#pay. i’d rather work on my own fucking terms with commissions than go into any job where i have to interact with others in public for any

[flippedorbit]

do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?

[msbarrows]

Watched a bit of the coverage of the ongoing circus-that-is-the-US-House-of-Representatives today. Had to stop watching it at the point where a new round of nominations was starting up, because I dislike listening to speeches by even my own politicians at the best of times and that was just... fuck off. Go get fired directly into the sun, you hypocritical asshats.

Anyway. Had me thinking about how GD thankful I am to live in a country with a (relatively) sane system of democracy.

We don’t have the insanity of a two-party system or an electoral college or related nonsense. Anyone can form a party, though you don’t start seeing official taxpayer-paid support for it until it’s won a minimum number of seats. (And oh, the delightful schadenfreude of watching the old federal conservatives tank so hard they lost official party status).

We don’t have horseshit like gerrymandering, because we started fixing that noise back in the 60s, and today it’s all done by purposefully non-partisan independent commissions who mostly aim to make nice neat rectilinear shapes rather than Escher’s carefully curated salamanders.

The right to vote is enshrined in our constitution, and afaik at this point in time we don’t exclude anyone who is old enough to vote (except the Chief Electoral Officer and the Deputy Chief Electoral Officer themselves). Not by race, not by gender, not by present or past criminal status, not by age (apart from old enough to vote), not even by physical location (as of 2019). You can live abroad for years at a time and still be a Canadian eligible to vote in Canadian elections (though figuring out what riding you’re eligible to vote in might take a little more work than normal, if you haven’t maintained a Canadian address).

And registering for the vote is stupidly easy here. Elections Canada maintains the roles, and there’s none of that constant door-to-door data-gathering going on. You pay taxes? There’s a check box to share your name and address with Elections Canada. Do a change of address via Canada Posts’ address service? Part of the service is that they inform Elections Canada. Plus there’s a web site, phone numbers, local offices... And if all else fails, you can register at the polls on election day itself, just bring all the right ID along. And “all the right ID” includes a lengthy list of possibilities. Obviously any government issued ID counts (from any level of government), but also things like a student ID card. Library card. Label on a prescription container. Utility bill. Bank statement. Letter of confirmation from a student/old age/long term care residence, a shelter, or even a damned soup kitchen. Failing all else, haul along someone else who does have ID, fill in a form declaring your name and address in writing, and have the person with ID vouch that you are who you say you are.

In a real democracy, the goal is to encourage as many people as possible to get out and vote, not to put roadblocks in their way.

Though I do kind of wish we’d adopt Australia’s “don’t vote, get fined” system. And I say that as someone who can’t always be bothered to take the time to walk to the polls and vote, because I know given a choice between walking over or paying a $50 fine on my next taxes, I’d probably walk over. (I also wish we’d adopt their get a sausage while you’re at it thing).

[itsamejin]

the one that got away || hendery angst || part 2 (finale)

Part 1

Summary: Some days you don’t regret the decision to leave him, but most days you do.

Warning: self-hatred, insecurities, mutual pining

Genre: angst, fluff, mutual pining

Pairing: Hendery x reader

Premise: You two broke up and that should’ve been the end of it, but he sends you a message and all of a sudden it isn’t.

Commission Request: @iron-lix​

Word Count: 4,164 words

—

hey, its guanheng. just got your new number lol, wanted to know if you would like to catch up sometime and talk? Idk… just text me back if u want to

You were tempted to delete it, bury it in your trash bin along with all the other concerned messages Guanheng sent you before you blocked his number. It would’ve been the right thing to do, to end any sort of contact before you could hurt yourself further. Insecurity nagged at the back of your brain, yet you find yourself texting him back anyway.

if you want

Short. Simple. Enough to get the message across, but not enough to make him think you were desperate. Did you come off as desperate? Please, don’t make him think-

omg

u actually replied!! 

how are you???

and im free on sunday 

do u wanna meet up then?

The bombardment of texts brought a sad smile to your face. It really was him. It was Guanheng. No person used question marks as liberally, no person sent that many texts consecutively. You hesitate to answer. Too much could go wrong for you to risk seeing him again. You could break down in tears and be left in the dust, similar to how you had left Guanheng just a year earlier. 

You convinced yourself that there was nothing left to talk about, there was no more closure needed. You two broke up cleanly and it should stay that way. 

i’m doing fine, and yeah i’d love to :)

Your thoughts contradict your actions and you find yourself burying your face in your hands, frustrated at how easily you agreed. What the hell was wrong with you? You blocked him for a reason, you wanted to get over him. Agreeing to “catch up” with an ex wasn’t getting over him. You would only end up missing him more after all was said and down.

What made you think that you deserved to see him after all you had done?

—

At a small cafe on the outskirts of Macao, you reconsider every decision you made that led up to this point. You fiddle with your fingers, wondering why you even decided to paint your nails like he’d even pay attention to them in the first place. You scratch at the polka-dotted dress you wore, cursing at yourself for wearing his favorite color- pink. You purse your lips, regretting putting on such heavy makeup to hide the dark circles that formed underneath your eyes from the sleepless night you had. You couldn’t get a wink of rest knowing you’d see his face again after so long.

You should’ve just stayed home, should’ve just blocked his number as you did all those months ago.

“Hey,” a gentle voice calls out, interrupting your negative thoughts. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s actually you.”

You look up from your lap, Guanheng staring at you with the brightest smile on his face. He takes the seat across from you hesitantly as if he still wasn’t sure he came to the right table. No one recognized him here in this reclusive cafe, but he still couldn’t find it in himself to relax. Especially with you in front of him.

“It’s been a while,” you smile sadly. Your voice was shaky and Guanheng noticed. He noticed everything.

“Did you order yet?” he asks, equally nervous, but with a large grin on his face. His hand reached out to grab a piece of paper on the table thinking it was the menu. Sadly, it was not. You giggle slightly at his awkward expressions as he slid it back to where he got it from.

“That’s the placemat,” you inform him. “They were planning to give us the menu when you came.”

He cringes at himself. ‘Why do I always find a way to fuck things up?’ he cries in his mind. Guanheng thought he could’ve introduced himself more smoothly.

“Y-yeah,” he scratches the back of his head. “I probably should’ve known that.”

You two sat in silence even as the waitress planted the menu on the table. You let Guanheng order for you, surprised he still remembers your favorite drink. You wonder if his stayed the same too.

“...and I’d like a black coffee,” he smiles widely, bidding the waitress goodbye. He sees the small scowl etched on your face, but doesn’t quite know why. He used to never drink black coffee. It was too bitter for him and he always overreacted when the liquid would touch his tongue. You couldn’t believe that had changed in just a year- just like him.

You inspect his face blankly as he chatters about something nonsensical, trying to fill in the silence that you had left him with. Guanghen’s hair is shorter now, trimmed in a way that highlighted his boyish features perfectly. He wore a dress shirt, cuffed at the elbow. He wouldn't have been caught dead looking so suave in the past, opting for comfortable hoodies and beanies so ill-fitted that they hid his eyes. You were looking at Hendery, a version of him that existed on magazine covers and photo cards. You clutch the ends of your dress. See [Y/N]? He’s fine without you.

He stops his talking when he notices your lack of enthusiasm. You used to love hearing him talk, but you looked at him with such emptiness that he wondered if his voice was grating in your ear. He stares at you too, a sad glint in his eyes. Your face, although beautiful, was tired and sunken. You had a dullness in your complexion. You no longer glowed as you used to when he was yours- or to put it in terms that he liked better- when you were his. You shake him out of his own wallowing thoughts.

“How’s Korea?” you ask, knowing he had been promoting there recently. You hear from his friends that he loves it there, that the European-esque streets of Macau got too boring for him. He liked the hustle and bustle of Seoul, the capital of entertainment and fast-paced living. “Your new album doing well?”

Guanheng is happy that you asked, afraid you had lost interest in his work after the breakup. He was so afraid you had lost interest in him.

“It’s been great!” he nods thoughtfully. “We’re planning something soon, so I only have a week here before I go back. It’s been hectic...”

You purse your lips. It must be rough on him, only getting to stay with his family for such a short period of time. Guanghen must miss it- all of this. The city, the humidity, the people... maybe not you, but maybe the memories that came with the relationship. You sure miss it too.

“How about you?” he breaks the silence, noticing that your glances were drifting off somewhere else. “Anything interesting going on in your life?”

You shake your head and give a fake smile. He hates seeing it. Guanheng would prefer for you to curse him out than for you to act fake towards him. It’s like you couldn’t let your guard down with him... and he used to be the only person you let your guard down with. This wasn’t how usually were, but then again, he hasn’t seen you in a year. Could you have changed so drastically that the sight of his face made you that uncomfortable?

“Nothing notable,” you sigh, staring past him rather than right at him. “I’ve been thinking of moving out of Macau for a fresh start, you know? Somewhere new...”

‘Somewhere that doesn’t remind me of you,’ you say silently to yourself. You see a flicker of a pained expression, but you get distracted when the waitress delivers water to the both of you. You stir the water with the straw, glad you found another distraction to keep yourself from making eye contact with Guanheng.

“I wouldn’t have an excuse to visit,” he says teasingly, but you could feel grit in his tone. “if you weren’t here.”

You blink rapidly, not quite registering his words. What was he saying?

“What about your family? Your friends?” you question. There were a lot of things that came with this city, it’s not like you were the only one living here. You figured you’d be the last thing on his mind these days. Guanheng just shrugs.

“They visit me often,” he sighs. “But you don’t. You never visit.”

He gives a sad chuckle, sipping from his cup lowly. Your mouth opens, but not a sound comes out and so you close it again. How were you supposed to respond? Guanghen sighs at your silence.

“You blocked my number.”

Your heart cracks at the sound of his voice. He played around with the straw, refusing to look at you. He sounded... sad and you wondered if the reason for his sadness was you. Weren’t you usually the reason?

“Guanheng-” “You don’t have to say anything,” he stands up straight, a panicked look on his face. He realized then that he made the atmosphere even tenser than it already was. “I’m not here with any other intentions except to talk to you. I know... I know that...”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t know how to without sounding desperate. ‘[Y/N] I know that it’s been a year, but would you like to start over even though you might not have feelings for me anymore?’ Yeah, no way he would be caught dead saying that out loud- not when you looked at him with such emptiness.

“What’s wrong Hendery?” 

You wonder why the person with the brightest smile in the world had such furrowed brows as he looked into your eyes. And maybe that was your first mistake. Calling him by his stage name. 

“Hendery?” he scoffs.

“I’m sorry,” you say a little shocked at his angry expression. “Did I overstep-”

“Why would you call me that?” he asks with sad eyes. “Why are you treating me like I’m a stranger?”

Your last chance at getting closure and you had said something wrong that made him uncomfortable. You blew it, didn’t you? Of course, how could you be such an idiot?

“I’m so sorry I didn’t-”

“Hendery,” he repeats, still shocked at your words. “You never call me that. Not even when we dated.”

Dated. Past tense. He wasn’t yours anymore and you needed to accept that. Guanheng was right there telling you to. You were out of your mind for thinking this was going to turn out like you expected, that he would walk back into your arms without hesitation.

“I can’t do this,” you say abruptly, standing up from your seat. “Guanheng I’m sorry it was a mistake even meeting up with you.”

“[Y/N]-”

You walk past the table, feeling bad for the cafe workers that were oblivious to your sudden outburst. You took out your wallet from your shoulder bag, setting down cash to make up for the food that hadn’t arrived at your table. The worker stared at you with large eyes.

“Ma’am-” 

You were already out the door, tears threatening to spill over. Guanheng came to talk, came to have a chat with an old friend that happened to be his ex-girlfriend and all he got was an awkward conversation that showed how broken you were without him. You walk and walk, missing the bus stop that you were supposed to wait at until you hear rapid footsteps behind you.

“[Y/N] wait-”

Guanheng wraps his fingers around your elbow and pulls you to face him. You couldn’t bear to look at him, staring at your feet rather than his face.

“Just let me walk you to the bus stop. It’s dangerous for you to walk alone,” he says, the hand that was on your elbow was shaking. “I’m sorry for acting weird back there. It wasn’t even something serious and I freaked out over nothing-” “No,” you say shaking your head, pulling his hand away from you. He felt empty now that you were out of his reach. “I was the one that overreacted.”

“Don’t,” he says sadly. “Don’t apologize to me.”

You finally gather the guts to look up at him directly, but you regret it almost immediately. You notice up close that he’s still the scared kid who couldn’t believe he was called in for an audition by a massive foreign company. It makes you want to embrace him, comfort him from all his worries, and tell him that it’ll be okay. Except it isn’t. It hasn’t been for a while.

—

Under a flickering streetlight, you sit at the bus stop’s bench with tense shoulders. He sits farther away from you, careful of the watchful gazes from the public and any sneaky cameras around patiently waiting for him to mess up.

“I miss taking bus rides late at night,” he admits, not looking at you in fear of people watching. “It feels different somehow.”

You smile sadly.

“Yeah. We used to ride one from school together.”

He nods, biting the inside of his cheek. Words used to flow naturally when he was with you, but he had to go and mess it up at the cafe by feeling offended over something that was trivial. So what if you called him by his stage name? It's been a year since he’s last seen you- of course, you’d have been more cautious about what to call him. He was stupid, so hopelessly stupid.

“I miss the rivers too,” he mutters. “I miss those overpriced boat rides tourists would pay for.”

He chuckles sadly, reminiscing of a time when you had gone with him. When you were his and he was yours.

‘Most importantly I miss you,’ he thinks to himself, but he balls his hand into a fist before he could say anything else. You hated this, hated that he always held back before saying the most important thing.

“Guanheng,” you start, heart beating rapidly from your chest. “Why did you want to see me?”

His eyes waiver and you could see it glisten in this light. Did you say something that made him uncomfortable yet again?

“I just,” he swallows, not finding the right words, “wanted to see if you were doing okay.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he replies, “I feel like you’re doing fine.”

‘Without me,’ he screams in his head. Guanheng doesn’t notice you bowing your head or the tears that had started to form in your eyes. He was too caught up in his own tears that threatened to spill over, but he convinced himself to hold it in. 

“Well, I’m not,” you broke out with a cry, already knowing you were past looking pathetic. You let the tears fall onto your lap. He doesn’t notice at first, but Guanheng snaps his head to you, no longer caring about his surroundings. He slides closer, patting you on the back.

“What's wrong?” he asks worriedly. “Did I say something again?”

“No,” you say, looking up at him and he swore his heart sunk at that moment. Even when you broke up with him your eyes never looked this hurt. Guanheng didn’t even know he had that effect on you anymore. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Well obviously I did if you look like this right now,” he says angrily, more at himself than at you. He wipes away the tears from your eyes, but it only made you wail harder. He was still so good at comforting people, still so gentle. You wished that he wouldn’t stare at you with such caring eyes and give you false hope- hope that he wanted you back just as much as you wanted him. It wasn’t right to be feeling this way when you were the one that broke up with him. You had no right.

“I’m so sorry,” you cry out, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. 

“What are you sorry for?” he asks worriedly. His eyes, too, were turning red.

“For ignoring you when you needed me most.”

A silence falls between you two and his grip on you tightens. This was a conversation you two should’ve had a year ago. He didn’t quite know why it was being brought up now, but at least now he can ask what he’s been dying to figure out.

“Why did you block me?” he questions solemnly.  “Why did you agree to be friends and then just cut me off like that?”

You purse your lips.

“I’m sorry for-”

“Please,” he begs, hands letting go of you. “Answer me just this once.”

You try to gather yourself but fail miserably. How could you when this was potentially the last time you’d ever see Guanheng again? 

“I was scared,” you answer truthfully.

“Of what?”

You take a deep breath and sigh.

“That you might hate me.”

Guanheng tips your head to face him, a serious look on his face.

“I’d never hate you.”

He looked at you with such softness- the kind you haven’t felt in so long.  At that moment you could trust him, at that moment you felt like everything would be okay. 

‘It’s alright if he does,’ you think to yourself. If he hates you then fine, but you needed to tell him one last time. Then there’d be no regrets. Maybe then you’d have the guts to finally leave, start anew in a place that didn’t remind you so much of him, but that’s probably impossible to do because Hendery was the sun itself, and you were just you.

“I still love you,” you whisper solemnly, “and I hated that you let me go so easily when it was so hard for me to let go of you.”

His mouth falls open and you swear you see hurt in his eyes, so you turn away. Regret always came after your worst decisions.

“You thought I let you go easily?” 

A stray tear had fallen down his cheek.

“I’m so sorry I-”

“Stop being sorry,” he pleads. “I hate hearing you apologize when it was my fault too.”

You look up at him, confused.

“I should’ve fought harder for us,” he continues. “I should have told you that I loved you back then and that I could’ve made it work. I can’t believe you thought I was okay with breaking up. I said we should stay friends just so I could have an excuse to talk to you again and you kept ignoring my texts and I thought I was being annoying and-”

He always used to ramble a lot when he was anxious. Guanheng takes a deep breath and puts your hands in his. The bus was not coming anytime soon.

“What I’m trying to say is,” he mutters. “I still love you too.”

You shake your head, refusing to believe his words. He just felt sorry for you, he didn’t mean-

“I tried dating other people,” he says matter-of-factly, breaking your heart a tiny bit because you hadn’t. You never tried to venture past him because it had always been him, always. 

“Guanheng, why-”

“But it just didn’t work out,” he cuts you off, swallowing his saliva nervously, “because they weren’t you.”

You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off again.

“I sent you text after text asking you to take me back,” he sighed sadly. “But I never sent them because I knew you wouldn’t even see them anyway. I told the guys about you and they said it was a lost cause, that I should move on.”

“But you didn’t,” you whisper, touched by his words. Guanheng shakes his head.

“I didn’t,” he smiles as he intertwines his fingers within yours. “And maybe it’s messed up to say this, but I’m glad you didn’t either.”

You laugh with him, the tears dried by now. You look at him, his eyes crinkling  so beautifully as he smiles. 

The bus came seconds after under the flickering street light where you two share a chaste kiss. His lips tasted the same and you can’t help but grin.

It was still him. It was still Guanheng.

—

He walks with you, his hand bumping into yours one too many times that he just held yours in his. It didn’t feel real, being so close to him again. Maybe you had gone through hurdles to get to where you two were now, but at least he was back where he wanted to be- by your side. You two talk about anything and everything and let a comfortable silence fall in between you two when there wasn’t a need for conversation. 

Guanheng asks you what you watch recently. Netflix documentaries. You ask him what songs he listens to nowadays? You cringe when he says Justin Bieber. He laughs when you laugh, walks at the same pace as you, calls you pet names. It’s like he never left, but you knew that in a week from now, he will leave. And maybe you’ll go back to wallowing in your own sadness again.

You’re already at the steps leading to your house, but he refuses to let you go, so you let him inside. He smiles at the lack of change.

“My stuff’s still here,” he says in awe, picking up the small robot figurine that was propped up on your coffee table. You fluster at his words.

“I didn’t have the heart to throw them away,” you mutter. He smiles at you.

“Do you still have my clothes here?” he asks. You panic.

“Oh, do you want them? I can go-”

“So I can stay the night then, right?” he asks seriously. You wonder if he thinks himself a comedian. You punch him in the arm with a puff of your breath.

“We haven’t even seen each other for more than a day and you-”

“Not like that,” he chuckles, realizing what he had implied with his statement. “I just want to sleep here. With you. Innocently. 

You stare up at him, unconvinced.

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get kidnapped?” he whines, giving you those puppy dog eyes that you missed so much. You miss him so much.

You click your tongue at him, walking to your bedroom as he follows right behind. You scathe through your closet, pulling out the comfy clothes he always wore. You could never admit to him that you’ve been sleeping in them for the past year since he was gone. He takes them from you.

“Then I’ll go change,” he says with a cheeky smile. You roll your eyes, getting dressed for bed as well. Guanheng takes a seat on your bed and lays down next to you. He watches you silently for a while before he starts stroking your hair.

“Move to Seoul with me,” Guanheng jokes casually. You take him seriously for a second, but notice the Cheshire grin on his face and decide to play along.

“I don’t know anyone there,” you pout, squeezing his hand lightly.

“You know me.”

You roll your eyes.

“You know that’s not enough,” you scoff. “I need a job, I’ll miss my family and-”

Why were you taking this so seriously? Your face heats up with embarrassment. How could you let yourself be carried away by his simple teasing?

He smiles at you, patting your head softly.

“Then, I’ll just keep coming back to visit, I guess,” he replies. “Unless you’re still planning to leave?”

You pondered for a bit. You did need a change of view, a change of pace. You had spent a year in this apartment wallowing in self-pity. It wouldn't be so bad to move somewhere new, would it?

“If I go to Seoul,” you start off hesitantly, “What does that mean for us?”

He looks at you, confused. The atmosphere had turned somber without him noticing.

“What do you mean?”

You hesitate to ask, still confused as to where he stands. Dating an idol was hard, you knew that. Did he?

“Will I be your girlfriend again?”

He scoffs.

“I thought that was a given.”

You smile, but there was a hint of sadness in your eyes.

“I’m not good at being there for you, Guanheng,” you admit. “I have so many flaws and you have to put up with so many of them-”

“You put up with mine,” he says, inching closer to you. You shake your head.

“I’m not a good girlfriend.”

He shoots you a glare, pulling you into his arms and burying his face into your hair. Guanheng hated in when you talked about yourself like this.

“You don’t have to be,” he says. “I want you to be [Y/N], not just my girlfriend. You just have to be okay. I want you to be okay.”

You feel the prick of tears in your eye and nod into his chest. You need to trust him. You have to.

“I’ll try,” you say, drifting off into sleep. “This time I’ll try.”

And this time he won’t let go.

—

A/N: Super hard writing this because it’s been like uhhhh more than a year, but I’m glad I got to do it. Thank you @iron-lix​ for commissioning this and being so sweet and patient. I hope this was up to your expectation! Check out her blog for cute WayV fics!

I’ll be starting on my drabble game after I finish my last two commissions. Writers block is starting to get to me guys, so I’ll try to pace myself better in these next few days. Again thank you to everyone for being so kind in your messages and asks to me. I really feed off the positive vibes, you guys really know how to make me feel special T^T

give me a coffee?

[pebblysand]

[writing rant - on the monetisation of fanfiction]

a couple of months ago, when i updated my long fic, one of the people on the comments wrote to me the nicest possible review (one of the ones that you keep in your feel-good 'saved' emails - you know the ones), which, amongst other things also said: 'If I could pay you for this...believe me, I would.'

in the moment, i kind of smiled and laughed, and thanked the person for their kind words before moving on with my life. yet, since then, i have to admit that this sentence has kind of been living rent-free in my head. i think it is also because since diving back into fandom a few months ago, i've noticed something that kind of shocked me at first: more and more fanfiction writers seem to be monetising (or attempting to monetise) their craft.

now, back when i started writing fanfic, we wrote fanfic on ffnet and livejournal. it was accepted that thou shalt never (ever) charge money for your writing or else the author and their mean, angry lawyers will come after you for damages and you will die a slow and painful death. we wrote disclaimers at the start of all of our posts and thanked the gods every day when we did not get sued.

i have seen this change gradually over the years. first, in the mid 2010s, the disclaimers went. then, i noticed that people were getting 'tipped' for fanart, sometimes even charging commission. from what i understand (though, don't quote me on this, i'm not an ip lawyer and this post is not intended as legal advice), this is because the way the concept of fair use is framed under us law makes it easier to monetise fanart than it does fanfiction. maybe this is why visual artists came first on this trend. later still (and more recently) i've noticed fanfic writers, doing the same thing.

to be fully honest, the first thought i had when i saw this trend, considering the fear of god (and his lawyers) that was instilled in me in the past, was: how on earth is this even possible? (i'll come back to that in a bit). the second, though, was: fuck, i wish i had the guts to do that, lol.

because, yeah, i will admit, the idea of getting paid for writing what i love to write does appeal, to a certain extent. i won't lie. dear fanfiction writers who've tried to do that recently: i one hundred per cent get it.

looking back at the last fifteen years, i would say that for me, writing fanfiction has been (in terms of time commitment and energy consumed) the equivalent of having an on-and-off part time job. a job that i have held for one or two years at a time, then quit for a while, before coming back to it when i needed (wanted) it again. i obviously can't realistically give you a number re:the actual total of hours i have spent at this since i started out, but i can give you an idea. recently, i started clocking my hours out of interest and calculated that a chapter of my current long fic takes roughly between one hundred to two hundred hours to produce (and they're around 10,000 words). at that rate, i'm probably working 20 hours a week-ish? sometimes more, sometimes less? something as small as a three-sentence fic (like this for instance), takes roughly two/three hours. i'll be honest, i have cancelled plans to write fic. when i'm working on a long project, i do tend to organise my life to give myself the time to write, so i opt for socialising after work during the week rather than on weekends, as i've found this is when i write best. i won't lie: it is - for me (i know some people write quicker, bless them) - a huge time suck.

so, yeah, i understand, in the capitalist society we live in, wanting to make that time count. our world has unfortunately, repeatedly taught us that time is money and getting more does seem like a nice bonus (as long as you have an audience for your art that's willing to pay, obviously). after all, year after year, i've seen a lot of my friends try and monetise their passions as side hustles, with varying success. at first, glance, i look at the time i spend on writing fanfiction and think: man, i wish i could get a bit back from that too. i couldn't even draw a stick figure to save my life but i assume that the time commitment and energy put into that kind of work is roughly similar for visual fanartists as well. i thus very much understand the sentiment, both with fanart and fanfiction.

additionally, though i appreciate this is a bit tangential, the fact that fanfiction is free, i would argue, hinders its potential to be as representative as it could be. it's a bit sad because on the one hand, the fact that it is free makes it completely accessible to the masses but on the other, it makes fanfiction quite exclusive to rich, privileged people who can afford to spend the time and energy putting content out for free. if i spend this much time writing fanfiction, just because i like it and it makes me happy, it's because my full time job pays me enough to cover my bills. if it didn't, i probably would have to forgo writing and get a proper side gig. if you look at my periods of inactivity on ao3, those also kind of coincide with the times in my life when i had to have more things going on to put food on the table.

so, now, assuming that monetisation is a thing that, as a fic writer, one might want to look at, the next question is: how do you go about monetising it? obviously, the law hasn't changed since the days where we were all terrified of getting sued (although enforcement has been quite lax over the years) so it's more about finding workarounds around the law as it is, rather than actively seeking payment for fanart.

from what i've seen: two main solutions seem to exist.

first, there's the tipping/buy-me-coffee technique. as i understand it, this involves either setting up a page on one of the dedicated websites or just putting up your paypal account link on your tumblr posts. with these links, people can then send you however much money they want (however much money they can afford/think you deserve?) on a one-off basis. they're not actually paying for fanfic because there is no actual exchange of services, it's basically like them giving money to charity, except that charity is a fanfic writer/ fan artist whose work they enjoy.

there are two main issues i see with this: one, legally, i'm not sure how much ground this actually holds. assuming you're quite prolific/successful, if every time you're producing new content, you receive dozens of tips, although you're not actively charging for your fanart, making the argument that your content isn't what these people are actively paying for seems hard. imo, the fact that this method sort of holds is that realistically, you're going to make very little out of this. even if you're really good, you might make what? a couple hundred dollars. now, sure, that's a lot of money for a lot of people but in the grand scheme of things, no one sues anyone for such a low amount. as long as you're not making 'proper' money from it, it is highly unlikely that anyone would come after you.

this being said, the second issue, from my perspective, is that this is not in any way, shape or form, a reliable income. it also does not represent, at all, the cost of the time and investment actually put into said fanfiction (or fanart, i assume). for example: if you're going to tip someone who's worked on something for, say, fifty hours, ten dollars, that's very good of you, but that isn't going to be 'worth' their time. it is only worth their time if tipping is done at as scale, which imo is quite unlikely considering you're putting your content out for free anyway. there are kind souls who will tip you, but not that many, meaning that ultimately, you're not working for free anymore, but you're still working at a huge loss.

additionally, because this income is not even reliable on a monthly/weekly basis, it isn't something that anyone can actually rely on, even if only to fund their coffee habit. it's nice to have, don't get me wrong, but from my perspective, is the legal risk outlined above worth the trouble for the $20/30 tips i'd get every once in a while - not really. such low amounts also don't help diminish the class issue that i talked about earlier. again, if you're going to spend fifty hours on something, you might as well work a minimum wage job - even that will pay you more and will be dependable.

second, there's patreon (and patreon-like sites). here, the income is monthly, people pledge on a subscription basis, which does solve the last point above. it might not be much, but at least it's regular.

the main issue i see with patreon is that it is contingent on the author providing more services on top of what they already provide. in most cases, the author will keep putting their usual content out for free + provide their patreons (depending on tiers) with more content, specifically for them. this, to me, makes this scheme even less appealing than the previous one because a) if i can't provide fanfic to potential patreons (again, you can't sell fanfic), i'm not sure what on earth i could give them (original content? that's not really the same market) and b) that's even more work on my plate. honestly, considering the amount of time i already spend writing fanfic, i have neither the energy nor the willpower to provide extra content for an amount that, regardless, will probably pay me less than a part-time job would. again, you'd have to scale this (i.e. have enough patreons) to make it all worth your while, and even in very big fandoms, even for someone waaaaay more successful than me, i doubt it would be likely.

lastly, as a side note, both of these "methods" are solely accepted if they occur on tumblr/writer's own website, rather than on the writer's ao3 page/fic. there was a post going around explaining why that is (nutshell: it endangers ao3's status as a non-profit archive) but as with all things, i seem to have lost it. [if you do have the link to that post/know what i'm talking about, hit me up and i'll rectify this]. this, regardless, supposes driving traffic from wherever you post your fics towards tumblr/your own website which, again, decreases your chances of scaling this.

so, in the end, where does that leave us?

i think, at this point, we've kind of reached a crossroad. ultimately, i see two ways to look at this:

option one: if you believe that fanfiction writers should be paid for their art, you also probably agree that the methods outlined above, while they do offer some sort of solution, are less than ideal. the ideal solution (for this option) would obviously be to allow fanfiction authors to be properly paid for the publication of their work through 'normal' publishing/self-publishing deals, without the need for a licence from the author (bar - perhaps - the payment of royalties). that would create a proper 'market' for fanfiction, treating it as any other form of writing/art form. it would mean a complete overhaul of the laws currently in place, but why not? ultimately, in a democracy, laws are meant to be changeable.

this being said, though, while my personal knee jerk reaction would be to shout 'hurray!' at this solution, i do not actually think i want this. or, maybe, only part of me does. the part of me who has been writing fanfiction for free for fifteen years is like 'hey, yay, maybe i could get paid!'. but then, there is another part of me that would like, maybe, one day, to write more original fiction (i already do a bit, but not much). that part of me is feels frankly a bit icky about giving up her ip rights.

would i be comfortable with people writing fanfiction of my original work? hell yes. that would be the dream. imagine having your own ao3 fandom, omg. however, would i be comfortable with people profiting from writing fanfiction of my work? honestly, i'm not sure. to me, the answer to that is: it depends (how much time investment was put in? how original the concept is? etc.) which, in fact, kind of brings us back to the current concept of licensing. and yes, maybe the current frame imposed by copyright law has also shaped the way i view the concept of property, and maybe i should be more of a communist, free-for-all kind of person, but unfortunately, i'm not that revolutionary.

also, and slightly tangentially, i find it interesting how profiting from fanficition/fanart is seen as more acceptable i certain fandoms rather than in others. taking the hp fandom for instance, even prior to jkr expressing her views on transgender rights, i often read things like: 'ah, she's so rich anyway, she doesn't need the money.' now, that argument has not only gained traction but is also reinforced by: 'ah, she's the devil and i don't want to fund her. it'd rather give my money to fanfic authors/buy things on etsy.'

while i completely understand the sentiment and do not, in any way, shape or form, support jkr's views, i do find that argument quite problematic. if you set the precedent that because someone is too rich, or because they've expressed views you disagree with, you don't believe that they should be entitled to their own intellectual property rights, i do wonder: where does this stop? this being justified for jkr could lead to all sorts of small artists seeing other people stealing/profiting from their original work without authorisation. 'i don't pay you 'cause i disagree with you,' would then act as a justification, with i find highly unfair. the fact of the matter is: jkr created hp. knowing that, the choice of buying hp products, regardless of her opinions is completely and entirely yours, but buying the same stuff unlicensed, from people who are infringing on her copyrights seems, to me, very problematic as this could potentially be scaled to all artists. either we overhaul the entire copyright system or we don't, but making special cases is dangerous, in my humble opinion.

option two: we choose to preserve copyright law as it is, for the reasons outlined above. this means that most people will not get paid for the content they put out and that the few that do will operate on a very tight, legal rope, and work for tips that are a 'nice bonus' but not a proper pay. this sort of perpetuates the idea that fanfiction is 'less than' other art forms, because in our capitalist society, things that don't generate money (things often made by women, may i add) are not seen as being as valuable as things that do.

for me, personally, while getting paid to write fanfiction sounds lovely (and makes my bank account purr) in theory, i think i side to preserve the current system. as an artist, i think that intellectual property protects us and our concepts from being ripped off by others, including by big companies who might find it handy to steal a design, a quote, anything, without proper remuneration. this is even more important for smaller artists who wouldn't necessarily have the means to defend their craft otherwise.

this being said, i do appreciate that it depends on why you're writing fanfiction. i think that topic probably deserves a whole different post in its own right but ultimately, most people write fanfic because it's fun. we know it's for fun, and not for profit. and if that's the case, then we're okay to receive compliments, reblogs and sometimes, for some people a little bit of an awkward tip for our work. for me, fanfic has been a space to make friends, to get feedback, to learn and to experiment without the pressure of money being involved. that's why i don't particularly mind doing it for free, and wouldn't even bother setting up a patreon or tip-me jar. i love being able to do it just for the enjoyment of myself and my five followers (lol), without worrying about scaling it, or making it profitable. not every part of our lives, not every passion has to be profitable. as we say in ireland, you do it 'for the craic' and nothing else.

this, though, as i already said, also depends on your means and level of privilege. to me, writing for free is fantastic and a bloody relief - it means being able to do exactly what i want. original fiction writing is full of rules, and editors, and publishers. in fanfic, i can write whatever i feel like, and i'm willing to forgo a salary in exchange of that freedom. again, i have a full time job that covers my bills. this does mean, though, that i don't have as much time to dedicate to writing as i would like to.

and also, the thing is: i'm a small author. i happily write in my own little niche. bar that one comment, it is highly unlikely that anyone would actually want to pay me (or even tip me) for my content. but when you look at very successful people, like the author of all the young dudes, i could see how they'd want to get paid for their art, and why they'd feel differently.

bottom line for me is: the flaws of the current systems of remuneration combined with my strong belief in copyright law as a means to protect small, original creators, means that i don't really think it would be right for me to get paid for fanfic, even if i was the kind of person who had the market for it. whilst it would be nice, this very long rant has, hopefully, explained why.

[robogreaser]

This is a Long Time Coming...

It’s been a relatively hard task to sit down and make sense of, well, a lot of things as of late. I could chalk it up to the state of the world, but it’s been troublesome for significantly longer than that.

Long Story Short Version: I’ve been in a hell of a place, mentally, physically, and otherwise.

The proper story is a hell of a lot more involved than that and I know damned right well it’s going to take me a fair bit to explain myself and my various professional and social failings over the past... while. I’m gonna try to contain this under a read more, of course, but I apologize to mobile users if tumblr fucks that up.

Okay. That took a fair more bit of effort to figure out than I remember. Which, I suppose, is a fair enough bit of a segue into one thing that’s happened to me.

Tumblr has been deteriorating.

Whether I like to admit it or not, tumblr has been my go to social media platform since... 2011. Yeah. I’ve spent the vast majority of the decade here. I’ve seen a lot. Sure, I’ve lurked elsewhere, but I really cannot stand the interface and nature of a lot of other social media, especially the likes of twitter. Unfortunately for me, this place has been in constant decline for years now at this point. It extends well beyond the porn ban, but that’s a whole separate discussion.

I’ve lost touch with a lot of people I care about, some vanishing into the ether, some ghosting me, some just drifting into other communities or onto other sites. I’ve come to terms with the majority of this. It’s been happening for a while. It’s the very nature of digital relationships. It hurt, and I do think it’s contributed to a fair bit of stress and depression that has resulted in my... withdrawal from online spaces. It’s not a major factor, but its here, it’s present, it’s a factor in all of this.

I’ll be honest in that, well, I’ve tried to make this post several times over the past several weeks and months. It’s hard. Talking about my issues, using ‘I’ and ‘me’ so much in a post... it’s a bit jarring. But I’ll try to suck it up.

It’s been ten years (god I fucking hate time) since I’ve graduated high school. Yeah. It’s a fair thing to say that, on reflection, that’s incredibly jarring. The vast majority of that time has been... relatively unstable. I spent a fair few years working on my book and my publishing journey, now all but scrubbed clean from this blog (more on that later) and... well... Trying to be an adult. I’ve applied to, gotten accepted, and had to withdrawn from my dream school twice in this time. I’ve had a fair few jobs, nothing worthy of my resume, and lost all of them in one form or another, whether being fired for retaliating to my shitty work conditions, or, well, quitting for the sake of my own health during this pandemic. There has been a lot of family troubles. I’ve been through a lot of... ‘varied’ living situations, some horrendous, some just stressful, some, like now, actually really good compared to the others. And for the past few years in particular, it’s been constantly one thing after another, nonstop.

In short, progress is slow, but it’s happening. I don’t care to delve into a lot of these sorts of personal details lest this get to a ridiculous length, but that’s the short of the stuff I’d rather gloss over.

I’ve been on a health... Let’s call it a journey. I’ve been on a health journey. Over the past few years I’ve gone through the long processes of being diagnosed with ADHD, discussing my options regarding my depression and anxiety, and finally getting myself on a medication regimen that works. And then, because the health care system is a joke, I was without insurance. I had been off my medication, an absolute lifesaver and release of burden on my garbage tier brain, for eighteen months. Until last week. I think it’s fair to say, between my revolving door of living situations, employment, and then being un-medicated in a continually more stressful environment... That this is the main reason I’ve been absent. I’ve had no focus. There were weeks where I had no drive to do anything outside of routine that others depended on. I had not only gone back to how I was before situating my mental health, but in some ways, found a worse state.

Finances have been slowly eating away at me. I had been working a part time retail job until November, which made decent enough money, but not nearly for the amount of work and responsibility I was handling. I got fired. I found work with one of the big, corporate postal services. The pay was phenomenal, but it began to actively destroy my health, mainly physically, but also mentally, especially considering I was working a graveyard shift. Eventually when I began having prolonged health issues there, and then a whole lot of the symptoms of covid-19, on top of them turning me down for an entry-level position outside of the package handling, I had to quit. This was shortly after the lockdowns, in early April, and I refuse to look back despite people like my parents insisting on me trying to get work there again. Sure, the pay was phenomenal compared to anything else I had until then, but I cant continue to sacrifice my health. As of now, I’m unemployed, and... well...

I’m working on my commission queue. It’s art. It’s stuff I’ve owed friends (luckily those who are incredibly understanding and good to me) for an embarrassing amount of time, even before moving to and from Oklahoma at the end of 2016. I’m terrified of being the person who is known for taking commissioners’ money and running.

I know, I’m not good at giving updates. I’m not good at a consistent work schedule. I’ve had numerous tech failings over the past few years that constantly slow my roll on any progress I have made. Hell, I’ve had files corrupt despite being two thirds of the way complete when transferring from one computer to another. I’ve lost my cable for my external hard drive. I’ve had my tablet go to hell and back multiple times. But I am working. I am trying. I am sitting down as often as I can between looking for work and managing family nonsense to try and get my workload tidied up.

Which... brings me to my next point. And one I’m rather... ashamed about.

I have used trello, infrequently, since taking on a large load of commissions, and despite not being faithfully updating it and checking back on it, and using it to it’s fullest potential, I had kept, at the minimum, a list of all the work I did owe people using it. Well. Dumbass me attempted to use a mobile app. In short, in an effort to try and make myself tech literate and allow me easier access to my queue, I ended up deleting it. Somehow.

I’ve gone through and slowly flagged all my paypal notices and various emails concerning my commissions. I’m putting it together again. I’m trying. Granted, I am damned sure I am going to be missing someone, somewhere, somehow. I know it. I’ve got a shit brain, and despite my need for organization and minimalism, I don’t put it past me to have missed something along the way.

If you have commissioned me, please, do not hesitate to reach out and contact me regarding your commission. I owe every last one of you a massive apology for my continued failure to produce what you have paid for.

More likely than not, I have a wip already started somewhere, and if not, I have a slew of reference and thumbnails already compiled together somewhere on my computers. I am not ignoring this work. It’s been painfully, embarrassingly slow. It’s been one obstacle after another. But I have every intention of doing this work, and, likely, upgrading the quality of the finished piece past what my commissioners have paid for simply because I do feel bad about the wait time.

I have been inexcusably unprofessional. I know this and I am working as best I can with the time and resources I have to correct it.

In a similar vein, as I mentioned before, I have slowly been cleaning up my rather unimpressive publishing attempts. I’ve gone through and cleaned this blog recently, deleting reference to my work by name and the process of trying to get myself published. I may have missed a few posts here and there, but for the most part I would like a clean slate in regards to building a social media platform surrounding my written work. And this is the part where... I am probably going to be the most upfront and honest with you reading this than I have been publicly before.

I am not ashamed of who I’ve been online these past ten years or so, but it reflects only a sliver of my personality, a sliver of who I am as a whole. I catered to a very specific subset of who I am in pursuit of finding acceptance in communities much larger than myself. I’ve learned a hell of a lot about myself in that time. I figured out what’s important to me, my health, my sexuality, my relationships and my long term goals. I’ve found a very important group of friends. I’ve found people who understand and empathize with a lot of the things I have been through, experience, and am at my core.

But the fact of the matter is, this hypersexual, sci-fi aesthetic-oriented, very open person is only a singular facet. And it is not nearly enough of a reflection of who I am, or who I want to be as a professional, public adult. Will I always be gay for robots? Yes. Will I, when time permits and creative energies are present, continue to make nsfw art? Absolutely. Will I always have a toe dipped in erotic literature and the like? Most likely.

But a lot of me, a lot of my emotion and strife and feelings regarding most things in the world, are completely separate from this. It’s separate from me liking porn on twitter or having a homestuck roleplay blog. It’s separate from who I am in real life, with my boyfriend or with my family or with my work. And I have been dwelling on this, sincerely, for a while. I need to allocate more energy into my life. The separate life offline and online too, where I am pursuing an actual professional career, because, at the end of the day, I want to be an author. I want to have a career telling stories. And, in my time online, I’ve found a lot of skeletons in authors’ closets, the kind that really put mine to shame, and the kind that will always be a footnote to their work. You know the ones.

I want my creative work to speak for itself. I want people to be able to enjoy what I do without a specter, without my time and energy having to explain to a future audience why it is I had explicit thoughts about x,y, and z. I want to be able to write a book, write many books, and have people enjoy them without a footnote about me, a person with a sexual life and a history exploring it through years of depression and isolation, clouding it. It’s not fair to my work. It’s not fair to a future reader. It’s not fair to me.

I’ve got several social media accounts made and slowly coming to life that I need to spend more time with as I try and pursue this new, second leg of a very long journey into publishing. I’m not going to link those here, now or in the future. It’s likely a few people I know and trust have access to them. But I am, effectively starting over from scratch trying to build a platform as a writer. And it’s hard. Juggling that, alongside all of the things in the world today, alongside family and my relationships, alongside my commission queue? It bears down on me and if I didn’t have experience handling more than one thing at a time, I might trip up more frequently. Hell, I forget to post and use those new accounts regularly.

But I’m trying.

I’m not moving away from my current social circles or hobbies or anything like that. I’m not abandoning any fandom or friends or communities. But I am going to be trying to balance myself more thoughtfully moving forward, past just commissions, past just writing.

I’m here. I’m moving forward, slowly but surely, and I am making an effort to improve.

[wandering-dogs]

Hi! I hope this is ok to ask, but why'd you pick a BC to be your service dog? Definitely not judging, because I've been really strongly considering it myself, but everyone tells me that BCs are generally too sensitive for public access!

Oh boy, I just managed to delete everything I wrote on this. =w=;Well. This is REALLY fucking long, so… Under the cut we go.TLDR; there were a lot of personal circumstances to think about between my disabilities, money, and timing, and it was moreso that a BC fit neatly into those than I necessarily wanted a BC from the beginning.

So! First off, I should mention, you’re absolutely correct. When I got Wander, this was a thing I was warned about. I specifically asked for a dog who rebounded off of scares quickly, and I got just that. He definitely recovers fast, but he is, absolutely, a sensitive dog. Moreso than I would have wanted.

But, there were a few things I had to think about that led me to getting a BC, even with the warning that they were sensitive.

1. I’ve seen a lot of successful border collie service dogs. Like, a surprising amount. This was one of the reasons I even started looking into them! That, combined with a few questions placed at a few different people, really made them seem like an option. Not necessarily, the ideal, but…

2. I don’t like the main service dog breeds. Or, rather, I hate living with them. I’ve owned labs and golden retrievers, and I really, truly, did not want to have to live with another. I think they’re great dogs! I think all my friends should have one! But I know myself, and I know that it would not be fair to me or my dog to get one of those two breeds. Even if they have a higher chance of success, what would that have mattered if I was constantly getting annoyed at things that are perfectly normal for those breeds? Poodles, which were another option, I just didn’t know enough about. There’s a lot of grooming that goes into them for one, which I have no experience in (though I’d love to learn) and I know nothing about their temperaments other than they are retriever-y dogs. Which is why I ended up vetoing them to be on the safe side.

3. An organization was likely out of the question. I don’t know enough about organizations and how they should run to tell a good one from a mediocre one, to start. Then there’s also that they normally choose breeds that I just simply don’t get along with. But the real kicker is that I really couldn’t locate one that would work with me. I’m autistic and have PTSD along with some other mental issues. Finding an organization that works with autistic adults? Near impossible. I, to this date, have not been able to locate one that looks decent. And PTSD ones are mostly geared towards veterans, which I am not. The other issue is time frame; I did not have a ton of waiting time.

4. So, I was majorly depressed at the time. Like, sleeping for days on end, not getting out of bed, angry, depressed. This was partially due to processing multiple layers of trauma! The main issue however was that I hit an autistic breakdown. Think of it as a mental break. I couldn’t read for several years after this happened, for example. I still, to this day, have some days where I cannot read more than a sentence at a time without losing the ability altogether. Typing up a paragraph? This whole thing that you’re currently reading? That was a pipe dream for me at the time. And for someone who spent their whole like from age 4 (yes, four) to 19 reading chapter book upon chapter book a day to cope? That was a devastating loss. I have still not been able to read as many books, but I’m improving! (for reference, I’m currently 23)

4.5. Animals are my life. At the time, we had lost our old rescue lab, and just gotten Simon, who had settled in beautifully. I’d intended to see if he would work out as a service dog, but was told no immediately (family dog, not YOUR dog), and wasn’t allowed to work with him. This meant his anxiety worsened because I couldn’t continue his socializing, and by the time they realised I really needed a service dog, it was too late for Simon to have a chance. (He’s also protective, so it wouldn’t have worked out anyways most likely) But, I was depressed, in bed, and had no purpose. Caring for a puppy would force me out of bed. I knew this, my mum knew this, and so it just kind of… It didn’t have a rush or timeline. I was willing to wait. But it definitely was something I couldn’t just sit around and wait years for either.

5. Originally, I’d planned on getting a Berger Blanc Suisse. And in all honesty, I still plan on getting one! I still think they would be better suited to my needs, and I certainly prefer the look and size of them! But, I couldn’t find a good BBS breeder near me, and shipping/flying out was likely not an option either. Now that I know more of where to look, I have my eye on a few, but… That’s neither here nor there.

6. I was worried that the dog would wash out. I couldn’t be sure that I would be able to afford regular training, as I am paid based off of commissions, and knew my parents wouldn’t make it a priority (i was correct). This meant that there was a pretty decent chance that the dog would wash out, because I was the only one who’d be training him. I didn’t really have any local dog training friends, all I had was some practice on Simon and a plethora of videos and research. Which meant that the dog washing out had to be taken into account from the start. I’m not a person who would be able to rehome a dog I raised as my own, though I understand why and how others do. But I definitely needed some sort of backup plan. Border collies are good at sports, make decent pets in case the dog washed out into an ESA, and yet also were okay service dog prospects! Not ideal, but it was one of the closest I could find to an ideal dog. A little bit of sensitivity seemed like a decent trade off for a dog who I knew I could do a ton of things with, even if my plans well through.

7. I’d been looking into BC’s already, more as a backup plan if I couldn’t locate a BBS breeder that would/could work with me, when I got a recommendation towards a BC breeder. I went in, looked at her page, looked at her dogs, joined her pup group and poked around, and finally sent her a message, asking if she was going to have any future breedings that would supply a dog with the temperament I needed. She messaged back saying she had a puppy there already who fit, and we worked out a discount contract. I’d already had some money saved up between commissions and some donations, and my parents offered to cover the rest of the cost. After that, its history.

I’m sure I forgot something, but that’s… a lot of info anyways.

I want to be very clear though, now that I’m at the end.

I don’t regret getting Wander. I am not on good terms with his breeder anymore, after a lot of drama, but I do know a lot of people who own her dogs, and like them very well. I love Wander a lot, and he really was the perfect dog for me at the time. I don’t know if I’d change any of my choices if I had the chance; I can’t claim to know that.He’s not perfect. I’m not perfect. I call him a service dog in training still because I feel that he very much is. I can’t say for sure that I’d wash him out. He has flaws, and I am afraid that they’re worse than I think. But when given the opportunity to act out or be afraid? He doesn’t. He constantly surpasses my expectations.He does have a few issues caused by my dad when he was a puppy; Barking at strangers, for example, or people leaning over him, which makes him a bit nervous.He also is not a perfect dog because I’m not a perfect trainer. With the right experience, I think Wander would have already been a fully fledged service dog. But I don’t have that experience; I couldn’t give him that.

If you wanted reasons to go for a border collie as a service dog, there are plenty.They make great dogs if they wash out. They pay attention to you. They’re ready to go whenever you want or need to. They aren’t grooming heavy. They’re not as talkative as some other breeds (Wander for example is near silent). They’re gorgeous, multipurpose dogs.But there are just as many, if not more reasons to go with a golden, or a lab, or a poodle.So my advice, unsolicited as it might be, is to make sure that your reasons, however many there are, are weighed correctly. I had fewer reasons to go with a border collie, but they were more important reasons to me. They weighed more than the reasons I could have chosen another breed.

Next time, I doubt I’ll get a border collie. But for me, with the timing and other concerns I had? A border collie, especially Wander, was the perfect choice.

I’d also definitely rather have a trainer next time, but I’d also have rather had one this time too.

[krystalkoya]

Ad Hoc | 01

So I finally did it. My first published fic, hopefully it’s not as cringe as I think it is. If y’all like this let me know. I have a couple ideas for this fic that I won’t completely give up on if at least one person likes this

read on ao3! 

pairing: coworker!hoseok x reader

genre: enemies to lovers (the superior trope!), future angst, future smut (18+), humour

rating: nc17

word count: 3.1k

chapter warnings: none!

———

Summary: Landing your dream job as an advertising exec at Kim Entertainment straight out of college was nothing like you imagined. Mostly due to the fact that your college rival, Jung Hoseok, sits ten feet away from you and never misses an opportunity to make your life a living hell. When a position opens up at the firm to be chief of advertising, you jump at the opportunity, but not without having to go up against Hoseok who is also vying for the position. In a dirty game of deception and betrayal, the last thing you expect to come out of it is love.

Series Masterpost

———

Dear god if you had to sit through another minute of this goddamn staff meeting you were going to kill yourself. That is, if the meeting didn’t bore you to death first.

Ever since the company had come under new management a few months ago, the new manager, Minho, had instituted routine monthly meetings to go over the company’s goals, its relationship with clients, projected sales for the year… you know, all that business mumbo jumbo.

And that was all fine and dandy. In fact, you actually thought the meetings were beneficial… if they were being held once every few months or so, not every damn month of the year. But, like a good employee, you faithfully attended each monthly meeting just to hear that nothing had changed since the last one.

If you were being honest, you had no idea how Minho got so far in his career. He was a nice guy, too nice really, a little awkward, but absolutely no balls below the belt whatsoever. The man couldn’t even tell Barbara, the resident granny (who, frankly, was due to retire ten years ago) that she was taking too long on her breaks. And not the socially acceptable one or two minutes late but more like fifteen minute breaks becoming thirties instead.

Looking past the fact that the man seemed the type to be terrified of his own reflection, you guess you could see why corporate hired him — when it came to marketing, he knew his stuff.

Just as you were beginning to ponder what you would be having for lunch that day, a reuben from the sub shop down the street sounded nice, but then again you had been craving Mexican lately…, you suddenly felt a [not-so-light] kick to your shin.

Jerking in your seat, you looked up to see the smirking man beside you. You were about to retaliate with a scolding and an even harsher kick to the shin but before you even had a chance he was he shushing you with a finger to his plump lips, pointing in the direction of Minho to indicate that you should pay attention.

“… to conclude our meeting today, I have some good news pertaining to the advertising department.“ You perked up a little in your seat, thoroughly intrigued for the first time ever first time that day.

“Corporate wants to change things up a bit in the ad department. That’s why they told me to let you all know that a new position is opening up here to be Chief Advertising Officer. CAO if you will.”

At the silence that ensued in response to his attempt at a ‘joke’, Minho took that as his cue to explain it (which only ever makes things worse).

“Get it… CAO, like CEO and CFO. They’re… they’re acronyms.”

“We get it, it just wasn’t funny.” Calls, you guessed it, Barbara from her seat in the back. The only one bold enough to say what everyone else was thinking because she’s set for life. Minho won’t fire her, a) because of the lack of balls situation mentioned earlier, and b) out of fear of securing a lawsuit for age discrimination on their hands.

At this point, it was just better to let the old bat retire on her own terms — she only had about a year left, two tops.

Minho, poor guy, shakes his head defeatedly, ignoring Barb’s comment in favor of finishing his announcement. Chuckling awkwardly, he begins again, “Right… Ah- as I was saying, a new position is opening up to be Chief of Advertising. Corporate wants things to be a little more streamlined in the ad department. They’re thinking a head of advertising position will achieve that. Anyone can apply so if you think you have the necessary skills, by all means have at it. But unless anyone has any further comments or concerns, this meeting’s adjourned.”

Usually you’re already up and on your feet before Minho can say ‘any further questions’ but today you’re left stewing in your seat. As a member of the advertising team here at Kim Entertainment you couldn’t be happier in your current position. But now that this opportunity had been presented to you, you couldn’t turn it away. More creative freedom and a higher salary? There was no way in hell you weren’t getting this promotion.

But with opportunities always come challenges. And you don’t know how you managed to forget one of the biggest challenges standing in your way ever since you started working here a year ago.

“I actually have a question, if you don’t mind.”

God, even the sound of his voice irritates the mother-loving shit out of you.

“Yes, Hoseok, go ahead.” Minho says, slowing in his collection of the papers on his desk.

Jung. Fucking. Hoseok.

“So what differentiates the Chief of Advertising from a regular person on the ad committee? And salary? What’s that like?”

“Of course, yes the perks of the position! You can expect a higher salary. It’s not set and generally depends on your experience and skill set, but it will be higher nonetheless. But some of the other benefits more freedom to work on your own commissions or projects, and you have final say in what ideas get pushed and what doesn’t.”

Everyone and everything that stood in your way could suck your left tit as far as you were concerned — you were getting this job. And fortunately, you would get to bury Jung’s ass in the process, a win-win situation for you.

“And, the interview process. How does that work? Is it just the standard interview and a ‘Congratulations, you got the job’ or a 'Sorry, better luck next time?’ or are they looking for something more?” He asks, arms folded and leaning back in his chair, his head tilted slightly in inquiry.

Despite not wanting to admit it, the man did ask good questions. You had been wondering this yourself.

“Oh! How could I forget! Yes there’s going to be a standard interview but in addition to that they also want to see an example of your own work. A personal project, if you will.”

A personal project? So in other words, they want to see what you can do when you are given full creative control over a project. This works out great because this has been exactly what you wanted to do for a while now. You couldn’t wait until the members of your team let you take the reigns on a project. Sure it was nice having a team to bounce ideas off of but sometimes, the feeling of being shot down for an idea you felt strongly for was disheartening.

“Come see me in my office so I can give you the full rundown of what corporate expects to see from you for this position.” He says looking at Hoseok before adding, “And that goes for anyone else who plans on applying. But for now, meeting adjourned. Let’s keep up the good work guys. I like what I’m seeing, great improvement from last month.”

Literally nothing had changed from last month, but that is the last thing on your mind right now, as it is too preoccupied with figuring out what you are going to do for your personal project. And also, how you are going to make it better than Hoseok’s as he is clearly also interested in the position.

As everyone begins to file out of the conference room, some chatting excitedly with each other, others uninterested in a job offer that has nothing to do with them, you follow suit. As you make the trek back to your desk, a pep in your step while you run over all the possible ideas you have for your personal project, Park Jimin falls into step with you.

He bumps his shoulder against yours as you walk, alerting you of his presence, rather violently, you might add.

“Big opportunity right? I have no doubt you’re applying for it. Or am I wrong?”

You give him a look. “You bet your cute ass I’m applying. I’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity. I just have to figure out a way to outdo that asshole Hoseok and I’m set.”

Jimin flashes you a grin saying, “Aww, you think my ass is cute?” He briefly glances back at his derriere, giving himself a pleased smile before he turns back to you. “I’ve been doing this new thing where I incorporate squats into my workouts. They’re killer on leg day but I guess they’re finally paying off. Anyways, what have you got against that guy? Seriously, he’s not a bad dude from what I can tell.”

“Yeah, to you maybe!” you exclaim.

By this time you have reached the break room and Jimin reaches for the coffee pot to pour himself a mug while you watch him, thoroughly annoyed with the direction the conversation has taken. He offers you a cup but you shake your head, leaning against the counter with a sigh.

“Him and I… we have history. Goes back to my college days and I’d rather not relive those thank you very much.”

Jimin turns around to face you, leaning his back against the counter as well as he takes a sip of his coffee. You giggle when he grimaces, presumably because he forgot to add in the appropriate amount of sugar and creamer to the bitter cup of black coffee.

His next statement, however, wipes the grin right off your face.

“Ooh, a romantic tragedy. Tell me more. What, did he dump you for another girl and now you’ve got some sort of vendetta against him? Spicy. Tell me more.”

“What? No! Absolutely not. First of all, I’ve never dated nor will I ever date that asshole. And second of all, why couldn’t I have been the one dumping him?”

Jimin shrugs, muttering into his mug as he takes a sip, “I guess it could’ve gone that way too. But it’s easier to imagine him dumping you because… and don’t take this the wrong way… you’re you.”

Okay ouch. You’re offended to say the least. “And what is that supposed to mean?!?” You explode. You were doing that a lot today. Jimin must be in the mood for mischief.

“I tell her not to take it the wrong way and what does she do, she takes it the wrong way,” he mutters into his coffee mug, almost as if he’s talking more to himself than to you.

“Listen, no offense, but you didn’t seem like the type to be popular throughout college, or high school, or… at all really. You’ve got this quirky, kinda awkward, vibe going on with you. Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute but you don’t strike me as the type to be the ‘life of the party’.” Despite the fact that you’re glaring daggers into the side of his head right now, he elaborates. Unfortunately for you (and fortunately for Jimin), looks can’t kill.

“…Hoseok on the other hand radiates 'I was popular my entire life’ type of energy. I was thinking maybe you two hooked up or even dated for a bit but he dumped you to avoid jeopardizing his social status. Again, no offense to you or anything. If anything I’m offending him, because he was the asshole in this hypothetical situation.“

"You’ve put lots of thought into this haven’t you?” You say incredulously, truly astounded by how elaborate his story is.

Jimin takes a sip of his coffee (now appropriately sweetened) and sighs dramatically. “Sadly, yes. I’m afraid it’s kept me up into the wee hours of the morning for several nights now. So please, do me a favor and tell me what happened. I’m right aren’t I?”

Try as you might to deny it Jimin was right. At least partially. The part about about you and Hoseok dating or hooking up or whatever definitely wasn’t true, but is is true that the two of you ran in different social circles. You were more likely to be caught with your head in a textbook than at a party, where Hoseok seemed to have spent at least 40% of his time in college.

With a sigh you relent, dropping your guarded stance and admitting your defeat.

"Ok, fine, you might be onto something.” Jimin’s eyes widen excitedly and you’re quick to elaborate before he can get anymore ideas.

“Hoseok and I were never together in any way, thank god, but it is true that we were at completely separate ends of the social spectrum.”

Jimin smirks proudly but you pointedly ignore him.

“And… there was a brief moment in time where we were actually friends, or acquaintances, I guess? But that didn’t last long.”

“Friends? The two of you?”

“Very briefly. We stopped being friends when I found out he was a gigantic asshole. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s get back to talking about that promotion. I was thinking– ”

“Promotion? You mean the one I’m going to get?”

At the sound of a voice that didn’t come from one of the two of you, you and Jimin snap your head around to see Hoseok standing near the doorway of the breakroom.

Unfortunately for you the universe had not answered your calls for a stress free day void of having to interact with the devil in a suit standing a couple feet away from you. Better luck tomorrow.

“Ew, have you just been standing there like a creep listening to our conversation this entire time?” you scowl out at him.

Hoseok shakes his head, hands in his pants pockets and a sly smirk on his face as approaches. He walks past the both of you, not paying you any mind, as he stops at the coffee machine and pours himself a cup.

“No. Trust me, I have better things to do than eavesdrop on your conversations. I just happened to come in and I heard the two of you talking about the new job offer opening up.” He’s not even looking at you, the pretentious prick, too focused on stirring in the appropriate amount of creamer into his cup.

“Want some advice?”

“I don’t ” you bite back.

He ignores you. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you to get your feelings hurt when I get the job so I wouldn’t even bother applying if I were you.”

He’s still stirring that stupid cup of coffee and the fact that he’s not even looking at you while he insults you, like you’re not even worth the time of day, is extremely infuriating.

At this point you are seething, but you try your very best to not to go off on him as much as you want to. Working with him on a daily was already difficult but now that you two are vying for the same position? Oh, things are only about to get a hell of a lot worse.

“Thanks for your concern, but if you’re so sure that you’ve got this job already then you won’t mind if I go ahead and apply then. Since you don’t consider me to be any competition then it should be fine, right? Or did I read this all wrong and you’re actually worried I might get the job over you?”

Finally finished meddling with his coffee, he licks the red stirrer clean with his tongue and discards it with a flick into the trash can nearby. Mug in hand he spins around and leans against the counter, flashing a smug grin your way. And you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t affect you at least a smidgen. His smile was stunning, smugness to it and all. So what, he’s attractive. You still hated the man’s guts.

“I tried to warn you so I don’t wanna see any tears when I get it. But I suggest you get used to calling me 'Chief’ from now on. Has a nice ring to it doesn’t it?”

And before you can respond he’s already brushing past you and heading back to his desk, no doubt thoroughly enjoying the fact that he got the last word in while you’re left to gape like a fish out of water.

There’s a moment of silence while Jimin just stares at you seething at Hoseok’s retreating form disappearing into the main room. You almost forgot he was there at all until he finally speaks.

“God, the sexual tension between you two is strong. Can’t you guys just fuck already and end… whatever this is…?”

“Jimin!” you exclaim at him. “What you just witnessed was not sexual tension. It was just passionate mutual hate for each other.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“You know what, fuck you.”

Jimin’s airy laugh floods your hearing and you wonder not for the first time how someone so mischievous could look so innocent.

“Listen, I just need your support with this, can I trust you to give me that?”

“Right, about that. I was thinking of applying for the position too.”

You give him an incredulous look. He can’t be serious.

“Jimin, you’re in accounting.”

“So? You heard the boss man. He said anyone could apply!”

“Yes, anyone with the right credentials. Do you have a degree in marketing or advertising or any other remotely related field? No you don’t. Come on Jimin, I don’t have time for this right now. I’ve already got enough on my plate dealing with Hoseok, I don’t need to add you to the mix.”

“Relax, I’m just kidding. My department can’t lose me. I’m the best accountant they have. And trust me, you have my full support. I have no doubt you’ll get the job.”

You give Jimin a bright smile and thank him dearly. Despite being a pain in your ass at times, he really was a great coworker and friend at that. He’s one of the few people always reassuring you when you’re nervous about a pitch or an idea you have in mind.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. You hated to admit it but Hoseok was good at his job. If there was anyone who could beat you out of this promotion it was him, not to mention you have no idea who else was considering applying for the position as well. But you were determined. You had to get this job. And you’d bury Hoseok and whoever else decided to go up against you to get it. But first things first… you needed a project idea.

[markipwiwer]

Say, what happens after Wil finds out the truth on what Dark is? does Anti ever get to know their back story? I really love your writing but I suck at waiting to find out stuff??

This is the oldest ask I had in my inbox because I needed to give this thought. It already feels unstructured as hell but that being said, nothing is structured after that kind of trauma.

This is a DIRECT sequel to “We Never Left”, and it probably won’t make sense if you haven’t read that, so go to my AO3 or check my recent Masterpost to get the full story I guess???

-

Dark, Wilford and Anti sat in the padded cell, together, and just talked.

Wilford talked about what he remembered. Most of the things Damien hadn’t been around for, in terms of the party or the aftermath or personal time spent between William and Mark, the Entity had filled him in. So it wasn’t news. But hearing Wilfords perspective on everything was… difficult.

Sometimes, Dark would just sit and listen to Wilford talk and talk and talk about little details. Anti asked a lot of questions, some more prodding than others, but Wilford seemed just as interested in trying to remember to answer as Anti was in getting the full picture.

Anti did have a natural sense of feeling left out, of course. It was difficult. He’d come into the relationship at, what seemed to be, a very crucial time. Every time he thought about he might be intruding, he felt sick. So he shoved it down and it stayed that way for a while.

Eventually, they came to the agreement that Wilford was safe to be out of the cell and on a lower course of medication, just to even things out a little. No one wanted his personality to change, but that was an awful lot of trauma to unearth at once. Schneeplestein, having already worked with Wilford in some more invasive ways before, knew the extreme end of things, and he worked in conjunction with Dr Iplier on regulating things.

-

As Dark recovered from his injuries from the incident, the three were a tad more distant. Usually one wouldn’t be able to tear them away from each other. But there was a solemn note to everything now, even though it was all out in the open.

Anti often asked questions out of the blue. They varied in importance, or at least… traumatic value.

“So… Damien was totally fucking the butler in his spare time, right?”

Anti lay against Wilfords thigh on the couch, only because Wilford didn’t seem like he wanted to embrace anyone right now.

“Absolutely. All things considered, for his time, Damien was a pervert. Homosexual, sleeping with his servants. Not that Ben minded at all, he was having a wonderful time. Kept things quiet, Damien didn’t exactly need to pay him extra to not speak to the press but Damien, being the generous man that he was… any staff he happened to encounter usually got their tips. Marks or otherwise.”

Anti nodded, seemingly rather happy with the response. Then the subject changed.

“So why did you play roulette with that fucking psycho?”

Wilford blinked, and then he shrugged.

“I was drunk. I was in the house I grew up in, it’s not exactly like I was expecting to be framed for murder. I knew he’d turned into an egotistical bastard over the years and… I guess I felt guilty about Celine but there were so many sides to it. I barely agreed to it before he was pulling the trigger on me, and then it was kind of a dick move if I didn’t do the same.”

Wilford sounded resigned.

“I don’t know why Dark doesn’t hate me.”

“Why would he hate ye?”

“Mark wasn’t supposed to take Damien’s body. He was supposed to take mine. Dark would have had a working body at the very least if it wasn’t for me being so… stupid.”

That resonated with Anti in a way he wasn’t expecting. One thing Anti and Wilford definitely shared in terms of their dynamics in their respective families was the tendency to be the shitty wild card. Anti was reckless, impulsive, and sometimes stupid. Wilford was the same. A lot of the time, they could block it out. Not so much in the moment, when their consequences stared them directly in the face.

-

Wilford was being a lot more tender with Dark than he ever had been before. Dark was taking longer to recover from his injuries and had to stay in bed a lot of the time, since his leg injury didn’t leave much room for even being able to sit in his desk.

Despite protests from everyone around d him, he decided he still wanted paperwork done. So Wilford volunteered to transcribe various reports for him. And although Wilford was a little slower, he kept up for the sake of things. Once a report was done and Dark could already feel a headache coming on, Wilford would stand up from the desk and walk over to the bed, gently crawling up to Dark before strangling him and kissing him softly.

It happened over and over again, a reward every time, and sometimes it was so soft and gentle it made Dark want to cry. He didn’t want to be this vulnerable, he didn’t want to be injured, but at the same time, Wilford was still here an Wilford didn’t hate him and he was so grateful.

One day, Anti walked past the door as Dark and Wilford exchanged one of these intimate moments. He had been planning on getting snacks then coming in to give Dark a massage or something of the sort. Everyone felt a little responsible for Dark being out of commission. But Anti felt… closed out. He wasn’t part of this. This whole thing with Dark and Wilford, it wasn’t his business, it wasn’t his history, and he hadn’t even felt this insecure at the beginning of the relationship.

So he sulked past the door again with snacks for one, and he went to the lounge to think, assuming he wouldn’t be missed.

Wilford, who was back at the desk by that point, found Anti just walking past the room without so much as a glance in to be very strange. So as soon as he was able to break away from the paperwork, he went to Anti.

-

“I’m sorry.”

They both said it in unison. And then they looked at each other, confused as to why the other had said it.

Anti spoke first.

“This is none of my business. I’ve got no right to be here, pretendin’ like I’m some part of this. You and Dark have yer own thing and I’m just… trespassin’, or whatever. Besides, I hurt ye before… in the scuffle, ye know.”

Anti scratches at his own small grazes from the fight there had been just to get the gun out of Wilfords hand that had been aimed at a passed out Dark.

Wilford looked confused, then distraught.

“Anti. Jesus, no. You’ve got it all wrong. If it weren’t for you, Dark would probably be dead, okay? You’re the reason he’s still here, the reason I didn’t hurt myself, you’re the one keeping us balanced. Please, I know… I know Dark and I have history and memories together but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make new ones with you. In fact, I’d much rather be here, with you and him, living now than living back then.”

At this point, Wilfords hands were gripping Antis shoulders. It wasn’t said out loud, but Wilford was pleading with Anti to stay and they knew it.

A tear glitched onto Antis face and disappeared as soon as it came.

“Are ye sure I’m not gettin’ in the way?”

“No. I’m so sorry if we have you that impression. I owe everything to you. We owe everything to you. You’re the only one who has the balls to stand up to us and call us out on our crazy, upside-down bullshit and put a stop to it and we’d probably both be dead if you hadn’t… noticed me being crazy.”

Anti looked down at his own hands as Wilford reached for them. And they just sat like that, on the floor, next to a barely burning fire in the living room.

Anti supposed being a wild card had paid off.

-

About half an hour later, Dark was treated to cookies and massages and a very heartfelt double blowjob, since no one had been able to do much of anything since Dark could scarcely move.

Once Dark had caught his breath from the onslaught of love and affection, he actually laughed.

“Where did all that come from?”

Anti rather gently kissed the bullet wound on his shoulder and Wilford snuggled into the other side of him.

“We’re just glad ye’re here.”

Wilford stayed silent, trying to healthily deal with the horrid feeling that was “he could have not been here and it would have been my fault.”

But Dark was merciful, and put his arms around the both of them as best he could, bones popping as per usual.

“I’m rather glad I’m here too.”

[kingofthenorth49]

Enemy of the State

I woke up on November 4th allegedly an enemy of the people.

Now I didn’t do anything differently than I did on the 3rd, but that morning when I awoke I knew things were going to get weird based on what I was seeing in the media.

Now keep in mind I haven’t any trust in the mainstream media. Zero. None. Zilch. They have eroded that trust over the last decade or so for me, to the point I realize they are no longer news outlets, but rather 24 hour a day propaganda machines.

By now, many of you reading likely thought “Conspiracy theorist” or his tin foil hat is on too tight again. Didn’t you.

You don’t have to answer, I know that’s exactly what 50% of you are thinking as you read this. That’s how you have been programmed to think over the past 20 years, you are part of a cult you didn’t realize you had joined. Think about it. As North American’s (and I have to use that term because sitting here in Canada today my reference group is so enthralled with US politics they aren’t even watching what is going on in their own country) we are equally divided in our thinking.

And that is exactly what they want. A society divided is easier to conquer, and right now we are ripe for the picking. The last bastion against Marxism is fighting a death match I never believed I’d get to see during my short stint on this planet.

While the Coronavirus is real, the plandemic is not. It’s manufactured. I’m not talking about the virus, that’s beyond the edges of my aluminum chapeaux, I’m talking about the world’s approach to managing it. It’s all part of a plan to convert the world over to a One World Government.

Fear is the greatest motivator know to the human species and beyond. A field mouse being stalked by a hawk is acutely aware of everything going on around him as he literally runs for his life. Every action and reaction is measured against the knowledge that one wrong move and he becomes the object of desire of a stronger power. It’s the fight or flight response that has kept species alive for millions of years.

We’ve just had our fight response beaten out of us by those who wish to possess us, or rather possess the output of our labor.

Power is the drug of the greedy. Just look around you to see it. You only need look at the likes of Nancy Pelosi to see it. It’s for thee, but not for me. I say that a lot because I see it a lot. I see our elected officials set two levels of standards as they rule. One set of standards is for us, the working class, and the other set of standards are for them, the ruling class. Nancy’s trip to the beauty salon is one example that comes to mind. Let’s break it down for the people in the back.

For those who don’t know Nancy, she’s the 80+ year old speaker of the house, and one of the most powerful democrats in the United States. Nancy’s been in Washington a long time, she knows where the bodies are literally buried. She’s powerful, wealthy, and doesn’t give a rats-ass about you. She’s all about Nancy. So in the middle of this plandemic, Nancy needs to get her hair done for her next ice cream photo op and even though beauty salon’s are ordered closed under public health order, Nancy’s staff arrange for a salon to open to touch up the speakers locks.

Now as someone who cut their own hair for almost 3 months, I can understand the desire to have the professionals take care of things, but at the same time as a leader I understand the need to lead with integrity and not set a double standard. Nancy, not so much. Somehow a video gets released showing Nancy waltzing thought the salon between the shampoo and color, not only in direct contravention of the law shutting down these services, but sans face mask.

Now a little lapse in safety decorum amongst co-conspirators could be overlooked had it not been that Nancy had just days before been on the news berating the President for not wearing a mask and selfishly endangering the lives of others’. It was carried by every network for days.

Get it yet? It’s for thee, not for me. A double standard isn’t a double standard if your in power. They feel they are above the rest of us. But it gets worse.

When the mainstream media is forced to pick up the story a day later, the response from the Pelosi people is that Nancy was set up by the salon owner.

Are you fucking kidding me? This is how the 3rd most powerful leader in the United States responded to being caught in the act violating the very laws she enacted? The worst part of all of this was most of you all accepted it because it fit the narrative you’ve been programmed to accept. Be honest with yourself. You simply accepted that Nancy was the victim in this situation because Trump.

This is but one example of this type of entitlement. The Governor if Michigan’s husband got caught going boating during a lockdown. Prime Minster Trudeau got caught breaching ethics rules twice, and is under investigation for two more. No other sitting Prime Minister in the history of Canada has ever been chastised for lacking ethics except for the current returning resident of 22 Sussex Drive. They destroyed all the evidence of the WE scandal and it never really even made the news.

I’ll make you a bet right now, that if I refuse to pay my taxes this year, I’ll not collect $200 and I’ll go directly to jail. If you’ve ever stood before a judge accused of a crime, it’s the most sober humbling moment of your life. Our problem is getting them in front of one.

Am I making sense yet?

Hillary had a private email server. She deleted 30,000+ emails as Secretary of State. Her and her husband Bill made hundreds of millions of dollars as public officials. Bill raped a woman in Arkansas and paid her off with $400,000.00. But there’s no one holding them to account.

Barrack Obama and Eric Holder ran fast and furious. They put guns into the hands of drug cartels that eventually wound up back in the USA used to kill innocent Americans. Over a billion dollars in cash on pallets was flown to Iran in the middle of the night. But there were no scandals in his White House. Are you fucking kidding me? He used the intelligence community to spy on Trump’s campaign for Gawd’s sake, Richard Nixon had to resign as President for doing the same thing, does no one remember Watergate?

Jesus people, when will you wake the fuck up and realize you are being manipulated by those in positions of power. What is it going to take for people to stop accepting this type of behavior from those they entrust with the public purse and our freedoms.

I read The Rise of the 3rd Reich last year. It was a very sobering read to see how the Nazi party rose to power and committed atrocities against their fellow humans in the name of a better planet. I’ve seen images of the holocaust that sadden me to the very core of my being. I have always wondered how humans could treat each other like that, to strip people of their dignity, their world possessions, their families, and finally their very existence. And for what. For one persons hatred of another race. One person was able through persuasion to convince an entire population of a country to hate a group of people because they were different. They worked hard. They ran shops and factories. They worshipped together, they built strong communities. They gave back to their country and made is better. But because those in power despised them, they created hate against them and let the people turn on their fellow countrymen.

You all know the rest of the story.

Or at least I hope you do, because if you don’t, its going to happen again because it’s already happening the exact same way it did in the 1920’s in Germany. If you don’t believe me, read the book. Read the history of one example of how mankind is one of the ugliest species on the planet. Read about how they divided the country and made people hate the Jews. Hitler blamed the loss of the war, the economic downfall of Germany and the bad decisions of the Weimar Republic on Jewish capitalism. Does this sound familiar? It should.

Churchill said “Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it”. Now while he didn’t invent that quote, he certainly had reason to use it. As the one person who stood up against Hitler (Thank Gawd he did) he understood completely the threat to humanity that existed in the ideology of the Nazi party.

Fuck we are stupid. That all happened in our generational life time. Our grandparents fought in that war. Our communities lost thousands of good men and women to the effort to combat the rise of Marxism and hate and protect the world against the likes of Hilter, Stalin, and Lenin.

Yet here we are.

I woke up on November 4th to hear people like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez calling for a “Truth and Accountability commission” to ensure Trump and his supporters are held to account. The talking heads were spitting vitrol and hate against 72 Million Americans who voted for Trump. On example, Washington Post columnist Jennifer Rubin tweeted that morning, “Any R now promoting rejection of an election or calling to not to follow the will of voters or making baseless allegations of fraud should never serve in office, join a corporate board, find a faculty position or be accepted into ‘polite’ society. We have a list.”

We have a list? Seriously?

Hitler had a list too.

While Trump should have had a filter between him and his twitter feed, the man did nothing to rise to the level of a dictator who had women stripped naked and shot in front of their children, before they were shot next. Are you kidding me? Are people really that stupid?

I lived in the USA during Trump’s four years. I also lived there during Obama’s eight. By any measurable metric Trump’s four years brought more prosperity to the average American than Obama’s double term, and even if you take the economy out of the equation, Trump still made life better through his approach to governance. He got three noble prize nominations for crying out loud

But no one sees that.

But this isn’t about Trump, it’s about us.

We are failing as citizens to hold our leaders to account, and when you fail to check power, well, you get what you deserve. Our leaders, both elected and self-appointed (Think Zuckerberg, Gates) are running amok and have contempt for we the people. I believe in the next 6 months those in power are going to use the pandemic as a tool to move their agenda forward and attempt to go full Marxism around the globe under the guise of a One World Government. We are already seeing our own governments in Canada moving towards that end, the death of Freedom of Speech is just one indicator. Don’t believe me? Prime Minister Trudeau recently told the country “Freedom of expression is not without limits. We do not have the right, for example, to shout ‘fire’ in a movie theatre crowded with people.”

Well dumbass, actually we do, or at least we did. The cornerstone of any free person is the right to say what ever he/she/(Insert your preferred pronoun here) wants. If you cannot say whatever you want, you are oppressed. It’s just that fucking simple. He was wrong, but he wasn’t apologetic about being wrong. He thinks he is right, and his ideology supports that, which is the ideology of the left. You can say whatever you want as long as it agrees with our ideology, otherwise we will cancel you. We will public shame you. Call you racist, a bigot, etc until you shut up.

This is where we are today, a society afraid to speak up in fear they will be cancelled, ridiculed, or shamed. This is right where they want us, in fear, alone, and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wear your mask, stay home, be a good citizen. Make sure you keep an eye on your neighbor to ensure they are being good citizen’s too. After all, we are all in this together, at least until we aren’t.

Maybe I’m wrong, and I hope I am. Maybe AOC really meant those lists were to send out holiday cards thanking all those 72,000,000 American’s for doing their civic duty by voting for the person they best perceive to leader their collective ideals, to further democracy and make their country the best it can be.

It’s just too bad they picked the wrong horse.

Or did they. Will we ever know for sure? I doubt it.

In the end, a polite society who are open to freedom of speech, even if it flies in the face of our beliefs is critical to a progressive society. If we suppress thought, fail to encourage debate, and dismiss the ideas of differing opinions we will fail as a society, and when a democratic society fails, tyranny rises.

When tyranny rises, the cost to humanity is great. We cannot afford this journey again.

Anyway, I need to go spend some time with my dog. I’m pretty sure he’s a liberal, but I love him just the same. I feel the same way about my liberal friends, they just don’t drool on me as much.

Enjoy the day, but think about what you are willing to accept from our governments. If we remain quiet we have no one to blame but ourselves. Sometimes yelling fire means things are actually burning.

[is-osana-here-yet]

Comparing Lunar Scythe and Yandere Simulator 1/? : Character Design

This is Luna, her backstory as written by Dev is:

The main character is a girl in her late teens named Luna. Luna is obsessed with an idea; the idea that this world is full of people who don't deserve to live. Murderers, thieves, kidnappers, human traffickers, drug dealers, arms dealers, arsonists, scam artists, identity thieves - Luna desperately wishes she could do something to rid the planet of such people, but she feels like there is nothing she could do that would ever make a difference. At the beginning of the game, Luna dies. As Luna's spirit looks down at her own body, she feels nothing but apathy. She didn't want to live in a world filled with human filth, anyway. That's when Death shows up. Death looks into her soul to determine which afterlife she belongs in, and he is surprised at what he finds within her. He learns that she is free of sin, yet her strongest desire is to take millions of lives. While examining this pale girl clad entirely in black who yearns to kill, Death feels as though he's looking at his own reflection for a moment. Death decides that Luna may be able to serve him a purpose. Instead of sending her soul to the afterlife, Death makes Luna an offer. "I'll bring you back to life, if you agree to bring me human souls." Luna is shocked by his offer. "But I don't want to kill innocent people!" "Then do not kill the innocent," Death replies. "Kill the guilty." "But who are the guilty?" She asks. "That's for you to decide," Death replies. Death is offering her the authority and the power to kill anyone she thinks deserves to die - and she thinks that a LOT of people deserve to die. She doesn't want to come back to life and return to a miserable world filled with criminals, sadists, and psychopaths...but if she had the power to purify this sinful world, she could create a world that she actually wants to live in. And so, Luna accepts the offer, not to become Death, but to become Justice. Death resurrects Luna, gives her a giant scythe, and grants her superhuman powers that become active at midnight. By day, Luna is an ordinary girl who works part-time jobs to scrape by...and by night, she is the judge, jury, and executioner of her city, an agent of death. If Luna does not bring him enough souls, Death will take her life. Luna asks Death how many souls he wants, and what her deadline is. Because Death does not perceive time the same way that mortals do - in terms of seconds, minutes, or hours - he cannot give her a specific date. As he looks upward in contemplation, he notices that the moon is full. And so, he decides that Luna must use the scythe to deliver a specific number of souls to him by the end of the lunar cycle. Hence the name of the game, "Lunar Scythe." (What do you think? Corny?) The game takes place over the course of a year. After each full moon, Death demands more souls by the next full moon. So, Luna has to kill more and more people to meet her quota each month. What Luna doesn't know is that she's not the only dead girl that Death has brought back to life! He has also resurrected other recently deceased girls who each have the capacity to take millions of lives. Every time there is a full moon, Luna will fight another resurrected dead chick wielding a giant energy weapon. The game takes place in 2015, and there are 13 full moons in 2015, meaning Luna will have to face 13 of these enemies in total.

What is Death plotting? Why does he want mortals to gather souls for him? What will happen once Luna has defeated all of the other dead girls?

You'll have to play the game to find out. ^.~

Alex has given her a fairly simple backstory that could easily be expanded on. In the forum he presented this in, he gets some good feedback on her character wise. The people pose questions such as “what is her goal?” and “well this bit doesn’t make sense because .....” 

We already know Dev made Ayano a blank slate, because when he presented Lunar Scythe, he was met with what he saw as “harsh criticism.” However in the forum no one is really that harsh. Most tend to clue in that Alex doesn’t take critique well, and pose their thoughts in ways such as “well think about why she does this, who made her like this...” One of the major problems fans have with Yandere Simulator, is the lack of personality/story for Ayano. One could say Ayano is meant to be a self insert for the player, but the problem is she is legit nothing. A self insert in other games typically has a base story, and the interpretations of a character are formed based on the choices that the player makes. In otome games, Persona 5, Fallout, you can choose dialogue options. It’s up to the player to pick the snarky comment, the kind comment ect... The only way a player could form an interpretation of Ayano is through elimination methods. Do they stab a person? Blackmail? Pair them up with someone else? Either way the only focus on these options is Ayano’s perspective on removing someone from Taro’s life. The player can’t decide why Ayano loves Taro. What kind of person Ayano is. 

I tried my best to make sure that Luna wasn't a Mary Sue. There are a lot of details about Luna that I left out... Luna's younger sister, Stella, was a child genius and a celebrity. Chess grandmaster, master of four instruments, wrote and published a best-selling novel, graduated college, performed surgery - all before the age of 12. Luna was never able to measure up to her little sister in any way, which left her with a horrible inferiority complex. As soon as Stella started pulling in tons of money and making the family famous, her parents practically forgot that Luna existed. Luna tried everything to get her parents' attention - causing trouble at school, wearing bizarre fashion, dying her hair crazy colors - but this only pushed her parents further away. She moved out at age 18, and she hasn't spoken to them since. She doesn't bother reading any news related to her younger sister, preferring to pretend that she doesn't even exist. The goth fashion and dyed hair became a part of her identity after so many years, so she still keeps a little bit of dye in her hair and wears gothic accessories from time to time. Luna started struggling immediately after moving out. She barely graduated high school, she can't make friends easily, she can't hold down a job, and can't afford to pay her rent. She's depressed, miserable, and desperate when she finally dies. Even after her resurrection, she still lacks the qualifications or experience for any full-time job, and has to keep doing lousy part-time jobs to scrape by. She literally has nothing going for her, other than the fact that she gets superpowers for a brief period of time at midnight...then it's back to being a failure at life.

Again, this is very underdeveloped. Why can’t she hold down a job? Doesn’t she learn? Is being depressed just part of her character? Alex refused to give Ayano a backstory, because he decided that if people didn’t like what he wrote for Luna, they wouldn’t like what he wrote for Ayano. Ayano has been given a few backstory prompts, sort of. The biggest being “Ayano can’t feel anything”, however people criticise Ayano’s character because it contradicts the very basis of her, she’s a yandere. It feels like Alex has just recycled the murderous intent from Luna, removed her backstory and stuck it into Ayano. There is no “deredere” to contrast the “yan” side of her, making her boring and dull.

People began saying Luna looks too generic, looks like Ryuko from Kill La Kill, Ruby Rose from RWBY, and Cassie Hack from Hack/Slash. People also though she looked too “edgy”, typical busty goth anime girl. When met with this criticism, Alex went around commissioning different artist to come up with a different design for his character. He asked the forum what they liked best. The designs presented were:

And this, is Ayano’s concept art.

Ayano’s first design shares some similarities to Luna. The red/black palette. Short hair. It seems as though Alex abandoned the original “having a distinct silhouette” and opted for having a plain design. Ayano is not easily recognisable, as she looks like any other Japanese middle school student. In the forum, he is constantly asking for harsh criticism. He says he want to improve the character. He often asks what other people would suggest instead. 

As he’s met continuously with criticism about the practicality of this all, he states:

I'm totally aware of how ridiculously impractical it would be to use a scythe as a weapon...in real life. But this is a video game, where the Rule of Cool is the only rule I need. I'm willing to throw realism and practicality out the window for the sake of having the coolest weapon possible, and to me, that's got to be an energy scythe. An umbrella isn't a practical weapon to use in a fight, either, but that doesn't stop Parasoul. You can argue that Parasoul is using a special fantasy umbrella that shoots projectiles - and, likewise, my character is using a special sci-fi scythe with an energy blade rather than a solid blade, which opens up combat options that a grass-cutting tool does not.

I agree that the costume is impractical, but that doesn't matter to me very much. Once again, I'm willing to completely suspend my disbelief as long as something looks cool enough...or sexy enough. I'd rather have an impractical and cool-looking character than a completely realistic, practical, boring character. With that said, it may be entirely possible for her to be wearing a much more cool-looking outfit than her current corset / skirt combo...but whatever outfit I eventually decide on will definitely not be restrained by practicality. So, what would you suggest for the outfit?

It seems like this is what fuelled Alex to make Ayano so boring. Ayano seems like she’s just a huge “fuck you” to the people that criticised Luna. Ayano is very practical. Very realistic. To the point of boredom. People continually state Luna’s character is boring and too simple, his response:

The reason I wanted to give the protagonist a simple hairstyle is because I haven't been able to get cloth physics or long hair physics working in my game engine. But, of course, that's a personal failing, and shouldn't restrict the character's appearance. So, what would you suggest for the hairstyle?

Having short hair fits with the first design of Ayano. Perhaps his engine still was that bad that he couldn’t get physics working. Personally, I feel like Alex continuing to ask people for suggestions when met with any criticism becomes very passive aggressive. Every single comment is met with that. It comes off as “well if you think it sucks, tell me how I should do it then.” You cannot saying the hair is generic without giving an alternate suggestion according to Alex.

He also gets upset over someone stating there was no reason for having a young white female protagonist. Keep in mind Ayano too, is a young white female protagonist.

What's wrong with having a young, white, female protagonist? If this is a "social justice warrior" thing, I'm definitely not going to argue about that subject in this thread. The costume is my primary concern here.

Alex quickly abandons is old “please critique my work!” rhetoric and writes this rant defending his choices.

About the cleavage, midriff, and legs...well, there is a story-related reason why she desires to dress up in a sexy outfit when she fights, but even if there wasn't a plot-related reason, I'm going to fall back on the Rule of Sexy. I absolutely love sexy-looking femme fatale characters. ...aren't we on...the Skullgirls forum...?...

This goes back to Alex is making a game for himself. A character for himself. He is sexualizing this girl and is lying about having a story related reason for the sexy outfit. He does the same thing with the characters of Yandere Simulator. 

I really hate over-designed characters with too many belts and zippers and random useless accessories hanging off of every limb...but I really don't think my character suffers from that problem. She's got a pretty simple outfit. There are some details, sure, but I don't feel the design approaches the DeviantArt level of ridiculous over-design. Everything about the character's design, however implausible it might seem at first glance, does have a justification. The reason she dyes her hair, the reason Death thought a scythe would suit her best, the reason she wears a sexy outfit - it's all worked into her backstory. Is that what you're talking about? I didn't really purposefully make the game's storyline dark for the sake of being dark - I just made it a story that appeals to me, and dark things happen to appeal to me, so the story came out really, really dark. I guess you could say that my over-abundant enthusiasm for impractical weapons, sexy outfits, and super dark-and-edgy plot elements is totally steering the design and direction of this game. (However, because the game takes place predominantly in LITERALLY dark environments, it may be a good idea to give her a brighter color scheme...) Maybe it's because all of these aspects of her design appeal 100% to my personal tastes, but I just can't imagine that choosing to go with this character design could actually result in "practically no revenue". Is that what you're really suggesting? Or are you just saying that every time I make a decision about a character's appearance, I should treat that decision, no matter how minor, as being a choice that could ruin the game financially? Because that doesn't seem realistic to me, either... Anyway, why even criticize the original design? I'm ready and willing to replace it with one of the new re-designs that I posted. So, please tell me what it is you like / dislike about the NEW designs.

The thread goes into gameplay a little more, and then Alex says this:

I'm starting to think I made this thread a little too soon. I mean, I'm TOTALLY aware that I could never, ever ship a game that plays exactly like that prototype you played. Obviously, the final game won't just be killing sets of 5 dudes over and over. Obviously, the final game won't have that lame death animation. Obviously, the final game won't have a special move that is just spinning in a circle. But since people are getting the wrong idea, I guess it was a mistake to post that prototype and call it a "demo". Maybe I should have called it a "proof of concept". Or maybe I should have called it a "programming test". Or maybe I shouldn't have posted anything at all just yet...

It’s quite similar to the pity party he threw himself when his game was critiqued by Mike Z. Alex posts more designs for his character at this point

We go back to Luna’s goal and backstory, and Alex just keeps stating that she hates bad people and wants to rid the world of them. He states a few times “you have to play the game to find out” A similar tactic used with core plot points in Yandere Simulator.

What I’ve gathered from looking at Luna and Ayano together, Ayano is Luna. Same sadistic side. Lack of empathy. Similar beta designs and motifs. Ayano just had Luna’s backstory removed because Alex didn’t want to face criticism again. 

[the-space-case]

Hello, yes, hi, I recently found your art and account and I love what you do. I'm turning 14 in April and I've asked for a drawing pad, but I have no idea how to use one as of yet. Have you got any tips or anything? Because I've wanted to try digital art for a while and your art makes me want to even more lmao. Thanks! - B.A.

BOI OH BOI DO I GOT SOME TIPS FOR U

(I’m not sure what kind of comp you’re going to be using, so I’ll list for both.)

FIRST: Drawing Programs; the free and the great.

-Firealpaca: Lightweight drawing program. I draw Recovery using this! It’s easy on the RAM if you have a weak comp/are paranoid about yours like I am, it is mainly for basic comic making, and has all the basic brushes you need (pen/pencil/airbrush/symmetry/etc). You can add your own brushes as well but they’re p basic settings. Has basic Animation/Gif making as well using Onion Mode! Layout is a piece of cake. Please note that If you leave it open for a week it’ll crash on you, even if you haven’t anything on it at the moment, and sometimes the brush sensitivity just stops working so you just have to close and then open it again. (Also I have no idea how to update it aside from deleting it completely and just downloading the new version from scratch, so thats a thing.) Mac/Windows

-MedibangPaint: This is basically FireAlpaca But Better. Has tons of screen tones, brush patterns, and tools. I don’t use it much because I’m used to FA’s layout and get confused with the the placement of tools in here, so if you can I highly suggest just going with this first. Also has basic animation/gif making! Has storage for the website as well, and you can upload more preset brushes. It’s v anime. This program has waaay more in terms of basically everything, so it just takes more RAM. NBD, you don’t have to have every brush downloaded from the storage ^u^. Mac/Windows

-Clip Studio Paint: Okay this one isn’t free, it’s a pricey one, HOWEVER once a year they take the price way fuckin down by at least 75%. Sign up for the email list and it’ll let you know when that precious day comes. It’s how I got it @u@, around christmastime? This program is basically MedibangPaint On Steroids. I do all of my digital-yet-tradition-style-painting on here! The brushes all have some neat af settings to play with, you can make your own brushes, has tons of screen tones, pre-made panels, and settings. You can save projects as basically anything you need, is a hardy program that almost never crashes, and It’ll take a nice chunk of space on your comp depending on how much memory you have but hey, its worth it. It’s much more complex layout-wise than the other two here, but you get used to it after playing around and watching tutorials haha.

-Mischief: It’s a 25$ app, has like four brushes and five layers only but is vector-based with an endless canvas. Not really worth having unless you like the vector thing. UP TO YOU. I spent forever with this one doing all that homestuck stuff, so it’s not really bad so much as it is a basic bitch. Mac

-MyPaint: I used this a bunch when I still did digital art on my windows laptop before I upgraded to a Mac. It’s easy on the comp and has plenty of brushes and settings. You can also get brush packages if you don’t feel like you have enough that comes with the program! Also has endless canvas; pretty sure you can just select an area and then export as is. I barely remember the rest but It’s pretty great. Windows/MacPorts(which I hate)

-GIMP: I hate this thing. I cannot figure it out for the life of me. It’s got loads of shit though, can handle layers, has plenty of brushes, and can do basic animation/gifs if you ever figure it out. Windows/mac

I’ve heard good things from paint tool SAI and Krita as well, but have never used them myself.

***You can always pay through the nose/use a student discount for the photoshop series and pay that shit monthly, those fuckers have literally everything, but I am a cheap college kid making minimum wage with a car payment; I’d rather just pay once/not at all.

TABLETS: treat that shit like a newborn babe 24/7

-I have literally only ever owned a Wacom Intuos4. It has lasted me six years, and at least five moves across many miles. I broke one of the cord ports the day I opened it by holding it wrong, have one left, and now treat it like it’s going to die if the cord moves badly. Please be aware that if you break both ports, you better either sodder it back together yourself or upgrade to smth else because it costs about as much as the tablet itself was bought at to be fixed. Good news, though, it comes with at least six extra pen nibs, has programable buttons on the side (that I have never bothered to use) and a scroll bar in case you’re too lazy to use the keyboard (…I don’t really use that either unless I’m just scrolling through tumblr LMFAO).

-I would die for a Cintiq.

HOT TIPS: its useful.

-most of the programs listed use the same keyboard shortcuts. MEMORIZE THEM. It’s pretty easy, since you’ll use em a lot. [cntrl/cmmd+T] lets you resize what you just drew on that layer, and [cntrl/cmmd+z] is undo. I use those the most, for obvious reasons.

-vector-based programs are pretty great because when you resize an image it looks prefect. You can’t do that with a program that isn’t, so I just resize the base roughdraft and draw the lineart again on the layer above so I don’t get weird JPEG quality lines.

-You can use a ruler with your tablet, just slap it on and go, but honestly most programs have settings for that. just use those.

-You can also trace stuff on your tablet, so long as the paper isn’t too thick. I just scan/take a photo and then open it up in the program, though. much easier.

-SAVE CONSTANTLY. Art programs like to crash on you, even when they’re hardy and you have a good comp. make it a habit to quick save your work.

-Use a desk and have good posture. You’ll be able to draw a hell of a lot longer if you do. I personally keep fucking up my knees by sitting on my legs as I work out of habit, and don’t actually have a desk chair. Keep your screen at eye level and at a fair distance to prevent eyestrain and also neck-strain haha

-Chances are you won’t be used to the tablet right away. Most places you buy from say it’ll take a couple of months to get used to how weird it is to draw while not looking at your own hand, so don’t be frustrated If your drawings look a bit off at first.

-if you draw at least one thing every day, by the end of the year you’ll have improved exponentially. I literally made this blog to make myself draw once a day.

-don’t be afraid to check out speedpaints and tutorials. It’s always good to get more familiar with the program you’re using and new techniques previously unconsidered.

-get familiar with clipping layers. They are insanely useful; you clip one layer to the one below and then when you draw it only shows up on the drawing of that layer below. Shit is a godsend if you’re bad at coloring in the lines/lazy. The bucket tool is also really useful, and you can adjust the expansion by pixel so you don’t miss anything between the lines.

-experiment with your brushes, shit be fun af

-warmup your wrists before and after drawing. prevent swollen veins and such. dont want hand pain/numbness, its reaaaaally bad.

—basically if your hands hurt stop for the day.

-PNGS are for internet, JPEGS are for printing/fucking with quality (cough hack homestuck)

-resolution doesn’t have to be much more than 350 dpi if its just going to be on a webpage. Maximize that shit if you’re going to be printing, though. Especially if you put stuff on redbubble.

-DeviantArt has this thing called Sta.sh where you can dump art, keep it in perfect quality and just share it with certain people with a link instead of all of the website. Great for storing commission pieces, its the only reason I have DA in the first place.

-you get a different audience depending on what site you use for posting art, so keep that in mind for the kind of feedback you want.

-after awhile of drawing using a tablet, you may lose patience/forget that in traditional art there isn’t an undo button lmfao It’s cool; you don’t have to choose one over the other or anything.

-Honestly you can work around almost anything. You just invent new ways and techniques for yourself and you’ll do just fine.

Aaaaand that’s all I got for today! Thanks for sticking around

[imonlymildlyinsane]

"You're bein' stubborn, I told you to fuckin' leave me here. Ain't no sense in both of us windin' up dead." Came the strained voice by your ear, though the conviction in it was not lost; defeated and resolute in your safety only.

It was annoying, really. There was a bullet lodged in your lower leg from enemy fire, some shrapnel had managed to knick you in the side from a couple of explosions and you were certain that there was a hunger headache looming your skull; thank the Sun for adrenaline blocking serious pain. All of that, and you were trying to save his sorry ass, but he couldn't even have the good grace to save his self-depreciation for later.

Honestly, Jesse needed to work on his manners; southerners know it's rude to refuse a service, especially one important as this.

While the both of you were clear of the danger zone, the frigid winter of Switzerland was nothing to take lightly. While they still had daylight on their side, the loss of blood on both their parts—coupled with being in the wilderness—left them very vulnerable to a plethora of situations. The last signal of location you received from Hana had been thirty minutes ago, which still gave the both of you a good chance of making it out with almost everything still in tact.

Jesse, of course, had been more focused on you getting out alive, rather than surviving.

Unfortunately, coming across Widowmaker in the crosshairs of an attack was probably one of the worst things that could have happened. They were on her playing field—being so unaffected by cold—but that was also why you had been brought on this mission. Picking off Talon operatives between the two of you was fairly easy, but dodging the perfect assassin was a whole other ballgame.

What started as a diversion shot to a gas tank to clear a way for the both of you had ended badly. The explosion had been a lot bigger than McCree predicted, with the cowboy being knocked clean out about fifty feet away from flying debris. It was a calculated shot, sure, but even those can go off the rails, and he sure as hell was going to chew himself out about it at a later date. You had immediately began dragging him away from the main scene, but when Widowmaker had shown up, you had to make a hasty decision of your own. The flames wouldn't last long in the cold atmosphere, but it still wouldn't make her falter from landing a clean shot.

Fight or Flight; a cliché classic.

You really hated to run, but with being broke off from the rest of your team, a partner unconscious and Talon forces closing in with a head assassin leading them, you had no choice. Picking the man up on one shoulder, you grit your teeth against the pain and immediately burst into a sprint; the omnium core settled in your chest pushing an overflow of adrenaline through your body. While your injuries wouldn't heal any faster, it would carry your body as far as your emotional response would carry it.

This meant you had to keep to a constant state of distress for your core to keep pushing past your limits. Mental and Physical exhaustion, and you were perpetually tired as it was.

The heavy scent of mingling blood was beginning to effect your senses, but underneath the metallic scent, you could smell an encroaching danger; tickling at the back of your neck. You risked a look over your shoulder and was met with scratching heat of a bullet scratching across your cheek, clean through one of your braids. Like clockwork, your body was flooding with adrenaline once more, and you were running with energy renewed.

The communicator at your side, thankfully, buzzed to life with the broken tone of your best friend. "W— ov— the ne—t hill!! —eep goi—!!"

Elation could not come close to how you felt, but death still loomed over your shoulder as you began up the high hill; legs shaking with the added weight and strain from injuries. However, the core in your thoracic cavity was humming with resolution as your pushed on, hands clutched tightly around Jesse's limp body, having passed out from the blood loss once more. It didn't matter, as you could still feel the slowed thump of his heart against your back, even through your body suit, and it only gave you more hope that this would not be the end. It wouldn't be—push, keep moving, do not stop. Stopping meant death. You would die on your own fucking terms, even if it meant flipping a big middle finger in the Reaper's face, and you sure as hell weren't about to lose this idiot of a man either.

The footfalls of oncoming enemies was growing closer, but you never had a chance to turn and defend yourself. Before you could reach over the hill, the sound of machine fire filled the air, D.Va's mech heavily battered, but still functioning. You grinned woflishly and ducked past her to get to the transport, Lucio at her side holding them off until you boarded safely.

Through the air, you heard Tracer's voice instructing them to get in, the strain in her own voice seeming secondary to her typical melodic tone. Once inside, the hatch closing as the rest of the team boarded, your legs immediately gave out and sent you onto the ground; pain vibrating through your bones. The world seemed a blur as the wight of Jesse was removed—probably by one of the healer's to tend to him—while your best friend carefully lifted you up. The buzz of your omnic core began to reside and decrease the chemical flowing through you, leaving every wound, tear of muscle and fracture throbbing anew with pain.

It was well worth it.

—————

It was decided that the debriefing be done without your presence, as the state of your injuries were far more worse than initially thought. The doctor had been in and out while assessing you, and you could have sworn that you felt the calming energy of Zenyatta more than once, but sleep was all you could manage during this time. Whether it had been hours or days was unbeknownst to you, but there was this lingering pain in your left leg that you couldn't place. You would try to flex it when slight wakefulness came, but would soon slip back under.

Whatever it was could be addressed later.

In the midst of being unconscious, you were fairly sure that you were in a coma; medicated, if the strange taste of chemicals lingered in your mouth. Certain voices you could zone in on, while some were deemed unimportant. Your physical state was something you would rather confront when you were fully awake, but it was fun to eavesdrop here and there. However, when the steps of heavy boots came, follows by a shutting of the door, you were sure you knew who it was.

A sigh filled the air, followed by a soft curse.

"Darlin', I...I told you to leave my ass there. This wouldn't have happened if you would've just listened to me...Can't complain though. That stubborn attitude is one reason I love you so much."

There was flutter in your stomach; panic and joy mingling together.

Steps came forward before stopping short of your bed, a big, warm hand gently cupping your cheek. "You took a risk savin' my hide, goodness knows I'm grateful, but you...shit, you deserve better than this. Better than me, definitely...I'm cheatin' you right now by sayin' all this while you're outta commission. Should hear this face to face...It's not so bad, though the damn prosthetics do come with one con. It's like you can still feel the pain, even if the damn thing ain't there anymore."

You tried to flex your left leg. There was tension at your knee cap, but anything below was oddly missing. So, that's what it was. Huh.

"If you can hear me...I'm so sorry for this. Guess it'll just be another sin to pay for. Heh, I guess I just keep rackin' 'em up." The warm, syrupy tone was still there, but tainted with sadness. His fingers were calloused and comforting against your cheek, enough so that you found yourself mentally leaning into it; like you had done so many times before. However, the gasp that came from Jesse made you think that it may have actually happened, as the coolness of his other hand contrasted the flesh one as he cupped your other cheek.

"Sweetheart, d-did you actually hear all that? I mean, sure, I'd be embarrassed, but I promise I'll be just as happy."

You chuckled, though it was a throaty sound in actuality.

He laughed wholeheartedly and leaned down to press a kiss to your cool forehead; sighing deeply in his chest. Through the sterile scent of the room, he could still smell the coconut and tea tree oil that lingered on your skin, and he never thought that such a smell could bring him that much comfort. In the midst of it all, you managed to will a hand through the medicated haze; clutching onto the serape of his, though it was weak. Nonetheless, he was elated and took hold of your hand, kissing the top of it.

"You're somethin' else, you know that? I doubt anythin' really could stop you...God, I love you."

In response, the omnic core thrummed lightly and released a flurry of endorphins through your body; euphoria washing down in warm, gentle waves. You managed a gentle squeeze around his hand, lips lifted slightly in a smile. It wasn't much, but he took it for what it was.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblog #150

UPDATE 150: It’s a Circus in Here

Last time Aranea made a building fall on Jade right after she was knocked out. Needless to say, this can’t be good for Jade’s health. So let’s continue!

...way to shatter the excitement, Hussie. You just...took all the tension and dramatic momentum the recent events had, and singlehandedly destroyed it with two out-of-place images that weren’t even needed. Geez. I never had any doubts Hussie wrote at least half of Homestuck by the seat of his pants. I mean, I’m pretty sure he had many things planned, maybe an outline of the order of some events and what some characters would do, but also in moments like this it’s painfully obvious Hussie just...threw in whatever crossed his mind. That’s a terrible way of writing. My ask screener often told me that Andrew Hussie’s story would be refused by any editor unless the pay was monumental, mostly because Hussie’s shenanigans were simply no good at all in terms of keeping the pacing and momentum of the scenes, and in moments like these...I fully agree with her. Damn it, Hussie.

So what’s the judgment for Jade’s death?  The clock seems to indicate she’d revive – hopefully phasing through the building in the process – but Aranea’s powers seem to be way too powerful right now, to the point where her luck influenced the clock and made it have a Just verdict. Jade is dead. Permanently. Would Jane’s life powers even work now? It’s worth a try once Aranea has been dealt with and Jade can’t be controlled again, but until then...Jade is completely out of commission. Dang, Aranea. She’s cold, but I can’t help but admire a bit her methods, as a reader, of course.

Dave has decided to go to the planet where everything is happening and gives the Mayor a heartfelt goodbye, even kissing the Mayor on the forehead. Dave, um, you should stop that. I hadn’t realized it until a month and half or so ago, but infatilizing characters is something that irks me a lot. But yeah, Dave flies away to a portal, trying to get in contact with Rose to inform her there’s something very bad possibly happening.

Since Jade is currently dead, Jane knows she needs to use her powers of life to bring her back and try to turn the tides around, and Aranea isn’t going to try to stop it. She just will fly and tell Roxy to appear, she knows she’s there, observing the situation. Before Jane can use her powers...Gamzee comes flying from the sky and towards Jane. Okay, this is totally Aranea’s doing. I have to wonder how exactly she got Gamzee flying in middle of the sky when last time he was on the battleship, which was in Derse, which was transported who knows how long away. Maybe the Damaras transported him flying all the way here, I guess, but I can’t say I thought Gamzee would be in this scene! Kinda random, but fine.

Roxy isn’t happy at all to see Aranea and demands to know what’s going on.

ROXY: for real though we were gonna give that ring to callie  ARANEA: Hmm?  ROXY: callie my goddamn bffsy from space  ROXY: shes a ghost and i wanna save her from her bro  ARANEA: Ah yes. The female cheru8.  ARANEA: I am perfectly familiar with her plight, as well as the relevance she purportedly has with respect to her 8rother's downfall.  ARANEA: In fact, I was one of the first ever to theorize a8out that! :::;)  ROXY: SMUG  ARANEA: 8ut the situ8tion has changed. That is all ancient history now.  ARANEA: I'm sorry, Roxy. 8ut I have no use for your cheru8 friend in my plans.  ARANEA: She will not 8e playing a role of any significance.

When exactly did things change, Aranea? I mean, I’m pretty sure Vriska’s influence on Aranea had a lot to do with this, but it can’t have been an immediate change of plans. If I had to guess, I’d say it happened when the ship was almost getting to the place where Lord English’s juju was hidden. In terms of storytelling that was in this very same day, but since time doesn’t pass linearly everywhere in the Medium...that may have been millennia ago.

Roxy immediately tells Aranea to give the ring back, but of course Aranea refuses. In fact, to troll standards, everything Roxy said would count as a black romance solicitation. Oh, boy, what an odd romance pairing that’d be! Roxy/Aranea kismesisitude, hah. Aranea then proceeds to kill the levity by saying Jake couldn’t resist throwing himself all over Aranea earlier. Okay, you’re trying to goad Roxy into doing something, aren’t you? This is a trap. In fact, she outright says she needs to get rid of Roxy, just to make sure she won’t be able to meddle and keep trying to get the ring off Aranea’s hand. With some luck it’ll be just knocking her out, not murdering her via crushing with heavy objects.

Oh, also, imaginary Dirk is over there.

Yeah, Roxy was just knocked out. Good! No one died right now. Roxy is bound to appear in Calliope’s dream hideout, I suppose, where Calliope currently is feeling very, very lonely. It’s actually pretty heartbreaking to see her so dispirited.

CALLIOPE: have they all forgotten aboUt me?  CALLIOPE: i gUess i coUld not blame them for getting on with their lives.  CALLIOPE: after all, what Use am i?  CALLIOPE: the only remotely important thing there is for me to do is to go looking for a more important version of myself.  CALLIOPE: and i can't even bloody well do that mUch! 

...okay, Roxy, once everything is over and paradox space is saved you should consider asking the other revived Calliope to give the ring back so you can revive this version here. I’m not entirely sure what kind of person the doomed Calliope is, but if she’s anything like Calliope then she’d understand. Martyrdom would be nothing new to her, too, because I suspect the doomed Calliope took the second option when Yaldabaoth gave it, the option to die now and be very beneficial in the future. I just...it just feels rather sad to see Calliope like this.

Oh! What’s this, hm? Looks like a stage of some sort. The spiral also turns bright yellow. I’m not sure what’s going on...this isn’t something Roxy would do accidentally or intentionally, I think. There are footsteps coming, so Calliope hides behind the curtain and hopes for the best while also...shouting aloud to be left alone. That doesn’t help hiding, silly Calliope.

Well hello there! How did you even get here, Jade? Did you bring this stage with you? I suppose it makes sense, given that Jade just died, although it seems she hasn’t realized yet she’s dead, judging from her still visible eyes. Calliope hesitantly steps out, disguised as a troll, aaaaand scene change. Back to the trouble.

JANE: GET YOUR PAWS OFF ME YOU SHITFUCKING SHITFUCKER AUGH FUCK SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK FUCK. 

...well that language doesn’t fit Jane at all. Too simple and crude. I’m sure if she insulted it’d be a tad more complicated than this. Jane tries to shake Gamzee off, but isn’t able to do it.

JANE: DID YOU JUST TOUCH MY BOOB. DON'T TOUCH MY BOOB YOU FUCKFACED DUNG HUFFING TOILET GUZZLING IDIOT QUIPSTER SHITPECKER DICKLARK. 

That’s more like I imagine Jane would cuss, hah. Dave arrives right in this moment. Welcome to the party, Dave. He almost immediately finds Jade underneath the building, and then asks Gamzee for an explanation.

DAVE: not gonna answer me huh  DAVE: youre just gonna keep manhandling johns evil mom and not tell me what jades doing under this house  DAVE: sweet jesus youre an awful dude

There’s something charming in Dave’s way of talking I just find charming. I can’t exactly saw what it is, because I’m not sure, but I like it.

So, the deal here with imaginary Dirk is that he’s turning less imaginary. Perhaps a direct consequence of Jake’s hope powers? Soon he’s completely real and prepares to kill Aranea while Jake continues shouting lingo from 1890.

Down in the ground looks like Terezi and Rose have arrived to the planet! Terezi’s first action is to kick Gamzee away from Jane, much to Dave’s pleasure, who instead asks Jane about what’s happening. Yeah, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind telling it while she resurrects Jade.

DAVE: hey johns hot mom did you see what happened  DAVE: shit i mean  DAVE: johns evil mom  DAVE: did you happen to...  DAVE: damn  DAVE: ok that was a really embarrassing and inappropriate freudian slip there  DAVE: dont think im gonna rebound from that one 

You sure like calling people’s moms hot, Dave!

Terezi starts shouting everything she surely have wanted to shout for quite a while, insulting Gamzee’s religion and preference in beverages. Gamzee, still under Aranea’s control, I suppose, doesn’t respond at all. In middle of the rant, Terezi realizes Aranea is up there.

TEREZI: YOU 4ND SH3 4R3 1N C4HOOTS NOW, 4R3NT YOU  TEREZI: 4R3NT YOU!!! 

I’m not exactly sure what were Aranea’s intentions when she offered to heal Terezi, but maaaaybe Gamzee did make Terezi hate herself so she’d accept the offer. He can be that manipulative, whether it’s by his own will or under someone else’s orders. I don’t know. So while Terezi starts beating up Gamzee, Dirk starts trying to slice Aranea. Aim for the hand, Dirk!

So I’m stopping here for now.

Next update: three updates