#also let's be honest

[kathaynesart]

Since people liked Out of Context Replica Donnie, have an Out of Context Replica Leo.

Note, these won't be making an appearance in the actual comic, they're just "what if" scenarios that I might consider for Patreon down the line. For this one? Let's just say things don't go so well in the early years at the Central Park Colony. Guess they forgot Leo can pretty much change anything metal to a weapon.

[unbidden-yidden]

@ the people in my notes ragging on even the progressive Christians: you're not really gonna make me defend Christianity, right?

Because you're not helping. Christianity isn't going anywhere and the people who draw strength from it shouldn't have to give up their faith just to be considered "pure" enough or whatever to join your movement.

If your movement doesn't have a place for the people out there doing the real work whose faith gives them the strength to face down everything from hunger to natural disasters to cops, then fuck your movement; I don't want anything to do with it.

[whinlatter]

say something about the process of your writing. anything you like

(Reading other writers' responses to this prompt today has been so energising and exciting - thank you for sending me this, and for getting everyone to share their writer reflections, what a rich insight!)

When it comes to writing, I'm a vibes-first, plot-second kind of fiction writer. I can talk a bit about a character-study fic I'm in the middle of writing right now, which has the working-title The Hanging Out With Hagrid Award. I'm currently in the figuring-out-what-this-fic-will-be phase, so hopefully this can serve as an example of how I'm writing these days!

My work often starts with a mental image, an emotion or feeling, and/or a dumb joke I've thought of (eg. the idea of Hogwarts having a prize they give out annually to the highest performing student in different subjects, and the one for Care of Magical Creatures being colloquially referred to as the Hanging Out With Hagrid Award). I always begin with a placeholder opener first. Even if (when) I pull it to shreds later, I always use an opening to stand as a sort of creative manifesto for the direction and feel of the rest of the piece as I write it. I never really write chronologically and rarely start with a plan - I just start writing disparate fragments of dialogue, often that are directed more by rhythm than content (my word docs are full of truly tragic little notes-to-self like 'insert a joke here that goes joke-joke-joke-JOKE...joke-joke-joke-joke.'') I also just throw around bits of prose that convey setting and colour and sensory experience, descriptions about how characters are placed or interacting with a space and with each other. Titles often come very early on, and I almost always build playlists to write to before getting going, sometimes little moodboards and colour palettes.

For fanfiction writing, then I go straight to canon and build up a big google doc of canon quotes and information that relate to the themes of the text (thank god for those totally illegal searchable pdfs). For Orchards, this meant loads of setting description for the Burrow, layout maps of the house and garden, links to calendars, as well as every time in canon Harry and Ginny's relationship is referred to alongside mentions of the Orchard, or Quidditch, or the outdoors in general. I'm just building up the doc for the fic I'm currently working on, and so I'm just throwing in descriptions of Hogwarts grounds, Hagrid's speech patterns, canon info on different animals, different moments where characters in the fic interact in canon so I can try and get their speech patterns and relations to one another right. I'm a pedant (and also deranged?), so I often cite canon in footnotes when I'm writing.

And then once I've done all that, I sketch plot and structure. I usually draw a timeline out for that that looks a bit like a musical score (because I am, in my heart, a pretentious arsehole). This new fic will follow the arc of a character's time at school, but probably won't move chronologically - I love work that plays with chronology, hence why Little Women (2019) has my whole heart and La Vie En Rose blew my mind when I first watched it as a teenager. Pacing is definitely the thing I worry most about - like where is the emotional crescendo going to be, how do I have peaks and troughs in intensity and impact on the reader. This is always always is the thing I spend the most time drafting and re-drafting. Often I deliberately stay away from re-reading a WIP for a week or two to try and come back to it with fresh eyes so I can see how it reads and moves more clearly. Or I zoom out of the word document so it's like 20% size and try and see if some sections are literally too big or too long and throwing off the weighting and the pace of the piece, lol.

What's odd is that I write non-fiction for a living, and historically, I've done the opposite of all of these things when I start writing non-fiction. But coming back to fiction writing has changed how I think about approaching non-fiction writing massively. I'm now trying to think much more about how to make non-fiction compelling and legible to a reader in the ways fiction authors do by instinct. (This approach has also started to make the process of non-fiction writing much less acutely painful, which is a blessed and merciful relief after a long time in the trenches).

[treemaidengeek]

for the wip tag game: Whumptober Migraine?

Started this one for Whumptober last (?) year, while processing the escalating severity of my own migraines. I had draft beta help from the lovely @kutyozh ^_^ Narrator Lan Xichen.

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“I'll rest soon. I promise. Just a little more.”

Wangji studied my face, lips tightly pressed together. It took him forever to decide whatever he was deciding. My head hurt. My face started to hurt too, from hiding. Finally he nodded again and left.

Soon after, I flinched at a thunderous scraping. My door. Was that my door? How was that my door? Had Wangji broken it?

Sizhui bowed himself in, carrying a bowl that smelled far stronger than Gusu's usual fare. Each footfall hammered into my ears.

Oh. Maybe, probably, my door was fine. Maybe the soup and Sizhui walking were all fine. Maybe it was me.

“Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun and Wei-qianbei said you were unwell. Please, try to take a little broth. I fetched it from the kitchens for you and made sure it was only lightly seasoned. Hopefully it will help settle your stomach.” He knelt beside me, eyes wide with concern, and waited.

I rubbed my temples. My lips moved in something that was maybe a smile, maybe a grimace. Wangji, Wangji. And Wei Wuxian. I wondered which of them had sent the young man. No one with a heart said no to Sizhui.

"Thank you." I blinked slowly. What was he waiting for? "Ah. Can I…"

He smiled gently. "Would you like help moving your papers?"

Oh. Right.

I stared blankly at the spread for a moment before sweeping them all into a stack. I'd figure out what they were again later.

Sizhui set down the bowl and produced a spoon and his guqin. I flinched a little when I saw the instrument.

He froze. “Zewu-jun?”

I pulled on what I hoped was a grateful face. “Thank you,” I repeated.

He only wanted to help. Noise, any noise, was painful. But maybe music would help, in his skilful hands.

It didn't. Sizhui quickly set the guqin, apologizing.

"It's all right," I reassured. "You did well. I'm just… not well." My mind was so jumbled. I had to dredge each word from within thick mud. There was a whole sword class behind my eyes, stabbing, clanging, stomping and drilling.

He touched my wrist. I felt the soothing warmth of his qi. I smiled my thanks, and forced myself to focus on the page before me.

"You should really lie down, Zewu-jun," he offered.

I knew he was right. "I can't yet. I need to finish this one." I lifted the letter I had been trying to summarize for Wangji.

His voice was tentative. "The one you've been staring at for half an incense stick’s time?"

I pushed my thoughts through the muck. That long? Maybe. I didn't know. I blinked at my notes. The summary made little sense. My eyes skated over it again and again. It was like skipping stones over water. A word here or there jumped out, but most of it…

"Perhaps a little rest." I set down the letter, braced myself, and stood. The chiseling at my temple redoubled. I swayed, buffeted.

[mel-kusanagi]

there's always a kiss scene that usually happens while the movie starts to end, right?

aka how beyond the spiderverse ends

[lazylittledragon]

i refuse to believe that boycotting is hard. my favourite thing in the world is ordering maccies after a late night at work/a concert/getting drunk. yes i do miss it sometimes. but the other night i ordered from a small place near my house instead and it was the most orgasmic burger i've ever had in my life. i very rarely say this but fucking suck it up people are DEAD

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 185

No one could get into contact with Constantine. 

Now usually that wasn’t that big of a deal, the man constantly disappeared for a few days at a time doing something or other, but he’d been completely silent and unseen for months. Usually he’ll at least answer a call to tell them to fuck off or something. 

And they really need his expertise and are getting incredibly worried for their grumpy team member. Yes he’s an asshole, but he’s their asshole, y’know? And he has a habit of getting into Situations (sure he also usually gets out of them, but what if he didn’t this time?!) 

So they’re desperate. Kind of really desperate. Desperate enough to use the summoning sigil they found on his fridge. They’d checked it, multiple times, and it should summon the hellblazer. 

“You’re not Constantine.” . 

The white-haired teen in the circle yawned, stretching and blinking at them blandly with familiar blue eyes before sighing. “Actually I am,” he stuffed his hands into his hoodie as he looked down at the summoning circle. “Well, technically just one of the many Laughing Magicians currently in the Realms.” 

He gave a grin, looking more amused than annoyed. “Pretty much every one of us is in the Realms right now for family reunion lol. (Did he just say lol out loud??) So like, you’re gonna have to specify which of us you’re tryin’ to summon. Honestly perfect timing for me thanks, the fruitloop keeps flirting with John and it’s horrific so.” 

… That was probably their John, wasn’t it…

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good Morning, World.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[babacontainsmultitudes]

save me, hot Glenn holidays. hot Glenn holidays. hot Glenn holidays, save me.

[admiralvermin]

no more fighting. wrold peace now.

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

They both lost their team and their teacher....

[stil-lindigo]

it’s 10pm. do you know who you are?

[willowser]

not to be so disgusting and gross about gojo on the dash but i think he's such a flirty, teasing idiot that, when you show him genuine and true affection, he goes all somber and quiet.

like you come up to him after dinner and stand on your tip-toes and hug him for no reason, give him a fat kiss on the cheek for no reason, and he just — lets you. doesn't say anything, just kind of hums and lightly places his hands on your hips, so gently you might not even know they're there. you tell him, "i love you, thank you for eating with me," and he presses his mouth to the top of your head, lips squished, and says it back, but there's no jokes, no teasing remarks. he just allows himself to be weak and to bask in it, for as long as he can.

[babydarkstar]

i just. i just…FUCK. i just really want harrowhark to go sicko mode when she realizes john has the power to resurrect whoever he wants he just chooses not to and even after learning about his own blood daughter he still doesn’t resurrect her he just makes her a construct. i would be alecto-levels of grief-stricken-enraged if my childhood nemesis/guard dog/whipping girl/codependent lesbian situationship that i lobotomized over/suicide-pact soulmate/only friend was suddenly here but not here haunting her own dead body and the only reason she’s present is because she was made into a fascist killing machine for a man with a power kink, and she’s not even happy about it but she’s going through the motions because all she knows of love is to be useful. (forever your sword.) and if i was harrow and i died and then came back to myself after switching bodies with the human cage holding the earth’s soul and realized all of this, i think i too would be accompanying the earth’s soul on her shoulder to go kill a man with eclipse-eyes and criminal levels of nonchalance. y’know. the one who guarded g1deon but not me, lord. the one who was so sure i had never seen that which lies insensate and with stilled mind, lord, who did not realize i was a lock and there was a key in the shape of a girl, lord. the one who looked me dead in the eye and told me i could never have my cavalier back, lord. the cavalier who came back haunted and empty and incomplete by your hand, lord.

i’m so team ‘harrowhark saves gideon for real this time not because she wants her cav but because she wants her other half’ i might lose my mind about it

[wannabewriterlol]

I want tamlin and Nesta to start a therapy group and just work through the copious amount of gaslighting they’ve faced by Rhysand, Ferye, and the his merry band of idiots.

[grimme-and-specs]

You know I had to do it to 'em too

Bonus:

EDIT, 2024-4-5:

If this gets to 213 notes before 4-13 I will personally redraw this earlier than planned.