#I am a great writer

[another-whump-sideblog]

Masterlist

Significant neurological damage, likely due to repeated concussions, predominately impacting balance and grip strength

Deficiencies in vitamin A, vitamin B1, vitamin B2, vitamin B3, vitamin B5, vitamin B6, vitamin B12, Vitamin D, calcium, chloride, iron, and potassium

Severe deficiencies in iron and vitamin D

Psychological symptoms of PTSD, anxiety, and obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Further testing recommended.

Ema hates this.

She was supposed to feel better once she got away. That was supposed to fix it. Getting away was so so hard, and it's not even over?

Ema hates this.

"It's not so bad." Tom says. "It could be worse."

That's not very helpful. "Neurological damage doesn't go away. I'm going to have this for the rest of my life."

"Well... yeah, but now we know. I should've noticed earlier, it was obvious. I can't believe I didn't notice..."

Tom sounds annoyed. Ema tucks her knees under her chin.

"It'll get better. I think it would help to do some physical therapy. And psychological therapy. And the vitamin and mineral deficiencies, that's easy! I mean it sucks that we didn't know before, but we know now. Oh, we should also take you to a dentist. What's wrong?"

Ema is ineffectively trying to blink back tears. "I thought I was going to be okay. I thought it was over." "But this is good! These things were wrong before, but now that we know about them we can fix them or make them better. Wouldn't it be worse if all those symptoms of deficiencies and damage and stuff were just how things were going to be for the rest of your life?"

Ema hates this. "I don't- I can't-" She takes a shuddering breath, afraid she'll start crying if she tries to talk more.

"It's okay. You're okay. I really think you should see a therapist though. I... don't know what to say to help you feel better."

Ema grips her hair tightly. She hates this, she hates this so much. "I don't want to go to therapy! I don't want to talk about it! I want it to be over!"

"I- I don't know- Ema, it's okay."

Ema is sobbing in earnest and Tom is getting annoyed with her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You didn't do anything wrong. I just- I'm not good at this!"

He's mad at her he's mad at her-

"I- I think I'm making this worse, so I'm going to- to go. And then when you're feeling better we can talk about how I can, like, help you the next time you feel this way, okay?"

Tom waits for her to answer, but leaves when she doesn't, and Ema doesn't stop him. He's just in the other room, but it does help Ema feel better, which makes her feel a bit guilty. It's just easier when she can focus on calming herself down instead of trying to calm Tom down.

She feels so pathetic. She's been crying more since she escaped than she ever did in captivity.

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

She's safe. She's okay. And Tom is right, now she knows some ways to feel better. She shouldn't feel this way.

When Ema's crying has slowed to only an occasional sniffle, Tom comes back.

"Are you okay? Are you- did that help? It seems like it helped, for me to leave, but I felt really bad for just... leaving you, while you were upset."

"It helped. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Tom doesn't sound annoyed. Just... sad.

"I... don't think there's anything you can do, if that happens again. I don't know why I started crying. Everything you said was right."

"Well, someone can be right and still be a dick."

"You weren't being a dick."

Tom is quiet for a moment. "You started crying when I brought up therapy. Should I... not bring that up?"

"No, you can bring it up. I don't know why it freaked me out."

"You said you don't want to talk about what happened. Does the idea of therapy make you feel stressed? You don't have to talk about the past at all with a therapist if you don't want to. I mean, you probably will eventually, but not until you feel comfortable with it. A good therapist will respect your wishes." Tap tap tap. "I don't know. I guess. I just want it to be over. I want to never think about it again."

"I... don't think that's possible."

Ema buries her face in her hands and sobs.

"Would it help if I touched you? Like, gave you a hug or something. Or would you rather not be touched?"

"Please don't touch me."

"Okay. So I know some things that don't help now, at least. Um... so, do you want to try therapy? Helping people find therapists is something I'm good at. You wouldn't have to talk about anything you didn't want to. And hey, I'm not a therapist, maybe I'm wrong that you'll have to think about it. Maybe a therapist can teach you how to not think about it. I don't know."

"I think... I've been emotional because of the deficiencies. I want to try getting more of those vitamins and stuff in, and maybe try physical therapy, and then see how I feel."

"I think you're going to need therapy no matter what. You've been through a lot."

Ema starts to tear up again.

"But... it can wait. I don't like to put these things off, but... this isn't about me. I don't know a lot about therapy, but I know that it doesn't work very well if you feel forced into it."

"...Thank you."

"Do you want help making a meal plan? To get the vitamins you need in? And I can look into what supplements you should be taking, that stuff's all unregulated so I don't think you just grab the first thing that says vitamin supplement, y'know?"

That... sounds nice. Not having to do it herself sounds nice. "I would like that."

[thevulturesquadron]

small details in X-Men '97 that rip my heart and serve it on a plate:

this gesture here - Magneto being the one in the party to acknowledge Morph's trauma and what a big ask it is to revisit their past. He knows. He's been there before. And wants Morph to know he's not alone.

[szynkaaa]

Zhu Bajie: do you exercise Travel Companion: I like to run away from my problems and feelings

The dialogue is based off a scene from Doctor Who. I don't think that my OC would be going with Zhu Bajie and the Destined One into the rock for the final battle (probably cause she is not able to enter) so she has to sit outside and wait anxiously for them to return.

She is happy to see them return but then also immediately notices how the Destined One's whole demeanour and aura changed. She knew that this point was going to happen where he inherits everything and becomes the new Monkey King, but I also think that she has a hard time wrapping her head around the concept of reincarnation and struggles with accepting it.

So yeah, I imagine the moment after new Sun Wukong comes out of the rock, it's an angsty moment. He just wants to see his best friend and tell her what happened, and now that he is finally "whole" again be able to propely have conversations with her and ask her about all the weird things she says and does, but instead she looks at him like she is very unsure of everything.

Sun Wukong doesn't really have the temper imo or at least here things get a bit heated and he snaps and well, she does what she is best at in situations like this: fucking book it :)))))

Obviously SWK wants to chase after her but Zhu Bajie helds him back and says "ayo kiddo give the lassie some time to process everything, she will come around" he doesn't want to but he knows that is what she needs atm.

Where is Travel Companion hiding meanwhile? In the Zodiac village, the Yin Tiger offered her a spare bedroom, and in exchange she helps around, with the crops, bringing materials back and forth and also has some good times drinking and sharing stories with the villager. Maybe also crying about her woes, and I think that the villager sharing their stories about SWK and explain more about his backstory and stuff helps the her to come around more.

also SWK knows she is there and comes by every day to get his harvest and the free medicing from your local meth dealer Xu Dog. She is hiding in Yin Tiger's lil blacksmith hut everytime he is visiting, but she knows that he knows that she knows that he is there.

And then one day when he is visting Yin Tiger, SWK sighs and goes all "hey bud can you pass this message to Travel Companion," and inserts some very sweet and sappy stuff, knowing that she is there and can hear him. Just as he is about to leave she decides to come out of her hiding spot and go "Hey... let's go talk somewhere more private".

SWK is not showing any emotions but you can tell by the flicker of his tail that he is relieved to see her. Bit worried about the dark eye circle and how not well-rested she looks like, but he will make sure to fix that soon.

[angelpregdreams]

"Darlin'."

content: fpreg, vaguely-mentioned pregnancy sex, labor, fpreg birth, 1st person pov a hint of cowboy flavoring, a la croix of the wild west

wc: 2800+

tip jar

“Sloan!” 

A voice called out my name behind me, and I released a sigh as they continued to yell, even as they came closer, “c’mon, woman, just be honest with me!” 

My feet paused their stomping, and I turned in the direction I knew him to be coming from.

“There’s nothing to be honest about!” I shouted back, an annoyed huff leaving me as I crossed my arms over my chest. The action made my nipples sting at the friction and I angrily dropped my arms down. I gave Sterling a glare as he came into view, which he calmly raised his hands up in surrender in response. 

“Fuck, nothing to be honest about?” Sterling muttered, his dark brows raised incredulously. “Are you serious?” 

Shaking my head, I felt tears pool in my eyes at his raised voice, I hated when he spoke down to me. His fucking accent made him sound even more condescending, which only served to infuriate me more. I grumbled unhappily, angry at myself for the tears and for him being annoying, “just leave me alone! You’ve been badgering me for the last five miles, Sterling, it’s getting old.”

He gave me a hard stare, slowly lowering his arms as his eyes flicked over my face - catching my tears. Sterling sighed and beckoned me closer to him. 

“C’mere darling,” his voice was softer now, more like his normal tone with me, it made me choke on a sob, “I know. That’s it, I know about…”

He trailed off and I tensed, my own eyes flicking over his form as I felt my chest heave with a gasp, trying to catch the breath that just left me. My suspicions confirmed with his own speculation. I had to be pregnant, there was no explaining my recent changes other than pregnancy. 

Sterling continued, coming closer to me and finally slipping an arm around my waist, “the baby, Sloan. It’s not exactly something we can ignore…and you know that.” 

I did. Doing our job while I'm pregnant would not be safe, for me or for our little one. More tears fell over my cheeks as I buried my head against his broad chest, crying softly. I didn’t want my life to change but I knew what I had to do. 

He was supportive, as we traveled back home and we made the decision for me to remain on our homestead. His support never waned even when I got angry and sobbed for hours about him having to leave me like this. We would need to continue our work, regardless of my pregnancy, and bounty hunting wasn’t exactly safe for me now.

Once we returned to our homestead, Sterling took our horses to our barn, telling me to go inside, and tend to the house. The bed needed dressing and the fire started. I bit my tongue to keep a retort about sending me inside like a housewife, my eyes rolling nearly out of my head as I stomped towards our small home. He joined me once I finished the bed and began my work on the fire. His quiet footsteps came up behind me, and I gasped when he placed a hand on my back. With the tension between us on the ride here, I wasn’t expecting his touch. 

It was still comforting.

“Sloan…” Sterling started, and I sighed as he continued, “darling-”

I cut him off by turning and planting my lips on his, shutting him up and finding comfort at the same time. We spent the night together in our bed, warmed by a fire, eating our meager food that we had kept while we were away. 

He stayed only for a week, and soon, I was alone. For the foreseeable future, I would be alone and my heart began to feel heavy, soon after Sterling left. Going about my household chores and work on the homestead was easy enough, but I still hated how quiet it was here by myself. My horse was my only company and I spent as much time as I could with her, even taking long detours as we went to and from the only town nearby. Which was its own issue, when I entered the town for the first time. 

Those that knew me by my work with Sterling were kind, but still standoffish, disliking me on the principle. I had gotten used to being looked down upon for my line of work, but it still stung. Maybe it was the change of my brain with a baby growing in my belly, my mother mentioned she forgot nearly everything in her early months and cried every time she did. 

I kept my tears to myself, feeling the sting of loneliness, until I was with my mare, Willow, and we were far, far away from civilization. Sterling and I had no friends here, even after our work for the local sheriff. He was likely to be the kindest to either of us, but I didn’t wish to strain that relationship by overstaying my welcome in town. 

Riding with Willow became harder as I got sicker, then I began to gain a sizable swell around my middle and it inhibited me from even getting in the saddle without some difficulty. The months passed with little excitement. 

I hated it. 

Sterling did make a stop here or there, when his travel brought him close to home every month, give or take a week or two, and showered me with affection and gifts. His hands traveled my new body, mumbling his amazement at the changes every time, and telling me how absolutely divine I was. It was adorable and helped my self-image. I felt heavy and slower than normal. Mentally and physically, I felt slower, the baby taking more and more of myself with every passing day. Sterling didn’t seem to care though, when he was home he waited on me hand and foot. ‘Making up for lost time,’ was what he told me. I would relent and let him, enjoying the attention and his fussing. His tender touch on my swollen belly made my heart flutter for him as it had on our wedding day. 

He was due to leave again tomorrow morning, but for now, he clung to my body as if I would fade away if not held down by him. We laid in bed and listened to the rain hit the metal roof above us. The fire was dim, but not dying, so we lingered comfortably together, dozing in and out of sleep. 

Sterling’s hand strayed over my hip and I smiled, keeping my eyes closed. His touch was intoxicating, and I pressed into his grip, catching his breathy chuckle before his lips pressed against my skin just under my belly button. 

“Perfection,” he mumbled, utterly transfixed. Sterling continued to pepper my belly with kisses, taking a pause only to finish his thought, “perfect and mine.”

My husband devoured me then, his lips and tongue delving between my legs and into my slick heat. His facial hair tickled my thighs and I sighed happily as he showed his devotion, fully lost to every sensation he gave me. Tomorrow Sterling would ride off again, but for now, he was nestled between my legs, one hand on my thigh and the other over where our little one rested in my belly. 

The night passed by too fast. He said his goodbyes, lingering for longer than he should have, not letting me out of his grip until he finally had to leave. He rode off on his own mare, and I stared after them for a time. The baby in me shifted and pressed against my bladder, making me grunt and rub my hand over my belly. 

“Don’t act up because your father’s gone.” I mumbled, returning to bed for a bit more rest. 

Sterling didn’t return the next month. As I continued to grow, crawling closer to my time, worry made me ill - more than once. It wasn’t out of the question for him to be sidetracked or taking more time to travel, but the worry still made me return to the comfort of our bed throughout the day often. 

A lot of the chores fell into disarray, my only constant was making sure Willow was fed and watered. My massive middle made moving difficult, doing anything that wasn’t necessary was asking too much of myself. At one point, I began to wear only my thin cotton nightgown, even while outside, not caring to get dressed if there was nobody around. It also made coming and going from bed easier. 

It was late in the evening when I felt the first contractions. I was waiting for Sterling in the rocking chair he had bought when we moved here when I felt it. My hands rubbed over my middle, taking a deep breath as I realized I was effectively alone for the foreseeable future. Meaning I would have to deliver on my own. 

My throat felt tight, and I struggled to relax my muscles as a few moments passed and the pain disappeared. Tears pooled in my eyes and I cried as my labor started. 

I tried to climb into bed and rest, trying to mentally prepare myself for this. I also couldn’t help but pray for Sterling to return, so I wasn’t alone, but I knew it would prove fruitless. The cross that hung from my neck offered little comfort as I clutched it, breathing in as a pain wrapped its way around my belly. A grunt left me as I rolled over onto my hands and knees, this pain lasting longer than the last few.

“Nughhh.” I moaned, trying to rock myself through the painful gripping of my womb. A weight had slowly begun to move down with this pain and I felt my hips ache as they adjusted for the head of my baby slid down. 

Arching my back, my huge belly rubbing against the bedding as I continued to moan through the pain, rocking and moaning. In the back of my mind, I had some shame acting like this, moving like this, it felt brazen. That thought was pushed away as the pain seemed to peak and I cried out loudly, the weight of a boulder pressing against my pelvis. 

Faintly, I became aware of the patter of rain on our roof, a storm settling in overhead as my labor progressed. 

A split second after I caught the sound of the rain, I felt a huge shift in pressure, my womanhood aching from the inside. I swore in pain, rocking again, as the pressure continued to build. Tears burned my eyes, and I felt my hips strain. There was no relief from the pressure, even as I moved back and forth. The child in me moved and made me gasp, stilling my movements. 

The pain and pressure made my mind hazy, but I was aware of my body rejecting this position, I had to move. 

Slowly, and pausing for several long moments every time I had a pain, I was able to scoot off the edge of the bed, dropping into a deep squat. Fully leaning against the side of the bed as I reached down and tugged my nightgown up and off of my sweating body. I felt hot, everything felt too warm. My womanhood most of all. 

I cried out with another contraction, the squat making the pressure ease some, but the pain remained constant. My vagina hurt, it burned, it felt like the boulder between my legs was stretching my hole apart as slowly as it possibly could. 

The rain outside picked up, the sound of thunder greeting my ears as I dropped my head onto the soft bedding with a cry. The pressure returned and unable to release it, I simply bore down with everything I had in a big push. I screamed loudly in pain. 

A soft sound accompanied the sudden release of pressure, then settling into a deeper ache between my folds. The release of pressure was then followed by the sound of a gush of fluid hitting the wooden floor, and instantly, I knew what happened. 

Unable to help myself, I let out a breathless laugh, the noise turning into a moan as a contraction grew around my tight belly. My hips burned, my pussy starting to bulge and I felt every inch of the child slip closer to entering the world. I cried out, sobbing as the burn in my womanhood spread to my folds. The weight of the child was just as painful, but I was suddenly grateful I moved when I did. There was no way I could even think of moving from this position now.

I pushed again, my body trembling as I strained to urge my child from me. My pussy felt too warm, like someone had held a candle to it, and I couldn’t help the fat tears that rolled over my cheeks and onto the bedding. With a tight grip, I wrapped my hands in the blankets, my knuckles quickly turning white as I pushed once again. 

“Sloan!”

My breath caught in my throat, moan cut midway, as my heart thudded painfully in my ears. That was… “Sterling…” I breathed, my throat sore, but my body quickly reminded me that our child sat at my entrance. I groaned again, barely able to choke out, “...baby…coming…”

“Sloan!” 

I heard him again, but I couldn’t respond again, my body urging me to push. I felt the spread of my folds, the head bulging me outwards painfully. 

The door slammed open, the sound of thunder accompanying the noise, and I heard Sterling’s boots on the floor. 

His hands were on my shoulders, free of his gloves, and rubbed gently. He whispered, “I’m here, dearest, I’m here.” 

I sobbed again, unsure if it was from his sudden support, or from the pain, but it mattered little. I pulled my head up from the bed, groaning as I pushed with a new contraction. The head spread me apart, my folds pulled tight around it as it slowly emerged. 

Behind me, Sterling cooed at me softly and rubbed my shoulders and hips, trying to ground me as I fought with my body with each push. I caught the sound of him shifting several times, his spurs jingling with the slightest bit of movement. It was distracting, if only for a few seconds. 

The head continued to crown, very slowly, as I pushed several more times. I tossed my head back and groaned, the head holding me spread apart as I felt the child wiggle in the birth canal. Gasping, I lifted my head, and grabbed a new fistful of bedding.

“The baby…! Catch…the baby…!” I warned Sterling, feeling the sudden, painful urge to push again. I gritted my teeth and bore down, my squat deepening as far as it could go. I felt Sterling’s hands leave my hips and he obeyed my request as I felt one of his hands brush against my swollen and bulging pussy. He gasped, feeling the head at its widest point in me as I pushed as hard as I could. 

The head slipped out, making me release the push with a gasp. More dribbling of fluid hit the floor and then I heard Sterling’s sharp intake of breath. I felt his fingers prod around my opening, making me pant, but he pressed a kiss to my shoulder, silently telling me to continue.

With the next contraction I pushed, it was only for a split second before I felt the babe wiggle in me again. I screamed loudly, continuing to push as the pain seemed to linger for far longer than before. The baby lurched downward, falling into Sterling’s hands as I continued to push, the rest of the baby falling out of me with a spill of fluid. 

I dropped my head down onto the bed and released the sheets, shakily falling to my knees as Sterling brought the baby to and around to my chest. I lifted myself up and pulled the child close to my chest, weeping when I saw my baby, her own cries sharp and strong. She was perfect.

“We have a girl,” Sterling whispered to me softly, his voice turned watery. “A baby girl.”

I wiped her face, her cries continuing as I felt more tears spill over my cheeks. “Oh, she’s everything.” I said, softly. She was everything. 

Sterling kissed the top of my head, pressing his lips close to my ear and whispering - just for me, “you did amazing, Sloan.”

I leaned against him, wrapping our girl in a blanket and bringing her back as close as possible to me. I couldn’t ask for anything else - my life now felt complete, wrapped in Sterling’s embrace and holding our newborn daughter.

[that-butch-archivist]

source: The Little Butch Book by Lesléa Newman

[muffinlance]

Opening my old story notes and finding "The Crossroads of Fuck You" as a plot arc is DELIGHTFUL, let me tell you

Anyway outlining for the next Dark Night in Ba Sing Se is going, I've fleshed out a rough outline for the entire series

Except for the part I'm actually supposed to be writing

why brain why

[oh-snapperss]

hello everybody!! i'm very excited to share the first chapter of a Ren/Etho fic myself and @hitheeprithee have decided to cowrite!

Summary: Five times Ren wants to love his loyal knight, Etho, and be less than a king, and the one time he gets to.

----

or, Ren is the king, Etho his second in command. It's part of Etho's duty to remove the king's armor after battle--but sometimes, it's the other way around.

Chapters: 1/6

Warnings: None!

Words: 4008

enjoy!!

[martyrbat]

if you could have a limited comic run (batgirl 2000-esque) for ANY minor character, who would you choose?

[okifyouinsist]

i think in this trying time what would really heal us (me) is some olympic loscar aus with a DISGUSTING amount of smut in it (anti sex beds have nothing on these 2) but unfortunately i have been cursed with the ability to not be able to form simple sentences a lot of the time, let alone a whole fan fic

also unrelated but like hear me out (if no one's already like thought of this)- semi angsty loscar winners room au fic where they both promised that when they would win their first f1 race they'd like choose each other but when oscar wins in hungary logan is like heartbroken to hear that oscar asked for lando so he just sends like a little congrats message and just ignores all oscar's other one where he wants to explain smth abt how mclaren like told him to pick lando as like a pr move to show they're still cool and they didn't even do anything but instead logan turns his phone off and goes to club and runs into oscar and he explains and then they kiss with tongue and have their own celebration in their hotel room, yay happy ending!

can you guys tell i miss reading smutty loscar fics for the first time someone pls be insane with me

[victoryrifle]

FALLOUT: Season 1 Episode 4 “The Ghouls”

[foundfamilynonsense]

Y’know. Anakin was a real asshole in Ahsoka’s hallucination.

Like. She mentions something about what she’ll be able to teach her padawan one day, since all she’s being taught is how to be a soldier, and Anakin’s like “teaching’s not all it’s cracked up to be”

And like. Asshole move. And Ahsoka rightfully calls him out on it. And he goes on the whole “uuuh I was joking. Lighten up.” Literally a complete jackass.

But beyond how he answered the question, it’s a valid complaint Ahsoka is bringing up! Anakin’s teaching her how to live or die. But Ahsoka wants to be taught how to be a jedi.

What happens after the war is over (order 66 never happens) and she now has to navigate a galaxy without a war? The Jedi take teaching very seriously there’s no greater honor than teaching a padawan. And she’s not being accurately taught, so she will not be able to pass anything on to the next generation.

But Anakin brushes it aside because he simply does not respect her or her wishes. Like. He never wanted a padawan, despite teaching being foundational to the Jedi. And he only took ahsoka in because he started to like her and became attached to her. He doesn’t care about jedi legacy, not really. So he brushes her comment off with a joke.

But in the rest of the vision… idk it didn’t feel like we were supposed view Anakin as entirely wrong here. He wasn’t in the right, he was definitely channeling Vader and being an ass, but he was basically the reason Ahsoka survived the fall, right? Bc he was making her choose life? When Ahsoka wins against him it’s sort of like she’s both learned his lesson and moved beyond him. And then for the rest of the season he’s only talked about in positive ways.

And like. That one line ahsoka said was really powerful in relation to the entire point of the show. What does she have to pass onto her own padawan (Sabine) if she wasn’t properly trained herself? That is, perhaps, the only valid plot question asked in the entire show. And it doesn’t get an answer. It’s never even brought up again.

[mymarifae]

sooooooo when i jokingly said to myself "haha did ruan mei play aeonic necromancy on tingyun's remains or something" i wasn't expecting that to literally be the case what the fuck

[xenascribbles]

i am a good writer i am a good writer i am a good writer i am a good writer i am a good writer i am a good writer i am a good writer i am a good writer i am a good writer

[angelsdean]

lol I mean, first of all I take anything some random person says abt the pre-covid finale with a grain of salt. Second of all, any heaven endgame is still shitty imo, it's sending the message that queer characters can only be happy in death which uhhh sucks. Third of all, any resolution where dean “suddenly” realizes his sexuality just does not jive with me bc that man has been flirting and sleeping with dudes and comfortably bisexual for decades. But anyways.

[juniper-clan]

Do you have any tips or recommendations for someone who wants to make their own comic based on their ClanGen save?

Hi! I answered this about a month ago when I was early on in JuniperClan. I'll cover stuff I didn't cover there, or that I've learned from experience.

Now your mileage may vary on this, but

Play the Whole Story Through

What I mean is, if your clan is going to have a story for 100 moons, play those 100 moons and take an agonizing amount of screenshots.

Not only do you know the ending, but you can hint to the ending or future events early on. You can also play around with your pacing -- If you think a character should come in a few moons early to participate in an event that would shape their character, you will have ample room to figure out how to do that without mucking up the story or making it confusing.

I'm aware of my pace, and know that JuniperClan is going to take over a year to complete, likely. That leads us to ...

Accommodate Yourself

If you don't have storytelling knowledge or are unsure if you want to tackle a huge Iliad of a cat story that could take years, just do a little 30 moon mini comic (or novella!) and see if it's to your liking.

And while I had covered it in my prior writing ask, emphasis mine upon:

INTERACTION

Make friends. The Clangen community is pure and untouched by most discourse. It's just people playing God with pixel cats. You don't have to be besties, but comment on your mutual's work and build up a repertoire. I remember the usernames of the people who comment on my work and I always like talking with them. I joined a Discord Server and while I am not very active it is very inspiring to see other people working on their own.

The only other thing that comes to mind is writing dialogue. If I'm alone I'll talk to myself and see if the dialogue sounds natural and genuine. I'll be driving to work and have a whole conversation from the comic repeatedly to try and get the language right for each character lmao it looks insane

Thanks!

[cowlovely]

i truly do think that clara oswald is one of the characters of all time i’m sorry.