#or i see the keyboards and wonder how hard it would be to learn that

[just-your-average-tangerine]

I'm normal and can be trusted inside music stores

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Suicide Prevention Month

TW: Mentions of Suicide, Depression, Death, Familial Issues

In honor of Suicide Prevention Month, I want to share something that’s been weighing on me for a long time. From ages 11 to 19, I tried—five different times—to end my life. I was convinced that the darkness was all there was, that there was nothing beyond the pain I felt. But now, almost 20 years old, I’ve realized how wrong I was. If any of those attempts had succeeded, I wouldn’t be here to experience all the beauty and opportunity this life has to offer.

It’s hard to put into words just how much I’ve learned about myself over the years. I’ve been through more pain than I ever thought I could endure. There were moments when it felt like even the darkness was too bright for me, and all I wanted was for everything to stop. Some days, that feeling still lingers. Some days, I wake up and wish I had succeeded. I find myself staring at a blank page with a pen clutched in my hand, or a blank screen with my hands over the keyboard, wondering if anyone would stand at my grave if I disappeared. 

But here’s what I’ve come to understand: If I have a reason to write a note, I have a reason to keep living. The very act of wanting to leave something behind, a final word or explanation, means there’s something still holding me here. Something still worth fighting for, even if I can’t always see it in the moment.

Life isn’t easy. I know firsthand what it’s like to feel like the world has turned its back on you. 

My life is far from perfect. I’m still dealing with things that weigh me down, wounds that have never fully healed.  For as long as I can remember, I’ve been trying to reconcile what it means to be "unwanted." And for a long time, I thought that meant I didn’t deserve to be here.There are times when I still feel like I’m on the outside looking in, struggling with rejection from the people who are supposed to love me unconditionally. When I was 18, I almost died in a car accident, and my mother didn’t shed a single tear. I can vividly remember lying in that hospital bed, watching her scroll through her phone as if my being there was nothing more than an inconvenience.

I still feel the weight of that day. But the most painful moment was later, during a heated argument when I broke down and whispered, "I wish I had died." My mother, who had started a new family with my stepfather and seemed to drift away more and more each second had shot back immediatelt "Well, too bad you didn’t."

It was in that moment, more than any other, that I truly felt abandoned—like I was nothing but an obligation to her. It was the moment I realized the cage I felt trapped in was my own hope that my mother might one day see me, acknowledge me, love me the way I had longed for her to. That kind of pain—the pain of abandonment, of never being enough for the people who are supposed to love you the most—it doesn’t go away overnight. Maybe it never fully goes away at all.

But here’s what I’ve learned: the pain isn’t forever. No matter how much it hurts right now, it won’t always hurt this bad. Over time, it becomes easier to carry. There are days now where I can breathe again, where I’m reminded that life still has so much left for me to experience.And that i deserve to be here. That God put me on this planet for a reason. That whatever you believe in - God, Allah, the Universe, Science- there is a reason why you are here. And if I deserve to be here- so do you.

No matter how hard life gets, and trust me, it gets unbearably hard sometimes, there is still so much left to experience. There’s still love to be found, friendships to build, moments of pure joy and connection that you can’t even begin to imagine when you’re stuck in that dark place. If those five attempts had worked, I never would’ve had the chance to meet new people, to maybe one day fall in love, to start a family of my own. I wouldn’t be here, sitting at my desk, writing this, hoping that my words reach even just one person who needs to hear it.

Sometimes, when things feel like they’re too much, I find solace in the small, ordinary moments. The smell of coffee in the morning. The feeling of dread when I see a spider and know I have to deal with it. The excitement of seeing a friend I hadn’t seen in a while, or the simple contentment of putting my thoughts on paper. Life isn’t just made up of the big, earth-shattering moments; it’s these small, everyday experiences that give it meaning.

I’ll be honest—there are days when I still struggle. Days where I feel like I’m slipping back into that tunnel where the light at the end seems unreachable. I know that feeling well. I’m going through it right now, in fact. It hits me hard, especially knowing that even during my lowest points, there were no tears shed for me. That’s a kind of pain that lingers.

But even in the midst of that pain, I’ve learned something important: suicide is a permanent solution to a set of temporary problems. I’m not saying that life will magically get better overnight, or that you won’t face hardships moving forward. You will. Life doesn’t pull any punches. But what I am saying is that there are bright, beautiful days ahead of you, ones that you can’t even fathom yet. There are people you’ll meet along the way who will walk with you, hold your hand, and help you face whatever’s ahead. You don’t have to be scared to face those days alone.

There are people in my life who I rely on heavily—people who don’t even know how much they mean to me because I don’t want to burden them with my struggles. Sometimes it’s the smallest things they do that make the biggest difference. And that’s something I’ve learned recently: even when you feel like a burden, even when you feel like no one cares, there are people who love and need you, even if they don’t always show it in the way you hope they would.

You are loved. You are needed. And I know that might be hard to believe right now, but trust me, it’s true. If I could go back and talk to that 11-year-old me, the one who thought that the only way out was to end it all, I’d tell her to hang on. That the future, while uncertain and sometimes terrifying, is full of possibility. That there are so many more smiles to smile, more laughs to laugh, more songs to hear, more stories to live.

I’ve lived 19 years as an adult. Almost 20. And it’s only now that I’m starting to experience that pure, childlike wonder I thought was lost to me forever. It’s only now that I’m beginning to see what’s truly possible in life. And if any of those five attempts had succeeded, I would’ve missed out on all of it. On the hope of finding love, of giving my future children the kind of love I yearned for growing up. On the anticipation of doing great things. On the nervous indecisiveness of realizing that my future is wide open, waiting for me to step into it.

So if you feel like you can’t take another day, I want you to know that it *will* get better. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually, you’ll reach the end of that tunnel. And when you do, there will be people waiting for you, ready to help pull you through. Stay for them. Stay for the small moments you haven’t experienced yet, the ones that seem insignificant but make life worth living. Stay because your story isn’t over yet, and you are the one who gets to write the next chapter.

It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It’s okay to feel lost. But know this—you are strong enough to get through it. I’ve been there. But I’m still here, and I’m asking you to stay, too. Stay to see the good that’s still waiting for you. Stay to laugh, to cry, to feel all the things that make life real. Stay, because you are loved, even when you can’t see it. You matter more than you know.

You are the author of your story. It’s not finished yet, and the best chapters are still ahead. Stay for them. Stay for you. 

You matter. Your life matters. And the world is a better place with you in it.

[saaraahka]

You post a lot of things wondering when you're going to be loved by someone so let me ask: What active steps are you taking to be what you deem loveable and desirable? How are you preparing yourself for that future domme? You can always make that your own to-do list until that special someone is around to write one for you. Best of luck in finding them!

Hii anon and what a lovely ask and set of good and important questions to think of!

So I think a short answer to both questions is i actively try to do and learn to be better at, to at least in my mind to become more loveable and desirable is,

being kinder to myself when trying but not achieving what id like and see it as a learning oportunity not only a failure from my part.

Being more talkative and creating strategies for myself on how to interact with women even when it is just something like saying hi which for me is harder than i can describe and verbal communication is extremely hard for me. With texting it's easier but still mostly involve staring at my keyboard anxiously spending days not getting anywhere.

I try use the skills I have to be useful and helpful in other women's everyday life although still trying to learn how to comunicate this and understand how and when to offer and if it is somethingthat would be appreciated. Although for me this mostly limited to cooking and baking for others and helping with practical things in the limited way I can.

And I try do and experience as much as I can on my own to get at least a sense of what it feels like for me and if it is something I'd like to explore with someone else.

More than anything (i believe) submission is not about actions more than leaving control to someone else and trust them with my needs being met while also meeting theirs. Maybe it makes it hard to prepare myself for a unknown potential future domme but I feel it's the honest way to approach it myself.

And ofc being as shy and insecure and hesitant as I am to social situations and i teraction with women dommes even more so, I still have a lot to work on just to feel like I have something to offer. Since well I feel like a good level of trust can only from in a close relationship (platonic or other). And this obviously doesn't mean trying to become someone I'm not but also I need to be able to show someone how much they mean to me and have to be able to have conversations were I'm considered an active part. Will all of this help me find that special someone I have no idea but I can only try.

Ugh was going to be a short answer. But also have no idea what I'm doing or what steps would be best to focus on in what order or what traits a domme would appreciate in me... so yeah any help and thoughts welcome.

Um anyway ty for the ask and hope this makes sense ❤️

[veliseraptor]

ok ok inspired by the recent success of the three sentence meme going to try my regular pre-flight 150 words meme. aka send me a number from the list of fics below and I will write 150 words in that fic

1. Pete sat down on the floor. Porsche, hovering, gave him a worried look. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Pete said, then adjusted, “sitting.” 

“I can see that,” Porsche said. “Are you okay?”

Pete laughed. “No,” he said. He didn’t know when he was going to be okay again.

“Um,” Porsche said. After a couple seconds he sat down on the floor with Pete and put an awkward hand on his shoulder. “Do you, uh, want to talk about it?”

“No,” Pete said again. He didn’t know what he would even say, if there was anything to say. He was so tired and it felt like any minute now Vegas was going to die again, and he was just waiting for it to happen. (reduce, reuse, recycle)

2. “Can I ask you something?” Xiao Xingchen asked. Xue Yang glanced in his direction, fingers pausing on his keyboard.

“Sure,” he said. “Sounds ominous. Hit me.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I was just wondering if you remember what you said when we first met.” Xue Yang had said no before, in the hospital, but it’d clearly been a lie then. He was hoping maybe the answer would be different now. Xue Yang made some kind of face, but it was hard to read. 

That, Xiao Xingchen thought absently, was one of the things he was going to miss most: the ability to see Xue Yang’s face and read his expressions. Not just because he liked looking at him, but because it was going to get even harder to tell what he was thinking. (Redux)

3. Which brought him here, in a room with a dirty, scruffy boy of indeterminate age (a skinny fifteen, maybe), his hands tied behind his back and an expression of casual unconcern on his face. Unconcern, except for the dangerous glint in his eyes that Jin Guangyao was going to be careful not to forget.

“I didn’t say to restrain him,” he said to the disciples who’d brought him back. He hadn’t, to be precise, told them to bring him at all, but there was no point in saying so now.

“He tried to attack me,” said one of them. 

“After you got in my face,” the boy said. “You deserved it.” (jgy teaches xy to read)

4. Oh, no, Pete thought again, but with a little more despair this time.

“Take Pete,” Khun Kinn said.

Vegas’s gaze swept to Pete, flicked slowly over him from head to toe. “Isn’t he one of Tankhun’s?” he said. “He won’t be thrilled that you’re loaning out his bodyguard to me.”

“That’s not your problem.”

“Considering Tankhun,” Vegas said, “it actually might end up being my problem.” (the devil drives)

5. That slight hitch. A correction. The muscles between Fenris’s shoulders tensed and he thought abruptly, disjointedly, of a red-haired woman sitting at a table in the Hanged Man, the sudden realization…

“Anders,” he said. The mage barely glanced at him, seeming distracted.

“That big thing in the sky is scarier,” said the young girl. She, unlike her father, was looking at Fenris. “I heard it’s full of demons that’re trying to come out. What’re those lines on your skin, mister?” 

“They’re tattoos,” Fenris said. His limbs felt heavy. He glanced toward his sword, three paces away. “Meant to imitate Dalish vallaslin.” He hadn’t meant to say that. Something was wrong. “Anders,” he said again.

Anders was looking at his hands and frowning. “Bloody hell,” he said. “Where did you find magebane?” (the best all lack conviction)

6. Malkar meant it when he’d said he was going to demand a lot of me. He said if I wanted to be a hocus - wizard - nobody could know where I came from. “Do you think the Mirador will welcome a whore from Pharoahlight?” he asked me. “No one must ever know where you came from. They’d throw you out on the streets. Now tell me about the Curia again, and for god’s sake, mind your vowels.” 

And when I didn’t do well enough, fast enough, there were always consequences.

“This is how you learn, Felix,” Malkar said while I was shaking on hands and knees at his feet. He bent down and took my chin and tilted my head back so I was looking up at him, but he was gentle about it now. “It is for your own good.” (Pygmalion)

7. “Why are you so eager,” Song Lan asked. Xue Yang laughed, his smile turning sharper, a little less pleased.

“Why wouldn’t I be? A chance to help these poor people. Wouldn’t miss it.” Song Lan waited silently, and Xue Yang’s eyes cut away. “I’m curious, Song-daozhang,” he said. “Is there something wrong with that? Walking around with you and your judgmental glare gets boring. Give me a problem to chew on, a mystery to figure out, something.” (Walking Far From Home)

8. “Tell me...tell me how we met,” Xiao Xingchen said.

A brief pause that made Xiao Xingchen’s stomach swoop with sudden unease. “What,” his friend said lightly, “did you forget that, too?” 

“I’m…” Xiao Xingchen wasn’t sure if he should apologize or not. He tried to remember, even if thinking made his head hurt, searching through his jumbled thoughts. Something about the smell of blood? A fragment of thought: at least I might be able to fix this.  “You were hurt,” he said, half a question.

“Uh huh,” his friend said. “That’s good.”

“And I found you,” Xiao Xingchen said, a little more confidently. “Helped you.” (xiao xingchen + concussion)

[feyspeaker]

Hii me again. I'm not sure if I sent the ask I'm talking about on anon, so maybe that's why you didn't see it? It partially got answered with a recent ask you got anyway so no worries. I was just wondering if you use 3d in your process and if so, how? I've seen other illustrators use it to varying degrees and it seems like a really helpful tool to push your work.

Oh that's so weird! No I periodically go through my asks in chunks and I didn't see anything like that. I've had a few people in the past few months send me asks that looked like the second half of something else with no context, so maybe it's Tumblr fuckery. Sorry!!

I recommend learning Blender so you can help sculpt shapes and render lighting onto them in order to get the weirder/more complex shadows right. You can also apply colors onto the things you sculpt in order to see how the colors act in different lighting. It's pretty much an invaluable tool to me as it keeps me from having to problem-solve too much. I did a lot of digging around in my house to build references to photograph but it was just impractical to achieve the things I want to a lot of the time. I still do that, and you would not believe how many goofy photos I have of my husband in the poses you've seen me paint Astarion in lmao...

I do think that it needs to be used in moderation if you are a more beginner artist- I think that using 3D is DANGEROUSLY close to becoming a massive crutch for a newer artist and improper usage or over reliance on it can lead to stiffness or artificial looking colors. You need to be able to train your eye to create compelling compositions by bashing things together, and train your hand to replicate/add/subtract as needed from your references with an organic feel.

I will say this as a total committer of this crime myself in the past, it's VERY easy to tell when an artist relies too much on, for example, Clip Studio Paint posed models as bases for pieces without a good enough grasp on their fundamentals. And I also used to prickle when I saw more advanced artists warn of this, so I do think maybe it just has to run its course sometimes, because I know that using 3D for reference seems like an easy-button.

I've taken a lot of in-person classes for live figure drawing and painting, as well as just totally done drills, basically, on sketching and painting from life before relying too much on static imagery/3D/etc.

I often fret over every piece I do looking too stiff even still.

You have to do a LOT of the boring hard stuff the old fashioned way. And I regularly go back to it over and over when needed.

For example, I recently did a stupid amount of rose petal/flower studies deconstructing and painting ugly little paintings/doodles over and over because I know that I've been horribly weak at painting flowers for years (actively avoiding them). And I've been doing a lot of floral stuff lately due to that.

Whenever I start a new piece in new territory, I know it's going to mean several 3AM nighters where I have two other tabs open on Photoshop where I test out different textures or do a couple of studies. I'm working on a piece of my OC right now that has a lot of gore/medical instruments and I've been working on testing out different methods for shiny metal painting and some anatomical studies. I'll come to a snag in a painting and go "here we go" and work through it one piece at a time.

My Halsin piece, "Secret Spot" in the hot spring, was a massive undertaking with a lot of these moments. The Karlach x Dammon piece took 3 times longer than it should have due to me just having to go back and fix things knowing I could do better after doing some studies.

Ultimately I personally find art tutorials to be quite useless overall once you get to a certain point, unless they are teaching the use of a tool/software because you HAVE to figure out what works for you. And even then I use Blender like a monkey with a keyboard, I suspect, because I've just bruteforced through it, so I could probably use a tuneup from a good teacher on that haha. I hope this helps some, and sorry if I overstepped if I sound preachy.

[wrongcaitlyn]

Are we going to see anything more… mature… in Nico and Will’s relationship in tyt? I know that sex and like sex education should be normalized a lot more within teenagers and like society as a whole, but I feel rlly weird asking. I understand that it’s obviously very real and valid if you as an author feel uncomfortable writing about it, but I was wondering if there would be a mention of … something? Obviously fine if not

I just mean like how they’ve learned to grow and mature into young adults (which is something really hard with extended lengths fics, to show how characters grow like aging kids do from the characters us as writers usually start with in our heads). I think it’d be a great way to show how Nico has grown as person, and also normalizing the fact that these are growing young men and women in this fic, and that sex is a normal part of life.

Let me be clear‼️ I am NOT asking you to like write smut or something, just wondering if we’ll be getting a mention of that kinda thing.

that's a totally valid question!! and short answer: no, not really. and this is similar to the thing with pet names - logically, i know that they do it, and it makes sense - but i just don't know how to write it, don't feel very comfortable writing it, and so i don't write it😭

i think the closest i've ever gotten is like that one line where cecil makes a joke after nico flies to nashville, and it's like "do everything i wouldn't do!" because he's ace. sorry that was funny to meSDLKJF but yeah dirty jokes are about the furthest i'll get, just because i'm a sex-repulsed ace and it just feels weird to me, personally.

also, i've written a few fade to black scenes in other fics, and everytime i even get CLOSE to it i literally have to shut my eyes and look away from the keyboard because i'm just. cringing. idk i feel like whenever i even try to attempt a heavy makeout session it's just...sjdfksjdjkaf

i'm not sure if i'll ever like mention it offhandedly, because to me- idk, it just feels strange? especially in this fic, seeing as they started at fifteen in this universe, and so even though ik that they're nineteen now, it's just... this gut feeling i guess? like, i feel like i'm slightly more comfortably implying sex in fics where they start off at an older age, like, 20+.

and this is 100% not meant to shame authors who do write smut/implied underage sex, like as long as it's safe that's completely fine!! it's just a personal preference, and i feel super awkward writing anything even remotely dirty. like, some aces have this superpower of writing smut but i do not have that, i can barely get kiss scenes to sound naturalSLKDF

but thank you for the ask!! i've been kind of avoiding anything to do with that, so the answer is this: probably not. at most, a few dirty jokes and a brief mention. we'll see if it ever just comes into the fic, but i don't have any plans for it right now!

[bunny-heels]

leetspeak information post

so if you're someone who's played old online games as a kid and would see the numbers 1337 somewhere, either in someones username or put in a random spot on the map, or would notice random numbers in the middle of peoples names replacing letters- thats leetspeak! in fact, 1337 is the word leet written in leetspeak!

leetspeak is when you use different characters on a keyboard to replace letters in words so that they are harder to read for people who don't know it, and that way you can hide messages from people in plain sight.

history

it gained its popularity in the 80s when speaking to people around the world online started to grow in numbers. pretty much the only way to communicate with people online via computers and the network was using a BBS, Bulletin Board System, that was basically forums before they were called forums. right before IRC existed too! this language was commonly used by people who claimed themselves as hackers, or H4X0RS, and their knowledge of accessing hidden away files and system controls allowed them to be known as the "elite", giving them the title 31EE7 H4X0R. the most famous hacker at the time was Kevin Mitnick, who got arrested at one point in 95 by the FBI for computer hacking and wire fraud. if you're into 2000s gaming and his last name sounds familiar to you, thats because he's even referenced in Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines and is the name of the hacker Nosferatu in Hollywood!

should you even learn it?

yes!!! yes you should!!

leetspeak is a wonderful way to keep yourself and your thoughts hidden online from the general public, and especially from specific groups of people that you don't want finding you. as well, you can write a word in any way you want in leetspeak! you don't have to use the same replacing characters twice!

as an example, lets say you are making a post talking shit about na.zis, but youre scared that the trick of putting periods in between words isnt going to be enough to stop them from finding your post, since they can do the same thing.

easy solution! write it in leetspeak!

you could use n4z1, n@51, or even |\|/\-/_!. there's many different variations you can create when you really try to imagine it!

as well, leetspeak is an outdated way of communication, and most people have forgotten that it even exist, so its very likely that the people youre trying to talk shit about will be one of those people, and they'll never know how to find you! and even if they DID remember it existed, theyre probably too lazy to try and figure out the various combinations anyway, so youre always safe!

how to learn

learning leetspeak is especially easy to do when you practice it yourself. often the most common forms of leetspeak that is normalized is changing letters to numbers that look similar, such as E to 3, A to 4, G to 6, and so on so forth. there is also different levels of leetspeak that can be used to make the messages even harder to read for those inexperienced, so your secrets are extra safe.

here are some examples of words being turned into leetspeak at varying degrees of experience:

freckles -> f43ck135

spot -> $907

dictionary -> d1ct10n4ry

dog -> c|06

rabbit -> r48817

action -> @<7|0|\|

problems -> 9|~()9|_&|\/|$

the reason why the leetspeak versions of these words might be easy for you to understand right now is obviously because the actual words are right next to it. 8u7 1f 1 \/\/343 2 $7@47 7@|k1|\|6 |1k3 7h1$ ["but if i were to start talking like this"], then its very likely you won't be able to read it!

on the wiki page for leetspeak, there's a chart that list the most common combinations of replacements for letters that can be used

switching up how you do these various combinations can make you so hard to find that you'll basically disappear from people's searches entirely! making you safe from groups that are prone to harassment, bullying, and the like.

and, psst, for tumblr use especially, you could use this to spread awareness for a lot of topics that staff usually will delete entire posts and blogs over. staff won't know what to do when they suddenly can't find anymore more posts about 9/\|_3$71|\|3 to block.

leetspeak isn't that accessible for some people

leetspeak does not generally do well with people who have disabilities and the like that affects their ability to read, and is not a friendly language when it comes to screen readers.

sadly, tho, that is technically what you have to sacrifice if you want to use it to be hidden. some of your followers won't be able to read a post that you used leetspeak on to be able to avoid being detected, thus they miss out on whatever youre saying. and that can suck.

the best way to keep it as accessible as possible is learning the lower level form of leetspeak and using it in posts, such as only changing some of the letters in words to numbers, l1ke th1s, so that they can somewhat get a general idea as to what youre attempting to say.

there are some sites that do give the option to decode leetspeak, such as 1337.me and dcode.fr, however those sites rely on the old typical chart of leetspeak characters, so if you try to decode someone's unique way of hidden a message, it likely will come out not making sense.

for example, this is what the decoder thinks 9|~()9|_&|\/|$ spells. mind you that this is supposed to spell "problems".

this is how i would have to write it in order for the decoder to understand what i'm saying.

but if i try to put that same "fixed spelling" into the second decoder, it comes out as this

so, sadly, higher forms of leetspeak are not very friendly towards people who have difficulty reading, so if you want your post to be accessible for those individuals, then its best to either use the lower form of leetspeek, as 1n r3plac1ng as l1ttl3 l3tt3rs as p0ss1bl3 ["as in replacing as little letters as possible"], or to just u.s.e p.e.r.i.o.d.s so that the words get spelt out.

of course, if a person with a disability that affects their reading really wanted to, they could attempt to learn how to read it in their own way, such as learning what numbers replace which letters and what certain combinations of characters stand for. very much more power to them if they can, but that cant be easy. and i only wish the best for them.

also, the biggest and most obvious draw back- people who are not experienced or straight up do not speak english will have an impossibly difficult time reading it, some of them not even being able to use it for their own language depending on what it is. which, again, is why it's suggested to use the lower form of it or to just use periods in between words.

conclusion

if youre someone who is into the history of the old internet and has the time and ability to learn something new, PLEASE LEARN LEETSPEAK!!! it can be so so so so useful in the long run and i think it's a lovely way to communicate in secret, especially with how terrible internet secret and privacy has become in recent years, sometimes it can used as a last resort in order to make sure no one out there can be able to track and find you.

and its so much fun to figure out new ways to spell things! and the aesthetics of it can be very pretty!! and i just think its neat!!! please learn leetspeak!!!!!

here's some resources to help learn more about it:

Leet Speak Powerpoint Presentation (Live)

Leet Speak ABC

1337: Leetspeak

What Is Leetspeak: A Comprehensive Guide

1337 speak

[arquennial]

too shy to say this off anon lol but I just wanted to say reading your fic inspired me to start writing my own (never even written a fic in my life but the gale brainrot is powerful). 🥹 As someone who hasn't written in a long long time, thank you for the motivation to go for it! and if you have any writing tips I would love to hear them. Have a wonderful day!

😭 I’m SO happy to hear the fic has been an inspiration to get (back) into writing!! It brings me a ton of joy to hear it especially since this story was the reboot of my writing journey too and I figured out a lot as I went along - and I’m sure you will too 💜

As for writing tips, gosh 🥹 Hooo boy so as a longfic writer I’m not great at being brief!! but a few high-level thoughts:

Reading a LOT - of the kind of works you would like to write. Whether it’s epic fantasy, erotica, screenplays (esp for dialogue), whatever, consuming a ton of those works and studying how the authors are executing plot, characters, dialogue, etc. Especially important for skills you’re looking to develop - for example, for me atm that’s illustrating rather than introspecting, breaking out of linear timelines, and distinct character voices, but it could be anything!

Writing a LOT - the fic was the first big story I ever wrote and I posted as I went, and when I went back to edit Act 1 at the end of that 8-month process I was shocked by how much I had developed (and how much editing Acts 1 & 2 needed, lol - which I’m almost finished with now!). So yep just getting hands to keyboard and figuring it out as you go along is the way, and best of all you get stories out of it - at the beginning the quality and audience doesn’t matter as much as just doing it 😊

“Go where it’s hot” - A writer I know gave me this advice once when I asked “how do I know when to switch from outlining to writing prose?”, and I’ve found it hugely helpful in making any sort of decisions about what to work on. Writing is for you first & foremost, and in my experience the more excited you are the better the work!

Read up on theory - I only started reading and taking courses about writing halfway through the fic, which was…. uh, a little late 😂 The resources I’ve found most helpful are: 1) On Writing by Stephen King, 2) Brandon Sanderson’s writing class on YouTube, 3) Truth Is the Arrow, Mercy Is the Bow by Steve Almond, and 4) Steering the Craft by Ursula K LeGuin. And if you or others find any other great writing resources on your journeys please send ‘em my way because I’m always learning!

As a bonus I’d thrown in: Engage - this one is hard for me tbh because I too am shy! I literally just shared my tumblr on Chapter 105 of the fic 😂 and am slowly trying to comment more on AO3 and engage more in internet spaces. But it’s really helpful to talk to people about writing and share your work, whether it’s IRL friends or internet friends or writing groups. Definitely one I’m still working on!! In that spirit always feel free to ping me here for any other writing qs or if you need a beta reader for your first piece!

Good luck with the writing, I’m super excited for you & anyone else starting on this journey 👏🏻 and hope to see your Gale brain rot make its way to AO3 soon 😁 💜

[panickinganakin]

stepping stones to hell ch.4 (ronance fic)

hello! all previous chapters can be found here!

word count: 1,858

Robin cracked her fingers nervously. It didn’t matter how many years they had been at it, the feeling of anxious excitement always pooled in her stomach. They stood in the order they walked out in. Jeff, Lance, Robin and then Eddie. 

Jeff lifted up on his toes, waiting for Steve to give them the go in their ear pieces. Robin sucked in a breath as she heard him, “And, now.” 

Jeff bounced out of line with Lance following at his heels. The crowds screamed and hit Robin like a bag of bricks as she made her way out on the stage. She jogged over the drum set and took her seat. She was in absolute shock at the crowd. This was definitely the biggest show of their career so far. 

Eddie finally walked out and gave Robin a huge grin before sticking his tongue out. Robin knew it was time. She pulled her drumsticks from the pouch on the side of her set and puffed out a breath before bringing the first stick down. 

Her fingers buzzed as the drumsticks hit the tops of the instrument. Her, Jeff and Lance were about a minute into playing their intro when they shifted right into the opening song. Eddie stepped up to the microphone and the fans cheered before they started singing along with him.

These were a few hours that Robin lived for. She often wondered what life would be like had she not chosen to learn to play. She couldn’t imagine it really. There was nothing like performing in a huge ass room with thousands of people shouting the lyrics to your song back to you. 

As the second song came to end Gareth rushed up to Robin with a bottle of water. Eddie always stopped to talk for a moment between the second and third song. “Thanks,” she said before drinking as much as she could before handing it back to him. He rushed away to get ready. The fourth song was the first with keys on the setlist so he would be coming out soon. 

“Man, this place is packed. Did you know this is the first time we have sold this place out?” Eddie said into the microphone. Robin hit the drum a few times as the crowd cheered. “I mean completely sold out. Five thousand of you fuckers wanted to be in a room together to see us? Fucking wild. Chicago is always the best,” he took a step back as the crowd started screaming again. 

Jeff started the intro to the third song and Robin fell back into her rhythm. She looked over to the left to see Gareth entering the stage, taking his spot behind his keyboard. 

Robin looked back out to the crowd, searching the barricade. Off to the right of Eddie she could see Nancy. She was bouncing slightly, singing along to the song. Robin chuckled and shook her head slightly. Nancy Wheeler. She had always been full of surprises, even when they were younger. 

Gareth started playing which gave everyone a few seconds to drink water. Steve held a bottle out to Robin who chugged quickly then they were back at it. 

It was easy to lose herself in the performance. Throughout the songs she kept looking at Nancy who never missed a beat. She seemed to know every single one of their songs. Knowing this made Robin’s chest feel fuzzy in an affectionate way. Was Nancy actually a fan of their music or did she just listen because they had been friends? It made Robin feel guilty for not keeping up with her or knowing about her magazine sooner. Robin had always been good at staying in her bubble and it made her wonder what else she had missed. 

As they came to the end of another of Robin’s favorites, it was time for the song Nancy had said was hers. Which was also Robin’s. It took her awhile to get to be able to play drums good enough to have a solo. This song was the funnest for her to play but also it reminded her how rewarding all of her hard work was. Hours and hours of practicing most days and into the night to try and learn to play so quickly had paid off. 

They were exactly one verse away from finishing the song when Eddie stepped away from the microphone. Jeff and Lance also stepped a few paces back and Robin assumed they were either drinking water or taking shots. 

She glanced out at the crowd and saw Nancy staring at her with wide eyes. Others around her were jumping around and cheering but Nancy was almost statuelike. Robin grinned, making eye contact with her. She pounded against the drums quickly, always amazed with what she was able to do and how much energy it took to even do it. 

As the solo wrapped up and Eddie stepped back to the stage to finish the song Robin was still looking at Nancy. She was still unmoving, staring at Robin. Robin dipped her head slightly, hoping to convey the message ‘Yeah, that’s right, Wheeler. I know you’re impressed with me.’

Robin stepped off the platform and jogged toward the back of the stage where Steve waited with water. The current song had a long soft intro so she wouldn’t start until the middle. She drank the water gratefully before sticking her arms out to stretch them. “You crushed it, as usual.”

Robin laughed and nodded, “You should have seen Nancy’s face. She looked like she was frozen.”

Steve peeked around the curtain as if he could see her, “I’m glad she stayed. She tells me all the time how she loves the music but hasn’t been able to make coming work with her schedule.” 

“I never realized you kept in touch with her, honestly. I feel bad. If I had known what she was out there doing I could have been supporting her.”

Steve shrugged slightly, pulling the water from her hands. “You know now. It’s never too late to make up for lost time.”

Robin nodded in agreement before hurrying back to her spot. She missed no time in falling back into playing. 

They were almost done with the show and she always felt bittersweet at this moment. She had never been more herself than when playing a show. It was the one time of day when her worries seemed to fall away. When she was up here she could be whoever she wanted to be. The thought made her hear Steve’s words in her head from earlier, “Just be yourself.”

Then Nancy had said the same thing, “Just be yourself!” 

This was her being herself, at least now she was. Regret clouded her as she remembered the internal debate in the interview. She had wanted to be herself. She had wanted to tell Nancy about her being gay. That way it could be out. She had wanted to come out so her fans knew whos he truly was and so those who were going through what she was would maybe feel a little less alone. This was as close as she came to being who she knew she was. But.. How free would she feel if she could just say it? It wouldn’t feel like she was walking around with a constant secret. 

She had been so scared but for what? The people who mattered supported her. They loved her. It was herself she was unsure of. And why was that? She had known since she was young she was gay. 

Robin tried to shake her thoughts away as they finished the second to last song. The band hurried off stage together to have a minute before they came back from the encore. “I’m gonna tell her,” Robin said to Eddie as they stood behind the curtain. 

“Tell who what?” He raised an eyebrow, looking around to only see Steve and other crew members. 

“Nancy!” Robin said over the cheering. “I’m gonna tell her I’m gay. I’m going to have her put it in the article.”

Steve approached them with a look of surprise but Robin could see in his eyes that he was proud. “We’re gonna be home for two days. Nancy lives outside of Chicago. Find her after the show. Ask for a second chance tomorrow. She can wait to write the article after that and send it to print.”

“If this is what you want we support you, always,” Jeff said as he laid his hand on her shoulder. 

“Always,” Lance agreed. 

They closed around, even Steve and Gareth, to hug her tightly. “Gross, gross. You’re all sweaty, get off.” Robin said in an attempt to keep her emotions even. She wiped her eyes knowing they had brimmed with tears. “You’re going to make me ruin my eyeliner.”

“Time, go,” Steve directed them. They rushed the stage together, having little time to get to their spots to start playing. 

As the song was about to finish Eddie paused before the final chorus, “Thank you guys so much for an incredible night. You all are so fucking beautiful. We could never thank you enough or explain how much it means to be this close to home with such a turn out. Selling out a venue this big is not something we ever imagined we would do. I just want you to know that sometimes shit gets hard. Never give up. Always follow your dreams and you might just play a show for five thousand people. Also, also,” Eddie held up a hand before motioning behind himself, “Make some noise for our wonderful crew. Without them we couldn’t have pulled this off.” The crowd cheered and Robin clapped as well.

“Lastly, since we are so close to home. I would also like to say thank you to our friends for coming tonight. Dustin, Lucas and Nancy, we appreciate you guys and love you.”

More screams and cheers happened before Eddie fell back into song. 

Backstage Steve and Gareth waited for them, holding towels and water. Robin took a towel from Gareth and rubbed her forehead, “Thanks.”

“You guys killed it! That was so awesome!” Nancy said as she exited through a door with a security guy behind her. 

She hugged Eddie then Robin. Robin hugged her back, almost shocked before Nancy stepped back. This is probably the best show I’ve been to.”

“We try hard,” Lance said.

“It was incredible. I’m so glad I got to see it from the floor. I can’t wait to talk about your performance in the magazine.”

The guys started to shuffle around Nancy and Robin, heading back toward their locker rooms. “About the article,” Robin started. Nancy looked at her curiously but she continued, “I need to go over some things again. It might take awhile, are you busy tomorrow? We are home for two days.”

Nancy nodded quickly, “Yes of course! We can meet at Petey’s at one?” 

“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then?” 

“Okay!” 

“Great! I'm gonna go shower,” Robin laughed and waved at Nancy. She turned back to call out, “Thanks for coming!”

[raedear]

I wrote something very, very mean. I'm sorry.

Canon-divergent MCD, all hurt no comfort.

Somehow, Andy knows before Booker makes a single sound. There's some change to his face, his posture, a weakness to his hand on the keyboard of his laptop, and she knows.

He makes a noise like a wounded animal, small and piteous and full of pain, and Andy shuts her eyes. For the first time in her life, she prays. Prays that it was quick. That they didn't suffer.

That they went together.

Nile says something. Does something. Andy can hear her right at the edge of her perception, moving around the fire. Reaching for Booker maybe, who sobs like the world is crashing down around him; the way he sobbed when the first of his children died.

His tears got quieter with each one, until there was nothing left. No children, no sound.

'Andy,' Nile barks, grabbing her by the shoulders. Her hands are shaking. 'Help me!'

It's a wonder how much grief a person can bear. How different the limits are. Andy can't remember her youth. Not really. She carries her mother's axe but not the memory of her mother's face. She carries the knowledge that she grieved a sibling, but not their gender or their face.

She can't remember grief at all until Lykon left them. And then, like an unwelcome guest, grief made a home in her life. It lives in her now, filling every corner of her soul.

'Just the one?' Andy asks, opening her eyes to Nile's terrified face. Booker chokes on a sob, and then Nile knows too. Andy sees the knowledge bloom in her wide eyes.

'Both,' Booker grinds out eventually, through teeth clenched so hard around his tears that the words end up mangled and chewed. 'It's—They're—Both.'

Nile sits heavily, dropping with a thump from where she'd been crouched on her toes in front of Andy.

Her hands are still shaking. Andy watches them for a moment, and the way Nile can't seem to decide what to do with them, before she looks over the fire at Booker.

The laptop lies beside him, upside down with its screen on the cave floor and its keyboard sticking upright. Its screen is dull, but bright enough to illuminate Booker slumped beside it, collapsed in grief, hands over his face like he can hide from the whole world.

There will be time for tears later. There are things that must be done first.

'Where are they, Booker?'

'Andy—' Nile starts, looking at her in surprise. She isn't quite crying, but then again, she'd only known the boys a single night. Enough to like them, maybe. Not enough to love them.

She closes her eyes when Booker answers. Clutches at her cross and looks so terribly, awfully young that Andy's heart bleeds for her.

'London,' Booker says, his breath heavy, but mercifully free of sobs. 'They—Their—' he swallows heavily, throat jumping like he's about to vomit. 'They're in London.'

Andy has been many things in her long life, but she has never been stupid.

'Since Marrakech?'

Booker doesn't even flinch.

'Since Almaty.'

It feels like every single one of her years weighs her down as she gets to her feet. A chain so long and heavy it could circle the world wrapped around her neck; crushing her shoulders, hobbling her legs. She cuts the palm of her hand on a rough edge of the cave wall as she levers herself up, and feels it heal before she's even let go.

Maybe if pain could learn to linger in her skin it would leave her heart alone.

There are things to be done. Andy is always, always the one to do them.

'Tell me,' she says as she moves around the cave, collecting what she needs. Booker gasps wetly, but doesn't make her ask again.

'Joe—he,' there's that heavy swallow again. Andy knows it well. Joe used to jokingly duck and cover when Booker made that sound, hiding behind whoever happened to be closest to avoid what might follow a noise like that. 'He was. First.'

Andy pauses with her hands deep in the belly of a barrel, closing her eyes against the swell of grief that rises in the wake of Booker's words.

'How long?' she rasps, forcing herself to keep reaching for the money she stashed the last time she passed through this way. It doesn't really matter what his answer is. Any time was too long.

'An hour,' Booker whispers, so thick with shame it colours the air around him. 'Only an hour.'

Andy's at his side before she truly registers she's moved, her fingers twisted tight in the collar of his shirt. Booker looks at her, his eyes wet and completely clear. They heal too fast for red to build up in the white. Nicky used to kiss the tears from Joe's cheeks and claim it only made him more beautiful.

'Say that again,' she says softly, holding him up at his full seated height. 'Look at me and say that again.'

'I'm sorry,' whispers Booker through trembling lips.

'Only an hour,' Andy repeats, slowly. 'Only an hour, without him.'

When the next tear falls from Booker's eye, Andy strikes it from his face, dropping him as she does.

'Pack your shit,' she orders, leaving him where he fell. 'We're leaving in five minutes.'

There will be time enough to deal with him after.

Nile is crying now, Andy notices. Silent tears tracing heavy tracks down her cheeks.

'I can get you transport to Alaska,' Andy says, crouching beside her. 'And money to get you the rest of the way. I'll come find you when it's done.'

Nile nods, watching the fire.

In the best years of Andy's life, Quynh and Nicky used to take turns teasing and scolding her for being so quick to distrust people. So ready to see the worst in them. Joe stood up for her, singing her praises and writing odes to her heroism. Her kind heart. Her indomitable spirit.

Her kind heart lies in London, broken by an hour of grief beyond measure.

Her indomitable spirit lies at the bottom of the sea, crushed under its inescapable weight.

Her heroism did nothing for the people she loved most.

Andy helps Nile to her feet, and tucks her grief away behind her heart.

Grief is a polite squatter in her soul. It will wait patiently for her to do what needs to be done.

It has all the time in the world.

[cepetriwrites]

The Unexpected Second Life of Bree Tanner - Chapter 12

Read on AO3

Bree POV

The Cullens immediately vetoed the idea of me roadtripping to Nevada to visit my mother’s grave, after I had calmed down from my… not crying, I understood. I was still upset, but truth be told I wasn’t ready to trust myself around humans yet. Truthfully, if I had known Bella could stop me, I don’t think my gratitude would have kept me from killing her. And I didn’t feel a life debt to the rest of the humans. The Cullens didn’t eat people because it was wrong to kill other humans, it made them feel guilty. I don’t know how they managed to feel that way. Sometimes I would feel bad, hearing their screams, but I was so hungry all the time, nothing else mattered but trying to soothe the burning. I don’t even know if I actually liked the taste of blood, or if I liked how it soothed the pain.

A couple days had passed, when the kids were in school I spent most of my time trying to remember my mom. It’s like I had been drunk my whole life, everything felt hazy, Rosalie explained to me after I had a panic attack – at least I think it was, hard to tell when you don’t need to breathe – that if I focused on my memories, they would become clear again, and never fade. So that’s what I had been doing nearly every moment. Shifting through my memories, trying to remember everything, hoping it would help me piece together my mom.

Unfortunately there were a lot of bad memories too, sometimes I had to take breaks and I’d paint with Esme, or watch tv with Emmett, play a family board game. I wondered if it was worth all the pain it took, but my whole life I thought my mom had abandoned me, that my abusive father was the one who loved me, because at least he stayed. Eventually I figured I was just unlovable. But I had been wrong. My mom had cared about me. I had dug up a near-forgotten memories of pancakes in the morning, that we made together. I wanted to remember everything, because if I was wrong about my mom, maybe one day I would look back and realized other people had cared about me too. Despite what my dad used to say.

It did cause migraines, so I had decided to take a break and use the Cullen’s computer. I hadn’t gotten to use one much when I was human, of course the Cullens could afford the best. They kept reassuring me they could afford to fix anything I broke, that everyone had broken a lot of expensive stuff, but the idea of breaking this high tech computer with its Windows 95 system terrified me. I couldn’t bring myself to type on the keyboard so I would use a pencil when no one was looking. It made typing a lot slower.

“You don’t need to do that,” Rosalie said from the hallway, I dropped my pencil and nearly fell out of my chair. How does a vampire sneak up on another vampire?!

“I just… don’t want to break anything.”

Rosalie gave me a smile, “If it makes you feel better, what are you looking up?”

“Um,” I looked at the loading page for cinnamon sticks, I was in to deep to explain that. “just… learning how to use it.”

“Cool, do you want to go for a ride? I’ve upgraded the suspension on my baby and it rides like a dream, no humans.”

“Sure!” Driving in Rosalie’s car sounded fun, an opportunity Human Bree never would’ve gotten. Rose was the mechanic of the family, I had watched her do an oil change once, it felt weird seeing a supermodel covered in oil, but somehow she pulled it off.

Driving with the windows down, and the wind in our hair, I felt like a normal girl, I had bothered to ask how long we’d be out, it’s not like we had a curfew. She kept driving her convertible until we had to stop for gas. “Are we going back now?” I asked as she turned on to the road.

“Nope.” She said, putting her sunglasses back on.

I started to feel nervous, “Where are we going?”

“Nevada.”

“What!” I shouted, “Rosalie I can’t go to Nevada! Dr Carlisle and Esme said no!” I looked at her phone it had buzzed multiple times, when I had asked Rosalie said Emmett was messaging her and she’d answer later, then she had turned it off. “Rose… has Emmett been messaging you?”

“A couple times, but eventually the rest of the family figured out what was going on.”

I nervously gripped my seat belt, “We’re going to get in trouble! They found out! There’s a psychic in the family, why did you try to get away with this?”

“Try? I did, we’re too far away for them to get to us unless they get a flight, and even then, we’ll still reach our destination.”

“How did you even pull this off?”

“Because I’m smart and know things. Like that Alice sees everything, but can’t pay attention to everything, she’s only paying attention to if you cause trouble. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s also hyperfocused on throwing the best wedding and graduation party, and trying to see if the florist will get a cold, which means she’s slacking on watching you. I know that Edward can’t read your mind, and he’s too busy trying to spend every second with his precious girlfriend, and making sure her grades don’t drop because he’s trying to get her to start at one of the many colleges she’s applied too, and the ones he secretly applied to on her behalf. I knew that when Carlisle went to work, & Esme got roped into doing shopping with Alice in Seattle, that Jasper would be kept busy by Emmett and not even think about asking where we’re going. And I knew that I could drive for hours without Alice being the wiser as long as I didn’t think about where I was going.”

Never cross Rosalie Cullen, “What about us? We can’t go in the Sun and I don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.”

“That’s why I have the gloves and hats, you’re going to stay in the car. Besides you just ate and I can the news about your mom is making you much more empathetic, you’re not going to go hunting for anyone right now.”

“You were fearless as a human, weren’t you?” Rosalie replied by flashing her dazzlingly white teeth at me.

I didn’t know if Rosalie was right, but she sounded so confident, it was impossible to not believe her, so I turned up the radio and decided to enjoy the ride. Super massive black hole came blaring through, the wind was in my hair, I felt normal.

Almost twenty hours later we arrived at my hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada. The Sun was blazing in the sky, so Rosalie pulled over to a motel, she explained she had booked it in advance, and we hid out in a room with the curtains drawn tight. “This feels so risky,” I said as I relaxed on the spring mattress while Rosalie idly flipped through the tv channels.

Rosalie snorted, “You should ask Alice about her little ‘day trip’ to Italy, sometime. We’re the well-behaved ones of the family compared to her and Edward.”

“Really? But I’m the one who’s always thinking about eating people.”

Rosalie gave a sympathetic look, “Jasper has you beat still, we’ve had to move four times because of him, we try not to mention it. He always spirals into a depression after a slip up.”

The Cullens seemed so perfect to me, it was reassuring to hear they disowned their parents and sometimes accidentally ate a person. It made it easier for me to believe I could belong with them. “Hey Rose, if you brought me with spontaneously, how did you book the motel in advance?" I asked after a bit of silence.

“Oh, I had been planning to come down here, bringing you along was a last minute opportunity.” She didn’t have to explain why she would make a random trip out to the too sunny Las Vegas, I knew she was trying to help me learn more about my mom.

We laid there in comfortable silence for a few more hours, until Rosalie went to front office to attend to “some business”. When she returned, she had a white USPS box in her hands. I sat up, “What is that?”

Rosalie handed the box to me, “It’s um,” this was strange, I had never seen Rosalie nervous before. “It’s your mom.” My mouth hung open, “It’s why I came to Nevada. She didn’t have any next of kin left to claim her, so I had Emmett fake some paperwork and ship the remains to our motel.”

“Remains?”

“She was cremated,” Rosalie explained, “I hope that’s okay. This way you can always bring her with you.”

I slowly pulled out the plastic bag in the box. It was filled with gray dust, ashes, that used to be my mom. “HUMAN REMAINS” was stamped in bold letters, along with her name: Erica Tanner. I stared at the package for a long time, trying to understand how one person could end up being a few pounds of ashes. I ran my thumb over her name. “Hi Mommy.” If I could’ve cried a second time, I would’ve. Rosalie wrapped me in a hug until the sun went down.

The whole drive back, I kept my mother hugged tight to my chest. I was never going to let her go again.

[90frogsinatrenchcoat]

✴ 🎀 ~~~𝑀𝒶𝑔𝓃𝑜𝓁𝒾𝒶~~~ 🎀 ✴

'Magnolia:'

She wrote,

'An Open Love Letter to the Most Astounding, Deeply Astonishing, Brilliantly Philocalistic Woman I've Ever Known'

She paused, holding her hands painfully close to the keyboard of her laptop. She had only known her for 4 years. This seemed far from appropriate.. there was no occasion to prompt such a thing, nothing had happened in their lives to stir such emotion in her, and yet.. she found herself in quiescent serendipity as she typed this letter of adoration for a girl several months from her own age.

'There are 8 types of love. Historically, you are meant to learn these with several people, throughout your entire life. Yet, I find myself, so hopelessly enamored with you in a blazingly desperate platonic love in all its facets.

The first of the 8 loves, Philia, is Affectionate love; catalyzed by a bonding of the mind, reciprocated through deep conversation and support during hard times. You taught me this when my Parents divorced. When I needed a mother, you held me. When I cried over what I was losing, you held my hand. When no one would listen, you found me, and you looked me in the eye, and you told me that I was valid.

The second, is Pragma, Enduring Love; Enduring love, whose catalyst lies in the subconscious. Shown by creating long-lasting relationships with genuine effort. You stoked the small fire that was my heart till it was a burning blue flame and tended to it with everything you could spare.

The third love, Storge, Familiar Love; is Most often felt between a mother and child or childhood friends. I've only known you for 4 years- but those 4 years have been more constructive, and more familiar than any of my childhood ever was. I can recognize your voice, your hair, your eyes, your figure, all in mere seconds; your voice lights up my day and brings my rushing mess of a brain to a screeching halt.

The most important of the love you have taught me, however, is Philautia: Self Love. Through everything I have been through, through everything we have been through, you have taught me to be comfortable with my authentic self. Through years of pain and hardships, losses and pain, you have stayed so wonderfully true to who you are. And yet, you contribute that to me. And that is an honor I would never dream of accepting.

You say that I showed you how to be loud, how to take up space, how to be yourself.. and yet, I found that above all things in our friendship, the thing I envy most about you is your confidence. Every day you dress to impress yourself, not others. Despite your hardships, you smile. You always wear the bravest, most joyous smile. And the mere thought of providing you with that smile makes my heart pound violently in my chest, my eyes water and I feel a pang of guilt, guilt that I might not be good enough. You live in a storybook- a novel, where you find your way through the world. And I find myself to be a side character, the comedic relief that provides everyone with a laugh. The sidekick with big ideas but no clue what they're doing. And yet, whenever I say such things out loud, you silence my fears with the most amazing hug I've ever felt. You wrap your arms around me and tell me to be quiet. You tell me it's okay. You tell me I am my own person, my own main character.. it's just not my chapter yet.

So to Magnolia, the girl who taught me to be a woman when I had nothing but a broken heart and fragile mind, I thank you. And I wonder, alone in my heart, sleeping softly in the warmth of my now calm mind, if you would ever know the impact you have on me. If you would ever know how deeply I envy you, how desperately I plead with the universe to allow me to even begin to be like you. Every soft pastel princess has a deep green goblin companion.. and if I would have the privilege to be your sage green fairy friend, I would be happy. To see you be so happy, to see you falling in love, to see you finding yourself.. and to think that, had I not sat behind you that day during our freshman science class.. to think- although the thought terrifies me- that we might have never met.. I would give myself for you to be allowed to keep being you.

My last words to you, Magnolia, are this:

Keep being you. Keep being the prettiest girl in the world, in your golden gowns and bright makeup. And on the days you need rest, I will await you in your castle, holding a warm blanket and your favorite book, more than content to just be included in your story. You will always be the Prettiest Girl I've Ever Known. Inside and out.

She took in a deep breath, pressed save, and closed her laptop. She would never publish this letter. She knew the words she had just written would never be heard by another living soul. And though that pained her, she knew it was not her choice. Magnolia was her own person. Which meant she was her own person. And the time for thanks had not yet reared its head. So she put her laptop in her bag, zipped it up, grabbed her purse, and set out to find herself, guided by a Magnolia compass.

[jolselin]

the thing about the main cast of moonlight chicken is that while the show is nominally centered around jim you could also make six different shows focused on each of the characters (so the hypothetical jim show would be even more about jim and a bit less about, for example, li ming) and they would all be great and interesting. i've just been thinking that if i had been given just one additional episode of mlc i would love to see a fuller picture of alan and wen's relationship and how wen fell out of love and then i thought i would watch a show told entirely through wen's perspective and with more of his background and then of course i thought i would even more gladly watch the alan show with both his backstory and the continuation of his storyline past the end of the original show (the alangaipa spinoff we deserve) and then i thought we saw even less of gaipa, in a way, so that would also deserve more spotlight, and finally there's so much to know about heart from the keyboard in his room to him learning sign language (we have to assume all by himself?) and to him finding community among deaf/hard of hearing people of pattaya and then of course to his university adventures in rochester. and as for li ming well one just has to check the tag to see that like half the audience either would rather watch the li ming show or treats the original as the li ming show.

so mlc could really be any of these shows but instead it's kind of like a little bit of everything with the focus on jim but not as much as if it were mainly a jim show. the trade-off is that you actually get so many wonderful characters and stories coming together in one show and isn't that great

[iloveabunchofgames]

#JakeReviewsItch

Arigatou, Ningen-san!

by Michelle Ma

Price (US): Name your own price

Included In: Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality

Genre: Visual Novel

Pitch: Walk through town finding and petting funny animals. A short, bilingual picture book.

My expectations: Looks super cute. I don't see a single written word in any of the screenshots, and its style is completely unlike any other visual novel I've reviewed so far. I'm feeling good about this.

Review:

If you have a very young child and an iPad, download Arigatou, Ningen-san! right away. It’s going to be a huge hit in your house. For those of us who aren’t churning through a stack of picture books every night, the appeal will be limited.

A bird named Tori-san (“tori” is Japanese for bird) lands on your house and explains that animals around town need love and attention, setting off a linear journey to find five animals across three screens.

A snake named Hebi-san (go ahead and guess the Japanese word for snake) is hiding behind a not-at-all-subtly rustling plant. The other four animals aren’t hiding at all, which feels like a missed opportunity.

Once an animal is found, it must be squashed and stretched, with animations that are guaranteed to send any toddler into paroxysms of giggles. And that’s all there is to it.

The two-finger controls are built for a touchscreen. On a PC, this is emulated by holding Ctrl while clicking. It works, but it’s inelegant. The writing is cute enough, but it’s not the star of the show. The music and sound effects are fitting, but again, they’re not spectacular. It’s all about funny, squishy animals.

+ Cuuuute. + Funny! + Perfect for tiny kids who are just starting to take an interest that flat, glowing thing you always have in your hand. + Maybe 5-10 minutes from start to finish.

– The animal-squishing scenes take a little too long for my liking. You squish and squish and squish, and at some point—I could never quite figure out the trigger—the animal says, "Cool, that's enough," and the scene ends. – Little variety. How about some more hide and seek? What if all the animals didn't have the exact same request? – Unintuitive mouse and keyboard controls. The game refers to two-finger touchscreen operations as "zoom and pinch"—wouldn't it make more sense to map these actions to the mouse wheel or the right mouse button? Take it easy on the toddlers. – All text is displayed in both English and Japanese at all times. I love that it's bilingual; I'm confused by the execution. As an English speaker who is trying to learn Japanese, it's too complex for me. Most text boxes contain multiple sentences, so I have a hard time comparing the two languages. A furigana option would be helpful, as early readers like myself will likely find the some of the kanji impenetrable. Since there's no recorded speech, I must assume everything's meant to be read by mommy or daddy. If said parent is already fluent in two languages—these specific languages—they're probably capable of translating the writing on their own, leaving me to wonder why all text is displayed in both English and Japanese at all times.

🧡🧡🧡🤍🤍 Bottom Line: Arigatou, Ningen-san is free, it's cute, and the picture book crowd will flip for its funny animal squishing. By the way, have to looked up "ningen" yet? That one will catch you off guard.

#JakeReviewsItch is a series of daily game reviews. You can learn more here. You can also browse past reviews...

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[webdevguru]

Learn Web Development

Programming is the new literacy!

Everybody needs to learn to code.Computer Programming is the new literacyif you can’t code you’ll soon become obsolete plus coding is easy so you really have no excuse .These are all statements that arenot true.But a fear-based myth , that forces you to register for any bootcamp / course mindlessly.

Tips and Techniques for Programming

Today I will be sharing a variety of practical techniques that have have helped me learn to code and will help you as well. Learning in and of itself is a skill and if you want to be a software engineer or learn computer programming free ,you’ll need to learn new things all the time.

At some point , I didn’t know how to code. I wanted to know how to learn computer programming by yourself . I hated my low paying miserable job and wanted to build some kind of app on the internet that would allow me to break out and start my own business. I figured I wasn’t smart enough to code but suddenly my family business needed a website . So I figured I was at least smart enough to learn HTML. Refer this to learn web development and somehow a few months later I figured out how make my first website. Check out coding news and other stuff here.

1. Hard Work

One thing to realize when learning to code is that hard work is more valuable than talent .Talent is great if you have it and there are 10x developers out there where things just resonate on a much higher level .But computer programming is a skill very similar to playing a musical instrument or juggling .For most people you totally suck at first then you feel like a genius. When you code your first program then you realize you totally suck again and this pattern goes on and on forever in an infinite loop. Learning is supposed to be painful in fact I believe that you need pain to grow .

In programming you’ll have to bang your head against the keyboard a bunch of times until you figure out how to make these error messages go away. So if you don’t have talent , be prepared toembrace the hard work.

2. Patterns Over Syntax

Now as you learn you might be wondering whichprogramming languageshould I start with.The truth is that it doesn’t matteras long as you get really good at one of them. The thing about programming is that there’s so much to learn you are never going to retain it all. I used to be a really good C++ programmer,but at this point I’ve forgotten almost everything about it.

And that’s no big deal becausememorizing syntax doesn’t really matterthe thing you really want to learn and retain are programming patterns. Essentially everything you do in programming is problem solving. The idea is to create a repertoire of tools in your brain that you can then use to solve virtually any problem in any language. For example if you need to loop over something but you’ve never used PERLbefore you still understand the trade-offs between a for loop while loop and recursion.

This is the exact reason that when you go to a technical interview they usually don’t care which language you use they just want to see that you know how to solve problems and in some cases they may only have you write pseudocode on a whiteboard to analyze your problem-solving skills. So in learning I would recommend trying out a few different languages and learn the one that feels most natural to you .

For most people I think Python is ideal because it has a minimal syntax is extremely popular and is also just a very useful language to know in general but javascript,kotlinandswiftare also good languages to start with. Learn more about it here CODING, best computer programming courses for beginners.

[rabbit-dance]

Okay, this gives me All The Feels. For one, there's the Obvious feels because this is, simply put, beautiful. He can play again. The thing that makes him happiest. It's beautiful and I'm so glad his story has a happy ending and that we get to see it.

But this hits me extra hard because my story is similar. It's long, so it's below the cut.

So, I've been drawing my whole life, and I've apparently loved comics since before I could talk. My mom found one of my earliest drawings that wasn't a mass of scribbles on a page. I drew "panels", and in each of them were two different-colored blobs, my characters, with circles full of wavy lines and hash marks for word balloons above them. They were talking to each other, with the "words" appearing over one, and then the other in the next panel. My first comic. Apparently Tiny Rabbit was a comedic genius, because mom said that when I brought the comic to her I was laughing so hard I could barely walk. I couldn't speak much at that age, but she knew that I had, at least to myself, successfully written down a joke. Fast forward a bit, and I'm in college for animation. This was in 2000. It was a shiny new century, and technology in the field was racing forward at an almost alarming rate. I was right in the middle; old enough to learn traditional hand-drawn techniques, but young enough to be learning 3D animation and modeling with the latest programs and equipment. Best of both worlds!

It was wonderful but grueling, even in school. Remember the animator strikes that just happened? Yeah, that culture was taught. We were encouraged to draw with both hands so that if when the one hand gave out, you could pick up your pencil with the other and keep going. Only about 30% of students even made it through the animation program. Just like the industry, it was notorious for chewing people up and spitting them out.

But I'm stubborn as hell, and I did it.

This is where my story gets familiar. We've all heard this one. There's a promising young athlete, fresh out of college, who gets to do their thing professionally. They're doing okay. Not the head of the pack, but they definitely don't suck, and they're a favorite for advancement. Then they blow out their knee and their career is over before it's started. Oh, well. Them's the breaks, kid.

That was me with my hands. Carpal tunnel in both of my wrists. Potential permanent nerve damage. My fingers would sometimes lock up into little T-Rex claws like our pianist's up there. Pain that rivaled my migraines would shoot up my arm when I tried to grip a pen or hold a mouse. For a while I could hardly type. My doctors had never seen damage like mine in someone my age, especially with no other health problems that could affect it. They said that with surgery, the gods smiling on us, and if I was the best physical therapy patient ever, the best I could get was 70% function.

And that I could never be a professional artist again.

I felt like a fish that was just told I wasn't allowed to swim anymore. To say that I felt bad about it would be an understatement, but I couldn't wallow in it. Bills had to be paid, but what could I do? I have severe vertigo. I can't drive. My hands and wrists were toast, and I couldn't use a keyboard or reliably carry anything heavy.

My one grandpa had taught me metalwork growing up. Brazing, soldering, etc. I've always been a beader (Natives gonna bead, yo), I'd picked up chainmaille as a hobby, and I've always liked jewelry. So, I became a jeweler. I started with chainmaille, and over the years I expanded my tools and skills to get to silversmithing, engraving, etc. All that fancy jeweler stuff.

"But Rabbit," you ask, "Isn't that hard on the hands?"

A valid question! Turns out, how I hold my tools is different than how I hold my pencil. Even when I couldn't draw, I could still make jewelry. Eventually I got to where I could use my computer and such again, and I did start drawing, but only a little bit here and there. Doodles, really. They scratched the itch, but nothing more.

So, I built a nice little business as a jeweler selling at shows and festivals. My wife, kiddo and I were doing okay. I could manage a little bit of drawing every day; less than an hour, but it was something. I even made some coloring books and self-published them on Amazon. I said I was stubborn, remember?

Enter The Plague.

We all know that sucked for artists who rely on events to get by, so I'll spare you that part. What's important is that I, whilst doomscrolling (everyone's favorite quarantine activity), came upon a picture from 2002 that was shared on one of the Native pages on FB. It was taken outdoors, at night, at a college bonfire party. I was in it, along with about a dozen other people. I had been visiting family on the rez with my grandma, and my cousin invited me to the party.

What was a fun memory for me was quickly destroyed when I learned that I was the only person in the photo still alive. Everyone else had died from Covid.

Quick aside if you didn't know - The pandemic sucked for everyone, but it hit Indigenous folks HARD. Look it up if you want to be mad about something. It's awful.

Anyway, that made me take a long, hard look at my life and what I wanted out of it. I wanted to make a comic book. I'd always dreamed of it, and had even started several in high school and college, but I only got a few pages in before I quit. Life and my own insecurities got in the way. But now, with no shows to work towards in quarantine and an old flame burning again, I had plenty of time and nothing to lose. I had a story idea rattling in my head, too.

One about plague doctors.

So, I went back to have my hands looked at. I was going to make a comic book come Hell or high water, but I wanted to know where I stood, first. The doctors were amazed! The years of using all of the many different tools in my metalworking had strengthened my hands and wrists. I'd learned to take breaks, and how to do the right stretches. 95% functionality!

I was cleared to draw.

That was almost exactly three years and one month ago. I told myself then that I would start drawing on January 1st, 2021. To prepare, I started outlining, got Clip Studio Paint, dusted off the old Wacom, and decided to stream it to keep myself accountable.

I'm coming up on almost two years of drawing for hours every day I possibly can. I'm on Issue Five of the comic, and I'm working to get Issue Three ready for printing. I'm still excited about the story, and I get a rush every time a panel really comes together. Evie and the kiddo say they've never seen me happier, and I don't know how I could be.

As I watch this old man play with his bionic gloves, I look at the black drawing glove on my own hand, and smile.

I understand, João Carlos. I hope you play every day, for years to come.

Thanks to a pair of a bionic gloves, this 80-year-old classical pianist can finally play the piano again. The maestro, João Carlos Martins, had lost dexterity in his hands due to aging and health complications. His face at being able to play piano again says it all. 🎶

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