#forming long things like this where i need to explain my thought process is hard

[bettertwin1]

ASSIGN YOUR FAMILY A SCOOBY DOO CHARACTER, GO!

Fred - Donnie, HAH, BET YOU WERE EXPECTING ME TO SAY HE'D BE VELMA WELL NO. listen, yeah, on the outside, he probably would fit Velma the most, but exploring Donnie entirely as a person <- (and with my knowledge of growing up with the guy), he's Fred. He believes in the paranormal, and he has these elaborate plans, theories, and inventions towards solving things just like Fred. "But Leo! Fred is bone headed and the leader!!" <- (nobody said ever, and if you did, i mean, you're right in some iterations, but...) to that I say, nuh uh, Fred's smart in his own way and I like to argue that none of them are really the leader at all, they usually take charge when they have to (usually it's between Daphne, Fred and Velma tho)

But also funny haha reason is that i'm pretty sure Fred is autistic and building traps is his special interest, and Donnie's special interest <- (aside from botany) is building stuff so

Daphne - Raph, mostly because if they did have a set leader, it was her all along like seriously she took charge alot and not many people give her credit for it I don't think, just like Raphie. She's super smart! She's more than being pretty! She is not a damsel! I'm pretty sure i've seen her clock a bad guy once or twice and she also helps with planning. I think Fred said he always thought she was the leader in one of the iterations too!!!! So yeah, raph.

Velma - April, okay I know velma doesn't believe in the paranormal and April does and she finds that stuff super exciting but the enthusiasm Velma has towards investigating reminds me of April and her whole obsession with being a news reporter or something. She isn't afraid to stick her nose where it doesn't belong in order to find the answer and April just seems like the type to know the answer but keep it to herself until the the last moment for like...dramatic twist...

Also she's blind w/o her glasses sooo

Shaggy - Me

Scooby - Mikey, he's loyal and will stick by your side during danger and also I just think the fact that Scooby and Shaggy are the duo ever that are terrified of ghosts and um...you know...thinking back to the gumbus...ANYWAY. I think the whole shaggy and scooby jumping into each other's arms screaming fits us. The shaggy scooby thing can interchange i just think Scoob fits better in the end <- (Mostly cause Shaggy was able to solve a few mysteries on his own even tho he was scared and he usually DOES rationally think that no way ghosts aren't real only to go back on that later upon facing a "ghost" immediately after and that's so me except i was right so)

SRY IF THIS ISN'T READABLE 😓😓

[adventuringblind]

Daddy Issues Finale

Max Verstappen x reader

Genre: Angst and hurt/comfort

Request: no but they are open for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and possibly Danny Ric if y’all have any ideas

Summary: Finally needing both fathers to leave you and Max alone, you start making steps towards going no contact to protect yourselves. Suddenly, the reader finds herself in an unlikely situation and once again finds herself dealing with their fathers.

Warnings: Read the title… it literally says daddy issues. Most forms of abuse are mentioned in this fic, so please proceed with caution. Sort of kidnapping. Reader is drugged. Also, this isn’t proofread because proofreading is hard, and I am lazy.

Notes: we’re back in third person! Also, the reader gets so fed up and becomes a slight menace. I totally was not expecting it to get this dark but here ya go!

Masterlist // Part one // Part two

Max was well aware he needed to do something about this situation. He just didn't know what yet.

It had been a few days since he found her on the floor. Eye's puffy and cheeks tear stained. He felt every bit of restraint he had snapped in him. He knew that logical thing to do was try to go no contact woth both fathers. But that didn't stop him from wanting to punch both for what they did to her.

He'd convinced her to get away for a while. So you headed out with Kika for some 'girl time' as she called it.

Max, on the other hand, was sat on the couch with Pierre, Lando, and Charles. Trying his best to give an explanation of what happened without getting to detailed.

They were nosey, though. So Max was bound to spill eventually.

"He hit her- twice."

The three other men stared at him in shock. Their mouths agape at what he'd just confessed.

"That explains her behavior when I picked her up from the airport." Lando sighed.

"What are you going to do about it, Mate?" Piqued Charles. His hand rubbing against his head to try and process what he'd just heard.

"I don't know yet if I'm being honest."

They all were aware of the bags under Max’s eyes. How his voice sounded so broken. He’d seemed so happy just last week. Thinking his father was finally going to let him breathe. Jos technically did, but he turned that frustration to you instead.

Yesterday Max was given her phone. She had set it in his lap and said everything he’d need to know was in your texts. One rule neither had ever broken was going through each others phones without permission. Both sides had parents that loved to invade privacy. So the two had come to the conclusion that they would communicate what they felt needed to be at that moment.

Y/N had struggled to talk about what happened the last few months. So she just gave Max her phone and let him read what had been texted to her. It was a little easier this way. He could get find what he’d needed to know and maybe get some questions answered and she didn’t have to struggle to get the words out.

“The things they’ve said to both of us are awful, but this a new extent of that.” His voice wavered. His friends doing their best to comfort him. They all knew it was bad. It was obvious after he started joking about it like it was normal. “We both have their numbers blocked. So hopefully that will keep them away for now.”

“Well your dad showed up at your door. Do you think he might do it again?” Pierre’s voice, albeit gentle, had an urgency about it.

Max groaned and flopped backwards further into the couch. The thought hitting him like a train. His dad could show up unannounced, again. “We’ll have to move.”

“There’s an open apartment in my building.” Lando quickly suggested. “We could have sleepovers!”

~

It didn’t take long for the two to get the apartment. Even less time for getting everything moved in. It wasn’t too far away from where they had been living, and everyone wanted to help get them out of there as quick as possible.

Everyone had agreed not give any ideas that they had moved. Privacy becoming important for the two lovers. Both stopped their online presence aside from Max’s professional one. He doesn’t even run that account, his PR manager does. He’d had a conversation with her talking about how he’d been having some safety issues.

The two were relieved when they made it to the next race with no parents in sight. Y/N however, was still on edge about sitting in the Redbull garage. Max was understanding about it and said he could see if Christian would let her sit by him to watch or maybe in the Alpine garage with Kika.

She went for the second option. Waiting until the very last second to give Max a kiss before the race. Then she made her way through the paddock to locate Kika.

She was so close to the safety of the Alpine garage. Close to being able to enjoy the race and watch Max do what he loves. Until a familiar face had her doubling back to the safety of Redbull. Or maybe nowhere was safe.

People were closing in on her. Her breath becoming increasingly restricted in her lungs. She needed to get back within eye shot of Christian. He knew some of what happened. Enough to know that if he saw Jos around the Redbull garage, to have him escorted away. He’d probably be busy though, and she didn’t want to distract anyone.

She did feel a little better after seeing Max in first on the screen. Her eyes leaving the path in front of her for a measly ten seconds. Only to find herself falling to the ground.

She gathered her bearings and made a move to get back on her feet. Until she felt a hand in her shoulder.

“It’s been awhile,” Came the voice of Jos Verstappen.

~

Max had an amazing race. He was excited to win, but he was also excited to find his lover. He didn’t see her during the podium celebration. Most likely due to the crowds. He’d try to locate her in the Alpine garage when he was don’t.

As he was walking around doing his media duties, he locked eyes with Pierre. Pierre who was holding hands with Kika. Kika who was supposed to be with you.

Max excused himself from the reporter and jogged up to his friend. “Kika, do you know where Y/N is?”

“No, sorry, I haven’t seen her all day. I thought she was with you since she hasn’t answered my texts.” She explained.

All three passed looks of confusion before they all became determined to find you.

Max was texting and calling you repeatedly. Praying that neither of your fathers had actually shown up. He finally ran into Christian who was trying to congratulate him on another win. Max, however, only hear the sound of you crying from his memories. Concern flooded through Christian as he watched Max delve further into the panic.

“Max? Are you alright? Can you tell me what’s going on?” He voice calm but urgent enough to get Max to come back to his senses. Now clinging to the sound. Using it to ground himself.

“She’s missing.” He breathed

“Who? Y/N.”

Max frantically began nodding his head. The desperation to find her clearly evident.

“I’ll ask around the garage if anyone has seen her. Why don’t you check your driver room and take a minute to breath.”

He didn’t want to take time to himself. He should be looking for his love. Christian made a point though, he wouldn’t be able to think rationally if he didn’t calm down.

Now he sits alone. Letting the tears escape. Still attempting to call her only to be greeted by the cheery voicemail recording.

When he’d calmed himself down and it didn’t feel like his head was spinning, he began his search one more. Retracing the possible path you might have taken to the Alpine garage.

It seemed everyone was searching high and low for her now.

There were only so many places you could be.

Max was startled by the sudden sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. Disregarding the caller ID, he simply answered “hello” without any hesitation.

“Is this Mr. Verstappen?” Asked an unfamiliar feminine voice.

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

“This is a nurse from the general hospital.”

Everything after that was a blur. He hardly focused on the details. Only running back to his drivers room to find his rental car keys and his wallet.

He ran into Lando on the way. Making his best attempt at explaining while rushing around to grab his things. He hadn’t even bothered changing back into regular clothes yet.

“How about I drive and you change in the backseat.” Lando shot Max a wink and despite everything going on, Max managed a smile. At least he knows where she is now.

~

Everything happened in a whirlwind. One minute she was on her way to see Kika and the next she was gripped by the arm and told not to make a scene.

Her survival instincts kicked in. Knowing she should listen to the man who is determined to make her and Max’s lives miserable. He really needs a new hobby.

She wanted to scream as they passed by Redbull again, but something in her stopped her lungs from doing so. ‘Why is defending someone you love easier than defending yourself?’ She thinks to herself as the two exit the paddock entirely.

It doesn't take long until Jos is shoving her into the back seat. She complies, knowing he's unpredictable.

When she finally is in the car, she notices the figure on the drivers side starting the car.

Her father had come along too.

"Isn't this considered kidnapping?" She asks sarcastically. The car pulling put and starting the journey to an unknow destination.

Neither of them speak. It's unsettling and eerie.

She wanted Max. She needed Max. She knew if she wasn't back before race end that he would be frantic.

They'd tried so hard to be safe and private at the same time. Maybe they should have just made a public statement. Now, everyone was going to find out in the most dramatic way possible.

"Are you going to murder me?"

"No, now shut up, or I will." Spits Jos.

"I would if just told me where we're going." She shrugs. Knowing she's making them aggravated.

If Jos hadn't taken her phone, this would be a very different situation. She curses whoever made women's pockets so small.

"Fine, if you need to know so bad, im taking you home. Far away from Max. Back where you belong." Her Father shouts. Knuckles are turning white from gripping the steering while so hard. "You two are bad influences on each other. You tell each other lies about your families! I've done some research, and I think maybe you're hallucinating. I'm taking you home where you can get help." He explains.

This time, she didn't say anything. The tears weren't stopping. You knew your father had said things like this before about your mom. Going as far as to try and get her diagnosed with any kind of mental disorder that fit.

It never worked because she never had symptoms of anything he was suggesting. How was he expecting to make it work this time?

The answer came sooner than expected. A moment she slipped into the back of her head to escape left her open and vulnerable.

A needle was jammed into her leg by Jos. A cold feeling spreading through her body. She had no idea what it was. Only that it wasn't good and she needed to get out of this car.

The adrenaline from her flight instincts kicked in, and her breathing picked up. They were on a slower street. One lined with small shops and pedestrians. If she was going to jump, now was her chance.

Without thinking, she opens the door and launches herself towards the sidewalk. The people around either running away or running to help her.

She vaguely remembers someone asking what happened and if they should call somone.

"Max" was the only thing she could get out before tumbling into the darkness.

~

Max rushs inside the emergency room. Lando dropped him right outside the door before trying to hunt down a parking spot.

"How can I help you?" Asks the nurse. A little startled by his sudden appearance.

'I'm looking for someone."

It didn't take long before he was being led back to where they had been keeping her.

Relief flooding through his veins when he layed eyes on her. Trying and struggling to sip water through a straw.

Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Flinging the blanket off and swinging her legs over the side like she would just walk to him.

He rushed over to her and gently laid her back down. Her pupils are blown, and her body is swaying side to side. Confusion takes hold of Max. "What happened to her?" He asks the nurse.

"She has a minor fracture in her wrist and a gash on her knee from the impact of the sidewalk. We're still running tests to see the specific drugs in her system, but we do know for sure she was drugged." The nurse explains.

Max feels his stomach lurch. "I don't understand. What happened to her?"

"My apologies, I thought the authorities had spoken to you already. I'll send them in to explain."

Max's head is reeling. The love of his life was drugged, and who knows what else. It doesn't matter what any reporter says. He's getting extra security.

Tears slip from his eyes as he holds you. "I'm sorry, love."

"Why are you sorry, Maxy? You're here." She slurs. A smile graced her lips despite the situation.

The sound of heavy boots makes Max look up. The girl on the bed is now entertaining himself with his fingers.

"Are you family?" The officer asks.

"Yeah."

"We should step outside."

Max got up from his place beside her on the bed. She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. Struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"I'll be right back." He soothed her. Placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Max followed the officer outside and closed the door behind him.

"We have reason to believe she was kidnapped. Witnesses told us she jumped out of a moving car and then almost immediately passed out."

Max's mind went in so many directions at once. How could this have happened? How did nobody notice?

The officer opened a manilla envelope and slid out two pictures. "These are the suspects who we caught trying to get her back in the cat. Do you recognize them?"

Max's hand flew to his face. He couldn't get words out. He was about to sink to his knees before Lando came around the corner. Seeing him about to buckle and reflexivley running up to him. Lando pratically catchs the Dutchman and helps him get steady on his feet again.

Lando tries to get his bearings. He was about to ask Max what happened when he notices the officer and, more importantly, the pictures.

"Isn't that your dad, Max?" Max just shakes his head yes. Releived Lando is there to say what he's trying to.

Lando leans in closer, the officer surprised at the action and almost pulling away. He stops, however, at Lando's next words. "And isn't that Y/N's father?"

~

It didn't take them long to have the young woman discharged from the hospital. Lando driving the two home and helping check the apartment for any potential threats.

The two males could tell she was feeling awful. The doctors flushed her system with water and put a cast on the fracture. The two were exhausted.

Lando said his goodbyes and told Max to call if they needed anything. including someone to stand guard.

Max had texted everyone on the ride home that she was back safe.

A new question on his mind: What happens now? Both your fathers had been taken into custody. Mainly on the charge of kidnapping. But the officer said they could testify and get them put away for longer.

Could the two of you manage that? The side of him that wanted to make his father happy said he should go bail him out. On the other hand, the two would finally he safe. No more anxieties about awful parental figures doing unwarranted things.

Both could start to finally get the healing they deserve.

~

It took some time, but both came to the conclusion to prosecute. The day of the trail came far to quickly for you to prepare.

There was supposed to be a race this weekend, but it had been postponed until later in the evening due to many of the racers wanting to testify.

When both were found guilty, the couple started crying. The thought of being free from the awful cloud looming over them finally set in.

Nether of them could believe is was this good.

When Max won the race later, it was the most emotional either had ever been. Max let himself be proud of his achievements.

Months later, the two had begun to heal. A slow process. Both are patient and understanding with each other. Trying to communicate as much as possible. Finding outside help to help guide them.

Security at the paddock had gotten better. She never felt vulnerable. Mainly because someone was always with her, and Christian let her sit next to him during races. He'd joked, saying that you already look like you belong there, so he might as well just give you a job.

And as the two lovers lie in bed together, they reminisce. How their daddy issues brought them together.

[blommp717]

A message from yourself

Well, your the reason this message is reaching you so congrats on this manifestation, now let’s begin.

But before that, here’s my channel where I’m going to be explaining nondualism in video format yaaay ☺️🤪

Everything except conciseness is just an illusion. The only thing that does not change regardless of pressure, judgment, fear, opinion, circumstances, people, events, emotions, etc. is awareness/consciousness/pure being. Your eyes are scanning the screen but what comes before/beyond that? Like what’s looking through the eyes? Yes, that’s you.

Anything put infront of it/you instantly become real. How?

Like I said, everything is an illusion, an illusion of you/by you, if the only thing that is constant is awareness, it’s the only true thing that’s real. Without awareness there is no world to perceive, there’s nothing to experience, there’s absolute absence. Therefore everything is only possible as an experience because of awareness, it feels so real because that’s also something me as consciousness chose to experience.

The good news? You can feel doubtful, sad, anxious, upset, cry, think the most awful “opposing” thoughts in the world and it does nothing to my manifestation because that’s not me. I am conciseness, all I can do is be aware of those things being put infront of me, but what I also understand is that none of those things on their own matter. I decide what they mean because I created it lol. Anything except being will never have any power over me because I made it.

The process? the only thing required in order to experience something different, is think about it, seriously, there is absolutely no secret, lengthy process, month long journey, manifestation in nature is instant. How long does it take you to be aware of something? Instant moment right? I mean I can say. APPLE. You’ve just became aware of an Apple, congratulations! you now have seen/experienced an Apple. Now, anything after being aware of the apple like “where is it, when is it manifesting,” etc. is completely null and void. You in real time and in actuality just manifested whatever you put infront of that awareness.

If your still doubting just like I used to, listen up, you’re not able to mess it up. You = Awareness, Awareness = Everything. Everything includes imagination, includes “3D”, includes EVERYTHING. You the infinite source of creation are the reason it’s experiencing itself, the moment you become aware of something, as that source, you experience it. The key in making it FEEL better is to understand that THERE CANNOT BE SEPARATION IF ITS ALL YOU. A wave can’t be separate from the ocean even if it takes a different form!!! Come to this conclusion, as many times as you need to and reassure yourself, your not choosing to go down some lengthy progress bar, you are living your life. You effortlessly manifested everything before finding out about nondualism/loa/etc. and now that you know how to get everything you want you think it’s hard?? Girl how the hell does that work.

When you become aware of something and a reaction like a physical feeling in your body or emotion arises or thoughts appear, just LET THEM COMEEE, and as you allow them you remind yourself that it’s okay, it means nothing, emotions aren’t source, thoughts aren’t source, physical reactions are NOT SOURCE, anytime you feel off about what you’ve became aware of you need to remember, MANIFESTING IS INSTANT, BECOME AWARE AND EVERYTHING ELSE CAN BE DISREGARDED. FEEL YOUR FEELINGS AND MOVE ON!!! You know how long it took before I realized I don’t need to attend to every off feeling and thought with an array of relaxing techniques or affirmations to pile on top of it. Even with Nondualism!! K I think that’s enough for this post ima do more later. Hehe

.

[tang0soda]

I haven't seen a lot of discussion about RSD when it comes to ADHD discussions, so I thought I would do the honors since it's been affecting me for many years and I'd like people to know more about it!

I have had a diagnosis for ADHD but was never told- instead learning I had autism through therapy but still having some behaviors that I could never explain that just Happened.

I learned I had ADHD over the summer, and with that, severe rejection sensitive dysphoria.

before reading, please keep in mind that this is mostly talking from personal experience and some skimmed research! not experiencing RSD doesn't mean you do/don't have ADHD, and it may not appear like how it appeared for me. I don't only have autism + adhd either, so those may also contribute to any differences! ^^

RSD is the immense emotional pain after being criticized, rejected, or even teased (ignore my misspell in the panel). This rejection can be real or perceived, and we react like this because it hurts.

The pain can manifest as aggression, bringing on symptoms of depression (thoughts of s/h, isolation, demotivation, etc) and anxiety/panic attacks.

it can cause physical aliments like the above. For me, it causes my heartrate to skyrocket, heart palpitations, the feeling of being in a crisis, and extreme shaking to occur along with stomach pain.

(In fact, right now I'm going through it because making a post talking about this, despite having & dealing with it, makes me scared of other's opinions on it.)

RSD can also take the form of avoiding situations, people, or conversations where rejection or criticism is very possible.

Like other types of dysphoria, it is out of our control and hard to manage. It can last from days to weeks to months, all depending on both the trigger* and the individual.

I had a RSD episode that was on-and-off for a little over a year or two; getting more tame and bearable as it slowly drifted and stopped haunting my mind with the incident.

Compared to the other times my RSD was set off, this moment was a rather big moment in my life and ended up permanently changing me moving forward - which can be the reason why it lasted so long.

Despite how unbearable it can get, there are some ways to cope with it & lessen the effect it has.

Communicate - If you need time to process something that's told to you, you should say so (as difficult as it is). Tell the person(s) involved about your RSD, how you need time to digest information like this and take some time to relax. Trying to respond to the information while going through the head of the dysphoria will be very rough and might not be what you truly want to say.

Distract - This is really useful for me personally! Do something that grabs your attention or occupies your mind. One of RSD's main symptoms is rumination, thinking of something over and over again. I usually listen to music, draw, or play a game that won't frustrate me - like minecraft! (i'd say rain world but some of you would call me a maniac /lhj)

Perspective - This may require some communication, but it can really help and connect with others. See what the involved people thought / perceived, explain, talk. This doesn't always have the chance to end in rainbows and rekindling but at least you understand. Sometimes simply hearing the person explain their own side is enough to ease my RSD, being able to have someone explain themselves to me so i can understand them better.

I also wanna point out the "don't take it personally" thing that people try to use to deal with it isn't something i agree with since we're going to take it personally at first regardless. Later on, not really, but you're trying to cope with the symptoms... telling someone (or yourself) that they're too sensitive & over-reacting is the worse thing you could do.

With time, you can even begin to build up your 'armor' and be able to sustain yourself in situations you might get hurt in. Of course, some things may be able to sneak past and hurt you more than you expect, but at the end of the day, you're trying your best to go about it the best you can while taking so many blows. you're doing great.

OK i dont have a lot more to add so if anyone else would like to talk about their experiences, please feel free! Character showcased here was my beloved fursona Shiki! i'm just a little neurodivergent + black artist from new york :]

hope you enjoyed it! sorry for the long post </3

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 2

Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Marshall takes Y/N for a drive and they open up about their sobriety experiences.

Tags : mentions of substance abuse

The drive wasn’t very long but it was kind of silent. You did not really know what to say, so you kept to yourself, as Marshall was driving. After a short while, you arrived to some sort of observatory, from where you could see the whole city of Detroit. The view was breathtaking. It was starting to get dark so you could see the lights from the building.

- Woah, you said as you got out of the car.

- Nice, huh ? Marshall asked.

- Definitely better than my room, you admitted.

- It’s one of my favourite places in the city, he explained. When I started recovery, I thought I was going crazy, staying in my house. So I started coming here everyday. Sometimes for twenty minutes. Sometimes for hours. But at least it got me up from the couch and out of the house.

- The city looks great from here, you said. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.

- It’s not highly touristic, Marshall explained. Not many people know about it. That’s what is so great.

- I have to admit I haven’t explored much of Detroit yet, you said.

- For how long have you been here ? He asked.

- About four years now. I came to get my Master’s degree, as an exchange student at University of Michigan. And then I got a PhD fellowship so I took the opportunity to stay. Plus, I got together with Simon around the same time so it kind of felt like it was meant to be.

- Simon’s your boyfriend ?

- Ex, you quickly corrected. We split up. Actually, he left when I was in the hospital. Hence the living situation with Jamal and Talia, who were kind enough to take me in.

- I see, Marshall said. So he left you because of the OD ?

- Kind of.

Without really thinking about it, you proceeded to tell him about the breakup. Something about Marshall made it easy to talk. He was easy-going and made you feel safe, as if you had known him forever and could share everything with him.

- I really thought we were endgame, you said. We were talking about getting married eventually. And having kids, too…

You stopped talking as you felt a knot forming in your stomach. Simply mentioning your plans of having kids with Simon brought back the memories of the miscarriage. That very event had been the beginning of the end for the two of you. Even though Simon had been saddened by the miscarriage, it hadn’t affected him much. You were the one who gad to deal with the days of bleeding, cramping and crying. You had become attached to this baby and had troubles coming to terms with the loss of this pregnancy. Simon, on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine.

- We’ll try again, he had said. It happens. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, you know ?

Even though you knew he was right, you were hurt. It wasn’t about trying again. It was about processing your loss and grieving. It felt as if Simon had moved on as soon as you’d been told there was no heartbeat anymore. As time went on, you felt unable to talk about your grief, your pain and the trauma. So you started using more and more pills.

- YN ? You heard Marshall’s voice pulling you back to reality.

- Sorry, you said apologising profusely. I got in my head.

- It’s ok. Breakups are hard to talk about, he said. You’re really strong, you know ? With everything you’re going through right now.

- I kind of brought it on myself, you said sheepishly. If I hadn’t been using, I wouldn’t be going through this breakup right now.

- You never know what could have been. You just need to focus on getting better right now.

- Any wisdom to share ? You asked with genuine interest.

In fifteen years of sobriety, you assumed he had gained some wisdom you could use.

- Don’t be afraid to talk. Like, ever. In fact, I think that staying silent and alone with your thoughts makes you insanely more vulnerable and at risk for a relapse. Also, there are thousands of things I could tell you right now, but the only thing that matters is that, as lonely as you may feel, there are many, many people going through the same thing. You are not alone. Your road to recovery doesn’t have to be a lonely one.

He smiled and got closer to you as he spoke. He gently put a hand on your shoulder.

- You may lose people in the process but that doesn’t mean you can’t be surrounded by love and support, he finally said.

You felt a little lump in your throat and, for a second, you thought you’d cry.

- How did you get over the disappointment you caused people ? You asked, looking into his piercing blue eyes.

- By making amends and, mostly, creating new memories with them. The hardest thing for me was letting my family down, especially my children. I missed Christmas with them when I OD’d. I’ll never have that time back. But I make a point of sharing meaningful moments with them now. More than ever before, he said.

- Do they resent you ? You shyly asked.

- I’m pretty sure they did. My daughter is the one who found me unconscious, two hours away from dying. I guess the kids did suffer from my absence. They needed me as a parent, not as a burden. But I’m better now, I’m present and I’m here for them. That’s what matters. It’s in the past, now. What matters the most to me is that they know I love them.

You watched Marshall’s eyes as he gazed upon the horizon. Obviously, talking about his kids struck a chord.

- You seem like a great dad, you said. Your kids are lucky to have you.

- I try to be. To be fair, they’re the ones who are great. I owe them everything.

- Tell me about them, you asked.

The way Marshall spoke of his daughters sparked your interest. The sparkle in his eyes when he mentioned them warmed your heart and you could only hope that, one day, you would be so lucky to have kids you could love as much. Obviously, he loved talking about his daughters and bragging about them. You couldn’t help but think it must be a bit odd for them to have Eminem as a dad, growing up.

You chuckled at the thought of your own Dad, who was so different than Marshall, even though they were about the same age.

- What is so funny ? He asked with a smile. Sorry, I’m such a geek when I talk about my kids.

- No, it’s not that ! You reassured him. I was thinking of my father. I think you’re about his age but somehow you’re… cooler, I guess ?

- You’re only saying that because I’m not your father, Marshall assured you.

- Pretty sure not, you insisted.

After all, you highly doubted that Marshall’s daughters would trade their rapper father for yours. Maybe it was a matter of culture, but Marshall was warmer, more emotionally available.

- Are you close to your parents ?Marshall asked. They must be proud of you, getting your PhD and stuff.

- My mom died when I was two so I don’t have a lot of memories of her. I was raised by my father and his new wife. We’re not really close but I guess you could say they’re kind of proud, you explained.

- Do they know about your OD ?

- No, you admitted shyly. I couldn’t disappoint them like that. How would you react if the same thing happened to one of your girls ?

- I don’t think I’d be disappointed, Marshall said after a few seconds of thoughts. I’d be scared, concerned and, frankly, disappointed in myself if they ever felt the need to hide this from me. My job is to be there for them, come what may. If you were my daughter, I would want you to know that.

- Well, my Dad would never forgive me, you said without a thought.

- I think the forgiveness that matters the most is your own, he pointed out.

Marshall’s words meant a lot to you. Talking to him so candidly felt so good.

- What if I can’t forgive myself, Marshall ? You asked with tears welling in your eyes.

- You can. You deserve to, Y/N. Just because you fucked up doesn’t mean it’s over for you. You deserve to have great things coming your way, he replied as he pulled you in for a hug.

- But I’m a failure, you pointed out. I lied to everyone, I screwed everything up with Simon and even Talia doesn’t trust me anymore. I don’t even deserve you being so nice to me. Why are you so nice to me ?! You blurted out.

A smile started to form on Marshall’s lips.

- Because kindness isn’t meant to be deserved anyway, He said. When I got sober, I had amazing people helping me out. I always told myself I’d do the same for anyone else in need, he explained. And you may think you deserve to have everyone hating you, but the truth is, I haven’t heard anything but good things about you from Talia and Jamal. They love you and they think the world of you. That tells me you’re pretty cool.

You let out a laugh and dried your tears.

- Thank you, Marshall. For everything.

- My pleasure, Y/N.

The two of you kept on gazing at the lights of the city for a while, making small talk. At some point, you found yourself shivering. Marshall offered you his jacket but you felt kind of tired and asked if he would mind driving you back instead. On the way home, you stared at him and realised that, even though you’d just met him, you felt insanely comfortable around him. You were thankful for making his acquaintance. Also, you couldn’t help but tell yourself he looked as good as he was kind - which was saying something. He wasn’t really your usual type but you found him quite appealing. And you started blushing as soon as you realised that you were kind of attracted to someone who was old enough to be your father. You shrugged it off and told yourself that it was probably your vulnerability playing you.

When you arrived at Talia and Jamal’s, he stopped the car and stepped out to open your door. He hugged you goodbye and reached for his necklace before handing it to you.

- It helped me through some tough times, I hope it does the same for you, he said before kissing your forehead.

- Won’t you need it though ? You asked.

- I’m good, he simply said. Take care, Y/N.

You smiled and waved goodbye as he got back to the car. You had no idea as to whether you’d see him again or not, but it did not really matter in this moment. You felt as if there was purpose in the moments you just shared. Even if you never crossed path again, you knew you’d forever be thankful for him. You put the necklace around your neck and entered the house with a smile on your face.

- Well, someone looks cheerful, Talia said as you walked through the door.

- Yeah, we had a great talk, you said. He is very nice. Is everyone gone ?

- They went out to dinner, she said. I stayed so that you wouldn’t come home to an empty place.

- You didn’t have to !

- I don’t mind, really. Plus, I think it’s good for Jamal.

- He loves having you around, you pointed out. And everyone seems to like you too !

- They’re super cool, she admitted. But I can do without the boys’ talk, she added with a grin. Plus, now, I have a live-in bestie ! A bestie with a necklace that definitely rings a bell, she pointed out.

As soon as those words left her mouth, you knew you were in for a long series of questions.

[lopposting]

translation notes on deleted lines + why translation is truly so important

[long post]

Hello everyone... As I'm sure you've seen, the deleted lines here that were leaked have been a wrecking ball on both this fanbase and my heart!!! (thank you to the users who put that together.)

OKOKOK more translation notes!!! This is a little too out of my level in Korean for me tbh, but I'll try my best to explain my point of view.

기억은 없지만 저 역시 당신의 아들임니다. I may not remember, but I'm still your son.

Pino is using the form Dangshin (당신) here and not father (as in 기억은 없지만 저 역시 아버지의 아들입니다?), probably because he isn't directly talking to Geppetto, and it's a general formal version of "you".

Grammatical notes aside and getting to the main point, this line shows that translation is SO finicky and SO important

This line is such a completely crazy example of how translation can change an entire story; how one word can make something entirely different.

Let's look at that line with the two different interpretations.

기억은 없지만 저 역시 당신의 아들입니다. I may not remember, but I'm still your son.

Alternatively, where 역시 (yeokshi) is interpreted as "TOO":

기억은 없지만 저 역시 당신의 아들입니다. I may not have [his] memories, but I'm your son, too.

Here's the thing... "but I'm still your son, too"...

that "too" changes EVERYTHING. That little three letter word, at the end of that sentence changes everything, and has the power to steer an entire story. Because why would he need to add the "too" modifier if Geppetto only had one single child?

At my level, I cannot say that it's one or the other with 100% certainty. Translation always requires some form of interpretation, and either one is "accurate". But, as you know, a translation being "accurate" is often not even enough. [note: In the process of writing this post, and giving it some thought. I would say that yes, considering the context, the second translation is more accurate (because in this context he is referring to Carlo's memories when he uses the word "역시") ]

Deleted lines are deleted for a reason

Over the many days I've been deliberating over this (lol Lies has taken me heart and mind), I've realized that maybe I've gotten caught up in a bit of survivorship bias. As in, I think I was focusing on the content of the deleted lines, and not that they were deleted in the first place.

[Among other reasons,]

I think these lines were likely deleted because the (almighty gods) Developers wanted to keep it more ambiguous and up to interpretation whether or not P is Carlo. It's a very intriguing choice. That being said, I really appreciate that people shared this so we can see the creative decisions that were even made in the first place.

I'm reminded of Antonia's letter, because I still find it that profound. (she really was the best ;_;) When she sees Pino, she doesn't mention carlo at all to Pino, lady Antonia just treats him exactly as he is.

And her final letter is so touching. Perhaps guessing what complicated emotions Pino might be feeling about his relation to Carlo.. she tells him, not that he is or isn't Carlo, but that

"Whether you are that child or not -"

he is worthy of love and that he is precious.

"Whether you are Carlo or not, You are precious to me."

Director Choi's message on the Special Release Vinyl:

This is from discogs, the quality is hard to read so I've transcribed this portion here.

Lies of P harbors a plethora of concealed enigmas and artful subtleties, and there are no wrong interpretations to them. Piece together the scattered fragments and unravel the puzzle to craft a narrative of what is true to you. ... With sincerest regards, Lies of P Director CHOI JIWON

Seems to directly confirm that some things being left up for interpretation is by design. Very very neat!! I love it!! :)

[jeanbie]

diary 1 tw: mental health, ed mentions

hey hens, this is a slight update + dump + vent all piled together. i come back every few weeks to say, "i'm working on this and i'm back" and then i don't deliver, but there are legitimate reasons and honestly, today i'm feeling particularly gloomy and wanted to just explain and...talk, i guess. share my feelings. this is therapy i can't otherwise afford!

since around june, i've been slowly sinking back into my what feels like chronic depression and have fallen so deep that this horrid feeling has actually consumed me. shamefully, i can confess that this process was accelerated by being love-bombed at the worst time ever (namely the few months after a long breakup where i should have been healing and instead, i just filled the gaping hole my ex made with somebody new and then was unprepared for that person to violently leave in the same manner and now the gap is sort of just there, festering, stinking up, making me miserable).

i've been trying my hardest to climb out of the hole i've gotten so comfortable in, but i've been surprised in discovering that getting out is really hard. on top of that, i've fallen ill again (with eating issues) and in general i just feel constantly frozen in place with no real purpose or feeling on where i'm going.

i kind of hate that a man of all things is what set me off on this dark road, but i guess it wasn't going to take much to return me to a place i've left undefined and untreated for so many years. becoming what i fondly call "gloomy" was only a matter of time.

everytime i write, the words feel so tasteless and awful - i'm not of the opinion of feeling like i have to publish content within due time because of demand; if i feel like my writing isn't up to scratch, i won't publish anything i feel dissatisfied or embarrassed of, hence my silence on jeanbie as of late.

i don't know, i'm trying to come to terms with the sudden loss of someone who i foolishly thought could be the person that like my soul was searching for. we just felt very compatible but i know that he has his own issues (and honestly, i have lots of my own), but i just crave something more from the world that the world isn't quite ready to give me, and it just feels hard to accept that as a fact even when i already know it to be a fact deep down. it's hard to explain, but i hope you understand somewhat: i just need my time. with everything.

jeanbie really became a solace for me in 2024 and i desperately want to return to writing, as it provided me with a space to yearn for the things i subconsciously want and need through fictional characters. i suddenly had brand new ideas a few days ago, so i'm waiting for the sparks to surge at my fingertips and for me to open pages and cook something delicious in the form of fantasize pt3. i did not forget about jake and spelly, they're coming, they're just taking a breather and making out somewhere while i figure out what to do with myself and how to eradicate this consuming feeling of rotten sadness. i didn't have a brat summer, by the way, i feel like i had a NFR summer or a sad-glee-ballad-summer.

autumns coming. i will heal. i will take my time. i will also try my best to recover in a progressive way so that i can feel good and also deliver what i know people genuinely want which is content. i'm doing my best :)

[shadowofroses]

Till I See You Again

Possible Reader x Nai Millions Knives.

Trigun Stampede into Trimax

Warnings: This itself is Gender Neutral Reader, Isekai alternate to another Isekai Idea I have where Zazie takes Reader to Nai instead of letting them go. Hints of Yandere Nai, Reader Sings. Tesla research, angst over Morals. If I forget something please let me know. I do intend to build on this more. Reader has experiments done on them , reader has no reason to sing this song, they just do.

Song used: Till I See You Again by Unsecret

943 words Chapter excerpt:

“Why am I a stranger, Lost in the Familiar….will I ever know~”

It’s not like you had much to do. It’s not your fault you got Isekaied into Trigun. Why couldn’t you have fall into Vash’s arms? No you had to fall into the world literally, being caught by a whirlwind of Worms.

Other than the blood tests among other things Conrad had performed upon you. As there had to be a Scientific reason why you were dropped into the world from a world long gone. Something was wrong with your blood work however, you wouldn’t be considered a Viable option as a ideal human, an attempt to perfect the Human race so that they could live independently of Plants all together.

“Running with my eyes closed, hunted by the shadows will they ever go?”

Due to your knowledge you were too valuable to let go. No they needed you locked up, well to an extent. You were free to roam the Ship. As long as you stayed out of the way there was no need to impose most things.

You were in the area where they had collected Surviving books from the Great Fall. You would call it a Library. You gazed through book after book Piecing together how things were the way they were, what happened to earth as a whole.

“I’m afraid...that I’m miles away from yesterday and I’m alone…”

As you sung to yourself in a slow, soft, and haunting way. You would have never thought that there were anyone else around. Seeing picture of Earth, the continents. Historical events leading up to it’s collapse. It really made you wonder...did you actually watch an anime, or were you thrust into the future somehow?

But how….was that possible? How was any of this possible?

“Can’t you see I’m right here? Locked inside the Nightmare...Like a memory?”

You would move on from subject to subject. Eventually you landed on the books on Plants. But...it wasn’t just Plants. But Independent Plants in general. Then...you found documents on Tesla…you really didn’t think you were supposed to find those. The tests they did on her...you couldn’t help but cry at that. Because, of course Humans would destroy another being to attempt to understand them...They stored her dissected body parts separately...but why?

“Whispers in the silence, madness in disguises...like an enemy.~”

You felt sick. Closing the book, disgusted. The more you read, the more you understood Nai, where he came from. His thought processes.

But no. You couldn’t let yourself think like that. There HAD to be some good in Humanity. Vash was out there trying to prove it. Granted you haven’t met Vash. But you knew him from the shows, from the Manga...well maybe known was a loose term…like Vash...you just had to believe there was some good in Humanity...Not quite because Rem sacrificed herself to. It...was hard to explain...

“it’s a cold and lonely road but I’m gonna hold on…..Till I see you again~”

You didn’t place the books back, instead you walked off, heading back to your quarters. A room Similar to what Vash was in when he was taken in after The Fall. You were distracted, that you didn’t even notice that you passed up Nai on the way out.

Nai himself was distracted. His eyes narrowed and followed your form. For one so painfully ordinary, your voice was haunting and beautiful when he heard it. It wasn’t a voice or a Melody he expected to ever have come out of your mouth.

Slowly he walked over to look at the books you were looking at. Old books on Earth were to be expected? Plants were probable. He froze at Tesla’s experiments and documents. Other than the obvious as to why they were there, his eyes narrowed. He saw water droplets beside the papers.

Hesitantly, he reached down, touching the droplets, and he raised it up to his nose. Salt...tears? You would cry for his Sister?

Why was he drawn to you? A Mere human?

It’s a cold and lonely road but I gotta hold on...Till I see you again~

Your voice, it echoed in his head. Who exactly did you want to see again? A lover back on Old Earth? Well you had to get over that. You were most likely never going to see Earth ever again. Not that Nai would let you go.

What makes you want to hang onto whatever it was you were holding onto? Why were you stubborn like his brother. Even going as far as trying to escape the ship under his watch. Why? You weren’t a stupid Human, you had remnants of intelligence. You knew this planet wasn’t Earth. There were two suns, it was hotter than the climate back on Earth. You would get sick, heat stroke, heat exhaustion, hyperthermia, among other things. You weren’t meant for this planet.

If anything you should be grateful he’s protecting you from this.

Till I see you again~

Your voice echoed as an ear worm. Nai frowned, as he moved deciding to do the one thing he could do and control at this present time. He walked until his bare feet took him to his organ. Sitting down, his fingers flew against the keys gracefully.

Closing his eyes his fingers played the notes before he could even think of what he was doing.

But with your voice in his head, singing the song you did earlier, he was playing the organ along with your voice playing on repeat in his head.

However something was missing...Oh, the musical notes he played were perfect. Everything Nai did was perfect. But still something was missing

He needed you.

[ask-the-royal-absol]

Dela floated up to the gengar. Being a ghost therapist is something that Dela is fascinated with. Particularly, because she felt like she needed one.

"Just curious, but have you had any pokemon that you have helped confess to or ask for horrible requests? What do you do in those cases?"

Felix: It can be tricky sometimes. Some Pokémon just become so hellbent on wantin’ ta take revenge that they don’t wanna consider other options. I’ve even had a spirit or two want ta harm Destino and their family. Of course I’ve gotta put friendships aside for those ones as ta not let my feelings get in the way of providing ‘em with some form of support.

*Felix put his arms behind his head, getting into a position that looked even more comfortable than the last. He looked in thought, considering all of the cases he’s had to work with. He couldn’t go spilling these spirits secrets but he supposed he could explain things a little clearer.*

Felix: Being a therapist for ghosts can be hard. I’ve heard a lot of things from these spirits - things that they would have never admitted ta anyone if they were alive - and I have ta hold onta their secrets unless it’s gonna cause someone harm. I’ve had spirits admit to all sorts of crimes they’ve committed. From thievery ta some downright awful things that I just couldn’t repeat, I’ve had ta treat every spirit same, without judgement or fear of bein’ judged by me.

Felix: And it tends ta go well. They’ll talk about themselves, I’ll repeat back what they’ve said ta get ‘em ta process it, they usually think of a solution and I give ‘em the chance to work through whether that solution is best for ‘em and then reflect on everything that’s been discussed.

Hope: It doesn’t surprised me about Destino being a target for the spirits. I imagine their family may not be kind rulers.

Felix: They certainly have things goin’ on which make ‘em not great rulers but, considerin’ what they have ta work with, they’re doin’ a damn good job.

*Felix paused his thought for a moment. There was something he needed to ask about that hadn’t come out of his mind since he heard it.*

Felix: Speakin’ of royal families, how close are ya with the other kingdoms’ children? If they have any, that is.

Hope: Dad mainly deals with the political side of the kingdom so he knows a lot more about them than I do. I’ve met the Whimsain prince Kader and princess Clover before. Clover tends to do public displays of combat in the city which are really cool to watch. I think Kader also likes to wander through Whimsain to speak to his subjects but we haven’t heard much from that kingdom recently. My dad hasn’t mentioned King Regis or Queen Melody for a while so I have no idea what’s going on there.

Hope: I haven’t seen Prince Oswell of the Mechania kingdom for a long time but I know my dad tends to speak with his dads often for trades. I really don’t know much about him. And I wouldn’t know where to start with the royal family of Naaturo. I don’t think many Pokémon know what their deal is but I know they have more than 30 royal children. I think the eldest is called Mira. Could be wrong though. I’ve not met them myself.

Felix: More than 30?!

Hope: You heard me right. Again, that whole family has a weird way of doing things. I’m not sure even dad knows what’s going on but he speaks with Queen Pollen sometimes.

Felix: Ya know, I think I much prefer the Underdark’s system of only havin’ one royal family ta worry about.

[zeawesomebirdie]

hi !!!! did NOT consider you might like to have the ask again to answer it. if you do:

seeing you post about your old west au is motivating me to at least draft my stuff out for my fic, too!!! so, firstly: good god thank you. secondly, what kind of drafting process do you normally go through? you don't have to answer this but everyone i know is pretty particular about how they write so i'm always curious!!!

Gosh okay I'm still so embarrassed about accidentally posting this before it was ready!! Lesson learned: only work on long posts on desktop (very affectionate). I'm going to copy paste what I had originally said, but there will be added stuff because it wasn't anywhere near ready to go (if you thought it was long before, honey you ain't seen nothing yet!)

Also I still am so proud of you for working on your fic, we are writing buddies now hand in lovable hand I love you thank you for enabling my rambling <33

Buckle in, here we go!

SO! My drafting process is always a moving target. I do what works best for the work in question, and things change depending on my energy and fatigue levels plus my motivation and interest levels

So that said, right now my process usually looks like:

ramble at someone in DMs, copy and paste rambles into a google doc for safekeeping and marinating

zero draft, aka word vomit until a plot forms, block out actions and the occasional dialog, determine chapter and story arcs

first draft, aka Where The Real Writing Happens

optional second draft, but only if the fic is under 10k

line edits

post :)

find a bunch of typos that I somehow missed during line editing, fix those before anyone notices

I will be showing examples because this is a bit hard to explain and Extremely Intense to a lot of people, and yeah that's because it is! I approach writing fanfic the same way I approach writing original fiction, and I find it works best for me as a plotter

If you are metaphorically inclined and familiar with oil painting: I write the way an oil painter paints. First I block in the big shapes, the gestures, and the colours. Then I come back in subsequent drafts and increase the detail until I'm done!

Further information and actual examples of my drafts will be below the cut, because this is gonna be super long and I love talking shop ^.^

And general content warning for non-graphic violence and graphic smut (and shitty early drafts); the examples are from Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson fics

So before we get into the zero draft, I want to point out two things: first, I do full rewrites. This is why writing takes me one million years. I retype each and every word in each and every draft. Second, I'm actually trying something new with the Old West!AU, for reasons I will explain in a moment!

I started doing full rewrites in 2019 after a college writing course, in which we read Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott; she encourages the reader to embrace the shitty first draft. I ended up really benefiting from a zero draft too, something I first learned about in 2020 from someone on authortube who I no longer remember the name of. The zero draft is essentially a pre-draft, in which one gets the gist of the story out of their system before the prose clogs up the spigot

For me, zero drafts are something that need to be finished as fast as possible in order to get done at all, so due to the sheer length of the Old West!AU, I'm trying out writing little bullet points instead of my full zero drafting. Right now this fic is at 27 chapters, and this is part 1 of 3 total. I will be going back and filling in the actual blocking once I have all the scenes roughly accounted for

Context for the Old West!AU: Bruce is the Bat, a vigilante gunman who only kills when he needs to but still has the fastest draw on this side of the Mississippi. Now that he's taken care of the man who killed his parents, he's returned home to his Uncle Alfred and gone straight, meaning that he's hung up his guns and gone back to homesteading the family land. He adopts Dick and then a year later Jason as well, when small burglaries start happening in town, so he takes the Bat out of retirement and goes to investigate.

My bullet points started out like this:

Open on comparison between Bruce's first gun and the Bat's guns. Introduce Joe Chill, general drunkard. The Bat calls out Chill, shootout, Chill is killed. Chill drew first. Moment of reflection between Bruce's first gunfight at 15 to this one, at 21. Bruce goes home.

And that's the whole entire first chapter!

However, now they look more like:

The Sheriff runs up and shoots at him. The Bat has him disarmed with his own gun barrel to his throat in an instant. It doesn't take the Bat much time to get info out of him either. The burglar is only going after small change, not enough to be noticeable. That rules out the gambler, easily. The Sheriff can't do shit about it, because no one is willing to start an investigation for such small change. The Bat shoves the Sheriff to his knees and is gone before he notices. Alfred is waiting for him when he gets home, and asks. Bruce tries to deny it, but the clothes are in his hands and he can't. So he sighs and says he may have made a promise, but… there might be more to this than there seems, okay? He just… has a bad feeling about it. Alfred can't accept this, what about his sons? Bruce can't take this, and tells him he doesn't have to. Their yelling wakes up Dick and Jason, who stand in the doorway to their bedroom and look on with the door mostly closed.

Eventually both Alfred and Bruce yell each other out, and they sit down for coffee as dawn breaks. Bruce breaks the silence first, saying Alfred is right. Alfred tells him he understands. Bruce decides to let the Bat go for real now.

This is about half of the chapter, and closer to the blocking I normally do in zero drafts

So far this pre-zero draft seems to be working, given I've already finished part 1, but I also can't wait to come back and do the blocking in because that's when the fic really starts to take shape!

Usually though, I just start with a zero draft. I'm going to show you two different fics for the zero draft examples, because they were done differently, and like I said at the beginning, I try to adjust my process based on what is called for by what I'm writing

This first is from the fic I'm writing for @ful-crum. It's a 5+1, in which it is five times Dick fucks Bruce to distract him from discussing his emotions plus one time they actually discuss their emotions and then fuck about it.

Tim and Jason turn up an hour later, and they're incredibly concerned. Dick waves them off. Tim takes him at his word and heads to bed (he has a meeting with Wayne Tech at 8am tomorrow, ugh), but Jason sits down next to the bed and asks Dick what he thinks Bruce is going to say. Dick tells him he's not sure, I mean, it's B, y'know? Jason just nods, and they lapse into silence. Then Steph and Cass come in, and Bruce is most noticeably not present. Cass signs something about bed, and Steph tells Dick that she's worried about Bruce, to which Jason snorts and says they all are, but she insists that Dick talk to him. Dick doesn't even need to take more than a moment to decide that won't be happening. But Steph goes to bed, and it's nearly 04:00 when Jason heads up too, saying he'd love to help Dick lecture Bruce about staying out late but he's got stuff to do tomorrow. Dick asks if he wants to know what stuff, and Jason gives him a smirk and says ask him no questions and he'll tell him no lies. Dick can live with that.

As you can see, this is just general staging directions and vibes

This second example was supposed to be for BruDick Week 2024, but I accidentally got carried away and ended up deciding to write a longfic for it instead. The prompt was "brudick meet their AU!selves," so I did 66!brudick meets the Gotham Rogues Polycule, an AU in which Bruce, Dick, and Clark are in a very elaborate polycule with half of Gotham's villains.

Batman and Robin were on a normal mission in the middle of the day, on the trail of Catwoman, who's been stealing from the Gotham Museum of Art again. One moment they were walking into the museum, the next they were in a weird swirl of energy. Robin clings to Batman and asks what's going on, and Batman tells him steady Robin, we just have to stay calm and see what happens. The energy clears as someone calls out “incoming! Clear the floor!” and they find themselves in what is clearly the Cave, except it's even more high tech than anything they've ever seen. There's three people in suits like theirs standing in front of a massive screen, and Robin identifies the Riddler immediately, even if he doesn't recognise the other two. Before Batman can stop him, he charges the Riddler, who jumps behind the man in black and blue with a laugh. Batman does call out for him to stop, but he ignores him. The man in black and blue meets his every move, almost like he's fighting himself, and he calls out to the man in red and blue “a little help here, Supes?”

The biggest difference here is how drastically these fics changed from their zero draft to the first draft rendition, and that is entirely because of how fleshed out they ended up being (or not being, lol)

When I zero drafted the 5+1, it was with the intention of that specific part simply being a chapter, whereas my original zero draft of the 66! meeting the polycule! fic was actually intended to be a two shot at most. I unfortunately lost control of the plot during the first draft of that one, and it spiraled into a longfic, which will become more clear in a bit!

Basically though, the goal of the zero draft is to know who's where and why at all times! With longfics, there is often a restructuring that happens after the zero draft is written, where I move scenes and sometimes whole chapters to their best locations. This is where I make the most use out of a beta! Pacing is a big struggle for me and it is easier to fix at this stage, before I have all the prose and have become attached to what I've written

Next up is the first draft, and this is a whole new document. This is where I write The Actual Words. This is more or less the final version of the fic, for longfics, give or take a few paragraphs and a shit ton of line edits. Having said that though, I write in fits and bursts, because y'know disabled and stuff. So I write a paragraph or two at a time, and I am constantly adding and subtracting words and lines and sometimes whole paragraphs while I am actively working on a chapter

I'm going to show the first draft versions of both of the above fics, and due to the length these will be extremely excerpted but they should serve as examples regardless. Generally speaking, my zero drafts are about 1/3 of the length of my finished fics, however the 5+1 is currently proving to be an exception so that number may not be super accurate

First, the 5+1:

“You did take care of them, right?” Dick asked, groaning when Jason’s mouth thinned as he looked away. “Is Steph at least still with him?” “Last I heard, they were—” Jason started, cutting himself off when the Cave’s alarm signaled the arrival of newcomers. A moment later, two muddy bikes roared into the garage, leaving dark tracks behind them as they parked haphazardly together on the far side of the garage. With the return of Black Bat and Spoiler, the only empty place on the garage floor now belonged to Batman himself. Dick tried to catch Jason’s eyes as they waited in the med bay for Cass and Steph to strip off their suits and join them, but Jason turned away from him, though he didn’t rise from the bed. Something must have gone down after he’d fallen unconscious, Dick was sure of it. Why else would Bruce have sent everyone else home early on a patrol night? He could already see it in his mind’s eye, Batman doing God-knew-what out in Gotham alone, Bruce coming home with a busted lip that Dick would have to personally clean up before they went to bed, how that lip would scab over and feel under his tongue when he kissed Bruce the next morning after waking up in their bed—Bruce’s bed—on accident. How that scab would stretch when the ghost of a smile caught Bruce by surprise after one of Dick’s terrible puns. “You okay?” Steph called across the Cave as she and Cass walked toward the med bay. “Never been better,” Dick replied, trying not to be put out at Jason’s eye roll. He put up a hand for Cass to inspect when she came up to his bedside, and after she had nodded her satisfaction of his health he smiled. “I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

And the 66! meets polycule! fic:

“You!” Robin shouted, not waiting for Batman to back him up as he charged toward the Riddler. Riddler didn't move—in fact, none of the three moved—then Robin was on him, punching his face hard enough to hear a distinct crack. That startled all three into action, Riddler swearing up a storm before throwing himself behind the blue masked man, who blocked Robin's next hits without hesitation. “Robin!” Batman called from somewhere behind him, but Robin ignored him, focusing his energy on striking past the masked man's defenses to get at Riddler. “I know you're behind this, you– you scum!” Robin snarled in Riddler's direction, placing a perfectly timed jab toward the masked man's left cheek and then feinting to the right. But the man met him easily, as though they were merely sparring. “I'm not who you think I am!” Riddler exclaimed, his hands cupping his face but doing little to staunch the blood streaming from his nose. “Let's slow down for a minute, okay?” the masked man said, his voice maddeningly level as if Robin wasn't trying every trick he knew to get past him. “We can explain.” “Yeah kid, there's a good explanation here, we promise,” Riddler added. Robin growled and spun around the  masked man's reach only to find him once again directly blocking him from Riddler. How in the dickens did he know exactly where Robin was going to strike before Robin himself knew? And why on earth was he protecting the Riddler? “Supes, we could use a hand here,” the masked man said, still obnoxiously calm, once again blocking Robin's fist and this time circling his hand around Robin's wrist to twist his arm behind his back. In a blink, Robin was lifted into the air by his collar, the blue and red suited man holding him at arm's length. Robin continued to struggle for a moment, but finally Batman came into view, frowning up at him. Seeing Batman's disapproval took every bit of wind from Robin's sails, and he deflated instantly. If Batman didn't think he needed to fight, then he probably didn't need to.

So as you can see, I just kinda fill in the details with each draft!

Which is where we come to the optional second draft. I try, I really do try, to do a full second draft of everything I write. I always am glad to have done one, once it's done. The problem is, I really do have very limited energy, and anything longer than a chapter or two just doesn't get finished if I try to give it a full second draft. I've instead been doing really vigorous line edits, which I don't have an examples of because those are done in the same document as the first draft!

Now, you're probably wondering why on earth I gave a smut content warning at the beginning of this post. WELL.

I am calling myself out as a newbie when it comes to the art of smut writing. My 5+1 fic, the one where literally every single part has extremely explicit smut, has the following in the zero draft:

Yes, that is not one, not two, but three "cue smuts." Clearly I was new at this (affectionate)

Shout out to past!me for this in the last part though, because at least it actually has some semblance of blocking even if it is still extremely lacking:

The kissing escalates (as it often does) to smut over the desk (though Dick does try to move the documents out of the way, even if Bruce is growling at him to leave it alone; he doesn't want to be the reason Tim has another caffeine-induced breakdown).

I didn't figure this out until I was actually writing this fic, but it turns out I not only need to block in regular action scenes, I also need to block in the smut, because otherwise I will be sitting there having no fucking clue what to write (very affectionate)

So I now present what a zero draft of smut looks like! This is from a 5+1 in which there are five times Bruce and Dick fuck because of Poison Ivy's sex pollen and it "doesn't mean anything," plus one time they fuck because they actually want to:

Dick asks if they can take off their suits, it's too hot he's too hot, and Bruce says okay, that's a good idea, and internally he's panicking because oh no. Oh no. But the moment the words are out he sees the relief in Dick's face, and realises Dick needs to be told what to do right now, so he tells him clearly to strip, it'll help. Once Dick is fully naked in the other seat, he turns to Bruce and asks if he needs help with his armor. His hand is tentatively, almost shyly stroking his cock, and Bruce is really struggling to not watch. He tells him no, he doesn't, and takes off the chest plate and arm armor, but leaves what's left of his leg armor on. He decides he can safely put his hand under his boxers, but Dick makes a little noise, and when he looks over he can clearly see Dick watching him stroke himself. Oh fuck. He's cumming before he even realises it, his boxers getting wet and sticky and his cock still so maddeningly hard and he strokes himself through it, unable to stop himself from moaning even as he tries to keep himself in a clinical mindset. Dick asks to see him, and Bruce, despite knowing what a bad, horrible idea this is, pulls down his boxers to reveal his cock. Dick shifts his hand on his own cock to mimic what Bruce is doing, and Bruce has the horrible realisation that he doesn't even really know how to jerk himself off. Dear God, hopefully Alfred stays the fuck out of the Cave tonight.

So it's really just more of the same general blocking directions and vibes!

Another thing of note for zero drafts, I try to use as few words as possible to get what I need across. These are only ever intended to be seen by myself and a beta, assuming anyone else besides me even sees them at all, so I use slang and shorthand and leave notes for myself in the text itself

This can be a bit weird for when I show it to betas (or anyone else, for that matter!) because there are some fics where the tone or the vocabulary in the zero is incredibly modern despite the fic being in a historical or pre-modern setting!

And I have yet to actually write the first draft of that one, so I'm going to give you the first draft of the "Cue more smut (but this time against the batmobile 😌)" scene so that you can see the difference between the blocking and an Actual Scene:

Bruce had turned his back to him, bracing himself against the batmobile, and Dick took hold of Bruce's hip to hold him steady when he slid a finger into his hole. A soft moan was all he got in verbal response, but Bruce pushed against Dick's finger despite Dick's best efforts to do this slowly. Chuckling under his breath, Dick slid in a second finger, relishing in the clench of Bruce's muscle as he began working him open. “Easy, B,” he said softly, leaning over him enough to move his hand from Bruce's hip to his cock. Bruce growled and arched into his touch, taking in Dick's fingers completely. “Someone's in a rush tonight, huh?” He didn't get a verbal response, not that he ever did. Bruce rarely spoke while full, relying instead on nonverbal communication to indicate his needs. It hadn't taken long for Dick to become acquainted with his movements back when they started this; after all, fucking was no different from fighting, not for them, not when they had flown side by side across Gotham for more than half of Dick's life. And Dick knew Bruce would always try to get him to rush just a little, knew he'd give in like he always did, wanting to have his cock inside Bruce as soon as physically possible just as much as Bruce did. He wasted no more time, sliding his fingers out and releasing Bruce's cock just long enough to slick up his own. The small whine from Bruce at the loss of contact ought to be ignored, ought not be acknowledged, and Dick knew that, but he couldn't resist leaning over to kiss the small of Bruce's back. Bruce huffed at him, glaring over his shoulder. Dick met his eyes with a grin. Then Dick gripped Bruce's hip again, holding him steady while Bruce leaned back to meet him, and slipped into his tight heat. There was a soft moan from Bruce the moment he bottomed out; Dick leaned forward again to kiss up his spine, keeping his cock buried deep even while Bruce began to rock back into him.

I do think the fic for @ful-crum would be easier if I had proper blocking for the smut, but also I do love a good challenge and you live and you learn, so I'm not super invested in going back and blocking in the smut at this point in time!

And honestly, once the line edits are done that's pretty much it!

I keep a little "posting info" doc for each and every fic I write, to which I add tags as I come to them in writing, so that I don't have to think about what needs to be tagged at the end after I've already forgotten what I've written. That has saved my butt so many times ngl, especially for longfics!

But really what keeps me from posting more often, despite how much I write, is that I fully finish fics before I post them, even if I'm posting them on a weekly or whatever basis. This is mostly because I can't guarantee when I'll need to randomly take several months off of writing, and I don't want to leave anything unfinished, but also because I don't want to actually end up leaving something unfinished for a few years until I cycle back into the fandom

And that's it!! Thanks for tuning in to this little master class :) If I can clarify anything please let me know; I tried to explain everything that I thought needed it but I can never tell what others will need more clarification on!!

And also, thanks again for asking this!! I don't know many people who do full drafts, or even many people who don't completely pants everything they write, and so I'm always excited to discuss my process!! I also am a firm believer in "take what helps and leave the rest," so if you find something in my process that sounds like something you'd like to do, give it a whirl!! I think it's super important to share the different kinds of processes there can be for writing, because everyone really writes so differently, you know?

Anyway, thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoyed my shitty early drafts (very affectionate)!!

[quinloki]

Okay, this ship ask game is like, a dream come true. Because now I get to go into la-la-land and you know exactly why. Arlong. The fish-man everyone else loves to hate and I just love to love. 100% going self-ship on this one.

I am going with something a little on the nose (pun not intended) for him, Prompt 25—Write about your ship bathing or swimming together. This....is probably going to go very long because I am running with this for all it is worth.

Now, my man is a fish-man so he has the lovely advantage of pretty much everything when it comes to water. He has built in flippers in not just his feet but his hands as well and the bastard gets to breathe underwater to boot. To top it all off, he's a saw shark with an attitude, so while he must be wary of sea kings he doesn't really need to worry about anything else.

Me on the other hand? I don't know how to swim. Yup, the infamous fish-man snagged himself (or rather he himself was snagged) a woman who cannot swim. This isn't to say I have a devil fruit either. Look, I haven't been to church in a loooooooong time but even I remember, if the devil offers you a fruit you say no and run in the opposite direction of him.

No, I just never bothered learning how to swim. It wasn't that I didn't have ample opportunities, Mom tried desperately to get me to learn. I simply refused. Why? Well, Arlong asked the very same thing one day while we were exploring an island. The question came about as we found a decent-sized, hidden lake in the middle of some woods with what seemed to be a stone-faced "cliff" on one side of it. There was a mini-waterfall from the cliff (it wasn't a cliff, there was a rock formation that had a high point where one could dive off of, but we're in the middle of some woods here).

Arlong was eyeing the lake and I could tell an idea of mischief was forming in his mind. We'd never been swimming together. Not once. Long ago he had asked why I seemed to avoid water as if it itself were a plague. I eventually, sheepishly told him I didn't know how to swim. That was a half-truth. He thought all this time I was afraid of going near water because I didn't know how to swim.

So, now I was trapped and had to explain he had it backwards. I don't know how to swim because I'm afraid of the water. The way he looked at me. I swear that information took him 10 minutes to process. I'm a moron, I should have taken that lengthy interval to put as much distance between me and that lake as humanly possible. But I just stood there waiting for Arlong to react. I was mostly waiting for him to laugh at me, because who ever heard of something so ridiculous?

Finally his brain unfritzes, "so, are you afraid of what's in the water? Like regular sharks or something?" Well, at least he wasn't laughing, yet.

"Nope. I love sharks, you of all people should know that—" he grimaces here, fully remembering how we first met, I may or may not have traumatized him inadvertently. "I am genuinely afraid of the water itself. I know for a fact, it wants to kill me."

He raises an eyebrow, "a fact huh? You're afraid of the actual, water." The last word is pointed, he's either trying really hard not to laugh at me or his opinion of me just plummeted. Whichever it is, I'm getting embarrassed and try to stomp off away from him to go cry somewhere.

Alas, Arlong is exactly two-and-a-half-feet taller than me. He overtakes me in one stride, the bastard. "Hey now, I wasn't mocking you. I'm just trying to get a handle on this is all. I certainly wasn't expecting water to be the culprit here." He deftly wipes away a tear with his thumb before it has a chance to fall down my cheek.

I do what I do best and bottle up the emotions, swallowing the rest of the tears down. In my head, he's mocking me but in actuality he isn't. He's being very calm.

Arlong lets out a sigh. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a swim, but I guess that's been rendered moot."

"Arlong, we don't have a spare set of clothes on hand."

"We wouldn't be swimming in our clothes, this isn't a party with booze and crew."

"Arlong, are you suggesting skinny dipping on a gods forsaken island?"

He looks away with a crafty glint in his eye and shrugs, "we're the only ones here and it's not like we haven't seen each other in the nude before." He looks back at me and stares intently into my eyes, I just now those icy blues of his mean no good right now. "We still could y'know." He gives one of his toothy smirks.

A normal person, a normal human no less, would have a chill of fear go down their spine because of those smirks. Not me, I just about melt. Just as I'm getting ready to remind him that I. Cannot. Swim. He beats me to the punch.

"Look, I'm a fish-man for crying out loud. I can breathe under the water and swim better than anything on this island. I'm not saying I'll teach you how to swim, I'm pretty sure that ship sailed and sank long ago (I flip him off at this). What I'm proposing is, you allow me to hold onto you in the water. I swear to you, I will not let go and I will not let your head go below the water."

Now, it's my turn to get crafty. I use what little feminine wiles I have and coyly stare back, "can I hold onto your dorsal fin?"

Arlong rolls his eyes, "what is it with you and my dorsal fin, woman?"

"I like it! It's sexy."

"All sharks have a dorsal fin. Are all sharks sexy then?"

"No."

"Then what the hell is it about mine?!"

"You really want to have this conversation now?"

"What conversation? How is this a conversation? I'm so confused, are we swimming or not?"

"Can I hold onto your dorsal fin?"

"No."

"Aw c'mon Arlong! Just this once!"

Facepalming as he realizes he brought this upon him self for allowing himself to fall for a lowly human, he heaves an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Clothes off, hold onto the dorsal fin, and I'll swim you around the lake. Then we do it my way, fair?"

Grinning like I just won the lottery I practically shout "deal!"

And true to his word, Arlong swims me around the lake with me holding onto his dorsal fin on his back. After a few laps, he pulls me into his arms and holds me tightly against his chest as he lazily swims in the lake, his back facing the lake floor so that I can practically lay down on his chest as if he were a floating pool lounge chair. It's mildly awkward because I don't want to wrap my arms around his neck or shoulders because that's where the gills are and I don't want to interfere with those.

Arlong chuckles, which feels like a low earthly tremor radiating from his body into mine, "so that's why you wanted to hold onto my dorsal fin. To avoid the gills?"

"Guilty as charged."

"Go ahead then, I don't mind. And for the record, you can't impinge breathing and you won't hurt the gills either. They're not that fragile. I'm a shark not a goldfish."

Now it's my turn to laugh, "you know technically speaking, fish who can breathe in the air can only do so temporarily. They have a special organ for it and everything. The critters than have both gills for breathing underwater and lungs for breathing on land are usually newts and some other versions of salamanders. So, technically you're an amphibian and not a fish."

"I hate you."

"I love you too Arlong."

Okay this was a treat. I don't even really know what to say to it. I love how well you balance the vibe of Arlong with the function of a full on relationship.

I LOVE the splitting hairs about classifications too, that just tickles me pink xD

Bathing/swimming with your ship hmm... Marco x reader style: Bathing isn't really the right word for it. He doesn't mind relaxing in the tub with you on occasion, but he really loves showering together. He loves getting to basically preen over you and clean you himself, teasing and touching and snuggling at the same time.

Spare moments are short, and he'd rather tangle up in one another arms and cuddle in bed, instead of cuddle in the tub. Preferring to run his fingers through your drying hair, and not your wet hair.

Not that he rushes shower time, he certainly takes his time, and he doesn't deny you the pleasure of returning the favor of cleaning him if you want. But he doesn't exactly make it easy for you, touching and teasing in return as you work.

Cuddling, admittedly, is not usually the first order of business once you're both out of the shower, and sometimes what you end up doing sends you right back in for another - albeit shorter and more focused shower.

ask game post

[sanisse]

You talk about bonds in your writings a lot? What are these exactly? Like sexual, matrimonial, familial? What do they do and how are they formed? At least in your opinion or even maybe textually?

I’m so curious!

aaaa! I love meta and lore questions, thank you!

I do make use of Bonds a lot because I find them to be such a fascinating concept. Tolkien really didn't say much other than the fact that elves form "indissoluble bonds" when they get married and have sex. He also heavily implies that elvish children have similar bonds with their parents. Tolkien writes "therefore... [a child's soul]... draws nourishment from their parents before the birth of the child: directly from the mother...and mediately from the father" (Laws and Customs).

As far as I'm aware of, that's really the only definitive information we have there. Pretty much everything else floating around is fanon. My own headcannons are as follows:

I take "indissoluble bonds" to mean spiritual bonds, linking souls to one another inextricably.

Every soul has a certain color. This is just my personal preference when I'm writing to distinguish them. For instance, Celebrian is silver-colored. Elrond is starlight-colored before he receives Vilya, but post-Vilya, it is gold. Gil-Galad is kind of an indigo color. So, kind of like auras, I guess? It's hard to explain.

For sexy reasons (and because it makes things a lot less complicated), I headcannon that Elves can withhold bond-forming when they're having sex if they just want to have casual sex.

I apply the theory of Quantum Entanglement from physics to Bonds, because I think it's Neat. -- "groups of particles are generated, interact, or share spatial proximity in a way such that the quantum state of each particle of the group cannot be described independently of the state of the others, including when the particles are separated by a large distance"

So, just from a fun fantasy play application, I like to say that Elves who are bonded to each other have access to and basically simultaneously feel (more or less) each other's thoughts, wishes, desires, emotions, and sometimes even physical experiences. Bonds can cause internal (mental, emotional, etc.) pain if strained or stretched, either under emotional duress, conflict, long periods of physical distance, or long periods of emotional distance. This feeling gets worse and worse the more times that passes.

This applies to both married couples and parents and children. So, say your SO or child is in distress or particularly wants/needs/is looking for you, you can feel that, and it'll prompt you to go to them and see what the matter is.

In terms of other sexy applications: couples act as facing mirrors. Pleasure is volleyed and amplified in bonded sex (vs unbonded sex where it's just normal). Partners feel each other's orgasms as well as their own.

Bonds can be formed intentionally for children which are not biological -- so adoptive bonds! You can also just have this be a platonic sort of Bond between adults, too. The process is a little different (romantic bonds are formed during sex, but platonic bonds I kind of headcannon as...like walking through a door, if that makes sense? Like the adoptive parent will step up to the child's psyche & soul and just sort of knock, and the child can choose to let them in or not to form the bond). Both parties must be willing, though.

Bonds are webbed. So, for instance, Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen are all bonded as siblings, and bonded to their parents. Via their parents, they are also bonded to their grandparents (and would be to aunts & uncles if they had them). I headcannon that bonds get weaker the farther along the tree you get, but they all do link together.

In the case of adoptive bonds - in order to fully hook up to the rest of the family group chat, you have to be bonded to both living parents. If you're only bonded to one, then you only receive the bond to that person, rather than the whole family. It just feels very Tolkien to me.

Bonds can't be dissolved, but they can be shut down by either party. This is very painful and stressful, but it does happen -- usually when one partner is in a great deal of physical or emotional pain and wants to shield the other party from it.

I feel like there's definitely more here that I have to say in terms of how I use Bonds when I'm writing but that's all of the top of my head, lol!

[bookishjules]

thank you for tag @amchara !! <3 i loved reading through your answers :)

How many works do you have on ao3?

13, but most of them are drabbles

What’s your total ao3 word count?

32,369

What fandoms do you write for?

Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus, The Shadowhunter Chronicles

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Percy to the Rescue

Here Without You

Napkins and Notebooks

A Different Kind of Adventure

Your Lyrics have Arrived

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

It may take awhile, but if a comment is worthy of or necessitates a response, I will absolutely respond to it, yes <3

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Acceptance, but really it's so short that the whole thing is just an angsty ending for malec

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably A Different Kind of Adventure. Percabeth figuring out life together brings me a special kind of joy.

Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't yet

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I hadn't, but one of my wips may or may not include smut... like I'm writing it, but we'll see if I have the confidence to publish it, you know? I honestly could not tell you what kind, though, given that I am quite new at this.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not currently?? but I have in the past. I wrote one in high school that was simultaneously next gen Percy Jackson and Harry Potter, where percabeth's kid gets into Hogwarts in the same year as Albus and Scorpius and Rose.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think I'm really prolific or known enough for that to have happened yet lol

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, sir

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't, but it seems like it would be fun! Honestly, it's probably just a matter of time lbr (@221bornottobe i'm looking at you)

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Percabeth <3 ( but also sizzy)

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

IVY!!! my beloved accursed fic that pulled me deep into my fairondale obsession despite originating as a ghostwriter endgame fic. If I ever do finish it, it will be as a very different fic than the one i began two years ago, which means that this story I had in my head will itself never be finished.

What are your writing strengths?

Can I crowd source this answer? Honestly, I'm not sure (this feels like a cop-out answer, but honestly I just have a hard time knowing what I'm good at)

What are your writing weaknesses?

Endings!!!! As you may be able to tell by the fact that my longest finished fic is under 2k.. I have been told by writing professors that I have weak endings, and now they scare me to write. Also.. spilling too much of what's in the pov character's head, I think. They work through things internally that may be better as a show-don't-tell thing, but my instinct is always to explain. There are other things, I'm sure..

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it can really help a fic when some dialogue or words are in another language, when it fits, obviously. Other than that, I don't really have any thoughts!

First fandom you wrote for?

Honestly, I think it might have been Ella Enchanted. Either that or Percy Jackson. I would have been 14. Before that, any writing was pretty much original, I think.

Favorite fic you’ve written?

Here Without You, hands down. It's not finished yet, but it's been my entire heart this whole year. It's made me feel more confident with writing fics that are a bit more long form (which I needed), it's helped me process things for myself and for Leo, and it's really everything I needed for his storyline. .. Though, I will say, runner up has to go to The Chronicles of Lena and Jules, the PJO self-insert fanfic that I wrote during chemistry class in 10th grade about my best friend and I, and that I would hand her installments of every day as we passed in the hall.. not because of the quality or the storyline, but for the mems <3

Tagging: @potato-jem @captain-jackson @berylgrace @timelesslords and whoever else wants to join in! (also @iminlovewithpercyjackson and @221bornottobe ik you both only have one fic up on ao3, so I didn't initially tag you, but feel free to go for it anyway :))

[plothooksinc]

For the writing ask meme - 1, 7, 17? :3

Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

...I have never given thought to this before. 8|a But let's face it, I am firmly in the hurt/comfort bracket, with plenty of hurt, no damsels if I can manage it (sorry Leo all your bones were broken before I got to you!) and badassery with a side of humour, followed by plenty of comfort. This is the sort of thing I really enjoy writing, but I also want to make sure every fic I write is different. So some fics won't fit this mold at all, but you'll definitely get elements of it on the way through. ♥

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

FLYNNE COMING AT ME WITH THE HARD STUFF UHHH--

okay, so. In most fics I write there's parts that I'm proud of. So the most recent one-- that I look at and go "shit, I actually pulled that off"-- would be in Chapter 14 of NRFTW when Donnie gets hijacked thoroughly by the Technodrome and is trying very hard to sever himself away from the horror that is more or less being turned into a pile of bloody spaghetti--he forgets himself. Tiny spark inside his own mind just noping out, until Raph forces his way in and goes no. (This is long and I can't get the Read More to work, so I apologise):

---------

<<intruder alert>>

<<mystic anomaly detec--*(&$#$---|||>>

Shut up.

The darkness split in half, awash with blinding light, and it stared uncomprehending at the (light?  familiar?  what was--)

it hurt

but it wanted—

reached for it before it thought better, sadness

lost

(what is colour?)

There you are.

who—

light—

(Red.  It’s red.)

C’mon, you know who I am.  You’ve never been stupid, Donnie.

who?

You.   Here—

The light reached out and touched it.  It saw:

A green, lanky (host)(familiar?) tapping away at (spare parts), talking almost too fast, his (fuel) staring back at him in confusion. 

“--Looks like we have a 317-39.4 in progress.  Oh, come on.  Has nobody read Donnie's big book of bad guy codes?  Nobody?”

“Nope.”

“Never gonna happen--”

oh

Yeah, ‘oh’.  Come back to me—

I’m Donnie?

Oh, bud…

--------

There is too much of this chapter to include as a snippet, so this is a smaller part-- both Donnie's descent into semi-madness and depersonalisation and his mangled thought processes that are overlaid with the Technodrome's to the point you can't separate one from the other that happens just before this piece, where Raph slams his way into what's left of Donnie's mind space and gives him the anchor he desperately needs, and the prose shifts from abstract to a little more formed to Donnie being an it to being a he to being Donnie and then finally them holding a conversation in normal formatting. This whole section? Was not in my original outline for NRFTW. Donnie's attempt to find a cure was gonna be largely offscreen and I thought, nah. That's boring. That's anti-climactic. And then one day I pinged my beta and said "So hey what if I did this" and she screamed at me and we had a winner.

Me: Well, this sure is some weird shit I've never tried to write in my life Me: I have no idea how to do this Me: I'LL WING IT

And the whole thing about writing is: even if you think you probably can't do it, you can still approach it with the philosophy of fake it until you make it and then you might find, actually, that you can. And so this was a section I got to the end of and went "Shit. I did that." And I was so nervous about it, but it turned out brilliantly, and so I now I go back and I look at it and went "Fuck yes, I did that," so I'm proud of it.

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Start to finish! The only time I haven't done this is with my original stuff, in which I've bounced around a few times in order to get the worldbuilding correct in a place before I actually go there. I find start to finish is good because that way I can easily change direction as I go, or seed things in to have them bear fruit later in an organic kind of way, and half the time I subconsciously add little side bits that I realise later I can totally do something awesome with, etc etc. Sometimes I write stories that start halfway through the story and then we have chapters/flashbacks of "and here's how we got there" but that's still start to finish, just the chronology of the story itself jumps around. This works for me. Other ways work for other people!

Thank you! <3

Meme for Fic Writers here.

[munsonmuses]

Saturday Night Lights

This is part four in our Dan and the barista series, it’s the kind of midpoint of the bridge, there’s a bond forming.

Warnings: NONE! Unless you count a super sweet kiss????

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Carefully combing through your hair, you lightly checked the time. Like you had been done basically every minute that passed by. Dan having texted an hour ago that he’d be there at six.

Carefully spritzing yourself down with perfume and fluffing your hair again before nodding lightly to yourself. “Yeah, yeah that’ll work. That’ll work out just fine and uh, shit-“ you frowned deeply as you checked the time again. It was five thirty. And although dressed, prepped and ready to go, you felt completely unready.

Dan had refused to tell you what the date was, where you were going, just to dress nice-ish. That’s exactly what the text said.

‘It’s a surprise! Dress nice-ish.’

Carefully heading to your living room, you sat and waited quietly. Twiddling your thumbs and frowning deeply to yourself.

At five forty five he came knocking, carefully holding a small bouquet of flowers from Ralph’s, and a nice pair of jeans with a white leather jacket with black detailing. He looked absolutely terrified when you opened the door.

“I got these for you? Then I thought you might be allergic to flowers, but then thought I should bring something.” He insisted as he carefully handed them to you as you laughed.

It was endearing, how nervous and sweet he was. How hard he was trying to come off as prepared and suave. “It’s okay-“ you assured as you took them gently.

He gently took your hand, nodding as if to say “it’s time”, and carting you off.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The hour long drive felt like minutes, as Dan carefully drove the two of you across the city. Talking about little things.

“So we had to try these KitKats, from around the world okay? This sounds insane I know. But after like twenty I thought I was dying. Straight up dying. And I couldn’t control my like face? So I looked so pathetic.” He laughed as you snorted with laughter beside him.

It was fascinating how enraptured he was about talking, every story he told had depth to it.

“Oh uh, we’re here.” He pointed forward.

“I found this, makeshift drive in movie theatre. So it’s one on one, and we can talk about the things that are happening. I talk a little during movies, because I need to verbalize for my brain to process.” He explained softly causing you to smile.

“I do the exact same thing. It helps me visualize what’s going on. And I really really love how you get that.” You insisted as he was reaching in the backseat, pulling out snacks carefully.

“I love you…r optimism. And understanding.” Dan said rapidly as he frowned to himself.

And you just smiled, it was endearing how sweet he was. And how open he was with words. In videos you’d watched, you’d realized how often he said the words to people, how emotional he truthfully was.

The movie started as you both faced forward, eyes glued to the showing of Dirty Dancing

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Half of the movie had gone by, as you both talked about how idiotic the premise was, and the strangeness of their relationships were.

“But who am I to talk you know? I waited for you almost every day to come by coffee, and sweet talk you, and…” you closed your eyes before feeling a warm set of eyes on you.

Turning to face him as he slowly put his hand on your thigh. The other cupping your face as he leaned in. Kissing you softly. And you didn’t even think to pull away. He tasted like mint, from the York peppermint he’d eaten, which you’d expressed distaste for earlier. But now the taste was warm, comforting.

You eagerly deepened the kiss, pulling hun closer as you leaned over the console. Pressing into him as his tongue made its way into your mouth.

The movie went silent, the crowd around fell away entirely, and you were so very happy. Because holy shit, seven months of pining has become something else.

Pulling away for air, Dan carefully pressed his forehead to yours. “I think I love you…” he said calmly.

And you were happy. Patrick Swayze in the background, but the only man you could even fathom being attracted too, was right in front of you.

[page-reader]

Admitting my Downfalls-I am not a Collective (a personal essay on mathematics and feminism)

As a proud feminist and someone that has researched the gender bias in stem, more specifically mathematics, I need to admit my downfalls.

My ill thinking. It might seem long ago, and it definitely is, but that is not an excuse. Throughout middle school it always confused me as to why we needed diversity in mathematics. If we all do the same procedures to get the same equations why does it matter where we come from? How do our past experiences shape the way that we do math?

The easy feminist (and phycologist) answer:

It was a form of internalized misogyny-or rather taking in what the teachers around me told me.

Ironic that my middle school social studies teacher said that women shouldn't study mathematics, and I internalized that hate. These comments were often directed toward my woman middle school algebra teacher, in classic boomer fashion, he labeled the millennial generation as lazy. But he had to have known young impressionable minds were listening.

And those young impressionable minds included me, a girl who wanted to pursue math. A girl who's dream job in 8th grade was a statistican.

It's ironic coming from that old history teacher, a man and a female dominated industry, that being elementary education, to tell others that they should not be pursuing their field of study simply because of their gender. If he was not a hypocrite, he would see that if he took his own words to be truth, he should have not been studying the social sciences, he should have not been teaching the social sciences to a bunch of 12-year-olds.

There was a lot of other problematic things with that teacher, he told us that the civil war was simply about states rights, never expanding upon what the states rights were (it is of course states rights to own a slave). But I was young and impressionable and his impact was more than I thought it was.

But enough about him, this is about me admitting my own ill failings. So what was the point of having a diverse mathematics community? If we all do the same equations why does it matter where we come from.

Instead, approach the topic from the idea that if we all do the same mathematics then mathematics is for *everyone*. However, I'm not going to stand here and preach that we all do mathematics the same, as we do not live in a vacuum.

We may eventually get the same answer, but our thought processes are completely different. It's hard for me to explain my train of thought at times, I might be because I'm undiagnosed dyslexic. I would not be a great professor. I can show my work, but I can't say it out loud. I can't write it in words, but I can write it an equations. I can't express my ideas verbally, I struggle with writing them down too (this essay is a testament to that), so how am I to explain my thoughts process? But what I do know is my thought process might be completely different from another's, because of my background.

I'm a feminist and I believe women are not a collective, people are not a collective.

Then why can this sentiment not be expanded to people of other disciples. Why must mathematicians be a collective too? We all do not walk, talk and think the same, so why must our math be the same?

Our past experiences also help us define our areas of research.

Maybe it all does come back to my middle school social studies teacher, because that hate that he instilled in me is the reason why I like to research gender equality. Those ideas that he put in my mind is the reason that I want to dispute them. I strive to always unlearn and re-educate myself.

I like researching gender equality, I like researching feminist politics, I like researching leftism, and I eventually do want to combine those in the future somehow. I don't know how. But our backgrounds do shape our interests, they do shape of what we want to study and our areas of research, and they also do shape how we do math.

Because our backgrounds shape our mathematical knowledge. It shapes our understanding and love for the subject. It shapes our interests and biases and research. Our backgrounds shape the things close to us, what we advocate for and love. It shapes us, thus it shapes our math as well.

To summarize...why does diversity matter in mathematics? Because we are not a collective. Because I am not a collective.

(If this essay might seem to be missing some information to some, you are not wrong! I am currently writing about the discrimination racial and gender minorities have faced for studying mathematics, and how we can overcome this systemic issue. This historic systemic bias also plays a role in why diversity is needed in mathematics, because unpursued talent due to discrimination leads to a weaker mathematics community. Diversity is needed because of our historic failings/mistreatment.)

As a footnote I want to say the inspiration behind the phrase "I am not a collective" comes from a Mexican feminist speech. A place a content warning for the following topics: mentions is sexual assault, femicide, murder, rape

Here is the link to her speech: https://youtu.be/j0E5RztXEko