#because I am a professional writer who plans everything

[rhinozilla]

I just realized something about Calder in Detroit 07. The quote goes “you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” 

And yet Calder ‘died’ a villain (he got better) and has since lived long enough to become a hero.

[snuffydoo]

Dimentio’s backstory

This post will explain the origins and past of Dimentio and how he came to be prior to Super Paper Mario. I would like to make it clear that everything I say here is not canon and it should not be taken as clear facts or evidence. This is my telling of his story so if you disagree with certain points of the document… that is perfectly okay. I am not here to force anyone to tell the same story as I do. However; I do take a lot of inspiration and points from Garson/Carson. 

>Another thing, I might change some things in the future, especially in terms of designs or names. I will keep this document updated whenever I make any said changes.

Also please don’t go through my doc picking apart my grammar and english mistakes. I know I’m not a professional writer. Thank you

Enough rambling/disclaimers

Let’s begin

The Beginning

The story starts off with a small family of four. 

(The dad’s design is not finished)

(Will update it when I do)

A mom, a dad, a daughter and a son. The dad was an all-powerful magician with the power to bend and create dimensions while the mom was an ancient who had the power to produce illusions. They were both named Universi and Illumina. They then named their kids Damon (Dimi) and Poppy respectfully as they were born. The family was a content family with only the goal to help the other ancients and provide a safe, healthy economy. Using their magic, they would help the civilizations. However, fate had other plans. 

Around the time Dimi was 10 he would come crawling to his mom about certain nightmares he has been having. Each new nightmare shares very similar attributes and traits to the previous one. They all had a forbidding message about a heart made of chaos that would wipe out everything as we know it. Of course these were just dreams right? That’s what Illumina thought of at first until she started getting visions with the same descriptors. 

This grew worry in her as she anxiously watched over Dimi as he continued to live his childfree life. The fear only seemed to grow as the visions got worse for them both. Universi soon caught wind of what was happening and quickly asked what they all meant. He would then ask Dimi the same questions making sure everything was all right. The story was always the same in these visions/nightmares of a masked man who would use the heart of chaos to live out a prophecy that would wipe out every dimension. Once it was clear that Dimi would be that man one day- the terror grew quickly.

Universi quickly disposed of that thought and decided to fight the future. He went into action to start taking more responsibility in leading Dimi the right way. He would direct him to doing the right thing and nag him constantly about what was right or wrong. His punishments were harsh when he did mess up and his words were stern despite Dimi still being really young. Their relationship grew really shaky as both parents had all their attention on him. This only caused more issues than good. 

With all this attention on Damon, Poppy started to get neglected. She was often placed aside because the fears of Dimi’s future were more worrisome than hers. The parents never meant to do this to her but the consequences will take a toll. One day, Poppy started to get very sick as she lay to rest hoping it was just a fever. Not too long after, it took her life as Illumina screamed in terror. Grief quickly took over the family as the dad mourned his daughter for days upon end. With the family completely in shambles, both parents were once again focused on other things as Dimi finally had a chance to breathe and do his own thing. He really didn’t do much aside from locking himself in his room, reading or studying magic. This is where he starts to come up with a book that will be detrimental to super paper mario as a whole. The dark prognosticus. 

Now… At the time it wasn’t really much. It was just a bunch of random notes and diary documents about what his dreams were like and certain spells he jotted down. It was supposed to help him get an understanding of his future and basically get his visions onto paper so he wouldn’t forget them. He even recorded some of his spells that his dad had been practicing. Even an important one that was supposed to bring the dead back to life in a new body. Whatever that meant. While he was researching that, both Dimi and his mom didn’t have much to do so Illumina decided to promise Dimi that he would take him out on a little vacation. It was probably the only time in such a long while that Dimi would be excited for something. 

A couple weeks passed and nothing much has changed. Luckily it was the day of vacation as Illumina beckoned Dimi to come with him. It would help calm both of their nerves as well as maybe rekindling their relationship. She was hoping to help apologize for being a terrible mother as she guided him towards one of the dimension doors. 

The next events came as a surprise.

Before the two could make it to the door, a large explosion happened. At the time, no one knew what caused it. (Frankly someone hypothesized it was faulty wiring to old broken machines). 

Illumina was now dead.

The accident caused an uproar amongst many as people far and wide came to debate and decipher the events of the explosion. The magician’s wife was dead and his son now was nowhere to be seen. News caught wind to Universi as he began to now mourn the death of his entire family. Everything was taken away from him in the span of a couple years. 

Dimi, although presumed to be dead by the public, was actually not really dead. He was caught in the explosion, yes, but he ended up surviving. (Warning for wound depictions and injuries.)  When the explosion happened, it burned his face and his arms were deeply scarred. He didn’t seek help right away, afraid of his father’s reaction so instead he ran away and lived in a shack far from the town. He wasn’t really sure what to do now. Both his mom and his sister were gone, his father was in heavy grieving, and now his own body was injured. He waited it out nonetheless. He didn’t want to go back. Not now. 

Time passed as things at the village started to settle down. Universi became consumed in his work as he was seen to never leave his house aside from calling forth an assistant he hired to help him out. Even the people at the town have become shaken by the events that transpired before them. Silence was thought to have been forever until Universi had an epiphany. 

Once again he refused to let fate describe his future so he did the unthinkable one day. Taking his daughter, he was able to transport her soul into a new corpable body in which he proclaimed as the first ever pixl. He named her the pixl queen and finally came out of his house to shout the praise of his new work. 

News spread fast as the Magician taught his discovery to various other ancients his power of creating pixls. Building tools and ways to bring dead ones back to life as a second chance. A way to preserve the souls of family members. It was a huge success and soon ancients across multiple dimensions were practicing his ways. Universi couldn’t have been happier as he rejoiced at bringing his own daughter back. There was one big issue though, she had no memories or relocation of her past. When she became the pixl queen, all her thoughts and past were erased from her mind. She did not know who he was, or where she came from. All pixls didn’t seem to remember who they were previously. This would soon become an issue later on but let’s get back to Dimi. 

Damon was actually seemingly doing better as he thought that he would finally return home. He got up and headed back with a heavy sigh in his breath. When he came back he couldn’t believe his eyes. The civilization has flourished since he left with people everywhere exclaiming about how the pixls have vastly improved everything in their lives. Dimi, bewildered, went back home to see his dad once more. Of course Universi was even more ecstatic to see his son was actually alive. He helped him settle back in as he helped tend to Damon’s wounds. 

(Not an important note but I wanted to say this anyway. This is where Dimi gets his floaty hands since his arms were way too damaged. His dad helped him out with this) 

Dimi wasn’t too fond of what his dad was doing however. Pixls? Reviving dead members? Assistants? He was completely delusional from grief that he didn’t even have a grasp on what he was actually doing. Damon’s own sister doesn’t even recognize him anymore. Dislike for his father started to become hatred as he quickly started to separate himself from Universi again. 

His relationship with Poppy or well.. The Pixl Queen wasn’t even the same anymore. She was very derogatory of him and often would want nothing to do with Dimi. She had a strong hatred for the ancients for some reason and Damon didn’t get a pass. He started to hate her too as isolation got the best of him. He would go back to what he was doing before all this went down and idly sit in his room. Ashamed of his own face he tried finding a cure and even began wearing a mask to hide his injuries. He couldn’t look at himself anymore in the mirror.

Things played out normally after that or well.. Somewhat normally. Universi would continue to do his own work as both Damon and his sister did her own things. Dimi however was starting to lose it as he became more and more enamored in darker forms of magic. It completely enthralled him as he finally found perhaps a spell that can finally fix his broken face. Upon practice, it worked. His face finally healed and he no longer had scars that plagued his skin. That’s what happened at first at least. Time passed and everything seemed to have gone wrong. The magic backfired and completely corrupted his body. His face especially was now only void. Damon was no longer the same person anymore as this was his last push over the edge. He officially ran away and didn’t look back. 

That’s basically the main gist of what I wanted to write here. A couple years into the future he would soon dawn his new jester attire for he was enamored by the theatrical arts. He then would go completely insane and wish to wipe out all the dimensions and become ruler of them all. I could also get into the nitty gritty of the Pixl Queen revolution against the ancients, how the war was started, or how the Pixl queen became Shadoo  but this document is long enough. (Maybe in the future I’ll explain that too who knows)

But that’s all I wanted to explain today and I thank everyone who read it. 

[doodle17]

Psychonauts Future Fanfic chapter 1

(I am by no means a professional writer, and this was made entirely for fun. But as a warning, chapters may be heavily edited or even deleted and re-uploaded in the future, as I am very self conscious about my writing.)

Raz looked down at the newspapers set on the table by Sasha. He let out a defeated sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I'm stumped. I don't know what to do..."

"Of course you don't..." Sasha grumbled. Raz looked back to the papers. He tried to examine them closer, seeing if maybe there was at least a small bit of evidence that could lead them to what their criminal was planning. Of course, he found nothing.

The papers were the same old thing. Research facilities and laboratories destroyed and ruined, robbed of everything valuable. The same old headline was on everyone. "Local Research stolen by mysterious strangers." Of course, the Psychonauts knew who it was. But unfortunately, they didn't know why they were stealing hazardous amounts of chemicals and Psi-lirium. And they didn't know where they were taking it.

Raz sifted through the papers before once again looking to Sasha. He tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Ah, c'mon Sasha, well find out! Eventually." Sasha lowered his glasses and raised an eyebrow. Raz looked around the room awkwardly before clearing his throat.

"Well, Agent Forsythe needs us to meet in her office. She says she has a plan." Sasha said with a doubtful tone. He stood up from his chair and waved his hand, gesturing for Raz to follow him. Raz glanced at the papers one more time. He picked one up, quickly folded it and put it in the pocket of his coat, then quickly caught up with Sasha.

As the two of them walked down the hallway, Raz glanced at Sasha. He remembered when he was a kid he would have to look up in order to make eye contact, but now he was almost as tall as him. Maybe even a few inches taller! He definitely changed in the past 9 years. Everyone had. Especially his family. Queepie was going to start his first week at camp soon.

Wow. How time flies... Raz thought to himself. It only felt like his first day at camp was a few weeks ago. I can't believe I'm already 19 years old. Man, time really flies by...He softly chuckled to himself. I remember when I was younger, I couldn't wait to go on crazy missions like this. Too bad I didn't know there was a LOT more boring investigating than kicking "bad guy" ass.

"Something on your mind, Razputin?" Sasha said, breaking the silence and snapping Raz out of his train of thought. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Just thinking about how much things have changed," He gestured to himself. "Including me." He grinned. Sasha shook his head but smiled slightly. "I don't think you've changed as much as you think. Maybe height wise."

"Oh yeah! I'm almost taller than you!" He hovered his hand above Sashas' head playfully. "Ugh, don't remind me. Every day I see you, it just makes me feel older." Raz laughed. "Hey, do you remember that old helmet?"

"Now Razutin, that's a very rude thing to say about Agent Fullbear-"

"No, no, the one I used to wear. The aviators helmet. With the goggles? Remember when Milla got me these glasses because they looked like my goggles?" He pointed the glasses with red tinted lenses resting on his head. Sasha squinted, thinking for a moment. "Ah! Yes, I remember now." He nodded. "Yes, I do remember that helmet. You used to wear it everywhere. I think I've only seen you without a few times before you stopped wearing it."

"Yeah!" Raz said. I used to wear that thing to bed sometimes. I wonder if it's still lying around somewhere... I wonder if it still fits...

"Agents."

The two of them turned to see an exhausted Norma holding a large mug of coffee and folders. Her eyes looked like it was taking all of her strength to hold them up, with dark bags underneath them. She heavily sighed. "Agent Forsythe is expecting you, and there was something else..." She tried to flip through the folders and papers. "Hey Norma, you doin' alright?" Raz asked. She heavily sighed again.

"Honestly, no. The damned receptionist skipped work again this week, so guess who's covering for her." She said with a forced, miserable smile. She proceeded to walk past the two of them as if she didn't stop to talk to them in the first place. "You'd better hurry, Forsythe is getting anxious. You know how she gets."

"Is that the life of the party, Razputin, I see?" Said Milla happily as the two men walked into Hollis' office. "In the flesh, baby!" Raz said with finger guns. Milla laughed. "Oh, it feels like every time I look at you, I'm expecting to see a small little boy only to be met with a handsome young man. You're turning my hair gray Agent Aquato!" She said with a playful smile. Raz blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "D'aw, well I dunno about handsome -"

"Agents Nein, Vodello, and Aquato..." Hollis looked up from her papers and raised an eyebrow. Raz didn't even notice she was there. He was definitely startled when he heard her voice. She definitely sounded as tired as everyone else working on the current mission. Her desk was full of papers and empty cups of coffee. She lifted her reading classes and rested them her head. "Please, Agents, take a seat. I believe I've got a solution to our situation regarding the recent robberies."

She gestured for the three of them to take one of the seats at the front of her desk. "I believe I've found a way for all of us to figure out what our good friends at the Mandela corporation plan to do with all of the important stuff they've stolen." She said as she reached for a few papers that were resting underneath an empty coffee cup. She tapped them on her desk before sliding them toward the three Agents."There is one for each of you." She said, leaning back in her chair. Raz examined the paper. It had a picture of him, with a fake name and a bunch of other stuff. It looked like a resume of some sort. "Fake personas?" Raz asked, looking from his paper and pushing his glasses into place. Hollis nodded. "Yes, I have a feeling we won't get any farther if all we do is wait for them to attempt another scheme and hope we can get there on time to stop them. But if we can get inside..." She leaned in.

"But, isn't the place guarded by, like, a MILLION guards and security systems?" Raz asked. "Not to worry, Aquato, the two of you will be acting as interns. Milla and Sasha will be acting as your mentors. Otto has made sure that your fake work IDs are fool-proof." Intern, huh? That brings back memories. Raz then remembered being locked in the old closet in nothing but his underwear. He shuddered. Not very good memories.

"This may actually work!" Milla said, admiring her paper. But, who's going to be joining us?" That's right. Raz noticed she was holding a fourth paper. "Yeah, didn't you mention another agent to be the second intern with me?" Raz wondered who it could be.

Maybe Lizzie, or Dogen, maybe Adam! Oh, I hope it's Adam and not Norma. PLEASE, don't let it be Norma... Before Forsythe could answer, someone spoke. "It's mine."

Raz's heart stopped for a moment before it immediately started to beat a million miles a minute. He turned around quickly, almost getting out of his chair. Was it really?

"L-Lili?!" He sputtered.

(And end of chapter! Thanks for reading! Comments or tips are greatly appreciated as I want future chapters to be exceptional.)

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

so howd you like it what are your thoughts

Anon, I hope you don't mind it but I'm going to use this ask as an excuse to do my Full On Rambling post about my honest thoughts. I'll try to keep is as coherent as possible, but I can't actually guarantee it :')

Also putting it under a cut because some of it is going to sound negative (as I said, I want to exorcise any critiques I have so I can go back to Vibing asap) and I know many people (undestandibly!!) won't want to read that, and I don't want to burst anyone's happy bubble :) . And also because of s3 spoilers. Bear in mind that it's not a rant post, I still had tons of fun with the season. But since I'm going to be talking about the things I enjoyed forevermore and gonna try to keep all my 'didn't really like this :/'s contained in this post, it may come out sounding like I enjoyed it less than I truly did. Here we go, get ready for some Thoughts

-> Content

Okay, listen. This season was fun. I had a nice time watching the newest shenanigans. New characters (with one notable exception) were a joy to watch (yes, even the thing. We're in a toxic situationship) and I was greatly amused by their adventures; most of them kept me on the edge of my seat.

(ok, here's where the negativity begins. Please don't take me for someone who wanted everything to be done for Their Specific Standards or who thinks they know more than the professional and extremely skilled team that was behind the series. I'm just throwing around thoughts about how I feel, but in the end, the only thing that matters is that Luke Pearson and the team got to tell the story they wanted to. If that was achieved, I'm happy regardless)

However, I couldn't help but think that some of it felt... like it was "thrown" at us, in a way? To be fair, I think most of the negative points I'll discuss in this post are a consequence of this season being 6 epsidoes short of what the writers originally planned because, as I've mentioned before, I do think the show's writing is great and that the team puts their heart and soul into making this the best cartoon possible. Anyway, what I mean is that at times I thought the episodes seemed so worried with delivering all the information they could that a lot was left behind and some stuff didn't really tie together with the rest.

For example; I still cannot understand why aunt Astrid and Anders had to be these big surprises that had never been mentioned before if Hilda, the character who we see this world through, already knew about them? Don't misunderstand me, I am well aware that these nitpicks of mine are subjective and only my personal opinions that may very well simply be a consequence of not understanding what the writers were trying to achieve. I just feel like Johanna's family and Hilda's father are topics that have been discussed so at lenght in the fandom, precisely because they'd been so carefully skirted around in the previous seasons, that the reveal that nothing really dramatic had happened (between Johanna/Astrid and Johanna/Anders, at least) feels anticlimatic to me. It just feels (again, to me, personal opinion) that if this was going to be the case all along they could have mentioned these characters before, and it would have made the narrative make a little more sense.

(This is especially true to me in Anders' case. Bc it felt to me like they had been trying to highlight how irrelevant Hilda's dad was to the story in the first seasons by not bringing him up at all, by not even pointing out his abscence. But I can't really see the point in that if you're gonna bring out the man either way)

Ironically, at the same time I felt like some of the arcs were a tad overachieving, especially the Johanna's parents one. I just felt like it was Too Much Too Quickly, which once again is likely because of the season having been shortened. I feel like if they really wanted to do that arc, and that way, it would have been helpful to cut some other storylines so they could begin fleshing out this one earlier. They way it was done I just personally (can you tell I'm terrified of being taken as a hater?) felt like there was no time at all to get either used to the idea of Johanna being half faerie nor to get attatched to her parents. Like. I know the episode was the season's emotional peak, but it just didn't hit me the way I know it should.

Not sure if this was a me problem, but I felt like the audience wasn't given enough time to process what had even happened when they got stuck in the fairie island, nor to even consider that they'd truly be stuck there forever, much less to fully process the sacrifice Johanna was making when she left it with Hilda. I didn't get to get attached to Johanna's parents or to the dynamic they have with their daughter. I didn't suffer the way I wanted to when I saw them having to part ways, because I couldn't become invested in their bond when I was still trying to wrap my head around what their backstory even was and pay attention to the action heavy scenes that were to come.

What I'm gonna say here is way meaner than the people behind the show's writing deserve and I know, I can absolutely tell it isn't the case because you can see some of the foreshadowing once you have the benefit of hindsight, but it felt to me like some of Johanna's backstory was written for shock value alone. Which, considering the previous components of the season that I have already mentioned felt underwhelming, was even more jarring.

Another thing is that I feel like a lot was sacrificed in order to do these overachieving arcs. This maaay just be the side character lover and change hater in me, but I do feel like in order to present to us all these new concepts that would be necessary for the backstory to make sense, we were deprived of some elements in Hilda The Series that are arguably what the show does best. It felt like they all but scratched all of their previous stories, characters and components to switch them up for new ones. Pikablob has said it better than me, tbh.

However. I do feel like saying that none of the fears I had for the season came true. No character feels ooc, no one was left with an incomplete arc, and though I can't see how Anders contributes to the story, if he had to be there I feel like the way that was it done was the right one.

-> Pacing

Frenetic. Run for the hills kind of thing sometimes. Which, once again, I can't bring myself to believe was the writers' fault, not when they had other 6 episodes planned that they didn't get to do. I absolutely understand that they had to condense everything they wanted to show us into half the runtime. But it did become an issue (to me) when instead of the trademark Hilda Idyllic Tranquility I usually feel while watching (even plot and action heavy content like TMK), I felt like I was watching a completely different cartoon. Carmen Sandiego, or something like that (please note that I do also love Carmen Sandiego). Many times it just felt like there was no breathing space, which isn't necessarily bad when done well, but I hadn't gone into the season prepared for that.

It wasn't a problem that was all around present, though. I do want to point out that imo "The Giant Slayer", "The Laughing Merman", "Strange Frequencies" and even "The Forgotten Lake" still felt like Hilda to me. Which is where I realize what the main issue I had with the season was. That a lot of it just felt like a different show.

-> ~ vibes ~

I am bringing back the disclaimer that if the team told the story they wanted to, then good for them, I'm pleased as can be. I do enjoy that the series played with some different concepts. The musicality and colours in The Laughing Merman, for example, were absolutely delightful to me. Seriously, I want an entire Hilda musical now.

But some things I just couldn't help but feel were so disconnected from the previous feel of the show that it felt to me like they didn't belong. You can sum the rest of this post up by saying that season 3 would have been one of my favourite ever cartoons if it had been its own thing. But it's not, so I can't help but compare it and try to understand how all of the installments work when together.

The faeries, for example. I was so excited when I saw the trailer and knew it was going to be one of the plots, because I thought it was going to be another adventure of the day type of thing that would span over three episodes max. And listen, I've talked about how much I love Celtic folklore, and maybe this is just my consistency loving brain being annoying, but it felt a bit... clashing? that this season was based on tales and creatures and treaditions that weren't the scandinavian ones that inspired the rest of the series. It just felt like a major shift in tone that I don't really understand (once again, me problem, may very well be a skill issue on my part & I'm not saying they shouldn't have ventured so far just bc I didn't quite vibe with it). It just feels a bit off to me, knowing that Johanna's backstory was likely planned from the start, that there wasn't any celtic lore at all in previous seasons to make this sudden detachment from nordic folklore feel less out of the blue.

You know that joke that Disney movies like Aladdin and Raya take concepts from different cultures and smash them together like they're not completely different? I felt to some extent (bc OF COURSE Hilda is much better researched and has a lot better quality than that /gen) like they did that this season. But with white people. Which, fair, I can appreciate the irony.

Back to the topic of bold storylines, I understand what the Hilda team did with all the Johanna backstory. I understand that it's something that everyone wanted to see soo bad and they wanted it to be great (and it was). The thing I got stuck on is just that it ended up changing the vibe of the show to me. Whereas previous seasons feel like "slice of life in a magical place", I felt like this time I was watching a magic centered fantasy. Especially when they got into trying to explain the origin of magic and everything. Which is ironic, because I enjoyed the concept a lot and will explore it in the future, but it still felt like something that I wouldn't have expected Hilda the Series to tackle. Like there was a giant shift from folkloric to fantastic that isn't bad, but it is different and I hadn't been prepared for that lol.

God, I feel like I just wrote all of that and just to be A Bitch. I just wanted to get these thoughts out but I don't expect you guys to agree or anything. I genuinely liked watching this season, and I will continue to reiterate this in the future. And even if it doesn't beat s1 or s2 in my heart, I'm still grateful we got a final season at all, and everyone who was involved in it deserves all the praise <3

[lcvernat]

Our Tainted Love Chapter Three | Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist | Chapter Two | Chapter Four

Series Summary: Natalia Romanova had one mission: kill the princess. It was meant to be simple for someone of her skillset, and it would've been simple, but Natalia made one tiny mistake that could cost her everything: she fell for you. Yet she had no choice, you were her mission and she had to complete it.

At the end of the day, a love between an assassin and her target was destined to end in bloodshed.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of dreykov & violence (think that's all tbh but lemme know if i forgot something)

A/N: starting this off by saying i am so sorry for abandoning this series for 3 months. writers block sucks but i promise you this series will get finished and i will try my hardest to make updates more frequent! i love this series, and i am so excited to write the next chapters & also to hear what you guys think. so please tell me what your thoughts are!! i love love love getting comment reblogs or replies to my fics, they mean the world.

You don't think you've ever met a more talkative man before today. You had danced with him three times, and he had not ceased his obnoxious chatter once. Your ears were going to bleed. His voice was like gravel, but it wasn't hot or attractive, it was disgusting, and you had to resist the urge to tell him to clear his throat multiple times. How he managed to still have things to talk about, you didn't know. You'd tried your hardest to tune him out after the first dance had ended, your body moving on autopilot as you nodded along to whatever he was saying.

Your feet were aching, and your face muscles were strained from the amount of times you were required to smile tonight. All you wanted to do right now was head back to your quarters and go to sleep. You hadn't even gotten another glimpse of the mysterious woman since the first time you saw her; it was as if she had walked through a wall and disappeared.

"-gardens are beautiful, you shall have to come visit them one day, yes?"

Lord Armstrong (you had surprisingly paid enough attention to catch his name) was looking at you expectantly and you blinked, your mouth tilting downwards in confusion for a split second before regaining your composure and plastering another massively fake smile onto your face.

"Hm? Oh yes, yes, that would be lovely."

He immediately brightened, and you had literally no idea what you'd just agreed to. Maybe if he wasn't so dull and boring, you'd pay more attention to him, but the only thing that was currently occupying your thoughts was the mysterious redhead. You hoped you'd be able to see her again, even though you didn't know her name. But you were determined to find her and speak to her, and nothing was going to stop you. Unless you died from boredom because of Lord Armstrong.

"Apologies, my Lord," you cut him off right as he opened his mouth to speak again. He shut his mouth, looking disgruntled that you had interrupted him (you were pretty sure he was a misogynistic asshole, if the way he looked down his nose as if he was superior to you was any indication) but chose wisely not to say anything, "but I do have to admit I'm quite tired. Would it be alright if I retire for the night?" Your voice was as professional as you could make it, even if you really wanted to scream at the insipid man.

You were planning on leaving anyway, whether he said yes or no, but you figured it was nice to ask him first. Many of the guests and nobles had already retired to their quarters for the night, each of them saying goodbye to you as they left. Each of them except for the redhead. It didn't make any sense. Why would she come to this ball, dedicated to finding you a marriage partner, without even bothering to introduce herself?

Ironic how she was the only one to catch your attention out of the hundreds of hopeful guests who had purposely sought you out multiple times to introduce themselves and have lengthy, albeit mundane, conversations with you. Lord Armstrong nodded, despite looking a bit disappointed that he couldn't get to spend any more time with you. You bid goodnight to him and the rest of the lingering guests before exiting the ballroom, one of the guards following in stride behind you the minute you leave.

Maggie was already waiting for you in your room, preparing to help you undress for the night. You were thankful to see a welcome and familiar face after hours of interacting with people you've either never met before or had seen at least once in your life, but all you really needed right now was to sleep for at least 24 hours.

The first part of her plan had worked perfectly. Natasha had captured your attention and had then effectively slipped out of the ballroom without being noticed by any of the guests inside, most busy mingling or trying to get a conversation or dance with you, so it was really quite easy to slip out unnoticed. She claimed a headache and had a servant escort her to her quarters.

They were nice. Extravagant, really. Better than anything she’s ever had. Better than the rickety bed with a mattress so uncomfortable concrete would be softer that she had to deal with in the Red Room. A dark, jealous monster writhed in her chest as she clenched her jaw. Life was unfair. She was well aware of that, and she tried to never let it bother her, but seeing these rooms that half the people in this castle had been used to all of her life whilst she had been treated as less than an animal, jealousy couldn't help but strike.

Being born was a gamble that no one asked to be a part of. Either you were lucky, and were born into the rich, spoiled life such as this; never having to know a day of pain or hardship in your life. Or you were another Natalia Romanova, unlucky in the gamble of life, despite being a child who had asked for none of it.

It wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t do anything about it. This was her life, whether she liked it or not. At least she could savor the six months of living in this room, with a bed that looked like a comfortable cloud she could sink right into, and actual good food that didn't taste like cardboard.

Yet that wasn't the only thing she should focus on; she had a mission to do. Everything seemed to be going according to plan so far, and hopefully she had captured your attention enough that you'd actively seek her out tomorrow. She didn't want to be the one to seek you out, didn't want to seem too eager. Best if she kept eyes off her for as long as possible.

Right now, though, she was ready to collapse into bed, and this time, she wouldn't be handcuffed to it. It's weird, this newfound sense of some freedom, even if she was only here on a mission. She could... live. Away from the chains Dreykov had her trapped in. All he required was updates on how the mission was going via letters, but he didn't need to know if she decided to act human for a while. Savor the months of just being able to simply live before she had to complete the mission.

It was noon now; you'd been up for hours and yet you still hadn't set eyes on the mysterious redhead from last night. You didn't want to risk asking anyone if they knew her name because you didn't know whether she was a noble or a commoner or even perhaps a peasant. Despite the Royal Marriage Laws being repealed 50 or so years ago, many nobles still frowned upon the idea of a member of the royal family marrying a commoner.

Did it make sense economically wise? Yes, because unfortunately, you knew that many of the royal family didn't marry for love. It was expected of them, really. They married for economic purposes, nobles that would be able to give them benefits economically. Rarely, they married for love. The marriage laws had been repealed, yet it was still rare for someone to marry a commoner or peasant.

You couldn't risk it. Even if you were adamant that you were going to fall in love with someone and marry them, not someone you couldn't stand. You were not going to subject yourself to years trapped in a loveless marriage: you would rather abdicate.

Luckily, you could always ask Wanda. She was your closest confidant and wanted nothing but the best for you. If you asked her, she'd probably fight to the death just to allow you to marry someone you actually loved.

"The redhead wearing all black?" She asked for confirmation whenever you had brought up the subject.

You nodded.

Wanda shrugged, hopping over a puddle before continuing, "I saw her for a split second. That's about it. She looked kind of weird. Pretty, but weird. I mean, who wears all black to a ball of potential courtiers? You'd think she would want to stand out."

You and Wanda had managed to escape the swarm of courtiers that wanted to get to know you more temporarily by retreating to the garden. You'd begged Clint to guard the gardens and not let anyone else in because you desperately needed some alone time to talk to your best friend. It had taken him a lot of convincing to leave you alone, since rumor had it that Maggie had threatened all of the guards to make sure you weren't alone with anyone for even a split second. Clint liked you though, and he trusted Wanda nearly as much as he trusted you, so he had agreed in the end.

"Maybe she didn't need to stand out," you muttered, plucking a flower out of one of the bushes.

You can feel Wanda's gaze on you, assessing you. "Don't tell me you've experienced love at first sight," she sighs, exasperatedly, "you don't know her. Now, I don't care whether you end up marrying a noble or commoner or even a dog if you really wanted to but... other people might care."

It's your turn to sigh, "I know. But she was pretty, and... there was just something about her, okay? I want to see her again."

Wanda sighed resignedly, but her gaze softened, "I'll ask around. Someone's had to have seen her."

You brighten, wrapping your arms around the redhead gratefully.

"You are the best, Wands,"

"I know."

Another victim visited her in her dream last night. Despite sleeping in a bed so comfortable it was almost surreal, the nightmares didn't stop plaguing her. For some reason, this particular nightmare had unnerved her more than usual, even though it was the same monotonous plot of all her other nightmares - Natasha reliving her kills again and again. Maybe it was the waking up in an unfamiliar environment, and the fact that she wasn't handcuffed to her bed that had done it. Whatever it was, it had woken her up before the sun had risen and it had kept her up.

Natasha thought it would be best to explore the castle today, so she would know her way around her temporary home for the next six months. She would probably have to steal a map from somewhere too, get a look at all the exits and guard towers, in case she might ever need to make a quick escape, in the rare chance the mission would go wrong. She didn't plan on hunting you down, instead hoping that you would be the one to attempt to hunt her down. The prey hunting the predator. How charming.

Either it was just her luck (and it probably wasn't, considering she has never been lucky a day in her life) or she was just in the right place at the right time, but she spotted you. Her next stop on her exploration list was the gardens, and Natasha had admittedly been quite confused as to why there was a guard refusing to let anyone entrance into them. That was until she had heard your laugh, followed by the sound of your light footsteps on the grass as you came into view, Wanda in tow beside you.

Natasha knew the exact moment you laid your eyes on her. Saw the way your breath hitched, and your chest stopped rising momentarily. Wanda stopped in her tracks too, turning to give Natasha an assessing stare. Natasha straightened automatically, before sending a gentle smile Wanda's way. Wanda may potentially prove to be a complication in her plan, especially since she's so close to you. Having Wanda grow suspicious of her is the last thing she needs, so she needs to get on the other redhead's good side.

She turns her attention to you then, and kneels down into a curtsey, "Your highness. Lady Romanoff, but please just call me Natasha. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She keeps her voice prim and proper as she rises from the curtsey.

"Natasha," you smiled at her, "please just call me Y/N." You turn to look at Wanda, Natasha sensing a silent conversation going on between the two of you, before you turn back to her, "Would you want to take a walk with me in the gardens?" You finally ask. Natasha notices Wanda gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before slipping away soundlessly, leaving the two of you and the guard alone. The guard coughs then, and you turn to look at him. The expression on his face says he doesn't want to leave you alone with Natasha. Your expression is reassuring, promising that you'll be okay.

If only you knew.

After an intense but silent stare-off between the two, the guard sighed resignedly, waving his hand in what Natasha thinks is meant to be a very begrudging approval.

"I would love to," Natasha finally replies, and the side of her mouth quirks up as she sees your face brightening. You turn on your heel, making your way back where you came, and Natasha follows after you.

"So, Natasha, I've heard that you're a ballerina?" You ask her. You'd been talking for a while, simply getting to know each other. Luck was on your side today, the universe wanting you to meet the redhead as much as you had wanted to meet her, and you were caught off-guard whenever you had exited the gardens just to come face to face with the mysterious redhead from the previous night.

Of course, you couldn't pass up on the perfect opportunity to actually have a conversation with her and show her your favorite part of the court, so you just had to ask her if she wanted to join you for a walk.

Natasha nodded, "I do. Though I doubt you've seen any of my performances. I, well, I perform in the more... poor parts of the kingdom."

You could sense her hesitance as she said that. She probably thought you would judge her for it. Frowning, you stop in your tracks and turn to face her. She stops too, turning to you with a confused expression on her face.

"I don't care about that," you say softly, "I'd love to see you perform one day. If you want to show me."

Natasha's smile is shy, "Thank you. I'd love to perform for you one day."

"Well, you have six months to find some time to perform so," you trail off, your tone lighthearted and full of amusement.

A light chuckle is your only response, and you both descend into a peaceful silence as you walk through the gardens together. Occasionally, you’ll point out some of your favorite flowers in the garden, and it warms your insides how you notice Natasha eagerly latching onto your every word. You don’t think anyone has ever given you so much undivided attention before, except for Wanda.

Carol used to give you her undivided attention, you two used to be inseparable, but something happened one day, and you weren’t sure what. A rift divided your friendship, slowly tearing it apart as you both drifted away from each other. It stung then, and it still left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth now. You hoped the rumors of her courting Maria Rambeau were true though, because you still wanted her to be happy.

“Are you okay?” Natasha glances at you, noticing the abrupt change in your mood, as if someone had flicked a switch inside you.

You shake yourself, pushing away the memories and focusing on the present. “Yep! Completely fine,” you give a tight-lipped smile before an idea popped into your head and you gasped, eager for a change of subject. “Hey! I want to show you something, come on.”

Grabbing Natasha’s hand, you failed to notice how the redhead momentarily tensed at your touch because you were too excited to drag her to one of the best spots in the garden. It was hidden deep into the gardens, and not many people knew of the place, but you did, and it was magical. You weren't sure why you wanted to share it with Natasha, you were just certain that you did want to share this special place with her.

"Here we are!" You said as you rounded a corner, the view greeting you was a beautiful stone fountain, covered in leaves and vines, moss in the crevices of some of the intricate designs carved into the fountain centuries ago. There was no water in the fountain, having dried out years ago, yet it was still beautiful. It was hidden by overgrown hedges that hadn't been trimmed or taken care of in years, and unless you were really searching for it, you wouldn't find it. You loved it. Sometimes you came here to hide from the duties of being a princess. No one ever found you here, not even the guards.

"Do you like it? It's one of my favorite places, I come here to hide sometimes. I don't think anyone else knows about it, not even Wanda. So, you're one of the special ones to know of its existence." You rounded on Natasha, smiling.

"It is beautiful," she agrees, "how long has it been here?"

"I have no idea, probably a long while. Maybe since the castle was built? Probably since the first ever monarchs, like way before my time. I love it, though."

You still hadn't taken your hand out of Natasha's. She hadn't removed her hand from your grip either, though. Unfortunately, she noticed it the same second you did, and abruptly pulled her hand from yours. You tried not to visibly deflate.

Wanda would most definitely laugh at you right now, talk some crap about 'love at first sight', but was it really your fault? Natasha was nice, and very pretty, almost ethereal. She looked like an angel. She actually listened to you ramble too, which was something. She wasn't boring like everyone else, but you knew you had to converse with some of the other guests too. This was a six-month long event, so you couldn't really call it a day on the second day, and you still didn't really know Natasha. You wanted to get closer to her, while also talking to the other guests.

"We should probably head back now," you break the awkward silence that had enveloped the two of you, "the sun's setting, and I don't want to get murdered by my lady-in-waiting."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

The walk back was unfortunately very awkward. The mood was certainly ruined tonight.

Y/N L/N was the complete opposite of what Natasha had expected. The assassin expected an uptight, spoilt, and selfish princess, but you weren't that at all. You were the type of princess people wrote fairytales about. She wouldn't be surprised if you had a deeply devoted love for animals too.

She couldn't get her emotions involved. She couldn't afford that. Despite you not fitting the image she had made of you in her mind, she'd have to work around it. Even if you had treated her nicer than she's ever been treated in her life. Even if she had felt actual happiness today. Or what she thought was happiness. Something warm had blossomed in her chest as she walked through the gardens with you, trying its hardest to battle the darkness the Red Room had inflicted in her. Her life was a sick game.

Natasha had never been asked to get to know her victims before, rarely would she ever be asked to gain a relationship with them. She got their names, location, and killed them. That was it. This was different. She had to gain a relationship with you, had to gain your trust. She had to actually get to know not just the princess, but Y/N L/N. But she'd went her entire life with thinking of her victims as nothing except for something to be discarded, thrown out like the week's garbage. She could easily do the same for you. She could.

Having retired to her room for the night, she began to write the letter to Dreykov, needing to send it out tomorrow. The undercover guard had caught her while she was exploring a deserted corridor earlier today, and he had damn well been close to getting his throat slit with the way he had grabbed her arm, but luckily for him he had slipped her the note and revealed his identity before she could do so. Ivan was his name, and he'd been undercover here for months, under the guise that he had been a very skilled bodyguard for many different important individuals until he had a terrible accident and had to be on leave until his injuries had healed, and then got hired as a guard for the castle.

Whether he used to be an actual bodyguard or if he was just one of Dreykov's men, Natasha didn't know, but clearly his credentials were good enough and any background checks had been passed if he was allowed on the Royal Guard. He also seemed to be talented at staying undercover if he hadn't been found out yet, which was good. The last thing she needed was an incompetent man sabotaging the mission.

She'd meet Ivan tomorrow night when the rest of the castle had retired to their rooms, and he'd do whatever he had to do to get the letter to Dreykov without it being intercepted. All she had to do was update Dreykov on how the mission was going so far.

Of course, purposefully leaving out the part where you are a lot different than she had expected. And she fears she may grow to like you, because despite her determination to keep her emotions away from her job; she was a human after all, and humans had feelings, even if the feelings were ultimately unwanted.

general tags: @sheneonromanoff @olicity-boo @r4nd0mgir1 @tigerlillyruiz @dj-bynum3718

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[chasingmidnights]

13 Nights of Halloween: Campfire Stories; Story Three

Title: Puppet Me

Storyteller: Yelena Belova 

Summary: It was supposed to be just a puppet, but it wasn’t. 

A/N: I would like to give a little shout out to my lovely moot/friend Stella (@a-lumos-in-the-nox) for the title inspiration!

Warnings: First of all, 18+, minors DNI! Warnings to look out for would mainly include: angst; mentions of alcohol consumptions/beer; mild cursing; this story is about a ventriloquial figure, so if those freak you out, you’re at your own risk for reading this story; fire; and I believe that’s everything you should look out for. I apologize if I’ve missed anything but you are responsible for what you read and what you consume on the internet. By clicking read more you accept these warnings & any ones that I may have missed. I do not claim to be a professional writer, any and all mistakes are my own, nothing is beta read. 

Wordcount: 1,835

“So, what’s your story about Lena?” Jake asked, giving her wink. 

“Come on Jake, you know I can’t start without Ari, this will be right up his alley.” Yelena smirked before she took a sip of her beer. 

Jake shook his head with a small smile, already knowing what she was planning. “Cruel, cruel woman. I knew there was a reason why I liked you.” 

“What is it?” You asked, your curiosity piqued. 

Just then, Ari had returned and took a seat in his chair next to Andy. Everyone watched him as he adjusted in his chair and ran his fingers through his shaggy, brown hair. He then realized that everyone was staring at him. 

“What?” He asked as he looked around at his friends. 

“Nothing, we were just waiting for you to return.” Natasha smirked. 

“Great, so who’s going next?” Ari asked before reaching for his beer. 

“I am.” Yelena answered with a mischievous grin. “So, is everybody ready?” 

“I know I am.” Jake replied almost instantly, as he got a bit more comfortable in his chair. 

“Alright, so, I wanna say I was around ten or eleven when this happened. Tasha, I think you were away at summer camp or something because I don’t remember you being around for this. But as a small gift for being so good while you were away, dad surprised me with a doll. However, this wasn’t just any kind of doll, it was one of those creepy ventriloquist dummies. I knew just at the first glance at it that something wasn’t right with that doll. I still remember the shiver and the goosebumps that it gave me, not to mention the creepy smile that the doll had. The ventriloquial figure was very haunting looking and was made completely out of wood. It had huge, round eyes where the irises were painted green and its carved wooden hair was styled in a way so that it looked like it was combed back. The creator had decided to dress it in a black, pinstriped suit, with a white dress shirt underneath the vest and jacket and it was completed with a black bow tie and black dress shoes. 

“I remember that as I first studied the figure that I swore it winked at me, causing me to jump back. I remember my father let out a big belly laugh before he set it down on an empty chair in my room. As he walked out of my room, he patted my shoulder and left me alone with the thing. It was a gift, so I couldn’t just toss it in the closest but I definitely wasn’t going to play with the doll. So, I left it sitting on the chair, but as I walked out of the room, I swore I felt its eyes watching me as I left the room. I did my best to ignore the feeling, after all, it was just a puppet. Right? It couldn’t actually hurt me in any way, even though it definitely gave me the feeling that it could do as it wanted. 

“At first, nothing happened. I did my best to ignore the feelings that the doll gave me and told myself that I was being ridiculous. Everything that I thought I saw, I convinced myself that it was just my mind playing tricks on me. For example, if I saw it move on its own or I thought its smile grew or if it winked. Those small movements were only just the beginning though. There was one night, where I had been restless and as I tossed and turned, I swore I heard small feet padding around my room. So, naturally, I turned on the light that was on my bedside table but everything was, well, normal. There was no small creature running around my room and we couldn’t have pets, so there was no way it could have been an animal. As I scanned my room for a possible culprit, I came up empty handed. But then, my eyes landed on the dummy. 

“‘Wait, it wasn’t sitting like that before, was it?’ I had thought to myself as I scrutinized the wooden doll. It had its body positioned towards me and a huge grin on its face. I was sure that I had it facing the other way and it definitely didn’t have that smile. I slowly climbed out of bed and approached the doll, not really sure what to think of the terrifying looking thing. But as soon as it blinked at me, I quickly picked it up and locked it in the closet. Once I had the chair in front of the door, I sprinted back to my bed and pulled the covers over my entire body. I tried to go back to sleep but my mind could only think of one thing, that damn doll. Curiosity and anxiety filled my brain as I couldn’t help but wonder what the thing would do next. 

“I’m not sure how much time had passed but just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard it. My eyes shot open and grew wide with fear as scratching noises came from the closet door. It sounded like an animal that was trapped behind a locked door, desperately wanting to get out. I was frozen with fear, not knowing what I should do next. So, I did what any kid does when they’re terrified, I let out a blood curdling scream to get my parent's attention. Both of them were there in a matter of seconds, with my dad taking the charge. I watched as he turned on the light and all I could do was point towards the closet as I removed the covers. My father let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head before he walked over to the closet. I anxiously watched as my dad removed the chair and as the door creaked open, I half expected the doll to leap out and attack. However, the doll was stiff as a board and showed no signs of life. I could tell my dad wasn’t happy that, at least to him, had gotten woken up for no reason. He grumbled goodnight as he placed the ventriloquial figure back on the chair and went back to bed, shutting the light off on his way out. 

“‘Tricky little thing,’ I remember thinking to myself as I stared at the dummy. The dummy now had an evil scowl on his face as he stared back at me. I should’ve known not to put it in the closet, it clearly didn’t like being put in there. After that night, things started to get worse. The puppet started taunting me as I tried to sleep. I knew I was on my own with this whole ordeal, after the incident with my parents, I knew they didn’t believe me. So, one night, they went out for a date and left me alone with that horrible figurine. I had just finished getting a snack when I returned to my room and it was gone. I heard an evil laugh coming from somewhere inside of the house followed by an eerie, “I’m gonna get you!” A cold shiver ran down my spine as fear took over me. However, I wasn’t going to let this evil toy get to me any longer, I was done with its games. 

“I stood there for a moment to see if I could figure out where the damned thing was located. I could hear the sound of small feet scurrying around the house as it moved from room to room and then I heard a loud clatter coming from the kitchen. I knew then where it was, but I also knew it wasn’t going to be there very long. I sprinted towards the kitchen, but of course by the time I got there, it was already gone. “Come and find me, little girl,” the doll taunted as it freely roamed the house. It seemed that it wanted to play a game with me, one I didn’t want to participate in. I entered the living room cautiously, not knowing where the doll could pop out from. The house was quiet as I listened for it, the only sounds that I heard were the ticking clock and an occasional pop from the fire that was dancing in the fireplace. I stared into the flames of the fire but as I did, I could feel evil eyes watching me. 

“I slowly turned around to look down the hallway and there it was, wearing a mischievous grin and holding one of the kitchen knives. We stood there, staring each other down, daring the other to make the first move. The fire continued to pop and crackle, when suddenly the puppet was charging at me with the knife raised. I glanced back towards the fire as I waited for the figurine to get closer to me. When it started to lunge forward at me, I quickly dove out of the way to dodge it and it screamed out as it landed in the fireplace, the fire instantly started to consume the wooden puppet. Its screams started to gargle and became muffled as it started to melt in the fireplace. I stood up and walked over to the fireplace, my breathing slightly heavy as I watched the wooden, ventriloquial figure burn and as I watched it burn, I swore its expression turned to one of sadness. However, I felt no sympathy for it. After that night, I had a few recurring nightmares where the doll had returned but it never did and I was finally able to sleep peacefully again.” 

Yelena let out a deep, shaky breath as a thick silence surrounded the group. A twig snapped nearby causing everyone to jump or react in some way, but no one jumped quite like Ari did, causing Jake to burst out laughing. 

“Dude, you should see your face right now!” Jake said in between laughs, causing some of the others to laugh as well. 

“Shut up man!” Ari shoved Jake before he took a long drink of his beer. “Everyone is scared of something.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes at the guy’s antics before she turned to her sister. “Why haven’t you told me this before?” 

You sat comfortably next to Steve as the scene unfolded before you, coming down from your own laughing fit from Ari’s reaction. You couldn’t deny that Yelena’s story definitely gave you the wiggins. 

Yelena shrugged her shoulders at her older sister. “I didn’t think you’d believe me, especially since mom and dad didn’t believe me.” 

“Well, I think I’m gonna call it a night. I’ve had enough ghost stories for one night.” Ari said as he finished his beer and headed back towards his tent.

Shortly after, everyone decided to follow suit and went to bed. After all, you and your friends had a long weekend ahead to tell more ghost stories.

[dog-rambles]

Honestly, Ive been meaning to write something about Helluva Boss for a while and uh. I'm in that Writing Mood. So here, have some quick rambles about my thought on HB and worldbuilding and stuff

They'll be under the cut just in case I write too much lol

The way HB fails [hard] with being what it wants to be

First things first: I am not a professional writer at all. I'm just some dog who can write for fun.

Ok. That's out of the way, cool!

So... Helluva Boss, amirite? I think the frustration a lot of detractors/critics have over it (and frankly, I'm amongst these) is how much *potential* it has. It exudes it, and like, if you read 5 different HB rewrites, they will all grab different stuff and run with it, because there's many, many things to tinker with that, in the hands of a well planning writer, could make the series just. Brilliant!

But, let's be real, the series doesn't do that. I'm not original in saying this but, from a plot perspective, HB sucks. It falls flatter than a metal sheet (is that a phrase?) And, hypocritically, it's obvious how Viv prides herself as writing it as revolutionary in ways that the story doesn't even (and forgive me for this) have the balls to be in.

It prides itself in having raw portrayals of queer folks, yet it only lets itself write the same overused "gay ppl + sex = funni" jokes over and over again, it goes and compares it's protagonist Blitz to Bojack Horseman, yet in Helluva Boss the plot bends itself backwards to lift any sort of responsibility that Blitz has for his actions (which is, y'know, NOT what BH does, at all), prides itself of being a female centered plot even though it's obvious how underdeveloped the female characters are compared to the male ones. I could go on and on.

And, in the most sincere, nice way I can conjure, this isn't just the creator being a hypocrite, this is straight-up a symptom of what I think dooms not only this series, but most of the works Vivziepop has done: The story of the thing doesn't know what the fuck it wants to be

Helluva boss is, at least in theory, supposed to be a dark comedy about demon hitmen. Simple concept, lots of stuff to tinker and play with! A lot of ways and directions to take it to, too. But then it tries to be a musical every few episodes. And then a family drama. Sometimes it's an episodic story and sometimes it tries very hard to fit into a season-long arc, depending on the mood. It gives characters some sort of growth just to take it away, and then give them another sort of growth. It defangs and villanizes it's antagonists in a way you just can't help but feel bad for them, because it takes away what made them interesting. The protagonists fuck up and the plot let's you know they fucked up, but then... The consequences of their actions never come!

Blitzo indirectly causes permanent scarring, disability , and trauma on his childhood friend and it causes such a rift that they don't talk in fifteen years, but it's fine! Look! Fizz forgives him in the span of a day after a little chat and now they're friends again :] don't think about it at all :] this is perfectly A-OK and totally not a way of making our poor little Blitzy a victim and Fizz the cunt for not forgiving him until now :]]]

Don't get me started on Barbiewire

Helluva Boss biggest sin is not it's lack of character growth, or it's dumb sex jokes (they ARE bad btw. I'm dying on that hill), or any of that sort. There's many good shows that can pull stuff like that and still be, y'know, good. Or at least mid. It's greatest mistake it's in the way that not only doesn't know what to do with itself, but also wants to do everything without understanding why and how to do it. To bite more that you can chew, if you know.

I have way too many thoughts and criticisms around this funky web series, and I'll probably do more rambles around this specific problem. But I think this is it for me and for now

[paperboy-pb]

"Willful Ignorance" [Life Story]

[Written in August, 2023]

A parent reminded me why I make PB the other night.

For those of you who don't know, I'm a very young creator. 20 in October. And I had one of my co-writers for a different comic ("Weirder Than Usual") over at my place for the weekend. And being the youngest of a hispanic family, my parents have no plans to let me move out anytime soon. When I do leave, it will likely be without their blessing.

I let one parent drive my co-writer back home for the night. I knew I wouldn't be much fun to have in the car that late (I fall asleep pretty early,) and that we wouldn't be free to discuss creative affairs with that parent there, anyway.

I don't like to be myself with this parent around. We are distant. And I keep that distance for a reason.

And despite my absence, this parent reminded me why. Because guess what my cowriter texted me not too long after!

Some hours later, I can't help but think to myself... it's so funny how she stresses my late speech so much. Because now that it's here, it's as if my words don't matter at all.

I will admit my family doesn't know everything that our Special Ed program put me & other children through. But I will ALSO say that that's their own fault. Because as I grew up, I used to tell them every awful thing that I found important. And it was their lack of response that made me stop.

The driver of that car is clueless. She's "forgotten" about the violence that surrounded me in there. Desks crashing to the ground after an adult's angriest shove. Sweaters stretched out and destroyed from middle school fights that nobody broke up.

She's "forgotten" about every time I told her that we weren't learning what we needed to know, insisting that every class must've been doing 3rd grade worksheets in 7th if we were.

She's "forgotten" her 11-year-old asking if he was on the spectrum; how she put on the confused performance of a lifetime as she told me no. But miraculously, she remembers sitting somewhere in the spring of 2005, being told so by professionals.

And she "doesn't remember" us yelling on the phone in 2022. How I spent 80 dollars on an Uber just so we wouldn't share state grounds. And how I screamed for the millionth time, in no uncertain terms, "I AM NOT MAD AT YOU FOR PUTTING ME IN A PROGRAM THAT PROMISED US HELP. You believed them! I know you believed them, they promised you I'd be okay! The problem is that THEY BROKE THAT PROMISE! And every time they did, you just looked the other way!"

Whether she is or isn't being truthful doesn't matter. It's bad on her either way.

Because I know she remembers my dentist reporting bruxism to her when I still had loose teeth. How they would ask her about my environment, or if she knew whether or not anything was stressing me out. And that she chose to question nothing as it continued nightly into my teens. Damaging my adult teeth and concerning all who would sleep in the same room as me. They could hear me all the time. Sometimes my sister would even wake me up.

I know she remembers marking her little one's height against the wall, and seeing the space under his eyes grow darker and darker across the 6th grade.

I know she remembers making leave Autism themed group chats, because to her, my name & that word should never be in the same sentence.

I know she remembers going through his journals and sketchbooks, finding concept art for our Matthew B. And how just one look was enough to make her enroll me to therapy when I was 13.

And she knows that I remember how she hates that boy. Matthew Boston, I mean. And at least one part of her hates everything that he is; disabled, creative, expressive, and headstrong.

I know because she hates those traits in me as well.

Since I spend a lot of time in disability spaces, I try not to assume somebody isn't trying to understand. Comprehension doesn't come easy to everyone. And I especially suspect that she's neurodivergent as well.

But I've tried everything with this one, and I'm truly at the end of my rope. I've tried visuals. I've tried keeping it short and sweet and simple. I've tried having complex and mature conversations where I don't skip a single detail.

I've even tried therapy with her in the room.

Nothing works. And unless this is the convenient work of an undiagnosed memory condition, there's no reason for that.

My Autistic voice matters so little to her that she insists on prying information out of my friends when I'm not in the room; asking the allistic all these questions I've answered myself one thousand times.

She doesn't want to understand. She doesn't want to question her own ableism. Or work past it. And that's why I don't show her "PAPERBOY" at all, and likely won't until years and years from now.

Because PAPERBOY is for the people who do understand. For people who do understand, and everyone who wants to.

[irregularcollapse]

just downloaded the epub of eiat and was reminded of how awesome and amazing you are as like. an Author, capital A. the whole construction is so masterful and i’m so grateful to have witnessed the whole thing build up to what it is. not just the masterful writing and obviously meticulous typeset, but the community of people who love this work. the final chapter can put on my birthday so i’m going to post my adoring comment sobbing about this fics end as soon as i have time to read. thank you forever and always for something that saw me every wednesday like a close and adoring friend through an incredibly tough period of my life!

omg my King

This is the most insanely kind comment, I barely even know what to address first. I guess the most important thing is thank you so much, and I am incredibly flattered and humbled that my writing was such a constant thing for you at a hard time! After all, that's why so many writers write---to share the feeling that writing gives to us.

I guess that hits on why I write fic and share it at all, actually. It's something you've mentioned here: that sense of community. I write to connect with people, to share stories, hopefully to entertain and bring people enjoyment. Getting responses from people like you is such a huge part of feeling part of something, of knowing that what I create means something.

The process of making EIAT was really helpful for me in a lot of ways. It truly cemented something that I've been thinking for a while, which is that traditional publishing just isn't the route I want to go down. I'm not interested in reaching a huge audience; I much prefer this sense of togetherness created when like-hearted people respond to and gather around a creative work.

I put in the effort that I do (and do insanely over-the-top things like learning typesetting, and teaching myself how to sort-of format a reflowable ePub) because I want what I make to be good for the people who find it. I want you all to know that it's for all of you, and myself, and anyone else who finds their way to what I make.

Writing is such a strange creative pursuit. It makes me think of something Miranda July said about film-making:

I thought moviemaking would only really become an artform if anyone could access it, the way anyone can paint or sing or write. Mediums don’t suffer from being available, they evolve. If movies always need a company behind them, they will never really be an art.

What I disagree with her about is, while it's true that writing is a highly accessible medium (it is low-cost, can be done by analogue or digital means, can even be dictated orally exactly as intended), that doesn't mean it's an accessible artform. The divide between amateur and professional is largely what seems to dictate whether someone is seen as a writer (hobbyist) or author (artist).

I dislike a lot of things about the publishing industry. I dislike that authors are increasingly being turned into brands. I dislike that books are being advertised on the basis of their building blocks instead of their execution. I dislike that a social media following is becoming a significant contributing factor to whether a writer's manuscript will get read. I dislike censorship being passed off as editing; I dislike the concept of book "trends;" I dislike that "representation" is becoming a marketing buzzword instead of a crucial storytelling consideration.

However, I love books. I love everything about them, from the conceptual to the physical, from the narrative to the object. What I realised, while working on EIAT, is that I don't need a publisher to be able to make them. In a super-pretentious summation of what I mean, I guess my intention is to reclaim books as an artform, and to demonstrate to anyone who finds my work that you can too.

That's why I've decided to do it all myself (with some necessary proofreading/editing help, hello M I love you sooooooo much), from the planning to the writing to the formatting to the binding. EIAT has been like a trial run of it all, and I can't tell you how creatively fulfilling it has been. I can't wait to actually start and finish work on my own bound copy---to hold this thing in my hands and know that I made it, completely, from the beginning to the end. It will be entirely my vision as I want it to be.

This has turned into a bit of a rambling reply but I sort of just wanted to explain that like. I am so incredibly stoked that you (and other readers like you!!) have enjoyed what I've done so much. I really only want to create lovely things for other people to enjoy, so knowing that I've done that is all I need <3 Thank you again, for this message. You've absolutely made my day!

[newtonsheffield]

Hi Molly! Just want to let you know how grateful I am for you and your work. I’ve become an avid tumblr user because I can’t get enough of your commentary and little snippets. I’m so grateful for all the work you put into this fandom and everything you do is incredible. If you feel it’s time for you to retire, this whole fandom will support you, but know that you are amazing and we appreciate all the hard work you put in❤️❤️❤️

Anonymous asked:

Molly, I hope you don’t stop writing. I can’t imagine how difficult it is to be criticized for something you’re putting out there with love and enthusiasm and for free. But I hope the enjoyment you give to so many of us balances out the negativity at least a little. To me, your stories have been the balm to the show’s shitty handling of Kanthony and I can’t get enough of them. But if you do decide to step away, I understand and will always be grateful for the beautiful fics you’ve given us.

Anonymous asked:

Bestie! Please don't ever retire 😭😭😭 I would miss you too much ❤️❤️❤️

Anonymous asked:

The more your stories are great and the more you become popular, the more trolls will attack you out of jealousy. Take their complaints as a compliment.

Anonymous asked:

Hi Molly. So sorry to hear that you have been getting negative comments that made you maybe doubt how good your writing is.

Please know that there are people who love your stories. Your critics might have some valid points and it's also fine if they provide constructive criticism. However, despite all the flaws, your stories are amazing. I love your writing and fics, I will be honest I am not a fan of all of them but there are many that I adore. Some people might love the storieae I don't and vice versa. And that's okay, not every fic is for everyone. We can choose to read what we like and leave the others alone.

It's true that the fandom has amazing writers and we are blessed that they also love to write about our fav characters. But it's not a competition, all of you can continue to write and all of these writers, including you, bring something unique to the fandom. And there is space for everyone here.

So I am not sure if my rambling made any sense, but what I am trying to say is please do not stop writing just because some people do not like your stories. Heck, I say keep writing if it makes even one person happy, if it makes you happy.

Impatiently waiting for thenext update.

Love💗💗💗💗

P.S. Could you please give extra treatos to Greggy for just being adorable...

Anonymous asked:

Molly, you were kidding about retiring. Right? Right?? *starts sweating*

Okay, I'm just gonna answer these all at once and tie a bow around it so it's done.

I'm not planning on stopping at this point, No, but it is something that's crossing my mind more and more frequently.

I think the thing is, and what all Fic writer's feel is: There's a difference between constructive criticism and messages that say Hi I Don't like this. Just as there's a difference between Movies that are bad and Movies I am not interested in. I cannot abide Fast and Furious movies but I'm not telling people that like them that they're trash. There's a difference.

Not every AU I write is going to be for every person. This is an objective fact. And you're under no obligation to enjoy anything I write: What isn't necessary is commenting on it.

Fic Writers put a lot of time and energy into creating content that is free and accessible and with that comes a certain expectation that it's going to be of a slightly lower quality than a published work, because it's an amateur production. This is like expecting a hard hitting article on late stage capitalism from the Barbie magazine. It's not the space for it.

That's not to say there are not some amazing writers and writers that do write professionally posting on Ao3, of course there are. But expecting that from me, who has a Bachelor of Dental Surgery is... amazing writing just isn't going to come from me! I am a Barbie Magazine journalist. We must accept it.

Anyway, all this to say: Criticism can be constructive. Rudeness is not.

[upagainstthesunset]

Thinking about Death of the New Gods and how it makes me feel bad. Or: I had to read this terrible interview, so now you do too.

Jim Starlin wrote these characters in the past, notably in Cosmic Odyssey, which I did not enjoy. I don't know a lot about Starlin and his work other than that he was a very active comics writer, and hes created some well known Marvel characters.

I've long wondered why Final Crisis needed to start with the New Gods dying. Especially when Final Crisis #1 seemed like a totally different thing going on. I heard somewhere that Starlin's work was not necessarily in line with Grant Morrison's plans. I get there was this concept of ushering in the Fifth World, but boy did DotNG go in a weird direction to get there. Why have it be a murder mystery? Why have these characters who care and love for each other go through such an ordeal? And why, WHY have the Source be a floating ball with a cheeky attitude that was apparently never behind the final barrier or the wall? Maddening.

No, seriously: everything you think you know about the Source is wrong. This is the part that the really fanatical Kirby fans are simply going to hate.

- Jim Starlin, Interview with Newsarama 2007

The really fanatical fans? I'm wondering what fans of the time actually liked the story and what was done with the Source. So based on this interview Starlin did, it sounds like some of the direction came from Dan DiDio (makes sense sadly), but that he himself was totally in favor of killing off the New Gods anyway.

I sort of think of this project as putting an ending to Jack's New Gods' saga. Since Kirby's initial run on the characters others have presented them with mixed results. Looking back I'd say at least half of the past New Gods series have done more harm than good. So for me, Death of the New Gods is half honoring Jack Kirby, half mercy killing.

- Jim Starlin, Interview with Newsarama 2007

Let those words sink in.

Yeah so, I just really dislike how someone could treat not only fans, but the work of other fellow comics writers with such disdain. And then to claim that this "mercy killing" is simultaneously honoring Kirby somehow. So upsetting and just plain disheartening.

So why am I writing about this? Because I'm a Metron fan and I can't think about this stupid Final Crisis lead in without thinking about Metron. I mean, my tumblr header is edited art from the series, believe it or not. And I do own DotNG floppies, one of which is displayed on my wall (placeholder for when I get New Gods 1971 #1 someday). So yeah there are constant reminders.

And the reason I've given this series a couple read-throughs (which is a couple more than it deserves), is because it was at the time considered canon, and for these characters I enjoy it's integral to what was going on for them at that time. The story makes me mad, a lot of the characterizations make me mad. But I have to admit it is what we were given, and it is a part of the New Gods history. Like it or not. And sadly, I come back to it now and again because it's one of the few comics that gives Metron a large chunk of focus. And that also makes me mad.

We all know Starlin liked Metron enough to inspire Thanos, but here in DotNG we see the Source straight up saying, "You were always my favorite of the New Gods." At first that line made me laugh. I feel the same way. But I cannot ignore the rest of the story just for a few bright moments. And then of all of the New Gods (except Darkseid), Metron is the last one alive, dying finally at his own request. So this knowledge makes me mad because it means Starlin truly was a Metron fan. There's not many of us out there. Just me and maybe some random other people scattered across the internet, and a handful of professional comics writers that I dislike, all grouped into one unholy bundle :/ That's the upsetting thing about this. It's me and Jim Starlin, Metron fans. That's the company I'm in. :(

So anyway, this is all to say I have incredibly mixed feelings (mostly negative) about DotNG, and I wish so much that the writers who like Metron and want to put him on the page weren't Like That.

I'm putting the full interview under a read more for safe keeping.

The Wikipedia reference links are broken but I found the interview in a message board from July 26, 2007.

JIM STARLIN: FERRYMAN OF THE NEW GODS

by Steve Ekstrom

In February of 1971, Jack Kirby introduced DC Universe to the New Gods and Fourth World books. After years of failed revamps and re-boots, critically acclaimed industry legend Jim Starlin gives them a proper burial in October with the release of The Death of The New Gods eight issue mini-series by Jim Starlin.

So far of course, the death toll sits at "one" currently-Lightray was mysteriously killed in Countdown #48.

As most hardcore fans of Kirby's Fourth World will know, the New Gods played a central role in DC's Cosmic Odyssey which was also penned by Starlin. Newsarama sat down and talked to Starlin about his upcoming project and he elaborated elaborate on some interesting objects featured in DC's second Countdown teaser image; as well as, just how dead the New Gods are really about to be.

Newsarama: It's been indicated that the New Gods play a very crucial role in Countdown--can you elaborate as to where your story starts or picks up?

Jim Starlin: Let's see, Lightray died early on in Countdown. I'm not sure which Countdown week The Death of the New Gods begins, but as I understand it, several other New God characters appear in various DC comics before my series begins. I never use any of these said characters in my series. To my knowledge, no one plans to use any of the characters I use in Death of the New Gods, other than Superman. You do the math.

NRAMA: In his interview about the first Countdown teaser image, Dan Didio spelled out the writing on the wall--Big Barda and Mr. Miracle's feet are touching the ground--and touching the ground means you don't make it out of Countdown--so to speak. Is your project, "The Death of the New Gods" a literal massacre or more of a metaphorical change in the status quo of Jack Kirby's Fourth World legacy--or both?

JS: Dan's the boss. Myself, I sort of think of this project as putting an ending to Jack's New Gods' saga. Since Kirby's initial run on the characters others have presented them with mixed results. Looking back I'd say at least half of the past New Gods series have done more harm than good. So for me, Death of the New Gods is half honoring Jack Kirby, half mercy killing.

NRAMA: Black Racer's broken skis and a Mother Box of sorts are pictured on the ground in the second Countdown teaser image; care to throw in your "two cents" with an observation about this particular portion of the larger image?

JS: Didn't realize that was a Mother Box until hearing your question. You know they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. As for the Black Racer clue—well, the Racer was easily my least favorite of the New Gods. So no one should be surprised to learn he doesn't last long in Death of the New Gods. Never could figure out what Kirby was thinking when he created this one. He should have been gotten rid of a long time ago. Then again, that's just my opinion.

NRAMA: Can readers expect to find answers in regards to the more vague aspects of New Gods mythology and status quo? Will there finally be a peek behind the Source Wall at The Source?

JS: Big plans for the Source. You'll never guest whose father he turns out to be. No, seriously: everything you think you know about the Source is wrong. This is the part that the really fanatical Kirby fans are simply going to hate.

NRAMA: Will Mr. Miracle divulge the secret of the Anti-Life Equation or will he be taking that to his deathbed?

JS: Circumstances will get Scott using the Anti-Life Equation freely and to his own detriment. Won't say anymore than that.

NRAMA: Who are some characters for readers to keep their eyes on during Countdown and The Death of the New Gods who will provide insight into what's coming down the pipe for the DC Universe?

JS: Well, coming out of Death of the New Gods, I guess, the only one that it makes any sense keeping an eye on is Superman. He was strictly on loan and I had to promise not to break him.

NRAMA: If the end is nigh for the New Gods, where do Darkseid and Apokolips weigh in? Or are they in danger as well?

JS: I'm not sure why folks keep asking me questions like this. The name of the series is The Death of the New Gods, not The Death of Some of the New Gods.

NRAMA: Got it. Finally, then, will this project lead to a re-iteration of the New Gods in the foreseeable future? Or do you think it is time to close the final chapter on an old idea and try a new concept?

JS: DC owns the rights to the character's names. There's some great names there. What do you think?

[zalrb]

the summer i turned pretty 2x05 review - this should be WAY messier than it is

I was talking to @jewels20 about this horrible show and we were laughing because I was like, idk everyone is insufferable except Conrad who doesn't have enough of a personality to be insufferable, he's just around being sad and everyone hates him for it. Like, he's just THERE trying to deal with his mother's death, guys. He hasn't actually DONE anything. He's just a guy. Who's sad. And I just find it really funny because they frame as like this enigma or this asshole and I'm just like idk, he just seems sad.

No more recaps, I'm a professional.

I was like what does the opening tune of the show remind me of because I swear I've heard something like it and I realized it reminds me of season 1 YOU.

It's even in the little things, if Jere is supposed to be frenzied running up the stairs, then RUN up the stairs, this is a light jog, sir, you might as well just walk.

I don't know what he's looking for. If everything is gone downstairs, it seems only natural that things would be gone upstairs too.

"Everything's gone" I mean ... LOOK AROUND?

This is the most emotion Conrad has shown and it's not even mediocre, it just SEEMS decent in the context of how flat everyone -- including him -- usually is.

Again this whole fight should be a FIGHT, talk over one another, if you're trying to stop Conrad from railing up on Skye, Conrad actually has to come in with that energy, wrench away, everything is SO careful, too careful for this to have the energy needed to match Jeremiah's monotonous voiceover about everything be fucked.

Why is this dude -- the festival worker dude -- STILL here? How does this have anything to do with you?

Jere: I DON'T LOOK UP TO MY BIG BROTHER ANYMORE AFTER THIS YEAR. I CAN TAKE CHARGE also Jere: KEEPS tapping a key card as if it'll suddenly unlock the door after it's been rejected like ten times.

"My mom works the randomnest hours so that alone should..." then why didn't you say this after the, like, sixth time Jeremiah tried to use his clearly deficient key card?

I need Belly's brother to shut up.

"Are you OK?" *Conrad proceeds to explain how he's feeling* have the writers ever written before? I...

"That invisible force between the two of them" WHERE? WHERE?

W H E RE?

"And it's tearing her up that you haven't responded to her texts since last summer" that is not what I saw. I saw her make a frowny face.

"Like it hurts, my chest physically hurts to not be able to tell her that I'm in love with her" then I need MORE than what I am SEEING. If you're going to have this kind of dialogue have the energy to match it.

"And my genius plan to stay pissed at her and keep her at arm's length is a failure" Yeah we saw that already, why are we rehashing in a voiceover? Also why was it a failure though because she didn't really do anything to make you crumble? Like ... none of these dynamics are believable or earned. They're all so hollow.

"You do have a flair for the epic." It's a screening room.

Yeah, they are marginally less terrible than her and Conrad. I kind of almost believe this

more than the beach anyway. And when they stop and do the stare I believe that more than when she and Conrad stop and do the stare.

How on the nose, The Apartment on the projector when Belly is beginning the process of switching brothers. Again. (It's a "don't slut shame" message for the viewer).

"She'd go all out. She'd pick a theme and pick three movies in a row" unless it's watching the director's cut of LOTR back-to-back-to-back that is not boast worthy. That's just a classic binge and I don't even really consider that a binge. A fourth movie would be a binge.

You can put The Apartment up on the projector all you want, Belly is messy for this. So is Jere.

Oh this Taylor/Steven scene looks long, I am skipping it.

"I know she missed having you as a friend" oh honey, she's switched over now.

"I wanted to call you" "I wish you would've. I would've answered. I would've come' right but you said nothing to him during holiday dinner? LOL OK BELLY.

Guys, she's horrible. I'm sorry, but she really is.

Honestly, if you write out the plot, this show should be WILD, like Belly likes Conrad and kisses his younger brother Jeremiah because of reasons then Conrad is like hey I like you so she kisses Conrad like, what, a day later, two days later, the same day? Then she tells Jere hey I actually want to be with your brother then gets with said brother, sleeps with said brother, breaks up with said brother because he was sad at prom, tells said brother to go to hell and that she hates him at his mother's wake, then proceeds to start crushing on Jeremiah again? THIS SHOULD BE A ROLLERCOASTER.

lol Conrad does nooooooot care that Jere's pissed.

The minute I saw the golf cart I was like, oh good, another DC reference.

"I think I loved Conrard longer and true than anyone in my whole life" I mean you're like 5 minutes old, Belly, who could you have possibly loved longer?

And dialogue like this would be fine if I thought the show tapped into what it feels like to be a teenager in love, like Dawson's Creek really tapped into how you feel at 15/16, how heightened everything can be, all the hyper-dramatic emotions so that when Dawson and Joey are like YOU ARE MY SOULMATE and Pacey and Joey are like YOU HAVE MY FUTURE, YOU HAVE MY HEART and Pacey and Andie are like YOU ARE MY HERO I'm like yes, that makes sense.

Even Allison and Scott, like yeah, that's a first love

and Crystal sells it with HOW she speaks about him

"Cause I don't know if I can survive that" AGAIN where is the DRAMA? WHERE was this love she could never recover from? I SHOULD BE GETTING THIS ENERGY

oh this show pisses me off.

Skye and Cam Cameron have the most solid dynamic and they're barely side characters.

"I'll text her right now" you shouldn't text your teacher/authority figure at night, Belly. But why am I surprised when she doesn't have any boundaries.

Skye: "We worked so hard on this" they have the most conviction out of everyone there.

"It's pretty clear to me now that I never actually did" Why? Because he gave her a noogie.

This show is so unserious.

And the coach should not be replying at night either.

she cannot be serious.

I don't think she's supposed to be as insufferable as she is.

The house is sold.

[connorsjorts]

thank you for tagging me @sweeteatercat and @rk800-is-hot-change-my-mind !

no bingo for me :(

because i enjoy reading people's comments on these things:

does it count as unbeta’d if only like 25% of it got a second look? mall santa was the first thing I ever finished and was too scared for anyone to read it before posting so mr jorts beta’d the first chapter for me but he was nervous about the smut so didn’t go any further lol (oh my sweet summer child. he has read everything i’ve written since)

literally everything i’ve ever written is self-indulgent

i don’t love researching, but i do it. i have learned more about mall santas than i ever wanted to know

outlining makes things harder for me (hence my struggles with my bb fic ladkja.) i like to discover the story as i go along. but i do plan out the character arcs beforehand to keep myself on track

people who draw fanart for fics are angels who walk among us and i owe them my life

in addition to my bb fic I have 12k of an eventually 75k human!connor/human!hank/HK800 fic written that i genuinely really love 😭 i am determined to finish it someday. yes hank jerks off in his car in this one too

i edit as i go, so it’s relatively painless for me

i am baffled that any of my fics have gotten any attention at all

i use the words “professional writer” extremely loosely. i know from experience that i hate making art for money but also this is the only thing I’m good at. i do know i want to spend my life telling stories

thanks for reading my babbles! idk who’s done this already so if you want to do it consider yourself tagged 💖✨ 

template under the cut

[diablo-that-first-spark]

What's in store for Act IV?

Welcome cupcakes! I hope everyone is having a wonderful 2024 so far. If you have gotten this far in reading, I reckon you’d like to know what is going on with the fanfic, right? This is a status update on that very topic. No, That First Spark is not dead, don’t worry! This hiatus is entirely planned, although I wish I could tell you how long it will last. Months more than likely, maybe a year? This is all very new territory for me, forgive me, cupcakes.

TL;DR version: the final act needs massive amounts of pre-planning compared to the previous parts, and I also need to weed out potential storylines I really want in there, but don’t actually have a place in there (but may end up in a spin-off). Unfortunately, I am also not that good at pre-planning stories because I am a Discovery/Gardener type of writer, and boy oh boy, going into details before setting out on the road is not our forte.

So that is why I am asking for your patience, cupcakes! TFS is not dead until I say it is dead. In the meantime I have ideas to fill in the pause: illustrations of previous chapters; concept art; idea blurb posts; general personal tactics and philosophies on writing. Ideas, may I emphasize. These would be uploaded to my DeviantArt gallery and here (and later Blogger when I build that out) – links at the end!

If this is where you stop reading (understandable), then have a lovely rest of your day and keep being awesome!

For those who are interesting in the detailed explanation, here’s the long version:

A good question to ask is: it’s just fanfiction, why don’t I just go for it, screw the planning phase? Who cares if the act is filled to the brim with stuff, we are here to have fun!

Absolutely fair point to make. We are here to have fun, and I hope my fanfic has provided that so far, if you are here reading this! Unfortunately, it is not that simple situation on my end.

For one, I actually want to be a professional writer one day (I actually have the basis of three entirely original series figured out too!) and because of that, fanfiction is not just a place for me to have fun (although I am certainly often having the time of my life here), but it is first and foremost a training ground. I want to get better at writing and so I do my best to employ professional practices in all of my works. One of those practices is the infamous “Kill your Darlings” tactic, which involves getting rid of characters, storylines, scenes, entire worldbuilding elements which you really really love and/or worked hard on… but they just don’t have a place in the story proper.

Thus, Act IV is going to go through a whole bunch of darling-culling, from the looks of it. I want too much right now and it genuinely looks like one of those terrible Hollywood blockbusters: half-a-day long runtime yet still not enough to address everything that happens in the film. They tend to piss me off and I want to avoid making the same mistake if I can help it. Just to illustrate why Act IV needs pre-planning: Act III originally had a whole arch where Tyrael, Quiet and Zayl would have traveled across the war-torn desert around Caldeum, dealing with shitty mages and the necromancers Rathma would send against them, can you believe that? Yeah, that is the kind of wild swings in plans I need to avoid in Act IV as much as possible. I probably can’t avoid them entirely, given the Discovery writing style, but they can certainly be cut back.

Will all those darlings disappear forever? Not necessarily, actually. Some will, absolutely, because they prove to be just terrible ideas on the long run. But there are some ideas, unfortunately quite vague so far, that could actually turn into a spin-off series next to TFS. It depends on a lot of factors, so I’m afraid I can’t say or promise anything concrete, cupcakes. But the dream is alive!

For two, writing TFS takes insane amounts of time and effort, and I want to give myself a chance to finish this story in the near future. Now please don’t get me wrong, cupcakes, I do not regret in the slightest that I have embarked on this journey. I wouldn’t trade the time spent writing about Lyndon, Quiet, Tyrael, Malthael, Abd and everyone else, for anything in this world. I have learnt so damn much about myself and my style, writing in general, the lore of Diablo and historical facts of the real world. I have met truly horrible and truly amazing people through this story and for almost an entire year I could maintain a regular upload schedule, these are all very valuable experiences.

But on the other hand, there is no denying the time TFS consumes. I want to eventually write other, original stories (and hopefully make a good living out of them), I want to tackle other larger projects and Anu knows what else life will throw at me on the long run outside of creative ventures. I may one day learn to juggle multiple projects at once and progress in all of them effectively, that would be great. But for now, that is unfortunately not part of my skillset.

Yeah, I know I just talked about a possible spin-off story because Anu help me, I’m always so hopeful about my creative projects and I love Diablo’s world so much. Time constraints and my own abilities are two of the many factors that would decide the fate of that idea.

And let us not forget your time is valuable as well, cupcakes! You are absolute troopers for making it this far, and I am grateful beyond words to all of you for spending your time with my work, and even more so if you even leave comments along the way! But I know you have other stories to get to, other worlds to explore and people to meet. And yes, sure, reading one chapter every month or few months isn’t that demanding. But I have always believed, even before I thought about becoming a professional, that a writer should know when to end a story. Stretching that out, endlessly adding more and more plot points, characters and stakes which exponentially increase in ridiculousness, is a certified death sentence in my eyes. (Hells, I’m already on thin ice regarding the stakes, considering the main character is basically a creator god…)

Yes, I know this is a personal opinion, some people genuinely love decade-spamming tales, and hey, more power to those people! Sail those seas for as long as you are able!

TFS is not going to be one of those stories, and I hope it will be all the better for it.

So, to summarize my goals during this hiatus:

- Nail down the basic storyline of Act IV with as few future wild swings in the plan as possible. I will be mostly employing the lessons of Save the Cat! Writes a Novel by Jessica Brody, if anyone would like to learn as well. That book is my personal Bible, no questions.

- Kill a city state’s worth of Darlings. See if any of them can be saved into a spin-off story. No promises, only dreams.

- Build up a buffer of chapters before I start uploading. I am most afraid of this challenge if I can be honest with you, cupcakes.

- In the meantime, possible ideas to fill out the hiatus: illustrated scenes from previous chapters; concept art of characters; idea blurb posts; general personal tactics and philosophies on writing. Again, just ideas.

I have no idea how long the hiatus will last. I have a feeling I should take a bit of a break from Diablo as a whole, but I still have a 19-page fancomic to finish about the Angiris Council, good lord. It will be posted to my DeviantArt gallery for sure by the way! :D

And to here as well IF I don’t nuke that bastard and move to Blogger by the time it is finished. (There will be a post here when that happens, it will be up for a year at least, don’t worry about missing it)

Back on track…

I can’t even give you cupcakes an estimate, I have never done anything like this before. I’m flying blind but bloody Hells, bring it on! >:D If you wait out the hiatus, I love you for it. If you give up on the fic, I totally understand it and I thank you for your time up to this point!

So, thank you for reading, thank you for your patience, and hopefully we will see each other soon with the first proper chapter of Act IV! Lilith needs some proper ass-whooping, and I shall deliver, cupcakes! Take care and keep being awesome!

2024.03.07.

[sodobabe]

Never Fall for the Guitarist pt. 1

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm not new to Tumblr but I am new to the Ghost fandom and am an avid writer. I thought I would share some of my works with you all. Once I get the hang of this, I will take requests. For now, enjoy!

Summary: (Y/N) has been chosen for their dream job. Will they put their job on the line for the love of their life?

Warnings: Sexual language. Minors DNI!! Angsty Swiss. Fluffy Dewdrop.

I had always longed to be a photographer for Ghost. I lived just outside of the Abbey and had been to so many concerts I lost count but each time, all I wanted to do was snap breathtaking photos of them. What I didn’t realize is that my dream would soon come true. I was fresh out of college. I had a degree in digital media with a minor in photography. It was my hobby. I took photos of everything and anything. I started applying to jobs and was feeling giddy enough to apply to be a photographer for Ghost. I cautiously filled out the application, being sure to be as detailed in my skills as possible. Submit. It was done. I submitted the application and sat back with my hot cup of tea to take in the possible life changing step I just took.

Three days passed. I had started to think that I would never hear back from any of the places I applied. That isn’t unusual in this day and age as employers are lackadaisical when it comes to reviewing applications. Ping. I grabbed my phone and saw an email notification. Before I could even read it, I threw my phone back on the couch. I was nervous. What if they don’t want me. What if they don’t think my photography is good enough. The thoughts were racing through my mind until I finally picked up my phone again and opened the email. 

“Dear (Y/N), we were thoroughly impressed by your exquisite photography portfolio and previous work experience that you have shown. We would like to extend an invitation to you for an interview on Wednesday, June 25. Please let us know if this time does not work for you and we can reschedule.  

Best regards, Ghost Management”

Holy shit! They want to meet with me. They want to interview me. What the hell am I doing on June 25 because those plans are canceled. I quickly hit the reply button and told their management that June 25 was a perfect date for an interview. Now I have to find the perfect professional outfit, so they don’t think I’m a slob before I even get the job. 

The week passed painfully slowly. I set my alarm for 7 a.m. to ensure I had time to get a shower, and make sure I was as presentable as I could be. After all, this is a dream opportunity, and I would hate to jeopardize it. After all was said and done, I picked up my phone and checked the time. 9 a.m. Perfect timing. I calmly walked out of my house and got into my car. Typically, I blast music even if I am just driving two minutes up the road to the gas station for a late night slushie run. Not today. Today I drove in complete silence as thoughts raced through my brain.

I pulled into the parking lot of the grey stone building and checked in the mirrors to make sure I still looked good, which I did, then I ever so calmly exited my car. I made my way into the building and asked the very kind sister where I needed to go for my interview. She so graciously led me down a hallway and into a room at the end. I was greeted by a tall, slim woman who was the epitome of beauty standards.

“Hi there! You must be (Y/N). My name is Sister Imperator, and I am the head of Ghost’s management,” she said enthusiastically.

“Hi! It is so nice to meet you,” I replied, trying to hide my nervousness. 

She motioned for me to take a seat and asked me all of the questions that one would expect in an interview. Why do you think you're right for this position? Do you have experience photographing moving objects? Etc. I gave her my best answers to those questions, and she abruptly stood up.

“Welcome to the team, (Y/N),” she said with a large smile plastered across her face. “Before we see what kind of talent you have, let’s introduce you to the band,” she continued. 

Holy shit. It’s happening. I am meeting my favorite band of all time and cannot fangirl because I have to appear professional. My thoughts were quickly interrupted when in walked 8 figures who towered over me. I knew who all of them were, but they were going to introduce themselves anyway because they didn't know that. 

They stood in a line and from left to right introduced themselves. Copia was first, followed by Dewdrop, Swiss, Mountain, Rain, Aether, Cirrus, and Cumulus. Seven of the members left the room to get back to practice but Dewdrop stuck around. He was the shortest and, in my opinion, the most handsome of the four. There he was standing at his height of 5'8" with his mask only showing his gorgeous blue eyes. He was slender with a little muscle tone to his arms and thighs from performing so much. Oh, how I could’ve melted into a puddle at that very given moment. 

He stepped closer to me and gently placed his hand on my waist to guide me out of the room and show me to the practice room. His hand was warm. I could feel his body heat radiating into my skin. I had a fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Little did he know that I dream about him from time to time. The only problem was that now I could never be with him so long as I held my job title. Rule number four in the contract was that employees were to have no relations with band members, or they would be immediately terminated. Was I willing to break that rule and pray I don’t get caught? Hell yes, I was but I seriously doubt Dew would go for it. 

I snapped out of my sexual thoughts as Dewdrop welcomed me into the practice room. It was larger and darker than what I had expected but if I’m being honest, I wasn’t even sure what I was expecting. Their instruments were all in their designated spaces. Everything was neat and tidy. The only light that was provided was the sun that shined in through the cracks in the blinds. 

As I stood there in awe, once again my thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice. It was Dew again. He seemed to be the most sociable.

 “Well are you going to just stand there or are you going to show us what you got?” he said with a smug look on his face, followed by a wink. 

If I hadn’t eaten that morning, I may have passed out from the lack of oxygen from holding my breath after the wink. 

I simply nodded toward him and picked up my camera. They got busy right away playing a few songs that I already knew. I snapped so many photos I thought I was going to break the camera. That’s how I capture the best photos. Take hundreds and choose ten. As I was so entranced by doing my job, I almost missed the fact that they were playing a new song. I continued capturing digital moments when a fight broke out between Dew and Swiss. 

“I don’t fucking understand why you can’t keep up with your stupid guitar,” Swiss spat at Dew. He was significantly taller than Dew, standing at 6'2" and he must have kept all his temper in his frame. 

“Well maybe if you and Papa weren't singing ahead of the instruments, you would realize how it’s supposed to sound but no, we have to do everything on your time." Dew snapped back.

I couldn’t help but interrupt and set my camera down. 

“Ghouls, I don’t mean to step out of line, but I cannot do my job if you all are fighting because I don’t think fans want to see you all spitting comebacks at each other,” I calmly said. 

“Mind your own business, new meat,” Swiss practically growled at me. 

Dew obviously did not like this as he lunged at him. 

“Don’t you dare talk to them like that. They are doing us a service and we should treat them with the utmost respect.” Dew sternly told Swiss.

“Oh, give me a break Dew. You’re just thinking with your dick once again because that’s all you ever do. That’s why we can’t keep any employees because you can’t help but stick your stupid penis in them and they aren’t smart enough to keep it a secret. I’m sure this one will be just as dumb as the rest of them,” Swiss spouted off as he raised his arm in my general direction, ending the argument but Dew was more concerned about the fact that I swiftly left the room. 

I didn’t want to run as I didn’t want to draw more attention to myself than I already had. I found my way into the restroom and locked myself in. I backed up against the wall and slid down with my hand on my chest trying to catch my breath. What they never tell you is how different your favorite band is to what you actually imagine. A minute or two passed when there was a gentle knock on the door. I thought I was hearing things, so I ignored it and continued to even my breathing. Knock knock. There it was again. 

“(Y/N)? It’s Dew. Are you okay?” he asked in a gentle, worried tone. 

I let out a sniff and replied with a quiet “no.” 

“Well, can you let me in so we can talk it out?” he asked politely.

I pulled myself up off the comforting cold ground and unlocked the door. Dew gently opened it, making sure not to be too harsh with his movements. I threw on a fake smile to try and mask my true emotions.

“You can pretend to smile all you want but I can tell how Swiss’ words impacted you,” Dew said as he took a small step toward me. 

“Can I be honest with you, Dew?” I said after a deep breath. 

He nodded.

“I love you all as a band. I am a big fan and have been to so many of your shows that I have lost count at this point. I thought it would be a dream come true to work for you but after that little episode, other than you, the band members were nothing that I had thought,” I said shakily while meeting Dew’s eyes. 

He gave me a warm smile and said, “That’s because our photographers do their job well. We fight everyday but our photographers know to keep the ugly stuff out of the media. Just like you said, our fans don’t want to see us fighting. As far as what Swiss said about us, I don’t plan on using you like that. You’re different, (Y/N). You have a deeper intelligent personality than most of the ditsy people that come in here and work for us. I have personally seen your work and I am in awe of your talents. I want to know you for who you are, and I know we aren’t allowed to have relationships with our employees, but I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

How the hell do I say no to that? All I did was smile, nod my head, and say, “I have secrets nobody knows about, I’m sure I could keep this under the table.” 

Dew nodded and pulled me into a tight hug, my face squishing against his chest. I couldn’t help but notice his smell. Slightly sweaty with a more noticeable sandalwood scent. 

“Here’s my phone number,” he said as he handed me a card. “Text me when you get home, and I will come over. We can discuss how we will go about this relationship.” he continued. 

I nodded and put the card into my pocket before going back to the practice room, waving goodbye to the other members, grabbing my bag, and starting my venture home. 

[galactic-pirates]

1, 14 and 21 for the ask game, please!

1) what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

I am unfortunately an honest person so this might be a bit of an over share I don’t know. I’m not very good at judging so I apologise in advance. I’m going to put it under a cut as it’s quite personal.

- being undiagnosed autistic for 26 years. This is probably by far the biggest slice of the ‘what shaped me’ pie. I was me - I am me - and I have never known different and so I thought life was just like this. That I couldn’t cope, that I was weird and always unwanted, all my failures I assumed that they were mine - that I was just wrong and bad and I learned to deeply hate myself. I broke. I have had 3 mental breakdowns and got worse each time. I now have a reason for why I struggle but I have these learned patterns of behaviour that I can’t shake. The self-loathing is in my bones, the depression and anxiety are intense. It’s not like that for all autistics but because I didn’t know. Yeah :/ it’s a real problem and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to let go, as I have never let go of anything in my life. I am stuck just getting worse and worse :(

- mum was my grandparents carer. I debated whether to put this in black and white. Mum doesn’t know my tumblr but I would hate for her to think I blamed her for anything. Absolutely not. Mum did the best she could, she always did the right thing, I support her totally. But it would be incorrect to say there were no consequences. I was a child and though mum insists it wasn’t true, I felt that my grandparents came first. On times I felt resentful like about Christmas plans or something, I then felt immediate shame and guilt about how I had thought it wasn’t fair, as it wasn’t about me. I do feel it has taught me to always put everyone else’s wishes above my own and to feel a lot of guilt about being any kind of burden, or even just existing in a space because surely I must be trouble.

- being on disability. A lot of self-loathing does come from this, that I am not contributing to society. But there’s also a hefty dose of fear. I am not in control of my situation. At any time the rules could change on me. I’m afraid of everything constantly. I mean fear is the singular constant in my life. But disability is definite constant low level anxiety, forever in the back of my mind. It never leaves me. I hate it. If I could get a job and leave it behind I would.

14) what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

Go places. I’m virtually agoraphobic. I have panic attacks in the local supermarket. That’s the first thing that comes to mind. There’s a couple of science museums in London which look so cool, or there’s the Lego House.

But I think my real answer is to write professionally. True I mostly talk about novels and I did an attempt at indie publishing, but that was short-lived and I suppose I want to feel good enough. I didn’t give it a fair enough shake back then to tell if the market would eventually approve of me or not. However I have shied away from even trying since. I don’t expect they would have paid much but I have seen openings for staff writers a handful of times on sites I read everyday like WoWHead or BrickFanatics. I have contemplated sending in an application but haven’t dared. Honestly I’m not sure if I am more scared of rejection or success. I know rejection is a hell of a lot more likely obviously but I was just too afraid of the possibility of any kind of response.

21) are you a spiritual person?

Not really no. Death is something that terrifies me. Not for me but for losing mum. Sometimes I wish I did have some kind of faith. The closest thing to comfort I have in that sphere is the second law of thermodynamics, that energy can neither be created or destroyed. Yes I am quoting from an Agents of Shield episode but the sentiment really stuck with me. That everything that is, used to be something else, and will be something else again.

Thanks for the ask ❤️ sorry that I got a bit heavy there but hey you asked the questions.