#so i just go with the flow and see where it takes us

[aakeysmash]

maybes and sunscreen

college!sukuna masterlist

after almost a year of living together, you and college!sukuna are so accustomed to one another that you naturally slip up in the other’s conversations. maybe it's because you're both homebodies, or maybe it's because you've reached the silent agreement to keep the activities you do with yuuji hidden to preserve his innocent childhood (you learned that rumors run a long way inside your campus), or maybe it's because you started to ask sukuna less private questions, since he now seems to want to answer them even before you formulate them.

either way, the two of you always mention the other in conversations, and you don't even seem to notice, but your friends do.

"how about your house, man?" suguru asks sukuna from across the table, sipping his soda. they're sitting outside with satoru for lunch break, slouching on white plastic chairs, waiting for practice to start in less than ten minutes. days are getting longer the more summer break gets nearer, and the breeze flowing through the newly green leaves of the trees is a nice change from the humid stench of the locker rooms.

"dunno. the woman of the house is gonna bake cookies today," he shrugs, scrolling through his phone. he finds himself on a blurry zoomed in photo of a kitten covered in milk, and he smirks, hitting send after having selected your contact. you're going to love it.

"and?" geto asks, confused.

"and i don't know if she wants me to help her or not," sukuna continues, not bothering to look up from his screen, acting like he's not going to pester you until you let him help. and steal some of your cookie batter, too.

"it's the finale, bro, we've been talking about it since december. are you really not going to watch it for some cookies?" his raven haired friend exclaims, baffled. satoru only lowers his glasses on his nose, crossing his arms on his chest.

"oh, i'm going to watch it. got her hooked up on it too," the pink haired man says, a certain tilt to his voice matching the tilt of his head, as if he's saying are you crazy? i'm not missing it. "i don't know if she'd want you there, though."

geto rolls his eyes and satoru snickers, shaking his head. "we just want to watch the game on your tv. are you afraid she's going to feel uncomfortable with us there, my lord captain?" he mocks, sighing. lazily, sukuna glances his way.

"it's not her i'm worried about," he says, raising one of his eyebrows, maroon eyes squinting on a spot behind his friend's back.

"what does that even mean?" mutters geto, even more confused. it’s not like they’ve never seen you or have never been inside your house when you were there, so what’s different this time?

suddenly, sukuna grins like a madman, uncrossing his legs from on top of the table and standing up with his helmet under his arm.

“where are you goi-“ his dark haired friend starts, but satoru puts one of his hands on the other’s shoulder, effectively stopping him, whispering just wait.

sukuna takes a couple of steps, getting out of the gentle shadows of the trees above the table, still grinning.

“hi, baby. did you miss me so much you had to come to see me at practice?” he asks your nearing figure. you’re wearing a dress, the breeze soothingly flowing through your hair, and he takes a second to admire how graceful you look in the middle of the green garden. are the flowers you picked with yuuji the other day still fresh? maybe he should get more. maybe you’d like that. maybe you’d smile. maybe you'd thank him.

“i’m here because i knew you were never going to bring sunscreen with you, dickhead,” you huff, blowing your hair out of your vision, frowning. his grin only grows before he forces it away. typical.

“i don’t need that shit,” he rolls his eyes, turning on his heels and going towards the stadium. he knows you’re going to follow him. and you do.

“put it on! i’m not joking, sukuna,” you whine, trying to fall in step with him. “it’s going to be so good for your skin, come on.”

“it’s sticky and i don’t like feeling like a pussy,” he growls, going faster toward the benches inside the stadium and plopping down on them.

“you like pussy, though,” you shrug, forcing yourself between his parted legs, rummaging through your bag.

“i like you too, baby, but that doesn’t mean you’ll let me stick it in your pussy, does it,” he asks you smugly. you punch him on the shoulder, bewildered.

“you’re so disgusting,” you scoff, opening the little spf tube you brought in your purse just for him. "and don't tell me you like me when you never listen to me in the first place," you playfully add, caressing his face to smooth it out, and he lets you get his unruly hair off of his forehead. maybe he likes how you don't take the things he says to heart. maybe he just says them because he knows he's getting a snarky comment back.

“you didn’t say no, though,” he chuckles, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in your presence. your touch on his features is relaxing. he honestly thinks he could fall asleep if you were in any other setting.

“i’m letting you talk just because i’m in a male dominated field and even if i don’t agree i don’t want to die,” you deadpan. you smear the white cream on his nose, on top of the horizontal tattoo, and massage it into his skin. then you do the same thing with his other markings, making sure they’re protected enough to shimmer in the blazing hot sun.

“i wouldn’t let you die on me anyway,” he mutters. he gets both of his hands on your exposed thighs, keeping you closer, softly rubbing his thumbs in your muscles. "are you fucking finished? i hate this," he bites, frowning. you hum, lazily smiling down at him, rubbing his frown away with your fingertips.

"you're going to be the prettiest girl on the field," you coo. you can feel his mean glare from beneath his eyelids, and you almost shiver. "you're so going to thank me in a couple of years," you add, resting your palms on his cheeks and turning his head up. he opens his eyes slowly, staring into yours intently. his thumb catches on the fluttering hem of you dress while he draws little circles on your legs. he hears his coach screaming for his team to start running, but in this moment, he doesn't care that much. maybe the heat is getting to his head. maybe the soft smile you're looking at him with is making him a little bit weak in the knees.

"wanna make cookies today? we can watch the match together, perhaps ask the brat if he wants to join too," he says, rough voice kept low, almost as if this was a you and him kind of thing. maybe he already planned to ask you to do something with him when he was talking to his friends just a couple of minutes ago. maybe he lied, telling them you were the one who chose to do something, when it's not true. maybe the way satoru is patting suguru on the back with an "i told you so" look on his face isn't casual. maybe the one he was worried about all along was himself.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with your friends?" you ask him, tilting your head, positioning your thumbs on the fake tattoos on his cheekbones. almost as if you could cover their pupils and make him see less.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with me?" he genuinely responds, a somber look on his features. you think it's the first time he doesn't have a mocking grin on his lips. you ruffle the pink hair just above his left ear.

"maybe."

[seitmai]

He was also going to miss you desperately. The honeymoon stage was still going strong, and quitting you cold turkey right now was going to be rough. There wasn't a moment when you and he were together that you weren't touching each other.

That man had an addiction 🤭

"I'm going to have to wear all of my honeymoon goodies for my own entertainment for months," you whispered, tits spilling out of the lace as you arched your back. "No, no, no," he scolded softly, tossing his shirt aside and unzipping his jeans. "Don't be a tease, Baby."

He is begging

"I'm always thinking about you." Your words were an ego boost.

She just knows what her husband needs

You stopped taking birth control a few weeks ago. The two of you decided to go with the flow and see what happens next. It felt nice to keep that kind of pressure out of the bedroom, especially when Bradley knew he'd be just as content with six kids or none. It's not like he needed anything besides you, and he told you that every single day.

No risk no fun lol

I also missread it at first as "Bradley was content with six kids or MORE" hahah 😅

You eased yourself up and stood next to him, assessing the blankets and his open duffle sitting on the floor against the wall. "What if I told you this was all just a ploy to keep you here with me instead of getting you ready to leave?" "Then I would say I love you."

That's a ploy he would gladly fall for

Instead, you did the best you could to make it home to your computer where you could type paragraph after paragraph to him, letting him know what was going on back in California. You sent him a plethora of photos, some of which didn't include your face as a precaution. You even went into detail about how much you missed him at bedtime. And the best part was, you got just as much, if not more, in return. His days were largely repetitious, but there was always something new he was telling you about. His gym selfies never disappointed, and neither did the paragraphs where he told you in an abundance of detail how much he missed waking up next to you.

They just are a true match

Your students had been anticipating it for weeks, and you had some eager faces looking back at you on the Monday morning when you stood at the front of your classroom and said, "We're about to embark on a flight that will take us through our math, science and language arts classes for weeks to come. As we learn all about aviation, we'll be writing to a naval aviator on an aircraft carrier, and we'll even get to visit a local naval base for a field trip. Let's start out by learning the definitions of a few words that we'll be using frequently."

I feel like the aviation part of the curriculum is gonna become legendary really quick, the next year you can already hear the new fourth graders excitingly talk at recess or breaks: "I'm in Mrs Bradshaws class and my older sister told me around this last year they started with aviation. And a real aviator visited them! And a super cool mechanic!!" And another one adds, having heard the conversation topic from the younger students before then in the bus line: "It's all true! And you get to visit the base. And Mrs wasn't always called Mrs Bradshaw, she had a different name but she married the aviator we wrote letters!" And another one joins in: "And if you go to the library events Mr Marty is always there. He is also in the Navy and he is the best Mechanic that's what Mrs Bradshaws husband said. He is the best at fixing planes!"

It's just gonna turn in this whole legendary thing with more and more outlandish added stories after a few years hahga

He considered skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in his bunk, but he could tell he was already losing weight. You weren't around to keep him well fed, so when his stomach started to rumble, he made a point to head for the noisy mess hall. 

Give that poor man some good food!

When he went to the small window in front of the mail center and gave his name, a box was thrust into his hands. Bradley's heart leapt when he saw the return address was from Mira Mesa Elementary School. He should have been expecting this, but he was suddenly happy you kept it as a surprise. A smile curled along his lips.

What a great surprise 🥰🥹

To MY US Naval Aviator (Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw)

Oh I love them and I will miss these two 🥰

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: While Bradley thought it was unfair of the Navy to mess with him while he was still in his honeymoon phase, he certainly did love getting mail from you.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, Bradley being husband material, 18+

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

That autumn....

As soon as you led Bradley inside after he drove the two of you home from Salvatore's, you ran your fingers along his cheek and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "You had a lunch picnic with Thai food on the beach. And then you got pasta for dinner. Do you have any other requests?" you asked, using your strict classroom voice which made Bradley's mouth water. 

"I do, actually," he whispered, melting into your touch. "How about some of that lingerie you picked out in Paris?"

The honeymoon was almost three months ago, but not an hour went by where Bradley didn't reminisce about the days he got to enjoy the view of the Eiffel Tower and the view of your ass while he fucked you. It always left him with a smile on his face. But his smile started to falter when he remembered that he was shipping out tomorrow, and he wouldn't return until after the New Year. At least he would be allowed to communicate with you this time. That was the only thing saving him from almost certain despair.

"I think that can be arranged," you told him with a smile, unbuttoning your top as he stumbled along after you. "But you have to wait out here until I'm ready."

Bradley groaned and leaned on the wall in the hallway, watching you bounce along to the bedroom without him while you laughed. He didn't mind waiting a few minutes, because he was going to love whatever you were about to do. He was also going to miss you desperately. The honeymoon stage was still going strong, and quitting you cold turkey right now was going to be rough. There wasn't a moment when you and he were together that you weren't touching each other.

He hadn't even finished packing his duffle yet, because he didn't want this to feel real. He was planning on doing that tonight with your help, kissing you as you folded up his shirts and lined up his socks on the bed. But that was going to have to wait a few minutes. You opened the door to reveal the sheer nightie hugging your body as you pressed your thighs together and bit your lip.

Bradley was pushing away from the wall, heading right for you. "Gorgeous," he murmured, pulling you against him and walking you backwards to the bed. "Baby, I'm going to miss this too much."

His heart was pounding in his ears, hands full of your lace covered ass before you dropped to the bed on your back. "I'm going to have to wear all of my honeymoon goodies for my own entertainment for months," you whispered, tits spilling out of the lace as you arched your back.

"No, no, no," he scolded softly, tossing his shirt aside and unzipping his jeans. "Don't be a tease, Baby." You grinned as you turned your head to the side, and Bradley stepped out of his remaining clothing before he climbed in bed. He was hovering above you, lips pressed to your ear as he whispered, "You'll wear the goodies for me, too. And you'll email me every mouth watering photo that you take of your fingers shoved deep in your pussy."

"Bradley," you whined, bucking your hips up until he had to hold you in place with his big hands on your body.

"I want a little treat every time you touch yourself. And I want to know that you're thinking about me."

"I'm always thinking about you."

Your words were an ego boost. Just the kind of thing that would get him through this work assignment and back into your arms. "When you're alone and thinking about me, I want some pictures, pretty girl. A whole inbox full of them. Some sweet ones," he crooned, kissing his way along your jaw to your lips. "And some dirty ones," he added, mouth teasing your skin until your nipple was between his lips and you were whining. He sucked gently, tugging until his lips popped free, leaving you begging for more with your fingers in his hair.

You stopped taking birth control a few weeks ago. The two of you decided to go with the flow and see what happens next. It felt nice to keep that kind of pressure out of the bedroom, especially when Bradley knew he'd be just as content with six kids or none. It's not like he needed anything besides you, and he told you that every single day.

"I'm going to miss my wife," he crooned, guiding his cock inside your slick perfection as soon as you spread your legs. He rocked in and out of you slowly, enjoying the feel of your body and your voice and your sweet scent. Memorizing everything. Telling himself he could get through the time away from you as long as he could come back to this.

It was so late when Bradley finally left the bed. You and he were wrung out and fucked out. Fingers laced together, barely moving, unable to go for a fourth round. "That was wild," you laughed when he finally rolled away from you, dizzy as he stood and looked at the wrecked bedding around your naked body.

"Shit, Gorgeous." He was laughing, too as he said, "I still need to finish packing in the next five hours."

You eased yourself up and stood next to him, assessing the blankets and his open duffle sitting on the floor against the wall. "What if I told you this was all just a ploy to keep you here with me instead of getting you ready to leave?"

"Then I would say I love you."

----------------------------------

Waking up for work in a bed that was half cold was not your idea of a good time. You shivered every morning that Bradley was gone, especially when November brought with it a chilly bite to the air. The commute from Coronado to Mira Mesa and back each day felt like a punishment when you knew you weren't going to arrive home to a husband who was excited to see you and hear about your adventures in teaching.

Instead, you did the best you could to make it home to your computer where you could type paragraph after paragraph to him, letting him know what was going on back in California. You sent him a plethora of photos, some of which didn't include your face as a precaution. You even went into detail about how much you missed him at bedtime.

And the best part was, you got just as much, if not more, in return. His days were largely repetitious, but there was always something new he was telling you about. His gym selfies never disappointed, and neither did the paragraphs where he told you in an abundance of detail how much he missed waking up next to you.

While you made it a point to spend time with Natasha, Edith, Ruby and Marty, the loneliness was somehow worse now that you had rings on your finger. The best thing to happen was the arrival of the day when your new fourth grade class started their unit on aviation.

Your students had been anticipating it for weeks, and you had some eager faces looking back at you on the Monday morning when you stood at the front of your classroom and said, "We're about to embark on a flight that will take us through our math, science and language arts classes for weeks to come. As we learn all about aviation, we'll be writing to a naval aviator on an aircraft carrier, and we'll even get to visit a local naval base for a field trip. Let's start out by learning the definitions of a few words that we'll be using frequently."

Later that week, you had a sizable cardboard box packed up with letters and snacks for your husband. Instead of telling him exactly when the first package would arrive, you left it as a surprise for him to stumble upon.

-------------------------------

Bradley was exhausted. The mechanical crew on this deployment was nowhere near as kind or competent as Marty, and he found himself constantly visiting their shop to work through issues with his aircraft. He missed his friends and his home and his wife. He missed you so fucking much. All of the letters and emails you sent him were fantastic, but he even missed having a bunch of pen pals to converse with at the end of the day.

Every happy thought that entered his mind seemed to be pushed aside when he realized he was still a long way from returning to San Diego. He considered skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in his bunk, but he could tell he was already losing weight. You weren't around to keep him well fed, so when his stomach started to rumble, he made a point to head for the noisy mess hall. 

The cabbage rolls were disgusting, but at least the aircraft carriers were consistent. He picked at his meal and then ate two plates of dessert to make himself feel a little bit better. When he was sorting his dirty dishes and tray into the appropriate place, he was surprised to hear his name being called amongst some others.

"Bradshaw! You've got unclaimed mail!"

He perked up immediately. How did he have something else to claim? He picked up an enormous envelope from you the other day along with a card from Edith. Did you send him a handwritten note again already?

When he went to the small window in front of the mail center and gave his name, a box was thrust into his hands. Bradley's heart leapt when he saw the return address was from Mira Mesa Elementary School. He should have been expecting this, but he was suddenly happy you kept it as a surprise. A smile curled along his lips. He could have some regular pen pals to correspond with again. His smile grew wider when he looked at the way you addressed the box to him in your tidy handwriting.

To MY US Naval Aviator (Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw)

---------------------------------

Bradley has the ultimate pen pal in his wife. Thanks for reading this series which ended up being so much longer than originally intended! Thanks for all of the love and feedback along the way! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[yourmoonie]

DEALING WITH DOUBTS

Intro:

When doubts, fears, or anxiety arise, don’t fight with them or think that it is a dead-end. Instead, acknowledge them with gratitude. Recognize that fears are trying to protect you, doubts can motivate growth, and impatience signals your eagerness for good things. Invite your fears to wonder, -> "What if success is close?" Let doubts challenge limits and turn impatience into excitement for what’s coming. Rather than resisting old beliefs, shift your view on these emotions, give them a new purpose, and trust your intuition.

1. Shifting your POV

Instead of seeing doubts as barriers, let’s view them as part of our growth. When doubts pop up, it's because something within us wants reassurance or clarity. It’s a signal, not a dead-end. Now stay with me

2. UNDERSTANDING WHY IT APPEARS

Doubts don’t just appear for no reason; they’re often tied to past experiences or beliefs

Doubt -> an underlying cause -> why It appears -> how to reframe It -> moving forward

3. DONT FIGHT WITH YOURSELF

Doubts can actually help us to question, refine, & build more solid beliefs

Each doubt that you move through gives you a deeper trust in yourself. Like a good friend who’s honest with you, doubts can be useful if you listen, learn, and grow beyond them

The example:

✨️THE DOUBT: What if I am not good enough to get my SP's attention

✨️ LISTEN: Hear the doubt as f it's a friend being honest, pointing out where you might feel insecure.

✨️ LEARN: Ask yourself why this feeling exists. Maybe it's tied to a belief about self-worth.

✨️ GROW BEYOND: Use this awareness to focus on building confidence and self-love, reminding yourself that you're worthy and valuable just as you are

✨️ RESULT: Instead of letting the doubt hold you back, you're using it as a push to strengthen your self-image

4. PICK & CHOOSE

After acknowledging & understanding doubts, it’s time to release them

Imagine each doubt as a passing cloud

You notice it, see what it’s about, and then watch it drift away. You don’t have to cling to every thought

Choose which ones you want to keep

5. REMIND YOURSELF OF YOUR TRUTH

When a doubt comes up, gently remind yourself of your truth

Let’s say you doubt if you’re capable of achieving your desire

You could say, “I trust my ability to manifest & I trust myself”

It’s not about forcing the doubt away but bringing yourself back to your inner belief

6. Appreciating them & letting them go

The next time you catch yourself doubting, try saying, “Thank you for showing me what I need to work on.” This way, you honor the doubt but also make a conscious decision to not hold onto it. Acknowledging it without fear takes away its power over you

7. TODAY'S LESSONS

So today, we learned to:

✅️ To acknowledge the doubts without fearing them

✅️ Appreciate what they teach us

✅️ Letting them go and refocusing on the truth

Doubts don’t have to control you. They can be gentle reminders to dig deeper into your own strength

Trust that you’re on the right path

Some ground techniques for you:

Mindfulness Exercise (My favorite):

When doubts or overwhelm arise, bring yourself back to the present moment. Count your fingers, look around, and connect with your surroundings. Remind yourself that you exist in this moment, and that the thoughts passing through your mind aren’t truly you. Let these thoughts drift by and rest in the knowing that everything is working out in your favor.

Energetic Grounding Exercise (Another favorite):

✨ Start by sitting comfortably in a chair. Visualize roots, cords, or chains extending from your feet deep into the earth and from your base chakra. Feel as though you’re solidly anchored, like a tripod.

✨ Then, imagine a rope or pillar of light entering your crown chakra. This light can be any color that feels healing and powerful for you. See it flow through your body, traveling from your head to your feet, passing through each chakra.

✨ Declare out loud that you are grounded to the earth. Visualize toxins and negativity releasing through the roots into the soil, where they are transformed into energy. Allow the crown chakra connection to draw in healing energy that flows throughout your being.

This practice can help you feel centered, calm, and aligned with positive energy.

[theflagscene]

Let’s talk Jack and Joke’s perceived parental roles -

It’s laid out in plain words in episode ten so that there is absolutely no doubt whatsoever, Jack and Joke have taken Toi Ting in and have no plans on returning her to her deadbeat abusive bio-dad. I believe that it going to stay that way, so we’re going to keep to that assumption of her being adopted or fostered by them legally once everything is sorted.

Note: not looking for arguments about the legitimacy of blood relations verses found/chosen family. An adopted child is that person’s child, you do not need to have carried them in your body for them to be yours.

I adore that YinWar have been pushing back against the stereotypes around gay men and queer media in general about what roles a person takes in the relationship, they’ve mostly been focusing on the sexual aspect because that is the part that people tend to get the most hung up on.

Yet I find it wildly interesting how easily Jack and Joke fall into what would be considered the ‘heteronormative parental roles’ when it comes to Toi Ting. It’s not a bad thing! No, it’s actually quite nice to see. They’re not forcing any ‘husband/wife’ ideals into their relationship, they just naturally fall into the roles that are appropriate for them as a couple and a family unit.

Jack is very much in the ‘father’ role, remember, father does not instantly mean masculine or emotionally stunted. He is the protector, he is a trained martial artist and debt collector, he is physically intimidating. He is firm and chastising but also patient and forgiving, he is the one Toi Ting feels physically safe with the most, she runs to him for help, she learns her bravery and defiance from him. He absolutely will pat her back, smooth down her hair and allow himself be to dragged away by the hand to get ice cream. He is playing the role of not just a father figure, but a daddy. (stop giggling at that word, the internet has ruined us all 😝)

Meanwhile, Joke has one hundred percent filled the ‘mother’ role for Toi Ting. Again, not because he’s femme or whatever - side note, there’s nothing wrong with being femme! Joke is a natural carer, he wears his emotions on his sleeve because he never had anyone care about him before. He is gentle and a listener, both things that serve him well as a thief. When Toi Ting comes running to Jack for physical protection, it is Joke that offers emotional protection. He is the one that takes her into his arms and calms her down, he hugs her, reassures her and speaks with clam and loving words to bring her big scary emotions back down to a more manageable level. Joke can redirect her attention and is the one that sits and paints with her, Jack just ‘supervises’, aka is a big dope that’ll ruin the painting lol. But together Jack and Joke are able to offer Toi Ting what she needs, both a mother figure and a father figure, regardless of their genders.

Which leads me into the absolute heartbreak of a scene at the end of episode ten, where Jack and Joke find themselves in the one place no parent ever wants to find themselves. Stuck on the other side of those damnable white doors, unable to get to your child.

Joke has an emotional response, very much a mother’s response. Again, mothers tend to be the ‘emotional nurturers’ so them being more giving with their emotions is to be expected. And I would just like to point out how exceptional War plays that role, he is a mother waiting in terror to find out if his baby is dying or dead.

The blank horrified stare, the shaking hands and quivering movements, the fact that his legs fail him and he ends up curled up on the floor. Covering his mouth to keep the sobs in, yet unable to stop the silent flow of tears, barely even noticing when Hoy tries to comfort him. Joke doesn’t snap out of his shock until Jack shows up.

Jack on the other hand has a very ‘fatherly’ response, the pacing, the pinched expression, the heavy breathing and muttering before just exploding with anger, swearing loudly and looking for someone to blame. He can’t break down just yet, he’s too angry, too scared, he’s not the emotional support. He’s the protector, the provider and he hates himself for failing. Yin played that so well, how he kept moving to touch his head, putting his hands on his hips, fidgeting as he paced, forcing the camera to keep up with his near frantic movements.

Where Joke froze, Jack found movement.

Where Joke was quiet, Jack exclaimed loudly.

Where Joke allowed tears to flow, Jack held his pain tightly in.

Joke and Jack are Toi Ting’s mother and father, and that final hospital scene just proved it.

[indieyuugure]

How long does it take you to create a page and how do you usually go about creating an update? Where do you start?

It depends on the page. Some pages can take as many as 8 hours to complete while others maybe 5? It really has to do with the number of panels and the complexity (generally speaking it takes 1 hour per panel)

I always start by paneling out my page, so drawing all the boarders and designing the way the page flows. Then I add text and rough sketches. Typically “rough sketches” look something like this:

Just something to get down what I want and express the scene (also so I don’t get what I want). This step typically takes about an hour purely because I am indecisive and want everything a certain way.

After that I start going through and finalizing drawings and dialogue to be how I want. The last step is then adding sound effects and speech bubbles (though sometimes I will actually do the speech bubbles before drawing the pretty images depending on my day)

I use Clip Studio Paint which has tools like panel tools (literally like vector graphics that generate boxes that you can adjust and break) as well as bubble tools that help streamline a lot of this.

The page contents are decided by my script in a google doc I have that has every episode written out in advance (usually about 1 chapter ahead of what I’m working on). Occasionally I make edits because I catches inconsistencies in my writing or I get better ideas, but for the most part I follow it pretty closely. Granted it’s pretty vague, but in terms of following event orders and plot progression, it’s pretty close.

It looks something like this:

As you can see, there’s some differences in small details, but for the most part it’s almost the same. (I believe this draft hasn’t been updated to the version in which Shredder doesn’t arrive in New York until chapter 4)

Good question! :]

[ceilidho]

Do you have any advice for a novice writer who can’t for the life of them figure out how to begin a story and/or scene? I’ve been slowly working on a novel in my free time for the last couple of years, and I feel like I have a decently solid plot and outline, but every time I go to start the actual process of putting words on paper I always get stuck. I’ve gone back and read the first few pages/chapters of other fantasy books to see how published authors do it, but I can never seem to find the right words or starting point that feels authentic and fitting to my own work. It always feels so clunky and out of place, and although I try to follow the ‘rule’ of starting the story in the middle of the action/a moment of change so that it doesn’t feel boring, nothing I come up with seems to help things flow into the beginning of the plot :/

ugh that's hard because actually forcing yourself to write is truly the hardest part. a lot of it is just nerves. like genuinely you're just experiencing stage fright.

that's why i love using tumblr as a micro-writing platform. when i make stupid little posts here, it feels low effort and i don't attach any anxiety to it, and actually that helps a lot when later on i take bits and pieces of stuff i've written here and add it to larger works (if you were following me when I was actively writing "landscape with honey" or "superstore" you'll remember i took a lot of asks that i'd already answered and just shoved them into the fic).

i highly recommend making a word cloud or vocabulary list for yourself if you're trying to cultivate a specific atmosphere as well. i have one on my phone for random words that i want to use.

then i think it might be helpful for you to try and break it down piece by piece. like if you have a scene where a character is packing a suitcase in order to catch a train, just focus on the first part where they're packing their belongings. there isn't a 'right' way to start a story or write something, so don't beat yourself up because the paragraph/sentence doesn't match perfectly what's in your head. the first draft is always going to be rough as well.

try to think of it like when an artist starts a piece. usually they start with simple shapes that they slowly add on to. you can think of your first draft kind of like this:

(image source)

[creative-frequency]

Lucanis Dellamorte x Reader: Late Nights & Delayed Confessions, pt.3

Summary: There is only one bed. Part 3 of 5. Word count: 980 Notes: (Unresolved) romantic tension, pining, you’re an Antivan Crow, no spoilers for Veilguard → Part 2 → My writing masterlist

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Lucanis prompted instantly as you stepped inside your room.

“Don’t be silly,” you replied.

“Then where do you suggest I rest? In the closet?” He spread his arms and pointedly looked around.

“Hm, it might be a tight fit, but…”

Lucanis scoffed.

This familiar back and forth brought back remnants of times that were somehow simpler, somehow more filled with hopes and dreams. You had long since abandoned those three notions in everything related to Lucanis Dellamorte.

“There’s enough room for us both,” you continued as nonchalantly as possible. Meanwhile the thought of sharing a bed with him made your pulse quicken.

You both looked at the said bed. It looked even smaller now.

Lucanis inhaled deeply and searched your face for a moment. He probably didn’t find what he was so intent on seeing since he sighed again, clearly vexed, and crossed over the floor to sit on the bed. Without any further ado, he started taking off his cloak, jacket and boots, and lovingly placed three throwing knives, a dagger and a short sword on the bedside table.

You just stood there. Staring. Probably your mouth hanging open with a high probability of a line of drool. So ladylike.

Sure, you had seen him taking off his… stuff and not just in your daydreams. You had seen men undressing, and been an active participant in the activity and what usually ensued after, but witnessing Lucanis go through the motions made your heart lodge in your throat. It felt somehow very wrong and very right.

Suddenly it also felt like decades had passed since the last time you had been alone with him. Memories of flowing wine and a secluded balcony in Treviso surfaced. It had been a hell of a contract and the execution had been flawless. Some visuals of the celebrations afterwards were still hazy and you hadn’t dared to ask Lucanis to clear up the fog.

There was… heat. And heartache. A wine-induced drunken haze? Or maybe something more.

You shook your head to dissipate the tingling sensation. You hadn’t asked Lucanis about that night before and you wouldn’t start that conversation now.

You started taking off your earrings, gaze bouncing between the master assassin and your own motions in the mirror.

“Are you sure the man wasn’t just trying to rob you because you’re walking around in those?” Lucanis met your eyes through the mirror and nodded to the small pile of jewellery on the side table.

“Mm. Maybe,” you ventured softly, “But they were a gift from Illario on last Satinalia, so I wanted to wear them.”

Lucanis looked away, but didn’t comment. That frustrating, perfectly blank slate on his handsome face would be a frightening opponent in Wicked Grace.

You didn’t exactly hurry in preparing – mostly mentally – to bed, and yet the moment still arrived altogether too soon. Lucanis was waiting for you, stalling. You could see he didn’t approve of the idea, but had likely arrived through a very precise, logical line of thought to the conclusion that this couldn’t be helped. For one night, you could sleep standing on your head if need be. Lucanis was probably thinking along the same lines. You needed to be up early and well rested for the journey back to Treviso in the morning. Viago would actually murder you if the Merchant Prince contract wouldn’t be handled by the end of the week.

“I’ll take the door’s side,” you said and embarrassment burned hot because of how squeaky your voice was.

“Right.”

You avoided looking at Lucanis and shuffled to your side of the bed. It was so small. This was a terrible idea.

The mattress dipped behind your back as Lucanis laid down. There was only one blanket and you cursed yourself for not having the foresight to snatch an extra one from Illario’s room.

You lifted the blanket and tossed the other half of it behind you so that Lucanis could have what little comfort it offered. Both of you were mostly dressed, but it seemed disrespectful to hoard it all to yourself.

Lucanis didn’t say anything as he settled the blanket over his side, but you were already feeling the warming effect of sharing. You scooted just an inch backward to narrow the gap between your bodies.

“You’re going to fall off the bed. Come closer,” Lucanis said quietly.

Those two last words rushed the air from your lungs, attached your heart into your throat to prevent inhaling more and threw a match into the barrel of gaatlok inside your chest. Heat rushed through your whole body to chase the escaped air and for a second, breathing ever again seemed impossible.

Lucanis turned slightly to look over his shoulder. You were petrified.

“Fiore?”

Could he not.

“I-I’m fine,” you managed.

He turned back and silence fell.

You really needed to calm down. Treat it as just a job. It was not the first time you were sleeping next to another warm body. You both were reasonable and functional adults. This was a matter of convenience. If Lucanis realised you were doing calming breathing exercises, he didn’t address it.

He shifted a little, tugged at the blanket and let it loosen again. You focused on breathing.

Lucanis scooted backward just like you had done and all of a sudden your back was pressed against his. A backwash of the heat flooded back into you. Forcing your body to relax was suddenly effortless. Like this warmth had been what you were just waiting for in order to settle in for the night. Your breaths were steady. Lucanis’ back was moving subtly in tandem with his breathing.

Now, if only you could have fallen into dreamless sleep.

He had called you ‘Fiore’.

Who had you been kidding, there was absolutely no way you could fall asleep next to Lucanis Dellamorte.

-

→ TBC

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

omg hi if ur inbox is open can u give us a short blurb/your thoughts on or some kind of headcanon list for yan tim drake (romantic) bc ur interpretation of him is so yum🤤 i like how you rlly focus on more darker aspects of his character which i dont see a lot of ppl doing unfortunately bc the way he’s a complete FREAK LMFAO🫣🫣

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒…

!!! GN reader, mentally ill Tim, psychotic Tim, just Tim, he’s a problem, manic/depressive episodes, violent tendencies, suicidal tendencies, stalking, kidnapping, obsessive behaviors, gross ways to show affection, slight insinuation of pervy Tim, blood, mutilation, harm to reader mentioned, self-harm, severed body parts, drugging, gaslighting.

YAAAAYYYYYYYYY, TIM DRAKE TIME!!!! This is so long overdue. I’ve been meaning to write for him, but… it just hasn’t happened yet. I hope the ideas will start flowing after I get some of this off my chest. I’ve been harboring so many miscellaneous Tim thoughts for a while.

(Y’all. The CW on this just kept getting longer and longer. My bad.)

First thing’s first, Tim is a fucking mess. There’s no way to know for sure which version of him you’re gonna get each day. Maybe he’s going through a manic episode, coming up with batshit crazy schemes and going on about things that don’t make sense. Maybe he’ll then swing into a depressive fit, where he can’t even bring himself to get up from the floor. Maybe he wakes up completely fine after an hour long nap, regretting whatever initial brash decisions he made. Maybe he quickly turns violent at the sound of knocking at his door. Maybe he wants to claw his own arteries out after trying to maintain a normal social interaction.

The possibilities are endless! Which makes him extremely dangerous.

If you’ve caught the eye of Tim Drake… yikes. Good luck. There’s a chance you don’t even know who he is before he inevitably kidnaps you (completely on a whim, no less). Maybe you’re a total stranger he saw on the street once, captivating him and causing him to spiral into a twisted obsession. While I’ll defend Tim against the fandom allegations until my lungs give out, I’ll admit: they’re on to something when it comes to stalker Tim. Bro definitely has pictures of you covering every square inch of his walls. And, yes, it’s to the point where they overlap each other.

Kidnapping can take anywhere between 3 days and 3 years. During that time, he may try to weasel his way into your life in an attempt to win you over... though we all know how well that would go. As I’ve mentioned before, he may be attractive, but he’s such an off-putting person. Just being around him is enough to give you the creeps. And it doesn’t help he’s completely unaware of how weird some behaviors are. Tim... honey… you can’t shamelessly stare at people with a startling grin like that. I know you’re thinking about how much you want to lick your darling-to-be’s neck, but it’s weird.

Whether he attempts to interact with you or not, one thing’s for sure: he’s stealing your shit. Clothes, toothbrushes, half-eaten food, straws, whatever he can get his hands on. Don’t ask what he does with it. You don’t wanna know. Tim is a neeeaaaasty freak, to the point where even he thinks to himself, “what the fuck is wrong with me” after he calms down from a fit.

Oh, speaking of guilt, Tim is filled with that shit. He may swing from various stages of instability, but there are moments where he’s perfectly fine. And those are the moments where he has to grapple with the consequences of his own actions. Those can range from slightly scaring someone to causing irreversible damage. There have been many times where he snapped out of some episode with blood dribbling down hands and chunks of skin under his fingernails. Who did he hurt? Could be someone else, could be himself, could be you. Who knows!!

Let’s actually get into his suicidal tendencies a bit. His arms and legs are covered in scratches and cuts. Now, this could be explained by his vigilante life, but it gets harder to justify when you get to the bite marks at angles that only make sense if they were self-inflicted. Oh, and also the carvings of your name. He does that a lot. It’s like you’re with him everywhere he goes!! And kind of on the same note, he wants you to have him with you as well!! This could come in the form of strips of skin, vials of blood, toes, an eye, an ear, a spleen… just whatever he’s willing to cut off or out of himself in the moment.

His suicidal tendencies are also connected to those moments of guilt I mentioned before. After calming down and realizing what he’s done, he may harm himself as some sort of penance; especially if he’s done something to you. Depending on how far he spirals from his guilt, he may actually enact “an eye for an eye” (perhaps in the most literal sense) to help make up for what he’s done. Who knows, maybe he’ll replace missing pieces of you with his own. Will it work? No idea. Maybe a skin graph or two, but let’s hope you don’t have to find things out in the more extreme cases.

I think it’s important to keep in mind that Tim Drake is just generally fucked-up. “Normal” Tim doesn’t mean “completely well-adjusted” Tim, it just means he’s not acting on some manic or brash decision. Normal Tim would be fine with chaining or drugging you if he’s justified it to himself. As long as he’s not causing active physical harm to you, he probably won’t see anything wrong with whatever he’s doing in the long run. It’s for your own good, okay? Don’t worry, he’s gone through the possibilities and failsafes. Nothing bad will happen to you!

Unfortunately, manic Tim does not go through the possibilities and failsafes. Well, he kind of does, but the logic is far from realistic and runs in total circles. Whereas drugging you has a rational (fucked up, but still rational) reason behind it — to keep you immobile — filling your ear canal with cement takes some mental gymnastics. Manic Tim doesn’t want you to listen to anyone else. Solution? You can’t hear through concrete, right? At that point, you’re at the mercy of his mood swing RNG. Let’s hope he calms down enough to take a step back and really think about this. Hmm… filling someone’s ears with cement… probably not healthy. Wow. Silly Tim! He let himself get carried away, didn’t he? Whoops! There are more logical ways to keep you from listening to anyone else.

That’s where manipulation comes in. I mean, come on. Y’all know who his mentor is, right? Stable Tim is wicked good at manipulation. Huh? He’s acting weird? Well, he didn’t want to say anything, but he was actually thinking the same thing about you. Yeah, you’ve been kind of off lately… is there something wrong? You sure? You know he’s there for you, right? Okay, just making sure. A gaslighting king when he’s in the right headspace for it. Too bad his psychotic aura gives him away; he’d probably be really good at keeping up appearances if he just got medicated or something.

So… yeah. Just some Tim thoughts. What a charmer, amiright? I don’t think this one’s salvageable. No amount of therapy could ever fix whatever Tim’s got going on. Just throw the whole damn guy away. Start over. Your only hope of escaping him is the chance of someone on the outside realizing what’s up. Here’s to hoping Tim gets institutionalized before he does something really bad!!

[livesworthlivingau]

Memory of a Kiss

The first of a series I'm calling 'Memories Of' which show a moment from Siffrin's original 30 years post game. Though as you can see here, they won't all be from his POV~

CW: Suicide, Blood, Strangling.

|It's been 2 months since everything went down back at the house of change, and Sif had been a lot more emotionally stable as of late. You've been wanting to give them space and not pester them about your feelings for them, but now they're starting to show signs of expecting it. Still, you want to make sure it's something special, so you've been planning a special date to finally begin your relationship together.|

"Alright everyone, wish me luck!" |You say with a light blush before everyone cheers you out the door of Bonnie and Nille's place. With a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a wrapped up, fresh pain au chocolat from Bonnie in the other, you set out to the docks where Sif said they'd be hanging out today.|

|Finally, you spot their familiar darkless cloaked and hatted form laying down at the end of the dock.|

"Sif! Siffrin!" |You call out eagerly, but they don't move. They must have taken a nap by the sea, just like them to pass out in the strangest of places... but despite the reasonable explanation, you can't help but get a sinking feeling deep in your gut...|

"He's fine, totally fine, just napping." |You beg, plead, pray calmly tell yourself, walking up closer and kneeling behind them, laying on their side. You lightly grab his shoulder and give it a little shake.|

"Hey, Siffy, Siffarooni, wake u-" |Their form falls towards you onto his back, limp and lifeless, lightless fluid soaking into a large pool in front of them from their carved wrists... Your heart stops, your body freezes, you just stare in absolute horror, taking in the soft, relieved smile on their face.|

"S... Sif..." |You whisper out, as if a wish to the universe, to take it back, to reveal it's fake, to loop back so you could stop this. You slowly pull his cold corpse close to your body, hugging it as tight as you could, lightly rocking back and forth as your brain won't let you fully process what you've seen.|

"It's okay Sif... I'm here... I won't let go..." |You whisper as tears silently flow down your face. You continue rocking back and forth, holding them tight as their blood soaks into your clothing.|

"... Isaa..." |Your eyes widen as you hear their raspy voice, quickly pulling them back to look at their face|

"SIF?!" |Their still limp form dangles in front of you for a moment, before it suddenly lunges to life, grabbing your throat. His eye is pure darkless and empty, staring into your very soul.|

"Why weren't you strong enough?... Why couldn't you help me?..." |You choke out a gasp, gripping at his arms and trying to pry them off of you, but it was no use. He continued to squeeze your neck tighter and tighter, his lifeless expression turning to that of anger.|

"WHY COULDN'T YOU HELP ME?!" |He shouts, clenching even tighter. Just before you'd feel a snap, you suddenly jolt awake, sitting up instantly in bed and gripping at your throat. You pant out heavily, slowly coming to your senses as you realize you're still in bed, it was just a horrid nightmare...|

"Sif... Sif, you awake?" |You ask to your side, reaching a hand over, only to find the bed empty... You try to stop yourself from panicking. You try to take a few deep breaths like Sif does... You... You... You have to find him!|

"SIFFRIN!!" |You shout as you practically faceplant from how frantically you rushed out of bed. You dart for the door and yank it out, quickly rushing through the house for the front door, you have to find him, you have to find him before it happens, you have to find him now!!|

"Isa?!" |You skid to a stop just before the door, looking to your right to see Sif and Nille sitting at the kitchen table, having a cup of Coffee together. You quickly shift your face to a bright, eager smile as you realize what's going on.|

"Sif! Couldn't sleep, huh?" |You ask casually, nervous drops of sweat trickling down your face. Nille gives a slight snort at that.|

"Smooth, big guy~." |She teases before sipping at her coffee.|

"... I'm sorry, Isa, I just couldn't sleep well, I didn't mean to worry you." |They tug their hat down a bit, trying to hide under it like usual. You really stepped in it this time.|

"No, Sif, you didn't do anything wrong, I just... I had a bad dream is all, made me worry about you, it's stupid." |You try to lighten the mood, though your freak out a moment ago made it pretty obvious you're lying.|

"I'll give you two some alone time." |Nille says, getting up from the table and leaving her seat open for you. She pats your shoulder as she walks past and whispers.| "You got this Za~."

|You sit down with a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of your head.| "You sure you're doing okay, Sif? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I-I know! I am! Much better at least... I just... You haven't really talked about 'us' in a while, a-and I was getting worried that you might not feel the same anymore... I was talking to Nille about it and she said you were planning something really big and special..." |You carefully study their face to see how they feel about that, and they seem... disappointed?|

"Is that... bad?"

"N-No! Not... exactly? I just... I don't need anything fancy like that." |They put their hand on the table, inviting you to take it, which you quickly do in a snug yet careful grasp.| "I just need you..."

"R-Really?" |You start to feel your own face heating up quite a bit.|

"Of course... D-Do you remember... what we talked about? A-At the top of the house?..." |You remember talking about a lot of stuff up there, but once they make that familiar face, you know exactly what they're referring to.|

"I remember there being mention of practicing a certain activity... If that's what you might be referring to!" |They give a little nod in response. He slowly gets out of his chair to walk closer, standing nervously beside you and waiting. You take the hint and gently take him into your lap.|

|He closes his eye, and you close yours, leaning in close to press your lips to his. The warmth of your bodies pressed together, the little spark in your heart, the light parting of your lips. The moment was absolutely perfect, just as you wished it would be.|

This was actually concocted for a trade with @eldritch-araneae who specifically requested that sweet, sweet Isa angst~ I sure how I did it justice! Hope y'all enjoyed~!

[nourangul]

Missed Connections

It's my first attempt at anything x reader, but thanks to a few notes from @darktrashsoulbear I think I've gotten it. I hope so at least. Comments are always welcome. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Now to enjoy another Ewan Mitchell x Reader oneshot!

————————————————

It had been a last minute thing, Ewan had fully intended just to hole up in his hotel room for the night and rest with a book he was attempting to read.  He’d read the same page a few times when a friend on the crew called him–inviting him out to a local show.  At first, he’d been teetering on no, but had asked what kind of show–something metal.  Matt’s girlfriend knew the band, had even helped get them sorted out with a small label that wouldn’t take them for all they were worth and then some.

What the hell

He’d thought, he’d go and enjoy the evening.  More than anything, he wanted an outlet–to do something fun that made his stress melt away.  What better way than to go a little mad in the pit?

——

No matter the city or even the country, clubs were all the same: strobe lights thumping along with the bass of varying degrees of quality, shouted conversations to and from everyone and no one, the smell of spilled and shake liquor on top of a hundred perfumes and colognes with a base layer of sweat, the clank of ice and glass as overworked bartenders kept up with the ebb and flow of humanity in search of social lubricant. 

It was sensory hell before trying to get through the crowd and Ewan had been firmly left at their chosen table while he nursed a drink and watched his friends “dance”. It had at least started as dancing and now it was a scant step up from grinding. Now he was looking at anything else to avoid an accidental eye fucking he’d never recover from. Everyone was a stranger here and he wasn’t prepared for that, not tonight at least. 

Drink in hand, he headed outside to save some of his hearing and to have a smoke. A nasty habit, sure, but one he had no intention of quitting…

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

After a thorough pat down of every spare pocket he had, Ewan realized he’d left his pack of smokes god only knew where. 

“Ewan? It’s Ewan, right?”

A woman had come up to him and for a long moment, he didn’t recognize her. Was she a fan or…

“Yes… Wait, I know you–from the flight to Heathrow?”

“I thought this was you! Your hair looks good!”

He’d been dark blond the last time she saw him, not the bleached blond he’d chosen for the premier of the second season. He’d run a hand through his hair out of habit, a little smile at receiving a compliment from a pretty girl. 

And god she was pretty with that big smile of hers. She looked intimidating, but that could just be the nerves… Oh god, but that smile… fuck, she could light up all of London. 

A hug was offered and accepted, they’d become fast friends on a red eye from New York to London. Yet he hadn’t ever expected to see her again when she sprinted away to make a connecting flight to Helsinki. Fate was funny that way, it seemed. 

Their conversation was about everything and nothing. Sharing a pack of cigarettes he later learned was from Finland. She’d come back to London to do press for a new ep. Just like he had just finished his own press tour. 

Over shared experience, one drink turned into two, then three. His phone buzzed occasionally—Matt had been an unexpected friend and he was grateful. Tom was an even better friend and both liked to check on him from time to time. Especially Matt in this case. He and his girlfriend had invited him out. The least they could do was check on him. 

“You have good friends, they like to check on you. Nice for a night out in a loud club.”

“I do, it’s a gift.”

“Any of them here? I can release you if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I came with a mate and his girl, they’re about to call it a night.”

“And what about you?”

“Haven’t decided yet. The company is good.”

“Hmm…” She played with one of the pendants she wore. “I could eat. Wanna get out of here and find some food?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

——

Which led them to perhaps the seediest kebab shop he’d ever seen, but it was open all night. 

It was the sort of place Matt’s girlfriend had called “a greasy spoon”. It fit: the tables were a little sticky, napkins were thin, the plates were almost as thin, but it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. Something about the beer, tobacco, and the company. 

It would be a warm memory, he knew it already. Knew it when he brought her back to his hotel only for them to both fall asleep at the beginning of some 2000s horror movie.

A perfect surprise. 

A perfect night. 

[imbecominggayer]

Writing Advice: How To Condense Your Story Down

From @melda0m3 we have: I'm wondering, how do you fit everything important in fours episodes of 5 minutes? (Yeah... Maybe I'll change it to more if I can't find my answer). I plan on making it really like a series, but without the visual aspect, so no narrator describing anything, just dialogues

Personally, I have no experience with podcasts or recording whatsoever but I do know a little bit about formatting and scripting so that's what I'm going to do!

A) Script Out What Needs To Happen

Grab a computer or a piece of paper and write down everything that needs to happen in this chapter.

In general:

In the first few chapter, it's all about establishing the status quo. What are the relationships like? What are their beliefs?

Then the next middle chapters are about the status quo changing. New lines in the sand are forming. People are going new places. New. New New.

The final chapters are about the conclusion and reflection. Thinking about what happened. How it happened and giving the reader a taste of what the future may bring.

It's incredibly important to have an idea of what the purpose of the chapter is because otherwise the plot tends to either be too slow or too quick. Scripting can serve as a check-in to see if all the actions are flowing in a logical and straight-forward way. The scripting can also create a chronological schedule for not only what needs to happen but also when it happens!

It doesn't have to be detailed. For an example of a cursory guide:

Chapter 9:

Haun reveals how they aren't the chosen one to the King

This causes his adoptive father to banish Haun from the castle for the time being until this mess can be sorted.

Haun's banishment incentivizes Niko to use this opportunity to sneak into the previously hidden room while the King is distracted

There! Short, sweet, and with a logical flow!

B) Write It Out And Chop It Down

The first draft is the indulgence draft. it's the draft where you plop your consciousness out onto the page and see what gets created.

Then you can use the subsequent drafts to cut it all down.

Example A: The house was utterly decadent and large with cracks running up and down everything since it used to be abandoned a couple of years ago. Every single step inside the house rings out a creak and every single glass from the window lost it's sheen. It's just so strange that a house as rich as this one as built in the woods though. I can't believe I used to live here when I was a child.

Example B: The forgotten mansion stood proudly in the forest like an aging warrior holding onto the glory days. Vines caressed each column with a motherly touch. It's almost like it's judging me for having dared left such a beautiful place to wither away.

The problem with the first paragraph, in my opinion, is the obnoxious repitition of how abandoned and decadent the house looks. It doesn't provide additional detail. It just reiterates the fact that there are creaks in the house and thing are dirty. I also dislike the non-sequiter revealing how this used to be the narrator's house when the description doesn't fit a nostalgic or childhood vibe at all!

The first sentence of Example B paints the fact that the mansion is forgotten and large in one simple sentence while Example A takes two uninteresting sentences to do it. Example B uses (or tries to use) nostalgic language to talk about the home so that the reveal the narrator used to live here doesn't come as a shock

C) Dialogue

Dialogue is the most important thing in this project so we have to get it right!

Every single piece of dialogue needs to communicate:

Knowledge (what a character knows)

Personality (how a character acts)

Emotion (how they feel about what they are saying)

Intention (what they are trying to say)

There almost always tends to be a secret 5th element

Secrecy (what they're trying to hide)

This is the case during jokes, love confessions, exposition, and everything!

That scripting thing I was mentioning? Pull that out now! You need to establish the setting? Have a character do it through some dialogue!

"All I can do now is pray Mrs. Jackson forgot about the test!"

This little sentence reveals:

Setting: At or about to go to school

Character A knows there is a test today and they haven't studied

Character A is definitely not studious and probably a bit careless

Character A is nervous about the test

Character A is trying to communicate how they forgot the test

You can also use another character's dialogue to do all of this while still communicating something about another type of character!

For example, Character A could have said:

"I just fucking hope little pet Micheal doesn't remind Mrs. Jackson we have a test today."

This not only establishes the dread and personality of A, it also establishes how Micheal is a teacher's pet and how Mrs. Jackson has a bit of a forgetful streak if this is a reoccuring event.

The dialogue also serves to establish relationships and motivations for why those relationships happen! A is a careless student who resents Micheal for his dedication to school and being a moral little stickler for rules while Micheal has respect for the teacher since they share similar values about education.

D) Inspiration

Since I have no expertise with this subject, I recommend doing the tried and true method.

Find people who use idolize that do this, analyze their structure, and apply it to your own work.

[bellabrady]

Since you're bored 😆...

How do u think this season of 9-1-1 is gonna end? U can list out ur predictions if u have any.

Love ur blog btw!

honestly i might be weird for this but i never realy have predictions for how a show/season will end because i used to be a bellarke shipper and if that mess taught me anything it's that you can't always trust the narrative because sometimes showrunners just suck and it traumatized me so much that now i don't even try to make predictions because i know i'll just be disappointed with whatever the hell the writers come up with 💀

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[luck-of-the-drawings]

I LOOOVE LOVE ALL THE NPCS IN PRIME DEFENDERS!! THEYRE EACH SO UNIQUE AND COOL, WITH THE GREATEST THING YOU CAN POSSIBLY GIVE TO SUPER HEROS IN A SUPER HERO UNIVERSE: WAAACKY FUCKIN SUPER POWERS!! (MADE WITH ONLY PEN AND COLORED PENCILES, MISTAKES CORRECTED WITH PAPER N GLUE)

[sskk-manifesto]

:/

[maxellminidisc]

I really do wonder where this idk more lax attitude about misogyny and patriarchy started happening? Not to say that people haven't been pretty lax about it as it is but it just feels like people are even less willing to call something misogyny or a symptom of patriarchy despite the slight progress I saw in at least leftist or more progressive spaces to do so. I have my theories but it feels like one big ol tangled web of reasons that's hard to make sense of.