drowning-with-style

[drowning-with-style]

I know most people on here don't like to go to the gym because you're all gay nerds. I like to go to the gym. For the purpose of understanding this post please try to imagine that you, too, enjoy going to the gym so that you can empathize with my point here.

Anyway, so imagine you are going to the gym. You're pumped about the concept of getting some muscle on you. Plus, the gym has this "lift weights every day!" challenge with a feasible plan to slowly and safely increase the amount of weight you can lift by the end of the month. Cool!

So anyway you go there, and you're having a good time. But then you notice something. Some people are coming in with these guys in shirts that say LIFT FOR HIRE. You're curious, and you notice over time that some people are actually paying these guys to come in and do the lifting challenge for them.

"Huh," you say to your mega hot, muscled gym buddy. "That's so weird. What's in it for the people paying these guys?"

"Dunno," says your friend, mid bicep curl.

"Um, actually!" says the gym owner. "Some people are disabled, so the only way they can lift weights it to pay LIFT FOR HIRE, inc."

"But wait," you say. "They still aren't lifting the weights though? Paying someone else to lift for you doesn't mean you've lifted the weights."

The gym owner gasps. "How could you SAY that?"

"Because... it's true?" you say. "Uh, if you pay guys to lift your weights, that's probably really good for the guys you are paying. But it's not going to develop your ability to lift at all. Your muscles aren't going to grow, you're just going to lose money and get no results."

"That's ABLEIST," they say. "How DARE you! Some people are LITERALLY paralyzed, did you think of that?"

"Well, yeah, some people are, and that means definitionally they can't lift weights," you explain. "And paying someone else doesn't change that. Maybe if they wanted to like, move something in their house it would make total sense to hire these guys! But if you hire them to do your workout you get nothing, because the purpose of a workout is personal development. I'm not morally condemning people who do it, but it seems like a waste of money when this event is, again, about improving one's personal abilities."

"This is absolutely DISGUSTING, CLASSIST rhetoric!" the gym owner roars, and then turns to one of the LIFT FOR HIRE guys, "Pay no attention this disgusting person, dear sponsor, we support your business and we totally want you to keep funding our gym!"

"Sponsor?" says your hot muscled friend who was way too busy actually doing their workout and getting gains to engage in dumb discourse. "Oh, now it makes sense."

"Shut up, you don't understand our love!" says the gym owner, before sloppily making out with a LIFT FOR HIRE guy in front of you.

Anyway, that's what learning about the whole AI nanowrimo controversy was like for me.

[drowning-with-style]

And there is no greater achievement, no greater prize, no greater joy than even just one person who appreciates your writing and makes you feel special.

[drowning-with-style]

i think theres this idea in the general public that the "best" fanfic gets turned into real books like 50 shades of grey. but the truth is that the best fanfic can never be published as an actual book because its intricately woven into the canon material so its inseparable even if you change the names

[drowning-with-style]

(This would be a separate NaNo from the organization currently self-imploding.)

Reblog so that this gets a million million votes please

[drowning-with-style]

So it looks like NaNoWriMo are happy to have AI as part of their community. Miss me with that bullshit. Generative artificial intelligence is an active threat to creativity and the livelihoods of hundreds of thousands of people in creative fields.

Please signal boost this so writers can make an informed choice about whether to continue to take part in such a community.

[drowning-with-style]

Hey guys... I met my wife through NaNoWriMo, I am as attached to the concept as a person could be, but if we're going to recreate it... I'm begging you to not put it in November. November is possibly the worst month for it if you live in the US. In school? You're probably studying for finals toward the end of that month. Adult? Some part of your family is going to want you to come visit them, which is a whole thing if you have to travel to see them.

We can break free of this. We can have a whole new novel writing month. I'm begging you. Even as someone whose life partner came to me through NaNoWriMo. Do not put this fucking month in November.

[drowning-with-style]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Selection Series - Kiera Cass Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Maxon Schreave/America Singer, Kriss Ambers/Maxon Schreave

Summary:

What if Maxon never forgave America at the end of The One? What if he married Kriss, and left America to move on with someone else?

20 years later, widowed America Singer's son Elias enters The Selection held for Maxon and Kriss's daughter, Meredith.

To America (and Kriss's) dismay, Elias makes it to The Elite-- which means a family visit to the palace. And Maxon and America soon find it very difficult to stay away from one another.

[drowning-with-style]

what happened to “the selection”? did we all grow out of it? was i the only one with a hyper fixation? can we revive the fandom? does anyone want to yell about how much they love maxon with me? i miss them? 

[drowning-with-style]

Two days into NaNoWriMo and I slammed my head into the corner of my headboard. Doctor said I'm under no circumstances to read or write. If this doesn't perfectly describe my life

[drowning-with-style]

Human Vulnerability, Romance, and Scarves

In Which Kara Learns about Human Vulnerability, Romance, and Scarves

When Kara’s solar flare had dragged into the third day, and she was released from the DEO, Lena had practically dragged her into the bedroom, saying she needed to experience sex when she could feel it all.

And experience it she did, until her muscles ached, and her thighs were throbbing, and her body was absolutely tingling from the number of back to back orgasms (7).

But when she woke up the next day, still with no powers, the evidence was all over her body in the form of blue and purple bruises that littered her neck, collarbone, and thighs.

Lena gave a halfhearted apology through her laughter when Kara had yelled at her, claiming she wasn’t used to it, never usually having to worry about leaving marks. Kara threw at her that her vulnerability had been the whole reason for the sexcapade, but Lena reminded her it was just payback, a taste of her own medicine.

Kara had no response to that. It was true; even now, Lena had her own share of bruises, though they weren’t nearly as numerous as hers. However, she did remember their first few nights, before Kara had truly gotten down the science of knowing when to stop, or, more explicitly, where to put them.

Lena had many days at the office where she had to hide a skinful of evidence from the press and her employees. How had she done it? Kara couldn’t remember.

“Lena, come on, this isn’t funny! I have to be at work in fifteen minutes, and I can’t show up in Cat Grant’s office looking like this!” She exclaimed.

Lena chuckled, though she still got up, rising from her seat on the bed to help. “Just do what the rest of the population that isn’t invulnerable does: wear a scarf.” She instructed, handing one over to Kara from her clothes rack.

Kara grumbled a thanks, along with a few other choice words, and wrapped it around her neck.

“Keira!” Cat screeched as Kara came sprinting to her office three minutes behind schedule.

“I’m here Ms Grant. I’m so sorry, there was a line at Noonans this morning. Here’s your latte, just as you like it.”

“Well if I like my coffee late, then yeah.” She rolled her eyes, snatching the drink and taking a sip. “We have a lot of work to do today, Kiera. Supergirl saved what looked like an entire police force from a high-tech prison camp, and there has not been a single exclusive!” She exclaimed.

“I’m on it. I’ll talk to Snapper, see what I can do. I should be able to talk to Supergirl myself, as I believe she still owes me a favor.” Kara responded.

“Well first I need to you go over my schedule with me. I need to pick my son up early on Thursday, and I’ll have to make it fit.”

Kara nodded, already pulling out her planner, though that was kept more for Cat’s sanity than for hers.

“Oh, and Kiera, lose that ridiculous scarf. It’s giving me hives just looking at it.” She quipped.

“Oh, um, I’d really rather not, I’m afraid I’ll lose it, and it really is rather cold in here.” She stammered, blush rising on her cheeks. Cat rolled her eyes.

“You’ve never had an issue with the temperature before. And it would be better you freeze before wearing that god-awful thing around my building. Hand it over now.” She demanded, holding out an arm.

Reluctantly, Kara pulled the scarf from around her neck, ducking her head as she handed it over, not wanting to look Cat in the eye.

“There, much better. Now look up here, Kiera, and tell me what I have to do this week.” Kara slowly looked up, and Cat’s jaw dropped, a smirk slowly growing on her face, maintaining a cool, suave exterior though Kara saw her nearly choke on her coffee.

“Well, someone’s certainly been busy, and not with my schedule.”

If Kara was blushing before, she was about as red as a tomato now, her entire face burning hotter than the sun. Lena was in so much trouble.

But Rao, if it wasn’t a struggle to push her girlfriend out of her mind now, while Cat drilled her on today’s agenda. How could she listen when she was remembering the sight of her girlfriend between her legs, the touch of her lips on her skin that landed her in this position in the first place?

Finally, after what felt like hours, she was dismissed, waved to her desk to get started with the impossible day ahead of her. She nodded graciously as she turned to the glass door, restraining herself from sprinting out of the office before it became an interrogation room.

“Oh, and Kiera?” Cat called out after her, making Kara turn on her heels.

“Yes Ms Grant?”

“Next time, forgo the scarf, and just use a little makeup and a higher neckline. And maybe some jewelry for once in your life.” She commented with a blasé attitude and a knowing smile, returning to her work.

Kara’s face was scarlett as she turned around, just hoping no one else would pick up on it. (They did)

[drowning-with-style]

“Your Super is Showing”

It was moments like these— where Supergirl so clearly came through, her disguise appearing even more dorky and endearing than usual, as her glasses sat crooked on her nose, her blouse disheveled, one side untucked, one collar flipped up, as if it had been slept in (or hastily changed into mid-flight)— moments like these that made Lena’s heart melt.

It was silly: she’d been Kara Danvers much before she was Supergirl. She couldn’t possibly be suppressing an alter ego that came long after.

And yet, Lena watches her chewing on the end of her pencil, watching it snap in half as she goes to write, sitting in an awkward posture that suggests a greater muscle mass than her tiny frame could ever hold.

Lena supposes that she’s suppressed a part of herself for so much of her life, that Kara Danvers is no more the real her than Supergirl. Just as much as she must hide parts of Kara to emanate the strength, power and reverence of Supergirl she has to hide the powers that make her her in order to be accepted in the real world— to be treated as just another person.

Each alternate personality is really a divide of who she is. And so some days, Lena assumes, one side comes out stronger than the other, at the wrong moments.

Lena watches in adoration as Kara clearly resembles a young child attempting to do homework after being pent up in the house all day. She fidgets, her leg bouncing, fingers tapping, her whole body twitching as she scours over her paper. She's got both feet on her chair, sitting like a frog about to spring forward, somehow balancing her entire body weight on two tiny feet that are twitching back and forth with uncontainable energy.

She needs to go do something before she tears apart my office like a new puppy

“Kara,” she starts, easily, “would you maybe want to take a break and go take a walk around the park with me?”

“YEs!” She jumps out of her chair, knocking it over and spilling all the jars that had lined Lena's desk. She blushes, muttering sorry over and over as she scoops up their contents, only managing to make more of a mess as she knocks more things over.

She mutters continuous apologies, face flushing in embarrassment, though her smile twitches with excitement.

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Lena exclaims, grabbing her hands, and stopping her from destroying the entire desk.

Kara grins up at her, pushing her glasses back on her nose, and they look so out of place that Lena has to hold back a laugh.

She may have been all Supergirl but she was always her Puppy Danvers