#never inserting paragraph breaks

[mrsshabana]

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary After reaching your breaking point you decide to do some digging to learn about Gyutaro's past. But once you do, everything changes and your relationship with the ghost boy will never be the same. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, gore, violence, body horror (?) ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.2k words.

༺ Art ༻

⇢ Chapter one ⇢ Chapter two ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist

You've had enough.

What happened when Mitsuri was over was your last straw. You tried to confront Gyutaro after she left, but yet again he refused to show himself. You don't know what his problem is but you're fed up with his antics.

So the next afternoon you decide to go to the local library to do some research away from the ghost boy's prying eyes.

Once there you begin looking for any records on the house. Anything at all that might talk about what happened there with Gyutaro. But you come up empty-handed, even when you try searching his name.

It's not until you ask the librarian for assistance that you actually get somewhere.

"So you're the one that moved into that old house," she mumbles as she looks through documents in a large filing cabinet, "It's a shame what happened there..." she trails off.

Finally, she finds what she was looking for, "Here you go sweetie, this should give you all the information you need," she says with a somber smile as she hands you a newspaper dated from June 2nd, 2004.

"Thank you!" You excitedly take the newspaper and make yourself comfortable at a table before reading it.

Large letters heading the front page read, "Local Teen Killed in Hit and Run Accident"

You feel a shiver go down your spine as you read the title. Almost afraid to continue the article for what you might find, but you push on.

"Gyutaro Shabana, a recent 19-year-old Graduate of Daikoku Academy, was killed yesterday afternoon in a hit and run accident. Shabana was playing with his little sister, Ume, in front of their family home when he was struck by an unidentified vehicle. The driver fled and has not been identified. Shabana died at the scene."

Below the first paragraph is a photo of Gyutaro when he was alive, smiling in what appears to be a graduation photo.

"Mrs. Hisa, a neighbor who witnessed the gruesome crime, had this to say, "Gyutaro was on the sidewalk drawing chalk with little Ume like any other night. When this truck sped up and drove over the curb! It looked like he pushed the little girl away, thank god she survived. But poor Gyutaro, I ran over to try and help... he was covered in blood after the truck sped off. There was nothing we could do."

Another photo is inserted here, this time a photo from the crime scene. It depicts a colorful children's drawing on the sidewalk, but it's covered in blood.

"Paramedics arrived on scene but were unable to save the boy. Shabana is survived by his sister (6), mother, and father. If you have any information regarding the driver that killed Shabana please call 555-0661."

The old newspaper trembles in your hands as you finish reading the violent recount of Gyutaro's death.

Before you came here you were angry towards him but now you don't know how to feel. Of course, his past isn't an excuse for his behavior. But you still can't help but feel sorry for him.

He was so young. And he left behind his family, including his little sister who he seemed to be close to. You can't imagine the pain she went through - seeing her older brother die right in front of her eyes. And at such a young age too.

Gyutaro had his whole life ahead of him, but it was snatched away from him due to someone else's recklessness. And according to this article, the driver who hit Gyutaro was never found. For all you know, they could be living a happy life, while the Shabana family had their lives shattered.

It's not fair.

After spending hours at the library you finally go home. You know Gyutaro is around by the chill air that seems to travel around the room.

Despite you trying to keep your cool, Gyutaro can sense that something is off.

"Y/N?" he finally shows himself, "The hell is up with you?"

When you look at his face, all of the emotions you felt while reading that article hit you again. The sadness, the anger, the yearning to comfort him.

You don't need to say anything for him to know what happened, he can tell just by looking at your face.

"I don't need your pity," he rasps.

"Gyutaro, I'm sorry-"

"Save it!" he shouts, "What happened to me is none of your goddamn business."

His voice is harsh, but his watery eyes give away what he's feeling inside as the painful memories of that day return.

June 1st, 2004 was the day he got accepted into University with plans of majoring in marine biology. His parents were so proud of him. And he was so proud of himself, he felt like he was finally on the right track. All he ever wanted was to make his family proud.

That afternoon, he went outside to play with his little sister. There weren't many kids around her age in the neighborhood, so he would often play with her. He didn't have many friends himself, so he didn't mind. Ume was the only friend he needed.

They were drawing pictures on the sidewalk in front of their house.

"Look, it's us!" his sister chimes as she points to two stick figures. One has long white hair and the other has black spots on its face.

"Heh, that looks just like me! Who taught you to draw like that?" Gyutaro smiles.

"Onii-chan!" Ume chirps as she crawls into her big brother's arms and gives him a hug.

Hugging his little sister was the last happy moment he had.

Gyutaro saw something barreling towards them and he instinctually pushed his sister away.

It was a miracle he didn't die instantly.

Surprisingly he doesn't remember the pain he felt as blood filled his lungs and spilled out of his mouth and nose.

All he remembers is Ume's screams.

A tear rolls down Gyutaro's cheek as he recalls the memory.

"Look, I've been trapped in this house for 20 years," he mutters, "I just wanted to have a little fun. But I know it was wrong... and I'm sorry. You won't have to worry about me coming around anymore."

And with that final statement, he disappears.

No matter how much you plea and say you're not angry with him, he doesn't return.

It really begins to sink in after a few days pass and there's no sign of Gyutaro. You talk to the air, hoping that he can hear you, but to no avail.

You thought ridding your home of the ghost boy would have made your life easier, but all you can think about is how much you miss him. Sure he was aggravating at times but he had a playfulness about him that brightened up your home despite him being a ghost.

He was also super horny all the time. And you pretended to hate it, but deep down you enjoyed it. For the first time in your life, someone was feral for you and it felt good to be desired like that.

It's clear now that his intentions were never bad. He just got so excited when you moved in that he couldn't help himself. Being isolated for twenty years makes you forget how to act around a girl you're crushing on.

You miss him. All you want to do is bring comfort to him in the afterlife but no matter how hard you try he still doesn't appear.

But you have a devious idea. If anything can draw him out of hiding it would be this.

First, you rid yourself of your clothes, and then you go into your bedroom and dig out those old porn magazines you found when you first moved in.

You grab one that seems less abused than the others, and sit on your bed with your back rested against the headboard. Making sure to spread your legs slightly.

The lights in the room begin to flicker and the temperature decreases until you can see your breath in the air.

You knew he couldn't resist the temptation.

"H-Hey!" he shouts, "I told you not to touch my shit!" He snatches the porno out of your hands.

He's just putting on a tough act, pretending to only care about the magazine. But his cheeks are flushed pink and he can't help but glance at your body.

"Sorry, I thought you wouldn't mind if I used them," you blush, covering your body with your hands as the cold hair surrounding him gives you goosebumps.

"Well um, I guess I don't mind as long as you don't crease the pages," he says shyly, still trying not to stare.

"Thanks, I promise I won't," you smile and take the magazine back.

He watches in awe as you begin to touch yourself while looking through the magazine. So distracted by the scene in front of him that he just sits there staring like a weirdo, not speaking or moving an inch.

"Uh, earth to Gyutaro?"

"Wh-what?" he clears his throat, "Oh heh, sorry I'll give you your privacy." He disappears into thin air but you know he's still there.

Honestly, it was cute seeing him get so flustered when before he acted so cocky. Now that you're alone and he can't manipulate you as easily, he melts from your attention. Finally, you can see through the act.

You continue to touch yourself, moaning softly and putting on a show for him. It's obvious he didn't actually leave as you can feel the cold air moving around you. Maybe he's secretly pleasuring himself too.

The magazine is just a prop at this point, the only reason you're so wet is because you know Gyutaro is watching.

Ditching the magazine, you get more comfortable and lay on your back. Spreading your legs wider to allow better access for your fingers and a better view for Gyutaro.

You pick up the pace, rubbing your clit and rolling your hips. Gyutaro feels like he's gonna fucking lose it when he sees your tight walls fluttering around nothing, but he tries to control himself. However, you do feel the cold air shift above you.

"Ah," you moan softly, "I wish someone was inside of me right now..."

Almost instantly Gyutaro manifests. But you're surprised to see he's already positioned on top of you, his aching cock already lined up to your entrance.

Your eyes meet, his glowing inhuman orbs scream of loneliness - begging for your affection.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him in for a kiss. Softly pressing your lips against his. His skin is cool to the touch and leaves a tingling sensation on your body.

Gyutaro happily accepts the kiss and slowly slides into you at the same time.

You gasp, feeling the unusual coldness enter you. It feels good but also so unnatural at the same time.

"Holy shit, you're tight," he groans with a big smile on his face.

Finally, after 20 years of death, Gyutaro has lost his virginity.

Getting excited, he begins to thrust quickly and sporadically. The sensation is indescribable. It's like he's able to push deeper than he should, forcing his semi-physical cock to literally go through you when he thrusts too hard.

He glides through your gummy walls, pushes past your cervix, and into your womb. It causes your body to tremble and your legs to give out. But Gyutaro doesn't mind, he keeps a firm grip on you as he fucks you senseless.

"Ngh Y/N - your guts feel so good," he groans, pushing further into uncharted areas of your body.

You can't even manage a proper response as you get your insides rearranged. "G-Gyu! Pl-ease, ah-ah!"

"H-Hurry up and cum already," he growls, "Feels too good!"

He clenches his eyes shut, trying desperately to hold it in. But he just can't help it, being more than balls deep in your guts is too much for him to handle. And he's left emptying his load inside of you.

You can't stop your body from climaxing with him as you feel the ice-cold sting as the sticky white substance fills your insides. Shooting all throughout your body as each splatter causes a wave of pleasure. It feels like ice melting inside of you as you lay there in pure bliss.

"Holy shit," Gyutaro mumbles as his body begins to glow, "I think I'm ascending!"

"Wh-what?!" your eyes widen and you're brought out of the blissful state you were in, "Are you serious?!"

"Haha, no," he laughs as his skin returns to normal, "I'm just fucking with you."

You roll your eyes and punch his shoulder but your hand goes right through him.

"You only touch me when I want you to touch me," he snickers, back to his usual mischievous behavior. But honestly, you can't even be mad. You're just happy to have him back. "You have a lot to learn about me, Y/N," he smirks.

"I should have known better," you smile and open your arms, wanting to hug him, "I missed you, Gyutaro."

He allows it and hugs you tightly, falling back onto the bed with you. It dawns on him that this is the first hug he's felt in 20 years.

"I ain't going anywhere, ok?" he smiles softly, nuzzling into your hair, "You're stuck with me from now on."

[kingdoms-and-empires]

The King's Hound Review

I recently had to go travel and read a few works that I never got around to reading but was interested in.

PLEASE REMEMBER THIS REVIEW IS DONE BY ME AS A READER AND IS MY OWN OPINION.

This means I will review in accordance to my own tastes, how the game caters to me, and what I feel. Do not take my word as gospel, what I may not be interested in or dislike, may be what YOU are interested and love!!!

@the-kingshound

Synopsis:

You are the King’s spouse, his right and left hand, the unstoppable executor of his will. Your name is whispered by enemies and allies with fear and respect alike, some says it’s your arm that bears the weight of the entire kingdom.

They call you the King’s hound. It started as a way to taunt you but it’s not that far away from the truth. Your loyalty is blind, your devotion absolute. The King’s vision is your vision.

Your name will forever mark history alongside theirs.

But for now, you are being shipped to your betrothed, alone and powerless on your way to Camelot.

As the seventh child of the Venegard House, you’ve always had little to look forward to other than an arranged marriage to achieve a political alliance.

That’s exactly why, after your parents lost the rebellion against King Arthur, you were the one sent to him as a sign of newfound peace.

You don’t know what awaits you now, but after you Camelot will never be the same.

Review:

The Good: The project is 18+, and the writing is very well done. It just feels quality. Plus the UI and and dark background are classy. The game is Twine, so you get the save functions of Twine and all that jazz. Anyways, descriptions are well done, the worldbuilding is grounded and helps form the politics in-game. It's thought-out and noticeable. The player customization goes hard and you even get the option to play mute! In The King's Hound, you also find a game that provides the LGBTQ+ demographic and FemMC playing community a welcoming and acknowledging home. The descriptions of the fight scenes and battles (like action set pieces) are good and don't leave you scratching your head. The transitions between paragraphs and pages happen naturally and without breaking pace, which shows the talent of a writer that considers their audience. Also, in regards to the King Arthur mythos and worldbuilding done by the author, i just really appreciate the fact that Camelot is Welsh.

It just gives me an idea of how much the author researched or cares about the mythos to give that respect of origin for the story. I had problems with how King Arthur was being super nice at first, but the author recently stated in a post that Arthur was acting in such a manner because he is deliberately trying to be the opposite of King Uther!

And that in the future, the work will offer more text to reveal that to us, the player.

The Bad: I wouldve liked being able to marry a cousin, niece, sister, or even daughter of King Arthur (or genderbender him) but that is literally my only complaint as a straight dude tryna self insert. The author tells you explicitly that you are marrying the king. If the author decides not to, as is their right and vision, I have no problem whatsoever. I still think the work is well written, and has many elements that i personally fuck with (low fantasy, grounded narrative, adult themes) The fact that i wish the author could change this, is only because i like the work so much. Instead, in this playthrough King Arthur will find that the MC practices

The Ugly: The MAP. But that's only because my history buff mind thinks of the British Isle when hearing these names and when i saw the map it physically gave me whiplash. But youre making your own version of the story, so bully!

The Aftermath: I know this game isnt catered towards me as a straight dude. It is a proud queer game with quality writing, that'd also do really well for the FemMC readers. I would recommend this game to anyone who wants a low fantasy medieval setting, with good writing, and grounded narratives that isn't a straight dude's traditional power fantasy.

Next playthrough, ima be a mute straight girl thatll hoe around King Arthur's court out of sheer spite

^Marci from Dota: Dragon Blood

[physalian]

Humanizing Your Characters (And Why You Should)

To humanize a character is not to contort an irredeemable villain into the warped funhouse mirror reflection of a hero in the last 30 seconds to gain “narrative subversion” points. To humanize is not to give said villain a tragic backstory that validates every bad choice they make in attempt to provide nuance where it does not deserve to be.

To humanize a character, villain or otherwise, is to make them flawed. Scuff them up, give them narrative birthmarks and scars and imperfections. Whether it’s your hero, their love interest, the comic relief, the mentor, the villain, the rival, these little narrative details serve to make all your literary babies better.

Why should you humanize your characters?

To do this means to write in details beyond those that service the plot, or the themes, or the motifs, morals, foreshadowing, or story. These might be (and usually are) entirely unimportant in the grand scheme of things. So, if I wrote lengthy diatribes on pacing and why every detail must matter, and character descriptions and thematic importance, why am I now suggesting go free-for-all on the fluff?

Just like real people have quirks and tics and beliefs and pet peeves that serve our no greater purpose, so should fictional people. Your average reader doesn’t have the foggiest idea what literary devices are beyond metaphor, simile foreshadowing, and anecdote, but they can tell when the author is using motif and theme and all the syntactical marvels because it reads that much richer, even if they can’t pinpoint why.

And, for shipping fodder, these tiny little details are what help your audience fall in love with the character. It doesn’t even have to be in a book – Taylor Swift (whether you like her or not) never fills her music with sexual innuendo or going clubbing. She tells stories filled with human details like dancing in the refrigerator light. People can simultaneously relate to these very specific and vivid experiences, and say “not that exactly, but man this reminds me of…” and that’s (part of) the reason her music is so popular.

What kinds of narratives need these details?

All of them. Visual media, audio, written, stage play. Now, to what degree and excess you apply these details depends on your tone, intended audience, and writing style. If your style of writing is introspection heavy, noir character drama, you might go pretty heavy on the character design.

But even if you’re writing a kids book with a scant few paragraphs of setting descriptors and internal narration, or you’re drawing a comic book – if you have characters you want people to care about, do this.

Animators, particularly, are very adept at humanizing non-human characters, because, unlike live acting, every single stroke of the pen is there with intent. They use their own reflections for facial references, record their own movements to draw a dance, and insert little bits of themselves into signature character poses so you know that *that* animator did this one.

How to humanize your characters.

I’m going to break this down into a couple sections: Costume/wardrobe, personality, beliefs/behavior/superstitions, haptics/proxemics/kinesics, and voice. They will all overlap and the sheer variety and possibilities are way too broad for me to capture every facet.

Costumes and Wardrobe

In the film Fellowship of the Ring, there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where, after Boromir is slain by the Uruk-Hai, Aragorn takes Boromir’s Gondorian vambraces to wear in his honor, and in honor of their shared country. He wears them the rest of the trilogy. The editing pays no extra attention to them beyond a split second of Aragorn tightening the straps, it never lingers on them, never reminds you that they’re there, but they kept it in nonetheless. His actor also included a hunting bow that didn't exist in the book because he's a roamer, a ranger, and needs to be able to feed himself, along with a couple other survival tools.

Aragorn wears plenty of other symbolic bits of costume – the light of the Evenstar we see constantly from Arwen, the Lothlorien green cloaks shared by the entire Fellowship, his re-forged sword and eventual full Gondorian regalia, but all those are Epic Movie Moments that serve a thematic purpose.

Taking the vambraces is just a small, otherwise insignificant character moment, a choice made for no other reason than that’s what this character would do. That’s what makes him human, not an archetype.

When you’re writing these details and can’t rely on sneaking them into films, you have to work a little harder to remind your audience that they exist, but not too often. A detail shifts from “human” to “plot point” when it starts to serve a purpose to the themes and story.

Inconsequentiality might be how a character ties, or doesn’t tie their shoelaces, because they just can’t be bothered so they remain permanent knots and tripping hazards. It might be a throw-away line about how they refuse to wear shorts and strictly stick to long pants because they don’t like showing off their legs. It might be perpetually greasy hair from constantly running their fingers through it with stress, or self-soothing. A necklace they fidget with, or a ring, a belt they never bother to replace even though they should, a pair of lucky socks.

Resist the urge to make it more meaningful than “this is just how they are”. If I’m using the untied shoelaces example – in Spiderverse, this became a part of the story’s themes, motifs, and foreshadowing, and doesn’t count. Which isn’t bad! It’s just not what I’m talking about.

Personality

In How to Train Your Dragon, Toothless does not speak. All his personality comes from how he moves, the noises he makes, and the expressions on his face. There’s moments, like in the finale, when his prosthetic has burned off and Hiccup tells him to hold on for a little bit longer, and you can clearly see on his face that he’s deeply uncertain about his ability to do so. It’s almost off the screen, another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. Or the beat of hesitation before he lets Hiccup touch him in the Forbidden Friendship scene. Or the irritated noise he makes when he’s impatiently waiting for Hiccup to stop chatting with his dad because they have a giant dragon to murder. Or when he slaps Hiccup with his ear fin for flying them into a rock spire.

None of those details *needed* to exist to endear you to his character or to serve the scenes they’re in. The scenes would carry on just fine without them. He’s a fictional dragon, yes, but these details make him real.

Other personality tics you could include might be a character who gets frustrated with tedious things very quickly and starts making little inteligible curses under their breath. Or how they giggle when they’re excited and start bouncing on their toes. Maybe they have a tic where they snap their fingers when they’re concentrating, trying to will an idea into existence. Or they stick their tongue out while they work and get embarrassed when another character calls them on it. They roll around in their sleep, steal blankets, drool, leave dishes in the sink or are neurotic with how things must be organized. They have one CD in their car, and actually use that CD player instead of the phone jack or Bluetooth. They sing in the shower, while they cook, or while they do homework, no matter how grating their voice.

They like the smell of new shoes or Sharpies. They hate the texture of suede or velvet or sticky residues. They never pick their socks up. They hate the overhead light in their room and use 50 lamps instead. They hate turning into oncoming traffic or don’t trust their backup camera. They collect Funko Pops and insist there’s always room for more.

And about a million others.

Beliefs, Behaviors, and Superstitions

*If you happen to be writing a story where superstitions have merit, maybe skip this one.* Usually, inevitably, these evolve into character centerpieces and I can’t actually think of one off the top of my head that doesn’t become this beyond the ones we all know. A few comedic examples do come to mind:

The Magic Conch in “Club Spongebob” and the sea-bear-proof dirt circle in “The Camping Episode”

Dean Winchester’s fear and panic-driven actions in “Yellow Fever” and “Sam, Interrupted”

The references to the trolls that steal left-foot socks in How to Train Your Dragon

I’m not a fan of wasting time writing a religious character doing their religious thing when Plot Is Happening, but smaller things are what I’m talking about. Like them wearing a cross/rosary and touching it when they’re nervous. Having a specific off-beat prayer, saying, or expression because they don’t believe in cursing.

The classic ones like black cats, ladders, broken mirrors, salt, sidewalk cracks can all be funny. Athletes have plenty, too, and some of them, particularly in baseball culture, are a bit ridiculous. Not washing socks or uniforms, having a team idol they donate Double Bubble to and also rub their toes. A specific workout routine, diet, team morale dance.

Other things, too. A character who’s afraid to go back downstairs once the lights are off, or fear the basement or the backyard shed. Or they’re really put-off by this old family photo for no reason other than how glassy their eyes look and it’s creepy. They like crystals, dreamcatchers, star signs, tarot, or they absolutely do not under any circumstances.

They believe in all the tried and true ways of predicting the weather like a grizzled old sailor. They believe in ghosts, vampires, werewolves, witches, skinwalkers, doppelgangers, fairies. They talk to the cat statue in their kitchen and named it Fudge Pop. They whisper to the spirit that possessed the fridge so it stops making all that racket, and half the time, it works every time. They wear yellow for good luck or carry a rabbit’s foot. They’re not religious at all but still throw prayers out to whoever’s listening because, you know, just in case. They sit by their window sill and talk to the moon and the stars and pretend like they’re in a music video when they’re driving through the city in the rain.

Haptics, Proxemics, and Kinesics

These are, for all you non-communication and psych majors out there, touch and physical contact, how they move, and how they move around other people.

Behold, your shipping fodder.

Two shining examples of proxemics in action are the famous “close talker” episode of Seinfeld (of which every communication major has been subjected to) and Castiel’s not understanding of personal space (and human chronemic habits) in Supernatural.

These are how a character walks, if they’re flat-footed, clumsy, or tip-toers. If they make a racket or constantly spook the other characters. If they fidget or can’t sit still in a seat for five seconds, if they like to sit backwards or upside down. How they touch themselves, if they do a lot of self-soothing maneuvers (hugging themselves, rubbing their arms, touching their face, drawing their knees up, holding their neck, etc) or if they don’t do any self-soothing at all.

This is how they shake hands, if they dance while they cook or work. It’s how much space they let themselves take up, if they man-spread or keep their limbs in closer. How close they stand to others or how far. If they let themselves be touched at all, or if they always have their skin covered. If they always have their back to a wall,  or are always making sure they know where the nearest exit is. If they make grand gestures when they talk and give directions. If they flinch from pats on the back or raised hands. If they lean away from loud voices or project their own. If they use their height to their advantage when arguing, puff their chest, square their shoulders, put their hands on their hips, or point fingers in accusation.

If they touch other characters as they pass by. If they’re huggers or victims of falling asleep on or near their comrades. If they must sleep facing the door, or with something solid behind them. If they can sleep in the middle of a party wholly uncaring. If they sleepwalk, sleeptalk, migrate across the bed to cuddle whoever’s nearest with no idea they’re doing it.

If they like to be held or like to hold others. If they hate being picked up and slung around or are touch-starved for it. If they like their space and stick to it or are more than happy to share.

Do they walk with grace, head held high and back straight? Or are they hunched over, head hung, watching their feet? Are they meanderers or speed-walkers? Do they cross their arms in front or lace their hands behind them? Do they bow to authority or meet that gaze head on?

I have heard that Prince Zuko, in Last Airbender, is usually drawn sleeping with his bad ear down when he doesn’t feel safe, like on his warship or anywhere in the Fire Nation, or on the road. He’s drawn on his other side once he joins the Gaang. In Dead Man’s Chest, just before Davy Jones drives the Flying Dutchman under the waves, two tentacles curl up and around the brim of his hat to keep it from blowing off in the water.

When they fight, do they attack first, or defend first? Do they touch other characters’ hair? Share makeup, share clothes? Touch their faces with boops or bonks or nuzzles and eskimo kisses? Do they crack their knuckles and necks and knees?

Do they stare in baffled curiosity at all the other characters wholly comfortable in each other's spaces because they can’t, won’t, or don’t see the point in all this nonsense? Do they say they’re happy on the outside, but are betrayed by their body language?

Voice

Whether or not to write an accent is entirely up to you. Books like Their Eyes Were Watching God writes dialogue in a vernacular specific to its characters. Westerners and southerners tend to be written with the southern drawl or dialect, ripe with stereotypical contractions. Be advised, however, that in attempt to write an accent to give your character depth, you could be instead turning off your audience who doesn’t have energy to decipher what they’re saying, or you went and wrote a racist stereotype.

Voice isn’t just accent and dialect, nor is it how it sounds, which falls more solidly under useful character descriptions. Voice for the sake of humanizing your characters concerns how they talk, how they convey their thoughts, and how they become distinct from other characters in dialogue and narration.

If you’re writing a narrative that hops heads and don’t want to include a big banner to indicate who’s talking at any given time, this is where voice matters. It is, I think, the least appreciated of all the possible traits to pay attention to.

First person narrators have the most flexibility here because the audience is zero degrees removed from their first-hand experiences. Their personality comes through sharply in how they describe things and what they pay attention to.

But it’s also in what similes and metaphors they use. I read a book that had an average (allegedly straight) male narrator going off and describing colors with types of flowers, some I had to look up because I just don’t know those off the top of my head. My immediate thought was either this character is a poorly written gay, or he’s a florist. Neither (allegedly), the writer was just being too specific.

Do they have crutch words they use? like, um, actually, so…, uh

Or repeat exclamations specific to them? yikes, yowzers, jeepers, jinkies, zoinks, balls, beans, d’oh!

Or idioms they’re fond of? Like a bat out of hell. Snowball’s chance.

Do they stutter when they’re nervous? Do they lose their train of thought and bounce around, losing other characters in the process? Do they have a non-Christian god they pray to and say something other than “thank God”? Are they from another country, culture, time period, realm, or planet with their own gods, beliefs, and idioms?

When they describe settings, how flowery is the language? Would this grizzled war hero use flowery language? How would he or she describe the color pink, versus a PTA mom? Do they use only a generic “blue, green, red” or do they really pay attention with “aquamarine, teal, emerald, viridian, vermillion, rose, ruby”?

How do this character’s hobbies affect how well they can describe dance moves, painting styles, car models, music genres?

This mostly matters when you’re head-hopping and the voice of the narrator serves to be more distinct, otherwise, what’s the point of head-hopping? Just use third-person omniscient.

If you really want to go wild, give a specific narrator unique syntax. Maybe one character is the ghost of Oscar Wild with never-ending run-on sentences. Just be sure to not go too overboard and compromise the integrity of your story.

In the book A Lesson Before Dying, a somewhat illiterate, underprivileged and undereducated minor has been given a mentor, a teacher, before they face the death penalty. At the end of the book, you read all of the letters they wrote to their teacher. There’s misspellings everywhere, almost no punctuation, and long, rambling sentences.

It’s heartbreaking. The subject matter is heavy and horrible, yes, but it’s the choice to write with such poor English that has a much bigger impact than perfect MLA format.

How to implement these details

Most of these, in the written medium, need only show up once or twice before your audience notices and wonders why they’re there. Most fall squarely under character design, which falls under exposition, and should follow all the exposition guidelines.

These details exist to be random and fluffy, but they can’t exist randomly within the narrative. If you want to have your character be superstitious, pick a relevant time to include that superstition.

Others, like ongoing speech habits or movements, still don’t overuse, especially if they’re unique. A character might like to sit backwards in a chair, but if you mention that they’re doing it every single time they sit down, your audience will wonder what’s so important and if the character is unwell.

And, of course, you can let these traits become thematically important, like a superstition being central to their personality or backstory or motivation. These all serve the same purpose of making your character feel like a real person instead of just a “character”.

Just think about tossing in a few random details every now and then and see what happens. One tiny sentence can take a background character and make them candidates for the eventual fandom’s fan favorite. Details like these turn your work from “This a story, and these are the characters who tell it” into “these are my characters, and this is their story.”

[genoskissors]

Analysis and Theories of Jataro Kemuri’s Mother

I break down sentences of the letter written by Jataro Kemuri’s Mother and interpret their meaning as well as attempting to understand her feelings. Just to clarify, I acknowledge she is an awful person. This is an attempt to understand her, not defend her.

And, to address the elephant in the room, the reason I am writing about a character no one cares about as opposed to my beautiful and wonderful beloved is because if I wrote about her, we’d be here all year.

Also: The note contains four paragraphs, but I have them broken up to make this easier to understand and comment on.

Title: “I Shouldn’t Have Had Him”

Little commentary here, but just note how she is saying “him”, meaning she is addressing herself or another, not Jataro directly.

“There's so much I can do if my son didn't exist. So much I could have done if I never had him.”

The clear things we can make out from this are that Jataro’s mother views him as the sole obstacle in her way. She doesn’t say she wants to kill him, but rather, she wished he never existed at all. Keep this in mind for later. It’s less clear what the circumstances are behind his birth.

While you can interpret this as Jataro being a mistake, it is also possible she wanted Jataro, only for events to lead her to regretting him. Personally, I’m inclined to believe the latter. When she says she “shouldn’t have had him”, she’s specifically referring to giving birth to him, not conceiving him. She doesn’t say she shouldn’t have had sex or shouldn’t have gotten married, she says had him. It implies that Jataro was conceived on purpose, only for his mother to realize it was a mistake afterward. She also named him Jataro, meaning “snake son”. We don’t know if this is a name she liked or if she named him this out of hatred.

There’s no mention of Jataro’s father from either him or his mother, so it’s safe to assume he’s completely out of the picture or not present enough. It’s possible she was formerly in a better situation and something happened. She says something that can be used as a clue, but that’s not until the next lines.

Another thing, she doesn’t just blame Jataro for existing, she blames herself for allowing him to exist. She could have said “So much I could have done if he didn’t exist”, “So much I could have done if he wasn’t here”, “So much I could have done if he died”, but she inserts herself into the blame here. Jataro’s mother says if “I never had him”, meaning she accepts responsibility for being the one to ruin her own life.

“I could have obtained qualifications and licenses, taken lessons, worked more.”

Now here’s that clue I was talking about. Of course, anyone can take lessons, but the combination of these things sounds, to me, like she was fairly young when she had Jataro. These all sound like her youth, which includes twenties, was cut short. She still had time to be something bigger. Jataro’s mothers starts this off saying there much she “can” do, but follows that up with saying there are somethings that are now in the past that she “could have” done. I’ll stop with my theories for now.

It is also known that his mother is likely a workaholic. On top of this sentence, Kotoko refers to Jataro as a “latchkey kid”, which is a child who returns home from school to an empty home because their parent(s) are working.

“Instead, my entire life is just a platform for my son's life.”

Jataro’s mother says that she now has no life separate from her son. There is no time for herself. This further implies that she is now a single parent. She previously stated she wanted to work more, but it was for her own goals. She wanted to work and have her own achievements, but now she feels her purpose has been reduced to merely providing for someone else. She can’t go back and get an education because now she is too busy providing for Jataro. Why can’t she get an education after he’s out of the house? Because at that point she feels like her life is done. She now exists only to care for Jataro, which is why she cannot imagine a future in becoming something greater.

“I think about it every night before I go to sleep. If I woke up in the morning and my son was dead, how splendid would that be?”

Here’s where it’s clearly starting to get to her. She thinks about it every night. She desperately wants to wake up and see that she is free again. If Jataro dies, she now has one less person to keep alive and gets back her personal life.

She also sees his death as nothing but good news. But, like I mentioned earlier, she hasn’t expressed any desire to kill him. She just wished something else would come in and fix her life for her.

“But every time I wake up and see him, I sigh. Why are you still alive? Why do you have a normal life?”

Now, this isn’t really important to her character, but the way Jataro’s mother phrases this could mean that Jataro gets up earlier than she does. She says “see him” but if he was dead he’d still be visible. She could mean it as “seeing living”, she doesn’t wake up and go to his room, she wakes up and sees him at some point.

She asks herself a question that is obviously towards Jataro, but she’s not asking him this. Jataro says his mom hates him, but only says what she told him, never what she asked him.

“Why do you have a normal life?” Holds two statements in one. First, she’s showing jealously. She’s asking how come he has a normal life, but I don’t? Why is he living as if he isn’t ruining her life. Second, she thinks his life is normal. Rather than acknowledging his toxic environment and his mask, I think she says normal as in happy. She knows she mistreats him, but wonders why he still wakes up and lives another day, because to her, it’s exhausting.

“I yearn for the day he stops being healthy and stops growing and just disappears. That's all I want. Why can't you just do something that simple for me?”

Another example of Jataro’s mother wanting him gone but not saying she’s going to harm him. The term yearn also cranks up the desperation tenfold. She then acts like his death or disappearance wouldn’t be that big of a deal.

Personally, I think it’s apparent she still has a sense of responsibility towards her son. While being outright abusive, she still never attempts to physically hurt him. She is the provider of his food, but doesn’t attempt to stop him from being healthy. She just waits for it to happen someday.

It could be feelings of weakness. She feels like it’s her sole purpose to provide for him, so the idea of killing him never even crosses her mind.

“I want him to die so badly it makes me cry. And the fact that he has such a worthless face just makes me even more sad.”

At this point, she’s overworked and tired. She’s become depressed from how badly she craves a new life.

Notably, she still doesn’t mention his father. Her hate for his face comes purely out of hate for him and it’s because he looks happy. When she tells him that he’s ugly and all these terrible things, it’s because she can’t handle the idea that he could have any success in life. The idea that he could have a good life after being what ruined hers.

Another thing not commonly known is that Jataro actually made his mask himself, but his mother is the one forcing him to wear it. It’s a bit unclear how this happened but my ideas are that she forced him to make something covering his face. Jataro is genuinely convinced there’s something wrong with his face and asks why she would make him wear the mask. The only way I can think is that he made it at her request and wore it.

“It makes me think I'm the one who's wrong. I shouldn't have had you.”

When his mother looks at Jataro’s face, she shows empathy for a second. She looks at his innocent face and thinks that she’s the bad guy for hurting him. However, she quickly ignores that thought. Again, she says I shouldn’t have had you. Despite addressing him previously, this “you” feels more direct. She isn’t asking rhetorical questions, she’s asking outright. Now, it still might be a secret from Jataro, but it’s clear she had a piece of her that wanted him to see this.

She closes this off with calming down from talking about him dying and reverting to simply seeing him as a mistake she made. She shouldn’t have given birth to him.

Conclusion (with Theory)

I think Jataro’s mother is someone who had a relationship and got pregnant when she was fairly young. Eventually, the father became absent and Jataro’s mother realized the life she had ahead of her if she didn’t have a child. She started to crave this dream and it led to her resenting her son, but also herself.

Thanks for reading all this. Sorry if it makes no sense, I’ve never been too good at writing.

[pygmi-says-hi]

I love your writing. It's amazing! If you haven't done so already, I'd like to hear your advice or tips on sentence flow and how to transition between character thoughts and whatnot (just flow in general) because I feel like that's what I struggle with when it comes to writing for me.

I am assuming that you mean transitioning from dialogue/commentary to exposition paragraphs? that's what I'll go with pls tell me if I'm wrong!!!

lemme write an example:

'she'd never seen such a magnificent flower before - the petals were a silvery velvet that glistened in the dawn sunlight. It reminded her of her mother's skirts. A sense of warm nostalgia swept over her at the memory of the flowing fabric that swayed around Mother's ankles.

the rest of the field contained similarly beautiful flora, varying in size from thimble to elephant ear.'

-

The pink is a character opinion/thought, and the white is the exposition and objective description. when a paragraph is narrated by a character, it reads best to mix them together. When you chunk it like this:

'she'd never seen such a magnificent flower before. It reminded her of her mother's skirts. A sense of warm nostalgia swept over her at the memory of the flowing fabric that swayed around Mother's ankles.

the petals were a silvery velvet that glistened in the dawn sunlight. the rest of the field contained similarly beautiful flora, varying in size from thimble to elephant ear.'

and the expo/narration are kept separate, it's harder to visualize the connection between observation and the reactive thought.

tip 1: keep similar sentences together.

In the above example, I grouped the character's observation of the flower together with the actual description of it.

After, I grouped the memory of the mother's skirts with the emotion.

Finally, the next paragraph was still describing the foliage (aka tying in the initial description), though removed from the narration and still progresses throughout the scene.

does that make sense?

no?

lemme try again guys I got this.

When you transition from 'thought' to 'sight', it might look a little daunting. you'd think "gee I just spent an entire page describing an intense traumatic mental spiral. how do I transition to writing about the room they're in?"

Pick the similar attributes. The middle of the Venn diagram. Okay, character is having a panic attack. It's intense, it's descriptive, there's a lot of inner dialogue. Now, we have to describe the aftermath in relation to the state of the bedroom.

pull them out slowly. If a character is deep in reverie, describe the room how it feels to them. This is a slow transition out of 'me my mine everything about my opinion' description, to 'this is how it is cold turkey' description (plot development).

Example:

(panic attack, oh my god we're dying the world is ending I can't breathe help aahhh)

he shivered. The floorboards had grown cold since the episode started. A cool breeze slithered through the room, chilling him further. leftover adrenaline raised gooseflesh on his arms.

This is entirely objective. no opinion was inserted, but there was the stimulus and physical reaction to the surroundings. this still draws in the character-focused analysis without getting stuck in his head.

2. great sentences think alike. I sometimes feel that my transitions are chunky and not very smooth. Pick common themes to tie them together. "Oh okay, her skirt is blue, it's blue like cornflowers, cornflowers were anna's favorite, now i'm thinking of anna, she'd love it here. where is here? here is in a farmhouse kitchen with...." boom. I made a domino effect from the starting description (blue skirt) to the final destination/scene progression (farmhouse desc).

3. know when you've beat the dead horse. If you've been circling the drain over one thought or milked all the setting adjectives possible for one area, move on. when a scene/dialogue is sufficiently described, the readers are ready for a break.

does that help a little bit?

there was a second part to the request, right? sentence flow? cool beans.

Sentence flow is actually a really cool concept that if you master, you can add so much depth to your writing (i'll def make a part 2 post, stay tuned!).

If you structure a sentence really long and fast without the punctuation and it's just going and going and going oh no-

you start to feel anxious, right? when's it gonna end? what's the kicker? the tension is building and building....

Sentences are short. thin, staccato. not a lot of meat. no meat, maybe. just. bare. bones.

punching, intense, hard thoughts. a shocking discovery, your character doesn't have the processing capacity to think eloquently.

maybe they disobey grammar rules. fuck grammar rules. don't actually tho because you guys lowkey suck at grammar and i'm angry. no don't point out my bad punctuation i'm the teacher here.

point is, the flow of the sentence dictates the reaction. Shakespeare uses this with meter. when the meter is disrupted, it means something bad has happened. In Romeo and Juliet, every time a lie is told, the meter shifts out of iambic pentameter. it's like a 'heads up, something's wrong' to the audience.

USE THIS!!

also - read your story out loud. writers have a tendency to write how they talk. I am a comma fiend because I go off on so many anecdotes I pause all the time while I talk. When I read it out loud and take the necessary pauses though, I want to vomit.

If it's smut I can see how this might be hard for you, but another good idea is to hit hard the grammar rules. If there's a bunch of commas - read the sentence and enunciate the commas. that's how it will read to your audience.

common problems with sentence flow.

feeling long and heavy. if you're describing the action and you feel like you're being swamped in adverbs, take a look at your passive and active voice. passive: "The ball was kicked by Anna." active: "Anna kicked the ball." if your sentences are long and dragged down with adverbs, you're probably really passive.

too much information, not enough words. Thesaurus!! if you've been puzzling over a paragraph and it turns out all you needed were some synonyms, pull out a thesaurus! and a dictionary because remember: similar is not the same. just because a word has similar meanings doesn't mean there aren't special addendums to each.

lost in the sauce. where are we? what's happening? who are you? i'm hungry. too many succulent words! your sentences so big backed they out-backed Outback. long, frivolous words and ten-mile high stacks of adjectives only work sometimes and infrequently. otherwise you spend so much time describing the thing, we forget what the thing actually is.

losing the motivator. why are you writing this sentence/paragraph? what purpose is it supposed to be serving? keep that in mind so you don't lose track and if you do, it'll be easier to get back on it.

repetitive meter. the sentences follow the same pattern, like this one. almost like they're in a loop, circling forever. there's no escaping, you'll like read this till you die.

did you see the pattern? it starts to make you dizzy after a while, doesn't it? This is a common problem and fairly easy to break out of. Just chop up the sentences and glue them together.

*ahem* like so:

The sentences follow the same pattern, like this one. Almost like they're circling in a loop forever. There's no escaping. You'll read like this till you die.

same words, with some added/subtracted punctuation. If that doesn't work, rearrange the order, add in some new verbs or adjectives, maybe add a few filler sentences to space the pattern out.

that's all folks, i hope that answered your question, if not feel free to say so! I'm not offended.

xox keep writing!

[rollinouttahere-writes]

What about monsters au or maybe a fairy au

These have yandere themes to them from when this was supposed to be part of a Halloween event, but I decided to keep it that way because I like it. The first paragraph lightly explains what they are, the second is a reader-insert scenario.

Yandere Straw Hats Monster AU

2.3k words

Monkey D. Luffy - Faerie

Luffy has some intense fae vibes in my humble opinion. He’s chaotic, marches to the beat of his own drum, and he’s prone to dragging people into lifelong friendships that they CANNOT escape from. Luffy finds other fae to be rather uppity, and he prefers the company of humans. They’re so funny and weird! Plus he likes their food. Luffy comes from a very powerful bloodline, though people tend to forget about this fact until it’s too late and they’ve already provoked him.

One day when you’re out foraging, you almost step inside a fairy ring. You count your lucky stars that you didn’t and turn to leave and give the ring a wide margin, but a voice comes from behind you. A faerie is casually sitting in the circle and asks if he could have some of your food. Not wanting to upset him, you toss the snacks you brought for the day to him. He all but demands that you come to visit him once in a while, and you’re forced to abide. Refusing would upset him, but agreeing and then not keeping your word would be even worse. Fortunately, as you continue to meet with him, you find him to be awfully kind and fun for a faerie. You begin to look forward to these meetings. When he asks one day if you’re his friend, it’s only natural for you to say yes. A big mistake, you would quickly come to realize. By agreeing that you’re his friend, you’ve unwittingly given him ownership of yourself. But it’s okay! You two will have lots of fun along with all of his other friends!

Roronoa Zoro - Werewolf/Barghest

Another case of vibes, Zoro just screams werewolf to me. The barghest is a monstrous black dog originating from English mythology, with some sources claiming that a wound inflicted by its claws will never heal. I’ve combined this creature with a werewolf to make it a bit more interesting. When Zoro transforms, he takes on a grotesque and massive wolf-like shape with green fur. He’s capable of standing on two legs, but walking on all four feels much more natural in this state.

Zoro is a renowned monster hunter, as well as a close colleague of yours. After working with him for years, it’s deeply concerning to you when he comes back from a mission only to seal himself away in his home and refuse to interact with anyone. You try to be patient with him, but as time goes on, you NEED to get to the bottom of what happened. He’s been holed up for over a month, so you figure that he must be leaving in the night to get food and water. As you’re lying in wait in a nearby shed, rather than seeing him leave, you hear crashing and yelling coming from his home. Without thinking, you rush in. You don’t know if he’s being attacked or what, but you can’t leave him to suffer. It takes some effort to break the door down, but you do. The home is in shambles. Furniture is ripped to shreds, holes have been punched in the walls, and there are claw marks everywhere. Your attention turns to the writhing mass of limbs and fur in the corner. The moonlight illuminates the room just enough for you to recognize the shade of green the fur is, and your heart falls into your stomach when the creature turns to look at you. There’s a scar over the left eye. Before you have a chance to process this gut wrenching information, he’s on you. As he’s snarling over you, you wonder if you’ll be able to bring yourself to kill your friend before he can kill you.

Nami - Kitsune

Kitsunes are highly intelligent, cunning, and mischievous. All of these traits fit Nami perfectly. She is still quite young for a kitsune and only has two tails so far. In order to make some easy money, she establishes herself at a shrine and demands tribute, primarily in the form of money, though she will also accept fine jewelry and kimonos. 

The shrine she occupies happens to be the one your family cares for, making you her personal shrine maiden. Well, shrine maiden in training. In the beginning, you’re run ragged trying to accommodate such a demanding spirit. Once Nami is confident that you are a good match for her, she relaxes somewhat, but demands near constant attention. You’re unable to eat with your family because she wants you to eat with her instead. Opportunities to see friends are consistently shot down by her requesting that you brush her hair/fur for her or other mundane tasks. It was a little flattering at first to have a prestigious spirit favoring you, but it rapidly becomes draining. It isn’t truly your place to be asking her questions, but you do anyway. Why is she so dedicated to taking up every second of your time? You aren’t even a proper shrine maiden yet, doesn’t she want someone more experienced assisting her? Nami giggles at your inquiry and pets your head in a way that feels more than a little condescending. She explains that it only makes sense for her to be focused on you. Your initiation ceremony is coming up, and those play out like wedding ceremonies more or less. Of course she’s going to favor the person who is about to essentially be offered as a spouse to her.

Usopp - Drider/Anansi

Anansi is a popular figure in Akan mythology and is strongly associated with storytelling. He’s known for being a bit of a trickster, but also a hero and extremely cunning. I’ve combined this with a drider to make him more humanoid, but he is also capable of shapeshifting when he so pleases. Usopp has a reputation for being troublesome, but ultimately helpful. Sure, he drives the locals up the wall some days, but he’s willing to step up into a heroic role when necessary.

Usopp had been dwelling near your village for a while now, longer than he normally would. He just can’t help it though, you’re one of his favorite people to tell his tales to. You never question the validity of what he’s saying or roll your eyes, you just eagerly listen to his stories with a sparkle in your eyes the whole time. When he’s causing trouble, you take it on the chin and laugh it off. He falls fast and he falls hard. Slowly, he starts to incorporate scarier stories into his repertoire. To make sure that you fully believe what he’s telling you, he’ll shapeshift into various forms and lurk around just barely in the corner of your vision, only to flee when you whip around to investigate. When you vent to him about how frightened you’ve been as of late, he’s quick to offer a solution. Why don’t you come with him? He’ll bring you somewhere safe and keep all the monsters away from you. Doesn’t that sound perfect?

Sanji - Yaoguai

I bounced around with a lot of different monsters before eventually settling on this one. A yaoguai is a type of demon from Chinese mythology. Though technically, he’s only half-demon. His father was a god turned demon who was banished from Heaven by the Jade Emperor when he became too arrogant in his power and miserably failed in defending an important artifact. Ever since then, he has been desperate to regain his godhood and has resorted to trying to make supremely powerful warriors of his children. Their mother was a human who was forcibly taken and used in their creation. Sanji suffered a lot of cruelty for being the weakest of his siblings, with the only kindness he ever received being from his human mother (as well as a certain chef after he ran away from home). It’s unsurprising that he strongly prefers the company of humans to demons.

That also means that in his quest to find true love, he’s only looking at humans. Unlike his father, he desperately wants to have a loving, mutual relationship. He tries so hard, but his courtships always end the same way. Everything seems great in the beginning, they’re happy, they’re falling in love. The problem is that all of these begin with him taking on the appearance of a normal human. He wants to be open and honest with what he’s hoping will be the love of his life, so when it’s gotten serious and marriage is brought up, he reveals his true form. Every time, every single time, they scream and run away in horror. Sanji has lost track of how many times he’s been chased out of a village after doing this. He’s getting desperate. By the time he ventures into your town, he’s made up his mind to not tell the next person. At least not before the wedding. Even if you scream and cry and say that you hate him, he’ll make you stay with him long enough to see that he’s the same Sanji that you fell in love with even if he does look different now. He isn’t going to hurt or eat you, you just need some time to realize that. After you have, everything will be fine. At least so he hopes.

Tony Tony Chopper - Leshy (there are so many spellings I’m sorry if this isn’t the right one)

A Leshy is a type of guardian deity for forests from Slavic mythology. They rule over and protect their given forest, and their attitudes towards people imposing on it can really vary based on where the legends originate from and how the intruders act in the forest. They are able to take the form of anything in the forest and imitate woodland noises. It’s anyone’s guess how they will handle a human wandering into their domain. Maybe they’ll be lighthearted and playful, or maybe that person won’t ever be seen again. They’re very ambiguous. Chopper leans towards the more lighthearted side of things. He’s very shy towards most humans, but can become angry and lash out if they do something he doesn’t approve of.

Living right on the edge of a massive forest can certainly be nerve wracking, but you do your best to make it work. You did everything in your power to avoid potentially upsetting whatever Leshy is inhabiting the forest, and it seems your efforts worked… Perhaps a little too well. It started with seeing a bizarre deer-like creature amongst your livestock or outside your windows. Then you started hearing things. One day you could have sworn a terrible thunderstorm rolled in abruptly, only to dash outside and see nothing but clear skies. Eventually, the Leshy got bold enough to approach you directly. You knew you should have been distressed to have such a deity so close to you, but it was hard to be scared of such a small and cute creature. Chopper seems so youthful and childlike that you can’t help but grow fond of his little visits. Then he starts pushing for you to visit him. He has a home at the center of the forest and he desperately wants to show it to you. It couldn’t hurt to go just once, right?

Nico Robin - Harpy/Gamayun

The Gamayun is a prophetic bird with the head of a human woman from Russian mythology that is said to know literally everything and to spread prophecies and divine messages. Again, I’ve combined this with a Harpy for the sake of giving her a more humanoid form. While some people appreciate the endless knowledge Robin possesses, others fear and want to repress it. Robin can rarely stay in the same area for long without worrying about an attempt on her life.

It’s after an almost successful murder attempt that she meets you. One of her wings was shot, leaving her unable to fly away. When you suddenly appear and usher her into your home, she is highly suspicious of your intentions, but she goes along with it because she feels like she has no other option. Much to her surprise, you misguide the people hunting her and then tend to her wounds. As time goes by and she stays put while she’s still healing, she is shocked at how you never once ask her for information or prophecies. You’re being kind to her… because you want to? And you expect nothing in return? It’s unheard of for her. By the time she’s healed, she’s completely enraptured by you. She can’t go back to her perpetual solitude now that she’s gotten a taste of kinship. You must feel the same. You have to feel the same.

Franky - Talos

Talos was a giant bronze statue built by Hephaestus to guard the island of Crete in Greek mythology. His main job is to drive off pirates and other enemies by hurling boulders at them. For the sake of this AU, let’s say that rather than dying, he is simply subdued and ultimately lives. Franky feels lost and like a failure. He leaves Crete to set up shop on a new island where he takes it upon himself to take misfits under his wing. He doesn’t want other people to feel the way he does, so he does his best to take care of them and give them a sense of purpose.

Admittedly, you haven’t made the best decisions in life, that’s a given. Being a petty thief and general troublemaker is hardly anything to brag about, but it’s your life and you’ll do what you want. That is, until some giant bronze behemoth snatches you up and declares himself your mentor. He isn’t even giving great advice, it looks like he’s herding cats when he tries to get all of the local hellions to work together to better their lives. Unfortunately for you, not only can you not escape him, the others are buying into it and trying to drag you down with them.

[hotchfiles]

first. damn your love.

pairing: james x fem!reader.

content warnings: james being kind of an ass, cheating on lily, lily will be probably shit talked (i luv her i'm very sorry !), reader being a lil side piece, uhhh cursing, pro quidditch player!james, not totally AU but like... canon divergent i would say, reader insert with no use of names or “y/n”. probably hurt/no comfort unless i switch the ending but-- paragraphs completely in italic are flashbacks and each chapter will have one.

word count: 2,5k

chapter 1

      You wake up startled by the loud banging coming from your door, a glance at the clock on your nightstand makes your eyes roll immediately, but truthfully, you couldn't help moving your lips into a slight smile. There was only one person who would be at your door at three in the morning on a Thursday, and that person was James Potter.

      You were still groggy and exhausted, having gone to bed just two hours before. However, you would never be able to ignore him and he knew that, so you sit on your bed and yell at the door, it was a tiny flat, he, as well as the neighbours, unfortunately, would be able to hear you loud and clear. "JUST WHY, IT'S THREE IN THE MORNING."

      "I need to talk to you," he said loud enough so you could hear him, and sure enough that was convincing enough for you to get up and open the door, and he was right. You take a deep breath and mumble something you yourself didn't even understand, but it seemed like he got it. "I knocked on your door countless times, come open it, please." A loud grunt leaves your throat and you get up lazily, heading to the door, managing not to bump into furniture only because you knew your own apartment too well.

      You yawned a few times and unlocked the door, opening it to find James. the guy who was usually all smiles seemed quite apprehensive. You got concerned and felt a bit less sleepy because of it.

      "What happened, Jamie?" you ask, giving him space to enter your home, which he quickly did. Closing the door swiftly to be able to look at him with a serious glare. "Please tell me you're not drunk." You couldn't smell alcohol, but something about him was off; he seemed disconcerted.

      "Of course not!" Still, you watched him cautiously as he sat on the sofa, sighing deeply. You followed his steps, sitting beside him and taking one of his hands, cold as a stone.

      James looked at your hands and then at your face, smiling calmly and breaking the contact just to hug you sideways, so your head rested on his shoulder, a quick response to a regular move. "I received an offer from Wimbourne Wasps," he began, and you heard another sigh from him, you kept quiet, saying nothing as you waited for him to continue. "I'm seriously considering accepting it." He fell silent, and for a few seconds, you still waited for him to say more, but he didn't.

      "And what's the problem?" you asked.

      "Lily didn't take the idea very well. We had a fight. Sirius isn't thrilled with this possibility either. Appleby Arrows' fans got wind of the offer, and even though I haven't accepted it yet, they're already calling me a traitor." he poured it all out at once, and for a moment, you were speechless. You could understand Sirius, and the fans… But his girlfriend too? What happened to support and companionship in a relationship? You sigh deeply and look into his eyes, hoping to give him the assurance he so wanted to receive from someone, anyone.

      "You want to take it?" You hold back all the insults you could direct at his girlfriend, and see him nod slowly. "Then do it. It's your life, your career, no one has the right to interfere in what you think is best for both."

      "Really?" he asks, another cry for validation, and you nod, getting a beautiful smile from him. "You're the best person in the world." Those sweet words cut deep through your chest. Hearing that was good, but knowing that even if he thought that, you weren't his first choice hurt like a goddamn bitch. But you smiled, stealing a kiss from his lips and remembering the first time he had said those words when you were both fifteen.

      You looked into his eyes and tried to look as serious as possible, trying to show that you weren't that kind of person, and he knew that very well. Asking you to do something like that went against how you had led your whole student life. But contrary to what you thought, you weren't convincing enough; you just made him show a big and adorable pout of supplication.

      "Please, honey! I have to train for the next match, it's an important one. I won't have any time to think about it, to research, to read and write." He shook you by the shoulders, and you held back a long sigh that was about to escape, just blinking a few times and reconsidering the idea of ​​helping him.

      You threw your arms in the air to show you were accepting your defeat, and the smile you loved so much was again the center of all your attentions, James kisses your forehead and brushes his lips to yours teasingly. You laughed with rosy cheeks because that still made me you nervous, and he hugged you sideways.

      "Honey, I love you," he said simply, casually. Your heart raced, despite knowing each other for years and having been friends during all of them, he had never said those words to you, not even when he asked you out, then he only said that he liked you more than a friend. You looked into his eyes and nodded, unable to respond, but knowing he would understand. "You're the best person in the world."

      "D'you have plans for tomorrow?" he asks after a long period of silence. You already had your eyes closed, about to doze off on his shoulder, nodding calmly was all response you had energy to give. "Cancel them and come with me to Wimborne." You open your eyes in a jump, getting up and leaving his embrace. That was one of the best and worst things about James Potter: He always had unexpected plans.

      It was fun, but there was always that tone in his voice, as if you were obliged to do what he said, never a request, always an order. The real problem was that you could never bring yourself to complain, any plans he had with you, any time you could spend with him was enough, because you were the other woman, you had to accept his conditions, adapt to his schedule and his… Needs. You did feel like trash many times, used, especially when he disappeared for weeks and only showed up when he needed to hook up with someone and his girlfriend was somehow unavailable. But you had loved him since before you were fifteen, and you couldn't help it, it was your impromptu response, always, to just let him make you a fool for his attention.

      "I do need to know some info before, y'know?," despite wanting to go because you loved traveling with James, there were some different concerns since the last time you had done it together. "How long do you plan to stay? And what happened to your girlfriend? What if someone sees us?" You take a deep breath after pouring out all the questions without pause, and James smiled sweetly, putting one of your hair strands behind your ear.

      "The weekend, we'll be back sunday afternoon," he began, and you knew he already knew you would go either way, just by the way he spoke. "Wimbourne's proposal was made over letter, I'm going to study it better, talk to the directors, and make sure if this is really good for me." James sounded calm, irritatingly calm and confident, but you kept your mouth shut, the two most important questions still remained unanswered, you cross your arms and wait for him to do it so. "Lily went to spend a few days with her friends, said she wasn't in the mood to look at my face after the fight. And no one will see us, I swear." You rolled your eyes and sighed, throwing your arms up in the air, totally defeated, making him laugh.

      "I'll pack then," you shrugged and got up, feeling his arms hug you from behind and his lips tracing a trail of kisses between your shoulder and your neck, making you shiver and turn abruptly, sealing your lips in an initially calm kiss, but you both knew where that would lead.

      James paused the kiss just to throw you over his shoulder, forcing you to hold back a scream and then burst into laughter in a way that probably all the neighbours heard, and you were carried to the bedroom, where he threw you on your bed and took his shirt off, soon returning to where you had stopped minutes before.

      You were having breakfast calmly while James took his shower, having someone serve you breakfast in bed reminded you of when you lived with your mother, and you were loving it. It was already Saturday morning, and you had spent the entire previous day walking around town, getting to know the home of one of the most famous quidditch teams in your country; you went to the Minster and saw the Chained Library, the Astronomy Clock, the small local museum and the adorable model town.

      Then you both just kept going into every place that served coffee you could find. The rest of the afternoon was spent comparing which coffee was better and as a result, you arrived at the hotel more excited than usual, talking loudly and making senseless jokes that made you both laugh scandalously. Anyone who saw you would think you were drunk.

      Obviously, after so much caffeine, you stayed awake all night and unlike what would normally happen, you and James just talked, snuggling lightly, as if you were sixteen again. You felt heavenly, still not quite believing that such a thing was happening; it was as if he had finally noticed that you were the person for him, that you deserved the girlfriend title, and that brought you joy so immense nothing could ruin.

      "What you eating?" he asked, a towel wrapped around his waist, and you could see his chest still wet from the shower, but honestly, that wasn't sexier than James messing with his wet hair frantically so that it wouldn't get too messy, or maybe to mess it up even more.

      "Toast, come eat," you felt your eyes tear up as you yawned loudly, you were tired, too tired. you still hadn't slept, neither had he, and you had both taken a shower to wake up, but it didn't seem to have worked. "When's the Wimbourne Waps' meeting?"

      "Toast, just toast? I'm an athlete; I need much more than that." James complains in the most whiny of ways, but takes the toast you were about to eat from your hand and takes a big bite, sitting on the bed still wet. "Dinner tonight; apology in advance for leaving you alone." His lips form a pout, and you roll your eyes laughing, pulling his face against yours and giving him a quick kiss. "Oh! I have a surprise, miss!" Tremendous curiosity invades you but still it doesn't stop the laughter that comes from your lips when you see him putting more of the toast in his mouth than he could actually chew.

      "Nitwit." you lightly slap his arm, and he spits out part of what was in his mouth with the scare. "Potter! Gross!" you shout in disgust and leave the bed running, but soon he comes after you, pulling you by the arm against his chest. You smile and look into his eyes, "What's the surprise?"

      "Look in the black suitcase while I put on at least some pants." You agree with a nod and leave the embrace, going towards the suitcase and you can hear his steps going in the opposite direction where he left his clothes.

      You open the suitcase with great expectations, having no idea what it could be because James is, in fact, very good at surprises, so you never really know what to expect from him. You see the contents of the suitcase, and for a second, you feel disappointed, but then you shake your head, slap your right palm on your forehead, and burst into laughter, finally noticing what the fuss was about.

      "You brought your wizard's chess set?" incredulously you ask, still laughing as you turn to him, already dressed, a smile on his face.

      "Of course! I hardly have time to play at home, and I like playing with you; it gets my ego going." He shrugs and takes the board on his hands, putting over the bed instead of the table, so you both would be comfortable.

      "I'm not that bad!" you complain loudly, making a face and taking the chess pieces to him, so he could set it up.

      "Yes, you are."

      You huff but decide not to complain. It had been a long time since you had spent time like this, being teenagers, and you were loving every second of it.

      Unfortunately, the weekend had flown by, proving that as everyone says, all good things come to an end because all you wanted was to spend the rest of your life in that B&B, in that town with James by your side. On a happier note, James seemed to finally have his focus solely on you, and he was also virtually decided to accept Wimbourne's offer; everything seemed to be falling into place.

      Yet he seemed bothered by something as you both arrive at your building, so you sigh and look at him. taking one of of his hands swiftly and kissing one of his cheeks, asking if something had happened. He simply smiled weakly and shrugged.

      "Nothing honey, just in a bit of a hurry."

      "Hurry? You're not coming up with me?" You were obviously sad with that, but try to ignore it, knowing that he probably had practice. However, you soon notice that, unlike what you wished for, time hadn't stopped, and it was already Sunday evening.

      "Can't, Lily's already home by now."

      Your heart felt like it was going to implode; Lily, as always, was the priority, not you, not your company, and the weekend for him hadn't meant a third of what it had meant to you.

      You muster strength from unknown places to you and smile, holding back tears.

      "I understand! See you later, then." You let go of his hand, open the car door and get out, looking back only to open the back door and grab the only suitcase you had taken. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't move.

      You leave your suitcase in some corner of your flat, still trying to hold back tears. But as soon as you pass by the picture frame with a moving photo of you both from five years ago, you break down completely.

      Sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, you berate yourself for being stupid enough to think that he had changed. You end up spending hours there, without moving, just crying as hard as you could, and you come to a conclusion.

      Loving is pain.

[daisystwistedgarden]

𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒂 - 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

✿✿ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ✿✿

hello! i'm joining other lovely fanfic writers with @ficsforgaza to help raise money for the folks in need in palestine! i wanted to show my support in the best way i can, and this to me is a wonderful effort to bring the community together to do some good.

to participate, make a donation to a vetted fundraiser found on @ficsforgaza's page (aka, don't send me any money!) and send me a screenshot (with your personal information removed, please!) along with what you'd like to request to my ask box. please do not "double dip" aka use the same donation for several writers-- this is a fundraiser, after all! here is what a request looks like:

hello! can i sponsor your mermay fic? i donated $5 to gaza, here is the screenshot! thank you! [insert screenshot]

my pricing will be as follows:

❀ sponsor-a-WIP: $1/100 words ❀ drabbles: $2-3/100 words (elaborated below) ❀ no money to contribute, but you want to support the cause? that's okay. sign a vetted petition from the @ficsforgaza page and send proof, and i'll add a sentence to a WIP of your choosing.

if you have any questions, feel free to take a look here on @ficsforgaza's page or reach out to me. be patient, i will work on these fics at a good pace for me. thank you so much for helping me raise money for a good cause :D

✿✿ 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫 ✿✿

❀ the high school years

before night raven college, each student had their own lives and experiences in high school. what did those years look like? how did they affect each student at the arcane academy now?

headcanon paragraphs for each student. college!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ mermay: azul, jade, & floyd

you're a researcher and rehabilitation expert at an injured merfolk sanctuary near the coast in a small city. one day upon arriving to work, you're greeted with news of a new arrival. he's a bit... odd, it seems, but you're determined to coax him from the depths of his tank and help him recover from the injuries that landed him here in the first place.

small fics for each character. x reader. nonhuman!au (aka no school, no transformation potions). estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 449. current sponsors: two! sponsored word count: 449/1000.

❀ summer camp collab

a super secret collab with two other amazing writers! support this fic if you want to sponsor a fun project i'm keeping under wraps for now...

fics for each character (limited cast). college!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ escape room hcs

in a convoluted set of circumstances, the members of night raven college are paired up together in completely random groups for an escape room bonding exercise. how does this go? who thrives, and who flounders? which groups make it out alive?

character groups made up of main cast of 24 (22 main students + yuu and grim). six groups of four chosen at complete random by a spinner wheel. college!au. estimated length = unknown. groups completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ tattoo/piercer!au

you're looking to start your apprenticeship in tattooing and piercing at a small shop on sage island. there, you study under an employee at the shop meant to take you under his wing. who is he? does your apprenticeship land you your dream job (and relationship), or is it a disaster from the moment you lock eyes?

fic, x reader. limited characters. post-college!au, tattoo/piercer!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

❀ yandere!fem!vil x reader

vil never expected you'd ever break up. the split was blinding, leaving her in a stupor as she stumbled through coveted on-screen roles and modeling gigs for the most prestigious publications in twisted wonderland. in her mind, you're still hers. it's only when she finds out that you've found another lover that her world-- and mind-- officially crumbles. it's time she takes matters into her own hands.

fic, x reader. trigger warnings: murder, stalking, general yandere behavior. post-nrc!au. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.

✿✿ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ✿✿

i'll be accepting drabble requests for the main cast. i write in a collge!au unless otherwise stated, elaborated further on my page here. drabbles are estimated to be ~500 words. they can be sfw/nsfw, tropes, fluff, etc. please specify what you'd like to see in this drabble, whether you only have a character in mind or a very specific scenario! (note: anon MUST be off for you to request nsfw, and you must be 18+).

since requests require a bit more work, i'll be pricing them at $2 per 100 words for sfw drabbles and $3 per 100 words for nsfw drabbles.

do you want to support gaza and request fics for obey me! or obey me! nightbringer? check out my other blog here

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not texting my friend?

To be clear I have no intention of cutting off this person, I will not block or ghost them, and if they text me I WILL answer and not be dry or lame about it.

I just won't be the one to start any conversations.

Moving on:

The story is super complicated but I'll try to keep it coherent.

Three people in the story (fake names):

Me (20)

Alex (16) - friend

Luck (16) - younger sibling We are all the same gender.

Something to keep in mind about me: I have always been very sheltered, naive and distracted, people have told me so and the more I learn the more I realize how ignorant I am. So I have very little experience, perception and knowledge of worldly things. This makes it difficult for me to keep up with people my age and I spend most of my focus on stories I like to write. It's not an excuse for anything and I'm actively working to be better.

Something that doesn't contribute much to the story but may be nice to know: Pretty much everything happens online, I've only met Alex in person like 4 times for birthday parties and stuff.

Now the story: I met Alex three years ago during covid when I was doing school online (I was 17 and Alex and Luck were 13). I was introduced to Alex through my younger sibling. Luck added me to a group chat with a bunch of their classmates, and I got popular really fast. Alex took a particular liking to me, because they thought i was funny and we had many of the same hobbies. So Alex was the first of Luck's friends to start a chat with me directly. Alex was always online and so was I, so we ended up talking alot, like all the time. I noticed Luck got kind of jealous, and that was when I began to wonder if the friendship was right, but I did nothing about it.

Eventually Alex and I started writing a story together, it's something I try to do with all of my close friends and we got really into it. A big rule that I have is that the real world and fiction are separate, under no circumstances are they to entertwine, especially emotionally (ex. I have never and will never insert myself in a story or daydream, not even if reality sucks for me at that time) Alex was different, they got attached to the characters. So there I am, obsessed with progressing the story's plot, and I kill off one of my characters. Alex expresses discontent, but not much. It's through Luck that I find out later that Alex had been crying about it for days. I felt bad and brought the character back, and life went on.

A year and a half into our friendship and Luck seems to have gotten over her jealousy, while Alex and I spend more time writing and focusing on the story than anything else. There are some signs in the rare times that Alex and I talk about life that it become apparent that Alex is going through a rough time, but I don't think too much about it since the story is all that's on my mind. On top of this there's school and whatever.

One day Alex starts asking for breaks from story writing and plotting, and I agree without a fuss. It gets me thinking a bit more, and after a couple more days during a conversation about the real world Alex sends a long paragraph about how horrible things are. (I won't explain what exactly these horrible things were for privacy reasons) Now I realize how inconsiderate I've been so far and I tell Alex that I'm there to support them in whatever they need. I spend pretty much all of the next year texting them every hour of every day and this is what happens:

At the beginning of our friendship our conversations flowed wonderfully, we shared our achievements and showed genuine interest in each other's lives. But things changed and by this point In the story our conversations go like so:

Me: (asks a question) Alex: (responds) Me: (reacts to response) Alex: (dry response) -Repeat infinitely-

Aside from that we would always say goodnight and Goodmorning to each other.

One time. Only one. Alex texted me asking for help and I didn't see the message until hours later. I never really forgave myself for that.

At this point I'm 19 and Alex is 15, and it suddenly crosses my mind how our friendship might be perceived by others. I considered Alex another younger sibling, but with all the crazy things happening in the world I wondered what others would think. In the end I concluded that Alex needed me and it didn't matter. So life goes on. My entire life revolves around helping Alex, when I'm not texting them I am worrying, my own problems come second. My whole family thinks I'm addicted to my phone. I'm always tired and stressed. The stories were put on pause.

Time passes and soon I'm turning twenty. I'm starting to think I can't do it anymore, our friendship has turned kind of codependent (I didn't even know what that was until a month ago). I consider ghosting many times, changing my number, blocking, but only for a couple minutes at a time and I always hate myself for thinking it afterwards. I keep talking to Alex, but sometimes I'll answer a bit slower. Let them wait 3-5 minutes instead of 1-2, if I really steel myself I can hold back for 7 minutes.

One day without warning Alex doesn't text me at all. They've dissapeared before but never without sending a quick message to let me know about it, not until this day. Their status also worries me, only one word: "gone". There I am internally freaking out, losing it, trying to come up with reasons for which everything is fine. I don't ask Luck if they know anything because I know they'll get annoyed. It's not until late the next day that Alex lets me know they went a roadtrip. I tell them "I was worried lol" and immediately they ask why. I wasn't expecting an apology but the question struck me as weird, so I was reluctant to answer. Alex pushes for an answer, they haven't been this interested in what I've had to say for years. I with horror I realize that they liked that i was worried, they wanted to milk it as much as they could. I understand that people need validation, but I was already constantly complementing Alex and telling them how important they were. The fact that they preferred my panic (though in Alex's defense I never told them I was panicking) hit me hard. I didn't elaborate on why I was worried. Alex got upset. And i spent the next hour sobbing over my phone, realizing i needed some distance.

I started slow. I wouldn't say goodnight somedays, others I would forgo a Goodmorning, but I always answered (I swore to myself never to leave Alex on read). I went on a trip and I decided I would enjoy it for once, so I let Alex know i couldn't text much. Nevertheless this lack of contact didn't keep me from worrying and wondering endlessly.

After the trip we kept texting less, we expressed missing each other but neither of us did too much to keep things going. I tried to focus on my in-person relationships, and friendships with people my age. I went back to stories and published a novella.

Nowadays Alex and I talk maybe once every week and a half. The conversations are excruciating. Alex tells me how things still suck, my usual words of comfort seem to mean nothing to either of us anymore. Alex leaves me on read as soon as the conversation goes dry, usually after ten minutes worth of conversation, sometimes over the span of many hours. We don't talk again until I cave in and say hello. Then a couple days later Alex says hello. And then it's up to me again, and every time I tell myself I won't do it.

Luck has told me their opinion of Alex, they saw way before I did how self-centered Alex is. The thing is Alex doesn't do it on purpose, I am entirely sure of that and so is Luck. Luck treats Alex nicely but they're out of touch, more than I am. I am not mad at Alex. I still care deeply for them, but I feel like there's nothing I can do andour old dynamic just hurts both of us. Cutting them off is not an option, they're just a kid and I'm better than that. So I just don't start a conversation.

A couple days ago Alex texted me (even though it was my unspoken turn to text first) and we talked, and the conversation wasn't dry at all, and it wasn't that painful to deal with. They showed interest in my life and shared some sad stuff but also happy stuff about theirs, and it felt like old times. We texted the entire day. At one point the they mentioned that I could text them whenever I wanted, and I felt an underlying petition that I do. The conversation went on and eventually they left me on read the next morning when I answered a message from the night before.

Ever since then I've been actively holding back from texting them but I can't help but wonder if I'm a jerk for it.

These aren't even all the factors but this post has gotten too long lol.

So AITA?

[olderthannetfic]

Vomitous grammar anon here. It seems I angered quite a few people. I'd say I'm sorry for it, but I am not. It is, in fact, snobbery to call people stupid. Gotta love the guy trying to incorrectly correct me and the chap who insulted me while explaining how the word I used was right. A+ stuff guys. You sure showed me. The, 'It was just a joke,' backpedaling afterwards was super believable. Though why any of you would think I'd care if I wrote my ask in perfect grammar is beyond me. When I spoke of readability, I meant that in the bird's eye view way. My works are very easy to skim. Compared to, as an example, astolat's fics which are written in proper grammar. The fics are lovely. I'm a big fan, but if I try to multitask while reading them it's hard to find where I last left off. Those dense paragraphs and sameish sized sentences are a killer. They are sit down and read fics. My works can be read in thirty second bursts. Because I capitalize pronouns, short dialogue is never never lost even if I go, 'he said, and then he— (insert long action beat here.)' I can make each paragraph distinct by breaking them up or expanding them regardless of rules. Keeping unneeded fluff words out while not sacrificing any readability. I love my fics. I always hope I can find more stuff that's written like them. Cue people comparing my attention span to children, dogs, flies and other such unfavorable examples.

--

I'm dying.

I like astolat's fic, but it's bog standard plain genre fiction prose designed for maximum story transmitting and minimum faffing about with ~lyrical prose~. She's a lot better at it than most of us, but her writing is not especially dense.

Nonnie, I'm sorry, but this genuinely is a You Problem™.

[chaztalk]

Yes, yes I know this is hella long, so just scroll to the bottom if necessary

TLDR: I’m a Romione shipper and here’s why I don’t like Hermione

I can understand the criticisms of Hermione’s character, but this is more like “I don’t like what the particular things Hermione did” rather than actually analyzing her character. Also that last sentence in the first paragraph, you could really say about any of the Golden Trio, receiving very few consequences and actually learning from them.

Cuz the actual truth behind JKR’s writing of Hermione is a product of being JKR’s self-insert and even though, she is a main character in the series, the author doesn’t necessarily care about her because we know next to nothing about her life as a muggle, her parents, and her personality outside of magic.

And OP stated that Hermione doesn’t face consequences in the series, but that, however, is not entirely true. She turned into a half-cat after not being cautious enough/making sure that she used a human hair instead of a cat hair. She was given the silent treatment until she apologized about her cat. In OOTP, at the DoM, she was hit by a dangerous curse because she was distracted by doing a celebration mid-battle. And in HBP, she was allegedly sexually assaulted if she didn’t run away from him.

So now let’s break this analysis down:

PS- they name none of her strengths, only her “flaws”. I don’t understand how being a rule follower is really a flaw. And her. Close-mindedness comes actually later in the series (opinions about centaurs and Divination). She froze under pressure once. Being socially awkward for 11/12 year old isn’t really out of the ordinary and doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a sign of a complex character.

CoS- Hermione’s 12-13 years old. It’s normal to develop a crush on someone, regardless on who the actually person they have a crush on are.

The one positive most people give Hermione is that she’s book smart. So I don’t understand how it’s hard to believe Hermione was able to brew polyjuice potion when you just have to read the steps to make it.

And even though, she figured out the mystery, she didn’t win a thing unlike Harry and Ron.

“Ron’s influence is working”. What? How come they never elaborate on things like this?

PoA- I also don’t understand the claim that most people would side with Hermione in the Crookshanks/Scabbers fiasco. Harmione shippers and Hermione stans are in the minority here.

GoF- Now this is just someone pissed off that someone else was interested in Hermione and Hermione decided to go with him instead of Ron

A character flaw in Krum? He can’t hold a conversation with a girl.

OOTP- Hermione’s “snipy” towards Ron because he’s a terrible prefect that gets easily walked all over by his twin brothers who are the biggest rule breakers (and possibly because she wanted Harry to be prefects with her instead of Ron 😃)

HBP- or how about feeling empathy for both instead of one over the other. Like this: “I understand why Hermione attacked Ron because it was one of the times her emotions controlled her. But that’s no excuse for the attack when Ron is kissing another girl when they aren’t together”. Not hard. And it’s why Ron and Hermione are incompatible imo.

DH- she does 90% of the preparations for the hunt because Mrs Weasley made it hard for the Trio to work together. And Hermione is no doubt the brains of the group.

“She rescues them from the ministry”. And Splinched Ron in the process, no? So, wouldn’t really say she’s perfect under pressure.

The most crucial one is Hermione staying with Harry and Ron leaving. What do you want her to do? Also leave? She’s a muggleborn, and muggles are being murdered left and right by DEs.

In conclusion, Hermione doesn’t have an arc. An arc to me is an obstacle a character has that builds character development in them. No Harry Potter character has that kind of arc.

I’ll be waiting for the “Ron’s a disappointing character” analysis post, with it just being complaints about how the “narrative” hates Ron lol

[heepthecheep]

Inklings 2024- (Insert title here)

Whoops, I posted this last night but I forgot to tag you @inklings-challenge

I would like to sincerely apologize ahead of time for the formating. I can only post from my phone and Tumblr isn't accepting the formating from Google docs. I have no idea what this thing looks like on a computer and I promise that I know what a paragraph break is.

I managed my time really horribly, and I hope to improve for next year. I only got to go over this thing once and it shows.

I was also attempting to write something for a younger audience than I normally go for, because out of Lewis's works I'm most familiar with his Narnia series.

Aboard the New Eden, there is never a quiet moment. At dawn-or the closest thing to dawn: the flicking on of the incandescent bulbs startled awake a chorus of birds. The birds set off the wolves, dogs, and all other manner of dog-like things. Then the whole ship comes alive, squawking and screeching until breakfast is served. At night, the dark is full of insect song and the fluttering of leathery bat wings. It’s enough to cover the sounds made by a lone person. It could cover the sounds of many people, but as far as Ada was concerned, she may as well have been the only human aboard the rocketship. The crew existed in a world entirely separate from the live cargo in the great hold of the ship, stories above in the flight deck. They didn’t even come down to take care of the animals-they left all of that up to the Spitzes.

From where she was now, she could see one, a white fluffy thing with a curled tail. It awkwardly stumbled around on delicate hindlegs, struggling to pour a bucket of chum into a seal’s enclosure. The spitz grumbled as the fish finally plopped out onto the ground, pulling back its ears as the seal loudly barked. Placing the handle of the bucket in its mouth, the spitz trotted off on all fours. Ada waited until the clicking of the dog’s nails faded before she eased open the grate covering the vent in which she was currently crouched. She crawled out and stretched, wincing as she popped. Tiptoeing past the seals and their fishy meal, she made her way to another enclosure, this one for a pair of hippopotamuses. The larger of the two opened its mouth and bared its tusks at her as she reached between the enclosure’s bars.

“Easy, “ she whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

She grabbed an unpeeled orange off of the ground and wiped the rind on her shirt. She took her fruit back to the vent and sat at the opening, tossing pieces of orange peel into the animal enclosures nearest to her. It wasn’t enough. She’d have to go out and look for more later, perhaps when they fed the elephants.

Ada jumped as something clanged loudly, uncomfortably nearby. She pulled herself into the vent and pulled the door closed behind her. She strained her ears, trying to hear above the din of machinery and animals, and her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Footsteps. She tilted her head and listened: not from behind her in the darker depths of the air filtration system, not from out in the vast menagerie, but from above. The footsteps were too heavy for a spitz’s, too calm to belong to some escaped animal. It was a sound she hadn’t heard since leaving Earth, a sound that she had been dreading, a sound that could only mean trouble.

“Hello, Mister!” One of the spitzes called out shrilly. “Did you come to see our work? We’ve been doing good work, lots o’ good work!”

Ada slowly inched towards the grate, and peered outwards, praying that she wouldn’t be seen.

“Yes, I came to check on you and the others,”

She could see the spitz now, running excitedly towards the stairs to greet a young man. It was the same dog before, although it looked much happier than when it was working.

“Mister! Mister!” It barked, curled tail wagging furiously.

“But first, would you be able to show me where the supplies are being kept?” The man asked, reaching out to pet the dog on the head.

“Supplies? Which part?”

The man started walking again, towards the place where Ada was hidden.

“We have lots of supplies, but we’re only allowed to touch the stuff meant for the animals,”

“The vittles,” The man said. He glanced over his shoulder nervously.

“Vit-tells?” the spitz’s head tilted at the question. “Vit-tells?”

“I mean food. Things you eat. Where do you keep what you feed to the rest of the animals here?”

“Well, there’s a big icebox for all the meat on the other side of this floor. Most of the dry stuff is two floors down, ‘sept for the oats, which we keep up here for the hooved things”.

“I see,”

The man and the dog were eye-level with the vent. Ada sat as still as possible, taking small quiet breaths. The man’s eyes passed over the vent, but he seemed not to notice her.

“Do you want to go and see the supplies now?” The man turned back to the spitz and shook his head.

“No, I can find them on my own now. Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“You did such a good job of telling me, I don’t need to see it”.

The man patted the spitz’s head again, and the dog skipped happily around in a circle.

“Will the rest of the humans come down to visit us? We’ve been working so hard!”

The man shifted awkwardly and rubbed his elbow.

“I’m sure the rest will be down eventually,” The spitz’s ears and tail drooped. “We’ve been so busy, but we do appreciate your work.”

“Oh. Okay, well, there sure is a lot of work that needs to be done. You wouldn’t happen to have any treats on you?”

“No, sorry”. The man said, shaking his head again. The spitz scampered away, nails clacking over the metal floor. The man watched the dog go, then turned and looked straight at Ada. She stared back, stock-still.

“Who are you?” he mouthed.

“What?”

“Who are you? Are you one of the crew?”

Ada shook her head. “No- I’m with the spitzes”.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Ada said. “A handler, if you will.”

“Well, I’m part of the crew, and I haven’t seen you around before.”

Ada slunk back further into the vent. “I could say the same for you. Where’s your uniform?”

“Where’s yours?” He squinted at her, leaning forward to peer through the grate.

“It’s being washed right now.”

“Which is why you’re crawling around in the dusty vent?”

Ada crossed her arms and scowled.

“That’s none of your business,”

They looked at each other for a few moments before the man spoke again.

“I’m Kaspar”.

Ada held her silence for a moment more, before sighing and crawling back out of the vent.

“I’m Ada. You’re not really with the crew up top, are you?”

“No, no, I am part of the crew…”

“You don’t sound like you do,”

Somewhere, something cawed out, setting off an echoing choir of screeches and cries. The two stood awkwardly, looking out over the menagerie. This time Ada broke the silence.

“Are you also not supposed to be here?”

“Here? On this ark?” He asked, gesturing to the vast room. “No, I’m not”.

Somewhere a donkey bayed forlornly, causing a monkey to start screeching in panic.

“I figured as much. The Spitzes wouldn’t know any better, but I do.” Ada said, brushing dust off of her shirt. “After all, I actually know-”

“Shh, shut up!” He hissed.

“Why? It’s absurd, you know. Breaking onto a rocket bound for Venus, hiding out amongst a bunch of animals,”

“Be quiet!”

“For some rich guy’s zoo-”

He pushed her into the vent and crawled in behind her, shoving her into the darkness.

“What!”

“Shut up, someone’s coming,” he whispered harshly. “C’mon, we’ve got to go”.

Ada nodded and started crawling away from the light. She looked over her shoulder, back towards Kaspar.

“Are you coming?”

“Yes, I am! I just wanted to make sure we weren’t being followed!” he whispered back. Ada continued through the darkness, Kaspar hot on her heels.

“There’s a spot ahead where it gets wider,”

A loud clang echoed behind her. Ada startled and glanced over her shoulder.

“Ow!” Kaspar swore under his breath.

“Watch out, the ceiling is low!”

Kaspar grumbled, before bumping into her.

“I said watch it!”

“I can’t see anything!”

Ada grabbed his hand and pressed it to the floor.

“Feel the pattern in the metal?”

“Uh, you mean the seam?”

“Yes. Keep your hand on it and your head low,” She whispered. Kaspar tapped the floor and nodded.

“Good, your eyes will adjust soon”.

They continued through the dark in silence. Behind them, they could hear the chattering of the spitzes. Slowly, the dark became less black, fading until the walls of the vent were once again visible. The ceiling was higher, high enough that Ada could sit up straight, although Kaspar still had a hunch in his back. Overhead, light filtered in through a different grate, along with the soft sound of bird song. She pressed a finger to her lips, listening for any indication that Spitzes or other people were above. After a moment, she dropped her hand.

“Okay,” she said softly, “Here’s my little corner of New Eden”.

“The vents! I hadn’t even thought of hiding in the vents until I saw you!” Kaspar exclaimed.

“Well, I didn’t think I could get away with hiding anywhere else”.

Kaspar glanced around the metal room and then pointed to the bedding on the ground and the small pile of clothing and supplies that she had brought with her. “You even had time to furnish the place!”

“Not really,”

“Hey, it’s more than I have! I wish I had thought of a hairbrush…” he said longingly.

“Where have you been hiding?”

Kaspar reached into his hair and pulled out a piece of straw, the same color as his messy locks.

“In the hay room,”

“Like…in the straw?”

“Yep! The day before liftoff I buried myself in the back,” He said with a grin, dropping the piece of straw into Ada’s hand.

“But then you came right out and showed yourself?” Ada asked, turning over the piece of straw in her hand. “Instead of staying hidden?”

“Well, the hay was getting used up. There wasn’t going to be much left for me to hide in.” Kaspar plucked the piece of straw out of her hand and stuck it behind her ear like a pencil. Ada snorted.

“So you decided to convince the dogs that you belonged here?”

“Correct!”

Ada rolled her eyes.

“It worked!” Kaspar exclaimed. “Earlier today I talked to one of them, and I got something to eat that hadn’t been chewed on by an animal.”

Kaspar knelt on the ragged blanket that was currently serving as Ada’s bed and smoothed out the fabric. He leaned against the wall with a sigh and closed his eyes.

Ada thought he had fallen asleep when he spoke again.

“What are you going to do when we reach Venus?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ada said crossly. “Get off my bed”.

Kaspar scooted off of the blanket without opening his eyes.

“I’m going to get a job. There’s lots of work to be done at the menagerie. If there isn’t, then there’s plenty of work elsewhere in the settlements”.

“I see,” she uncrossed her arms and leaned against the opposite wall.

“So, what about you?”

Ada didn’t answer, instead turning to look down at the darkness of the vent.

“Ada?”

“I don’t know. When I left Earth-” she paused and thought for a moment. “When I left Earth, I thought I had nothing left. But now I don’t know.”

Kaspar opened his eyes and looked at her, even as she looked off into the darkness.

“How will I explain my arrival on Venus? Surely everyone will know that I’m a stowaway.”

“So? Stowaways exist, regardless of whether they’re wanted,”

“Yes, but do I look like I’m cut out for physical labor? Can you imagine me pouring concrete at some construction site? Or welding steel beams 500 feet off the ground?” Ada asked, clenching her hands into fists. Her eyes were burning from tears that she refused to let fall.

“Who said you’d have to do something like that?”

“No one, no one did, but I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

Kaspar laughed, the first laugh either of them had heard since leaving behind Earth.

“Are you laughing at me?” Ada asked incredulously. “Really?”

“You’re so worked up about something that hasn’t even happened yet,”

“And this is funny because…?”

“Because I know you’ll figure something out. You’ve gotten this far,”

“Without getting caught,”

“Yes, without getting caught! If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”

Ada finally met his gaze and smiled softly.

“I can make it anywhere,” Ada repeated. Though the tears still threatened to fall, her smile grew wider. “I can even make it on Venus”.

[euniexenoblade]

honestly the most fair criticism of tme I've seen is #1 that some people are using it to mean -just- transmascs, for example there are posts like "tmes would never understand [insert something that either cis men or cis women(both of which are definitely tme) would understand(or hell, even some transmascs so the entire point is moot)]" and it's like, just call them transmascs if that's what you mean. When you don't refer to transmascs as transmascs all you're doing is just erasing their transness and their masculinity/manness, like I hope you can see that referring solely to a group of trans people (and not cis people too) as an acronym"tmes"(which in the wrong context is dehumanizing) is fucked up. Because some people definitely do that and that's where most of the discourse(that I've seen) comes from. But yeah I agree that tme and tma are generally neutral terms that literally just mean you face transmisogyny or dont. It depends on how people use them. And -some- people use the term tme in a wildly fucked up way. Criticism #2 has to do with intersex people who do not fit neatly into tme or tma, so perhaps there needs to be a way to assign a "transmisogyny nuanced" option or even not have everybody flip their shit when a transmasc is, in fact, tma?

I dunno, doesn't seem like on the surface tme/tma should have discourse, so there's definitely something underneath that needs to be looked at

Sorry for any bad english

Ok that first paragraph is really large so don't get mad at me for breaking it down (adhd can not do large paragraphs like that).

"that some people are using it to mean -just- transmascs"

the thing is, I've seen so few examples of this and when I do it's not any different than how transmascs on their side bitch about the transfems being "transradfems" or whatever. Like, the transandrodorks throw around all sorts of weird offensive terms that just mean "transfemmes" and "women" so some random trans woman occasionally saying "tme" just to mean "transmasc" doesnt seem like a big deal to me.

"for example there are posts like "tmes would never understand [insert something that either cis men or cis women(both of which are definitely tme) would understand(or hell, even some transmascs so the entire point is moot)]" and it's like, just call them transmascs if that's what you mean."

Ok, but like, to me, this example doesn't mean "transmascs." Like, yeah, it could be meant that way, but it feels like you're reading into it to have special meaning. Maybe you need a real example and not a vague generalization, but this comes off how you're seeing something and not necessarily how it's written. Also, people can just be wrong about shit. Maybe the post in question DOESNT mean "transmascs," and theyre just wrong about a concept.

When you don't refer to transmascs as transmascs all you're doing is just erasing their transness and their masculinity/manness.

I again don't see it this way, this is once again feeling like more of how you're reading something. Calling someone TME doesn't mean "not trans" or "not masculine," it means they are not the targets of transmisogyny, so to automatically equate it to denying transhood or denying masculinity just comes off transmisogynistic to me. That's not what the terms mean, and even misused it still can't imply that. You have to give them entirely new meanings to do that.

"I hope you can see that referring solely to a group of trans people (and not cis people too) as an acronym"tmes"(which in the wrong context is dehumanizing) is fucked up. Because some people definitely do that and that's where most of the discourse(that I've seen) comes from."

I agree! So please tell transandrodorks to never use "amab" or "transfems" or "mtf" again cuz I actually hate all of those, and I swear I get called "amab" all the time by them.

It's really just hypocritical to me, a lot of these points are things they're doing to trans women. Like, the transandros constantly misgender me, call me male, deny my womanhood, deny my nb identity, reduce me to an acronym, like all this is stuff they do, so why am I getting it in my inbox.

"And -some- people use the term tme in a wildly fucked up way."

I have genuinely never seen this and every time someone tries to point them out to me as fucked up, I just see them projecting a completely different meaning onto a normal post. Almost every example drawn up of "this is fucked up" has always only been possible by changing the meaning of the acronyms.

"has to do with intersex people who do not fit neatly into tme or tma"

I've said it before and I'll say it again, this is just silly. Intersex people fit into tme and tma just fine. Plenty of intersex people have spoken about this. There is nothing about these acronyms that excludes intersex people. They can only exclude intersex people by, once again, changing their meanings.

"so there's definitely something underneath that needs to be looked at"

I don't think that's the case. I think a handful of people who are well known transmisogynists on tumblr threw a fit that trans women made new acronyms, and just convinced a bunch of ignorant and naive people who tend to lean transmisogynist in principles. That's how it went when trans women started using camab/cafab, that's how it went when we started using transfem/transmasc, and it's what's going on now. These are the same people that hate every new step we develop to talk about transmisogyny, and they always have a way to wrap bioessentialist trans people, truscum, and other relatively uneducated individuals up in their webs. And being that the transandrophobia shit is started by actual terfs and homophobes, it's just not very surprising they have a hate for stuff like tma/tme.

I am not trying to be mean to you, but you have a very one sided view that doesn't actually appear as nuanced as you want to be. You come off as both siding in the worst kinda ways, tme/tma are just acronyms to talk about transmisogyny. That's all. They serve no other purpose.

[petermorwood]

Interesting to see this post cross my dash again.

I was watching a movie late last night and, with that post's criticism of unbroken long speeches and suggestions of how to break them, here's an example of how a very famous one was done.

The movie I was watching was "Jaws", and the long speech is The Indianapolis Monologue. There are several YouTube clips, but a couple of them leap straight in at the start of the speech.

The clip below has the lead up to The Speech which, IMO, matters a lot in preparing for what follows; there's not just a Mood Whiplash - cheery drunk to OMG Whut - to make the viewers pay attention, but also what I mentioned in the other post, an entirely legitimate reason for an "As You Know" speech.

One character, Hooper, knows the significance of "USS Indianapolis" - his shocked-almost-sober reaction makes that very plain - but the other character, Brody (and the audience he represents), doesn't know and needs told.

In addition (also as mentioned in the other post) despite being a single-character monologue, the speech is "broken" by cutting away from the speaker, Quint, to reaction shots from the other characters present. Even when Quint is on-screen he isn't centre-screen, Hooper is visible in the background where his silent, apprehensive attention accompanies the story he's hearing.

*****

This can be done in words, too: inserting other actions or reactions by means of paragraph breaks is the equivalent of visual cut-aways, and serve the same functions - making a lot of words from one character into several smaller groups of words, while showing the cumulative effect of all those words on other listeners.

Even a soliloquy with no-one else listening benefits from occasional breaks describing what the speaker is doing, how their emotions show, where they are etc. It's all far better than A Wall Of Text.

The entire speech is 438 words, and Robert Shaw delivers them over 3 min 34 sec.

I've got three PDF versions of the "Jaws" screenplay, all different, and this speech varies in every one but are never what's in the movie, so I constructed mine as a transcript from several listenings, and have used paragraph breaks to try matching Shaw's delivery.

Also, as an Exercise For The Scholar (me, anyway) I've inserted and timed the cuts where Quint isn't on screen or speaking to show how short they can be.

Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, Chief. We was comin' back from the island of Tinian to Leyte. Just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Eleven hundred men went into the water. Vessel went down in twelve minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about half an hour. Tiger. Thirteen-footer. You know how you know that when you’re in the water, Chief? You tell by lookin' from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know ... was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. Huh.

CUT TO BRODY (3 sec) then BACK TO QUINT WHO TAKES A DRINK (2 sec)

They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, Chief, sharks come cruisin'. So we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know it’s ... kinda like old squares in a battle, like you see in a calendar, like the Battle of Waterloo, and the idea was, shark comes to the nearest man, that man he start poundin' and hollerin' and screamin’, an’ sometimes the shark go away. Sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark, he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes, like a doll's eyes. When he comes at you, doesn't seem to be livin'. Until he bites you, and those black eyes roll over white and then, ah, then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'. The ocean turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin' they all come in an’ they... Rip you to pieces.

CUT TO BRODY (2 sec) then BACK TO QUINT

Y’know, by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men. I dunno how many sharks, maybe a thousand. I dunno how many men, they averaged six an hour.

CUT TO BRODY (3 sec) AS QUINT CONTINUES OFFSCREEN

On Thursday mornin', Chief...

BACK TO QUINT

I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Bosun's mate. An’ I thought he was asleep; reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up an’ down in the water, was like a kinda top. Upended... Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist.

CUT TO BRODY (2 sec) then CUT TO HOOPER (2 sec) then BACK TO QUINT

Noon the fifth day, Mister Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us, he swung in low and he saw us - a young pilot, a lot younger than Mister Hooper. Anyway he saw us and he come in low, and three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened. Waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. So, eleven hundred men went into the water, three hundred and sixteen men come out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29th, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

*****

For comparison, down below is what it looks like without any paragraph breaks, speech instruction (gravely / incredulous etc.) or screen direction (track right / dolly in / close on / match cut etc.).

(BTW, some of these effects can be used when writing prose, to good effect, but that's for another time.)

This is the Wall of Text effect, and it sometimes turns up on the internet, courtesy of people who don't know how to use Enter except when they're sending a post.

I'm not saying this is how the speech would have looked in the real shooting script, but it might. From my own screenwriting experience, actors don't like being told how to deliver their lines and directors don't like being told how to set up their shots.

There's a bit more flexibility when writing animation, but in both cases crafty writers write so that the way they want a thing done works out as the best way to do it.

Sometimes this trick even works... :->

*****

Here's the Wall Of Text:

Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, Chief. We was comin' back from the island of Tinian to Leyte. Just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Eleven hundred men went into the water. Vessel went down in twelve minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about half an hour. Tiger. Thirteen-footer. You know how you know that when you’re in the water, Chief? You tell by lookin' from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. Huh. They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, Chief, sharks come cruisin'. So we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know it’s kinda like old squares in a battle, like you see in a calendar, like the Battle of Waterloo, and the idea was, shark comes to the nearest man, that man he start poundin' and hollerin' and screamin’, an’ sometimes the shark go away. Sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark, he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes, like a doll's eyes. When he comes at you, doesn't seem to be livin'. Until he bites you, and those black eyes roll over white and then, ah, then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'. The ocean turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin' they all come in an’ they rip you to pieces. Y’know, by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men. I dunno how many sharks, maybe a thousand. I dunno how many men, they averaged six an hour. On Thursday mornin', Chief I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Bosun's mate. An’ I thought he was asleep; reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up an’ down in the water, was like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist. Noon the fifth day, Mister Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us, he swung in low and he saw us - a young pilot, a lot younger than Mister Hooper. Anyway he saw us and he come in low, and three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened. Waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. So, eleven hundred men went into the water, three hundred and sixteen men come out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29th, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

[fictionfixations]

masquerade malleus vignette

(spoilers for glorious masquerade)

aww

i refuse to believe lilia is oblivious enough not to notice that they dont like his cooking

..although solomon (from obey me) doesnt notice either iirc, but i mean..

..sebek. in a vignette, you literally got his help in cleaning a stain from malleus' labcoat???

...i never thought id hear azul say those words.... what?????

i dont know how it didnt hit me until now but the only reason rollo's plan in glorious masquerade failed was because he was so insistent on having malleus there and taking away all his power and shit?? like. cause. none of us had enough magic to actually overpower the fire lotuses(? i cant remember what they were called), although yuu would be able to make it through with no magic how could we even fight rollo at the end??

and at the point it reaches malleus and he could do something about it, it'd be too late?? because i REALLY doubt he has enough to reach all of those flowers and with enough to completely fry them out. and i doubt the bell would reach it by then.

silver...

is azul even human?? im like pretty sure-ish he's not human. not even half human. just entirely sea creature with a human-like body to probably be treated more normally and not hunted for sport/food through evolution shit idfk (like. idk im pretty sure its a thing where pets look so much cuter to cause us to take them in and shit.)

anyway im just imagining sebek talking azul's ear off about how great malleus is because he finally has a buddy who understands and therefore would be willing to listen to him talk for hours straight about malleus's greatness. AND APPRECIATE IT. HAUIHDSUIhd and azuls just like ………………….. floyd and jade laughing at him from a distance azul sets sebek on them like 'i think those two should come to learn about malleus's brilliance, don't you think? after all, as my colleagues, it is such a shame that they don't share my admiration for malleus, and i am unsure how to put it into words, as malleus himself is so magnificent that even words fail to describe him properly. so sebek, my fellow appreciator, would you lend me your aid in helping them grow to appreciate his brilliance?' okay i ran out of words and started repeating them because ic ant be bothered to look up for synonyms, im not THAT into it okay

ahhh so it is a fleur city song i wasnt sure. ive read in fics that it was, but it was also those fics where songs either have power, or yuu knows a bunch of disney songs that are considered 'forbidden/forgotten songs' or something like that and i cant remember which it was

actually if they put in all that work beforehand i think i get why they were so insistent on waiting for rollo to either confess or not AFTER the social ball and after they left and everything LMFAO

they suddenly changed into their school uniforms (still in diasomnia)

i honestly wouldnt know if id trust lilia that much but sure (i hope it doesnt turn to perfectionism levels tho)

first time we encounter italicized text i think. huh.

lmfao

oh my god (no but why choose idia at that point?? is it cuz his voice meshes well with them??)

ayoo its playing the make a wish (i think thats what the song is called) instrumental in the bg ive heard it way too many times not to recognize it (and sung along. its so fucking cool)

damn

my hands are actually protesting now ah geez (i took a break)

I GOT SO DISTRACTED BY DEUCE (i was re-experiencing enjoying looking at everyones costumes again) I AM AN IDIOT (its lower in opacity to show you that you're on it in the editor)

ooh

i didnt notice the insert paragraph im sorry lMFAO but id forget if i didnt SS it then

ooh some malleus riddle bonding

AH ITS A YUU JUMPSCARE

that seriously startled me like suddenly i just hear footsteps and then BOOM OPTIONS

ayooo malleus and yuu dancing

(alsoo yuu and deuce dancing :D)

WOOO

okay. now.

i feel like. im doing really good progress tackling all the vignettes (currently in EN. after that's GloMas, & Book 6 and 7. ive been avoiding it because not all of the Backgrounds exist, and GloMas has options with completely different dialogue which I can't see them all. i have three different videos of GloMas gameplay but they dont show all options...). all thats remaining is azul's tsumsitter (i have a vid of his vignette. ..i just dont like doing the tsum ones because i never know how to describe the tsum moving) vil birthday bloom (i FOUND A VIDEO finally oh my god. i love doing birthday vignettes) malleus dorm uniform (I have a vid) sebek new year (i have a vid) grim labcoat (i have a vid)

and then the rabbit costume ones which all of them have vignettes iirc and i have videos for all of them (i actually just found them as i was writing this. thank you god. they have no views tho geez. wonder if that means vil birthday bloom exists in a video but just wont appear. this is future me. ...i have been blessed with vil birthday bloom.)

[lokisgoodgirl]

hiiiii do you have any tips for someone who is just starting to post fics?? I'm an author but haven't posted ff in literal years and never on Tumblr, so I want to make sure I don't step on any toes or break some kind of fic etiquette first!!! <3 tia

Hey sweet!😍 How exciting that you're dipping your toe in the tumblrsphere!!!

Since you're a seasoned writer, here are some tips about other things:

No.1 Piece of Advice - Talk to people!!!!!! Be nice!!!! Let your freak flag fly!!! You sent me an ask apologising for being all over my posts ATM...DON'T!!! That is literally the best thing you could do. It's how you get to know other users, how you recognise each other, how you build little in jokes and suss out your people. Please please involve yourself in your fandom. Fics, silly things. Exposing yourself (careful...) and getting to know writers is honestly the best thing. Results will vary depending on other users you approach, but it's the best way to feel like you're not posting into a void. And reblog things you read, or that make you laugh! Especially if you're a writer, and you read fics... do unto others as you would have done unto you or naff off with the right to complain when people don't share yours, is my view (not you personally, just in general) (If you weren't aware, on Tumblr, reblogs are the best way to show appreciation/ share work - but comments are also great.) The read more button. You need to insert this on your fics (it's what causes the 'read more' line to appear at a certain point you choose.) A couple of paragraphs/lines/whatever in, press enter and this button will appear on the bar

It's the black squiggly one at the far right. This means that your post won't be 3 miles long and is more shareable - and also it means anyone who shares it won't have a huge long post on their dash :)

Tags/Warnings As well as your fandom # tags a lot of people add warnings at the top of the fics (for things ranging from smut, to various kinks, to anything triggering) Approaches to this vary, no ones perfect - but especially where things are obviously sensitive topics, include these to avoid upsetting people.

Headcanon Etiquette If someone's thought/headcanon they've posted inspires you, and it's very specific and inspires an idea - drop them a message to ask if they mind you writing something about it and credit them in the post because I've seen some absolute audacity in my time and it's never ok. I'm in no way saying you'd do this, but it's my biggest pet peeve. Just be respectful of other people's imaginations, basically. It's literally all we have here 🤣

Feel free to pop me a message if you think there's anything I can help with and I'll do my best 💖