#i keep saying that i'm going to post every friday but for some reason i never deliver

[verstappentime]

i posted about this before, but let me (as a journalist irl) elaborate what's likely going on with daniel!!

when no one asked dan about his future during press day last week, we all automatically recognized this was probably the result of an embargo (we have quite a few f1 fans in the newsroom). stranger still that christian horner was in the TP conference and didn't speak on it either. we had expected that combo to make a sort of joint announcement.

so what's an embargo/how does it work?

essentially, it's when a source gives you any information ahead of time, but requests you do not publish anything on it until a certain date and time. this can be done for a lot of reasons. embargoes usually request that you refrain from sharing information from a press release or document.

usually embargoes are put in place so essentially you keep to your time table of when the information becomes "public," but news outlets aren't left scrambling because they have already written their story and have it ready to go live as soon as it's acceptable. in the case of f1 this also applies to instagram posts and things like that. that's why you'll often see the posts go live straight away when an announcement is made; everything's pre-confirmed & pre-written, they're just waiting for the green light.

if you violate an embargo in sports journalism, you'll likely have your credentials to, say, get into the press pen revoked. you/your outlet will no longer receive any privileged information. and you'll likely be asked to take it down. not for any legal reason -- you're just burning a bridge and violating trust. so this info COULD be leaked, but under the honor system, it rarely is. (especially bc if you post embargoed info & ruin your org's reputation with the source, you're probably losing your job.)

so what's going on in DR's case?

most likely, all credible sources have either A) been given the information under an embargo, or B) been told the time they can expect an embargoed press release. (i work with law enforcement, so for me this is usually just something like "you can expect the records to be sent out before dinner time friday night but it will be embargoed till 9 a.m. when they're officially public record.")

either way, everyone has probably been warned off asking those questions, but they also likely already know the answer. whatever they received, even if it doesn't reveal all the cards, most likely said daniel would not answer questions prior to the official release time and essentially, don't bother.

what's up with all the rumors?

essentially, when every credible source has their hands tied, there's no one to counter all the randoms. we see it all the time -- people yapping trading theories when we actually know what happened and can't say. unfortunately in f1 some of the randoms have some sort of name recognition -- and for some reason there are like 500 completely not credible news outlets full of untrue shit. so right now, they are the only people 1) free to bang on with theories and 2) who dont either have the info or know when the info is coming available. so that's allowing them to take up all the space.

conclusion: this isn't necessarily good or bad, but explains why we're hearing so many irrelevant people's opinions on this and not hearing anything from VCARB, daniel or his team. it was most likely done to give preferred sources the jump on announcing the news, but also to allow daniel to focus.

i'm assuming the embargo will be lifted monday morning european time, but we may hear a vague denial this weekend as theres probably some building frustration (like daniel saying yeah you'll see me in COTA or whatever).

[allnite02]

.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

red dye, crushes and lollipops

genre: humor, fluff(?)

description: this is just a short drabble about jisung being your girlypop best friend, gn!reader

a/n: reader has a crush on Changbin, mentions of Minsung, sike I'm posting twice today, not proofread!

You wanted a change in your life and Friday after work you dexided to buy red hair color. You had never before dared for something like that but it was just one of those decisions that came to you on a whim. And who better to help you dye your hair than your best friend Jisung?

That's what you were doing now, you sat in front of the mirror in your bathroom as Jisung stood behind you and tried to dye your hair. Emphasis on tried.

"You're dying my neck."- you said, looking at him through the mirror.

"I'm here to help you and that's how you thank me, tsk. Let's see you do it better."- he smirked behind you.

"Alright, alright sorry, keep going."- you chuckled. Some random pop music played in the back, Jisung sang along and your hands and mouth got bored so you unwrapped one of the heart shaped lollipops he brought with him.

"Soooo, how's it going with Minho?"- you ask and his hands stop for a second. You can see a blush forming on his puffed up cheeks as he pouts at you.

"Don't start with that. You know I'm a pussy and I'd never confess to him."- Jisung shakes his head.

"He looks at you with literal heart eyes."- you say, swirling your tongue around the lollipop, the artificial strawberry taste takes over your senses.

"Then why doesn't he ask me out?"- Jisung asks, dipping into the hair dye.

"Maybe he's as scared as you are."

"Lee Minho scared? I don't think so."- Jisung shakes his head, his curls flying around.

Before you can answer, he smirks and retorts.

"How's it going with Changbin?"- he asks.

Your face matches the color of the dye at the mention of your crush's name.

"What does Changbin have to do with anything?"- you pretend to be dumb out of embarassment.

"Come on. I know you're down bad for him. You ogle at his muscles every time you see him."- Jisung cackles at your face and you swat behind yourself to hit him but he dodges, the little bastard.

"Shut the hell up, Ji. Changbin doesn't like me."- you say.

"How are you so sure?"- he asks, running his hands through your hair.

"He's like... so hot. And I'm not. Like I've never been to a gym in my life."- you reason but Jisung only laughs at you.

"What does that have to do with anything? Changbin definitely likes you and he likes you just the way you are. You don't have to like the same things he does for him to like you."

"But, what would I talk about with him?"- you sigh, your shoulders slumping.

"Anything? Like, have you ever really sat down and talked to him?"- Jisung asks and steps to the side, tilting his head to see if he's done a good job with your hair.

"Not really. My mind gets blank whenever I see him, I just get so nervous!"- you say.

Jisung chuckles. "You should ask him out. By the way, I'm done. Now we wait, yeah?"- he says, washing his hands in the sink and you lean in closer to the mirror.

"Oh my god, Jisung! You got it all over my face!"- you whine.

"Listen, you asked me for help. ME."- he emphasizes, pointing his finger at himself. "Now deal with the consequences."

"Why did I even ask?"- you roll your eyes playfully and he hits your arm lightly.

"Because you love me. Anyways. As I was saying, ask Changbin out. You got nothing to lose really."- he says as you stand up.

"I'll ask him out if you ask Minho out."- you smirk as Jisung grabs a lollipop for himself too.

"Okay."- he says, popping the lollipop in his mouth.

"What?! Just like that?"- your eyes widden.

"Yeah. This way we both stop being pussies and maybe we'll get laid."- he shrugs.

"Actually, it's been so long since I've even kissed anyone."- you say, tapping your chin and thinking.

"Me too. Let's kiss."- Jisung laughs and you shove him away.

"Don't be dumb."- you shake your head.

"Should we try it tho?"- Jisung asks, tapping the lollipop on his bottom lip.

You stare at him, and it's not like your friend isn't attractive, you just never thought of him that way.

"Oh what the heck."- you shrug and lean in.

His lips taste like sugar and strawberries, they're soft against yours, but there's nothing else really there. You lean away and both burst into laughter.

"Ew, let's never do that again. That was like kissing my sibling."- Jisung scrunches his nose up.

"Ew right back at you. I'm a great kisser so you should feel honored that you touched my lips."- you joke and he shakes his head at you.

"Yeah right, I'm so honored. Couldn't be more honored. The honor is-"

"Shut up or I'll kiss you again!"- you threaten and he shoves the lollipop in his mouth and shuts up.

"The bathroom looks like a literal murder scene."- you look around chuckling and Jisung just shrugs.

"Looks fine to me. Normal Friday night."

"You got something to confess?"- you narrow your eyes at him and he laughs.

"Not really, no."- Jisung wiggles his eyebrows.

"So, we got a deal? You confess to Minho and I confess to Changbin?"- you say, your heart skipping a beat at the thought.

"Yep."

"Don't back out of it!"- you threaten, pointing your finger at him.

"I won't, I won't! I promise."- Jisung says, even though in his mind he'd rather disappear than confess to Minho.

Thirty minutes later, you wash your hair and Jisung helps you dry it and style it (after he also helped scrub your face where he messed up with the dye).

"Oh, man."- you say, shocked as you stare at your reflection.

"Wow. You're actually not ugly for a change."- Jisung comments.

"Asshole!"- you say smacking him and he laughs.

"I'm just joking. You look amazing, bestie. Changbin will definitely be swiped off his feet."- Jisung smirks poking at your shoulders and doing a silly dance.

"I wish."

"Look at the bright side. We can have a double date if everything goes well."- Jisung beams at you.

'If I don't completely embarass myself in front of Changbin', you think, your stomach twisted up in knots.

Three weeks later...

"So, did you kiss?"- Jisung asks and you adjust your phone, as you lay down on your sofa.

"We did!"- you say giggling, you really feel like kicking your feet in the air.

"Oh my god! I told you bestie! I told you Changbin likes you!"- Jisung cheers for you.

"What about you and Minho?"

"We did more than kissing."- you can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Oh you nasty."- you laugh at your best friend.

"He put his-"

"Jisung, I don't need the details."- you laugh.

"As I was saying his co-"

"Jisung!"

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

ATLA

all my skeletons out for the taking by 136108

Azula wins the Agni Kai, and the playing field shifts.

The Owl House

Grom Knight by ObabScribbler

Belos is dead. The Collector is defeated. The portal door is working again and everyone now just has to move on with their lives and rebuild normality as best they can. This is easier for some than for others.

When Willow invites Hunter to Grom, he assumes it is so that he, as a non-student of Hexside, can still be there to help Skara in her duties as Grom Queen. Emerald Entrails stick together, after all. Clearly there could be no other reason for Willow to invite him. This is all set to be a simple, friendly combined dance and fight with a demonic entity that reads minds and conjures your worst fears into reality. No biggie.

Except with Boscha and her crew of bullies around and feeling braver than ever, this Grom might not be as simple as they all hoped. Especially when Hunter discovers that being the reincarnated container of hundreds of years of Golden Guards' fears is a bad thing to be around a fear demon.

Clone Wars

and through the spaces of the dark by blackkat (+ podfic)

Jon's attempts to avoid a war he wants no part in are ended when Dark Woman drags him to Coruscant and straight to a posting with the Guard. He intends to keep his head down and do his work, but the mysteries around the Guard - and Fox - immediately have him in out of his depth and on uncertain ground.

Nine Worlds / The Lays of the Hearth Series

Friday Keeps Coming Next by rattyjol

Cliopher's first morning with the Sun-on-Earth was everything he could have dreamed of, until it wasn’t.

or: Cliopher and his Radiancy break time. Again.

soon, they said, if not today by Ariaste

Cliopher passes the Imperial exams on the first try.

It changes everything.

one for sorrow, two for joy by Ariaste

The Emperors of Astandalas did not have daemons.

Cliopher knew this could not, technically, be true. Thinking this thought, even in the quietest whisper in his deepest heart of hearts, was undeniably treason, but…. facts were facts: The Emperors of Astandalas, though worshipped as gods on earth, were each of them born a human being before they were apotheosized by the crown and by law and custom. Every human being had a soul; therefore, every human being had a daemon.

So the Emperors of Astandalas must have had daemons.

But by tradition and ritual and magic and taboo: The Emperors of Astandalas did not have daemons.

you laugh and you gleam with that roguish air by lindsayraindrops

Notorious rebel-poet Fitzroy Angursell is captured and brought to the Palace of Stars. Cliopher... copes.

(A reunion.)

with a winged heart by celebros

"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher."

I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow –

(A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum)

The Virtue of Being True by electropeach

"You're under an enchantment, Cliopher. The good news is that the protections his Radiancy has placed on you have shielded you; the bad news is that the protections that block the spell are also reflecting it, meaning that instead of you it affects everyone who comes near you. You may have noticed an unusual propensity for candor in your vicinity today?"

A reverse truth serum plot leads to Cliopher having a very strange day.

even a cat may look at a king. by mage-pie (looselipssinksubs) (Note: This fic is marked as abandoned, but it has some really great scenes that it's still worth a read imo)

"Hello, hello, hello!” said his Radiancy’s serval. She said it, in words, in Shaian, in a pleasant voice that came from her little snout quite naturally. “Good morning!” “Good…morning…?” said Cliopher, too shocked to control his voice. His mongoose got out of his bag and scrambled up onto his shoulder with an excited little squeak, her claws prickling through the tunic. “I have good news and bad news!” the serval continued happily. “Don’t you want to know what it is?” Cliopher could only stare. “Good news, I’ve figured out how to talk!” She lashed her tail excitedly, and finished with her voice full of enormous glee, “Bad news… I’ve figured out how to talk.”

The entire city of Solaara wakes up one day attached to magical animals that display each person’s innermost self with no regard for court protocol or even basic manners. It’s pure chaos… and that’s before the Emperor accidentally gives the soul-animals the power of speech.

[crmsnmth]

Hello

I guess I wasn't clear enough on the third version, so here's Version 4 Introductions are stupid. Hi. How goes it? Here's a little blurb of what I'm all about. I'm 36. I live in a small-town of about 2000 people in the center of the state of Wisconsin. It is not even close to as glamorous as it sounds. I've lived in quite a few other places though, but I guess it's true that we always go home. I work as a kitchen manager/EC. I've been working in the kitchen on and off for most of my working life. My first job was a cashier at a certain fast food pizza place that makes rectangle pizzas. That aren't good, but the breadsticks always kicked ass.

I am a massive music fan (it's playing right now) and when I tell you I listen to all music, believe me when I say all music. My main daily playlist is always growing and includes everything from iwrestledabearonce to Katy Perry (listen to her unplugged album. Kissed a Girl as a jazz type thing is beautiful) to Atmosphere to Miley Cyrus to Alan Jackson to Dying Fetus. My favorite band is Descendents with Amigo The Devil and Frank Turner coming very close to that coveted spot. I am a major horror fan, and I don't think I own a single t-shirt that isn't somehow horror related. I'm a sucker for the 80's slashers. I've seen every Friday the 13th movie enough times that if you ever watch them with me, I will annoy you by quoting the lines throughout the whole movie. I am Bipolar. Type 1. I am a raging cynic.

I am an addict in (long-term) recovery. I am sober. I write more than any sane person does, but I never once claimed to be sane. I write because if I don't, my head will explode. You can think this a metaphor all you want.

I do not write for anyone's approval, not even my own. I do this because it's the only addiction that isn't actively trying to kill me. I do it to get the thoughts out of my head, because if I don't, my head will explode, and I don't really like the idea of my brains splattering around me in a circle. I'd hate to have to clean up that mess. I always love constructive criticism. But please, for the love of all things holy, don't just tell that I suck. I already know that information. It's kind of a big part of my act. Tell me I suck but tell me why I suck. Give me a reason for my suckage. And if you can't do that, then maybe you should just keep your food hole shut.

So what will you find on my tiny drop in the ocean of the internet? You will see bad poetry, and an awful lot of it to be honest. You'll find random drops of fiction or a story I happen to be working on and want some form of opinion on it. I post at least once a day, but can post up to ten or fifteen times a day. And most of it is just your average mundane sad boy bad poetry. And if you see how much I do post, think of how much stuff I have laying around that never gets touched. I have boxes of notebooks, napkins and matchbooks with lines I thought were clever.

So since I write so much, what the hell is it exactly that I write about? That's easy. I'm pretty predictable in the end. So, this stuff: The Girl With Ocean Blue Eyes*, Kid*,The Broken Mirror Girl*, My Junkie Angel*, The Girl From California*, An Ex Band-Mate*, The Drunken Best Fried*, love, lost lovers, hopelessness, isolation, drug addiction, alcoholism, depression, forgotten acquaintances, mental illnesses, rage, hate, rejection, joy, insignificant moments, slices of life, laughter, beauty, self and self-reflection, self-hate, art, other writers, panic, infatuations, obsession, therapy, group homes, rehab, jail, grace, nature, loss, hope, fear, grief, anguish, philosophy, anarchism, nihilism, religion, god, the devil, ugliness, politics, serial killers, cults, suicide, death, destruction, chaos, music, validation, closure, memory, enemies, friends, rock bottom, sex, violence, rock and roll, sin, self-exploration, bipolar disorder, schizoaffecive disorder, pain, self-destruction much more.

Consider this line right here your trigger warning. Please see above to see my chosen subjects, and it should be clear that I will write something that can bring up some feelings. I make music as well for another creative outlet. No, I don't churn out songs like I do the written word, but I love my music and if you would like to tell me how much I suck at it here's the links:

If I come off as extremely depressed in my work, please know that I am fine. I'm good. Ok? Ok.

There, now you know the barest of my bare bones. You want to know anything else, just ask. I'm always happy for the fifteen second interaction. And I always try to interact with those who interact with me, but I am not one to talk first. If you follow me, know that I will most likely follow you back. Unless your space is empty, a bot, or straight-up porn.

*Added 7/2/2024 I get asked about them all time. Yes, I know I'm covered in typos and missing words. I used to try to fix then all but that started to get annoying in here. I apologize for them, but unless thy're pointed out, I'm not fixing them. This is my area right? I'm lazy and you get the meaning of what I'm trying to say.

*Not their real names.

*7/18/2024 Looking for people to read my actual book that I've been working and help with editing and how it looks to other eyes then my own. If interested in the slightest, send me a message and I'll gladly send you the link. I appreciate all the help i can get, as this is the book I would like, if possible, to publish. Thanks in advance If not, that's cool too.

[mdhwrites]

https://www.tumblr.com/everysongineverykey/709979889023008768/the-owl-house-was-really-like-oh-yeah-by-the-way-a?source=share

Thoughts on this post?

So my immediate thoughts were two things: One was that I always feel awkward responding to other posts because I try not to shit stir most of the time. Two though was that I just agreed with it. The reality of the Hexside kids is purely played for laughs despite being horribly traumatizing on pretty much every level. That's just true.

Then I saw the tag saying it wasn't a criticism.

So was it okay for Hexside to be treated like this? Wartwood had a similar rebellion and it had its own silly things like a themed food Friday and people still being their quirky selves. It works there however because while dealing with what life throws at you is a theme of the work, trauma specifically isn't really. It's there, I've talked about how smart Amphibia is with it to keep its tone consistent but that subtlety also makes it so that not dwelling on it is fine.

If I were to give TOH S3 a theme of some sort... It WOULD be trauma. I don't think it does this theme well, at all, but it is a consistent motif. Hunter's trauma about Belos, Luz's trauma about... Fucking everything if I'm frank but her core trauma is resolved at least once in each episode, technically twice in the finale. They graft on trauma out of nowhere for Willow. She's never dependable Willow, soft spoken and never complaining at all times, but now she is so she has some sort of trauma to deal with while also dealing with Hunter's new trauma of losing Flapjack. One could even argue that Belos has it running throughout because his desperation is potentially fueled by trauma of losing his brother and having his world shatter around him by his brother betraying what ostensibly would have been both of theirs core beliefs. You even have the Collector going through his shit with having been trapped alone for so long.

And then you have Hexside where no one cares about how traumatic all of this has been... Except Boscha. And Boscha is played subtlely, much closer to Amphibia, rather than the capital t TRAUMA that the rest of the cast is going through. As such, most people who watched didn't give a shit and just saw it as a half baked redemption arc rather than continuing a theme because yeah, why would you? What does she even have to say about trauma? That you'll get kicked even harder while you're down and the only option is to move on by yourself and just pretend like it didn't happen?

And that's honestly a problem with the theme in general. So much of the answer to "How do I deal with this," for TOH is to go "I'm awesome and amazing and fuck you for ever thinking otherwise!" It's the conclusion for Hunter's trauma with Belos, we don't get a conclusion with Flapjack really, it's the statement that Luz makes for her character finish of just how much she wants the entire world to recognize she's a bombass nerd -_-, and it's even how the series wraps up with only Luz getting the Titan's power and only her, while she quotes her favorite books, actually attacking Belos. This is your reminder that all the co-op attacks with King and Eda were done far away from Belos, fighting random slime for literally no reason besides the fact that both Luz and the show got lost for about a minute. Willow is the only one where compassion for needing to actually, you know, process your pain and be supported and helped with it might be the answer but again, it's not a core trauma to the character. It's a clumsily grafted on element that also has Willow force Hunter to confront his trauma with Flapjack which IS the answer for him so it's also contradictory. It's not given nearly the same weight as the stuff with Hunter and Belos or ALL OF LUZ where their answers are just 'deal with it'.

(Bonus points to Luz's core problem theoretically being that she was WRONG about Philip and at least two of the endings to that trauma, with her friends and with the Titan, are her being told "You're wrong for worrying," like that would help at all.)

So then you have Hexside where their trauma is ignore and played for laughs so you can just do normal fantasy rebellion stuff mixed with teen rebellion stuff. It's not bad when measured that way but it's contradictory to many of the points that the whole abridged season is trying to make. It's an element that conflicts with your core theme. It's akin to how we're supposed to take Hunter leaving the EC seriously and as this grand pain of his... And then also have people mocking Lilith for it and even having her go "I'm realizing I was bad at my job" back in S2 because fuck her and her trauma I guess.

And don't tell me it's because it's a kid's show. Boscha could have easily been the surrogate for all of Hexside and then you kick out Miki and just have Boscha to deal with. Focus the episode around getting her to open up, be defenseless, maybe almost get turned into a puppet for it as it seems her fears were justified... Before she looks up to find she's behind one of Matt's pillars and everyone is coming out to help protect Boscha. Because the only reason they've gotten through this is together and while they're happy Boscha has actually helped them despite her pain, she shouldn't be dealing with this alone. All of them will do better if they share this pain and so we get them kicking the ass of one of the Collector's hunter stars and the plan be to ride it up to the Archive for the main crew before they get snatched off of it. It has more to say about the complexities of trauma and how you can't just power through it, allows an acknowledgement of what this world has done to these people, all while still allowing the rest of Hexside besides Boscha to be silly and upbeat because they've been doing what they need to handle all of this.

So yeah, I think the blog itself is correct. I think calling itself not criticism though means ignoring what all of these conflicting elements mean for the season overall. Yeah, it's a cute segment as is but when you have a show like TOH that is trying SO HARD to say something... Shouldn't we be critical of when it's failing to do that or even muffling it's own voice?

Because the hex on this side of the Isles could have been used to do something more but instead was treated like a cute charm to fill time. That's not okay. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[fushiglow]

Hello glow!!! Thank you for another lovely satosugu work! :)

I absolutely love how real and tangible your writing is - seeing them start with different states of being turned on and building together really paints such a lovely picture of what intimacy is without the expectation of a perfect start-stop :) 3 cheers to realistic sexual dynamics!

Also, I think that your link at the end of your post goes to Violent Delights instead - but maybe that's just an issue on my end!

Thank you so much for this lovely feedback (and the heads up about the link), I can't tell you how much your words cheered me on Friday! They came at a time I really needed to hear them so, if you don't mind, I'm going to use this ask as an opportunity to say a few things about my writing and why I do what I do — no obligation to respond!

Quite honestly, I have been feeling a little anxious about how I'm perceived as a writer recently. When Over the Threshold started gathering some steam in January, I only had five published works on AO3 posted over the course of six months. By the end of August, I'll have 18 published works for Jujutsu Kaisen, 16 of which will be complete. I have never been this productive in a fandom before!

A lot of the reason for that is because I'm finally learning how to work with my AuDHD brain. I love writing, I really do, and I'm constantly excited by the possibilities that reside within my brain. I have more ideas than I have time or hands to write them, but I want to explore as many of those ideas as possible. In the past, I would have forced myself to stick to the thing that I was "supposed" to write, rather than following the burst of inspiration and writing the thing that I "wanted" to write. To no one's surprise, that usually meant I ended up writing nothing at all.

I'm someone who seeks out challenges, and all the fics I've published in 2024 have been experimental in some way. Come Get Your Honey was a challenge in extended metaphor. Balance was a challenge in seamlessly blending two very different universes. Mailman AU was a challenge in format. Violent Delights was a challenge in pushing myself to new and uncomfortable places. Thunder was a challenge in encapsulating an entire world and history within a single motif without ever actually seeing that world and history.

I'm really proud of every single one of those works, as well as the speed I've written them at. I've published 92k words on AO3 already this year and written far more, so I feel like I can no longer justifiably call myself a slow writer. However, all the works mentioned above have artistic merit in the more traditional sense — i.e. they're not smut.

At the time of writing this, three of my five most recent works contain sexual content with varying degrees of explicitness, and it's hard to escape that pervasive (and flawed) idea that smut is "less serious" as a form of writing. Even writing smut in the first place has been a slow process of overcoming some of my own biases. However, sex is part of the spectrum of human experiences, and it's also deeply political. Whenever I explore it in my writing, you can be sure that I always have that at the forefront of my mind. That's why these works, too, have represented something new and challenging and exciting for me.

Discreet Delivery was the first piece containing explicit sexual content that I ever shared publicly and, with how rife top/bottom discourse is in this fandom (most of which is based on heteronormative ideals that I vehemently disagree with), I really wanted to make a statement straight out of the gate. I'm very proud of how I managed to weave a switch/vers narrative into a oneshot, and the feedback on it was wonderful.

Headroom, however, presented a very different kind of challenge. It was extremely difficult to write, because it doesn't follow the beats of a traditional sex scene. There's no satisfaction for Satoru nor for the readers, and that made it tricky to keep it engaging. I was also very nervous about showing a different side of these beloved AU characters and establishing a new dynamic between them while incorporating some of the broader themes from Over the Threshold.

Finally, Tell Me I'm Pretty was pure subversion, writing Suguru in particular in a way I've never seen before to challenge expectations about "roles" in sex. It meant I had no blueprint to work from, but I'm not interested in reproducing the same dynamics I've read a thousand times. However, that also means that I felt very anxious about how people would receive this fic — especially on GeGo Day.

The truth is, everything I write I write for myself first and foremost, but it's hard to keep sight of that when you're blessed with an engaged audience. This is a huge reason why updates to Over the Threshold take time. This fic is deeply important and deeply personal to me, but its growing popularity adds a pressure that I don't want to influence my writing. I feel a constant underlying need to outdo myself with every new fic and chapter I post, but that's unrealistic and unachievable.

Obviously, I want readers to enjoy what I write, but I know the moment I start writing for other people is the moment my writing suffers. That's the main reason why I'm reluctant to put anything behind a paywall, even if I feel frustrated with the way fanfics are casually consumed on the internet. Readers occasionally make demands of me without any respect for my time and effort and creative vision, and sometimes I look at what I've written and think, "Am I really going to give that away for free?". However, asking for anything beyond tips would change the game for me. Enjoying my writing is far more valuable to me, at least at this point in time.

All of this is to say: I really loved writing Tell Me I'm Pretty. I had a blast with it — until it came time to post, at which point I suddenly felt full of self-doubt. For you to appear in my inbox and tell me that you appreciated the realism of the intimacy in this fic? I couldn't have asked for anything more, thank you so much ♥️

TL;DR, I write for myself, but god, it's the best feeling in the world when readers resonate with my writing. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to let me know. I love you all to the moon and back!

[luvtonique]

I feel like my artist career might be nearly over.

Now mind you, not because I'm burnt out, or because of some kind of controversy, but entirely because I don't know how much longer I can keep trying to push forward with it.

I don't hate my art, I don't even dislike it. It's my passion, and I want my entire life to be a life or creating art and telling stories.

I love sharing what I create with the world and I love having support from my fanbase.

But as of right now, I just can't get anyone noticing anything I do.

I've been working on a video game for almost a full year now, have gameplay footage I've shown, sprite animations, story I've shown off, characters I've been drawing and describing and giving backstories, and I get like 20 notes tops on anything I post.

I do streams for an average of 5 viewers every Monday and Wednesday and Friday. 5 viewers.

I have had a fundraiser to get me out of California because I can't afford to live here, I'm disabled, and I have a 75yo mother and an autistic brother I'm trying to get out of here too, and I barely scraped together $3000 of donations over the last year.

I pour my heart and soul into music that I've been writing and I'm met with backlash or people flat out ignoring the songs I post because people say my lyrics I write aren't worthy of notice or a paycheck. Soundcloud outright denied my ability to monetize my music. Completely. I am no longer able to request monetization.

The state of California has spent the last 15 years denying my attempts to get SSI, state disability, any kind of social security for my rheumatoid arthritis, and I even got told by a disability lawyer that they had to decline my case because I don't take medication for my disability. When I told them I don't have medical insurance because I don't qualify for MediCAL, they said that isn't their problem.

I watch other artists with 170,000 followers on Twitter bashing me and saying I don't deserve my fanbase for reasons they're just making up, and when I try to defend myself they just bash me harder and block me while I'm over on Twitter with like 300 followers and not getting noticed by anyone.

I reach out to my friends to get retweets, reblogs, etc. and I get nothing. No help, no love, after literal years of me promoting them and doing multistreams with them and collabs with them to help them get noticed.

I've even been blocked by multiple friends of mine when I asked if they wanted to partner up for projects. Really! Blocked! Outright blocked because people want so badly to get away from me!

I am literally starving. I'm currently eating stale sourdough bread that my mom made 2 weeks ago because it's all we have in the house.

I'm sitting here suffering constantly and when I ask people if they wanna like do a collab or do an art trade they always tell me they don't have time, and then the next day I see them post 6-7 art trades they did with another artist.

I make fan-art or fan-music for my artist friends and they just completely ignore it.

I am planning to rework my Patreon into a game dev Patreon to help support my solo development on Melodi, and I guarantee with certainty it won't breach $300 a month.

I have spent my entire life from age 11 to age 35 just working hard to make a living off of my art and all I have earned is a reputation as "a shithead" who never gets given the opportunity to question or debate or be interviewed by the people who call me a shithead.

I'm on the verge of fizzling out.

I'm barely surviving.

And when my game comes out, some day, it may very well be the last thing you ever see from me. I may just leave the internet. I may give up and go find another life to live.

Because even though this is my dream, even though this is all I've ever wanted to do with my life, even though I'm talented and my few fans I still have love everything I make and constantly tell me that my creations are gorgeous, I just plain can't keep doing this forever. I cannot, and will not, continue to suffer alone and obscure.

Case in point: This post is gonna get 2-6 comments from the same people who comment on all my emotional posts saying "I wish I could help but I can't so here's a virtual hug," 16-25 likes and 2 reblogs. And then I'll delete the post.

[minmaxi]

this fic idea has been sitting in my google docs for a couple of months. I'm not great at finishing projects and I'm usually more for something resembling poetry than a story, but I'm posting this as much for me as for a friend who said he's interested to see what I have cooking 😊 (thank you for the encouragement!) and, since I haven't gone to sleep yet, I think we can still call this

FUCK IT FRIDAY

I haven't settled on a title yet, so let's just call this one "the q-word fic," shall we?

———

Buck’s been thinking. Dangerous, he can practically hear someone say; but it's been quite a week, he’s allowed. With Chris back from Texas last week and Bobby finally back in the captain’s chair today, he’s practically basking in the serenity of things going back to how they should be. There's only this 24-hour shift standing between him and 48 hours off, and outside of vague ideas of spending some time with his reunited Diaz boys, he's still not entirely sure what he'll be doing after the shift wraps up in about… 19 more hours, according to his watch? He could swear it's already been 8.

The rigs are all stocked, the supply closet is organized, and he's long given up on finding the clipboard that must've grown legs somewhere between the engine and the ladder truck. Buck's been curled up near the TV, keeping himself occupied with an old YA novel that he's been rereading before he gifts it to Chris. The rest of the team is caught up on their own assignments, too, so anyone else who's not trying to bank some sleep or work out has also gravitated to the loft to settle in.

Adjusting in place, he realizes if he doesn’t move soon that his leg will only get stiffer, and right now’s as good a time as any for some tea, anyway. Setting the book down, brushing his fingers against the dalmatian statue as he stretches up out of the armchair, his mind turns from the new herbal blend in the cabinet back to the present evening.

So far, it's been a qui—

Buck freezes in place.

It's been a while since the last time anyone used The Q-Word in the firehouse, and if for no other reason than some kind of reflex, he won't even let himself think it. That word has bitten him everywhere, every time—from this very station, to a bar in Peru, all the way back to a ranch in Montana—to say nothing of the stories Hen and Chimney have recounted. Even Bobby takes it seriously, even if he thinks it's mostly psychosomatic.

Thankfully, he muses, Ravi learned his lesson from the last mishap—newer probies have been warned since—and everyone else on the A-shift knows better than to invite chaos with such reckless abandon.

"Heeeey, is it my imagination or does tonight seem like it's been nice and–”

Almost everyone.

All eyes turn to Eddie, elbows perched on the counter, hovering over a cup of coffee.

"–relaxed so far?" he smirks, looking up knowingly.

———

p.s. how does no pressure tagging work. I might be overthinking it. please drop in my asks or dms about this. 💜

[liminalmemories21]

Fuck It Friday - S4 Interstitial Outtake

tagged @jesuisici33 (thank you!), and for @rmd-writes because she asked for the full AU version of TK and Carlos going up to New York for Passover in S4 (this was written before the episode where they discussed children, and then cut after because it got Joss'd for so many reasons). I think there's a small bit of dialogue at the end about missing Gwyn that still got rescued and reused in the posted story, albeit in a different place (and this is why I never delete anything and have hundreds of pages of cut material).

Tagging anyone else who has outtakes they want to share. Outtakes are the best part of the after movie experience.

Carlos has no baseline for what to expect from either New York, or from a Passover seder.  He's seen New York in movies and TV shows obviously, and he's learned it more intimately from the stories that Owen and TK tell.  They're not staying for that long on this trip, and they're going to a seder on Saturday and Easter lunch with Enzo's family on Sunday, but TK promises that he's taking him into real New York before they leave. 

Enzo makes a face at TK.  "Queens is real New York."

TK snags a piece of grape from Jonah's plate.  "Debatable."

Enzo rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.  "Snob." 

TK shrugs and doesn't disagree, just leans in to whisper to Jonah.  'We'll take you with us, you're never too young for dim sum."

Carlos has even less idea what to expect from a seder.  He's read about it, but that's abstract.  They're going to a seder at friends of Gwyn and Enzo's, a family TK has known since childhood.  He'd made a complicated face when Enzo had told them a few weeks ago, and said with trepidation.  "Is Miriam going to be there?"

Enzo had laughed so hard down the phone that he'd dropped it.  "She hasn't had a crush on you since she was 15, TK.  I think you're safe."

"You're not the one she tried to hit on every holiday," TK says sourly.

Carlos does his best to keep a straight face.  "How old were you?"

"A year older than her."  TK grins suddenly.  "To be fair, I'm pretty sure I spent a lot of time at holiday dinners trying to awkwardly hit on her older brother, so you know."

"You did," Enzo says dryly.  "Every adult in the room suffered from schadenfreude watching the three of you."

The seder is lovely, long, although not as long as he'd been vaguely worried it would be from some of the blogs he'd read online, and as far as he can tell MIriam doesn’t try and hit on anyone except her wife.  He doesn't understand half of what's happening, but he nods at the right times, and takes the things that are handed to him, and piles his plate when they finally eat.  Mostly he watches TK and Jonah, and soaks in how alike they look, and how natural TK looks holding Jonah in his lap when he falls asleep halfway through the seder.  He has the same double vision he’d had at Hanukkah, of TK now with Jonah, and TK in the future sitting at a table with their children leading them through these same traditions.

Everyone tells stories about Gwen, and some about TK when he was younger, which make TK's cheeks burn red and bury his face in his hands.  "You are not allowed to tell anyone at home any of this," he hisses at Carlos when the conversation ebbs at one point.

He grins and crosses his fingers and nods. "Absolutely."

TK narrows his eyes at him.  "Just remember I talk to your sisters."

He nods seriously and then turns to Mrs. Fereira, “What was that you were saying about the play TK was in?” and dodges the pinch to his leg from TK.

Enzo vetoes making Jonah sit through two long religious events in two days, and they skip Easter mass on Sunday, but they do go out to Long Island for Easter lunch.  He thinks Enzo might have preferred to skip that too, let Jonah nap rather than get overtired and overstimulated two days in a row, but apparently his mother was willing to let them skip mass, but lunch was non-negotiable.

Enzo looks at Carlos as they pull up to the house and says, "I apologize in advance for literally everything."

TK snorts and reaches for Carlos's hand.  "I'm calling this payback for that first lunch at Tia Lucy's."  Carlos considers that, and decides that's probably fair.

He gives up trying to remember anyone’s names or relationships about three people in.  At some point he gets handed a plate piled with so much food that he thinks he’s not going to need to eat for a week after they leave. The woman sitting next to him snorts at the look on his face and volunteers her name, if not her place in the extended family, although he thinks she’s one of Enzo’s nieces.  “I’m Emma.  Sorry about the family.”

He smiles and takes a bite of the lamb and wonders who made it and if he can get the recipe.  “Don’t worry.  My family is a lot like this too.”  It explains a lot about how easily TK had weathered that first lunch at Tia Lucy’s if he’s got this kind of experience under his belt.

She gives him an evaluating look, decides he’s telling the truth and says, “Well, in that case I guess apologies for taking you away from your family on Easter.” 

He eyes the way TK has been suborned into a game of snakes and ladders by a group of kids, and the way Enzo’s alternately watching TK lose to a bunch of seven year olds, and keeping an eye on where Jonah’s trying to pet an elderly long suffering cat.  “You’re not.”

She gives him a sharp look and then nods with satisfaction and offers.  “Nonna practically adopted TK, you should probably expect an interrogation at some point.”

He tips his fork to her.  “Thanks for the warning.”

She shrugs. “He looks happier than I think I’ve ever seen him, and Enzo likes you, so you’ll probably do just fine.”

He doesn’t get interrogated by Nonna Luisa exactly, but she does ask for a rundown of his family, and job, and prospects and then starts telling him stories about a younger TK, and Enzo, and Gwen, and he thinks that means he passed.  TK seems to soak up the stories, even as Carlos can see how they weigh on him.  He nudges his thigh next to TK, letting him borrow whatever strength he needs.  TK reaches for his hand, thumb against his pulse point and draws him into the story that Enzo's sister is telling about the time Gwen tried to make lasagna.

"Wait," he says, "I didn't think your mother cooked."

Enzo's sister snorts at the same time TK does.  "She really really didn't," TK confirms.

Enzo's sister's laughs so hard as she repeats the sequence of phone calls from Gwen that half the story gets lost, and Enzo comes over to investigate what's going on.

His mouth twists in a rueful grin when he hears.  "She wouldn't even let me see what she'd made when I got home, took the trash out before I got there, and ordered Ethiopian from a place down the street.  She said she loved me, but she was never doing that again and if that was a deal breaker I should pack my bags and leave now, like she somehow thought that I had missed that the two of you lived on take out, and whatever your babysitter made you in the afternoons."

TK grins, and it's only a little melancholy.  "You spoiled us both when you moved in."

Enzo reaches out to ruffle his hair.  "Well, I had to bribe you with something to let me stay."

Enzo has classes on Monday, but they're not leaving until Tuesday morning, and they take the time to go out to Gwen's grave.  They take Jonah with them, and Carlos keeps an eye on him as he toddles around the cemetery while TK folds himself down next to the temporary marker.  The unveiling will be in late July, and Carlos has already put in for vacation time to come up for it.

He takes a few steps away to give TK privacy to talk to Gwyn, and crouches to take the stick that Jonah solemnly hands him.  He turns at TK's voice, raised just loud enough to carry.

"Hey, Jonah, come say hi to Mom."

He takes Jonah's hand to help guide him over to the grave, and then lets TK settle Jonah on his lap.  Jonah squirms a little, and doesn't really understand what they're doing here, but he catches enough of TK's mood to settle for long enough to obediently say hello to Gwyn and Carlos feels his heart clench when Jonah offers TK a small rock he has clenched in his fist.  He can see the tears on TK's lashes, but his voice is somehow steady when he tells Jonah, "That's perfect, honey.  Do you want to put it on her grave?"

Jonah looks a little dubious, but puts it on the marker and then looks at TK for approval.  TK kisses the top of his head.  "It's a way for us to remember her," he explains to Jonah.  He scrubs surreptitiously at his eyes and pushes himself up.  He looks at Carlos.  "You want to talk to her?"

He nods, and squeezes TK's hand as TK stoops to pick Jonah up and walks a little bit away for them to look at the buds on the fruit tree nearby.  He sits on the ground in front of the grave, in the same place TK had.  He's never really done this before, never really had anyone that close to him who's died.  He feels a little awkward, but, "Hi Gwyn.  Your son asked me to marry him, and it was the best day of my life.  I know I screwed it up a little after that, but he's got more patience than most people give him credit for, and he's got so much patience with me even when I don't think I deserve it."  He puts a hand on the ground.  "I promise you, I am going to love him for the rest of my life, and I am going to try every single day to make him happy."  His voice catches in his throat.  "I wish you could be there, to dance at our wedding, and tell me you told me so, and make him laugh.  But, even if you aren't there in person, I know that you will be there in TK, and in Jonah, and in the memory of every person you met and loved, and through me for him.  And, I am so grateful for that.  I don't think I have words for how grateful I am for him, and that you trusted me with him.  I won't let you down, I promise.."

When he looks up, TK's watching him with a small tired smile.  They go to lunch afterwards at the tiny dim sum shop on Spring Street, and they cut up a dumpling into little pieces and let Jonah gum at them.  The owner remembers TK, and looks sincerely upset when he tells her that Gwyn passed, and brings them out a plate of bao they hadn't ordered, and when TK says thank you Carlos can hear the tears in his voice.  "They were her favorite," TK says when they're alone.  "I can't believe she remembered that."

When Carlos suggests they just go home after lunch TK only makes a token objection.  "I was going to show you Manhattan." 

He nudges TK towards the subway, and hopes he's remembered the right one.  "We'll be up here a lot more times, you have years to show me New York.  Right now I think we all need naps, and he nods at Jonah who's already conked out in his stroller.

TK's mouth twists with amusement.  "I think I envy him a little."

They're playing blocks with Jonah when Enzo gets home that afternoon, and he makes a face as he sits down on the carpet with them.  "I am too old for this."  He points a finger at them, "Let this be a lesson, have your children when you're young.  Or," he reaches out to cup the back of TK's neck, "acquire them when they're past the age of crawling on the carpet."  TK grins and ducks his head, and offers Enzo a hand to lever him up off the carpet. 

TK gets quieter the later in the evening it is, but it isn't until after they've put Jonah to bed that he says, "I really miss Mom."

Carlos curves a hand across his knee, anchoring him, and Enzo reaches out a hand to TK and holds it firm when TK takes it.  "I know, kid.  Me too.  Every day."

When he comes back from brushing his teeth he finds TK standing in the bedroom, staring at the framed pictures on the dresser.  It’s a timeline of TK as a kid, with Gwen, with Owen, with Enzo, in the middle of a pack of kids he thinks he recognizes as younger version of the people he met yesterday, a prom picture of TK with another boy in a tux, both of them looking gangly and awkward.  He comes up behind TK, looping an arm around his waist and peering over his shoulder.  “You were a cute kid.”

TK twists his neck to smile at him.  “I think Enzo’s cherry picking the pictures.  I know Mom and Dad showed you all the embarrassing ones, don’t lie.”

He grins.  “Yeah, possibly.”  He drops a kiss to the back of TK’s shoulder.  “What are you thinking?”

TK sighs and traces a finger along the edge of a picture of him and Gwen at a restaurant somewhere, both of them grinning and laughing.  “I keep thinking it’ll get easier, that some day it’ll feel like less of a shock to remember that she’s gone.  But then Dad’ll say something and I’ll think I have to tell Mom that, or there’ll be something I want to ask her about, or something I want her to tell me how to do, and I’ll remember that I can’t and it’s like hearing Enzo say it for the first time all over again.”

He steps up closer behind TK, tucking his body closer.  “It hasn’t even been a year yet, sweetheart.  Give yourself time.”

“There was so long when I never imagined that I’d get married, not really.  But Mom always thought I would.”  He turns in Carlos’s arms to look at him.  “She said she knew you were the one, even if we never got married that you were the one.  She would have loved helping us plan the wedding.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow and says dryly, “Because what this wedding needs is more opinions.”

TK grins.  “Yeah, but she would have fought with Dad, and it would have been epic and we could have done whatever and neither one of them would have noticed until it was too late.”  He stops abruptly, swallowing hard, and Carlos can hear tears thick in his throat.  “She’s never going to see me get married.  She’s never going to meet her grandchildren.”

And Carlos aches for him, and folds him closer and lets him cry, and curls up with him in bed when TK will let him coax him under the covers.

TK hugs Jonah for a long time the next morning, until Jonah wriggles away, but comes back with a handful of acorns that he holds out to TK.  TK looks at them bemused, and Enzo stifles a laugh.  “He collects them.  It’s an honor if he’s giving you one.”  TK nods and takes his time picking one out and says thank you.

Enzo hugs him too, whispering something in his ear that makes TK hold on for a moment longer.  And then Enzo hugs Carlos too.  “Thank you for coming up.”  He looks at where TK is squatting next to Jonah.  “I always forget how much I miss him until I see him again.

“We’ll be back in July,” Carlos promises, “and then we’ll see you for the wedding.”

Enzo nods.  “Gwyn really loved you.  She was so sure that the two of you would end up married.  I like to think that somewhere she’s gloating, and annoyed that she can’t make bank collecting on all the pots she had a finger in.”

Carlos laughs, and TK looks up, and then pushes himself up.  “We need to leave, or we’re going to tempt fate getting to the airport on time.”

[dangerously-human]

Bible study bestie asked me when I saw her on Friday for her husband's birthday dinner if I was feeling Some Type Of Way about this summer ending my time with the young adults group. And I said no, it feels a little strange but I know I'm ready to join a new group, and she expressed relief and added that some people had been saying things like "are you really going to kick Rachel out just because she's turning 31" and heavily implying that I was unhappy about it. To which I replied, "You are the person I am closest to; if I was upset about something, you'd be the person I'd come to about it anyway, but even more so if I was somehow upset with you for enforcing this rule - I think we're pretty good at addressing things directly." Which, like, I guess maybe, if I were a petty person, I could consider it being on her - before she and her husband took over, the group never really had a stop point, it was just assumed to be thirty-something, and I happen to be the first person officially aging out. But that's a completely reasonable expectation, and she and I have been talking about it all year, planning for the future, and we're going to join the next group together (while she keeps running this one), so it doesn't especially feel like a big deal. I think she feels a tiny bit guilty, because usually when people have moved on, it's because of getting married/having kids, but there are plenty of single women in the women's group, I'm not worried about that.

She was relieved, anyway, and it kicked off a good conversation for us; but I guarantee you the worry attributed to me was coming from the young whippersnapper, who's been kind of freaking out about losing me lately, I think. Well, I know, actually, because part of his confession letter was this whole thing about how he panics a little whenever I talk about moving after I graduate and starts thinking maybe he should just come with me. (Oof.) I know he's operating from a schema of friend abandonment, and I've been trying to reassure him he's solidly stuck with me - while also putting some temporary distance in place to give him space to move past his crush, so on review, maybe it kind of seems like I don't mean it. As always, I'm a little frustrated by the unearned possessiveness while sympathetic to where it's coming from. Oddly, though, BSB seemed to imply this was coming from more than one person, which seems strange to me, because the only other people I'm close with in the group don't really come anymore, so I'd be surprised if they voiced concern about me not being there. Sort of the opposite, even: I've thought for a while that my "graduation" might end up being the final kick for the adventurer to stop coming, not exactly because of me specifically, but it's kind of far since he moved, and we've been the older pair for quite some time now - teased fairly often as "Mom and Dad" - so without me there, he might feel less like he belongs. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Idk, the whole thing is weird - not bad, just strange. It's a transition, and I have to be intentional about making time to see these friends when we won't automatically cross paths every Wednesday, and I should make it clear to them that I do plan to do that so it doesn't look like I've outgrown them. And I don't really love that my only real Bible study options from here are sex-segregated, but that's not really a requirement, it's just that the only other combined ones are during the workday, so mostly for retirees. I do think that's a weird pattern in churches, though. This post is getting so long and I'm not even sure I'll actually post it after all, I'm just having lots of thoughts and August is the time to be thinking about endings and beginnings and the melancholy in between, isn't it?

[jennilah]

I think i started to follow you bc of tiny!cas, like eons ago, let me tell you seeing you get into different fandoms over the years has been a delight.

I remember seeing post of you going like 'hey these slasher film kinda go hard' and look at you know.

I mean this in the best way possible, I feel i've been watching a house plant grow, every now and then catching my attention and being amazed by the changes

omg thats such a sweet way of describing my... well happy autism awareness day everyone, its a nice way of describing the way i naturally transition through my Special Interests lmfao

actually, for the holiday, let me infodump about this very aspect of my brain to anyone who isnt aware how this works for me. (also every autistic person is different, so this is just how this symptom manifests in me)

ill say "phases" to simplify, though thats an unfair word because it implies im "over" my past phases. 99% of my past phases are pretty much there for life, but in the back of my mind. (So long as I didnt have a "bad breakup" with it for some reason, which is rare but happens) The ability to become a raving lunatic about it is dormant until someone asks the right question.

There can only be one interest (sometimes 2, with one being the less dominant one) at the forefront of my brain at a time, though. that defines the "phase".

so for example, my recent Halloween phase is "over" and I am 100% fully into Saw now, but I still absolutely love Halloween and Michael and Jason and all those guys. as evident by me still happily sharing gifsets and art and buying merch etc if it tickles my fancy. They're just hanging out in the background of my mental display case.

yea whoever follows my tumblr for a very long time has watched it happen in realtime. the transition between interests. i know for a fact which phase I started this blog on. if you're here from the beginning, youve seen, in order:

-Durarara!! -Deus Ex -Supernatural -Godzilla -Detroit: Become Human -There was like a few weeks where it was HLVRAI -And then it was plants. There was a year-long stretch with no Special Interest and I was latching onto odd things (and I was very inactive here) -Halloween & Friday the 13th -and now, Saw

I have many other things I love, but they don't clamp around my brain in quite the same extreme way.

my phases can last any amount of time, anywhere from a few short intense months to 5+ years, its completely random, completely unpredictable. even the interest itself is impossible to predict. its not something i choose, its something that happens to me.

sometimes i avoid watching things for a long time because im still very emotionally attached to my current phase and im genuinely afraid the shiny new thing will replace it. all art or fic ideas for the previous phase? theyll be abandoned. all I will want to create will be related to the new thing. (though I will sometimes draw it anyway, like digging up old toys to play with once in a while. The likelihood just drops considerably)

which is why right now i pretty much put a pause on the other franchises I plan on watching. I'm genuinely gripping onto Saw like someone is tryin to take it from me.

and then sometimes im like "haha yeah right. ill be fine. ill eat my shoe if my brain latches to this" and then put on the movie and by the credits roll im a new person (yes thats what happened with Saw. I really had no idea.)

this is also why im terrified of even just "checking out" things that have, like, a toxic fanbase or something, because i cant stop a new phase from happening if it does. and its really hard to keep it to myself, fuck

(do u know how mad i was when i realized i was attaching to hoffman the evil dirty cop??? i was so scared of drawing him, dudes. but thankfully everyones been cool abt it and we're all very aware of his awfulness & we have fun w it)

and every time my brain changes and i do get obsessed with some new thing, i get really scared and worried and hope I dont bother everyone who followed me for something else :(((( and yet, every time, im absolutely floored by how many people choose to tolerate my newest nonsense and stick around anyway

anyway ive lost the plot of what point i was making here OH YEAH thank you!

tl;dr: that would be the autism! thank you, it WILL happen again! that is a threat! 🥰

[allthewriteplaces]

A Magnolia In May ~ Chapter Twenty-Two

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've posted anything about our beloved Shelby clan, but hopefully this funny filler chapter will make up for the absence. Also, there won't be a chapter next week because I'm going on a trip to a cottage with the family!! Chapter Summary: There might be a new addition to the Shelby family in the coming months.

Chapter Warnings: None, just overall chaos.

Word Count: 2369

Chapter Twenty-Two

Minutes turned into hours and before we knew it, it was past nine o’clock, past some of the kids’ bedtimes. It was arranged that for tonight, everyone could stay here and then leave in the morning, since even in an area as safe as this, it wasn’t ideal to go travelling at night. 

It was evident the kids wouldn’t be going to sleep anytime soon, what with all the excitement that was going on, therefore, Arthur proposed that the best and most reasonable approach to this little dilemma was to let them all stay up as late as they wanted to in hopes that they’d eventually tire themselves out. The only rule that was set, was that they play nicely and quietly. 

Most of the time was spent catching up with one another. 

Lizzie did end up announcing that she was seeing someone else, much to everyone’s surprise and delight, including Thomas’ and from what she told us, he seemed like a good and honest man and Polly insisted on meeting him immediately, to which Lizzie jokingly responded that she doesn’t want to scare him away. In a more serious tone, she added, 

“That’s also why I don’t want him to meet Ruby and Charlie yet. It’s not that I don’t think he’ll love them. I have mentioned them multiple times in conversation, but the last thing I want to do is confuse them. You know, they already have a dad, and adding a new person to the mix, they might not know what to call them.” 

“When John and I married,” Esme said, “his kids just called me Esme. I didn’t ask them to call me ‘mum’ until they were ready to do so, even though he kept insisting that they do. I knew it wasn’t easy for them, losing their mother, so I didn’t want to rush them. Sure, our situations are different, but you get what I mean.” 

“I do,” Lizzie answered. 

I sat there a minute, minding my own business, but then I turned to her. 

“You know, I thought the same thing when Thomas and I first got together; the children already have a mother --” I gestured to her “-- and the last thing I want is to take that away  from you and make you feel like you’re being replaced.” 

“Hardly,” she said with a laugh. “Perhaps if you were Miss Carleton or Tatiana, I wouldn’t have gone down so easily. I would have done whatever it took to keep my children as far away from your influence as possible, but you’re different from them, I would be a fool not to see it. You’re not just with Tommy because of his status or to stay off his bad side, you love him. With every fibre of your being.” 

“I do,” I answered with a nod. 

“You’re as much a Shelby now as the rest of us,” said Arthur. 

“Speaking of Miss Carleton, we do have a meeting on Friday,” Thomas put in. 

“Goodie,” Lizzie groaned sarcastically, which made him laugh. “And who’s we?” 

“I don’t mean it literally, I mean as in myself,” he corrected himself. 

“Well then, why didn’t you just say I have a meeting?” she countered. 

“You know what I meant,” he said, rolling his eyes and sipping his whiskey. 

“This is what you have to look forward to,” said Polly, shaking her head and gesturing to Thomas and Lizzie as they bickered, much like children would and I had to purse my lips together to keep from smiling. 

“What on Earth is there to talk about anyway? I thought you quit betting on horses after the last time. You said it went horribly and the horse ended up--” 

“One, he was already sick,” he answered, his voice deepening with controlled irritation at Lizzie having brought up a sore spot in Thomas’ past. “Two, she is here to see one of our horses in the stables. She hasn’t been herself these past few weeks and since she has owned horses before, she might be able to determine what’s wrong with her and if not, I will phone a doctor to come and check on her.” 

“Her?” Aunt Eliza raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes,” he answered. “Grace’s Secret is a girl horse.” 

“Hmm…” she nodded. 

We all noticed how she trailed off and Thomas tilted his head to one side. 

“Hmm?” I asked, repeating her response. 

“You don’t think she could be…” she continued slowly. 

“Could be what?” he asked. 

She hesitated. “Is there a chance she could be pregnant?” 

Thomas’ glass nearly slipped from his hand and landed on the floor, shattering into a million pieces and staining the ground with the alcohol inside of it. 

I thought back to when I’d gone to clean out the stables while the children were in the schoolroom and I’d seen her and another horse together and it looked to me that things had gotten very intimate. 

I mentioned it to Thomas later on that day as I washed and dried the dishes but we didn’t think much of it, considering there was little chance it would happen. Now all of her symptoms made sense: She’d been grazing a lot more these past couple of weeks and she tired more easily, she kept looking at her abdomen and holding her tail up. 

“It happened once with our mare. We thought she’d gotten into some bad grass and was sick, but no, our stablehand told us she was expecting. Albert and I were shocked. We had no idea how to care for a pregnant horse, but he was with us every step of the way, showed us what to do and when the foal arrived, she was a happy, healthy little thing.” 

“I remember that,” I said, “You both woke us up just before the sun came up and we saw it all happen. Alice cried because she thought it was gross, seeing all the blood.” 

She laughed. “Poor thing. She wouldn’t come out of her room for hours.” 

Ada smiled. “At least we don’t have to do it standing up.” 

“True,” said Lizzie, “I thought I was going to pass out having Ruby, and I was laying down in a comfortable bed the whole time.” 

“Try having twins,” said Eliza, “Sure, I had some time in between to rest, but still, it took a lot of energy out of me.” 

“They still do,” I laughed, to which she had to laugh as well. 

“They do,” she nodded, “but it’s worth every minute I get to spend with them.” 

Uncle Albert put his arm around her and held her close. 

“Cheers, Tommy,” said Ada, “You’re going to be a grandfather.” 

“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” Esme replied. 

“Sure it is, he raised her, and now she’s having a child.” 

“True, but he’s a human,” said Linda, “she’s a horse, in order for her to be his child, he would have to be a horse as well, and so would Ruby and Charlie and so would all of us and not to mention, Jessie and Tommy wouldn’t be able to--” 

“Great, Now you put the image of us with horse bodies in my head!” 

“You’re welcome,” Linda grinned. 

“I was being sarcastic.” 

“Well, so was I.” 

“Really, I didn’t notice.” 

“I don’t want to picture it, either,” said Lizzie, rubbing her temples. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Nancy,” Linda snapped. 

“It’s Lizzie and you know it!” she said, pointing at her. 

“Wouldn’t our top half be human and bottom half be horse?” said Ada. 

“It’s still uncanny,” said Lizzie. 

“I don’t have a single clue what’s going on anymore,” Ben said, confused. 

Aberama looked around awkwardly as the ladies continued to argue, fixing his hat to give himself something to do.  “I stopped listening after food was mentioned.” 

“No one said anything about food,”  said Arthur. 

“Exactly.” 

Thomas. cleared his throat, clearly not finding a single part of this discussion amusing even though the rest of us were trying hard not to laugh too loudly as to rouse suspicion. “I’m going to need more whiskey for this conversation.” 

“Make it a double!” Ben called as he walked away. 

For once, Thomas Shelby, who always had an answer to everything, who would outlive the Good Lord, Himself trying to have the last word, was rendered speechless. 

I watched him get off the couch and go into the cellar to retrieve another bottle. 

“Who knew something like that would rattle him,” Arthur observed. 

“I’ve seen him get pretty worked up over things like this,” said Polly, “he just needs some time to calm down, get his head on straight, then he’ll know what to do.” 

He came back and then sat down next to me, looking calmer, but still dazed by the shock of the news that was just dropped at his feet. 

“Tommy, a pregnant horse is not the end of the world,” she continued once he’d taken a drink from his new glass of whiskey. “Call a doctor, have him come take a look at her and then from there we can figure out what to do. There’s no sense worrying about it until we know for sure.” 

Thomas considered his aunt’s words. I wasn’t surprised that she was once again the voice of reason in the family, the one to pull them back when they got a little rowdy, then he set his glass down on the table and nodded. 

“You’re right, Pol,” he said softly. “I just worry about her, you know? She’s been with the family since Charlie was a baby and it’s the only part of Grace I have left.” 

Everyone was quiet and Polly leaned forward. 

“That’s not exactly true,” she began. “You still have memories of when the two of you were together, don’t you? Sure, not all of them may have been pleasant, but no matter how bad things got, the love was always there. And you two shared some very happy moments, like the first time you took her dancing, and your wedding day, and the birth of your son.” 

She paused for a moment and said in a much lower, more reassuring voice,

“No one can take those happy memories away from you.” 

He met her gaze and I thought for one second, his eyes gleamed with tears. It made me want to reach out and comfort him, to put an arm around his shoulder, to hold him and tell him it was all going to be alright. 

But I didn’t. I could tell this was one of those moments where he didn’t necessarily want physical affection, and he said later on that my silent presence was more than enough to keep him grounded. 

He seemed to be thinking about something for a long while, but he came back down to Earth a few seconds later and smiled one of those rare Thomas Shelby smiles before saying, “Why’re there so many sad faces here, eh? This is a party. We should be celebrating.” 

“Actually,” said Esme, standing up, her long, stunning curls falling in front of her face as she did so. “I think I’ll be heading off to bed. We have a long journey ahead of us and if I’m going to survive the drive in the carriage with the kids, I’m going to need all the sleep I can get.” 

She went upstairs and I didn’t miss the wink she threw my way. 

I wondered what she meant by it, but I didn’t have much time to ponder it because Aberama and Polly also rose from their places, stating that they, too, were going to be heading back home right after breakfast. 

“Make sure this one gets some sleep,” she told me while looking at Thomas, who tilted his head to one side innocently. 

“I will,” I reassured her. 

“Good girl,” she answered and the three of them went upstairs. 

The rest of us stayed down for a little while longer. It was almost midnight by the time we all went to bed. Even by midnight, the children were all asleep, including my cousins, who had been known to stay up past their bedtime when there was just too much excitement. 

For tonight, I elected to stay in my own room so as not to rouse suspicion and to not tempt Thomas into staying up late. 

“But it’s my birthday,” he protested, his voice whiny like a child. 

“No buts, Mister Shelby. I promised your aunt I would make sure you get some rest, and you can make those puppy dog eyes at me all you want, it’s not going to work.” 

“How do you know it won’t work?” 

“Because I have cared for more than enough children to know how this whole thing works and I can be quite strict when it comes to following the rules of the household, yours included.” 

“I can’t sleep without you, though,” he pleaded. 

It was clear he would try every trick in the book to make me give in, but while his tactics were well thought out and carefully planned, so were mine. 

Still, we could compromise, that was something that worked in the children’s and their parents’ favours in the past, and maybe it would work for us as well. 

“Fine. If you promise to go right to sleep, no funny business, I will stay in your room with you.” 

He pretended to think it over, tapping his finger against his chin. 

“Very well,” he said after a few seconds. “No funny business.” 

“Good,” I said and then after I changed into my nightgown, I went down the hallway and went into his room, closing the door softly behind me.  

He was grinning like he’d just won a gambling match by the time I slid into the bed next to him. I playfully rolled my eyes and turned onto my side facing away from him. His arm wrapped around my middle to hold me in one spot, he kissed my shoulder and my neck once. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “This was the best birthday I’ve had.” 

I smiled to myself, snuggling up closer to him. 

Then shortly afterwards, I heard him snore softly.

To Be Continued. Taglist: @cillmequick @zablife @sherbitdibdab @runnning-outof-time @izabesworld

[starlingflight]

Can we get a new chapter as a Valentines day treat. Or at least a sneak peak?? 🙏

Hello, lovely anon! I'm assuming we're talking about Someone Else's Life? (If anyone would like a Wayfinding snippet, let me know!)

I would love to post a chapter but I took some time to write a fic for @ladiesofhpfest Galentine's event which means I'm slightly behind on editing. Check it out here!

Also, someone decided it would be fun to make me join 7am work meetings nearly every day this week which means I've been going to bed at a reasonable hour instead of writing into the night.

Hoping to have the next chapter up by Friday, but here's a little snippet to keep you going:

“Did you have the dream again?” Ron asked.

Ginny nodded in confirmation.

Harry frowned. “Maybe.”

The way he said it made Ginny's stomach tighten into knots.

“You think that's real and this is the dream?”

He hadn't missed a beat before answering her. “No, obviously not,” he'd said with a certainty that Ginny hadn't felt in that other reality and she definitely didn't feel in this one.

“Maybe?” Ron repeated. “Are you saying you think the dream is real?”

“I don't know,” Harry said.

“No,” was Ginny's shorter and rather more definitive response.

“You can't be serious?” She demanded.

Harry's eyes fixed on the window behind Angelina, intent, apparently, on not looking Ginny in the eye.

"You said it yourself, when we were in that other place – world? I don’t know – that you thought it was real and this was a dream.”

She hadn’t actually. She’d made some stupid joke about the garden, because in that world everything was awkward and she hadn’t known what else to say. It had felt real though, that discomfort. Harry’s sofa beneath her had felt as real as the one she was sitting on now; Captain's fur had felt silky beneath her fingers.

“This feels real now,” she said stubbornly, daring the universe to defy her.

“Exactly,” Harry said through a sigh.

He rose from the sofa and leant against the fireplace; Ginny suspected he was trying to put as much distance between them as possible. It was behaviour she hadn't seem him display since that awful summer before her sixth year; she was far less willing to accept it now, with the sunlight from the window glinting off the silver wedding ring she'd placed on Harry's finger as he ran his hand through his hair.

He still didn't look at her. His attention was fixed resolutely on the opposite wall, as though the robin’s egg blue paint Ginny had picked out was suddenly the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. “We have no idea what's going on.”

“I believe I can help with that,” George said brightly, before Ginny could remind Harry that, in this world at least, she was his wife and he could at least do her the courtesy of eye contact.

[springstarfangirl]

Hiya! I'm trying to write a Jewish character, can I have some help please? I really want to make her good positive representation

Sure thing! Though do keep in mind that I am only one girl from one stream of a religion that has itself a history of over three millennia, so I can only speak for what I know, that being Orthodox Judaism.

(also this is getting quite long, but I don't know what I expected- the rest is going under the cut.)

So one thing to keep in mind is that Judaism is more than just a religion. It's also a culture, and even just being raised around it- even if your character is secular (doesn't perform the commandments) or atheist/agnostic (doesn't believe God exists/doesn't know if God exists)- it will very much affect your character's mindset and possibly show up in their life in other ways.

In fact, the reason why I separated secular from atheist/agnostic is part of that- Judaism, due to putting more emphasis on the doing than the believing, doesn't really care if you actually believe in God. There are people who very much perform Judaism as a cultural ritual more than as a religion, and they are just as valid as the people who believe that God is there in every corner.

Okay, so what kind of cultural mentalities can you add?

For instance, the idea of proselytizing is forbidden in Judaism. So the way charity differs from tzedaka can be huge. Tzedaka comes from the root word tzedek, justice, and is seen as a way to help someone who's down on their luck to get back on their feet. Not an opportunity to convince them to join your religion. *stares angrily at American charity orgs*

This has a massive effect on how Jewish people see the world. Giving to and helping other people makes us happy, and that in itself is reward enough.

On the more cultural aspect, the menorahs you always see on TV shows? Inaccurate. Those are specific to one holiday, Chanukkah, which is not only a rather minor holiday but is also sometimes viewed as the "Jewish Christmas" when it really isn't. Instead, what any Jewish household would really have is books, and lots of them. The way we view the Tanach is very different from how a lot of Christians view the Bible- it's rarely literal- and so often you'll find a lot of books about Jewish law hanging around. Also, prayer books and candlesticks. Adult Jewish men are supposed to pray three times a day, so someone is bound to leave their prayer book lying around. And the candlesticks are from the "ceremony" (I say, struggling to find a better word) where we welcome Shabbat on Friday just before sunset. A lot of families keep them out all week.

Food is also massively important. Do your research on what's kosher and what's not (though if your character is Reform this may not apply as much- again, I speak from my own experience only) and try to stick to that. That might involve a Jewish character avoiding eating outside the house unless it's a packaged item (which they might check for kashrut symbols), or whispering a blessing before they eat. Kosher meat and cheese are both very hard to find outside of places with a lot of Jews, so they might be vegetarian.

I can't think of anything else right now, so I'll tag @unbidden-yidden because as a convert, they have much more experience with the mindset distinctions between Christianity and Judaism.

Jumblr, feel free to throw all your additions at this post- I need all the help I can get.

I hope this helped at least a little!

[naranjapetrificada]

Fanfic Friday!

I still don't completely understand it, so this week I'm just gonna reflect on things that happened while writing this arranged marriage longfic, some of which I posted about on here and some of which I didn't.

I gave up on the Soup Paragraphs that were haunting me and realized I can introduce them later if I must.

I got in some "let go and let god" practice when I realized I don't have to get every little throwaway detail right, especially when it slows down my progress/makes writing miserable.

My therapist wants me to see about applying this Free Yourself skill in my non-writing life, to which I say I know you are but what am I

Characters put themselves in situations without my input and it was great!

Ceremonies are hard to write but at least I now know what Ed and Stede would be like if they were kids in a school play.

I started watching Rome again after thinking about it last week in the wake of the cancelation (I've had it on DVD for years). Still problematic in the way something made in 2005 will be, but otherwise it holds up incredibly well.

I've also stopped caring as much about all the people using the world's problems as a bludgeon against OFMD fans and the campaign to to save the show. For all the reasons other people have already articulated well but also, on a personal note, because of what this show has done for my relationship with writing.

I won't get into too much detail but suffice it to say I have a lot of baggage around writing, because of all the "gifted" nonsense of my childhood and my MFA experience as an adult. I don't blame anyone per se, but unhelpful social frameworks were unhelpful. Let's just say that when Pop-Pop said "if you were ever good at anything go do that" to Ed, it didn't not remind me of feeling obligated to do something that used to be rewarding but isn't anymore because it's what you're "supposed" to do. Anyway.

I wrote three short (<2000 word) fics between seasons 1&2, the first fic I've felt like writing in over a decade. It was liberating as hell to write again in a low-stakes environment, and with blorbo motivation to power me through the difficult parts. I never, ever thought I would write anything longer than 2000 words, but for the past (several?) weeks now I've been alternating between two drafts in tropes I can't get enough of, the shortest of which is around 10,000 (admittedly unedited) words.

The other is longer, and every time I work on it I keep having to break shit up so the chapters stay under 5000 words. This is unprecedented for me, and I've wanted to share it so much that I'm running out of shit to post on WIP Wednesday that won't reveal the plot or require too much context. I've never been in a fandom as creative (and creatively inspiring) as this one, nor have I every written so much in a single fandom before.

My relationship with writing wouldn't be healing like this at all if it weren't for this show and this fandom, and in particular I want to highlight the freedom in embracing the "David Jenkins School of Historical Inaccuracy." In fact, I've been keeping a running list of AO3 tags for the fic I've made the most progress on, and there are several "David Jenkins School of ________" tags, including Archaeology, Theology, and Comparative Politics. Thanks to seeing DJ's philosophy at work it's now possible for me to move on from certain details when I get stuck because they're "inaccurate" for the setting or whatever in a way I never could before. Now I feel empowered to move on from tricky details by asking myself:

Is it funny?

Is it related to the plot?

Is it character-building?

And if the answer to all of those is no, then so is the answer to question 4: "does it matter?"

Assuming I finish these longfics they'll be the longest creative pieces I've ever written and beyond the longest works of fiction I ever thought I would write, and for that I'm eternally grateful. Even if the world we live in is a crumbling disaster. Especially if the world we live in is a crumbling disaster.