#CREATE INDEX

[noisytenant]

i kind of feel like energy drinks are kind of an evil beverage

[chicago-geniza]

"When you turn [into a vampire], you become the best version of yourself: you become hairless, androgynous, bisexual--"

[megid0nt]

[gregdotorg]

Here is a bunch of stuff I looked at while trying to make sense of a harsh review of Arthur Jafa's current show at 52 Walker, which includes Large Array II (above), including links and references and past variations of the piece.

[oldmanyellsatclouds]

I started a commonplace book in I think 2020? And then didn’t actually use it much because of how poor my executive functioning has been. I’m trying to get back into it now, despite the still poor executive functioning.

I’m bringing this up now because my commonplace book is a hilariously apt example of the principle I mentioned in my table of contents artwork (can’t remember the specific wording so I’m paraphrasing myself here): why do you immediately fail after deciding the parameters for success? (Poorly paraphrased… )

The fact that it’s phrased as a question makes sense in the specific context of the artwork but sounds a bit weird out of context when treating it as a principle. The idea isn’t that I actually have an answer for why, just that it’s a notable trend where, when trying to set up a structure or rules by which to do something/live, I’ll immediate fail/break structure/abandon the rules. Like new year’s resolution diets.

Back to the perfect illustration of this principle in my commonplace. If you’re into commonplacing, you’ll know that it’s basically just a collection/reference book of quotes and information that’s interesting and important to you, specifically, but an important part of it is figuring out a system to organize that information so you’re able to refer back to the information you collect. When you’re writing things down by hand in a bound notebook like I am, it’s kind of hard to physically organize your notes unless you have multiple books or separate the book in sections (which requires you to guess at how much space each topic will require). I didn’t want to do that, so at that point index pages, table of contents, and visual organizing principles become important.

So at the very start of my commonplace book I decided my key organizing principles. I’d write quotes (the majority of the text in the book) in green, my words (comments, paraphrasing, organizational headers etc.) in purple, and underline and make key information pop with red.

I would have table of contents at the beginning, organized by category, like an index.

(eg: topic A: p. 1-10, 23-27, 45/ Topic B: p. 11-17, 28-31, 55-67 / Etc.)

Then I would have a bibliography at the end, which is just listing the articles (or other media) collected in the book in order of appearance

So what did I do, immediately after writing down these principles? I wrote the second page all in red instead of green, and I wrote (right under “in order of appearance”) the bibliographical information of the second article I included in my book.

It’s just an absolute picture perfect example of setting up parameters and immediately stomping all over them. Not on purpose mind you. Anyways…. I guess that’s one way to unconsciously fight my perfectionist tendencies. Nothing like making glaring mistakes right off the bat to make you less afraid of making mistakes going forward.

This has probably been a long and tedious read if anyone did bother to read, but I find it hilarious.

[nipchipcookies]

Vaguely remember you have toyhouse?

No toyhouse (or intention to get one).

Just posting my art here on Tumblr and my personal blog. :)

[faaun]

WARNING: The penalty for trespassing on the railway is £1000.

[noisytenant]

i got out oil pastels to make some 3dwi fanart. i'm very excited to finish this piece and share it... but i must sleep soon

[svnd14ll1ng]

years later ive circled back to using obsidian lol at least this time i have a better idea of how it works so i can actually use it. took a while to set up but im doing a test run layout for meridium since thats a bunch of uncentralized stories and characters with more intense worldbuilding rather than a straight forward novel . but also since my current files for it are an absolute mess and i havent attempted to sort through so its easier to fit in format

[jatanshahskill]

Skill Nation Reviews | Index Creation

Index Creation VBA tool to automatically create Indexes

[literaryvein-reblogs]

words for when your characters ______

Agree

accede, acceptance, accord, acknowledgment, acquiescence, align, avowal, bear, cohere, compromise, consent, contract, draft, enlist, give in/give up, go along/go along with, grant, negotiate, unanimous, yield

Deny

abjure, abuse, affront, attack, backstab, bad-mouth, belie, blacken, blemish, confront, curse, darn, defamation, defile, demur, denigrate, detract, dig, disclaim, discountenance, disgrace, disown, disparagement, downplay, explode, flout, fulminate, gainsay, gird, invective, jeer, lament, lecture, malign, minimize, mouth, needle, oppose, protest, put down, put-down, rebuff, refute, remonstrate, renunciation, run down, satirize, scold, show up, sit-in, slander, smear, snap, snub, squeal, sully, swearing, taunt, tirade, turn, underestimate, vituperation, write off, yammer

Explain

account for, admit, apprise, cite, clarify, come clean, concede, confirm, corroborate, defense, demonstrate, dilate, elucidate, enlighten, evidence, expand, explicate, gloss, illustrate, itemize, let on, palliate, plea, prove, recite, simplify, speak out/speak up, spell out, translator, warrant

Fabricate

aspersion, belie, disprove, profane

Inform

acknowledge, address, advertise, allow, allusion, apprise, bare, betrayal, blab, breathe, briefing, broadcast, chronicle, clue, come out with, confession, convey, debunk, define, detail, dictate, divulge, expose, feature, furnish, give, gossip, hint, intimate, issue, lecture, newscaster, orate, out of the closet, pass, post, proclaim, promulgate, publication, publish, release, reveal, show up, speak, spill, squeal, talk, tip, uncover, unveil, weatherperson, whisper

Instruct

bar, educate, prescribe

Persuade

advance, argument, bend, budge, carry, coerce, convince, discourage, draw, drum up, elicit, entice, forward, goad, hammer away/hammer into, induce, influence, invite, lobby, motivate, negotiation, pitch, prevail upon/prevail on, prompt, reason, spur, sway, urge, win/win over

Promise

assurance, avow, commitment, ensure, go back/go back on, oath, portend, vouch, warrant, word

Suggest

advice, advocate, ask, come up with, connote, drum into, exhort, fish for, get at, guide, imply, insinuate, moralize, move, nomination, pontificate, preach, propose, recommend, urge

Praise

accent, acclamation, accredit, adulation, apotheosis, applause, benediction, bless, champion, citation, commend, compliment, congratulations, credit, dedicate, deify, elevate, endorse, eulogize, exalt, extol, flatter, flattery, glorify, homage, laud, lionize, obsequy, plaudits, puff, salute, thanks, tribute, worship

Warn

admonish, alert, caution, caveat, defy, enjoin, exhortation, foreboding, foretell, page, remind, warning

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary. Writing Resources PDFs

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary

[sukunasweetheart]

Ever think about trueform sukuna becoming a father unintentionally, and when he sees his child for the first time, he is taken aback by how normal it is? No extra appendages, not a single deformed bone in its body. Just a normal child, cradled by its loving, doting mother. Do you ever think about how relieved he would feel? Maybe envious? Do you ever think about how it could possibly make him rethink his whole identity? A curse couldn't possibly be capable of creating a child so normal and healthy.

Do you ever think he reminisces to his own mother when he sees you? Your face glowing with pride and happiness, the way his mother's never did. Would you have loved your child if it was burdened with a curse, the same as him? With the way he's seen you kiss the right side of his face, he thinks you would.

Do you ever think about how he'd feel when his child holds onto his massive index finger with its tiny hand? To think that such a small, fragile thing contains half of his blood in it. His genes. His features. How small. How helpless...

To think that something so innocent was birthed as a result of his seed. Do you think his soul would quiver? Change its shape? Could he give his child the love it needs from him?

I think he could...

It wouldn't be perfect. But there's no such thing as a perfect parent in this world.

[bloggerspam]

Cousins, Clones and Conning the Family

Family Reunion AU, where cousins Maddie and Clark try to smuggle their clone children into the family reunion that happens every 5 years and pretend they've been there the whole time.

Spoiler alert, one of them does significantly better than the other. Mainly Kid POV, and also on AO3! Multichapter. ===

The problem with big family reunions, Danny thinks, is how utterly fucking lost Danny is all the gosh dang time.

"Well now, you're Maddie's son now ain'tcha? How old is you now?" The woman standing before him guffaws, ruffling his hair. He lets it, trying desperately to remember the speadsheet Jazz created for the family and (obviously) failing to recall this woman's name.

Agatha? Selene? Riri? No, Aunt Riri is over there—

"Yes ma'am," Danny smiles up at the unnamed aunt, accent going a little twangy like it always does at these functions, "I'll be hittin' 17 in a coupl'a months or so."

"My, my, you youngin's sure grow like weeds!" The aunt coos, gesturing to a height by her hip, "You used to be this tall last time I saw ya, betcha don't r'member me now do ya?"

It's a trap. If he says he doesn't remember, which is expected at reunions such as these that happen every 5 years or longer, she'll start going on and on about the stories she has of the family. Danny would have to stand here and demure and laugh at these cousins he doesn't really remember too well, but know enough to know that she's gotten them all mixed up.

"Pshaw," Danny doesn't react when a whisper breathes the answer into his ear, "I'd never forget a pretty lady like you, Aunt Helena!"

It works like a charm.

The second he's out of her clutches, he feels around for a cold spot. There, trailing just behind him, is Ellie. She's not invisible anymore, so he tucks her under his arm and bee-lines it towards the metaphorical kid's table.

"Thanks, Ellie. Weren't you supposed to stay with Dad?" Danny leads them around, trying to avoid any other mishaps. "Did Jazz send you?"

"She made me flashcards!" Ellie smirks up at him, ignoring his other question and pulling a corner of an index card out from the palm of her hand. She's always been better than him at manipulating the ecto in her body, for obvious reasons. Danny's not bitter about it at all.

"Damn, all I got was a presentation." Danny grumbles. Jazz and Dad somehow know every single one of their family members, which is ludicrous when even Mom doesn't know despite it being her side of the family.

He still can't really believe how big his family actually is, but he supposes that's natural. He only sees them once every couple of years, the only relative they see even on a remotely regular basis is Aunt Alicia, who has no kids and refuses (rightfully so) to remarry.

Danny's fine with that, he gets the best of both worlds after all. Cozy holiday stays with Aunt Alicia and he has places to stay all over the country if he really needs it, no questions asked.

Plus, crazy as they can be, these reunions have always felt like a big country festival for Danny.

"She likes me better." Ellie snickers, tugging him back to avoid Uncle Charlie's drunken stumbling.

"Everyone likes you better," Danny rolls his eyes, pushing Ellie's head down and ducking to avoid a stray kid's toy flying overhead, "I like you better."

As if somehow knowing Danny's being self deprecating again, Jazz shows up to smack him on the head. "I like both of you equally in special ways."

Danny makes a disgruntled noise, grumbling as he rubs his head, "Mooooom, Jazz is therapizing me again!"

Even though he was only half joking, Mom does show up specifically to laugh at him. "Honey, your father and I love all our children equally!"

"It's a secret," Dad says from behind Jazz, kids climbing all over him, "But Ellie's the favorite!"

"Jack!" Mom yells at the same time Jazz screams, "Dad!"

Ellie dissolves into giggles, making everyone but Dad helplessly laugh. It's good to see Ellie laugh, she does it a lot but it still doesn't feel like it's enough. Danny picks her up, giggling mess and all, and tosses her at Dad.

She lands, as expected, straight into the pile of children who scream and accept her easily.

"Nice." Jazz chuckles, this time patting him gently on his head in approval. Danny shrugs, dusting his hands off and heading back towards salvation: the food.

He and Jazz mingle a bit, exchanging greetings and school updates with the Aunts and Uncles they occasionally bump into, making their way slowly through and keeping an eye out for the other cousins.

Eventually, Jazz gets nabbed by Cousin Dermot just as Danny reaches the table, tossing a pig-in-a-blanket into his mouth and chewing with glee. The locals of the family usually something potluck style—and though Dad's genes are strong and the Fentons can't cook, the bulk of the Walker family definitely can.

In fact—Great Aunt Martha said she was going to bring some mini pies right?

Danny spies a pile of them in the middle of the large table and reaches for one, only to bump into the spikes of black fingerless gloves.

The gloves are, of course, attached to someone else.

It's a boy, around Danny's age, in a spiked leather jacket (matching the gloves) and white tee shirt with ripped jeans. He's got the tiniest John Lennon sunglasses and piercings everywhere—it makes Danny squint at him, with how much the sun keeps catching on everything—the spikes, the piercings, the metal arms of the sunglasses, is this dude also wearing lipgloss?

Danny's not judging, a guy can appreciate proper hydration to avoid chapped lips or even just for the aesthetic, but it doesn't help with the glare.

"Sorry, my bad." Right, okay, city slicker then. Not that Danny's much of a country boy or anything. "Did my spikes get you?"

Maybe Cousin Jenny brought a plus one? Danny eyes the guys jeans—they look tight. Was Cousin Mark into guys? Is this dude a guy or possibly a masculine girl? Ack. Stupid sun frying his brain.

"It's okay," Danny says, blinking away and tossing mini pie to the other person. "Aunt Martha's pies are worth the minor injury. You comin' in with one of the cousins?"

"Uh, yeah." Citypunk looks at Danny nervously, "I mean, I am one of the cousins." The guy bites his lips, shrugging, "Uh, one of the Kents, actually. Ma's real proud of the pies."

Danny blinks.

"…You're not Jon." Danny says, very carefully and slowly.

"…No…" Stranger Danger draws his vowels out, "I'm Conner. His, uh, older brother? Can't blame ya for being confused though!"

"…You can't." Danny agrees, because out of the two them, Danny definitely isn't to blame for the confusion.

"Yeah, lots of cousins, and all," Curiouser and Curiouser beams at Danny, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck, "Plus, I know Jon's more sociable at these things."

"Right, he really is rambunctious, that guy." Danny nods, as if that's the problem, and not the fact that Danny knows every single cousin his age. Big as his family might be, Danny's generation came out the smallest. Cousin Jenny and Cousin Mark are the only two his age.

With Ellie and Jazz each being four years younger and older than Danny, and the other cousins being well beyond those ages in gaps, there is no way this guy is a cousin.

"Don't worry," Punk'd laughs self deprecatingly, "I know he's the favorite. even if Mom won't admit it."

Danny feels a vein throb in his right temple.

He's unsure if he should slowly back away or get up in the guy's face. It's just—now that Danny thinks about it, if wedding crashing is a thing, does that mean family reunion crashing is a thing too?

What's the protocol here? Should he fight this guy for having the audacity to use Great Aunt Martha's name in vein?

Wait, no, that's Jesus.

Is Great Aunt Martha Catholic? ...Is that the one with Jesus, or was that Christianity?

Wait, Danny, you knuckle head, Uncle Clark was adopted. Conner could be adopted too! Even though he looks exactly like that Uncle Clark when he was younger…

"Is this your first time at a reunion?" Danny ventures, "We only have 'em—"

"Every 5 years, yeah." Conner huffs, "Nah, I just used to hide with Ma in the kitchens."

Okay, clearly Great Aunt Martha isn't in on this, because Danny used to hide with Great Aunt Martha in the kitchens. Danny's about to lose his shit on this guy—or maybe sic Ellie on him. Whichever is worse.

"Oh yeah? That's must have been cozy." Danny grits out, taking a deep breath so his eyes don't flash.

"Yeah, it was!" Conner beams shyly. though all Danny sees is a smug smirk. "She's real nice-like, I'm sure you know. Real lucky to have her for a Grandma."

"Real lucky." Danny agrees, because Great Aunt Martha really was one of the better Great Aunts. Though most of the Walker Kin were hardy and tough, in that badass kind of way. Mom really liked Great Aunt Martha's lessons on bull wranglin' back when they were younger. "Speakin' of, she ain't here?"

"Nah," Conner makes a sad little pout. "She hadta stop by Auntie Agatha's for an emergency. She left two days ago, so she's runnin' a little behind. Cl—Dad went to go pick her up."

Danny squints at the possible imposter. That sounded like he was going to call Uncle Clark by his name, which makes things confusing for Danny. Guy will call Aunt Lois Mom but he won't call Uncle Clark Dad easily?  Maybe he's a kid Aunt Lois had before marrying Uncle Clark? But Aunt Lois would never hide a kid, and Great Aunt Martha would never let her treat a kid like that. That's not even taking into account that this kid looks way too much like Uncle Clark for it to be a fucking coincidence. Plus, Danny knew about Aunt Aggie's emergency and how she might not be making it to this year's reunion—this gives Conner's story credibility.

But Danny knows that the best way to lie is with truths, even if the truths are confusing.

So what the hell is going on? Is Clockwork fucking with him? Did an alternate timeline get switched with his?

It wouldn't be the first time, but Clockwork at least had the decency to let him know at least.

"What the—" Danny blinks, as Conner picks up a very familiar, eye-searingly green colored post it note that was stuck to the plate under a mini pie. "Is this yours?"

"Yeah," Danny huffs. taking the note and rolling his eyes as lies roll off his tongue, "Sorry, y'know how it goes with Jazz."

"Oh, yeah." And Danny has to give it Conner, he at least rolls with the punches real quick, "I heard about it but didn't ever uh, see it in action."

"Really?" Danny feigns surprise, head pulsing in irritation at the words all is as it should be written in purple pen. There's no mocking smiley face, but Danny feels it in the ink anyway. "Thought she got all the cousins at the last reunion."

Conner chuckles nervously, "Oh, yeah—Guess I'm just, easy to miss you know?"

"Uh huh…" Danny eyes the guy and his piercings and very distinct style, from the tip of his clearly styled hair and needlessly ostentatious big black studded boots. "…Right."

Conner laughs, wincing. "These're new. High school debut."

"…You're a freshman?" Danny tilts his head, squinting.

"Junior." Conner automatically corrects, before stiffening. "…I just wanted to reinvent myself for Junior Prom."

"Right." Danny repeats, drawing out the vowels and finally giving up. He can tell Conner already knows what Danny is going to ask, and is trying to exit this conversation post-haste.

Fortunately for Conner and unfortunately for Danny, Jazz comes barreling in, almost knocking the former out in the process as she grips the latter's biceps tightly with her eyes wide and nervous.

Unfortunately for Conner and fortunately for Danny, though the look in Jazz's eyes thoroughly distracts the latter and gives the former a window to escape, Jazz's hissed out words end up keeping Conner rooted to the floor.

"Baby Jon has powers!" Jazz hisses as she moves Danny away from the possible imposter a couple feet. Even though she says it low enough for only Danny to hear, Conner's wide eyes as he whips his gaze towards them suggests that Jon's not the only one with powers.

And then words actually register along with that thought.

Danny hisses out the first thing he thinks of. "Since when?? I thought he took after Aunt Lois!"

"Since now," Jazz gruffs, switching her grip to drag Danny away, "and I need you to do something about it!"

"What?" Danny doesn't struggle, going along even as he eyes Conner who seems to be following them at a distance. "Why?"

Jazz pushes him towards the kid's area, rushing out a frantic "He's in the bounce house with Ellie!"

Danny freezes, or tries to even as Jazz keeps tugging him along, before shaking off her hand and booking it towards the bounce house.

Once the bounce house (a castle) comes into view, Danny clocks several things in succession:

One: Ellie and Jon are thankfully the only ones in the bounce house right now.

Two: Ellie and Jon are laughing, and through the mesh Danny can see Ellie watching Jon jump way too high to be considered normal.

And three: The bounce house is about to fucking tip over.

There's a gaggle of Aunts herding the younger cousins towards the food that's dense enough for cover, but sparse enough for Danny to dash through.

Between one blink and the next, he disappears.

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

.

[melangedeparfums]

KEEP YOUR HANDS ON ME

husband!nanami x wife!reader

masterlist

tw: suggestive, not proofread, nanami can’t keep his hands off, petnames (“my love”, “my wife”)

nanami was good with his hands.

calloused hands trained by years of practice, manipulating weapons, combining agility and strength. his hands could destroy, wreck, bring everything to ruin - but for you, they create, soften, take care.

the roughness of his hands would meet the softness of your skin, the relief of his fingers on your thin skin - making him hum appreciatively, the slowness of his movements overwhelming you.

his hands were also large, much larger than yours, twice your size in fact, wrapping around every part of your flesh with utter care and patience because, yes, nanami was a man of patience, and he intended to make every bit last.

“see how my hands are made for you? see how you fit perfectly, hmm?” his deep voice made his chest grumble, arising goosebumps on your skin, his sharp look reflecting his focused mind.

nanami learnt to be delicate with his fists, his knuckles grazing over the swell of your breasts, his pants already tight. but Nanami was a man of control, and calm, and he would take his sweet time with you.

nanami knew what to do with his hands. always. when to came to you, it was natural. instinctive. his powerful hands could manhandle you, pin you down, and make you bend for him - his eyes captivated by the magnificent arch of your back against the mattress.

precise.

this man was a man of precision. aiming perfectly at his target. one look, and he didn’t have to think - his fingers moving for him, as he would take sight of you, spread for him. he knew where to touch, caress, pinch. alternating between his index and his thumb. gripping with both hands. slapping. the cold metal of his wedding ring shining through the light, trailing along your spine with finesse, his lips following the same path he created before.

“you are truly breathtaking, my love.”

my love.

you thought your heart would explode, your head dizzy and your vision blurred. something utterly tender in his honeyed tone made your core ache with pain, as his hands memorised the map of your body in the marble of his mind, his fingers foxtrotted on your epidermis gracefully to brand every scar, mole, stretch mark, freckle, birthmark into the furrows of his soul.

like a sculptor modelling the clay with an utter precision, kneading the dough between his fingers, awe shining in his hazel irises in front of the muse that made his heart pound deliciously into his ribcage.

veiny forearms that wrapped around your waist, making you switch positions, his digits pressing into the plumpness of your thighs to make it collide with his pelvis, eliciting a weak whimper from you, and a soft chuckle from him.

an work of art, you were his work of art. and Nanami was the artist, holding moonlight in his two hands all night long.

“my wife.”

──── ୨୧ ────

thank you so much for all the likes and the reposts!! 🫶🏻

[noisytenant]

I'm not able to track down any new images at this time (I'm on mobile) but I wanted to let you know that Jhnnyboy/Dr. Wallace is STILL trying to change the Thoracotomy wikipedia page images to his hand-drawn ones as recently as June 4th: