#nix: practice posting

[elpurata-victim]

spent my time tonight trying to learn the magic behind @dataglitch artwork, and what i found is that... oh my god that artstyle is so evil in the best ways. i usually stay away from harsh shapes or brushes but this was really fun, ended up actually lurking outside of my comfort zone for once. this was purely a colour and rendering study (im so evil about lineart) but it was so fun wth wth, im looking forward to making some of the techniques better suited to my own artwork

[gyrovagi]

decent odds that half of the veilguard crew thought rook was dak-wai's actual name for a hot second. i don't think dak-wai and davrin ever like formally met pre-game but i think davrin at least knows that the tal-vashoth warden who got reprimanded for insubordination was named something that was not rook. It would be funny to me if harding had for real forgotten their name though because she'd only been hearing and saying rook for the past year.

i don't think dak-wai is crazy about the nickname? but they don't have anything against it either. they regard their name as something kind of private, and pre-game tended to go by an adopted surname taken from the village they were hanging out in for a couple years. thorne literally was only used in the backstory letter at the beginning of the game LMFAO so i honestly might as well cook up my own surname for the vibes. something very funny to me about fully cantonese name + fantasy germanic surname. dak-wai von aschemund or something. imagine.

[godzexperiment]

realizing how much nix jokes about being an angel,etc and how that is before he knows about humans depictions of angels (his initial horrified/that becomes less common 'what the fuck that isn't how it went- angels aren't like that' followed by the amusement)

im just- not him probably having verses+times where he prepares his version of: b̷̼̭̉̏̉e̶̜̻͇͔̭͌̀ ̸͇̩̮̫̦̦̀̊͘n̴̡̻͍̬̫̠̂͒̚o��̢͈̭̭͚͐̀͝͝ṯ̶͔̜̞͐̉̀̆̓ ̵͍̊͆ä̴̳̻̤͖̇̂̕͘f̷͈͔̹̱̬̯̏r̴̢̲̩̦̩̿̉͠͝ă̴̢̨̙̥̭į̴̪͚̂̉́̄̋d̵̩̰́́̀̃͘

nix: okay so angels typically announce they aren't an threat, usually by being moderately threatening! i need to do that, it's the socially acceptable method only to do it and the other party gets scared (him feeling terrible) or he does it only to get met with 'lol that's a neat party trick'

[moonshynecybin]

hi, i hope this isn't weird but you're like a motogp scholar to me and i have a question bc i can't really find an answer; do you know of the medical specifics of marc's arm injury? like ik what happened but i haven't been able to find an article beyond oh he broke it. like is there a reason it's so bad and why he had to get multiple surgeries for it? like was it crushing nerve ends, grinding cartilidge, etc? tysm if u decide to answer

the best and most direct source for this is gonna be marc marquez all in. they’ll show you the bone scans and walk you through the rotation of how it healed and some info about the other surgeries etc but theres also a lot it leaves out about BEFORE that surgery so i'll try and help out. HUGE caveat that i’m not a doctor but the GENERAL info goes like this:

jerez, july 2020: marc fractures his right humerus after the tire of his bike hits it during a highside near the end of the race. he flies to barcelona, gets one million nails and a plate put in himself by perennial motogp bone saw doctor xavier mir, and hopes to show up the next week to race four days after surgery (also in jerez #covid)… at the time its all kinda standard if like. a lil crazy but he is honestly really flippant about the whole thing you get the sense that (like others before him) he kinda thinks what he’s doing is badass. i mean he’s postin this shit on instagram like LOOK AT MEEE

anyways so he is declared fit to ride (NO RADIAL NERVE DAMAGE YAYYY), the test for which seems to be doing decline porno pushups with his cock out. and it’s all kinda like. well this is a short, 13 round championship year, so every race counts and marc has just won four championships in a row (6 out of the last 7 years!!!) and has something fundamentally wrong in his brain. marc voice well yeah jorge lorenzo came back after collarbone surgery in 2013 and it depleted him for years but im different. im better. PLUS it’s alex’s first year in the premier class (also at factory honda which is a can of worms we shant get into) so he’s not as involved in monitoring his insane older brother as he is post-arm saga bc he has shit to do and marc hasn’t missed a GP due to injury at this point since his first bout of diplopia in 2011. hes broken his leg a few weeks before the season before and been fine. marc is marc. so he’s gonna try and race.

anyways! that doesn’t happen lol. marc DOES go out for all the practices (the death nell.) but it’s p clear that the arm is fucking busted. he stresses the injury the fuckkkk out (probably where the bone gets rotated? unsure) and then goes out for one lap of quali and can’t do it anymore, pulls out then and there and is like okay. i’ll rest on it

august 2020: now here’s where i’m like hm. because according to MARC, he is a perfect angel doing PT until he randomly opens a glass sliding door one day and the arm rebreaks (SHOULD be kinda impossible with all the hardware in him lol). i frankly suspect that he was also doing motorcross training to put more stress on it bc he mentions that his people have had to remove the wheels from his personal bikes to stop him from training before (to be fair i think this was during the shoulder rehab he was doing during the 2019/20 winter) and like. you don’t get that kinda policing from the guys who love you without some previous behaviors lmao. also literally he was posting himself doing weight training on that arm on tiktok the day before as evidenced below. i digress but the bone is broken!!! and he gets more surgery from dr. xavier mir. and oh boy does it heal wrong

so there’s not a lot of updates in this time bc marc is like. in his cave in cervera rehabbing like wow what a setback gee i sure can’t wait to be back on my bike… like i don’t think it had really set in that this was a lifelong injury yet. and unforch in december it’s revealed that the fracture is not healing, and he needs further surgery. this time he nixed dr mir and went to a specialist clinic in madrid (that’s partly why he moved there !!)

the clinic also discovered there was a previous infection in his bone, which probably halted the healing process further. it should be noted marc does not go to dr. mir for surgery anymore, which genuinely could mean absolutely nothing. he stayed in the hospital on iv antibiotics for ten days

after this and a LOT of time in the sling (12 weeks is best practice who knows what marc practice is lmao) he comes back to motogp in april of 2021 for the portuguese grand prix, with the stated goal of building up strength in his arm and evaluating where he’s at, which tells you how hard that last surgery was on him. in 2021 i think it starts to set in that this isn’t going to go away, and during this whole year and the next he’s in clear pain every time he’s on the bike AND the bike is kinda bad so its just awful hell lol. like yes he does win a few races but he cries every time and you can tell its really getting to him. this is the period that alex talks about where the pain is the worst, and marc is being mean to everyone around him, and he’s taking a lot of painkillers and complaining about having pimples/losing weight on instagram and generally having a miserable time. he calls this period "a nightmare" all the time

okay now we fast forward until 2022. marc has moved to madrid to get a girlfriend to see his bone doctor more. and the pain is NOT stopping. and the bike honestly sucks so hes not winning AND he just had a diplopia relapse so whats the POINT. and he's suffering and can feel the time in his career ticking downward like sand slipping through an hourglass and he goes to the all or nothing nuclear option and reaches out to the mayo clinic in the USA to see a specialist and see if he can do anything for him, disregarding the rest of the 2022 motogp season. and the specialist says yeah. we took a 3D scan of that bone you just spent a year of your life healing and it looks BUSTED AS HELL. truly from the stress he put on that thing while it was still healing it rotated 34 degrees and THATS part of why it hurts so much. its why he has no strength in his elbow, why he can’t brace anything with it, why his range of motion is so limited, why he can’t open a bottle of water by himself. it’s really degrading his quality of life, and most important to marc: its fucking with his riding lol.

and this doctor says well we break the bone again, rotate it back normally, and see how it goes. it could give you less pain and more ability to brake into corners. it could ALSO end your career. and marc sees the bone scans and agrees to surgery p much immediately. and he gets mayo clinic surgery in minnesota and takes hot girl instagram pics outside because of course he does. the craziest part of this article is when the surgeon says marc has "a great capacity for sacrifice"

and he gets another badass scar and thats where we are today! as to where the arm is now. well he says its isnt a normal arm but its more "uncomfy" in day to day life. i dont believe him but thats fine. like he DOES do a lot of maintenance on the arm i think thats fair to say. he has a limited range of motion. mat oxley says he'll wait until he thinks no one is watching and look like hes in pain when hes in the paddock. his gq interview w "essential things" included a massage gun and PT rubber bands. he stretches it out before races p extensively. he has a PT gurney in his living room. idk, he contradicts himself on this fairly regularly in order to suit his rhetorical needs at a given time, but im inclined to believe that hes in a LOT more pain than he lets on, he just also has more mobility to do sports things (his base level on his hierarchy of needs) and is in a lot less pain than he was in 2022. i think theres also a point that marc brings up in the documentary here that should be noted-- he emphasizes that he didnt do this to improve his quality of life (alex is the only one who mentions this actually, and HE makes a deliberate point to) but instead that he did it so he could win. i'd invite you to do with that information what you will !!!

sources: x, x, x, x, x, x

[azsazz]

Off Grid

Azriel x Reader [Formula One AU]

Summary: Ferrari has signed on rookie driver Dorian Havilliard. Azriel must learn to navigate the 2024 season with a new teammate and his secret relationship, with you, who just so happens to be the team’s media trainer.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,109

Notes: This one goes out to @moosemahboi for the ask this morning 😏 enjoy 😉 (idk why I can’t tag u but hopefully you see this)

Also, sorry if the formatting looks like shit I’m posting this from my phone. I busted this out so fast tho whoops

_________________________________________

“Azriel, how are you feeling knowing that Ferrari has signed young Dorian Havilliard for the 2024 season?” The reporter asks, sitting eagerly on the edge of his seat. He has his phone out, recording Azriel’s responses. The man has been hanging onto every word Azriel has said; him and the other thirty journalists eager to pester him, all cramped within the small room.

Beside him, Cassian snickers under his breath, all too obviously happy that he’s not the one who must suffer this torturous questioning. Azriel refrains from rolling his eyes at the absurdity of it all. Well, it’s not absurd but it feels like it because it’s been the only question anyone seems to care about right now, they no longer care to ask how the new chassis feels, what his thoughts are about the new Las Vegas race added to the schedule, how he’s projected to be one of the top drivers this season. Was supposed to be one of the top performing drivers of the season. Ever since Ferrari leaked that Dorian Havilliard is making his debut with the team for the first race, it’s been a feeding frenzy for the media, trying to be the first to glean insider information about the fresh meat.

“I think he’ll make a great addition to the team,” is all Azriel offers in response.

He’s hot and sweaty from practice and being blinded by flashes of cameras that don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon isn’t helping his mood in the slightest. It’s the part of his job that he despises the most. All Azriel wants to do is drive, because nothing feels as good as the adrenaline when he’s behind the wheel, but right now all he wants is to go home, not respond to million questions he’s already answered too many times before. And to be honest, he’s kind of pissed about Ferrari signing Dorian Havilliard and nixing Rowan Whitethorn, who has signed on to be McLaren’s first seat after Aedion Ashryver’s accident at the final race of the 2023 season that sent him into early retirement.

There’s a beat of silence, and when it’s clear he has nothing else to say about the matter, someone else pops up from their seat and another question is hurled his way. “And what about your former teammate, Rowan Whitethorn? How is he taking the news of losing his seat to Havilliard?”

The urge to roll his eyes into his fucking skull is so great he almost doesn’t stop it, but the last thing he needs is the team’s media trainer on his case about the appropriate ways to conduct himself during media panels, no matter how pretty she is.

They should be asking this question to Rowan or even Dorian, whenever he begins press for the upcoming season.

“Rowan understands,” he tries to hide the sour tone in his voice. Azriel and Rowan have been driving together for the past three seasons and it’s been one of the best experiences he’s had with a teammate in Formula 1. He knows the constructors are too worried about placing him on the same team as Rhysand or Cassian, who he grew up with at karting school. They’re like brothers and they act like it too, but if they were on the same team the rivalries would feel even more drastic than they already are. “He’s a good driver and talent like his isn’t going away anytime soon.”

Rowan’s new teammate, Hunt Athalar, nods from Azriel’s other side. He and Cassian seem to be enjoying not being pestered with surface-level questions, and Azriel wishes that he was feeling the same.

With a few more unnecessary queries about Dorian, press finally ends. He, Hunt, and Cassian are escorted from the room, the trail of flashes and conversation starting up clinging to his back as he walks.

“Fucking hell,” Azriel mutters to Cassian, who jabs him in the side with a snigger once they’re cleared the room, the door shutting with a loud click behind them. “I hate these interviews.”

“Don’t need to tell me that, mate,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and Azriel glares. “I’m pretty sure everyone can tell. Might want to learn to act like you like it, though. Ferrari won’t keep you if your attitude sucks. But I’m sure that media trainer of yours is about to hunt you down and tell you the same thing.”

Azriel frowns. He thought he’d done a pretty good job at deflecting the questions about his new teammate.

“People like me for me,” Azriel shrugs, defending himself. He’s never been a bullshitter, no matter how badly his team has wanted him to be. This is what the people get, 100% Azriel, take it or leave it. And Ferrari has decided to take it, for the last three seasons. The second half of his sentence is drowned out as Cassian’s snickering becomes full-bodied laughter. “And my trophies speak for themselves.” He doesn’t mean to come off as cocky, but he’d rather be authentically himself than a puppet to the media.

Cassian shakes his head, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corners of his eyes. “No, people like me for me,” he winks at Azriel’s glare. “They like you because you’re a decent driver.”

Azriel’s nose crinkles. “Decent? My car is projected to perform even better than Rhys’ this year!”

They three drivers turn down a hall, nodding to the two Haas drivers they pass: Bron and Hart.

“We’ll see, won’t we, Athalar?” Cassian cranes his neck around Azriel, directing the question to the silent driver on his other side. Hunt and Azriel have never been close, but the angel of McLaren offers a genuine smile in response.

“Should be a good season, boys.” Azriel and Cassian share a look. A perfect media-trained answer, Hunt gave. The other driver turns off down another hall, “See you later.”

“What a weirdo,” Cassian mutters once Hunt has disappeared from sight. “Good luck to Ro, having to deal with that.”

Azriel finally rolls his eyes like he’s been wanting to do since he left the press room. “Yeah, and I’m the asshole.”

Cassian huffs and the pair of drivers stop at the end of the hall where it splits to go to their respective driver rooms.

“I’ll see you later, man.”

“Hopefully in a better mood, Azzy,” Cassian chuckles and dips down the hall before Azriel can toss another glare or remark at him.

Shaking his head, Azriel returns to his driver room. He’s going to grab his things and get the fuck out of here, because relaxing at his hotel sounds much better than waiting around here any longer.

A knock on the door interrupts his actions, and Azriel wonders why the Mother fails to grace him with one sliver of luck today.

“Come in,” he grunts, snagging his water from where he left it on top of the desk.

You enter the room with your phone and clipboard in your hands. You’re typing on your phone, fingers flying across the screen as you reply to another email. The water does nothing to quench Azriel’s suddenly dry throat.

He can’t help the way his eyes drag down your body with your attention on your phone, drinking in the sight of you in your pressed pants and professional button up shirt. There’s a lanyard around your neck with your Ferrari employee access printed on it and he wants to wrap his fist around the strap and—

Wherever his mind was drifting off to is completely shattered by your piercing eyes. He hasn’t had enough time to prepare for your apparent annoyance at his attitude during the press conference. You don’t look happy, and neither is his name as it rolls from your lips in a disappointed manner. “Azriel.” You step further into the room. “What the hell was that out there? You know you can’t—”

Your rant is cut off as Azriel consumes the space between you in two long strides, leaning in to slant his lips over yours, eating up your words. You can’t help but to melt into it a little, a lot when his tongue traces the seam of your lips and you part for him, brushing up against your tongue in a sensual move.

When he straightens, you’re panting and a bit flushed. Arousal burns through your body like petrol on the track, but you steel yourself against that fire in his eyes, all ready to light you up.

“Not even going to say hello before you start in on me?” Azriel asks, licking his lips. Your eyes follow the motion, and he smirks. The way his body is pressed up against yours and the firm grip of his hands on your hips threatens to distract you further, especially when his red racing suit is slung around his waist, leaving him in that tight, black long sleeve that contours around his lithe body perfectly.

“No,” you agree, and he frowns. “I’m upset with you.”

“Was it something I said?” He cringes at his own lame attempt at a joke, ducking from your serious gaze. “‘M sorry, I’m just sick of all the Dorian questions. They’re not asking anything about the season or the car, only how I feel about a rookie taking Rowan’s seat.”

You ache for him, you really do, but things like this happen in the sport and he’s been in it long enough now that Azriel should know better than to act like this. You can admit, Rowan had been an asset to Ferrari and to Azriel, wriggling his way under the stoic driver’s skin like a worm, burrowing deep into his heart.

“Az, you need to stop playing it like Dorian took his seat on purpose,” you console gently, “We both know that it was Rowan’s time, and he couldn’t resist what McLaren might’ve proposed.”

“I know, I know,” Azriel replies unhappily, retreating to perch on the arm of the small couch. He can accept it, but he doesn’t like it, preferring to blame the new driver instead. “I don’t want to deal with that little punk,” he groans, because the thought of putting up with a cocksure rookie tires him. “Coming in here thinking he owns the damn place.”

“Azriel,” you tut, rolling your eyes. You put a hand on your hip. “That was literally you four years ago.”

“It’s different,” he mutters, but you both know that it’s not.

You abandon your phone and clipboard on the desk in the room before standing between his parted thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. His damp hair is slicked back but a strand falls across his forehead and he looks really good like this, head tilted upwards, gold eyes painted with false innocence.

“Why don’t you, instead of being Dorian’s enemy, you become his ally?” You ask softly, fingering the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Because that’s not how the team works, baby,” Azriel sighs, enjoying the way you’re scratching his skin. He wants to lean forward and rest his head in the crook of your neck, maybe take a cat nap or nip at the skin there. “We might drive for the same team, but I’m not looking to be the supporting driver.”

Fuck that. There’s no way he’s letting a rookie take his seat when he’s worked his ass off since he received it. He’s been driving for Ferrari since he first got an in the sport, four years ago. He fought tooth and nail to work up from second seat to first, and Azriel will be damned if Dorian rips it from under him in one season.

“Your jealousy is showing,” you tease your boyfriend a little, poking him on the nose. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, hanging all over each other when anyone could walk into the room, but you can’t resist your draw to Azriel. “It’s not as endearing as it is when you’re jealous that I’m talking to one of the engineers.”

“Don’t remind me,” Azriel grunts, eyes hardening a little. “You’re mine and I don’t like to share.”

You snort, “That much is clear, babe,” you step out of his arms and miss the heat of his body already. You collect your things from the desk and return to him for a quick kiss. You shoot him a final knowing look, dodging his attempts at capturing you against his chest again. “Work on it, Azriel. I mean it.”

He salutes you as you open the door to slip out. “Yes ma’am.”

It shuts quietly behind you and Azriel slumps back onto the couch, sighing.

It’s going to be a long season.

_________________________________________

@iambored24601 @secretlyhers @kylaisra @daily-dose-of-sass wasn’t sure but figured u might want to see this one 😅

[charon-hydra-nix]

Hey, welcome to Nix's blog! Nix isn't writing this post, but he's present & verifying what I write for him so I can give the lowdown for anyone who stops by. The short version is that Nix is a very young alter of @patricia-taxxon who is more apart from the system than normal and wants his own space for himself where he can be a kid. (of sorts.)

Some facts: Nix is a mouse, he is somewhere around nine to eleven years old, possibly younger. He doesn't have much of an identity yet, but he loves space & the solar system is his main special interest. Jupiter is his favorite planet, but the moon system of Saturn is his favorite place in the universe. Nix is autistic and, if my theorizing is correct, he is from a very dark time in our past.

Part of the reason we thought Nix should have his own blog is because he often gets stressed out by the interactions he has on our main, and for that reason, I'll be setting up some boundaries for him. There's a lot of fuzziness to plurality, but practically, Nix is a child. He might seem different from most kids, but that's because he's in the brain of an adult and has been blending in to hide himself for years upon years. We want to keep this space very respectful, sarcasm-free if that's possible, and also resolutely SFW. He appreciates attention from people who are older than him rather than other kids, so feel free to ask him any questions, although he can't promise very interesting answers since he's so new to being aware of himself.

We're not sure yet what Nix will use this blog for, but if everyone participates, then maybe he'll have a better idea of what his online life can be like, separate from Avery and I. Thanks!

-Amber

[lupoteodoro]

My Ron Livingston Watchlist Guide

Must-Watch

Office Space (1999)

Band of Brothers (2001)

Ron Livingston's Complete Bootcamp Video Diary (2001)

Keyboard Cat Redux (2009)

Loudermilk (2017-2020)

Highly Recommended

Swingers (1996) – Goofy.

A Rumor of Angels (2000) – Beautiful movie, and this role led him to get Nix.

Holly (2006)

Music Within (2007)

Defying Gravity (2009) – could have been an iconic space drama.

Parkland (2013) – I love his performance in this one.

Worth Watching

The Low Life (1995) – Story of a Yale grad.

Townies (1996) -- licked by a golden retriever puppy

Campfire Tales (1997) – full back nudity.

Body Shots (1999) -- yeah, that one

Beat (2000) – Super cute nerdy gay boy.

44 Minutes: The North Hollywood Shoot-Out (2003)

Sex and the City (1998-2004) – Enough is enough: Berger is my pretty baby boy.

House (2006) – He looks so good.

Relative Strangers (2006) – Fun to watch.

Standoff (2006-2007) – Obviously.

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: From the Stories of Stephen King (2006)

Leave (2011) – A BoB cast reunion.

Drinking Buddies (2013)

Boardwalk Empire (2013-2014)

Saints & Strangers (2015)

Shangri-La Suite (2016) – Fat Elvis.

Welcome to America (2016)

Daddy Vibes

The Conjuring (2013) – Haunted dad.

Fort Bliss (2014) – Military spouse dad.

The 5th Wave (2016) – Post-apocalyptic gorgeous dad.

Lucky (2017) – Because his look here is what I imagine for Stanhope.

Tully (2018) – Gentle omega dad.

The Long Dumb Road (2018) – Violent Alpha Dad.

The Romanoffs (2018) – Reasonable dad.

A Million Little Things (2018-2023) – Why does he die right away and leave a mess behind? This show annoys me. But he's so good in it.

The Flash (2023) – The Flash’s dad.

Sitting in Bars with Cake (2023) – Adorable sad dad.

His Pretty Face >> plot

JAG (1997) – POW baby.

Timecop (1997) – A 1920s New York cop.

Two Ninas (1999)

The Practice (1999) – I think his character was bullied, but he still looked very great.

Buying the Cow (2002)

The Cooler (2003)

Little Black Book (2004)

10 Years (2011)

Love Him Even as a Villain/Tragic

Adaptation (2002)

King of the Ants (2003)

American Crude (2008)

Dinner for Schmucks (2010)

The Odd Life of Timothy Green (2012)

The Professor (2018)

Search Party (2016-2022)

Doesn’t Fit Anywhere but You Could Watch

The Time Traveler's Wife (2009)

Game Change (2012)

[baphometsss]

We need to talk about spirit hand!Inquisitor

I've been trying to put this into words for a while but it's really tricky to explain. I'm gonna try anyway bc I feel like it's an important discussion to have

First though, a disclaimer: I'm not physically disabled. Everything I'm about to say is based on me trying to relate through my own experiences of mental illness, the experiences of a disabled family member who uses a prosthetic leg, and research into how to write disabled characters properly in my own personal projects (thanks to cripplecharacters blog for helping me understand it better!) So, you know, you can take it or leave it--and please feel free to add your own experiences! This isn't a call out post or anything, I'm just trying to put my thoughts into words and start a conversation in good faith

The problem with fanworks where the inquisitor's wooden prosthetic is replaced by a magic/spirit hand is that it falls into a really tiresome trope where the character has the limb replaced with a magical prosthetic that essentially nixes the disability entirely. It's called the Cool Robot Arm or Perfect Prosthetic trope and it plays into disability erasure in a big way. This is pretty frustrating when you know having a limb amputated is a big deal that comes with a lot of pain and long-term effects, even if the amputation procedure itself was free of complications. Prosthetics are also basically a whole thing of their own, but suffice to say they also come with their risks and problems as well.

The thing with representation is that it needs to reflect real life experiences if its going to approach anything good or meaningful. Video games like Dragon Age often attempt to do this, but they also often miss the mark. I know a lot of disabled (and able-bodied) people want to see better representation of disability in media, but when that fails, we have the opportunity to do better in our fanworks. It feels like a lot DAI/DATV fanworks jump into the magical prosthetic trope far too easily and without very much thought for how it negatively impacts that representation. The Inquisitor becomes disabled through losing their left hand, and that would be a complicated journey for them. This is not a part of their character that can be written away without losing a huge part of their story--regardless of how we role-play them.

For me personally, I try to balance it out by being realistic about both the prosthetic, the spirit hand, and the remaining limb. For example, prosthetics rub and cause blisters and other skin conditions. They can be bulky and heavy and cause musculoskeletal problems. Residual limb pain is thing and can be chronic and debilitating. Learning to use a prosthetic usually requires physical therapy, and some people just prefer not to use prosthetics at all, or only some of the time or for specific tasks. Much of the discourse around prosthetics is focused on making them indistinguishable from a natural limb, when practicality and comfort should really be the focus and not this ableist idea that differently limbed people should want a prosthetic that looks identical to the one that was lost. There are so many potential stories that can be written about this experience, yet we almost never see any of them. My mage Inquisitor has a spirit hand, but she doesn't use it much because it's difficult to maintain both that and use offensive magic in battle, and she doesn't have the mental energy to use it 100% of the time. It's also not that easy to use, even when she does have the energy. She only really uses it occasionally anyway (usually to make random shapes with it to amuse other people) and prefers her prosthetic.

To put it another way--consider how deaf/HoH people who get cochlear implants often continue to use sign language afterwards anyway, even if the procedure was successful. This is because a. it's their first language, which means verbal language is a new language to them and b. gaining hearing after a long period without it can be extremely difficult to adjust to. It can be overwhelming and even painful. The point is that just because aids and treatments exist, it doesn't mean that they're a one size fits all and each individual person will have their own journey in figuring it out. That's one of the things we should be writing about, rather than just nixing it away with a magic limb because it's the easier route and it doesn't require us to consider writing outside of our own experiences. And don't get me wrong, I get that it's scary. You don't wanna upset people with your writing or make them feel even more alienated. But you have to start somewhere and be willing to listen to criticism if you're going to get better.

Furthermore: ableism for sure exists in Thedas. Can you imagine how that would affect the Inquisitor? How they'd adjust from being revered as the Herald of Andraste with a divine mark on their hand to being almost killed by it? How their political enemies would use their disability against them? How they would be affected emotionally by having to deal with that ableism potentially for the first time? Would they find community among other veterans who have become disabled through conflict? Or would they isolate themselves and carry the burden alone? Would they experience mental health issues because of it? These are all examples of how ableism affects real people. Of course, none of this is negated by the spirit hand, but it's something I've seen very little attention given in fanworks.

For me personally, I also try to think of this through my own experiences of mental illness. I have chronic depression/Dysthymia, which is not exactly the same as clinical depression. It follows similar patterns to other mood disorders like Bipolar Disorder in that it's cyclical; my baseline is being moderately depressed, and then every 2 or 3 months I will go into 'double depression' which is where I experience an intensification of symptoms that mimic going into an initial depressed state, while aggravating the symptoms I already have. It's hard to explain it, but suffice to say, it requires me to take medication to control it. I don't like it, but it's the way my brain is wired up and I've been told by multiple professionals that I will always have to take medication for it (antidepressants and antipsychotics, although I don't take the antipsychotics atm). This medication causes a variety of annoying side effects that I have to accept as a trade off so I don't regress too far.

This is just one of the mental health conditions I have to contend with, but it's one that probably effects my life the most. I know it's not comparable to amputation or other physical disabilities and I'm not trying to say it is. But I use it to understand writing for disabled characters by, in conjunction with my research, empathising, by thinking of how much it would bother me if someone wrote about my life and did everything they could to ignore this very prominent part of who I am. I would have to ask why they were so keen to ignore it. Dysthymia doesn't define me, it's not something I'm 'proud' of per se, but it does affect a big part of my life; I've struggled with it every day since I was 10 or 11--so of course it's shaped who I am. I use it to imagine how frustrating it would be if someone tried to cover up or negate this part of me and then dressed it up with something like... idk. Magical anti-depression goggles or something, or worse still decided to make my story all about the goggles. It would make me feel like I wasn't a person with experiences worth writing about, that I would be fine if it weren't for this illness I undeniably have and can't help having. That my illness is akin to a personality flaw--an ableist assumption that Dysthymia sufferers in particular have to deal with, because it's a depression that does not go away and people think it's just our personality rather than an illness.

I personally found these posts x x x really helpful in figuring out how to write my inquisitor. Tbh cripplecharacters is invaluable anyway, especially their 'magic aids' tag for writing Inky. I really strongly recommend that you read them before writing about your inquisitor's prosthetic and their perspective on losing their arm. Listening to actual disabled people when writing disabled characters is the most important part of the process and it'll only make your work better. You really have nothing to lose by doing it.

Like I said, I'm not trying to call anyone out. I have most likely missed the mark just in writing this post, because it's not my personal experience. I do think the spirit hand is a cool concept. It's just not a quick fix and writing about it needs to be done more consciously than I think most people do.

[elpurata-victim]

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[tweenlove-n-hate]

Thanks for taking the initiative and time to organise the Gelphie Big Bang! Must be a lot of work behind the scenes to orchestrate this. I can’t wait to see all the amazing artwork and fics that will surely come from this.

I wanted to ask if we would be getting an update on the Scientific Study of Destiny anytime soon? Also, out of curiosity do you have any ideas for future Gelphie fics once the fic ends?

Hello hello!

Thanks for the ask and thanks for the well wishes on the event. It has been going very well. Over the weekend the @gelphiebigbang2025 surpassed 150 sign ups for the event. Which is 3x as many people as I thought would participate! If you haven't already followed the account(s), you should! Over the next 6 months there should be some cool things posted. The more people that follow the account(s), the further the posts will go for the writers and artists when the reveals go live in October!

Now, on to The Scientific Study of Destiny -- I will have an update sometime this week. I'm not sure when though. Might be over the weekend. Last chapter caused a little rift in my plans for Chapter 11 (aka Chapter 10). That I need to fix before it can go live.

Now for my Gelphie WIPs that I haven't posted but am working on:

Soulmate fics:

Elphaba's POV from The Scientific Study of Destiny - I have this mapped out pretty well and half a chapter written for it. But I need to finish the first story before I can commit to this one.

Soulmate Potion - an idea someone mentioned in a comment in The Scientific Study of Destiny. I've already got three pages written for it.

Blinded by Your Color - Seeing color for the first time Gelphie version.

Your Name on my Skin - Gelphie soulmate marks having the name of your soulmate on your skin.

A Magical Mishaps happen series:

Gelphie Magic Baby/Pregnancy Fic - where the characters and readers won't know WHO the baby daddy is till the end.

(Love) Potion Gone Wrong --- Galinda just wants Elphaba to love her too. But it goes terribly wrong. Not to be confused with...

Lust Potion Gone Right -- think of this one like "sex pollen" / "sleep together or die"

Double Trouble -- Elphaba accidentally cast a spell meant to multiply the practice coin, but is distracted by Galinda and now there are TWO Galindas. (Galinda and Glinda)

Random Ideas:

Defying Gravity but DARK - Movie verse

After Part 2 -- Elphaba's Gift to Glinda -- Isn't just the Grimmerie but a baby - Book and Movie combination

Never ending One Short Day - Groundhog day style

Matching Making - Galinda thinks she's the BEST match maker. She's not.

Fake Dating -- NOT who you'd think would be fake dating ;-)

Kidnapping -- May nix this idea as a whole, not happy with it thus far.

As a rule, I do not post a multi-chapter fanfiction unless I am 85% of the way done with it. If I never reach that 85% done, I never post them. (I have three unfinished Yennaia fics living in my google drive along with half a dozen SuperCat fics and MirAndy fics). So, I have a LOT of ideas and I hope I'll have the time to get to them but I won't post them till I'm sure I'll finish them. Thanks so much for taking the time to send me an ask and for supporting The Scientific Study of Destiny! <3

[godzexperiment]

getting my brain cells back- vs the 'oh my muse for nix is wild flavored right now'

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Nothing Comes Close to the Golden Coast

Description: You're on the beach because it's what your little sister wanted for her bachelorette party. One day, you can manage, right? You're not expecting to stumble right into the woman who could can change your outlook on beaches that day. But with Natasha Trace, maybe you're starting to see nothing comes close to the golden coast.

Warnings: Female! Reader, Flirting, Beaches, Mild Cursing, Natasha is too flirty for words and possibly a little dangerous

A/N: Hiya lovelies! This is a fic I wrote for @bellaireland1981 's 1K Pool Party celebration. Congratulations on 1K followers Bella! It's my first time writing a long form Phoenix x Reader fic and I hope I did Nix justice. All my love to @horseshoegirl for beta-ing this fic for me and making sure I wasn't 1) using too many commas (yes I have a problem) and 2) that this fic was flirty and fun and summery enough!

Word Count: 3617

Cross-posted to AO3 here!

Cross-posted to Wattpad here!

You like going to the beach as much as any other girl. But unlike other girls, you tend to prefer quiet, calm, clear beaches to lie on. The kind of beach where you can hear the tide coming in and the seagulls wheeling in the clear summer sky. The kind of beach where the sand is clear, and you never have to fight to find a spot to lay down your towel and where you can read without a beach ball smashing into your face. Of course, finding the clear beaches you love is far from easy. It seems like the minute the calendar hits Memorial Day, everyone in the Greater San Diego area books it to the beach for the summer. You’ve even seen people taking meetings out on the beach. But to put it bluntly, you're not one of those people.

So why are you out on this congested, loud beach today? There's only one reason: your baby sister's Bachelorette party. It was an obligation you couldn’t get out of. You love your sister, but you’re less than happy to be spending time with her and her friends. When it’s just the two of you, it feels like you’re the closest pair of siblings on the planet. But when she’s with her friends, it feels like there is a colossal, ever-widening, yawning gulf between you. Everyone calls her the pretty one while you're the practical one. In the eyes of your entire extended family, it is one of the many reasons why she's getting married at 22 when you're still single at 28. To keep the peace, you’ve been pasting a smile on your face and literally grinning and bearing it for everything she’s asked of you. Because you love her and in only a week’s time you can get a bit of a break from her (or really, from her best friend).

To make matters worse, you’re the only girl in the group wearing a one-piece suit, something flattering yet mostly covered, without showing off your cleavage or too much of your ass.

“God, do you have to wear that old lady suit?” She'd scoffed when you walked out of your house that morning, a sunhat on your head and a sarong tied around your waist to complement the deep maroon one-piece you’d pulled out to wear. “Please tell me you have a bikini you can go wear instead. If you'd told me, I would have brought you one of mine!”

As if you'd have ever worn a bikini of hers. Your younger sister is thin, model thin, with a narrow waist and perfectly perky A-cups, which look fantastic in the hot pink bikini she's wearing today. She's got the physique that makes men look a little stupid. Already, there is a pack of unfairly pretty men who have gone a little cross-eyed when your sister and her friends walked by. In contrast, you're shorter and curvier, your hair dark where hers is blonde, and the ultimate introvert to her bubbly extrovert.

You aren't even her maid of honor at her wedding - that particular honor belongs to her best friend - yes, the aforementioned obnoxious Sally herself. It's not as if anyone has even noticed you're not having the time of your life in the water. After all, why would they? Who wants the babysitter hanging around you when you're trying to have fun? It's the role you've been playing since your sister was born, and you're sure you'll play it again once your sister has kids. For now, all you can do is stay secluded under your umbrella and try to read a little despite the noise. At least it is a little emptier on the beach now as the sun sinks slowly across the sky.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

The voice is male, filled with all the surety of a man who knows what he wants and has never failed to get it. Your eyes are rolling before your head rises from your book. Your sister and Sally are under the umbrella next to you, and unsurprisingly, that comment was targeted at the two of them. You're pretty sure they are two of the group who were tossing around not one but two footballs on the beach.

“Two pretty things like you look like you could use a drink.”

It's the blonde, tall with green eyes, and a shit-eating grin, who makes the offer. And to your disbelief, it looks like your sister is going to take these guys up on their offer.

“We'd love to!”

Is she thinking at all? Before you can stop yourself, you're speaking.

“Can I talk to you, Vicky?”

“The fuck do you need to talk to her for?”

Sally's growling at you, her arms crossed under her chest in a way that accentuates the cleavage already threatening to break free of her string bikini. Your cheeks flush as the two men glance between you and her, discerning gazes flip-flopping between you and her at heated words.

“You're her sister, not the fucking morality police. We're having drinks with them. Either you can join us, or you can glare disapprovingly. But don't you dare tell us what we can and cannot do.”

“You're such a fucking stick in the mud. I don’t get why the hell you came with us. Why are you always coming out with us, anyway? I mean, I’d have had a life by the time I was your age, but well, I guess you're even too boring for that.”

You're left gaping at Sally and your sister as they walk away. The words don't hurt, not really. You've been hearing a version of them for years, ever since Sally and Vicky decided they didn't like having you shadow them. Of course, they don't believe you when you say you'd rather do anything other than join them while they get up to all the bullshit they do. Once upon a time, Vicky used to defend you. Obviously, those days are long gone.

It doesn't mean you won't still watch out for your sister, though. Call it some sort of sickening nostalgia for the days when you and her were close once, chasing each other around playing unicorns in your backyard. Call it affection for the little girl who used to follow along behind you, repeating everything you said with a lisp. Call it love for your sister who you would once do anything for - would still do anything for.

Of course, you immediately realize the situation is far different than you thought it would be. Because there aren't just two incredibly hot men, but ten. Before you can blink, they're all over Vicky, Sally and their other friends. Somebody has sparked up a bonfire, and you gravitate to the hot flames despite yourself. You're a little chilled after being out in the hot sun all day. As the sun sets over the sea, one of them nestles a Bluetooth speaker into the sand and turns the music up. 

California Gurls, we're unforgettable,

Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top

Whoever made this playlist needs better taste in music. Or at least they need to pick something which you haven't heard on the radio every day of the summer in 2010. As it is, it will be stuck in your head for days.

“This song sucks, huh?”

You jump at the voice near your ear, stumbling and nearly face-planting in the sand. You have the kind of face which shows your emotions plainly, you've always been told so. Now someone has noticed, and you hope this person won’t throw you under the bus like all of Vicky’s friends. You pretend it’s just the song as you turn around with a smile pasted across your face.

“It's the worst!”

You're sure you have other things to say, but they disappear from your head like smoke when you see the woman who is talking to you. She's gorgeous, whiskey eyes flickering gold with the bonfire's flames. She's absolutely beautiful, and it feels a little like you're in an alternate universe. There's a cool breeze coming off the water, and in addition to the salt from the sea, you can smell hibiscus in the air. It has to be from her perfume, you note vacantly.

There's humor in her eyes as she stands beside you, surveying the others around the bonfire just like you are. You can see your sister in the distance, dancing with the blonde who asked if she wanted a drink. She looks like she’s well on her way to becoming completely drunk, but you don’t care. Vicky’s an adult. She made her own decisions, and she can stand by them. All of your attention is on the brunette in front of you. She holds out a bottle to you, condensation dripping over her fingers.

“I thought you could use a drink.”

“Thanks.”

The drink in question is a bottle of soda, ice cold.

“I, uhh…” She looks a little sheepish, some of her confidence draining away as you look inquiringly at her. “I wasn’t sure how else to get you to talk to me.”

“W-why wouldn’t I talk to you?” 

She grins ruefully, “Because you've been glaring at Bagman and your friends since you walked over here?”

“And, you don't look like you're having much fun.”

“Fun…” You sigh, "is a word for it. And we're not friends.”

“Younger sister?”

You laugh, “Is it that obvious?”

“You're a good sister, coming out with her and her friends like this.” 

Her innocent words touch your heart a little bit.

“I've got two just like her. They're so sure they're grown up, but they could still need somebody to watch out for them.”

You turn excitedly, “Yes! Yes. That’s it! She's getting married next week, but there's still so much she doesn’t know yet! And she and her best friend hate that I'm here. Call it her need to be seen and treated like an adult. I'm in her bridal party and she doesn’t even want to celebrate with me. Guess everybody would pick Bagman over there over me.”

“I don't hate that you're here, you know?”

You startle a little at the frank openness of this beautiful stranger's voice.

“Why not? You don't know a single thing about me.”

“I know you’re a big sister. I know you hate Katy Perry’s California Gurls, not because the song itself is horrible, but because you’ve probably heard it a million times.”

She tugs at your hand, and you follow her as she leads you away from the bonfire, the song still blaring away. You shouldn’t follow her, you know you shouldn’t. But despite yourself,you’re curious. There’s something about her you need to know more of. Away from the bonfire, the air is cool, and crisp. The beach feels swept clean the further you walk.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned this.” 

You crack open the soda and take a sip, pretending not to feel dark eyes on the side of your face.

“I didn’t plan it.” She chuckles a little, playing with your fingers. “All I wanted was to keep talking. I think I owe you a few more things I know about you, anyways.”

Your heart warms as she shrugs out of the hoodie and lays it over the sand. She sprawls down with a grace you couldn't emulate if you tried, all long, lean muscles exuding strength and power. You feel awkward in contrast, self-conscious as you try to sit on as much of the hoodie as you can without sprawling in her lap in a way that would have you mortified and her uncomfortable. But you can still feel her, warm and solid, as she retakes your hand. It’s comforting, the light touch, the calluses at her fingertips making goosebumps rise over your arms. Her perfume smells different this close, the light scent of summer hibiscus melting into roses and morning dew. It’s addicting.

“Y-you mentioned there were a couple more things you knew about me?” 

The words leave you in a whisper, tripping over each other as they drop off your tongue.

Her laugh is husky and warm, and for one moment, all you want is for her to make that wondrous sound again. But you quell that particular impulse. After all, no matter how weak you are for this woman, you barely know her. You won't be making a fool of yourself tonight.

“I think you're smart, smarter than anyone gives you credit for being. You're strong and single-minded.” She leans in conspiratorially, a smirk on her lips. “Some people would call you stubborn, but I think they're just afraid you'll leave them behind in your quest for world domination.”

“How do you know I'm gunning for world domination?” You're smiling from ear-to-ear as you ask the question.

“All the prettiest girls are. Especially the girls who bring a book to the beach for family when they'd probably rather be curled up on a window seat with a cup of tea handy.”

Your cheeks have to be crimson by now. Of all the days for an unfairly pretty woman to come up to you and flirt, she has to pick today. She’s so confident, so pretty and vivacious and all the things you never could be. In comparison, you just feel dull, like a piece of fabric bleached by the sun, until there are only the faintest hints of color left. It’s also been a really long time since anyone’s even looked twice at you.

“I-I do like reading at a window seat while it rains.” Your smile is halfway genuine now, you think. You can’t keep volunteering bits of information about yourself without getting some info from her in turn.

“What do you like doing in your spare time?”

Maybe you picked the wrong question to ask because her easy smile drops faster than you can blink. The small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes flatten out, and the dimples are so deep you’ve been wanting to kiss them since you saw them disappear as her smile does. The silence between you isn’t comfortable anymore. It’s awkward, a discordantly awkward tone spoiling the harmony of the moments before.

“I don’t have much spare time. Or hobbies.”

“I’m sorry.”

You’re babbling before the apology has left your lips, mind speeding at a hundred miles per hour at the thought you’ve somehow managed to insult the one person who’s wanted to talk to you all night. You’re standing and turning to head back to the bonfire before she hops up next to you.

“Whoa, whoa.” Her hands are hot as they make contact with your upper arms. “I’m not angry at you. I dunno if you heard what those meatheads were saying when they were posturing to your sister and her friends earlier, but I’m a Naval Aviator.”

“It doesn’t leave a lot of time for hobbies.”

“So, what do you do with your free time?” 

She’s so close you can feel the heat of her skin.

“Most of my free time is spent at the gym. It takes hard work to look this good.” 

You giggle a little as she tugs your hands until they’re flat against her toned stomach. The muscles twitch under your fingers a little, and you feel light-headed. Is she really flirting with you? You? 

“Not everyone can read books and look as good as you do.”

“What else do you do?” Your voice is weak, barely audible over the rushing waves, but she hears you anyway.

“Sleep. Try to read. Though it’s harder to concentrate when you’re surrounded by hundreds of lonely, horny men than when you’re sitting in a window seat.”

She smirks a little, leaning closer then. 

“And I definitely spend a lot of time daydreaming about a pretty bookworm in my bed to keep me warm at night.”

“O-oh.”

Your face has to be crimson by now. It feels so hot. The dark ocean seems way too alluring, if only for a cold reality check. There’s no way this gorgeous, smart, sexy woman is hitting on you. There’s no way. Maybe if you keep saying it over and over, it will be a reality instead of what your delusional mind is coming up with.

“Sadly, there hasn’t been a pretty bookworm in my bed in a while.” 

The smile on her face falls, the motes of color swirling in her hypnotic eyes, fracturing into crystals at the words. 

“None of them can take the long days away, no dates, little contact. Maybe one day I’ll find the right bookworm for me. Unless…”

Her arm has found its way around your shoulders, the warm lines of her body searing into you.

“Well, this is a silly question, but would you maybe like to grab a coffee sometime? Get to know each other better?”

You want to say yes. More than anything you want to. But you can’t bring yourself to accept her invitation, not when you have more questions than answers.

“W-why me?”

Her lips are warm even through the material of your half-damp swimsuit as she presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re different from the other girls I talk to.” 

You’re unsure how to respond, half afraid she will go on and on about how boring and dull you are. All of the others you’ve dated certainly have. They expect one of the standard sexy-librarian types when they meet you and find out you like to read. They’re always disappointed when the truth they come to see couldn’t be any further from what they imagine. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she sighs. “I swear I nearly got hit on the head with one of the footballs when I saw you walk out onto the beach and sit under your umbrella.”

“You missed it, I'm sure, but those goofballs in my squadron were laughing at me for hours.” 

There's a slight pink tinge to her cheeks as she leans back. You miss her the minute you lose her warmth.

“I um…” She runs a hand, long-fingered and pretty (why the hell are even her hands so pretty), through her hair. “I'm pretty sure that's why those two walked up to your sister and her friend.”

“They wanted me to come to the bonfire tonight?”

You're pretty sure your mouth is wide open at this point. 

“Yeah. Though I should say, I wanted an excuse to talk to the prettiest woman I've ever seen. And maybe flirt with her a little. And maybe get her to agree to go out with me.”

“How is this clever plan of yours working for you?” 

Your voice is a whisper again as you peer over your shoulder at her. 

“You don’t know my name. You don't even know if you're my type.” 

It takes every bit of courage to banter lightly with her.

“I think it's going pretty well. After all, I've got you sitting here with me instead of out there with those idiots. And I'd very much like your name.”

You smile despite yourself as you tell her your name, getting hers in turn: Natasha Trace, callsign Phoenix. Her callsign fits her fierce and confident personality.

“So what do you say about getting coffee with me sometime?”

Just before you're about to respond, you hear your name called from the bonfire. It's one of Vicky's friends calling for you and pointing at your sister. She's drunk, and you can tell she's minutes away from courting an indecent exposure charge. She's sitting on Bagman's lap and doing her best to eat his face right off. He seems like a more than willing participant. Your concerns have more to do with how her bikini is moving, how she’s only moments away from an indecent exposure charge.

“Fuck.” 

You turn to Natasha and smile. “I'm really sorry, but I have to…”

You make a vague gesture in your sister's direction.

“I understand. She needs you right now.”

You nod and begin to walk away, pulling your coverup out of your bag. But your feet don't let you move very far. What kind of person would you be if you let the best thing that's ever happened to you slip through your fingers so easily? You can't let her slip away. So you rummage in your bag for one of the notebooks you always carry with you and scrawl your phone number down on it, ripping the page away.

She looks surprised to see you again when you catapult yourself into her arms and kiss her soft lips. She tastes like the beer she was drinking earlier, and as her arms wrap around your waist, you sink into the kiss a little bit more. You feel like you never want to leave. Yet you know the longer you stay here kissing Natasha, the more time your sister has to make situations worse. Her friends may be cheering her on, but her fiancé won't be quite so magnanimous.

When you pull away, her cheeks are the same pink as earlier. Her lips are kiss-swollen, and her eyes are bright. You're sure yours are the same.

“Let's get that coffee, Natasha.”

You press the paper into her hands and hurry back up to the beach to take care of your sister. In the hilarity of pulling her away from Bagman and wrestling her into your coverup, you can feel eyes on you. They track you until you drive away.

There's a text on your phone when you get home.

Let's get that coffee tomorrow morning. Do you know Madison's Cafe? I'd very much like to kiss you again.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun

@roosterforme @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @chaoticassidy

@kmc1989

[skyrim-forever]

Sujamma Sundas

Thank you @sulphuricgrin for the tag and lovely, eerie scene <3

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @dirty-bosmer @pocket-vvardvark @changelingsandothernonsense @scholarlyhermit

[This week Sujamma has been brushing up on his literacy. It's hard being a humble Nix-Hound. Reading doesn't come naturally to him, but he's doing his best! This week Sujamma is hoping you will help him learn to read!

Post a favorite scene, favorite sentence, favorite dialogue, favorite anything from any fic you've written! If you haven't written any fic, feel free to share your ideas. If you don't have any, recommend a friend's fic!]

I've decided to share this scene from Chapter 3 of my AU fic These are no times for people like us aka my angsty AU about what if their son grew up without a father. This scene is after an argument between Theodora and her son as he's come home to find a certain mer a bit too close to his mother and Ondolemar is taking what might be the one opportunity he has.

There’s nowhere for Arthano to go, nowhere other than out into the darkness. Howling rain and wind, the waves aggressive from sound alone as the night hides them. So he doesn’t go anywhere, choosing instead to kick at the sand in a feeble attempt to take out the anger. Though the dents he makes are unsatisfying, still so much emotion in him, the young man collapses along the shoreline letting the tears fall in the comfort of the night. The rain added extra deniability if anyone were to see him. The sound of footsteps behind him, not hearing them until they are too close, proves someone is here. 

“Go away Mother, I’ve heard enough from you. You like keeping secrets so keep your thoughts a secret as well.”

“You should not speak to your mother like that.” Him. In spite of the rain, the match inside him is lit again, so is the flames spell he readies as he stands up. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are you fucking piece of shit?” 

“The object of your ire.” What? Again, confusion washes over him. “You are angry at your mother for keeping what I am a secret, you are angry that she would associate with me at all. Further, you are angry at the Thalmor for how your life specifically has been affected, in all of those I am the common denominator. Your ire is with me, not your mother. Keep it focused on me.” Feeling the fire at his fingertips, Arthano agrees. 

“You’re right, you are the problem.”

Magical ability was innate to Altmer, the only thing Arthano really appreciated about that part of him. Where others struggled with the practicals, it came naturally for him. His old mentor Voranil had taught him a lot about conjuration, even more of enchanting which had been his specialty. An old friend of his mother’s Teldryn Sero taught him destruction when the Altmer he looked to as a father revealed his true colours. That had been easy too. All manners of fire and lighting he could make; it felt powerful to do such a thing, being on the receiving end much less so. As he pulls his arm back with the intent to rid himself the problem, the other simply grabs his wrist and lightly twists. Not causing any pain but making the flames dissipate to the younger’s shock.

“What did you-”

“Have you killed anyone?” 

“No…” But you have . 

“Then I wouldn’t recommend picking it up now.” He removes his hand. “If nothing else, be better than myself in that regard.” 

“I am better than you.” 

“Of course you are, already leagues braver than I was at your age. Though I wanted to kill my father, I never put any plans into action; you, however, saw the moment and seized it. Quick thinking, smart.”

It would seem much of what his mother told him was true about the mer in front of him. 

“Your paternal grandfather was not good to his family, he lied, gambled, stole, cheated, had no morality. Your father spent his whole life trying to escape his legacy, replace it with his own.” Maybe they could share this one thing in common, aside from the obvious of their appearance, hatred of their fathers. Now, they could even share the desire to escape their legacy. But it is odd, everything about him was odd, that he commends him for trying to burn him to a crisp, the fact that wouldn’t work due to the heavy downpour doesn’t matter. An attempt on his life was just made and he was… proud of him? Was that what it was? And why does the thought of it ease the weight of the earlier revelation? 

[starfacenix]

Hi! I’m Phoenix but you can call me Nix.

I’ve been practicing polytheism and witchcraft on and off for 7~ years, since I was just barely a teenager. I’m 21 and am very much queer, nonbinary, and autistic.

My pronouns are only they/them, thanks!

You can go to @nixthepolytheist for digital offerings of mine and things of that nature! 💜

The list of deities, angels and demons I primarily worship, venerate, and work with (*) include:

1. Lucifer*

2. Asmodeus*

3. Archangel Michael*

4. Eros and Psyche

5. Ares and Aphrodite

6. Hades and Persephone

7. Amphitrite

8. Helios

9. Hermes*

(I don’t limit myself to any specific pantheon and I definitely plan on branching out more as time passes.)

I consider myself to be very open to different types of experiences, entities, and things I may encounter while I work on my craft.

Below is all my important posts that are worth checking out.

Research on minor deities.

gratitude

Communication and small bits of advice

Lord Lucifer posts

[isagrimorie]

A Look Inside the Writers Room of AGATHA ALL ALONG with Jac Schaeffer & The Writing Team - FYC

Notes:

Jac Schaeffer loved the idea of a Mare of Easttown, a prestige TV parody. Similar to WandaVision.

Episode 2 is the real pilot episode of the Agatha All Along show. Because episode 2 had so much exposition going on. The writers thought episode 2 might be a two-part episode. The writers decided against the two-parter idea. They needed the coven to be on the road by the end.

The original antagonist idea was the Debt Collector. The Debt Collector was a Witchy T-1000 that would pressure the coven forward.

The Debt Collector was originally a man until Aubrey Plaza entered the picture. The Debt Collector became Rio, and only then did Rio/Death have a romantic backstory with Agatha.

The original conception of Death's speech patterns was of someone from another age; because Death is a being out of time.

According to Schaeffer, Aubrey Plaza is such a specific actor and has a very present energy that the ancient speech patterns didn't work for Aubrey's energy.

Jac: "I know, we've, like, that is the some of the fandoms disappointment is that they didn't quite get enough of her. But I'm like, I don't know, we might have melted the platform."

Not with that attitude, you can't!

Joanna: How did the team decide what needs to stay versus what could be cut? And how did this pacing and storytelling choices? Who wants to tackle that?

Jac: I mean, I think it's me. I'm the one who cut things. We knew that Jason's episode would be substantial. Let's see. What else? I think it was a surprise that Giovanna's episode, it was a surprise that we were like, we're going to do the whole big musical number. And then we're also going to have all of this falling action in the campfire. And then it was a surprise in post, on the day, on set and, then in post that really that episode is all about that final moment between Rio and Agatha. We thought we were doing a musical number episode with a demon, and a curse, and a whole bunch of stuff. And it turned out we were just doing two ladies almost kissing. And THAT was the thing. I mean, it was on the page, but we didn't know. So that ended up being much longer than we thought.

Episode 7 started as Poseidon Adventure, Murder on the Orient Express, and Death on the Nile. And then climbing the tower.

Jac took inspiration from Memento. Gia and Cam outlined the story chronologically and color-coded certain chunks.

And now, we go to the most contentious part, Episode 5:

Laura Monti wrote a lot about Salem Seven and their backstory. They had to cut for momentum in the episode.

Monti also wrote more on Agatha being a medium, and the lore behind it. It could explain why Agatha is the spirit witch. And, why mediumship was Agatha's trial.

Also cut for pacing: a longer broom sequence. " --the length of that, like how we got into it, like what we actually were seeing."

Another reason why the scene was truncated was because they were committed to practical effects.

Other ideas nixed because they committed to more practical effects and less CGI: Vines that can move on their own. A CGI skeleton Sparky the dog.

LOL, Jac really taking to heart on spitting on the concept of 'Save the Cat'.

Megan McDonnell suggested Rio cut with her dagger through the canvas. Peter Cameron suggested the last trial as a very sparse room where nothing could grow.

Agatha would have seen Eddie before she announced herself to Billy as a ghost. She would have razzed Billy about Eddie. 

There was more on the page about Agatha giving birth to Nicky. It would have tied into episode 2's Witch Kit. But the witch kit idea was nixed. 

The reason why they showed Agatha giving birth in a natural and raw way. Jac wanted that for Wanda in WandaVision. Disney gave a note that Wanda should give birth behind the couch. So now Jac was able to scratch that itch.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Heads up seven up

Wow these certainly build up when you're not consistently drafting/making large edits, don't they!

Not to worry! Replying to everyone at once!! Because I'm unfortunately the kind of person who wants to reply to everyone who tags me no matter how late...despite most of y'all probably forgetting completely about this...

The thing is, I was setting this up when I didn't think my break for world building would be *checks calendar* yikes, a few months?! And I'm not even anywhere near done?? So after finding a stopping point, I went back to revising TSP. Thank God.

And it didn't seem fair to stop keeping track of these. So here it is: all tags I've gotten for this game since March! See below.

Thanks to *DEEP INHALE* @mk-writes-stuff here, here, and here, @morriguscrawls here, @sleepywriter00 here and here, @late-to-the-fandom here, @hallowedfury here,

@andyswritings here, @winterandwords here, and here, @talesofsorrowandofruin here, @buffythevampirelover here, @chauceryfairytales here and here,

@romances-not-tragedies here and here, @dyrewrites here and here, @aziz-reads here and here, @eccaiia here and here, @serotoninshift here,

@space-writes here, @i-can-even-burn-salad here, @willtheweaver here and here, @melpomene-grey here, @cwritesfiction here,

@awritingcaitlin here, here, and here, @gracehosborn here, @duckingwriting here and here, @theprissythumbelina here, @leahnardo-da-veggie here,

@drchenquill here, @somethingclevermahogony here and here, @elsie-writes here and here, @honeybewrites here and here, @bookish-karina here,

@evilgabe29 here, @emabatis here, @mundanemoongirl here, @mysticstarlightduck here and here, @thepeculiarbird here,

And finally... @sarandipitywrites here!

Love y'all

Rules 1: post the last seven lines you wrote/edited

Alright so I actually got two different versions of this. The original purpose of the game (cast majority), and a new one (only a few).

Rules 2: post seven facts about your world

Version One - last seven lines

Alium's Earth rotates the opposite direction, meaning the sun goes from west to east.

This is the last bit of the add-on to Robbie vs Jason:

From The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

To be fair, I don’t pay attention most of the time, and I was focused on punching Jason. “But he did this!” Jason protested, pointing at the Jason-sized dent. Ms. Loudermilk reached inside her classroom and then pulled out a bag of sports balls. “Thank you, Isana,” Ms. Bradley said. “That’s not all, miss!” Jason interjected. “He also glowed and threw me across the hall and made the lights flicker!”

Version Two - seven facts

Alium's calendar only has six days in a week.

Alium is divided into 10 Sectors.

Alii children get their powers when they are ten years old.

Alium and Ceteri were two separate universes that crashed into each other, forming trillions of portals throughout the universe.

There are 20 powers in the Alii database, though two more are found throughout the series.

It is common practice for Alii children take the surname of the parent with the higher-Level power, or how many subpowers an Alii has. If it's equal, the Alii with the greater Class, or rarity, typically passes down their surname. If both are the same, the parents will usually hyphenate.

KEEPING THE TAG OPEN

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet