'd been put on trial.

It was a horrible transition into adulthood and every aspect of what happened in that time was it's own trauma I still live with.

Months later, when I was safley living independently from the home I'd grown up in, I wanted to start writing things down again. It had been months since I'd done it and I wanted to process everything I experienced into writing like I always used to. I couldn't do it. I found I was editing my thoughts as I wrote them, scared that someway, somehow my diary would become public, and I'd once again have to defend what I wrote down. I couldn't help but think "how would this look if someone read it with no context" "how could I justify writing this down if people saw this?" It just wasn't helping like it used to, the anxiety of being caught out was too overwhelming. It was heartbreaking. It was 9 months after the event and it felt like this was just one more thing I'd never have again because of it.

So I downloaded an app called Vent, where I'd type out what I'd usually write down, and post anonymously, knowing other people would read it. And for the first time since the incident, I felt free to say what I needed to.

It's different this way. Nobody can take my words and use them to shame me this way. I don't have to justify why I write what I write now. Nobody is expecting me to defend myself for writing what I do. It's public because *I* decided to make it public, people are reading because *I* let them read what I have to say.

Its cathartic and nobody can take it away from me.

[spamtoon]

DCRC Week 7. I'm so close

I'm so close to catching up. time for an earthquake! I know that from puffy's various jokes about it something happens with the west coast in this one hoo boy calisota is gonna be in danger tonight! I'm so close to catching up. So inanely close. oh wiat hold on lemme get in club pen.guin again

ALRIGHT okay interesting first panel. i like the colors here and the sound effects. sorry these panels are so bright paperinik's style...

my favorite standard font title replacement so far i think

i like how the money symbol is there so we can tell its mcduck enterprises

im so mad i love how he's ploping the bear into the coffee. hot chocolate. something like that

the little crackers surrounding the coffee mug as theres a rainy scene in the background. the color contrast... hi one you look so silly today

i love how uno's just floating today usually they try to show his little chord or him attached to something but he's so silly

im so mad. get uno's ass donald

hes so silly though... the way donald rattles off all the things and uno's just like shut up please. he thinks he's onto something btu he's literally onto nothing

im so mad. do you know how to ride a bicycle this is not that

divorce (they argued for two seconds)

hello girl. i dont know who you are but your design is everything to me

im so mad shoutout to when comics do this. more heroes should be federal criminals and evade taxes. i love the way he's like Oh Fuck! I'm a Criminal Now! glad the government gets on pk's bad side too RIGHT after the time police nonetheless

she... i might have her job someday. imean not LITERALLY like i dont wanna go into security but i do want to work in an environmental department. i love how uno is just really into snooping on the fbi and honestly who wouldn't be Donald. be peer pressured into getting yourself into more trouble with the govenrment come onnn

physical antiviruses... ugh code wall so cool im. the way they're battling on the us fbi logo

IM SO MAD i actaully laughed at them getting angus fangus. if he blamed this on the duck avenger randomly he would be right and he could convince them so this could have been the worst play ever but its also the most cathartic

hello mary ann flagstarr...

cog donald's little red eyes... the digital and the real are blurring for a moment but i guess the fbi's security system is so complicated it has. air vents. or he's in the real fbi nevermind

holy shit guys its MEEEEEEEE yeah i never told you guys i was in pk the whole time. its insane

I LOVE HOW HES JUST LIKE. BEATING UP FEDERAL AGENTS NOW AND IT SLIKE OKAY things are only going to get worse im . this is a you call yourself a superhero moment but also the government is the government so!

odnald duck really did think nobody would show up at 3am

hes so fucking smug

ah the pangea project! surely that doesn't mean good things for calisota! ah okay they're not painting the whole government as evil just this guy specifically that makes a little more sense for a disney comic

she's so sad... ooh this is gonna be a ba.xter stockman situation isnt it (SORRY i have seen 1 episode of 2003 and it was. the banned one in call with everyone). she's just like oh my god you're fucking dying and he's like my plan... you must do it... it was my wife's definitely

WHAAAAAAAAT NOOOOOO... HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN IN MY DONALD DUCK STORY? (sarcastic)

sorry this was like the one thing i knew about this comic beforehand. other than like. uno existed. sarcasm aside i do love this panel

i like they Try to give a reason as to why the govenrment is doing this "out of good will" despite the evil laughs and such as like. a climate change backup--land we haven't messed up yet. but like this should be a last resort and not an immediately executed plan and i get you cant evacuate the whole west coast but california has so much of what the us is known for the us would be stupid to let those countless tourism dollars go to waste--especially when new land may not immediately go to claim of the us and Wars might happen over it. sorry im not nitpicking or anything i'm just saying my thoughts. like st canard is a massive city and so is duckburg and--sorry

and uno is sad because he doesnt know whether the sacrifice is worth it which. alright! yeah! but everything's not gonna be peachy keen just because we have some new land to work with. its got to grow naturally and as its arisen from the sea unless its all completely man-bulldozed its going to be rock, dead coral, and lichen for a while before anything grows naturally. the thought process of a scientist who can see everyone as getting in the way, climate change disaster as inevitable unless there are serious changes in human behavior or just straight up more resources and time (and who HATES calisota because he lives there), sure. believable enough for a silly comic like this

IM SO MAD AND THEN IT JUST CUTS TO

HIS STUPID PLANE its beautiful.

PLEASE dont kill of mary ann i love her already

im so glad she doesnt shoot either of them right away like its a massive ??? situation. you cant shoot donald duck

uno feels so bad for dipping for a second for being unsure :(((( poor guy...

this ending panel with the seagull is so good but oh. hohoh. are we gonna get more uno lore next issue ANYWAY yeah! good comic i see why this one is a lot of people's favorites. im glad im having fun reading paperinik again... that sure was a terremoto and boy oh boy... the west coast DIDNT sink? thanks to donald duck? wow. incredible.

[yellowroseswrites]

This one is more of a cathartic work than a comfort work, but if you need an outlet or something to call you out then you have certainly come to the right place. This is a part of some quick blurbs I wrote while I wait to post my longer fic requests :)

[TW, PLEASE READ, I cannot stress enough how triggering this fic could be. It is written mainly from an overthinking, self hatred, train of thought pov and its filled with terrible things about readers self image. It doesn't have any comfort at the end, only crying. Again, it's more of a vent fic than a comfort fic, please don't read if you think it will trigger you. If i missed any tw pls let me know. Feel free to reqiest a blurb in my asks ! <3]

Modern! James potter x Fem! reader-

"Pretty Girls"

It had been four hours. Four full hours of you scrolling through tiktok only to find every girl who was prettier, skinnier, and better than you. You had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't find it in you to stop scrolling. You had to figure out how they did it, you need to know how to make yourself look like they did and talk like they did and smile like they did and walk like they did and move like they did. You had to make yourself be like them.

James knocked gently on the bathroom door, "Baby," he started, "It's been awhile, are you okay?"

Of course you weren't okay. They were pretty. They were skinny. They has straight teeth. They weren't sitting alone on the cold bathroom floor praying that they could fall asleep and wake up in a different body.

"Love?"

And James, poor James. He's so perfect, so correct. He deserved a pretty girlfriend, He deserved someone who could make him feel good. Someone who wouldn't hurt him when they sat on him, someone who knew what they were doing and could do anything they set their mind to.

"I'm coming in okay?" 

The door knob clicked as it opened. You didn't hear it. You couldn't see the concerned look on James' face through your tears. You couldn't feel his hands on your shoulder, in fact, the only thing you could feel was the bile raising in your throat. You felt weird, you felt gross. You felt so full of hatred towards yourself and you didn't know where to put it. You didn't know what to do with it.

"Hey, look at me. What's wrong?"

You looked at him, but it only made you feel worse. He was so pretty. You focused on the feeling of his hand on your shoulder. It was a nice hand, a great hand even. You didn't deserve that hand.

All of a sudden all that you could think of was to get away from him. You were going to contaminate him with your grossness. You couldn't do that. You pulled your shoulder closer toward yourself and pulled your knees up into a ball. When James tried to move closed you swatted at him with your arms,

"No, no, no, g- go away."

You could barely get words out. You didn't want to speak. You didn't have a good enough voice to speak. You wanted to be gone, you wished more than anything that you could disappear. You put your head against your knees and cried. You cried and you cried and you cried and you didn't stop.

James didn't try to touch you again. He sat back against the wall opposite of you and cried with you. He didn't cry because he didn't want you. He didn't cry because you swatted him away. He cried because you were in pain and he didn't know how to make it stop.

Neither of you knew how to make it stop.

[natasha-in-space]

Hey im the matsuda enjoyer anon who pointed out that he and yoosung are basically the same guy.

I cant help but imagine......what if they met, i mean in the age of social media its not impossible. While I dont think matsuda was a gamer but he was very much into pop culture and so is yoosung.

What if they both unite over their love for a certain kpop group (in my head its Girls Generation) and become internet friends

I can imagine after the good ending yoosung prolly might go to japan a couple of times for work related stuff or just to enjoy with MC (and drag seven with him as well)

What if the now mid-late 20s yoosung (who is a vet) meets the now early 40s matsuda (who is still a cop but is confined to desk jobs cuz the task force was tired of his shenanigans). What if they decide to share a drink and eventually have a long conversation. What if they start their talks by talking about their shared interest and eventually ending up venting after realising that they had been through a similar journey (being infantilised by their friend groups grief low self esteem yet keeping an optimistic outlook in life) and perhaps share advices to each other whilst being drunk which struck a chord in each other's heart.

I can see matsuda being an older man advising yoosung but i could also see yoosung (who has accomplished a lot in a short time despite his own struggles with loss grief and of course the eye injury) advicing matsuda. Both of them reassuring each other that it will get better (bye im crying)

Good to see you back Matsuda anon! I must say, this ask made me grin so wide as I was reading it. I adore it when people make two of their faves meet and become friends. It's such a sweet notion, both as a way of expressing your shared love for these characters, as well as a neat basis for new interesting analysis. (It's my own guilty pleasure as well, hehe)

Meeting someone who understands what it's like to struggle with grief, conflicting feelings about someone who was once very important to them, and the frustration of never being taken seriously due to their young age would benefit them both greatly. While they both must have overcome the last problem by that point, discussing it with someone who understands can still be very cathartic.

Having a good friend who can make Yoosung feel comfortable and understood is something he deserves. It's also heartwarming to think of Matsuda becoming a new kind of role model for Yoosung! Not on the same level as it was with Rika, but just as a figure of strength and motivation for him, when things are tough. Having friends who are older than you can be a very beneficial experience as you are moving through life!

And as for Matsuda... It'll definitely do him some good to have someone with whom he can openly discuss what he had to go through. Sure, he has a few people like that, but none that can actually fully relate on a deeper level. I also think he'd be super impressed by Yoosung. By all that he managed to overcome and achieve in his (relatively) young age. His determination to better himself and to protect his loved ones, him finding (or rather resurrecting) his passion for his own path in life, and him resolving what conflicting feelings he still held for Rika... It's so much, and it's-

It's inspiring.

I know I said that Matsuda can become a new role model for Yoosung, but it goes the other way around as well! Having these talks with the younger vet can greatly motivate Matsuda to work on himself further and pursue what he truly wants. It's never too late to restore your happiness. It's rather sweet to think about, actually. Two people who share similar painful experiences planting fresh seeds of hope into one another that everything is going to be okay. As you put it: it will get better.

On a lighter note, the thought of them being fans of the same girl groups makes me giggle. (Them going to a Girls Generation concern??? More likely than you'd think! Although Saeyoung will definitely tag along and create some mischief) I feel like they both are still struggling with openly expressing their likes and interests, as they got teased for that in the past, so it'll be very beneficial to them to have a safe space to chatter excitedly about this or that, without fear of being judged. Being passionate about something is not a bad thing, and should be celebrated! On that note, they will definitely send each other exclusive merch and buy each other tickets for events. There are some benefits to having a friend in a different country!

Overall, it's nice to think of these two being good buddies. It's what they deserve. And I love reading your thoughts on them! :)

[ray-elgatodormido]

WIP Weekend thank you greatly @lucien-lachance for the tag!

So here’s a return of Baadahil the Dunmer Milf and a character from a DnD campaign I’m playing in as well as other shenanigans. (Btw I plan to DM in the future. Also but of a vent text at the bottom)

Bit of a vent but:

I’ll be honest. Lately I’ve been and still am going through some really rough times. Mainly due to an important friend of mine being in denial about his potentially toxic relationship. Its hard to hang around the couple, I keep seeing worrisome issues being passed off as cute and quirky, my friend feels like a completely different person and its overall draining to put it as brief as I can so I don’t go on forever. But I managed to find support and it felt incredibly cathartic to vent out my frustrations with all the ugly words and emotions without shame. Might fully vent about this in the future if needed and delete the post later who knows. Anyway I hope you dear person on the other side of the screen have a wonderful evening.

[hanzajesthanza]

by the way, i wanted to thank everybody for so many kind, encouraging, and thoughtful responses to my first video. (slight vent post :>)

it did indeed take a lot of work and a lot out of me, a lot of research, multiple stupid all-nighters… but as unhealthy as it was, it was actually really good for me, i think. it was a real experiment, i honestly haven’t worked so hard on something since my thesis to graduate last year.

i felt cathartic, that i had it in me to make something like this, that i’m not useless…

i mean, i know i’m not, but ever since graduation i’ve felt so, so burned out and as a result of that, just, stupid and inexperienced compared to everyone else in my field, socially isolated, agoraphobic, even, in some cases.

(i’m one of those people that worked really hard in high school and college, and now that i’ve graduated it’s like, who am i? what is my purpose? what is my value? add burnout to that, and you have a year of feeling guilty that i’m not killing myself constantly with projects.)

so to be able to actually fucking make something that not only took a lot of work, but had me constantly pushing my comfort zone, reorganizing my space (physically and digitally) and just trying my hardest to get it done… on top of it, being really, really be passionate about what i was working on… it feels like…

it feels like, if a close friend of yours died a year ago… and you went numb with mourning… but then you just got news that they’re alive…

but the thing is, that friend is you.

it’s funny how dramatic i’m being, because i actually decided today that i don’t like the video much, and that it’s not very well-produced. (it only took me two-to-four days to start hating my artwork, of course. well, i had a good time being proud of myself while it lasted).

it’s something along the lines of calanthe’s “i hope my outburst didn’t offend you. the form, not the content.” i hope this video didn’t offend you—the form, not the content. i’m secure in the content, the research. but the form… again, like calanthe’s, very ‘in the moment.’

i woke up this morning really mad at myself for making some creative decisions that i feel cheapen the whole thing. (i don’t know what posessed me to use my accent color for a background color, it makes the whole thing look gaudy and unprofessional. i guess i just didn’t want a boring white background, but ugh… that is going to be on my list of regrets for a while).

but i placated myself knowing that the video does its job as a biography and a source of information. and the fact that youtubers sometimes remake their first videos later in their careers. (well, at least my first video is a topic that will never go out of style, it’s an essential, expository, evergreen topic of interest). and that i will make more videos, improving one thing at a time. one thing at a time. slow steps to progress.

i want to make engaging videos, but it’s really difficult because i don’t think i have a very engaging personality… it’s very “book report”-ish at the moment, lmao, i’d like to be myself. if i know who that person is.

i had a ton of anxiety about how i would be judged or what if i got it entirely wrong… (i rerecorded some parts due to this and i think that may have been a bad decision, because the cuts sound terrible, but anyways). but everyone was so encouraging and just had such a warmhearted reception to it, i don’t think i expected that. i expected mean comments for some reason, idk lol. i also expected way more pushback and cringe because i was talking about sapkowski (who, as we all know, is not very popular, for some reasons more valid than others). so i honestly have no idea where the positivity came from, except your own good souls and goodwill towards me, which is astounding, so thank you.

i want to make more videos and improve. and grow the channel, so it can serve people who are interested in the books. the books deserve something of their own, their own space. i know they’ve had their own space for as long as they’ve existed, but this would be my space for them. if that makes sense. i’m carving out an intentional space for the witcher books, slowly but surely, it will get there with time.

at the same time, i have to balance this with real life. ugh, real life. i might have serious committments this week, but i have no idea... the exact details yet. essentially, committments that may eat up all my time to the point where i’ll have no time for this large crazy video experiment after all.

my name, nimue, is… an emanation of myself. like krzysztof’s katarzyna. a poet’s name.

my person that exists within book pages, the mind, and the web. but not in real life. or rather, not yet in real life. i think they’re stuck somewhere between the screen and the floor.

i’d like to bring them to life, soon. but it will take time, work. i have no idea if i’ll have that kind of time soon. i have no idea what adulthood brings me in terms of commitments. it hurts me to abandon nimue like this. for once, i was able to bargain something for them, release myself, give into the creative flow. i spent a week being them, i think that’s the longest nimue has ever existed in the real world. and now… i have to jump back into my ‘real’ self again. “no fun allowed.” damn it. and i had just tasted that freedom, that creation.

all i know is that i can’t let them die. though i think they’re immortal inside me, after all. and perhaps one day we’ll become the same person. it could happen!

[starrygalaxy04]

"Psycho" {MLQC Lucien x Reader}

Summary : After a bad breakup, you use singing as your coping mechanism. You just happened to be singing a little too loud, and Lucien comes in to check on you and even joins in. (Gavin is an OC, not the MLQC character)

(Song used in this fic is "Psycho" by Taylor Acorn)

(Characters except Reader are not mine, neither is the song!!!)

You just couldn't keep it together. The anger, the pain, it all was desperate to be set free. Gavin had cheated yet again, a serial cheater in the worst way. This was the last straw, and when you said you were done, he spat the harshest words at you. Called you every single insult in the book that every scorned and unwilling-to-take-accountability boyfriend would throw at his girl before she left.

So now you're back home, your heels cast aside as your Spotify blares from your TV. You know you have neighbors, but can't bring yourself to care as you blare your angry playlist, singing and screaming at the top of your lungs. Your ruined mascara has long dried, and your hair is a mess of tangles. You just keep singing, venting out all of those emotions you could never vent any way else.

A knock on the door breaks you out of your singing binge. Surely it was a neighbor who was about to fuss at you to turn the music down. You huff before opening the door, only to find a concerned Lucien standing behind it. His pale eyes are wistful with a hint of concern as he looks down at you.

"Are you alright? You're blaring your angry songs."

Out of everyone you knew, Lucien was the only one who knew just by the song what playlist you were listening to. He had become so accustomed to your music taste that a single song would tell him entirely how you felt. You don't reply, instead moving aside so he can come in.

He walks in, taking in the state of the living room as you shut the door. There's half eaten take out, which you planned on finishing before you began your singing binge. Your shoes rest in two entirely different places, and your jacket is slung over the back of the couch. The TV is still playing songs from a playlist simply titled "ANGY". Yes, something was definitely wrong.

Lucien looks back at you with furrowed brows as the song changes, your eyes glued to the lyrics scrolling on the screen. Its the staple song you picked out for that good-for-nothing man. Lucien looks at the lyrics then to you, waiting for the damn to break. You're silent til the chorus, and then you begin screaming all over again.

"So, let's play a game

Where I throw a little brick through your pretty little face You're easy on the eyes but you're easier to hate An angel's gonna fall if you come around If my name's still on your tongue, then I'll rip it out

Since I'm already the bad guy in your head, I'll hit you with my car and I'll leave you for dead And I'll always like the view from the high road but baby for you, I'll be your psycho I'll be your psycho

I'll be your psycho

I'll be your psycho"

Lucien seems to easily put two and two together, coaxing you into sitting down as you continue to sing, tears streaming down your face as you scream the chorus one last time. It seems to be cathartic for you, so he lets you. The lyrics don't even seem to phase him as he wraps a comforting arm around you.

He doesn't ask questions as the song ends. He doesn't have to. He simply hands you your takeout, making sure you finish eating before getting you a glass of water. He watches you, makes sure you drink it, before he turns down the volume of the music.

"I assume things went for the worst?" He looks almost sad, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

He had been partly your therapist throughout this entire relationship and had been the first one to suggest that if your ex was standing you up he wasn't the right fit. He hadn't pushed you on it, but you know part of him loves and hates to be proven right. He's proud of you for doing the right thing, but is also here to listen to you. Whether its depressed or sad rambling, or just screaming angry songs to get those emotions out.

"Want me to join in?"

His voice is soft, a smile on his lips. You wordlessly nod, changing the song to something he's more familiar with. You both sing along, albeit much more quietly, spending the night in the comfort of his arms. It would take a while for the wounds to heal, but with Lucien around it didn't seem so bad.

[lovelylogans]

question about journalism- as someone aspiring to get into it for college, what are your tips on becoming more educated(?) on it? like skills, prior knowledge, whatnot-? thank you!

oh, this is a great question with a lot of different answers!!!

first of all, i'm going to assume you're in the u.s.—mostly bc that's where most of my experience comes from—and as such, there's a lot of stuff to research/examine bc the field is so vast!!!

if you have a particular sub-sect of journalism that you know you'd love to focus on (things like photo/print/broadcast/radio, but also subdivisions like celebrity, politics, sports, traditional "hard" news, media journalism, etc.) i really encourage you to seek out reading/hearing the work of other journalists! find folks whose work you admire, and why you might like their stuff. is it the content itself? is it their writing style? is it the approach they take? think about all of that as you peruse!

on that note—vary your interests in the journalism you consume! if you read a lot of print, try a podcast (like npr, the daily, the new york times, not technically a podcast but i really like the "under the desk" tiktoks) if you listen to a lot of podcasts, try a documentary, if you watch a lot of documentaries, try print! etc. etc.

oh, also—in and of itself, there's a lot to study about journalism! its effects on history, legal rulings, ethical dilemmas, etc. find what interests you—i almost guarantee you can wrangle a number of papers out of it for assignments! plus, there's certainly been a lot of studies/books about it, which are great resources to learn about what shapes the field today!

if you're not rising immediately into college, i'd say work on your high school publications, if offered. that gave me several practical skills i found pretty helpful stepping into various intro courses, but don't sweat it if you haven't—a lot of those intro courses have tas/labs/times for you to learn and ask questions

since you are going into college—if any of your professors have published books, check them and see if they interest you! look up advanced courses and see what subjects pique your interest! check out your campus publications, and if there are any notable alums who have gone on in the field, and just generally the history of your journalism school.

some (a lot) of journalism schools also have memberships into certain membership/socities—editors, broadcast reporters, etc., along with if you're poc/queer/a woman/etc.—poke around! see what you enjoy! hit up informational meetings!

(also, side note—your college library might have subscriptions to a lot of publications. take advantage! read 'em! watch 'em!)

subscribe to your local news, if you have the financial means! both of your hometown and college town!

there are so, so, so many books and documentaries that have been published—it's really just a question of finding the ones that interest you! here's penguin house's list of must-read books by journalists and goodread's journalism category to get you started.

oh, also, not strictly journalism related, but still important—invest in some variant of self-care. writing silly oneshots was so helpful to me in college when i was covering harder-hitting subjects, a night out with friends in the program to vent about certain goings-ons was both cathartic and a good way to stay updated on things, long walks while going to and from class while catching up on music i wanted to listen to helped clear my head. unsure of what your subject is, but especially for a lot of earlier courses, you might be various beats that have harder-hitting subjects in addition to your typical course load—remember to take care of yourself!