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komotionlessqueenmm · 2 years ago

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I've practically been stalking your old ivan drago content and saw your imagine prompt for being Rocky's younger sister and having a crush on Ivan, can you IMAGINE the idea of you, being Rocky's younger sister, seeking ivan out after his life changing loss because you know what that means for him? Just being soft and understanding because even though your brother won (and there's a good reason as to why that's the appropriate ending cough cough) you feel the need to offer a shoulder and comfort ivan because you see him for what he is, the product of having to please such a demanding regime? Maybe it's just my penchant to see big strong antagonists and want to hold their face in my hands lol (like iceman, my beloved)

Gah dammit now I wanna write about this!!!!

(No seriously tho I love this, I have daydreamed about it so many times, just needed someone to convince me to write about it! But I'm doing this as a headcanon instead of an actual story because I don't think I can properly get across what I want to get across. Which is why I never wrote about this despite fantasizing about it.)

Headcanon/Preference # 28

Pictures NOT mine.

Year posted - 2023

*I'm randomly coming back to this request because I saw it in my drafts, and I'm dabbling with a few pieces with Dolphs characters again, so I wanted to finish this one. That being said, I've actually got a story I'm working on based loosely on that imagine, it's got a fun little twist to it though. So keep an eye out for that, and I apologize this took so long, but that's honestly kinda just how I roll. 😅 ALSO this isn't exactly what you asked for, but I think you'll enjoy it regardless! MY BAD!

☓Before the fight☓

☭ So before the fight you'd only seen Ivan on the TV screen. But even then you could see him for who he really was. And apparently you were the only one who could, so you kept your thoughts to yourself.

☭ You more or less threatened your brother to take you with him to Russia. And he of course tried reasoning with you, but you'd made up your mind, and he wasn't going to change it.

☭ Rocky was of course worried that the cold might get to you, so he made sure you were bundled to the nine every single day. It was sweet, but a little annoying at the same time. And you had to admit the cold was definitely harsher in Russia than Philadelphia, and that was saying something.

☭ But despite the cold, and the harsh glare from the locals, you found yourself enjoying the landscape scenery.

☭ You helped to encourage your brothers training, and despite having lost your old friend Apollo to him, you couldn't help but find yourself enamored in a way with the Soviet boxer. A fact that you kept under lock and key.

☭ You wondered most nights what would happen in the end. What would happen to Rocky if he lost? What would Ivan go through if he lost? There was just so much at stake, and you couldn't decide who you wanted to come out victorious. Well both of them if you had it your way, but you knew that wasn't an opinion.

☭ You often replayed the fight he had with Apollo in your head. You'd seen how Apollo's theatrics effected him, and how unbothered he'd been by Apollo's taunting. How precious he was, and how powerful.

☭ It made you worry for your brother, but you knew he was one tough son of a bitch. You'd been there for every single one of Rocky's fights after all, even back when he was fighting in shitty clubs.

☓During the fight☓

☭ You were sorta like Rocky's coach at this point, well maybe not coach but rather his hype-man, always had been. So you were with him when he went out to the ring, and beside him in the ring.

☭ You had to admit, seeing Ivan up close for the first time... Jesus he was huge... And very intimidating with his cold expression. Queue your curiosity and worry both spiking.

☭ You shook hands with his team, per the typical routine, and when you were about to turn and leave the ring. You found Ivan staring at you, making eye contact, and maintaining it for far longer than you probably should have.

☭ Rocky noticed your hesitance, and gently bumped his shoulder with yours, knocking you out of your stupor. You offered your older brother a small smile, and he gently bumped your chin with his glove, drawing a proper smile from you. Which in turn made him smile.

☭ He didn't even notice Ivan had been staring at you, or that Ivan continued to do so as you left the ring. But the announcers? The fans? They noticed. So around the world people wondered if maybe it had been a bad idea letting you go to this fight.

☭ Before the fight started, you stood beside the ropes in Rocky's corner, and made good on tradition. Resting your foreheads together you said a prayer and wished him luck, smiling when he kissed the crown of your head before breaking away.

☭ All throughout the fight, you found yourself feeling rather queasy, you'd never experienced that before during any of Rocky's fights. You knew subconsciously because it wasn't just because of your worry for Rocky.

☭ You realized pretty quickly into the fight, that far more was riding on Ivan winning than Rocky. For Rocky if he lost, he would have been humiliated, and failed in avenging Apollo... But Ivan. You knew he would suffer far worse if he lost.

☭ You didn't have to speak Russian to know that his entire life would be determined by the outcome of this fight. If he won he'd be a hero, like Rocky was back home. But if he lost, odds are he'd loose everything he's come to know. How perceptive of you.

☭ Often you'd find yourself looking to Ivan when they were separated for a short break. Almost always finding him already staring at you, his expression dark and furious. Which admittedly made you a little nervous, but you didn't feel his frustration was directed at you.

☭ By the time they were both bloody and exhausted, you were on the brink of tears. And both men had noticed. Rocky trying to comfort you as best he could during his breaks, despite the fact that his state of mind was more important. (Something you kept reminding him about, but he didn't care. He's a good brother.)

☭ Ivan did nothing but watch, wondering if you were afraid for your brother, afraid for himself, or if perhaps you were afraid of him at this point? A series of thoughts that only confused him, and distracted him more than he'd care to admit.

☭ When Ivan picked that man up by his throat, you found that the tears had finally escaped, rolling down the apples of your cheeks as he shouted in Russian. His eyes found yours in the commotion, and he was certain he'd gotten his answer to his earlier ponderings.

☭ Little did he know you were crying for him, not because of his actions.

☓After the fight☓

☭ The crowd had boomed with excitement, and many people rushed the ring to celebrate with Rocky. You had watched as Ivan was led out by his team, and you didn't think twice about following them.

☭ When his team realized you'd followed them, they tried to shoo you away, but then Ivan noticed it was you, and barked at them to leave in his native tongue. Perplexed they complied and left you alone in the locker room.

☭ "What are you doing here?" He questioned, his accent think and heavy, like honey to your ears. "I..." You were at a loss for words. "I'm not sure... I-." He scoffed at you before turning away, looking at himself in the mirror, and glancing at you through it.

☭ "I guess I just wanted to see how you were... If you're... If you're okay." You tried to make sense of the way you felt, you knew you were drawn to him, you just didn't know why. He simply kept watching you through the mirror as you fumbled adorably over your explanation.

☭ But what you said next really caught him by surprise. "Your hands... Are your hands okay?" You'd asked, now looking at him through the mirror, he turned to you with confusion evident on his expression. No one ever asked if his hands were okay after a fight before, not even his wife.

☭ "I'm usually the one that mends Rocky's hands after a fight... Are your... Are your hands okay?" You explained yourself, taking a tentative step towards him, freezing in place when he stepped towards you.

☭ "You are afraid of me." He stated. "Not exactly." You quickly defended yourself. "I'm not afraid of you... I'm anxious around you." You added, thinking he'd accept that response. "What is the difference?" Ivan argued, watching you approach him.

☭ "My heart is racing, but it isn't because of fear." You tried to explain, feeling incredibly sheepish, especially considering you knew he was married. "I know fear... And you do not inflect fear in me." You added, sort of hoping he wouldn't understand what you meant.

☭ Thankfully he did. "I feel it as well." He admitted in a soft tone, not wanting to startle you as you gently unwrapped his wrist wraps. He noticed how you flushed at his confession, it made him smile softly.

☭ You tended to his busted up hands with a gentle touch, more gentle than he's used to. And by the time you'd finished, he couldn't help himself and he kissed you.

☭ It was tender the way he tilted your head back with his index finger, slowly leaning in to give you the opportunity to turn away if you wanted, but you didn't turn away.

☭ It's probably the most wholesome moment of his life, and yes I'm taking into account the birth of his son Viktor.

☭ You were just so sweet, peering up at him with big doe eyes. Foreheads resting together you both forgot about the world around you, if only for a moment.

☭ Ivan just wanted to wrap you in his arms and stay that way forever. He wasn't sure why he was so drawn to you, but he had been enamored with you long before you even knew about him.

☭ Granted you had just been a face on the screen of his TV, but that didn't stop his heart from fluttering at the mere sight of you. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps you were made for eachother, separated from eachother across the world.

☭ After what felt like hours the moment was ruined, because down the hall you could hear Rocky calling your name, probably worried sick about where you'd disappeared to.

☭ "I have to go." You whispered, despite not wanting to. "I know." Ivan murmured equally saddened. "Until we meet again." He added before giving you one last kiss, breaking away and leaving right before Rocky barged in. His heart shattering in his chest, as he knew you'd probably never see eachother again.

☭ "There you are!" Rocky breathed a sigh of relief, and practically fell into your arms. He never questioned why you were in Ivan's locker room, and he never questioned why you'd run off like that. (He had a feeling he didn't want to know.)

☓Years later☓

◈ You hadn't seen him since his fight against Rocky. And you wondered if he'd even recognize you anymore. Or if you'd even see him that is.

◈ You knew about his son, and his determination to fight Adonis Creed.

◈ What you hadn't honestly expected, was for him to show up your brother's restaurant, atleast not unannounced.

◈ "Rocky we need-" You cut yourself off as you laid eyes on him, he looked even more handsome than you'd remembered. Frozen in place you jumped when Rocky touched your arm.

◈ "You okay?" He asked with a soft expression, wordlessly pulling you into a hug when you nodded your head yes.

◈ "(Y/n)." Ivan had approached you both, and you could tell Rocky didn't trust him. "Hello Ivan." You smiled softly, those old butterflies from before fluttering around in your belly.

◈ You'd secretly been sending letters to Ivan for years, and while you sent them religiously, you only ever received a handful in return. Not that you minded, you understood, better than anyone.

◈ "Still so beautiful." He mused as if Rocky wasn't standing right there, his hand coming up to brush his knuckles across your cheek bone. Rocky was quick to put himself between you and Ivan of course, ever the protective brother.

◈ "Rock." You placed your arm on his bicep, gently tugging at his arm, a reassuring smile on your face when he turned to look at you. "It's okay." You reached up cupping your brothers cheek, smiling as you felt him relax under your touch.

◈ When you looked to Ivan again, you asked him if he would like to take a small walk. Rocky immediately tried arguing against it, but you assured him you would be fine, and he listened to you begrudgingly.

◈ "You look good Ivan." You'd mused as you walked side by side, just the two of you, as he'd made Viktor wait in the car. "I've missed you." He admitted, making you smile. "And I've missed you." You found it funny that he could still make you blush.

◈ "I kept all of your letters." He added in a soft tone, again making you smile. "Yeah?" You stopped walking and he turned to you, taking your hands in his. "Of course." He smiled.

◈ "You were always on my mind." Ivan murmured quietly before wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his head into your neck. You quickly wrapped your arms around his large shoulders, your right hand coming to rest against the back of his head.

◈ "You know... I never married." You mused thoughtfully, hoping he wouldn't think you crazy. "I couldn't bring myself to love anyone else." You added when he pulled back from the hug.

◈ "I would have given anything to have you by my side, helping me raise Viktor." Ivan closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back on his fantasy. "Want about now?" You wondered aloud before you could stop yourself, and Ivan smirked.

◈ "You would want that? Want me?" He asked with a small smile, adoration shining in his eyes. You cupped his face between your hands, pulling him down to your height so you shared the same air. "It's all I've ever wanted Ivan." He visibility melted into your touch.

◈ Needless to say the world was shocked to see you by Ivan's side, and even more so when you announced your engagement. Rocky tried to "reason" with you, claiming it was a rash decision. But you told him about everything, the moment you shared with Ivan in Russia, the letters, and the way he made you feel, the way he'd always made you feel.

◈ Rocky came to realize your love for Ivan, was like his love for Adrian. He knew you never really dated, or let yourself get attached, especially after his fight with Ivan. And despite his past with the Russian, he supported you (warning Ivan about what would happen if he broke your heart like any good brother would.), and he attended your wedding of course.

#Headcanon #ivan drago x reader #ivan drago #Ivan drago headcanon #Ivan drago imagine #Ivan drago x you #Ivan drago x y/n #rocky balboa #Rocky 4 #rocky iv #Rocky headcanon #Rocky 4 headcanon #dolph lundgren #reader insert #fluff #requested #Rocky imagine #rocky x reader #Rocky x you

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arabellaflynn · 2 years ago

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I went down a few rabbit holes while researching the Advent Calendar last year, that didn't make it into the queue because they got too long or went too far afield. Here's one of them!

One thing you notice when you watch a bazillion videos about old games consoles is how the design of circuitry has evolved. If someone says 'circuit board' today, you think a light piece of leafy green board, filled with parallel lines of copper at 45° and 90° angles, dotted with lots of tiny inscrutable plastic and metal doodads. But it took a long, long time for them to get that way.

If you look at really old circuit boards -- and I mean really, really old circuit boards, like from the beginning of the transistor era, they look completely different. They're brownish, for one thing. And kind of... wiggly?

youtube

Apologies for the transfer quality. It's not your connection, it just sucks. This piece appears to be some sort of promo-tainment thing from Tektronix themselves, from 1969. The rounded corners and bluish fuzz at the edges is an effect called 'vignetting', and it means this is originally from a 16mm film reel. There's no earthly reason for film to look this terrible. The uncentered picture means someone copied it by pointing a camera at a projection screen instead of bothering to get a proper kinescope setup, and the fact that it only goes up to 240p makes me feel like it was originally transferred over two decades ago for RealPlayer and nobody bothered to fix it for YouTube. VHS is about 240 lines, but if this were a crap transfer from a VHS tape you'd also see scanlines. It's possible there's a better copy at VintageTek, a museum dedicated to the history of Tektronix; they are an all-volunteer institution, and they probably have more important things to funnel funding to than updating their YouTube channel.

Point being, it looks like porridge and I'm sorry, but at least the content is interesting.

The brownish color, which is actually from an evolutionary stage earlier than what's covered here, is because many early boards were milled of bakelite rather than electrodeposited onto a glass or fiberglas backplane. If you want to see some of what that might have been like, you can hop over to Usagi Electric. He uses CAD to mill boards, rather than the photochemical process described by Tektronix, but it's pretty much the same idea. He does a lot of it in pursuit of his mad obsession with building a vacuum tube computer here. (If you're curious, his logo says うさぎ電気, "Usagi Denki". "Usagi" is Japanese for rabbit or bunny -- there is one who appears at the end of some videos -- and the spelling of "denki" here specifically means electrics, as opposed to 電機, which is usually rendered electronics. It still pops up in the names of some engineering or technology firms, but generally only the really old ones.)

The wiggly nature of early boards is neatly explained by watching the drafting process, starting about three minutes into the video. It was originally done by hand. The rest of the half-hour video goes through the whole multi-stage process, but the gist is that when you lay out the board, you draw dark lines where you want the conductive traces to be on the final product. To get a consistent size, tape is used for "holes" and tape lines are uses for the traces. If you've ever used stripe tape in nail art, it was apparently something like that -- vinyl tape with a bit of stretch, so you could curve it around. It was a methodical sort of art form. Ever solved one of those "connect the same-color dots without crossing lines" puzzles? It's basically that. If you can't find a topologically-appropriate solution on a single plane, you can produce boards with traces on both the front and the back, as Tektronix does here, and these days you can actually bury traces in internal layers as well. It's just a pain and makes the cost go up exponentially.

The mention of "holes" is interesting. Early circuit boards were nothing but holes. Everything had legs and was soldered on from the underside. Today these are known as "through-hole mounted" components; the alternatives are "surface-mount" components, which are generally smaller and fiddlier to solder on by hand, but considerably easier to lay down and solder in place by machine. Surface-mount technology has been around since before this Tektronix piece, but remained NASA-grade esoterica until the automated assembly process became cost-effective in the 1990s. Today the conductive holes are referred to as "vias" and the little medal dots surface-mount things are soldered to are "pads".

I'll also note that they show the automatic soldering process for these boards late in the video. It involves skimming the boards across the surface of a pool of molten solder. Solder in the 1960s contained a lot of lead. I would not personally like to be in that room. Today a machine places little surface-mount doojiggers in place along with solder beads, and then melts it all very gently in a very hot oven until it all melds together, not unlike a pan of slightly too-runny cookies. If you do it right, the surface tension of the solder keeps it on the pads and out of the traces. This is particularly useful for placing CPUs, whose myriad tiny pins in a tight grid would be far too difficult to solder by hand, and the origin of "reflow" repairs for electronics that are exhibiting symptoms of flaky solder joints.

The "silkscreening" process here does not use silk, but originally it did -- it was invented in Asia, logically enough. The gist of it is that you take a piece of finely woven mesh, traditionally light silk but in modern times also metal or synthetic fiber, and you plug up all of the little holes in it in the areas where you don't want ink to get through it, usually with some sort of water-repellent substance. In the days of yore, you painted on some kind of sap or wax, but nowadays it's usually a light-sensitive plastic that's scraped across the whole mesh, topped with a stencil that is opaque where you want ink to flow, and exposed to UV light that sets the substance. The unset areas that were in shadow are rinsed clean, leaving the mesh permeable in those places. The ink emulsion is then applied to the printing surface beneath in the reverse process: Ink is spread across the mesh, then squeegeed through with enough force to push it through the holes in the weave and onto the surface beneath. The dots of ink bleed just enough to flow into one another, producing a solid area of pigment. The circuit board designs were originally drafted in black on a white background, then photographed and reduced to 1/4 their original size, and the film used as the stencil for the silkscreen.

Holes are drilled mostly by hand(!) in this clip, which is an error-prone process, as you can see from the Usagi Electrics guy. The worker uses what's called a pantograph drill. A pantograph is a device that translates motion from one place to another, often with a change in scale. Typically pantographs are mechanical in nature, based on the complimentary motion of opposite corners of a parallelogram, but you could make a pretty good argument that modern systems that accept movement inputs from a user and translate them elsewhere by computer are also members of the class. Robot-assisted surgery comes to mind. If you cared to have an even longer argument, you could also consider systems that scan items with laser photons in order to reproduce them on a lathe or CNC machine pantographs in spirit, if not in fact.

A visual or optical comparator is just a device that projects a magnified view of something up on a screen, along with a point, grid, or profile it needs to match, not unlike a microfiche viewer with a targeting reticule. They're still used in some areas, although software image processing is steadily gaining ground.

You'd be amazed at how many things still need a look-over by a human with a brain. The lack of human brains is how we got the sharply-angled board traces we have today, in fact. Computer-aided drafting was developed to a usable level in the 1980s, and predictably the people using it were mostly engineers. The kind of route-finding you do in those connect-the-dots puzzles, and that the electronics engineers did when drafting the boards, is one of those very slippery human things. You want to find the shortest path, to save on the precious metals you use as conductors, but the absolute shortest path (with reasonable tolerances) is often a very snaky curve that would require a large number of points to define. It's much simpler to work on a grid, hence the 45° and 90° angles -- this ensures that all trace paths can be defined exclusively by where their corners lie on a square coordinate system, and is much less calculation-intensive. This was a lot of what early graphics tablets (or digitizers) were used for, and some light pen systems.

Having watched my father do a lot of this as a kid, I gather that at least in modern CAD software, you can just pick things up and put them wherever you want, but that the autopathing gets very confused if you do it too much -- mostly it's better to let the computer figure out where the traces go and tell you if you want something impossible in 3D space. And if you screw up anyway, there's always blue wire.

Circuit boards don't have to be the ubiquitous green, either. That's just the color of the solder mask, a lacquer painted all over the parts of the board you don't want solder to stick to. It's mostly tradition at this point, but you can get boards in pretty much any color you like -- the second most common I've see is a dark navy blue, probably because copper traces and white silkscreening stand out best on those two colors. You're welcome to get neon purple, if you can find anyone offering it.

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eulaliasims · 3 years ago

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Check In Tag

Thanks for the tag, @pixeldolly!

Why did you choose your url?

Eulalia means ‘sweetly speaking’ or ‘well spoken’, and when I was picking my latest internet pseudonym (b/c I’m a 90s baby and grew up hearing to NEVER use your real name on the internet or you will DIE) I went for something aspirational. I’m better at writing than talking, haha. The ‘sims’ part is probably obvious.

How long have you been on tumblr?

Uhhhhh... ball pit era (2014).

Do you have a queue tag?

Naw, my queue is only set to six posts a day at the moment. I feel like I should have a tag for not queued posts, since that’s when I randomly dump a bunch of decorating pictures onto people’s dash and run away.

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Originally I made the account to follow simmers after the TS2 community on Livejournal died down; I lurked for a bit, then finally decided to share a few of my own pictures. It’s nice to be able to document my game like this and share it with other simmers.

Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It’s a Picrew of myself, lol. (This one, by Poika.) I did icons with my sims for a while, but this Picrew was going around and I liked it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Why did you choose your header?

It’s Middleground, my main neighborhood, and it’s pretty. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What’s your post with the most notes?

Mmmm, it’s either going to be the natural history museum or a piece of CC--lemme check--oh wait, no, it’s the hobby lot makeover tutorial! I forgot about that. And then this shitpost, which still makes me laugh.

How many mutuals do you have?

I have no idea! Some? Y’all are definitely in the double digits, I know that much.

How many followers do you have?

I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, tbh. It’s better for the obsessive part of my brain that latches onto things like that if I keep it hidden with xKit most of the time. >_>

How many people do you follow?

345. Mostly simblrs (and a couple Mass Effect/Dragon age blogs), and I know that there’s some inactive blogs in there.

Have you ever made a shitpost?

Once or twice. More often I draft them and then just delete them instead.

How often do you use tumblr each day?

If something else has my attention, zero times, otherwise I'll steal @pixeldolly‘s answer and say often enough.

Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

lol, no. I am one of those people who prefers to merely observe fandom drama from a safe distance--in the case of simblr drama, it usually bypasses me entirely. If it’s not on my dash, I am not aware of it.

How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

I don’t do that.

Do you like tag games?

They’re fun. Though sometimes I skip them depending on my brain spoons/whether I remember in a timely manner that someone tagged me. I’m also terrible at tagging other people. I try to only tag people who do them, and then sometimes the game’s already made the rounds by the time I end up doing it anyway!

Do you like ask games?

^^^^ See above! I usually only reblog sims-related ones, since, well, it’s a simblr.

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Is this a thing? Idk, when I think of Tumblr fame, I think of drama and, like, the person who apparently went grave robbing for bones, so I’m gonna say thankfully none of them.

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I certainly have a crush on some of their games, haha!

#meme #nonsims #skipping tags today because my cat woke me up at 5 AM and the ol' brain is not operating with all processors today #if you want ask me to tag you and I'll edit the post!!

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twiceblackvelvet · 5 years ago

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One Night Stand

A/N; someone requested this but for some reason i can’t find the ask in my drafts among all of the other requests but hopefully they find it anyway. enjoy me writing way more than i expected and ending things on an open note in case people become interested and i get to write a second part.

Nights like these very rarely happen. In fact, they never do. Usually, you’d be sat at home with a glass of wine, binge-watching yet another drama, and stuffing your face with whichever snacks you could find in the cupboards. An unhealthy combination, sure. But it’s what comforts you the most after spending way too long dealing with people during the day.

But tonight, your friends have practically dragged you out of the pit you’ve created in the middle of your sofa that you tried endlessly to convince them had not in fact molded to the shape of your body, it just looks like that naturally. Apparently, a new bar opening offering free entry is enough reason for you to break your usual habits and let your hair down instead.

It’s been so long since the last time you went out to a nightclub that you’d forgotten how much work goes into just getting there and looking somewhat acceptable. Spending hours on end searching through your closet for a dress that you had been told must cling to your skin and not look like something a librarian would wear.

Maybe, it’s just time to get some new friends who won’t rip your everyday style to shreds for a quick laugh.

You’re not even sure why you agreed, really. The thought of drunken slobs throwing themselves all over anyone within proximity in the hopes of getting lucky at the end of the night is not something you’ve ever found appealing, thus, you’re yet to gain your one-night stand card. Not that such a thing exists, but according to numerous sources, or rather just all of your friends it’s an important step in the life of an adult. You’d rather keep both feet firmly outside of that circle and never dip your toes into the daunting pool of regret and possible after-effects of bedding a complete stranger.

Despite the lingering feeling deep down that this night would not end well, after a few pre-drinks to get you in the mood, excitement soon washes away any worries. Even the one’s telling you that you’d likely spend half the night pulling your friends away from anyone they find attractive only because they’re wearing beer goggles.

Stepping out of the cab and into the cold night air makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and brings about your first regret. The short black dress you decided upon makes it impossible for your body to find any warmth as you walk toward the queue hovering outside waiting to get inside. It’s shorter than you expected, which you’re all grateful for but there’s still a good amount of people there.

After a few minutes of pacing on the spot, your teeth have begun to chatter and the alcohol that had previously warmed you up has started to lose its effect.

“How long until we’re in?” You decide to ask, aimed at no one in particular, just hoping for a positive answer from anyone that the cold suffering will end soon.

“It’ll be about ten more minutes babe, don’t worry.” One of your friends shouts from behind you. The loud music from inside blaring out into the street makes it impossible for you to know which, you’re just grateful it’s not going to be too long before you can get inside and feel warmth once again.

Bodies begin to shuffle closer towards the door and soon two burly men dressed head to toe in black come into sight, the words security plastered across one side of their chest. One of them, more muscular than the other and with a far more intimidating face places his meaty hand upright in front of you to pause the steady flow of patrons being allowed inside.

“Do you have any identification?” The smaller of the two men who now that you’re closer is in fact still huge in comparison to you croaks out, his voice not matching his appearance. You notice he has a cut above his eye, likely from someone drunkenly thinking it’s a good idea to fight the hulk’s cousin after one too many.

Your hands roam around inside the small clutch bag you’d decided upon pairing with your outfit and pull out your driver's license and point it towards both of them. They eye it suspiciously, but you can see the cogs in their heads quickly trying to decipher whether your year of birth makes you legal to enter or not.

“Great, thanks. Go right ahead.” The larger man speaks and ushers you toward the door.

Before stepping inside, you turn in place to face your friends who are also being inspected head to toe. A strong breeze gusts past all of you and without thinking too much about upsetting them, you walk in alone and leave your friends to the freezing weather. You quickly holler that you’ll meet them inside, but it’s unlikely that they heard it.

Walking through an extra set of doors, you’re greeted by a dark interior with painted black walls, a bar placed dead in the center of the room with low lighting hung above it. Red seats line the counter and one half of the room and your feet move without you thinking about it towards one of them. The other half is an open dance floor full of people moving along to the music, some less on the beat than others but they’re trying.

A small woman, no taller than 5’2 with brown short hair appears out of nowhere in front of you, a sharp smile placed on her face which you easily recognize as the fake customer service greeting she’s likely learned from years of experience handling people in an intoxicated state.

“Hey! What can I get you?” Her voice is soft, too soft to be working in this kind of environment.

You decide to look further down the bar at some of the other people seated next to you and spot a woman holding a glass filled with a light blue liquid. Truthfully, it looks like something you’d clean your kitchen floor with, but it’s calling out to you for some reason.

“I’ll have whatever that is.” You point toward the girl and the bartender gives a quick nod before heading off to pour the potentially poisonous concoction you’ve just ordered on a whim.

As you watch a couple of people throw down some moves that would be acceptable if they were from a five-year-old child, not a grown adult, small hands wrap around your waist that startles you for a second until you come face to face with your friends who’ve finally made it past the two roadblocks patrolling the doors.

“Here you are, this place is nice, right? Have you gotten a drink yet?”

“Yeah, I just ord-”

Before you can finish your sentence, the bartender returns and places the drink down in front of you.

“The first one is on the house, have a good night!” Her words are far more excited than previously, probably more than they should be for someone offering out drinks for free during opening night. Part of you wonders if this is her way of flirting or maybe just hoping for some extra tips.

“Thanks for the offer, really but I’ll pay, I’m not looking to date anyone right now and you’re not my type, sorry.”

Her eyes widen the more you speak and you realize that perhaps you’re the one who is in fact sat in the very wrong tree and barking like an idiot.

“I’m one of the owners here, the flyer outside says the first drink is free for everyone. Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I don’t swing your way.”

She’s already turned around on the heel of her foot before you can force out an apology. However, her swift exit doesn’t stop your cheeks from heating up and a mild headache from forming out of embarrassment. Your friends’ laughter all around you isn’t helping the situation either.

“Next time, maybe save that for someone who bats for your own team.” A husky voice from beside where you’re seated speaks lowly into your ear.

As you swing your chair quickly to face where the words came from, all you find is flowing brown hair trailing off toward the dance floor. You watch the body strut away, and by watching, you definitely saw something far more appealing than a kind yet uninterested bar owner. Her hips sway casually as she floats in between several bodies moving to the music and enters the bathroom without waiting in the line formed outside of the door.

A few angry customers shout after the girl, but she doesn’t bother to listen to their calls informing her of the queue. Whoever she is, her attitude is one of not caring about anything other than herself. Usually, this would be a major red flag under any other circumstances, but something is drawing you towards her even though you have no idea who she is or what she looks like other than her back profile.

Your friends order their drinks one after the other, all of which is a cocktail of sorts that will definitely cause the world’s worst hangover for each of them individually, however, that’s their problem. The lights near the dance floor quickly change colors to strobe blindingly through the crowd that’s formed, drinks have been spilled already causing some already inebriated bodies to crash land on the ground only to rise up once more to sway from one side to another.

You can’t help yourself from watching the bathroom door every few moments, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mystery woman and confirm whether she’s everything you’ve managed to imagine in the few moments since she decided to teasingly whisper into your ear. But, the line outside quickly moves and disappears meaning she has already left and you’ve missed it.

Before you know it, several hours have passed, numerous drinks have infiltrated your liver and your sight has become less and less able to make out whether the person in front of you is that close or if they’re actually halfway across the room. Your body has been dragged to the center of the dancefloor and whilst you are trying to keep up with the rhythm of the music, your loose limbs have a mind of their own and sure enough, you too end up looking like an inflatable tube blowing in the wind in any direction you decide to throw it.

At least two of your friends have decided that ramming their tongues down someone’s throat is a far better way to spend their time. You’re strangely quite envious of them.

Just as you’re about to stagger off back to the bar to relieve your throat of the dryness that has formed and maybe rid yourself of some of the sweat you’re unsure of which belongs to you or someone else, a hand slides it’s way around your waist and pulls you backward. Your body now pressed against another in a tight embrace that had you been sober you’d struggle to get out of, however, in this state, it’s even more difficult to break free.

“Why didn’t you follow me?”

When the words hit your ears, you recognize the voice from earlier and a cold shudder settles itself throughout your spine. The mystery woman has somehow managed to find you amongst the full capacity crowd whilst you couldn’t even keep up with her in the midst of a small bathroom queue. The teasing tone still there but her husky voice now replaced with a more hoarse yet sultry one.

Without even thinking about it, you force your body further into her own and spin around all at the same time. Turns out, that was a mistake as it sends both of you flying toward the ground at a pace that makes it impossible for either of you to break your fall. You may not have gotten to see her face previously but in your current position of laying on top of her, you’re now offered a close up to what your drunken mind can only describe as perfection.

Her wide eyes bore into your own, they’re a dark shade of brown and intensely eye you the same way in which you’re doing to her before quickly flitting toward your lips for a split second. Your own eyes can’t help but do the exact same to her in return. Pink plump lips that are daring you to take them in with your own, but you manage to resist, or rather, she pushes you upward and stands before helping you off the ground too.

She’s taller than you first thought. A loosely fitted blazer covers a black crop top that lies just above an abdomen that threatens to bring tears to your eyes from how toned it is. Dark pants tightly hug her long legs that you’re sure would look better without the material hiding them. You’re having difficulty removing your eyes from her magnetic form when she cups your chin and raises it so she can meet your eyes once more.

“You didn’t answer me.” She says sternly this time.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to follow you.” No thought goes into your response, you’re simply on auto-pilot mode and hoping she doesn’t vanish once more.

“Well, I did. But, your loss.”

She begins to stride away, once again. However, your arm flies out and grasps hold of her wrist before she can escape. Despite having way too much to drink, your strength still exists for a split second as her body ends up bumping into your own, hips clashing with one another.

“What are you doing?” She asks.

“Who are you?”

The airy way in which the question leaves your mouth makes it sound like you’re asking something far more prophetic, or as if you’re expecting her to give you her life story in the middle of a packed nightclub. Truthfully, you’re just after a name.

“Come with me.” Her words should be a question, instead, they sound like a command and you’re helpless to it as you trail behind her without worrying about the consequences or thinking about what it is you’re going through with. Placing in your trust in someone like this is not something you’d ever dare to do previously, but this feels right, somehow.

The two of you step outside of the club, her strides are way too quick for you to keep up with as she wanders down the street away from the loud music and your friends who you’re quickly trying to type out a text message to tell them not to send out a search party for you, though, you still don’t even know this girl’s name so perhaps that isn’t the smartest idea. You send it anyway and hope your blind faith in this godly woman who keeps checking you’re still behind her every few seconds is correct.

Her arm raises at the end of the street and a car pulls up. Everything about this feels wrong, yet, you get inside the vehicle with her anyway.

“Sooyoung.” She bluntly states. The confusion your face makes it obvious that you have no idea why she’s saying this suddenly. “My name… is Sooyoung.”

It could just be the alcohol talking, but you’re sure that it is the prettiest name to exist.

“Do you have one? Or am I supposed to guess?” She follows up after watching you mouth her own, something you hadn’t even realized you’d been doing. You quickly slur out your name that makes it only barely comprehensible and Sooyoung just chuckles in response.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh yourself when you consider your thoughts earlier in the night about your entire crisis of still clutching tightly onto your one-night-stand card and how this complete stranger in front of you is about to snatch it away, no doubt.

“What’s so funny?” The teasing tone is back in place as one of Sooyoung’s hands rests carefully atop your thigh. Her hand is cold yet despite only just finding out her name, you feel safe with her placing it there. It feels like she’s trying to steady you with it.

“Nothing, I’ve just never done this before.”

“You’ve never used Uber?” She cocks one of her eyebrows as she looks at you with an amused smirk.

“Very funny.”

Her face straightens out and turns serious for the first time since you’ve been graced with looking at it. You can tell she’s thinking about something but unsure of whether or not to speak it into existence. The ability to read people so far hasn’t disappeared no matter how much tequila you’ve consumed.

“I guess you meant it when you said that Haseul wasn’t your type.” She quietly lets out after a few moments. She spots the confusion once more and continues. “The bartender, her name is Haseul. You told her she wasn’t your type.”

“Oh, no. She definitely is my type. I just… wait, what exactly do you think I meant by saying I’ve never done this before?”

Now it’s Sooyoung’s turn to feel lost by the conversation as she tries to decipher where things have gotten lost in translation between you both.

“Well, girls. You didn’t pick up on me wanting you to follow me and now you’re telling me on my way back to my place you’ve never done this before. I’m assuming that your usual type is the two meatheads working the door stopping people from smashing the bar up.”

Loud laughter fills the small space of the car. The driver even looks into his rearview mirror to see what is so funny that you’re doubled over in pain from Sooyoung’s assumption.

“Oh that’s good. You know, trying to take a straight girl’s home is a massive stereotype.” You’re not sure if the look you’re receiving from Sooyoung is of her being offended or still lost. “I didn’t mean I’ve never slept with a girl before. I meant I’ve never gone home with someone that I just met hours before.”

Everything suddenly clicks into place for both of you and Sooyoung bites her lower lip, likely feeling that same embarrassment that you did earlier with the woman you now know is named Haseul.

“I didn’t think you were straight, by the way. That’s not why you’re here with me. I just assumed from what you said.”

The two of you continue to laugh at just how crossed you’ve managed to get the wires in the few minutes you’ve been traveling towards her home which was longer than you thought as soon enough, the driver is pulling up and asking you both to leave a good review. Sooyoung politely tells him that she will before helping you out of the car.

Had you known that going back to Sooyoung’s apartment meant that you had to conquer stairs, you may have turned her down. Well, you wouldn’t have because she’s the personification of flawless. But you’d have prepared your legs to feel less like jelly and more capable of completing the trek up to her front door.

She slides a set of keys out of her blazer and opens the front door inviting you to step in first. You do and are greeted by a space with hardly any furniture. Sparse is the only word that fits her home. Anyone with a knack for home design would have a field day if they were to be welcomed in too.

“I know, it’s not much. I just moved here from the city and I haven’t had time to finish decorating.”

All thoughts about how Sooyoung could still be a serial killer who has lured you away from your friends to her apartment that is lacking any form of personal touch evaporates with her explanation. You set yourself a mental reminder to never drink whatever that blue liquid was again, it makes you feel way too trusting.

You move further into the apartment and see that it’s spacious and open planned. The kitchen is well lit with brand new appliances that look like they’ve yet to be used. A television far bigger than the one you own sits on the wall of the living room. Sooyoung sits casually on one of the two white leather sofas as she plays with the remote and turns it on to a music channel. A door blocks off both the left and right side of the apartment, likely leading to a bedroom and bathroom.

“You can sit, you know. I don’t bite.” Sooyoung pats the space beside her as she speaks. “Well, unless you’re into that.”

There’s a confidence to everything that Sooyoung says, it makes you feel envious that she’s able to pull it off without being cocky. If you tried, it would likely come out sounding pretentious. You sit beside her, though, there’s probably more space between your bodies than she was hoping for as she shuffles closer toward you.

“So, what now?” Once again, words are leaving your mouth without you thinking about it. But, you can’t help in feeling awkward that she’s seemingly not made a move beyond putting her hand on your thigh since you agreed to leave the nightclub with her.

“What do you want to happen now?”

Truthfully, your lack of experience with the whole one night stand thing had led you to believe that people didn’t even get the chance to scan the person’s apartment that they’d decided to sleep with. Part of you expected Sooyoung to just tear your clothes off the second you walked through her door. Part of you wanted her to do that, then you wouldn’t find yourself in this semi-uncomfortable situation.

The logical side of your brain that is screaming for you to listen to it is instead and telling you that Sooyoung is not a threat. She’s teasing, flirty, and probably thinking about all of the former things your mind has listed, but she has been respectful thus far and it doesn’t look as if that is going to change anytime soon.

“I’m not sure, I told you… I’ve never done this before. I thought I’d be back inside another Uber on my way home by now.” You finally reply.

“Are you accusing me of being a five minute hit it and quit it kind of girl?” Once more, that look of being offended without actually being offended overtakes all of her features. Features you can’t help but admire in the clear lighting now rather than the darkness of the club.

Her face is lacking any blemishes whatsoever, and despite being ready to enter her bedroom, you also wouldn’t like seeing her bathroom just to know what kind of skincare routine she has going on. The same plump lips you wanted to touch with your own are still inviting, but you restrain yourself once more.

“No… But why would you want me to stay once we both get what we’re here for.”

This time, it does offend her as your words hit her like a slap to the face and she huffs out a deep breath.

“Maybe, and bear with me here because it could be a concept you’re unfamiliar with, but just maybe, I like you beyond tonight.”

She stands abruptly and shuffles towards the kitchen area, her footsteps heavier than previously and shoulders slumped. You consider following her to apologize and ask if she wants you to just leave now, but she returns with a glass of water in one hand and a box in the other.

“Here, take this.” She opens the box to reveal a strip of tablets and pops two out of the metallic packaging placing them down on the table in front of you both. “Painkillers for when you wake up, your head is going to feel like hell no doubt.”

She moves away once more toward one of the closed doors but again returns quickly, this time with a pillow and blanket in tow. She lays the pillow down gently and offers you the blanket to hold onto.

“As much as I’d love to spend the night with you, and I would have by the way, had you followed me earlier in the night when you still had some sobriety about you. I’m not much into sleeping with drunk girls.” Despite not having a clue who Sooyoung was prior to tonight, you can’t help but feel both happy and hurt by her words. Happy she isn’t willing to take advantage of people in your state. But hurt because by god you’d love nothing more than to wake up next to her after a night of being beneath her.

She turns on her heels to leave you once more but stops herself upon reaching the bedroom door.

“But hey, I’ve always had a thing about morning sex, so, who knows? Maybe you’ll still get lucky.” She offers you a quick wink before closing the door.

This time, she doesn’t return and you’re left to wonder about just what the morning with Sooyoung might have in store for you.

pt.ii

#loona #kpop #kpop scenarios #loona scenarios #girl group scenarios #ha sooyoung #loona yves #yves #loona reactions #loona imagines #yves x reader #girl group imagines #girl group reactions #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #haseul sweetie i am so sorry i made you straight #i promise i will repent for my sins

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theastrophilearchitect · 4 years ago

Text

I started writing a book.

And I’m mad about it, because I just started this post, brought up a new tab and lost it because I didn’t save my draft.

Anyway. That’s a thing I did. Wow.

As of this moment, this post won’t be going up until April 19th, but I’m starting writing this at 10.30pm on Sunday, February 21st, 2021. I’ve done a lot in the last couple weeks, and I want to have some record of all I’ve accomplished without just letting most of it fade over the next two months.

I’ve always wanted to be an author. From when I was reading under my covers with a torch past bedtime, through the years I wanted to be an artist, through the years I wanted to be a lawyer. It’s always been there - no matter what primary career path I went down, I wanted to be an author. The last few years, I’ve been invested in becoming a biologist, and that dream really took a backseat.

In the start of this lockdown, my mental health went downhill, and some advice my therapist gave me was just to prioritise myself. It sounds simple enough, but, even in my free time, I’d been focusing on schoolwork - revising constantly for exams I’m still not sure are actually happening. (Boris Johnson is apparently making an announcement tomorrow about beginning to ease lockdown, but we’ll see) So, on Saturday, February 6th, I started an attempt to coalesce the ideas I had floating in my head into something tangible.

I’ve tried to write books countless times (not technically countless - I have all the documents on my laptop, so I could if I wanted to), but mostly, I’ve never gotten further than a couple bare plot points and some characters, maybe some ideas for subplots, before I’ve stagnated and given up.

Three times, I’ve finished a skeletal outline. Twice, I’ve started to go back over those outlines only to realise they made no sense or just seemed week, and simply not cared enough to fix it. Until now, I guess.

February 6th, 7th, and fast-forward to my week off beginning the 15th, up until the 19th, I kept developing this concept I’d managed to form, but I was struggling to establish a coherent plot. I had up until and including a midpoint (which was later condensed into just a first act), but everything after that was just a void. I began searching for some skeletal structure I could apply to it, both to work on pacing and fill in the blanks. I tried several, and got a little further, but was about to give up hope.

Then I remembered a video by Katytastic I’d watched years ago about the 3-act, 9-block, 27-chapter structure she used, and couldn’t see the harm in giving it a go. And something clicked.

You can find the video here - the structure’s detailed and easy to follow, plus she even gives an example of using it to generate a plot.

I started binge-watching her writing vlogs in the background, and even started using her same writing program, Scrivener, which just made every a thousand times easier by taking away the need to juggle a billion Word documents. It’s fairly pricey, but I’m currently using the 30-day free trial - it’s 30 days of use, not of ownership, too: if you use it every day, it lasts 30 days, but if you use it once a week, it lasts 30 weeks.

Where Kat used the 27 parts the structure broke down into as chapters, I chose to refer to them as beats, and separate chapters later.

On Saturday the 20th, I finished defining my scenes and started writing an actual draft. I wrote two scenes, putting me at a collective word count (not including notes, synopses, etc.) of 2,580 words.

This morning, Sunday the 21st, I started over. I hated my opening. I’m not going to go through the mess of today’s process, but I currently have around 80 one-line-outline scenes, split into 3 acts. I wrote a draft of my prologue and detailed-outlined (which I’m mentally referring to as zero-outlining because it’s similar to how Katytastic does what she calls a zero draft, but is very much outlining, not a draft) two and a half other chapters. Scriver also tells me how many words I wrote in total, across notes, character profiles, location lists, a document I’ve named ‘Train of Thought’ for my ramblings as I go etc.

Today, I wrote a grand total of 4,141 words, which, rather counterintuitively, puts me at a draft total of 2,598. That makes sense. Anyway.

There are a lot of unknowns in the world right now, and I have no idea how much time I’ll have in the next six months to invest in this project, but I’d like, at bare minimum, to have one complete draft by the start of the next school year in September, which gives me just over 6 months. Which is probably too much time to actually motivate myself, but that’s not the point.

A manuscript needs to have a minimum word count of 50K words to be considered a novel, so, even though my ultimate goal for this project is around 80K words, 50K is going to be my goal for this draft.

I’m being optimistic about sticking with this.

Tuesday 23/02/2021 - Word Count: 3,099 I wrote nothing yesterday; planning to focus writing solely on days off rather than work days, but last night, watching through the incredibly long queue of Alexa Donne writing videos, I came to the conclusion writing every day, even just a little, would be the best way to ensure I keep working on this, so I set myself a goal of just 500 words a day.

Wednesday 24/02/2021 - Word Count: 5,350 After doing a little bit of maths as to how long this outlining and draft would take me if I were to only write 500 words a day, I decided to boost that goal to 1,000. I got started around 1pm today, online school draining me so much I couldn’t face another two hours. I worked on and off until 6pm, and around 4.45pm, I finished outlining Act One!

Thursday 25/02/2021 - Word Count: 7,022 I continued my scene outlining into Act Two, but I hit a brick wall around the midpoint. I have to write chronologically - some people jump around, but I have to write linearly, or it feels like I’m trying to make something in a void. It just doesn’t work. I didn’t know how to get from one scene to the next - there were so many things I needed to establish to get there, but I didn’t want to backtrack. I decided to re-jig the whole thing, but, after dinner, I realised I didn’t have to, and instead, decided to just start a draft, conscious of the things I need to establish as I go.

Friday 26/02/2021 - Word Count: 8,208 Starting draft one, I rewrote the prologue I’d already written, technically putting me to my second draft of it, because I’d been thinking about it for days and just wanted to revisit it, and it was so much better. Then I moved on to chapter one, but decided I wanted to re-jig my chapters. While outlining, I’d split the whole book into only about twenty chapters, but decided to go for shorter ones for more effective divisions of the story. I got most of the way through the first scene of chapter one, but basically ran out of both time and motivation, since I hadn’t heavily outlined that scene. in total, I wrote over 2000 words today, but because I only increased the prologue word count by about 100 words, it didn’t do that much to the total count.

Saturday 27/02/2021 - Word Count: 11,050 I got some chores done Saturday morning and focused on finishing my book so I could include it in my February wrap-up, but I still had time to get some writing done around mid-day. My goal was just to hit 10K this weekend, but I though I could do it in one day. I wrote about 1,000 words before feeling a little word-drained, but took a break for lunch, got back to it and wrote 2,400 words. Though that only added a little over 2,000 to the word count, it took me to 10K! I’m 20% of the way to being able to call it a novel! We’re in quintuple digits!

And then eight hours later, I wrote another thousand words and got to 11K.

Sunday 28/02/2021 - Word Count: 13,722 I spent most of my Sunday morning writing, though it took me more than two hours to write about 1500 words, though it only added about 1100 to my count. I decided to set myself an overall and weekly deadlines to hold myself accountable. Due to the fact I don’t yet have a clue how many words this will work out as, I decided I wanted to have either a complete first draft or 100K words (which I doubt I’ll reach, but it seems like a good way to make myself finish the draft before my deadline) by the end of April. Which works out to a little under 1500 words a day, or just under 11K a week, which is perfectly doable. Bearing in mind my current word count is including outlines, but I still believe in myself.

I wrote another 1600 words later, which took me to 14K, until I deleted the 300 word outline I wrote for one scene, but I worked out my words per day for the next two months with the assumption of a 10K word count as of March 1st and a target of either a complete draft or 100K words by the end of April, so I’m nearly 4,000 words ahead of schedule. Which gives me 6,606 words to write this week, instead of 10,328. (If you couldn’t tell, I like numbers. They just make sense to me.

Monday 01/03/2021 - Word Count: 15,005 I didn’t quite hit my daily goal, but I was completely leached of motivation today, I’m ahead of schedule anyway and I was only under by less than 200 words. It’s alright. But, hey, we hit 15K! Two days after hitting 10K!

Tuesday 02/03/2021 - Word Count: 21,119 This was an insane writing day. My end-of-day target was only 16,480, and that was still ahead of schedule - if I was sticking to the 100K by April 30th, I’d only actually need to be at 12,950 today. This was the best writing day I’ve ever had. I wrote before school and during breaks, which kept both my writing and working momentum up.

I didn’t read a page of my current read, but I wrote a total of 7,681 words and increased my wordcount by 6,114 words, or literally an additional 40.75%. I hit 20K three days after hitting 10K, and am 42.238% of the way to being able to say I wrote a novel, be it a shitty first draft that won’t be complete at 50K words.

I also finished chapter three, which I’ve been working on for three days and came out ~5,000 words, and wrote chapters four and five in their entirety.

Note to self: this is day 10 of vaguely outline-drafting this project.

Wednesday 03/03/2021 - Word Count: 23,364 I've only written 490 words today, as of writing this update, but I just wanted to make note of the fact I've done some calculations, and can reasonably finish my draft this month. I'm still not completely sure how long it'll work out to be, so I can't quite work out my daily words to finish on the 31st, but if I stick to my current 1,475 words a day, I'll hit 63,894 words by the end of the month, which is a little less than I imagine this draft will be, but if I stick to that as a minimum, my first draft won't have to go into April.

I'd like to post this later this week, but I already have a post for this Friday, so God only knows how long this will be by the time it goes up. So far, I've written 1,900 words today, and I don't think I'm out of fuel yet, but I'm stopping because I need to read today, and I'd rather not burn out. I'm over my goal, anyway.

Oh, also, I'm nearly at 25K, which is halfway to a novel, but I haven't broken into Act Two yet, which means this book will be 75K minimum. I'm going to do some maths and work out how many words a day to hit 80K by March 31st. 2,030. That's doable. So I haven't read, but back to writing for like ten minutes.

I've now hit an additional 2,245 words for the day, though I wrote a total of 2,663

Thursday 04/03/2021 - Word Count: 25,415 I've decided to work out how many words I need to write each day to hit 80K by March 31st, and watch the fluctuations. (I like statistics). It should steadily go down throughout the month if I surpass it each day. Today's minimum word count is 2,023, already seven words less than yesterday's. How exciting.

The last scene of Act One was very heavy on world-building I haven't yet figured out, so I stuck what was meant to happen in brackets and just moved on, meaning I have now broken into Act Two!

I think, during the week, I'm going to focus on just meeting my minimum word count rather than exceeding it, just to save fuel for the weekends, when I can write so many more words.

And, we hit 25K! I'm halfway to a novel!

Friday 05/03/2021 - Word Count: 26,693 In complete honesty, I'm beginning to lose momentum. Maybe it's just today, but I don't really want to write and feel like I need a break, but I'm going to make myself write anyway. I'm going to make myself keep writing until this draft is done, however shitty it may end up. I really hate first drafts.

When you say 2,000 words is only 7-8 pages, it doesn't sound like that much to write per day but my god. Luckily, most of the stuff I've had to save to a Pinterest board called 'Writing Motivation' says if you write when you don't want to, it should pass instead of worsening. I wanted to hit 35K this weekend, but I'm not sure I'll have the momentum. I'll at least hit 31,270, though, which is my minimum goal for this week. I'm still over 700 words off my goal for today, but I'm taking a break because my head is foggy and there's still eight hours left in the day. Besides, 700 after dinner is easy. She says, realising she's probably jinxing it. Oh, well. 80K by March 31st would be difficult, even if I weren't going back to school soon, but that's a stretch goal. 100K by April 31st is my minimum, and I'm 9,000 ahead of where I need to be for that.

I think I’m stagnating because I’ve hit the ‘Fun and Games’ section, which I find really boring. I’m going to try to keep going with it, but I may just skip it and come back later.

Saturday 06/03/2021 - Word Count: 28,150 So, I did not get the extra 700 words in. Before dinner, some stuff I had to deal with came up, and by the time it was done, I just wanted to go to bed, so I did. Today, I'm going to try to make up for it, which I think is reasonable because it is now the weekend. I'm still kinda exhausted this morning, but I'm going to do my best, and my wrist hurts, but I'm not sure why. You'd think it would be from all the typing, but only one wrist hurts - you know what? Never mind. They do both hurt. I'm just not sure why, but it doesn't hurt typing this, so that doesn't make any sense. Anyway, to hit my word count for the day, I need to write 2,555 words, which doesn't sound like too much, but it kinda is because I'm primarily writing Act Two at the minute, and for every thousand words I write, I lose like 400 from my outline. You'd think I'd just not include my scene outlines in the word count, but it's too late for that now.

I'm thinking this over, and I really don't think trying to write 80K by the end of the month is going to be good for either my motivation, mental health, or ability to function back at school, so I'm going to stick to 100K or a finished draft by April 30th, and re-work out my goals from there, based on yesterday's word count, so I'm not making myself do catch-up today.

So, to hit 100K by April 30th, I only need to write 1,309 words each day (which will decrease over time because if that's my minimum now, I'll probably surpass it, decreasing the amount of words left etc.). That's so much less pressure.

God, I really don't want to write today. I just want to watch YouTube and Netflix and read.

Okay, so here's the thing. I've been working on this story straight for three weeks and I'm kinda exhausted of it. I'm not done with it, not at all, and I want to keep working on it because it exists, which makes it workable.

I watched a writing vlog by ShaelinWrites yesterday, and she said she writes different projects at once, alternating in week- or multi-week-long blocks. I think I might try that.

My plan with this post and the following updates was to keep updating it until the day it goes up, the day after which is when I begin drafting the next, but, since I may be switching projects for a while and this is really about the project I've decided to dub 'Bay Tree' (which is just, I guess, a pseudonym for here because while I have no idea what it would eventually be called, I know that's nothing like the title I'd want to give it) so I'd want to start a new post for a new project.

I'm now doing a little outlining instead of actually continuing writing, but I think this will help me, though I'm still not certain about whether or not I'm going to directly continue with this specific project for the minute. Instead of setting daily goals based on a target, I'm also just going to say 1,000 words a day, and see where that takes me.

I've just been outlining into Act Three, and I've met a major plot stumble, but I'm going to work that out and explain what I'm doing in my next writing update.

So, go drink some water, eat if you haven't eaten in the last few hours, stand in front of the mirror and tell yourself how wonderful you are and how much happiness you deserve, and, if you want to write a book, stop thinking about it, and go write.

#blog #blogging #blogger #blogpost #blog post #writing #books #book #reading #read #write #writer #author #draft #first draft #story #writing blog #writerblr #bookblr #novel #debut

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holyyrose · 5 years ago

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And They Were Roommates - H.H

A/N: This has been in my drafts for a long time and I’ve been in love with this concept for a while, but apparently I struggle to string a simple sentence together lately lmao.

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Roommate AU/Collage AU - The Reader is strapped for cash and much to their dismay Hyunjin seems to be the only one who can help.

Part One / ?

Word Count: 1809

______

“What do you mean you can’t pay the rent, I thought Minho was paying half? He is your roommate after all.” Seungmin questioned, as Y/N, Seungmin long term best friend followed him into a café, thankful that this place had warmth, which contrasted significantly to the weather outside that had nipped at her skin, making her deeply regretful for leaving her apartment this morning without a coat.

After a long day of work, Seungmin became fed up with disorderly customers that came with working in retail and was in desperate need for a break. Therefore, as Y/N’s self-proclaimed best friend, he took it upon himself to interrupt her studies and insist that she meet him at a café in the centre of town. Much to her dismay, he insisted she come instantly, meaning the work she had left far too late to start, would be put off once again, probably not to be completed until late night with yet another caffeinated drink buzzing through her system, but being equally exhausted and frustrated, she agreed, hurrying out of her small apartment to meet Seungmin.

“He was.” She has exasperated, moving along the queue alongside Seungmin, pulling out her purse so she could pay for her order, however, Seungmin had waved her off, insisting he’d pay. “So, he just stopped giving you his rent money without any warning?” His face scrunched up with distort, confused by what it seemed she was insinuating.

“What? No. Minho would never. His mother had knee surgery a few weeks ago and she’s been struggling with the recovery. Minho thought it would be best if he moved back in with her for a few months, considering his father works away a lot. I couldn’t tell him that without him living with me, I wouldn’t be able to afford this apartment.” Seungmin sighed at her remark. Grabbing their drinks from the barista, he made his way over to the sofa that was nestled in the corner of the cafe, with fairy lights strung between bookshelves, creating a welcoming and content environment.

“Things haven’t been too great for him. He lost his job at the music store because they went bankrupt then his mum needed surgery. I couldn’t do it to him.” She continued, letting out a low sigh before slumping back into the sofa, letting the plush pillows welcome her. A part of her feeling idiotic for not telling Minho, even more foolish when the words were coming out of her mouth, but it didn’t feel right. She couldn’t burden Minho even more. However, it was evident how strapped for cash she was therefore, she was relieved when Seungmin had decided to pay for her drink.

“You’re too nice y/n/n,” Seungmin laughed, sliding her coffee across the table. “You need to be more direct.”

“This isn’t funny, ok. I need your help, not your laughter.”

“What you need is to find a temporary roommate, someone who can afford to pick up the rent when you’re short.” He continued, rolling his eyes.

“You know,” He paused, drawing out his words. “I happen to know that Hyunjin is looking for an apartment, he has the cash, quite a lot if I do say so myself and-”

“No, no!” She had exclaimed, cutting him off completely. “Anybody but Hyunjin. You know I can’t stand him.” She exasperated, looking at Seungmin pointedly.

“His house got infested by rats. He needs a place to stay. He’s currently crashing Chan’s sofa because he doesn’t have a spare room, but I’m sure he’d appreciate sleeping on an actual bed.”

“Absolutely not!” She contested, as she took a sip of her drink.

“I’ve overheard him telling Chan and Jisung about those dumb parties he throws, and I can’t afford to lose my deposit on this place.”

“You know what, I take it back. You’re awful y/n/n,” He laughed, shaking his head. “You barely know the guy, I’m sure he’ll respect your decision to be boring.” Seungmin smirked, knowing how easy it was to annoy her. He rummaged through his bag, pulling out his phone before typing away. Her phone lit up, alerting her of a text.

“Here is his number. I know you’re too stubborn to admit it, but you’re desperate and Hyunjin can help you.”

She tried to ignore Seungmin’s stare by looking down at her coffee and fiddling with the lid.

“I don’t hate him.” She had murmured. “Try despise.”

“Y/n/n!” Seungmin exclaimed, furrowing his brows. “You can be so difficult sometimes.”

“Ok, I’m sorry.” She sighed, holding her hands up in defence. “He’s just so arrogant ok.”

“He’s one of my best friends, Y/n/n, please consider it. I know you find him infuriating. I do sometimes, but he has the cash and he’s currently sleeping on Chan’s couch, at least feel some sympathy for him.”

“Sorry for Chan.” A few moments had past and Seungmin had yet to speak. The silence was deafening, and he knew that.

“Ok!” Sitting up straight, Y/N hoped to cut the tension. “Give me a few days and I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Seungmin smiled, changing his demeanour instantly. “Now let me tell you about what a shitty day I’ve had.”

Day’s seemed to have passed like lightning, Y/N easily becoming consumed by work. It seemed finding another source of income had gone to the back of Y/N’s mind. Instead, deadlines and reading had become the forefront of worry. Although her rent was due in a matter of days, she had pushed to the back of her mind hoping that if she ignored it long enough it would just go away. It seemed that balancing getting a degree and a part-time job as a hotel receptionist was becoming increasingly harder, especially when she had to pick up twice as many shifts as possible to ensure she had enough money to live. Luckily her boss allowed her to do some work during the graveyard shifts as it seemed not many people need to check-in at 2 in the morning, however, maintaining these shifts did mean an unhealthy sleeping pattern which took an overall negative impact on her day to day life. Perhaps ignoring her problems wasn’t the answer.

The day had been long, a 7-hour shift on her day off from University was usually fine, but with the little amount of sleep she had consumed over the past few weeks had started to take a toll on her well-being. Therefore, when she entered her apartment to find heaps of boxes scattered everywhere and 3 boys lounging on her sofa, she deemed it to be a hallucination.

“Ahh, there she is! Y/n/n! How are you?” The voice of her self-proclaimed best his friend, Seungmin, had snapped her out of her thoughts, making her realise this was not, in fact, a hallucination, but real life.

“What are you guys doing here?” She questioned, stunned by the unexpected appearance of Seungmin, Jisung and Chan.

“Erm.” Chan had started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, almost as if he found himself caught red-handed.

“And what are these boxes doing here?” Stepping closer, she kicked the side of a box, regretting it instantly, as her foot collided with the hard surface, causing her to let out a string of profanities.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that sweetheart.”

This particular voice had caught her attention, causing her to freeze and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. Meeting the gaze of this unknown voice, she felt dread coarse through your veins.

Hyunjin.

“I’m moving in, what do you think it looks like?” Moving further into the room. Hyunjin appeared in full glory, a smirked staining his lips. He brushed past her, nonchalantly, picking up the box she had just kicked and turning to walk towards Minho’s old room.

“I never officially said you could move in.” She yelled, exasperated by his presence, hurrying past the three lounging boys on the sofa who appeared amused by this interaction, groaning as she pushed past their dangling legs to follow Hyunjin into Minho’s room, who had already unpacked most of his belongings.

“Well I was getting a little impatient waiting for you to make up your mind and Seungmin here said it would be no problem.”

“Excuse me?” Spinning on her heel, she looked directly at Seungmin who, alongside Jisung and Chan had followed you into Minho’s room. If looks could kill, everyone in the room would be 6 feet under. Looking around, Minho’s room was looking extremely different than the last time she had stepped foot in here. If she was to admit, she hadn’t actually been into Minho’s room for a long time, however, she vaguely remembered photos of his cats which stood proudly on his shelf and memorabilia from concerts they had attended together streamed across his dresser had been replaced with a large bottle of vodka and small trinkets. Most of the stuff she didn’t recognise, but the posters that littered the wall caught her attention. They were almost like Minho’s, but Hyunjin’s taste seemed to vary. His taste seemed to be a little darker. Seungmin froze at Y/N’s exclamation, stunned by her outburst.

“You heard me, sweetheart.” Hyunjin pressed, smirking slightly, almost as if he was thriving off her irritation.

Her face heated at his remark.

“I can’t believe you three are letting him do this.”

“You need the money,” Jisung started, slowly moving from behind Chan, raising his hands in surrender. “And you can’t keep this up.”

She shrugged him off and crossed her arms. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

“It isn’t healthy,” Chan interjected. “And Hyunjin here has money.”

“I don’t care if he has money, I don’t want him living here.”

“You look a mess.”

“Excuse me!” She gasped, turning to face Seungmin, who had appeared next to her. He let out a small cough before continuing.

“What I mean is, you’re exhausted, and you can’t keep pulling extra shifts just to get enough cash. You’re a student and have a lot of responsibilities, so I think it’s only right for us as your friends.” Seungmin spoke, gesturing to surrounding group.

“Hyunjin isn’t my friend.”

“That’s a little harsh don’t you think?” Hyunjin laughed, as he flattened one of the boxes that had previously held his belongings.

“As your friends,” Seungmin continued, becoming irritated by her stubbornness. “We think it’s only right for us to intervene when we think necessary.” Scoffing, she turned to leave the room, refusing to hear the reality of the situation.

“I’ve already paid 3 months of rent in advance, including your half, so it looks like you’re stuck with me sweetheart.”

She stepped forward, yanking the piece of card out of Hyunjin’s hands, huffing as she did so, but not before saying, “3 months. That’s it. But one slip up, and you’re gone.”

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #jyp

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a-table-of-fics · 4 years ago

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Oddworld, Conar's Ambition, Chapter 2, Draft 1

[[Thanks to Tumblr updating the post length limit, I can finally put the full draft of Chapter 2 in one big post!]]

Slim was silent in line to Slugbite Motel. The chatter was hopefully decent cover; he didn’t need yet more attention after his outburst. If he kept his head down, he’d be fine, and wouldn’t get any more surplus bruises on top of the regular workday bruises.

He heard chatter all around him, gossip from other Slog Huts, Splinterz, and Flub Fuels.

“Management must be pissed, what with -”

“I can’t believe what Skrag did to me! What got into-”

“- hear about FeeCo?”

“We’re gonna be settin’ some electric fences up tomorrow, anyone know about -”

“ – say Abe’s got to Necrum –“

“ -Sligs must be worried if Abe’s getting’ to their place –“

Any talk of Abe was, of course, in whispers. No one believed him to be a terrorist, really, but everyone knew better than to celebrate. Well, everyone but him, apparently, but still. Slig forces were already pretty antsy right now, and there were cameras everywhere. Besides, it was a long day full of more abuse than normal. Everyone was just ready for bed, so to speak. Sure, it was less a bed and more a closet with a dirt floor and next to no elbow room, but it was a place to sleep, nonetheless.

It was almost his turn in the queue. Slim dug in his pouch for his meal ticket. With any luck, he’d get half a Scrabcake with the somewhat edible slop they served here. He presented the ticket to the Slig clerk Jeandis. Jeandis took one look, rolled his eyes from under his visor, and then slammed the counter to his left, deepening the indentation next to the bell. A Mudokon, wearing a light brown cap with deep red stripes and a similarly-colored loincloth, emerged from the back door, carrying a tray of gruel with him.

The tray had no trace of Scrabcakes, sadly, but it did come with a small can of that drink everyone was talking about – Soulstorm Brew. The green can with that nondescript Glukkon’s face on it was an interesting look, at least, and the somewhat sickly Mudokon in those commercials did look exceedingly happy when Director Phleg gave him a crate of the stuff, as if it was sorely-needed medicine. Slim even saw the server longingly stare at the can he had to give him.

“On the house… buddy,” Jeandis said, his line carefully rehearsed. “You saw the commercials; it’s a freebie!”

“Um, okay, thanks.”

Slim took his dinner tray and a plastic spoon over to find a seat that was open; this was no small feat in a Slugbite Motel. Many Mudokons had long since given up on the prospect, instead sitting on the floor against any given wall. He noticed how everyone was given similar cans of Brew, and a lot of the chatter he came across was already shifting from the recent Abe scare to the Oddsend the new drink was.

He walked through the throngs of fellow Scrubs, the smell of Brew filling the air. It was very strange; a tangy aroma that was also somehow familiar. The chatter grew louder and more animated as time went on, and even Slim was feeling a little less tired from the fumes and infectious cheer.

Still, it was a long day, so he still prepared to just sit down and eat. He found a place next to Ben, and dug in. Well, as much as you could dig in with whatever this was. Some said those were fruit chunks mixed in with the goop, some said they were Elum Chubs, but one thing for certain was they were undercooked. It was well known that this was the least of dinner’s concerns, sadly.

Slim took a few shaky scoops, doing his best to forget the words “gag reflex”. He was able to swallow the muck as usual, but he found himself coughing; it felt like he was eating sawdust under the slimy texture!

“Yeah,” Ben said, sympathetically, “Jeandis’ Special really sucks today, doesn’t it?”

“WHO SAID THAT?!” demanded Jeandis, so loud that everyone on the other side of the cafeteria could clearly hear the greenish-yellow Slig. The din died down as a furious head chef stomped over to the wall where the sound came from. There were at least ten cowering Scrubs under his wrathful glare, and they were all pointing grey or green fingers at each other.

“This is more than you deserve, ya miserable Chippunks! You oughta know I could—Eh?”

He was interrupted by frantic whispers from the server Mudokon, who was quick to rush up to his boss. He lowered his fist, slowly, and his face-tentacles sagged.

“…You oughta know…er…I could getcha another can of Brew to…wash it down…?”

Nine out of ten Mudokons were nodding enthusiastically, and the Scrubs at the surrounding tables cheered.

“Shut up and get in line again if you want another round!”

Almost all the Mudokons immediately shot up and sprinted into line. Some of them trembled excitedly while they waited.

Slim had never seen the cafeteria so alive or enthusiastic before. This Soulstorm Brew stuff must have one hell of a kick. If he drank it now, he’d probably be up all night. Best to save this stuff for when he needed it – no need to come to work tired tomorrow.

Besides, if all else failed, he had a bartering tool now.

With this in mind, he tucked the can he had into his pouch. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to sleep with a dry throat; he knew better than to ask Jeandis for anything else to drink.

His body still ached, and it had been a long day on top of that, so while Jeandis was occupied with his sudden fame, Slim quietly ate up the rest of his “meal” and left. With the “first come, first served” policy of getting a room for the night, he was able to get one right by the cafeteria for once. He might even be able to get breakfast tomorrow!

He dug in his pouch for his ID, and a quick scan gave him the room for the night. As the door closed behind him, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the windowless closet. When he did, he could see all kinds of scratchings on the wall. Short complaints about bosses and a variety of tally marks filled most of it, but there were some other things. There was the occasional crude drawing of a bird, which gave Slim nostalgia over something he never experienced. There were conversations between anonymous Mudokons, about the latest gossip, concerns, and anything else. It was comforting; they watched out for each other and kept each other informed even when they didn’t really know each other.

With his nightly reading done, Slim slumped down to the ground. The dirt here was cool, but nothing he wasn’t used to. With any luck, he wouldn’t wake up to Bolamites crawling over him, but that was a problem for future him. Present him just had to be absorbed by the soft earth, and dream of a better workday, one where Abe saved him from this miserable job and blew up the Slog Hut.

It was all he could do, really.

* * *

It wasn’t even five minutes before he felt a cold breeze, and the light of the hallway made him squeeze his eyes shut more before sitting up. A hand went up to shield his vision, but he was still blinded for a moment while he tried to make out the silhouette. A Slig, for sure, but that hardly narrowed it down. The Pants were pretty basic, being two robotic legs attached to a large ball. However, the giveaway was the mask that obscured this particular guard’s face. It was one of the older visors, like some Sligs still wore, with a single long visor. However, this one covered his scalp, forming an ugly black helmet rather than just a scary red visor. Only Conar had that version, but what was he doing here of all places?

Well, it couldn’t be anything good. Slim shuddered, wondering what he’d have to apologize for to get a manager from work to find him in this motel. But… no beating or gunfire came his way. In fact, Conar looked taken aback. He wasn’t aiming his Blunderbuss anywhere in particular, and his head kept turning either way, as if he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Well, whaddaya know, Slim,” he said, after a moment. “Funny I’d run into you here…”

Slim blinked, lowering his hands, but remaining where he was.

“So, uh... you wanna get outta shoveling Slog crap?”

Slim opened his mouth to answer, but Conar grabbed his arm, so the Scrub’s confused questions were interrupted by his own yelp.

“Time’s up!” Conar said, hearing the chatter die down in the cafeteria. “We’re leavin’!”

“Oh-okay…”

“And you’re gonna shut yer yap! We ain’t supposed to be doing this, you know!”

With that, the two of them silently beat feet away from the hubbub of the mess hall, kicking up a lot of dirt on their way.

The hall separated into two different ways at the end. Conar knew that to the left was the back door he came from, and was going to drag Slim with him. But Slim had other ideas, nearly pulling Conar out of his Pants as he pulled them both to the right.

Conar adjusted his seat so he could run properly again, then struggled to get out of Slim’s grip.

“What the hell?!” he protested, before realization struck, and he quieted down. “The back way’s the otherhall!”

“Where do you think most’f the Sligs are?” Slim harshly whispered. “Seen at least four Mudokons try that, and they never make it to the parking lot!”

“Oh, and the front door’sgonna be much better? Hah!”

“Dunno,” Slim shrugged. “No one’s tried it.”

Conar was about to say something pretty snippy, but he saw they were close to the lobby. The pair stopped just short, and Conar looked ahead. There wasn’t much to see, past the dozens of bored Mudokons waiting in line to be checked in by a very bored Glukkon receptionist, complete with a very bored Slig there to type the guests’ numbers in.

No one was looking their way, so Conar motioned for Slim to follow, and the two of them walked towards the other exit. They made it about halfway through before the Pud looked up.

“Where do ya think you’re goin?!”

“Ah…” Conar started, before regaining his composure. “Y’see, he was volunteered to work overtime tonight! Just came here to pick ‘im up!”

The Glukkon rose to his full height, which would have been impressive if he had shoulder pads or any non-plaid clothing. His assistant also rose, clicking a pen as violently as one could manage. Both Conar and Slim hunched a little, preparing to put their hands over their heads.

The receptionists walked over, sneering. The Mudokons in the queue muttered, some talking about the scene, others complaining about this new delay between them and dinner.

The Glukkon leaned close, so close Conar could almost read the miniscule nametag.

“We have procedures for this, you know! Guests –“ he said the word like most would say “slurg”, “—are to be signed out before leaving the premises!”

Slim blinked. It was hard to tell if Conar did the same.

“Yeah, er…” Conar said, rubbing his head. “Sorry, sir. I thought you wanted ‘im in line, too.”

“And risk the liability?” the receptionist exclaimed. “No, we have registration protocol for a reason!You security and your..your… unprofessionalism!”

His assistant merely gave Conar a look of resignation before marching back to check the Mudokons in.

“If we were to mix the lines like that, our quotas would go kaput! And this is a fine establishment!”

Conar chose not to bring up the dirt floor or the mold-eaten wallpaper. He was already debating whether or not this endeavor was worth it. Zoning out and wondering about that was far easier than listening to this chump.

“…My brothers and I… investors….”

Conar nodded along, thinking about the future, and the riches that would be in store for him. Maybe he could force Zeb to work for him. Of course, something like that would come after a little bit of begging for mercy. But what to spend the well-earned Moolah on? Maybe he’d get himself a nice, classy suit, with premium Slig Pants, armor, and a nice, big gun with all the works…

“…So, I’d really appreciate it if you’d show some class and go to the other desk!”

“Yes, sir!” Conar nodded, moving over to the empty desk. The Glukkon waddled over to the other side, and started controlling some machinery with his shoes.

“Name?”

“Slim.”

Tap, tap, tap.

“…Not found in our records.”

“Can’t you just add ‘im?”

“We just went over this! There are procedures! It will not be as simple as your mind! I can’t just add a Mudokon who is already in the--”

As Conar prepared to sigh, Slim stepped forward.

“Sorry sir,” he said, putting on his best Gluk-pleasing face (that is, a weak smile politely begging for mercy), “He must not’ve read my ID. Do you need my number?”

The receptionist laughed, looking down at Conar while nodding. He kept chuckling at the absurdity of this Slig’s ineptitude as he worked the pedals, searching for Slim by number. He finally stopped adding to Conar’s humiliation, catching his breath while reading what came onto his black-and-white monitor.

“Right, right, you’re all set to leave. Can’t be too careful this day and age, with all those escapees… Anyway, give him a few corporate-approved smacks to keep him in line, would you?”

Connar nodded, a little too hastily. After a moment to ensure no signature or receipt was needed, he turned and poked Slim with his blunderbuss.

“Alright, get movin’. We’re goin’ to work, now!”

Conar couldn’t believe it; he was expecting a tense escape, maybe an amazing shootout. But no; he was walking through the front door, with a Mudokon openly in tow. He even waved at a couple of the guards on his way out. He looked up at Slim, who kept himself hunched and shivering in a clearly practiced manner. The two of them marched in silence for a while, with Conar occasionally tapping the muzzle of his gun against Slim’s back for effect.

“You’re welcome,” Slim finally said, once they were closer to the Slog Huts again, and well out of earshot.

“What, you expectin’ thanks?” Conar asked, laughing at the audacity. “I was the one bustin’ ya out, y’know!”

Slim gave a smug grin, leaning against the wall as he did so.

“Oh, really? You go out the back with a Mudokon like you wanted, they’d be throwing your lead-filled ass into the recycler faster than you can say—”

He tried making that noise he heard many Sligs shout, but it sounded more like his lungs were playing tug-of-war.

“Yeah, well, you seemed pretty comfy in that filthy closet.”

“Ha, yeah, thanks,” Slim laughed, looking around for a moment. “So uh, why didja get me out of there anyway?”

“Right, yeah,” Conar said, clearing his throat. “So, you’re gonna help me take Zeb down a peg. If that Abe guy can take down RuptureFarms, I figure you can help me get his Moolah and ruin ‘im!”

Slim’s smile faded, and he looked at Conar like the Slig grew legs on the spot.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nah,” Conar shook his head. “This should be easy; we go in, hold ‘im at gunpoint, and—”

“And just how,” Slim asked, leaning forward until he was face to face with Conar, “do you expect us to ‘go in’? Do you even know where his office is?”

Conar’s smug grin faltered.

“Eh--? I…”

“To say nothin’ about the security he’s probably got! You got the news just like I did; they’re scared. They probably got security tighter than Jeandis’ skull there! Didja think any of this—”

He was cut off by a blunderbuss muzzle under his chin. So it was going to be certain death or immediate death, he saw.

“…G-got it. So, what’s the plan, boss?”

#oddworld #oddworld conar's ambition #oddworld fic #chapter 2 #draft 1 #oddworld conars ambition full chapter

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puppygirlcuddleslut · 5 years ago

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So apparently I was supposed to be raybanned but whoever it was that hacked my account decided "Hey, let's just put the posts in drafts instead of queue" and I only realized it because I was messing around with a post trying to add a tag to it but it wouldn't let me so I went to drafts to see if the edit was there. But nope, found out I was hacked instead fjccncjcnfn Proof btw. There was 5 of them in there just like everyone has gotten

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marshmallowgoop · 6 years ago

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So have you watched the other stuff Studio Trigger has made (Little Witch Academia, Darling in the Franxx)? If so, what are your thoughts?

I try to watch Trigger’s original series at least! I got tags for Kiznaiver, Space Patrol Luluco, Little Witch Academia, SSSS. Gridman, and the A-1 Pictures/Trigger collab, DARLING in the FRANXX. For some of these shows, I’ve written about my thoughts fairly extensively:

DARLING in the FRANXX

Goop Watches: DARLING in the FRANXX

Episode 1: Alone and Lonesome, More

Episode 2: What It Means to Connect, More

Episode 3: Fighting Puppet

Episode 4: Flap, Flap, More

Episode 5: Your Thorn, My Badge

Episode 6: DARLING in the FRANXX (Outline Only)

Do You Think DARLING in the FRANXX Will Have Several Tone Shifts?, DARLING in the FRANXX Has a Lot of Heart

Do You Think the FRANXX Will Only Operate with Certain Pistils?

English Simuldub

Ending Thoughts, Thoughts on Endgame Couples, Thoughts on Hir02

Episode 1: “And you weren’t frightened by my horns.”

Episode 3: “The hand she held out and the smile she offered to me alone came at a price.”

Episode 12 Quick Thoughts, Responses

Episode 13: Amazing Piece of Animation

Episode 13: Does Zero Two Recognize Hiro?

Episode 13: Zero Two Biting Hiro (and Hiro’s Response)

Episode 14: Reaction

Episode 14: Thoughts on the Ichigo Hate Train?

Favorite Moment from Kill la Kill and DARLING in the FRANXX?

Human/Non-Human Romance

Third Ending Sequence: Lily Flower Symbolism and Ikuno

Why Watch DARLING in the FRANXX?, Would You Recommend DARLING in the FRANXX?, Would You Recommend DARLING in the FRANXX and Kill la Kill to Someone Who Dislikes Fanservice?

X Symbolism

Zero Two: Manic Pixie Dream Girl?

Kiznaiver

Flower Symbolism in Kiznaiver’s Ending Sequence, Revised

Kiznaiver Episodes 1 and 2: Thoughts and Impressions

What is Kiznaiver About, Exactly?

SSSS. Gridman

AX Premiere Thoughts

Space Patrol Luluco

Episode 7

Space Patrol Luluco and Kill la Kill Crossover Idea

Space Patrol Luluco’s Finale vs. Kill la Kill’s Finale ☂

Buuuut I know that’s a lot, so:

tl;dr?

Inferno Cop: Okay, I admit it. YouTube-Poop-styled humor is ridiculously amusing to me. (I once did a whole final project in college about YouTube Poop. Yes, really.)

And the horrible cut-out animation will never fail to make me crack up. Inferno Cop is truly a masterpiece.

Space Patrol Luluco: Hey, I actually finally picked this one up at Comic Con about a month ago! While I wasn’t expecting to enjoy Luluco much, I think it’s actually my second-favorite Studio Trigger series after Kill la Kill. It’s just really cute and silly and fun. As I realized in excruciating detail at a Comic Con panel I went to, most anime humor honestly doesn’t do much for me, but when the panelists showed a clip from Luluco? That got me smiling. Things can get mean-spirited at times (which isn’t my cup of tea), but overall, I think Luluco has some real heart. And it’s adorable.

Kiznaiver: Oh, I was so excited to love this show! I was lucky enough to see an advanced screening of the first two episodes, and I was totally hooked. It was drop-dead gorgeous—and probably the prettiest series Trigger has ever put out—and I was very intrigued by the plot and characters. I remember just coming back to my hotel room at like 3:00 am after the premiere, utterly filled with excitement. I mean, Kiznaiver was directed by Hiroshi Kobayashi, the episode director behind the two episodes that got me hooked on Kill la Kill (episodes 5 and 18)!

But… my excitement quickly died. The story tried to develop way too many characters in way too little time, and I never enjoyed the romantic pairing of Katsuhira and Noriko, finding it shallow, undeveloped, and nonsensical (in a bad way), which… kind of ruins a lot of the series when that’s arguably the heart of the whole thing.

Kiznaiver is still super, super pretty, though. That last episode’s animation got me shook.

Little Witch Academia: I wish I loved this one more than I do. I really, really admire Yoh Yoshinari as an artist and director, and I know LWA is totally his baby, and the animation in both the series and shorts is so good, and I don’t know if I’ve ever related to any character ever as much as I relate to Akko Kagari, but… I just… don’t really have any strong feelings one way or another about the work on a whole.

Maybe my issue is that Little Witch Academia comes off as rather meandering to me. I’ve always felt (perhaps very wrongly!) that the focal point of the story is the relationship between Akko and Ursula/Chariot, but there’s just… so much else going on.

I can relate, though. One of my babies is the first novel I ever wrote and completed back when I was 13. There are so many ideas I have for the story, and I’ve tried to stuff everything into my drafts. But you end up with an unfocused narrative without a solid core when you do that, and I sadly feel that that’s what happened with Little Witch Academia. There’s a lot of good stuff, but it’s just too much for one story!

I will say that I enjoyed both OVAs more than the series, though, and the first OVA is my favorite.

DARLING in the FRANXX: Oh, DARLING in the FRANXX. While I definitely had the obvious problems with this show when it started, the promise of a legitimate human/non-human romance was more than enough for me to keep watching anyway.

But after episode 15… everything fell apart. The romance I was there for became boring and bland, with the leads nauseatingly reiterating how in love they were instead of actually talking to each other or dealing with any of their problems. So much potential character depth got swept under the rug, and to make matters worse, the world building revealed itself to be even more ludicrous than imagined, there were some absolutely bizarre and potentially very hurtful messages about love and sexuality that I can’t even begin to make sense of, and the less I say about the ending, the better.

Of course, a poor conclusion doesn’t always spoil what I did like about a work; I still obviously adore Kill la Kill even though I despise the finale and the OVA legitimately makes me feel ill. But DARLING in the FRANXX is one of those stories where my disappointment is so great that I kind of… don’t even want anything to do with it anymore. The stuff I had loved is soured by how everything ended up.

I still have some great DARLING content in my queue that I definitely intend to post because it’s not the fault of any fan that the final product came out so lackluster. But I’m personally just pretty done with this one.

If there’s anything I’ve learned from DARLING in the FRANXX, though, it’s that I probably should hold off on buying merchandise until I’m sure I actually really like the thing. I certainly didn’t spend anywhere near as much on this show as I have for Kill la Kill, but I still dropped a fair amount on stuff that’s kind of wasted on me.

Live and learn….

SSSS. Gridman: I got the chance to see the premiere of the first episode at Anime Expo last year, but I unfortunately can’t say I was all too fond of what I saw. I’m slow to warm up to comedies, and while I love cliches and the series definitely acknowledges and has fun with its cliches, the characters didn’t stand out enough for me to find the cliches particularly endearing.

Also, there’s absolutely no deep or meaningful reason behind it or anything, but I do not like what I’ve seen about Akane. That kind of character archetype annoys the crap out of me.

But Gridman is really neat from a directorial and compositional point of view; I really liked, for example, how there weren’t just a bunch of boring shot-reverse-shot conversations, but conversations that spent time focusing on the backgrounds and scenery and environment instead. I also feel like I’ll really, really enjoy Gridman if I actually watch it past episode 1, but… I’m bad at doing things.

I think when I do watch it, though, I’ll do a livebloggy sort of deal?

Others: I haven’t seen anything else from the studio (unless you’re counting stuff animators from Trigger have worked on, like Takafumi Hori’s contribution to Steven Universe, which are always excellent, expressive, beautiful animations), but I’m moderately excited for the upcoming Promare. The fact that it’s apparently a family-friendly film has got my interest.

And I got a kool Promare sticker already from Kumoricon last year, too!

#official-raven-branwen #official raven branwen #replies #ramblings #long post #inferno cop #space patrol luluco #kiznaiver #little witch academia #darling in the franxx #ssss. gridman #spoilers #?

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seaveysbabygirl · 7 years ago

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Happy (post) Halloween! Hope you went to cool parties, ate a shit ton of candy, and got some😉 ( I thought I had this on queue yesterday but apparently I hit drafts instead🤭)

#daniel seavey #happy halloween #why don't we

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adorealeclightwood · 7 years ago

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Alec in 3x10.

It took me forever to get around to actually doing this because a bitch was hurt, okay? Fuck. This whole episode was rough. Plus, I thought I had this in the queue, but it’s actually been sitting in my drafts since Thursday, so forgive me for being a temporary dumbass lol.

Let’s get started.

I’m going to begin with the scene we were all waiting for.

Right off the bat, I loved that Magnus told Alec more about his history with Asmodeus. He may be a greater demon, but he took Magnus in when he had no one else, and was the only person in the world he could relate to for a very long time. I think it was super important for Alec to know that, and to know that Magnus turning to his father for help after all this time was no easy choice.

Then, he finds out Magnus is going to Edom, and he can’t be the understanding boyfriend anymore. He can’t just stand there and nod, because there’s no fucking way he’d ever be okay with this.

Magnus cracks a joke about the cell service being terrible there (which I thought was interesting - more on that later), and Alec doesn’t find it funny, because “this is insane”.

Last week, I said I had a problem with Magnus asking Alec to tell him that Jace wasn’t worth it, but now that I’ve had the chance to watch the whole episode a few times over, the line wasn’t nearly as bad as we thought it would be. Magnus wasn’t “forcing” Alec to make a choice - he’d already made the choice for him, because he knows how much Jace means to him. He also knows that while Alec cares for Jace, he’d never bring himself to ask Magnus to do anything that would put him in danger. By stepping up and making his own decisions (like the grown ass, powerful ass man he is), he was giving Alec one less thing to worry about.

On top of that, we have to give Magnus a lot more credit, especially where Alec is concerned. While a lot of the choices he makes have a lot of connections to Alec, ultimately, Magnus makes decisions for himself. Deep down, I’m sure Alec understands that, but he’s got a one track mind, remember? He has a tendency to jump to conclusions when it comes to people he loves, and right now, Magnus is about to descent into hell to save his parabatai, and stop Lilith. That’s a lot to process within a couple of minutes.

(I’m horrible with explanations right now because I’m running off three hours of sleep, so forgive me if I’m confusing you.)

Then, we get the iconic scene we’ve been quoting for months.

Magnus is ready to go, but Alec isn’t quite ready to watch him leave.

“You’re gonna make it back, you hear me?”

The way Alec’s eyes move up and down Magnus’ face? As if he were committing every last detail to memory on the off chance that Magnus didn’t make it back?

Bitch, I almost passed out.

“Why wouldn’t I? Look what I have waiting for me.”

And Alec can’t do anything but kiss him, almost like he’s memorizing that too. Then, they pull away, but keep their eyes closed; they’re savoring that moment, because there’s a very real possibility it’ll be their last.

That got to me.

I want everyone to know that nothing about this was forced. Nothing.

Magnus did what he did because he chose to do it. He’s allowed to.

Remember that.

Moving on.

WE GET TO SEE ALEC WITH HIS BOW AND ARROW.

I may be the weakest Alec Lightwood stan in existence, but when I see my man with his favorite weapon, my Alec-is-about-to-commit-some-badassery senses start tingling, and I start yelling. I also turn my TV up dramatically, because you know I love dramatics.

Not only is he back in archer mode, but he’s talking to my newly crowned dynamic duo: Luke and Maryse.

Luke asks if he’s heard from Magnus, and for a minute, it’s like everything comes rushing back. He hesitates, but not for too long, because he can’t let them know that there’s anything wrong. I know it was Magnus’ choice to go to Edom, and there’s still a part of Alec that wants to save Jace no matter what, but it doesn’t change the fact that in Alec’s mind, Magnus being in hell and not right there by his side feels very wrong, in a way. Maryse makes that extremely gif worthy quote about Magnus waiting to make a dramatic entrance, and Alec does what he’s been doing since season one.

He takes every bit of the worry and anxiety he’s feeling, and locks it away to focus on the mission. A very dangerous mission that his mother is ready to take part in.

And of course, protective Alec makes an appearance to ask Maryse to sit this one out. I feel like it’s important to mention how seamless of a transition they seem to be making. Not too long ago, Maryse probably would’ve been the one calling the shots, and Alec would’ve made sure everything went according to plan. Now, he has to tell her to stay out of it, because it’s dangerous for everyone involved, let alone a woman who just recently lost her shadow hunting abilities.

Life comes at you fast, dude.

Next up, we get a little impatient Alec, who is also one of my faves. (Right up there with salty Alec.)

“Simon’s been in the building forever, what’s taking him so long?”

“Alec, it’s a high rise.”

I screamed because that is so Alec. Like, he doesn’t care if it’s two stories or twenty - hurry the hell up.

Izzy takes a look at the magic Lilith is using, and once again, Alec shows us how much he’s grown.

“With or without Magnus, we have to get Clary out of there.”

I’ve been saying I want their friendship to prosper, but THIS IS PEAK FRIENDSHIP. Clary’s in trouble, and Alec wants to save her. Not because of Jace, Izzy, Magnus, or even Luke. Alec wants to save Clary because she’s a friend.

Excuse me while I kick and scream in excitement over that, as well as that little exchange between Simon and Alec, who also need to join the BFFs club.

Okay. On to the hard shit.

[Note: Have any of you guys seen Deadpool? The first one, not the new one. Deadpool makes a comment about a superhero landing, and the Owl totally nailed it, only he’s not a superhero. He’s a villainous demon, but I thought I’d point it out anyway.]

As soon as the Owl lands in front of Alec, it takes him all of two seconds to get his bow ready. The last time he saw Jace, he was in tears, scared out of his mind. The time before that, he was in Magnus’ loft, talking shit to everybody.

Last time, he begged for death, and Alec refused to kill him. He isn’t going to make that mistake again, no matter what the Owl says to throw him off.

Then, the fighting starts, and the struggle is real, because the Owl knows him. He’s tapped into every corner of Jace’s mind, so he’s learned a lot, including Alec’s fighting style. They’re parabatai; they’re meant to be fighting together, letting one’s strengths cover for the other’s weaknesses. They’re not supposed to fight each other for real. For training purposes, yes, but not with the intent to kill.

Alec does that sexy ass backflip move and gets his arrows ready, and the Owl gets Jace’s blades out. I’ve mentioned Alec fighting defensively instead of offensively, and every time I spoke on it, I was thinking of this particular scene.

The Owl starts doing all these extra spin moves, and Alec dodges him every single time. He waits for an opportunity to present itself, and when it does, he takes it, stabbing the Owl in the knee with one of his arrows.

So not only is Alec the equivalent of a sniper with his bow and arrow, he can also use them up close and personal in hand-to-hand combat. I love a man with multiple skills!

Back to the fighting. They’re both kicking, swinging, and doing a whole lot of grunting, but nothing really happens until Alec stabs him again, this time in the arm. The Owl gets slash happy with the blades, but of course, he never cuts Alec, and Alec stabs him for the third time.

At this point, Alec is clearly tired of fighting this bitch, and then I started thinking: maybe that was the Owl’s plan all along. Say some stuff about tearing him apart with Jace’s hands, make him think he’s got the upper hand for a little bit, then pounce at the first sign of weakness. It’s rude, yet effective.

Then, the Owl does something to Alec that fucked me up mentally. I talked about it here. He broke Alec’s hand, and I felt it through the screen.

Anyone who’s ever broken a bone knows what I’m talking about.

Alec screams, and the pain is both physical and mental, because the bones in his wrist just made a noise no one ever wants to hear, and also because it’s his hand. An archer with a broken hand is like a car with no engine. It just doesn’t work.

The Owl gets Alec on the ground and starts talking shit (as usual), but this time, he’s holding one of Alec’s arrows, and he’s ready to kill him. Alec stops him, and starts talking to Jace, because he knows he’s still in there, and he’s crying, because his worst nightmare is playing out in front of his eyes.

Alec is on his back with one of his own arrows being shoved into his chest, and the only thing he wants is for Jace to know that it’s okay; he forgives him, and he’s sorry they couldn’t save him.

Selfless men just break my heart in the most exquisite of ways.

Then, Magnus king-of-saving-the-day Bane shows up, and we all breathe a little easier.

After he blasts the Owl back to whatever hellhole he crawled out of, he goes straight to Alec, who’s still lying there with an arrow in his chest, making jokes.

Earlier in the episode, when Magnus was preparing to go to Edom, he did the same thing, because he was trying to hide how terrified he was. Now, Alec is trying to hide his pain.

Literally everyone on this show picks up little things from one another.

Jace is finally back to himself, and runs over to active one of Alec’s runes. It could’ve been an iratze (you know, the magical rune that can apparently heal everything from a tiny cut to a broken spine), or maybe another rune to make him comfortable so he doesn’t hurt himself with every breath.

Magnus tells Jace he’ll take care of Alec, but before he leaves, he looks down at him, and Alec nods. He’s already reminded Jace that it wasn’t his fault, and now, he’s got the love of his life by his side. Even in the midst of a crisis, Alec hasn’t forgotten the mission. Their whole reason for being at that building.

Clary.

He was only meant to kill the Owl while Luke and Izzy went in to get Clary, and now that Jace is back, they still need to save her. So he nods, because even though it’s a shitty situation, they aren’t finished yet.

This episode just...ugh. My heart.

Alexander Lightwood deserves a thousand hugs and kisses, and all the love and protection this world has to offer.

Thanks for coming to my final Ted Talk for 3A. I can’t wait for August.

#Shadowhunters #SH 3x10 #Erchomai #Alec Lightwood #Matthew Daddario #Malec #Jalec #Character Analysis

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tootherteeth · 6 years ago

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oh my god I’m a dumbass

i made a typo in Yasamin’s name when I made the two hands post the first time so I saved it to my drafts while I fixed the image but apparently it went to my queue instead lmao

so uh, that’s why there’s two versions w h o o p s

#i didnt even notice until JUST now lmao #so THATS why it wasnt in my drafts when i looked

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scummy-writes · 8 years ago

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This blog is only going to be used to post personal fic updates from a much more controlled environment, AO3, and nothing else.

This post has been set to queue post two more times for timezones and then no more after that.

Explanation under the readmore:

This is to the shock of absolutely no one, but I can’t do this anymore.

A lot of you guys have stuck here with me from the beginning, and, unfortunately, got to learn about personal stuff I never intended to share. Some of that came around in discussions, of some events that happened, or back towards the beginning of the year that severely impacted me and still does to this day.

Back before I made this blog, a few months before I had started playing MM. I loved it, thought it was great for an otome, and fell in love with all of the characters. Like a lot of people, I ran into the game when I wasn’t doing too well. Things at home were horrible, I had no job, I had recently gotten out of something life altering and was still struggling with myself. This game helped me out, sparked my creative flow again (I think the last time I had published something that wasn't for a friend was a good four years ago), and inspired me to write and share what I had written.

Then, when my stories got an incredibly large amount of hits, and I saw HC blogs circling around, I made one. This one.

I made it to share stories, ideas, and small headcanons- To share positivity, and maybe a bit of fictional angst. For a couple of months, things were going well. A got such sweet followers, I had great support- But then I brought back a fic people had wanted, originally taken down due to me unable to plan a decent plot, and harassment began.

And, well, a lot of you have been around for that whole debacle.

Then. Just more issues started coming up. Instead of this blog being fun, being something I was so glad that it was making people happy, things just went downhill. Constant negative messages/comments, constant drama- I just shrugged it off for the most part, but then I realized that most of this drama, most of what is starting to wear me down, is just because I didn’t write a character how one person wanted me to.

Just because I apparently wrote a character ooc, for two fics, apparently warranted harassment spanning over months– Like literally absolutely fucking months. Do you know when it started for me? March. February for others. But hey, everyone’s seen this, right? God knows I’ve reblogged it countless times hoping the fucking hateful anons would stop coming in. Except They. Kept Coming. Over and Over Again. I even took a fucking hiatus and stopped writing the fic this person couldn’t stop obsessively hate-reading only to immediately get shit on again.

I’ve had my mental Illness, PTSD, and overly traumatic and sexually abusive events in my life degraded, along with many of my friends and now victims of this who did absolutely nothing wrong, while friends and I were being told we weren’t ‘thinking of the abuse victims’ when being confronted about liking a FICTIONAL CHARACTER, Jumin, who was being deemed abusive by this ‘anon’ . My illnesses and abuse history that I had mentioned before and even directly to this person’s messages.

I’ve had the harassment that my friends and I have went through be deemed to be nothing because “Well this user always likes my posts”, “This user sends me a nice message sometimes”, while those same people ignored the posts of the user even completely opening up and admitting to what the fuck they’ve done.

You connect all this with some personal issues of mine- The issues surrounding my mother’s attempt, the strain with my family, and my own personal mental health namely- and, well. It’s hard to view this blog positively anymore.

I’m just not happy anymore. Namely, my current emotions are probably connected to another depressive episode, but even before today- It’s just been hard.

I made this blog to have fun- Because people enjoyed my stories, enjoyed my headcanons- And now due to all this drama and harrassment I just feel disgusting.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, honestly. I never made this blog to be constantly harassed because some dipshit couldn’t ignore my fanfic, couldn’t block my blog and ignore me, couldn’t just move the absolute fuck on with their life instead of spending nearly a whole year attempting to stalk me, attempting to harass me for every little asinine thing. Of course this had a strain on my writing- I after the haitus I just could barely put out HC’s anymore. I kept saving drafts, getting stressed to fuck and back because I didn’t know if a typo was going to cause me to be blasted with insults to my writing and life, I didn’t know if I expressed Zen having insecurities was going to send another flood of anons like I had received many times before. You think all the messages in the Call Out are bad? All the ones that weren’t in it and I didn’t link in this post? What about all the ones you all didn’t see because I deleted them before I even let myself think about them, because I had no energy just to put up bullshit because all I ever, ever, fucking did was write a Fictional Fucking Character a little fucking different from canon.

And that’s not all- There’s a support group in a discord server my friend set up because I’m not the only person this dipshit has gone after. There’s at least ten god damned people that we know of getting this same treatment- and there’s probably so so so SO many more that are probably feeling the same emotions I did. And FUCK, friends of us are even feeling drained because it’s absolutely sickening that we’re being harassed for liking a genuine love interest in a fucking mobile otome game. In a VIDEO GAME.

You know what I did? I went back into fucking therapy because of all this, because my major depression and anxiety kicked into full gear because I was sharing my writing, something that I made, something that meant so much to me because for once I wasn’t being mocked or laughed at when I wanted to be creative. The harassment got to me so fucking badly I had to go to therapy again.

I’m so blown away by how all this shit I’m dealing with is because someone just couldn’t ignore my blog/ao3 stories. That they think harassment is excusable because I won’t write or stop writing what they want me to.

So now, characters I used to help me cope with a very serious issue of mine, just make me feel empty. My coping mechanisms are failing, and running this blog isn’t becoming worth it anymore, not if I’m even going to be bitched at for trying to show lesser known artists to some newcomer in the fandom.

So. I don’t know. That’s why I hardly post anymore. I feel disgusting and empty, for a game that I used as a coping mechanism. Instead of it making me happy, all this drama and this god damned person just makes me regret even writing in the first place.

So no more hc posts. My writing has declined, we all know it, god knows it won’t stop being pointed out to me, and I shot myself in the foot doing character limits. My Hc posts went from getting so many sweet comments to one once in a blue moon, the majority of the comments I receive on here about my HC’s are just a constant stream of hatred, and I just cannot fucking do this.

I just wanted to have fun.

you guys can find me on my twitter (@Mm_Scummy) and my AO3 (Scummy). I’m not posting anything else to this blog unless it’s fic updates, and even that I’m debating on. I’m just keeping this blog up to keep what writings I did enjoy up, and just because I can’t bring myself to delete anything where I did get support.

If this post makes you angry, or makes you upset that it’s came done to this:

SUPPORT CONTENT CREATORS. Don’t sit around and let them be harassed!! I cannot even begin to tell you how amazing it felt when I would get a message from a random follower just seeing if I was okay. Just saying that they hoped I felt better, or just sending heart emojis. Every little bit of support means so, so, SO much to content creators after they’ve been outright harassed or taken advantage of, because it shows that you care.

REBLOG THESE POSTS:

- THIS one because the word needs to be spread that content creators do not owe you anything.

- And THIS one because the user that keeps harassing me and so many people, so many that we may never know who all they have harassed, uses the Anonymous tool on every single platform they can to hurt people, and she is NOT above making new accounts to continue her harassment over and over again. Because god knows we have blocked her account and have never, ever, fucking unblocked it and she STILL didn’t get the most obvious hint that what she is doing is absolutely, undeniably fucking disgusting and in no way excusable.

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