#sometimes its easier to hurt myself in ways that make other people think good of me

[zsupika]

Would you mind sharing your thoughts For Love and Deepspace Boys, specifically what they need in their girls, their type? Thank you.

Love and deepspace boys' types

> my (oddly specific) thoughts on what the lnd boys' types would be

A/N: i really like this idea, so thank you for your request! Please, whoever reads this, don't take offense if my opinion doesn't suit you to your favorite, these are all just for fun <3 also these are longer than I expected lol so take these types lightly and let me know your thoughts in the comments and/or request more stuff like that! (also I didn't proofread so excuse any additional mistakes lol it's late and right now I can't bring myself to ×~×)

Xavier

Xavier would like someone who cares about him a lot

For example if he were to come home from a long mission, seeing you jump up from excitement from seeing him again, would make him melt

And when he gets hurt and you immediately come to him with a worried face, he'd adore you so much

I feel like he'd appreciate someone who's kinda quieter like he is

He likes moments were you just lay on the sofa and cuddle with each other without saying anything

It helps him relax and makes you two feel much closer

Words can't really convey how he feels about you so he prefers to show you by his actions, kinds similar to Zayne but I do think he'd make more of an effort to say it to you directly than Zayne

He'd like someone who's good with animals

Seeing how you care about them makes him feel soft inside

I also think he's a lot more bold in intimate moments than people might think so he'd like some who knows what they want in that regard

He likes when you tell him directly what you want

He also likes someone who's playfully and gets him flustered

He feels like he can let go and enjoy himself with you in that way

Zayne

He'd like a talker

Someone who talks a lot about how their day was and who asks him questions, making it easier to verbally communicate his feelings

He'd like having someone who understand how he feels without having to say it aloud

Having a partner that accepts that his job as a doctor is hard and his priority would be important for him aswell

He wouldnt neglect your relationship ofc but as a doctor saving people is your priority

So he'd want someone who doesn't take offense in that and understands him in that regard

He wouldn't want someone who's jealous really quickly

Someone who's confident in the relationship and who values trust and loyalty would be right for him

A bonus would be if you give good massages

He just sometimes needs them to relax

He'd appreciate you so much if you do that for him

He would like someone who's independent and takes good care of themself

I think he'd like someone who smells like/uses lavender parfum

Or any floras scent really but lavender helps him relax as well

I don't think he'd have any strong physical preference but I do think he'd appreciate if you take good care of your hands and nails

He would LOVE to look at your nails if you went to a nailsalon or if you painted them yourself

Bonus points if you painted little snowflakes or similar

He'd melt

He would like someone who gets hot easily in the summer so he can cool you down with his evol

It makes him feel strong and kinda protective like he can take care of you in that regard

Rafayel

Rafayel would like someone who's not very sensitive

He likes to make jokes that poke slight fun at you (in a playful way ofc) so he'd appreciate if you don't take them to seriously

Generally he'd love to have someone he can joke with

He'd someone he can playfight with cause its a lot of fun to him and makes him feel closer to you

To him it's really intimate to let someone that close to himself so he loves it if he can do that with you

He'd want someone who can appreciate the small things in life

And someone who appreciates art

Whether it might be looking at street art or going to museums, his heart would melt if you would start to talk about theories about the paintings and their meanings

He loves to see your face when you look at the drawings/paintings or whatever and would point out details that stand out to you

Bonus points if you're an artist yourself

He'd love to spend quiet time with you sketching or observing what you're doing

Physically, he'd like someone with interesting features

Whenever it may be your face, body, style or whatever, he'd like to see someone who stands out

He would want someone who talk with him when he's in the mood to and someone who he can spend quiet time with, without it getting awkward

He would love someone that teases him slightly

He'd pretend he doesn't like it but he actually does

For example if he were to (playfully) ignore you or something, he'd want you go try and talk to him until he gives in and talks again

He wouldnt like it if you just ignored him aswell.. It would bore him and make it seem like you don't care about him

Back to the physical features, I feel like one of his favorite things would be if you had an interesting mole or something like two eyecolors

He'd also like someone who doesn't complain too much

His clothes are pretty much always somehow covered in paint, aswell as his hands and sometimes face

If you were to always complain about that, he wouldn't like that

He'd need someone who laughs about it and helps him clean it up instead of throwing a fit

I think he'd also like someone who'd like to take baths with him

Not necessarily in a sexual way but just in a normal way

Basically you two washing each other, it makes him feel closer to you

He'd like someone who's comfortable with that

I think he'd also like someone who comes behind him to hug him or surprisingly showers him in kisses

It makes him feel appreciated if you'd make the first move

[thewhumpcaretaker]

HENLLOO ✨️💖

I have this idea for some time, and it's something I wanna write one day, BUT I think you'd really like this idea bc it's hurt/comfort and Santino at the beach! I'm curious about your thoughts or if it's inspiring yk 👀

Santino having a wound, that's not fully healed, or not healed at all and he wants to go to the sea to feel that salt kinda "bite" his wound, he wants to feel that pain because he thinks he deserves it or whatever other reason.

John tried to talk him out of it just because he knew it would hurt, but then again, sea water could help the wound heal faster. So, John insists for Santino's own safety that he goes with him. And eventually Santino agrees. Of course it hurt and burned, it's salt on the wound and Santino maybe thought it would be easier but it hurt a lot.

Santino wants to make himself suffer even more 😞

AAAAAAAA this one cut DEEP for me!! Your asks are so good lately (well, always, but especially this one). It's so dark but honestly this is a topic that I love to write about and I think it says a lot about Santino and what he's going through. What a brutal scenario, Santino is really suffering. But John is there to make sure he's safe and build up his self-esteem, as always.

Also, as a note: the ocean is not recommended as a source of salt water to put on a wound even if it does help sometimes, because there's bacteria in the ocean! So don't try this at home.

🖤💙Salt in the Wound💙🖤

TW: self harm via salt water, attempted self harm via breaking and punching things, blaming himself for abuse, concerns over potential suicidal behavior (there is none actually attempted), Dead Dove Do Not Eat

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“I am not leaving you alone like this!”

The bedroom was wrecked in every way that wouldn’t be permanent. Pillows and blankets thrown around the room, the desk overturned, even the curtains torn down. John had stepped in to stop Santino from tearing up his own poetry, but he’d let him flip the chair and splinter its legs against the floor. And why was all of this happening? Because Santino had been punished by a High Table emissary. The Adjudicator and company had approached them in the middle of the Continental lobby, informed Santino that he had broken some inscrutable rule John didn’t even know about, and then slashed him across the gut in front of the whole room of people.

After the wound was patched up he had just sort of…gone quiet. It was obvious he blamed himself. He brooded all the rest of the day, until finally John pressed him about what was wrong and he exploded.

“Fuck off, John! Get your hands off of me!” He had Santino’s arms pinned behind his back so he wouldn’t punch the walls. Reluctantly, he let go, and just as he’d expected, Santino lunged towards the wall. John was too fast and put himself in front of Santino’s fist before he could make contact. Santino stopped short, flushing even harder at the frustration of having to restrain himself in that state.

“Get out of my way.”

“No.”

Santino stared at him for a long moment, his jaw set hatefully. Then he turned to walk out.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Through clenched teeth, “The beach.”

Their home was only a short walk from the ocean, and in this mood, Santino could make it there in five minutes. Horrifying scenarios flashed through John’s mind, of Santino walking out into the ocean and never coming back. His heart did a sickening sort of drop. “Why?”

Santino whirled back to him with his chin in the air, the picture of passive aggression and mock innocence. “Salt water is good for healing wounds. You want me to take care of myself so badly? Fine. Maybe I want to go for a swim.”

“That will burn like hell.”

“GOOD. But it’s healthy, so you can’t stop me.”

John practically growled in frustration. He couldn’t argue with that. He just grabbed his coat. “I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not invited.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

Santino’s scowl softened for a fraction of a second, replaced by something miserable and touched. But then he just growled back, grabbed his swim trunks, and marched out the door without another word.

They were silent on the walk to the beach, with the sun sinking down against the waves in reds and oranges as fiery as Santino’s expression. John began to hope that he’d cool down by the time they got there, but he had no such luck. Santino stripped down immediately and threw his clothes in John’s face. He would have laughed at the pettiness of it if he didn’t know how much pain was raging inside of Santino right now. So he just caught them and folded them neatly over his arm so they wouldn’t get covered with sand. Then he crossed his arms and watched from the edge of the water.

With his shirt off, and then his dressing thrown to the ground as well, John could see the red blooming across the slash on Santino’s side. The wound wasn’t deep at all, but it looked awful. It was long – an arc from the top of his ribcage on the right side to below the navel on the left. And it was still bleeding.

Santino took a first step into the water and already flinched. The evening wind was picking up and it was ice cold. “Maybe you should do this tomorrow,” John suggested. “Like noon? When it’s warmer?”

The very idea of sparing himself any pain seemed to just make Santino even more furious. He only turned back long enough to glare at John and then suddenly dashed forward, until the waves were up to his stomach.

Based on the sound he made, it couldn’t have felt good. It was a kind of yelping scream that he bit off with a long stream of swearing in Italian. John frowned hard. He knew what that felt like – he’d been in the ocean after a job before, by necessity, and it stung something awful. But all he could do was watch helplessly. At least Santino was standing still now, and seemed to be reconsidering. He even took a few steps back until the cut was mostly above the water line again.

But irritation with his own weakness seemed to give him a second wind. He plunged back in, up to his chest this time, and screamed again. This time, John couldn’t tell if it was pain or frustration or self-hatred, because it gave out into sobbing. He was crying so badly that John was worried he was going to double over into the waves. “That’s enough. I’m coming out.” He kicked off his shoes and trousers, set down their things, and waded into the frigid water.

He wasn’t sure if Santino heard him or not, because he didn’t move at all until John’s arms were around him.

“Come on, love. Let’s go back to shore, yeah?”

“No. I-I deserve this.” Santino didn’t hug him back. He just stood there shivering terribly.

“Why?”

“Because I fucked up! They had to punish me. And I’m so angry, John. I’m so angry, and there’s nothing I can do. I can’t even be angry at them. I just have to play nice because I’m powerless and it’s all my fault.”

“No you don’t. You’re allowed to hate them. You don’t have to hate yourself.” He realized they weren’t just talking about The Adjudicator, but about everyone who had hurt Santino. Especially those who he didn’t couldn’t bring himself to hate. His own father. The water swirling around their bodies was deathly cold and John felt himself starting to shake too, but he ignored it and held Santino as close as he could.

For a second, Santino cried harder against him, but it seemed to bring some kind of cathartic release. Finally, he went calm and hugged John back. He seemed drained. “Okay. This hurts too fucking much anyway. Cazzo, I didn’t expect it to be this bad.” His heart was still racing against John’s chest, probably from sheer pain.

“Yeah…I’m not surprised. Let’s go get the salt out, I brought stuff to take care of it so it doesn't hurt as much on the walk home.”

So Santino allowed himself to be led back to shore. John wrapped him in a towel and poured a fresh water bottle over the cut to rinse it. That stung too, and he was already back to whining about the pain, but John didn’t mind. As long as Santino didn’t want to make himself suffer. He kissed him hard. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He melted into the kiss and stayed curled up against his lover, trying to regain some body heat, but he couldn’t bring himself to reply.

“You didn’t, Santino. They did this to you because they’re on a power trip. Because the whole organization runs by making people feel trapped and small, and it pisses me off.”

His answer was slow and very quiet. “Honestly…I don’t want that to be true. If that’s true, then I have to do something about it.”

“Yeah.” John wove his fingers through Santino’s curls and studied his face. He was so precious, so fierce, so full of life. A world in which a person like Santino could be hurt over and over again until he wanted to hurt himself too wasn’t one that John could stand for. “We have to do something about it.”

[sexyandcringe]

Hopeless romantic

Part 3 ◇ Part 4

Warnings: cheating (not by reader or osamu), mommy issues and generally parents issues. Reader thinks she is unlovable (she just like me fr.)

Content: osamu x reader, Angst to fluff, hurt/comfort.

A/n: This is the end y'all! I wanted to make it longer but i know myself and i would just leave it unfinished at some point, so i thought this might be a good "ending", but good news! I'll still write some drabbles and snippets about yn and osamu's lives in this AU! like their first times and shit. idk, i'll see. I'm sorry if this disappoints you, I don't care.

Osamu thinks that everything in your house screams of you.

It’s not his first time in your home, but the vibrant hues and light shades remind him of your joyful personality; the white marble floor completes the water green and pink of your walls. Some canvases are hanging in the living room and a knowing smile forms on his lips as he recognizes your touch in a few of them. The colours and the delicate strokes all bear your signature, a reflection of everything that is you.

He wanders his eyes around, noticing details he didn’t notice in the past and taking in everything he can.

“Pasta with yogurt is delicious.”

Osamu looks horrified at your statement. He thought you were perfect in all shapes and forms, never had he ever expected you to come up with such a daring, unacceptable, banned-from-his-restaurant-worthy comment.

“This is it. I’m leaving.” he declares, rising abruptly from the table, as if ready to sever all hia ties with you and your questionable taste in food.

Your laughter fills the room before you grab his arms and your hand grips his shoulder, “I’m just joking!! Please!” you plead.

“No, you are not.”

Resigned, you raise your hands in surrender, “Okay, I’m not. but it’s actually good! You can’t judge anything until you try it!”

He only scoffs and sinks back into his seat, his attention on the Zucchini Lasagna with Zucchini “Ricotta” that you both made together. It was easier than you expected, and despite your protests, Osamu refused your assistance in any way,  insisting that you simply observe and learn.

The way his hands work in the kitchen left you in awe, and also a little flustered. Who wouldn’t be after seeing those healthy, strong arms of his being put to work?

The final strike was his calm, soft voice, effortlessly explaining everything you didn’t know without making you feel foolish. His tone was void of any patronization and he remained kind and understanding even when you asked questions that might seem obvious to others in the culinary world.

When the result of your (his) hard work was ready, it was late enough that you asked him to stay and dine with you, not wanting to let go of him yet.

(You never want to let go of him.)

“I don’t need to try it to understand that it will taste awful.”

“Never judge a book by its cover, Miya.” you retort playfully, adopting the guise of a wise sage.

Though he doesn't voice it, Osamu hates being called Miya by you.

“You know what- leave it,” he grumbles. His scrunched-up face from the irritation he felt earlier relaxes when he takes a big bite of his dinner and you can’t stop the grin that makes its way onto your lips. Such a goofball he is.

Both of you finish your plates in silence and silence has never been so comfortable, if not with him.

In the past, you always felt like a fish out of water, you knew you were different but not the “cool and edgy” kind, no, you were just straight-up weird, and you believed that most of your friendships and relationships with others did not work out because of this.

Over time, you worked on yourself, learnt to talk to people in socially acceptable manners, and learnt to keep your mouth shut when you had to; Sometimes, your thoughts still race ahead of your words, leaving you dizzy, but you’ve made progress. You’re doing much better now than your younger self, and that is enough.

Osamu never makes you feel different.

He has always been kind and understanding, even on days when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Even that day, when you were just a stranger soaked with rain, seeking shelter and comfort in his shop.

It was a cloudy day and you were exhausted from work. Darkness dwelled in the sky when your world shattered again.

It was late evening when your parents called, and of course, it ended up in a fight with no end.

You hated it.

You missed them, every once in a while, but you couldn’t stand being around them. 

You always had a tricky relationship with your mother, a paradox where you wished her well while hurting her because she hurt you. You loved her and cared for her while wanting to run away from her and never see her again. 

(maybe you only loved the mother you hoped she would be.)

To make matters worse, your boyfriend wasn’t answering his phone. You needed him - needed his hugs and kisses and a silly movie to escape reality.

And when he didn’t reply to yet another call, you decided to go to his house in hopes of finding him, but when you got to the main gate of his building, your heart stopped.

You had your fair share of heartbreaks, but at the age of 24,  you weren’t one to play around with idiots who can’t have a stable and serious relationship. Your boyfriend seemed perfect initially, he was everything you thought you couldn’t find and the first two months were like a dream. Then, the reality slapped you hard and you saw the imperfections in your relationship: he never called, never let you see his phone (not like you ever asked, privacy is important to you, but when he takes away his phone even just to go to the bathroom, or when he snatches his phone from you when you use just to make some silly selfies, it makes you feel like he might be exaggerating a tad bit.), and most of all, he didn’t want you to meet his friends yet. 

You thought he might be just shy, maybe his friends weren’t your type of people, maybe he had been discussing a surprise for you so that’s why he wouldn’t let you see his phone. You found justification in everything because really, you liked him. 

Maybe that’s why when you saw your boyfriend of 8 months making out with the barista “you didn’t need to worry about.”, you felt like hundreds of thousands of needles were ripping your skin apart and just then, as if the clouds could feel your pain, they started to mourn, pouring heavy rain on your head, screaming at the top of their lungs and letting all their suffering pour down as if taking revenge of everything the humans have done to Earth.

At first, you felt numb, a numbness that comes from not believing what you are seeing, then started the loud thumping of your heart, making your bones tremble in despair, and your breathing became unbalanced, stuttering through your mouth; and worst of all, you were in the middle of the streets and the rain was growing faster and louder.

(but nothing was louder than the scream you let out inside your head.)

With heavy and slow steps, you walked away, oblivious to the water dripping down your temples, feeling utterly lost.

You didn’t know where to go. Your house was just a hellhole of everything that would remind you of him. You wanted to run away, and that’s what you did.

You ran until your lungs burned, until your legs ached, and the rain drenched you completely.

You were hungry and thirsty and cold and heartbroken and so fucking lost and-

A light.

A warm, inviting light accompanied by soft hums and melodies gets your attention.

From the tables inside the structure, you suspect it to be a restaurant, or perhaps a fast food, you don’t know. All you knew was that you needed warmth and a seat, so you pushed the doors open.

“Sorry, we are close-” A man looks your way, holding a dirty cloth and detergent. He must have been cleaning. 

Your eyes widen, a little panicked, because you had no idea it was so late and when you look down- 

oh god, you just walked into a closed restaurant, and you are soaked and you dirtied his floor all over again, he is so going to berate you and kick you out-

“Nevermind. Come in.” his voice sounds gentle, kind even; you wonder why he hasn’t screamed at you yet. You just ruined his floor, didn’t you?

He pulls a chair back and waits for you to sit, you oblige in silence, though a little hesitant, “Wait here, I’ll be back.” is all he says before disappearing from your sight.

While you stare at the texture of the tables and tiles, the events of the day come back rushing to your mind, the fight with your parents, the dead cat you found on the streets and your boyfriend cheating on you. Everything was a mess, and you felt so lonely. There was a tight knot in your chest, a heavy weight of unshed tears, and it became heavier with each passing second.

A plate comes into your view with hot rolled spaghetti seasoned with tomato puree and basil and you can’t stop the grumbling of your stomach at the sight of such delicacy.

Your face heats up as you hear a small laugh from the man standing next to you; you opt to hide your embarrassment by eating everything that was laid in front of you. You take a bite of the hot strands, swirling your fork in all the wrong ways (when have you ever done something right?), and the taste fills your mouth, cascading in your stomach and the tight knot between your lungs comes undone, your eyes get blurry and tears start to flow freely down your cheeks.

Fuck, you really did not want to cry now, but you can’t stop it. You sob and hiccup and keep eating all the same, while the cook stands next to you in silence.

The kindness of a stranger and the cruelty of your beloved crashed down on you like a tsunami and all you could do was eat and cry. Miserable, you thought to yourself.

Later, a hand came down your head, a soft pat accompanied by a low, comforting voice, “It’s going to be okay.” it said, and you believed it.

“Yachi was asking about you, y’know. Tsumoto, too. They said they missed your yapping.”

You gasp, feigning a shocked expression. “Hey! It’s called  ‘having a conversation’!”

He snorts, “Sure, if that’s what helps you sleep at night.” Osamu collects the empty plates from the table and helps you clean up the kitchen.

You huff as he dries the dishes you wash, his taunting endless. When you glance at the clock, it’s already around 10 pm, and you wonder if you took too much of his time. Someone like him should never waste his time over someone like you.

“By the way, Aika gifted me two tickets to the opening of the “Fishy and Cheesy Aquarium” near the bridge because she can’t make it.” he says after a while. 

You sputter out your drink, laughing at the ridiculous name.

“What the fuck is that name?!” you try not to snort like an ugly pig in front of him (you fail.) He just shrugs. “Also who’s Aika?”.

“Oh? I thought you met her! Remember the girl with long black hair and green eyes who entered my restaurant a few weeks ago? She’s Rintarou’s sister, but since me and ‘Tsumu have known Rin since we were toddlers, she’s like a sister to us, too.” a fond smile takes place on his lips, a smile that he rarely gives to clients, a smile reserved for family.

All the pieces fall into place in your head, and somehow you feel relief and joy and you curse yourself for feeling that way. You shouldn’t be allowed to feel happy now, but you are, and your heart’s already thumping out of your chest when he says his next words: 

“So, I was saying, since ‘Tsumu is away for two weeks and Rin just hates crowded places with too many kids, would you like to go there with me?”

And of course, you say yes before your brain can even comprehend what he’s asking of you. 

You are quite sure he is just asking you out as friends do, but what can you say? you are a hopeless romantic, after all.

Reblogs are really appreciated!

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @writingsofanomnivore @pressuredtreasure @k4sumis0u

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying I don't give a shit about calorie counts?

Before I even start this, I'm going to say - if you actively have an eating disorder, please don't vote on this one. I used to have one and I know how badly ED screws with your reasoning regarding weight and food, even with other people. Onto the dilemma.

I (22M) and my friend (31F) are both on "diets" - in quotes because its a lifestyle change, but idk about her. I've drastically changed my diet, exercise, and general lifestyle for health reasons.

My friend also wanted to start dieting at the same time, and as far as I know, she just wants to lose weight. She has a healthy weight goal in mind and her methods of losing weight are healthy, basically the same as me - better foods and more exercise. Recently we talked about our goals because we both lost several pounds, and she asked me what my goal weight was. I told her I didn't have one, I might later but right now my only focus is making sure my body is in good health. She seemed to agree and the conversation moved on.

Another thing is, I recently learned that I LOVE to cook. I've been adding more veggies and spices into my diet as well - swapping french fries with marinated air-fried carrots, veggie dumplings, shredding cabbage for noodles, making my own stir fry sauce and blends, etc.

I cook for us sometimes, because I often make more than I need and I want to share my cooking with others. But she keeps asking my how many calories are in stuff. I tell her what's in the recipe and how it's made, but I honestly have no clue how many calories are in anything I make. I can tell her pretty much anything else, like it's rich in whatever vitamin, it's low cholesterol, it's a great source of iron, I used healthier alternative instead of whatever... but that's not the info she's looking for. And since a lot of my cooking is experimental, I can't look it up online. I've never noticed this to be an issue before, but I'm a bit clueless so it's possible she showed signs of being bothered by this and I just didn't notice.

It all came to a head the other day when we had dinner after our usual workout. I was charting the exercises I did that day. She asked me if I was tracking calories for the meal and started talking about her calorie tracker app. I listened to her spiel about empty calories and tracking food. When she asked if I was going to downloaded it, I laughed and said "I don't give two shits about counting calories. As long as the food is good for me I don't care." I said it light-hearted and joking bc I don't want her to think it's bad to count calories - it's just not what I'm going to do. But she got quiet and later texted me that it hurts. I explained that she can count calories if she wants, and I don't care if she does or doesn't, but it's not for me. She doesn't know about my eating disorder history and I'd rather not tell her, since that's another reason I don't count calories - I don't want to fall back on starving myself since I KNOW that's not healthy, so it's easier for me to just exclude calories from the picture entirely. Should I tell her why I don't count calories? Could I have told her that I don't care about calories in a nicer way? AITA?

Also, before anyone suggests it - she does NOT have an eating disorder. Idk why she counts calories, but she shares a lot about her life with me, and she eats plenty and eats well, and doesn't exercise excessively, just enough to stay healthy for what she wants to do.

What are these acronyms?

[nerves-nebula]

bleghhghghhghhhh

the thing is that not only is my website portfolio kitsch and childish (as am i) it is fundamentally not anything that any graphic design bitches are interested in. like any of them, at all, they are Not Down For It. but i made it that way cuz i WANTED it that way. its like.. i mean.. its like ME.

and yet annd yettttt it isnt right. i know it isnt. i dont have any issues with sacrificing my personal taste to get a job cuz i don't do jobs for personal pleasure but when it comes to this portfolio i've sunk so much time into this stupid website design that I can't really tell if anyone but me likes. and i don't know if being earnest will work here cuz designers are judgemental as hell. it's alllll about "that's not how i would have done it"

like. i don't know whats wrong with me. I know what's expected, i know what kind of design i SHOULD be doing, i know that to other people my choices look ugly and inane. and it would have been easier to do it the expected way too! i can only hope I'll be memorable, having such a weirdly sentimental design in a sea of flat crisp minimalist websites. but i don't know why i'm bothering? i'm embarrassed about it. I'm embarrassed to exist as the person i want to be, but i just can't stop myself from doing it. I can really only hope that some day someone sees me and thinks "wow i love whatever the fuck this is."

sometimes the head of the printing center compliments me, or tells someone i'm a very good print monitor and that i'm a great designer too, but he hasn't actually seen much of my work. he certainly hasnt seen my website. he suggested i try to find an internship at this one place, where he knew one of the guys there. i look it up and it's the same kinda graphic design everyone else is doing. i can't imagine why they'd hire someone with the kind of work i've made??

and god don't even get me started on my portfolio. it's fuckin barren because i take every assignment as a chance to explore some dumb shit, and i never come away with anything presentable. or if I do, then i don't document it properly. I've completely lost all physical remains of one of my better editorial layouts because i just didn't fuckin feel like keeping track of it i guess??? and it doesn't really look as good when it's just digital images.

but i also know that its shooting yourself in the foot, not applying to shit in the first place, even if you don't think you'll get in. so i'll still do it. make no mistake, i'm gonna try, it's just going to suck the whole time, and it's gonna hurt too.

[devine-fem]

thinking about how i always try and be bigger and better than everyone else but in way where i try not to bother, vex or get in anyones way but no one gives back that same energy to me or just in general. what happened to being socially conscious? sometimes i think about doing something mean and harsh to someone else to make myself feel better because im human but still decide not to be that person, ill stop myself and think…

“has it gotten this bad?” and then be like “no, it should never get THIS bad” and stop entirely and make the decision to be mindful of my words to someone else… but why should i be the bigger person if that hand isnt dealt to me back…

i guess theres a way of feeling better when you think about the person thats choosing to be mean and hurtful either irl or on the internet (mostly the internet) because you know they arent self aware and arent able to make that same decision; they just go straight to being cruel because theyre bitter and angry and most of all BORED and losing their way and grace about themselves. theres peace in knowing that all of that comes back tenfold because if they can’t pick themselves back up then theyll be their own worst enemy and eventually self destruct but its just such an empty predicament because… who even wins at that point when you pull me down as you spiral yourself? its so… cruel

its always easier to pull someone down than it is to pick yourself back up and then it feels good, it feels sooo good… its sad. i consider myself a good person, im not apart of anything or a general group of persons who hurt others for my own benefit and ive really thought over and over that i have to let go and love and stop holding anger for people who hurt or betray me…

its so hard to think about being at peace with those who hurt you and betray you… its not easy just to smile back and prosper… but ill keep telling myself that over and over

no holding hate in your heart for even those who do nothing but hurt and betray me

[tailsdollr]

your art is really coool! im inspired! do you have any art tips?

Thank you so much and yes I have a bit of knowledge since all the work I have done over the years. However, I understand everyone does things differently. So perhaps not all I will share will benefit you much. Especially if you already knew it BUT I will try give as many I can!

I saw that you mostly do traditional drawing, so I will keep it mainly for that. However I will mention some digital tips but will have them related to traditional in some way.

Pencil types. There are many types of pencils and most depend on darkness or light. I usually have a 0.6 and 0.9 on me. A step further is charcoal however I'm not as experienced in that. Something I often do in case of smearing is lightly dabbing my finger on the art. This can work for many tools but I think a pencil smearing can just be annoying lol. How far you press can be very important too as going to hard can leave lines into the paper that will permanently be there and affect your art in case you wanna erase. I usually go light first then dark then work around. It's okay if it's messy at first if its light as that can be a lot easier to clean.

Paper. Paper is very important to me at least due to how much it can vary. For certain tools, I'd prefer certain types of paper. Always check texture and thickness before buying. Don't just buy random sketchbooks. I've regretted many times of getting paper far too thin or way too much texture.

Texture and thickness all depend on what you'll use on it. Thicker paper can handle wet bases like water, paint, or markers. While thinner paper is much better for pencil. As the more texture the more difficult it becomes to not make a mess of extra that might smear if you're not careful.

If you have thin paper and are using markers, make sure you know when is too much for the paper. It could tear or eat a hole in it if not careful. I don't think it depends on art supplies either. I just think it depends on skill and paper. Like, I would not use Crayola markers on printer paper. But I would on card stock since it's more likely to handle it. Speaking of card stock, it can be really good for just sketching. However I don't think it takes pencil very well depending on it's texture. Since most are usually kind of glossy on top.

Thin paper can also be great if you want to transfer a drawing over. Imagine a digital sketch that you draw over. Thin paper can be used in the same way so I'd never fear messing up when you can easily get it onto something else and start over. This applies to tracing it in digital.

Speaking of tracing, I would not be afraid of using it as a learning tool. I've used references but sometimes I cannot see exactly how to draw that. So I trace and see what it looks like on its own. I don't think using something traced in your final piece is practical or good. But I think learning and guiding yourself with it is an excellent thing and I want more young artists not to be afraid of it.

Poses and certain features can be quite difficult for some. I think the best way to build up on these is to break them down. Like making the person who is doing the pose into very simple shapes.

This like all off the top of my head. If you want to ask something specific like, painting for example, feel free and go ahead! Or need further elaboration I can certainly try!

My biggest art tip of all tho, is to have fun. Draw whatever you want. Make yourself feel happy and don't let others dictate what you do.

I think cringe culture really hurt a lot of learning and growing artists. People who just inserted themselves into stories, made strange aus. They all were just having fun. I let myself not show that I loved things just for others comfort and you know what fuck them!! So what if evil teletubbies is weird?? Why are you upset that I'm having fun!

Love what you love. Draw weird and strange things and never give up on yourself when you feel disappointed.

You will get there with your art. You will if you feel love and passion for the craft.

[notalostcausejustyet]

A pull from my deck, because visual interest.

This one is for both @adverbian and @voluptatiscausa because good lord do y’all really get me to put what I learned in therapy through its paces lol. In the best ways possible of course! Saturday morning coffee thoughts.

Let’s talk about online spaces, finding community, and productive ways of working through things.

The internet is vast. The cosmos, but in digital form. It is also, so very, very small. We somehow took the inimitable and unquantifiable collection of humanity’s existence, stirred in some programming, and created community. Through art and storytelling and the sharing of self, we find people from all over the world and can say “oh, there you are”. We find shared experiences and new perspectives. Dovetailing interests and wonderful new knowledge. There’s so much talent out there. So much brilliance. We gather around our digital cafe table and share peices of ourselves. Commiseration, absolution, acceptance. We get to look at another human being and tell them “I see you”. We get to be seen in return. The load is lighter, and healing is easier when the work is shared. The act of extending grace and acceptance towards others makes it easier to do so for yourself in the end.

For me that looks like writing, spending time in that online space with other writers, finding inspiration their work, or them finding inspiration in mine. It’s an intimate and vulnerable thing. You take a piece of yourself and reframe it around a story, a piece of poetry, some meta-analysis of another work. You hold it out and hope that someone sees an echo of their own experience. It’s cathartic and healthy and you’re constantly learning new things about yourself and other people. Sometimes it hurts, because it’s a wound that hasn’t healed yet and admitting it to yourself, showing that to others is frightening. But you can’t heal in the dark. So you write about it, and turn on the light.

This is a lot of deep thought for Saturday morning coffee, but I’m incredibly grateful for the online community I’ve found in the past few months. I’m thankful that I can still write, that I am writing again. I’m still astounded that writers that I admire tremendously think so highly of it. More than that though, in offering of myself to others, I’m finding healing for myself. It’s one day at a time and the work of growth and knowing and finding healing will never be done. And that’s ok, it’s as it should be. One step at a time, into the sunlight.

[bethanysmiled]

saw your oc lore post.... my time to shine >:3

the big 4! little moon, cupid, permanent hole, and fortune!! what the heck are those sillies!!! do they know each other?

oh my gosh dsfsdfI'm flattered you'd ask hehI'll write in the undercut and try to keep it short.

Before all this tho, I think it's important to understand that my ocs and the world they inhabit dont need to make sense logically. Think of it as a children's book. Roald Dahl's books, for instance, or something like 'The Chocolate Touch' etc All in all, my ocs dont make logical sense. They live in a world where stuff just IS.

So! Fortune and Cupid do know one another, and Fortune loves Cupid very much. If you've ever seen a kid just fawn over an actor (like I did when I was a kid over Leonardo DiCaprio) that's the vibe. Cupid lives in a well, and Fortune visits often to throw in a coin to see him. He's generally nice to her, but a little confused and just rolls with it like 'ok this little dog wants to run around my well and look at me for a few minutes. That's fine.' Fortune on her own is a little wandering dog. She was born from a sentient "blood" puddle, perhaps a puppy fell in and was blessed with sentience as well. Fortune remembers her first moments of life, but has lost her way back to the puddle. She longs to see it again, and she wanders to find it. She may "tell your fortune" if you happen to meet her, however, it may or may not be a reliable reading. Her strongest and most accurate predictions are usually bad omens or looming tragedy. If you're in danger, Fortune will certainly tell you. I draw her in many ways that don't relate to her lore, of course. She is fun to explore with, and often ends up expressing many of my emotions etc! ( People ask me often if the puddle is a SCP inspired thing, but its inspired by the birth of Lurtz in LoTR and Shadowmere who is born from a tar pit lol) Cupid on his own IS a bad omen, perhaps why Fortune is so aware of him, whereas others only glimpse him before disaster strikes. Cupid is not evil, nor is he good. He is indifferent, guided by a nature one cannot relate to. If you see him, you are likely at the finale of your life. If you're lucky enough, Fortune may help you avoid your terrible fate by guiding you to Cupid's well. If you throw down a few coins or something of value, Cupid will spare you by not appearing to you at all, therefore successfully evading your disastrous end. Permanent Hole is more symbolic than Fortune and Cupid. He represents being at your absolute worse. He represents that constant drag that threatens to bring you into the darkest pit of yourself, thats why he is a 'cat' living in a hole. You could be grabbed at any moment, or simply fall in. He will try his hardest to tempt you to come his way because it feels easier to be in a dark hole and let yourself go. He knows you personally, and you him. He remembers you, he will try to bring you back to that hole again. But never fear, his arms can only reach so far and you can avoid him if you can find it in yourself to walk right by. Ideally, someday you can fill that hole and bury him forever. Little Moon is also more symbolic I guess. He brings back your fondest memories, though they can hurt sometimes. You might try to let a memory go, because it has been broken, but he will bring them back to you in dreams and thoughts you have quietly before bed. He can only come to you during the full moon, he crosses the sky for you and slips into you. He can feel what you feel, he knows what you love and what you need to keep. He won't let you forget. (Cats have always been something I relate myself to idk why) Anyway, thank you for asking :~) I hope you like them!

[shootingstarrfish]

Yay, you finally reblogged it!! <33

Might as more some other time, we'll seeeeeee

⸺ RELATIONSHIPS & PERSONALITY ⸺

02: On a scale of 1 to 10, how annoying are they to Lucifer? :) Had to hehe <3 017: What is a side of themself they don't want other to see? When does that side reveal itself?

⸺ CONCEPT AND DESIGN ⸺

08: Anything you heavily associate with them? A color, a word, a picture, or something else? 10: How about some angst headcanons? >:)

⸺ HUMAN ⸺

01: How old are they? no ulterior motive behind asling this one nuh-uh

YAYYY THANK YOU MELLLL

02:

100000 lucifer is so sick of this bitch send tweet

017:

OOH BOY he tends to come off pretty carefree, and sometimes mayyybe a lil bit shallow? but he tends to contemplate things very deeply, which he sees as a flaw since it makes him overly emotional about things that other people perceive as small so it's not a part of himself he really enjoys sharing

that side kinda just reveals itself normally anyway, he's not exactly great at hiding it, but a part of why he gets along with Belphie so well is that he feels more comfortable willingly sharing this side of himself since Belphie gets it

who else are you suddenly gonna ask "do you ever think about what death is like" and immediately be met with an understanding "yeah"

08:

this is really silly but when a person's jacket falls off their shoulder... it always makes me think about him he is like the brothers, incapable of wearing a jacket properly

10:

it's definitely not unique to say that post lesson 16 was his lowest point, yes because of *gestures at everything that happened* but it was made worse by his interaction with asmo before shit really hit the fan asmo genuinely appreciates the fact that sidra doesnt really care about his appearance or popularity and what he values is who asmo actually is, so the second he believes that their entire relationship existed so sidra could get to belphie, he's absolutely crushed and he begins to doubt all their previous interactions

so while sidra's trying to process the fact that he was killed, he can't even turn to the person he was closest to because, even though it was a big misunderstanding, he did accidentally end up hurting asmo and he just feels way too overwhelmed with everything going on to even think about trying to patch things up at this point even though in the long run it'd make everything a lot easier but it's hard so he just isolates himself further and sends himself into an even worse spiral and-

its ok tho the purgatory hall gang helps him a lot at this point and eventually they sort it out

01:

wowie thank you for asking!!!!!!! he's 33!!! which has the most stupid backstory that i will explain because i want to hehehe

so originally he was going to be like 25 or whatever, not for any particular reason it just seemed fitting enough but i remember seeing a tweet about how kasane teto being in her 30s was very important for maximum cuteness and i thought to myself huh... that's a good point actually, sidra needs to be in his 30s too for maximum cuteness

and also hit japanese singer mafumafu is in his 30s and he is very cute so it just made sense at that point

and then he was gonna be vaguely somewhere in his 30s for a while UNTIL ex and bee happened and i thought itd be hilarious if he was 1 year younger than ex and ex was really mortified about being the same age as sidra so now he's 33...

mc ask game!

[danpuff-ao3]

Rarepair Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @cindle-writes!

Tagging: @writcraft, @perverse-idyll, @lizzy0305, @tackytigerfic, @sitp-recs, @consistentsquash, @mxlfoydraco, @wolfpants, @crazybutgood, @siriusly-sapphic, @stonedregulus, @broomsticks, @phoebe-delia, @nv-md, @ashesandhackles, @teacup-tai, @billsfangearring, @snapesnailtape, @fangqueen, @charlotterhea, and uhhh...anyone else who wants to play? And no pressure to the zillion people I tagged. It's just for funsies and I'm curious about what folks like! 😄

Rules: List the top rarepairs that you like outside of your OTP, and why you ship it! (Criteria for what makes a rarepair is up to your own discretion.)

My OTP is Snarry and I'm pretty sure most ships I like outside of Snarry are rarepairs haha! Let's seeeee...🤔

Harry/Scorpius

As I like to say: Snarry is my husband, and Scarry is the hot poolboy. I am a devoted wife, I swear, but sometimes...Well, sometimes a gal fantasizes about the poolboy, what can I say? 🤷‍♀️ I often struggle shipping Harry or Severus with other people, but Scarry feels less like a struggle and more like temptation. And while I find Young Severus ships easier to read (as I can imagine all roads lead to Snarry), I suppose Scarry can be enjoyed in the terrible universe in which Harry's actual soulmate was gone. (Not me vehemently defending myself for my guilty pleasure ship, noooo 😂)

Anyway, all that to say, I often wondered why I shipped Scarry myself. Why it's so much easier for me to enjoy than other Harry ships. Sure, it has the age gap thing going for it. And "son's best friend" going for it. And "son of my childhood rival" thing. Okay so yeah maybe it does make sense. 😂 What it lacks (in my imaginings) is all the fire I generally am drawn to, but ah well. It has enough else going in its favor. And really, what I'm only just now recognizing is that this sort of came together for me the same way Snarry did: my great love of the characters separately. I read the Cursed Child and fell in love with sweet cinnamon roll Scorpius. Which turned into...me being into Scarry!

Of course in my brain it happens one of two very specific ways 😂 Either Severus is...not there. For reasons. And Harry moves on with Scorpius one day. OR it's a one sided crush on Scorpius' end, which I am also hecka into. Who doesn't like a bit of unrequited love?? (At least, when their OTP isn't suffering for it.)

Draco/Sirius

I'M OBSESSED. WHY IS THERE NOT MORE OF THIS SHIP OUT THERE???? I CRY. Ahem. Anyway.

It's the age gap. It's the cousin incest. It's the "hooking up with my rival's godfather." It's the Gryffindor vs Slytherin of it. It's the Order and Death Eater of it. Also...they're both really pretty. 🤷‍♀️ Those good good Black genes, you know?

Also I just feel like...it can work. One of those things that might start off as sex and becomes really serious even though they both refuse to admit it for the longest time?

Sirius likes a challenge, I think, and Draco can provide one. And there's much more depth to Draco than I think Sirius might initially give him credit for. I see him as being a bit vain and a bit proud, but also insecure and vulnerable. He's sassy and bratty, and spoiled, but also with a lot of hurt and a lot of problems he himself might not be fully aware of. It's the complications and contradictions the Black family knows so well, and Sirius can understand Draco at that level better than most people, but also isn't so tied to family tradition that he can help pull Draco away from it. Sirius can shake up Draco's world a bit. Show him fun, silly things like bars and motorcycles and crappy Muggle flats. But also introduce him to freedom, and letting loose, and finding himself outside of that "Malfoy heir" identity, the way Sirius ran away from his "Black heir" identity.

I don't think Draco will pull away as much as Sirius did, and Sirius will understand enough to meet Draco where he is. And he knows the world Draco comes from enough to integrate into it when he needs to. And I think they'll find a lot of understanding and acceptance together, and learn a lot together, and explore a lot together, and be really chaotic and intense and messy together, and find so much joy and contentment together.

I have many Drarius feelings and I really need to write more of them one day.

Snape/Filch

Delphi sure SOLD me on this one, geez Louise. This is one of those I don't think is forever, but is meaningful and impactful to both parties. (It's gotta end Snarry, y'know? 👀) Love the age gap. And I love it best when it's student/caretaker. Maybe New Professor/caretaker, even. I love the idea of these two outcasts coming together and finding comfort together, and being able to appreciate each other in ways other people don't.

They both have their bitterness, and their sense of cruelty. They're both overlooked and unappreciated. Filch as the Squib looking after a magical castle full of magical people. The butt of many jokes. And Severus, the half-blood, the poor kid, the ugly kid. From a rough background, and surrounded by peers of much better circumstance. Targeted by the Marauders (who cause Filch enough trouble, too.)

It's fascinating to me, to see Filch, who doesn't seem to like much of anyone, being drawn to Snape. Sort of feeling a kindred spirit in some ways. A sense of camaraderie in the way Snape is seen, and treated, by others. Severus' broodiness and bitterness. But mostly sparked by some stunt pulled by the Marauders.

And Filch being the one to see how amazing Severus is. How intelligent and skilled, but looked over in favor of more handsome and charming and well-connected students. And I can see him being a bit torn between smug pride over how similar they are, and sharing that feeling of "yeah people don't see what I'm capable of, either" and then part of him growing to really care for Severus and wanting better for him and wanting others to actually see Severus the way Filch does. And Severus appreciating that, and feeling seen and safe with someone, at least to the extent that he can feel those things. (Wary as he is.) And really enjoying the affection he gets, and pleasure from their physical relationship. And maybe learning at least some small sense of self-worth and confidence in his own physicality.

One day I'm going to write the Snilch-turned-Snarry of my dreams and it's gonna be great, and in the meantime, a gal can dream.

Ginny/Gwenog

LISTEN. 2 lady athletes being hot together? Why not?? Of course with Gwenog being barely more than a mention, a lot of this is built on headcanon for her, but like...

Quidditch hero Gwenog. I like to headcanon her as a Slytherin (primarily due to a Snegurochka fic.) She's a Slug Club alum. She's a famous athlete. So I like to imagine her as a bit arrogant, and sure of herself. And maybe there initially being a "don't meet your heroes" moment between Gwenog and Ginny wherein Ginny very quickly loses her admiration of Gwenog because they meet at the wrong time (imagine they meet at some Slughorn event, haha.) But as Ginny loses interest in Gwenog, Gwenog's interest in Ginny is sparked.

Then one day they meet on the pitch, either as teammates or rivals. Either could be fun! And sort of coming together over their love of the sport and Ginny realizing there's more to Gwenog than first impression led her to believe. Also: there's at least some sorta age gap there, which you KNOW I love!

Also I love the idea of tabloids painting Ginny some type of way when she moves from a high profile relationship with Harry Potter: hero to a high profile relationship with Gwenog Jones: celebrity athlete. And maybe unfairly getting a reputation as a fame whore. And Ginny being super bitter about it because they don't understand!!!!

Anyway basically there's a lot of fun to be had.

Also I have weirdly specific feelings about tall Ginny. Just this tall pretty redhead athlete with short!Harry, and then moving onto her shorter butch girlfriend Gwen. Idk but really tall and more femme Ginny just does it for me. Like...she's like "I have long hair and I can pull off pretty dresses, but also I have the Bat Bogey Hex mastered, and I'll kick your ass on the pitch" and I respect that.

Hermione/Lavender

My newest obsession weirdly??? Even though I've read hardly any fics for it and there's no age gap to be seen. 🤨 Love me some Hermione/Fleur you know (my favorite Hermione ship still), and Hermione/Minerva and Hermione/Narcissa, but lately Hermione/Lavender is doing it for me on an almost opposites attract level?

This gives me a big impression of two people with the wrong idea of each other and having to face their own biases once they start to connect on some level. And then both being Ron's exes is hilarious. Bonus points for that. And imagine them as a longterm couple and they laugh years later over it. "Remember how we both dated the same guy? And we were jealous of each other? And now we're madly in love? Haha, life is funny."

Like, yeah, Hermione can be a bit bossy and fussy, and opinionated and judgmental in her own way. A bit self-righteous. Lavender isn't a very academic sort of person, but she's not dumb, and she's very brave. I like the idea of Lavender finding respect and admiration for Hermione only once she moves past Hermione being "very smart." And even Hermione sees so much of her value tied to her intelligence, and Lavender finding value literally everywhere else. How loyal Hermione is, how passionate she is, her love of travel and culture, etc.

And Hermione having to look past Lavender's "silliness" and face just how judgmental she is, and having to come to grips with yeah Lavender likes to gossip, and dress up, and she's very romantic, and she's interested in Divination, but there's also more to her than that. And that there is still value in things Lavender enjoys even if Hermione doesn't care for them herself, or even "believe" in them. And Hermione finding value in Lavender beyond how pretty she is, or how playful (especially postwar when Lavender maybe deals with heavy scarring and trauma and maybe heavy blows to her self-esteem.) And maybe being seen and recognized for better qualities even she maybe didn't think of herself as having, such as being quite brave and quite strong.

I dunno I just really want to explore them and all of the potential gives me many feelings.

[simplydnp]

I actually started crying when I read your recent post about unlearning shame. I'm so proud of you and happy that you're doing this 💗 I on the other hand am not as brave and unfortunately still present as a caricature of myself, or just another "cooler"person entirely. I'm in law school and I did fuckin modeling for like 3 years, I did fencing I'm so cool!! Except all those things I'm doing trying to be. Except the sport I actually love fencing. But still these are things that don't always feel authentic to me, sometimes they do - for example I am vain at times so whatever, I like academics and uni in general but don't know if I wanna do anything with law really. We'll see. None of my friends know about some of my real interests or thoughts (I don't think they would judge me I genuinely don't want to ruin my "image" or whatever I've created). Now that I'm typing it, I realize how sad that sounds. Anyway I'm not going to the dnp show, because none of my friends know I like them or would want to go. I don't,have online friends because I'm just a lurker from my carefully curated artsy blog where i dont post dnp lmao. Still, I wish you a great time and thank you for posting that! If I'm more brave in the future, I might go to another tour they might do in a few years

oh anon 🫂 god its brutal out here isn't it

the unfortunate part about all of this is that i Really care how i'm perceived. i'm very careful about how i present myself because i have this fear of being too much. that once people see enough of me, they'll leave. and it'll be my fault. so i simply have to walk that line. the loneliness of no one ever truly knowing. or them finding out too much and being left. because, historically, that's always what's happened.

it's especially hard when you have qualities that you think are neat and fun and special. and yet. you don't get to share them. you don't get to exist as if you are neat and fun and special. instead, you have to live up to this image of yourself that you've created. i've found in a lot of ways it's easier to slide into the mask of only being surface level deep. of molding myself into the 'expectation' laid upon me. goody two shoes. overachiever. loud. but it's just that, a mask. it's not real. but the part that hurts the most is that you keep waiting for someone to notice. and then they don't. and you convince yourself that you're just so good at it. but you can't make yourself the mask. even though i've tried.

you don't have to do law if you don't want to. i know it's easy for me to say, not having put money into a law degree. but i know what it's like to feel like your degree isn't really yours. you've got time. it's okay.

you're not alone in your struggle anon. i think fencing is hella cool and i hope you can find someone who you can chat with about it.

in terms of the shows, i told myself i was going. no matter what. and i knew i'd likely be going on my own. and then some of my lovely mutuals & friends here were like 👀. and i said ykw. fuck it. i have to travel anyway, why not do it across the ocean. and on top of that, some jokes turned real and now i'm going to iceland too. i understand waiting. but i know there's lots of people like you who are going to go to these shows and probably not know anyone. so if it's something you think you can handle, and it's financially possible, maybe think a little about going. i'm not sure when dnp are touring close to you, but you still have time. doing things for yourself is important. i think you'd have a lovely time. (and if you're stressed about the internal perception, no one needs to know you went, and no one there will know you. so it doesn't matter--at least, that's what i usually tell myself. they'll never see you again. so fuck it!)

best of luck, i hope we both can grow and thrive

[ephhemeralite]

Since you came to ask for my process, I'd like to come over here and ask about yours!! I see you also do drafts, and I'd love to hear how that looks for you 👀

There is no pressure to go as in depth as I did for mine though!!! And there is no rush <333

I hope your writing is going well!!!

hello!! i have written, honestly, so much in response to this. thank you very, very much for asking, because i love to talk about writing!! maybe more than i enjoy writing, even. lord.

one caveat about me and prose: my thing is very, very definitely poetry. i write poetry about every other day and i have done for years. i adore fanfiction -- to write it, to talk about it, to brainstorm about it, to help edit my friends'. i love how collaborative it is, i love its unique sets of tropes, i love when people talk to me about my fics and their own. i LOVE fic. i do not adore writing it the same way. sometimes, i think of it as a means to an end (having a fic i would like to read and am proud to have written). the way that i go about writing fics reflects this, i think.

my process is pretty shaky and i can be bad about sticking to it (i try to 'trick' my brain out of needing the things it needs to complete longform writing. like a FOOL). the general shape of my process is: an inciting idea (a song lyric, a poem, another fic, a tumblr post, "wouldn't it be cool if [blank] happened in a fic?") -> an actual concept (what would actually have to go on in a fic to make [blank] plausible) -> first draft (me telling the story to myself, ugly) -> second draft (rewrite with a lot of influence from the first draft but, like, good to look at). all throughout this process, i tend to take the time to line edit when my brain gets too overwhelmed with the actual writing, since i find editing to be leagues easier. it's a good way to take a break while still working on the fic, but it is deeply inefficient from every other angle. but, hey, the first rule of fic is to have fun and be yourself.

i'm going to go into detail under the cut bc no one's dash deserves what i've done to this ask.

warning (?) for the fact that the fic i'm currently writing is hockey rpf.

i usually start out with rambling to my friends, too! when my hrpf first possessed me, i sent about 15 messages to my friend cara (who doesn't give a shit about hockey or hrpf) that outlined the (hrpf-specific) trope i liked, what fic inspired me (x), and the goal of my own fic. an abbreviated snippet of that:

it could be interesting to play with the two ways the trope manifests (violent/aggressive and protective) (needing to be taken care of/reassured by teammates) via having them both nest. it has the potential to be so tender . . . i have this mental image of ullmark, who is spacy (clue that he's due for nesting on his own) at practice doing drills or smth when he hears swayman yell/yelp/smth (depends on what sets him into nesting, hurt/confronted/whatever) and goes to check on him only to be met with a fully nesting goalie. while trying to calm him down, he ends up nesting, too.

i imagined this as a oneshot with an extended version of this scene and, perhaps, another. i knew what vibe i was shooting for and what content might pair with it. i skipped the concept step, because i am a fool and i hoped it might be short enough to get through writing it with momentum. i did not do that. more on this later.

what an idea turning into a concept should look like:

i want to write a version of the batfamily/white collar crossover that deals with all related topics the way that //i// think they should be handled

into

a two-chaptered fic, heavy on parallels, split between peter and dick's povs. lots of unreliable narration where the parallels draw attention to how unreliable everything is. both chapters should include the same or similar scenes with the characters' first impressions of each other, moments when they clash (insert scene ideas where dick loses agency, peter invades his privacy, a major plotpoint from the show, etc), how that results in a rise in tension, and when that tension breaks in the climax (burning building?? dick fakes his death???), and closing scenes. dick's pov is going to include a lot more family stuff, focus on the issues of the fic, etc, while peter's pov obscures the issues and completely misses the presence of dick's family.

this is only a recreation of what my 'acquainted with the saint of never getting it right' fic's concept would have looked like, since i've lost all of this since i drafted it two years ago, but the thought stands. it's really sparse -- less than your zero draft, even, but the next step in my process is more than a zero draft, so i'd say they hold the same place in my process. i might include references to ideas i have for scenes if i have them, but they're usually few-word clues like "sketchbook" or "peter in apartment for coffee."

since i like to swim without a paddle, my next step is draft one. my goal is to get it down; if the details feel good and come easy, i will include them, but i don't let them trip me up. it's easier to add shit into the next draft than it is for this one to go uncompleted, basically. some word choices from this draft might remain in the final piece, but rarely does sentence structure or much else.

Sway is growling from deep in his chest, projecting the sound out across the ice. The rest of the team is inching away from Sway’s crease and towards Linus, which upsets something in the back of his mind — Sway should have the team around if he's upset. Clearly, with the growling, he doesn't want them close, but that doesn't mean that they should leave him, either. Once he settles down, he's going to want them. Linus knows, he'd had his fair share of triggered nesting episodes when he was younger. Unless there was something specific that’d set him off — then things would be different, according to what he needed — but Linus doubts that. It was mostly likely that this was just a simple rough start and Sway could get into proper nesting the moment he settled down and relaxed in the net. He could show Sway that easily, Linus thinks. His drifting forward comes to a gentle stop near the front of the pack of teammates and coaching staff carefully not crowding Swayman. He registers, in a distant way, that what's happening right now is going to cause a heaping helping of issues for somebody, but he's also not worried about it. At all.  What he's worried about is how Sway needs to feel safe right now and how he doesn't. Linus knows that he's never felt safer than while nesting for this team and that he could give Sway that, if he tried. He just has to get Sway to a nest. All he needs to do is tell Sway that and Sway will surely listen. He lets out a loud chirp, cutting off whatever the head and goalie coaches were trying to say to Swayman. Usually, he'd feel pretty guilty about interrupting, but it's alright. He's going to fix the issue; they'll understand. Sway moves from eyeing up the coaches to staring straight at him so fast that Linus worries about him pulling something; all of the more reason to get him safe and tucked away, somewhere where they can both relax. The growl dies abruptly in his throat, which makes Linus want to preen. Clearly he knows his teammates best. Linus chirps again, eager to get this moving along. Eyes locked onto him, Sway chirps back.

this is a pretty long excerpt, sorry, but a lot happens between the first and second draft and this has plenty left unworked.

the first paragraph is alright -- some imagery i like (the growling and the team's movement), linus' thought process toes the line between coherent and incoherent the way i'd like it to (might lift that, wholesale, to the second draft), although the phrasing "which upsets something in the back of his mind" is... eugh.

the second, third, and fourth paragraphs' main use is to outline where linus' mindset is going, although it's clunky and off-target. i just need the reminder to write his mindset in and its vague shape, for this draft, though. if i kept any of this, the phrasing/sentence structure would need to be changed, but it's more likely that i'd scatter it through the movement and description i'd add into the second draft. my first drafts tend to be either all-internal or all-external, so my second drafts act as the equalizer.

beyond that, my second drafts also make everything... longer. so much longer. it helps me move everything from a barebones "this is what probably happens" to "this is what experts call a nice reading experience," you know? plus, i can move forward with draft one with questions still unanswered, like: i haven't actually decided how i want the narration to refer to these characters, yet. the first name vs last name vs nickname and WHEN debate is an important one, but if i got hung up on that first, i'd never actually write the damn fic itself. instead, we can get it moving.

the difference between a first and second draft might look like this for me:

Nile is in the desert.  Her boots are stiff with sand, her hands grasping her rifle, her body weary under her gear. She's marching. On the back of her tongue, she tastes blood. There's not another person around for miles. No squadmates, no commander. No civilians, no insurgents. The sun beats down on her from its place at perfect zenith. Nile stumbles to a stop, heaving for the heat. She casts about for her water, but it's not where it should be or anywhere it shouldn't be, either.

vs

Nile is never going to get out of the desert. That’s most of what she knows. There are other things, like: her boots are stiff with sand, her hands are grasping a rifle, her body is weary under her gear. She’s marching. On the back of her tongue, she tastes blood. She’s alone. From horizon to horizon, the terrain is empty of everything but herself. Her squadmates are missing, her commander absent. There are no civilians, no insurgents.  The sun beats down on her from its place at perfect zenith, millions of miles away. She stumbles to a stop, heaving for the heat. She wishes, desperate beyond words, for water, but her bottle is missing. It’s not hooked onto her vest or around her hips; she’s never spent a moment more aware of each of the trillion grains of sand that surround her, dry as dust, as in this moment.

(this fic, even the sun knows where you sleep, has been languishing as a half-finished second draft since may of last year. it's a crossover between the old guard and the sandman, where nile has a series of dreams influenced by morpheus. this is one of them) the first draft of this fic is about 5k, but the finished second draft could end up around 15k. long as hell, by my poet standards.

this second draft is lacking line edits, but bloop (my beloved sister, muah, ily, etc) helped me comb through it months ago so the proposed changes are available. the phrasing is prettier, the structure less repetitive, the imagery and setting clearer. the parts of this that are written are just a stone's throw away from being of posting quality. unfortunately, i'm also of the camp no-posting-before-completed, so it won't be.

i have a gomens fic sitting unfinished on my account because i lost steam and interest before i finished the second draft of its last chapter, which is just... so unfortunate. i'd love to finish it, and eventually i might, but i've acquired a bit of distaste for gomens in the meantime and (in the spirit of being myself and having fun) i'm not beating myself up about it. but, like, lesson learned.

back to the point: sometimes, the second draft can change more of a fic (warning for non-graphic violence):

Nile is standing at the window at the top of Merrick's skyscraper, Andy's labrys in hand.  The window is shattered again, though there's no other proof of their battle that Nile can sense. Andy is nowhere to be seen, nor is Merrick. Nile doesn't look down through the window, but she knows there's no crushed car or mutilated body, either. There is Nile, standing at the shattered edge, weathering the sharp breeze snapping against her. There is the ax in her hand, the wooden handle rough. Grainy. It hasn't been smoothed by use or through craftsmanship and Nile can feel splinters bite into her grip.  The wood is hot, she realizes suddenly – not skin-warm, but the type of hot that comes from holding something porous as it burns and vents heat through places yet untouched by the flame. In panic, she raises her head to find the source and is blinded, completely. The shock of it is such that she stops moving entirely and blinks, uncomprehending – the sun.

vs

Nile is standing in the moment before the fall. The precipice.  She’s at the top of Merrick’s tower again. Behind her lies a cold and empty room, made more of shadow than substance. She knows that she is supposed to continue through – see the moment to its end – but she has been given the opportunity to pause, as time comes to a standstill. Some things have changed; Andy and Merrick are missing. The evidence of their fighting is gone, except that the window is already shattered. A cold wind rushes through the absence, knocking sharp teeth against her body, frozen in its lunge forward toward empty space. In her fist is the labrys that should be cutting into the meat of Merrick’s shoulder. Nile can feel the tackiness of blood in her grip on the wooden handle. She wonders at the grainy texture caught beneath it, surprised that time nor craftsmanship hasn’t smoothed it over, before she understands that this is not Andy’s handle. Instead, the roughly-hewn lumber extends from the floor to a place over her head to become a sort of halberd, its point on the floor supporting most of her weight.  It's hot, too – not skin-warmth, but the type of heat that comes from holding a porous item as it’s being consumed by fire, venting heat out through places yet untouched by flame. Nile isn’t injured by the blister of it, but the sensation of burning without pain unnerves her and she raises her gaze to find the blade and the flame. Only, she doesn’t make it that far. Lifting her face out of her hunched position brings it to look toward the window, where she discovers the opposite of Merrick’s abyssal building as it inundates her: an immense deluge of light.

there's a lot more definitive changes to structure, phrasing, and imagery here than in my last snippet. i do, in a literal sense, go through and rewrite each word of my fic between drafts, but how many of those words are carried over from the first to the second can vary depending on the quality of the draft. it's way easier for me to rework a pre-existing piece than make something, wholesale, which i'm well aware of and try to cater to. this is the method that's seen my writing improve the most, even though i think it's wildly impractical and unwieldy. i've even done it with this exact post, which part of why it's taking me so long to finish it!

i'm trying something new with the process on the hrpf, since it's been giving me so much trouble. the theme's changed a bit, with a wider scope and something specific to say, but i also want to incorporate a social media/journalism/outsider's perspective element, which will let me move around outside of the characters' narrations while establishing the wider world of the au. this new step is as close to a zero-draft as i've gotten, even though it's still way less detailed. it looks like this:

MOST VIOLENT VS MOST AMIABLE GOALIES TO NEST IN THE NHL listicle Sway and Linus discuss nesting, Linus has settled into a pattern Could gentle-nester ullmark be a calming influence over swayman or will he dull his edge? speculative piece, focus more on the first option maybe to contrast the move towards understanding anger. Bruins vs buffalo, ullmark in net (dec. 7 game? If the timeline for that works), linus is upset at the loss/it goes bad somehow. Sway is supportive in a more assertive way than typical. It doesn’t start here but it turns here Can’t decide if tweets or something would be good here Internal, staff-only memo advising to keep sway away from linus when he’s feeling broody.

each line represents a separate 'chunk' of the fic. with the added elements, i need to know what will go where so that i can make sure the storytelling tracks throughout. i'm still on this part of the draft, but i'm having a good time with it again which is what i think is most important.

anyway, thank you for asking!! i definitely love to talk about writing! i'm always sooo down to chat, too, except for maybe right now because i am going to pass out asleep i think. <3!!!!!!

[wishful-seeker]

Able bodied people do not intract please

I know not everyone will agree with this, but i enjoy my life even with chronic pain. Before i continue with this thought, a disclaimer: i am not telling people how to feel, this is not how i think people should feel, its only my personal experience, and if i see anyone twisting my words into ablist bs i will block you. Okay, anyways. I lost everything when i became disabled. I went from rock climbing, hiking, biking, kayaking, and beating a triathlon at 18, to being bedridden, needing a wheelchair, and for a long time not even being able to hold a phone. Sometimes the pain was so bad i had to be spoon fed because holding a spoon HURT TOO MUCH. But here is the thing. I wasn't happy able bodied, i used all these activities to ignore my issues and feelings, and when i lost it ALL, literally all i could do was think. Lay in bed and think. Look at myself, look inward. The first few years were awful, i was in physical pain and i never truly healed mentally and had been struggling with bipolar, anxiety, and ptsd for years. My mind was not a nice place. So i did the only thing i could, i made my mind a nice place to be. It was the only way to survive. I meditated A LOT. I created safe places in my head, i met spirit guides and deities, they taught me things, i inspected my issues and tried to solve them on my own, but the most important thing was that i started BEING NICE TO MYSELF. You know that voice in our head that tells us we're stupid? Not enough? A bad person? I got rid of it. Normally that would take a long time, but again all i had was my mind. I caught myself, everytime i said something negative about myself and corrected myself. "Im not stupid, i make mistakes, just like every other person in the world, i just need to grow from it." It was like being my own mother or guardian. After that EVERYTHING was just a little easier, and i kept going with this until i accepted my disability. I would never work again, maybe i can bike and hike again one day but I'll always have this pain, and thats okay, i can still be happy. Then i got really lucky, i got diagnosed, and then we found a treatment that helped, really helped, and while I'll always have this im actually recovering. Days of being spoon fed and only thinking are gone. But, im glad i went through it. It was horrible, hardest thing I've ever dealt with, but i am SO GOOD mentally now, i am now so much calmer and level headed, and that makes life a lot easier. It would have taken so many more years to get here if i was never disabled. If i was never disabled i wouldn't know this acceptance or love or peace. It forced me into it. I don't like the pain and i never will, but now i can spend the rest ofy life knowing how to find peace in any situation, thays extremely valuable, most people don't have that. It feels like im retired. I play games all day, garden, and recover, thats my life right now. Its smooth, and peaceful. I like being disabled. It's hard, very hard, but im GOOD at hard stuff, i thrive dealing with hard stuff.

Im NOT saying trauma happens for a reason or to teach us things, im saying i just so happened to learn something from it. Whatever you feel about your disability is vaild, but i just wanted to share my story.

[system-of-a-feather]

Honestly I think a thing a lot of people lack when engaging in discourse and honestly complicated conflict and bad blood rooted communication with anyone (past abusers, codependent relationships, internal interactions with persecutory parts etc) is a really low grasp and awareness BEFORE HAND of what they value most and what is at the heart of what they need to be said and understood - and as a result the point of arguing and discussing fets warped around in 5000 only semi-related arguments and people - rooting their need for another topic - feel the need to double down on less important points in displaced fear of forfeiting what actually matters to them

Going into an interaction where the history is less than stellar and knowing and clearly seeing what actual hurt / anger you hold and where it stems is really important to actually having productive conversation / discourse, keeping the topic focused, and giving yourself the room to compromise WITH the other person should they also be willing to compromise.

This came to mind with the whole tulpacourse on my personal blog cause really, I value anti-racism far more than any inherent hard stance of terminology or thr group and should there be a good and genuine proposition to apply anti-racist ideology without changing terms that was actually worth giving the benefit of doubt, I'd be open to overlooking even the term discourse. To me the term is a representative of the problem, an obvious and easy starting point to make amends, but if there is an alternative to make the core thing I value (anti-racism) work that works better and more practically, I'd be willing to throw out my complaints and - given the change is actually made and followed through - completely ally myself to them on a good faith to good faith exchange.

It's why I'm generally pro-endo. I don't know shit on it, but the endo community gave us the good faith in listening to our hurt and anger about cultural appropriation and in turn, I am choosing to seperate those that have given good faith as "endos" and just shitty people as shitty people. The endo community is due good faith from me that should it be kept, my good faith will be returned to my less-informed self.

But even beyond syscourse and online discourse, this is largely how I deal with persecutors in the system and why Im a resident persecutor wrangler. I know what is and isnt negotiable and I know they are people and parts that need something themselves otherwise they would not be voicing their needs. Its a matter of helping them pinpoint what they need and then figuring out a way to have both of our needs met that we can typically defuse them.

Of course not everyones needs are compatible and that is where it is easier irl than within the system as - for irl people - you can just choose to not engage with them, block them, cut them off, ignore them etc which you really cant do as healthily within a system, but ya know, sometimes people really aren't compatible and while that usually is a matter of "unfortunate" luck...

I really don't feel unlucky OR unfortunate to say I am not compatible with racists - especially sinophobic racists - as a Chinese POC myself.

[dufferpuffer]

Just read your reply to my reply...

And i really understand where you are coming from.

Actually, a few days back i was reflecting as to why this particular character has struck a cord with me when i just move away from characters I do not like and don't sit around thinking about them...

But with Lupin I often try to avoid him...

One reason is for the obvious that I am not interested in his fanon version.

But even if I read metas like yours Or good story with him being complex, I turn them off and look the other way.

I see myself reflected in him too much. With his illness and his own struggle with accepting it and unable of finding a better way to live a considerably and comparably healthy life. His avoidance. His single-minded ness.

My own struggle with my ADHD and depression, make me look selfish in other peoplE's eyes. Like I don't care. When truth is far from it, sometimes your own problems, big Or small, wraps around your head making you unable to look around and make room for people to see you and accept and in turn make them seen too.

Reading you talk about him makes me feel seen in a way. But i am not ready to read a story about him because for me fan fiction is a way of escaping the troubles of real life where the protagonist gets a happy ending but i know that realistically an absolute happy ending is not in bag for remus if we are being honest.

So, at a stage in my life where I struggle to make life work with a disease that is pulling me down, I don't find solace in reading about him. His canon self makes me uncomfortable in truth.

You are like a strong person who accept that he has issues and you deal with your issues by discovering the life and struggles of him as a character...

I am in terms total opposite to you on this. I avoid him like my life depends on it. This is the first time i have admitted to even myself as to why canon lupin is a no go to me.

I dunno if its about 'being strong'. Just being different. I think it's strong to dislike something - and be able to take the time to think about why - and thus understand yourself better as a person. That's what fiction is for, right? Thinking about yourself + others. Sometimes you relate with a character, sometimes you don't... and sometimes you really don't want to. Sometimes you learn from their lessons, and sometimes their lessons just hurt. 'realistically an absolute happy ending is not in bag for remus if we are being honest.' ...yeah, you're right. Remus story isn't happy. Its a tragedy, from start to finish, where he makes mistakes the whole way through - and has his chance for happiness ripped out from under him by dying young. That can be damn painful when you relate to parts of it.

I hope things get easier for you, with your work/health. I don't wish you a 'cure', or a 'full recovery' - those things are really nice, but sometimes are unreachable. I wish you some more important things: Comfort, time away from pain so you can rest. Stability, where you can trust the world won't collapse around you. Understanding from others, support - so you don't feel alone. Some good distractions, like hearty and happy fanfic ;) ...And maybe some chocolate. A werewolf told me it helps.