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#i need to air out wtf is in my drafts/likes
elegyofthemoon · 1 year
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simply put! the ending of fena does not exist !! whatever the heck was going on in there i didnt see it. the show ended with abel blowing up in fire and yukimaru and fena living a good life together <3
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kakujis · 1 year
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teach me!
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a/n: bro idk wtf this even is.. i was just horny at 3am the other night and its been sitting in my drafts since LMAO. but i like the idea of y/n being super dependent on her prince soo
ft: prince!izana x afab!maid reader
wc: 0.6k
warnings: orgasm control + denial, choking (like one lil squeeze.), fingering, lil bit of dacryphilia aaand thats it.
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being prince izana kurokawa’s maid meant two things: one, that you were expected to be the best at what you did and two, that his word was law. that was what everyone thought at first, but you were completely and utterly awful at your job.
you knew what all the other servants had to say about you behind your back, muttering about how you were a detriment to izana whether he knew it or not. some even questioned if you were as pretty as he thought you were, surely, he saw something in you that they didn’t or else he would have thrown you out long ago.
but what they don’t know is how much izana loves giving you “personal” lessons. your back is pressed against his chest, uniform bunched around your waist and your legs spread pretty for him as you fuck yourself with your fingers.
“you’re doing it wrong,” he chuckles in your ear, “that’s why you can’t cum.” he grabs your wrist, pulling your slick covered fingers out. “now do it again, like i showed you.” 
you shift and try again, trying to emulate what his digits feel like when they curl up into you making you squeal. it feels good, sure, but it’s nothing compared to how he does it. resting your head against his shoulder, you whine up into his neck, panting about how it’s not the same if it’s not him and you can’t do it on your own. you’re frustrated from chasing your high, release still so far away. 
“well that’s no good,” he says, pulling out your fingers once more. he brings your hand to his mouth to suck the juices off your digits. “let me show you again. i’m doing this so you won’t need me every time, okay?” he’s lying, especially with his voice so sweet. he knows that no matter what he teaches you, it won’t be enough without him. that’s why he sneaks you into his room every night to see you mewling into his neck or his sheets, it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re pliant underneath him. 
he starts by circling your puffy clit, applying just the amount of pressure he knows you like. then he slips two digits in, strokes languid and slow. it's already better, his fingers thicker and longer than yours filling you up so much than you could. when you arch back into him, he grabs your chin to force your head down. “pay attention,” he snaps.
“s-sorry..” you whimper, biting your lip as you watch as your pussy sucks him in. he always feels so good, rubbing up against that sweet spot that makes your walls clench around him. moving his palm down to rub on your clit, you throw your head back onto his shoulder again, already ignoring his command, glancing up at him with glass blown eyes. 
“that feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, looking back at you, eyes laced with mirth. he moves his hand down to squeeze lightly on your throat. "see how easy it is? you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, scissoring you open and you can feel your orgasm coming. 
“i’m gonna-“ you gasp, bucking into his hand. he squeezes harder on your throat, what precious air you had escaping you. it’s at that moment, when the pressure is going to snap that he pulls his hand out. your pussy clenches down on nothing and you whine. 
“you’re not.” he says, matter of factly, grinning as he releases you from his grasp. you gasp for breath, you were so close. tears prick the corner of your eyes as you pitifully hump the air looking for any kind of stimulation. he pushes his fingers past your soft lips and you suck obediently. once satisfied he pulls them out and grabs your wrist once again, leading your hand back to your sensitive cunt. 
“now let’s try it again, hm?” 
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Rick and Morty S7 Ep. 9: Mort: Ragnarick
(God is dead and we killed him…and killed him…and killed him)
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Turn away now to avoid the Viking hordes of spoilers ahead
My Favs
Delightfully unhinged…
This is a perfect description of the episode (and this season as a whole)
Somehow this episode combines the afterlife of Norse mythology, Pokémon, Bigfoot becoming an enemy-turned-ally and a showdown with the leader of the Roman Catholic Church into a story that is cohesive and wildly entertaining. Every single screen grab of this episode is one WTF moment after another, probably more so than any other episode to date.
…and sacrilegious
Did I mention that the villain of the episode is the Pope himself? Well it is.
“Fuck you, I’ve been tired”
Gotta love a sassy Morty moment.
Feral Clone Rick
I can imagine the conversation the director had in the recording booth,
“ Hey Ian, we’re going to need you to sound like a rabid squirrel at this moment. No, more rabid. More rabid.”
Plus, I don’t know what comment the writers are saying by implying a feral, animalistic version of Rick can make his way up the hierarchy of the Catholic Church….
Heavy Metal song during the tower defense sequence
Bigfoot being transported into Summer’s clone
Honest moment, I didn’t get why Summer/Bigfoot commented on how small her feet was the first time I watched this episode. I am slow on the uptake.
Poooooooope!
Popey Ball
I love me a corny pun and the fact that Rick had to point out this very corny, very obvious pun was icing on the cake.
Saying goodbye to Bigfoot
It absolutely killed me that they forced Bigfoot, who is just some guy at this point, back into the woods like he some stray animal. So mean!
Not My Fav
I wish we could have explored other afterlives.
When I saw the cold open for this episode I got really excited because I’m a bit of a mythology and religion nerd and I was expecting that this episode was going to be more of a deeper dive into different kinds of afterlives. It was a little bit disappointing that we only visited Valhalla and, very briefly, Jerry’s concrete and fog machine heaven. If I had written or pitched this episode I would have loved to see Rick and Morty hop around to different religions’ afterlives (Greek, Egyptian, Christian, Buddhist,etc.) and use different elements of those afterlives to harness infinite energy and defeat the Pope. Maybe in an early draft they went in that direction and it just got too bogged down and they had to cut back. Or maybe Valhalla is the only afterlife that Rick had a chance of getting into. He sure isn’t getting into Christian heaven after this episode.
My Thoughts
The concept of an afterlife is a bit tricky to develop in a show where one of your main characters is a staunch atheist and there is a scientific and naturalistic explanation for everything, including things that are traditionally associated with the supernatural, i.e. the afterlife. Of course, the explanation is nothing but science fiction mumbo-jumbo, that is said rapidly and moved on quickly, less we dwell on the nonsense too long. Nevertheless, I prefer the attempt to create consistency in the show's philosophy rather than have the writers throwing their hands in the air and conceding to the existence of the supernatural. Curious observation, we never see any deities in Valhalla and the Valhallans haven’t either since Rick is able to convince them that he’s Odin. Feral Rick being hung on a crucifix didn’t escape my attention either. It’s a running joke that Rick’s a god but maybe it’s not a joke after all…
This seems like a standalone episode but there has been a trend since season 4 or season 5 to have the penultimate episode connect with the finale, so I’m interested to see if this trend will continue. I don’t buy that Rick wants to tap into the afterlife just for the wealthy of infinite energy. Do you?
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bamboobrat · 1 year
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succession s4 e3 recap: i just called to say are you a cunt? 2/2
part 1
how are we dealing so far? personally, i am not.
tom calls his boyfriend with the news of logan's death, which turns out to be a huge mistake because greg is a dipshit with no poker face and a simp for journalist ass.
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guys, i even feel bad for tom. wtf is this episode.
roman is still in denial.
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the genius of the writers confirmed: i spent ages wondering if it was real myself, since we never really saw logan and it felt unreal. so thanks for the torture, i guess.
just as the kids receive news they have stopped doing compressions, the ship leaves the dock.
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stress level: uncut gems.
hugo is here.
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if i saw this man on the worst day of my life i would jump ship.
he informs the sibs that the board is drafting a statement and the reactions are who tf asked.
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we see a shift from grief to strategy. new leadership means they need to position themselves.
tom wants people to know he was with logan as he died. karl, gerri and frank need their name on the statement. and although the healthy thing probably would be to grieve in peace, the kids need to stake their claim too.
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calling a confrontation in a karaoke bar a family function is controlling the narrative. words are just complicated airflow.
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this screenshot is just in here because it has gerri in it.
roman continues his denial tour, this time featuring gerri.
bla bla bla the marked bla bla bla stock prices bla bla shiv casually suggests they leave the plane in the air for a while because of business.
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shoot logan into deep space for all i care.
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inside you there are two wolves: one who cares about legacy and one that is suicidal.
in this scenario, i would be connor:
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actually, i'm shiv, turns out:)))
i'm sure the mommy issues comes as a surprise to no one.
kendall is on the funeral planning commitee.
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"funeral off the rack" was the alt title of this week's recap.
and then, just as roman has pointed out they can just be children who have lost their fathers, who need to grieve, rumors of logan's health leak.
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fucking greg.
i'm always here for a good sibling huddle.
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how "inspirational quote on a boomer facebook group" of them to believe they are actually needed at waystay.
don't stop believing and all that.
i repeat, don't stop believing:
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you go, gerri, give him nothing!!!!:(
the way she looked so concerned for them when she entered the room:(( but then he acted like an asshole:((( and now everything is horrible:((((
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WE ARE LOSING THE LESBIANS!
DOSE OF FANFIC NEEDED, STAT!
help
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help!!!
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indeed. how will i ever survive the six days leading up to the next episode?
(it's fanfiction, the answer is fanfiction)
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i know that hugo referred to the journos when he said he had briefed "their friendliest" but i like to believe he's talking about shiv.
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guys, i'm so drained.
more business. logan is the stock price. anthropomorphic shit that would probably mean something if i cared enough to focus on logan rn.
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HUG!!!!!
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at this point, it seems impossible that these three will turn on each other, but a lot can happen in seven episodes.
roman's adhd brain needs visual conformation.
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this is very important, says woman who forgets the produce if it's at the back of the fridge.
connor wins this episode.
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he got his way: statue of liberty, weirdly patriotic band, no cake.
the healthiest relationship in this show is the one that is openly transactional.
speaking of transactional relationships: shiv goes home with tom under the pretense that he has to explain to her the details of what happened on the plane.
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what are we thinking? is there hope? (of course not) do we care? (i do, i do a little)
we end on kendall alone and the siblings separated. bad omen.
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"i'll be broken when you die"
we await an unpredictable road ahead, friends. buckle up, fuckleheads.
part 1
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monkeydluffy19920 · 2 years
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Review: One Piece tv special 3
That cursed corona stroke on May so decided to spend time watching  old One Piece specials and movies for the nostalgia whenever there was energy for that and did scribble a few reviews for fun (i.e: here is quick review for Movie 6) and then left them to the draft pile to wait the queue and here we are, me babbling randomness :D  Might contain spoilers and probably will end up being a long post by the way:p
It was written in OP fan Wiki that Oda-sensei was not involved in these older tv- specials or films (he has been active part of production since Movie 10, Strong World). According to this, these specials and Movies until 7 are considered as non-canon since these have individual plots and these happenings haven’t been mentioned in manga (except Movie 9 and 8 which were adaptations of Drum Island and Alabasta) although some of the movies could be placed in the canon timeline, basically.  
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One of the main reasons why this is one of my favorite from older specials is the humor. One Piece has always had good sense of humor and silly running gags but it felt like there was a bit more of that in pre-timeskip era. Well of course there is lots of going on constantly and I understand that Oda-sensei can’t put everything in these panes so something must be decreased and now it’s the humor part.
Of course there are still classical jokes but somehow it feels that there are not as many old shenanigans like in old days and things have become more serious after Time skip but anyway, back to the humor part. What I really love especially in this tv special is that everyone gets their share of it (instead of focusing on joking with one person only). First we have this part where Chopper gets frustrated when no one replies him what “theater play” means and he goes to his human form and then Zoro needs to calm him down like a old brother.
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Then just a few moments later the dork trio casually rushes into the theater and of course pick the “forbidden door” (which is even more amusing that Usopp is actually leading them there instead of Luffy who usually is the “head dork”) and then there are Nami and Sanji who try to keep on track like they were parents or supervisors of those 3 kid hearted bois  *laughs*
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Nami negotiates with the local staff so that each Straw Hats who wants gets a role in the play (Zoro wants to stay out and is the one who rotates the thingy that rotates the stage) and as expected, things don’t go as expected. Maybe the most memorable part of the special is the actual act and it’s because it’s hilarious.
First there is Usopp who did get one line in the beginning but wanted more so he kept hopping on that stage with various roles. Who knows he might feel home on stage by the way because he has been a storyteller ever since his youth and he delivers them full hearted so the sniper could indeed excel at that work if he only got the chance.
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What I find cute is that even a character that is supposed to be serious and stuff like Robin is also thrown into the pit of comedy.  Robin is known for her dark humor but this running gag has become more popular after Time Skip and this special aired somewhere around Skypiea arc so her comedic side wasn’t revealed much in earlier arcs if I remember correctly.
So, out of the blue she threw a musical performance in stage and Nami’s comment summed up it well since everyone went like "wtf” (because honestly, I don’t think anyone expected to see her doing that).
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One small detail I also liked in this tv special was Sanji’s entrance to the stage. Hard to describe but it was just cute to see such a confident appearing guy having a stage fright. They got those roles literally in a short time so no one would expect they’d do professional performances so his reaction was very human too and therefore relatable (because let’s face it, not many people enjoy speaking in front of a huge audience).
Despite the cheat note he couldn’t stay in his role (a pirate attacking the princess that was played by Nami) aand after that the rest of the play (or should we say remains of it) is history.
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So, everyone goes solo (princess gets suddenly shot, Usopp bouncing around, Sanji being mad about Nami getting shot although he was supposed to be the bad guy, Robin keeps singing and leaves when she realizes it’s not a musical etc).
What makes this whole ruckus even funnier is that on of that Luffy comes around with a random monkey costume (which fits him incredible well xD) and when he is asked what is he doing Luffy simply replies “oh I just found it lying around so...” and keeps going which pisses Nami off who was prepared to go according to the script instead of all this chaos their improvising caused.
I think their dialogue they went summed up nicely the comedic side of Luffy’s nakamaships: Everyone knows that Luffy can be the most random dude ever but he still manages to surprise his crew mates with new shenanigans and his crew can’t stop or help his randomness.  This is one reason to love Luffy’s character and his chemistry towards his crew in general.
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So, Luffy monkeys around, manages to accidentally make a little crash on stage which Zoro (the stage master) misreads as a signal to turn the thingy around and the chaos keeps going but the audience is having loads of fun (meanwhile the Marines are arriving).
Later the Strawhats learn that Rudolph, one of the actors is a retired Marine and having a sad past with pirates which causes him to go face to face with Luffy once he finds out who these new theatre “assistants” are.
Btw, must say that another reason I like the old specials is the animation because it looks hand-drawn instead of animating everything with fancy 3D stuff and don’t get me wrong, I like animation too but there is just something more nostalgic feeling in these non 3D-frames.
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So the play is now on the pause and their little battle is interrupted because the actual bad guy is arriving. He is Randolph’s old Navy underling, nowadays a commander (named Governor) who is extremely salty for their shared past and wants to ruin ex Navy’s farewell performance and gets him arrested like he was arrested back then.
Luffy somehow randomly pops up to this Governor’s ship and wants to help Randolph (and for everyone’s suprise, he is not carrying him like a sack of potatoes like he does most of the time) and this makes this bad Navy guy angry.
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Luffy orders Randolph to keep on playing the play while Luffy and his crew protects them which is a nice gesture and hereby teaches traumatized Randolph that there are good pirates too (just like Nami mentioned before that she could relate on Randolph disliking the pirates back in the days).
This battle was again one good example of their teamwork. Sanji and Zoro in separate boats battling the canon balls then Robin, Luffy and Chopper helping with the rest and Nami being in the watch tower and helping Usopp to aim with the right canons but they also fight individually at times.
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One reason this Tv special’s Navy boss is extremely annoying is that he is basically just a zero with big talks. Usually bad guys (navy leaders and pirate leaders) are known of having some sort of notorious skills (like devil’s fruits or battling like mad) or they are badass just in general.
However, as said earlier, Governor is just a salty guy who keeps on repeating himself but on top of that his army credits are questionable. Seriously being a navy leader and he didn’t even bother to check out whether Luffy was considered a a threat or not (and by that time Luffy already had a bounty).
Frankly spoken, how he did even manage to rise in such a high rank?.  It was just a good thing the rest of this Navy group finally realized what was going on and had the bravery to dump their commander. If someone, that guy deserved it.
That bad guy was so actually bad neither the hand writers or the animation crew wanted to waste time or frames on a grand finale (a 1 vs 1 boss fight)  so Luffy simply sends him flying once and so the day is saved and Rudolph’s ending speech makes his retirement even more epic.
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So all in all, the plot of this Tv special isn’t superior and the main villain is definitely one of the worst ones in OP history but despite that, this Tv special has a place in my heart because it’s one of the funniest specials and reminds of the good old humor most of us fans miss ever since Time Skip :)
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nealcassatiel · 3 years
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I read scripts for a living...... I don’t understand what on earth this ‘note’ is doing here, or why on earth Dabb would have written it.... something’s off...
I have NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS IN A SCRIPT. Mainly for this reason: EVERYTHING YOU PUT IN A SCRIPT DRAFT BEYOND A WRITER’S DEVELOPMENT DRAFT IS THERE FOR A REASON IN ORDER TO TELL THE CAST AND CREW HOW TO EXECUTE THE SCRIPT. And as a general rule, I have NEVER seen a writer’s note within a script. I know they happen on a RARE occurrence, but i can’t emphasise enough how rare they are. I have never seen them used in a previous SPN script. And they just aren’t used because YOU HAVE TO HANDLE NOTES LIKE THAT within the scene description, action, dialogue, or by using parenthesis or dashes or other screenwriting grammar-use tools. This pacing and tonal note of making sure ‘moments can breathe’ would and should be written into the fabric of every scene by any writer worth their salt. And that includes Andrew Dabb. And it’s not even like this is a complicated note to add within each scene? Essentially, this is an instruction on pacing which is dealt with within scene action and descriptions. I feel like these notes from the writer are used in films where the reader might not be able to understand what the viewer would see once the episode is made - so actors who play multiple roles, or if there is a seriously complicated concept to understand as a reader but less complicated to understand as a viewer - think trying to write Tenet. Anyway, my point is, that this up-top note we are to understand is written by Dabb. It’s a note from the writer to the cast and crew - so from Dabb. Why does he need to excuse the length of the script through a screenwriting Writers Note that IS BARELY USED and which I have NEVER seen him use before in an SPN script (although correct me if wrong). Who is Dabb telling this to? Why is it so important to put at the top of the script? Why, as a great writer (prior to 1520) can he not write this within the scenes themselves? 
So who is the pre-teaser note for? Apparently this script is for the translators (which is why the name of it as ‘FINAL DRAFT’ is absolutely bizarre, but i suppose this is a translator thing? But if this note pre the teaser had been added before for the production crew, why would this need to be explained to them? EVERYTHING in a script (which is a working, technical document) is there to inform the cast and crew about how to technically execute the script. So why would this note be needed for the cast and crew? Surely the amount of pages and how the scenes are written are enough to tell everyone that the moments need to ‘breathe’? And regardless, making sure moments ‘breathe’ is down to Robert Singer - does Andrew Dabb need to write that direction cue to Singer and for everyone to see? No. He doesn’t.
So if this script draft is for translators, do they need this specific direction? 
The script has revisions, therefore it’s a shooting script for the production crew so do the crew need this to be explained to them? But why? How will this really inform their work? Why are they even OWED this note? Or if this is for the translators if this was added post shooting - why do the translators need to know this? They’ll get the final cut and just do the dubbing/translations regardless of how long ‘moments breathe for’. The scenes will be taking in unhealthy gulps of air when they get to the translators who can’t exactly add more breathing space. They translate what they get - and can’t add more pauses so…?
I just don’t understand, why in a working script used to technically execute the production of an episode of television, ANYONE needs to be given this as a note? WHO IS THIS NOTE FOR?! 
Which leads me onto my ONLY A THEORY theory. This note, which reads more like a reasoning or an excuse, and written as a Writer’s Note at the top of the script - something I have NEVER seen within the industry, was purposefully added to try and cover up the bizarre cuts and omissions within the script. This isn’t a technical note to Singer, and isn’t needed by the cast who will read the pages in the way directed by singer and by Dabb himself. The lighting or props or locations people can’t add more breathing space. Dabb and Singer will be watching over the Final Cut and make sure the astronomical amounts of oxygen and unnecessary montages and dead air are all in the final cut. 
And regardless, this note speaks to the PACING of the script, and any good writer should never add a note to make sure everyone slows the pace of a script - the body of the script itself should pace the episode. And if we look at the scenes themselves, the moments ‘breathe’, or should we say - there is slow pacing created by pauses and ‘beats’ within the scene anyway. The ‘Note’ at the top is ALREADY written into the script, take for example this page:
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There is, clearly, multiple directions written into this scene to make sure that the pacing is slow, there are many pauses, and the ‘moment breathe’. In fact, there are NEVER MORE THAN FOUR WORDS before punctuation is added to make sure a pause occurs. Go through it for yourselves, any time you see: ‘--’ , ‘.’ , ‘...’ , ‘,’ , ‘(then)’ , ‘takes a breath’ , ‘a long, painful beat’ - any time you see any of those, or there is any action written, this is a pause. If there was any more oxygen and air to let this scene breathe, it would be doubled over with dizziness. 
So, from a technical standpoint, this note up top is REDUNDANT and UNNECESSARY for a working, technical shooting script. And regardless, when Dabb wants to make scenes breathe, he has already written this into the fabric of those scenes. He writes pacing into his scenes well, so this note is pointless and certainly not useful to anyone from a technical standpoint. So why is it in there? And who is it intended for? Is Dabb trying to excuse the fuckery that went on with people messing with his script to the crew? Is this an addition from the Network who didn’t want crew or cast questioning why a finale episode is so short and there are so many additions? Is this added when the script was altered for the translators in case it got leaked (as it has done) and they needed a cover-up/excuse if fans see it? 
Overall, the presence of such a bizarre note and my inability to work out why on earth Dabb would write something so redundant technically, and which sounds like a big excuse/false explanation of why this script is such a mess, makes me realise that either they’re covering their asses with fake excuses in case this got leaked, or the showrunners/network needed to add this to the script in order to explain wtf is going on to the crew or translators. 
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shijas · 3 years
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HELLOOOOO ITAFUSHIKUGI IS SO CUTE. BYE IM SCREAMING,, omg share some of ur hcs ? 🥺
WOOOW YAY!! they defo toe the line between a full on relationship and qpr for me and i adore them!! some hcs:
these kids spend like 60% of their downtime napping!! megumi usually ends up in the middle because i live by thermodynamic sink megumi! nobara sleeps like a gremlin, in that she probably rolls around a lot and can end up kicking people (shameless projection i’m a horrible person to sleep next to), whereas yuji sleeps like the dead unless he’s super tired in which he will probably murmur under his breath. megumi thinks he has no sleeping habits but he definitely snores and/or wheezes at some part of his sleep cycle
i think its funny that they all had crushes on each other but didn’t realise it at all, like megumi and nobara both initially think i’m not gonna crush on yuji, it’s yuji for goodness sake and then nobara knocks on megumi’s door at midnight like you have to save me i have a crush on yuji and megumi is like oh my god you toooo????????? anyway this is all fine and stuff until nobara finds herself with a crush on megumi and she’s like wtf the tokyo air has ruined me and then by wild guess she realises yuji has a crush on megumi so now she’s playing double agent while she has a crush on BOTH of them and probably runs crying to maki like senpai,,,, put me out of my misery, meanwhile maki literally heard megumi and yuji dying over the fact they both called nobara cute out loud when she did something moderately evil to gojo in class. eventually they all figure it out and it’s a fun polypile
yuji does most of the cooking because he’s the most competent cook, if it’s a complaictsd enough dish that megumi helps, nobara gets stuck with dishwasher and dishes duty much to her chargin.... megumi usually helps her with that too tho so it’s never too bad! the only thing that yuji doesn’t usually cook is tea. nobara is the tea expert, saori taught nobara all the tips and tricks to the perfect cup of anything and especially after cold or rainy missions, her blends are super well appreciated. to round out the kitchen chores, megumi is in charge of the shopping list because he’ll actually take note of things that are running out before they run out and draft a list as time passes, while preparing coupons/checking for discounts,,, and because he probably had the best taste in snacks...
yuji definitely hits his hinted at growth spurt and just towers over everyone (gojo is so put out, where did his tiny cute student go ㅜㅜ) and his strength just seems to increase expontially. nobara and megumi weigh NOTHING to him, he abuses his new tall powers constantly, like he wasn’t already abusing them before. hugs already guaranteed that you’d be a few cms off the ground and now nobara literally shrieks at how high she’s lifted. megumi 100% doesn’t know how to behave around him too like one day he was using those 2cms to his advantage and tilting yuji’s head up slightly and now he’s literally walking into yuji’s chest in the mornings it’s surreal. yuji 1000% relishes in the beneath the lashes looks the other two send him but he goes horribly pink so it’s a double edged sword
yuji takes them to visit his grandfathers grave eventually but like there’s 1000% no angst, idk if any of yall have read csm but think of it like denji and power with aki just a bit more respectful. nobara is absolutely loosing it about going out to the countryside again even tho sendai is a pretty sizeable city; megumi feels kinda bad about the whole circumstances surrounding grandpa itadori’s death and so tries his best to be comforting and supportive only to bicker with nobara insistently by accident. yuji doesn’t mind tho, he didn’t want it to be a sombre event or anything and is pretty upbeat about, he probably makes a joke about how his grandpa didn’t expect him to gain bout a girlfriend AND boyfriend and how he was living double the high school experience. nobara and megumi probbaly promise to take care of yuji when in reality 80% time yuji is taking care of them and because they’re absurdly terrible at it
nobara and yuji definitely bond over self care stuff like face masks, nails, expensive bath stuff. megumi is rather impartial to it until they show him the wonders of self care tm. honestly he still wouldn’t go out of his way to do all the stuff they do without them but he can definitely appreciate how good nobara and yuji look in those animal print sheetmasks or the smell of yuji’s grapefruit conditioner and nobara’s rose water toner or whatever idk i’m bad at self care tooo sjsjsjjdjr
escape bunny shenanigans,,,,, megumi tries so hard to make the distinction that his shinigami are not pets and nobara and yuji do not listen they’ll be like megumi,,, bunny,,, and suddenly the room is full of bunnies who are just waiting for good pets and grapes or whatever fruit they’ve bought in surplus to feed the bunnies. the remaining divine dog definitely lives on the end of whoever’s bed they’re sleeping in that week, if gojo asks they’ll be like megumi is training his stamina and how much time he can keep his shingami around when in reality nobara has bought dog costumes and toys and yuji has like 9 different gourmet dog food recipes open on his phone
i think living together, even before swinging their relationships, comes with a certain number of boundaries they just kinda fall away and so eating off each other’s plates, drinking from the same bottle etc etc comes about pretty fast like megumi doesn’t like peppers cool nobara and yuji will happily eat them off his plate; oh there’s only one ramune left cool let’s split the bottle three ways you know what i’m saying? nobara is probably the first one to hit the clothing and skinship boundaries because she gives zero fucks like she’s walking around in her towel cuz she left her sheet mask in the fridge to get chilly and soothing and whatever and yuji sees her while doing dinner prep and she’s like what you never see a titty before? and he laughs so hard they just kinda forget about it. it’s super hot in summer and megumi is literally dying in just his shorts by the open door and nobara sees his stomach and is like is this a weather appropriate place to lay? and proceeds to belly flop ontology of him anyway. yuji and megumi deinftely have one of those hey, stop screaming it’s me moments in the shower. the boundaries blur and disappear and anything that needs to en addressed is and that’s that...
clearly... i have gotten carried away but yeah,,, them 🥰
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rataltouille · 3 years
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GEOMETRY OF THE HOLY MOON (1 AM): A SHORT STORY
GENRE: surrealism, literary fiction.
POV & TENSE: this little space is not enough for how wild the form is so i talk about this later!!
SETTING: a small desi village, 1924-25.
TONE: dreamy, unsettling, melancholic.
THEMES: faith vs reality, how people perceive others and how they perceive themselves, grief dealt the wrong way.
AESTHETICS: the splash of water on a quiet night, thick clouds obscuring the sky, rippling the moon’s reflection on the water. the intensity of a garden in spring, the emptiness of a dying town, the suffocation from being singled out. hands grazing lightly but never fully held. a lingering sadness behind your laugh. believing in things you shouldn't believe in. putting faith on a starless sky.
STAGE: completed first draft, 4085 words.
LOGLINE: a young boy, surrounded by loss, claims to talk to god. the story follows him and his conversations with this god, all while his village spies on him as he weaves his way around the two most crucial and lonely years of his life.
LITERAL LOGLINE: on today’s news let’s talk about a small backward town that hates sad little boys who worship god, even though the place is lowkey a cult!!
CHARACTERS:
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THE SUMMER BOY: he’s around thirteen, and he’s very emotionally attached to his past. he lost his family at a young age to an unstable force, so he spends his time talking to himself. he’s a quiet, demure and sweet person, always willing to help others. he’s outwardly oblivious and sees only the good in people to a point where he doesn't understand when they’re trying to do him wrong. but! considering how the story [like a lot of my others] has themes of perception vs reality, it needs to be said that he isn't all that innocent. he’s rather impulsive and rash, never afraid of hurting himself [and thus accidentally harming others].
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A GOD: is he real? do we even know if he’s an actual god? a very elusive figure despite having a lot of screentime. he’s a surprisingly humanised character and arguably the one with the most empathy. he has a soft spot for the boy and the two have a deep bond which is not common for a human and a god to have. you don’t get insight to what the other gods are like, but they’re implied to exist. this story has a very messy and hazy view towards religion and godhood and their nature towards humanity, and this vague figure, a dreamlike character, is proof enough of that.
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THE VILLAGE: okay so in general these people suck. the village consists of, well, the village, but they’re very fluid in the way they appear in the story? as in for the most part they appear as a collective, a unit. one character, the summer boy’s “friend”, is somewhat separate considering he’s a pretty important character. it’s very hard describing this unit of a character but essentially they’re the main antagonistic force and they hate the protagonist for seemingly no reason.
WHAT GOES DOWN:
sometime around this time, the boy chances upon meeting his “god”, this being who lives up in the clouds and whom he talks with often, except you don't know if this god is real or not. that’s one of the recurring themes of this story: what’s real and what isn’t. it’s :) a fun time :) for sure :)
essentially Things Happen And It Only Gets Weirder. i cannot even try describing what happens because it’s all very spoilery but let’s just say that this is a very sad story but not even in a “this makes me cry” manner, but rather in a “this is so fucked up wtf why”. the prose of this is very, very hazy and thick, in a manner that’s both smooth and suffocating. there’s also a lot of moon and water imagery which we love. i love the atmosphere + the setting—colonial india— as it’s a subtle but key element to the plot.
FORM:
OKAY YES be prepared for the true colours of how unhinged i am. i apologize for the form brainrot.
POV: so in this story i really said “what if it had all three of the main povs... jk jk... unless 😳😳” and then proceeded to use all three povs. you’re probably wondering, how did i do that? WHY did i do that? and my answer to that is: 🙂
the first-person pov: the summer boy narrates in first person. his pov takes up about 40% of the story, and this is where we unlock family backstory + how he feels about the various forces playing into his life. he’s an extremely unreliable narrator and he knows it; his narration oscillates between very naive and very self-aware, and this effect is pretty disconcerting. the summer boy is kind of a walking contradiction and we love that conflict.
the second-person pov: a god narrates in second person. his pov takes around 20% of the story, and his scenes all involve his conversations with the boy. his pov is extremely detached, and suspends belief because he seems awfully made up. there’s an edge to the prose in his narration, where you know that something's off, but you can’t exactly pinpoint what.
the third-person pov: the villagers narrate, either as a collective, or as an individual figure, in third person. they take up the other 40% of the story, and there are so many different people and differing opinions with this, and every time we read a third person excerpt it’s a different person, and this is mostly used to add onto the different ways in which the boy is perceived. this is also where the structural part of the form gets really wacky.
STRUCTURE: if my story isn't told in vignettes is it my story though /j. gothm is told in vignettes, each one between 50 to 500 words. the first and second person bits are normal-ish vignettes, with straightforward narration. the third person vignettes, on the other hand, are super assorted. we have a lot of epistolaric sections— there’s a letter, a folk song [which was found around the summer boy], and most of the conversation is told as just plain dialogue without tags. there’s also a phone call transcript, and finally some normal chunks of prose. what am i doing wtf.
also to add onto this the story is told non-linearly. 😀 the only thing that keeps me from going insane is the fact that there are chronological tags before most vignettes [also the manner in which they're tagged differs from pov to pov. for example a few of the third person conversations are marked just as “sunday” or “thursday”, while the summer boy’s narration is marked with the full date and year]
in all this clownery i completely forgot to mention what the tense was [the way everything else was so complicated that i forgot tense was a thing lmao] and good news!! it’s the only sane thing about this story!! it’s told fully in present tense. thank everything.
AN EXCERPT:
okay i’m once again not sharing much because this will be submitted to litmags 🧞
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[The boy is scrawny as always. He carries an air of diswant— even death had rejected him when the plague killed only his grandmother— but walks like he doesn’t notice. He smiles at them, jitters, and wipes his hand across his knees. Blood comes away in thin, translucent lines. He saves it on the kerchief he keeps tucked in his shirt, careful to dirty the cloth even more. The villagers scrunch their noses in disgust; who knew how old and rotten the kerchief was, or how long it had carried blood like the unwashed sword of a warrior?]
also by the way this excerpt is in square brackets because it is a third-person interjection in a vignette that is otherwise first-person [at this point...]
SPARE THOUGHTS:
this was inspired by a conversation i had with my grandfather, where he was telling me about how people used to sing songs to the skies, as a way of devotion to a specific god. he used the [loose translation of] the english word “yearning” to refer to the emotion the singers would invoke, and that sparked the concept of a disillusioned young boy who talks to the moon as a way to please the god he’s in love with. it’s a very softly disconcerting story and once again deals with the theme of “perception vs reality” which if you know me and my work, is the theme i’m forever obsessed with.
i really like how this turned out? the atmosphere is exactly how i wanted it to be, and there’s so much i have to add on as i edit and i’m really looking forward to that. this is also the only short story i’ve written where i knew which litmag i’d love for it to be published in? like i never write things with publishing in mind, but for some reason while writing this story it occurred to me that it would be a perfect fit for this specific magazine and i love that. anyway if you’ve made it through the post till here,,,, bless you and your braincells. and that’s all for today!!
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mittensmorgul · 3 years
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Look I get what your saying about the shooting script and this earlier version of 12.23 script. I get it. But there have been instances over the years where jensen and jared and misha have stated at cons changing a couple of small things during filming because it didn't feel right. Certain lines. Some adlibbing. I mean didn't jensen and jared flip an entire sam and dean dialogue and they let them. So yeah Dean going after Cas probably is in a later script but it could also be something that they didn't feel right about and slightly modified.
*rubs temples and tries to remain calm*
I really, really need people to understand here. I get that folks are enjoying the fun of finding all the changes in this script and it's interesting to think that the changes are all acting choices, but I really, truly need people to understand that there were MAJOR REVISIONS to this script before shooting.
MAJOR REVISIONS.
Like... an entire subplot was cut. An entire character arc (from our first meeting of her to her death at Lucifer's hand) was cut. And the content of those cut scenes was reworked into the SHOOTING DRAFT in other ways.
Lucifer had a much larger role in the version of the script we bought at auction. There was an entire new angel character introduced in it. There was a big showdown at the Heaven Portal and another on the road to the beach house. I cannot begin to explain just how much of this script was changed before shooting started. And that THIS WAS NOT THE SCRIPT USED ON DAY OF SHOOTING.
Like, seriously cannot emphasize that enough.
And just because J2 have told us stories about a few scenes they chose to change, some adlibs they made on set that made it into the final edit, they do not and never have had the power to make ~this sort of change~ to the script.
(outside of maybe 15.23 where they basically rewrote that entire barn scene, and just... wtf...)
The "swapped lines" thing from 9.04 annoyed Robbie Thompson enough that he wrote another scene in 11.04 that would put similar words in Dean's mouth where they belonged, in a way that Jared and Jensen could not fuck them up like they did in 9.04 lol. I scream inside my heart every time they brag about how they "know their characters better than the writers" using that scene as an example. Because they done fucked that one up big time... (for reference, see the numerous posts I've already made over the years about that scene and exactly why they fucked it up... they effectively took what was supposed to be a parallel between Dean and Charlie over Dean's specific brand of queer nerdiness and turned it into a lol dean's the dumb one joke, and... no no no)
So... yes, while there have been instances of them changing a few lines here and there on day of shooting, this entire script was heavily revised between the draft we bought and the draft that was actually filmed.
I'm not ruling out the possibility that Jensen ad libbed yelling Cas, but THAT ENTIRE SCENE IS DIFFERENT IN THIS DRAFT, NOT JUST THAT ONE LINE. Like the entire SETUP of the scene is entirely different.
Before people just blindly assume that Jensen took this script and chose to make changes that big to it on shooting day, I REALLY need people to remember that THIS IS NOT THE SCRIPT THEY USED FOR SHOOTING.
And yes, I DO UNDERSTAND THE FUN OF CREDITING JENSEN FOR ALL OF THIS FROM THE [GUNSHOTS] CROWD, BUT THOSE FUN LIL HEADCANONS ARE NOT BASED IN REALITY, AND I FEEL LIKE A LARGE PORTION OF THE FANDOM BELIEVES THEY ARE.
It's fun to have fun with these scripts, but as we acquire more of them, I feel the need to at least put out the disclaimer that it's fine to imagine HOW any changes came about between the scripts and what actually aired, but 99% OF THE TIME, THE CHANGES WERE DUE TO SCRIPT REVISIONS BEFORE SHOOTING, AND NOT ACTING CHOICES OR AD LIBS ON SET.
I'm just supremely exhausted by the conspiracy theories that grow out of this sort of misinformation circulating as a legitimate truth about how any of this works. So anon, I also get what you're saying, but I'm doing the internet version of gently holding all y'all's faces and looking directly into your eyes and telling y'all that that isn't how any of this works, and begging y'all to please engage with reality as we're presenting it to you. Please continue to have fun with this information, absolutely.
But I've seen multiple posts with WELL over 1k notes this morning crediting ALL the script changes to "Jacting Joices" and ignoring the fact that the entire script had been rewritten before shooting began. While reality-based posts explaining the actual production process have like 12 notes and get largely ignored by pretty much everyone. I get that reality is less fun sometimes, but it's at least reality.
Heck, from what I can tell, very few people reblogging this content have actually ~read~ the entire script, and I get specifically wanting to focus on the Destiel scenes, because DUH, but like... if we're gonna claim that this was The Script on day of shooting and everything we love about it was ad libbed by Jensen, that just makes us all look like fools, okay? okay.
I'm begging y'all, if you're gonna attempt to put forth a theory, at least read the source material first and have even a modicum of understanding about how this whole process works. The links to the full scripts are in this post: https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/653846516279197696/happy-saturday-look-what-our-bidder
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That Damn Sex Pollen - Part 2
Pairing : Steve x Reader / Bucky x Reader
Words: 1800+
Warnings: Mild smut / swearing... nothing too bad!
A/N: Found part 2 in my drafts so here it is! There will be a final part to follow.
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It had been just over 2 weeks since the Sex Pollen incident with Bucky, the incident that led to us having mind blowing sex and confessing to feelings we'd been hiding for a while. This wouldn't have been a problem if i wasn't already engaged to his best friend Steve Rogers!! Aka Captain America!!
Now don't get me wrong i love Steve, i love Steve more than I've ever loved anyone.... but i cant deny that i don't love Bucky as well! Since the moment Steve introduced me to his long lost best friend there was something between us, we had never admitted to our feelings or acted on them in anyway we kept it to ourselves. I had decided to push my feelings for Bucky aside and give Steve my everything.....That was until that damn sex pollen!!
Bucky volunteered to go on a mission with Sam and Nat the day after we got back to the compound and had been avoiding me ever since they got back a week ago, he would even leave the room as soon as i walked in!
Steve was currently in a meeting with Tony so i headed down to the gym hoping id see Bucky and we could talk about what happened and try and clear the air, if he kept avoiding me the way he was then Steve would get suspicious!
I walked into the gym and saw Bucky lifting weights  in the corner, i also saw the second he noticed me enter the room!! The weights were dropped and he started grabbing his things to leave.
"Bucky will you stop!" I said rushing over to him "you cant keep running away from me!"
"I just think its best to put some distance between us Y/N" he mumbled still avoiding eye contact.
"So you don't think we should talk about what happened in that warehouse?"
"No. No i don't! I think we need to forget all about that!"
"Fine! It never happened! But you need to get your shit together Buck! If you keep leaving every room i walk into Steve will know somethings wrong! You and me always got along before.... you were always hanging out with us and now? This is the first time I've spoken to you in 2 weeks!"
"I cant sit around and watch you and Steve together okay! It hurts too much.... I'm trying doll, i really am. I just need some time and space"
"Buck...."
"Don't" he said simply shaking his head keeping his distance from me.
"Okay..... i miss you" i told him truthfully as i backed away towards the door, Bucky gave me the smallest smile and nodded in agreement.
I was sitting on the sofa watching a movie when Steve walked in a couple hours later.
"Hey sweetheart" he smiled leaning over the arm of the sofa and pressing his lips to mine.
"Hey babe, how'd your meeting go?" I asked grabbing his hand and pulling him down on the sofa with me. He chuckled but quickly settled down and pulled me into his arms.
"It was okay, just going over some details of tomorrows mission"
"Who's going?"
"Me, Buck, Wanda and Vision"
"I get the day off! Woo hoo" i joked as my hand moved under the hem of Steve's tshirt, my fingers stroking over the smooth patch of skin under his belly button.
"You fancy going for a run with me?" He asked as i felt his fingers stroke the back of my neck.
"Not at all" i laughed "i just wanna stay here with you and watch a movie"
"You keep that up we're gonna be doing more than watching a movie" he mumbled looking down at where my hand was still stroking.
"Oh really?.... you like this huh?"
"Y/N...." Steve said before shaking his head chuckling.
"What?..... i like your happy trail"
"You do?"
"Mmhmmm...." my hand slowly stroked over the area again before slipping into the band of his sweat pants and finding his already hard cock "you do like that!" I teased as my hand wrapped around him and slowly started stroking.
"Jesus..... baby that feels amazing" he said as his head fell back against the sofa.
"See, isnt this better than going for a run?"
"Im not gonna argue with that!" He laughed before pulling me closer and kissing me hard. I quickly found myself straddling Steve, dry humping the huge bulge in his trousers as we made out like teenagers. I pulled his t-shirt off and trailed kisses up his chest to his neck... biting at that area where his neck and shoulder joined. Steve had one hand under my shirt fondling a breast whilst the other gripped my hip and rocked me against his hard cock.
"I need to be inside you" he mumbled in my ear before nipping at my earlobe.
"Please Steve...." i begged reaching into his sweat pants to free his cock.
There was a quick knock at the front door to our apartment before it opened
"Hey Steve, you ready...." Bucky was saying as he walked through the door.
"Oh shit!.... im sorry!" He said quickly turning to leave.
"Fuck!....Sorry pal i completely forgot, i got a little distracted" Steve chuckled "can we finish this later?" He said quietly to me and i nodded before climbing off his lap and heading to the bedroom.
"Its fine, we can go tomorrow" Bucky shrugged looking very uncomfortable.
"No lets go" Steve said standing up and grabbing his shirt from the floor.
"You might want to change your pants...." i heard Bucky say and turned to see him scratching his head awkwardly. Steve looked down to see the wet patch from where we had been grinding against each other moments before and blushed "oh shit, guess you're right. Give me 5".
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After finishing a training session with Nat i headed back to mine and Steve's room for a shower. When i walked in i was surprised to see Steve's go bag next to the door, the shower running.... they got back early from that mission.
"Steve?" I called out as i made my way to the bathroom.
"Hey sweetheart" i heard him call over the running water.
"You're back early, did something go wrong or...."
"It went fine, easy mission"
"Thats good. You mind if i join you? I just got done training with Nat I'm a mess" i said stripping out of my sweaty work out clothes and tossing them in the dirty wash basket.
"Its all yours" he said stepping out and grabbing his towel "I've got to go to a debrief with Tony real quick but I'm all yours after. We have some catching up to do"
"Mmm i look forward to it" i smiled reaching up to give him a much needed kiss, i had missed him so much while he was gone. Before getting into the shower  I placed a pair of sleep shorts and a cami on the closed lid of the toilet ready to put on once i was done.
Steve went to get dressed while i showered, i was rinsing out my shampoo when he stuck his head in letting me know he was leaving for his debrief.
"Be back soon, love you" he said before rushing off.
When i was finished i stepped out the shower reaching for my towel to find it was gone!
"Are you fucking kidding me!" I moaned under my breath, the clothes i had set out were also missing! WTF!!
Oh well it wasnt like i couldnt walk around naked, id just have to make a dash for another towel!
I threw open the bathroom door and was just walking to the bedroom when the front door opened.
"Steve you ass! You took my towel and my clothes??"
"Ermmm...i..."
My head whipped round at the sound of Bucky's voice!!
"Bucky!? Shit! God I'm so sorry i thought you were Steve!" I quickly tried to cover myself as i rushed into my room and grabbed my robe, once it was secured i went back to see why Bucky was here.
"What are you doing here?"
"Steve asked me to cone grab a file he forgot..."
"He did? When?"
"Called me just now as i was heading down to the debrief"
"Why would he tell you to come in here.... he knew i was showering and he'd taken my clothes...."
"I have no idea, can i just grab that file and i'll be on my way..."
"Sure".
I sat down on the sofa rubbing my wet hair with a towel while Bucky disappeared into Steve's office for what he needed.
"Hey doll?...." he called from the office.
I smiled at the familiar nickname i hadn't heard in weeks.
"Yeah Buck?"
"There's no files in here"
"You're sure?..."
"Yeah, where else would he keep them?"
"Thats where it would be"
"There's no file in there" i heard Steve's voice and turned to see him leaning against the front door smirking.
"Steve.... what the fuck?"
"Im sick of this tension between the two of you, i miss us all hanging out together"
"So you take my clothes and send your pal here for a non existent file in hope's he catches me naked??! Are you mad?" I shouted shaking my head at him.
"You set us up?" Bucky asked appearing in the hallway.
"Guilty" Steve shrugged "enjoy the show Buck?"
"I don't get it.... why....?"
"Because I'm sick of you both pretending theres no feelings between you"
"He's lost his damn mind" i got up to walk away but Steve grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me close.
"I know what happened in that warehouse between the two of you"
My eyes went wide as i looked over at Bucky, he looked just as shocked so i knew he hadn't told him.
"Bucky didn't say a word sweetheart i saw the CCTV..... audio included" he smirked.
"Steve.... it wasn't like we had much choice that plant...."
"Oh i know baby, i know exactly what that plant was"
"You've known all this time and said nothing?"
"It was you, you put it there didn't you?" Bucky accused Steve "why the fuck would you do that Steve!?"
"I had to do something! The two of you are so loyal you never would've hurt me and acted on your feelings.... not without a little push".
Before i knew what i was doing my hand connected with Steve's cheek.
"You had no right!"
"Tell me you don't want him" Steve pointed at his best friend.
"No"
"See...." Steve smirked looking smug.
"Right now you're the one i don't want!" I said through gritted teeth and stormed into the bedroom slamming the door behind me and flipping the lock for effect, i knew it wouldn't keep Steve out but it made me feel better.
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Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes @bellamy-barnes @buchanansebba @rosalynshields @turtoix @dottirose
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dotthings · 3 years
Text
So in the latinx Spanish dub of 15.18 that aired on Warner tv, Dean says “yo a ti, Cas” and bear in mind that this would air under the arm of Warner Brothers television “WARNER BROS. INTERNATIONAL TELEVISION DISTRIBUTION” so this narrows things down a little to CW not WB as the actual stifler at play. What exactly happened, what filmed, what wasn’t, I’m not taking a stand on that (and I have more complicated thoughts below the cut), but I have been saying right along that if Destiel wasn’t allowed to go explicitly canon, that would be network, not the writers. The writers were for Destiel. They were all along. 
This is what some of us have been trying to tell you. When we pointed it out, other Destiel shippers told us we were delusional. Or people tried to say there was no intention on Destiel. They yelled that the writers queer bait instead of understanding it was plausible that queer writers and allies might deliberately craft a queer love story designed to fly under radar of network restriction. The network is the problem, not the writer intent and good faith. I hope people get this now. I’m enjoying the vindication. It’s also funny watching some people who were part of the shaming and the bullying, or who called us names, now pretend like they knew it all along, when they went after the very writers attempting to tell this love story and they went after the meta writers who picked up on what the writers room was trying to do. They do owe apologies and I doubt they will come.
Anyway, In the Spanish dub of the show, Destiel isn’t just canon it’s megacanon. It’s explicitly reciprocated. Not that I didn’t know, I have been saying and saying Dean already showed how he feels back but he didn’t speak his heart explicitly on this. The dub not only makes Destiel mutually canonical love story, it makes Dean’s story better and it makes Cas’s story better individually too. Dean got to speak his heart at least. And Cas got to hear that he is loved at least.
More thoughts on the network/covid regulations/script revisions/showrunner debacles behind the cut.
We needed an overseas dub to do a partial rescue on the story, but it’s not a full rescue. Still doesn’t fix the sheer WTF of the series finale. I’m blaming a a perfect storm of factors and I don’t think it’s as simple as some are making it out to be in throwing blame, from different camps of opinions. 
It was network being unwilling to back Destiel when the writers wanted it, but many of us figured that out already.  
Then covid regulations tabling the original more found family inclusive plans, but that version sounds really weird (Jimmy Novak?? Kansas Band is dead and in heaven? ONE SCENE for found family? ONE SCENE?? WTF?????) but there could have been a plan before that original draft and the network kept sticking its finger in the pie. I can believe the creative team wanted was full explicit destiel and Dean and Cas reunion. So then this change then got changed into a (3rd?) revision due to covid regulations. Then we get to all the objectively stupid shit in the series finale that could have been fixed easily even under the covid regulations. It’s caving my brain in.
It’s a showrunner’s job to adapt to external factors, think outside the box, and create a strong product despite circumstances. For context, every showrunner of The 15 Year Show has ticked me off at one point or another. I don’t praise the show for brownie points, I just speak from the heart, and when it’s time to be critical I don’t go down an abyss tunnel of anti-ness and hate fixation, but I equally will speak my mind. I’ve had more than one show stumble last minute because of showrunner vision so it’s not hard for me to include Dabb in the perfect storm of stuff that went wrong. It didn’t have to fail Dean’s story, Sam’s story, Cas’s story this severely. Dialogue could have been added. Different photos on the mantlepiece. ADR. Dabb even contradicted things he himself wrote in the past, about Dean in particular. It is baffling AF.
The work up to that point was strong enough I was able to simply choose to ignore from my personal sense of canon rather than give myself a headache trying to massage it into something that fit themetically or emotionally or plot-wise. I’ve already aired my specific points of criticism in other posts.
And Anyway, Sam and Dean wouldn’t have even gotten to the end without their family, and those they love, and that’s the tea.
But I am not confused about the writing team as a whole and I am still grateful to “the writers.” Their stories, their scripts, the things they fought for, Bobo’s work especially, was harmed by the perfect storm, and one of the chief villains here is a tv network, and I hope people understand that, no matter what the details turn out to be on what happened, that this is a very real thing that happens frequently and that Destiel has been purposefully crafted because the writers wanted to do it, they believed in it. They were not mocking shippers. They believed in the story and tried to tell it within the walls hemming it in.
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antigoneidk · 4 years
Note
Tom hasn’t had sex in ages (maybe bc of work or something) and he does it w// you somewhere semi-public Bonus points if you get caught bc Tom can’t stop moaning 😏😳
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Be quiet|t.h.
a/n: thank you so much for your request❣I was looking for it a while now and I couldn't find it. please if anyone knows why let me know cause it fucking happens with my drafts too like wtf i don't know what to do.
warnings: smut(I'm so sorry),language
_
"Right now?"you asked surprised at his behavior.
"You have no idea how much I need you right now" his touch on your inner thigh was burning your skin there."I've been away too long without you. I'm needy y/n" he pressed his fingers on your area, on top of your leggings, already feeling wet down there. Your heart beat started increasing as you wanted him as bad as he did. He was away for over than 3 months filming and it would be a lie that from the second you picked him up from the airport you did not thought of it too.
You pulled the car to the side,a park that seemed empty from where you were.
He picked you up forcing you to sit on his lap. Your hands got to his hair giving him a quick massage to relax him even more. He titled his head backwards, his eyes were shut, his lips apart looking like a hot mess. Your lips approached his neck, giving small kisses all over it. As you found his sweet spot, you started sucking there just for a hickey to slightly show up. His moans made you even wetter and needy to fell him inside you.
His hands got to your ass, squeezing it and pressing your body closer to him. Tom moaned your name louder this time and you gazed over him.
"Baby be quiet"you whispered as your hands fell slowly from his curls, to his neck and then to his chest. You wanted to touch every single inch of him. You moved your hands under his shirt, scratching his abs that you missed badly. He grabbed you face and connected your lips, his kiss full of lust and hunger. He missed your body, your smell, your touch, your kisses, your voice. Facetime and messages were nothing for him.
You lowered your hands, his member already hard. He continued to let his moans fly through the air, your pussy soaking at that moment.
Tom slid one finger inside you without warnings. Your legs began shaking more and more with the way he played with your clit. You held down to your lungs all the screams you needed to yell, unlikely Tom.
You unzipped his pants and dragged them down as well as his underwear and your leggings too. None of you was in the mood for teasing or hold it any longer.
"I fucking missed you"he whispered and you felt the whole world spinning as he got inside you.
"I missed you too my love" you managed to say from the pleasure your whole spirit felt. You moved up and down slowly at first, realizing how much you needed him this whole time. He found your sweet spot making you scream his name with no strength. Your walls around him drove him insane.
"I love you baby-fuck"his voice sounded like music to your ears. His breath burned your skin to your neck as you started to move faster and he got weaker than ever, that he couldn't control himself.
"Shh"you shut his mouth with your hand not long enough though. It was easy for him to hit your spot again, screaming his name for the first time like this.
Sweat was dropping from his face making him look even hotter. He opened his eyes to meet yours. He smiled and you leaned to kiss his soft lips that you had been dreaming about. His right hand got in the back of your neck, giving you goosebumps.
"Holy shit y/n"he dropped his head back and let out a moan. At this point you didn't have power to stop him and on the other hand you enjoyed watch him being a mess for you and only you.
"I'm close"you placed your hand on his neck, breathing heavier and holding on to his shoulders. Nothing felt more magical than this moment, him yelling your name in a soft and hot way he could only do and you travelling in places you never had to before.
A knock on the passenger's door had the both of you scream from fear. You stopped and looked closer. You saw a man standing with his arms crossed to his chest.
"Yes?"you asked embarrassed.
"Hi. Can you please shut the fuck up? Literally I came here with my girlfriend okay? My girlfriend for a romantic date and the two of you came here and ruined completely. You don't have a house for this? I seriously have no words. None"his hands were moving up and down the air, his expressions angry from the disaster the two of you made.
"I'm really sorry"you apologised and looked at Tom with guilt.
"Just guys stop"the man left you walking back and sat down next to a tree and a blonde girl that smiled at him.
"I thought that the park was empty. And I told you to be quiet Tom" you let out a breath and looked at your boyfriend with sad eyes and feeling guilty that you ruined a couple's date.
"I don't care about the rest of them y/n. I love you and I missed you. Is it that bad?"he grabbed you cheeks and connected his lips to yours.
No it wasn't that bad.
_____
sorry for any mistakes hihi:)
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dallonm-archive · 4 years
Text
So I Turned Church Mud Into A Novel Lol Oops | NaNoWriMo 2020
Folks the JOURNEY I have been on in the last 3 days. I’ve been on a great albeit chaotic Church Mud high and it led to? This? 
For those who don’t know, Church Mud is meant to be a ~7k words short story for my writing dissertation (and it still is). I attempted to do Draft Zero over summer, completely missed the mark, pretended it didnt exist for a month and here we are. One thing I learnt from that attempt though was that there is a much wider story to be told than what we’d see in those 7k words. Back then I was content with it only existing as a short story, not having all the parts told, because I liked the idea of Felix and Dorothy existing in this small window with a happy ending that’d otherwise be temporary. But I cannot help myself :)  I met my advisor on Wednesday and reaffirmed that I’m at a really good place with this story in terms of ideas, themes and character - what’s missing was just the plot. So that’s what I’ve been working on (and killing my sleep schedule over) since, and what happened was:  I realise most of my ideas wouldn’t fit the short story --> But they’d work in a novel --> So I guess I’m writing Church Mud as a novel after I graduate? --> But I kinda wanna write it now --> But I can’t --> But I want to --> Chloe your dissertation --> Hey you want more novel content? Here’s chapter titles --> God I Can’t Wait To Write This As A Novel --> Hey that thing where you write a novel in a month is happening soon...could be a...perfect excuse to...….,,,
So I had a ~revelation~ at 4am: why can’t I write it now? NaNoWriMo coincides with when I’m meant to brainstorm this story, so why don’t I take what I have and pants it as a novel, intentionally #LoseNano2020 and use what I wrote to infer what the short story will look like whilst also have a Draft Zero to work with/finish/rewrite next year? I debated if this was a good idea because it felt ~unconventional~ but I realised that a) I want to write this as a novel anyway and b) this is where I’m loving the project and that’s what matters and c) makes it feel less like uni work lol  I’ve spent the all day playing around with what Church Mud The Novel would look like, and not only am I o b s s e s s e d but it also taught me? so much? about the short story? I was worried it’d get complicated but from the vague plot idea I have, I have a clear vision of Church Mud The Short Story separate from the novel, but I also see how it would fit into the novel as a chapter, and seeing where it’d fit in has really helped me figure out where it sits in the twins’ lives and so many elements I hadn’t considered before. I believe very strongly in Writers Intuition and my intuition is telling me that this is the direction I need to go with this project. My only issue is Church Mud doesn’t fit as a title for the novel at all and was never going to be the title, but I really don’t care oop, I’m not titling it until next year unless I come up with a title so good I want to change the short story as well lmao. But other than that this is working so well for me and really catalysed the momentum I already had atm for this story. I’ve also wanted to rework how I share Church Mud things here and this is a perfect way to at least for the next month, but before I ramble more lets actually talk about where the story is!
CHURCH MUD
Genre: literary fiction Setting: California (+ probably some other states? Idk I’m not American wtf is a state), 1986 POV: third person present + retrospective moments, split between twins Felix and Dorothy The Vibes: hazy summers, hot air, 3am, saltwater breeze, grainy photographs, empty roads at night, the moon blurred by clouds, arms resting out car windows, abandoned churches, telephone boxes, getting lost on purpose, cigarette smoke, dust from an old Bible Deals with: faith & the weaponization of it to control others, identity, perceptions of reality, chosen family, independence v co-dependence, free will, trauma & what it means to “let go”
CONTENT WARNINGS: religion/religious imagery (specifically Christianity), trauma, toxic relationships, inferred addiction (all updates will be tagged with these/any more specific warnings) 
This is still in very early conception, in the sense of it’s existence as a novel, but it’s definitely an expansion on the ideas I had for the short story, where these two seek to let go of their past together so they can live their own, new lives, and also restore their tangled relationship that could never be fixed through letters and distant contact.  When Dorothy left the controlling religious cult she grew up in, she never gave herself a chance to properly process the complicated emotions that came with that decision, or the trauma she went through, opting to cope with it by putting all her energy into building her new life and embracing her identity. Watching her brother navigate the same new, confusing path she took four years ago forces her to look back on her own experience, and the repressed memories of events that prompted her to leave in the first place. When Felix catches up with her, he struggles with the realisation that adjusting to this new life and world won’t be easy, and whilst it was the right choice, his impulsive decision has ramifications. Trauma does not necessarily stay in the place you associate it with and for Felix, it’s like seeing all of it from a birds eye view, all at once, including everything he blocked out. With his faith, his sister, and his drive to be a good person, he has hope for himself and the world, but the pain and anger he harbours will not make it easy for him. ^by no means a pitch literally just the copy paste of the quick summary I wrote for myself lmao
The most exciting part of this to me is how different, yet similar the novel feels. This version of the story isn’t necessarily happier, it’s still rough around the edges, but it’s definitely from a different mindset and there’s this haziness to it that doesn’t exist in the short story. It feels like a grainy home video that they’d never let see the light of day. I wouldn’t call it dreamlike or softer because of this, but there is this distinct tonal shift from the short story to the novel that I can only describe through the aforementioned Vibes. As I said, I have an idea of where the short story would fit into the novel’s timeline as a chapter, but they still won’t be the same. The short story is obviously more restricted to one singular event, and that turns the intensity and tension up high. This difference is also 100% influenced by the fact that the short story is set only at night (bar for some potential flashbacks), and the night plays a huge thematic and atmospheric role. Of course parts of the novel will take place at night, but the presence of daytime changes the mindset to me? In the short story it feels like they’re stuck in this perpetuate-esque night, whereas in the novel you know that the sun will always rise.
This story is also very different aesthetically, but at the same time elements of the short story’s aesthetic come into play and clash with the unique aesthetic of the novel, where they coexist, but are also in conflict with each other. As you can tell from these two moodboards where you can really see how for the second I gave up trying to make it coherent lmao: 
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To me there are two distinct aesthetics, and they are both very different and exist in different ways, but they are both inherently part of the story, and it feeds into this idea of perception of reality and these two realities that the twins perceive: the “outside world” and the gated world they grew up in.
The stars of the show, my favourite disaster twins:
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Not fragile, but not made of stone either
Loves very hard, sometimes more than she’d like 
A protective and loyal soul, especially with those she loves, but she never wants to forget to protect herself 
If I’m in love with my best (female) friend, no I’m not <3
-goes to the edge of the pier and stares wistfully at the ocean so everyone knows that I am the main character- 
Loves her brother more than anyone else but is struggling to figure out his new role in her life. As teenagers she felt painfully tethered to him because they were always The Twins, and she had nobody else, as adults she hopes to find a balance between their deeply close bond and their harshly different lives 
Arc driven by defining your identity and then redefining it, and facing the parts of it you’d rather lock far away. Also deals with her experience growing up as a girl in a religious cult in the 60s/70s, and the relationship faith has with her feminist identity. 
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As of now, there’s more focus on him in the novel, since the short story focuses on Dorothy and I feel to write him from an observer perspective I need to get into his head first 
Just found out restarting your life completely is hard?
Trying to be a good person, wants to be a good person, but there’s an anger in him that he hates but it’s festering and it’s growing
But ultimately he is a sweet and soft person and that’s what he wants to be in life even though it’s hard, it shows especially with his sister
I think at some point he locks himself in a cabin and? I would too
Centred around perception of trauma and v influenced by my own experiences with that, where you think things will be easier as soon as you leave that situation but really it just makes you look at everything from a distance and be like “what the fuck?? that actually happened??” (which conflicts with the fact that you KNOW you’re in a better place and you would never go back, but it hurts and it’s hard especially understanding the placement of your trauma in this new space) 
I need to give this dude and his sister a happy ending for my own wellbeing. I don’t know how that’ll look but these two will get their happy endings. I actually don’t think I’ve loved two characters more and I love all my characters deeply 
And I think that’s all for now! This 100% was not the direction I expected to take but I am so glad I did, and I also love the opportunity to reintroduce this story because good Lord it’s changed so much (and this instance is the most change). I also think this is the perfect Nano scenario for me, as someone who’s never done it before, there’s zero pressure on me to “win” because I don’t expect to even finish this. I’m just going to see where it takes me and see what it’s given me at the end of the month.  I’m also not outlining this at all lmao, one because me and outlines do not get along but also my Preptober is just. the work I have to do for my dissertation anyway, which is reading and gathering a lot of fiction/nonfiction about cults/religion, and all the weird and unhinged takes on it. It’s very slow but it’s also fun! My uni work this weekend is literally to read The Girls by Emma Cline so I think I won here?? I also want to dedicate the rest of October to the short stories I planned to write for Nano (I was going to work on my collection).
I don’t know if I’ll do a taglist for this - I have the og Church Mud one but like I said I’m rethinking how I want to share this story and updates for this will only be regular in November so?? But chances are I will be constantly on my bullshit for the next month and a half with this story, pretty update or no pretty update 
My NaNoWriMo page is here, although fair warning I have No idea how this site works, this is my boomer moment. Excited to clown about this story though!
- Chloe 
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xyliane · 4 years
Text
AUgust 7: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS 12 YEAR OLD
PROMPT THE SEVENTH: CHILDHOOD FRIENDS wait how can you childhood friends au killugon, I asked myself, forgetting that I had a whole-ass idea in my drafts already. this one’s a proper fic, too (minus editing cuz l o l it’s an AU writing challenge, not editing challenge). T, aged-up killugon, modern day au. ft ambiguous descriptions of social media, alluka, kalluto, and leorio in killua’s corner, and zushi and spinner in gon’s, brief discussion of getting plastered and dealing with a hangover. 5000 words.
0o0o0o0o0
The first sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Killua wakes up with a hangover.
This does not happen. Killua can count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten so drunk he’s had a hangover, and most of them are the fault of his little siblings. Little siblings who are now living together, whose couch he is currently painfully existing upon, half too hot and his toes way too cold. And the couch is too soft, an old secondhand thing he’d helped Alluka grapple up the stairs months ago after they found it outside an old dorm. He makes a notch in his very sore brain to blame the current situation on them. Kalluto might be kind enough to let a drunk big brother crash with them, but Alluka has a devious streak a mile wide.
Yeah. This is definitely their fault.
One eye slowly creaks open, surveying his surroundings through blurry vision. Nothing out of the ordinary here. He’s in the pajamas he’s left with Alluka forever ago, curled up under an old blanket he gave her for Nanika’s birthday. It’s covered in the Matrix code, all green letters on black wool. It barely covers him from chest to knees, which explains the cold toes.
Sunlight flickers through the curtains, cheerful and bright, and Killua pulls the blanket over his face. He’ll take cold toes over being blinded by his headache.
The second sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when a noise like a chainsaw burrowing through a marshmallow erupts from his phone buzzing on the coffee table, just barely out of reach.
Killua attempts to bury himself under the blanket. He’s not dealing with work today.
And then he remembers: He doesn’t have work. Work can’t bother him today. Not just because it’s a weekend—work never respected the sanctity of weekends, no matter that he was at least partially in charge and used to have a fancy degree hanging on his wall. He doesn’t have work anymore. Killua quit.
Which, well. That explains the hangover.
He’s still blaming his siblings.
His phone buzzes loud enough to break the sound barrier, and Killua decides, fuck it. He doesn’t have anything to lose. If it’s the-place-formerly-known-as-work, he can delete everything. If it’s Mom or Father, he can definitely delete everything. And maybe it’s a friendly person, congratulating him on giving up a job that for anyone else would have been an absolute money-making dream. He’ll delete those too.
It takes a few tries to unlock his phone, and it unfortunately involves opening his eyes, squinting against the glaring light of the screen. But once he does, he frowns. Maybe he’s seeing double. Or a hundredfold. Because he should not have this many notifications.
awwww cute, i hope u 2 find each other! the top one says. It has several hundred likes. Why is it in his notifications?
Scrolling down reveals that it’s not an anomaly.
wtf man how can you find a TWELVE YEAR OLD from FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.
Me and my mom went on a cruise around there once, it was really pretty!
this is so sweet T__T maybe this is him?
And then another hundred photos of brown-skinned men with varying degrees of shirt-wearing, all black haired and most of them buff in very appealing ways and all of them beaming at Killua.
“What the fuck,” Killua croaks as he scrolls through all of the images and messages. Maybe this is a dream. A really weird, hangover-induced dream about how little of a social life he has, that his phone is possessed by someone else’s. A warning of sorts, that he should never have installed any social media on his phone ever, not even for hookups.
The reason for all the notifications lies at the top of his own page. Just a few sentences, all-caps, with an image of an old crinkled photo of two boys on a tropical beach, grinning at the camera. Killua sees himself, white curly hair flying in all directions and pale skin sunburned and ruddy with the briny wind, happier than Killua can ever remember being. Next to him, one arm slung around his shoulders and the other holding a bucket full of seashells, is a brown-skinned boy with freckles dancing across his nose and the tops of his shoulders, brown eyes wide and laughing and black hair thick and spiked from some mix of wind and seawater and natural gravity defiance.
He didn’t know he still had this photo. It had followed him from childhood all the way through grad school, a carefully guarded keepsake hidden away from the watchful eyes of his parents and Illumi, before ending up in a box or a bag at some point in the last few years. Part of Killua thought he’d lost it in the move. He barely remembers much about being twelve, about the cruise he’d been forcibly dragged on. But he remembers…
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? yells the caption. WE WERE BEST FRIENDS FOR A WEEK WHEN I GOT DRAGGED ON A CRUISE BY MY ASSHOLE PARENTS. HE WAS 12 ON WHALE ISLAND 15 YEARS AGO. IF FOUND, DM IMMEDIATELY.
“Gon,” Killua breathes.
He gathers himself, wrapping the blanket around his head in a feeble protection against the morning, and lurches over to Alluka’s room.
He gets to bang on her door three times, confused spite winning out over his own pounding headache, before Kalluto appears out of their room, blinking blearily at Killua. “Shut up.”
Killua kicks Alluka’s door for good measure, and brandishes his phone in front of him like a weapon. “Not until you explain what the hell this is doing on the internet.”
Kalluto pales, then flushes, then pales again. “Oh. Um.”
At that, Alluka creaks her door open, guilty blue eyes far too awake for how close to noon it is. Killua kind of wants to kill her on principle alone. If he has to be hungover, so does everyone else.
“Explain,” he grinds out through his teeth.
The third and final sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Alluka puts on her most winning smile, the kind she uses to ward off angry customers and idiotic faux-academics on the internet. “Congratulations, Brother! I might have made you go viral.”
Killua throws his phone at her.
—————
Today’s going to be a good day, Gon decides. He’s been in the forests of East Gorteau for the better part of a month, which normally isn’t so bad. But this group has been…They’re nice enough, when Gon’s not spending half of his time explaining that, no, that species of plant does not make a good stew, and no, that species is endangered please don’t hunt them, and yes Gon is sure he doesn’t date his clients even after the hike, and no the reason the tent fell over again is because it wasn’t properly set up in the first place—
All of Aunt Mito’s complaints about tourists on Whale Island make so much more sense, now that Gon’s leading backwoods hikes.
But last night had been fun! Spinner had met the group at a pre-set campsite not far from their pickup so Gon hadn’t had to work the whole night, and he could relax with his friend over good food, more alcohol than he probably should have drunk, and not having to explain to Mrs. Yuldvin the difference between marijuana, buckeye, and poison oak again. Spinner had even taken care of the fire, although she had left him to rescue the Podomos siblings from the ruins of their tent with nothing more than a smirk and a wave. Nevertheless, Gon smiled through his headache all morning, because soon he’ll be home, and he can sleep.
Zushi is waiting in the parking lot once Gon’s done packing up the last of the gear and saying goodbye to Spinner, jeep idling while he flicks through his phone, thick eyebrows drawn together in increasing concern. He doesn’t even look up until Gon drops his pack onto the hood of the car, and he jolts so badly in surprise that he tosses his phone in the air.
“Are you okay?” Gon asks, and tries to peek at the screen.
Zushi pulls it up and away, a frantic look in his eyes. It won’t really keep Gon from seeing what’s happening, not if he wants to, but Zushi’s height is enough of a deterrent to make it hard. “You were gone way too long,” he says.
Gon leans against the hot metal of Zushi’s car. It wasn’t an unusual length for a trip, not really—this backcountry needs the length to be able to see and understand the region. Not to mention the Small Billed Swan preservation society keeping the whole place locked down except to authorized guides and trekkers. Zushi knows this. They’ve been roommates long enough that this isn’t even the longest time Gon’s been gone.
“You knew I’d be gone til today,” Gon says.
“Yeah, but…” Zushi’s eyebrows descend even further, scrunching his whole face up in worry. “You haven’t checked your phone, right?”
“No?” Even if he did have cell service, Gon never brings his own phone. He borrows Kite’s satellite phone, because it is more reliable and doesn’t need to be charged constantly.
“Okay. Well.” Zushi takes a deep breath, then another, one of Wing’s old meditation techniques. Despite his exhaustion and single-minded determination to sink into a real bed and sleep for a week, Gon feels a minor pang of worry. On breath three, he unlocks his phone and turns it towards Gon. “You’re a meme.”
On Zushi’s screen is a photo Gon can’t ever forget about. Backed by Whale Island’s sunbleached white beaches and the humid brilliant colors of summer, Gon sees himself—twelve, smiling from ear to ear, hair a mess from swimming and his shirt practically covered in sand from digging up all the seashells in his bucket. He’s got an arm around another boy, who’s caught mid-laugh so his blue eyes burn the same color as the sky, white curls even messier than Gon’s hair. They look like they’ve known each other their whole lives, like they’d still be best friends even if they haven’t seen or spoken to each other since the photo was taken.
Gon hopes Killua thinks so, too.
He cradles the phone in his hand, carefully zooming in on their faces and the errant crinkles visible through the photo. His own faded copy is in a drawer, having survived a whole trip around the world and countless apartment jumps. This one looks just as well cared for, in its own way.
“That…is you, right?” Zushi asks carefully. “Because Wing was asking, and half of Kite’s guide company is yelling about it on your social media page that you don’t even use, and now people are messaging me, and they’re saying the weirdest things, and the post is from last week, so—”
“It’s Killua,” Gon says. A smile spreads across his face, a mirror to the one he’d had when he was twelve. “That’s Killua!”
“Who?” the others ask, but Gon isn’t listening.
He spins, frantically searching his pockets for his phone. “Spinner, can you do me a favor?”
She narrows her eyes suspiciously.
Gon knew today was going to be a good day.
—————
It’s been a week, and Killua has quit all social media forever.
The steady buzz of his phone informing the apartment of his notifications is not his problem. Alluka’s the one who decided to hack into his phone and post something to his old public account, the one he mostly uses for photos of cats and complaining about terrible business precedents. He hasn’t posted much since school, and if anything, it should have simply vanished into the void of the internet.
He finds the culprit fairly quickly, and for once it’s not his sister’s moderate but dedicated video following.
“Old man, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Leorio lounges in Alluka and Kalluto’s living room, freshly out of his scrubs and looking pleased as all hell. “I just reblogged a fun post from my friend,” he says somewhat defensively. “You were a cute kid, Killua. What happened?”
Killua feels a growl creep up his throat. “You can’t just do that,” he snaps.
“It’s not my fault the people like my well-coiffed but rugged appearance and dedication to social justice in medicine.”
“You have 500,000 followers because you made a joke post two years ago, and some authorized user reblogged it five times. It has nothing to do with your ugly mug.” If Killua squints and plugs his ears, he can even see why people think Leorio’s attractive or whatever: tan skin, lean but strong as hell, actually takes care of his hair, not to mention a damn good doctor with one of the most prestigious institutions in Yorknew who spends most of his free time running health clinics in impoverished neighborhoods. That’s all swell. But then he starts talking, and Killua has no idea where the off button is.
Leorio spreads a hand out, gesturing vaguely with the glass of iced tea that he’d helped himself to out of Alluka’s stash. “It has everything to do with my ‘ugly mug,’” he says. “Which is why I used my powers for good and spread your post. Don’t you want to find him?”
“Not like this!”
“You were not going to find him at all,” Kalluto’s quiet voice pipes up from the kitchen. They have night classes tonight, but Killua has a feeling that even if they were supposed to be attending their Yorknew Uni lectures, they would still be here making Killua’s life worse. “You’ve had that picture for years, and you did not even try to look.”
Leorio gives him a judgmental look over the tops of his stupid tiny glasses. “You haven’t?”
It would be a losing game to bury his burning face in one of the throw pillows, so Killua does his best to cross his arms over his chest and glower instead. “I…tried.”
“And?”
“I don’t even know his last name!” Killua splutters. “I didn’t have his number or where he was from, other than his mom worked on the ship. And that cruiseline went bankrupt and liquidated everything before I could get out of the house, so I couldn’t even look that up.”
Kalluto crosses over from the kitchen and perches like a sweatshirt-wearing crow on the coffee table, their blue eyes carefully neutral under straight black bangs. “Alluka and Nanika would have helped. Or even Milluki, if you had explained the situation.”
“I was eighteen, okay? I just left home, and our parents were still being…shit, themselves, I guess.” He hadn’t even considered asking for help. Then again, he’d tried the moment he could, that first summer of undergrad where he didn’t have to come home and Illumi couldn’t spend half his time breathing down the back of Killua’s neck. He had a general idea of where they’d gone, maps of islands scurried away in the closet with the old photo and a bag full of seashells Gon had given him as a going-away present.
They’d been friends for a week, in the whirlwind way that only kids can be. The cruise ship was massive, and Killua’s parents were in meetings half the time and playing nice with the other rich people on board the other half. Killua had been bored witless, and Gon was everything he couldn’t have possibly imagined: encouraging Killua to go exploring, to stealing food from the kitchens, making him help clean up the decks, playing cards with the deckhands. Sneaking off the boat to visit an island without Killua’s parents while the ship was docked, scrambling over the burning hot sands and dashing through the jungle, diving into the waves fully clothed and competing to see who could find the biggest prettiest shells. Gon’d been Killua’s first friend, his first crush, his first…a lot of firsts.
Then the cruise had ended, and Killua forgot to give Gon his phone number. His address. Anything. They’d been so swept up in being friends, being best friends, it had seemed impossible that they would never see each other again.
Does Gon even remember? Why should he, when Killua hasn’t contacted him? Would they even be friends anymore?
Maybe he hadn’t searched hard enough. But part of Killua thinks he shouldn’t have tried at all.
The phone buzzes loudly, and Killua tries not to flinch.
“Hey, Killua. It’s okay.” Leorio leans forward, hands clasped over his too-long limbs and expression gentle. “If you want me to delete it, I will. Not sure I can help with the viral part of things, except maybe go through your messages and delete the gross ones, or at least find the weirdest ones for you to laugh at later.”
“Alluka and I have been doing this already,” Kalluto says, their posture a little too protective for Killua’s raw nerves at this point. “But perhaps you have some suggestions for what to do next, Dr. Paladiknight?”
Leorio smiles sympathetically. “Don’t read the comments? That said, most of your comments have been much more positive than anything I usually post. The masses seem to be genuinely rooting for you, kid.”
“I have only had to delete a dozen lewd messages for you this morning,” Kalluto adds, not mentioning the hundred or so that Alluka took care of yesterday.
Killua’s traitorous phone buzzes again, and that’s it. Time to bury himself in a pillow. Killua flops onto the couch, narrowly missing Leorio, and does his best to burrow into the cushions. “That’s just great,” he says into the fabric.
A comforting hand rubs against his hair, messing up the curls for a moment, and Killua refuses to admit that it’s nice, that he has friends like Leorio who even bother to care. “It could be worse. You could be dealing with this while still working a soul-sucking job making more money than most of us will see in our lifetimes, in exchange for giving up all of your morals.”
Killua groans loudly. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“You’re gonna need to do something, Killua! And hey, I might be able to set something up with my—”
“I already told you, no.”
“But it’s what you’re good at. And you wouldn’t be fucking people over to do it.”
“No.”
“Just listen for one—”
Killua lifts his head enough to glare as murderously as he can at Leorio. It must work at least a little, because the doctor shuts up.
Meanwhile, Kalluto is scrolling through Killua’s phone, poking at the screen occasionally. In the awkward silence, their sharp gasp is loud enough to shatter a window, and they hurriedly shove the phone in the pocket of their oversized sweatshirt.
Leorio raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
Kalluto squeezes their eyes shut for a moment, then carefully places the phone on the coffee table, screen pointed innocently at the ceiling. “You will want to look at this one, Brother.”
“This isn’t another erotic sandcastle is it?” he says.
Kalluto shakes their head, and Killua’s stomach lurches up his throat. Alluka has been the one excited about this whole thing. But Kalluto, as reserved as they are, is a massive romantic. The whole thing might be Alluka’s fault, but Killua knows it’s Kalluto who almost lets themselves believe it’ll work. Despite all of the false positives, the people who send messages that don’t sound right or photos that have the wrong smile.
Killua doesn’t want to hope. It can’t possibly be Gon. But his hands shake nonetheless as he unlocks his phone and finds a new message in his DMs.
It’s not from Gon.
Instead, someone with the icon of a small-billed white swan in a soft small-billed hat and a handle of @flymypretties has sent a photo of a brown-skinned man with spiky black hair absolutely covered in dirt and grime. He’s waving at the camera, a backpacking bag propped against his shoulder and the widest smile Killua has ever seen beaming straight through the screen and into his chest. Next to him and half out of frame, a tall tanned man with massive black eyebrows and a tank top showing off an impressive amount of muscle has his head in his hands. Killua feels a sharp stab of sympathy, somewhere buried beneath the racing of his heart.
look im sorry about this but this idiot can’t find his phone and we r kind of in the middle of nowhere so reception’s shit. he wants to know if you admit he found the biggest seashell on the beach, whatever that means.
For a long, long moment—seconds? minutes maybe?—Killua can do nothing but stare at the screen of his phone. Leorio and Kalluto both look at him with a mix of curiosity and worry, Kalluto starting to slowly reach for the phone.
In a completely childish protective moment, Killua grabs it against his chest, like the image will vanish if he doesn’t keep it close.
“Is it…?” Leorio asks.
Killua swallows heavily, trying to think around the roaring of the ocean in his ears. “I think so,” he says faintly.
Kalluto’s eyes widen, and they spin on their heels towards their room. “I’m calling Alluka!”
—————
“Has he responded?”
“No!”
“…what about now?”
Spinner throws her hands in the air so violently that her hat falls off. “For god’s sake, Gon, it’s been an hour, you don’t even have your phone, and you still need to go home.”
Gon huffs and pouts. They’re still in the parking lot over an hour after the rest of the trekking group has left, and all the exhaustion that had settled into Gon’s body from the tour has been turned into a jittery energy that keeps trying to leak out from under his skin. He wants to go home immediately and dig out his copy of the photo, rub out the old fingerprints he and Aunt Mito have left on it over the years. He wants to find his phone and message Killua directly. He wants to wait right here until Killua responds, no matter how long it takes.
He knows it’s childish, to be this selfish. Spinner has work to do, work that she already put on hold to help with the last day of the tour. Kite probably will want to know what’s happening, or at least why his lead guide and his chief guide organizer have been stuck in a parking lot. And Gon can practically feel Zushi’s obsessive scrolling through social media, frantically trying to navigate Gon’s feeds without actually having access.
Gon needs to find his phone.
“Spinner, what if—”
It’s not that Spinner’s a large woman. Out of the three people standing in the parking lot, Zushi’s far and away the strongest, even if he is about as threatening as a large, muscular teddy bear. And Gon has only packed on weight and muscle over his years of backpacking around the wilderness, no matter that he’s not super tall. But Spinner goes for longer, harder treks on her own than anyone but Kite, and she packs in her own climbing gear on top of that, so when she tosses Gon into the back of Zushi’s jeep, he flies.
“Zushi,” she says in a low exhausted snarl, and he jumps right off the hood of his car. Gon probably would have felt bad for him, if everything wasn’t spinning. “If you do not take your roommate home, I am not responsible for the consequences.”
“What if you hear back?” Gon groans around the aches in his side.
Spinner rolls her eyes, and Gon knows she’s just tired. “I’ll let you know.”
“But what if my phone’s gone? What will I do if someone stole it, or if I can’t—”
“I’ll call you go home already,” she says, and slams the door shut on his face.
For a long moment, the only sound is Spinner storming away, boots thudding heavily in the dirt until her car door slams.
The jeep shifts slightly as Zushi quietly lowers himself into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition. Gon wants to tell him to follow Spinner, so she can yell out the window as soon as Killua gets back to her. But Zushi looks about ready to bolt. So Gon slumps back in the seat, the rumble of tires crunching through gravel making his already jittery nerves shake.
A small voice that sounds a lot like Kite tells Gon that it’s better to wait, that it will be easier to have a conversation and determine if this really is Killua after a rest and a shower.
Gon doesn’t want that, though. He wants…
It’s been a long time since he was on Whale Island. Longer still since he saw Killua. That doesn’t mean he stopped thinking about either of them, during the quiet moments out under the stars. They’re part of him, like his lungs are part of him—essential and irreplaceable, buried so far inside that removing them would change him irrevocably.
What is Killua like now? Is Gon just as important to him as he is to Gon? He has to be. Right?
They make it home without saying anything else. Gon floats in and out between bone-deep weariness and electric sparks of nervous joy, and Zushi flinches every time Gon jolts himself from one to the other.
“Hey, are you…I mean, maybe not okay, but.”
Gon lifts his chin up sharply at the sound of his roommate’s voice, and notices the familiar apartment complex in front of him. Oh, they’re home. “I’m good,” he says, and grins.
“Sure,” Zushi says like he doesn’t believe Gon.
A dubious silence stretches out between them as they gather the rest of the gear, dropping it in a heap on the sidewalk. “You were kids, though,” Zushi finally says.
Gon shrugs and slams the door shut hard enough to make the vehicle rattle. “I didn’t forget. So I don’t think Killua would, either.”
Zushi’s eyebrows wrinkle on each other, like they can’t decide whether to go up or down and settle on some combination of the two. “What if he did?”
“He didn’t,” Gon says, more sure of that than anything else in his life.
Zushi’s eyebrows dance again, but he doesn’t say anything else.
Between Gon’s camping gear and Zushi’s leftover practice pads, it takes longer than Gon’s excitement can take to get everything settled enough to look for his phone. Well, Gon would have liked to look for his phone, but Zushi makes a pointed look at the shower. There are only so many places the phone could be in the whole apartment, after all.
Gon’s just drying off when Zushi knocks on the door. “I found it, but it’s dead,” he says, voice muffled.
“Then charge it!” Gon shouts. After a moment, he adds, quieter and less snappishly, “Please?”
A faint laugh echoes through the apartment.
By the time Gon can make himself a very early dinner of whatever he could grab out of the cabinets without thinking, the phone is charged enough to turn on. Sure enough, there are a wide variety of messages, mostly from Kite’s groupchat asking about the viral post. A few are from former hikers, people who Gon liked enough to share contact info, offering to see if they can get in touch. There are even a few—okay, how did they get ahold of his old social media page? It’s practically defunct, since Gon’s never had a phone capable of more than the most basic apps. And those are…
It’s flattering in a way, but Gon’s not really into that. Or them.
Zushi catches sight of the grimace, and takes one look over Gon’s shoulder before turning beet red.
By the time he’s gone through and deleted the vast majority of what had been filling up his phone, there’s still no message from Spinner, and nothing at all from Killua. Gon sighs and lies his head down on the table with a heavy thunk.
The other chair scrapes heavily along the tiles as Zushi sits, a mug of coffee in his hands. “What will you do? When he messages you, I mean.”
When, not if, an unexpected certainty coming from Zushi. Gon has the best friends in the world. “Talk to him,” Gon says. “It’s only been fifteen years, right? We promised we’d be friends forever.”
“A lot changes in fifteen years,” Zushi says.
“Not that.”
“Then why didn’t you look for him?”
Gon frowns. It had taken a long, long time, but Aunt Mito managed to track down the cruise captain the last time they were in port, tracing through old charters until the right names came up. But when she’d called them up, she’d been met with stonewall after stonewall, pleasant-sounding voices insisting in no uncertain terms that she would never speak with a member of Killua’s family, let alone let her son speak to his friend. By the time Gon was old enough to look himself, he found nothing but a mansion full of people whose eyes matched Killua’s in everything except for his warmth, who refused to even acknowledge Gon’s presence except to throw him out.
That had been years ago. It’s not that Gon stopped looking. Not exactly.
“I did, but I—” Gon starts to say, but his phone buzzes violently against the table, and they both jump out of their chairs.
“Is it—?” Zushi asks, breath in his throat.
It’s a message from Spinner. you owe me big time, kid, she says, followed by a phone number.
Gon rips his phone off the cable, a wide smile spreading across his face. “It is,” he says, and dials Killua.
—————
bzz bzz—
bzz bzz—
bzz b—
“H-hello?”
“Killua! Hi!”
“…Gon? Is that—It’s really…?”
“Killua, it’s you, I thought I’d never—”
“I did find the biggest seashell, and you know it.”
A breath, sharp and astonished. “The blue and white one, with green lines.”
“I found it, and I gave it to you.”
“I still have it.”
A snort of amusement, slightly damp. “I know. You promised you’d keep it.”
“I did. And I promised—”
“That we’d be friends forever.”
A laugh, delighted and teary at the same time. “I knew you remembered.”
“I did promise you that I would.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
(AUgust prompts)
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babyybitchhh · 3 years
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Announcement
Alrighty, then. This post has been a long time coming so lets get right into it.
After much deliberation, I've decided not to push the self destruct button. I thought about it. Oh, when I say I was SO damn close to deleting this entire blog and all my fics right along with it. I'm frustrated and angry with myself, and I can't exactly say I'm doing well atm, but I know when things start to get better I'll want to write again, in earnest, and then I'd have to start over from scratch. Egg all over my face. Clown shit. We don't know her.
BUT. I think its clear to any and all that this is not working. It's just not. I expect too much of myself, for starters. And when it feels like others expect a certain level of performance from me that I just can't nail consistently due to my own ineptitude, my brain powers off. Is it some kind of executive dysfunction? Is it a fear of failing? A fear of success? Plain old anxiety? Who knows! I certainly don't. Whatever it is, it's hanging over my head like a guillotine. I'm beyond stressed and barely staying afloat irl, but then when I turn towards what should be a fun and therapeutic outlet all I see are expectations.
"When will you post the next chapter" on works that I WANT to finish but yet fear putting out a subpar product for and disappointing people.
"Will you write a follow up piece" for works that I WANT to expand on but don't know how to in a way that will make everyone else happy, let alone myself.
"Are you working on my request" for WIPs I have partially drafted and yet no way of knowing if that person - or anyone! - will even enjoy it.
I honestly feel guilty working on my own ideas instead of the multiple prompts in my inbox. I'm pretty sure that's part of my malfunction with my Ogun fic and others like it that are close to being done but remain unfinished simply because I'm thinking about what everyone else wants. It'd be one thing if I could just churn out content without a second thought but I can't. Like, it genuinely upsets me thinking that people are stuck in limbo waiting because I'm too chicken shit to just go with the flow instead of obsessing over every single line of text to the point of nausea, all for the sake of putting out "quality" content. I feel bad. I want to enjoy the writing process again, just like I did when I first got back into it with OsoSan. I shouldn't have started taking requests if I wasn't going to deliver, I know, and I sincerely apologize for my lack of foresight but it is what it is. I can't change the past. But what I CAN do is start fresh. So, long story short, there are going to be some changes coming to this blog.
A total revamp. I'm going to do an overhaul on the whole thing so don't be surprised when it starts to look different. I'm going to work primarily on navigation and organization, and try to tidy up a bit.
I'm turning off anon. Both because people looking to have a go with writers aren't so brave when that's no longer an option and also because I want to get as far away from those expectations as possible. I wont be reading or responding to comments on AO3 anymore for that same reason. I love you guys, and you're more than welcome to talk to me in DM's if you're more comfortable that way, but the long list of asks wanting to know wtf I'm doing in my spare time if not writing this or that is doing more harm than good.
I'm getting rid of the requests page and also purging any that I haven't already started working on - hopefully once I get into a better groove I'll actually be able to finish them, because I genuinely would like to. I really am sorry to everyone who's been waiting for their request to be fulfilled but I'm clearly not talented or confident enough to juggle my own ideas with someone else's. Maybe at some point in the future, when I'm a better writer, I'll start taking them again and we can all be happy.
And finally, I'm going to start experimenting with my writing method. As in, you're probably going to see shorter, less obsessively curated pieces popping up on my page that may not always be sexual in nature. I just really need to buckle down and work on this - all of it - and I'm determined to improve my skills even if it kills me. I have the urge to write every single day but it's hard when I'm the way I am and I've backed myself into a corner like this. I need to learn how to stop overthinking everything and just DO it. I know my productivity would increase and, with it, so would the overall quality of my work so I'm going to be focusing on different areas that need improvement. Not everything I put out will be good but that's part of the process, right? Right.
I totally understand if I lose followers for any of the above reasons, or even just personal ones, so don't hesitate to do so if you feel like you can't jive with this blog anymore. I appreciate you taking the time to read all this and I hope you understand my reasons for needing to do a reset on this page. This is exactly why I didn't want to start taking commissions and I would once again like to apologize to anyone I've let down.
P.S. I've had this distinct feeling that certain people in the writing community are not happy with me for a while now and although I'm not entirely sure what I've done wrong, I would still like to issue a formal apology for any toes I might have stepped on. That was never my intention. I can't claim to be a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but I have no ill will towards anyone. If its about the patreon I subscribed to and then left a month later, it had nothing to do with the author in question. I just belatedly realized I had more money coming out of my account than I could handle at the time and yes that weighs heavy on my shoulders. If its about the way I suddenly disappear in private chats, that's also something that shouldn't be taken personally. I genuinely have a hard time keeping up conversations with people, and I feel like a bother more often than not. If it's about the discords I join and then never participate in, see the above. If its about the way I fangirl or enthusiastically support some writers but not others, I never meant any harm by it. I just can't conceivably read everything that comes across my dash and, yes, my favorites are prioritized. Either way, whatever the grievances may be, anon will remain on until I start the revamp process some time tomorrow night so if whoever wants to air out their problems go for it. I probably wont post them but I will read them and try to learn from them, so have at it.
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KEEPING TRACK OF IT ALL - OUTLINES & ADMIN
I had a question about how I keep my notes organized and if I use pen and paper or if I use a computer, and what makes sense for me to be able to reference them as needed.  Easiest way is to show you!
To start, there is no "correct" way to do this, there is only a correct way FOR YOU.  
I suggest asking a few different writers (if you can) to see if there is a new idea you haven't tried yet, and it may take a lot of experimenting to really zero in on this process to find the optimal way your creative brain, logic brain, resources and work space all work together.  I know that I am very lucky to have a whole separate room for my creative endeavors, but you can probably adapt a lot of what I'm doing to a small space!  I have done it before in dorm rooms and when I shared an apartment with four other friends.  It's possible!
I keep my ideas and very early iterations in an idea notebook.  Often referred to in the writing world as a "writer's notebook."  This is where nothing matters, nothing is right or wrong, ideas can get started or I can just collect thoughts I don't want to forget.  I like to use composition notebooks or journal style notebooks for this phase, because short of some real aggressive brainstorming, the pages don't fall out and they stay in order.
My current idea book:
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Inside, the pages don't have structure.  I date them when I can remember because it helps me find stuff to go back to, and I just like to know.  Here's an old page as an example:
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"You Can do this.
You need to make mood boards and playlists.  Make this something you can FEEL.
6-30-2020
Make the settings hard to deny.  Make this thing almost feel like a cartoon in all the right ways."
These were notes to hype myself up about a project I'm still in the early stages of six months later.  Sometimes it takes a while!  But I know exactly what this means, and now I have the start of a plan.
Quality Ingredients was in this little pink book:
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You can see that a lot of this isn't true anymore (if you can read it), but this is the space where you just get things out of you and sort them out later.  Let it flow.  No one needs to see these but you.
Once I have an idea that is ready to be developed, I start formally bringing it to life and I still prefer to do that by hand.  My mind wanders better when I don't have margins and limits predetermined by technology.  During this stage, I use loose leaf or blank paper and I keep them in a binder or a folder.  I like to be able to lay it all out and see the whole story at the same time and move things around.  I typically keep things that go together bound with a paper clip (certain characters and their backstories, habits and research on their jobs for example).  
When it comes time to outline the whole thing, I make each event it's own piece of paper and I lay them out like a story board.  They don't always necessarily break down to be the beats where chapters get broken up, but they are clumps of events that make sense together.  Sometimes the chapters decide for themselves as I'm writing the actual story.  Don't tell yourself where the chapters are every time.  Sometimes they will tell you.  Tell yourself where the events are, and where the beats are, and cooperate with the story to see what happens.
Here is Might As Well's outline laid out on my desk as an example:
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Once I have the overhead beats written out "They go on a date" or "They flirt at the engagement party" I go in and add notes for myself to the events.  What kind of flirting?  What are they wearing?  Who else is there?  How do they feel about each other?  How do they feel about the party itself?  Are they excited about the wedding?  What did they do all day to get ready?  What is the lighting like? Are they sweaty?  I brainstorm all of the stuff that is going to go into each scene before I write it.  It sounds like a lot more work than it is.  Remember, these don't even have to be full sentences.  Sometimes I write down something like "It's still hot and the light is yellow" and I know what that means.
Practice this step if you don't already.  You will be amazed at how much richer your work becomes!
After I have the beats of the story and I have a good idea of who the people are and the vibe of the whole thing, and I've collected some music that makes sense and some images that give me the right headspace, NOW I go to the computer and I type up a loose, no-thought-for-formality outline.
Might As Well's was a little over four pages:
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I write this in the style that I speak, almost the way you would tell a story to a friend.  Something like "Clarke and Lexa sit down to talk details while they're friends whisper in the background" is it's own chapter description, but it summarizes things for me.
I have the luxury of printing things out, and that works for me because by now you have probably gathered that I am a visual person.  I'm 36, so I had been writing for a while before it became commonplace to have a computer at home.  I took my first typing class when I was 14 or 15 and took my first writing classes when I was 8, so I never really broke away from the physical process.  If you feel like this would help you, you can typically get a black & white only printer relatively inexpensively.  
Now, I do the digital version of "each event gets it's own piece of paper":
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And now....I go and write!  
I have the binder or folder of loose sheets that are organized and clipped together if I ever need to reference something like how long someone has worked at their job, how far they live from their friends, what their childhood was like, and I also have a full outline if I need to see WTF order things happen in, and I have the outline with how everyone is feeling and what the air smells like.  I prefer having all of that on the desk next to my computer, but I know it works just as well for different brains to have all of these things organized digitally.
I also have the messy notebook where it all began.  If/when I'm feeling stuck, sometimes I page back through that to see if I was secretly a genius about something and maybe I forgot.  It happens!  There have been occasions where I find the silliest little sentence that didn't feel important at the time, but comes back to save the day.  
Because writing is so solitary and it's easy to forget something if you're the only person you told, I like to have different sets of notes to also organize when I was thinking about something, if that makes sense.
Then I go into multiple drafts which is a whole other post.  
I hope this gives you some ideas on how you can organize your notes and keep all of your references close at hand in a way that works for you!
Thank you for asking!  Have fun, and try a few things out until you nail the process for yourself so it becomes second nature.
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