#this is why i don’t outline

[pendinganchor]

in case anyone wants to know how writing this fic is going

i’m literally going to throw up

[bastard-of-a-bog-being]

Me: “FINALLY! I have the perfect scene to write for my novel! I’ve watched it all the way through and it is a MASTERPIECE I’ll just write it up when I get home. Oops, since I don’t feel good, I’ll put it in my notes app, but like, Summarized.”

My notes app, later: “S insists A needs to know his family’s history of illnesses because it’s important.

S goes to A’s dad’s church to demand list so A doesn’t have to deal with his father.

S returns with list.”

Me: “well, it played out more interesting in my head… but all right.”

[m0nochromem0use]

alley rose

my @jrwi-art-exchange gift for @honkceasar! i’ll be so honest i don’t know what i was going for with this one but i am happy with it so! happy pride! love loses! (flipped version under cut!!)

flipped version :]

[shy-sapphic-ace]

I really really really want to read a Oscar/Noel fic but I can’t?? find any?? I guess I have to write my own but it’s not the same :(

[floofysmallbob]

does anyone have any good fics where vi works for Silco and jinx was in Stillwater?

[luminousjellyfishy]

This took FOREVER but I FINALLY finished!!!

Cross-stitching takes a while (for me), but it’s so worth it

[gerbiloftriumph]

Lost and Found (ao3):

Grandpa’s story of the goblin caves started out familiarly enough, but as he spoke, the story started to twist and change. New friends, new conversations, and new ways to use old items transformed the tale, and the young king discovered new ways to be brave in the dark tunnels beneath Daventry.

(7.5/?) (confused? Chapter 7 went up a little early, missing its second half. Here’s that second half now!)

~*~

The goblin made to stand, and its injured leg buckled beneath it. It fell, and Graham instinctively caught its arm to help. It growled at him, and Graham stepped back, wondering if he should try to carry the goblin in his pocket. Maybe not a great idea. It would probably find the key Graham had shoved in there, and be in prime biting location. But if it couldn’t walk...

The goblin reached for its broken spear before Graham could make up his mind. The pointy metal top was already snapped off, but it was interested in the wooden pole, which it used as a sort of support, like a walking stick. It tried another step, and this time it managed a few trembly steps. The goblin blinked up at Graham, eyes watering and button nose dripping, but it grinned and graveled something at him, gesturing at the tunnels.

“Do you...know a way out?” Graham asked, warily. Still not entirely sure if the goblin could understand him or if it had just like the cadence of the fairy tale.

It shrugged, pointed, gibbered again.

Well. It wasn’t like they could just sit there in the dark forever, either. May as well. “Do you need help?”

It growled again, and put its nose in the air, marching past with a determined air.

“...okay, then. I guess I’ll follow you.”

The fairy tale detritus of abandoned storage continued even here. They crept past more props: cat sized boots. Candelabras with wax dripped all down them. Broken lanterns perfect for runaway princesses to carry into dark woods. The goblin chittered and pointed these out also, like Graham should think about working them into his next story.

At one point, it picked up a smooshy, rotten apple, probably rolled here from a Snow White game above them, and offered it shyly to Graham.

(“While I was incredibly hungry, I was not that desperate,” Grandpa said wryly, eying the mirror king’s disgusted expression. “My stomach rumbled, but I knew that was not edible.”

The mirror goblin didn’t seem quite pleased with Graham’s non reaction. It grabbed the king’s hand, yanked him down to the goblin’s level, and mashed the fruit against his mouth. Gwendolyn yelped, “Ewww!”

“Turns out, beggars can be choosers!” Grandpa laughed. “I chose not to chew!”

“That’s disgusting, Grandpa!”

“I’m just telling it like it happened!”

“I thought you were an unreliable narrator. This story didn’t even have Acorn and Whisper in it originally! You could be unreliable about this part too! I don’t need to hear this!”)

After scrubbing his mouth with the back of his cloak, Graham took the goblin firmly by the free hand so it couldn’t go grabbing more props, and the two of them walked relatively peacefully for a while. Sort of peacefully. The goblin kept up a rousing chatter as it walked, expressing all kinds of probably fascinating things in goblinese, which Graham could only nod along to, occasionally muttering, “Oh, really?” and “Mmhmm,” as though he understood a single word. The goblin didn’t seem to mind one way or the other if he responded, and it kept babbling. And babbling.

(“Hey, Grandpa?”

“Yes, dearest?”

“This part is going on really long.”

“So it is. We’ll skip to the important bit, where I found the dragon egg.”

“The what?”

“Ohoh, that got your attention, didn’t it? Yes, the dragon egg. Although, I didn’t know that’s exactly what it was at the time. It just felt important.”)

It was hard to miss, what with what felt like a spotlight of glowing mushrooms. A bejeweled oval stone, tucked into a soft bed of moss. The goblin kept on chattering, apparently oblivious to Graham’s hesitation—the king had stopped and was staring at the stone, but the goblin kept trying to walk onward, its feet sliding on the floor with no forward motion, its hand still firmly held in Graham’s.

(“That goblin was going on and on. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel rude interrupting.”)

“Hey, what’s this?”

The goblin said something or other in incomprehensible goblinese, with dramatic arm waving.

“Right, of course. Yeah. Totally.” Well, if it wasn’t nailed down.... And it looked important enough. Graham picked it up, rubbing his hands across it. It felt smooth and scaly at the same time. A fascinating, flawless stone. It glittered in the light as he held it this way and that, nearly iridescent. Very pretty. And, who knew, such things could be handy. Whatever it was. It was heavy, and it was almost warm in his hands. It felt comforting, somehow, to hold it. He slipped it delicately in his cloak.

Just a rock. A pretty rock. Probably.

(“Ehehehehe,” Gwendolyn squealed. “Why don’t we have a pet dragon in the castle, Grandpa? Where’d she go? She definitely hatched, right?”

“You may find out, with patience.”)

The rest of the walk was uneventful. Once you’ve seen one moldering goblin-sized princess dress on a headless mannequin, you’ve seen them all.

Graham set his last glittering bean, and was about to suggest that they turn around, that his path marking had reached its end, when the goblin yelped in delight, tugging hard on his arm, pulling him toward...a door in the wall. It was properly buried under fairy tale detritus, in such a way that Graham probably wouldn’t have seen it if the goblin hadn’t pointed it out. It sort of looked like goblins just threw broken props through the door and shut it again. Out of sight, out of mind.

He pushed aside the props gently, trying to avoid getting hurt on splintery wooden wizard staffs, trying not to further break already cracked crystal balls. Bells rang, shoes clattered, and at least one very real mouse squeaked and ran for cover. The goblin clapped excitedly, pulling a small hand-carved...something or other from the pile. Maybe a donkey. It had four legs, sort of. It was badly done, whatever it was meant to be, but someone had lovingly painted a smile on it anyway. The goblin dragged it back and forth across the floor in a vague cantering motion, making cooing noises.

This was sort of like a puzzle, he thought, as he tried to balance things so they didn’t fall on his head as he worked.

(“This part of the tale gets a little rocky,” Grandpa said, watching the mirror king balancing a bucket on top of a ladder, which was already teetering unsteadily on a pile of stones.

Gwendolyn sat up. “Oh, no, don’t—”

The pile of rubble collapsed with a ringing clatter, burying the mirror king, who gave a strangled yelp as he disappeared beneath a pile of trash. The goblin, on the other hand, leapt safely out of the way and watched dispassionately. A tarnished silver plate bounced and rolled past.

“That goblin’s armor was slate of the art,” Grandpa announced proudly.

“Wasn’t this originally supposed to be a bedtime story or something,” Gwendolyn said grumpily. “You’re not going to scare me to sleep, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

The puzzle reset in the mirror, as though nothing had happened. The mirror king tried something else, and again, the pile of rubble slipped loose and buried him. His hand clawed at the air for a second before a bucket clanged over it and he was gone completely.

“All I wanted to do was dig myself out of that hole!” Grandpa said.

“Grandpaaa.”

“Oh, am I bouldering you? I know what you’re thinking, that I’m out of rock puns, but give me a second to dig up some more.”

“Seriously, next time I need help sleeping I’ll just get warm milk instead of coming in here for a story.”

“Craters gonna hate.”

She groaned.

“Okay, fine. We should stop this story before it erodes any further. I didn’t stop to marble at my surroundings: I solved the puzzle first try.” And the little mirror king did so, this time, carefully scooting all the trash out of the way safely.)

Graham brushed aside a moldy piece of stage curtain, pushed open the door, and found a long tunnel. “This?” he said to the goblin. It chittered something, and it pushed him forward through the door.

The door led onto a steadily sloping path leading upward, well illuminated by the mushrooms. Newton stayed happily in his pocket, likely napping, and Graham and the goblin walked together. It was strange, Graham thought. To be walking peacefully with one of his jailors. Mostly peacefully—the goblin was still talking a million miles a minute, one hand holding the self-made crutch and the other moving the hand-carved toy up and down. Really, it was more like a child than anything else.

And it had been oh so easily distracted by a story. That was something well worth remembering.

Once they reached the top of the ramp, they pushed through a little gap in the wall, and Graham realized they had come out near the Frog Prince stage. He never would have spotted this entrance in the shadows. He might have been able to come here at any point—and in a route much less fraught than his discovered crack in the wall and slide down into darkness. Ah, well. Based on how forgotten it had seemed down there, Graham suspected the goblins didn’t particularly remember it existed, either.

He and the goblin parted ways, then, the goblin scarcely glancing at Graham as it hurried off to do whatever goblins did. And Graham, with his newfound coins, scurried off in the opposite direction, eager to finally get his hands on the best prize he could imagine down here.

“Merchant! How are you holding up?”

“These suspenders are helping.” The Merchant pulled himself up by his suspenders, and his very short shorts.

Graham made a face and sighed. “...thanks for that.”

“I mean, look. Our options here are 1: Buy, 2: Talk, 3: Move along. We don’t have infinite options here, okay? You want cute conversation, you go find that baker or something.”

“Alright, fine, option one, please.”

“Aah, what’re ya buyin’?”

Graham glanced over his shoulder before leaning in, whispering, “The good stuff.”

“It’s all good stuff.”

“Okay, the illegal stuff.”

“Me? With that? Never! Cross my heart and pray to all the saints and gods! Shame on you, boy, for asking for such things. Does your mother know?”

“Stars, Merchant, I just wanna buy that bow.”

“Oh. Right, right.” He plonked the case on the wooden slab between them. “Six shiny gold coins, eh? You got?”

“I got.” Graham spilled the gold out of his pockets.

The Merchant eyed the old coin with the queen’s profile warily. “It ain’t shiny, but I guess it’ll spend as well as anything,” he said, shoving it into some unknown depths in his trousers. “For your pleasure, Majestic, enjoy it. Don’t shoot your eye out.”

Eagerly, Graham grabbed at the wooden bow. It was rough, and ugly, and he missed Achaka’s bow all the more. This bow wasn’t worth six coins. It might not even be worth one. He tested the string with his thumb, tied it tighter, pulled the draw back, thought. He didn’t care for how it felt under his hands, and there was only one arrow, but with patience and a whole moat-full of luck, he might manage to make a single shot. Maybe. “I’m not going to be storming any castles with this,” he muttered.

“No refunds.”

[starstruckodysseys]

i am a very serious writer. ignore my outlines i’m very serious

my outlines:

[paimonial-rage]

I have a character analysis ask! :) (Although, it's not from the list you shared.) What would it take for Albedo to get really angry? Like a huge outburst? I have some ideas but I'm curious about your insights. - @mimi-cee-genshin

[Character Analysis Ask Meme]

This is a really interesting ask and I’ve been thinking about it ever since you sent it. There are three answers I have for you, but two are copouts and the last doesn’t satisfy the requirements.

The first two scenarios deal with the same thing: you scare him in some way. This can be achieved two different ways: Klee facing imminent danger that he can’t immediately mitigate and, if he cares about you, doing the same to yourself. Nothing scares a calculated person more than a sudden situation they have no control over. What this accomplishes is putting him into a state of panic. And, should everything be alright in the end, you can rightfully expect him to snap in fury before pulling you in for a hug.

However, the reason why I consider this a copout is that I think this kind of scenario would get most people to react in this way. And while he would be angry and have an outburst, I don’t really consider this scenario “anger.” It’s more panic, you know?

So that being said, I don’t really think it’s exactly possible to get Albedo angry to the point of having an outburst, at least in the typical sense. Albedo is not a burning fury kind of person. He is cold fury. When he gets truly mad, his emotions shut down and he turns into a heartless machine. Think of Scar killing Mufasa, except without the smile and glee. He’d look down at you with ice-cold eyes as he ever so casually pushes you back to lose your grip.

To get him into this state, though, I think it would take work. One possible scenario would be betraying him and then having everything go wrong. Not a cold calculated betrayal (he’d sense your untrustworthiness), but maybe one from fear? For example, he treated you as a friend, but upon getting threatened by the Abyss, you betray Mondstadt in fear of your life, and then whoops, people get hurt and/or killed. In that case, you both betrayed his kindness and ultimately disappointed him. He was wrong about you. You are no better than the dirt beneath his feet.

[gothsuguru]

getting an iced pumpkin chai in the morning and then my personal goal is to spend the whole day writing and i hope i can come back to this post tomorrow and rb w how much progress i’ve made!!!

[wiihtigo]

Would casey b a cowboy

YEA ^_^ I have a whole little role for her in a Justice riders au (plus nell of course) but I haven’t drawn much of any of it yet! This is basically as much as I’ve touched it with drawings

Putting her in the 1800s makes her a bit more pitiable because circumstances are less in her control. Ahh she can be a bit sympathetic just once I guess.

[wakkoroni]

hey so i saw your post about nico being happy and the line about him being manic: could you expand on that hc, I'm curious now you've said it

Heyyy sorry im kinda answering this a little late but id love to expand on it!

I’m glad you asked I was kinda waiting for someone to comment on that and I was going to expand on it and then… forgot- I actually had like a whole fic planned for it and never followed through because idk life happened or smth BUT

Just want to clarify that I have done research to the best of my ability and although this may not be the most medically accurate hc, it is a hc so don’t take it too personally

So manic episodes can happen regardless if the person is bipolar or not, someone doesn’t have to be bipolar to experience manic episodes. Sometimes highly stressful situations and trauma and cause manic episodes (both of which Nico very much has and if Nico is bipolar I wouldn’t be suprised but anyway-)

I don’t think the headcanon of Nico being manic is too far-fetched because have you seen him??? Like I just think it fits because he is pretty impulsive and I feel like there would be times where Nico just has really high energy levels (which is a good and a bad thing) and when it first starts Will is like “oh yay- are you okay?” Nico dismisses it as like “I’m getting better” and Dionysus is just staring at him like “I have news for you-“ and ruins his day

With the help of Dionysus he learns to manage it and Will helps out too by noticing the signs. Mania has different levels so maybe his might not be a high extreme so maybe hypomania or smth but it’s there.

It’s the little things that sell the hc really

Thanks for the ask! I wish I could explain how I got to this hc but I really don’t remember how- I just have the hc running around in my head

[jaggededges123]

is it perhaps time to do a little spring cleaning for my super old wips? perhaps

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Me: “Oh i don’t need more then a sentence or two for each chapter for my outline. I’ll have this done in like 5 minutes.”

Also me writing the summary for chapter 11:

They keep getting longer each chapter 😭

[afaroffsong]

wow studying for exams is really just as stressful as I remember it being.

[hardcorehashbrown]

it’s cool being a published researcher and all but answering reviewer comments is gonna be the death of me

like ik i’m stupid but getting comments from other stupid scientists who couldn’t even be bothered to properly read the manuscript makes me want to hack into the editors email and track down the reviewers so i can yell at them in person