#let's exchange the experience

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

birthday countdown 2024, day 7: bodyswap snippet

it's my birthday next week! and while i'd love to have a new fic to share with you on the day, the fact is i don't have anything ready to post, unless you count the short little notfics i throw out now and then—and if i shine one of those up, it's more of a present for my ao3 subscribers than for y'all.

but i do have a lot of works in progress, so i thought i'd share a couple snippets from my wips here on tumblr!

today, i have for you a bit of mihawk pov from the shuggy bodyswap fic, tentatively titled let's exchange the experience:

Mihawk set the flat of Yoru under Buggy’s chin and lifted, and this pressure he could not use his powers to get away from.  He raised his head up, staring at Mihawk without a trace of fear in his eyes.  He was defiant, and furious, and… amused? Mihawk knew those eyes. Those weren’t Buggy the Clown’s eyes.

(about 1k below the cut)

Bad enough to be associated with Buggy the Clown on paper.  Worse still for the posters, newspapers, and gossip to suggest he was subordinate to that clown.  And to be surrounded by his garish aesthetic at every turn—well, that was beyond words.  It was too awful to be described.  But somehow, being forced to participate in that ridiculous treasure hunt… that was the worst thing yet.

Fortunately, his co-conspirator in this little operation seemed to be fully in agreement with Mihawk.  It was with no small amount of pleasure that he watched Crocodile shove the clown face-first into the carpet, the heel of his shoe grinding down on Buggy’s skull and forcing his nose down and out of sight.

Mihawk briefly fantasized about leaving them like this, about smothering the thorn in his side until it was no longer his problem.  Alas, it wasn’t to be.  As trying as Buggy was—and he was very, very trying—he did have his uses.  When Crocodile lifted his leg to get a better angle for the next round of attacks, Mihawk interceded.

“Remember,” he said, the blade of Yoru all that separated Crocodile’s ire from Buggy’s body, “he still has a purpose to serve.”

Crocodile chewed on his cigar furiously for a moment. “You sure about that?” he asked.  They could still hear the ecstatic cheering echoing from across the island; Buggy’s loyal followers, inspired by his ridiculous declaration of intent to acquire the One Piece.  Almost certainly the biggest waste of time and money Buggy could have thought of for Cross Guild—and with the numbers on his side, there was no way they were getting out of it.  “If I haven’t reached my limit by now, I don’t know where it is.”

“We’ll know when he’s outlived his usefulness,” Mihawk said, staring Crocodile in the eye, “when both of us are too furious to hold back.”

“’Ppreciate… your restraint…” Buggy mumbled around a mouthful of bloody carpet, struggling to get to his knees.

Mihawk had Yoru’s edge against his neck in an instant.  “Don’t sass me, clown,” he said, walking a slow circle around him, until he was at Buggy’s back and by Crocodile’s side.  “I’m not advocating for your life here—just against your death.”

“The nuances are beyond his comprehension, I suspect,” Crocodile muttered under his breath, giving one last kick to the clown that knocked him flat on his stomach again.  “But you’re right,” he said, acknowledging Mihawk’s point.  “It’s too early to give in to such petty impulses.  And besides… if I’m to have any hope of my plans coming to fruition, this childish little venture may provide a decent smokescreen.”

Buggy made another muffled comment, but he seemed to have given up on trying to stand.  His shoulders shook as he sniffled—ugh, was he going to start crying again?  The emotionality repulsed Mihawk, but he wasn’t about to withdraw.  Not until he was certain the clown had conceded—and what had become clear today was that, so long as he was making smart comments, he hadn’t fully given up.  Buggy’s shoulders went stiff, then spasmed, and Mihawk realized he’d given the clown too much credit.  It was only a sneeze.

On the far side of the room, the former senior officers of Buggy’s Delivery, now occupying reduced positions in Cross Guild, went silent.  They exchanged indecipherable looks, then turned as one to stare at Buggy.

Buggy pushed himself up on his elbows, saying, “Oh, ow, that smarts.  Did things really need to come to this?  Surely…” He turned his head and froze, that bulbous nose not half an inch from Yoru’s blade.  His eyes flicked up to meet Mihawk’s, and there was something wrong about them.  “Surely, Hawkeyes, we could have come to some kind of an understanding without things getting… violent.”

“You’re the one undermining the understanding we already had in place, clown,” Crocodile griped, stepping forward and squatting down to talk to Buggy on his level.  Raising his golden hook to press against Buggy’s cheek, he slid it back into his hair and got the hook thoroughly tangled there.  He yanked, to pull Buggy’s head back, and said, “How quickly you forget—” before his words fell away.

Because Buggy’s head had not been pulled back; his hair was still tangled around Crocodile’s hook, but it was a free-floating piece, chopped free by Buggy’s Devil Fruit powers.  And his eyes…

Mihawk set the flat of Yoru under Buggy’s chin and lifted, and this pressure he could not use his powers to get away from.  He raised his head up, staring at Mihawk without a trace of fear in his eyes.  He was defiant, and furious, and… amused?

Mihawk knew those eyes.

Those weren’t Buggy the Clown’s eyes.

“I was wrong,” he said to Crocodile, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him away from the impossible thing before them.  “You should have killed him.”

“Oh?”  Crocodile glanced between Mihawk and the blue-haired man on the floor.  “Why the change of heart, Hawkeyes?”

“That isn’t Buggy the Clown,” he said.

They watched as the man carefully got to his knees and turned to face them.  He sat before Mihawk and Crocodile in a casual, sprawling posture that still managed to radiate unbelievable power.  His jaw shifted, and without breaking eye contact he spat out a broken tooth.  “Gee,” the man with Red-Haired Shanks’ fearless eyes asked, voice almost cheery, “what gave me away?”

[theprogressivesadist]

mood

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

Drawing turtle tots? Very fun!

Drawing a turtle tot, drawing turtle tots? Fun²!

(First scene from this animatic, but as a GIF. Because apparently, I just really like making GIFs. And a few more under the cut too, because why not? I may have a GIF problem, but the only victim is my productivity, so it's fiiiine)

I don't know real sword choreography, but Leo can be flashy and twirl it around like he's in the color guard if he wants to, right?

I imagine most of their arguments started because Raph was concerned, Leo either tried blowing him off or snapped back at him, and things just sort of escalated from there. Seeing these boys angry makes me sad. Donnie and Mikey probably felt that same way, too.

This was actually the first scene I drew. Sometimes, you just get a vision so strong in your head that you have to put it on paper (... or tablet?) immediately. This was that scene for me, and everything else sort of just started to fall in place around it.

[sp1d3yp4rk]

here’s a bonus sketch of Joel since he deserves some spotlight

[ghostoffuturespast]

Honestly, getting real tired carrying and supporting other folks around here when most of them aren't returning the favor...

[kyouka-supremacy]

(╥﹏╥)

[baejax-the-great]

Archive-locking the fics that YOU WROTE and are thus 100% yours to decide what to do with 'hurting people' is so silly tbh. Skill issue on their part. Wish those people could be normal about the amazing fics that writers like you put out & be understanding or at the very least respectful of the choices that writers make about how and where they make their fics available. Especially in light of recent ai training theft and nonsense & all that.

I hope this doesn't sour the fic writing & sharing experience for you too much. I love your writing & think you're very talented & skilled!

There seem to be dual attitudes I'm coming up against recently (and obviously these are not held by everyone, I don't even know that they are held by a majority, but they are certainly held by a plurality).

The first is that authors should be grateful that readers deign to read what they put out there. I think this stems from the "content creation" mentality and the idea that everyone who posts things wants as massive as an audience as possible (for monetization purposes which... isn't a thing in fanfic). I think this mindset also leads to readers demanding that people write specific tropes/pairings/whatever, or threatening basically to take their business elsewhere. "Nobody will read unless you do [X]." 1. Not true and 2. Okay, you weren't my audience.

(I also think authors circulating those posts about how badly they want comments/kudos feeds this mentality of readers doing authors a favor by even clicking on the fic. "Wow, if people are so desperate for attention, then mine must be worth an awful lot!")

Fanfic ain't a business, and I write for myself. Readers choosing to read my work isn't a privilege or an honor they are bestowing upon me (nor are comments for that matter), just as me posting my writing where they can see it isn't a privilege or an honor for them. We are both engaging in hobbies and a love of some media, and sometimes we will overlap and connect and sometimes we won't. Readers aren't reading out of altruism for attention-starved authors, and authors aren't writing out of altruism for content-hungry readers.

And there are those who will read these paragraphs above and think to themselves "wow, what an ungrateful author," and that's exactly the attitude I'm talking about. Don't get me wrong, it's delightful and rewarding to receive comments on fics and chat with people about Blorbo and the Situations. But it should be delightful from both sides of the exchange, or why the hell are we doing this? If I'm meant to be grateful for every commenter who jumps into my inbox, then every commenter in my inbox better be grateful for me, and I can tell you right now there is a population who is not. There is a population who sees me as a service provider for their entertainment, and whatever form I take in their brain, it is not shaped like a full person.

This attitude also leads to people thinking that things like lorefm are no big deal. Don't I want to get my work in front of more eyeballs (or ears)? Don't I want to broaden my audience? And once I put my work out there for readers to see, should I be shocked (or express any negative emotions at all) when someone plagiarizes/scrapes it for AI/demands updates rudely/reads it on a monetized youtube channel/binds it and sells it for profit?

The other idea I've been coming up against is almost the opposite of this--that because some readers form attachments to fic, deleting that fic (or even archive-locking it!) is actively harming those readers. Sure, they can't be bothered to hit the download button or get an AO3 account, but that's no reason not to think of these strangers first before doing what I want with my creative output.

Yall, life is ephemeral. There are things we will see and enjoy and never find again for one reason or another, and it's not harm being done to us, it's just the nature of existence. Having an emotional reaction to something does not give you any sort of ownership over that thing. Artists are allowed to change their minds about whether they want that art in the wild, particularly given that it's free. Maybe it's because I utilize the library a lot, but reading a book and then losing access to that book is not a crime against you, it's just a normal thing that happens. If you read something and it means that much to you, there are ways to avoid losing it (download it).

Seeing this particular attitude extend out to "not making your fic available for as many people to read as possible is harming them" is beyond bizarre. If I woke up tomorrow and deleted everything I have ever written, there would still be thousands upon thousands upon thousands of beautiful, emotional, meaningful fics out there for people to read. They would lack for nothing. Would some people be upset? Probably. Would I be hurting them? No, not really.

Sometimes people have negative emotions because of our actions, but that doesn't mean we did anything to them. This is one of those times.

Lastly, this AI and everything else bullshit really has taken a toll on my enthusiasm for posting my work. It's one thing for companies to try to pillage every thought, every word, every stroke of a pen or paintbrush to enrich themselves while actively making the planet an unbearable and inhospitable place to live, it's another when fellow fans are telling you that "Whelp that's just life, what did you expect, give us your content anyway or you're a bad person and if you complain, then I'll be taking my business elsewhere, you sensitive, entitled creative, lol."

[xaeydnquartz]

....I dont know about you guys...

But that was the best thing and i loved every second!!!!

I know some of the chat was getting really upset, but come on guys that was absolutely amazing, and im so glad it happened MVP goes to Fearne and FCG though, that's for sure ....Can we experience that again please?...

xD rofl

[mf-headcannontap]

MARVEL Headcannon #3:

Steve Rogers is jealous of Carol Danvers for one reason and one reason only.

She and Bucky get along TOO well. They both have similar stories involving abduction, amnesia, brainwashing, and fighting for the wrong side. So when those two met and hit it off well, he definitely got jealous, especially since it took a while for Bucky to open up to him, and he opened up pretty quickly to Carol after briefly swapping stories, and then going in depth.

Anyway, jealousy aside, Steve and Carol definitely have a friendly but petty Army vs. Air Force Captain rivalry that everyone finds funny.

[cherryjuicegf]

pspsps mutuals drop your letterboxd

[plushri-moved]

Nagata Kabi's work is so meaningful to me. Even people I liked and trusted, who I had confided in that I struggled for years with suicidal ideation, couldn't understand how I've never dated. Like not having kissed someone by the time you're in your twenties is SUCH a big deal not even spending years wanting and attempting to end your own life explains it.

Anyway, I just really appreciate Nagata Kabi for putting her story out there.

[citrusai]

[peachmortem]

[id in alt]

my piece for @pumpkajelly of their oc scyphoz :]

done as part of @mesevents halloween gift exchange !!! it was incredibly fun to make this and im so happy with how it turned out :D

[firstprincewrites]

hi friends! here's my day 7 contribution to @thebrownstone's firstprince week. the prompt is forgotten memories. this is part 1 of a 3 chapter story. see you tomorrow for chapter 2!

Alone at the lake house a couple of days prior to their wedding, Alex is surprised by a late night delivery. He's on edge until he sees the all too familiar handwriting riddling a confusing yet exciting note. Soon, Alex learns that Henry, his soon to be husband, has sent him a box full of journals, inviting him to dive inside the very insides of his mind. Read to find out how Henry feels during the biggest events in their relationship.

[autumnlassitude]

Hello, I’ve made a playlist for my darling bhaalspawn Felix, please clap.

[impervicus]

closed starter ft. giovanni gagliardi / @secondhnd​​

she knew it wasn’t technically a band rehearsal day but bowie felt like she hadn’t seen gio much lately so she had to go visit him. he was fine, bowie knew he was fine because if she wasn’t, she would have found out pretty quickly. but outside of the band, she felt really close to her fellow bandmates. so in their best interest, she always wanted to make sure they were okay. it’s what a good lead singer and creator of the band would do right? 

she knocked on the door, waiting for gio to answer. she was fairly certain he was home, but maybe he had gone out elsewhere. she tended to forget to actually text people before showing up to their places, maybe it was because she thought she had everyone’s schedules memorized, or that she thought she really knew them enough to predict when they would or wouldn’t be home. guess they’d find out, right?