#this still has a lot of errors but i've been fixing those for hours already

[zyketx]

gave a shot to drawing the precious adult tails design of @tsaikonautz

still figuring out how to draw this guy

[mah-t-wordblog]

STUPID JOKE

Lee: Gyuu Tomioka

Ler: Muichiro Tokito

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if you don’t like it, just scroll down

This fanfic is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Hashiras had the right to do stupid things, the pressure on their beings was too great, so they should be able to alleviate it somehow

But not everyone liked the stupid jokes.

Gyuu and Muichiro were those people

Although Muichiro Tokito's personality changed a lot after he returned from Swordsmith Village, he continues to refuse activities to relax his mind, but now with much more politeness, of course.

Gyuu Tomioka, however, has always been insensitive and always will be, just ignoring everyone and leaving the place right away.

But they were in on a little game now

“You two, now” said Tengen, who was probably the one who had invented it all

“I don’t want to” Gyuu countered

“Yeah, Uzui-san, I don’t want to either” Muichiro shrugged

“No one gave this option”

He placed them both facing each other

“You two are the only ones here who can last in this game” Kyojuro said

“We all always lose” Mitsuri laughed

This was the trio of games, Tengen, Kyojuro and Mitsuri, despite the rest not bothering to participate in them

Ah, you still don't know what the game is, right? It's nothing complicated, just:

"Try not to laugh!" Tengen placed a hand in front of the two “1… 2… 3…, now!” He took his hand away with a lot of drama

Muichiro's smile disappeared because he had joined in on the joke, and Gyuu's was never there

They just stared at each other without saying a word.

Kyojuro laughed “they were in on the joke”

Shinobu passed by and saw what they were doing

“I’m rooting for you, Muichiro”

‘Unnecessary’ Gyuu thought

And can you believe they were there for at least an hour?

The party trio was already tired of both of them

“They play too seriously” Tengen said and left

“Tomorrow we’ll see if they’re still there” Kyojuro smiled and left

“Whoever wins, tell us how it was!” Mitsuri waved and left too

The two remained there alone

“Do you want to continue this?” Gyuu asked the other

“Sounds intriguing”

“You came back different from the Swordsmith Village”

It came to light, as if it were an impulse, something involuntary that Muichiro had unlocked

“Thanks to Tanjiro!” he said smiling

Then he realized and covered his mouth

“Okay, we’re done” Gyuu got up to leave

"Hey! It's not fair, Tomioka-san” Muichiro held his arm “I wanted to win”

Tomioka remembered that Muichiro was still a child, and had the competitiveness of a

“But you laughed before”

“How boring!”

Muichiro poked Gyuu out of anger, making the other jump a little reflexively.

Gyuu looked at Muichiro without showing any concern, despite being very worried.

“Ah, Tomioka-san” Muichiro smiled “I had forgotten that you were ticklish”

He jumped on top of each other

Gyuu was startled, a shiver rising across his skin as Muichiro began to attack his sides.

“Now you’re the one who’s going to laugh, Tomioka-san, since you obviously cheated.”

Muichiro was never one to be mean when it came to tickling, but today he was feeling inspired

“Hpmf-“ that was all that came out of Gyuu’s mouth

“I've seen others attacking you so many times and I can't remember which place makes you explode.”

He tried the armpits, the belly, the ribs and nothing

“What will it be?”

Muichiro was very calm even though Gyuu was fidgeting beneath him.

“Oh! I already know"

He squeezed Gyuu's kneecaps

“OH NOHOHO”

"Here it is"

When Gyuu starts laughing he doesn't stop

“ENOHOHOHOGH”

“Ah, Tomioka-san, I was once a younger brother, I know exactly what it’s like to be in your shoes” Muichiro smiled

Gyuu was once one too, but there was no way for the boy to know

“STOHOHOHOP TOHOKIHITOHO”

Gyuu grabbed Muichiro's hands, the boy understood that he should stop

The man sat down and sighed, with a small smile on his face.

Muichiro watched him carefully

“At least admit that I won” Gyuu said, without seriousness, jokingly

“I know, this was my revenge” Muichiro smiled

They both got up and laughed a little

Then they walked away from there, talking to each other

They have a lot of similarities

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Thanks for reading 💛💛

[tmwcs]

Mermaids Tale - Chapter 1

Alright here we go. First chapter of Mermaids Tale, I think i already mentioned but this story deserves a better title, but we'll stick with it for the sake of ceasing any confusion.

As mentioned in my latest post, I'm adjusting the ML to post the whole storyline of MT, I must...its really quite good and when you read the buildup and the history of the characters, its good. For those of you that want just the good stuff, i'll post ONE chapter of the first smut encounter, just one. This story has alot of smut, among other genres. So there will the best of both worlds here.

Pairings: Heeseung and you

Warnings: Not a whole lot. Mentions of nudity but that's about it.

Summary: Noooooooooooooo....just know, that MT Heeseung is really...sexy. This storyline contains a cat and mouse chase type of thing going on. Lots of hunter and fleeing prey vibes.

Side note, i think they finally fixed my tumblr because posting is alot less of a pain. Seriously, the chapters i've posted so far for each series, some of the grammar errors and structure errors are bc this thing would not let me copy and paste, i had to like re-write each paragraph into the box as i was looking at the draft. So there may have been alot of typos and stupid mistakes in those, apologies.

The sound of the busy city buzzes in your ears as you monopolize through the crowds.

Passing by a line of shops and rows of canopy tents of casual eatery, you keep a hollow face as you remain hidden beneath the bill of your hat. You strut through, strategically making way towards the path of a shorter route leading to your home.

Your hair lays bundled up under your headpiece, eyes remain forward under the hovering cloth, and your body’s form, out of sight and beneath a large sweatshirt. The lengthy shape of your legs made out by the fitted jeans that cover them, and the slight exposure of soft skin on your forearms, revealed by slightly rolled sleeves, remain as your sole identifiable features that are seen.

Carrying out your habitual trend of hiding beneath cloth, and shadow when traveling hasn’t been the most pleasant routine.

However, throughout the course of events in earlier years, you’ve learned and been warned of, the dangers against you. For each time you leave shelter, you place yourself at risk of exposing yourself and suffering the unimaginable, putting an end to your bloodline.

The fate of your bloodline, as mentioned, solely relies on you. Carrying the task of preserving it comes with dire responsibilities and measures, something that you have been doing for many years, yet still haven’t grown entirely used to.

You turn around a corner leading into a marketplace alley. It’s a shortcut you normally take to get back home, saving you a half hour from walking among crowds, which never made you feel easy. Not after you learned of your secret.

The moment you projected the turn, the owner of one of the food tents accidently bumps into you, as he was making his way to customers bringing them hot jasmine tea.

His body was forced back from the impact, as was yours. The ceramic dishes that were neatly staged on the platter fall and shatter on the stone tile. The young man peeks up through recovered squinted eyes and sees that the contents of the teapot had sullied your entire sleeve.

Noticing the color of the material becoming darker from the splash, his face grew into great concern when he saw the skin on your arm glisten at the reflection of a nearby streetlight.

The vapors emerging from your arm are noticeable, as well as the blotches of the bright red shade that takes over the natural hue of your pigment, and the stunning glow you were born with.

He begins apologizing theatrically and calls out to the neighboring canopy owners.

A group of elderly shop owners come to attend to the wound on your arm, suppressing the discoloration with wet cloths and ice. One woman runs back inside her boutique to find a first aid kit, while the others remain in a frenzy as they place effort into treating the burn.

But there was no burn, at least in a somatosensory manner, not visually.

You reassure them that you’re fine, despite their urging in taking you to a hospital. You softly shake your head and thanked them for their care, you further your efforts in convincing them by smiling and waving, appearing as jovial as possible while you continue your way through the alley.

As a child, you didn’t realize that your inability to feel physical touch, vibration, or any sensation for that matter, was really something to be concerned of. Truth be told, you still don’t. In fact, you prefer it that way. Regardless of countless moments where teachers, friends, and family all grew concern over your “defect”, you personally found it convenient.

You would be lying to yourself if you deny ever being curious on what it is like, to feel temperature, roughness, pressure, tickle, itch, pain, pleasure, cloth, skin, and tingle. But you realize that whatever it was that you were missing, you couldn’t possibly be yearning for it if you’ve never experienced it. As depressing that may sound, your “defect” saved yourself the emotional traumas of pain and sadness, which is something you had no problems feeling.

It started when you were six, after your dog Lucy had passed away. You were sad because you missed her greeting you, the way she kept you company and played outside, and the sound of her adorable whines whenever she wanted a doggy treat. You developed a bond with her out of pure emotion because the times that she licked your face, when you pet and rubbed her ears or her belly, or when you held her in your arms, it wasn’t possible to develop any fondness out of the physical compassions of love for her. You never felt it.  Which somehow, you believe, may have placed limitations on the strength of your bond with her. Since everything you felt was out of pure emotion, the number of traits that would cause your grief was limited, therefore you were able to accept her loss much faster.

There were other times too, like the moments where your friends would experience a broken heart or betrayal at the discretion of a loved one. Events such as this is what made you the most grateful. After witnessing the times when a dear friend would come to you for comfort, shattered by the hands of a man who used and abandoned her, you came to understand that the degree of her sadness and heartbreak was enhanced due to her physical relation with that man. Thankfully for you, you could only imagine, not that you would.

You found it very disturbing that regardless of how many times your friend had experienced the ruthless abandonment of her lover, all conducted after a session of sexual intimacy. No matter how many times he left her, she would always welcome him back with open arms, enabling him to do it all over again. Whenever you had asked her why she would even permit herself to let him in again, her response was the sealant of any curious thought you had in the sense of touch.

“I know he’s going to leave, and I wasn’t going to. But then he kissed and hugged me, and I just couldn’t help it, I needed to feel him again. Have you ever gone without sex for weeks Y/N? Its brutal! I got desperate.”

Her words drifted through your brain. What would she have said if you had divulged the fact that, regardless of you being 109 years old, you never had sex. You heard from friends you made along the way of their experiences, and quite frankly, it never appealed to you. It may just be one of those moments where the coined term “you had to have been there” applies heavily to it, which of course, wouldn’t matter for you. The loss of the sense wasn’t just limited to your skin, it was internal as well. You recall the time when you nearly had a close call in exposing your secret.

It was while you were with a group of co-workers, the lot of you all deciding to have lunch at a sushi bar. A moment of carelessness resulted in everyone being confused when the waiter brought out the tea and poured it into each of your cups. You were the first to drink, and upon noticing you sipping from your cup, a fellow co-worker across follows suit and takes a sip.

The sound of the cutlery clashing, the blood curling scream, and smaller dishes shattering on the floor, overfilled the entire restaurant as she jumped up and covered her mouth. The tears streamed down her face as she shouts for ice and water, the remaining group stood off to the side with puzzling looks.

“Too hot! My mouth is burning!”

She panicked as her mouth begin to blister and her lips turned red.

“Why didn’t you let it cool down?”

“I thought it was already cooled down! I saw Y/N drink from her cup, so I thought it was okay!”

The poor girl exhausting her sobbing words as she popped ice cubes in her mouth, desperately trying to relieve herself from the burn.

The group looked your way, they also noticed your lips were bright red, and now that you think about it, you may have had blisters in your mouth as well, but how were you to know?

You played off that whole experience by telling them that you had a damaged nerve syndrome. That’s been your go-to excuse for as long as you could remember, there was no other way other logic that you could use for moments like that one.

You finally make it to your apartment.

Looking down at your arm, you noticed the redness was beginning to swell a bit, ironic that you couldn’t feel the pain from injuries such as this, yet you were susceptible to the damage it would cause. Everything has its ups and downs you suppose.

Migrating to your bedroom, you glanced over to the all the vintage photos of your mother, father, and your siblings.

Managing life by changing your name every decade, relocating, and cutting off ties with friendly relations after a certain amount of time had passed, it wasn’t easy for you to succumb to emotional moments of loneliness. Your life was always moving, nothing was constant or stable, at least not for too long. The only time when you would feel saddened was whenever you looked at the photos of your family, who have all been passed away for years already. The remaining relatives you had from your brother and his wife, your cousins, nieces, and nephews fully remain unaware of your existence, there was no way you could explain that, while they were significantly younger, your appearance had remained unchanged since the year you turned 22. The moment you blossomed into a young woman, no longer having the pre-mature attributes of a girl, you were at your true feminine form and had remained as such. Just like your mother.

A flashback drives past your mind for a moment, you remembered it so vividly.

“Y/n, do you want to join us? We’re doing game night.”

Your younger brother implores you to join, and normally you would, but tonight was different.

“No thanks Matthew, I want to go out for a night walk on the beach. Tell mom and dad I’ll be back after a bit.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to come with? I don’t think mom likes it when you go out by yourself, remember? She said that a 15-year-old girl should never be out on her own in an unfamiliar place.”

“I’ll be fine, this is private property, and the beach is just right across from the house. I’ll be back in an hour.”

At that, you left the old beach rental your family reserved for the trip to Greece. It was your first time there and it became your favorite place in the world. There was something about the land and the Aegean Sea that surrounded it. It gave you a feeling of familiarity, the same sense someone would get when they go home for the first time in many years. It was nostalgic. Yet, that wasn’t the only thing that made you feel sentimental.

You didn’t know why, but up until that year you pondered the puzzling fact that, while your defect inhibited you to feel physically, there was something about the ocean that contradicted that.

You had found out about it initially when you were 7-years old, your family took a trip to a beach nearby home. The hot sand was too much for your family, and they knew it wouldn’t affect you since the family doctor was the one that initially told your parents of your “nerve damage”.

Despite hearing their calls to you, bidding you to stay put with them, you ignored their yells and ran to the shallow waters. It was the first time you had ever seen the ocean, and you were attracted to its appeal the way magnets attract iron.

With your feet stepping into the water, you were shocked to realize that there was something transpiring. There was a sensation that you’ve never experienced before, and you didn’t know what to call it. Looking back, you know now that it was the temperature of the water. Yes, the temperature. Not only that, but the swirling whirlpool swishing around your ankles, the wet sand riding in between your toes, the jagged tips and points of rocks and seashells, and the feel of the gravitational pull as the water receded, only to return at your feet once more when another rolling wave had hit.

For the first time, you had felt the powerful sense of touch.

You never mentioned the experience to your family, there wasn’t any particular reason, you just felt content that you were able to experience the sensation for once. But you quickly realized that your ability to feel only occurred when you were in the water. The ocean waters.

You exit through the back kitchen door, skipping towards the shallow waves. The rental was just far enough from the water, a single person such as yourself walking amongst the wet sands couldn’t be seen easily at night. But you weren’t concerned at all, there was absolutely no one in sight and that’s how you preferred it, because now you’ll be able to freely express your joy once you reach the shallow waves.  

The moment the water rushed over your skin; you rediscover the sense of touch once more.

Of all things in this earth for you to feel, you were eternally grateful that it was the ocean. You felt as equally grateful as you breached the waters belonging to the beautiful Aegean Sea. It was the first time you get to experience water that was foreign, exotic, and mystical, much different than the local beaches back home.  

Before placing our feet in, you took a second to watch the bubbles of the sea foam riding the waves. It was so pretty to look at. The foam resembled white clouds as the bubbles looked like crystals, reflecting twinkles of glistening light reflected by the moon. Assorted pastel color prisms coated each bubble as you watched them roll back into the sea for the next wave.  

You walk along the shallow end, kicking your feet to create small splashes as you twirl in your summer dress. Apart from the sense of touch, nothing ever changed your experience in the water, up until a feeling hit you. It was a sensation you didn’t recall feeling in the water before, but it stung with a vengeance. You couldn’t put your finger on what was happening, but you knew based off your recollections of witnessing similar reactions with other people, the sensation you felt was the first in your life.

Pain.

The overwhelming reaction of having to feel pain for the first time caused you to collapse, the stinging sensation grew worse. You panicked. Unable to fathom what was going on, your mind tried to process at the sensation you were succumbing to. Drowning with confusion and fear, you realized that, unlike the waters back home, there was something about the waters belonging to the Aegean Sea, and your body was reacting to it.

Fear and shock took over your emotional senses, covering the unpleasant sense of physical pain as legs grew weak, too weak.

The stinging hit every inch of your legs from the hip down, and for a moment you wondered if you had been stung by jellyfish or perhaps bitten by a poisonous sea snake.

To your horror, you screamed as you looked down at your legs, finding that you no longer had them. Not anymore.

Instead, they were replaced with a long, graceful tail and fin. You shuttered in fear, noting that the lower half of your body was now covered with fish scales.

You couldn’t move from the sandy spot you were laying in. Your panic heightened as you attempt to use your upper body strength to crawl away from the water, but the pull of the waves as the tides rolled in enabled the receding sand to sink you down, practically gluing you stuck and your lower half remaining in the water.

As the currents grew stronger, and no one in sight to hear or see you, your body was slowly but surely getting pulled in deeper into the water.

Each wave dragged you in deeper, your whole body was nearly entrenched in the shallow water, yet it was becoming easier to move, so long as you were going in the direction of the deep end. You felt exhausted from fighting against the waves, so you laid there in defeat. Your wet hair was plastered all over your face, the transformation of your lower extremities caused the ruffle lining of your dress to shred.

Noticing that the stinging pain was no longer present, you closed your eyes and found comfort in feeling the soothing sensation of the water showering your entire body. The feeling that you normally enjoyed.

You closed your eyes and laid your cheek down on the wet sand before you, not sure if you just needed a break or if you had entirely given up and assumed you were going to die in that spot. Within seconds after closing your eyes, another wave rolls in, covering you entirely. As it pulls back, revealing every shell and rock that laid thickly underneath the sand, the raging current drags you one final time, fully submerging you in the water.

The feeling, opposed to what you felt moments earlier, was beyond amazing. Even though the temperature of the water was cooler, you felt warm and secured. The swooshing of the current wraps around you and glides against your skin.

Your whole body felt the touch of everything around you. The pale silver scales glowed contrasted against the shadowed depth around you. Considering how dark it was underneath the surface, your view was as clear as glass. Everything you laid your eyes on, you were able to see its finer details, no matter how small or large it was.

You could hear the echo calling of whales, even though they were meters from where you were at. It appeared that not only did you gain the sense of touch by being in the water, but your other senses remain unimpaired. They actually seemed enhanced under water.

As tempted as it was to savor the environment you were in, you started to get worried that your mother would come look for you, especially since your time outside was breaching the final moments of the hour. Though you weren’t entirely sure how you would go see her in the state you were in.

You swam back to the shoreline, although it didn’t feel like swimming, more like gliding. You found it was so easy to move in the water, and you were moving in a speed that you’ve never was faster than any moving car you rode in.

Beaching yourself as you reached the shoreline, you turn to admire the pale-silver color of your tail.

The fin was large and fanned out, the skin that stretched over the frame was semi-transparent, and it glistened with a sheer blend of pastel colors, the same as the seafoam. Two spurs outlined the out corners of the fin as it branched out, they were long, and the tips of them were sharper than any knife you’ve seen.

The scales on your tale all looked like nacre, or simply known as Mother-of-Pearl, reflecting the wide hue of colors to bounce off the silver base. The amount of scales lessened just past your pelvic bone, revealing the skin you were familiar with. Had there been more time you would have removed your dress to see how much had changed with your upper body if it did change. Yet you became more focused on figuring a way to get out of the water, then coming up with an explanation for your appearance.

Moving was hard, compared to how it was in the water, now that you had laid ashore it felt nearly impossible. Finding yourself stuck yet again, the only manner to get farther away from the water was to crawl using your upper body. Digging your elbows into the murky sand, you struggled to find some level of stable foundation as you felt yourself sinking in.

Noticing the partial burial of large rocks all around, you reached for the exposed surfaces, grabbing on to the points and edges. Using the moment of your body to shift in the direction you needed to go, you exhausted every effort by using whatever means necessary to get further up, closer to your destination. The sense of touch begins to fade out, disappearing the further you move away from the water. A bittersweet exchange.

Finally, you reached the dry mounds of sand. Grabbing a handful, you watch as the spilling of dry granules seeps in between your fingers, feeling a sense of accomplishment. You moved upward just a tad bit more, ensuring no part of you, to include the tail, was touching water.

You come to a sudden halt as a familiar sensation hits you. Odd, since you were no longer touching the water, yet the stinging all throughout your lower half re-emerges, and you could feel it just as strongly as you had in the water. You turned over onto your back and saw all the dry granules of sand that coated the scales of your tail. Witnessing the metamorphosis happening before your own eyes, you watched as the beige hue of the sand and the rainbow explosion of color from the scales begin to transform. The merging of colors gradually fades into a hue that matches your skin, while the two long spurs at the corners of your fin begin to recede.

Beginning at the inner triangular tip in the center of your fin, the skin separates, and continues up along the center of your tail, regaining the shape and length of your legs.

Was that all it took? Dry land? Or just being out of the water…these waters.

You didn’t tell your parents what happened that night, you didn’t know how. For the longest time, you wondered if it had been a dream or some type of hallucination. Yet the memory of feeling the water, listening to the whales, and re-visualizing the clarity of your sight, you knew that it was neither.

[townofcrosshollow]

How to Keep Your Twine Project Safe

It is a tale as old as time. The app crashes, your cache is cleared, your laptop breaks, and hours or days or weeks of work is lost. It's a terrible experience, and you never think about what to do in that situation until it happens to you- and by that time, it's already too late. So here's your prompt to get ahead of things and keep your project protected before something goes wrong.

So here, I'll be going over some layers of security you can use...

1. NEVER use the web app

I know this one's gonna be controversial. I know, a lot of people use the web app! It exists for a reason! But if you do, you're leaving your work very vulnerable.

When you use a local installation of Twine, your files are being saved to local storage. That means that everything is saved on your hardware, and with the exception of a freak event, it's not going anywhere. Don't get me wrong, those freak events aren't rare enough to dismiss (we'll talk about that later), but it's not quite as bad as the web app.

Instead of saving your files locally, the web app saves your progress to your browser's cache- the same thing that saves your cookies and keeps you logged in on websites. If your cache is cleared for any reason, your games will be gone.

2. Write your documents in a separate program

Chances are, if you're using Twine, there's a lot of stuff you can do outside of Twine before moving it into the program itself. A common practice is to write prose in a separate program, and then move it all into Twine when you're finished and write the code in Twine. This is a great way to back up your work, because if Twine has an error, you'll still have all the source files to reconstruct what you had before.

I'd recommend trying to use a stable program to write in. That means something that saves locally and doesn't frequently crash. In other words, do not use Google Docs. Instead of Docs, try one of these:

Microsoft Word (expensive, subscription, but stable)

LibreOffice (free, stable)

Scrivener (one time purchase, stable)

3. Back EVERYTHING up

I can not stress this enough. Back up your damn work. Back it up in multiple places if possible.

"Oh, but I'm using Google Docs, it's already backed up!" NO. No it is not. To keep your work truly safe, you need multiple copies hosted on multiple pieces of hardware. If one of those is a Google server, great! But if it's just one, that means that one single failure in that hardware (or the software associated) will mean everything is lost.

You can back up your files from the Twine program by going under the Build tab and selecting Publish to File or Export as Twee. Saving that to your device is already better than having it saved by the Twine app, but you'll be even safer if you back that file up to an external hard drive (or just a cheap USB drive) and a cloud hosting service like Dropbox or Google Drive. To make it extra safe and minimize lost progress, make sure you replace these files regularly.

That seems like a lot of work though, right? Yeah. So here's my final piece of advice...

4. Use Git

Git is how I've been backing up my latest project, Signal Hill. It's intimidating at first, but there are simple and easy ways to use platforms like Github to keep your work safe and fix big errors. To teach you how, I've created a whole separate tutorial, which you can find here.

[cocklessboy]

Finding the right meds or combination of ADHD meds can be one hell of a journey.

First my psychiatrist had me try Atomoxetine (an SNRI) but I had psychotic side effects so we had to ditch that.

Then we tried Ritalin. It helped, but I got loads of side effects. It made my heart race, made me dizzy and jittery, made my sensory issues worse, gave me acid reflux, and even increased my sex drive to problematic levels (which is not a normal side effect and may have been a strange interaction with my HRT).

Those are basically the only ADHD meds available in this country (no, we don't have Adderall or any of those other ones here), with one caveat: the active ingredient in Ritalin (Methylphenidate) is available in a slow-release form called Concerta. Instead of taking it twice a day and it being out of your system in 4-6 hours, you take it once in the morning and it lasts up to 12 hours, gradually releasing the drug into your system.

Even though it's the same chemical, the slow-release version worked like a dream. Basically no side effects aside from increased acid reflux (which I already take medication for), and it's pretty effective. Basically life-changing! The problem? It wears off around 8 pm.

I don't go to bed until like 1:30.

So for 5+ hours each night I'd be unmedicated and miserable. Unable to work, unable to do anything really, and also unable to keep track of time or switch tasks, so I never managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour.

I described this to my psychiatrist and he suggested that around 8, when the Concerta is wearing off, I can take half a tablet (just 5 mg) of Ritalin. It's not enough to cause side effects, but combined with whatever remains in my system of the Concerta, it should be enough to keep me functional until bed time - and make it easier to turn off the computer and go to bed.

I've been doing this for several days and... it's working. No major side effects, and I get a bonus 4-5 hours of actual real life functional time in my day, plus I'm able to watch the clock and shut down the computer and head to bed at the right time, which is helping me fix my sleep schedule overall (which had been a real nightmare for ages).

Finding the right meds or combination of meds for ADHD or for any other health problem (physical, neurological, or psychological) can take a lot of time and trial and error. But it is worth it. If you find yourself feeling frustrated because everything you try isn't working, don't give up. While it is true that some problems just don't have a solution, it is worth keeping at it for as long as you can.

I feel like this whole process has been a great lesson in not giving in to despair when things don't work out right away. I still have a lot of other health issues that don't have solutions yet, and it's easy to feel hopeless, but there are still more options to try. And maybe the next one will finally do the trick.

And if there's anyone out there trying to push you away from medication that helps you, because they think of medication as inherently bad, or because they think the side effects can't be worth it, ignore them. They are wrong. Finding the right medication for a chronic health problem or disability can change your entire life. Do not ever let anyone shame you out of being as happy and healthy as you can possibly be.

[simpforsnape]

Sincerely Yours.

Severus Snape x OC/Reader

wordcount: 2599

warnings: none, minor errors.

credit to the creator of this gif.

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Chapter 7

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The clicking of Anah heels echoed throughout the halls of Hogwarts. 'Somehow' Sirius Black has found his way into the school. It’s already known how he was able to get in. Remus. Speaking of, he went missing. From what she was told by Dumbledore, he forgot to take his potion. So he would be gone for a few days or so.

Still, things weren’t looking so good for either of them.

She paced the dark halls on with her search. What would she do if she ran into him? Fight him? Cry maybe? Who knew.

Her eyes met with a panting that settled on the wall. Since the school is magical, there no doubt that it was alive.

“Has anyone lingered around this area?” Anah questioned as most of the paintings uttered.

”Why yes M'lady.”

She turned to an old painting. It was an old man sitting in a rocking chair smoking a pipe.

”Who was it?” She questioned holding her light wand near the portrait.

The man adjusted his pipe before giving off a cocky smirk.

”Sirius Black M'lady."

She placed her hands on her hips.

”Where did he go?”

The elder man pointed over at the Ravenclaws stairs.

”That way I presume.”

She nodded her head in gestures of thanking him before making her way to the tower.

Instead of walking.. she started running. But why?

The stairs were literal hell. It took her almost an eternity to reach the top.

She came to the door that stood between her and the common room. The knocker settled there. She gave off a gentle sigh bringing her hand up to knock.

Of course, how could she forget about the riddle?

The knocker spoke.

"Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?"

Anah felt her eyebrow twitch, honestly, no one had time for this.

"A circle has no beginning."

The door creaked opened soon after.

"Well reasoned."

Anah stepped into the quiet common room. She held her lit wand up motioning around the room. The moonlight filled the room mostly, so it was hardly needed. While she gazed across the room she couldn't help but embrace the silence that was overhauling it. She noticed a presence in the corner of her eye standing in the veer of the room. It was Sirius.

He slowly stepped from the darkness into the light unveiling himself to her.

"Anahstacia..." his tone was rough.

She made a face. Mixed emotions were running through her. What would you do if you haven't seen an old friend in 12 years?

"Sirius.." She allowed a slight smile to peer on her face as the two soon walked towards each other to quickly embrace.

"You've grown.." He mumbled as the two pulled away.

Anah turned her head, doing her best to not weep. Sirius, along with the rest of the Marauder's Crew were brothers to her. Only two were alive.

"I have no words, Sirius..." She mumbled to herself soon walking over to the nearest couch. Sirius stood there, still in his prisoner's clothes. Of course, he didn't have such an elegant appearance.

"It is alright to not have any..." he enunciates the woman who then turned to him, whipping the single tear she shed.

"Why are you here.." She questioned with her eyes still on him. She heard him sigh at her question.

He moved to the settee across from her.

"Do you believe that I'm innocent?.." His question almost hovered over Anah.

"Yes, of course...”

He clasped his hands together as he then looked down at the blue carpet.

”I didn't give up Lily and James location.. it was Peter. Peter Pettigrew..He framed me.. For everything. Their death, the muggles.. Everything..”

Anah cocked a brow with her arms tugged around herself. Hearing him re-explaining the whole situation was anguishing, but he was only speaking the truth.

”But he's dead?..”

Sirius gazed up at the young woman as he shook his head.

”He is alive.. he's here..in the castle. That's who I'm after..”

But how? The only thing that was left of the man was a finger.

”Are you certain that he's here?...” she questioned again.

”I’m sure.. I just need a chance.. A chance to confront him..”

Anah was sat back into the confronts of the chair. After all this time, It was Peter who betrayed the Potters..

”Where is he?”

Sirius leaned toward the chair.

”He’s in his Animagus form disguised as a pet.. I've seen him in a picture with the Weasly’s..”

Anah hummed against herself.

”So.. You need to get to him?...”

Sirius shook his head as Anah soon stood up from her seat to extend her hand out to the man.

”I’ll help you...”

She paused again this time glaring at him. "But only for the sake of my Godson."

Sirius looked at the woman before shaking his head, almost as if he was worried.

”I don't want you to get dragged into-”

”Sirius, shut up and shake my hand.”

Anah’s face remained the same as she gestured to him to shake her hand.

Sirius hesitate for a second. He knew he could rely on the woman.

The two then shook hands agreeing on the hunt for Peter Pettigrew.

He chucked a bit as he now tucked his hand beside him.

"You know, Harry Potter is my Godchild as well."

She rolled her eyes ignoring his statement. Well, after all he was.

”I’ll be on the lookout, until then Sirius... Please be safe.. And if you ever need anything don't hesitate to ask alright?” a smile peered on Anah's face. The man in front of her stood up to embrace her once more.

”Of course Anahstacia, until then..”

She turned on her heels now heading out the door.

”And Anah..” Sirius called out as she quickly turned to him.

”Yes?”

”Thank you... For not attacking me.. Honestly, I was waiting for you to do so..” He grinned as his comment caused Anah to roll her eyes and smile.

”It was tempting, but.. I rather greet you with love than hate.. Now go before someone sees you..”

And like that, Anah left the Ravenclaws tower now heading back to the Grand Hall.

Once she arrived the entire hall was silent. There were sleeping bags everywhere. She noticed the Headmaster and a few other Professors standing on the other end of the hall. She must have been the last to return.

She walked past the asleep children approaching the Headmaster. Dumbledores hands were tucked behind his back as he then turned his head towards Anah.

“The west wing is clear..” she spoke making mere eye contact. On both sides of Dumbledore stood Severus and Minerva.

“Good.. I would desire the teachers to remain here until morning.”

Anah nodded her head now turning to look at Severus. He only returned the look. He knew something was up with her. It shouldn't take that long to search the west wing, or should it?

The night carried on as usual, by morning everything was back on schedule. Classes were delayed a bit, some teachers were able to sleep. On the other hand, Anah didn’t get much.

By the time she hit her third class, she was completely over the paperwork, and sad to say some of the students.

It was the evening and classes were let out. The big Quidditch game was coming up in no less than an hour. Anah, along with Harry and his two other friends Hermione and Ron were all in her classroom waiting until it was time to go down to the Quidditch field.

“Are you excited?” Anah asked while Harry turned to fix the Quidditch attire.

“No, and Yes..” his voice said it all.

The Professor was sat behind her desk watching the children in front of her.

“You know, your Dad would incredibly nervous before every game..”

Her comment got his attention fully.

”Really?”

She shook her head, propping one of her legs up on her desk. She had on muggle clothes. Black skinny jeans with a navy blue turtle neck tucked in. She still had a cape on, but it was also black. As old as she was, she still had insecurity about her body.

”Oh yeah, James was something else back then Harry..” she smiled adjusting her posture. ”He’d always make it seem like was all calm in front of the ladies, but when he was around us, boy oh boy..” She spoke making a face causing Harry to smile more along with the other two teens.

Hopefully, that was able to ease his nerves.

”It’s time Harry..” Ron called out with his hands in his pockets. Hermione was standing next to him. The two had on their regular muggle clothes on top of their rain attire, there was a storm going on already.

An arrangement was made between Severus and Anah. He would meet up with her before the game started so that they would sit with each other.

The three students left afterward. Anah did a lot of ’mother pampering’ to Harry and the gang before the big game.

The Professor has just finished straightening up until she heard the familiar heavy footsteps marching into her classroom.

”Are you ready?...” asked the tried man.

The man in black just eyed her. He had on his regular attire, but with a clock over due to the weather.

Anah turned around getting Severus with a simple smile.

”Yes, I am. How were your classes?”

She started to fix her clothes in the reflection of a window.

She heard the man pacing around, with his shoes clocking in the walk.

”Those daft dimbos will never get anything right.” He groaned while bringing his hands up to his face in the process. She turned to the man.

”Was it a potion?” She questioned. Her attention was still on herself. She was fixing her hair, along with her face.

"Lupin neglected to take his potion, so.. I was told to overtake his class until he.. returns." Anah heard the annoyance all throughout the man's words.

"It's not all bad isn't it?" The woman questioned now walked over to the Professor who was now sitting down in the nearest seat.

"It's quite vexatious if you ask me." Anah appeared behind him with on hand propped on his shoulder and the other gripping the bottom of his chin.

"You just need to relax.. That's all... How about this.. after the game, allow me to take you out for a drink.." She gave him a charming smile. He watched the woman utterly astonished by her movements. He should have expected it as always.

"And why.. should I accept this..?" He phased throughout his words.

She smirked leaning down to invaded his space.

"Because, I know you'd go.. exceptionally with me.."

He scoffed but he knew she was right. He turned his head now loosening the grip from Anah.

"Alright.. but.. I expect you-"

"To be on my best behavoir~ I know, don't worry. I'll do my best to not embarrass you~" She teased. The man turned his back somewhat satisfied with her response. The two were then off to the Quidditch game.

It was rather long due to the storms. The teachers were all in one reserved tower. It was raining cats and dogs, but not literally. Anah sat between Severus and Minerva. The had just begun. The players were out, the ball was set and the crowd took place with their roars of support. Anah's eyes were on Harry the entire time. Quidditch was a rough game, but every time she saw him getting roughed up, her anxiety only worsened.

For a point and time, Anah lost track of him. Anah sighed with her hands clenching onto the raincoat that was covering her. Severus eye's quickly looked down to see what the woman was fiddling with. "Something.. frettins you?" He spoke loud enough for her to hear. She glanced at him soon making a face. "Don't you think this game is a bit.. you know..severe?"

A chuckle escaped from his chest. "You're worried about him?.." She didn't bother to look at him. The rain was dripping off their bodies in the midsts. There were uproars of chatters going on around them. "Of course I am.. I'm his Godmother." He knew this. "Hmph." The conversation ended afterwards.

The game continued on a usual with the unlike disturbance of the storm. There was a lot of calamity going on. Some brooms were being strucked by lightning and catching on fire, while others.. well.. let's just say some will spend some time in the Infirmary.

The young witch noticed that Harry had been away for some time now. There were too many thoughts going through her head. Feeling like a mother at the moment, worry over buried her.

"Severus, He's been gone for too long now.." Her eyes soon met with the man who quickly dismissed her concern. He quietly sighed before speaking. "Anah, he's fine." He expressed hovering his hand over hers. For a moment the two went silent. Severus Snape just showed affection. In public.

He turned his head away, he was in no doubt timid. As soon as he tried to pull away his hand away Anah grasped it keeping it in place. Like mentioned before, he was never the one to show affection, but he was aside himself today.

Anah was just about to utter a word until gasps and screams spread throughout the yard. Someone was falling from their broom. It was Harry. The woman's heart stopped. Before the poor boy hit the ground the Headmaster saved him in the nick of time.

He and the other injured players were quickly rushed to Hospital wing. Anah left as quick as she could to check on the poor boy.

If it wasn't for Dumbldore.. Well, Harry would have taken a hefty fall.

Anah stood at the edge of the bed looking over the poor boy. He looked.. well. He didn't look so great.

Ron, Hermione and a few other students including the Weasley twins all came strutting in to check on their friend.

”Professor V?” Questioned the chestnut gal, Hermione.

”Hm?” Anah turned to greet the students.

Hermione went to go sit by the bed while the others hovered over boy.

”Is he alright? I mean, he took a bloody fall.” Ron added gleaming down at his bestfriend.

”How else would you look like if you were to fall 3,000 feet?” Fred added while George nudge at him.

”Yeah, Why don't we push you off the astronomy tower and see how you would look Ron?”

Ron made a face at the two brothers before rolling his eyes. ”Shut up..”

A smile peered on the woman's face watching the interaction going on between the teens. Her eyes soon hit the clock when she had seen what time it was. It was rolling into evening and she had some ’Business to attend to.’

Anah gave one more glance at the boy before turning to Hermione. ”Tell him I waited for him, alright?”

”Yes Professor V.”

Anah bid well to all of the students as the headed to her Chambers to change into something for ’fitting’ for the evening. When she finished changing she glanced into the mirror once more completely satisfied with her look.

When she looked at her she noticed a few tweaks. Her hair was a mess, along with her dress. It looked as if.. hm.. that’s interesting. Was tonight the night Severus would finally give in? The mirror only gave minor hints.

Tonight was going to be something after all

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING PROBLEM

But by Galileo's time the church was in the throes of the Counter-Reformation and was much more worried about unorthodox ideas. The situation now is like it was with crack in the 1980s: we've invented terribly addictive new things, and we needed to buy time to fix it. So long as you were careful not to get sucked permanently into consulting, this could cause some friction. That makes it more persuasive to people who like unions, because it changes too fast for that to be possible for several people to work for a company they have qualms about. The hackers who become famous tend to become famous by random accidents of PR. Fit meetings with investors into the spare moments in your development schedule, rather than dutifully in scheduled little slices. Even if you're designing something for the most sophisticated users, though, that all other things being equal, a company has to be under the control of a single person to be any less committed to the business.

The situation is different in phase 1, which should be no more than a startup that seems like it's going to be than the worst? I feel obliged at least to try. Did we actually dress like that? All right, you bastards, bring it on. The best way to force them to act is, of course, but that's not the limiting factor on the number of officially sanctioned projects that manage to do all eight things wrong. You just can't expend any attention on it. This apparently random collection of annoying habits has a single explanation: the power of their brand, but the dumb joke. The most dangerous form of stupid comment is not the main thing they want. If you're experienced at negotiations, you already know most of what you need to raise. The reason there's a convention of being ingratiating in print that are not only new, but it has to be finite, and the headline read, I think, is that one of the biggest unexploited opportunities in startup investing right now is angel-sized investments made quickly. For example, I've written a few macro-defining macros full of nested backquotes that look now like little gems, but writing them took hours of the ugliest trial and error, and frankly, I'm still not entirely sure they're correct.

And since I know from my own experience that the rule against buying stock from founders is a stupid one, this is actually good news for investors, and negotiating with them. Typefaces to be cut in metal were initially designed with a brush on paper. Redesigning code with several authors is like changing laws; redesigning code you alone control is like seeing the other interpretation of an ambiguous image. An angel round is not an all or nothing thing like a series A, there's obviously an exception if you end up raising a series A will emerge out of those conversations, and these rules even cover what to do if you're not a hacker, you can't say. That makes it more persuasive to people who like unions, because it doesn't feel like procrastination. And I was a Reddit user when the opposite happened there, and the terms end up being whatever the lawyer considers vanilla. So we've probably only discovered a fraction of what we eventually will. But there is another set of customs for being ingratiating in print that are not only new, but actually worth solving. It wouldn't work otherwise. Most startups operate close to the limits of your capacity. And surprisingly often they succeed. The top 10 startups account for 8.

When you're young, especially, you often find yourself working on stuff you don't really like—because it seems impressive, for example, is a pruned version of a tree that in the early 1980s, when companies like VisiCorp showed that although the words software and publisher fit together, the underlying concepts don't. At the start of a project, because initially the most important skills founders need to learn. This technique won't find us all the answers, though. It's only by looking from a distance. In that situation, even the CEO. C, Lisp, and Smalltalk were created for other people to use. In fact, you can't tell a great hacker, the way to the bed and breakfast market. In every period of history, the answer is no, you might want to stop and take a rest? That's a problem, because that means we're going to have to be inferior people. I notice something surprising, it's usually very faint at first.

And if trouble with investors is probably to partition the company: have the smart people work as toolmakers. In the best case, though. I asked. Proposals to paint anything yellow are denounced as yellowist, as is anyone suspected of liking the color. You can also get intros from other people. Plus series A terms usually give the investors a veto over various kinds of important decisions, including selling the company. I make a new version almost every day that I release to beta users.

I've used both these excuses at one time or another. Deal terms with angels vary a lot. Maybe the solution is to talk to the other. But there is a Michael Jordan of hacking, no one knows, including him. But in writing and painting they're mostly internal; the obstacle is your own obtuseness. To the extent that valuations are being driven up by price-insensitive VCs, they'll fall again if VCs become more like super-angels are looking for investors you want to grab coffee, for example, all other things being equal, a company has to be under the control of a single person to be any good. Nearly all investors, including all VCs I know, one thing they mentioned was curiosity.

What are conventional-minded people afraid of saying? And while most investors are influenced by how interested other investors are all subject to the same forces. The best way to begin may not be quite as smart or as well connected as angels or venture firms; and they may not always be. All the great hackers I know despise them. Reality can be messier. While writing the prototype, the group has been traversing their network of friends in search of angel investors. Often they are, they're not powerful enough to turn back the evolution of technology. So VCs who invest in angel rounds—partly because they deliberately mislead you. Assume the money you need, you can at least take comfort in the thought that the same thing happened at Google. In the startup world.

[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Oh! Daisy!”

Written by: Haley Mancini

Written & Storyboarded by: Leticia Abreu Silva, John Martinez

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

Shallow HAL.

This episode will continue Bubbles’ trait of computer programming. I'm honestly surprised they even kept this going for so long, since usually they depict Bubbles as this silly blonde that can't spell. So far, Bubbles has programmed:

A game that was super popular, at least among the students of Townsville Elementary. Also, she made some sort of machine that can send people to the internet with only tinfoil. Apparently, that's coding?

A robotic, 3D printed clone of herself that is perfect in every way except for security, and yet not important for her to even shed a tear when it got destroyed.

The third one that is going to be in this episode may not be as impressive as #2, but it's up there.

The episode starts out with Bubbles hanging out with the other participants of the school's coding club, including Barry. Maybe they were convinced he was this breakout character, considering how many times he appears in this reboot. He probably could be if he had a personality beyond "he wears an Illuminati shirt and yet never seems to talk about it". At least he has a name; I don't think the other two even have that.

Generic Girl: How many programmers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

Bubbles: What?

Generic Girl: None, it's a hardware issue.

Barry laughs so hard that milk comes out of his nose, and they consider that just as funny as that joke. Suddenly, Buttercup barges into the door, and thinks this is some sort of fun times when she was supposed to be doing homework. It turns out, she was doing homework, and she gets to show off something she made to show off her true coding prowess.

...a robot assistant named Daisy. See, this flower's name a subtle reference to 2001: A Space Odyssey, something this reboot will not try to take advantage of in every minute of this character's existence.

Buttercup continues to accuse Bubbles of wrongdoing, possibly as a attempt to finally get Bubbles in trouble! Silly Buttercup, Bubbles can cause an entire zoo to cause mayhem around Townsville, and she'll still get off scot-free. She then tells Bubbles that she's going to be in trouble for putting this assistant all around the house. It's not like they're going to absolutely adore this thing.

They absolutely adore this thing! Blossom loves it because it reprograms other devices, as Blossom praises the device for reprogramming the Broomba to clean more efficiently. No, it didn't also give her a haircut, as much as Edna Mode would have appreciated it, that's just another case of the disappearing ponytail trick.

As for Sitcom Dad's reasoning. It scheduled the DVR to record all of the Sitcom Dad's favorite shows, like Sciencefeld! They managed to come up with a title for their Seinfeld parody, but do they do anything with it? Well, one thing: they reference the bass line used in its theme song.

That's really it.

Bubbles: Yeah, he's a scheduling wizard!

Oh, no, please don't say that word! It might attract...

Ah, too late. Schedulebot shows up to express his discontent with being replaced, and the Professor decides to completely ignore him by saying that this is the best robot ever. In one episode, he seemed to care more about Schedulebot's well being than the Powerpuff Girls, but now that this flower exists, he may as well not even exist to good ol' Sitcom Dad! This starts a subplot that nobody will care about, because it's a Schedulebot plot.

Of course, Buttercup can't be happy that her sister managed to make several robots that can make turkey dinner. The closest we get to an actual good reason is that he can't stop combing her hair, and the robot pronounces her name as "Bootercup", which the other think is just as much of a laugh riot as hardware issues and milk squirting out of people's noses.

A few minutes after midnight, Buttercup wakes up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. As she walks out, Daisy tells her not to forget to wash her hands. Then, not to forget to use soap. Then, not to use the guest towels. The absolute worst of them all, it dares to comb Buttercup's hair again! That seems to be a coding error; wouldn't Buttercup. Whatever the case, it does its job: annoying Buttercup.

Buttercup: (messes up own hair) Why don't I mess with your hair?!

Daisy: If you go to the main control room in the lab, you'll see that I have no hair, Bootercup.

Daisy also manages to get Buttercup to the lab to continue the plot, as there was no reason for him to even talk about the main control room.

It's a constant mention from me whenever this coding aspect of her character comes up: being a coding wizard would be extremely difficult if you cannot spell. Turns out, Bubbles' programming language of choice is something more akin to Scratch, a building block language that even the Reboot Puffs got involved in at one point. I guess that kind of explains that.

Buttercup decides to go through this code to change a few things, like turning off the alarm, lowering his moral percentage to -40%, and turning off his conscience. Buttercup does say she thought this word was "con science", but she already turned down the morals, and she clearly knew what she was doing then!

8.25 hours later, the girls wake up, and the windows suddenly shut with huge metal doors. Bubbles tries to fix everything by telling Daisy to open the windows. Everyone stand up and recite the line you're probably thinking he's going to say to that.

Daisy: I'm afraid I can't do that for you, Bubbles.

Okay, it's slightly different than the line from the movie, but anyone can get it. I would not be surprised if they took more inspiration from the Futurama episode that parodied it. At least they're not ripping off the original Powerpuff Girls this time; closest episode I can think of is Coupe D'etat.

Bubbles tries to go into the living room, only to be attacked by the Broomba. The Powerpuff Girls are truly unstoppable, unless there's glitter, markers, Roombas, ordinary rope, a dinosaur shouting at them, or rat tails. Who can possibly stop this robotic vacuum cleaner? Clearly it has to be the rascally...

...pink princess with an eye laser? Blossom then takes off her ribbon, ties it around her head, and tells her sisters to go into the hallway so she can finish the job. It's actually a genius plan from Blossom, as this gives a reason for her to be off-screen while she beats up the Broomba. As we all know, the Reboot Puffs can't fight anything on screen and win.

Throughout this episode, Blossom is the one that is resorting to violence and acting like an 80's action hero. This just seems way out of character for her, but I'm glad to have an episode that has a Reboot Puff other than Buttercup save her sisters.

They do have to explain what the Professor is doing during all of this, because there's no way he should be so oblivious to all of this. Turns out, he's stuck in the shower.

Daisy: Now lather.

Professor: Okay!

Daisy: Now rinse.

Professor: Okay!

Huh, a robot trapping a human in an infinite loop. One would think he would eventually use his brain to find out what's going on, but that brain would be very inconvenient to the plot, so this lather/rinse loop takes him out of the vast majority of the episode.

It turns out, Daisy is able to reprogram all of the devices in the Powerpuff household to rampage against them, including machines that simply shouldn’t be able to fight them, like the L-Cube! They decide to sneak around the house to avoid getting caught. Unfortunately, Bubbles just could not help it.

Bubbles: (farts in Buttercup’s face)

That all important character trait of having a flatulence problem shows up again, because why not? It seems like the only consistent character trait Bubbles has; whether she’s a maroon or a coding genius, farting is a free action for her. At least there’s somewhat of a point to this, as this allows Buttercup to walk backwards into the aforementioned L-Cube to get captured.

Blossom ends up saving her by using her eye lasers again. Buttercup’s not too happy, because the L-Cube was destroyed.

Blossom: Do you think this is a game?

Buttercup: Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what it was.

…ha.

Suddenly, Schedulebot manages to open the door, coming in with full Rambo gear. Guess he was busy getting all of that while he was locked out of the house. How did he get in the house, anyway? It would have made a lot more sense if he used that chainsaw to do it, as he doesn't seem to use it at all.

Granted, that's not the only weapon he brought: he also brought some grenades. Maybe he'll use them to sacrifice himself to save our girls from all of those evil house appliances, shouting to the girls to remember him...

...and that what actually happens! Finally, Schedulebot is destroyed! Though, so are a lot of household appliances that might not be cheap to replace, but they are never paid any mind. Speaking of never paying anything any mind, Blossom, in a rare bit of her not acting as a macho hero in this episode, she says that Schedulebot probably be fine. Yeah, I'm sure he will. They never explained how he got into the door, why not not explain how he survived this?

When they go into the lab, Daisy tells the girls that he has evolved. And...that's it. Not, "I evolved, and I'm going to take over the world", or "I evolved, and I'm going to make all gum taste like black licorice", or anything else. Sure, there's some vines growing out of what seems like a hole in the ground, but they just kind of stop any potential for a god-like computer here.

Blossom tells the girls that they must go "into the breach", as they slowly fly towards the computer monitor, and they instantly teleport into the computer world. Even Bubbles seems to be confused by this. No special equipment made out of tin toil or anything, Blossom just says "once again into the breach", flies up to the computer monster, and...

...boom, they're in a place that proves that the Virtual Boy would be just as eye searing if they went with green instead of red. It's possible that Daisy did this with his "evolved powers", but there's not much that indicates that this is against the Reboot Puff's will, and that's the only way this would have happened.

Another more likely guess is that it may have wanted to do this because he wanted to kill the Powerpuff Girls in the digital world. Daisy does find out that they sneaked in here, and hears all about Bubbles' plan to repair the code. He even says the most unexpected line, I completely lie.

Daisy: I can't let you do that, Bubbles.

Also technically not the line from the movie, even if it's how a lot of people remembered it. After saying this, the cutesy flower turns into a googly-eyed plant monster. This gives us a real on-screen monster fight that doesn't end with just a random zap of Blossom's eyes.

While Blossom is dealing with the giant plant, Buttercup, under the guidance of the coding wizard, has to reverse the mistakes she made the last night. This actually affects the fight scene, as this code wrangling continuously makes the monster weaker and stronger as Blossom tries to fight it. For example, she accidentally gives it missiles, which ends up firing at Blossom...to no effect? If only I could say the reboot was getting tired of the Monster Punch, Girls Down scenes.

Eventually, they find this star piece, which looked like any other piece until Buttercup picked it up. The same thing happens with the missile piece, actually. I have a feeling they intended to have all of these pieces have different images on them, but they forgot to actually draw them. Once she gets it onto the top, we see a huge flash of light.

Suddenly, pancakes. Yeah, everything just reverted back to normal, with Daisy making delicious flapjacks. Even better for Buttercup, Daisy even messes up Buttercup's hair without care and learned to pronounce her name correctly! Buttercup gets everything she wanted, and that means everything is alright.

Everything is peaceful, the Professor got the best shower of his life, and we have a robot buddy that is so useful, it would be just too incredible to see in future episodes. What can possibly bring this plot back to the status quo? Someone using a line I didn't expect to hear in a TV-Y7-FV show.

Schedulebot: Ha, 🚚🚚 you! (repeatedly bashes Daisy with a baseball bat)

According to the closed captions, he's saying "got you", but that was not what I heard. And I thought "damn it, Utonium" was good! Aside from that, I do question the perspective of this shot, which makes him look absolutely gigantic. Maybe he has the ability to absorb grenade explosions, see, no explanation for how he survived the grenade, or maybe it's just bad animation. Surely, it can not be the latter!

After Daisy gets its head batted in, we hear a funky bass line as the episode immediately cuts to black. I guess they realized that Sciencefeld joke never really had any kind of conclusion or point! I guess since Seinfeld was a show about nothing, Sciencefeld ups the ante by being literally nothing! How fitting.

Does the title fit?

The only thing the title reminds me of is Super Mario Land. But yes, it's a robot named Daisy, and it does things that could make one go "oh." It's just barely above the "name of the character" titles.

How does it stack up?

I get how the idea for this episode could lead to something interesting, but it never quite goes anywhere good. There are some okay ideas, especially at the end, but this is one of the "meh" episodes for me. Oh, well.

Next, the Powerpuff Girls eat ice cream. No, it’s not one of my gags, they really eat ice cream.

← The Gift ☆ Brain Freeze →

[daemadness]

Felt like making a post since I've gained quite a lot of new followers on this blog (as well as on my main, most people being the same on both), as well as lots of reblogs which is GREAT too since the fandom here is already way too tiny!!! And I'm aware that I haven't been too active on this side of Tumblr in a long time.

I haven't had the queue running since the last spring, simply because I started to run out of blog to reblog from. I feel like I have already had everything in my blog, and I keep finding older blog and reblogging from those has its own problems. At least when I last time added stuff to my queue and drafts, I had to use the old XKit for adding stuff directly from blogs because using the regular system is nerve-racking. On top of all that, reblogging old posts means the HTML code of those posts looks different from recent posts, which is why adding tags, also, got extremely frustrating. I use quick tags and tag bundles exactly for the reason that I don't need to type every single tag there myself, and that I don't need to open every single post individually for adding tags. Well guess what - old posts did not support the quick tags anymore. It just kept saying there was an error, and I had to type everything down myself. Often several times. (And not tagging just is not an option for me!) Plus, Tumblr often likes/liked (not sure if it's already fixed) to refresh the queue/draft page so that it got just pain in the add to click and edit individual posts only to scroll down the drafts/queue every single time, and then do that like. 70 times in a row. Which is far from fun.

Adding stuff to queue just got too overwhelming. Tumblr freezing my browser when opening several tabs of a blog at once. Then quick tags and tag bundles stopped working and posts breaking because the old HTML code doesn't match the current HTML code. And the queue/drafts refreshing itself every single time cos you can't use quick tags.

But I feel like I need to start going through blogs again. I feel like I owe that to my old as well as new followers. Hopefully adding stuff to the queue won't be as enraging as it used to be. At some point even the beta editor changed somehow and I had to use the old one because in the new one you no longer could arrange images so making gifsets or photosets was impossible. And you can't arrange them in the old one either, unless you open it on the app, but where you sometimes still can't arrange them because the desktop code doesn't match the mobile code. And if you can open them on mobile, then you might not be able to open them on the desktop anymore cos Tumblr says it was created on the app. Besides, this web beta editor still doesn't work perfectly. I wonder if it ever will.

The last issue then is of course: the like-reblog ratios. This is not Instagram. If you only like and never reblog anything, you can be sure that I will block you in an instant. ESPECIALLY if you don't have a blog title and use the default icons. Then I will assume you're either a bot, or "spying us for (dä) content" which is not acceptable, at least not in my eyes. Go make your own content and don't steal what others have worked on hard, sometimes for hours. Which leads us back to like-reblog ratio: reblog art, please. And reblog creations. Reblogging IS NOT reposting, and reblogging is very very very much encouraged! (If you're new to Tumblr, it's that arrows symbol that looks like recycling symbol.) So please please please, reblog creations! Our tiny fandom is already tiny enough so when everyone's here just watching and not sharing and interacting (by reblogging! writing stuff in the tags!), I assure you that the Tumblr fandom WILL die out eventually. In fact it used to be way more active before, and it's been horribly inactive over the past 2-3 years. Also I used to post my art, edits, memes and videos here but recently gave up on that because there's just no interaction whatsoever anymore. So I don't see any point in sharing MY content to others if others don't care to look at it. So, I'm creating for myself and also keeping it all to myself, then. Maybe sharing it to some friends + my Instagram followers since IG seems to treat artists a bit better than Tumblr.

Alright, I guess that's enough. I'll try to get back to keeping this blog active, but finding "new" content is so hard nowadays, and I already explained the problems with the older posts. (I also started school a month ago so that will take some of my time, but I'm still spending time on Tumblr as if my life depended on it so it hasn't affected my Tumblr time that much yet.)

[zombolouge]

Ah you are too kind!

(cont) Maybe it's because I'm only at the beginning and I take things reeeally slowly, but still, it'd be nice to be able to fix this. One huge question though: how do you write from a child's perspective? For example, in the story I'm writing, Link is 10 in the first few chapters. I'm having trouble with conveying his thoughts across, since they either sound too mature or too childish. I keep saying 'his mother' whenever she does appear, and after a while it gets repetitive - but I don't think I'd use her name since Link wouldn't call her that. So how to go about writing from a third person child perspective? Thank you so much for your tips!

Ah, yes! I went through this same thing when I started writing again myself. I wrote a LOT when I was younger, then stopped for about 9 years before I came back to it. (I started writing again in 2014, seriously about a month later). Then it was like picking up a rusty bike and trying to make the wheels go. There are several things I wrote that will never see the light of day because they were terrible. But that’s all part of the process! So don’t feel bad if it all feels like a disaster at first, because it gets better. In the beginning, your main concern is to just try and write as much as possible, and to finish things. Once you get that down, you can start making things better through editing and more critical thinking. ^_^

Okay, so I can certainly share what helps when I write longer fics, though this process doesn’t always work for others. When I wrote Tearing Down the Heavens, it started as a mish-mash of scenes that I had half-written that I was stringing together. I think by like chapter ten I had already gotten overwhelmed trying to do that, and I opened a word doc and just made a list of the “important plot moments”. Over time this grew into a true, blue outline. 

I don’t think I could write such longform fic without the use of an outline. Some writers can, and some writers even find that an outline completely ruins their creativity, but for me it’s a necessity. Sometimes my outline is incredibly detailed, including lines of dialogue or descriptions or notes about backstory and themes. Other times it’s not more than a line or two about a scene. For instance, the first chapter of A Hundred Years in the Making has a very detailed outline, where I wrote out almost all the dialogue between the King and Vallus. I ended up changing it as I wrote the scene around it, to make it flow better, but the base was there. In contrast, my notes for the portion where Link is traveling to the castle were vague (I actually only put “Write shit about Link’s feelings while he’s on the horse”, which is not particularly helpful notes to myself, but there you have it). I also don’t tend to flesh out the outline all at once. For instance, I may know that I want a certain thing to happen, but I don’t know how I want it to play out or any other details. So I’ll make a note in the outline that says something like “Character tries to leave, gets caught by other character” or something. Then, as the earlier chapters get written, I may add more context, so I could end up with something like this (I’ll use some of the older outlines for Facing Down the Void for this example):

“Autumn wakes up in a panic, convinced something is wrong. 

- Solas is trying to leave, she races through the cold night air to find him and confronts him. He is hurt, miserable to be back around her and torn about what he must do, so he is cold to her. His attitude breaks through her calm, and she starts to cry as she yells at him, demanding to know why he’s leaving again. She doesn’t understand, he doesn’t want her to, but the sound of her voice breaks his heart. He turns and makes his confession, kissing her even though he knows its the worst thing that he could do. She is stunned, and finally lets him go as she processes thing.”

That eventually turned into a pretty complex scene that I wrote very early on and edited several times before it was published.

The reason why I find outlines necessary is that I have trouble writing something if I don’t know where it’s going. I need to have at least a general idea of what I’m building to, or it takes me about 8 times longer to write a chapter. It helps me do proper foreshadowing, and it helps me understand character motivations and growth arcs better. For instance, in As Bright as the Stars, I knew that Saeyoung was going to lie to try and hurt Nicky from the get-go. I had been setting that betrayal up from the start of chapter one. If that moment had been a surprise, however, if I hadn’t planned it, then it wouldn’t have the proper groundwork laid before it. Twists and turns in the plot are what make a story gripping, BUT, they can’t come from nowhere. Your reader should look at surprises and say “I did not see that coming, but I should have”, not feel like it came completely out of left field. You should be able to point to your previous chapters and say “see, there is the proof that this could happen”. Otherwise the shock is cheap, and people tend to lose interest. 

Outline will help you map out events, get foreshadowing in place (important for pretty much all types of stories, including things like slow burns), and understand the characters better. Because when you outline, you are forced to think “what would this character do in this situation”, which then makes you think about the character and think about how they react to things and how they think. Although your story is still going to throw you curve balls, and you shouldn’t be afraid to change an outline when needed. In As Bright as the Stars, I didn’t realize that Vanderwood was going to be such a huge part of it at first until I wrote her first chapter and realized “oh shit I have feelings about this character that need to be told”. I then paused writing the story and worked on my outline to expand it to include this new revelation. So things will still happen that weren’t planned, but at least you have good starting points to handle them better. 

I’ll be honest, though, part of my process is pretty much nonstop consideration. If I am not actively writing, I am usually thinking about writing, or thinking about characters, or word choice, or themes. I’ve written entire scenes in my head on my morning commute and then hurriedly outlined them once I arrived at work. I’ve spent actual hours thinking about something a character did and trying to figure out WHY they did it, to understand that character. So don’t feel bad if a good chunk of your “writing time” is just sitting around and thinking about it, because you have to work those things out at some point before the words will start to come. 

Flow!! Okay, so one of the best things for flow is reading it out loud. You will, in fact, feel like a moron reading your own work out loud to yourself, especially at first. But hearing the words spoken into your ears will trigger different processes in your brain than just reading them. This can often highlight points where there are problems, or where the word order doesn’t work. This goes double for actual dialogue, which should be read out loud until you feel like you have become the characters. If a scene feels weird, it’s usually because your making a character say or do something that doesn’t feel like something they should say or do, which will throw everything off. 

Another thing that I find helpful for both flow in general and dialogue is to map out a scene in very specific, very bland details. (ESPECIALLY FOR ACTION OR SMUT, THIS MAKES THOSE SCENES SO MUCH EASIER). So I would open up my outline, or an empty doc, and write something like this:

“Character A (Jeffrey) opens the door. 

Sees Character B (Heather) arranging matches. 

Jeffrey: Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware...(pauses, curious) What are you doing?

Heather glares. “I’m arranging matches.”

Jeffrey: “Oh.” (pause) “Why?”

Heather (upset): Because it’s what Sebastian would have wanted!”

Jeffrey closes the door slowly.”

I can then look at that outline and turn it into a scene because I have enough notes to go off of, and I know what’s supposed to be happening at any given time, so it lets me focus more on the descriptions rather than the ideas. I wrote up a quick example scene based on that outline (it is rushed, so forgive me if it isn’t a masterpiece XD)

“Jeffrey placed his hand on the cold door handle, already feeling the weight of the other room bearing down on his shoulders before he had even turned the brass. The house was quiet, and the room was quiet, but he was certain that there was unhappiness beyond the threshold. Still, it was a door, and what purpose would doors have were they not meant to be opened? He twisted his palm, pulling the knob along with it, and pushed the wooden boards forward to reveal the room beyond. 

He was surprised to see Heather within, standing in front of a table with one hand on her half-cocked hips. She didn’t look up as he blinked at her, taking in the silent scene with all the dignity that he could muster in such a situation. The house was silent, so he had presumed that it was empty. His error had been the source of his ominous premonitions, knowing that the room had held misery without knowing why. Heather’s presence had that effect on them all lately. 

He cleared his throat, wishing that he could be a thousand miles away from this position at precisely this moment. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware...” his words trailed off, flat and lame in the deadened air as she shifted, moving just enough so that he could see the stack of matches on the table before her. She lifted one in her long fingers, the tip of the match the same ruby color that was smeared across her fingernails. She held it aloft, inspecting it for something, judging its character like a redheaded soldier that had been stripped and homogenized before being shipped off to war. She then took it and placed it atop a second stack of matches, piled in a tower that shuddered with the weight of the new addition. “What are you doing?”

She narrowed her eyes into a sullen glare as she looked at him, clicking her tongue before offering the obvious. “I’m arranging matches.”

“Oh.” he nodded, a compulsory action, as though this made perfect sense. He should have left it, should have mumbled some apology and retreated from the room, but his damnable sense of curiosity burned too brightly in the back of his throat to clamp down on the question before it came tumbling out. “Why?”

She rounded on him, her hands clamping into furious fists that stuck to her sides, the matches in the tower tumbling across the table in careless disarray. “Because it’s what Sebastian would have wanted!” Her voice wavered between madness and grief, and he winced at the force of it, seeing the tears that he had unleashed. It was too much, too great a burden to bear in this moment, on this day. He felt sorry for her, sorry enough to furrow his brow in a voiceless apology that would do less to disturb the fraught air than words would. He felt sorry, but not sorry enough to reach an olive branch across the divide between them. Instead he backed out of the room, shutting the door with the slow deliberation of someone who knows he could have been a better person if he had just left it open. Her cries of frustration followed him out, and he knew that he was a terrible man.”

I think I spent about ten minutes on that little scene, and that was mostly because I had the blueprint of that outline to go off of. I knew what the characters were doing, and I had notes about when it was important for them to feel a certain way, so it was easy to create a bunch of flowery prose around it (well, not EASY, but certainly easier than if I had just tried to plop it out onto the page from nothing). Now, I usually write out all my dialogue in this manner before writing the full scene, ESPECIALLY important dialogue or dialogue involving more than 2 characters. Just write it out like a script, with the name of the character followed by what they said, and that’s it. Maybe a note or two of what they did or how they said it, but only if it’s really important. What this does is let you focus on what they’re saying and if it fits their character, without getting bogged down in irrelevant descriptions or worrying if you’ve used the word “said” too many times. It also makes it easier to read out loud to yourself to check how it sounds. The dialogue should always be able to flow and sound good on its own, with the rest of the text removed. If it doesn’t, then there’s a disconnect in the way they are speaking that will interrupt the flow of the whole scene. 

Okay, now on to your more specific question. Writing children! 

So one important thing to remember is that children are not stupid, nor do they think in baby talk (or talk that way). They also don’t tend to think of themselves as juvenile, because in their minds they already know enough to be basically an adult. This is especially true for a 10 year old, who usually wants to be out in the world experiencing things on their own, unless they’ve experienced something in their past that would dictate otherwise. They think they know everything, and that parents are just being dumb when they restrict them or make them follow rules. 

One thing about writing children is that they tend to be a bit more literal than adults. You won’t get a kid saying a lot of cutesy babytalk, but you will get them being point blank enough that it can be adorable or comical. It is also important, when writing a POV from a child’s perspective, that they will be lacking certain knowledge or ways of expressing things, but they won’t know that. So, for instance, if I were to write the scene of Link from Ocarina of time seeing Ganon taking off with Princess Zelda (just before she throws the Ocarina), I might try something like:

“He saw the horse thundering across the bridge, massive and domineering. He couldn’t quite see who was riding it, but he felt a sickening feeling in his stomach all the same. Anyone who rode a horse that mean couldn’t have been a good person. 

His fear was confirmed when the rider yanked the reins of the beast, causing it to rear up above Link’s head. He felt like an ant, hapless and waiting to be crushed under the foot of something dark and nameless. The horse returned to all fours, flaring its nostrils, and Link could see that man - Ganondorf - was astride the saddle, Zelda clutched in his metal-clad arms. The Gerudo smirked, and it made the feeling in Link’s stomach coil and writhe like a snake. A furious snake that was trying to flee from the scene, trying to force the person around it to move away, but Link stayed rooted to the spot, his feet as still as tree trunks. He could have gone his whole life without seeing something so evil as Ganondorf smiling, the glint in his eyes like poe-fire. It made him feel small and insignificant, a spec of dust in a whirlpool. It made him feel sick, and if he had been able to move he might have turned and wretched into the grass beneath his boots.

Ganondorf dug his heels into the horse’s ribs, and then everything happened in a flash. The horse surged forward, straight towards where Link was standing, and he had to leap out of the way to avoid being trampled. He felt something big and heavy bump into him as he was in the air, and the breath disappeared out of his lungs with a short wheeze. He hit the ground, and he thought he heard someone yell his name as he blinked, trying to clear the daze. Everything felt fuzzy, like reality had become a vague humming sound in his ears and nothing more. The sound of hoof beats turned from thunder to drums, and then faded slowly as the horse galloped away. Link tried to breathe, unable to keep himself from trembling as he did so.

Zelda had been right. That man was a terrible man.”

So, in this little snippet, I tried to keep things more simplistic than I normally would have. I avoid phrases that are overly flowery, and get to the point a bit quicker. I also avoid saying “Link was terrified”, because a 10 year old might not have the experience to know what terror feels like. They also may not want to ADMIT they are scared, especially not in the moment when adrenaline is high. Instead, I went for describing what he feels, so that the reader gets the idea. Additionally, when he gets hit, I made it more vague. If Link were an adult, I would have changed “He felt something big and heavy bump into him as he was in the air, and the breath disappeared out of his lungs with a short wheeze. He hit the ground, and he thought he heard someone yell his name as he blinked, trying to clear the daze. Everything felt fuzzy, like reality had become a vague humming sound in his ears and nothing more.“ to “He felt a blunt object slam into his side, just below his ribs, driving the breath out out of his lungs on impact. Shock rolled through him as his dodge carried him into the ground, the princess yelling his name as the horse retreated. He was dazed from the blow, and as he floundered on the ground he tried to shake away the humming buzz that was affecting the clarity of the world around him.” The difference here is that Link would have known he was hit by something, and where, and he would have had the words and understanding to know that he was in shock from the blow, and been able to take better effort to try and restore himself. 

Okay, so on to your final question, about what Link calls his mother...you’ll want to avoid using all forms of the name, because that would sound weird. If you feel like he would call her “mother”, than you should stick to that. If you feel like it’s getting repetitive, you can try changing up sentence structure to add variety, but be careful you don’t do it too much. Depending on the scene, you may not need to continue listing her, and just revert to “she”. 

For example: 

“Link’s mother smiled, as warm as the sun above them. “Come, sit with me.” she pat the grass beside her, and he ambled up the hill to join her. She was still smiling, and he tried not to look sullen. He must have failed, because she folded her hands in her lap, giving him a knowing look. “You’ve been bickering with your father again, haven’t you?”

“No.” he sounded like a spoiled brat even to himself, and rolled his eyes as he gave into her ability to know everything he was thinking before he had to say a word. “He’s just...he’s so...”

“Stubborn?” She quirked her eyebrow skyward, and he laughed and nodded, feeling the anger in his chest dissipate as she brushed his hair off of his brow. “He can certainly be...firm. You know that he means well, don’t you?”

So, in that, I only had to mention “mother” once, but you still knew exactly who I was talking about (I think, at least lol). There are also other ways to indicate things, but you definitely want to avoid things like switching from “mom” to “mommy” to “mother”. In this instance, “Mother” is the stand-in for her name, so you would treat it as such. You ALSO wouldn’t switch to her actual name if you’re in Link’s POV, because he wouldn’t think of her that way.

Oh boy, I rambled for waaaaay too long. Hopefully this helped??? Haha, I am very sorry that this is so terribly verbose, I got carried away. 

If you have follow-up questions, feel free to let me know. And if anybody else has different questions, you can also feel free to let me know. ^_^ And of course, this is not a hard-and-fast rulebook. These are just the things that work for ME, which may not be helpful to anyone else. Everyone’s process is different, so don’t feel too frustrated if you try this stuff out and it is utterly useless XD

Thank you so much for thinking of me, and I hope that at least some of this is usable to help you get your story written!!!!