#here’s the truth about freelance writing

[impcoffeeandcake]

Side Hustles, Freelance Writing, and a Career

I can't count the number of times where someone—either on a Reddit thread or face-to-face—has said, "I love writing. I write poetry and short stories all the time. How can I start freelance writing?" 🤦🏽‍♀️

I have to stop myself and take a step Back to realize that

(a) most people don’t realize that digital marketing and SEO are a thing

(b) most people don’t realize that professional writing is deceptively easy and

(c) The same people telling you that content writing is an easy side hustle are probably trying to shill their course.

The truth is that your learning curve could be anywhere from nonexistent to really steep. It all depends on your base level of reading comprehension, grammar, life experience, and how much you actually read.

As a professional writer in any capacity, your job is to communicate, but that skill alone is deceptively simple, too. You have to know your audience, anticipate their needs, and understand search intent. You'll also have to keep up with social media–which means you'll be using TikTok, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and Clubhouse for a living when you’re not writing.

And when you’re not writing, scrolling through social media, you'll be reading. Like, read everything¯boxes of cereal, gossip magazines, blog posts about everything from cooking to CNC Machining. And also listen to podcasts about all the above.

After you’ve done all that, you should probably look for local festivals and cultural events to attend. And when you’re there, be sure to brush up on your people skills, smile, and talk to random people. The more life experience you have to draw from, the better. After all, you can’t pull your writing out of thin air.

Oh, and these in-person events should also be in a particular niche, too. No one wants an Brewing Espresso 101 review of the coffee festival you just attended. The best pieces of content, the ones that rank, are from either subject matter experts (SMEs) or connoisseurs.

Now do you still want to be a content writer? 😂

[hunnylagoon]

Take Me to War

PT1 Friendly Fire

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.

Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.

PT 2 Here!

Two things I hate the most?

My neighbour and New York City.

They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.

I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.

It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.

I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.

I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.

It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.

Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.

The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.

I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.

Trust me, I have retaliated.

On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.

Almost.

I still hate it.

I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.

"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"

"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."

This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"

My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."

"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"

Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.

"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."

"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.

"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-

She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.

"Is everything alright?"

"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.

"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-

"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.

"Wait-

Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.

I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.

The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.

I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.

Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.

My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.

The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.

"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.

"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."

"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."

"What about the wall?"

Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."

I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."

"Okay?"

I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.

That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.

-

I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.

Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.

Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.

My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.

"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.

"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.

"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.

I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.

"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."

I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.

"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.

This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."

"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"

The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.

"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.

"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"

"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"

"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.

"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."

"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"

I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.

Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.

The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.

"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."

"Where's here exactly?"

"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.

I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"

"To make it out alive."

"And your name?"

"It's Ellie."

-

That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.

However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.

She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.

I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."

"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.

We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."

"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.

"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.

"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"

"Yeah, you've said-

"Do you wanna come and see?"

I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"

"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."

I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."

"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.

Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.

I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.

On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.

She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.

There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.

"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."

I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."

She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."

"Because I'd win?"

She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."

"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.

Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."

"Who are you talking to?"

"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.

"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."

"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."

"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"

"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."

"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."

"Okay, well-

"So you're like Logan Paul?"

Her eyes go wide "No-

"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."

"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."

I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"

Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.

The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.

My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."

A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!

[thankskenpenders]

As I'm sure many of you are already aware, Did You Know Gaming (who have been doing some really great investigative work lately) recently put out a video on canceled Sonic games. The whole thing's worth a watch, but I have to bring it up here specifically because they talk about the plans for Sonic Chronicles 2 with a LOT of new info directly from the lead designer.

The section on how the story of Sonic Chronicles 2 would have went starts at 9:45. It's very interesting! He outlines the whole plot, including the fact that they were going to end with ANOTHER obvious plot hook for a sequel in the hopes that they or some other studio could keep the Sonic Chronicles series going indefinitely. Sonic Team even claimed they were interested in using Chronicles characters like Shade in other games. It's crazy to imagine a timeline where this might have become a pillar of the franchise.

I refuse to mourn the loss of the sequel, though, because y'all saw me stream the original. It was miserable. And with the original game selling and reviewing decently well, they would have had little reason to go back to the drawing board and overhaul that game's bizarrely hateful design.

Of course, DYKG also had to talk about the reason why the game was canceled. I was dreading this because of how often people tend to get the basic facts of the Penders cases wrong or downplay the obvious Archie Knuckles inspiration in Chronicles. But no, they did their homework! And they got the details right in part because, well... they asked Penders for comment directly. And he sent them back a MASSIVE wall of text about the whole ordeal, including some fascinating details that I don't believe I've heard before!

You can go to 15:19 in the video and scrub through to read the many, MANY screencaps of their emails from Ken, but here are the most interesting and/or hilarious tidbits to me:

#1: Perjury!

As we already knew, Ken claimed that the incomplete, photocopied contract Archie presented in court was a forgery, and that he had never signed a work for hire contract.

The judge obviously knew that one side had to be lying here, and thus was more than willing to present the case to a jury to let them decide the truth... and send whoever was deemed the liar to jail for perjury. (The judge apparently looked Ken directly in the eye when he said this, which... well, make of that what you will.)

Archie's lawyers knew that they didn't have a completely airtight case and obviously did not want to go to jail. So they decided to settle instead of going to trial in front of a jury.

(I will reiterate that Archie's arguments not working out is overall a GOOD thing, because we really do not want to set a legal precedent where corporations can "lose" a contract for a creator, make up a story about what was on the contract, and then have that hold up in court. They gotta get that shit in writing. And they didn't. They fucked up!)

#2: Sega was threatening to revoke the Sonic license!

As we knew, Sega wanted nothing to do with the comic copyright lawsuit. To them, it was Archie's job as licensee to deal with their freelancers. (Y'all watch Succession? You know how Logan loves lackeys who will eat shit for him without him having to even hear about the problem? Yeah.) And, in fact, according to Ken, Sega gave Archie an ultimatum: if they wanted their license to make Sonic comics renewed, they were gonna have to deal with Ken on their own, and cover all the costs.

Yeah, uh, this kinda makes me think that Sega being pissed about the ongoing Scott Fulop copyright case in 2016 may have been a bigger factor in Archie Sonic's cancellation than I previously thought. There was a lot going on at the time that could have contributed, but, y'know.

Anyway, Archie sued Ken for "damaging their business" largely because Sega was threatening to take away the Sonic IP. But because Archie couldn't ask Sega for help and they couldn't produce an original contract, they had to settle.

There's another detail I find funny here, though. Ken WANTED Sega to get involved in the comic copyright case, thinking that Sega would strongarm Archie into paying him the millions of dollars he wanted for "using his work without permission" so that they could be done with it. I mean, sure. I guess Sega wouldn't have cared about Archie's finances, but still. I'm not so sure that would've worked out for him.

#3: Shade!

Yes, Penders still claims he legally owns Shade, and under advice from his lawyer still intends to put out an NFT of her to put his claim to the test. Yes, it's incredible that he still hasn't put out the damn NFT. It only needs to be one image, which he already drew! The market has collapsed!

Anyway, building an argument off the legal concept of estoppel, he says that if Sega continues to not do anything about his claims that he owns Shade then, in the eyes of the court, they'll be forfeiting their claims to Shade altogether. But they aren't going to do anything because they never wanted any part in the copyright battles in the first place, and to them Chronicles is a long dead asset not worth fighting over. Why bother trying to use Shade again and giving Ken a reason to take them back to court when they can just move on? It's not like this franchise is short on characters. And so Ken can say that Shade and Julie-Su are literally the same character, and if he owns Julie-Su then therefore he also owns Shade.

Our copyright system is, indeed, a nightmare. Chronicles should have been halfway to the public domain by now.

#4: Sega's oversight on the Archie comics!

Ken says that in his first year on the series Sega only requested some dialogue changes here and there through the editor. They never requested huge script changes, and also never spoke to Ken directly. After that first year, they stopped asking for dialogue changes altogether, and Ken "had a free hand to do pretty much whatever he wanted." Yeah, no surprise there.

He does, however, say that Archie's original deal with Sega stated that they weren't allowed to create ANY new Sonic characters without informing Sega. They would've needed to make a contract every single time to get Sega's approval and make it absolutely crystal clear that Sega owned the whole cast. And then Archie just... didn't do that! And didn't tell any of the freelance creatives not to come up with new characters! Had Archie followed this rule, the trajectory of the comics would have been completely different, but there also never would've been a copyright battle in the first place.

What a shitshow. Truly.

[bitchesgetriches]

Getting a job:

How to Write a Resume so You Actually Have a Prayer of Getting Hired

How to Write a Cover Letter like You Actually Want the Job

Ask the Bitches: What the Hell Else Can I Do to Get a Job?

How to Frame Volunteering on Your Resume When You’ve Never Had a Job

How To Get Ready For a Job Interview: Prep Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself

Common Job Interview Questions and How to Answer Them with the Confidence of a Mediocre White Dude

10 Questions You Should Never Be Asked in a Job Interview

What to Wear (and What Not to Wear) to a Job Interview

What to Do When You’re Asked About Your Salary Requirements in a Job Interview

How NOT to Determine Your Salary

How to Find Remote Work: On Getting the Elusive Work-From-Home Job

High School Students Have No Way of Knowing What Career to Choose. Why Do We Make Them Do It Anyway?

The Actually Helpful, Nuanced, Non-Bullshit Way to Choose a Future Career

Myers-Briggs Personalities and Income: What Your Type Says About Your Salary

I Just Applied for a Job. How (And When) Should I Follow Up?

Our Best Secrets for a Successful, Strategic, and SHORT Job Search

Season 2, Episode 11: “I Tripped and Fell into a Career I Don’t like. How Do I Reinvent Myself?”

Freelancing and side jobs:

Should Artists Ever Work for Free?

Stop Undervaluing Your Freelance Work, You Darling Fool

Romanticizing the Side Hustle: When 1 Job Isn’t Enough

The Ugly Truth About Unpaid Internships

Freelancer, Protect Thyself… With a Fair Contract

Ask the Bitches: My Boss Won’t Give Me a Contract and I’m Freaking Out

I Lost My Job and It Might Be the Best Worst Thing That’s Ever Happened to Me

Becoming a Millennial Entrepreneur (in the Midst of a Pandemic) with Katelyn Magnuson

11 Awful Mistakes I Made as a Self-Employed Freelancer, and How YOU Can Avoid Them

Workplace benefits:

Workplace Benefits and Other Cool Side Effects of Employment

Your School or Workplace Benefits Might Include Cool Free Stuff

Your Yearly Free Medical Care Checklist

Dafuq Is a Retirement Plan and Why Do You Need One?

How to Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Season 2, Episode 6: “Someone Offered to Mentor Me! How Do I Be a Non-Sucky Mentee?”

Navigating the workplace:

My Secret Weapon for Preparing for Awkward Boss Confrontations

Are You Working on the Next Fyre Festival?: Identifying a Toxic Workplace

Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job

Can Looking Weird at Work Be Good for Your Career?

Why Is Short Hair Controversial? An Examination of Expensive, Annoying Beauty Standards

Season 1, Episode 1: “Should I Tell My Boss I’m Looking for Another Job?”

You WILL Regret Accepting Your Coworker’s Social Media Friend Request

Season 1, Episode 5: “I Don’t Love My Job, but It Pays Well. Should I Quit—or Tough It Out?”

Season 2, Episode 7: “How Do I Throw My Incompetent Coworkers under the Bus?”

Sexual Harassment: How to Identify and Fight It in the Workplace

Getting a raise:

Salary Range: Are You Asking for Enough?

A Millennial’s Guide to Growing Your Salary

The First Time I Asked for a Raise

You Need to Ask for a Fucking Raise

Should You Increase Your Salary or Decrease Your Spending?

Getting a promotion:

Santa Isn’t Coming and Neither Is Your Promotion: How To Get Promoted

How I Chessmastered Myself Into a Promotion at Work

Job Hopping vs. Career Loyalty by the Numbers

The Fascinating Results of Our Job Hopping vs. Career Loyalty Poll

I Hate My Job and I Don’t Know How To Leave It: A Confession

A New Job, a New Day, a New Life, and I’m Feeling Good

Season 1, Episode 9: “I’ve Given up on My Dream Career. Where Do I Go From Here?”

Working remotely

How to Successfully Work from Home Without Losing Your Goddamn Mind (Or Your Job)

How to Find Remote Work: On Getting the Elusive Work-From-Home Job

8 Genres of Productivity Music (Plus Our Secret Stash of Personal Favorites)

My 25 Secrets to Successfully Working from Home with ADHD

[ssivinee]

✧The Dancer to the Music✧

BEBE! Kim Taeyoung, aka Tatter x Composer! Producer! F Reader: After not seeing each other for so long, you surprised your best friend at her studio. Work had been rough the past few days so you assumed seeing your friend could fix that, but it was someone else that does.

Word Count: 3.5k

Note: Ahhhhh, my first Tatter fic. Tatter simps rise😌. My other gf needs some love, too. I've done my civil duties and will now go to bed🙃

Character Vision Board

Being a composer in the music scene was always a dream of yours. While growing up, your parents surrounded you with the beauty of instruments and melodies. So it was evident for you to pick up your talents due to your parent's infatuation with music. Yet you never wanted the fame of being a singer, so you stuck to staying behind the scenes, writing music for several artists.

You sat in your cold studio, sipping on the hard hitting energy drink as you stared at the computer screen. Eyes never wavering at the sight of several color-codded melodies. The song felt bare and not up to your standards, causing a groan of frustration to emerge.

I need a break, was all you thought before leaving your room. You walked around the current building you were working at, the famous SM Entertainment. 2 years ago, you were merely a freelance composer, taking any project handed your way.

An SM representative then got ahold of you, saying they've been keeping an eye on you for a while and had a proposition for you. Before you knew it, a week later, you were signing a contract under the entertainment, becoming an in-house composer and producer, even gaining your first big shot project.

Better by BoA.

After the release, more and more tasks were flowing your way, SM making sure you had work to do 24/7. So now you were here, trying to piece together something for NCT's Ten.

As much as you loved your job, you couldn't deny hitting a stump. Truth be told, this happened quite often, but you usually got over it after a day or two. Yet it had been a week, and you had nothing but a simple chord progression and bass that was spaced out.

You make your way over to the hallway full of dance studios, trying to clear your mind, and you think of the perfect people to do so. Entering the room, you hear the soft volume of a song and see some of your favorite friends in the company.

"Oh shoot, nice to see you out of your cave," Jeno jokes at the sight of you after being trapped in the studio for 7 hours straight. "Dude, leave her alone," Bada says, approaching you to encase you in a warm hug.

"Seriously though, you didn't leave that room since you got here this morning," Taeyong points out, voicing his worry for the younger girl.

Ten sighs at you, "I know you're a perfectionist, Y/n, but don't stress too much over my song. Okay?" The Thai member knew how stuck you've been the past week, as he spoke to you almost every day about your progress. "I can't help it, oppa. This is your first release after Paint Me Naked, so it has to be amazing."

Bada rubs your arm in consolidation, "Maybe you need a new change of pace for now? How about the lyrics for the song? Got anything?"

You keep your head down, silence answering Bada's questions, and she sighs. "It's probably an inspiration issue," Jeno says, and your head whips up quickly. "That might actually be the problem."

"You need a change of scenery for sure. Been staring at your computer screen for almost a month straight," Taeyong says with some pats on your back. Your eyes finally had a glimmer of hope after the past weeks, with the long days tiring you out.

A light bulb then flickers in your head, "Unnie, do you have a class coming soon?" You ask the tall woman, who answers perplexed, "Uh, yeah. Tomorrow, I'm at JustJerk. Why?"

"Never mind that. What time?" Your voice evidently becomes eager.

"At 5 p.m.?"

"I'll see you then."

You took an off day, resting your mental for the day, and it was currently 4:30 p.m. as you got ready to head out for the day.

In the JustJerk studio, Bada, Lusher, and Tatter marked their dance as they waited for time. They took a water break as people were making their way into the studio.

"By the way, you have a surprise later," Bada nudges the brunette, who looks at her with a questionable gaze. "What is it?" She simply asks, but Tatter cuts her off, "That defeats the purpose of the surprise dummy."

"Do you know what it is?" Lusher asks, but the blonde shrugs at her. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," she says, teasing the older. "Oh, come on, you two were about to get started." Bada breaks them up as the class begins.

You walked into the building about 20 minutes into the class and asked the receptionist for a visitor's pass that you hung around your neck. Peeking your head in, you see Bada teaching steps already, and the two of you make eye contact. She gives a small wave, and you reciprocate with a smile hiding behind your mask.

You made your way over to the side of the room, sitting on the bench where you put your tote bag beside you. Your eyes scan the room, falling onto your best friend, Lusher. That's what everyone calls her nowadays, but you only called her by her real name.

Then you see the woman next to her, and you pause.

Your eyes widen at the blonde beauty who stood beside your childhood friend, taking in her existence. She wore a simple crop top, black baggy sweets, and a denim jacket. You basically had found an angel whose body flowed fluidly at every step demonstrated to her. Her aura brightened the room's atmosphere whenever she smiled at Bada's antics. She played around with your best friend often, and you saw the two' precious bond.

Well, Jeno was definitely right about finding some inspiration.

Thoughts overflow your brain, and you take the notepad from your bag, writing down everything you can.

Baby, dance, dance, dance Wrap me up with your devotion It's a bad romance Got my body rockin' in slow motion But I can't cope walkin' on a tightrope Hangin' on the tension Let me down, down, down with you Let me give you my attention

After an hour, the class takes a break, and you shy your way behind Lusher. Your hands covered her eyes, and she flinched at the touch, "Who the hell?"

"Did you miss me, Seoyoung-ah?" You ask, and the girl instantly recognizes who it is. You were the only person who called her by her real name and had a husky, rough voice. She almost rips your hands off, wrapping her arms tighter around your neck. "Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I needed to get away from work," You mumble into her shoulder and slip the mask under your chin, revealing your face. Bada smiles at the two while Tatter wonders who you are. She was marveled by your slender eyes and relationship with the brunette. "Is this my surprise, unnie?" Lusher asks the tall dancer. She nods, proud of herself for keeping your arrival secret.

"The girl has been struggling the last few days and figured you could brighten her mood."

"Is that right?" Your best friend questions you, and you only show a bright smile.

Tatter's heart fastens at the sight of your grin. She didn't even know who you were, yet she couldn't help the feeling creeping up on her. "Ah, Y/n, let me introduce you. Tatter, this is my best friend Y/n, and Y/n, this is Tatter." Your eyes meet the blonde dancer, and she gives you a friendly smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Tatter."

"Likewise. Glad to meet one of Lusher unnie's long-time friends." Your face shows a look of shock. "Unnie?"

You thought she was at least the same age as you and Lusher, but you learn she was born in 2001. "I hope I haven't been replaced as your best friend," you joke, and Lusher punches your arm lightly. "Tatter is my dance duo. You and I will always be forever," she tells you as your arm wraps around her shoulder, you leaning your head on hers.

"Let's wrap up this class soon so we can all hang out?" Bada suggests, and Lusher nods excitingly, leaving your side. You and Tatter giggle at the girl as she tries to dance quickly. "You two must be close if she's acting like this," Tatter spoke calmly. "Well, she's always like that with me. This isn't anything out of the ordinary."

"True," she says, and you laugh at her bluntness. You went back to your seat as you appreciated the view of all the dancers and even watched the filming process. When the class finally ended, and all the students were out the door, you were left with the three dancers who sat on the floor, a bit tired from the dancing.

"So how do you know Bada-unnie?" The blonde asks you out of nowhere. "Uh, I'm a producer and composer at SM, so I see her at the building almost daily."

Tatter becomes fascinated at the thought of your profession, not knowing anyone in that field of work. "You make music?"

"Yeah. It's something I always loved doing since I was a kid."

"So that means you play instruments?" She looks at you, super interested, and you can't help but grow flustered with her eyes on you. It felt intense, and you weren't used to feeling this intimidation. "Um, of course. I started playing multiple instruments at the age of 11."

Her face goes into amazement at your words. "11? That's amazing. You must be really good then."

"I'd say I'm decent," you say teasingly. "She's more than decent. She created the melody Better by BoA," Lusher points out, and Bada nods in agreement. "Better? By BoA? That's one of my favorite songs."

You look at the blonde happily, "I also part-took in writing some of the lyrics."

Tatter gets up and begins bowing at you, causing you to frantically wave your arms at her gesture. "Please get up and never do that ever again." You chuckle as she gets up.

"Her unreleased stuff is fire, though," Bada says, exposing you, and your eyes widen. "Unnie~" You whined at the older woman, who chuckled, "What, it's true. The stuff you don't release are some of your best works."

"She's not wrong," your best friend added.

"Would you mind showing me some?" Tatter asks innocently, and you nod, looking away. Every time you made proper eye contact, your hands got clammy, and breathing felt ten times harder. What in the world was happening to you.

You then pull out your work phone, where you keep all your projects and private songs. Your hands lend her the wired headphones you used only specifically for this, and you connect it to the phone.

"What vibe are you looking for right now, Tatter-nim?" You joke with the question, and she responds, "Hmmm, some RnB would be nice right now." You then scroll and click the song called "Clueless Mystery."

As Tatter listened, everyone watched her eyes go soft at the sound of your voice. "Holy shit, you sound beautiful." Your ears go red at the compliment, and give her a slight bow as she keeps listening. Her upper body begins to sway at the beat, and your focus on her becomes sincere. She looked like she genuinely enjoyed the song's melody, almost freestyling as she stayed seated. You smile at her movements, and Lusher can only watch you two curiously.

That look you gave the blonde was something Lusher knew all too well... you were falling for her and falling quick.

When the song ends, Tatter can't help but applaud your work, and you bow jokingly, "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night, folks."

“Would you mind sending me those songs?" She asks you seriously, and you nod, happily switching numbers so you can send her some tracks when you get home. "You sure you gonna listen to them?"

"Of course. That one also seemed nice to dance to, so I might make some choreography."

That was unexpected. You nod slowly, realizing her words, "Sure, I'll pick some of my best work out."

Your visits at the JustJerk Academy became frequent as you got excited to see the blonde. The past few weeks, you had slowly but surely finished Ten's solo song, the NCT member, deciding to call the sensual song "Birthday." A piece usually took less time to make, but if you made it, you made sure to take your time, ensuring you put every single thought, sweat, and tear into it. Now, you were only missing a few lyrics and decided to keep seeing your newfound friend as she secretly became your muse for this piece.

The two agreed to meet at YGX today as Tatter was working on some new choreography for the studio. When you go to the dance studio, you see the blonde dancing through the window. This time, she wore black leggings, plain Converse, and a sheer white long-sleeve. You were fucked. Tatter looked immaculate in her simplistic outfit, the white top emphasizing her heavenly beauty.

Your brain goes crazy at the sight before you, and your breath becomes terribly shaky. Your hands move on their own, opening the door ever so slightly, and you hear one of your slow songs. You bow, coming in, letting her do her own thing until the song ends.

You watch as her body moves elegantly to the song, the jazz training being prominent in her dancing. Moving fluidly, as usual, you were in a trance, not even realizing your track had ended and she was approaching you. "Was it good?" She asks you breathlessly.

"Of course it was. What else could I expect from you?"

She smiles, taking a seat beside you. "So, you have a new song for me?"

"Wanna find out?" She nods, and you give her the phone. This time, she unlocks the phone with ease and connects the phone to the speaker. After hanging around the dancers for a while, you and Tatter became close to the point where her face could unlock the phone, and she knew her way well around the phone. You even called her by her real name.

You trusted her with it as she hasn't given you a reason not to. She clicks the unfamiliar name "Drowned Happiness." A slow-paced pop-synth beat could be heard, and Tatter's body automatically grooves away. She does a rope-pulling movement in your direction, and you roll your eyes. She was well aware you didn't dance, but here she was trying to entice you.

"Taeyoung-ah, you know damn well I have two left feet," She doesn't respond to you, just grabbing your arm and pulling you to the center of the room. She circles your body as she dances, and you can only watch her in astonishment. The distance between you is minuscule, and you stand there, frozen. "Are you scared of me, Kang Y/n?" She asks in a whisper, the smaller girl making sure you kept your eyes on her the entire time. "You know I don't bite."

Your breath hitches at her words.

She takes your arms and wraps them around her own waist, and you try swaying your body to follow her movement. Finding the right pace, you two go in sync, and Tatter smiles at your awkward figure, finding you adorable. Your hands fondle with her hips as she leans your body closer to you.

"You know, no one has ever had this effect on me." You just listened to her, still sticking to the momentum the two of you had. "The first time I saw you in the studio, god. You did something to me. The stupid smile you have, the little head bobs you did while listening to music, your deep voice, everything about you was captivating."

That stupid smile she calls out takes shape on your face. "You're so beautiful, angel," was all you could say, giving her a new nickname. You couldn't even find the right words, making you nervous. It was literally part of your job, but Tatter made it overly difficult for you. The song ends, and you pull away quickly, feeling your face heat up at the exchange.

You cough before trying to redeem yourself, "Wanna head out for lunch?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?" She asked, picking up her bag and phone. "There's a small Italian place near by if you want." She nods, and you drive to the restaurant. While driving, you felt Tatter's eyes on you occasionally, and you tried to shake away the anxiousness you felt bubbling inside you.

You guys make it and open the cae door for the girl. Entering the establishment, you were met with the smell of pasta and baked goods.

The two of you ate pasta as you chatted away, "I'm telling you, Seoyoung would get her hands stuck in her hoodie." You told her stories about you and Lusher's childhood, and Tatter always laughed. "How does that even happen?"

You shrug, "I don't know. All I know is she always cried about it, and I'd have to help her out every single time."

The two of you were about to continue but noticed the heavy rain outside. "Shit," Tatter said softly, looking out the window. "I'll drop you home. It's no big deal."

When finishing up, you two argued over paying the bill. "Let me, I've literally been using your music for my own fun."

"Taeyoung, that has nothing to do with paying the bill, like, at all."

"I wanna pay, please~" She pleaded, but you shook your head, handing your card to the water, "No, and that's final." Tatter quiets down at your stern voice, never hearing it before. You sounded so sexy, making her feel vulnerable in front of you.

When existing, you guys stood under the store's overhead, and you began taking off your letterman jacket. Placing it over the blonde's head, she mopes. "You're gonna get sick, unnie," she tried taking it off, but you stopped her, just pulling her waist close as you run to your car, ensuring she didn't slip. You open the passenger door and let her enter before running to the driver's side.

Safe to say, as soon as you sat in the car, you sighed at yourself. You were literally soaking wet. Tatter looks at you in silence, taking in your appearance. Your usual straight long black hair turned a little wavy, and your plain white shirt was now see-through, enabling her to see the black sports bra you wore underneath. When you look at her in a fit of laughter, she looks away, trying to hide the shades of pink on her face.

You drove her home, and as you sat in the front of her apartment, she sighed, "Can I at least give you some clothes? Before you get sick?" You just nod, saying, "Sure, this shirt isn't feeling too comfortable right now anyways." Not wanting to argue with her. She wasn't wrong, as you felt the heavy weight of your shirt tiring your body.

She lets you in, and your nose is filled with the scent of Vanilla. Of course, her house would smell like this. The girl herself smelled sweet all the time.

"Let me get you a towel with some clothes so you can shower."

She marches off somewhere with a mission in mind, and you wait at the entrance, not wanting to wet her place too much. Tatter comes back, handing you a soft sage green towel. "The bathroom is in the hallway, the door to the left, and I have some clothes in there for you."

You nod and take a quick hot shower, and as Tatter waits for you, she changes into a silk pink pajama set, getting comfortable in her humble abode. She sat in her living room, watching TV, and you came out in grey sweatpants and a baggy light blue shirt. Your hair was now in a ponytail, and Tatter couldn't help but stare at you lovingly. You looked adorable and comfy in her clothes.

Making your way over to her, you sat on her couch, making yourself feel at home as you were tired. "You good?" She asks you softly. "Yeah, just a bit tired from all the food we ate."

"Stay for a while. Let the rain die down, and we can watch a movie."

"Let's do it then," You put one of her throw pillows in your lap, and she smiles fondly at you. The two of you agreed to watch Mamma Mia. As the movie goes on, the two of you move closer to each other as you play around every now and then. Tatter then rests her head in the crook of your neck, and you smile at this. Finding some courage as you two watched the movie, you asked her in a gentle voice, "Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna go on a date tomorrow?"

She peeks at you, leaning her head up, "Is this not a little date right now?" You grin, feeling your heart swell up at the view of her beautiful face. "A proper date, angel."

With her new name rolling off your tongue, she gives you a quick peck on the cheek, "I'd love to go on a proper date with you, unnie."

A/n: This took so long to write, but it was defo worth it!

-sivine

[rq-producerperson]

Hello!

Basic question: any tips for getting into a career involved with creative stuff? (Anything, but specifically audio design and writing.)

Additional information about my specific situation I suppose: I'm heading into my second year of college, and have been working towards getting my degree in anthropology with the hope of going into artifact preservation/restoration. However that's kind of always been a... Second priority, I suppose, as I've always wanted to make a living off of my writing, but assumed that even if that was really possible, I should get a degree in something else.

Last year at school I was working as a stage tech for the college of the arts there (mainly for concerts, not theatre), and I loved it a ton and genuinely wouldn't mind a career in that vein.

The last three months I've been working a shitty assembly line job (9 hour days in a windowless room doing the same thing over and over and over and-). The only plus side to it is I've had plenty of time to listen to stuff, and I've gotten really into Magnus. The Q&A episodes and things like that made me realize that there are other things I could do (and love) in a creative vein than just writing. I'd also never considered that my enjoyment of doing tech for live stuff might translate outside of that, but I really genuinely think it would.

So next year I'm taking a bit of a jump and I'm going to be taking some of the introductory journalism courses at my school. (There's a film and media production emphasis under the major with plenty of room for more fiction-oriented work. And then grad school is something I've been seriously considering since I learned the word anthropology, so that's still very on the table if I choose to pursue this.)

This has been a really big switch for me, and quite frankly I'm terrified of getting stuck at a job like the one I currently have for the rest of my life, with a creative degree just rotting in the corner. (At least with anthropology there would probably be another five+ years of school after undergrad, so that was less of a looming issue.)

Just... Any advice on getting my foot in the door? Especially with hopes of eventually moving out of the states?

Sorry for such a long ask, I'm very bad at being brief. :p

Thank you!

Heya, thanks for the Ask. I’ve had this one sitting for a while thinking of the best way to answer, because the truth is that life is variable so I struggle to give what I feel is meaningful advice when the landscape is always shifting.

However, I’ll do my best with what I know.

The keys that I think are best are Patience, Perseverance, and People.

First, Patience.

I’ve mentioned this a few times but it’s important to remember, life changes quickly and the creative market is constantly shifting. Being able to pursue a job in the creative industry means having the patience to wait for the right wave to paddle to, the right gust to lift you up. But like with nature, there is never a guarantee that the winds or tides of fate will flow your way. There’s an element of chance to it.

You have to be prepared to change and take chances when you feel they are right for you. Shoot out before you’re comfortable and you’ll sink, wait too long and you’ll miss a great wave. I can’t give an answer to when is best to know your ready or what the right chance is to take. I CAN however advise that waiting, watching, and learning is the best chance to take that shot. So, learn as much as you can and stay curious and adaptable.

Second, Perseverance

When you have decided a path to trod, a wave to ride. You commit. Know how to move with the current and keep your focus. It’s easy to keep laying out options, but when you have found that Moment that’s right for you to act on your chosen course, you can go in half way.

Before RQ and during the first half of my employment here I was always working two jobs. I’ve done retail, freelance, post graduate work, office administration, accounting, entertainment hosting, you name it. I was an office assistant when I started at RQ but quickly knew that even though I couldn’t make money with it (it was still just Alex in a Yurt at that time), I wanted to commit to it, to make that job the best thing I could do, and I kept a simple day job to make ends meet. I got lucky, I found a mentor who taught me how to advocate for myself and that I had a creative voice after spending years being beaten down. But I also had the conviction and perseverance to know there was something worth building on.

And we did that together.

Which brings me to my last point, People.

You hear a lot in the creative industry that it’s “about Who you Know” and that’s true, but not entirely in the way you think. Learn about people, what their strengths are, how they compliment each other. Surround yourself with likeminded people that want to attain the same goal, have the same passions. Breaking through the creative industry cannot be done in a vacuum. Always make sure you have a support network of other passionate, skilled, and dedicated humans.

Don’t know how to meet people? I bet you do more than you think. Fandom was my in, not just from shooting my shot, but for teaching me how to work creatively with others. (I still try to do art companion work with fanfic writers when I can)

So yea, maybe it’s a standard answer or underwhelming, but the truth is there is no magic key. There’s Skill, Luck, Determination, and Community that make these kind of jobs possible.

[mr-laveau]

hiya, dog here! this is for lav's listener design lab!!

Crow Folkestone, aka Freelancer/Voyeur/Deviant/Silly!

Crow grew up moving around a lot and with not great parents. When his powers started manifesting, his family treated him even more like the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. After Caelum appeared to him for the first time, he ran away from his family and went no contact with them

He's very much got a grunge/skater kinda vibe to him. A lot of thrifted and oversized stuff. Baggy jeans, big shirts and sweatpants, chunky sneakers, yk the vibes

He's transmasc (he/they/it), he presents pretty masc but he doesn't bind and has a pretty large chest, so he kind of appears androgynous because of it

Crow is white (irish/scottish)

About 25-26 ish?

Crow is chubby, with large thighs, a thick tummy, large chest, and the kind of arms that dads who don't work out but are still very strong have

Gemini

Crow's closest relationships are the D.A.M.N. crew. my version of redacted has them as a polycule! crow and gavin are primary partners though. they love their boys so much. and also caelum, but like. he's their son

Crow has a numerous amount of hobbies, from photography (loves bringing a digicam everywhere he goes, esp with the D.A.M.N. crew, and recording memories), to writing poetry, to singing and playing guitar/bass, and more! They love video games, and reading books, and watching videos, and writing, and hanging out with the crew!

Not technically a deity, but a hero from myth: Crow would be Patroclus. Their dedication to their friends and lovers is so strong they would die for any of them. They don't want to be the hero, and are uncomfortable with the attention it can bring, but they're thrusted into the role anyways and have grown because of it

Redacted Audio's D.A.M.N. Storyline!

Crow is incredibly dedicated and very understanding. Past relationships have made them very much a pleaser and go-with-the-flow about things (/neutral, some partners were good, most were not, but both experiences shaped him). They understand limits and don't expect anything in return, even if they secretly want someone to dote on them. Crow wants to be the muse and not just the artist sometimes. In the past they were more the one doing things for their partner/s, so having Gavin do things for them like they would do still catches them off guard now and then. For their friends, Crow likes to treat them almost like other partners; that same dedication is given to them as well. Crow likes making sure everyone is happy and is heard

Crow values being truthful to oneself greatly, as well as having love for humanity

just existing by daysormay !

Crow is the truest "listenersona" i have, so their design is actually based on what i look like irl! just with a few differences (eye color and some minor body details mainly)

Crow stands at 5'8 1/2, with shaggy/curly dark brown hair in a shag mullet with fluffy bangs. A small braid hangs from behind their ear, given to them by Caelum. They have brown eyes and freckles across their face and body. They have piercings on their face and ears (septum & paired nostrils, center labret, stretched ears [2g], four more piercings in each ear), and tattoos across their body. Recently he got on testosterone. He's pretty hairy. Almost like a cub?

Crow is absolutely a puppyboy. It's also a polyglot! He calls Gavin "playboy", as well as "lover boy". Absolute stoner. It's assigned the D.A.M.N. crew as Muppets. He is just chef's kiss.

This listener lab design is one of the coolest things ever! Is it weird to say thank you? I love when creators give back to their community like this, and this is such a good way of doing that!

ty again!

LaVeau-gue - design #002 - Freelancer - Crow - Redactedgender

Heyo! You're welcome for making your design, I don't think it's weird really, it goes a long way to remind people that artists and creators are in fact human and do not exist for the benefit and entertainment of fandoms or people (you wouldn't believe the sense of entitlement on some folks really) but enough about that, here's the design for crow!

Design Notes!

There's a little something I like to keep in mind sometimes and something that I have to remind myself about from time to time which is:

"Sometimes people don't want your extra touch, they just want you to draw something for them."

That is something I had to keep in mind for this design so instead of going on a tangent in regards to how my own, I'll just let ya know how I interepreted your notes:

In particular, I chose to just take your visual notes literally, making sure to incorporate the different piercings where I could make them visible. Other stuff like its haircut, freckles, eyes and hair type were just thongs I took at face value.

Now when it came to a few other elements, things got tricky:

You specified that Crow had tattoos but never specified what those tattoos were so I decided to improvise by incorporating barbs, the anarchist symbol, a broken heart, a "live" tatoo and a star om their arms since they seemed to make sense for his backstory.

In terms of fashion, I leaned into the skater/grunge aesthetic to create something easy, breezy that could fit the vibe but also felt androgynous whilst leaning into masc territory.

A few special tidbits I incorporated was the braid-by which I mean that I used a pink hair tie on it to colour match with Caelum and gave Crow a hot pink collar that I like to think he got from Gavin.

Crow genuinely feels like a character who doesn't see themself as the main character but perceivs himself as an extra in everybody else's life, its fashion does come from a more bold subculture but they also seem very much to be the type to be the lone skater dude. In conjunction with this, your pick of Patroclus was interesting as it general supports my theory that Crow likely doesn't see themself as their own person but as a part to other people's stories. As such, I felt it best to give crow an appearance that would match that, something that would at least look different to your average Joe but wouldn't seem to out of place in a city like Dahlia I'm California.

And that's your LaVeau-gue design! Hope you enjoy it! (Oh yeah I also changed the name to LaVeau-gue since I liked it more)

Wanna have your listener designed by me? Check out my rules for LaVeau-gue and send an ask my way!

[salubriwrites-blog]

LycaWise Angst story I'll never publish

I'm part of a LycaWise discord where we all circle jerk and share things we cooked.

After reading someone's little angsty one shot they wrote I was inspired. I'll probably never turn this into a full length story especially cause it was piggy backing off someone else, shout out Dartrickx and would only turn this isn't a full scale story with their permission and collaboration.

So I wanted to post what I had cooked in this feral brainstorm frenzy! (I'm literally copy pasting this from Discord, so it'll be disjointed, feral, and I'm NOT sorry). The story kicked off pretty cute - Lycaon and Wise go on a date where Lycoan proposes. Their romantic evening ends with Lycaon fighting off Ethereals, only to realize that he was somehow drugged during his evening with Wise. The Ethereals he fought did not exist, and the large one he fought was actually Wise. Who now lays dead, at the hands of Lycaon. Hugo Vlad - disguised as their waiter for the evening - had managed to drug Lycaon and has effectively framed the thiren for the death of the Proxy.

Here is my addition to what I think would transpire afterward: When PubSec arrives, all they see is a maddened thiren out of control of himself. Lycaon's defense is paper thin, the blood is on his hands, no one believed that he had been drugged and so there's no proof of Hugo's actions. The best thing they can do for him to avoid a more severe sentence is to plead insanity. He is a Hollow Raider after all, all that Ether corruption had to have an impact on him some how... so they plead insanity to save Lycaon.

So Lycaon pleads insanity, gets sent to a psychiatric prison. Hugo infiltrates it and masquerades as doctors, guards, whatever he needs to be around Lycaon. This causes the staff to panic because he's trying to attack the staff, not a good look for him. As a result the prison isolates him further, muzzles him up, puts him in a high risk ward. Basically only has like, two or three people that he sees at any given time of day (a therapist, a guard, a doctor, that kind of thing). Through a series of manipulations (social and medical), Lycaon starts to lose touch with reality. He becomes convinced that he is beyond redemption. Everyone has forgotten about him; Wise is dead, Belle will never forgive him, VHS had to distance themselves to save face. Hugo is all that remains. This does not happen within months either, mind you. We're talking like, years of Hugo doing this. Until everyone that Lycaon knew stops calling him, stops visiting, stops writing letters. He feels completely forgotten about and the only connection he has to his past is Hugo. Let's say about ~5 years go by. VHS has moved on, Ellen is maybe looking at a change in lifestyle. She works at a catgirl/maid cafe full time now, and gets a visit from a PubSec officer. One of them introduces herself as Zhu Yuan, investigator for NEPS. "Are you Ellen Joe?" They ask. She's suspicious, but confirms her identity. "When was the last time you were in touch with Von Lycaon?" They ask. Panic "Maybe three years ago. Why?" "He's part of an ongoing investigation." "I just said I haven't seen him in years, last I saw him he was in prison for murder. You should know where he is." silence "You… do know where he is, right?"

Ellen finds out that Lycaon escaped his isolation cell and they think he took one of the prison's staff hostage. Now Ellen may not think that he's totally mentally stable, but this is still Von Lycoan, Head Butler of Victoria Housekeeping Services and Hollow Raider we're talking about. He knows how to evade detection, hack any level of security clearance, and skilled in different forms of combat. If Lycaon doesn't want to be found, he absolutely can disappear. So she teams up with PubSec to find Lycaon, putting all of the training he inparted onto her to track him down. Doing her own freelance investigation, Ellen learns the truth about what happened. How Hugo had been there, following Lycaon and Wise, orchestrating the perfect crime with Lycoan at the center of it. She figures out that Hugo has been in that prison the whole time, and that this psycho has been torturing Lycaon all this time. Basically uncovers a whole gross discrepancy in the prison's system. "We'll make this right, but we have to find him before Hugo influences him to do something else" Zhu Yuan promises Ellen as they are closing in on Lycaon's location. Eventually, they find Lycoan and Hugo. They're back in the attic playing house or some weird shit like that. Ellen insists that she be the one to go up first and will call if things go side ways, because the presence of cops might agitate Lycaon. "Remember," Zhu Yuan says to Ellen before she disappears inside. "So long as he doesn't hurt anyone else, we can get his sentence commuted or even cleared. That includes you." "I'll talk some sense into him," Ellen promises. Except- "Boss?" She calls, relying on her senses to penetrate the dark room. Though it was day time, the sun hanging directly over head cast the room in unmoving shadows. Lycaon attacks Ellen, she jams the handle of her pole arm between his teeth to stop him from biting her. He doesn't recognize her anymore, she barely recognizes him. He's gray, gaunt, and wild now. A trace of the regal thiren she knew, he's become something of Hugo's creation. As Hugo is standing over Ellen, giving a monologue about how he's won (because he has to) while Lycaon slobbers and snaps at her face as she holds him off with her pole arm, she manages to reach into her shirt and pull out a necklace, and hanging from the chain is the wedding band. Wise's wedding band.

Lycaon sees it and he freezes up as she says something not very dramatic but to the extent of "You forgot about me, that's fine. I deserve that because I forgot about you first. But you would never forget him." Because it's true, Lycaon could never forget Wise. Even when everyone else forgot about Lycaon, and his love for them turned to bitter resentment turned to nothingness. As Lycaon is having this mental collapse, she beats Lycaon over the head and he blacks out. Now that his weapon is out of commission and no longer a danger, Hugo starts to beg for clemency. Then threatening her. But Ellen Joe is a badass, and she calls in PubSec to take care of him and get Lycaon the help she needs. After that day she promises to never leave his side again. She failed him once already.

Hugo goes away for a long time for the grocery list of crimes hes committed. (Tampering with a crime, 1st degree murder, impersonating law enforcement, aiding and abetting a prisoner's escape, unlawful imprisonment). It takes Lycaon a long time to come back from all of that. Ellen and Corin stick around to help him, Lycoan may never get his job back as an attendant for VHS, but maybe Lily's family rehire him full time. It all comes to a head when Belle forgives Lycaon. So they start penpalling, then phone calling, and finally one day they decide to meet somewhere in person - we're talking years later. When Belle arrives she's older now, and she's not alone. There's a young boy with her that looks sort of like her, and at the sight of Lycoan gets really shy, but she insists that Lycaon is a friend of the family. He knows that this is her son, and recognizes how important it is to her that she introduce an important man in her life back to Lycaon. The trust that they've rebuilt is fragile and all hinges on if this child approves of him or not. "This is my son, baby do you wanna tell him your name?" She asks. "My name is Wise..." He is hesitant to say it, maybe he thinks its stupid, or other kids bully him for it. He doesn't know its significance. Choking back tears, Belle watches as Lycaon gets down on a knee and takes kid Wise's hand and gives him a formal little handshake. He can tell that he's immediately imprinted onto her son, who will now have a bodyguard and best friend for life. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, young master. Your mother and uncle are very dear to me, should you ever need my assistance, I will be at your side at a moment's notice." Kid Wise stares up at him with these big eyes and goes, "Cool… can I touch your tail?"

[lorelite333]

thank you to @sclairereject for the inspiration for the post, because i never have anything to post about half the time. however as someone who does do tarot (i'm spiritual), i wanna put my own twist to this. (ppl have their own interpretations, but the cards still have definitions)

Redacted Boys (includes Alexis) Major Arcana Tarot Cards:

I'd also like to say that these are just my takes, and things that I've noticed and felt. I don't have everyone on here, as I got tired writing this halfway through, so I don't have everyone on here.

SHAW PACK:

David Shaw is the Magician, specifically because he was trying to find his power and voice as leader, in which he did.

Milo Greer is the Chariot, because of sense of direction and will power. He tries his best to do what's right, even if it hurts him in the process.

Asher Talbot is the Strength card, due to his overcoming self-doubt, his compassion, and his bravery in situations. In reverse, this card represents self-doubt, lack of confidence, and vulnerability.

SOLAIRE CLAN

Vincent is the Lovers card, standing by his personality alone, resembling unity, balance, partnerships, and choices.

Sam is the Justice card, associated with fairness, truth, balance, and legal matters. I feel like Sam genuinely cares about what's right, and wants to help no matter what, even if he says he wants to stay out of things. He has this sense to try to make things right, even if things may get rocky. He's a healer by heart, and tries his best to do what's best for everyone in a situation.

William is the Hierophant, it is associated with education, knowledge, traditions, and institutions. I dont really have a reason for this one other than vibes.

Alexis the Judgement card, due to her past actions as well as her personality. This card represents reflection, rebirth, transition, and decision-making. In reverse, this card represents self-doubt, poor choices, stubbornness, blame, and confusion.

Porter is the Tower card. It represents trauma, destruction, unexpected change, revelation, chaos, awakening, and warning. We know that Porter is in fact "The Blade" of the Solaire Clan, and we know that he somewhat regrets it in some way, as well as him having trauma from this and his maker.

DAMN SQUAD

Gavin is The World, as it symbolizes success, fulfilment, and an end of a cycle. I feel like this represents him due to his change with the Freelancer, him being able to open up and enjoy his life with them and his friends. Gavin never really considered Aria his home, but more so just a place he lived at. In his SBW, he talks about how Dhalia has become his home, as Freelancer and the DAMN squad had helped him change his view on it (as well as change him).

Damien is the Sun, mostly in reverse, this academic over-achiever has a little bit of an ego. He's also quite pessimistic and has unrealistic expectations that were set on him by other people. However, the Sun is also associated with positivity, happiness, freedom and vitality. Which I think Damien has learned throughout his years of being friends with the Freelancer, that it's okay to take a break sometimes and just have fun.

Huxley is the Star, as he tries to maintain his happy and positive self for everyone else, turning to inspire others and give them hope with their problems. However Huxley also experiences negativity, hopelessness, failure. I think Huxley somewhat feels like the things in life get too repetitive, and he sometimes loses interest in certain things or just becomes bored with them from a tedious routine.

And finally Lasko, is the Fool, mostly from vibes, however The Fool is an air element card, which represents new beginnings, a leap of faith, and loyalty. Lasko sees the DAMN squad as family, in which he's very loyal to. I feel like during his time at DAMN, he's experienced time after time a new beginning, from Damien and him becoming friends to him and Coworker having a relationship.

[jmhwritesstuff]

About Me:

Jemma, she/her, infp, freelance editor

I mostly write fantasy but have a contemporary project

my work tends to be heavily character-focused

expect to find: snippets of my writing, aesthetic/mood boards, art, photography, fashion, quotes, writing tips/advice, and memes

Main WIP 

The Lightsworn Saga

Daughter of Shadow and Sun

Centuries after the war between the Lightsworn and the Fallen, the Saviour who gave her life to end it is reawakened with no memory of who she is or where she came from. Now she must fight to find the truth behind the Fallen King’s obsession with her, while balancing on the thin line between Light and Dark.

The Lightless Path (Lightsworn #1)

Set after the events of Daughter of Shadow and Sun, magic has long since disappeared, and the home of the Lightsworn has been left an abandoned and sacred graveyard. But Aira, a homeless thief from the streets, has been plummeted into a life she never dreamed of. As the next Lightsworn, she could be the city’s only hope of stopping the Darkness’ return. 

Other WIPs (x)

Freefall

Lexi returns home after three years at university to a house and town that has haunted her since she was sixteen. Alongside some familiar faces from her past, she begins to unpack the memories of all that happened during the Summer of ‘09 in the hopes of finally getting the closure she needs.

Information here will change as and when necessary, but don't be afraid to interact - I love making new friends and talking about writing!

[harlequin-hangout]

For a Mortal Chapter 1

Series Master List | Loki Master List

Part 2 >

Pairing: Dom!Loki x f!Reader

Warnings: Self esteem problems, self deprecation, ⚠️abuse (past, not from Loki)⚠️, minor breaking and entering

Contains: Maybe angst, definitely a little fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!

I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.

A/N: This was inspired by this ask by @michelleleewise​. This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fan fiction, so please be kind. I’m hoping to get better, though inspiration doesn’t strike as often as I’d like. I may turn this into an ongoing series, I haven’t completely decided yet. I hope you all like it!!

“FUCK!!”

Your phone hits the bed and bounces to the floor. You threw it harder than you meant to. Sighing through your gritted teeth, you pick up the device. At least the screen wasn’t cracked, but your case had definitely busted when it hit the ground. You had just hung up a call with your boss. The company wasn’t bringing in cash flow, which meant for the second month in a row, you weren’t going to get paid. At least he had told you that you didn’t need to come into the office until there was money again. You take a deep breath and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as if the pressure could stop the stress and the headache it was about to bring on. 

“God, I don’t want to know how much I’m short,” you think to yourself as you pull the busted case off of your phone and open your banking app. A pit forms in your stomach as you realize your account is overdrawn by $56.41. Well . . . Ramen again tonight. It isn’t the healthiest, but anything is better than being hungry.

It’s been two weeks since your last conversation with anyone in the small startup company you work for. You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, trying to find freelance work while donating plasma just to make sure you can eat has taken its toll on you. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. The caller ID reads “Darren Albright”. Dammit. It’s your boss.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you answer, trying to not let your exhaustion show through in your voice.

“Hey, Y/N, we need to talk. You’ve barely done any work since the last time you were in the office. I feel like I’m just a paycheck to you, and I’m not okay with that. We talked when you came on board, I have decades of experience in production, but this company is still essentially a start-up and Rob and I both work for free, and it’s insulting that you don’t even try to come in to help out. I always go out of my way to help out friends, and I just thought you’d do the same. I’ve offered you gas money to come out here if you need it, we’re all in the same boat here. I’m broke too. I haven’t paid my mortgage for this month, so don’t tell me it isn’t possible.”

You don’t really process the rest of what Darren says as you stare at the wall in disbelief. 

Not working . . . ? You’ve been working for free for over two months. The only difference is you’ve been working from home instead of from the office. You can’t help it if you live an hour away. Hell, it isn’t the same boat. Darren lives in the office, owns the company, and when you were in the office, you mostly saw him playing around on an art app while you worked. You knew you were signing on to a startup, but you’d been reassured that you’d be paid at least something. You mumbled apologies that you don’t really mean as you hang up the phone. First it was his now ex-girlfriend, Crystal, doxxing you online after harassing you for days on end because she somehow got it in her head that you and Darren were sleeping together. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sure, Darren was tall, but he wasn’t your type at all. The bushy beard just didn’t do it for you. Your type was a bit more . . . sleek. Sleek, dark, put together . . . You sigh as you try to fight back your tears. 

What the hell were you doing? Was this even worth it? You’d worked so hard to break into the world of production. You worked with all three of Darren’s companies, and had built the backend for two of them. You spent every day maintaining those backends, running admin, and doing literally anything he called and asked you for, including finding and making proposals for marketing clients, something you’d had to teach yourself just to be able to do the job. You lost your fight as tears start to run down your face. How could he say those things? You’d worked yourself mostly to death trying to make the situation work, and he thinks you’ve done nothing because you aren’t being paid? You choke back a sob, leave your apartment unlocked,  and just run. You run towards the woods and don’t look back. Branches whip at your skin as you break off the narrow walking path, just wanting to be as far away from everything that’s been causing you to nearly break. Finally, coming to a clearing, you drop to your knees and wail at the top of your lungs. Sobs wrack your form as you let out all the emotion that’s been building over the last months. You don’t like being vulnerable around others, so this is the only safe place you know where you can let everything out.

“Why?? Why am I fucking killing myself for someone who obviously doesn’t give a fuck about me?? Why . . . why am I here? Why am I trying so hard? . . . Why did I think I could do this?” You choke, your self doubt taking control. In all honesty, you couldn’t answer those questions. You’d long since seen a point in continuing to follow your dream career, maybe it was just better to get a regular job. You knew you’d hate it, but at least you knew your bills would be paid.

As your sobs quieted, you wiped your tears on your sleeves and slowly made your way back to your apartment. Nightfall had long since passed. When did it get dark? It didn’t really matter, as the numb feeling across your whole body makes it hard to care about much of anything. Locking your front door, you pull off your now dirt-stained clothes and take a deep breath. You didn’t really remember getting back to the apartment, or much since you left. You just wanted this to be over. For the stress to be gone. And more than anything, for support. You look upwards, and for the first time in years, you pray.

“Please, whoever’s listening, I don’t care. Please. PLEASE give me some encouragement. I can’t keep doing this, and I don’t even know if my dreams are worth it anymore. Please . . . Just send me a sign that I shouldn’t give up . . .” You fall ungracefully onto the bed, not bothering to put on the pajamas that lay on your floor. As you fall into a deep sleep, you fail to hear the soft, almost magical hum that floats through the air and miss the soft touch that brushes your temples. A tall figure kneels next to your bed as you start to toss and turn as your mind turns to nightmares.”

You bold upwards in bed, cold sweat drenching your body. You could have sworn that you felt someone’s presence. . . You rub your bleary, sleep-filled eyes as you look at your phone. 3:47am . . . what the hell were you doing awake? You know one thing, though, once you’re up, you need to get something to drink before you can sleep again. You padded towards your kitchen, but an unfamiliar scent stops you dead in your tracks. What was that . . . Fir trees, sandalwood and . . . leather? You cautiously take the last couple steps and peek around the corner. An unlit candle that had definitely NOT been bought by you sat on your counter on top of an emerald green envelope with “Dear Y/N” scrawled on it in an elegant cursive hand. Turning it over in your hand, you break the gold colored wax seal that depicts two snakes intertwined. Where have you seen that before?

Dear Y/N,

I am sorry to hear that you are not receiving the support or recognition that you deserve. I have learned in my long life that sometimes the only ones we can rely on is ourselves, and if these people do not support you, they are not worthy of your greatness. My Dear, your dream, your passion is always worth your efforts. Do it for you, because it is what you desire and you will succeed, I have no doubt. You are a strong, independent, intelligent person . . . for a mortal. Never doubt yourself, My Dear. Should you ever find yourself in need of one who can see your worth, then just light this candle. I wish you all the best in your pursuits and remember . . . You can do whatever you set your mind to. Until we meet . . .

Loki

The name was elegantly scrolled, even if the word choice was a bit odd. The entire letter . . . Loki. Who was he? How did this get in your kitchen? Your windows had been painted shut by the complex, and you were relatively sure you had locked the door behind you when you came back inside . . . Not that it mattered. The numb feeling didn’t seem to want to leave. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about your own personal safety. Maybe a shower would help you relax enough to sleep. After the letter, you couldn’t bring yourself to crawl back into bed. Still . . . You eye the candle, your hands mindlessly tracing the paper in your hands. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have someone . . . I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? My bathroom doesn’t have any windows. There’s no way anyone could see it,”  you think to yourself as you grab the candle and head towards the bathroom.

The steam feels amazing on your skin already as you get the water near scalding in preparation for your shower. If you’re going to do this at 4am, you might as well do it right. You place your towels and bathrobe on the hook on the back of the bathroom door and glance at the candle. You still hadn’t really decided whether or not to light it. It was a deep green and scented like the forest that you ran into to escape the reality of life. That still didn’t account for the leather and sandalwood you’d smelled, though. Fuck it, at least if some random snuck into your bathroom, there was about a 50/50 chance that he’d just put you out of your misery. You flick your lighter and the familiar scent of pine fills the room. You sigh and step into the steam-filled stall, running your fingers through your hair.

“I really wish you wouldn’t think such things about yourself, Darling.”

You freeze as the deep voice fills the room. He spoke softly, almost as if he were your friend. You whip your head around to see a man in a black suit sitting on your toilet, directly across from the entrance to the shower. You almost want to scream but . . . 

“I . . . Do I know you? I mean I know I’ve never met you, but I feel like . . . I mean . . .” You fumble your words. The man’s sudden appearance should have been the thing to catch you off guard, but it was . . . Him. His features were somehow soft, yet stern at the same time. The green of his eyes almost perfectly matched the candle and stationary. His jawline was regal, just like his posture. The suit was well fitted, and you could vaguely make out the tone of his arms. Not to mention, those LEGS. The look of gentle worry that graced his features . . . for some reason, it put you at ease. 

Wait. The eyes. Could this be . . . “Loki?” Your voice is almost a whisper as you stand in the water’s heat, hands tucked gently against your chest. The man gave a soft smile, and what seemed like . . . Relief?

“Yes, My Dear. It’s me. I was worried you wouldn’t recognize me. I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised.” His voice was comforting, yet his tone was that of someone who was undoubtedly in charge. “I must apologize for the sudden entrance, I didn’t expect you to light that thing so soon.” You eyed the man, with both curiosity and apprehension. When you did not speak, he continued. “You are such a clever mortal, though I would guess that your waking memory doesn’t know much of your dreams.”

“N-no, I really don’t remember when I dream, but what does that have to do with anything? Why do you keep calling me ‘Mortal’? It’s almost as if you’re implying that you aren’t.” Loki smirks, one eyebrow raised.

“Little mortal, I am a God. You prayed, and I answered. Isn’t that what you wanted? ‘Whoever’s listening’, I believe, were your exact words?” You stand there, dumbfounded. “I have seen your nightmares and I must say, you are definitely a capable mortal. So determined. You have so much life in you, why would you give it up now?”

“I . . . I mean, if Darren doesn't see all the work I do, if he doesn’t think I’m valuable, then why should I try?”

“Then tell me, why does Mr. Albright deserve your efforts and your loyalty? What has he done? I see a large potential in you, My Dear, and I would like to offer you something. However, first I must confirm my suspicions. If I may?” Loki motions at your temples. After only a couple seconds of hesitation, you kneel in front of the God sitting in your bathroom. The pleased hum doesn’t escape your notice and you smile just faintly enough that you hope he didn’t see. 

Your eyes flash the moment Loki’s cold fingers touch your temple, and suddenly you’re back in your abuser’s house. 

It was winter, and he was drunk. He had lost his phone cord and blamed you he’s screaming, the bourbon on his breath obvious. 

“You’re a shit girlfriend! You’re a shit girlfriend now, and you were a shit girlfriend when I met you, that’s why you were single. Go die!!” As he pushes past you, he punches a hole in the wall, mere inches from your head. You fight to keep your face still and unfeeling, hoping that he’ll go back to his office and leave you to lock yourself in the guest room. 

The scene shifts, and you find yourself in that same guest room. 

You’re bracing against the locked door with all your body weight. No matter how heavy you try to make yourself, you can feel the door start to budge. You make the split second decision to unlock it and let him in, as it will be much worse on you if he has to break in. You retreat into your mind and try to tune him out as he rants and screams about his right to grab your throat. You had fought him in his office when he had grabbed you and tried to sexually assault you. You got away, but at what cost?

Scene after scene flashes before your eyes, each more traumatizing than the last. Finally, Loki comes back into focus in front of you. You hastily grab the trash can beside the toilet and heave into it, bile being the only thing in your system to come up. You cough, and you feel a gentle hand rub your back as you fight to regain your composure.

“Little mortal . . . You’ve been through so much. You are so strong, and are worthy of someone who can see your value. Stand.” You push yourself up, leaning on Loki for support as you steady your face, willing it to neutrality. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Now darling, we’ve moved quite a ways past that. Shower.” You step into the stall, feeling the warmth wash over you. “May I?” The God reaches for the shampoo bottle on the floor of the shower, seemingly unbothered by his suit getting wet. You sit obediently near the shower’s door, and he sits behind you, gently massaging the product into your hair. He takes gentle care to not pull or scrub too hard. You rinse when he tells you to, and hand him the conditioner. As he works the second product into your hair, he sighs. “I did not realize the extent of your abuse. You did not deserve what that ant of a man did to you. Please, take your own wants and needs into consideration when you hear my offer.” 

You chew your lip, unsure of how to respond. Do you even remember how to do things for yourself? You could take care of your own necessities, but this is different. When was the last time you’d done something just because you’d wanted to?

“I . . . I don’t even know what I need, much less want. Not anymore.” Your eyes never leave the floor of the shower. Loki’s movements don’t falter as he carefully chooses his words.

“Darling, I have been inside your mind. I know your wants, your needs, your fears and desires, your passions and your sorrows. You want someone to dominate you, but not for the thrill or gratification. No, your desire is much less selfish than that. You desire trust. You want to trust someone enough that you feel confident handing over control. To trust that they have your best interests at heart, and will always act with your needs taken into account. Rinse.” You stand, silently mulling what he says over in your mind.

“And what if you’re wrong? What if I want to be the one with the reins?” He chuckles, a small smile playing his lips. 

“Then, Y/N, take those wants into account when you make your decision. However, I can guarantee I am not wrong. You would give up control so willingly if someone had your wellbeing in mind. Just like you did for me. With the shower.”

Goddammit. He was right. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing. Was he telling the truth? Could your outlook be so skewed that basic care and consideration is all you really want? 

“Well then, Darling, now it is time for your choice. Come with me. I’ve been watching your drive and your passion for some time, and you are worthy of my attention. Of my care. Come with me, and let me earn the trust that you so crave to share with another being. I promise, you’ll be safe with a God.” You blink in disbelief. Is he offering you a way out? A way to get away from Darren, from the bills, from not always knowing where your next meal was coming from? Was this truely a fresh start?

“And what if I’m not strong enough to build that trust? What if I’m too far gone?” Your voice is soft, uncertain. Loki gently cups your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him.

“Darling, I know you can do it. You can come back from whatever dark place those undeserving insects have left you. You are so, very strong . . . For a Mortal.” You beam and take Loki’s hand. As his Seidr envelops you in a green glow, you think for the first time in forever that maybe, just possibly, everything might be alright.

[bloodiedbeloveds]

Rotating BDTA-John in my head, and it's leading me to ask... why does he paint? And why paint, rather than write or sing or something else?

this is a really good question! it prompted a long conversation, but we didn't come to an agreement, so here are various perspectives.

"Having left the education system as a form of rebellion, it seemed obvious to him that he must pursue an artistic career of some nature. I think he is a painter because he has isolated himself from the world in trying to hide his inhuman nature, and it is easiest for him to pursue a career path where he is not required to make many public appearances and where he is expected to be somewhat skittish and eccentric. As a musical performer, he would have much more difficulty hiding his wings."

“honestly he probably could have been a writer and it wouldn’t have changed much, to tell you the truth the others are giving all these sensible watsonian explanations but i’m 95% sure it’s because we like describing fictional works of visual art”

“shut up it absolutely would have changed things, him being an artist adds to the epistolary form by contributing even more implied content— in the same way that there’s all these interpersonal interactions which must take place but aren’t written down, the descriptions without the presence of the actual images add to the sense that we as readers are not getting the full story. this is especially blatant in we never really learn, with that image description”

“my take is that he has to be some sort of creative for this story to work, because so much of it is about perception & a lot of his Issues are about how he makes so much goddamn money by drawing his deepest traumas and people eat it up. but actually we started thinking about this because of the trends in modern poetry publishing. so that could’ve worked. so i think it’s mostly for the epistolary stuff”

“he could not be a singer because part of his tragic backstory is having loved to sing as a child but having that joy taken from him because he didn’t sound human enough. the simple childhood pleasure of singing a duet with yourself strangled by shame and self-hatred and despair”

“there's also a historical explanation for this— BDTA (the first fic, not the series as a whole) was written as a reaction to some AUs we had with a friend & to the subsequent acrimonious parting we had with them. it's actually kind of spiteful; we wanted to write something better and more interesting than they ever could have come up with. we've moved beyond that in writing the rest of the series, but john was a painter in the AUs with which BDTA is in conversation, so he's a painter now."

"okay this has no precedent, i'm just making this up, but it's super convincing + sad + creation is about constant reinterpretation, so bear with me. john, as a child, was very sad and fucked up and coped with his alienation from his peers + from childhood as a whole via a) reading too much and b) drawing too much. so by the time he's a teenager he's already fallen into the pattern he exhibits as an adult of drawing tortured eldritch characters as a form of emotional self-harm, and when he drops out of college + loses access to his previous viable career path art is both his only other major skill + something he can't stop doing even if he tries."

"honestly, this is making me interested in a take on BDTAverse where john is a fiction writer and alex is a freelance artist. (hey, you know what would be super fucked up? if The Photo hadn't been released, and alex drew for magazines and people kept asking him to draw john's suicide attempt)"

"anyway! i think he paints as a compulsive thing, because he has so few emotional outlets, and doing art about it has been pretty much the only way for him to manage his feelings for a lot of his life. (he learned, as a child, that there are correct emotions to have and if you don't have the right ones people will be mad at you, so talking about it has been out of the picture for a long time.) and once he doesn't have other career plans, well, he's going to be painting fucked up stuff anyway, might as well sell it"

[zannolin]

writing patterns game!

tagged by @lordgrimwing to post the first sentence of the last ten fics i posted and see what it says about how i start stories! oh i can already see where this is going.... (to clarify i'm going off fics by order of first chapter posted instead of last updated, since i have some from Quite a while ago that i finished recently)

Here are the things Amanda LaRusso knows about one Johnny Lawrence: he talks like a walking caricature of the eighties, he likes his scrambled eggs with enough ketchup to fake a murder, and he has the ability to push her husband’s buttons in ways she didn’t know was possible. (puzzle pieces)

The ear is in Jason’s pocket, and that’s how he finds out—how he knows the truth before anyone else in Lyrian. (love is too long)

Two days after Lucy Carlyle leaves his company but not his every waking thought—and probably some of the dreaming ones besides—the ad for her freelance services appears in the papers. (losing face)

When Ferrin pushes him into the well, Jason makes a grab for him on instinct more than anything else. (mutual distrust)

All things considered, Lucy doesn’t immediately connect her exhaustion post-Aldbury Castle and Rotwell showdown with her visit to the Other Side. (motion fatigue)

Patrick Gates has a nice house. (when life gives you lemons)

The first stumble comes when woman from the farmhouse—Naomi is her name—asks Rachel her age. (the swing of things)

Cassie’s never been the best at making friends if she’s honest. (paper faces)

After they slog their damp and shivering way out of Cíbola—or rather, Cíbola’s slightly less dramatic drainage tunnel—Riley shucks off his parka and sits down on a sun-warmed rock to wring out his shirt. (three's a crowd)

Jordan corners him in the bathroom, just as Jon is rinsing toothpaste out of the sink, and he knows there’ll be no escaping his brother this time. (collateral damage)

what's so funny to me is none of these ended up being my favorite story starting device aka what i'm starting my current wip with ("It starts, like everything in Daniel’s life seems to since he was seventeen years old and facing down some asshole on the beach his first night in California, with an argument instigated by one Johnny Lawrence.")—i love a good "it starts like this". it's the narrator in me. anyway i definitely tend to start in media res, though in more mundane moments or observations in the first sentence, followed up by more in-depth narration or spinning the initial thought in a different direction. Like declarative statement -> absolutely bonkers follow-up, if I can help it. it's very fun. idk what do you guys think, psychoanalyze my writing in the notes (jk) (mostly).

tagging: @beautyofsorrow @blusandbirds @adverbialstarlight if u wanna

[slayingfiction]

Beta Readers

What is a beta reader and beta reading?

Beta readers are a test audience for authors’ new books. This could include friends, family, or someone in the book community. It does not require any type of training or professional education. Beta readers receive book copies before they get released in order to give feedback to the author about their novel. Beta reading is typically the stage after proofreading and right before publishing. 

How do authors benefit from beta readers

Beta reading helps an author by getting feedback from their future audience before publishing so they can make desired changes to improve the reception of their novel. This can save them time and money by fixing problems prior to publishing that have been missed. It also helps build readership for when the book releases, because beta reader will be able to post reviews, enticing others to read the novel. 

How can you benefit from beta reading?

There are many ways to benefit from being a beta reader. Let’s take a look at some of the biggest reasons:

Free books: First and foremost, you get free books! To be a beta reader, you must love reading, so this is typically the biggest reason people want to become beta readers. You can get a small reprieve from buying books and just get them for free! All you need to give in return is your opinion.

Sense of accomplishment: Beta reading is a very important job and can determine the failure or success of a novel. You get to be a part of the team that can make a difference in peoples’ lives. One book can make all the difference to both authors and readers alike. You get a sense of joy, pride and accomplishment by helping. 

Compensation: Most beta readers will never make money from this, most taking on this responsibility for the two aforementioned reasons. However, that doesn’t mean sometimes you can’t receive financial compensation for your feedback. Those with a reputation for strong book reviews or have lots of experience in reading and giving feedback can certainly make a profit for this service. Making money from beta reading could be done with some of the following options:

Freelancing: Using freelance websites such as Upwork or Fiverr, you can market yourself as a beta reader and get jobs from people and companies offering compensation to beta readers. 

Websites: Work with companies such as OnlineBookClub to get paid for your reviews of new upcoming books. 

Market yourself in communities: You can market yourself as a beta reader for compensation when joining writing communities and establishing yourself as a prominent and professional beta reader within communities such as BookTok, Bookstagram, Goodreads, LinkedIn, and more. If you’re willing to put the effort in, this can come with some great rewards.

Your Brand: Being a beta reader for authors and companies can greatly enhance your brand or recognition in the book and writing communities if you decide you want to do this for a long time, want to add it to other services you offer, or become a novelist yourself in the future. Working in the community can do great things if you want to become established in the future. 

How do I become an amazing beta reader?

Beta reading isn’t the most complicated of jobs, but it does take talent, skills, and knowledge to be a superstar beta reader. Here’s some ways to stand out against the crowd. 

Read. Simple enough, right? It almost seems like common sense, but the truth is, the more you read, the better you get at understanding novel structures and elements. It also gives you great practice to work on your critical thinking and analyzing skills. 

Choose books only from your favourite genres. Authors are looking for people who are in their targeted audience, because they are the ones who will have the best knowledge of that genre and relate it to other readings they have done. So don’t beta read a mystery novel if you mostly read romance novels. 

Be knowledgeable of how books work. Plots, characters, world building, and more can all differ based on genre, so you want to know how these elements may be missing or lacking for this specific novel in order to give your best feedback. 

Understand the author’s desired target audience so you can tailor your feedback to help them write for their readers. You will then be capable of analyzing the reading level and explicit scenes to determine if they should be fixed or left as-is. 

Understand what kind of answers will best help the author perfect their novel. Try reviewing questions such as this: Questions to ask your alpha/beta readers. Understanding what authors are looking for will give you a better idea of how to be most useful and become critical to your community. 

Don’t give your personal opinions. What you may like, or prefer, can greatly differ from what is useful to the author. Instead of saying you don’t like it, or how you would like to see it written or played out, tell them what elements are causing you to not enjoy the novel. Learn to understand your dislike of something due to problems in the work versus personal preference. 

Be completely honest, but honesty never needs to be brutal. The novel you read in a day could have taken that author months or years to write, and it would be their whole life. Be gentle in your feedback, and always assure you tell them what they are doing well, not only the mistakes.

I am sorry for not posting anything lately. Recently I have been been working very hard at creating my own blog website that will include blog posts, mini writing courses, manuscript services, author of the month, and current read with a book review. I’m so excited for you all to see it when it gets up and running!

I hope everyone has a great week,

Happy Writing!

@cheerfulmelancholies Sorry it took so long to answer your question, I hope this helps at least a little! :)

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

i have been Swamped with full-time freelance writing and a full-time job on top of it, and you guys have been so so so patient with me going months and months and months without updating anything, so i decided to give you little sneak-peeks at the next “diy steps to serenity” and “an unfinished memory” chapters to prove to you that i do actually have content, it’s just been sitting idle as i’ve been forced to write less-fun things for money :( 

i’m going to have a break in my work writing obligations here v v v soon, and updating these fics will be my vacation before the next obligations begin, and i am extremely hype 

snippets under the cut:

DIY Steps to Serenity Excerpt:

The next thing she registered were forms being thrust at her, demanding her signature, as if she had any capacity to read. She mumbled the answers to questions about her birthdate and address, and scribbled her name poorly where they told her to on a tablet. Then, all of a sudden, a nurse was wiping the crook of her elbow down with an alcohol swab, and she forced herself out of her fog of suffering.

"No no no, wait," she said, trying to angle away. 

"They gotta give you an IV to put you under for surgery, baby," Daryl said, his fingers brushing her hair back off her forehead. Carol shook her head vehemently.

"I can't," she insisted, eyes wide with fear. 

"I know but you don't got a choice, honey, it'll be okay. Everythin's okay." Evidently, he'd regained his mantra from somewhere, but Carol still wasn't convinced.

"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. We're going to push some Dilaudid through to help control the pain while we wait to take you back for anesthesia," Leopard Print Scrubs said, thinking that Carol's fear was with the surgery, and not with the small syringe of clear liquid that she was preparing to push directly into her veins. She looked to Daryl helplessly, who simply shook his head.

"You got no choice," he repeated. Through the pain and fright and flood of confusion, Carol tried to think of an alternative. What did they used to do before pain medication? Maybe they could get her some whiskey and a big rock to bite down on. Not ideal, but she was so close to her twelve-month chip, which she didn't realize until that moment was something she actually gave a shit about.

"I'm just gonna flush your IV with some saline, and then we'll get that medicine in you and get you feeling better, you poor thing," Leopard Print Scrubs said. With her free hand, Carol reached for Daryl. He took it without hesitation.

"I won't be sober," she whispered to him through tears that she wasn't sure were new or had been falling since she'd arrived.

"But you'll be alive."

//

An Unfinished Memory Excerpt:

“Come now, don’t be like that,” Merle said. He came around and sat next to Daryl on the couch. He smelled like cigarettes and the cheap perfume of whichever girl he’d been cozying up with at the bar the night before. “If you need help lookin’ like a fine, upstandin’ citizen then I’ll do my damndest, but first you gotta be straight with me.”

“Straight with you about what?” Daryl didn’t look at his brother, opting instead to fiddle with his drawing, which was now just a crinkly ball in his hands. Pity, he thought, he’d liked that one well enough to have kept it, if Merle hadn’t ruined it. Whatever, he could always just draw it again.

“Carol. What’s goin’ on between the two of you? And don’t come at me with that ‘we’re just friends’ bullshit.”

“Well we are, so I dunno what the fuck else you want me to say.”

“The truth. You know everyone who goes through the Roadhouse all call her your girl, and she ain’t never denied it.”

“You know that was just so them guys would stop puttin’ moves on her when she was just doin’ her damn job.”

“Yeah, but that was months ago. You’d think by now the truth woulda come out, but if anythin’, with the way you two cozy up with each other when you’re together at the diner, y’all only reinforce it.”

“Good, then they’ll keep leavin’ her be.” Daryl pointedly did not address the “cozy up” comment.

“You know that ain’t my point.”

“Then what is it?” Daryl knew he was being purposefully obtuse, and he knew Merle knew it too, but he refused to give his brother the satisfaction of dignifying his taunts with a response.

But then Merle said, “She’d be good for you, you know? A girl like her. If you was with her I’d support it. Hell, I’d more than support it. I’d be over the damn moon.”

Daryl let his hands still, the staticky crumpling sound of the paper finally ceasing. He tossed the ball onto the table and leaned back on the uncomfortable couch, the structure of the thing hitting him at all kinds of unpleasant angles where the cushion was worn away. He stared headlong at the television in front of him. It wasn’t on, but the alternative was looking at his brother, and he didn’t think he could say what he was about to say and meet another person’s eye at the same time.

He said, so quietly he could hardly hear it himself, “Maybe I would be, too.”

[stevehairingtit]

🍓🕯️🎨 for the writer ask game if you’re still doing them!

how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

The official Maximum Ride blog linked to fic posted to fanfiction dot net (which, in retrospect, how? A legal nightmare).

on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Like an 8. In truth, I think I am a better editor than writer. I do it freelance, so I'm good enough at it that somebody wants to pay me for it lmao. When I edit my own stuff, that's when I get to give it life; my first draft is generally fairly mechanical and bare bones.

link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

This is challenging because twitter won't let me scroll further back than February, so I can't find things, and there is a lot of beautiful Stranger Things art. But here is a selection:

Created for me and my brief and I love when people draw Steve's moles as hearts - link

Love the big sparkly eyes of love on this graphic pornography - link

So sweet, imagine me anime squealing, I think this artist generally captures what charms me about steddie - link