#i don't think i'm ever going to be able to forgive my college and i don't know how i'll be able to get through one more semester

[magentagalaxies]

vent incoming:

got my grades back for my courses last semester and most of it was to be expected, mostly A's, maybe an A-, etc. but i honestly can't get over the fact that my independent study (the buddy cole documentary) was for some reason given a B. like sure getting a B isn't bad per se, I usually get at least one B every semester and i honestly don't really care about what my exact gpa is as long as i can graduate, but come on. this school put me through months of psychological torment over this project and didn't even have the nerve to give me a B+??? i'm still coping with the self-doubt they forced on me and this bullshit is not helping!!

[m4niackkyun]

Hi. (Announcement in the tags)

[mrsshabana]

Aaah there are so many I want to see but for now could you show Mafia!Demon!Gyutaro?

I'm so glad you picked this one because it is one of my favorites too! This fic takes place in the AAO au. But if Gyutaro didn't go to college and joined the mafia with the other moons instead.

If you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds au, basically demons live among humans similarly to Tokyo Ghoul. But they don't have to eat humans, they can survive by eating any raw meat. Though some of them will still eat humans anyways.

Content: 18+ MDNI, Gyutaro x female!reader, violence, kidnapping, sexual themes

✧:･ﾟ→ My WIP's

𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂!𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

The world of demons was foreign to you, but in the blink of an eye you were thrusted into this life and demons became all you knew.

The only other humans you ever interacted with were the other girls. Girls who were in the same unfortunate position as you.

You were no one special before. Just working your way through life like the rest of us. And that’s how he found you. You were the perfect candidate really. Young, attractive, and weak. He was sure you’d be profitable. Abducting you in the cover of nightfall as you walked home from work after a graveyard shift.

Your abductor, the demon with the two-toned hair, took you to the black market. Selling you to an illegal exotic dancing club. A place where humans are kept captive for the enjoyment of demons. Forced to wear lingerie and dance behind nichirin bars.

This became your new normal.

You hated everyone here. The other girls gave you a hard time because you were new, and the owner of the club didn’t help. She’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, with stark white hair, two-toned just like the demon that had abducted you.

For some reason, that demon often came into your thoughts. As you sit in the back room, preparing yourself for your upcoming scheduled dance, you think back to him. His appearance was terrifying, but something about him intrigued you. You’ve been an exotic dancer for only a week, and you haven’t seen him since that first day. 

Too distracted by your lingering thoughts, you barely notice the other girls shuffling out of the room. You’ve been surviving by following what the other girls do, the girls that have been here for years. And an uncanny feeling begins to form in your gut. One that tells you that you should follow them. So you hastily finish your hair and makeup, slide on your heels, and make your way towards the door. 

And that is when you bump into him.

In your panicked state, you open the door too quickly without realizing what’s on the other side. Walking into the man’s chest, with a huff you slip on your heels. Falling right on your ass, at the feet of the only demon you recognize in this place.

Glowing eyes stare down at you with a frown. His lips downturned in an annoyed scowl. Looking down at you as if you are his prey, his frown changes into a toothy smirk, showing off his sharp teeth. 

Every nerve under your skin burns, every muscle in your body aches with the desire to run. But you find yourself frozen at his feet. Staring up at him like a helpless puppy.

“I-it’s you…” you whimper as he quirks a brow at your acknowledgment. Crouching in front of you and reaching forward to grip your cheeks with the rough pads of his fingertips. He hums as his grin widens, turning your face side to side, inspecting you.

“Oh so you remember me? How sweet,” he coos.

Quickly getting bored, he rolls his eyes and stands, “Get up,” he orders.

“R-right,” you stutter, struggling to get back on your feet. Once you are able to stand properly you bow and apologize, “I’m so sorry for my clumsiness, please forgive me sir. I-it won’t happen next time.”

He takes a step forward and brings his hand below your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He’s pleased by how you speak to him, it’s so different from how the other girls react to him.

“So eager to please, I’m glad I found you,” he chuckles before releasing you from his grasp, “and no need to be so formal, just call me Gyutaro from now on.”

You nod and he pushes you aside, “Now scram.”

After that day, you learned who Gyutaro was and why he frequented this place. This club is owned by the Kizuki, otherwise known as the most dangerous demon mafia in the world. And Gyutaro is one of their top members, along with his sister, Daki, who so happens to be the manager here.

Gyutaro comes once a week to collect the money that the dancers have generated, and once a month he’ll bring new girls if there is a need for more dancers.

Every time you’d see him, you’d politely greet him. A part of you hates him for bringing you here, but you begin looking forward to his weekly visits, even though he rarely acknowledges you.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

You’ve been here for a few months now. Things have gotten alarmingly mundane. Your previous life becomes a distant memory as you’ve even forgotten what the warmth of the sun feels like on your skin…

Putting on your lingerie, slipping into a pair of stockings and heels before you exit your quarters. 

Daki waits for you in the backroom with a group of other girls. Something must be going on. Daki never bothers to interact with the dancers much unless she’s scolding them.

“Girls, listen up,” Daki yells in an aggravated tone, “we have some special guests tonight so be on your best behavior!”

She then begins pointing to girls out of the group, instructing them to come to her, “and… you,” she points to you, “the rest of you are off for the night.”

She picked a dozen of you from the group, “Ok girls, you’ll be having some very special customers tonight,” she smirks, “Come with me.”

You all follow her out onto the dancing stage, where nichirin bars separate you from a group of men sitting in front of the stage.

She instructs you to stand in a line. And your heart sinks at what she does next.

Pressing a button behind the stage, the bars begin to lower until there is nothing separating you from the men that sit in front of you.

And what do you know… there he is. Gyutaro sits nonchalantly with his legs spread wide, a lazy smirk on his face. He’s wearing his usual attire, ripped black jeans, black leather boots, and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His birthmarks and various tattoos are visible on his exposed skin. 

The other men you don’t recognize.

Daki turns on the music and shouts, “If you're chosen, give him a lap dance. If not chosen, you're free to go back to your quarters for the night.” 

What the fuck is happening right now. As far as you know, this doesn’t happen. They never allow girls to get in such close proximity to customers for safety reasons. Having half naked women flaunted in front of blood thirsty demons is a recipe for disaster, which is why the nichirin bars have always stayed between the stage and the customers. The only time a girl is allowed to give personal dances is if the guests pay a hefty price… and even then the dancer usually never comes back.

They begin going down the line, each man pointing to a woman of his choice. And for some reason, you’re relieved when Gyutaro points to you. Feeling a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders. 

This doesn’t go unnoticed. Gyutaro’s smirk is wiped off his face when you flash him the tiniest smile as you make your way to him. You shouldn’t be happy about this. He knows you know who he is and his status within the mafia, so why are you so eager to see him?

After each man has made his selection, Daki takes the remaining girls backstage. Leaving you vulnerable at the hands of the Kizuki…

Dim lights flicker as you stand between his legs. Gyutaro’s gaze trails down your body, pupils hesitating when he reaches your breasts, and stopping when his gaze reaches your thighs.

This is quite awkward for you. Yeah, you’re used to dancing for guests but Gyutaro has never been one of your guests. He’s always just been the guy that comes to collect the money, you never viewed him as a customer. But orders are orders and in this place you know you have no choice. So you begin to dance for him.

“Stop,” Gyutaro says sternly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, “Sit…”

You nod and do as you're told, taking a seat on his lap, straddling him. He rests his left hand on your thigh, and brings his other hand up to your face. Moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Why so eager to see me?” words drawn out, his hooded lids stare at you with a lazy expression.

“I-I was just glad that you picked me…” you blush, feeling your body heat up.

He hums, holding your hips down as he rolls his hips upwards. A hard bulge can be felt through his jeans, rubbing directly on the wet spot shamefully forming in your panties.

“I can’t imagine why,” he growls.

You lean forward to hold onto his shoulders for support, “You-you’re the only one I recognized…”

Gyutaro can see right through you as you spit out a half truth. Trying to convince yourself that that is the only reason that you were happy to see him. That you haven’t formed some sick attraction towards him. 

“Well, I was happy to see you too,” he smirks, caressing your cheek, “so pretty, so obedient, so eager to please… so sweet to me every time I come by each week.”

His praises make the tightness in your chest worsen, you feel like you can’t breathe. Your whole body feels hot as he leans forward to kiss your neck. Nipping at your collarbone with his teeth. Your small acts of kindness and simple decency towards him have caused him to grow a liking to you. Forming foreign feelings towards something that he only viewed as food before.

Tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you look beside you. The sight makes your blood run cold.

The man beside you, a demon with platinum blonde hair and rainbow eyes, is busy ripping out the trachea of one of the dancers. Blood covers his mouth, pooling beneath him on the floor. Looking further down the line you see similar acts. 

You seem to be the only girl left alive.

Gyutaro instantly senses your panic. Feeling your pulse increase drastically under his lips as he kisses your neck. You begin to squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you seated with a firm grip. Your breathing becomes choppy and panicked, whining as tears blur your vision.

“Hey hey hey, you’re ok,” he coos and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you close, “I’m here with you, doll.” 

“P-please…” you whimper pathetically.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Gyutaro grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, “You trust me don’t you?”

Through hiccups and sobs you respond weakly with a nod, “Y-yes.”

“Good girl,” he groans, “It’s just me and you right now… don’t worry about anything else.”

[messinwitheddie]

[Over 10 Summerweens ago]

Nny "That's your plan?! Keep him trapped inside your mind?! That's a shit plan! You do understand that's a SHIT plan, right?"

Dipper "Until I come up with a way to destroy Bill for good, it's the only plan I have to work with."

Nny "How did you trap him inside your head in the first place?"

Dipper "It was a happy accident. Dib and I were playing with this interdimensional scope and he just slipped back in, BUT this time, I know how to keep Bill from fully taking over."

Nny "Dib doesn't know either?"

Dipper "NO! He doesn't need to know! No one else needs to know! The whole damn point is to keep Ill-bay Ipher-cay off everyone's minds! If no one brings him up, it's easier to keep him from jumping into someone else's head!"

Nny "And you believe staying doped out of your skull is keeping him trapped? Aren't you in college? How are you supposed to function like this? For how long?"

Dipper "As long as it takes. Whatever keeps him from terrorizing my family.."

Nny "I'm not exactly the best person to give out life advice, but speaking as someone who has dealt with my fair share of cosmic horrors, I'm telling you THIS is going to backfire. Worst case scenario, the horrors consume you and drive you to KILL anyone who is able or willing to help you. Unlike ME, YOU have a network of friends and family who can help you. You don't have to fight these battles alone like I did-"

Dipper "I'm trying to protect my friends and family. This is a demon we've fought before. Please trust my judgment."

Nny "Trust the judgment of a 19-year-old frat boy covered in pot leaf decals trying to trap a demon in his head with micro doses of LSD... yeah, no. NO-"

Dipper "Stop calling everyone who made it into uni a frat boy! I'm not in a fucking fraternity! And forgive me if I don't trust the judgment of a man who once choked a woman to death with the chord to his headphones because she flashed a dead tooth when she smiled at you."

Nny "It was off-putting!"

Dipper "Grunkle Stan thinks highly of you. I WANT to believe you actually WANT to be apart of this family and you wouldn't try to hurt any of us, but I'm not altogether convinced. You want to convince me?"

Nny *frustrated growl* "Goddamn you, Squee, I can't believe you made me care about any of this-- YES, sure!"

Dipper "Ok, GOOD! Then keep your mouth SHUT and your short neck OUT OF THIS. Will you PROMISE ME, for the sake of this family's safety and possibly all of humanity's safety you will never mention this to anyone in this shack EVER?"

Nny "Son of bitch... yes. YES. Yes, I promise."

Dipper "Thank you. Let's get back upstairs before someone realizes we're missing."

Nny "Yes, LETS. That portal thingy gives off big moose wall energy and it's turning my stomach."

(A continuation of this dialogue)

[keiyoomi]

last chance

details: t. kei × gn!reader ; 800+ w/c ; loosely related to my first tsukishima fic?

trigger warning/s: murder ideation; implied stalking; implied blackmailing;

note: I'm getting rusty after not being able to write for more than a year now. let me know what you think!

listening to the sound of waves as it hits the rocky shore soothes your racing heart.

you've established a rule for yourself ever since you broke up with kei: severed relationships shall never be salvaged—no matter what might happen in the future.

but such rule was immediately ignored as soon as your gazes met at the reunion party of the old karasuno team.

he still has that air of arrogance that kept you riled up as a teenager. his features have already matured and he became taller over time.

most of the former members of karasuno learned about your past relationship when you were both in college—when he was still in a relationship with that other person after ghosting you.

“of all places, why did you chose this place for our conversation?”

“i've learned to keep my options open at all times.” you didn't bother to turn around look at him when you replied. “depending on your answer, I can to listen to the ocean while contemplating whether to forgive you and give you a chance.”

then, you glance at him. he walked towards your direction and stood close to you. he was wearing a frown on his face, clearly not amused by your statement earlier.

“and your other option?” he asked, stuffing his bare hands in his coat's pocket.

“bash your head against the rock if you piss me off.” then, you shrugged. “i can drag your body towards the water; let you drown until your body disappears—”

you paused upon feeling the weight of his hand on your shoulder. you turned to him and saw him covering his face with his palm.

“you good?”

“can you tone down your ideas... please?” the he removed his hand from his face. “i know that what I did before was wrong. I shouldn't done what I did to you back then. I know that I deserve all the hate that I receive from you, but...”

he pursed his lips.

“...I never lied to you whenever I said those three words. never.”

“hmm... I highly doubt it.” you looked at his face and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “i bet you've said those words to her too. while you suddenly cut me off of your life.”

“never.”

“what?”

“i've never said that to her.” you couldn't see his reaction as he spoke. “that's the reason why she broke up with me.”

you chuckled. “hm... I think you just don't want to be—” you paused while motioning your head towards the ocean.

“i'm telling you that I'm still in love with you after all these years. I am still hoping for your forgiveness. Hoping for you to love me again.”

“why?”

“huh?”

“why did you suddenly leave? why did you not even tell me that you're leaving? why did you tell everyone we know to never tell me where you are?” you asked before your voice broke. “just... why?”

he looked down and fiddled with his fingers.

“i... I love you too much that I want you to be with me.”

“what?”

his teary eyes met your confused gaze.

“i wanted to be with you until you graduate. I wanted to stay by your side and wait until we can go to college together.” he pursed his lips and covered his face with his hands.

you remained silent, processing everything he just told you.

“but hearing you look forward to a future where you achieve your goals even after we settle down made me realized how immature I was acting.”

he chuckled dryly.

“i am filled with too much love for you that i was willing to forget about my own dreams. I love you too much that I almost abandoned my goals, my passion... myself.”

“...and when you met her? did she made you recall who you are? did she reminded you of who you are before we met?”

“no. no.” he shook his head while looking into your eyes. “they were...” he paused. “they know who you are. they were one of those people who learned about me after watching our games.”

you shook your head, refusing to believe what he was implying to say. it wasn't impossible, but should you believe the words that comes out of his lips?

“i-i would never—ever—put you in danger. not when I can do something to prevent you from getting hurt.”

“i... I need more time to think...”

“please...” he said, kneeling in front of you while wrapping his arms around your legs. “give me another chance...”

“do you know how much I suffered after you left me? you idiot!” you replied while crying your heart out. you tried to pull him away from you but he kept his arms wrapped around you.

“let me go! hands off me!” you brush the tears from your eyes. “i won't believe a word that you say. you broke my heart. ignored me after we met again and now you're asking me for another chance?”

“give me a chance, please! just one last chance!”

you turned your head towards the glistening waters of the ocean as the sun began to set.

strangers from afar would think that it was some romantic proposal. the setting exudes romance on par with those scenes that could only be seen from movies and described by the writers on their works.

but reality was far from the imagination they have.

“one last chance.” you look at his pitiful figure. “give me another chance to myself to you. if you still believe that I'm not worthy of you...”

“i hate you...” you whispered.

tsukishima faltered as he heard those words from your lips. his arms slowly loosened around your legs, losing every ounce of hope that he has in his system.

“you big dummy.” you wept before kneeling in front of him too. “you could've told somebody about that person! you could've told the police about it! you could've told me.”

you leaned your head against his chest and cried with him. “all these years I've hated every fiber of your being. I hated you for leaving me behind.”

“i'm sorry,” he whispered, pulling you close to him. “i'm so sorry... for all the pain that i've caused you...”

you wrapped your arms around him while telling him the pain that you've felt all those years—and allowed him to soothe you until the sun finally sets from the horizon.

do not repost on other platforms | keiyoomi © 2023

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Sebek Zigvolt Bloom Birthday Personal Story: Part 1

"Happy Birthday"

Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)

[Diasomnia Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Sebek: For such a day to come so as to be able to participate in the traditional annual interview while attending the same school as Malleus Sama… I am moved beyond measure.

Sebek: It is only 10 more minutes until the interview is scheduled to start. Has the Presenter not arrived yet?

???: I thought I had made it early enough…

Trey: Looks like I kept you waiting, sorry. Happy Birthday, Sebek. Hope today goes well.

Sebek: Oh, so you're my presenter. HURRY AND BEGIN THE INTERVIEW!

Trey: Okay, okay, sure. Then, here's the first question.

Trey: “If you could use flight magic to go anywhere, where would you like to go?”

Trey: And you don't need to consider the amount of magic it could take to get there.

Sebek: Where I would want to go, hm… That is a rather difficult question.

Trey: It's alright to take your time to think. I'm sure it'd be hard to come up with a place when asked on the fly like this.

Sebek: No, it isn't that I cannot think of anything. I was simply thinking of how to respond if I have already arrived at my desired location.

Trey: You've already arrived at your desired location…?

Sebek: It is exactly as I say. I have wanted to come to Sage's Island, specifically Night Raven College, for a rather long while.

Sebek: In fact, ever since Malleus-sama enrolled here.

Sebek: However, even if I were to try to fly to Sage's Island, back then I lacked the magical skills and the flight techniques to do so.

Sebek: And even if I were to attempt to utilize public transportation, in my hometown, Briar Valley, there are no equivalent modes of transportation that does not rely on magic.

Trey: So basically, you guys don't have to deal with those annoying connections when travelling. But I bet it's a hassle to not have the means to go where you want to go.

Sebek: That's right. That is why I spent every waking moment yearning to see Sage's Island.

Sebek: …I read cover to cover the book that I asked my father to get me until I had it completely memorized

Sebek: Urgh, I will never be able to forgive myself for lowering myself to beg from that man. Only because Briar Valley does not have internet access…

Trey: When you say it like that… What, you don't get along with your dad?

Sebek: No, it isn't that we do not get along. Only, his wide grins raise my ire… Ah, but we do not need to speak of my father.

Sebek: You wished to know where I would like to go with flight, yes? Now that I have enrolled in Night Raven College, my next objective would be…

Sebek: No, I cannot say that anything has changed. From here to eternity, my place is at Malleus-sama's side.

Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)

Requested by @rotattooill.

[bengiyo]

Moonlight Chicken Ep 6 Stray Thoughts

Yesterday we focused on broken love from one person changing and the other staying the same. Wen and Alan built a romance out of college that Wen eventually grew beyond. Heart lost his hearing and learned a new way to speak, but his parents didn't go through the difficulty of learning to speak. As a result, everyone suffered, but the performances were spectacular.

Jim and Wen are going to make me revive the #they are literally always flirting tag. Still, I'm glad Wen clarified again that Jim didn't cause him to fall out of love with Alan.

Chapter 6: The Walk to Forget and Forgive

I had hoped that Wen's presence would enable Jim and Li Ming to speak to each other properly, but it's going to take time.

Sui Pornnapa is a good actress, y'all. Don't get too caught up in looking for villains to miss a good performance. The way she carries her unease about Li Ming before sitting down with him to realize that he really cares about her son. Because Fourth has such a joyous face, you can't help but feel her own pain and embarrassment that this boy knows things about her son she's never realized.

Okay, the note under the door was cute. You knew Heart was going to recognize the handwriting even if he didn't catch the tone of the message. Gemini, y'all. He's got great instincts about physically embodying his characters.

Saleng seems like he's on the side of whoever melts the ice prison Jim has locked himself within.

Earth and Mix have phenomenal chemistry. You can feel the easy desire between them, and the restraint never feels like internalized homophobia. Instead, it always feels exactly like an age gap tinged with a sense of responsibility.

You know, I had a feeling Beam had died. Something about the way Jim's grief felt like it was in stasis said that Beam died before they could reconcile or get closure.

In my feelings about older queers. We don't deal with this in BL often, but if you have older queer friends you'll be able to ask them about what it's like when one of us dies. Sometimes you have to rush to the apartment and remove all the gay content so their families don't know. Sometimes the families will refuse to tell us anything. It's a special kind of loneliness to not be able to mourn with people because they refuse to love everything about someone you care about and shun you.

Curious why Jim is determined to get the loan from this bank.

Holy shit, Khaotung. I have replayed his facial expressions as Jim finally crushes his hopes five times. You can see his wide eyed hope as he musters all of his bravery to ask directly, and then has to suppress his deep disappointment even as he can't withhold the tears. He even has to try to set his own feelings aside over the title deed.

I like cutting immediately to Saleng. I'm glad Gaipa still has that connection.

Love that Wen is determined to put a door in Jim's wall.

In my feelongs about how our Facebook pages become memorials.

This entire scene with Beam's girlfriend was so captivating. This is the kind of mess I expected from Aof. Two people loved a man and it made them both feel lesser. Then he died suddenly. No one can ever get closure with him, and instead must choose to live. I like seeing people near 40, because they have had time and realize the other isn't an enemy.

"People only go to the beach to get hot or get healed." I see you, Aof.

Oh, I think Heart is the first person to call Li Ming smart in this show.

Heart and Li Ming really are just so adorable.

I think I will accept the camera angle for their kiss because it's their first, and much of their dynamic feels private. Also, not sure I like Jim's dismay at witnessing it.

Alan wearing both of their rings as he goes on a bender says a lot about what his intentions were.

Lookwa gets to play Fourth's mom twice! Also wtf, Jim. I'm choosing not to read too much into a GMMTV preview.

[danidoesntdie]

One Year On Levothyroxine: Retrospective

Last year in October, I finally went to an endocrinologist and had my hypothyroidism officially diagnosed and was put on a small dose of levothyroxine. Two days later I cried because I could finally feel something other than empty and depressed. Now it's been almost one year since I started this life-changing medicine and I wanted to think back on all the ways it has impacted me in the long term.

During my Junior fall semester of college, I was barely able to move. I was not attending class, not doing my homework, and unable to concentrate. I was basically living with some of my friends in their dorm (which technically wasn't allowed) because I didn't think that I would be able to stay alive if I was on my own for so long (I did not tell them this). At this point, I had been diagnosed with MDD for 8 years. I was tired of good days meaning that I ate and bad days meaning that I'd stand on the side of the road.

Now I've been on medicine that works for a year and I feel like a completely different person. In fact, I feel like I never knew who I was before then. When I was younger, I assumed that I was going to die young and so had no ambitions. Now I can reasonably see myself living for another several years. This was so startling for me. I had all this time and I had no idea what I wanted to do with it. The past year has been a lot about self-discovery.

I started drawing comics last November as a way to cope with the several changes that were happening in my life: dropping out of college, moving into my first apartment alone, working two part-time jobs, and breaking up with my then-boyfriend. I know now that I love drawing comics, and that I don't want to stop anytime soon. I'm hoping that I can share my comics with more people to give them a sad chuckle when things are hard. I want to share what it is like to be depressed so that others can recognize it in themselves and in the ones close to them. This is the first aspiration that I have had for myself in a very long time.

I care more about my appearance. Granted, I'm still not the most hygienic. But I wear more than a T-shirt and khakis every day. I dress up for myself even when the only thing I'm doing that day is going to Walmart. I've learned that I love wearing bold and colorful eyeshadow.

I'm more likely to go out with friends. I'm more likely to make time for my friends. I'm more likely to care about my friends, what they like, their past, etc. That extends to my family as well. I have three different social circles which is way more than I've ever had in my entire life.

I don't shake as much at restaurants. Bright lights don't bother me as much. I eat when I'm hungry and have gained about fifteen pounds. I don't feel as lightheaded anymore. I poop every day (yeah, apparently you're supposed to? Didn't know that before). I have much more energy so I don't need to nap. I can count the number of days that I have spent in bed not moving on my fingers, whereas before I could go for weeks without leaving my room except for food.

I'm happier with myself and more forgiving. I'm moving forward with my life and am wondering still what I want out of it.

Thank you for being a part of it.

[jaysbookofnothing]

Forth Wing Review

What is there not to love about the fourth wing? We have dragons, we have a found family, we have smut, a mildly confusing plot, an enemy to a lover that moves by too fast for it to be an enemy to a lover. So let's go into my thoughts about it. The story follows Violet Sorrengail, who, despite her small stature and preference for scholarly pursuits, is forced by her mother to join the elite dragon rider academy, Basgiath War College.

Violet Sorrengail, the protagonist—I didn't mind her that much; she was an okay character. I wish we got more onto her having a cronic illness or having a disability of some sort that would excuse the whole "Youre too weak" thing because it got annoying to read so many people call her weak when she's pretty average. Another thing I liked about Violet being short was that she didn't just get forgotten about immediately; she had to get extra things to make up for it.

Xaden Riorson was okay—nothing amazing, nothing horrible—to me personally. didn't like how quickly he and Violet were set up as enemies and then to just not be? It felt more like Violet thinking they were enemies, but Xaden not caring that much and just trying to not get in trouble?? I liked the rebellion set up at the end of the book; it felt like a nice tie-in. As said before, he's just another tall, dark, and handsome guy with shadow powers, as if we don't already have hundreds of them. I am curious as to how he's going to become king at the end, though (I think we're all aware that the rebellion is going to win and they'll be king and queen, yada yada). The whole "violence" thing is such a disgusting thought, and I will never forgive him for it. 

The dragons—yes, I am thinking of the dragons as characters because they are!! I honestly wanted more of the dragons; I wish there were more conversations with them, especially due to the bond and being able to talk to them. It just felt like a loss. I just really like dragons, okay?

Dian Aethos, nepo baby Gale. He's just annoying and pathetic. At the end, we say that his power is seeing people's memories after touching them, and how all through the book he was touching Violet (and reading her memory) just rubbed me the wrong way. The fact that he always tried to downplay her and never took her seriously annoyed me as well. It was funny to see him take up Xaden's role in the second book and look so weak in comparison. I wouldn't mind a revenge arc for him, honestly; I just want to go off and live his sad wet dog life somewhere else.

Rhiannon Matthias, I honestly don't know if I can count her as a main character, but since that's what the wiki says, I shall. Rhia is cool; she's ready to fight for Violet. She's a good friend, and I'm excited to see what happens to her plot line!

My nitpicks now! It was confusing as to why children of the rebellion aren't allowed to gather in groups of 3 or more but are still able to bond with dragons. I get they are forced to join in order to kill them, but if they don't die, then they have a dragon??? There was also (in my opinion) a lot of foreshowing, like Xadens always saying cryptic things about Violet's brother and Yada Yada. I don't have much to say that's bad. Fourth Wings is your basic romantic book for those who are into it. It was an entertaining read; of course there's criticism to be given, but I don't think it should be hated, like it's the worst thing ever. 

[heretherebedork]

If you could rate these characters based on how will the relationship with be to Mew and also what type of fucking will they gonna have, what? (Random thought but you could answer this)

Top

Ray

Boston

Boeing

Sand

Nick

Atom

Dan

See, the problem with this is knowing that there pretty much won't be any fucking and facing that, anon.

So instead I shall discuss this in terms of their relationship and their relationship alone and the future status. So let's see! (Rating, no ranking, just going in the order you gave me!

Top: Honestly, I'm torn on this. Mew claims to be giving Top a chance to prove himself but it also refusing to let go of his pain or actually forgive Top which makes their relationship a real struggle. But they're also both extremely stubborn so... I dunno. This could last their whole lives and, if Mew can ever actually find it in himself to forgive Top, could work. But first they both have to actually be their honest selves together. 6/10

Ray: We saw how that went. I don't think it could get better than that, only worse. If Mew found himself in another place where he felt like pursuing a relationship with Ray and Ray was in a place to accept it... it's gonna be dark and it ain't gonna be smooth and the spirals would never end. 4/10 in actuality, 8/10 for the mess.

Boston: I cannot even imagine this, honestly. Mew just would not. He can't forgive Top and he loves him, he's spent the entire show judging Boston for being himself and that would ruin any chance of any relationship. I just... even the mess doesn't allow for this to be more than, like, a hatekiss that they both regret. 1/10 but I want that hate kiss, damnit.

Boeing: Honestly? I like it. It'd be a competitive relationship full of two men who are sure they know what they want and have wanted and are very, very smart trying to constantly get the upper hand on each other. I actually think they could be great. I mean, Boeing would absolutely ruin it at some point because he is beautiful queer trash but I would watch every second. 10/10

Sand: I feel like Mew would spend a lot of their relationship judging Sand for making alcohol and for any not so savory jobs he does and that while they might be able to make it work, that Sand would find it very wearing. Sand also likes to take care of people and be needed and that's just not Mew. But I think they could end it friendly enough. 5/10 very typical college relationship

Nick: No. Mew has too many green flags for Nick and his red flags are too much in the moral direction. Nick would never. They could try but it'd end just like with Dan. Nick has his taste and it is not Mew shaped. 2/10 just a downgraded Dan

Atom: Can I be clear how much I want this to be canon? This is my new favorite ghost ship. Atom starts flirting with Mew and Mew tells Cheum and they both talk to him and Atom admits that he lied about Boston and not wanting to have sex with him but that is only because he wanted Boston to be monogamous with him!!! And they both approve and Cheum is convinced to give him a chance with Mew because Mew won't hurt him and they all live happily ever after. New best ghost ship, 11/10, no notes.

Dan: Could be cute. Dan is sweet and experienced and seems to have a good head on his shoulders. He could handle Mew's drama and past and he could help him move forward with a relationship while also helping him mature. 7/10, would be fine but not drama

There we go! So my two favorite Mew ships are non canon and they are MewBoeing and AtomMew. I love them both. How do I get them made?

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

If you guys thought I was done talking about Nancy Wheeler and Northern Attitude, you’d be WRONG

I don’t usually like,,, analyze music or anything on here, but my brain is just ahdkskjdks

Like, this song screams Nancy, but I think especially it fits post Vecna’s defeat

Breathing in

Breathing out

How you been?

Settled down?

Finally being able to calm down, learning to catch her breath again, settling down into some semblance of normalcy

You feeling right?

You feeling proud?

Struggling with emotions after. Is she proud? Does it feel right? They lost people. People were hurt. Everyone is going home with trauma at the end of the day. Maybe things don’t truly feel right, and it’s such a struggle to make this feel like a victory

How're your kids?

Where are they now?

The kids don’t need her as much anymore. They’re growing up, using each other as a shoulder to lean on instead of the teens. It’s hard to keep track of them anymore, like they’re drifting back to the distance before Will was taken. But she still worries, because they were all too young and will all carry what happened with them for the rest of their lives

You build a boat

You build a life

You lose your friends

You lose your wife

Nancy has always been Miss Independent. She builds that damn boat herself to keep from sinking into despair, builds her life back around her. She graduates, gets ready for Emerson. But the loss she’s felt sticks with her. Eddie. Fred. Barb. (You lose your wife, anyone?) Even the friends still around are busy rebuilding their own lives. She feels alone

You settle in

To routine

Where are you?

What does it mean?

Again we go back to rebuilding her life and going back to normal. Life becomes a routine, but she feels lost. What does it mean? In the grand scheme of things? It’s hard to make something so silly as college feel important anymore after the things she’s been through, the things she has survived.

If I get too close

And I'm not how you hoped

Forgive my northern attitude

Oh, I was raised out in the cold

After all of the loss, after having to be independent for so long, Nancy doesn’t know how to let anyone in. She’s built up these barriers and she’s so scared for anyone to break them down, to see the truly terrified, lost girl underneath. They may not like this defensive, broken side of her. She doesn’t know how to express emotion, she’s afraid of what will happen if the floodgates open.

I think being raised out in the cold is such a wonderful metaphor in two ways here. For one, it could allude to fighting the Upside-Down, living in this cold, survivalist personality to get herself and everyone else through. There’s no time for emotions when you’re saving the world from alternate dimensions.

But I think it goes deeper too, back to her home life. Nancy was raised by parents that fell out of love, if they were ever in love in the first place. She’s never had a healthy example of how to express things, has watched her father be an emotionless, uncaring man, has watched her mother push everything down for the sake of a marriage lost. It’s truly not a wonder that Nancy and Mike both are so bad with feelings.

If the sun don't rise

'Til the summertime

Forgive my northern attitude

Oh, I was raised on little light

This is another iteration of what I just said, but I’m thinking about the summertime line. The summer when Nancy met Robin Buckley, the sun personified. Thinking about how Robin isn’t afraid to show how she’s feeling, is rather open with her heart. Nancy sees this, and at first she pushes Robin away—but then spring break happens, and Nancy finds herself closer than ever with Robin. Feels the walls crumbling. Feels the floodgates beginning to open. Robin is open. Robin makes Nancy want to be open, and she’s scared of that. Robin is summertime.

You bought some shit

You search online

You're getting lost

You're getting high

Again losing herself in the routine of life. Buying clothes and dorm supplies for school. Looking over the school website, searching for jobs, making sure she’s registered. She’s just so lost. Maybe she does find some solace with her friends, gets a little high with Steve and Robin, maybe share a blunt in Eddie’s honor.

All alone

Late in life

Scared to live

Scared to die

No one tells you how lonely it is to be a hero. In Hawkins, people know there was an earthquake, but they don’t truly understand the ghosts in Nancy’s eyes. Emerson is worse. No one knows, everyone is blissfully unaware of the shadows that cling to Nancy Wheeler, the things she’s done, the people she’s bled for. It’s a lonely existence. And it follows her, fills her with fear. Maybe she could settle into normalcy again. Let the Upside-Down fade to distant memory—but she can’t help but fear that the second that she lets her guard down, something new will happen. She’s scared to live. Scared to lose herself or her loved ones.

You settle down

You're feeling lost

Getting stoned

Then kicking rocks

(Three, four)

People notice, of course. Classmates notice the way Nancy jumps every time the lights in the old buildings flicker. Her roommate was nearly scared out of her mind when Nancy awoke screaming and inconsolable in the night. They see the scars, physical and mental. Rumors spread about what may have happened. It feels like getting stoned—they can never truly know.

We come back to the main chorus, maybe Nancy returns home for the winter. It’s wonderful to see her family again, but god if she isn’t more excited to see her friends. Steve and her share a soft embrace, but it’s Robin that makes her heart quicken. The sun shines from Robin’s smile, fills her life with light that she’s sorely been missing, warming her from the inside out. It’s midwinter, but summertime is staring her in the face, and despite her fears, Nancy knows. She knows Robin is someone she can let in. Someone who will get too close. Someone that will forgive her Northern Attitude, because she too was raised out in the cold.

[ashtraythief]

Hi. I’m dying. I had a dream last night where you posted the end of Underneath, which should be a good dream, right? Nope. My dream gave it the worst ending possible. Jensen cheated, of all things, with someone he knows in his real life, and someone sends pictures to Jared. In a shocking twist, Jensen comes clean about everything, the cheating but also being Jensen Ackles and Jared just forgives him. I remember being so confused in my dream that you would take the story in this direction. I didn’t think Jensen would ever cheat, but if he did, I can’t imagine Jared just forgiving him. He’d burn their house to the ground he’d be so mad. I wouldn’t want to be the man that cheats on him, that’s for sure, haha. I’m still so relieved it was a dream. I checked your a03 the second I woke up, really happy there was no chapters of Underneath posted, haha. First time that’s happened. Like lying about your identity because your an FBI officer is forgivable to me, and we support it because Jared is a mob boss after all, but cheating is just not, haha. My dream self fully believed and accepted that was the ending. But anyway, ok, I don’t say this to make you stress about the ending. Whatever it is, it’s going to be great because you wrote it. I just thought this was funny and totally bizarre, so I’m sharing lol. Have you ever had underneath related dreams?

Omg nonnie, now I'm dying 😅 I'm both flattered and horrified that you dreamed about underneath and your brain came up with that. Because you're right, Jensen would never cheat and Jared would never forgive that if he did lol. There'd be murder, definitely. (tho now I'm having dark thoughts about Jensen going home trying to find his equilibrium, getting drunk with Steve and Chris, and there's this guy he used to hook up with in college and it's just--easy and Jensen needs to feel in control, not like with Jared who takes him apart every time, where Jensen doesn't have any defenses but with this guy, Jensen doesn't feel like that and it's. yeah. A way to step back, to focus. Nevermind that after he feels hollow and even worse and he stumbles to the bathroom and throws up and he's not sure whether it's the booze or the guy he fucked, and well, after, he rinses his mouth and stares in the mirror and he just wants to turn back time only he doesn't know how far, only knows that this was. wrong. But. We're not thinking about that! Because Jensen would never.)

Anyways, hopefully, if we're lucky I'll be able to wrap up the Meet Cute prequel this month (prayer circle my beta has the time to clean up the very wonky next installment) and then maybe the Pied Piper prequel next month and I don't want to jinx it, but I have been working on a fun, porny J2 timestamp so there's hope for more fic this summer. And yeah, it's inconsequential stuff, but I swear they actively resist the End, so I have to approach it covertly lol.

Thanks for your message, nonnie ❤️

[oblivions-dawn]

Hi Senufriend <3

Excuse me marching in here unannounced. I decided to send some asks, and well, I thought that perhaps you might also like these questions. (Feel free to answer in your own time or ignore as your spoons allow. <3)

I know we love to talk about breaking the rules in writing and obviously, that not every piece of advice is one-size-fits all, but there is a lot to say about being able to speak with each other about what we have learned during our journey. I was wondering if you wouldn't share. (I also plan on poking some of the others to see what more we can shake out. The more the merrier, no?)

What is the most useful/helpful pieces of advice you ever received during your formal education in relation to writing?

Once you started to write, what was the most important thing that you learned about writing or its process?

Has your real life had any influence on your writing? If so, how?

What advice would you give to aspiring writers (be it fanfiction or original)?

Awwww hello Winter!! It's always a pleasure to see you in my inbox uwu These are all very good questions to ask and you'll have to forgive me if they're not very thorough--or not quite the answers you were expecting.

I think I've mentioned this before, but the best piece of advice I ever learned in college was, really, one I learned from myself, and that was essentially that I was good enough. I'm not going to please everyone and that's okay. I can also pick and choose what critiques actually help me and which ones are . . . more of a suggestion than anything else. I built confidence in my writing while in college after watching students struggle to give me solid advice and was often told that they couldn't find anything to say--that it was good enough. Believe it or not, that's a very, very hard lesson to learn, and sometimes I still struggle with my writing. But I'm all about dismantling this obsession with perfectionism and striving for an actual mountain I can reach, and that really has helped me immensely.

Oh boy. I think my first story I ever wrote . . . I was nine-years-old, and wrote a story about my friends and I unravelling the secrets of a ghost house. And I remember having so much fun. I didn't get into the realm of fanfiction until I was about twelve, I think? Now I can almost say that I've been writing for half of my life, which is wild to think about. I think the most important thing I have learned all this time--and why I still write to this day--is learning to have fun! It's my passion and I would rather die than give up writing. It's a lot more work than people believe it to be, but the reward is so worth it. Writing worlds and characters that come to life on a page or screen just from WORDS ALONE . . . To me, that was always magic. And I wanted to be a part of that magic, too. So loving my craft and having immense passion for it was the most important thing to learn about writing--at least to me.

OH ABSOLUTELY. From something as small as a nervous habit to something as large as a major life event has significant impact/influence in lots of different ways! I also have a habit of studying people and myself so yeah there's. Bound to be influence from my life in my stories perhaps more than I'd like to admit. My interests of course also influence what KIND of stories I write! I tend to stay in the same tropes/genres because I never get tired of them and I never will uwu

Hmmm! This may sound silly, but just keep writing! Don't give up! Writing is ART and you will only continue to improve if you keep at it!! Also write whatever you fucking want!!!! There is someone out there who wants to read and love your story, I promise!! There are never enough stories in this world and there's no harm in adding your own! The more the merrier I say!! Write as many as you like as often as you want! Your writing is fucking AWESOME and I know you can do it!! I believe in you!!!!

[symptoms-syndrome]

Reflecting on my birth mom (not a great idea the night before a busy day. Whatever.)

My relationship with my birth mom has changed a lot as I've grown older and gained a clearer picture. I don't forgive her, I don't think I ever will forgive her, but I can understand her. She's a very, very mentally ill woman. I won't try and armchair diagnose her, but she was, among other things, extremely prone to paranoia and rapid mood swings. She was unpredictable and often extremely depressed. She did not feel she could rely on anyone but her children. She tried to keep us safe, to the point it was counterproductive. She was not ready for kids. She did not understand how not ready she was. She certainly was not ready to raise them as a divorced single parent.

She had me pretty young. Younger than I am now. I think getting to the age she was when she had me gave me a lot of perspective. I think that if I had a kid like me when I was the age she was, I wouldn't have been a good mom either.

She's very lonely. I know that. She never dated after her divorce and was very hurt and bitter about it. She told me a lot about how people will try and hurt you. Nobody will support you the way you need to support yourself. Always be able to take care of yourself. Always remember you're the only person you can rely on. She has some friends, but isn't especially close with any. She has a cautious relationship with her family. Her brother and parents are successful in a way she is not. I think she is very aware of it and very ashamed of it.

I kind of wish I knew more about what she was like before she got divorced. It must have been disorienting, being unprepared and dumped into parenting, and then single parenting. I've heard she was happier as a teenager and young adult. I know that's not my fault, though.

I wonder what she'll be like when my sister moves away for college. She really doesn't have anyone. She has her dog. But if the state of her house is anything to go by. I'm not sure. I was the only one really keeping it presentable. When I'm not there it's hardly livable. I worry about her. It's such a stark contrast to the houses of her parents and brother and ex husband. And she doesn't really seem aware at all of any of her issues.

[oonajaeadira]

Hey, Adira! Hope you're having a great night! For the weird asks, how about: 9. favorite smell in the summer? 33. most used phrase in your phone? 68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Have I told you lately that I love you?

It's so nice to be creeping back onto the tumbles again....thank you for making me feel welcome. <3

Favorite smell in the summer:

Wow. They weren't kidding when they said these questions were weird. Is it asking about my favorite smell period and then what it's like in summer? Or a smell specific to summer? I assume it's the latter. And while I could go on about my favorite smells in spring (lilacs), fall (dying leaves and cool air), and winter (cinnamon), summer is a hard one. Everything just smells more intense and it's usually the blech--hot garbage, hot bodies, hot dog shit. (Can you tell I'm not a huge fan of summer?)

So I had to think about things I do specifically in the summer that I don't do any other time of year and I came up with two: the State Fair, and Ren Fest. Of those two--mini donuts and nag champa respectively--I'm actually gonna go with nag champa. It's a pretty nostalgic scent for me in many ways--from the music store I loved in college, to the buddhist temples I visited all over Asia, the years I performed at Ren Fest, and a girl I really admired when I was young and how her hair smelled of it.

Because, as much as I LOVE the smell of mini-donuts, there just aren't as many memories tied to it. Unless you count the many times I have eaten mini donuts. Which are all very happy.

.

Most used phrase in my phone:

I actually don't know how to look that up. I don't use my phone much. I despise typing on my phone so it's mainly used to read emails or play games. Most of the friends I have that need to get hold of me know to find me over email or Marco Polo. I am very reluctant to text.

If I had to guess, it's probably "Okay" or "Thanks" or "Here."

.

Worst flavor of any food or drink I've ever tried:

The image of this tin is enough to make me throw things. This is what hell tastes like.

My father always had a tin of these fuckers and I remember trying so hard not to cough when I was sick and running to my room to cough into my pillow so my dad wouldn't hear and give me a piece of this evil.

(My dad was kind of an assface when I was little and was one of those "children are better seen than heard" types. Coughing was an annoyance and had to be stopped at all costs.)

So nowdays, Sucrets comes in cherry and honey flavor. But this tin up here? I don't know wtf that was. I wanna say anise and horehound? They were NOT sweet, but they were medicinal AF and had hexylresorcinol in them. That's a minor anesthetic, so it also had numbing factors to it. (Which just compounded the misery because I also had dental issues that are really too long to get into here, but I had to have my mouth numbed A LOT when I was young and that was a thing wrapped up in so much trauma....)

Dad wouldn't let me chew these satan pucks to make them dissolve faster or drink water to wash the taste away. So I used to let them sit on my tongue in one spot because if I moved it around my mouth I could taste it more. But you know what happens when you press an anesthetic lozenge in one spot in your mouth for too long? I wouldn't be able to taste anything in that spot for like a week.

I can still taste those things. And I'll never forgive him for it.

.

weird asks that say a lot

[harleiquina]

"May siblings be together, for that is the first law. May their union be true in anytime, because if they fight each other they'll be devoured by those outside" (José Hernández, "Martín Fierro").

So, today I found out that there was going to be a picket to support the WGA strike in my country (Argentina) and relatively close home. I wish I knew it sooner, I would've liked to join... but

I'm not a guild member (reason why I never received any kind of news about it) because...

Technically I'm not a writer (a professional, I mean. The ones that get paid to write) which leads me to...

I have a job that I hate and I can't just skip a random day because...

Even If they pay me very little, I am the breadwinner at home and every little cent counts... since...

My country's economy is a bloody mess that could be solved in over 50 years, if we are lucky.

So, here I am, making a post in solidarity to the Strike while waiting for the calls to start to ring. This might be a lenghty (and personal) one.

My journey into writing:

It was hard to answer the old question "what do you want to be when you grow up?" as a child because I wanted to be everything (except Doctor and Vet. I still don't like the idea of inflicting any kind of pain to heal someone -yes, I do know that anesthesia is a thing but it does wear off, did you know that? And painkillers too!).

At school I absolutely hated writing as homework, however I always ended up telling stories (my grandfather's folk tales) in the schoolbus for a limited audience. It wasn't until 7th grade that I realized that I was able to have original ideas and put them on paper... then I started to love writing and I would put my best effort into it. Yes, those were silly little stories usually prompted by whatever paragraph or sentence our teacher gave us (twice my aunts laughed at something I was proud of and I won't lie, it did hurt back then. Probably I would laugh now too). Still, coming up with something new was exciting.

In my senior year of Highschool I had "Applied writing" a subject that, supposedly, was there to teach us how to make our resumes, formal letters and other stuff that is "useful" in the work place or life itself. But that's not what I've learned.

I had Marcela Bullentini as my teacher. Someone that was quite scary with her desire for us to speak properly (eliminating the 'sh' sound from our bonaerense accent that changes words like "lluvia" -rain- to make it sound "shuvia", or our usual "perdón" -forgive me- instead of "lo siento" -I'm sorry- EVERYTIME she would answer with a mighty "only God forgives" to remind us that we were using the wrong term). After a few months of trying not to get on her bad side, I started to like her because I could tell that she loved writing and reading. And that's why she never gave us those boring lessons the other classroom's teacher (and school Principal, mind you) gave her students. She taught us the basics tools to write news, anecdotes, opinions and scripts for audio-drama (podcasts weren't a thing in 2009) and even TV (we did had to shoot a short film by the end of the year. Yes mine does suck). She is the reason why I considerated making a living out of writing. When the school year was coming to an end and it was time to enroll in College or the University and my classmates would ask "what are you going to study?" I answered them "I would like to be a Movie Director or Script writer". Guess what was their response... "Why?" usually followed by "that's too easy"

Too easy.

Too easy? How come? Why the Arts are "easy"? Why do you think that your dream of becoming a Sport's Journalist is better than mine wanting to tell stories? You'll still have to write something, you idiot!

Still, I did not followed my passion because making a living off the Arts is quite hard in here. You have to know someone who can "get you in" or beeing a professional boot-licker or work in the worst things ever, beeing completely stepped over and then you might ✨️MIGHT✨️ have a chance to do something true to yourself. And I wanted to be the argentinean Tim Burton, I knew nobody would've backed me up. So my aunt gave me an idea "why don't you try with Advertising? Many movie directors and writers began with Ads". So... off I went to Advertising School.

For those of you that don't know, Advertising is divided in 3 major branches: Accounting (the bridge between the Clients and the Agency), Media (the ones in charge of the budget and with the contacts to publish/play the ads everywhere) and Creativity (the ones that make the ads). I belong to the 3rd group and guess what? We're still thought off as an afterthought... as if making or writing for an ads campaing is something that is "easy", something that anybody can do. That we, the creatives, are just lazy people that every now and then receive a task, like anybody else would toss a bone to a dog, to "do something". To be fair, since I've never worked at an Agency I do not know if this kind of behaviour is present in them too... but all my classmates had this attitude and if they were meant to be the future of this profession, then I'm better off doing anything else but working as a Copywriter.

So here I am today, working as an Over the Phone Interpreter with over 20 stories locked in my head (and scribbled across many notepads and documents in my PC), too tired to write after work and trying not to sit on the computer on my free time because I spend the whole day, 5 days a week sitting in front of it. Still, sometimes I do get things done. My brain doesn't stop just because I have no time or because I'm tired. I know I'll get things done... eventually.

But Laurita, what does this have to do with anything?

This is my blog, I write what I want.

Context was needed.

As I said the whole "writing stories isn't serious enough" "it's too easy" "you can do something better" has been plaguing my life since day one. I was even able to see a glimpse of my favourite teacher's hopes and dreams for me crash in his eyes when I told him that I was studying to become an Advertising Creative. (I'm pretty sure all my teachers thought I would become one of them, or a doctor, or a lawyer, maybe even a scientist).

People!... Telling stories is important!

I dare to say that ours is the oldest profession (not the other one 😏) because whenever a lesson had to be taught, or something needed explanation, there was someone ready to tell a story about it.

Telling stories was never just entertainment. People seems to forget that even the silliest fairytale was meant to leave something behind with their audience. For ages my family and I wondered about the Magic Fish, a russian folckloric tale (a very lazy young man goes fishing in the ice for once in his life and catches the magic fish that promises that if he lets him go, he'll grant any wish he has. The guy ends up living in a palace made of gold and marrying a princess) and then it hit me: it was not the story itself... but the posibility of making many kids go fishing in the ice hoping to catch the Magical Fish that will grant them any wish. Well done, slavic people, well done 👏🏻👏🏻

I do not understand the constant dissmissal of our craft. Well... yes I do. People think it is easy because we make it easy for them. What's the point of creating something inaccessible? Why would anybody need to have a Post Doctorate in whatever field to understand a comic, a joke or a novel? We turn dozens (if not hundreds) of different concepts that fly through our minds into something understandable to anybody.

I watch Cinema Therapy where both hosts analize the psychology behind stories and characters. It is all in plain sight, we all know that Indiana Jones is resiliant, that Aragorn is a non-toxic man... but do you know how my family reacts when I tell them about any of their videos? "Isn't that reading too much into things? It's just a story, it's fantasy!"

It is a story, it is fantasy... but in order for it to work it has to be grounded in reality. Otherwise no-one would feel a thing for any of them!

And who does the dirty work? We do. We have to come up with real non-existent people so their fantastical escape is a good one. One that will make them forget their worries, one that might break their heart in a thousand pieces but carefully put it back with the warmest and stickyest-sweet glue you can find.

Oh! You know who killed the victim before the detective? That's because we feed you the clues so you can participate too.

Whenever my teammates in college had a "creativity attack" and started shooting ideas for ads, I'd step in to tell them why it would be impossible for us to use them (or at least why they didn't worked at all). They would get angry, of course, so I'd suggest them to do it themselves and what was their answer? "You do it, you are the creative one" So you make up your mind, buddy, either you trust me or not. You cannot have it both ways.

People doesn't realise the power that we hold, they think that we just come up with anything off of thin air. They ignore our investigations, how we observe the world and learn from it. They ignore our minds but get surprised even with the most obvious plot-twist (as it happened to mom, I told her something that was going to happen on her soap opera -so the bar was very low- and when it did happened she was like "how did you know?" I was tempted of answering with a "I'm a writer, I see what they are doing" but I just said "because it was obvious" If I actually tried to explain to her how I came up with that she would've thought that I needed help 😵‍💫). We accumulate knowledge like a dragon hoards gold. Anything is useful, anyone is useful. Don't make us turn you into a villan for our book or movie.

But still... we always get short-handed, stepped on, underappreciated.

We are the weirdos, the ones that live with their heads in the clouds, the "lazy" ones that spend their whole day on the computer "doing nothing" and can't close deals or use brute strenght to do their job. The ones that make up imaginary things hence things that have no value.

We know that it's not true. We know that we deserve better.

We had enough of that.

That's why we strike.