#the first time. there's less structure and you fall apart. i used that as an opportunity.

[holyviolence]

omg i spent the whole day cleaning my entire apartment because my family was coming to visit and 1) so so so happy my adhd is being medicated now it's literally changing my life and 2) i FINALLLY got through to my dad about how he probably has ADHD too!!!!! he finally said Yeah i think i might have adhd. and my mom was like Me too (we've had this talk privately before, she knows she has adhd too lol) And my brother is literally transferring to a different school because he can't concentrate and isn't disciplined at his current uni. adhd family.

[earlysunshines]

routines and repeats

pham hanni x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you and hanni have a routine, something like that, maybe a little far off... maybe it's not really a routine -- it doesn't really matter because hanni's apart of it.

wc: 2.1k

warnings: none?? ; not proofread

a/n: wrote this in one sitting again muahhaha enjoy thank u for the support and attention and love and jaajksdlfdsal everything for my newjeans fics :-} love u all

you and hanni have settled into a comfortable rhythm. it's not exactly a routine in the traditional sense—nowhere near as meticulously organized as minji's planner of goals and daily tasks, nor as structured as haerin's repetitive art gig schedule. but whatever it is between you and hanni, it's uniquely yours.

but you and hanni have found your own thing, a sort of groove that makes you both content. it's the kind of routine where things just naturally fall into place, where you spend time together without needing a plan, and that's what really matters. 

there's no set list of things to do, nothing is really planned (unless there's a very special occasion), but there are noticeable patterns and repeats of things that happen here and there. 

what matters is that you two are happy with how disorganized and scattered things are because that’s what fits the two of you perfectly. with everything so in order and mapped out, where’s the flexibility? where’s the fun? besides, you and hanni like what you have, and this spontaneous routine brings a smile to your faces at the end of the day.

–

you’ve been together long enough to know that hanni is either taking up most of the space of the bed, or clinging onto you like a koala and breathing into your neck with her mouth half open. despite how stupid she looks while sleeping, it only makes you love her more.

she’s usually the last to wake up and always woken up by you. on weekdays, you poke her cheek after hearing her alarm or shake her up a bit, but she never budges. 

“hanni you have a class in less than two hours…” you mumble, not wanting to be up either. 

“that means one more hour to sleep… please babe.”

“absolutely not. you won’t have time to eat or get ready and then you’ll whine and complain and–”

your girlfriend cuts you off with another groan, slowly removing herself from the crook of your neck with her eyes still closed. you squint at her and smile sleepily, rubbing your eyes before you fix her messy bedhead.

hanni opens her eyes just barely to see you grinning at her, earning a pout from your girlfriend.

“i don’t want to get up.”

“me neither, but you have to.”

“do i?” she frowns as you get up from where you are, watching you lean against the bedframe as you yawn.

“do you want your degree? think about the job you’ll have and the pets we’ll have and our life and–”

“shut up shut up okay! fine.” hanni responds, making you laugh.

every morning, you kiss her on the cheek, forehead, or hand because you two made a pact not to initiate anything lip to lip due to morning breath. at least that’s set in stone; maybe you can be organized if there’s something guaranteed to happen every morning. this small ritual brings a sense of comfort and consistency, grounding your otherwise scattered routine.

additionally, you two take turns showering every morning – usually you’re first. hanni always takes a while longer since she’s fond of warmer water on her skin in comparison to your cold showers as the sun rises. and then you two brush your teeth together, hanni’s usually sitting on the counter glancing at your tired features while you stare into the mirror and hum a small song. 

hanni likes to stay silent and simply enjoy your presence, she’s a firm believer that if you start your day off with something great, then the day can only get better from there.

(she thinks you’re more than great, so everyday is a wonderful day.)

-

hanni usually gets back from her classes about ninety minutes before you head to work, so you use that time to spend together. the afternoon to evening hours are when you miss each other the most, so these precious minutes become your little oasis, a pocket of time where everything else fades away and it's just the two of you, making the most of your time together before life pulls you in different directions.

you're usually either making lunch or catching up on your own tasks by the time she arrives home, something you've grown accustomed to. her arrival marks a familiar cadence in your day, a moment when the energy of the house shifts subtly to accommodate her presence.

you feel arms wrapping around your waist and a head on your shoulder (she has to go on the tips of her toes to do this), you don’t even turn around, knowing it’s hanni.

“hey lover.”

“hello beautiful.” hanni says before kissing your cheek, missing a little and ending up with hair meeting her lips istead of your skin. “missed you.”

“missed you more. how were your classes?”

hanni always says the same thing, or something similar at least. “it was whatever, boring as always.”

“aw, at least you’re back. i’m making rice bowls, go unwind okay?”

“mhm, love you.” she kisses your cheek – not missing this time – and starts for your shared room in the single bedroom apartment. 

it doesn’t take long for her to return, now wearing a different t-shirt (yours), before she's back to clinging onto you while you pack up your lunch box and prepare her meal. hanni eventually ends up sitting on the counter, legs dangling, as she watches you and sings along to your shared playlist. you can't resist giving her a little kiss here and there – just because – since it's impossible not to when she's around.

you hand her the bowl of rice and chicken, a simple meal but seasoned to perfection in hanni’s opinion.

she has her legs wrapped around your waist as she pulls you in, taking a bite of the food you’ve made her and melting. she nods her head, clearly enjoying the meal.

“yeah, this is ass.” 

you scoff as you watch her devour another bite. “right, you’re eating it like the bowl is about to run away from you.”

hanni shrugs. “mid, wouldn’t recommend actually.”

“aw, i guess i shouldn’t cook anymore – ever — since it’s so bad.”

“yeah.” hanni giggles after she finishes her bite, smiling at you like an idiot. “it’s whatever, you’re already very delicious to the eyes.”

“oh my god, you piss me off.” you lie, starting to smile and laugh at her. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

“crazy take but okay.”

hanni rolls her eyes before you get up to finish boxing your lunch, putting it in your work bag and zipping it up. she frowns watching you, not really fond of the fact that you’re leaving her for a few hours.

the two of you always spend the afternoons on the four days that you work together on the couch for a bit, cuddled together as hanni finishes up some work or rereads notes on her laptop. you like this pattern; you adore being near your girlfriend. the warmth of her presence and the simple pleasure of being close make those moments precious to you.

(you don’t care if this isn’t something that would be written on a planner, besides, ‘cuddles at 12:20 sound stupid written out.)

you just like the flow and simplicity of your days. it doesn’t matter, really. as long as hanni is involved and beside you.)

—

your shared evenings and nights vary depending on the day. it’s always unorganized.

sometimes you’re out shopping for essentials, and it’s usually spontaneous, with hanni fighting for her life to make a list and remember everything the two of you need in your shared fridge all within a ten-minute drive. it makes you laugh hearing her curse as she forgets whether you’ve run out of protein for your meals or if you already used the backup conditioner and need a new one. 

on weekends or holidays when time allows, you often find yourselves cozied up together. whether it's snuggled on the couch watching a movie, or out for a quiet dinner or a stroll to some hidden gem haerin discovered, these moments are cherished. hanni's arms wrap around you, her hoodie soon becoming your cozy shield against the chill of the evening, leaving you in just a tank top or a soft t-shirt. the feeling of contentment washes over you as you lean back into her warmth, sighing with a smile, savoring each precious moment together.

other nights, you’re out with your friend group, usually downtown or at one of their apartments. hanni always stays close to you, holding your hand or linking arms with you, while danielle and minji debate over which store to check out or which restaurant is better. even as the whole group— you, hanni, haerin, hyein (if she’s not busy with high school stuff), danielle, and minji— dives into deep conversations or somehow ends up arguing, you and hanni are experiencing and engaging in everything together. there’s almost never a night without her by your side.

but most of the time you’re in bed finishing up school work as hanni finishes her very lengthy nightcare routine, waiting for her to show up at the doorway with a towel loosely sitting on her head with her lips turned up as soon as she spots you.

“took you long enough.”

“hey! you take long too… you’re just always going first– this isn’t fair!”

using exaggerated hand movements, you pantomime hanni's animated way of speaking, complete with imaginary dialogue in the air. hanni flips you off and you pretend to be offended, making the two of you laugh. 

(this is one of your favorite parts of the little routine/groove you two have.)

hanni collapses onto the bed, finding solace in the comfort of your arms. you're engrossed in your laptop, catching up on tasks or maybe just browsing, while she snuggles closer. hanni is very affectionate whether she realizes it or not and it’s apparent as she peppers kisses on your exposed skin, each touch a gentle reminder of her presence and how much she treasures you. even with her phone in hand, she steals these moments to show her love, her lips brushing against your cheek or neck. 

“hey– i just need to finish this! you’re distracting me…” you mutter, which only urges her to kiss you more. “that tickles!”

“finish it quicker…” hanni groans before pressing one last kiss on your lips. you turn to look at her, pouting as you reach to pinch her cheek. she giggles before you flick her forehead. “hey!”

you like to provoke her, she’s adorable when she’s annoyed – even if it’s for a split second.

once your laptop closes and your attention turns fully to her, hanni seizes the opportunity. her kisses shift from playful to tender, each one a testament to her adoration. 

“how was your day?” she mumbles against you.

you kiss her softly before reaching over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table, the table with polaroids of the two of you in a pile on it. “tiring, i was thinking of you.”

“you always are.”

“well now i’m never thinking of you again.” you joke. 

hanni scoffs playfully. you move over to lay down fully, letting out a soft sigh as hanni rests her head on your arm. “what else did you think about?”

“just you, really… i can’t remember anything else. i was thinking about the next time we could have dinner, my coworker irene recommended this place not too far away.”

“mm really?”

“yeah, they’ve got some korean-mexican fusion or something like that.”

you hear her yawn, it makes you smile. hanni feels the soft beat of your heart against her hand, then snuggles closer to you. “that sounds good.”

“you know what else sounds good?” you ask softly.

“hm?”

“you going to sleep and not complaining in the morning.”

hanni giggles quietly as she twirls your hair absentmindly with her finger. “i’ll consider it.”

“sure you will.” you murmur. you move hair away from her forehead before twisting your neck uncomfortably just to kiss her there. “goodnight, i love you.”

“i love you more.”

“uh huh.” 

and perhaps it is some sort of routine, whatever dynamic exists between you and hanni. it may not be as strategically planned as minji's structured days on that planner of hers, or as regimented as hyein's packed schedule after school, but it's uniquely yours. 

you can't quite define it, but the familiar rhythms and recurring moments, even amidst the variations each day brings, have become comforting and essential. 

whether it's hanni's morning grumbles or the shared laughs over unexpected turns, you cherish every part of it. as long as hanni remains a constant in your routine, you’re content.

[officialspec]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

first off i hate this ask and i think youre a freak. in any other world i wouldve blocked you for this but unfortunately for both of us i actually like this type of philosophy. dont send this shit to anyone else though

i dont think its right to compare human sexuality to the same thing in animals, to get that out of the way. im sure until a certain point it comes from the same biological impulses, but human beings have way more complicated social structures and reasons for coupling that just do not exist in other animals. our social behaviours are what make us unique in the animal kingdom and that definitely extends to gender and sexuality. so theres that

people love to tout 'gender is a social construct' around like its a criticism in and of itself, which i think betrays a misunderstanding about social constructs in general. theyre the foundations we build language on to better understand each other, and affected by a whole host of cultural and historical factors. just because theyre subjective and complicated doesnt mean they arent real. in terms of the effect they have on peoples lives they may be the most real thing that exists

for example, 'kindness' is a social construct. the definition and ways it is enacted differ greatly across personal and cultural lines. but no one would ever suggest a world where kindness doesnt exist or loses meaning, because its an essential part of the way we interact with each other (in the same way i dont really see a world where gender entirely ceases to exist, mainly just one where people have more fun with it. im not a psychic though so who knows)

similarly, sexuality in humans is another social construct. i think the driving biological forces behind it are very real, but the labels people attach to those impulses are subjective attempts to express their inner world to the people around them if that makes sense. and those same biological impulses are ALSO subject to social ideas of gender, because those ideas are established at birth and reinforced over a persons entire lifetime

to use myself as an example, im a gay trans man. ive identified as other things in the past, because i was trying to pick apart feelings i had and express them to others in an attempt to find community. my identity might change as i get older and experience new things, or it might not. i identify as gay because im not attracted to the social concept of women, and someone i would otherwise be attracted to might lose all appeal after i find out they fall under that concept (this has happened before w transfems pre and post coming out lol)

of course, the real REAL answer to this is that trying to give queer identities rigid and objective definitions is a fools errand, and also lame as fuck. someone might identify as gay and be more attracted to general masculinity than men as a social category, maybe they fool around with a couple of butch women without considering themself any less gay. two otherwise identical people might be a butch lesbian and a gay trans man without either of those identities coming into conflict. they might even be the same person at different times of the week

the labels people choose to use are communication tools, not objective signifiers. if you dont understand them, they probably arent talking to you

social constructs are everything. we as humans have the unique ability to interpret our own messy desires and impulses into words that other people can use to form an idea of someone else in their mind. its how we build connections, and of course it isnt perfect because trying to squeeze someones entire personal history and the centuries of context that defined it into a handful of syllables is going to leave some room for error. but its all we have, yknow? so we keep trying. and i think thats much more human than any imposed objective 'truth' could ever be

tldr we live in a society dipshit. get with it

[olderthannetfic]

You've encountered site changes over time as a fan elder, what do you make of Tumblr potentially being put out to pasture? Tumblr was my coming of age fan site, and im looking for advice to transition to the next thing with grace and less bitterness than I feel now.

--

Ahaha. God, you should have heard the howling about LJ. "Fandom is over!" "Never again shall we dwell in fandom's True Home!" etc.

Hell, this endless "only LJ was good" crap turns up in replies here on posts where I as OP have very clearly laid out why that's rose colored glasses nonsense and you can so make friends on tumblr, have a conversation on tumblr, etc.

I had my crabby phase about this during the transition from Yahoo Groups to LJ. A lot of the real olds had it over paper zines and the transition to the internet.

I don't know if reading these hilariously samey old posts would help. It does give perspective, I think.

--

As for what you should do, do what I did with Tumblr:

1.

Look around to identify the Next Thing fandom is going to camp out on.

It may take a few guesses and some time to figure this out. You will likely not be an early adopter. Fandom was well established here by the time I joined at the end of 2010. Of course, by now, all those 2009 and before accounts are long gone, but at the time, I was a n00b joining other people's space despite having been in fandom for ages.

2.

Don't expect to enjoy it

I didn't join tumblr because I liked it. In fact, I despised it. I kept right on despising it until a brief stint in Sherlock fandom, a fandom that was so active here at the time that I was able to finally see the good aspects of the site's structure and features.

This is the mistake a lot of people make. They give things a cursory try, don't enjoy them, and go "not for me", forgetting that the last site also had a steep learning curve that was either difficult or that they didn't notice because they were in a different phase of their life.

Bitterness and grief are, frankly, an inherent part of the process. You can try not to be a debbie downer in your public comments, but you can't just not feel those things during the awkward part of the transition. Sometimes, acting positive and cutting off excessively negative thoughts can make you feel less negative overall, but it doesn't happen immediately.

3.

Accept that feeling cranky and old is both a you problem and a state of mind, not a property of the new site

Relatedly, the way we remember fandom platform X feeling usually has more to do with us being in college with fandom friends down the hall or having discovered Our People for the first time or some other time when we had a lot of energy and positive emotions. Often, we were in the throes of a first or new fandom love too, probably for some megafandom that other people also cared about at the same time.

When fandom is leaving some site, there's a grieving process anyway, but we're also often in a worse part of our lives for starting new things. We're busy. We're tired. We're between fandoms. We feel like we already paid our dues to build up our community. Why should we have to start again?

But let me tell you, you always need to start again eventually. I go to a weekly vidders' zoom chat, and a lot of the people in there are old as balls, including Kandy, the person who invented vidding back in the 70s. She's a lot of decades and a few cancers in, and she had to relearn how to vid on a computer after transitioning from slideshows to VCR vidding back in the day. If bad health, platform changes, and dead friends were going to stop her, she'd be long gone.

It's like sharks: you stop swimming, you die.

This isn't just about fandom, obviously. It's about avoiding a midlife crisis and, later, about avoiding feeling emotionally geriatric even when your body is falling apart.

Change gets us all, but being mentally old is a choice. The real reason I gave tumblr such a try was that I had been so resistant to getting on LJ. I was 20. Even a year later, it was fucking embarrassing to have been a crotchety old hag as a college student. I promised myself I'd soldier through the next change instead of dragging my feet about it. And it totally worked in the end! But boy did it not make the transition any less unpleasant emotionally!

4.

Find your joy

As is obvious from the above, the vast majority of the problem is just emotions. Fandom has been on a million broken sites with shitty features. We go where the people are, regardless of whether it has the technological aspects we liked at the last place. The actual shape of that platform is largely irrelevant.

What does matter is whether we as an individual fan are still excited and happy about something. I was between fandoms recently and went looking around for BL series I hadn't watched yet. People kept suggesting things set in the present day with too-cheesy production values and too many banal schoolboys in modern day settings without even anything spicy going on. I realized that the BL/danmei scene wasn't really cutting it for me and I should go for production values and genre and non-canon ships. You probably scrolled annoyedly past the picspams that resulted.

(Of course, hilariously, someone has now shown me the trailer of Red Peafowl, so someone may be making BL that feels like it's for me after all. Look at all that badwrong and very dark color grading.)

When you're in a good place emotionally, it's a hell of a lot easier to weather any change, and when you have a new fandom, it's a lot easier to connect with other fans.

A lot of people wait around for lightning to strike twice. They found their first fandom by accident, and they expect it to happen seamlessly again. For me, it's far more productive to brute force it: collect up a big list of what's popular or what's new and go through it till you find things you might like, then try them all.

And part of this, obviously, is not waiting for other fans to make the party happen. The more you need to join something other people are already doing, the less choice you'll have in fandoms or in platforms. If you aren't picky and just go where the tropey longfic is, that can work, but even then, favorite authors disappear or go to fandoms you hate and former megafandoms dry up. If you're the one bringing the party, it's a lot easier to find a new fandom or platform or community to have fun in.

[underneath-the-sidras]

I'm Addicted to the 'If Only'

for @nessianweek Day 2: Yearning

Summary: There were times. Times when the ale in her cup had softened the roaring in her head to a dull hum. When she was half asleep, or bewitched by a particular tune the string players were playing at the tavern. Times when Nesta's mind would wander towards the shimmering light in the back of her mind, and picture what could have been. With Cassian.

OR

Nesta gets drunk and is simply a woman with fantasies / ACOFAS AU?

A/N: Felt cute, might delete later. I'm going to be honest, I've never done this before. Done what you ask? All of it! Unfortunately, an idea wiggled into my brain and I needed to write it out. Fortunately, the stars aligned and this worked out for Nessian week! That and @separatist-apologist is very good at convincing others to write their first fics. It's very imperfect, but I'd like to think of it as a way to thank all the wonderful writers in the Nessian community who have kept me well-fed with all their beautiful work for so long. This fic is inspired by the song "I Look in People's Windows" by Taylor Swift.

On AO3

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

Snow was falling over Velaris.

Nesta watched as flakes the size of silver coins dropped onto roofs and the heads of passersby as they bustled by the tavern window. The city would soon be completely covered in white, the snowflakes layering on top of one another in the street until they became an impenetrable sea of snow. She used to hate the winter in the mortal lands, how it ran their food scarce, how it forced her to rely on snuggling close to her sisters for warmth. But as she observed from the warm interior of the tavern, she was beginning to appreciate the harsh beauty of the coldest season. She liked the hard structure that came from the cold, finding it far more appealing than the dripping nature of the summertime. That, and maybe she had also begun to appreciate the isolation that came with the onslaught of colder weather. Fewer bodies on the streets meant less chance of running into certain fae. 

It had been four months since the final battle with Hybern, and Nesta had since effectively removed herself from the inner circle. Her sisters were now free to live their lives without her, no longer having to dwell on old wounds and painful memories. And Cassian…her thoughts stuttered. She tried not to think about the Night Court’s general when she could help it, casting any lingering thoughts of him to the farthest corner of her mind.

But.

But there were times. Times when the ale in her cup had softened the roaring in her head to a dull hum. When she was half asleep, or bewitched by a particular tune the string players were playing at the tavern. Times when she would wander towards the shimmering light in the back of her mind, and picture what could have been. With him. 

Would he hold her hand while they sat at the tavern, she wondered, his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand as the music played. Would he press soft kisses into her hair and carry her home after she complained about her feet hurting? The corners of her mouth threatened to lift at the thought. 

She would teach him how to dance, firmly placing his hands on her waist and admonishing him when they slipped lower. His warm laugh would rumble across his chest, and she could feel it now. Feel how they were pressed together, how warm and smooth his skin felt against hers, and how her heart would thunder as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips. 

One kiss would turn into two, then three until he was backing her up towards the wall of her apartment, his hands fisting in her hair as she cried out “Cassian–”

“Miss?” 

Nesta jolted up from where her head rested at the bar, the bartender looking over her with a mixture of pity and weariness. Her head turned over her shoulder to survey the room, suddenly aware of the vast emptiness of the tavern around her.

“Bar closed about a half hour ago,” he said apologetically, “Is there someone I can get to take you home?” Nesta shook her head, her cheeks heating. She rose quickly from her seat, swaying slightly from the alcohol.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” She said in a clipped tone. Using everything in her power to remain balanced, she made her way to the door, decidedly ignoring the concerned look of the barkeep. 

The cold wind greeted her instantly, a welcome sobering feeling brushing across her face. Nesta breathed in the chilly air, the ale having warmed her enough that the cold was almost enjoyable. But the bartender’s question still nettled in her mind. Was there anyone to take her home? Who would want to take her home?

The image of the Night Court’s general flashed across her mind. Cassian, her mind seemed to sigh at his name. Would Cassian have taken her home? Perhaps if she had not refused to speak to him after the war, and he had not given up so easily, he would be here. It was impossible given their history, she knew that, but it was at times like these when Nesta’s mind liked to play games of pretend. Pretending she lived in a world where she wasn’t broken and Cassian had stayed. Would he come to nights at the tavern with her or meet Nesta to walk her home, not wanting her to walk alone on the street? 

Nesta didn’t even know if Cassian liked music, or what kind, where his favorite tavern was, or what he liked to drink. 

She didn’t want to know. 

She was desperate to know. 

It was nonsensical to wonder about these things, she knew, but Nesta’s whole body ached with how much she did not know Cassian, and how much he did not know her. He should not know her, the roar in her head tried to scream out, but the foolish part of her was louder as she continued to walk through the snow-laden streets of the city. 

Did it feel alright for him to not know her? Was he tormented by it, wondering what she liked and where she was at every waking moment? Her stomach fluttered at the thought of it. Her drunken mind liked that idea, of him aching for her. 

She pictured taking Cassian to places she liked to go, her favorite tavern where they had string players on weekends, the bookstore on the corner of her street, the bakery next door to it with the chocolate-almond pastries. Letting him get to know her, and enjoying it.

As her mind wandered, Nesta found her feet continuing to walk deeper into the city, eventually pulling her to one of the main shopping avenues of Velaris. There were crowds on the street this evening for some kind of street fair, bundled but smiling fae faces gathered around food stalls and art vendors in the street. Children chased each other, throwing snowballs with all of their might in sorts of make-shift battles. 

Nesta’s foolish heart warmed at the scene. Had she been in her right mind, she would have turned back as she usually did from crowds. But tonight was different, tonight it was almost as if there was a soft golden glow around the edges of her vision, making everything seem beautiful and soft. 

She pushed forward, staying at the edge of the busy street, her stomach grumbling at the scents coming from the food stalls. She watched as a tall male turned from one of the stalls, half of his long dark hair tied in a makeshift bun. 

Nesta froze as her heart dropped into her stomach. It couldn’t be. What were the chances he’d be in this part of the Velaris? 

She should run. She would say something stupid to him, she knew she would. Something recklessly idiotic. But as her heart beat faster, it was not from fear but from hope. Had he come to see her? Desire surged in Nesta’s chest, but her thoughts halted as the male fully turned.

It wasn’t him.

Stupid. The male wasn’t even Illyrian, he had no wings. She was losing her mind this evening. 

Nesta didn’t often come to the busier parts of the city, instead opting to stay in her secluded area of Velaris where she wouldn’t happen to run into any of her sister’s chosen family. But on the rare occasions she did, she couldn’t help but wonder if Cassian would be wandering the streets as well. Both fearful and hopeful while imagining their eyes meeting while sitting in a cafe by the Sidra, or finding him drinking in the tavern next to hers.

If they did cross paths, would he reach out for her, or would he simply pass by? Nesta’s traitorous fingers twitched as she pictured it. Knew how her hands would unconsciously trail after him, how she would inhale his lingering scent to memorize it, even if he paid her no mind.

Her mind was running wild now that she had opened the floodgates. Fantasies of lives she could never have, dreams she would not share aloud even if someone tried to torture them out of her. Marriage ceremonies, children’s names, what their home would look like, and where they would live. Nesta would at first insist on living separately, the thought of living unmarried with a partner a bit scandalous still. But Cassian would sleep over so often, she would eventually acquiesce and he’d move in with her. They would have dinner together every evening when he was not away, Cassian cooking his favorite Illyrian meals for her. She would sleep on the left side of the bed, and him on the right, closer to the door. On hard nights, he would hold her extra close and run his fingers through her hair, soothing her with soft Illyrian melodies. For once her home, their home, would be warm and safe. 

Again it was as though she could feel it now, how her ear would press into his chest and hear the steady beat of his heart, lulling her to sleep. Her eyes closed.

A boisterous male laugh sounded out from nearby, warm and mirthful. Nesta’s eyes flew back open as she jerked towards the source. 

It wasn’t his laugh, but Mother did she want it to be. She closed her fists and took a breath, frustrated and entranced by all thoughts of him. 

Home. She needed to go home. 

Nesta’s steps finally took her back towards the quieter residential side streets of Velaris, her pathway illuminated by the soft glow from the windows lining the homes. She focused her eyes forward, deliberately looking towards the cobblestone at her feet. Cassian was likely in Illyria, as he usually was, training Rhysand’s armies or whatever he did up in those mountains. She had at least had enough sense not to glance towards the peaks that loomed in the distance, a subtle ache nipping at her to think of him so far. 

Instead she turned her gaze to one of the windows of the homes on the street, a rose-golden glow emanating from within. A table of friends, four males and three females gathered around a verifiable feast of a meal, laughing and chatting amongst themselves as they ate.

Nesta stood there entranced, trying to picture herself at that table, with a group of friends enjoying her company like that. Friends. What would it be like to have friends? She had a few in their village growing up, most abandoning her when her mother passed and father fell into debt. The roaring in her head started, threatening the blissful barrier the alcohol had provided. 

Would she ever feel at ease with a group of fae like that?

One of the males looked up and met her gaze, and for a moment she swore hazel eyes pierced hers. Her breath caught, as she fumbled back towards the street, walking once again, embarrassed to have been caught spying. 

It wasn’t him, Nesta assured herself. But she couldn’t get the image out of her head, of him in one of these houses, seated at a dinner table. It was ridiculous. She wasn’t even sure if Cassian had friends in Velaris outside of the Inner Circle. But the idea had sunk its claws into her mind, a desperate, pathetic hope. Every building she passed, Nesta’s eyes flitted to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of who was inside. She had to know if he was there. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t know.

From that point on, each home she passed was like a scene laid out before her, inviting her to insert herself into the lives of the fae within. Countless lifetimes and possibilities transfixed her, as she continued to watch. It was no longer strangers she was gazing at, but her and Cassian. They were in their living room, dancing with their two children, Cassian picking her up and spinning her while their girls shrieked with delight. They were snuggled up on a sofa together, in front of a roaring fire, Nesta closing her eyes and leaning onto his shoulder. Not a single flinch crossing her face. They were cooking together, Cassian stirring and adding spices to a pot on the stove, while Nesta chopped up something on the counter. Her turning to put what she had been chopping into the pot and pressing a kiss to Cassian’s cheek, who turned to beam at her. They were seated on the floor of their living room together, her handing a beautifully wrapped box to Cassian, who proceeded to open it. 

Back on the street, Nesta reeled back as though she’d been struck. A horrid thought clanged through her. 

What day was it? 

She remembered she had gone to the tavern earlier to listen to some music and have a few drinks before going somewhere. 

To Feyre’s, she realized. 

Feyre had asked her to come to the townhouse this evening because it was…solstice. The tavern had closed early and there was the street fair because it was solstice. She had gotten drunk in order to prepare herself to face Feyre and her family at solstice. 

Suddenly the festive lights and music ringing through the streets came into a sharp clarity, overwhelming her fae senses. 

Panic clawed at her throat, she could not go. She was not ready to face Feyre on her birthday, or Elain. Or Cassian. He would be there, her heart swelled, pulling her feet forward. On this day, she knew where he would be, who he would be with, she just needed to see him. Maybe this could be her one solstice present to herself, she reasoned, to prove that Cassian was not just a being made of whispered fantasies and alcohol-infused delusion. She would just take one look, and then she could go back to her apartment. It was madness, she knew it was, but the sharp sting of reality had not yet taken hold this night. 

Her pace began to quicken, every step faster than the next before she realized she had no idea which direction to turn, thoroughly lost in the maze of the city and her mind in the dark hour. She spun around, almost losing her balance in the slick snow, completely at a loss. The ache in her chest had now turned into a sharp stab of hurt, only to be soothed by the sight of the dark-haired general.

She should turn back, she thought, towards the bustling avenue to start her search there, maybe she would even ask someone for directions. The idea of doing so would usually sour her stomach, but something stronger than fear was driving her tonight. 

She began to walk purposefully, taking only a few steps before her feet skidded to a halt. 

As though it had been dropped from the sky, the massive townhouse loomed before her. Bright festive lights twinkled among the bushes that lined the windows, taunting her as they danced, inviting her to step closer.

Her traitorous feet had been leading her this way the whole time, unbeknownst to her. Nesta bit her lip, did she dare to risk facing her sister’s family tonight? There was a split moment of hesitation before she moved past the front gate. It would only be a brief glance, as soon as she saw those hazel eyes and dark waves she would leave. It would only take a moment.

Nesta didn’t bother going towards the door, electing instead to creep along the outside of the home. What room would they be in at this hour? She made her way towards the right set of windows she remembered as part of the living room. She could only pray the Shadowsinger and her sister’s mate were inebriated enough to not be on their guard tonight while she spied. 

Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as she drew closer, a rainbow glow of holiday lights from within grazed her face as she peered up. She had guessed correctly, the inner circle was gathered around the fire, wrapping paper strewn all over the plush carpet. They must have just finished opening presents. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at her sisters, so at ease in their new lives, openly smiling as they engaged in conversation. Good, she thought, though a hint of bitterness flooded her tongue, it was good that they were happier without her. But her sisters were not who she needed to see this night. Her gaze turned frantic around the room, trying desperately to alight on the male who haunted most of her waking and sleeping thoughts. Her gaze made no purchase. He was not there.

Was he in Illyria after all? She wasn’t sure she could bear that after all the torment this evening. So she waited, watching her sister’s chosen family enjoy their holiday, as they laughed and shared stories with bright eyes, drinking deeply from their cups. It was not too far off from what she would be doing inside the house anyway, watching the inner circle play their little games while she kept to the outskirts. She was growing restless waiting for him, the urge to barge inside and ask where he was, growing by the minute. But at long last she was rewarded.

Cassian stepped, or stumbled rather, into the room with a grin plastered across his face. His dark hair was mussed, likely having fallen out of his bun hours ago, and two bottles of wine clutched in his hands. The room let out a cheer at his entrance, and Cassian handed off one of the bottles to the Morrigan. Azriel made to reach for the other one, but Cassian waved him off, uncorking the bottle with his teeth before drinking straight from it. She could have sworn she saw a look of concern pass between the Shadowsinger and her sister as they watched him, but Nesta was not interested in them. Her gaze fixed upon the male seated towards the end of the long couch, his hand gripping the wine bottle like a lifeline. 

She had said she would take one look, but she was a liar. She could not move even if she tried, her eyes greedily drinking in the male she looked for in every window and every sky. Her focus snagged on his lips, remembering the soft touch of them against her own on the battlefield. How often did she feel that phantom press in the late hours of the night. He was dressed in a dark red sweater this night, one that clung to the contours of his large frame, as if to torment her. Nesta could not help but imagine trailing her fingers over the material, what it would feel like, what the skin beneath that sweater would feel like. 

Cassian let out a booming laugh at something that was said, loud enough for her to hear through the window, and never did she wish so much to have a device to bottle sound. But the smile that remained did not quite meet his eyes, which were intermittently flickering towards the door. 

The Night Court’s general was drunk, that much was clear, but something was troubling him despite the merriment he tried plastering across his face. The Shadowsinger clapped a hand onto Cassian’s shoulder, in what seemed to be a comforting gesture. 

So badly did she want to be the one comforting him, and yet hadn’t she been the cause of most of his misery when she was around? A sober realization made its way to the forefront of her mind; all she could do was cause him pain . Those beautiful dreams of their life together could only ever be dreams. The reality was that everything she touched had crumbled and turned to ash, but she would be damned if Cassian did as well. She needed to leave, go back to her apartment and try and forget this whole night had ever happened, for both of their sakes. Preferably with the assistance of alcohol. Nesta’s foot stepped back from the window, yet couldn’t stop herself from one last glance at the male inside.

Hazel eyes met hers from across the room. Shit. Cassian’s eyes blinked slowly before widening. There was the sound of glass shattering, as the wine bottle left his hand and dropped onto the floor. Shouts of alarm rose up from the rest of the inner circle, as they jumped up to help clean up the mess. Cassian’s form quickly disappeared out of the room, his hand bracing against the door frame as he pushed around it. She needed to leave, now. 

She scrambled backwards, towards the gate, snow hitting her shoulder from the tops of the bushes as she darted by. She rounded the outside gate and stopped out of breath, hidden by the tall bushes that separated the townhouse from the street. There was the sound of the front door being wrenched open and frantic footsteps down the entry stairs. She didn’t dare to breathe as the footsteps crunched closer, hoping they obscured her own.

“Nesta?” Cassian’s voice was soft, almost hopeful. She had expected him to yell out in his drunken state, alerting the whole inner circle of her presence, but he hadn’t. The quiet sound of her name from his lips was a different kind of bliss altogether, pulling at something deep within her core. Her lips parted, desperately wanting to tell him she was there, that she was ready to try together this time, but no sound came out. 

A second pair of footsteps followed from the front door.

“Cass? What is it?” Feyre’s concerned voice floated through the entryway. Nesta bit her cheek, to keep from making a sound. The only thing worse than Cassian finding her out here would be Feyre and Cassian finding her together. She didn’t think she could survive the look of pity she knew would cross Feyre’s face if she discovered her out here.

“I saw her,” His words slurred slightly from the alcohol, but were determined nonetheless. “I saw her at the window.” Feyre did not ask who it was he had seen, seemingly understanding, but she waited a moment before softly saying,

“I miss her too, Cassian.”

A weight had dropped into Nesta’s stomach, she could not bear to hear this conversation. 

“She was at the window,” Cassian insisted, “She was here, I need to…” he trailed off. Nesta’s ears strained for the end of his thought, but nothing came. Perhaps he did not know how to approach her either, also frozen by the neverending stalemate the two of them found themselves in. Feyre inhaled a slow breath, as though she were about to explain something difficult to a small child.

“Sometimes it can seem like we see things that aren’t actually there. Things that we want to believe are there, but they aren’t,” she said gently. Another moment of silence followed. Feyre tried again.

“Why don’t we go inside? I think Rhysand and Amren were going to pull out the chessboard.”

No reply came from Cassian. Had they gone back inside? Nesta didn’t hear the door slam shut, but her heart was beating so loud she easily could have missed it. 

“I think I’m going to stay out here,” His voice quietly sounded once more.

“Cassian–”

“Just for a bit,” He amended. Nesta could hear the smile he forced onto his face, “Go, enjoy your birthday, Feyre.” She must have listened, as after a moment Nesta heard the soft snick of the front door closing. It was agony being so few steps from him now they were alone, even if he did not know it. But she wouldn’t risk him, not again. So Nesta quietly made her way from her hiding spot back onto the main road, and for once she did not glance back.

The holiday lights in the street now looked garish against the soft white snow frosting the streets. Golden glows that had once emanated from the windows, now dulled to a pale yellow. The wind blew fierce as flurries turned blizzardous, but Nesta did not bother to close her coat against the chill. Already she could feel the press of a hangover against her forehead, the walk having sobered her from the peak of her drunkenness. With it, the starkness of her reality began to return, as though she had never left. 

But as she turned the corner to her apartment, she allowed herself one final solstice present. She let her mind drift to a world in which she had run from her hiding spot that evening and into Cassian’s arms. He would lift her up off the ground, and they would stay there intertwined, swaying with unspoken apologies to one another. She would bury her face in his neck, inhaling his pine and woodfire scent, and it would smell like home. Her home. 

One last time Nesta closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as though she would smell it now.

But only the cold rushed in.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hellooo

As per usual, I'd like to ask for some arsonist Neil/firefighter Andrew, I'm still stuck on Neil's whole ass gay panic to Andrew calling him cute. Also, the firemen light structure thingy was very funny because the pic totally looks like it could be Neil's

Anyways, thank you and have a good week : )

WIP Wednesday (9/25) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 238)

The call ends and Andrew rolls onto his side to get snuggly-warm in his nest of blankets and pillows. His best adult purchase, he thinks, is this bedding. He smushes his face into one of his pillows and lies there in the dark on the verge of slumber. But, just as he's about to fall asleep, his brain suddenly comes to life and he replays the call in his mind. Did he call 10 cute? Andrew thinks for a moment. Yes. He fucking did. What the hell's the matter with him? Andrew isn't the type to call anyone cute.

He lets out a sigh. Evidently, half-asleep Andrew is the type.

10 didn't call him on it. He must not have noticed. Good, good. Andrew wriggles a bit deeper into his cocoon and goes to sleep.

-

Andrew spends much of the next afternoon pondering a possible gift he could get for 10. He knows it's not needed, but he'll be damned if 10 gives him two presents before Andrew's gotten him one. (The gift basket full of chocolate was the first, of course. Andrew misses those stupid little cookies.)

But it's hard to pick out a present for someone he barely knows. Actually, he knows 10 quite well. He knows about his terrible past and his night terrors and love of fire. He'd guess he knows 10 better than anyone. However, the arsonist hasn't got any (non-arson) hobbies or interests.

Andrew likes to think himself a good gift-giver. Sure, they're usually practical ones. But they're good. The problem is, as far as he knows, 10 doesn't need anything.

See, last year Andrew bought Renee a new backpack. Hers was falling apart, so Andrew scoured the internet and found a duplicate. She loved it.

And for the station's Secret Santa, he drew Wymack's name. So he bought him a nice cushion for his chair. (The old man was constantly complaining of back and hip pain. Andrew fixed it.)

Last Christmas, he and Aaron hadn't exactly been close enough for gifts. Andrew had considered buying him a new remote for his Xbox, because he'd been complaining about it during their calls with Nicky. But he didn't want to shell out that much for a man who hated his guts. So he didn't.

The only other gift he bought last year was a pair of noise-canceling headphones for Kevin, who'd been struggling with the nosiness of planes and team buses. Until Andrew fixed it. (He likes fixing things.) Oh. Speaking of Kevin, Andrew really should thank him for the sweater. He won't. But he should. The asshole. How dare he know Andrew looks good in green before Andrew did. Bastard.

In lieu of a thank you, Andrew sends Kevin the photo he took of last night's outfit. Less than a minute later, his phone nearly vibrates off the table. Renee looks up at him, concerned.

"Everything okay?"

"It's just Kevin."

"Ah." Renee nods and looks back down at her crossword book. From the look of it, she's only got a few left. Maybe he should get a new one and leave it laying around the station. Andrew makes a mental note to do just that and picks up his phone.

Kevin Damn. See, I told you. I fucking told you that would look good on you. Is this the first time you've worn it? I think you could try it with jeans too. And a smile. For fuck's sake, Andrew. You look like the most bored person alive. But good. Really good. I love being right. It's a hobby of mine. Are you not going to answer? Asshole. Andrew Excuse me for taking thirty seconds to reply. Some of us have actual jobs, Day. Kevin Exy is my job. Andrew Exy is your disease. Kevin Which I get paid for. Do you like the sweater? Does this mean I get to buy you clothes now? Andrew Do whatever you want. If you buy me something, I might wear it in three years. Kevin You suck. But you really do look good in that, Andrew. It suits you well. Andrew Stop flirting with me. Kevin I'm not flirting with you, idiot. By the way, Jeremy also says you look nice. Jean thinks you should get those pants hemmed. Andrew Are you going to get opinions from all your teammates? Kevin No, just the ones I live with. Where are you going? Have a date? Andrew It was last night. Went over to Aaron's to 'meet' his girlfriend. Kevin Oh. Do I need to post bail or...?

[raphsmuneca]

𝓔𝓮𝓷𝔂, 𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓷𝔂, 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝔂, 𝓜𝓸𝓮

[Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe] The Introduction

NSFW/18+/suspense/romance/softsmut/agedturtles

Yes, I’m back! 💕

The Introduction

𓆉✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

‘It’s been 5 years now?! Well damn.’

For five unbearable years you’ve had to put a clutch on your womanhood because of the world’s most dominant MAJOR DICKS! Their names? Jerk, Asshole, Pansy, and Half-Wit!

Jerk, aka Leo, ughhh…. What is it with his monarch-like superiority? Given your exceptional teamwork, he’s never satisfied. If his balls were cowbells the resonant clanks would create structural damage to the roads that kept Manhattan’s traffic flowing. You’ve never seen a whiner less creative than he. When you first met him he was vehemently constructing new schemes for the new world of criminals, but now? He is just as boring as his daily cup of tea: green, no milk, no sugar, no steam, just cool green tea. Bleh!

And what of the orifice of all arses, you ask? Care to venture a guess? No need! He’s the one caricature in your mini series of sketches that remains as solid as his “musk-les.” Parodying his temper should make him easier to describe, yet he remains the same insufferable individual. No imaginary weapon or wily tool could crack through that thick skull. He was like that hidden underwater kingdom Aquaman was reaching for; except you lacked Atlantean armor and power. ‘Damn you, Raph!’

Then there’s America’s unrevealed gifted scientist and mathematician, “Dr. Pansy, MD.” He’s Mozilla’s next Firefox “X.” You’ve been treated like nothing but a demi-decade, shrinking violet by this blind scholar. He’s a walking firewall! You speak, he hums. You cry, he hums. You laugh, he hums. The same bland expression on his face makes you question both your humanity and belonging. His focus is strong, but it’s never on you. There was a time Donnie would join conversations to be heard, but now he's as unresponsive as a deaf mule.

And then there's the “half-wit” - I'm not mincing words!! He's obsolete and shows poor judgment, failing to consider the consequences for the rest of us. Are you all emotions and no substance, Mikey? He’s 25 and still can’t grasp the concept of responsibility! I know he means well, and his heart will forever be in the right place, but we don't need a showman; we need someone to hold down this fort since it's falling apart. And, as crazy as it sounds, he's the only one who can wake the rest up. Let's be honest, Mikey's the bass of this beat, and without him, there's no sound.

……

Here we are, after one of our misadventures led us to a faraway planet, at an unknown time, arranging our pre-planned escape, but I must choose to wed one of the four aforementioned idiots. However, with a twist of their own alien-like minds, they have decided that before my chosen one and I can marry, we must first make amends and recreate a romance for their benefit. They possess the technology to alter the ending, yet they permit the victim to select an ending of their liking before taking the next step, which, under my circumstance, means we are trapped in this hell. For their honeymoon, the newlyweds are allowed to travel anywhere in time only this once. That's our one gate! We've been stranded here for three weeks, with all escape attempts unsuccessful.

This is it! I have to choose one of these duds and pretend to care in order for us to make an escape; the problem is, which one do I choose, and how does that story play out?

I managed to convince them to let me tell all four untold stories before making a decision to improve our chances, but, why is it so difficult to go through with this? Because in the last year my bond with any of the turtles has declined. I struggle to hold conversations with them, let alone pretend romantic interest, even if our lives are at stake!

I’ve got quite the parody in my sketchbook, but they lit a candlestick to my ass with this one!

Here we go…

(Part 2 Leo’s Version <-)

Parts 3, 4 & 5 will be added accordingly… DO NOT REPOST!

@thelaundrybitch @eveandtheturtles @margoteve @m1dnyt3-w0lf @raphslovemuffin80 @leosgirl82 @happymoonangel @replicasey @inspiredwriter @fyreball66 @dressycobra7 @avery73 @raphaelsrightarm @android-cap-007 @moonlightflower21 @waterstar2016 @iheartchv @foxflamewarrior

[oddmawd]

What is the dropped Monet story about?

i'm so happy there are curious minds out there omg (இ﹏இ`｡)

THE DROPPED MONET PLOT:

My first draft of the story outline included this additional subplot.

After meeting the princess, Doflamingo sends Monet undercover to infiltrate the castle and become one of the princess's maids. He uses Monet as a spy to keep an eye on her and report back on her activities. Monet confirms for Doflamingo that the princess was indeed the kingdom's secret strategist. She also confirms the princess is carrying a romantic torch for Doffy.

To spur the princess's affections, Monet secretly brings the princess more books, tells her stories of things she's missing on the outside, and slips nuggets of pro-pirate propaganda to the princess whenever possible. She also disrupts any would-be arranged marriages and informs Doffy of anything that might endanger his plans for the princess during their time apart. (I have a note that she might poison one of the princess's would-be suitors.)

In the canonical story, we learn Doflamingo was spying on the princess while they were apart. Monet was intended to be his main source of information. Upon getting married to Doflamingo, the princess was going to be allowed to take one maid with her, and of course she'd pick Monet...who would soon reveal she was one of Doflamingo's spies all along. WHAT A TWIST!

So why did I cut this from the story?

Main reason? Exploring this plotline just took up way too much time/energy/words. Do you recall the scenes at the start of chapters 3-5 that detail the months Doffy and the princess were apart? Those would have had to become fully standalone chapters between each of the princess's meetings with Doflamingo in order to make room for Monet. We'd have to introduce her, set up her relationship with the princess, show the books Monet slipped her, watch the princess's curiosity grow in response...

And while this would have been cool (cool enough for me to want to write these scenes as bonus material, even), the reveal of Monet working for Doffy all along wasn't going to have a big enough emotional payoff to be worth the investment of so many words, almost entirely because THE STORY IS A FANFIC! The audience, who have seen One Piece and know who Monet is, would have immediately clocked that she was a spy for Doflamingo, making the "big reveal" fall flat.

(Incidentally, this is also why I structured the main story to have the marriage take place in chapter 1, because the big reveal of "Joker" being the Pirate Warlord Doflamingo all along would have also fallen completely flat had I told the story linearly. Fanfic and original work have different challenges, that's for sure.)

The "big reveal" of Monet's allegiance would have come around chapter 6 or so (or maybe chapter 9 considering the extra chapters I would've added) but since it would have lacked punch, why waste time on it? Plus, afterward, we would have had to have more scenes where the princess processes her emotions about Monet's betrayal/lies, and that would take up even MORE time and pull focus from the princess's true emotional journey: her feelings for Doffy. In the end, all that juice just didn't feel worth the squeeze.

But here's some pro-Monet propaganda for you: A few people have told me this story felt like an original work. If it had indeed been one instead of a fanfic, I would have included the Monet plot for the additional reason of worldbuilding. She would have been able to clue the princess into things about the world outside the palace, making Monet's character a useful storytelling device. But again, this is a fanfic, so having someone fill that role matters a lot less.

SO YEAH ANYWAY THIS IS THE DROPPED MONET PLOT, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING ABOUT IT! maybe i'll write the scenes out one day...maybe there can be a massive "director's cut" of the story with all the additional scenes woven in LMAO SO MUCH WORK FOR ME BUT YOU NEVER KNOW!

[vellichorom]

Fuck- I forgot to add the following question to the last one SLWNWKWBS

But uhm,,, I was just wondering how you do your sketch progress if I may ask?

I always find it interesting To see how artists do their sketches and put down the shapes to archive their wonderful artworks! (And I feel one can learn a lot from seeing the progress :0)

-💜🐈

OHH WELL, WHAT A QUESTION... 💕

i don't think i do it much differently than any other artist really... especially in more RECENT years when i've leaned more into more of a " traditional artist process " rather than just being the most insane person & drawing from nothing,

because i used to do that. no sketch, no skeleton, no regard for anatomy, no pillow, no NOTHING & let me tell you. i'm better mentally for changing that

( no nothing on the left vs used a presketch / skeleton / structure on the right )

okay maybe you can't tell because these were drawn years apart anyway BUT BELIEVE ME ONE OF THESE TOOK MORE PRE SETUP THAN THE OTHER & IT'S NOT THE ONE ON THE LEFT

hi everyone who's been with me since 2018

ANYWAY. THE CURRENT DAY PROCESS;

STEP 1 ) the " beta sketch "

my clients will Especially recognize this term & these shapes;

SEE HOW THIS LOOKS LIKE A LOT OF BULLSHIT NOTHINGNESS? i usually start with This Nonsense to get a good feel of the pose / situation i'm working with / to give a poor client working with me some idea of where i want to go with their request;

this is the starting phase to put an idea in everyone's heads but everything is plenty subject to change;

NOW, STEP 2 ) uhhhhh beta sketch part 2. thumbnailing maybe

NOW i start shaping the ball of clay i've birthed a little more, NOW i start taking anatomy, structure, the final positions & expressions into account according to how i or a client may want them;

this is the stage JUST before linework so the majority of changes are usually done Here. this is still obviously way messy but Much more coherent ( at least to people who are me ) & what i imagine professionals deliver to their clients first as to save time. i however have plenty of that & will harass you with every passing second

STEP 3 ) linework !!!

HOWEVER clean or messy it may be, this is the lineart stage! the second to last course! this is where the BIG SHIT goes down & everything falls into place; everything's WAY cleaned up, the picture is Almost done, & well- you get the idea,

STEP 4 ) heueheuhsijhruigrjhdihirednguerhgiudf DONE

this is where the final colors & details & SHADING & WHATEVER needs to be incorporated comes into play, OF WHICH INVOLVES LIKE 3 ADDITIONAL PROCESSES but i consider this just One Big Step considering it's all relative to me & i don't even stop to BREATHE once i hit this stage

& THEN WE END UP WITH THE FINISHED PRODUCT! just like that!

of course, it maybe takes a bit LESS depending on the seriousness / level of detail necessary for each piece, maybe i feel more than confident to skip right to the lineart & cook, BUT THIS is USUALLY how the process goes!

& i'm sure there's someone out there who probably laughs at me & thinks they can do better or quicker or sexier & TO THAT I SAY

ok cool

MAY THIS HAVE BEEN AN ENTERTAINING & / OR INTERESTING READ FOR YOU! because god knows i have as much trouble explaining this as any marvelous thing i do

THANK YOU FOR YOUR CURIOSITY!

[birchbow]

Gamzee often refers to himself as “pan-rotted” due to his sopor-eating habit as a wriggler (and so does pretty much everyone else at some point). He told Kurloz that he has to really focus in order to remember mission instructions a few chapters back, I think? Gamzee doesn’t have a great self image, but it seems true that he’s often slow to draw inferences unless he’s already paying attention for hints about something specific. Like his default awareness is a little more diffuse, and he has to put in deliberate effort to narrow it down on a particular problem? He attributes this to the sopor, and so does everyone else. What I’m asking is - sopor aside - does being neglected by a lusus affect a troll’s brain development? (Beyond emotional stability and the ability to form secure attachments, ouch.) Since lusii don’t talk I’m not sure about language acquisition but maybe lusii respond positively to grubs babbling? Sidenote: the fact that Gamzee has the scriptures memorized so well almost feels like his chronically understimulated pan grabbed these abundant in-person interactions with authority figures in his early schoolfeeds and ate it up like starving. Sorry this is so rambling 😅

I'm incapable of being brief, especially when I get long asks with lots to chew over, so here's a readmore!

SO There's a moment in canon where Gamzee outright says "[sopor] rots you. Rusts your motherfucking thinkpan." and I think it's up for debate to what extent that's true but also it does seem pretty reasonable that heavy/consistent drug use throughout your adolescence would leave you some cognitive issues!

(Although also, as a person who tests super well in things I intuitively Get and am interested in, but often feels slow and dull, can't fit certain subjects/concepts into my head, and has a hard time remembering all the steps of things I want to do,,,, I put a lot of myself into my characters, is what I'm saying lol.)

RE: not having a lusus, I think that probably would have way more effect than the kid who went through it would assume, yeah. Like, all trolls would know your lusus keeps you safe from predators/intruders, gives you early practice fighting/wrestling, and especially in more rural areas, scavenges and hunts for you especially when you're young. But trolls as a society definitely undervalue the part where they also provide a sense of security and affection, because you're not supposed to want or value those things as a troll!

It's hard to make direct connections since lusii only sort of resemble human parents, but there's certainly studies to show that children of neglectful human parents struggle forming the cognitive pathways they would otherwise establish, and have trouble later in life--even if your caretaker doesn't talk, it seems pretty reasonable to me that having a parental figure who fucks off for long periods of time and leaves you completely alone with no idea when they'll be back would have a pretty similar effect across species! I'm not well-educated enough on that topic to draw the parallels I would want to, but it feels like a solid theory.

Also, quite apart from any of that, there was definitely a chain of cause and effect from "dad doesn't want me and there's no food" to "...but I have sopor slime" to "this makes me less hungry and also I give less of a shit about how hungry and lonely I am" to "if I stop eating this I feel shitty and have a hard time thinking straight and there's like a decade of repressed emotions under there".

RE: scripture, one of the things that I see original-flavor/canon Gamzee do is be all in on his religion, and when that falls out from under him, reorient to the first convincing power he finds, which unfortunately for everybody is the whole mess of Doc Scratch/Li'l Cal/Lord English. It to me feels very much like a guy who has no idea how to make his own ideological support structure, and is desperately looking for someone to give him a belief system and set of rules to follow.

ANYWAY SO hopefully it's fairly clear how that carries forward in a universe where instead, he gets a supportive church that helps him sober up and channels all his deeply-repressed rage into "hey, those aliens over there need conquering, go kill em", and also he's offered these books that are like. The rules. And knowing them gets him approval, and reassures him when he feels like a fuckup, and it turns out he can learn things, if they're things that fit in his brain right, and that's reassuring because he genuinely thinks most of his failings are his own fault for wanting sopor, and Alternian addiction support boils down to "do that again and we'll cull you" so they sure the fuck don't have a compassionate attitude about recovery or good information into after-effects, so everybody else is also just like "yeah, probably you fucked up your brain, idk, git gud".

This is a very lengthy way of agreeing with you lmao. The feedback loop of "oh you're pretty good at this" from authority figures, and it being a topic that he naturally had an interest in, definitely is a big part of why he's so deeply into it.

[devsgames]

The Art of Feedback

(This post cross-posted from my Patreon. Please consider supporting for access to my unreleased game prototypes, devlogs and blog posts just like this one. It helps me pay rent and supports the work I do!)

The biggest, most important ability anyone working (or hoping to work) collaboratively in gamedev should have is giving targeted feedback.

I'm not saying "you should be able to honestly tell people that their work sucks", but rather you should be able to elegantly and politely express in what specific ways their work could use improvement and, most importantly, why you believe the feedback to be valid.

In my opinion this is a lifeline skill anyone working in games needs to have.

Not being able to give polite and targeted feedback is something that sets apart an amazing dev from a competent one, and generally will make your critiques feel less like an opinion and more like a fair and specific analysis of a feature. It's what separates A Random Gamer Online complaining about a video game apart from an actual dev identifying pain points on a piece of work.

So how do you do it?

Consent

By far, the biggest thing to remember about feedback in my opinion is that feedback is all about consent.

When giving feedback you need to be positive that all parties are aware and on the same page about the feedback and its role in the conversation, and that the party receiving the feedback even wants it in the first place.

There's been countless times I've had conversations in the industry where it was obvious someone was receiving feedback that was not wanted and didn't consent to it - whether it was way too premature, focusing on the wrong part of the feature, not wanted in the first place or coming from someone who may not have been desirable to hear feedback from.

How do you navigate this? Simply ask for consent first.

A simple "Are you interested in feedback on [x] feature?", or "Is there anything you want me to focus my feedback on?" should usually suffice. If yes, give feedback. If no, don't bother!

Not only does this establish a clear line of consent, it also ensures your feedback is useful and you're not giving feedback that will fall on ears that don't want to hear it.

Empathy

Receiving feedback for many people can be intimately personal. Everyone has things about their work that aren't satisfactory, and entering into territory where you're pointing out these flaws can be devastating if not done correctly. There's an assumption that "honest" feedback is the way to go, but "honesty" can be a double edged sword and there's a lot of devs who deal real damage to others under the guide of "just being honest about feedback". Good feedback should be presented in a way that the recipient can take it to heart without feeling hurt. These are not mutually exclusive ideas.

To avoid this situation, the "compliment sandwich" is a time-tested method. Soften the blow of critical feedback by pairing it with compliments before and after, which allows you to deliver the feedback without it feeling like a direct attack. It's rather soulless to say "you should always talk like this", so of course this is not the end-all-be-all, but it's a good starting point for understanding how to deliver feedback in a way that doesn't harm.

In fact, I've found the structure of compliments doesn't matter as long as you're keeping the mindset of being constructive and in a 'building up" mindset about your feedback, and not a tearing down one. Usually I aim to incorporate one point of critical feedback with one compliment is often enough to soften the blow in many cases.

As an example, saying "I think your placement of the car needs work" feels colder and tonally more harmful than "I love how your use of trees to direct the player through the space, but I think the placement of the car needs work". See how those could read differently?

Additionally, you can change up your method depending on the person you're speaking to and your relationship to them.

For example, first impressions based around feedback are important. If you're giving feedback to say, a peer or student you've never talked to before, leading with complements is key. If you've been in a feedback session for a while the conversation might naturally veer into being more or less critical at certain stages, and you may find striking a constant balance of compliments may not be necessary. If someone seems defensive or upset, it might be wise to pile on some more compliments to make them feel more at ease. If you're giving feedback to someone you've know for a long time and given feedback to before it's possible you may be comfortable enough together that you may not even need to compliment at all!

TARGET

I really want to emphasize this point because this is how you make giving feedback an efficient task. If you don't know what specifically the person receiving feedback wants to receive feedback on there's a good chance you'll end up giving feedback on absolutely everything about the game, and ignore the elements that need feedback the most by doing so.

I've been in this situation plenty of times: a feature in your game is only half-implemented compared to the rest of the game, and instead of focusing on giving feedback about [x] new feature your playtester instead spends 15 minutes talking about the feature that is lacking despite the fact you already know it's missing. The feedback isn't about the thing that you as a developer need feedback on the most, and instead covers territory you're already well aware of.

As someone giving feedback, consent comes back into this. Ask "Do you need feedback on [x]?", or "What do you need feedback on the most?". This puts the ball in their court to identify what you should look out for, as opposed to you playing through and simply pointing out flaws in everything regardless of context. It also means the feedback session is going to be more effective at targeting what they need help with the most, and will be most beneficial to them in the end. In context like meetings and student feedback sessions where time is limited, this is vital to ensuring you're not wasting anyone's time.

Another way to improve the targeting of your feedback is to ensure you understand your subject's goals, and tie your feedback into that. Without this your feedback can be wildly off-base.

For example, if your subject is making a project to learn new implementation techniques, it's not going to be useful to provide feedback about their game's polish that would be more applicable to someone, say, trying to ship a game. Asking what your feedback subject's goal is with their project - or even just ensuring you address that and have a surface-level understanding about what those goals may be - is going to put you in a position of understanding what kind of feedback to give.

With this knowledge in your pocket you can now give feedback through a narrower filter that will more effectively improve their work.

"Why?"

"Why?" is the single most important question you need to attempt to answer when giving feedback. Answering "why" is how important changes get made.

Anyone can say "I think [x] feature needs to change", but not anyone can identify why it needs to change, or in what capacity. There's nothing worse than receiving feedback where a director says "I didn't like this feature" and they fail to address why they think that way. Especially as a designer, "why" is a fundamental idea needed to back up any approach you might have to changing or implementing designs - and it's why designers are often in a better position to identify changes than the average player.

Before you give a piece of feedback, ask yourself "Why do I think this?", and be prepared to include that with your feedback.

"I don't like the way the movement feels because it makes it hard to keep the enemies in my sights" is vastly more useful than "I don't like the way the movement feels". It gives what you at least believe is an actionable, and the person receiving the feedback now has a problem they may need to consider going forward.

There's truly nothing more aggravating than hearing - "I don't like this thing" without a reason why. That why needs to exist because if it didn't people would simply be making changes for no reason except "the vibes are off", and a vibes-based approach isn't exactly a sustainable one from a development angle.

Conclusion

The best feedback is when it addresses specific targeted points that are relevant to the recipient's context in a way that isn't going to be harmful to them! It's not a matter of simply saying anything that comes to mind however you want, but addressing relevant pain points that will best help them improve their work. ✌️

[the-lunacy-system]

Headmates

Mel

Pronouns - she/her Gender - trans female Sexuality - demisexual/bisexual Age - 15 Origin - born with the body, not sure what the word for that origin is Role - host Note(s): Usually frontlocked, has most of the external memories as a result [M1]

Cornelius

Pronouns - he/him Gender - cis male Sexuality - idk he won't tell us Age - 500+ Origin - fenigenic Role - physical protector/geographical archivist/scout Note(s): was an English soldier in his past life. He won't say more than that [M1]

Meyeki

Pronouns - she/her Gender - trans female Sexuality - asexual Age - blurry, ~16-17 Origin - quoigenic Role - dysphoria holder Note(s): can be a bit rude at times. She often makes me voice train when she's in co-con [M1] I think she'll be less rude now, thanks to those talks I had with her. [M3]

Michael

Pronouns - he/him Gender - cis male Sexuality - pansexual Age - 23 Origin - introject (OC) Role - order keeper Note(s): was one of my's OCs at first. Was a king back in his source world. Easily annoyed by lack of magic in our reality [M1]

Wraith/Basil

Pronouns - he/it Gender - demiboy Sexuality - omnisexual Age - 16 Origin - Basil (Omori) fictionkin Role - might become a co-host if he continues its recent patterns for long enough Note(s): Wraith was torn apart in Origin by the subconscious shortly after forming. It barely made it to the safety of Bright Field. It's been slowly healing. [M1] NEWS, GOOD AND BAD! GOOD: WRAITH SUDDENLY GOT A BIG BURST OF HEALING AND REMEMBERED EVERYTHING! BAD: WRAITH REMEMBERED EVERYTHING (poor guy, that's a lot of trauma to suddenly remember) [M1]

Bill

Pronouns - he/him/chaos Gender - "Why do you want to know, Golden Boy?" (I, Michael, was the one that asked him) Sexuality - (Because of his response to the gender question, I'm not even going to ask) Age - hundreds of millennia Origin - introject (Gravity Falls) Role - none yet Note(s): Already a handful. [M3]

Headspace

Bright Field

Bright Field is the topmost layer of Headspace. It consists of a white void that has a sort of ground. At the center of Bright Field is the Control Dome, a hollow black metal dome that houses our fronting interface. Across from the Control Dome is the Tavern, where most layers of Headspace meet. Inside the Tavern there is a bar that gives us access to likely symbolic beverages, some of which can trigger emotions on command. Nearby is the Link Arch, a stone archway that holds a portal back to Michael's source world. As far as I know, only he can use it. Floating in circles around the other structures of Bright Field is the Memory Library, two bookshelves filled with memories from everyone in the system constructed on a small floating island.

Origin

Origin is the layer directly below Bright Field. It is the layer where new headmates form, and, as we learned from Wraith, is one of the places where the subconscious is capable of harming us. The easiest way to get in or out of Origin is through one of the doors in the Tavern, but there are other ways (the same goes for most other layers of Headspace)

Fiction Space

Fiction Space is by far the largest layer of Headspace, and is the only one that can be interacted with without the need to actually be in the layer. Fiction Space is, as the name suggests, where a lot of the fiction made and consumed by us is stored. Fiction Space is far too vast to be fully described, even individual regions of it are incredibly complex because of how much time we've spent building it.

Headspace Facts

There are gaps in the fabric of Headspace that can be used to travel to other layers without having to return to the Tavern

Bright Field is the only truly safe layer of Headspace. The other layers can injure and even kill headmates

Headspace only lets those it deems skilled enough to survive traverse all of the layers

If the body is listening to music, it will be played in all of Bright Field as well

Our Gimmick Blogs

@locibarpulo-official

@omnisec-archive

DNI

Anti-endos, anti-tulpas, homophobes, transphobes, aphobes, the Fr*nch, pedophiles, zoophiles, anti-furries, people who ship Dipper and Bill (Gravity Falls), and fully nsfw blogs

[rearranged-fanfic]

Chapter-By-Chapter Part 1; The Prologue - Unfinished Painting

Blog Masterlist

Links:

Read on Archive of Our Own

Read on Wattpad

Read on Quotev

Read on Fanfiction.net

*Spoilers Below*

This fic starts off incredibly melancholy. let's properly set the tone, shall we?

"When death strikes, it’s sometimes a long, slow cut.  And sometimes, it’s swift as the blink of an eye.  It does so efficiently, without remorse, and without discernment.  We all die, in the end."

This is the opening paragraph, the reader's first impression of the story and of our protagonist. We cut to Reader-chan (our Reader Avatar) in the hospital directly after her mother's death. There's a sense of shock and upset, but ultimately, resignation.

We know from the story that her mom had been sick for a while.

 "It wasn’t sudden, nor was it unexpected.  Mom had been sick for a very, very long time."

"Mom’s death had been a slow cut, festering over months and months until it was long overdue."

This is something she's been preparing for quite some time now. But there's still the undercurrent that she's not dealing well. You'll notice that she has no support structure; there are no others in the hospital with her.

Reader-chan is very much alone. She has few friends, and most of her family is distant or has since passed on.

"I was nineteen when I was made an orphan."

"After Dad had died unexpectedly from COVID complications..."

"And then [the younger sister] become an adult.  And she’d left me behind without a backwards glance."

I know you're thinking, 'Author-san', why would you give us such a depressing start? This is so sad'. And, primarily, it's to ease the transition when Reader-chan transmigrates to the JJK world. If she'd have had a family who loved her and supported her, would she have wanted to stay in her new world - which, in this story, is portrayed in an incredibly dark way? For me? I'd say not. I'd claw and scrape and scream to get back to my family, hot fictional men be damned.

When isekai stories have protagonists that just go 'this is my life now', it really tanks my immersion. Especially when they're supposed to be serious dramas. Comedies are a little less glaring, because there's a suspension of disbelief that allows me to excuse more. But dramas? Oh boy, if you have family in your old world, you'd miss them too.

So, her losses before the start of the main story justify her lack of desire to return home - because it is something she struggles with in the first few chapters. Not only that, but it also reinforces her mental strength. She lost her dad and mom within a few years of each other and her sister is globe-trotting, so what could I possibly throw at her that's comparatively worse?

A character that has less to lose or less to return to is easier to manipulate emotionally for the author. There are less hangups, less connections to keep in mind, and less loose ends to tie up when the isekai inevitably ends.

Not only that, but the grief she experiences gives readers an immediate point of connection with her. Most everybody can identify with the loss of a loved one. Whether it's a parent, grandparent, or sibling that has passed away or simply lost touch, that sort of mental anguish resonates with humanity on an intrinsic level. We, as the readers, see her pain and understand it.

And we want to see her pick herself back up and move on from this.

We go from the hospital to her apartment, where she unpacks the last of her mother's belongings.

Reader-chan reveals that she'd been taking care of her mother before her death, for some unknown amount of time. And, in doing so, had let her own life fall by the wayside.

"I’d been able to see my ribs at one point, and my collar bones had become pronounced in the v-necks of my shirts."

"I’d neglected other things, too."

"An easel and canvas lay covered in the corner of the room, doing little more than collecting dust. [...] My book collection was little more than decoration at this point, too."

"I’d just lost my job. [...] I’d gotten fired for taking care of her."

"I wasn’t exactly qualified to do anything else, since I’d dropped out of college [to take care of her mother]."

Things like her health, career, future goals, hobbies, and interests were all discarded. Reader-chan, in dedicating her life to her mom, had completely derailed it.

This is the characterization we get of Reader-chan: she's toxically altruistic. Reader-chan is an incredibly kind person. She's hard-working, fiercely loyal, and selfless. This is to set up not only her desire to save those around her, but her own personal conflict within the story itself.

She can easily be viewed as a doormat, letting others take advantage of her. She bends under pressure, gives pieces of herself with terrifyingly little asked in return, and is unconcerned about her own wellbeing. Which is... very much not okay.

Despite this, we see that she's surprisingly resilient when faced with seemingly-insurmountable odds.

"And I resolved that I was going to go back into the store and talk to my boss"

"I could’ve started doing murals for the businesses in town again. [...] I could’ve paint windows for offices or the brickwork facades downtown, or done commissions for smaller pieces [to pay for her expenses]."

Reader-chan almost immediately starts to make plans to get back up onto her own two feet. Which shows that she's mature for her age, and able to deal appropriately with setbacks as they come. She's also not prone to getting overwhelmed and giving up.

Cut away again, and we find her in the parking lot of her old job, intent on talking to her boss to get it back. And she's trying in vain to get a hold of her distant sister.

She leaves a voicemail, to no avail. And for the first time, we see her truly angry...

"Snapping in anger, gripped the phone so hard that the fragile class façade threatened to break.  Part of me hoped it would, that spiderweb cracks overtook it and the screen shattered in my grasp.  So I’d lose her number and never have to call her again.  Then I’d never have to see her again, either."

... and her immediate regret.

"I’d never see her again, just like Dad.  Just like Mom."

"Was that what I really wanted?  … Maybe not."

Because, despite the fact that her sister left her behind, she still very much loves her. And, if she cuts her sister loose, she really will be all alone.

I included a strained sibling relationship because, initially, I wanted there to be something that Reader-chan would be conflicted about. Should she rekindle her relationship with her sister - forgive, forget, and move on? Or should she hold a grudge in her heart, even if it leaves her miserable?

When she gets isekai'd, the conflict becomes: should she put forth the effort return home to her sister, knowing that their relationship is only hanging by a thread, or resign herself to her fate in her new universe?

We catch a glimpse of fandom. We know that Reader-chan enjoys a myriad of media, but that it's fallen by the wayside in recent months.

"Only a few manga volumes had been touched, when I’d take them to the hospital to read with Mom; she’d liked looking at the pictures."

"On the rearview mirror, little chibis of my favorite anime characters hang and jingle together."

I made eye contact with tiny Tsunade from Naruto [...] the blindfolded gaze of Gojo [...] next to Levi Ackerman.

So we know that she has a keen interest in manga, specifically, judging from her collection and from the characters she keeps in her car.

After getting off the phone, frustrated and angry with her sister, she attempts to calm herself down by reading through her curated stories page. Which leads to this:

"And I saw a headline titled 'JJK: Fan-Favorite Character Killed in Battle', with a picture of Sukuna next to it."

"Out of curiosity, I clicked on the article and scrolled down, looking for the manga panels in question."

"Because it wasn’t Sukuna dead.  Gojo Satoru had been bisected, cut clean through, and left in a pool of his own blood."

Reader-chan reacts like this:

"“Th-that’s not possible, right?”  I inhaled through my nose.  Out through my mouth.  Trying to calm myself."

"I stared at [the tiny Gojo keychain] for a bit, and yanked his chain off the mirror, tossing him into the back seat where I couldn’t look at him anymore.  Then I pressed my face into the backs of my hands and screamed at the top of my lungs."

"Because the universe was so fucking funny that it had to play some sort of cosmic joke on me.  Because Gege killing off that character just had to happen now!"

Up until now, we've seen her handle everything with a surprising amount of grace. We can tell that she's deeply upset by the loss of her mother, sure, but she's putting on quite the brave face. Or maybe she's simply too shocked to be anguished. yeah... definitely the second option.

"I watched the doctors rush around like I was a thousand miles away, observed from outside of my body as they tried in vain to bring [her mother] back from beyond the threshold."

 "I went about my motions like I was piloting myself remotely."

"Even as I unpacked her stuff, I didn’t cry. I was just… empty, I guess.  Too tired, or maybe too shocked."

"I still didn’t cry.  Not when my whole world was collapsing around me."

But the moment she reads about Gojo's death, it acts as the metaphorical straw. And she's the camel.

"Unable to help myself, I laughed.  I laughed so hard that my shoulders shook.  And I laughed so hard that the laughs turned to sobs, and then to wails."

"I cried."

"It was ugly, and violent, and so stupid. [...] I cried for what felt like hours."

Initially, I was kind of wary of putting this chapter out into the world because of this moment. Because, yeah, her mom died, but she's going to cry over an anime character? That's the criticism I honestly expected.

"I was an idiot, losing it over some fake guy when I couldn’t even shed a tear for the woman who’d raised me.  And though I tried to stop, the waterworks kept coming and coming and coming."

But it makes sense in my mind, because we humans displace our emotions all the time. We get irrationally angry or sad at things and take our emotions out on them. Have a bad day at work? Get mad and kill something on a videogame. Upset? Watch a sad movie and cry about it.

I do this with 'The Fox and The Hound' all the time! I'll put it on and just weep until my eyes and head hurt. And, man, does it feel good! Like, on the days when my emotions are going haywire, like when I'm on my period, I just want to vent.

Gojo's death isn't what makes her sad enough to finally cry, but it gives her the perfect outlet for her emotions. It's a way for her to finally experience the emotional devastation of losing her mom without touching on the raw wound itself. It's a catharsis that she so desperately needs.

Crying really does help her. Sometimes, all you need is a good breakdown to realign your axis.

"And, little by little, I came back to myself."

"In the aftermath, there was a bit of clarity, of peace.  The buildup and the release of pressure. [...] Weight lifted off my shoulders and I felt a levity that I hadn’t in months. [...] I felt like I could breathe again.  Like my lungs were expanding properly and my heart was beating in my chest instead of my throat."

"Turns out that crying is good for you; who’d have guessed?"

After she cries, she picks herself back up and resolves to push forward. Starting with getting her job back, then ending with possibly rekindling a relationship with her sister.

This is one of my favorite parts of this little chapter because it perfectly encapsulates the whole vibe of 'post-nut clarity'... but for sobbing like a crazy person, obviously. Like, we all have that moment after we cry where everything just sorta clicks into place.

Reader-chan, for a solid moment, is standing tall. And she's putting her own emotions and needs first.

She calls her sister, getting out of her car. And while she's leaving a voicemail, she finally meets her fate.

"But I never got to finish my ultimatum.  The screeching of tires cut me off as I whirled around just in time to see the grill of a large truck barreling toward me.  And then there was the sickening crunch of bones breaking and somebody screaming."

This is where the isekai truly begins. Because when she dies, she winds up in a black void. And this void is where the next chapter opens.

We have a callback to our first paragraph.

"When death strikes, it’s sometimes a long, slow cut.  And sometimes, it’s swift as the blink of an eye.  It does so efficiently, without remorse, and without discernment.  We all die, in the end."

Keen observers may also notice that prior to being run down, the story is in past tense. Everything past getting struck is in present tense. This is to reinforce the idea that Reader's old universe and life are permanently 'was', while her new world and life permanently 'are'. A little bit of author psychology for you guys.

There's also one of my favorite side stories ever in this: 'The Saga of The Shopping Cart'!

"I scowled when one person pushed their empty cart into another parking spot instead of the cart return.  Idiot."

"A gust of wind blew the loose shopping cart in front of me, and I let it cross before making my way towards the building." 

"Because that shopping cart had blown onto the road, in front of a vehicle going way too fast. [...] And in a bid to avoid hitting it, the driver had cranked their wheel.  And hit me instead."

I love this introduction chapter, because I feel like it gives us a solid foundation for Reader-chan. We immediately know what her motivations are, how she reacts in the worst situations, and whether or not we'll personally identify with her during the series. It also sets the tone really well, in my opinion: dark and sad with a shining glimmer of hope on the horizon.

The title, 'Unfinished Painting', is a reference to both her neglected work in her apartment and to her life being cut short before she can be fully realized.

"Every morning, I gave [the easel with her painting] a nasty side eye, wondering when I’d just get rid of the stupid thing.  Maybe it’d be good to start fresh on a new piece."

"I [..] crossed over to where my easel had remained untouched [...] The painting on the canvas was half-finished, a work-in-progress that’d never quite made “progress”.  It was an ambitious landscape painting: colorful sunrise breaking over the Colorado Rocky Mountains, with clouds encircling the highest peaks and rays caressing the jagged edges of the cliff faces.  It’d been detailed, almost obsessively so, and vivid."

"I traced the edges of the painting fondly.  It was supposed to be my best work yet.  And it had been.  For a time."

The parallels become even clearer when digging into the color symbolism of red paint.

"[..] in a fit of rage, I’d thrown an entire tube of red paint at [the painting].  Crimson splatters dot the scenic mountains like blood spray."

"All the hopes and dreams inside my head smear across the pavement like paint spatters on a canvas.  Just a red, red stain."

But, there's also the implication that death isn't the end. That she can take this and make it better.

"The painting wasn’t necessarily ruined; I could still restore it if I worked hard."

"Maybe it’d be good to start fresh on a new piece.  If I ever found inspiration to draw or paint, anyway." 

When we consider that 'The painting' is acting as a parallel for her life, it essentially changes this to mean 'My life isn't necessarily ruined; I could still restore it if I worked hard.' And 'Maybe it'd be good to start anew. If I ever found the inspiration to live, anyway.'

Which all points to the idea that a fresh start is, perhaps, a good thing?

All-in-all, I'm super happy with how this turned out. Of course, that could just be my own personal bias, since I wrote it. Who can say?

[greenteabelle]

oh , to be gifted with the blessings of life herself , armed with an unbreakable vessel and formidable will , only for you to stand by the side , helpless and alone . 

q!foolish never thought of his immortality as a gift , a blessing even less so . it sends disgusting shivers down his spine , to look someone in the eye only to find a bottomless well of greed in them , so he’s long grown used to moving from one place to another . never staying too long , never striking up a conversation unless absolutely necessary , never leaving without a coat of beige delicately painted on his skin . because he can’t get attached to them . he won’t . 

he won’t be able to refuse them like last time if he does . 

so q!foolish wanders throughout every corner of the universe . and sometimes , just sometimes , he’ll come across kind folks who offer him a place to stay , providing a warm bed and steaming food ; the company is comforting , though he always leaves when daylight breaks . by the time they find his empty bed , nothing of his presence remains . 

( except a few gold nuggets sufficient for years worth of food , but who's to say it's his ? ) 

then he receives a ticket , how they managed to find him still remains a question , for a train to a quaint island he’s never come across , which is yet another mystery he’s yet to solve . so he boards the train and meets people both familiar and unfamiliar , who barely blink at the sight of his aurelian skin , and wonders if he can truly be free . 

then he meets sweet little leonarda , and for the first time in his life , thinks of his powers as a blessing . 

with his totems , q!foolish is able to always ensure that his beautiful child is safe from harm no matter what happens . it’s fine if they don’t often stand in the spotlight , or if they're more often than not dismissed , he’s content to spend time alone with leonarda as they build new structures , leaving a physical mark on the terrible island with their own memories . 

oh , how foolish was the totem of undying , for fate has never been so kind to her children . 

the skin on his knuckles crack and split , yet q!foolish continues to bang at the invisible wall as he screams for his child . they won , didn’t they ? they won . why won’t they let go of their eggs ? why won’t they let him reunite with her ? 

why ? 

as the earth begins to shake and tremble , q!foolish digs his nails into his side and rips a chunk out , uncaring of the cracks that rapidly begin to spread across his body . as it glows and morphs into a totem , he desperately presses it against the wall with both hands , begging for leonarda to take it . he can feel himself falling apart , parts of his limbs crumbling into dust yet he persists . 

“ leo ! please , why can’t i give this to you ? leo ! ”

then the familiar sound of a gong deafens his ears , and by the time he opens his eyes again …

… leonarda’s gone . 

she’s gone . 

his child .

his wonderful child who he has yet again failed to protect . 

gone . 

“ leo ? ”

no one answers . 

because the totem of undying , since the beginning of time to the tomorrow that will always arrive , can only protect himself . 

no matter how hard he tries .

[thevalleyisjolly]

Another theory: Sutekh is an aspect of the Beast (from Season 2 "The Impossible Planet"/"The Satan Pit"). Apart from being voiced by the same actor (Gabriel Woolf), both Sutekh and the Beast use very similar language when they speak. Compare the words and the cadence of their speeches at the ends of "The Impossible Planet" / "The Legend of Ruby Sunday."

The Beast:

These are the words of the Beast. And he has woken. He is the heart that beats in the darkness. He is the blood that will never cease. And now he will rise. […] He has woven himself in the fabric of your life since the dawn of time. Some may call him Abaddon. Some may call him Kroptor. Some may call him Satan or Lucifer. Or the Bringer of Despair, the Deathless Prince, the Bringer of Night. These are the words that shall set him free. I shall become manifest. I shall walk in might. My Legions shall swarm across the worlds. I am the sin and the temptation and the desire. I am the pain and the loss and the [unclear]. I have been imprisoned for eternity. But no more. The Pit is open. And I am free.

Sutekh:

He has hidden in the howling void. He has hidden within the tempest. He has braved the storm and the darkness and the pain. And he whispered to the vessel. All this time, he whispered and delighted and seduced, and the vessel did obey, for none should be more mighty and none should be more wise than the King himself. And the Lord of Time was blind and vain, and knew nothing. But in every dream, I’m there. [...] And standing on high is the mother and father and other of them all. For the god of all gods has returned. And his names are many. His name has been Set. And Seth. And Sithifer. And his one true name for evermore is… Sutekh! Sutekh is the god of death, and by his hand, all creation shall fall into dust and ashes and ruin! I bring Sutekh's gift of death to all humanity. I am Sutekh, the god of death. I am the night. I am the terror. I am the loss. And all life will perish at my hand! […] I bring Sutekh's gift… of death… for you and for all your tiny, vile, incessant universe!

Both speeches are similar in cadence and structure. The way they switch between third person and first person. How the speeches are structured - the entity stating where they've been; the targeted attacks against specific characters (cut from the first excerpt but the Beast makes jabs at different characters while Sutekh calls the Doctor "blind and vain" and boasts about how little he knows); the assertion of their presence; the announcement of their titles; the declaration of their intent; a personal reassertion of their powers. There's a claim to omnipresence, and specifically an interfering and personal omnipresence - "He has woven himself into the fabric of your life" vs "But in every dream, I'm there." The cadence with which both the Beast and Sutekh have their servants announce their titles, with each name given its own moment of emphasis. The specific syntax with which they boast about their claimed spheres of influence - "I am the sin and the temptation and the desire. I am the pain and the loss." vs "I am the night. I am the terror. I am the loss."

It's relevant to note that "The Impossible Planet" / "The Satan Pit" were written by Matt Jones, not RTD, which to me makes it far less likely that the similarities in language are a case of "same writer, same writing style 20 years later." And particularly with a finale two-parter and how deliberate everything is, there's seems something very intentional about how much the speeches and the style parallel each other.

Other coincidences/possible points of connection:

Both the Beast and Sutekh use similar tactics, possessing/planting sleeper agents in place ahead of time, who are then visibly transformed as their masters speak through them to announce their presence

The Beast claimed that it had "woven himself into the fabric of your life since the dawn of time." The image of Susan Triad was woven into the Doctor's travels across time and space, no matter where he and Ruby went

Carla, upon seeing Sutekh in the Time Window, exclaims "I know its name. It's the Beast!"

When Colonel Chidozie is murdered in the Time Window, he says "I am lost. I am in Hell. It's seen me. It's seen right into my soul. And it's so old..." Both the Beast and Sutekh explicitly claim to be "the loss" in their speeches and both claim to be inside people's lives/minds. At the same time, Sutekh's realm isn't really associated with the afterlife, either in ancient Egyptian mythology or in the Doctor Who universe. What is explicitly tied to the concept of Hell though - Satan, one of the identities claimed by the Beast, and...

In "Pyramids of Mars," "Satan" is said to be one of the names that Sutekh has had. Also, in "The Satan Pit," the Beast claimed to be all the devils of every religion, the truth behind the myth. If Sutekh was ever seen as a Satan or devil figure (according to the in-universe lore), then according to the Beast's claim, he should be the true idea behind Sutekh.

In Ten's monologue to the Beast, he says this line, "I've seen a lot of this universe. I've seen fake gods and bad gods and demi-gods and would-be gods, and out of all that, out of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing, just one thing, I believe in her." Sutekh, in "The Legend of Ruby Sunday," makes a point of listing a pantheon of different god-like entities, many of whom the Doctor has faced before, before saying "And standing on high is the mother and father and other of them all. For the god of all gods has returned."

Sutekh claims to have hidden in "the howling void." The Beast was defeated by being sent through a black hole. Black holes in science fiction are often theorized to be gateways to other universes, while the Void in the Doctor Who universe is specifically said to be the space between universes, dimensions and realities. The Tenth Doctor also explicitly states in "Army of Ghosts" that most people call the Void "Hell." In addition, the genre shift and the Toymaker's re-introduction into the universe was instigated by the Doctor and Donna's encounter with the Not-things in Doctor Who at the very edge of the universe by the Void.

Outside of the in-universe lore, I think RTD said somewhere in an promo interview that he'd been planning some of the things in this episode for a while? As mentioned above, Gabriel Woolf voices both Sutekh and the Beast - what's interesting to note is that Sutekh came first. Gabriel Woolf was the original voice of Sutekh in "Pyramids of Mars" and was much later cast as the Beast in the 2005 revival before now reprising his role once again as Sutekh. Perhaps RTD was playing with the idea of bringing back Sutekh at some point and laid some potential foundations by casting the same actor in a similar role, just in case the opportunity arose in the future to organically take the story there?

[EDIT] Also, in "The Impossible Planet," it was established that the Beast's writing was beyond the ability of the TARDIS to translate. In "The Legend of Ruby Sunday," it appears that Sutekh is powerful enough to overpower the TARDIS.

I've seen a couple of early reactions to the episode commenting that as per Sutekh's lore, he's a very powerful Osirian but not necessarily any greater as a god-like figure than the other entities he mentioned. However, if Sutekh is one of the Beast's aspects (perhaps the Beast first insinuated himself into Sutekh's mythology when Sutekh first began gaining power and then later took over the Sutekh identity more fully when they both found themselves in the Void?), his claim of ascendancy over the other gods carries a little more water - the devil figure across multiple belief systems, one constant idea made manifest in this entity.

Does it make a narrative difference if it's really the Beast behind everything instead of Sutekh? As of yet, probably not - the stakes are still extremely high either way and neither of these entities want good things for the universe. The only thing I can currently think of that might give a reason for the Beast as the real hidden antagonist is the Doctor's assertion during "The Satan Pit" that out of all the gods in existence, he believes in Rose. If Sutekh is the Beast and is specifically seeking revenge against the Doctor, one of the biggest blows he could try to deal him is to attack his faith in his companions by revealing that Ruby was his vessel all along - Susan Triad did not seem to be aware that she was Sutekh's tool until the end, so Ruby could very genuinely not know (or remember?) that she was part of Sutekh's grand design.

In any case, Sutekh's speech just tickled something in my brain when I heard it, and I found it interesting how similar the language and the style of his reveal was to the Beast's speech at the end of "The Impossible Planet."

[nestavadavat]

Nests "Oh god how to get my long fix actually plotted" Guide for the Damned

If you’re someone like me who’s wanted to write a long-fic but has had a really hard time this is the guide for you.

So the main problem I encountered while trying to plot out fics was that I didn't know what plot points I should meet! When we’re young y’know you’re taught the beginning-middle-end type of story structure, maybe a basic version of the hero's journey. If you don’t already know that follows the;

Exposition > Inciting Incident > Rising action > Climax > Falling action > Conclusion

Now at least for me it was kind of hard to use this for fics! Mostly because this isn’t a structure built for romances! The structure I’m showing you I found from this article which I built on! Feel free to just go wild with this structure honestly!

(PS you can also use the hero's journey as outlined by this article but I don't particularly find that layout helpful!)

So here’s your rundown! Long read ahead!

(BIG TEXT) The Hook

Meet the protagonists, give your story a theme, etc! Now because I’m adapting this for fic, you actually have less work to do here. But let's say you’re doing an AU, you need to establish to your readers what situation your characters are in! What's their everyday like, what's the new change in their life that makes your story relevant?

You’ll also want to set up your issues! Maybe you’re writing about Dean Winchester, you’ll want to establish his daddy issues to come up later. If you have a twist in mind this is where you’ll want to lay your little crumbs.

Inciting Incident

Whats changing? This is where your characters should meet properly. Now’s when you establish their dynamics.

Are they enemies at first? Maybe they’re instantly making heart eyes at each other. The article I’m basing this on says it should be about 9,500 words, but you may not want this, so generally it should probably be in the same chapter as your introduction to the character/s. Maybe have it continue into the second one. This is your setup!

Plot Point 1

Our article talks about how your characters should be “stuck” together. You can do this literally or figuratively depending on how quickly you want them together. This just means you want to give your characters a reason to be together. Maybe they’re roommates now, they’re trapped in an elevator, or they’re working together.

At this point personally I’d want to have your characters starting to be attracted to each other if they aren’t already! You want to start giving your readers those swoony type moments where they want the characters to get together! Also define what the characters want, or give hints. Do they want a relationship or are they focused on something else? (Already have in your mind whether or not they’re going to get to that goal or change their mind)

“Pinch Point” 1

Now’s when you start getting into conflict. Now this could be internal or external conflict.

Is someone keeping them apart? Is one character too afraid to go into a relationship? This is also when you maybe want their first kiss, or a semblance of something building between them. They should start falling in love/being drawn more to the other character.

Maybe they share a moment, or complete that work project, maybe they carpool home together after something! Just give them reasons to be together and reasons for that established conflict and goals to come up.

Midpoint

Boom something new just happened. Our article tells us that this can be formed in a false-high or false-low. This should be when at least one character solidly admits (even if just to themselves) that they’re in love with the other character.

A false high means that it seems like everything is going super good, trick your readers! Maybe your characters sleep together or they have a touching moment. You definitely want this route to seem like an endgame where they're all happy.

A false low means that your readers should be thinking “oh my goodness how are my blorbos supposed to come back from this”. Maybe that love confession goes poorly, or they get in a big argument, or something goes poorly with one of their goals!

“Pinch Point” 2

More problems!!! This relates back to your characters conflict you set up in the beginning. Maybe they need to make a big choice related to their goal or something from their past comes up. Maybe your characters are getting closer still but this conflict should be brewing.

Your character should be nervous about their relationship because of these conflicts. This should blend into the midpoint, so these conflicts are starting to arise during for false-high or false-low and maybe creating a strain on this newfound love.

Plot Point 2

More stakes! Your characters really can’t catch a break! This is when that thing your character was afraid of actually does happen! Maybe there's a misunderstanding, or their plans fall through. The article says that this is the moment when your character should be going “i knew better than this”.

This is when your readers should really really think that there's no way the characters can come back from this. Maybe they call it off or split up because of all this not-so-sexual tension created. The characters have to chose between wanting the relationship or being afraid (and its super heartbreaking and compelling when they chose fear btw)

The Crisis

Now your characters need to choose. Is it worth it? The answer to this for your main character is usually “yes”. This is when they should start looking for their solution to their big problems and start learning and changing. (Character arcs <33)

The Climax

Yay they got back together! Your theme has been explored, and their problems are solved/being solved. Usually this means a big gesture like a love confession, a proposal, something big and dramatic that makes your heart ache. Your readers should go feral rn!

The End

Now’s when everything gets tied together. All of your characters big plans come together. You may want to timeskip forward to show us their lives. Happily ever after and all!!!

———

Thank you for reading all this! Just as some ending notes, a lot of these points probably blend into each other. Also feel free to mix these around, this was mostly a way for me to really get this into my brain so I can practice it more but I hope this also helps other people who may struggle with finding a plot structure for longer romance oriented fics!! :)))