#when i make myself bigger? when there is less space for them to fill?

[lilyimmsim]

i'm so hellbent on making myself smaller, hating myself, so that there's more room for people to love me. if i think less of myself, then there is far more space for them to fill it, surely? yet i do not accept it. all i'm left with is half a soul, people telling me they love me while i scream "you cannot" over them.

[betty-bourgeoisie]

The thing I find most concerning about the sudden and rapid declines of platforms like Twitter, Reddit, and to a lesser extent Discord and Facebook, is the loss of digital third places that will result from it.

[Definition: a Third Place is a space outside of work or the home that you spend a significant amount of time in. Usually a social gathering place like a church, library, park, or gym]

It's a known issue that physical third places are disappearing. Cities, malls, and shopping centers have cracked down hard on loitering, resulting in a lack of public space for people to just hang out in. Parks exist, but their use is usually dependent on weather conditions. Church attendance has been in decline for decades for a lot of reasons I won't get into here. Libraries exist but they're not a good place to talk with friends. And pretty much every other third place I can think of (bars, game stores, bookstores, coffee shops, etc) requires you to spend money if you want to be there. None of these are new observations, smarter people than myself have written whole books on the loss of in-person third places.

Social media has been filling in the gap left by these third places for the last couple of decades. As physical space has become less accessible we've migrated online to find community - and especially during COVID, social media was really the only place you could socialize with others. None of this is new information either.

But the current issue, that I've seen very few people talking about, is that companies are starting to price and bully people out of those digital third places the same way they did with physical third places. The difference is that it's happening much faster, and usually at the whim of just one or two people. These are not broader sociological trends slowly shutting down social spaces like what we saw with the decline of shopping malls. There will be no slow adjustment to another social medium. We are seeing individual billionaires making a choice in real time to monetize people out of some of the only public social spaces we have left.

I've seen people bemoaning the loss of information that comes with these sites collapsing, but personally, I am far more concerned with the loss of social space. Don't get me wrong, social media of all kinds is an absolute nightmare, but for many people (and especially for teenagers who have more restrictions on where they can go and what money they can spend) online space is one of the only places they can reliably go to socialize.

In a country like the U.S. where the federal government is calling loneliness an epidemic this is actually a much bigger concern than I think a lot of people realize. How many people have more online friends than in-person ones? What happens to rates of loneliness as social media platforms become inaccessible and people lose those connections?

Obviously, the preferred answer is that people will go make more friends in person, but remember that in-person social spaces have already been severely limited. This is not the easy option that you might hope it is.

My actual call to action on this is to fucking fight to get your in-person third places back. Talk to your local representatives about repealing loitering laws - organize protests or ballot initiatives about it if you have to. Work with rotary clubs and parks departments to fund new public restrooms and park shelters. If there are places in your community that provide free workshop spaces/ game nights/ art walks/ etc go to them and support them financially when and if you're able. Go to your local library and check out a book so they get more funding! I know this shit can be boring, but things are only going to get worse if people don't have places where they can connect with each other. We can't keep letting capitalists take community spaces from us.

[imbadatparking]

You whispered I’m scared of ending up like Mom, and you spoke with more conviction than I could even fake. It filled the space between us along with the other unspoken agreements and admittances we wouldn’t dare say out loud to each other, let alone anyone else. The words grew louder and louder in volume, until they were bigger than the both of us and echoed off the walls Dad repainted after the divorce.

The house is empty, like it always is these days, so we don’t have to worry about prying ears listening. Not that it matters to you — I’ll never say it because maybe part of me is embarrassed to look up to you as much as I do, but I’ve always admired that about you. The only time I’d ever say something like that is when it’s just you and me, but you've always been the better of the two of us — all blonde-haired, blue-eyes, kind boyfriend, not afraid to speak your mind and argue against what’s not right.

Sometimes you and I seem so different, I can convince myself we aren’t related. When I’m standing next to you, all my already jagged edges grow sharp enough to hurt someone and cruel enough to go through with it. I’ve only gotten worse from the things I’ve been through, only allowing myself to become more calloused. I watched you take everything bad that’s happened and wrap them around your limbs to keep you tethered to Earth as you grew. I’ve never been able to do that. Plants wilt under my absent-minded touch and refuse to grow, too scared to come out into the sun. Not only did yours grow, but they thrived, just like you. Purple flowers peek from the vibrant leaves that curl up against you, needy for your attention. You’ve always been selfless enough to give some of it away, but smart enough to keep the rest for yourself. 

I’ve watched you change and grow, becoming less and less like our father. You got his green thumb, his ability to change. I can only hope my dying weeds don’t tangle with the beautiful roots you’ve fought so hard to grow. 

These thoughts hit me with such a ferocity, I am left speechless. With a whispered truth that’s just as much yours as it is mine, I am harshly reminded of all the things that make you my sister. I’m hopeful that there might be something good to come out of this family, but scared for what that might mean for you. 

I can’t possibly do what you’ve just done easily and be that honest. I struggle to find the right series of words to string together. The only things I can think to say only has the potential to make things worse. How do you reassure someone when what they’re worried about is an inevitability? So, in my predictable, cowardly fashion, I don’t say anything; I let your question go answered under the guise of letting my silence speak for itself. I know it doesn’t bother you, anyway — whatever I might’ve said, there’s no doubt you already know. After all, you’ve always understood me better than anyone.  @nosebleedclub prompts, march xxv. DNA

[captain-mj]

*slides briefcase across the table*

You know what I’m here for.

(Please please give them both animal ears and wings. Please I will kill myself if you don’t🥰🥰)

If you want to read this as König being mildly obsessive or that his species actually has soulmates, that is up to you guys. Vote in the comments or something lol

If you guys want a part 2, send me an ask!!

König stalked through the underbrush, listening closely. He felt distinctly out of place in this heavily plant filled area. Brambles and vines clung to his legs as he walked. 

The trees weren’t too bad though. Tall and looming. 

His presence must’ve scared everything living off besides a few chirping bird. 

There was no indication he could really point out. Nothing that screamed you’re about to be attacked. 

He knew though. Right as the person descended on him. Huge moth like wings blocking out the goddamn sun as the blade flashed in their hand. 

König dodged it at the last second, pulling out his own knife. 

The person was… tiny. Well, for his species, he was probably a fine height. But König was close to 8’6 and this tiny person looked to be 5’10. Their wings flared out to make themself look bigger, the leather armor clinging to him. It was a fair bit more conservative to König’s. His face covered, sunglasses on. 

König’s own armor was metal pieces over his sensitive areas with fishnet like material to connect them. It was meant for ease of movement where this person’s looked to be made more to take hits. 

“Tiny…” König mumbled.

The person started to talk at him, but he didn’t understand the language. He moved closer to him and the person lashed out, their blades meeting in the air. 

Their wings were so pretty. König wondered what they’d feel like. Furry? Maybe?

König hummed and stared down at him. He was still hissing curses at him but he didn’t magically understand the language anymore than he did when he first started speaking. 

“König.” He said to the person before pointing at himself, not at all bothered by the blade that kept swinging at him.

The person paused and König repeated it, trying to show that was his name.

“Horangi.” He provided after a moment before trying to rush him. Why they were fighting was lost on König. Maybe he had accidentally got on his territory?

König grabbed his arm and flipped him to the ground, pinning him down with his weight against Horangi’s back. His thighs were on either side of his hips, hand on the space between his shoulders. 

Horangi looked… embarrassed. König could just barely see his eyes behind the dark glass over them. 

“Don’t feel bad. I am ve-” Horangi did a move, flipping them over. He put the blade to König’s throat.

König looked up at him. Oh. He was very pretty. The wings blotted out the sun, making shadows fall around him. His hands settled on his hips. His own skin had swirls of gold all over it, making dizzying patterns that in a way complimented the dark splotches of Horangi’s wings. He blinked up at Horangi, smiling. 

Horangi looked irritated at him, though substantially less angry. Blade pressed harder against his throat. König exposed his throat more in response. His hood covered all of his face but his eyes, but even through the fabric, the blade still managed to press right against his jugular. 

König flipped them again, this time between Horangi’s legs, his hands pressing the wings down. They were furry feeling. And very soft. Horangi immediately started to kick at him but seeing as König was between his legs, it didn’t really work. His arms went to hit him and he caught his wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. 

It didn’t really occur to König how intimate the position probably felt until Horangi looked at where his hips were pressed against Horangi’s inner thighs. 

Ah. 

Oops?

Horangi stared at him, a flush clear on the little bit of skin König could see. He pressed the tiniest bit closer. 

His team wouldn’t be there for a while since they split up. 

König got flustered and went to pull away but Horangi’s legs wrapped around him and pulled him back. Ah. He could’ve easily pulled away. Horangi wasn’t in the position to get much leverage, even though König could feel the strong muscles underneath. 

It wouldn’t be a crime to… He pressed just a tiny bit closer, despite how flustered he was. Horangi purred, rolling his hips. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

König flushed and gently let go of his wrists to grab his waist instead. Tiny. He rolled his hips back, feeling a delightful pressure against his bulge. 

After some consideration, he pulled on Horangi’s laces, watching the armor loose before he could take his pants off. Horangi immediately smirked at him and even through the mask, König could see it. 

How come even though he was pinned and König was the one pulling at his clothing did it still feel that Horangi was in control?

König flushed and suddenly felt rather embarrassed but he pressed closer, wanting more. Horangi took König’s clothes off quickly, wings fluttering slightly with excitement. They started to grind against each other before König got his hands on him, turning him over so he was on his front. 

Horangi went to pull away and König bound his hands, stroking his wings gently. He followed the outline of them and watched him tense before shuddering into his grip. König had oil in his gear for his weapons that he poured over his fingers to gently push into Horangi. One hand stayed on his shoulder to keep him down, hearing his gasp of surprise followed by very soft moans. It was so sweet sounding. 

König purred at him and laid over his back as he worked him open. With how small he was, König wanted to be careful. He kept his mask on and gave Horangi the same dignity, nuzzling against his shoulder. Horangi’s eyes were closed tight as he moaned and whined, pressing back against his fingers. His eyelashes fluttered as König’s fingers dug in deeper. 

König pulled away and got the rest of his gear off, keeping Horangi pinned. He glanced up at König, batting his eyelashes and trying to look at him. 

König got flustered and quickly tried to distract. His body was… He had more of the swirls and scars and he did not find himself very pretty. He very much doubted Horangi would find him pretty. 

Instead, he lined up, wrapping his arms around him so his back was pressed to König’s chest. 

“I know you can’t understand me, but just relax.” König cooed and Horangi flushed more, leaning up. The binds on his wrist kept him from moving too much. Gently, carefully, he pushed into him, surprised by how warm he felt. He was also so perfectly tight. 

Horangi tensed up and König gently rubbed his back until he relaxed again so he could keep pushing into him. 

“Good boy.” 

Horangi murmured something in his own language at him, legs shaking slightly. König held his hips to keep him stable, not wanting him to fall. He thrust in, hearing Horangi wail. 

“You’re so much more sensitive than my previous partners.” König mumbled to him. “I want to… touch you more. Your skin is so soft.” His hands trailed down his sides, feeling him all over. He gently tugged his wings and Horangi’s back arched, a soft moan breaking from his mouth. 

His thrust grew faster and he did… something that had Horangi scratching at his binds, trying to shove him back against him. 

König flipped him on to his back again, pinning his tied hands above his head as he thrust into him again. His cock made a small bulge in Horangi’s stomach and if he had the time, he’d love to mark the area. Honestly, he wanted to stay there and mark every inch of Horangi. Bite and lick his way across his whole body. 

But they were two strangers and not much else. He shouldn’t get so attached. They also didn’t have much time. 

König put his forehead on Horangi’s and thrust in again, getting the same result as before. He pounded into the nerves in Horangi’s body, feeling him start to tense and pant. Horangi yanked out of his grip to yank his mask down. His fingers tangled themselves into König’s hood as his head fell back. 

König looked at his gorgeous face. The soft skin, the scars on either side of his mouth that looked like whiskers. He wondered where they got there. 

He wasn’t paying attention.

Horangi lifted his mask and kissed him. 

König felt panicked. Did Horangi’s species considering this as intimate as König’s did? 

His heart started to pound as he melted into Horangi. 

Something curled through his thoughts. 

My heart. 

My stars.

My love. 

König came in him, quickly stroking Horangi to help him finish. He’d have to take him home. He would have to get his bed fixed so it would be shorter. The way it was Horanig would have a problem getting on it. 

Horangi came and then sank his teeth into his bindings, ripping straight through it. He flipped König before standing up and stretching. 

“What are you…” Horangi shut him up with another kiss and König’s eyes closed instinctively. 

Please keep kissing me. 

Horangi pulled away and was gone before König even opened his eyes. He had to clean himself up, alone. This feeling was not nearly as nice as the feeling of being kissed. 

“König.” His hand swiveled to see Ghost of all people. Catching him crying. Ah, that’s embarrassing. “You okay?”

“I… uh…”

“You reek of sex.” 

“I think I found my soulmate and they left!” König threw himself at Ghost who grimaced.

“Oh… Wow. Um.. Huh…”

“They kissed me. Twice!”

Ghost pulled away. “Seriously?? Twice? And they just left you?”

“Yes!”

Ghost patted him, which was a bit awkward since König was almost a foot taller than him. “Don’t worry buddy. Uh.. Shit look this is more Price’s thing. If it’s meant to be, I’m sure you’ll see him again?”

König started to cry again.

“Okay, okay. Um.. Do you want me to help you lookkfor him?” Ghost did not look the happiest about this idea.

“Yes, please.”

[schmedterlingfreud]

Better late than never, finally Luca had his cinema release even here in Italy! 25th of April, a National Holiday. This makes perfect sense, right? I wonder if that was a marketing strategy or something like this. No school, no work? Come to the movies, Italian people!

I booked my ticket online. Ticket for one, please.

This is my first all alone cinema experience. In truth, my brother offered to come with me, but I denied. I have nobody else (friends, relatives) to ask for, but I think I would have come by myself regardless. I wanted to be alone with my emotions only, like I was always been while watching the movie alone, in my home, thousands and thousands of times. Or, this is what I believed.

The day before I had my night shift at work. Came home at 6 am, after being excited all night thinking about this experience. I'm very tired, so I try to sleep a little bit. I don't want to be exhausted, I want to enjoy myself, and I set my alarm clock just in case. When I woke up I don't bother myself for breakfast/lunch. My stomach is knotted in twists, and popcorn for brunch sounds nice.

It's a gray and chilling April day. A perfect weather for a cinema date, even if I was hoping for a little bit of sun.

Anyway, I immediately buy myself my favourite popcorn: toffee flavour. :)

This place is nearly desert. Just the two guys collecting tickets, one of them behind the snack bar, and few families, or just father and son. What kind of movie are they gonna watch? Luca? Godzilla? Kung Fu Panda?

I try to entertain myself with this kind of questions, slowly nibbling my popcorn, because my heart is beating faster and faster, my belly hurts and my legs are beginning to shake. My head is heavy, like filled with water. My eyes blurred for a certain kind of sadness.

I wonder how this experience would have been if I wasn't alone. It would have been nice to have a friend to share this joy and happiness with. A friend to laugh with, to cry with, or just to enjoy the moment, this little and meaningful sparkle of life.

I think about this singular situation: going all by myself to watch a movie that talks about the gift of friendship.

In the cinema hall I'm not alone but there are very few people. Ten or less people?

It's 2 pm, nobody go to the movies so soon, so our room is small. I think it's better this way. It will be just like at home, intimate, quiet, but with a bigger screen and a better sound. And with my popcorn bowl :)

I chose the last line of chairs to not have someone behind me. Maybe I'm gonna sob a little, and I don't want to embarrass myself. Fortunately, nobody seems to care about a single little girl sitting all alone during a family movie. That's cool, I think.

Every time a movie trailer ends and there's that little black space before the next one, my heart skips a bit and my hands grip the armrests. I'm sweating cold.

"Ohmygodohmygod, that's it, is it time? Another commercial? Is the movie starting?"

And finally it starts.

At the beginning, I was already sobbing. A drunk smile printed on my burning lips. I was waiting for this moment for months, or even for years, from the very first summer when the movie aired on streaming only.

During the introduction scene, underwater, in the fish village, the background music stabs my chest and pierces my poor little heart, opening a window to the first time I've heard it. Memories about that happy and lonely summer, so dear to me.

I still think about that surreal summer of 2021, about that sweet and burning feeling of love, melancholy and sadness this movie gifted to me.

After that, things went downhill for me. What followed was in fact the worst period of my life. I think about how Luca was one of the little joys that remained close to me. The friend I didn't have. An hour and a half to feel less alone, to find a place where I could pretend my problems didn't exist. I think back to the deep feeling of nostalgia I used to experience every single time, returning in Portorosso. The happiness of a place and a time where everything is simpler, just like a world imagined by a child. Many criticized Luca for being a "too simple" movie, yet it has always been that simplicity that comforted and moved me, that gave me a peace of mind that I thought I couldn't find on my own, and I will always be grateful for that.

Luca is a movie about friendship and inner growth, of that troubled time between childhood and coming of age where you have to choose your path, your own way of life.

For many of us, childhood is a time remembered with sweetness and nostalgia. I'm not sure if this is the case for me. Too shy, too quiet, too introverted… even as a child I struggled to make friends and be among them. I've never found a place, or a group of people, to belong to.

Maybe this is the reason why this movie touches me deeply. It gives me back something, a connection, that I have never had and that perhaps I am still looking for, despite having resigned myself to my loneliness. I'm still alone on my tower, I guess.

When I exit the movie theater, it's not so cold anymore. A chilling wind is still blowing from the mountains, but clouds are thin, and a surprisingly hot sun is smiling at this spring afternoon.

I don't immediately jump in my car, even if I have to go the supermarket for my grocery shopping. I wait, I sit on the steps, I lick my lips indulging in that sweet caramel popcorn taste, and I think. I think about my life, my past battles, what the future is holding for me. I fear this question, I fear my solitude, I fear myself, my insecurities, and all that hard paths I will have to cross all by myself because, deep down, I know I will be alone.

In my adult life, I wonder if I still have the right to hope or to wish for something or someone.

To hope for a friend, someone to make me feel important or special, or simply to share a hug with after a bad day. "I'm here for you, no matter what. You don't have to stay hidden in your tower of solitude anymore."

I have no idea what life will hold for me from now on, but I know that Portorosso will be there for me. And I won't be so alone anymore.

... thank you for reading. :)

Remember to take care of yourself, always. 💙

[katsigian]

There are some things that I truly love and appreciate that I found within fandom spaces. I found some amazing friends that I hold dear to me (you know who you are and if you think I don't mean you, I most certainly do). I found my best friend, I found my life partner. For a while, I found a community that I felt safe within. There's nothing like bonding over OCs with friends - sharing headcanons and ideas, sharing your art and VP. I am truly grateful that I have my people I can do that with and I am so grateful for my wonderful mutuals. I'm excited to share things with all of you and I'm excited to see all of your ideas and creations

But, at the same time, fandom can be a slippery slope and being too involved with it means that you're putting yourself at risk of being a target for when things go bad. Not always, but it does happen, and good people end up being hurt for no good reason. And because of my experience with that, I've made the decision that I'm not going to tie myself down to one fandom anymore. I am now effectively both fandom-less and multifandom

Meaning that I will take part wherever I feel comfortable to, but I won't let myself be tied down and hurt again. I have all of my mutuals that I'm going to happily share from and I'll share fandom related things, but there will be a certain level of detachment from the bigger fandom as a whole. I just want to exist in such a way that allows me to interact with the people who also are here just to create and share things and to enjoy other's creations. That's all I really want - to exist and to create and to talk about all of my silly little guys with my mutuals and friends that make me happy. In any fandom, for/about any piece of media and about any characters, both canon and OC

What does this mean? It basically means that I'll be careful about how I interact and who I interact with. I'm not interested in being a part of discourse or drama within any fandom and if it happens that someone wants to pull me in, I'll be removing myself. The only time that I will pick a side is when something is blatantly harmful to people - bigoted behavior, racism, terfs, hate-speech, bullying, etc. I will not interact with it and will be blocking people taking part. Otherwise, I like to operate on a live and let live basis - the way I see it is we're all interacting on the same playground and sometimes we'll share the same swingset, other times not. And if you're on the swings when I'm not, I won't go push you off of them, etc etc

I'll keep everything on my blog clearly tagged so others can filter what they'd rather not see, in the same way that I filter out what I don't want to see. If I don't share something or if I don't follow someone, it's never mean-spirited, targeted, or personal. If I see something I don't like or don't agree with, I'll simply scroll past (live and let live). I hope I'm given the same treatment and understanding. I just want to exist and create, I've had my fill of being dragged into things when I didn't want to be and I'm done with that

Again, none of this is mean spirited, and I'm not targeting apecifically anything or anyone. I just needed to explain what's been on my mind for a while now and my decisions going forward with this blog <3

[leffee]

Day 22: Animal shelter

“How about this one?” Minka pointed at the cute little pug sitting in its compartment, chewing on a squeaky bone toy. 

“Hmm.” Penny walked up and checked the name. “Puddles, huh? Aww, that’s quite adorable.” She smiled softly, but still, she was not convinced. “But I don’t know…”

“Then how about this one?” Zoe called her over to where she was eyeing another dog. “I think she’s magnificent.”

Penny couldn’t help the wide smile when she saw a cavalier king charles spaniel reacting to her by barking and wagging her tail. “She does look great, but I just don’t know.”

“Penny, honey, I hate to be impatient, but…” Minka who bounced over to them exchanged glances with Zoe who hesitated, “we have been in here for a while and so far you’re unsure about each dog.”

“I know,” Penny sighed and continued strolling slowly, the small compartments lining the walls on her both sides, the dogs reacting to her with so much energy not even Minka could compare. “I think they’re all great, but at the same time I can only take one, so I want it to… click, I guess. Something just needs to tell me that it’s the right dog for me, but I don’t want to limit myself either.”

“Maybe you should get a cat instead then? Maybe they’ll be easier to-,” Minka paused her chatter once Penny stopped abruptly in front of one of the bigger compartments. “Hm?” She and Zoe both moved to see what kind of dog their friend was inspecting.

As soon as Zoe did though, “...I don’t know about this one, Penny.”

“I want her.”

“She…” Zoe checked the name. “Lady, yes, she looks quite frazzled.” The three girls stared at the older dalmatian. Lady wasn’t asleep, but contrary to most dogs she didn’t react to the arrival of a new potential adopter.

“That’s exactly why I want her.” Penny stopped fixing her eyes on the dog instead giving Zoe a look, making her flinch a little. “Look, she clearly doesn’t think she has a chance, poor thing. Most people want small, cute, young dogs, and I understand that, but if everyone only thinks of owning those, who will help dogs like Lady? She deserves to live however long she has in the best environment possible, not in some cage-like area,” Penny finished but now she was the one to flinch upon noticing the tears in the corners of Zoe’s eyes. “Oh, Zoe, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, I just… uh…”

“No, it’s alright, I understand what you’re saying.” Zoe wiped the few tears away and smiled. “I'm not upset that you corrected me, I was just moved by your words.”

“Tell me that.” Penny turned to Minka - she was not crying at all, but her gaze was fondly placed on Lady. “Well then, get her!”

“Right! Give me a moment.” Penny turned on her heel to look for a worker.

While she was gone, Zoe and Minka lingered close to Lady’s space, though Minka couldn’t stop herself from greeting all the remaining dogs, their barks now lessened but still filling the air. While the dalmatian still didn’t move from her spot, they both could have sworn they saw her looking at them more often, barely glancing, but definitely paying attention to them especially when Minka started cheering her on.

“Don’t worry, Lady! You’re gonna get adopted, I promise.” A wag, a second one, a third one…

Those wags might have been hesitant in nature, but the immediate speed up when Penny returned with a worker who opened the compartment was undeniable. Once they all exited the shelter, with Penny barely being able to hold Lady in place even on the leash, they all knew the choice made was the right one.

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

Feels weird saying that knowing that my dog was not from one, but I was also like 10 at that time, anyway, if you want a dog, adopt it from a shelter, k? And don't forget about older and/or bigger dogs, they're less "popular" but still need a home.

[uncleasad]

for that fic ask meme - 14, 26, 50, 53, 55

14. what’s your worst writing habit?

Oof! My entire writing process is one giant bad habit, so it’s hard to pick the worst part 😂

I know I just reblogged that post about ignoring the tyranny of the daily word count, but I’m going to say not trying to write a few words every day, or a sentence a week, or something like that…I let myself get into writing droughts that go on and on and on (and, yes, I’m busier than I was in 2020 and 2021, but I love writing and doing so always makes me feel good), so trying to stop those pauses before they become droughts is something I need to do to break a bad habit.

26. do you like to write one-shots or series, and why?

Both? I write what the idea I have calls for, I guess? (Almost all of my series are collections of one-shots; I have never thought of writing a series consisting of multi-chapter fics, but one kinda sneaked in there 😳)

I enjoy—and sometimes specifically choose an idea because it fits—writing one-shots because they’re a good way for me to get back into writing when I’ve been too busy with life or bogged down in one of my long WIPs. Last Christmas’s Mischief and Mistletoe is a great example of this: short, self-contained, and seasonally relevant 😏 I liken these sorts of fics to artists doing a doodle or quick sketch as a warm-up.

Sometimes while writing a one-shot I’ll think of something that will open the door to a sequel, sometimes there’ll be nothing specific but nothing to rule out more in the same vein (e.g. the Tales from the Salvatore Kitchen series), and sometimes readers will have a suggestion I hadn’t thought of that I love that will turn a one-shot into a series of one-shots.

It’s nice to have a series or two where you enjoy the world/setup, because it’s fun and easy to dip back in and write some more (so all the benefits of a one-shot) and you (I!) can develop ideas, characters, and events without feeling guilty about not updating (vs a single multi-chapter fic where readers have started reading and want more 😏); there’s less expectation.

(My true favorite things to write are the big, expansive, complex stories, but they’re simultaneously my least favorite for all those reasons 😂)

50. do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind? 53. when writing, do you have an outline? and do you stick to it?

These two are related, so I’ll tackle them together. I’ve linked to and written about George RR Martin’s post about gardening before, so there’s good background there and I’ll (try! to) make this the short version.

I mostly have a lightweight plan for what I write: a collection of scenes, or some important character beats or plot points, and often, but not always, an idea of what the ending is (sometimes my idea for the fic is “I want to write this scene that is probably somewhere in the middle of an actual fic 😂 but more often it instead is “this would be a fun situation to throw them into; let’s see what happens!”). That’s as close as I’ll get to an outline 😳

I’ll often also make a series of notes as I’m writing, again of the same types of things as in the “plan,” plus dialogue and details, as a sort of “living outline” for what’s next/coming up. But nothing formal or well-structured (which does make it harder to do those bigger stories, naturally). I have hated outlines since elementary school, so…

I’ll diverge from what I have “planned” any time I have an idea I really like or think will improve the story, although to my recollection it rarely happens, and when it does it’s more small changes. I’m much more likely to split “planned” chapters and make a fic 4x longer than I originally thought it would be 😂

So, needless to say, I mostly write what comes to mind. Sometimes that’s filling in the big blank spaces between things I know I want to include, and sometimes that’s deciding where the whole story itself will go. (My mind is wont to come up with crazy twists and tangents #this is the way my mind works 😂)

55. do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

I don’t think I have any WIPs that I’ve started writing that I never intend to come back to/finish. I have an entire laundry list of WIPs that I have not written on in months or years, though.

My story as a current fanfic author goes like this:

Started writing Have At Least One Totally Epic Love in spring 2020, ran out of steam/got stuck near the pivotal moments.

Had an idea for After Ten Long Years and started writing it to try to work through that block, but got stuck on it.

Had an idea for Old West Hosie; started writing it to work around that block, then got stuck on it, too.

Had an idea for Hosie Alternate Realities; started writing it to work around that block, then got stuck there, also 😳

[Cue Hope Mikaelson: “Love, Lose, Grieve, repeat”]

At some point in there, I wrote the first one-shot in the Tales from the Salvatore Kitchen series, You Complete Me, to break the cycle and publish something, which turned into 3 more seasonal one-shots (initially), and then I finally finished Have At Least One Totally Epic Love, almost exactly 1 year after I had left off. 2021 I think was a pretty good year, lots of shorter works finished, but also several more big works started where I once again ran out of steam/got stuck/got distracted by the shiny new idea 😂

(Also, after the experience with Have At Least One Totally Epic Love, I rarely actually write and publish things serially unless I have a really, really good idea of the scope of the fic and also know I’ll have decent amounts of writing time—so there’s nothing out there that readers would perceive of as abandoned. The biggest example of a fic I’ve written and published serially since HALOTEL is And I Will Always Love You, 8 chapters, 32K words, written from February to May.)

So approaching 200K words of incomplete WIPs now, but nothing I intend never to finish.

Thanks for asking! Lots of great choices 😀 Hopefully I didn’t bore you to sleep with the answers!

[alllinesarebeautiful]

Day 412 Art meditation, July 19  

Dear You, 

“Growth can also feel like a breaking point”, I read recently, and this last week felt like a breaking point. Posting photos of tired -me and recharged by Mother Nature-me …

After every nadir of my life, when I think that’s the most depressed I can be, there is another bottom, which is not really the definition of “nadir”, but there we go. I have learned that I am resilient and that is my heart-space. The depth of my occasional depression is equal to the largeness of my heart-space. And the more I am IN my heart-space, the more my ego freaks out, and so I end up in a depression again. The main point is that I’m onto this rollercoaster and try to make new adjustments with awareness. 

If my mind has the power to shove me into a 4 day depression, then my mind has the power to connect me to my heart, too. I AM DECIDING. 

If only my rugged heart-journey could help more people connect to their hearts … Because once we are there, we will have ONE political party …

I am remembering the Oscars after the pandemic, when one of the themes was being more transparent about who did what gig work before this big movie career of theirs … I loved that Oscars, just a little less inflated, and more real. Being transparent is a heart activity, and one of my core values …

One of the gig jobs I had during my last years in NYC after I lost my Dream creative graphic design art director job, was work for three sisters who owned a coat checking company. It was one of my favorite jobs I’ve ever had. Put on the red lipstick and float into high society of Manhattan with my black coat-checking form-fitting pants and shirt and just WATCH: What makes me so different from these mega wealthy and successful people?  Victoria Secret’s big fashion show, the Glamour Woman of the Year at the Metropolitan Museum, where I peed in a stall next to Selma Hayek, and Phillips Auction house on Park Avenue. 

My favorite part was the Coat Checkers I worked with - most of them were Extras for movie sets, waiting for their next extra gig, always auditioning, always believing a bigger opening could happen. They LOVED the NYC actor community, everybody loved movies, including me. I met a coat-checking married couple who lived in a tiny, dark apartment and were poor as church-mice, and didn’t care, because this was exactly where they wanted to live, and what they wanted to do. Being around them filled my soul up…

As a highly sensitive person I needed to get out of NYC, and 9/11 was the last straw of intensity for me, but I will always be grateful to NYC for giving me such huge Yes’s into my self-educated graphic design career. Those years taught me that if I follow my Intuitive Heart, and do what I love, graphic design - even if it meant throwing away an entire BA degree in German and Women’s Studies - that the Yes’s will just start happening EASILY and EFFORTLESSLY. I’ve read tid bits about the Quantum leap, and this must have been that, and now that my siblings have point blank said “no we will not become supportive Members of whatever it is you are doing”, I get to say exactly what I want to say. 

Those years in Manhattan, especially the Art Director job in Wall Street, the meetings on top of the World Trade Center, FAO Schwarz building, were some of the happiest of my life. The ‘energy’ of those years felt like a miracle: I knew myself, I showed up, I connected and I asked for a lot of money, and I got a lot of money, I delivered. I wasn’t pushing …  It’s interesting that I wasn’t working with any coaches then, I had this natural ability to listen to my Heart. The same heart space that is in all of us, if ONLY we could each learn how to tap into that space…

It is harder NOT to push when I’m in so much physical pain, and that’s the only issue I have with gig work now and all the driving I’m doing.

I read Sir Ken Robinson’s book “The Element” the year when I was packing up my house on the East Coast to get ready to move back to SF for the 2nd time. I find the point of “The Element” soothing - that my creative tribe is out there, I just haven’t found you yet. I’m listening to my heart for guidance…

That year I also read Brené Brown’s “Daring Greatly”, “Gifts of Imperfection”, “Rising Strong” and watched her two TEDx talks on Shame and Vulnerability, repeatedly. 

I even had my astrological chart read for one 3 hour morning, as a way of stepping out of the box, and the messages were filled with juicy, intuitive nuggets. It was the beginning of breaking out of old molds and expectations and learning how to listen to my heart… This is also a longer story!

Reading books have always helped me connect to myself and my Heart and these 4 books, 2 Ted Talks and one Astrological chart reading helped me feel buoyant.

I don’t know how to end this post … I just feel like all humans are trying to find our hearts … and our way to each other … And our ego-spaces hate it. Our ego-spaces just want things to stay the same, hate change and mystery and the worst of all … Trusting and letting go … Which, even as I write this, a part of me just wants some stinking answers and to control this situation. 

Thank god for heating pads.

◎

Lots of love, (because I’m convinced that on a pure heart-level, I love everybody),

Anne ◎

Ⓒ 2024 Anne Hunsicker | All Lines Are Beautiful. All rights reserved.

[sunsafewriting]

Hey :). I was hoping that maybe you would have some nuggets of wisdom regarding story pacing and plot. Everything you published on ao3 is so well paced and worded in such a way that the reader can vividly picture every scene. Sooo.. question: how do you plan out the plot of a story? And when you don't necessarily have a plot, how do you make sure that the scenes you want to write are well-connected/paced within the bigger narrative?

Anyways, I hope you have a great day. And answer or not, I will keep enjoying your work just the same.

hey mate! thanks for thinking of me but you have actually come to a terrible place for pacing advice bc that is definitely the part of writing that i struggle with most lol . but i shall tell you how I cope and hopefully some of that helps you (?)

basically I cannot plan to save my life. fic or original writing --- if I set out to outline, I come up with bad ideas and stress myself out of even starting. all the stories I plan are MUCH worse than the ones I don't. for some writers planning works great and if that's you that's awesome!!! but I am doomed to walk another path

what I do instead of planning a story is think about what I (me, personally, bc I write fic from a place of indulgence) WANT out of it. like, what's the stuff I wanna see? to me, the essential aspect of pacing is making that stuff feel important and worth it and earned. it has to have emotional weight or it won't be what I'm after .

that's also how I try to make scenes are connected; they're all focused around a general Vibe or Feeling I want to construct.

for example, in Do A Flip, what I wanted was all of them getting to become a family. and so I worked backwards from that --- what are the steps within steps within steps that lead them there? what little aspects can we put together to create that kind of image?

for pacing it's also handy sometimes to ask what the best bit about NOT being where you're aiming for yet is. like, what is worth lingering on and enjoying that isn't the end goal? what fun thing can you only have at THIS moment of the story, rather than later? it makes each part more fun to write .

I started with a much shorter version of the fic (14k) where I wrote a shoddy draft of the whole thing from Diego's pov, and then I went back and added a ton more pieces.

that's also something I use to help myself out (and because personally I love to write this way) --- I write in pieces.

this improves my pacing, because then I'm not having to constantly consider the whole structure. instead, I'm thinking about what the point of an individual fragment is --- what am I showing in this scene, and what does it mean? often it's just something small (like I want to show that Beatrice is comfortable with Ava holding her hand, or that Lilith tries to be friendly to Diego) but I function much better with a hundred bite sized pieces than a massive whole.

in these piece-style stories, I rely on the reader drawing connections between different parts and inferring rather than a smooth flow. it's just something I enjoy as a narrative form --- I like gaps and spaces where you figure bits out yourself.

I also rearrange a ton. scenes get cut and pasted to be in a new spot all the time bc I realise as I go that they could be tweaked and fit better somewhere else. when I'm writing, I also often just leave a break and write SCENE, and then jump on to the next one --- like I don't know how I'm going to fill it in yet, but I know I need something to separate out two more similar bits, or a different POV, or to slow down before X Event happens. half the time I have no idea where a chapter is going until the first version is almost done.

the other thing about pacing for me is that devastatingly I rely heavily on rewriting, editing, and cutting beloved scenes that don't super gel. chapters take SO long to come out bc I rewrite them 2-4 times. a lot of better (and less highly strung) writers don't need to do that much so please don't feel like it's necessary but it's definitely necessary for me bc without it my work would be a total shambles lmao. I also find the promise of rewriting means I'm less likely to freeze up or stare at a blank page because I will go back and improve/tidy up later.

I also think paying attention when you feel pretty meh about something is helpful for pacing. for example, I wrote a 6k version of chapter 3 of Favourable Conditions where a lot more happened, but I didn't like it. I got my girlfriend to read it and she said "the whole first part feels like you're racing to get to the second part, and then it all settles down". and she was totally right --- I had a scene I was excited to get to so I gunned it, but the overall feeling of the chapter suffered as a result. I split the chapter in half and then rewrote the whole first half as a chapter in its own right, and decided to focus on what fun stuff I could do there, rather than just skipping through to get to the rest. I ended up adding scenes that were the ones people in the comments liked most. I also ultimately decided to change the next few plot beats afterwards, based on how that went.

I would also say that generally speaking, not a lot happens in my stories. like, I go for smaller stakes and smaller actions that slowly add up --- mostly bc I'm writing very chilled out stuff. but if you're trying to build a character to the point of doing something drastic, it's a different ballgame to escalating them to some minor change. both are super doable, you've just got to keep in mind what you're aiming for. I like minor stakes because I enjoy trying to make small things like washing dishes or going to the park matter. it's also just the vibe of where I'm at right now --- previously I've written things that were a LOT more dramatic.

if you're really struggling, I would also suggest starting with writing something short. your blog is blank so I couldn't tell what kind of writing you might be interested in, but it's much easier to tweak and change and judge these things if you're working in a smaller area --- like a 2-4k oneshot --- than if you sit down to write 80k. I literally never sit down to write 80k of fic I just accidentally end up doing it lmao.

I hope some of that is vaguely useful? I don't have a lot of wisdom to dispense bc as you can see most of my process is crutches for getting around having no natural sense of pacing. if you have any more specific questions about pacing a particular scene or idea I might be able to help more?

but good luck! 💛

[kaeyapilled]

u should tell me more about asa PRETTYPLEASE

AUGH I REALLY DONT HAVE MUCH. does it have to be only the genshin related parts? well yes ill stick to that because he has like four different flavors depending on what universe i put him in. okay so

this is roughly what he looks like. i thought i had more good picrews of him but i dont apparently<//3 well heres some fun facts about him like in general to start

- best friends with my oc sofia who. i haven't really put into the genshin universe. but if the people ask i can talk about her too loll

- ambulatory wheelchair user, typically uses a cane, has Some chronic illness that i dont really know which,, pots probably. unspecified chronic pain. but the thing is im not chronically ill or disabled myself so i need to search more stuff before im super confident exploring this side of his character lmao

- sadly he is just like baizhu. the chronically ill doctor trope is already filled in genshin but there's always space for someone else! right!

- not pictured here but sometimes i make him have wings. i still haven't decided if he should actually have them or not. when he has wings only one is functional so he can't quite Fly

- wings or no wings he likes birds a lot!

- i chose his name because it means healer or doctor in....hebrew i think? according to google? and it also means just. "wing". in my mother tongue portuguese so kshdksh hitting two symbolisms with one stone

- now focusing on the genshin part. his father is the actual doctor in charge of the cathedral infirmary but is currently on the varka expedition (look this guy's father is. I don't know what to do with him. like in any universe. idk if i give asa oc syndrome and make him a full orphan or if i just leave the man alone because he's a solid guy! a good father! anyways i digress) and asa is in charge sort of in a similar situation to jean being acting grandmaster.

- i think he's besties with barbara. she's like a younger sister. because i think hes around jeans age. (and dilucs and kaeyas i think all of them r around the same age)

- he has an anemo vision but don't ask me how he got it

- catalyst user and healer but do not ask me like what sort of talents he'd have i dont know. don't ask me if he's a 4* or a 5* either i don't know,, but if he were to have a banner his like. title? idk? would be, and this is kinda stupid, Healing Winds of Birdsong - does it not sound like something you'd read on a genshin banner. i think does

- hes very devout to barbatos but at the same time i kinda enjoy the idea of him. questioning some stuff about the archons and gods too. like those medieval(? do not quote me on this) philosophers who thought extensively about religion and the human condition and. etc. does this make sense

- if he knew the annoying bard is no one other than the anemo archon i think he'd combust

- he picks up his fantasy testosterone prescription at the alchemy shop. the image of albedo and sucrose coming up with hrt is just too dear to me

- i want him and kaeya to kiss just because im a kaeya lover and. why not. but i don't have anything developed about them At All forgive me

do you want to see my cringefail voicelines i wrote?

Something to Share: Did you know that Mondstadt alone has over three hundred species of birds? Around the city area, you mostly see pigeons and falcons, but the diversity in places with less human activity is much bigger. Also, a lot of the birds migrate during the winter months, towards warmer climates like Liyue and even Sumeru. Oh, and— um... Forgive me, I seem to have been talking for a while... It's a topic that interests me.

Favorite Food: I tend to like more savory dishes. In fact, Sofia won't let me cook anymore, because I "put too much salt in the food". You know, I don't see the problem. It tastes fine to me.

- oh!! on the topic of favorite foods! i tried coming up with a special dish for him and i ended up picking northern smoked fowl because. vibes. but its a stamina dish and i kinda wish his special dish was a hp one.,, but anyway:

Special Dish: Doctor's Orders

Asa's specialty. The same recipe for smoked fowl with vegetables that's been passed down in Mondstadt for years, with the doctor's own twists. It's a little heavy on the salt, but it tastes really good overall.

plus character voicelines

About Barbara: Barbara? Oh, we wouldn't manage at the cathedral if it wasn't for her. I have taught her a lot, but the healing techniques she comes up with never fail to amaze me. Her presence always brightens up the place and soothes even the most ill of patients. I hold her in very high regards.

About Rosaria: I can't say I approve of Sister Rosaria's negligence towards her duties in the church, or of her blatant disrespect towards the Anemo Archon. That being said... I think I admire her conviction to simply do whatever she wants. Perhaps trying to force her into the role of nun is a bit foolish. This is the city of freedom, after all, is it not?

About Venti: The bard? *sigh* Archons above. He'll sing beautiful melodies about Lord Barbatos, then turn around and immediately slur out the most sacrilegious things I have ever heard in my life. Being around him for too long is exhausting and he always brings trouble. Yet, I find that I can't truly dislike him. Heh, he's an interesting one for sure.

and my entirely self indulgent and overly long About Kaeya voiceline:

About Kaeya: Sir Kaeya? Way too much of a charmer. That overly confident attitude ought to backfire on him sometime. It's easy to get swept away in all his smooth talk, but after a while you start to see it for what it is: a convoluted way to either change the subject or make you the center of his jests... *sigh* Well... I suppose that, when he wants, he isn't entirely awful to talk to... Hm? What? Who– who told you that? No! Why would I go to the tavern "just to see him"!? That's– *ahem* It isn't like that. Is it that far fetched that I might enjoy a drink during my moments of leisure? It's not my fault if the Captain is there all the time... Hmph, did Sofia put you up to this?

yeah. what else can I say about him. i thought of writing character stories for him but couldnt find enough ideas. here's the only salvageable paragraph:

... Asa can recall exactly what Mother Maria told him when he came to her, realization still fresh in his mind, desperate for some sort of guidance.

"The winds lead each of us through different paths. Barbatos has granted you with the power to choose whoever you wish to be; that is part of His gift of freedom."

Like a gust of cool wind that brings with it epiphanies, something clicked inside his chest, like the pieces of a puzzle falling into place.

And it was on that day that the little girl who used to dream of nunhood grew into a sharp young man who named himself "Asa."

okay this is all I've got. for now

[chaoticacademicdemon]

Series Agogé, personal proyect

Chapter 1.1: “Aike”

On my way to the Agogé

What is a God? Many times I think about it when passing in front of the churches and temples of my city. After all, I live in Byblos, religion is around every corner. I understand that it is very important but I have never understood the need for so many places of worship in such a small space. Don't they tell us that we can pray to them and all that from anywhere? It really does not seem so bad to me, it is good to have so much variety but I think we have gone a bit too far.

This was where it all started after World War II. I pass in front of the statue that reminds us of Awakening Day, November 16 to be exact, the day old Ayin saw them for the first time. For a while I really liked that story, not because it was interesting, but because it happened where I lived. The Gods have always fascinated me much more unfortunately.

My city became a sacred and pilgrimage site and thus the population reached numbers never seen before, now it is what New York used to be.

In truth, I am very unlucky to have been born here, even with the great living conditions, the new capital-socialist system and the great advances in gender equality. Basically, I live in the center of today's world. I wish I had been born in Frankfurt like my father or in any other city where there was a definite God. How easy it would be to choose the protector God of your city, I can't do it because I would have to choose the entire pantheon.

If the Awakening hadn't happened, right now I would be going to the institute and not to the Agogé.Besides, I'm going to have to decide for myself a God. If I could choose, I would go for Ares or Hestia since they are the ones that could help me the most. That would have been the smart thing to do, but my 9 year old mind had to go where it shouldn't and now all my chances of making a normal pact are lost.

And here I am, I have arrived. I look at the huge planes surely full of students like me and I am filled with confidence to go through the goal. By the way, it is quite beautiful, it is a Peloponnesian style that is not exactly the most outstanding for its beauty but I love the way in which the vegetation has flooded even the highest parts. In front of me is the big square full of people eager for the start of their preparation for adulthood, but I don't want to spend three years doing math and push-ups, much less practicing with my Evepyoc. I want to go home fervently.

All motivation and confidence fade, and I put my hands in my pockets wearily. I turn around ready to leave, when a boy much younger than me approaches me, I can't say his age because I'm extremely bad at that, but he was much younger. I freeze completely when his eyes lock on mine and he stops in front of me. Please no.

- I knew it! This year you are entering the Agogé! I am a big fan!

- Yes, I don't doubt it, now if you let me...

- Are you leaving? Will you let me take a picture with you?

- Uh, well, you'll see...

- Please! I will get thousands of followers if I post a picture with you on my Insta!

- Yeah, but no thanks. I have to go.

- Oh, come on, just one please.I promise I won't post it.

- Yes, of course. - I sighed tiredly - You're lucky, today I'll let you, but in the description you put my real name and nothing else about me, understood?

Why does this happen to me? I don't want to make a bigger scene than what we are already causing, I hope not many people have recognized me, even though I am wearing very baggy clothes and a mask. My plan to get out of here until I calm down has been destroyed and now I really have to go in, thank goodness I skipped breakfast because I'm about to vomit.

At least my parents have brought my things this morning and I don't have to carry my suitcases like the rest of the students who come from abroad. I have only been able to enter this prestigious academy because of my proximity and my, how to say, turbulent past. Classes are taught in English in order to accommodate 70% international students. There is a very good admissions department and all parents dream of taking their children here to study at Agogé. It seems perfect, but right now my room seems perfect to me, not this place filled to the brim with strangers.

From the faces of some of my future classmates, it looks like I'll be the only one who isn't exactly excited about the idea of ​​a student jail that I won't even be able to get out of to go to the movies.

The good thing is that in here there is everything, like a mini city within another, so I doubt that I'm missing anything. I'll do things right, I'll go slowly, I'll get average grades and I'll make a couple of friends, when I realize it I'll have graduated and I'll be able to go home. Aike, focus on the positive, everything will be fine.

I don't like going out, I don't like people in general, so being in the middle of the square with 2,000 or 3,000 other people is like my worst nightmare. I hope I never have a nightmare like this, I prefer to sleep well. Good thing I have Hypnos on my side, otherwise I couldn't have slept well the previous nights. My almost dissipated stress increases exponentially when I see the director on stage and notice how the doors are closing behind me.

I quickly walk to a crowded corner and blend in with the crowd almost to the right corner of the square. The speech begins like any I have seen in my few years, the typical motivational speech for students who begin this stage of their lives with new hope, and then adds:

- With this already covered, I will proceed to explain the rules for the students of the Agogé in the Mégara academy. As you already know, students will not be able to leave the campus except for emergencies and the designated dates that parents will receive in an email. Starting with the important thing, the first thing you should do is turn on your mobile phones. I can assume that everyone has already downloaded the academy application on their phones, following the instructions that we sent when enrolling. Now they must create an account.It will ask for your email, use your full name followed by @mégara.agogé.lb and you can create your account as you would with any social network. Your username cannot be changed at any time, so choose wisely, there have already been many cases of graduating students with ridiculous names.

I follow his instructions and create my account, immediately a scream is heard that I suppose was intended to be Spartan. The rest of the mobiles also emit various noises, but none as shrill and embarrassing as mine. My screen goes white, with the phrase “wait for the next instructions” in all capital letters. Why can't they put an informative video on me and watch it from my house, or my future room? This is a waste of time, we all know what's coming, the points system, the level tests, the duels. I want it to end now, but the director continues her speech.

- The Mégara academy is governed by a points system. In each duel with a student, always carried out under the supervision of a teacher, the points agreed upon in advance will be played. For example, if we do a duel to 10 points, we both pay 10 and whoever wins gets 20. It's easy, right? At the end of the month, a count of points is made and a class will be assigned depending on these. The α rank, the most difficult to achieve due to its high achievement requirement, is also the most advantageous. Points are given weekly to all students and the higher the class, the more rewards.

The points seem something important but we have not managed to explain well what they are for.The idea behind the points is to achieve equal opportunities for all of our students.- I look now at how well he speaks and moves around the stage despite his cataracts. People pay attention to what you say, and now it's time for the most important part of your speech. -The points are obtained by merits, and it will be these merits that will pay for everything that is inside here. Food costs points, books, movies, video games, the basic expenses they may have will be paid with their own means and not with their families' money. In fact, the universal currency is not accepted in any of the establishments and stores. The residence halls are also paid with their points, the most luxurious one costs more but offers better conditions such as a gym, swimming pool and sauna, as well as a kitchen in each of the rooms, which are more like flats.

That interests me, I prefer to cook my own food. In Mégara they are super secret with their internal things, I only know a little about what my father told me and the basics that are known about the points system and all that, but all the services inside are secret. My phone finally reacts and I have access to the catalog of facilities, services, residence halls and my class schedule that is empty.

I also notice that I can buy an exit pass for an hour for 1000 points, I get used to the idea that I'm going to be locked up forever.

The director explains that the schedule varies from class to class and that these will be assigned after the level test. She shows us an area to leave our luggage and I see how my poor suitcases, which had been waiting for me all morning, are crushed by hundreds of them. So basically this is capitalism, great.

Oh no, all the people have gone to leave their bags and I am left alone, my camouflage in the crowd has been lost. I look towards the stage and notice the penetrating gaze of the director, which worries me a lot because, according to what I have been told, her eyesight is severely affected by age. And if...? No, no, it can't be. And that's when I hear her say:

- It seems that we have very interesting new students.

I am about to cry at this point and all I see is that they have posted the lists of the groups in the application I run to find where I have to go. Group 7, well, well, that's a good number. Now I'm going to do a normal job and I'm going to the best room I can find for today, then I'll distribute the points and see what I need.

I arrive first at the meeting point and greet the monitor. He's huge, bald and tattooed, which I was missing, but he's pretty nice. I want to do the test that is quick and go. Hopefully it's a theoretical exam, just focus, write and leave when you're done. I want to leave and we haven't even started.I hope they give me enough points to buy tissues because I can already feel the snot running down my face, at least I'm wearing a mask. People are arriving and when we are all headed to the training ground, I feel unstoppable, ready for anything.

I see the equipment and I understand that it's discus shooting. As long as Apollo doesn't come up with something weird, I'm fine. We organize ourselves and I am the second in the fourth row. There are four lines to shoot, with a ballistic dummy at the end of each and a stack of discs at the beginning of all. We are all prepared and by our reactions you can already tell who is going to do well and who is not. The girl in front of me is shaking, and I take advantage of the noise to reach out and touch her shoulder to check if she's okay, but I only manage to make her scream. She is she I did not expect.

- Are you OK?

"Yeah!" She says she struggles through the sweat that she has completely covered her face.

"Just grab it by the edges like this and extend your arm like this," she explained as she guided him through her movements. I notice the look she gives my black gloves, I guess she looks like she's sick or something, I don't know.

- Thank you! My name is Evelynn!

- Do you have to yell for everything?

- Yeah! Hey, she waits.

- I am Aike. Well, she touches you.

- Oh yeah. Yeah!

She did well for it to be her first time. She now she touched me, what little desire.

I get into position and shoot. Perfect, balanced, that does not stand out much but that is not a suspense. It could be between a 5 and a 7 if it's done over 10, so I'm about to walk away from the lines with my puck still in the air.This is when I feel some very familiar chills and feel a draft come out of my hand. "Aeolus" I whisper, about to have an anxiety attack, a plea, a sigh, a need for him to please not do what I think he's going to do. My prayers are not enough to stop the disc that, driven by an inexplicable wind, passes through the dummy and shoots across the field, having the monitor of another team to stop it before it hits their test.

With tears streaming down my face, I cringe and run to the back, hearing all the whispers and feeling all the stares from my companions. It seriously had to happen to me today, of all days. They won't leave me alone for a single second, they don't understand that I don't want to be the center of attention. I wipe away my tears and blow my nose with a squashed handkerchief in my sweatpants. Please someone did it better than me.

The instructor tells us the points of each one in alphabetical order at the end of the test. Out of 100 points I got 100 and Evelynn 45. I wanted to get 70 at the most, but now everyone is looking at me. We walk to the next test, thank the Gods there are only three and one is a theoretical exam according to what Alex, the monitor, told me.

.

.

.

(Don’t want this to be really long, I’m gonna make it into 2 parts, english is my second language, if there’s something to improve let me know, thanks for making it this far <3)

[potatopossums]

"what do you see in that dream?"

i see a place, a home. i see someone happy to see me, but able to hear me when i need space. i see someone who sits with me in the shower when i get so depressed or anxious that i can't hardly move. i see someone who i would hug on the couch, entirely unafraid, not even a thought of fear of you ever. i see someone I would wrap in a burrito and hold, fall asleep with on the couch. i see someone who i would try to comfort, and fail sometimes because comfort is not easy, even for the most empathetic of us. i see someone who would still show up even after misdirection. i see someone who would change after pain inflicted; i see growth and acceptance in myself. i see joyful memories looking back at things we shared, fully ourselves and happy. i see things i love because i love them, not because of anything else. i see you doing the same. and i see us working. it doesn't feel like a lie. it never felt like a stretch. it didn't feel like a fantasy. it felt like a real possibility. something that was right there. something that was always there, just smaller and less filled out, like a paper maché ball that grows bigger and bigger with every layer of memory added. it felt like it was all there. it felt like you were there with me. i felt like i was going exactly where i wanted. and you felt like you were scared, but wanted it so badly too. it felt like you wanted to try. it felt like you would make it there too. it felt like you would blossom so brilliantly that nothing could stop you. it felt like you'd overtake the sky, like you'd take down everything in your way, wrap it up, and make it beautiful. and it felt like i could do that beside you, like it truly would kickstart my brain, like my depression would disappear, crumbling away like a layer of stone on my outsides, real sun hitting my fresh skin. it felt like i would finally be human the way I wanted to be. it felt like everything was out there and nothing would end the world. nothing. not anxiety, not pain, not anything. all would be well again. the real, genuine optimism would return to me. fresh, hanging on tightly, self fulfilling, resilient and strong. digging those claws in, right where it should be. it felt like walking on a cloud and never coming down. and it felt like you'd be there too, the same experience, nothing holding you down, free of your shackles, alive and open just as you were meant to be, flying with a grounded sense of control, like a string connecting you to the earth, lightly pulling just to tell you where your feet are, a gentle reminder of what would always catch you when you fell. all of that on wood tiles and cool, sweaty laminate, in the shade of a home, under a hot sun, red earth in my lungs and between my toes, under my nails. and you. there. happy. both of us. perfect.

[the-gay-cousin-666]

YES! I've been looking for an excuse to talk about this, so bear with me while I go full essay mode.

First, I'll expand on the uncanny valey issues and then I'll talk more character design. For the sake of convenience, I will be refereing to the respective movies by year throughout the text.

To get my biggest grievance out of the way, THE EARS ARE TOO SMALL! If you look at a real cat's proportions, you'll see that in most cases (discarding overbred cats), their ears are roughly the same size of their face, especially in younger cats. With the humanoid cats in 2019, the faces have obvisouly different proportions to cats, so to fix this, the ears would have to be that much bigger to make it look more animal-like as opposed to a man with a halloween cat ears bandana on his head.

In the stage plays, the costume designers get around this with loud face paint and fluffy wigs that give the suggestion of ears and widen the face, so your brain subconsicously fills in the blanks. This is why 2019 Bustopher Jones looks less odd with his hat on.

To follow up on that, their ears or tails don't move in a way that is consistent with cat behavior. 1998 has to compensate for the lack of animated cat parts with very deliberate body language. They even hold or move their tails in certain numbers to add to the performance. 2019 had a chance to work on that with cgi and failed miserably to the point that I wondered if any of the directors had ever seen a cat. Yes in some cases their tails add, dare I even say compliment the dancer, but it's overshadowed by the constant, unnecesary quirks and twitches of their ears and tails that don't make sense anatomically and sometimes even communicate the exact opposite of the actors facial expression, body language and words. (This is by no means a diss on the actual cgi artists who had to do all that work, they tried their best in the horrible conditions.)

1998 has actors wear bodysuits so tight that at certain points I thought they would have benefited from a crotch guard or an extra layer of fabric (looking at you Rum Tum Tugger) and yet, they still look less naked than 2019 cats. Why?

When I watched the 1998 stage play the second time, I was jumpscared by how odd Tugger suddenly looked in the opening sequence. "Why does he look naked?" I repeated to myself over and over, until he appeared later on, and I realised he hadn't been in full costume until then. Most of the cats are not in full costume and makeup in the first song, the most obvious besides Tugger being Grizabella and Old Deuteronomy. This serves a purpouse. The opening number takes place outside of the narrative, and acts as an introduction to the viewer before the actuall show starts. Munkustrap talks straight to the camera/audience, acknowledging the meta nature of this part as well as the whole play. The costume changes play an inherent, important role. They add to the narrative instead of distracting from it.

With 2019, Tom Hooper decided to tone down or completely scrap most of the design choices that made the 1998 make sense. There is no space for suspension of disbelief. The clothes are worn and discarded willy-nilly, instead of adding any meaning to the performance (besides Gumbie Cat I suppose, but that number has been stripped of its point so much that I hesitate even to mention it). So then when he still keeps some cats partially clothed or have them take things off for no reason, it will automatically trigger the "omg they're naked" response in the viewer.

Case in point: Macavity has a hat and a coat at the beginning, but then does his number without either. The clothing doesn't serve any purpouse that we know of. Combined with the realistically rendered fur colour matched to his skin, it's almost as if they intended him to look naked.

Same thing goes for the Rum Tum Tugger song. Tugger has a coat that he - again - strips out of for no reason. And all the other cats are unclothed (besides Misto who is one of the few cats that have consistent clothing that has some purpouse), except the two toms who dance with Tugger for a bit. Why do they only have sneakers on, when that's the loudest way to communicate that someone is naked? It doesn't add anything to the performance. In fact, besides Skimbleshanks' song, there is no reason for any cat to wear shoes, and yet... It could be argued that the shoes are meant to add to character if the toms were given any character to begin with. As is, I can only speculate on why, and most of the explanations rub me the wrong way.

The truth is, there probably wasn't much of a reason for anything. Tom doesn't give any attention to the nuances the costumes add to character, or any of the source material in fact. This is most notably demonstrated in the 2019 Macavity song. While I don't think it was a good choice, I can guess what the thought process behind making Macavity a black cat was. It would have been more acceptable if it wasn't for the fact that THEY DIDN'T CHANGE THE LYRICS TO MATCH THAT! Taylor Swift still sings "Macavity's a ginger cat" and the whole schtick, and when Idris Elba appears he's obvisouly not ginger and very well groomed, just like all the other cats. You can't sing "there's noone like Macavity" and then have him look identical to all the other black cats. If you listen to any of the descriptions in the song, you would not have guessed they were supposed to be describing 2019 Macavity, because they're not. They're almost word for word from the original production. They did the same with Grizabella the Glamour cat. Why? Because TOM HOOPER DOESN'T CARE. He didn't care about elevating, expanding, or complimenting the source material or its creators. He wanted an Oscar grab with a star cast and that's the end of it.

Now I would like to add specifically to the point about Munk and Tugger being brothers. I fully agree with OP and I'd like to expand on that. Tugger and Munk have similar silhouets, but different markings, which is fine since they're supposedly from different litters (Tugger is younger). The key design-wise is when you look at Old Deuteronomy. It's his design that clearly shows that they're related. His costume combines both of the brothers' markings and silhouettes very sublty. When Munk and Tugger both stand at his side, it is glaringly obvious that while they maybe had different mums, Old Deuteronomy is without the doubt their dad. 2019 Old Deuteronomy looks nothing like either of the brothers. She's a white/ginger mix (?I'm not actually sure). Also, her mane is arguably the most accurate to a cat's, so why they couldn't give one to Tugger as well alludes me.

Mainly though, it's the way they interact in 1998 where you can tell the most. Tugger fucks around (both literally and figuratively) and messes with Munk, and Munk tries (and fails) to keep things in line (very noticable in the Pekes song) while Old Deut endulges both of them, smiling and laughing along. That is the familial behaviour completely erased from 2019.

Besides that slight tangent, I won't go into how 2019 completely butchered the characters, if you'd like an in-depth analysis of that, watch Why Cats is ACTUALLY a Bad Movie. Wonderful video essay that actually got me to watch 1998.

2019 reduces all the cats' interactions to a minimum for the sake of pushing Victoria to the forefront of everything, and the movie suffers for it. Great movies (and any fiction media) are made from good characters, and the way characters interact and elevate each other.

For Andrew's Cats being full of "I am" songs, the lyrics aren't the actual important part. It's what the performances show us beyond the words and what it leaves up for interpretation, creating a wonderful sandbox for the fandom to play in. By taking that away, the 2019 movie leaves behind nothing more than an impression of vanity and the memory of horrible humanoid cat creatures to have nightmares about.

If you've read this far, thank you for indulging me, and I hope that if nothing else, you were at least entertained.

ive been putting a lot of thought into why this:

triggers uncanniness more than this:

and i think it mostly comes down to the silouettes of the characters and the overreliance of cgi for the bodies.

in the stage productions of cats, there's a lot of work put into each cat's costume. unless the characters are intentionally meant to have similarities (e.g: mungojerrie and rumpleteazer, munkustrap and tugger, coricopat and tantomile, etc), they all look pretty distinct. even when characters have similar color pallets, they have distinct enough silouettes that it's easy to keep them separate in your head.

here is demeter, bombalurina, and jellylorum in the 98 movie. they have similar colors, but each detail in their hair, ears, shoulders, and even tails stands out and helps them look distinct from one another.

now let's take a look at the same trio in the 2019 movie.

despite each cat now having a different color pallet, they all have the same silouette and blend into the ensemble. each of the character is incredibly important to the cast, and instead of being easily picked out from the crowd, i had to look up demeter and jellylorum on the fan wiki just so i could remember what they looked like. honestly, if you didn't know what taylor swift looked like, would you be able to pick bombalurina from the crowd?

in my opinion, the cg fur definitely does not help. it smoothes out purposeful imperfections in the stage designs. also, oddly enough, almost none of the cats have any fluff around their heads, leading to a very weird silouette. they literally just look like humans with ears and tails.

just look at tugger in both films.

would you be able to believe that the 2019 version is supposed to be a big, fluffy maine coon cat? why is his silouette so different from 2019's munkustrap when they're supposed to be brothers?

in the 1998 movie (and all stage productions if we're being honest) it is incredibly easy to see these two are related. even without matching colors, they have similar silouettes.

in the 2019 version, munkustrap just looks like any other cat. i genuinely don't think anyone who has only seen the 2019 movie would know that tugger and munk are brothers, let alone that they are old deut's sons.

cats 2019 was a failure in many, many ways, including adapting the story and butchering the songs and characters. but it's so visually offputting because of the decision to smooth out any physical quirks the cats originally had in their designs. they're too sleek and just blend in with everyone around them. it's genuinely so disappointing to see such a colorful, vibrant, and uniquely costumed show turned into a muddy cg nightmare.

[mockiery]

Marc's entire existence has been about camouflaging. Being unseen and unheard. It helped him survive his childhood. It helped him hide from Steven. That's why he has such plain clothes, and so few possessions.

I made myself sad again. 😭

(in ref to these^^^ tags of mine)

You're absolutely right. I've talked his special interests/hyperfixations and I think after Randall's death especially he makes himself and his interests smaller, less distinguishable. If you don't wear the t-shirt for the thing you love, his mother no one will pick it out as something to belittle you over. If you don't take up space, if you don't take up attention...

Space, Star Wars, things considered nerdy and odd to have more than a passing appreciation for? Those go on the back-burner. But the Cubs? Sports are a more socially acceptable thing to get excessively excited about. So. Growing up, having Cubs merch, rooting for them, that can be just as much fitting in as the neutral clothes, the neutral existence.

And as he gets older, he doesn't really get to have interests. Those are for Steven. Steven gets to love things without as much guilt over it, so Marc let's him have it all. Marc doesn't deserve it, Steven does.

In the military, individuality is stomped out in favor of uniformity. And I think there was a lot of appeal to Marc about that. Not being an individual, but part of something bigger than himself. It's easy blending in when everything you're given to wear, to do, to say, to fight for, is the same as the guy next to you.

And then we see in the storage locker, it's neat, it's sparse, it's presumably all utility and necessities. Marc's been living like that since before going into the military, I'm willing to bet. His childhood bedroom's things were surely Steven's to him, I do not doubt.

I think he had the start of his own things when he was living with Layla, in their place, even though they did a lot of traveling on their adventures, but he'd likely still consider them Layla's. When he disappeared on her I don't think he took anything that they bought together, things Layla would have considered his.

Now, after the events in Cairo, I want to see Marc allow himself things, to take up space. Steven considers his food preferences when grocery shopping, a shelf for Marc to fill with whatever he wants, his own drawer(s) and section of the closet. Steven realizes it's easier for Marc to have his own space than to have his things mixed in with Steven's; Marc feels like he's intruding on Steven's life and space regardless of how much Steven assures him he isn't.

Marc has his Cubs hat, and I think he has a worn-out comfort t-shirt with the Cubs logo that he'd wear just to sleep sometimes (if he managed to change out of his clothes before crashing in the first place). I think Steven notes this and gets him some kind of Cubs merch, a jersey, and Marc has to do everything he can to not cry, wishing he could hug Steven like he could back in the Duat. He doesn't wear it for a while, fearful of messing it up, but also of standing out. Of making a statement. They are in London after all.

Steven buys a space themed shirt (with Layla’s assistance), not a patterned button up like his normal style, but a fitted t-shirt like Marc's. He says it's for both of them, and he wears it on days he feels Marc is close to the front with him, and eventually, Marc accepts it as his. Steven expresses interest in watching Star Wars and he feels Marc's surge of energy at it, and he smiles to himself. Marc eats up the new Star Wars content he’s missed out on, and Layla gets them copies of the original trilogy's dvd's (original edition, which blows Marc away) to play over and over. It's one of the first things on Marc's shelf. 

Steven gives Marc the opportunity to take up space, and to do so unapologetically. And it takes time, and subtle encouragement, but he does. He finally wears his Cubs jersey out one day, and he gets complimented on it. He sputters and his face heats up, his hand going to the back of his neck and his hair, but he accepts it, and next thing he knows, he's talking baseball with a Londoner from Chicago, and he's talking stats, players, what the World Series win was like, and Marc doesn't even notice the way he's rambling for a while. He apologizes, but the Chicago Londoner assures him not to worry about it, that they love hearing about it from someone who knows what they're talking about. Reminds them of home, and that they're thankful to hear about it. They invite him to coffee, and Steven finally speaks up in the back of his mind to say they should, and they do. They talk Chicago, they talk the Cubs, the Bears, the best restaurants, the "fucking Bean" and it's the first time Marc has connected with a stranger in god knows how long. Years.

They give him their phone number, and, surprising himself, Marc gives them his. They don’t keep in touch much, but when baseball season rolls around, Marc receives a message from them, and soon he has someone to complain or get excited with after every game. Marc takes up space and he makes a friend. And it’s nice. It’s so nice. 

He’s missed out on a lot in life. But. He’s working on it. They’re working on it.

[thesheelfsworld]

Be Proud

Just something I posted on ao3.

Warning: mild swearing

Pairing: Dwalin & reader; Father-daughter relationship, but only if you squint.

Author's Note: based on a Tumblr prompt: “that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.”

It's my first time posting something like this and English is not my first language, so please be nice and enjoy!✨

Training with Dwalin had started out of necessity. What I needed was not to die, what the Company needed was for me to not be a problem and to be able to survive. That’s why very early on Thorin said Dwalin was to teach me to defend myself. I took it in stride, never being one to depend on others and determined to not be in anyone’s way and potentially get them killed.

The first couple of training sessions were easy enough, although not less tiring, filled with basic stance information and simple defense moves. Once I got the hang of those, that’s when the fun began. 

I had always been proud of my achievements, considering that I had never wielded a sword before, but Dwalin wasn’t as impressed. Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t particularly mean, but he wasn’t easy to please and was not amazed by my attempts at making a joke out of everything. So, when he first complimented me on not falling on my ass one afternoon, I was sure I had hit my head and imagined everything.

Dwalin was standing in front of me with one of his axes in hand, a stance at the ready to begin his attack. My stance was one of defense rather than offense. After all, he did tell me that when facing a bigger opponent, my biggest advantage was my size, and although Dwalin was a dwarf, he was quite tall, and I, quite short for a human.

He launches forward with great might, not going for the kill, but with enough strength/force to have me struggling. He kept moving forward, making me retreat in turn until my back hit a tree. Maybe it was the fright of having collided with something unexpected, or that I was quite literally caught between a tree and a huge axe coming towards my face; whatever it was, I ducked just in time, avoiding what would have been a pretty nasty accident, spoon around to the left and quickly put space between us once again.

When I turned to Dwalin again, his face had contorted into a light expression of surprise. That alone had me grinning like a loon, but it was the actual twitch of his lips that had my chest bursting with pride for myself.

“That was a smart move lassie, good thinkin’ there.” His voice remained uninterested and collected, but I knew better.

“You were not expecting that, huh? Me neither,” I laughed still slightly out of breath as he barely nodded. 

“But I must have done something right because I’m pretty sure that’s the first time you’ve smiled at me,” I added with a smile. I had to admit I had grown fond of the dwarf. He frowned a lot, grunted instead of using his words, and barely paid any attention to me outside of our training session, but I knew I could trust him with my life, and I truly felt safe with him. So him being proud of my improvements … yeah, that was a fucking big deal to me.

Taglist: @melhekhelmurkun